My First Time

The True Story of Snow White: Part 3

Snowden Speaks — Sat, 21 Dec 2024 15:19:00 -0600

Two men’s wickedness.

Based on the works of The Story Teller, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Cassius shut the door and returned to the Queen. With another wave of his hand she felt some of her mobility returning. Immediately she tried to wrest herself from the spell only to find her energy draining away once more.

He smiled slyly. "The spell will only allow you the movements and words that I want you to have."

A knock sounded at the door.

"Enter." He called out.

The guard entered followed by a rather tall statuesque woman with blond curls that cascaded like a waterfall to cover her full breasts.

Cassius sat on a couch against the far wall, his eyes directing the Queens movements.

She walked towards Adrian, her movements sultry and smooth. On the way her hand snagged a chair and dragged it along to place beside Adrian. "You have been standing quite a long time, Adrian, please sit."

Cautiously, he sat. His reaction turning to shock as the queen draped herself across his lap, with her delicious backside pointing up. Wiggling her ass, she pleaded. "Adrian, I have been a very naughty girl and I must be punished. Pull my dress up and spank my ass."

Stunned eyes looked at the Prince who nodded an assent. A delighted grin curved Adrian's lips as he hurriedly tossed the Queens skirts over her back and head.

Full pale peach globes unfettered by panties awaited the stinging touch of his hand. He gripped a cheek in each hand, squeezing and kneading the flesh. Then raising his arm he brought it down on her ass with a resounding Slap!

A high-pitched shriek escaped the muffling effects of the skirts.

Adrian kneaded the stinging flesh before raising his hand once more and smacking the other cheek.

For several minutes the only sounds in the room were the sharp slapping noises as hand met ass and the wailing shrieks of the Queen.

Prince Cassius' eyes fell on the maid still standing near the door of the chamber. Her eyes stared at the scene before her while one hand held her skirts at her waist and the other was busy fondling her twat.

"Come here, my beauty." Cassius called to her. "You will find that I am much better than your hand."

A blush stained her cheeks at being caught but she readily moved over to stand before him. He reached out and ripped the material of her blouse and skirt from her body. Next he opened the buttons of his trousers, and pulled out his engorged erection.

"On your knees, little one, and suck my cock." He ordered.

His mouth opened on a wordless moan as she pounced on his cock, sucking hungrily. Her mouth was like a vacuum, her cheeks hollowed with the force of her suction. Up and down her head bobbed, pausing every few seconds to run her tongue along the length of his raging cock. Once more she sucked him into her mouth drawing him further and further down her throat until she had taken his entire cock down to the root.

"Fuck Yes!" He growled dropping his head back to rest on the couch.

She swallowed, the motion forcing his cock deeper while her throat muscles squeezed and caressed him

"Shit! Oh Christ, Do That Again!" His hands fisted in her hair holding her still so that she could not release his cock from her mouth.

It was even better the second time, his whole body arched up off the couch. The feeling of having his cock so deep in her mouth was overwhelming. It was only when he realized that she couldn't breathe did he reluctantly ease out. Letting go of her head he let her set the pace while his attention turned back to Adrian and the Queen.

Adrian roughly pushed the Queens thighs apart as she lay on top of his lap and thrust a hand between them. Wetness coated her twat and inner thigh and covered his fingers as he rammed three deep inside her cunt.

"Ah, Yes!" She screamed. "More! Give me more!"

"I'll give you more, later, bitch. But first I'm going to eat your cunt." He told her with relish.

"Adrian." Cassius called over to him.

Adrian glanced over to find the Prince enjoying what looked to be an excellent blowjob. "Yes, your majesty?"

"I do believe the Queen needs some air, why don't you take her out on the balcony and if there are any people about, why then she'll have someone to converse with."

An erotic plan began to form in Adrian's mind at the Prince's words. "An excellent idea, your majesty. My thanks."

"No thanks are needed

The True Story of Snow White: Part 2

Snowden Speaks — Fri, 20 Dec 2024 15:17:00 -0600

The True Story of Snow White: Part 1

Snowden Speaks — Thu, 19 Dec 2024 15:17:00 -0600

It's time for Snow to marry.

Based on the works of The Story Teller, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Prologue

Once upon a time in a fairytale land, there lived a girl of such uncommon beauty that she was regaled throughout the kingdom as the most beautiful woman in the world. In her honor, stories were written of hair as black as night that fell to a slim waist and eyes as blue as a summer sky. Ballads were sung of her skin, white as freshly fallen snow and lips as red as blood. But in the end, it was her beauty that would be her downfall. You see Snow White had a rival.

At the age of fifteen her father, the King, remarried another woman of uncommon beauty, a woman of high intelligence, a strong sexual appetite, and a deep, dark secret. Poor Snow White was left to roam the massive castle alone and lonely for long periods of time while her father was preoccupied with his new bride.

Then, shortly after Snow White's eighteenth birthday, the kings strained heart gave out and Snow White's life became much worse. The Queen's previous lovers entrenched themselves in the castle, sometimes staying for months at a time. Then others, hearing of the debauchery to be had, began arriving and staying. Kings and Princes, Lords and Dukes, and many widows and mistresses came to enjoy the carnality. The Queen loved it, for she had her pick of lovers and playmates. Her appetites never went unsatisfied.

Chapter 1

The mahogany door opened smoothly and silently despite its weight to allow the Queen to enter the darkened chamber.

"Lights." She ordered with an imperious wave of her hand.

Candles all through the room, hanging from walls, and sitting on tables sparked and then grew in brightness to illuminate the room. The Queens massive bed dominated one wall, but it was the full-length mirror in the corner of the room that drew attention. It showed no reflection now. Instead swirls of black and gray twisted and turned fiercely inside the glass.

The Queen walked slowly until she stood directly in front of the mirror before speaking. "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the best fuck of all."

The black and gray swirls twisted even more violently as the shape of a powerfully built man appeared in the mirror. Black eyes stared out of a chiseled face and a deep, husky voice reverberated through the room. "There is no doubt, of that I'm sure, you, my Queen, are more woman than men can endure."

A satisfied smile crossed her face as the queen prepared to step through the mirror and into her inhuman lover's arms.

A hand lifted in the mirror halting her momentum. "A warning I have to give, of

a rival that lives, Snow White will become better than you, unless another land she is sent to."

"What!?" She screamed in outrage. "How can that prissy little bitch best me?" The Queen moved angrily through the mirror slapping away the hand that reached for her. "Not now, Malachi, answer my question how will that prude ever become a better fuck than I am?"

Malachi sighed as he settled into the plush cushions of his bed. He hadn't wanted to tell her, but that damn spell forced him to speak truthfully. At least now with her in his domain he didn't have to speak in that stupid rhyme. "Snow White is a very desired and beautiful woman now. It's only a matter of time before she is caught by one of your rogues and initiated into the erotic arts. When that happens, it has been shown to me that she will embrace the carnal side of her nature and will soon be more desired than you."

"No, I won't allow it. I'll have her killed first."

"My queen," Malachi began while slowly pulling her taut form down to lie next to him. "You know that's too dangerous to your position in this kingdom." Malachi slid his hand up underneath skirts found her clit and preceded to work it with his fingers. "Her death could very well cause a revolt against you. Why not marry her to a prince or a king in a far away kingdom. That way she is removed from your life?"

"I have already tried to marry her off, you dolt. There is no one who is willing to put up with her prudish ways." She huffed in dismay.

"Well then, she'll just have to be taught different ways." He replied with a wicked grin. "I would be most willing to be of assistance in her lesson as well as finding her a husband. For a price."

She stared at him haughtily. "I will not release you from the mirror, Malachi, so do not ask it."

"No, my queen, I have given up on leaving this mirror. But my price is two-fold. For the first part, I want access to any wench that I desire at ALL times."

"Fine, I'll put a spell on the castle, all you need to do is speak the girls name and she'll come right to you. What else?"

"I want Snow White's virginity."

"Done."

"Wonderful." Malachi smiled in delight, before he roughly pushed the Queens thighs apart and latched his mouth onto her delicious cunt.

Snow White Seduced by the Genie.

Carnal moans and cries of ecstasy surrounded Snow White as she hurried through the castle corridors. She did not walk, but ran, for to be caught now would end in the loss of her virtue. When she reached the big wooden door to her stepmother's rooms she did not stop but used her momentum to force the heavy door open. Once inside she pushed the door closed and leaned against it to catch her breath.

Virgins, Lillian and Bill; get married during the Christmas of 1954.

Based on a post by JupiterMars. Listen to the Podcast at My First Time.

December 1954, Near New Haven Connecticut

Christmas Moonlight by the Glenn Miller Band played on the RCA Victor radio as Lillian O'Brady looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She was happy with the way she looked in her wedding dress. The sleeveless, tea-length gown gave her a flirtatious and fun look but not so much that she gave away traditional modesty. The slender bodice and fuller skirt emphasized the curves of her chest and hips.

She had made the dress herself from a McCall's pattern and was very proud of how it came out. Not only did it compliment her body but also her frugal lifestyle. As she pivoted around to check all the angles there was a knock at the door.

"It's time for your hair. Can we come in?" a familiar voice asked.

"Sure," Lillian responded.

Moments later her older sister Susie and her mother Faye walked into the room.

"Oh you look simply beautiful," Faye said as Susie picked up a brush and got to work on Lillian's hair.

Faye took both of Lillian's hands and held them out. "To be honest, I wasn't sure about you making your own wedding dress, but it came out superb. I guess my idea of a wedding gown is all frills and bows, but you look divine in a simple dress."

Lillian smiled, "Thank you. Do you think Bill will like it?"

"Oh of course he will," Faye responded.

"Yeah, every guy in the church is going to be jealous that he bagged such a doll," her sister added as she worked out some small imperfections in her hair.

"Thanks," Lillian said again this time with a bit of a nervous smile.

"Oh honey, are you worried?" her mother asked.

Lillian gave a little nod.

"Don't be. Bill's a wonderful guy. He's handsome, responsible, has a good job and loves you very much."

"I know, I know, it's not that? "

"Well is it the reception? Don't worry about that, you've planned it perfectly. And a Christmas wedding is always special. Not only does it add to this holiday but you will remember it fondly for every Christmas to come."

"No, it's not that."

"It's the sex isn't it?" Her sister blurted out smirking.

Lillian bit her lower lip and looked down in silent acknowledgment of Susie's guess.

"Oh dear, Lilian, why are you worrying about that on this wonderful day?" asked her mother.

"I don't know, I've nothing to relate it to and don't know what to expect."

"Well, it's the most natural thing a man and a woman can do so you shouldn't worry about it."

"Unless it hurts," her sister jumped in.

Lillian's look turned concerned, "What do you mean?"

"Well, when me and Bob first did it; it felt like I was getting stabbed with a piece of wood down there. We spent the whole night trying to get it in. It took weeks before I could get comfortable with it."

"Stop it Susie. Don't scare your little sister on her wedding day," Faye interjected. "Lillian, not every woman is like that. That wasn't my experience or your aunt's. To be honest, when your father gets me going I get so wet down there a Studebaker could slide through."

"Who's doing the scaring now Mom?" said Susie. "We don't need to hear about you and dad."

That comment broke the tension and made Lillian giggle. She then asked, "But what if he doesn't like my body? Or if I'm bad at it? Or something embarrassing happens?"

"Darling, never fear your own body. And you're the woman, when it comes to sex there's not much you can do that's bad or embarrassing."

"Um again not true," her sister commented as she put the finishing touches on Lillian's hair. "One time I went to straddle Bob and I accidentally kneed him right in the testicles. He was in pain for days."

SilverFoxMullet - Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

I was folding the last of my laundry, there wasn't much with just myself left in the house. My son had got married and moved to British Columbia. My wife passed on 2 years ago. Just me now, enjoying a much-too-quiet life.

Then the doorbell rang. I went to the door and opened it, only to find my neighbour's daughter Tess standing on his front porch. I'd watched her grow up next door.

When my son had moved out ten years ago, my wife and I had occasionally babysat little Tess. It had been nice having kids around the house again. She'd grown up into an intelligent, pretty young girl. She'd also been devastated why Marie had died.

"Oh, Hi, Tess. What can i do for you?"

"Hi Mr Brock. I um, I need some help with some, uh, homework. I was hoping you'd be able to help me?"

"Okays, I don't know how much help I can really be, but I can try. High school was an awful long time ago for me! Come on in."

Tess followed me into the living room and I asked her "Do you want a drink, I've got water, pop, juice, or milk."

"Water's fine" she said.

I poured two glasses and came back, handing her one as she sat there on my sofa. "So, how can I help? My knowledge of high school math is really out of date you know."

She was fidgeting and blushing, as she sat there clutching her drink and a textbook. Finally she exhaled and said "Human sexuality" as she held up the book.

I blinked at her, nonplussed. What are they teaching kids these days? The only response I could muster was "Um, what?"

She set down her book, took a drink, then set her glass on the coffee table. "Mr. Brock…"

"Call me Kenneth, please."

"Kenneth. I, I want to learn about um, you know, sex. I, my friends, they're all starting to do stuff, to fool around, and I um, I want to learn too but I'm afraid."

I sat there looking at her, unable to process what she was saying. She grew more agitated, and blushed even more. Tears welled up and slipped down her cheeks. If I have one weakness, it's a crying woman. I got up and moved to sit beside her and wrapped my arms around her.

Tess sobbed and clutched at me, crying into my shoulder. After a few minutes she pulled back, and I let her go. "Will to teach me?" she asked. Oh fuck no, I thought.

"That depends on what you want to learn."

"I want to learn about sex. I want to learn everything, I want you to teach me."

"Oh. How old are you now, Tess?"

"I'm sixteen. I'm old enough to learn about this."

Oh crap. This is bad. Really, really bad. "You may think you're old enough, but not for me, that's for sure. You're not even an adult in the eyes of the law. I'm sorry Tess, I can't help you with this."

Tears started dripping again as she spoke. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you with this. It's just, like, all my friends, they're doing stuff, and I feel left out, I want to, but I'm scared. They all say sex is painful, or uncomfortable, or just, not great. Stuff I've read, and stuff I've watched on the internet, makes it sound like sex should be really good, really fun, but my friends say it's not. I want to learn the right way, so it's good for me."

Wow. What the hell are her friends doing? Ah, right, teenage boys. Worse than useless. Maybe I can't do anything with her, but I can help.

"Ok, I am not going to teach you, at least not any hands-on lessons, but I will offer you some advice."

She straightened up a bit, and wiped her eyes. God she was so beautiful. Very girl-next-door wholesome. The last thing she deserved was some idiot teenage boy humping at her for 30 seconds and then running off to brag about his prowess to his idiot friends.

"My first piece of advice is to masturbate."

She looked confused now. "You want me to what?"

"Masturbate, play with yourself. Look, how will you ever be able to tell your lover what you want and how you want it unless you know yourself? Get comfortable with yourself, learn how to please yourself, learn what makes your orgasms great."

She was staring wide eyed at me now, as my words started to sink in. "How do I do that?" she asked.

"Look up female masturbation videos. Watch and learn, and practice."

"Okay" she said, "What else?"

"Buy a toy. Get a marital aid, a dildo, so you can practice feeling what intercourse is like. You can use other things, but it's better and safer to use the right tools for the job. Look up a sex shop or stag shop. I'll even go shopping for you if you want."

"Oh, yes, would you, please?"

"Certainly. Now, once you are comfortable with your own sexuality, and you find someone you want to be with, make sure you tell them what you like. Don't be afraid to be demanding about what they're doing. They either do it right or you kick them out of bed."

She giggled at this, which I thought was incredibly cute. "Don't discount female lovers either. They like sex exactly the way you do. Once you get good at masturbation you'll be able to please another girl quite well."

"I don't think I want to do that, I like boys." she said.

"You mean 'men' not 'boys'. That's exactly why your friends are having lousy sex. They're playing with boys."

She nodded, so I continued. "Guys like oral sex too. In fact, if you're good at blowjobs you won't have to put up with their inept antics in bed. That's another use for the dildo, to practice oral sex. And if a guy starts to hump your face, if he starts grabbing you and pushing, bite him. You don't have to take that if you don't want it. If it's something you enjoy, then let him play, but otherwise he is there to please you, not the other way around."

Tess was smiling now, tears all but forgotten. She hugged me, and said "Thank you. I will follow your advice Mr, uh, Kenneth."

I picked up her book, flipped through it quickly, and found the section on female anatomy. I showed her the diagram and said "Learn what all your parts are, what they're for, and how they work. This is a good place to start. I'll find you a toy tomorrow and you can stop by to pick it up on Tuesday, OK?"

She nodded, saying "Thank you", and repeated herself after hugging me again.

Once she'd left I locked the door and went upstairs with laundry basket. I dropped the basket on the bed and went into my bathroom. I had such a wicked hard-on, I just had to get some relief. The very idea that the literal girl next door wanted me to teach her about sex had me hard as steel.

She might be jailbait but I could still follow my own advice, and masturbate. Of course I didn't last long at all, but I wasn't trying to last.

I went shopping for Tess on Monday, picking out a nice realistic looking dildo and a bottle of personal lubricant. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I chose one that was almost exactly my size. The girl at the cash looked kind of funny at me, so I smiled and said "Gift for a friend

Tess knocked on my door the next afternoon when she got home from school. We exchanged greetings and I handed her the plain brown paper bag. She wanted to pay me for it but I told her it was a gift. l got a hug in return and she practically scampered next door. I silently wished her luck. ." It's great to see Tess feeling more confident about her sexuality. I'm still amazed that I'm the one she turned to for help.

The thought of this girl using her new toy to explore herself gave me fodder for my own playtime for the next week. She may only be sixteen, but she's unbelievably sexy.

Afterwards I only saw her in passing, as usual, and we'd wave and say 'Hi'. She looked happy and cheerful, and I assumed her self-directed lessons were going well, as she hadn't returned for any more advice. Part of me assumed she'd developed a romantic relationship and was handling things just fine.

Life went on, I kept busy at work, and did yard maintenance, laundry, and all the usual stuff around the house. I wasn't into playing sports, so I went to the gym a few days a week to keep in shape. My woodworking hobby morphed from a strictly power tool shop to using a lot more hand tools. It was slower paced but I found it a lot more rewarding. Thoughts of Tess faded away. I had my 'internet videos & pics' to keep me occupied when I needed it. I had no interest in pursuing a new love this late in life, so i wasn't dating or putting myself out there.

That was two years ago. Today I was in the basement shop, planing a cherry table top. It was good physical labour, and I was sweating a bit as I worked. I heard the doorbell, so I set the plane aside and brushed the shavings off my pants.

The bell rang again as I hurried up the stairs, yelling "Coming!" I pulled the door open to find Tess standing there smiling at me. "Oh, Hi there, Tess. I haven't seen you around for a while. How've you been?"

"Hi Kenneth! I just wanted to stop by for a visit, if that's OK?"

"Uh, sure, come on in, can I get you a drink or something?"

"Water would be fine, thanks."

I poured two glasses and brought them to the living room. We sipped and she set her glass down.

"So what brings you by today?" I asked.

"Same as last time." she said with a demure smile.

Last time? Shit, last time she wanted me to 'teach' her about sex. I choked on my drink.

"Uh, Last time?" I said faintly.

"I'm here for my next lesson. I turned 18 a month ago," She beamed. "And now I want you to finish teaching me about sex."

Holy fucking mother of god. She was back, and she was more beautiful than ever. She'd matured more since she was 16, with such a pretty face and solid, slim figure. I could see how nice that figure was, because she wasn't hiding it. The bright yellow halter style dress she was wearing had a deep vee displaying her lovely cleavage, no back, and came to mid-thigh on her sleek legs.

I didn't realize that I hadn't responded to her.

"Well? Will you? Please?" she asked. "I've waited two years you know. And I followed all your advice too. I'm ready for the next lesson."

"But why me, you're stunningly beautiful, you could have any guy you wanted."

"I know. And I want you." She said with resolve.

She then kicked off her sandals and stood up. Reaching behind her neck, she undid the tie holding up the top of her dress. It came undone and the dress slithered to the floor, pooling around her feet. All she had on now was a pair of lacy yellow panties

God she was perfect. Chestnut hair, falling about her shoulders. High, firm, fully tanned breasts with neat brown areolas and stiff looking nipples; her slender waist flared into nicely curved hips, which continued in a graceful curve down her thighs.

Tess stepped towards me, and held out her hand. I reached out and took it. God help me, this was so wrong, but I was literally unable to resist her. She pulled gently and I rose to my feet, stunned by her presence. A tug on my hand was all she had to provide to get me in motion, and I followed her from the living room.

She led me to the top of the stairs, hypnotizing me with the sway of her ass; then stopped and asked in a sultry voice "Which way is the bedroom?"

"This way" I said, pointing to the right. I continued to follow her, into my room, where she stopped, turned, and stood with her arm wrapped around the tall bedpost at the foot of my queen bed. "Tess…" I croaked in a strained voice.

"This is what I wanted back then, when I came to you two years ago. It's still what I want now. You said I was too young. I'm an adult now, and I want this, I want you."

"Oh god, Tess. I want to say no, I should say no, I have to say no, but I can't. You're so perfect, so beautiful, so delightful, and I can't tell you no."

She smiled, and oh man, she was so stunningly beautiful it made me weak at the knees. Like a fucking goddess. And like a goddess, no mere mortal like me could refuse her.

"Make love to me, Kenneth." She said, in a low sultry voice.

I peeled off my polo shirt and tossed it aside. The rest of my clothing quickly followed, and I stood before her as aroused as I had ever been in my life. Her smile broadened and she laughed lightly, saying "Oh you're perfect! You're just like that wonderful dildo that you gave me to practice on!"

I remembered the dildo I bought her years ago, and recalled that that was exactly what I'd picked out for her. I just smiled back at her and gave a little shrug. She laughed again and beckoned me forward. The goddess pulls the strings and the puppet moves to her will. Where did she get such sexual confidence and assertiveness?

I took her hand and walked over to the side of the bed, where I sat and guided her onto my lap, and kissed her.

She sighed into the kiss, and melted against me. Her skin was so soft, her warm, fragrant body so supple and firm at the same time. We kissed for a while, and I moved my attentions from her lips to her jawline, then to her earlobes, and finally her neck.

Tess was cooing and sighing in my arms, her firm breasts and taught nipples pressed to me. I kissed her again, harder, and brought my tongue into it. Hers came back at me to play, and we tasted each other for a while more.

When she started to writhe in a subtle manner I knew she was truly aroused, so I moved her over to lie back on the bed. Awestruck, I gazed at her, reddish brown hair fanning out on the bed, firm breasts sitting high on her chest, defying gravity and anatomy alike. I swooped down upon her breasts, stroking, kissing, licking, and fondling her magnificence.

Those coos and sighs continued, and she started adding words to her breathless sounds. "Don't touch my nipples yet" she whispered, as she directed me to the valley between her tits. I moved to the undersides of them, and thence to her areolas, as I progressed along my slow, wonderful tour.

Finally, with a moan and a push, she led me to the end of this part of our journey. Set in goose-bumped areolas, her swollen, highly sensitive nipples were my last target. I began with gentle licks, then small kisses, on one, then the other, and back. Then it was nibbles, fingers rolling them, sucking them, pressing them, and manipulating her nipples as many ways as I could. She began to writhe beneath me, her words tapering off into moans and gasps. No longer directing me, I played, I explored, I teased and tantalized her. A shudder, followed by a long sighing gasp was the signal she was done with this, and she gently pushed me away.

"Oh, Kenneth, that was wonderful! Thank you. Now lay back, I want to explore you."

I did as she bid, and Tess started touching, stroking, fondling, and kissing her way from my ears to my toes. She didn't spend too long in any one place, and she avoided my cock completely. Little questions, do I like this, or that, and little comments about what she found or liked, interspersed her explorations. She found some ticklish places, and she also found some really arousing places too. Places my wife had never found, places I never suspected I had.

By now, there was a puddle of pre-cum on my abdomen, and she shifted her position to inspect me more closely. She lifted my cock and licked the most recent droplet from it. Then she dipped her head down and lapped up that puddle. My stomach muscles flexed and clenched as she tickled me with her agile tongue. She giggled at my 'gut reaction' as she called it.

Then the most wondrous sensation hit my rigid cock. Her mouth closed over me, and that agile tongue found a new place to play. My late wife hadn't been much for blowjobs, so this was a rare treat indeed for me. Last time would have been probably 25 years ago. And it didn't stop with her tongue, amazing as it was. My shaft began to disappear into her mouth bit by bit, as she bobbed up and down ever so slowly. I stared stunned and slack-jawed in amazement as Tess worked my cock into her throat.

I kept my hands to myself, clutching the duvet, and desperately willed myself not to cum. Alas, this last was in vain, because this goddess continued to pull strings on her mortal puppet. She wanted me to cum, so cum I would, whether I wanted to or not. I groaned and muttered "I'm gonna cum" through gritted teeth. She heeded my warning by humming and pulling back until just my head was in her warm wet mouth. She redoubled her efforts with her tongue, swirling around and around my throbbing manhood. With a whimper I came, shaking and pulsing over and over into her eager mouth. She swallowed my load and kept licking and sucking until I wilted in her mouth.

"How was that?" she asked.

"Oh god, Tess, that was the best I ever had."

She giggled again. "I'm just glad you picked a toy the right size. Practice makes perfect. Although my toy doesn't cum like you do, that was a bit of a surprise. It doesn't taste bad at all, but the texture is weird."

As I listened to her words, she made me wonder, and I had to ask. "Was that your first real blowjob?"

"Uh huh. First ever. It was good?"

"Like I said, best ever. I can't believe that was your first time doing this!"

"First time for real, it was always just my toy before now."

"Wow."

"Now it's your turn to please me" she said, rolling onto her back and tugging my arm. Those strings again, pulling me wither she desired, and this time it was her most private place. I used my hands and forearms, my lips and tongue, to stroke and touch her all over. It was my turn to find her interesting places, her ticklish spots, and make her squirm in anticipation.

I touched her face and neck, kissing and stroking, and proceeded to her shoulders and arms. Another chance to play with her lovely breasts was not to be denied either, and I did indeed have her squirming now. I worked my way down her body, making sure to test every place I could for sexual suitability. She directed me to a few places that she liked, and I found some spots she didn't yet know about. She began to get more vocal, calling my name occasionally, giving hints and feedback and directions, interwoven with a progressively louder and more varied series of moans and gasps.

I stopped, and rose to preview what I was about to acquire. I softly brushed my fingers all around her panties, and her movements became more erratic, changing from a slow undulation to twitching and shuddering. Slowly, I peeled the bright yellow lace from her hips. I could scent her now, a wonderful mix of the robust and the delicate at the same time. She had a beautiful reddish-brown bush, lush and soft, that led to her sex.

I nuzzled her lovely triangle of fur, all the while drawing in her heady aroma. I discarded her panties now, and her legs fell open to my gaze. Beautiful. Exquisite, even. Her lightly furred vulva surrounded a pair of dark-edged lips, glistening with the source of that scent I was enjoying. I pushed her legs farther apart and looked up at her. She smiled back at me and said "Teach me". Fuck.

A lick, along her slit, hammered my senses of taste and smell, filling me with her. She was sour and sweet and floral and meaty, with a little saltiness from her sweat. I moaned into her as I plowed her with my tongue again, deeper, harder. More contact, more flavour, more joy! I pulled back and looked for her clit. That little peak in her folds held a secret I wanted to discover. I drove my tongue into her again and licked all the way up to try and find her clitoris. It was there, small, but firm, still buried in those folds, I could feel it. She could too, based on how she squeaked and jumped when I hit the right spot.

Her breathing was getting faster, and her thighs were flexing, so I assumed she was very close. Did I want, or even need, to tease her? I needed to know what she wanted, so I asked. "Do you want to cum now, or make it last a while?"

"In a little while, but not too long" she said as she brought her hands down to run fingers through my hair.

Perfect. I wondered if her other lovers had asked the right questions, or had she had to guide them? No matter, I have the here a

A Bath with My Oldest Friend

Piper's Posts — Mon, 16 Dec 2024 11:23:00 -0600

Cat and Henry share a relaxing intimate bath.

by Eeveelynn. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Bath's ready.” I heard echo out of the bathroom.

“Thank you.” I mumbled, getting up from the bed, slower this time.

The bath was aromatic, full of bubbles and looked so peaceful. I leaned against the door frame closing my eyes.

“Cat, are you going to be okay in there?” He questioned softly.

“I’m fine!” I snapped back to reality. I was aware of my stubborn determination to be self sufficient, especially after having panic attack.

“It’s ok to need help.” Again the soft tone of his voice irked at my independence.

“I’m fully capable of having a bath, what are you going to do? join me? It’s ok, I’ve got this.” I said trying and failing to unzip the back of my dress.

“If that’s what it takes to know you’re ok? Then yes.” he replied as he lifted my hair and unzipped the dress for me, sliding it off my shoulders. The brush of his hands felt soft against my skin, giving me goose bumps.

If I hadn’t just burnt out all my brains reserves of adrenalin having a panic attack, I’m positive my mind would have been running at a thousand miles an hour, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t. I was entirely focused on the basic things - like how relaxing the bath looked and how good it would feel to wash my face and hair. I still had some wits about me, as romantic as the concept of having a bath together was, and despite how my body was reacting to the idea, I wasn’t necessarily in the right headspace for anything intimate; I tried to make that thought process clear.

“It can’t be anything. But, yeah, I’d appreciate the company. I don’t really want to be alone right now.” I offered honestly, “but you can’t look.”

“I know.” He sighed, “Not like this, this is not how I ever imagined it Cat, I sincerely just want to make sure you’re ok.”

“Not like this…?” I repeated what he said. My brain and heart took a double take as I stared up at him. He’d thought about it, he’d thought about us. “Okay, I’m not looking.” He turned around, embarrassed.

I slipped out of my clothes and slowly hopped into the bath. It was gigantic, so full of bubbles. The water sitting almost at my shoulders, I was able to easily sit sideways with my knees up to my chest.

“OK, you can look.”

“Aw you look so small.” he noted, sitting next to the bath.

“I thought you were going to join me?”

“Ah, it’s ok, I’ll just keep you company, I really want to let you have space.” He reached and scooped up a handful of bubbles, placing them on my head “Cat in a hat.”

I took a hand full of bubbles and blew into it, spraying him with them, he laughed and sighed.

I turned to lie and stretch out in the bath, considering I had it all to myself, I thought it best to make the most of it. He leaned against the tub and played videos on his phone to keep us both amused, occasionally splashing me.

“You know you actually need to wash yourself in the bath?” he joked.

My eyes fluttered open and shut again, “Im just so tired, you said to relax.” I twisted his words to fit my agenda.

“Come on, wake up!” he splashed my face.

“No, you wake up.” I lazily splashed him back.

“We can’t hide in here all day.” Splash.

“You can’t hide in here all day,” I splashed him again “This is my home now.”

“I thought Cats hated water.” Splash.

“It’s a myth, I’m a purrmaid now” I stretched out, enjoying my terrible pun and attempting to ignore the barrage of water attacks.

He splashed me just for the bad joke, he sat there looking a little angry and wet “That’s it! Cat-tatonic, you can’t stay in there forever.” he got up and left the room.

“I can and I will!!” I yelled after him.

I didn’t feel bad about it at all. I lied back again, closing my eyes and enjoying the peace, trying desperately not to accidentally fall asleep.

He sauntered back a few minutes later wearing a towel. With all the photos and videos he’d sent me over the years I’d never actually seen him shirtless. I drank it in for a minute, his shoulders and arms were my favourite part, muscular with full sleeves of tattoos.

“Hey, hey, hey, no looking.” he laughed and I covered my face with my hands, clearly still looking. “Cat, I don’t really like my body, please?”

“OK, ok, ok, just saying, I don’t see why.” I turned away from him, this was difficult, I could have stared for decades, etching his physique into my mind like stone.

“Now schooch over,” he demanded, “If you’re never getting out, I’m getting in.”

I moved forward in the bath and he stepped in, sitting behind me, making the water rise and splash a little over the edge.

“OK, you were right, this is pretty relaxing. Well, pretty and relaxing.”

I looked back and smiled at him, he always got to me with his sneaky compliments.

“Alright now, come here” he said, I backed up little so I was sitting between his legs but not fully against him, I felt a sudden cold on my head.

“What are you…?”

He was washing my hair, I was confused but ok with it.

“Since you’re determined to just sit and do nothing, we’ll be here for ever, so I’ll do it.” He started to massage the shampoo into my hair, It was a nice feeling, I’d only had hair dressers ever do this and it wasn’t like they actually got in a bath with you. It felt so intimate and caring, his hands massaging my tired head. I was close to melting down the drain with the water at that point, I was so at peace. I certainly didn’t expect him to randomly blast the conditioner out with the shower head set to cold.

I screamed and turned awkwardly in his lap “You bastard!”

He was just smiling that dumb fucking smile that he always used to get away with anything. I put my knees on his legs to gain purchase and grabbed his throat lightly. I suddenly noticed he was looking down, not at my face. In my attempt to be threatening, I was giving him a full view of my breasts, nipples perky as the cold water dripped down my body. Something about the way I’d grabbed him dominantly stirred something inside me, something I didn’t know was there.

“If this is how I die I’m 100% fine with it.” he gleamed.

“Ah, you pervert.” I teased, dropping back down into the water and turning my back to him quickly. Deflecting my own thoughts yet still sitting between his legs again, choosing to be closer this time.

“hey, I did nothing.”

“Sure.”

He got a loofa and started scrubbing my back gently

“This is kinda weird right?” I said thinking aloud, my brain starting to work again.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Not at all, but I mean, we’ve sorta just met.”

“We’ve been friends for eight years.” He said defensively.

“Online though.” I reminded him. “So have you bathed chris?” I was referring to one of our mutual male friends.

“No, but he’s never refused to get out of a bathtub before, I guess this is a new one.” he laughed. “Arm up.”

I raised my arm, he glided the loofa up and down, washing it, then proceeded down the side of my body, grazing my breast and hip.

“Other one.”

Same thing again, one of his hands had snaked its way to resting on my waist, I wasn’t sure why it was so intensely comfortable but also so present in my mind. All the physical touch in such a gentle caring manner was turning me on a lot more then I expected.

“Do you want to do the rest? Or do you want me to?” He questioned, it had become apparent the next parts would be very intimate. I slid back against him so my back was on his chest.

“Is it weird I’m enjoying this? this is so relaxing and..” I paused, changing my thought pattern “I can do it if you don’t want to?”

“Not weird at all, I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’m so glad your feeling better” he pulled my waist towards him so I was fully pressed against him for a hug. He body felt good against mine, his arms felt strong wrapped around me. The bubbles, the water, all adding an extra layer of sensation. I knew he was being kind but it was impossible to not notice that he was absolutely turned on, I could feel him so hard against my back.

“Seems like your feeling pretty good yourself.” I giggled.

“Hey, I really can’t help it, it doesn’t have to mean anything. I just, can’t…” he paused for a moment to collect his words “I can’t control what my body feels with you naked. Just ignore it, I promised I wouldn’t do anything but help you.”

“I think I understand the feeling.” I sighed quietly to myself.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing… you missed a spot.” I said handing him the loofa again.

He slowly washed my shoulders and collar bone, then skipped to my waist and stomach, he started mirroring what he was doing with his hand on one side, loofa in the other and occasionally swapping. It was slow and sensual, it felt like he was exploring my body. At a leisurely pace he moved to my legs and thighs, stopping just short of anything to intimate. I knew it wasn’t intentional, but it felt like teasing and it was driving me wild, I could tell how wet I was even in the water. I was aware of my pulse in my pussy as he ran his hands up my inner thighs. I could feel his cock getting even harder, I wasn’t sure that was possible when I had first lied back against him.

He moved his hands up to my breasts, finally. I wiggled my ass, just a little, back into him. I was testing the waters, feeling his cock twitch against me, his breathing got heavier and faster. He slowly caressed my breasts, at first appearing to wash them but after a minute had past and his hands still lingered, I was sure he was just enjoying them.

“I don’t mind at all.” I said, wanting to give him some confirmation that I was enjoying the attention to detail, I leant my head back against his chest and closed my eyes to enjoy the sensation. He let the loofa go and slid his hands around, slowly squeezing and massaging my chest. Letting his fingers glide over my nipples, which were getting harder at his touch. He intermittently pinched each one, I moaned a little, not intending to, but rather unable to controll it. His hands started to take turns at exploring more of my body.

“You’re really beautiful and soft, you feel amazing.” he sighed in my ear.

In a lot of ways I wanted it to stop but I also couldn’t seem to say no. I was so heavily conflicted between my attraction and fear of the level of intensity. I’d always been scared of Henry in that way, I always felt like I’d die of thirst without his attention, but I also felt like I’d drown in the emotion attached to it. He had, and probably always would be ‘The one’, as stupid as that sounded. He wasn’t the guy I imagined fucking without strings attached, he was so much more to me. He came with the dream of the life after, the simple life; full of laughter and light. We’d spent eight years talking everyday, never tiring, never losing interest. He was always a passing ship in the night, one of us always in a relationship, the unobtainable and that felt so safe. However, right now, we were both alone, together. Everything about him felt so right, his hands on my body, his presence, the way we fit together so well, just lying on him watching TV or even now, in the bath, it just felt so much like I was a part of him and he was a part of me.

I tensed up and he felt it, he stopped touching me instantly.

“Evelyn, are you ok?” He didn’t say Cat, he used my actual name not the nickname everyone called me.

“I just…” I turned in the water, sitting up and slipping my legs over his to face him, “Can we do this?”

“Only if you want to?” He looked at me puzzled.

“I mean, with you? can it be casual? Isn’t it always going to be more?”

“Cat, it can mean whatever you want it to, or I can stop right now if you want and I’ll go get dressed. You know how I’ve always felt about you, but also, I respect you. It can just be fun, if that’s all you want at the moment. I’ve never been able to do this kind of thing without the connection, but I already have that with you and nothing will ruin that. All I can think in this moment is that fucking you would feel right, for once Cat, don’t overthink.”

I stared at him intensely. Was he just saying what I wanted to hear? Am I going to hurt him? am I going to hurt us? This is the type of thing that’s going to invoke a few days worth of reckless behaviour from me and I was well aware of my patterns.

“I really want to,” I admitted “my body is screaming at me to, but, I don’t want to hurt you.” I was watching his face intently for any sign that this could be wrong.

“I rather be hurt 1000 times then never feel you,” he put his hands back on my hips starting to pull me down onto his lap. “I need to know what it feels like to be inside you, I need to watch your perfect body bounce, I need to see your face as you feel me inch by inch, I don’t care about myself right now. I need to know what it feels like to make you cum.”

Fuck, he knew how to talk when he wanted to. He knew what was in my head and he knew how I felt. He also knew I wasn’t going to back down now. I hated that he knew me. I couldn’t help myself, I managed to lie to myself in that moment, maybe it could just be fun, maybe it wouldn’t have an effect on the dynamic of our friendship.

We’d talked a lot about sex with the distance keeping us safe, some nights spent exchanging fantasies, messages and videos. I knew everything about what he wanted, the magic words that would tip the scales for him, and he knew everything about how my body worked and what I might do. We both knew I was far more experienced, him only having a few sexual partners in the past worried me, but not enough to stop me. The logical part of my brain had shut down. I needed to be the dominant one here, I needed to show him. He could talk smoother then I ever could, but I could use my body.

“Cat we don’t have to- ” I cut him off and grabbed his throat, I enjoyed that feeling earlier, I wanted to try it again. I pulled myself to him and kissed him deeply, his hand raised to mine in shock but he relented and kissed me back. I kneeled over him and used my other hand to stroke his hard cock under the water. His hands slid across my body, I’m not sure he knew what to do with my sudden assault on his senses. I felt him moan into my kiss as I moved my hand up and down the length of his shaft, taking my time to rub slowly around his head, feeling it twitch in response. I released my grip off his neck and used my hand to move his hands to my ass which was hovering over him, he seemed to follow the motions amazingly. I continued to stroke his cock, surprised that it was larger then I expected.

I climbed further onto him sliding the head of his cock gently up and down, from my entrance to my clit, as I kept up the motion of sliding my hand up and down his shaft. He was starting to put pressure on my hips, begging to get inside me each time I slid up and down on him. The wetness of my cunt so different to the water of the bath. I teased him with each movement as I used his dick as a toy for my own stimulation, I wanted him to force me down onto it, he seemed to yield finally, grabbing my hips properly and pulling me onto him, inch by inch. I’d been turned on for the entire bath, I felt so swollen and as he forced his way in we both gasped, breaking the passionate kiss, locked into inhaling each other’s breath. By the time he was fully sheathed inside of me I was almost shaking, he fit so well, I wasn’t going to last long at all. I kissed him again, biting his lip and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

I started riding him like my life depended on it, like every groan he made brought me closer to an edge I was ready to fall off a thousand times. I grinded harder against him, wanting to be so full I would never need to be fucked again, and it worked so well, up and down, him enjoying my bubble covered breasts as they bounced in his face. I felt the familiar buildup of my orgasm coming on as I rode harder and faster. I gripped him tighter as my pussy clenched around his cock, unable to keep my mouth shut I let out a very audible moan of pleasure, I leant back enjoying the aftershocks of my orgasm.

He seemed to be enjoying the expression on my face before he got a serious look, grabbing my hips harder than before and using my body. He was stronger than I expected, I wasn’t doing any of the work anymore, just enjoying feeling him lift me and pull me back down onto him as the water splashed around us and his face started to tense. I slid my hand back under water to rub my clit, if he was coming, I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to come again with him. It wasn’t hard for me to get close again, he was so focused, grunting and fucking me hard, I was loving the view, the way his arms and body tensed, the focus on his face, the way he threw his head back, moving me like I weighed nothing, grinding his hips up to mine.

I knew what would get him there, from every fantasy he’d sent me and I knew he’d fucking love it and hate it.

“You have to pull out, I’m not on birth control.” I teased at him, he agreed and started going harder than before, I could feel him twitching inside me, I knew I was going to cum when he did. I wrapped my arms around him and started fucking him back again, our hips meeting. He was starting to shake, he stopped suddenly.

“I’m going to cum, I have to stop.” He gasped, I knew what we both wanted to hear. I grabbed his throat again and held onto his back as tight as I could, continuing to grind against him as deeply as I could.

“Don’t you fucking dare, I’m not letting go, you’re going to fill me or we’ll never do this again.”

His eyes lit up with a touch of fear and excitement as he gave in, finally thrusting back knowing that I needed his seed, it only took a moment and I felt him explode inside me, shooting layer after layer of warm cum into me. My body fucking loved it, exploding into an orgasm that just kept clenching for what felt like minutes around his cock as it pulsed.

I let my grip loosen as I let my head fall against his, having an exhausted giggle, he smiled and laughed with me, wrapping his arms around my body and occasionally thrusting to see my face as we recovered our breath.

“You can’t do that or I’m going to need to cum again” I breathed, trying to lift myself off him, he held me down.

“Do it.” he whispered with an evil grin, I started to grind on him softly, it wasn’t going to take much. He leant me back and watched me, finally using his fingers to rub my clit, as my breasts bounced freely and he met each of my thrusts again, he was watching me so intimately but I couldn’t keep my eyes open. It was happening again, I gasped and held his arms tightly as I shuddered with another orgasm. He seemed so pleased with himself, kissing me again softy down my neck.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, moving my hair from my face “My good little cum slut.”

The language surprised me, but more in a way that I enjoyed. We both got out of the bath and wrapped ourselves in towels.

The bathroom was completely flooded, I giggled and bent to pick up my wet clothes. I felt his hand lift my towel at the back as I did, still bent over I looked back at him confused.

“Just admiring my work” he smiled that damn smile again, it always amazed me how confident men got after you fulfilled a fantasy. I moved into a presenting pose and let him enjoy the view of his cum dripping from my pussy for a moment, he slicked his finger up and down my slit.

“hey, no touching unless your prepared to finish the job again.”

He kept going, sliding his fingers back and forth over my clit before sliding his fingers inside of me, pushing his dripping cum back in. This man was determined to make sure I couldn’t think for a week.

But that’s when we heard a knock at the door.

by Eeveelynn for Literotica

River Fantasy

Piper's Posts — Sun, 15 Dec 2024 11:13:00 -0600

Village reunion turns steamy, fueled by erotic river sighting.

by Kuntry yute. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The rain burst out of nowhere, as it usually does. One minute the afternoon was bright and sunny, then the sun just disappeared behind a big dark cloud and the rain cut loose.

No one was in the house but me, with Mama off to see her church sister. The rain was heavy. You could see it in the fat drops and the fast-moving muddy streams that turned the yard into a small riverbed. But the best part for me was the pounding on the zinc roof, as if the rain was playing a whole heap of kettle drums at the same time. The wind picked up at times, lashing the large banana leaves into a crazy dance, like big, awkward hands flapping to the heavy rain drops. I watched and listened, content inside the warm, dry house. It was a good mood, like I could roll with the energy and rhythm and dance to my heart’s content, or get a sheet and curl up in the big couch, to just rest or doze off.

I had something else in mind though, and the first real buzz of anticipation and excitement coursed through my body, leaving me tingling and warming up all over, especially down in my belly bottom and my nipples. The sensation cooled off a bit as I thought about Mama coming home sooner than expected. She had almost caught me once, and I was saved only by the fact that she had left her keys and had to call me to open the door. She had her keys now, and the rain would mask any sound of her approach.

But I wasn’t going to be denied. This moment was too good to waste. The living room had a big window that looked out on the yard and provided a full view of anyone approaching, as long as the curtain was not fully drawn. I could enjoy the comfort of the love seat and keep an eye out for Mama; all I needed to do was turn it around to face the yard.

I easily flipped the couch around, nervous excitement overtaking my senses and body as I imagined the delights just seconds away. I quickly washed my hands in the bathroom, pulled a couple items from my drawer and hustled back to the living room. I started opening the curtains and recoiled in shock and irritation.

Someone – looks like a man - was out there in the rain, splashing up on the verandah and depositing a rickety black umbrella in a corner before knocking on the door. The umbrella was useless, on account of all the water he was busy brushing off his arms and legs. I stashed my items under the couch seat and opened the door, intent on quickly dealing with him and getting to my pleasure.

“Hi Cherry” he greeted after a slight pause, surprised uncertainty in his eyes as he brushed a few droplets from his face. I figured he was expecting to see Mama instead of me.

“Tony, right?” I responded with a smile.

“Yes,” he said, grinning suddenly at me from his rain-wet face.

My irritation was dissolving rapidly as I looked him over. I had glimpsed him three nights ago, the first time since he had left for university two years ago. Many people didn’t go to university from this village, and people talked about him a lot, including his mother who couldn’t stop boasting about her bright son. It was annoying, especially for someone like me that didn’t make it to university.

I wasn’t annoyed now though. He was short and stocky when we were kids. He wasn’t tall now, just medium height, about two inches taller than my five foot eight. The stocky look was still there, but more athletic, like he was a sprinter or one of those American football players. As a boy his father used to give him bad haircuts, and it worsened the look of his face which was already ordinary with the flat nose and large, almost bulging eyes. Nobody would call him handsome now, but he had grown up well, sporting a clean shaved head, with eyes that were sharp and intelligent looking, and a face that was strong and hard, like a thick chunk of cured pimento wood.

His eyes moved quickly, up and down, just as I had done. But it was open and forward, the type of look that said he was not afraid to show his hand. He wanted me to know he was seeing me as a woman, a woman that grabbed his interest, and he wanted me to react to that interest.

I was interested in him for real, no doubt about it. I had felt it when I saw him last Friday, that flash of sexual curiosity, seeing him all sexy and relaxed. He had looked at me quickly, followed by a smile of recognition and a polite greeting. I smiled back, blushing and hoping he hadn’t seen the interest in my eyes. Now I grinned to myself, thinking how smooth he was then in the public place, acting all polite and decent, when he was clearly interested and just biding his time.

There was a prickling on my skin, leaving goosebumps on my arms and my nipples felt like someone was giving them little electric shocks. My pumpum twitched suddenly with pleasure, a sweet, achy pleasure. I was shocked at the reaction in my body and suddenly my thighs squeezed together, as if to keep the feelings trapped down there and not affecting the rest of me, for fear he could see his effect on me.

He was like a godsend, appearing as if by miracle, just when I was in the mood to frig myself with the weather and Mama cooperating so well. But with some effort I reined in the feelings. There was desire in his eyes, but I couldn’t assume he was planning to do anything about it right now.

“You here to see Mama?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said, after a little hesitation. “My Mama asked me to drop off this partner money, and I couldn’t pass up the chance to see you.”

“I see you develop some sweet tongue,” I said saucily but I am sure he could tell I was flattered by his words.

“Sweet tongue yes, but truth too,” he said boldly, eyes lively with daring.

“Well, it’s good to see you too,” I said, giving him a little something in return, although I was warming up to him much faster than my words would indicate.

He held out his hand, offering an envelope that bulged slightly with the contents.

“I’ll give it to her,” I said, taking the envelope.

He stood there for a moment, eyes thoughtful, looking me over. I watched him, imagining the wheels turning in his head, figuring out how he should proceed. I waited, realizing belatedly with a touch of embarrassment that my lips were parted in anticipation of his next move.

“You want to dry those clothes?” I asked suddenly, surprising myself with the question. “Could give you time for the rain to ease off and you can tell me about life in Kingston.”

He looked at me sharply, surprise on his face. He looked down at his body with a frown, no doubt seeing and feeling the wetness in his shirt and pants. He looked at me, eyes steady, thinking it over.

“Ok,” he said with a shrug and smile. “Do you have something for me to put on or am I supposed to wait naked?”

“Not a bad idea,” I laughed back at him, knowing he was seeing the devilry in my eyes. “Don’t worry though, I’ll get you some of Papa’s clothes. He doesn’t need them anymore.”

I found a clean set of pants and shirt that looked close enough for his size. It was far from perfect though, because he was shorter and more muscular than Papa. The shirt was tight across his chest and arms and the pants were snug in the butt and crotch. He looked funny and sexy at the same time. He went and sat in my couch, making himself comfortable while I draped his wet clothes on the warm grate behind the fridge.

We talked for a bit, catching up on each other’s life over the past two years. I felt jealous, because he seemed to be doing so much and here I was wasting away in the dead-end village. He surprised me though, by praising what I was doing.

“Honey is a big deal,” he said, a little frown on his face. “You just need to scale up and get connected to the right distribution channels.”

I didn’t go to university, but I was always learning shit from free college courses and podcasts when the internet complied, so I knew what he was talking about.

“Scale up needs money and time, and that’s time I have to put in my regular job.”

“Let me think about it,” he replied, then leaned back in the couch with a strange smile on his face. “I see you still go to the river?”

“What?” I asked, frowning at him. I was perplexed as to why he would ask about the river.

“Those days were exciting even with the hard work,” he said with a longing look on his face. “Remember how we all used to play after the wash? Hide and seek, catch crawfish, eat guineps till we couldn’t walk properly…”

“Oh boy,” I smiled, remembering. “Those were the good old days. Kids nowadays just want to play video games. No love for nature. We don’t even wash clothes down there anymore. That life pretty much done.”

“Yet you were there yesterday,” he said quietly, his eyes still on my face.

“You were at the river?” I asked him, a nervous type of anxiousness spreading slowly through my belly.

He nodded silently, watching me. It might not be too bad, I thought to myself. Maybe he saw me going down or coming up, not necessarily in the river itself. But his next words shattered my flimsy hope.

“That big pool with the mango tree over it. I was heading for it, but just as I was about to climb down the bank, I saw you. I immediately thought of leaving but I just stood there, as if I had no power to move. I’m sorry for snooping on you but it was as if you hooked me right there, and the more I looked the more you pulled me in.”

I was ashamed and angry. In truth I really didn’t mind if someone sees me naked if I know and can make the decision for myself. But this was Peeping Tom stuff, him seeing me and copping a look without me knowing.

“You were snooping on me?” I snapped at him.

“Your fault for bathing out in public,” he said calmly, a little smile dancing across his lips, no doubt enjoying himself.

It was true. I knew it could happen but figured and hoped no one would be around. I was dying for a river bath; to have all the water I need to wash freely without thinking about conserving water. At least I didn’t bathe fully naked, although the flimsy slip was not much covering, especially when wet.

“What was so enticing?” I asked. His reasoning had taken away my excuse for being angry, and I decided to focus on the exciting part of what he had said.

“Everything,” he said, a faraway look in his eyes, faraway and happy. “I could just look at you all day, if you were just standing there in that wet slip, sticking to you like a second skin, you all curvy and sweet. But when you start to wash yourself it just make it sweeter.”

I am accustomed to men telling me how I look, in explicit terms. This was different. It’s amazing how two men could make it clear that they want bed you, and one leaves you disgusted while the other makes you wat to take off your panties right away. Tony was the panty dropping type.

He looked me in the eye once more and shuffled around in the couch, trying to make himself more comfortable, maybe because the pants were too tight for him. Without thinking my eyes slipped down to his crotch and they popped in surprise when I saw the clear outline of his hood to one side. I was surprised but the achiness in my pussy ramped up even more as I imagined him without pants.

He must have caught my eyes, and I am sure now that I wanted him to see me checking him out like that. His expression changed, his eyes boring into me, so intense that it was like I was not wearing any clothes and he could see all my nakedness and even into my thoughts.

it was surprising to me how comfortable and excited I felt, all alone here with him. Somehow, he had put me at ease without trying too hard, just by being himself. It helped a lot that I was already in the mood to play, but he sure revved up my interest.

It was strange. He wasn’t really my type. He was this nice, book type, not the big-talking rude boys I tend to like, even though they were not the best for me. Tony was different in a good way from way back, and his time in the city sure made him a sexy, confident man.

“So what exactly got you so spellbound at the river?” I asked finally.

“All of you, but it was a different level of wonder when you started to soap up,” he said, pulling my attention firmly back from my thoughts and squarely on to him. “It was like watching you caressing yourself for my benefit, caressing and massaging, your body wet and covered in soap bubbles. And the way you did it…it was not just a chore, not just cleaning yourself. I could tell you were enjoying it, and that part was a huge turn on too.”

“I love taking a bath,” I said, my mind all woozy with the beauty and sexiness of what he was saying. I always love poetry and he was speaking the sweetest, hottest verses to me right now

“And I can’t forget,” he continued, eyes glazed and slowly licking his lips at the memory. “You squatted down a bit, spreading your legs wide, and the slip ride up, showing off all of them firm, smooth thighs. And then you move that soapy rag up between them. I couldn’t see exactly what you were doing, but I could see your hand moving in, way in, then slowly and firmly up and down, soap suds covering all of your hand, your upper thighs and pussy area. You keep washing, up and down, then around in little circles, then in and out. I managed to look at your face a few times, hoping you were not noticing me watching you. But your eyes were closed by then…as if you were in another world. Your body trembled then, vibrating…and when you opened your eyes you looked so blissful…the joy on your face was real as your hand moved under the dress.

"Afterwards you waded into deeper water and sink down till the water was up to your chest. You bobbed up and down, rinsing off. You weren’t wearing any brassiere and your breasts bounced up and down, so round and juicy looking with the wet slip plastered tight on them. I couldn’t take my eyes off them. You were smiling at this time, a little smile, but a real smile…and I wonder how good it must feel to get such pleasure from washing your pumpum.”

He stopped talking and I realized I was staring at him, my mouth wide open, hardly breathing, legs turning jelly. My body felt hot all over and I knew I was in heat. My pumpum was fluttering, steady and strong, like another heart was down there between my legs. There was a wetness too, warm and sticky, like a raw honey spring was starting to open up inside of me.

“It was a good feeling,” I said to him, but decided not to mention that all that trembling and vibrating was me cumming. Maybe he knew and decided not to go there too. “And that’s what has you running over here to see me?”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “It was the exclamation point. I had seen you a couple days before and was going to check on you, but that just sealed the deal. I knew I had to come and see you”

“And I am glad you did. You are just what I need with this rain pouring down out there.”

I was shocked at how forward I sounded, but he had me feeling a certain way and I was in no condition to resist him, not that I wanted to at all.

“I wished you would say that,” he responded, flexing his strong legs, spreading them wide, causing his cock to shift and stand out even more in the tight pants. He followed my eyes, then looked back at me. “Come over here. I want to feel what it’s like to stroke your pussy the way you did.”

The rain was still lashing outside as I walked the short distance over to him. I stopped a few inches from him, and he leaned forward, his face in line with my crotch. He looked up at me, eyes locked with mine, a little question in his eyes. I realized he was asking permission, even though I would bet he was picking up my sex scent and knew I was ready for him. I smiled at him and he smiled back, the question disappearing from his face.

He was the man now, eyes heavy with desire and a lot of good, healthy lust. His wide nostrils opened up, like a jack donkey scenting the ginnie in heat. His tongue was out, slowly moistening the thick lips, moving slowly back and forth.

His hands went around my waist and down to my ass, his fingers strong and possessive, gently squeezing my big, soft ass. I grunted as the pleasure build up some more. He looked up at me, satisfied with my response, then got bolder. His hands went under my dress and palmed my ass cheeks again. This time I felt the hard warmth of his hands on my bare ass, because I was wearing one of those thongs with just a little string buried deep between my ass cheeks.

“You feel good,” he said softly, his hands busy, roaming all over my ass, fingertips finding and tracing the two dimples on my left cheek, then stroking all over, exploring me to his heart’s content.

“I like it, don’t stop,” I encouraged him, leaning in to brace myself on his broad shoulders. He was like a rock, hard and firm, and I leaned into him as he owned my ass, kneading and stroking, then spreading the cheeks apart, so wide until I could feel my pussy lips opening slightly.

“No stopping,” he said again, looking up at me. He kept his eyes on mine and I felt his fingers snaked under the strings of the thongs and slowly rolled them down my thighs. He carefully removed them from around my feet, then tucked them in the pants pocket. He flipped up the hem of the dress and his head disappeared from my view.

He sniffed my pussy. Sniffed again, his lips so close to my flesh I could feel his warm breath on the sensitive lips.

“You smell good,” he said from beneath the dress, his voice muffled but clear enough for me to hear him above the crashing rain. “It smell like good pussy.”

He stood up suddenly and pointed to the couch. “Sit down,” he said, his voice all of a sudden sounding like a command. I quickly complied, body buzzing with anticipation.

“Lean back,” he commanded again. “Make yourself comfortable.”

I leaned back meekly, totally at his mercy. He seemed to tower over me, standing there, legs braced, his dick thick and hard in my dead Papa’s pants.

“Spread your legs. Put them up on the armrest. I want you wide open for me.”

I hesitated a bit, but he was having none of it. “Just do it,” he said firmly, his bare foot nudging mine.

I did as he demanded, lifting my legs up on to the armrest. The dress ride up all the way on my thighs to my belly. I lay there like that, fully skin out, exposing all of my wide-open thighs and my pussy to his eyes. And the doubt hit me hard as I lay there like that, doubt filling up my mind with negative thoughts, doubt that he would be disappointed.

He didn’t say or do anything, just stand there, eyes fastened on my pumpum, his mouth hanging open and breathing hard. He looked like he was in a spell, like the pussy put obeah on him. The doubt vanished and I smiled with relief and satisfaction. And I could feel the warmth spreading all over me again, starting out in my open pussy, like there was a fire growing down there, growing and spreading out.

“What a way you like the pussy, ehh?” I asked him, although it was more like telling him.

“Yeah,” he breathed, kneeling down and shuffling in between my legs.

“What you like?”

“How it’s pretty,” he said, eyes roving over it. “So fat and juicy looking. The way you trim it low I can see all the meat. So plump and fresh looking. And the way it’s opening up, showing off the sweet puffy brown lips and that wet, pink insides. Look at the clit…I can’t wait to lick it good.”

“Lick…??”

He must have seen the shock on my face because he laughed and firmly nodded his head, making it clear he was going to do whatever he wanted.

“Never get your pussy licked? Anybody ever eat you out?”

“No,” I said, shocked and embarrassed at the same time, but the excitement hit me hard and I feel my pussy spasm, the hole opening and closing like the mouth of a red snapper out of water.

He moved fast without any warning. One minute he was staring at my pumpum pulsing before him and the next second his head dive in and his tongue was swiping through my pussy from bottom all the way up to the top. It was electric, his thick warm tongue licking my wet flesh li

Annie Rejects Her Shame

Piper's Posts — Sat, 14 Dec 2024 09:41:00 -0600

Annie finally rejects her abstinent life and finds how much joy a cock can bring her.

By spr1987 for Literotica. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

"Oh my God… it feels so hot in my hand… and how can it be this hard and this soft feeling at the same time?"

These are the thoughts racing through my mind, as I feel a real live cock in my hands for the first time. I know what you are thinking, "You are 19 years old Annie, and you are pretty hot looking… so how can this be the first time you have had a cock in your hands?"

First, thank you for saying I'm hot. As a petite red head with a larger than normal pair of tits, I think I'm pretty hot also, but it is always nice to hear it. Second, I was raised in a very religious home, and sex was absolutely forbidden. In fact, my mother even made a habit of checking my panties and bedsheets to make sure that I wasn't masturbating.

Yes, I realize now how twisted that sounds. But it was how I was raised, to think that self-pleasure and sex were mortal sins. Hell, even now I feel guilty every time I touch myself. Not to mention that right now, I am feeling pretty wrong emotionally, about this cock in my hands.

Although I am feeling the guilt from years of conditioning, I can't help feeling a rush of excitement all through my body, as I squeeze and rub this thick cock. I am assuming it is thick. I have no basis for this judgement because, as I said several times already, this is my first cock. All I know is that I can't get my small hand around it and when I stack both of my hands, there is still all of the big swollen head left sticking out. My God that head looks big. I catch myself thinking that it looks like the helmet of one of those stormtrooper guys from Star Wars. I have to swallow the laugh that is threatening to burst out of me.

I trace my fingers around that big helmet, and I am surprised at how smooth the skin is. I trace my finger along the groove in the front and the whole cock Jumps in my hands. I look up at the guy's face, wondering if I did something wrong or hurt him or something. I see that he has his eyes squeezed shut tightly and his mouth is open in an audible moan. I make a mental note that this is a good thing. At this same time, I feel and see liquid leak out of the cock's slit. I touch it and I like how slick it feels on my fingers. I rub it between my thumb and finger and relish the slick feeling. Then I run my slick fingers around the smooth cock head. I love how slippery it feels on the smooth skin of the head. I trace my slick fingers all around the edges of the cock's helmet.

"It is like I am trying to memorize every detail of my fascinating new plaything."

I run my other hand down to the bottom of his shaft and discover his balls. I cup them and feel them move around in their soft wrinkled sack. I roll them around in my fingers, enjoying how they move so fluidly. I sort of ring my fingers around behind them and pull them down, enjoying how the sack stretches tight and I can feel the balls hard in my hand. I squeeze, just to see what this will feel like. The guy almost screams out, "Oh my God, Yes," when I do that. I make another mental note, that this is a good thing. Then I wonder, what will happen if I squeeze his balls at the same time as I rub my finger along his tender groove? "Fuck yes." he screams out, as I try this experiment.

Well, that confirms my thesis, I smile to myself and continue to gently pulse his big full balls in one hand, while teasing his sensitive head with my other. I think to myself, I am so glad that he likes this because I really love how this feels for me when I am doing it. I start to wonder,

"How the Hell, have I never heard about how amazing cocks and balls feel?"

I have talked with quite a few other girls about their sexual experiences, and I can't remember a single one telling me how amazing cocks felt in their hands.

"I fucking Love this,"

I think to myself as I really concentrate on the feeling of this cock and those full balls in my hands.

Then the thought enters my head, "If it feels this good in my hands, how will it feel in my mouth?" I immediately hear my mother's voice in my head chastising me, "You should be ashamed of yourself Annabeth, for even thinking such a thing."

Then I tell the guilt wielding mother in my head, "Shut the fuck up Mother… and it is Annie… Nobody calls me Annabeth anymore." Then I show her that she is no longer the boss of me, as I take this big cock into my mouth. Well, to be honest, I take the head and maybe another inch or so in my mouth. "My God, this thing is big. Are they all This big?" I wonder to myself as I feel that swollen thick head push into the soft spot at the roof of my mouth.

I pull my mouth off of it enough, so that I can suck my lips around the helmet. I run my tongue around the smooth head, as I suck my cheeks around it. "Oh my God, this feels so exciting and so naughty," I think to myself as I feel like I will pee myself from the overwhelming exhilaration. I am suddenly yanked from my moment of bliss, when I feel the guy's hands grab my head almost violently. Again, thinking that I hurt him, I try to pull my mouth off of his cock. He latches on even harder and almost begs, "No, Please don't stop… keep doing That…"

Relieved that I am not doing it wrong, I go back to doing what I was just doing. As I run my tongue around his smooth head and down the shaft as far as I can reach my tongue, I moan around the cock, as I recover my overwhelming feeling of exhilaration at the feel of this cock on my lips, and on my tongue, and on the fleshy insides of my cheeks. I slide all of them over and around this cock, as I rediscover the feeling of his big balls in my hand.

Overcome by the sensations of this cock in my mouth, I can't stop my other hand from sliding under my skirt and into my thong. Um, I am so fucking wet. I push two fingers into my wet pussy. My pussy feels so wet and squishy and warm around my fingers. I wonder if this is what his cock feels when it is in my mouth. I start to imagine that my fingers and his cock are the same. I start to push my mouth on his cock more and more, as I push my fingers deeper and deeper inside myself. I move up and down on his cock at the same speed as I am pushing my fingers into me. When I begin to gag myself by forcing his cock into my mouth so fast and so deep, I realize how fast and desperately I am finger fucking myself. It is at that exact moment that I push myself over the edge and cum Streaming around his cock.

I didn't realize how close he was, until at that same time, I feel his cock swell even larger and twitch in my mouth as I feel hot surges hitting the back of my throat. Because I am in the middle of an uncontrolled scream,

"I feel his cum continue to shoot directly down my throat.
I can actually feel it coating my throat."

Then I start coughing uncontrollably, because, as I was riding my overpowering orgasm, I was also desperately gasping for breath. I hope I didn't breathe his cum into my lungs. For a fleeting moment, I wonder if it is possible to drown from cum in my lungs?

As I get control of my breathing, I realize that I am not going to drown. I am twice as relieved, knowing that my mother will not have to recover my body from the university, after learning that I died by drowning in cum, as I sucked the cock of a guy I just met. Jeff… or Jake… or is it Jim? I am pretty sure it is a "J" name. I hope it is the overpowering orgasm I just had that is keeping my brain from recalling his name, and not the fact that I am a total slut who sucks the cock of a guy she doesn't know the name of.

As I contemplate how much of a slut I really am, I start to think,

"Well, if I am going to condemn myself for being a slut, I might as well go all the way."

In that moment, I decide that I am getting fucked for the first time. Well, that is if this guy… J.. something, can get his cock hard again. Realizing the decision is in my hands… literally… I am holding his softening cock in my hand… I start to slowly squeeze and stroke it.

Figuring that I should get J… J… J-dog involved in the decision, I say to him,

"Um, I loved how your cock felt in my mouth… I would love even more to feel what he is like in my pussy… You want to feel your big, thick cock deep inside me?"

"Fuck Yeah," he enthusiastically agrees. Then in a more subdued way he adds, "But you got to give me a minute… You know… to get ready…"

I do in fact know what he means. I can feel his cock in my hand, clearly not ready to do the pushing that I so desperately need right now. It is not an unpleasant feeling though. I actually really enjoy the soft, flexible feeling of his cock in my hand. It is not fully soft, but just hard enough to weigh heavily in my hand. I squeeze it and I love the way it compresses. It feels like a very warm stress toy. I realize how much I would love to have a cock in this exact state, when I am stressed in class or doing an assignment in my dorm. I shake it and flop it around in my hand and love the way it moves.

"I am suddenly jealous, that guys get to have these things with them all the time. Then I wonder if they hold them and squeeze them when they need stress relief?"

He taps me on the head and rips me from the labyrinth of my twisted thoughts. It is then that I realize that his cock is Very much up for the task at hand… again, my hand…

"Don't you think you should take off your clothes? Or do you just want me to bend you over and flip up your skirt?" he asks me.

"Oh My," I think to myself, as I suddenly get the image in my head of him forcing me over the arm of the couch and taking me from behind like an animal. Battling with myself in my mind, I think I should lead him to think I am a lady and do this in a dignified manner. However, I realize that I fucking need this Bad and I need it Now.

Standing up, I reach under my skirt and almost tear my thong as I pull it off my hips and down my legs. Then I turn toward the arm of the couch and lean over it, as I spread my legs. As I turn to look back at him, the desperate look on my face, is all the answer he needs.

I keep looking back as he aims his cock toward my wet, waiting, and Very willing pussy. He doesn't even use his hands as he pushes it against my swollen and Very sensitive pussy lips. He moves back and forth slightly, making his cock slide along my wet groove. Oh my God, the feeling of the big smooth head is even more amazing against the lips of my pussy, than it was against the lips of my mouth. I squeeze my pussy, trying to kiss it… to suck it into me… I feel his cock start to push my lips open. I realize that he is not moving, it is me, who is moving back, desperately trying to fuck myself onto his cock. I feel him slightly pull back with each of my thrust back. I look up to see him grinning at the desperate look on my face. I finally beg out loud,

"Please… put it in… Please… fuck me… Please… Fuck me Now…"

Without a word he pushes his cock right into me. I gasp out loud as I literally feel like all of the air is pushed out of my lungs. I am not sure how deep he went with that first thrust, but I feel like I am impaled on the damn thing. I feel so full that I am afraid I will tear in half, if he pushes any deeper. Surprisingly, it is not painful though. Luckily for both of us, I broke my hymen in a tragic accidental fall on a dildo… Okay, I was masturbating. I said my mother made me feel guilty about it. I never said that I didn't do it. And thank God that I did. This may be the first real cock inside me, but it is Definitely not the first time I have had cock like objects inside me. And my God, the number of cock like objects I have inside me… Well, let's just say I have been training Very hard for this moment.

Yet, for all of the training I have done, None of it compares to what this feels like for real. Fuck, the heat and hard flexibility of this cock inside me… It is almost indescribable. I feel like he is entering my soul. I feel like his cock is in control of my body and mind. I want this… I want this a Lot. Then, just when I am deciding that this feeling is better than anything I can imagine, he starts to move slowly out and then back in… and it gets better… Much better. I feel like he is turning me inside out, as he slowly pulls his cock out of me. Then he holds it with just the head inside me, keeping me spread so wide. I get desperate for more. Why the Fuck is he holding it there?

I look back pleadingly. I see him smile at me with a devilish grin and then, Slam, he pushes all the way back inside me. Three things happen at the same time.

I feel him pound deep inside me.

His big heavy balls Slap against my WAY oversensitive clit.

I actually see stars and lose control of my legs as I cum so hard that I am afraid I popped a blood vessel in my head.

I am not sure if I lose consciousness, but as I ride the most amazing orgasm of my life, I feel like I am flopping around like my whole body is made of jelly, as he continues to hammer away in and out of me. When I feel fluids gushing out of my pussy, I am mortified, thinking that I must have lost control of myself and peed all over his cock, balls and thighs.

He suddenly stops fucking, with his cock half inside me. I am afraid that he is grossed out by my loss of control. I am sure that I will be humiliated when everyone at the university hears about "Annie the incontinent slut". Then he surprises me by saying,

"Fuck Yeah… You're a squirter. I never fucked a squirter before. That was fucking amazing."

"That shit splashed out of you so hard, I felt like someone turned a hose on me."

With my face so red that I am sure it is glowing, I ask him, "So you are not grossed out by That?"

"Fuck No," he answers and then starts pushing his cock back in and out of me. I am embarrassed by the loud squishing and squelching sounds his cock is making as he fucks in and out of me. Then I feel a weird new feeling. It is like there is a surge of water into me with each thrust in, and a much stronger suction with each pull out. As I realize that I am building to another orgasm, he warns me, "I got to tell you, after I cum once, I can keep going for a Very long time after. The thoughts of this amazing cock fucking me for a Very long time, sends waves of exhilaration through me and I Clench around his cock, telling him,

"Give me All you got…
Fuck me hard and long…
fuck me until I can't walk."

My spontaneous haiku has the desired effect, and he Slams into me so hard that his hips Slap on my ass and it stings like he spanked me with his hand. I feel him grab my hips with both hands. He grabs so hard that I can feel his fingers dig into the soft flesh in the hollows of my hip bones. Then just as quickly he releases them, and I feel his hands reach up to unbutton my blouse. Feeling him fumbling with them, I reach up and take over. I quickly have the buttons undone and I wildly flap my arms trying to throw the blouse off of me.

As my blouse finally flies off my wildly flailing arm, I feel his hands grab my bra clasp and almost violently pull it open. Leaning forward like I am, the bra Snaps open and falls down my arms. My 36 double D tits that were straining hard against my bra, are now free and wildly flapping their wings trying to fly away. Well, more flopping than flapping. With each of his hard thrusts into me, I feel my heavy tits bounce forward and Slap against my neck and shoulders. Then I feel them recoil and Slap back against my rib cage and under my arms. Yes, in case you missed it, they are all natural and definitely out of my ability to control them.

He is relentlessly fucking me, and I can already feel my heavy tits start to ache from their wild flopping and bouncing. I am about to reach up to catch them with my hand and arm, to try to stop the bouncing, when I feel him reach around and cup each of my tits in his hands. I feel him hold them just enough, so that that they jiggle and bounce in his hands. The rubbing of my nipples on his palms is driving me fucking insane. He Squeezes my tits and weighs them appreciatively, as he tells me, "You've got fucking amazing tits. I love these big fucking tits."

Then for emphasis, he takes my nipples between his fingers and thumbs, and pulls, and rolls, and Pinches them, which pushes me over a cliff I wasn't even sure I was standing next to. "Fuck," I Scream out loud, as once again I feel my fluids gush out of me and my arms give out, as I fall on my face, having another overwhelming orgasm. As my pussy squeezes and spasms around his cock inside me, I keep getting electric shocks of overstimulation, which makes my orgasm continue like a series of explosions that won't end. All I can think about is the overpowering pleasure and the feeling of that cock filling me and touching me so completely. I have never done drugs, but I imagine this feeling of euphoria must be what drug addicts feel. I know right then and there that I will need to feel this all the time, from now on.

I am suddenly pulled from my post orgasm bliss, by a new sensation. As he continues to slowly push in and out of my pussy, he starts to lightly tease my sensitive butt hole with his thumb. It feels like he is thrumming my sensitive ring with his thumb, like it is a guitar string or something. There is something very naughty and very exciting about it. It is also sending electric shocks of excitement through my entire body with each thrum of his thumb. Each thrum seems to short circuit my brain and it also seems to excite every nerve inside my already overstimulated pussy. I feel my excitement being driven higher and higher. I feel like it will become too much for my body and mind to handle, and I will fucking explode.

"Fuck," I Scream out, as he changes from a thrumming of my butt hole to a thumping of his thumb on it. Oh my God… I have Never felt anything like this, and it is making my entire body twitch and spasm with each thump. He is doing it at a faster pace now and I can almost feel my pulse beating faster to match his thumping pace. I suddenly realize that I am loudly moaning in a rhythmic pattern, "Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh," over and over, with each thump of his thumb on my butt hole. I also realize that I am pushing back onto his cock desperately to meet his cock pushing into me, at the same pace. I also feel myself pushing back onto that fucking thumb, that is driving me insane.

Feeling how positively my body is reacting to his teasing, on the next thump, he doesn't stop. He pushes his thumb right past my tight ring. I loudly Gasp, "Oh," as I feel his thumb Pop past my tight butt hole. I notice immediately how wet and slippery his thumb is, from all of the fluids I recently squirted all over him. I also notice that his thumb doesn't feel anything like I thought it would. I had thought about anal sex before, but always dismissed the idea because I imagined that it would hurt quite badly. But this… this feels Very different than I feared it would. As I start to squeeze my butt around his thumb, sort of getting a better feel of my sudden intruder, I realize that he is slowly pushing and pulling it in and out of me, in time to his cock's motion in my pussy. I realize that I Really like this double stimulation.

I start to grind back again, pushing his cock and thumb into me harder and faster. I suddenly feel a desperate need for more. I want him fucking me deep and hard in both of my holes. An image enters my brain of getting fucked like this by two different men… two cocks… one in my pussy and one in my butt… oh my God… do I really want to feel a cock in my butt??? His cock is so much bigger than his thumb, but that damn thumb feels so fucking good right now… These are all the random, wild thoughts racing through my head as I come to the conclusion,

"Hell Yes, I want to know what his cock will feel like in my butt."

Before I can chicken out, I turn my head back and meekly tell him,

Virgin Business Major Makes Her First Million

Piper's Posts — Fri, 13 Dec 2024 06:11:00 -0600

The Art of the Deal finds some innovative applications.

By DDSECRETS. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Anna was a sophomore at Boston College. She was working toward a degree she no longer wanted to pursue. Her parents both lost their jobs due to the 2020 pandemic and she refused to take out a student loan to pay for her education. Things weren’t exactly going as planned.

Anna was no longer able to live on campus. The cost was outrageous and her parents couldn’t afford those living arrangements any longer. It made more sense to find a cheap apartment nearby which also required Anna to get a job.

No one was hiring. All the small businesses had been forced to shut down many months ago and never reopened. The restaurants had closed the dining areas and were only doing take out orders. Anna needed a flexible job so she could balance her school work, but there just wasn’t anything out there. She feared she would have to leave school and return home.

Anna was out walking with her friend college friend, Lisa, as both girls were looking for a job near their campus apartment. They wandered a little further away from their apartment as they would have liked to. They were walking through an area that had a bad reputation for drugs, crime and was known for its surplus of prostitutes. The girls also walked by a building that seemed a little out of place. It was a nice modern facility. It was clean, enclosed and had a security booth at the entrance and cameras every where they looked.

On the second floor of the building there was a sign that said, “Now hiring! Inquire inside”

Anna was curious and she told Lisa that she wanted to check the place out. They approached the security booth and asked about the building.

“Hey there!” Anna said; “I saw the sign on the second floor and was wondering what this place was.”

“It’s a massage therapy office.” The guard said uninterested.

“Do you know what they’re hiring for.”

“No, that’s a little above me, hun. If you want to check it out I can give you and your friend a pass so you could go inside and see for yourself. clip on these badges and your good to go. There is someone inside that can give you more information.”

“We would really appreciate that, thank you.”

The girls walked to what appeared to be the main entrance of the building. Anna pulled the door open and the inside foyer was dimly lit with earth tone colors. There was audio coming from all around and it appeared to be sounds of nature.

“Is that a running stream I hear?” Anna laughed.

“Yeah, it’s all very relaxing.” Said Lisa.

Anna saw the woman sitting behind a desk. The girls made their way over to the woman. She was slightly older than they were and she was very attractive.

“Hi, can I help you ladies?”

“Um, we were just walking by and noticed the sign outside that said you were hiring?” Anna asked.

“Yes, we are looking for a new masseuses.” The receptionist told them.

“Oh, ok Anna said. We probably shouldn’t be here then.” She laughed.

“Why not? The position pays well and you keep all your tips. The hours are flexible and the building is very secure. We accept only the best clientele here.”

Lisa looked at Anna unsure of herself. “My parents would kill me if I worked here.” Lisa admitted.

“I know. My parents wouldn’t be happy either, but I’d like to hear a little more.” Anna said. “If you want to wait here for me that’s fine, Lisa. But if you decide to leave then please take an Uber home. This area is scary.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” The receptionist offered. “I can have security bring you back to your place if you’d like. It’s no problem at all.”

Anna perked up; “Yeah that would be great. Lisa, just let them take you back and I’ll be home shortly. There is no reason to sit around here and wait for me.”

“Ok, I’ll take the ride.” Lisa responded. “Anna, please text me when you’re leaving so I know when to expect you and make sure security takes you home as well.”

“I will and I’ll let you know how it goes.”

The two girls hugged, and Lisa walked towards the door.

The receptionist announced; “There is a car waiting for you outside. It was Nice meeting you, Lisa.”

Lisa waived and exited the building.

The receptionist picked up the phone and began talking briefly.

“Anna, Maria will be down in a moment to speak with you. She is the manager here.”

“Oh, thank you so much.” said Anna with a smile.

Anna waited in the lobby looking at a series of ink blots that are hanging on the walls. She has no idea what she is looking at, but that’s probably the point of them being there in the first place.

A door opened and a woman in her late 30’s walked through. She is wearing a black skirt and heels. She has long black hair and looks Hispanic. Anna admired the attractive figure as she approached.

“Hi Anna, my name is Maria. I’m the manager here. What do you think of the place?”

“I love it. It’s so relaxing in here. The ink blots kept my attention while I waiting.” She smiled.

“All that the men see are boobs when they look at them. Why don’t you follow me and we will talk in my office?”

Maria led Anna through the set of doors. There were a series of doors that followed. There were no windows and everything seemed very discreet. The hallway was dimly lit and easy on the eyes.

As Anna continued walking down the hall she noticed that there was an open door. Anna peered in and noticed a young girl cleaning the room. Inside the room was a red masseuse table. It looked very comfortable. There were several shelving units with products on the shelves. There were several red lounge chairs in the room also. On the walls there where silhouette figures of women, that looked erotic. Anna then noticed a young woman come into sight. She had on a black skirt and heels like Maria. She was cleaning the room when she noticed Anna looking at her. The door promptly closed.

Maria had led Anna further through the hallway and arrived at her office. She walked through and the same silhouette pictures were handing on Maria’s walls as well.

“I noticed the same pictures hanging on one of the rooms as we walked by.”

“We like to keep our clients always thinking about women.” Maria said with a smile.

“So, you are interested in the position of masseuse? Do you have any experience? Don’t worry if you do not.”

“I’d like to know a little more about the position if you don’t mind? I have no experience as a masseuse. I’ve given my boyfriend a massage plenty of times, but I have no formal experience.”

“It sounds like you have enough experience to me, honey. We do a little bit more here aside from massages.”

“What’s the pay look like?”

“Well, that’s completely up to you. Our clients are all very wealthy. I guess it depends on the service you want to offer. The earning potential is only limited by the time you put in and you imagination.”

“My imagination?”

“Yes, if you are creative and don’t mind going the extra mile for your clients it could be very lucrative. We offer a base pay of $50 and hour. You make your own hours, but once you get going you will be working off your clients schedule and not your own. I’d say it would be pretty easy to make well over 10 thousand dollars a month working on just a few clients a week. Their tip is where you make your money. You keep 100% of the tip.”

“Well, how do you make money here, paying out such high hourly rates?”

“Like I said, our clients are all very wealthy. They tell us what they want and we give them a price. They always pay. And they pay cash. They do not like paper trails which I’m sure you understand.”

“Yeah of course, I get it. So who are these people?”

“Well, Anna, they are entreprenuers, politicians, actors, musicians, athletes. Anyone with a large bank account that’s looking for a fabulous, discreet no questions asked experience.”

“What do you mean experience? I thought this was an all massage therapy and that type of service?”

“It is and whatever else the client wants. If you are only comfortable with massages then I would match you with someone who is just looking for a massage. If you wanted to offer other experiences I would match you up with someone looking for what you’re offering.”

“What exactly do you offer here?”

“Anna, have you been sexually active with your boyfriend?”

“Oh wow, that’s like a real personal question. I guess so. We play around a lot.”

“Have you had sex? Given a blowjob? A hand job? Anything like that?” asked Maria.

“I’ve given a lot of hand jobs. ”

“What about blowjob?”

“I gave him one. He came in my mouth and there was so much it almost made me puke.” Anna grimaced as she recalled the experience.

“So I take it that you’ve never had sex then?

“No, I’m still a virgin.” Anna confided.

“How about your ass? Have you ever had anal sex?”

“Absolutely not!” Anna asserted.

“Well, Anna, you could make a lot of money here if you really wanted to. The gentlemen that come here would pay a lot of money for a girl offering services like you.”

“I really need the money, but I don’t think I could do those things with anyone else, but a boyfriend.”

“Give it a try dear. Why don’t you start off slowly and see where it goes? I mean, there are people out there that would pay a girl like you to just talked to them. Someone may ask you to take off your panties so they could smell them. These guys call here all the time asking for things that most of us normal people think is just silly, but to people who have the money to do anything they want, there is nothing silly to them. They make it happen. It’s all desire and impulse. ”

“Ok,” Anna agreed. “Let’s start off with a massage. They’re going to know I’m not experienced once I start working on them though.”

“Well, that’s actually going to be your selling point. You’re only 19 years old. You don’t have much experience with anything and people will flock to that. Your innocence is appealing.”

"Let’s do it. When do I start getting paid?” asked Anna.

“Right now if your ready. I’ll give you your uniform and once you are dressed you will be on the clock. I’ll be right back with your uniform.” Maria had Anna pose for an employee photo, then gave Anna a short visual gaze up and down her body, then went to get a uniform in her size.

Anna sat in the oversized chair that made her feel like she was in way over her head, but she was excited about making money to help pay her way through school. She took her phone from her purse, texting to let Lisa know that she was fine.

“You won’t believe this, but I’m starting work right now! Like this very minute!”

“I don’t believe it!” Lisa replied. “Anna what do you know about being a masseuse?”

“They said I have all the experience required lol.”

Maria then walked in with Anna’s uniform.

“I have to go. Talk to you later, Lisa.”

“Please be careful Anna!” Lisa replied.

Maria handed Anna her uniform. A Tight black dress and black high heels in her size.

“I have some great news.” Maria announced. “I made a call to a great client who was looking for someone with your credentials. He’s a younger man, but very wealthy! He made all his money in the stock market. He invested his entire inheritance in Tesla very early on and cashed out just recently when it peaked so as you can imagine how wealthy he is. We consider him our most important client.”

“So what does he want? Just a massage?”

“Actually, yes. He wants a massage and he wants to talk to you. I sent him a picture of you and he is very excited to meet you. I hope you don’t mind, but I showed him your photo.”

“Wow, you people are serious around here.” Anna said with a laugh. “Can I see what he looks like?”

“Sure, this is his profile.” Maria handed Anna her phone.

“He looks just like Superman.” Anna said with a laugh. “What’s his name? Oh my God I forgot his name.” She kept laughing.

“He does look like Henry Cavill doesn’t he?” Maria concurred.

“Yes, that’s it.” Anna recalled.

“That’s funny you think he looks like superman because he thinks you look like Mila Kunis.” Maria said as she laughed with Anna.

“People tell me that all the time.” She smiled. “So when does superman land? I was going to run out quick and get something to eat.”

“Oh, he is actually on his way here now. He was at the airport when I called him. He was about to fly to Miami. No lunch break yet, Anna.”

Maria then escorted Anna to her room down the hall.

“This is you. Make yourself at home. We can personalize it more during the week, but for now just put your gear close by so it’s in arms length when you need it. Do you know how to warm up your oils?”

“No, I’ve never used massage oils. Can you help me set up? It won’t take me long to catch on.”

“Of course. Oh, I almost forgot. I meant to tell you earlier, but there are other accessories; like condoms, lube and everything else you may need in the closet to the right of your massage bed. Now, you don’t have to use anything in the closet. That’s not what I’m saying, but they are there for you if you decide to change any plans.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” Anna said being stubborn.

Maria picked up her phone as a text came in.

“Oh, Edward is here. He’s parking below the building now and will come up the elevator. I’ll escort him to your room. Please remember to relax and that you are in charge. You only do what you are comfortable with. If that’s nothing then just give him a basic massage. That’s what he hired you for. Talking should be easy so do that as much as you can. I’ll be right in my office if you need anything.”

“Ok, and thank you for this opportunity, Maria.” Anna said with a bit of excitement in her voice.

“Of course.” Maria walked out and closed the door. She walked past her office to the elevator and awaited Edwards’s arrival.

The elevator doors opened and there stood Edward. He was wearing a light grey suit with a white shirt. He still had on his sunglasses. His hair was combed back and he appeared to be very confident.

“Edward, so glad I caught you before you got on your plane. It would have been tragic to miss such an opportunity.”

“Thank you, Maria. It’s nice to know you’re always looking out for my best interests. So where is she?”

“She’s in her room waiting. She’s very excited to meet you.”

Maria escorted Edward to the room. She opened the door and introduced them to each other.

“Anna, if you need anything you know where to find me. Edward, is a gentleman and he will treat you as such.”

Maria shut the door behind her.

“So you’re Anna? Maria told me you just started here maybe two hours ago?”

“Yes, I just started today. Not exactly sure what I’m doing here, to be honest.”

“How old are you?” he asked.

“I’m 19. I’ll be 20 in a few months.”

“Maria said you aren’t experienced. Sexually?”

“My boyfriend and I have played around a bit, but nothing too serious yet.”

“Your boyfriend? Does he approve of your new job?”

“He doesn’t know I took the job. He’s back home with his parents and I don’t think he can see this far.” She let out a nervous laugh.

Edward smiled at Anna. He wasn’t much older than she was. He just turned 30 years old and did not like meeting girls the old fashioned ‘clubbing’ way. Once they realize who he is it they became obsessed with his money.

“So what are you studying. I hear you go to Boston College. ”

“I’m going for business, but I’m thinking I choose the wrong field of study. I’m just not passionate about it. I wanted to be a doctor, but my parents talked me out of it. They said it’s a field that requires too much education. They wanted me working sooner rather than later.”

“That sounds like an awful way to make a decision that you have to live with for the rest of your life. You should always follow your heart. Don’t let anyone influence your decisions. Not even your parents.”

“It’s all a big mess right now. I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to afford school and my rent so I may be moving back home with them soon enough.”

Edward looked at Anna curiously. She was sweet & innocent, but also a very smart. Exactly the girl that he was looking for.

“So would you like a massage? I’ve never went to school for this, but I’ll do my best.” She smiled.

“Yes, of course. I can’t wait.” Edward said with a charming smile.

Edward began to take his jacket off and then his shirt. Anna froze when she saw how well built he was. His arms were very muscular. His chest was bulky and he had a set of abdominals she has only seen in the movies. Anna cleared her throat several times. She became nervous and flustered. Edwards noticed and smiled.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” she said nervously. “Let me check on the oil.”

As Anna turned her back Edward removed his shoes then his pants as he slid them to the floor. He bent over to pick them up and placed them on one of the lounge chairs. Edward stood behind Anna as she prepped the oils for the massage.

“So how do you want me?” Edward stood naked behind Anna.

Anna turned around and was surprised that Edward was completely nude standing before her. Trembling, she dropped one of the oil containers on the floor.

“I’m sorry.” Anna covered her eyes with her hands. “Can you please put a towel on?”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Please, lie down on the bed.” Anna gestured to the therapy platform.

Edward laid on the bed face up. He placed the towel over his cock. It was semi hard and at least 5 inches soft.

Anna put some music on and then approached Edward. She slowly poured some oil onto his chest and into her hands and began to message his shoulders. She slowly worked her way down to his chest and massaged his pecs. His body was firm and muscular. She had never felt anything like this hard body before. Anna completed his front upper torso. It seemed as if Edwards was enjoying himself. He was moaning and his cock was reacting as well. The towel Edward had placed over his cock wasn’t fully covering it any longer and was about to fall free. His cock was standing straight up, near where Anna was standing

Anna moved down to Edward’s feet to begin massaging his lower body. She couldn’t take her eyes off his cock. She was curious about just how big it was. What it looked like. What it tasted like.

Edward was watching Anna as she struggled to remain composed. He moved his hips side to side pretending he was trying to get comfortable until the towel fell from his waist and onto the floor. Anna gasped and tried to look away, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off of it.

“Could you please focus on this thigh?” Edwards pointed to his thigh just above his right knee.

“Of course.” Said Anna, who seemed like she was in a trance.

Anna began to massage Edward’s right thigh. He let out a soft moan. His cock began to twitch before her.

“Anna, I know we agreed on a massage, but what will it take for you to just hold my cock? Maybe jerk it a little for me?”

“ I don’t know sir. I think I should probably stop now.” Anna’s quivering voice sounded embarrassed and unsure of herself.

“Name your price.” Edward said, gently.

The Librarian: Part 4

Piper's Posts — Thu, 12 Dec 2024 11:23:00 -0600

Tough Guy.

by horn pixy. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

“What do you think?” he asked as she lifted the glass to her lips. She took a sip and her tongue tasted a drop that was left behind on her bottom lip.
“Not bad,’ she said. “Not bad at all, barman. Got any other surprises for me?”
“Sure do. Just come round back and step into my office for a minute or so.”

Ignoring the looks of his staff as he abandoned them to the crush of too many customers, he lifted the counter for her to follow him behind the bar. His hand low on her back, he guided her into the back of the building, to the room that housed his office. There was a solid wooden desk with a chair on each side and a computer stand on the other side. He closed and locked the door behind him and stood with his hands in his pockets as she surveyed the room.
“I don’t see any hidden cameras,” she said, sounding almost disappointed.
His eyebrows shot into the air. “You want to be caught on camera?”
“Of course not,” she said, letting her handbag drop negligently on the couch that was stacked with papers and the other debris of running a business. “I can’t afford any blackmail material. I have a very, very possessive boyfriend.”
Her fingers stroked down his chest as she spoke, and he shifted his body to get a little closer to her. “He would kill you if he knew about tonight.”
Brandon’s eyebrows lifted a fraction of an inch.
“Tough guy?”
“The toughest,” she purred as she started undoing the buttons on his white shirt. “Big, scary guy.”
“Are you trying to make me jealous?” he asked as his hands found her ass and pulled her tight against him, letting him feel the hard ridge between their bodies.
“Maybe,” she said. “Is it working?”
“My girlfriend would claw your eyes out,” he whispered against her temple. “She looks tame, but she can be a real wild animal sometimes.”
“I can take her,” the girl said, smiling confidently and tipping her face up for a kiss. Brandon didn’t comply immediately, choosing to taste that spot under her ear women always ruined with perfume.
Not this one. He could taste nothing but pure, unadulterated female skin as he touched the tip of his tongue to the spot.
“No marks,” he heard her husky murmur. “My boyfriend can’t find out.”
“I’ll mark you if I want to,” he said, settling his lips tight over that sweet spot and suckling hard, drawing the blood to the surface of her perfect, unmarred skin for a proper hickey.
“You bastard,” she gasped and tried to pull away. Brandon tightened his hold and laved the bruise with his tongue before continuing down the line of her jaw. He found a little beauty spot near the corner of her mouth and played with it for a few seconds before settling his lips over hers with deliberate possession.

Mine, he thought as his hands sought out the curves of her ass and cupped them. He pulled her against him and lifted her until her feet were no longer touching the ground. She put her arms around his neck and pressed her body closer to his, her tits pressing hot and soft against his chest. He pressed her back against the door of his office, ignoring her hiss of pain as the handle bit into her hip. She hitched her legs around his waist and he settled into the apex between her thighs like he belonged there. His hands held her in place as he started grinding against her with a slow, rocking motion, his hips moving and his fingers clenching her ass cheeks.

“Oh,” she gasped when his cock pressed hard and tight against her. Her hands were busy with his buttons and his collar, trying to get rid of his shirt. He pressed a hungry kiss against her lips, slipping his tongue over that plump flesh and tasting the drink he’d made for her. She kept her lips pressed closely together, making him work for it. He punished her by nipping on her bottom lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but definitely hard enough to make her gasp in shock and surprise. He took advantage of that, slipping his tongue into her mouth and taking what he wanted, branding her with his kiss. He angled his head and deepened the kiss and there was something dark and desperate about the way their mouths and bodies moved together. He drew her tongue out of her mouth and sucked on it, swallowing her responsive moan. Her hands were moving restlessly, testing the strength of his shoulders, one of them cupping the back of his head and fisting in his hair. He broke the kiss when oxygen became a problem, and they were both breathing heavily when he pressed his face into the curve of her neck, pressing open-mouthed kissed to that meeting of neck and shoulder. He pulled away and angled his hips closer to the wall to brace her against the wall while his hands started pulling at the straps holding the dress together like a corset. His fingers were almost shaking with the strength of his need as he pulled at the tight knots. She was pressing kisses everywhere she could touch him; his forehead, cheeks, temples. He swore when he failed to loosen the ties and she laughed, a low throaty sound that had his cock hardening. She pushed herself away from him and he let her slide down to the floor reluctantly.

“Why don’t you go sit and let me entertain you?” she asked and he followed her instructions, settling himself down on the brown leather chair behind his desk. She picked up the drink he’d mixed for her and took a sip, her eyes smoky and seductively on his face as the corner of her mouth tilted in a sensuous smile. She dipped her finger into the drink and slipped it inside her mouth, sucking the juice. Brandon cleared his throat and got rid of the shirt that was still hanging off his shoulders. His hard-on was pressing uncomfortably against zipper of his Levis. With one hand, the girls swept the desk clean of papers. He watched in fascination as papers and ledgers hit the floor. The framed photo of him and Emily at a ski-resort crashed onto the floor, the glass shattering. He felt another tug of guilt as he looked at her laughing, trusting face. But then the dark-haired vixen walked around the desk, the shards of glass crunching under her shoes. She sat on the edge of the desk, and crossed her legs, the drink still in her hand.

The girl took the cherry he’d put in the drink with the vague hope that she might do exactly what she clearly about to do. She held it by the stem, just above her mouth. Brandon’s eyes were glued on the drop of moisture caught on the bottom, hanging suspended in the air. She held out the tip of her tongue and the drop landed on it. She drew her tongue into her mouth, tasting it. And then she began the seduction in earnest. Her tongue teased around the round bulbous head, licking and tasting and flicking it skillfully. She sucked on it lightly, not hard enough to crush it. She drew it over her lips, across her chin and followed the line down to her cleavage. She slipped it into the sweet valley between her tits and with a small movement of her shoulders, dislodged it from the stem.
“Fuck,” Brandon breathed in an awed voice as she put the stem inside her mouth. He could see the movement of her tongue and it took only a few seconds to knot it.
He hoped fervently that she would use that skillful tongue on his cock soon.

“I seem to have lost the cherry,” she said. “Will you help me look for it?”
He reached for her eagerly, but she leaned back and put one foot against his chest, the heel of her shoe biting into his flesh a little.
“Not yet, naughty boy,” she said and pushed her leg. The wheels of the chair propelled him backwards a little and she smiled a little.
She tugged at the strip of satin he had been struggling with and it came loose with ease. Her tits pushed against the material and it shifted, allowing him a glimpse of those soft globes of flesh. He thought he caught a flash of red, but then she moved her arms to start getting rid of the dress. He watched the line as the straps slid down her shoulders, baring her more completely while framing her delectable body. Her fingers tugged slowly and the string that held it all together slid from its hooks. The material popped open, but the half-cup bra she was wearing was still holding her tits pressed against each other. His hands itched to cup them and test their weight and he couldn’t wait to bury his face between them.

He touched her ankle and stroked it, knowing exactly where to press his thumbs to make her squirm. His hands moved up her leg, using it as leverage to pull his chair closer to the desk. He put both hands on her legs and caressed the skin on the inside of her knees. He pressed them slightly away from each other and slid his fingers higher, marveling at the softness that covered her firm muscles. He reached the edge of the dress and he pressed it higher, until it pooled in her lap. She leaned back on her elbows and lifted her hips a little to help him push the tight dress over her ass. The erotic sight of her hips lifting, her legs opening wider nearly undid him, but he clamped down on his desire and settled for stroking her thighs when she grabbed the hem of her dress with both hands crossed in front of her and pulled it up and over her head. It mussed up her hair a little and she dropped the material on the floor behind the desk without a care.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes roaming hungrily over her body, taking in the smooth, flat planes of her stomach, with only the smallest and most natural rounding between her hipbones. Even those creepy dolls in the shops had those bumps nowadays. He cupped it possessively with one hand, his thumb stroking the line of the low-cut thong she was wearing. It was black lace and had clearly been designed to be as improper as possible, because it didn’t hide any of her pretty female treasures from his view.

He drank in the sight of her full, naturally rounded hips, so perfect for holding onto, and her soft tits, pushing against the bra that was doing a very poor job of keeping them contained. It matched the panties and he found himself devouring her body with his eyes. She was all female curves and seductress and feminine vulnerability rolled up into one delicious package. He put his hands on her knees and pushed her legs further apart to make way for his body. He kissed her stomach, an open-mouthed, mindless kiss as his tongue traced circles on her skin. She leaned back again when his hands found the straps of her panties. She lifted her hips again to help him, but Brandon had lost patience and gave a quick yank, tearing the delicate lace. She gasped as he threw the scrap of material over his shoulder. The scent of her arousal filled his senses and he leaned down to touch his mouth to her hairless mound. She stroked her fingers through his hair when he pushed her down onto her back with one hand. He trailed kisses down her thigh, lifting her leg so he didn’t have to move away from her warm, inviting body. He kissed the back of her knee and while her attention was fixed on the things his tongue was doing to that erotic spot, he slid a finger into her sweet wet folds. She gasped and jerked in surprise, and her foot hit him against the side of his head, the heel of her shoe nearly taking his eye out.
“Damn, woman,” he grumbled. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Not yet,’ she said remorselessly.

He abandoned his idea of kissing every inch of her luscious legs and went straight for desert. He hooked her knees over his shoulders and with this thumbs, opened the petals that hid her flower from him. She was perfect; puffy and pink and warm and wet and so damned pretty he could stare at her all day. Her outer lips were full and succulent, swollen with desire. The inner folds were delicate, like some lovely exotic rose. Her little nub was swollen and begging for attention. He complied, rubbing his finger over it a few times, softly, his touches light and fleeting and designed to drive her out of her mind. He dipped his finger in her moist entrance, gathering some of the juice pooled there and bringing it to her clit. He smeared it like a painter, admiring the glistening effect it had on her folds. She squirmed a little as he started playing, touching her in different ways and testing her reaction. He was surprised to find that her clit was more sensitive on one side than the other, and tortured her by concentrating on that spot. He felt like a little boy who had discovered a new toy and he had no intention of stopping his game any time soon. He pushed two fingers inside her opening, slowly to please them both and prolong the sensations that made her hips jerk. She swore when he found her g-spot and curled his fingers to linger there, stroking and pressing and driving her as crazy with desire as he was.

He decided to up it a notch, so to speak, and leaned down. He suckled one of her outer lips into his mouth, then the other, before flicking his tongue over her clit only once.
She used a word he didn’t think Emily had ever heard and pressed her crotch up against his face. He slid his tongue inside her entrance, tasting the sweet nectar and moaning at the taste of her essence. He started working her over with deliberate slowness, licking and tasting and cleaning her juices. She was begging him by the time he sucked her clit into his mouth, shameless pleas and promises that made him grin. He pulled at the little nub with his lips, nibbled it very lightly with his teeth and sucked it. She was pushing her cunt into his mouth, grinding his face helplessly as he tugged at her rhythmically.
“I’m going to come,” she warned when he started pumping his fingers in and out of her.
“Go ahead,” he said, his mouth full of the wild taste of her and his hands full of soft, straining curves. He kept her on the edge, knowing when to ease of and when to speed up, to keep her balanced on the brink of a shattering orgasm. Finally he relented and rubbed her clit with one finger while his mouth settled over the mouth of her opening and, sealing it tightly, started sucking hard and fast. She came on a keening cry as she tumbled down that edge in to the blinding abyss of pure, shattering pleasure. Her juices were warm as it poured out of her body straight into his mouth. He curled his tongue almost like a straw and sucked as much into his mouth as he could. It sounded peculiar; like a symphony of undeniably sex-related noises, but neither of them cared at that point. She was gasping for breath when he eased her legs of his shoulders, and they fell over the edge of the desk inelegantly.

“Oh my…” she wheezed. “That was amazing!”
“Thanks,’ he said, grinning as he used his shirt to wipe his face clean. He was covered in her cum.
“Just give me a few minutes, cowboy, and I’ll return the favor.”
His cock was likely to spurt the second he undid his pants at that point, so a few minutes sounded good to him. He walked around the desk to the mini-fridge behind the door. He took a bottle of beer and opened it, gulping down half the bottle in a few swallows. She struggled to sit up and he admired the way her tit jiggled when she moved, just the way he liked a woman’s boobs to jiggle. He couldn’t wait to have them in his hands, and couldn’t believe he hadn’t had them there yet.

She drank down some of her warming drink and followed him with his eyes as he undid the top button of his jeans to ease the pressure.
“Allow me,” she said and pushed him down in the chair. A few seconds later, she was kneeling between his legs. She teased him, drawing one white-tipped nail down the steel zipper, rasping it playfully. He watched her as she amused herself and bit back the impatience. He couldn’t afford to show any weakness with this woman; she was likely to use it against him shamelessly.
She opened his pants and helped his eager cock out of the little prison of too many layers of clothing. Finally it sprung free, hard as a rock and ready as an active volcano.
“Oh, yes,” she said, cupping both hands around his length. He hissed when she stroked him once, from base to tip.
“You are quite big, aren’t you?” she asked as she traced a bulging vein with her finger.
“I haven’t had any complaints yet,” he said from between his teeth.
“I can see why not. And so thick, too.”
She tugged a little as she stroked upwards, and he could feel the moisture of pre-cum leaking from his tip. Her thumb caught it and he looked as she slipped that digit into her mouth and sucked it clean.
“Hm,” she said appreciatively. Her hands started working him over in earnest and he closed his eyes as sensations battered him.

He felt the velvety wetness of her mouth and opened his eyes in time to see the head of his cock disappear between those cherry-lips of hers. She licked all around his bulbous head for a few seconds, getting him wet and slippery. After a while, she pushed her head down over him and Brandon groaned aloud. His hand curled around her head and fisted into her curls as she started bobbing her head up and down slowly, taking him deeper inch by inch, until he was buried as deep as she could take him. She picked up her pace a little, sucking while she bobbed, and he couldn’t help thrusting his hips to get deeper. She lifted her head and his cock jutted up, lining itself up with his belly. She took one of his balls into her mouth, cupping the other while she stroked him with her tongue.

When both his balls were wet and slick, she took his cock back into her mouth. This time she managed to deep throat him a few lovely times. He stared into her eyes and stroked her face as she sucked him off.
“I’m going to come soon, babe,’ he said. It was fair warning, after all. She redoubled her efforts, sucking harder and stroking with her hand to add to the pleasure. Her tongue was swirling around him, pressing against that sensitive spot at the base of his cock.
It undid him, and Brandon lost control for a few seconds, cupping her face in both hands and plunging his cock into her hard and fast until the cum spurted out of his cock and into her mouth. She swallowed convulsively around him and gagged a little. He was past the point of caring.

When it was over, he leaned back against the chair, gasping and almost shaking. His hand was still stroking her silky hair, which he had twined around his fingers at some point to hold her face down against his cock as he went in too deep. He forced his fingers to let go of her with some difficulty, as his brain struggled to send the correct commands to his hand.

“Are you all right?” he asked, concerned. She was using the same shirt he’d used to wipe her face. “I was a little rough back there.”
“Only a little. I'm fine, thanks.”
He grabbed the beer bottle he’d put on the desk and guzzled the rest. “You sure know how to give head,” he said, impressed.
“Practice makes perfect,’ she said and stood up, wincing as the movement made her knee crack. He smiled as she drowned the last of her drink.
“How was the screaming orgasm?”
She stared at the empty glass. “Not bad. I’d like another one, actually.”
He pulled her down to straddle him on the chair.
“Your wish is my command,” he said and kissed her. It was a tender kiss, but it became hotter as their tongues tangled, mixing the tastes of their respective cum and drinks. His fingers were combing through her dark curls and hers were grasping his shoulders. Finally she pulled away and his hands slid around her body to her back. He found the strap of her bra and undid it deftly. She lifted her arms and got rid of it impatiently. His hands rose to cup her tits.

“Oh, yeah,’ he breathed.
“What is it with men and boobs?” she asked, amused. “I’ve never had sex with a man who weren’t obsessed with them.”
He stared at he

The Librarian: Part 3

Piper's Posts — Wed, 11 Dec 2024 11:23:00 -0600

Explorations Commence.

by horn pixy. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

“My tongue?” she said, sounding a little squeaky.
“Yes, Emily. Slip it in my mouth.”
There was a moment of silence, and then she asked, “why?”

“I want to show you something delicious,” he said, and instead of the pity he might have expected when he realized that she had never done this, he only felt a primal, primitive male pride to be the one to teach her, to show her.

He felt her warm little tongue pressing hesitatingly against his lips and opened them, sucking it hard inside his mouth.
“Oh my,” she gasped; or tried to, anyway; and he grinned a little in pure satisfaction.
“Good, huh?” he asked after he let go.
“Uhm,” she muttered.
“Want to do it again?”

“Uhm,” she managed again. He slanted his mouth over hers and lapped at her tongue again, this time drawing it into his mouth. He suckled, hard, and she made a small, helpless little sound as both his hands started kneading her ass, covered with the stiff material of new jeans. He pressed her body harder against the door frame, desperate to have more of her. The kiss became urgent, and he realized the exact moment she stopped worrying about what to do and just let her body react, because suddenly it was even more perfect; her lips moving with his, her tongue meeting and thrusting against his, tasting and feeling and exploring. The sounds they were generating were loud in the stillness of the hallway; her moans, his groans, her sighs, his murmurs. Her accelerated breathing, his satisfied growls when she tested and tried something new, something that worked. They kept at it for a few more minutes; it might have been hours for, all he knew; and he dragged one hand up and into her hair.

“Ouch,” she gasped, and the fog lifted a little from his brain, enough to clear his mind for a few seconds, enough to make him realize that he was mauling her in the hallway.
“What?” he asked, and this time he was the one who felt dazed.
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Just my head, against the doorframe. Please, continue with what you were doing. Don’t let me interrupt you…”

He laughed a little and pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes closed tightly as he tried to get a grip over his hormones. His cock was rock-hard by now, straining against the fly of his jeans. He wanted her so badly, wanted to sink into the softness that was Emily, the gentleness of her embrace. Wanted to teach her everything he knew about lovemaking, demonstrating over and over until she knew exactly what was the best way to fit tab B into slot A.

But she was new, and innocent, and as appealing as the idea was, the small part of his mind that was still capable of rational thought knew that taking her right now, braced against the doorway was not only incredibly stupid (due to the whole public aspect of the milieu) but also extremely selfish. She deserved to be taken slowly, gently, preferably with somebody who would take the time to show her everything she needed to know. And also, a bed would be nice.

“Just give me a minute,” he said, taking deep breaths.
“No! No, no, no! Don’t take a minute; you’re going to change your mind if you do!”
He laughed again. “Not bloody likely,” he said. “Just; just hold on a bit, okay?”
“Okay,” she murmured, circling her arms around his body and leaning against him. Her soft hair tickled his chin as she tucked her head in the crook of his neck. He pulled her inside the apartment and closed the door behind them, almost stepping on her glasses in the process. He picked them up and put them on a little table in the corner, and then turned to look at her.

She was standing with her hands folded in front of her, head bent down so that he couldn’t see her face.
She was radiating shyness, and uncertainty, and just a little bit rejection. Tenderness swirled in him again and he stepped closer to her, allowing himself one swift, hard kiss.
“Look at me,” he said. She lifted her head slowly and he smiled at her.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. “don’t even think of arguing with me, not even in your mind. Especially not in your mind. I won’t have anybody, least of all you, think otherwise. I won’t put up with that. You are lovely, and I want you so much it aches. But I want to do what’s right.”

“What would that be?” she whispered, and he cupped her neck, his thumb playing in the hollow of her throat.
“I don’t know,” he admitted ruefully. “Right now I just want to take you to bed, so my judgement is a little cloudy.”
“Do it,” she said. “Please, Brandon. Take me to bed. I’m so tired of wondering, of not knowing what sex is like. I want; I want to know, and I want to learn.” She was quiet for a second. “I want to feel.”

He searched her eyes. “Your first time should be with somebody special,” he objected, knowing that he wouldn’t leave unless she asked him to. Knowing exactly what would happen if he stayed. His beautiful, shy little librarian was about to ask him to make love to her, and he was powerless to deny her anything, least of all what she was offering. He was human, and male, after all.

Emily looked at him with her heart in his eyes. “You are special,’ she said after a few seconds. “You make me feel wanted. Wanton. You make me want to take you to the library and do something in the non-fiction section where nobody ever goes.”

He laughed, a raw sound that was being torn from him as his throat closed up. Had he really thought she would be unresponsive and boring?
“You have to be sure,” he said. “I’m not doing this if you’re not sure.
“I was sure the first time I saw you. I didn’t know what to say except, ‘a glass of whiskey, please’.”
“I’ve never seen a woman drink whiskey like you did before,’ he said with a little smile. “You just sat there, sipping glass after glass of Jameson without making a face, though I’m pretty sure you thought it was disgusting.”

“I hated it,” she admitted.” But I didn’t know what else to order, and I was too shy to ask your advice.”
He made a vow to himself to take her back to the bar one evening and let her have a sip of every single drink he had in stock, until she found something she likes. And then he would mix some cocktails, and teach her about shaken and stirred, and she would never have to drink whiskey alone in a bar again.

He kissed her then, a sweet kiss that wasn’t about passion as much as compassion. He had feelings for her. They were undeveloped yet, but he wasn't about to deny their existence like some footloose bachelor, afraid of commitment. He didn’t know if it was the right thing, making love to her without giving her the chance to get to know him better, but he knew that he could no more let her go right now than he could cut off his own arm. So he stroked her hair, marveling at the silky feel as his lips taught her a few more secrets and his tongue tasted her again. He slid the strands through his fingers and pulled her head back to taste the skin on her neck.

She tipped her head willingly, giving him better access. He teased her earlobe, nibbling lightly and flicking it with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. The silver hoop she was wearing was in his way, so he used his fingers to get rid of it. He tickled the sensitive area behind her earlobe and tasted the dryness of perfume she had dabbed there. It was bitter, and though it smelled like heaven, he wanted to taste Emily, so he traced a line down her neck and across her collarbone, following the line of an imaginary necklace with his tongue, until the last of the perfume had rubbed off on her skin and all he could taste was Emily. Sweet and unique and still a little bit scared.

He explored the hollow between her collarbones, taking his time over it. Her skin was like satin; smooth, silky, and so completely feminine. She moaned, a small sound in the back of her throat as she leaned helplessly against him, her hands around his head and her fingers tangled in his hair. She pulled at his head and he went willingly back to her mouth, to kiss and taste and take.
He was never going to get enough of her mouth, he though as he toyed with her lips and let her do the same to him.

She stepped away for a second and crossed her arms in front of her, pulling her sweater over her head in one smooth move. Brandon felt his breath catch in her throat when she stood in front of him in only her thin white chemise-like top and a lacy white bra that pushed her boobs together in the most perfect way imaginable. He stopped her hands when she wanted to take the top off and slid his hands over her body reverently. She was so warm, but despite the heat in the room her nipples were hard, beaded little nubs, straining against the honeyed fabric of her thin top.

He pulled one strap over her shoulder and tasted the skin he unveiled before reaching down and getting rid of the blasted thing completely. And then his hands were in the skin of her softly rounded, perfectly proportioned hips, and her skin was softer and smoother than the silk of the top that had fluttered to the ground and was now lying there, like a pool of sex, on the floor. Brandon looked her in the eyes, and she gazed back unflinchingly, despite the blush that stained her cheeks a delicious shade of pink. Her tits were spilling a little over the lace edge of her bra, something that the designer had undoubtedly taken great pains to accomplish. It was like… froth, he decided as he traced the edge of the material. Or the white foam on top of a wave as it rolled to shore.

He reached behind her, holding her gaze as he undid the clasp of her bra, the movement bringing their bodies together. She made a small sound when he stepped back deliberately and let the bra join the other clothes on the floor.

“You are so lovely,” he said, gazing at her body. She was so completely female, so gloriously, radiantly beautiful, and he couldn’t believe she was standing there, allowing him to desecrate her innocence. He cupped one of her tits, enjoying the way it spilled over his palm just a little. The tip was pale pink, like a very young rose just ready to bud open. He weighed a tit in each hand and was fascinated by the softness and fullness. His thumbs skated over the tips until they were even harder. He wanted to devour her, but this first time was not for him. It was for her, to feel and learn, and experience. To understand, to know, and to enjoy.

“Oh,” she gasped when he bent down and took one nipple into his mouth. Just for a second did he allow himself to be selfish and suckle on it, but then he pulled back and pressed a kiss right in the middle of her cleavage. She moaned a little and moved restlessly, but he didn’t relent. He kissed all over her tit, spiraling teasingly toward the nipple, knowing it would drive her crazy. He rubbed his cheek over the sensitive nub, abrading it lightly with his stubble-roughened skin and laving it unexpectedly with his tongue. He nipped lightly with his teeth, and she moaned again, slightly louder this time as he took his time nibbling it.

“Do what you did again,” she begged him breathlessly.
“And what was that?” he asked, teasing her by drawing his tongue round her nipple without touching it.
“What you did before,” she said incoherently.
“This?” he asked, licking over it once with his tongue flat.
“No,” she said, her head thrown back and her eyes closed.
“This, then?” he wanted to know, flicking it quickly.
“No! you know what I mean!”
He took pity on her. “Is this what you want?” he asked, drawing her into his mouth and suckling hard and sure, playing with his tongue around the tip as he did so.
“Oh, yes,” she moaned; a long, drawn out sound that grabbed at his control.

He picked the pace up after that, forgoing the torture on her other tit and going straight for the good part, sucking the nipple relentlessly until she let go of his hair and put her hands behind her own head, increasing both her vulnerability and her pleasure as she arched her body into his hands and mouth.

She felt something hit the back of her knees and opened her eyes, surprised to find that he had carried her into her bedroom without her noticing it. She was lost in sensations as his mouth travelled across her skin, insistently licking and nibbling, stopping every now and then to explore some new place he wanted to get to know intimately.

She heard him unzipping her pants and lifted her body instinctively to help him get rid of it.
“Brandon,” she sighed when she was laying naked except for her panties; pretty white lace that matched the bra she had been wearing; on her bed, and Brandon was kneeling at the feet of the bed, trying to get rid of her shoes so he could undress her completely.
“Yeah?” His voice was strained with the effort of holding back his passion.
“Come up here for a second,” she whispered. He got rid of her shoe and when he had pulled off her jeans he leaned over her, bracing himself on one knee and both arms immediately.

“Everything okay?” he asked gently, his face showing no sign of the storm raging inside him. He wanted to rush, wanted to hurry, wanted to burry himself in her body, but he was determined not to. This was for her. For Emily. He would have time later to show her unbridled passion. But right now he wanted her to have the most perfect first time any girl has ever had, anywhere.
“It’s perfect,” she smiled up at him, her hair flaring out over her pillows.
“This is a lot better than the last time I undressed you,” he said, grinning.
“What last time?”
“Well, you were fairly drunk, so I’m not surprised you don’t remember,” he said, tracing a pattern on her tit with his finger; lazy circles and shapes that made her arch a little. “I only took off your coat and your shoes,” he added. “Like I said. This is much better.”

She laughed a little. “I’m still sorry you spent the night on the couch.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You’re going to need to get a bigger couch if I’m going to spend the night again.”
She licked over her lips, a small gesture he recognized by now as a sign of nerves, so he waited for her to speak, trying to ignore the throbbing in his cock.
“Why don’t you just use the bed next time?” she asked tentatively. “If you want there to be a next time, that is. I don’t want you to feel I expect anything, or that I presume this, right here, right now, that it means I…”
He cut her off. “What are you talking about, woman?” he asked, but he thought he knew, and he didn’t like the direction of her thoughts.

“I don’t want you to think I expect the fact that you’re making love to me means I will expect more than just that,” she said carefully. “I’m not naïve enough to think this means happy-ever-after.”
“Okay,” he said. “With that cleared up, can we go back to the love-making?”
“By all means,’ she said. He kissed her then, letting her taste a bit of his anger because, damn her, had the thought ever crossed her mind that he might want more? That once might not be enough for him?

She sank back into the fluffy duvet, her arms around him pulling him down with her. She pressed her tit against his upper body. He moaned at the feel of her naked body against his clothed one, especially when she rubbed herself against him.
“You’re overdressed,” she said and he gave a bark of laughter, hurrying to remedy just that. He was out of his shirt in record time, and she leaned up to watch as he struggled a little with his jeans. Getting it past his raging hard-on was a delicate operation, but he managed not to injure himself.

“Let me,” she said when the jean was around his ankles and he started on his black boxer briefs.
She scooted closer to him, dressed only in her lacy white panties, the scent of her arousal wafting through the air.
She was very careful when she slid one hand into the waistband and pulled it away from his body and down. It kept getting stuck on his cock, so she used her other hand to hold his cock out of the way. They both gasped when her fingers touched him. Finally the boxers was around his ankles, so he kicked it and the jeans off and out of the way.

She stared at his cock for a few seconds, her hand hovering as if she wanted to touch it.
“’Can I …” she indicated and he nodded, his throat dry. She touched one finger to his shaft, running it up and down his thick length.
“It’s so hard,” she said, marveling. “and at the same time, it’s so soft. Why is that?”
He moaned something in response as she made a fist around him, testing the thickness and pressing lightly.
“Harder,” he gasped. She did just that, and he groaned. Emily yanked her hand away.
“Did I hurt you?” she asked, wide-eyed. “I’m sorry! I’ve never, you know, seen one. In real life. Tell me what to do.”

“Later,” he gasped and pressed her down on the bed, kissing her senseless as he roamed over her body with one hand. “I’ll let you do whatever you want later. But now I want to show you; do you trust me?”
She blinked up at him.
“Yes,” she said, and the simple word tore through his last resistance. He kissed her with all the passion he’d been holding back, letting her know how much he wanted this, wanted her as he slid one hand down and into her panties.

“You’re shaved,” he said, surprised.
“When I was in my early twenties, I went for permanent hair removal,” she said. “Each time I tried shaving, I wound up cutting myself, so I just decided, screw that. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said as he stroked his finger over her hairless mound, testing the softness of her skin before dipping lower.
And then he groaned as his finger was instantly coated in wetness. She was soaking.

She moaned at the strangeness of having somebody else’s finger inside her. He explored the lips, the petals, her clit, before dipping his fingertip inside her and dabbling a little while he kissed her again. She opened her legs wider instinctively, unaware of the eroticism of the movement. He rushed a little as he pulled her panties off and threw them over his shoulder. He knelt between her legs, spreading her knees further as he wedged his shoulders between her thighs.

“Emily, may I go down on you?” he asked formally. Just to be sure.
“You mean; you want to; Yes, all right. You don’t have to, though.”
“It’s not ‘have to’ as much as ‘want to’,” he said. “I want to taste you.”
“Well, don’t let me stop you,’ she said, still a little shy.

He used the fingers of one hand to spread her lips and the middle finger of his other hand to dibble inside her again, coating his finger in her juice and spreading it around her cunt. She wriggled a little and gave a small moan. Brandon knew he wasn't going to last a hell of a lot longer, and he needed to get her off so he could get off. So he honed in on her clit with his finger, rubbing it fast and light, and then hard, and then in tight little circles, trying to find out what she liked best.

Emily closed her eyes and fisted her hands in the duvet as Brandon’s finger did things to her nobody else has ever done. She gave a gasp when he hit just the right spot, and he must have noticed, because he focused on it then, rubbing and tapping at it. A strange need was building inside her. She knew what orgasms feel like; and it was nothing like this. This was an urgency she couldn’t stop, a tidal wave rising from every nerve-end in her body.

“Brandon,” she gasped, clawing at his back to get him to stop. There was something wrong with her; this wasn't normal. But he didn’t seem to realize her urgency, because then, oh mercy, his mouth was on her pussy, and he

The Librarian: Part 2

Piper's Posts — Tue, 10 Dec 2024 11:23:00 -0600

About Last Night

by horn pixy. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

Well, she thought almost bitterly as she got dressed in sweatpants and a plain black sweater that was soft and a little loose after her latest, and to date most successful, weight-loss plan. She considered shoes, but settled for her fluffy pink slippers instead. So much for her brilliant theory. She had sat there for hours and hours on the most uncomfortable stool ever, drinking glass after glass of whiskey because she didn’t know what else to order and was too shy to ask.

And nobody; not even one man; had shown any interest in her. The only one who talked at her at all was the hot bartender, who…

The bartender! Of course! That’s why the man had looked familiar to her in her bathroom. His features had been blurry without her glasses, of course, but she was reasonably sure it was him. She was almost a hundred percent certain of it. The only question was; what was he doing in her apartment?

“It’s a long story,” he said when she asked him later, in her kitchen, her hair wrapped up in a towel and perched on her head. His eyes followed her movements around the kitchen as she got milk from the fridge for the coffee and put bread in the toaster. The irony of the morning-after-nothing-happened breakfast didn’t escape his notice.
“I have time,” she said carefully, closing the blinds to avoid all possible sources of light. “Give me the quick version.”

“Fine,” he said with a sigh. “You were drunk, I helped you home. My keys are locked in my car and I couldn’t get a cab to come get me. That’s it, in a nutshell. And because I know you’re still wondering, I spent the night on your couch, shivering a little. Ok, shivering a lot. It was damn cold. Plus I have a crick in my neck now.”
She winced. “I’m sorry. I wish you’d waken me up, I would at least have helped you with a blanket.”
“I could have used your hairdryer to build a nuclear bomb right next to your bed and you wouldn’t have woken up. You were out cold.”
Another wince.
“I’m really sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never been that drunk before. I’m really not the type.”

“I know,” he said, not bothering to hide his grin. “You told me last night.”
She chewed her bottom lip nervously. Brandon wanted to take that hot little task over for her. He imagined nibbling on those petal soft lips and cleared his throat a little.
“What else did I tell you?” she wanted to know apprehensively.
“Well, you work in a library, and you can’t lie even to telephone salespeople.”
“Is that all?”
“Not by a long shot. By the way, what does technically mean?”
She frowned and cocked her head in a ‘what do you mean?’ way. “Technically?”
“Yes. When is something technically and when is it; I don’t know, untechnically? Physically? Literally?”
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” she said and smeared a thin strip of margarine over her dry toast.

He cupped his hands around the plain white cup filled to the brim with coffee and leaned forward.
“Tell me,” he said conversationally, sadistically waiting for her to take a bite of toast. “How does one remain a virgin, but only technically?”
She started choking as he’d expected, coughing and wheezing and grabbing her coffee to help the dry bread down the right pipe.
“What?”

“Apparently, if you were speaking the truth last night which drunk people seem prone to do for some reason, you are technically still a virgin, but not in a physical sense. I was just wondering how that happens.”
“I told you that? Oh my; I’m so sorry!”
He laughed at the red flush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks.
“Relax,” he said. “Its fine. I would just love to hear that story. Because there has to be a story.”
“Not really,” she muttered, and then, as an afterthought, “I’m never drinking again.”
“Wise words that has been spoken by many, many people over the years.”
“I mean it,” she insisted. “I honestly can’t believe I told you that.”
“Virginity is nothing to be ashamed of,” Brandon said, stroking one finger down her arm.
“It kind of is, when you’re twenty nine.”
He gaped. “You’re twenty nine and you’ve never had sex? How the hell had that happen?”
“I don’t know, it just; happened,” she muttered. “Or more to the point, it just never happened.”
“There must be a reason,” he prompted.

“There isn’t one specific reason, it’s more like a series of non-sexual incidents, strung together by everything from dating sites to five-minute dating games and more blind dates than I can count.”
“I take it none of that worked for you?”
“I met the most interesting people. Like Mike, who was seventy two at the time, and told me he had a granddaughter fantasy he wanted to play out with me.”
“He wanted you to pretend to be his granddaughter?”
She shook her head. “If only. I’m not sure how this would have played out since I didn’t stick around to find out, but I had to play the grandfather. And he was one of the better options.”
Brandon sat back, stunned. “No way,” he said disbelievingly.

She nodded. “I’m serious. After him was a series of serial losers; men who couldn’t hold on to jobs and girls and had to borrow money from one loan shark to pay off the next. The type of guys whose idea of cleaning out the trailer means letting a stray dog in to lick the stains from the floor and to put all the porn in one box.”
Oh, he was in deep shit, Brandon thought as he roared with laughter. She had a sense of humor. There was, to his mind, nothing sexier in a girl than a sense of humor.
“And after them?”

She frowned. “I met this guy, his name is Stanley, online. We went on a few dates and it didn’t go too bad, till his parole officer contacted me to let me know he was back in jail for harassing little kids at a park.” She winced. “It was messy. The police went through my house, looking for signs of kiddie-porn. Apparently he was part of a child-prostitution and trafficking ring. I had no idea. I got off with a warning, since there was no evidence that I was involved, and he told them that I knew nothing. I suspect they still monitor my internet history every once in a while.”

Helpless laughter rocked through him. No wonder she was still a virgin, if these were the kind of men she stumbled across during her search.
“What about high school?” he asked. “And college?”
She looked down at her hands. “I wasn’t exactly Miss Popular in school,” she said simply. “I wasn’t even that shy girl that nobody talks to except when they need help with math, because I sucked at math. Still do, as a matter of fact. I didn’t fit in with any of the clicks. I wasn't pretty and I wasn't clever, and I didn’t have any secret talents. The only thing I was good at was reading, and I did a lot of that. But nobody makes friends in the school library, right? Especially not if the girl is chubby and have the fashion sense of a blind nun.”
“Now that part I can help you with,” he said. “Why don’t I go shopping with you and help you pick out a few outfits that will make the, uh, best of your figure?”

She looked down at herself. True, she was wearing sweatpants, but they were new and still neat. And her sweater might be a bit too big after her diet, but it was of a good material and had been expensive and it didn’t lose shape in the wash. But his words made her feel downright dowdy.

“Do you remember what I told you last night?” he asked.
“I barely remember you, never mind anything you told me,” she said, stung.
He frowned a little and gazed at her with an intent look on his face that made her wonder if he could see more than what she revealed.
“You expressed the wish to… how to put this delicately? find somebody to enjoy yourself with, but you were concerned that you don’t have the right look and personality to attract men. I merely offered my advice to help you if you wanted an objective opinion.”

“Oh,” she said, pushing her plate away from her with one finger.
Actually, what he’d promised was to help her learn to fake it, but Brandon was strangely reluctant to hurt her feelings by telling her that. She was female, after all, and would immediately conclude that he thought she wasn’t good enough or pretty enough, or didn’t have what it takes to attract men like ants to a syrup bottle.
And that was just bull.
Even if he had had almost those exact same thoughts not twelve hours ago.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked after a few semi-awkward moments of silence.
He shrugged. “Maybe I’m just a nice guy.”
“Men are never nice unless they have an agenda.”
He winced. “Ouch. True, but ouch.”
She gave him a small smile. “So what’s your agenda?”
Getting in your pants.
“Maybe I want library privileges.”
She snorted. “Like what?”
Showing you what the reference section should really be used for.
“Maybe I have a fine for a book that’s late. Think you can help me make it disappear?”
Her smile was like the sunrise.
“Are you trying to bribe me?”

He leaned forward with a grin. “Maybe I am. Are you corruptible?”
“Certainly not. I’m a good girl, you know.” She was trying hard to look prim and proper, and failing miserably. Her eyes; those bluer-than-the-sky eyes of hers; were filled with laughter behind her pretty glasses, despite the way she was pursing her lips and trying to look chastising.
“All right. So I’ll have to pay the fine, then. How about this? There’s a book I want to read, but it’s on a waiting list. I would love to be moved to the top of the list.”
She pretended to think about it. “That depends,” she decided. “What book is it?”

He couldn’t help it, couldn’t resist the invitation their flirting was issuing.
“The Art of Pleasuring Women,” he said, wondering if she would accept the unvoiced challenge.
She did, though her eyes widened slightly in scandalous provocation. “Well, now,” she said, clearing her throat a little. “I guess I can be convinced. Wouldn’t want your girlfriend to be dissatisfied by your prowess. It would be sad for the poor girl if you didn’t know how to; get things done. You might even say it’s my civic duty to let you have the necessary instruction.”
His throat was a little dry and he lifted his cup to his lips, surprised to realize there wasn’t another drop. “Yeah,” he said. “Education is important. Speaking of education, I think it’s time for lesson one.”
“Lesson one in what?”
He grinned. “Making you irresistible.”

Emily twisted her hair into a clip with a practiced movement. Brandon had given her couple of hours while he got a cab to take him home and get his spare keys, promising to be back for her first lesson. She felt awkward when he left, sure it would be the last time she saw him. She knew he thought her plain and uninteresting– he’d basically said it himself in so many words; and he had absolutely no reason to waste his Saturday on her. She was surprised at the desolation she had felt when she stood at her window, watching his cab pull off. He was the first man in a long time to be nice to her. Not many guys would go to the trouble he’d gone too to get her home safely. He’d looked after her as if they were friends, and this morning he’d joked with her and put her at ease, making her forget about the humiliation of her alcohol-loosened tongue of the previous evening. For goodness’ sake, she had told him she was still a virgin. Why on earth had she felt the need to share that with him? Now he would always remember her as that crazy girl who couldn’t handle a few drinks and had no taste in clothes. He was nice, and talking to him had been very nice and seeing him again would be even nicer, but she was not naïve enough to believe he would be back. Still, she couldn’t help taking extra care when she dried her hair and did her make-up. The result was less than satisfactory, to her own eyes. No matter what she did, she would be plain. Nothing could change that. She had never been pretty, nor would she ever be.

“And you’d best make peace with it,” she muttered to her slightly depressed image in the mirror. She threw open her closet and looked at the piles of clothes that had been arranged with military precision, according to color and styles.
It was a bit sad, watching her cupboard. Most of what she owned was either white or beige or cream, or any variation of that. There were blacks and navy blues, and a few browns and greys. Some dowdy shades of maroon and a mourning, drab purple, but that was it.

Was this really what her life had whittled down to? Her job was going nowhere, fast, she had no relationships outside her head, and her closet looked like she let her grandmother do her shopping. Why on earth had she bought that grey and brown coat hanging in the back? It was horrible. It was hideous, even if it was made of the finest wool she’d ever touched.

Emily pulled it off the hanger and dumped it on the bed unceremoniously. She grabbed another jacket, a few skirts she was ashamed to say she’d worn more than twice. The heap on her bed piled high as she emptied her closet almost completely. She was feeling slightly frantic by the time she was done with the coats and jackets and started on slacks and trousers. Had she been blind her entire life, to wear this?
“What are you doing?” a voice suddenly said, disturbing her. Emily dropped a faded charcoal blouse on the floor in surprise. Her sort-of friend and downstairs neighbor was staring at the bed, which was covered with clothes, with an expression of revulsion. She must have used the spare key Emily had left with her, because Emily had locked the door behind Brandon. Usually Judith knocked, but Emily hadn’t heard anything.
“You!” said Emily accusingly, bending down to pick up the shirt and holding it out in front of her. “I blame you!”
“For what?” Judith asked, clearly not sure what to expect.
“This is partly your fault,” Emily scolded, shaking and accusing finger at Judith. “How could you let me wear this crap? In public?”

Judith stared at the bed, her mouth working a little as she processed the situation.
“I thought you liked it.”
“You should have told me I look about ninety! What sort of friend are you?”
“Em, you always look neat. I thought…”
“Neat! I looked neat. And how many guys want to have sex with neatness, I ask you?”
“Uhm…” Judith cleared her throat. “Clearly, not as many as you’d like.”
Emily threw another armful of blouses; a mustardy floral, a khaki-with-frills and a navy box neck that looked like the wrong end of the fifties; on the bed.
“None, that’s how many,” she said grimly. “How am I supposed to get somebody to marry if I can’t even find a man to have sex with me? What’s wrong with me?”
“There is not a thing wrong with you,” Judith said immediately and loyally. “You just; appeal to a different demographic than the men you meet.”
“Yeah,” Emily muttered. “The men at the senior citizen really enjoy chatting to me on Library Tuesday. They show up by the busloads to come see me.”

Judith stifled a laugh. “Why are you taking all of your clothes out of your closet?”
Emily sank down on her bead and glanced at the pile of ugly materials and styles.
“I’m getting rid of it,” she said darkly. “All of it. And I’m going to buy new things. Pretty things. Color, Judith, I need color. Pink and green and yellow. Red! I don’t even have a red dress. Why don’t I have a hot red dress?”

“Red’s really not your color,” Judith said. “Or yellow, to be honest. You need to stay away from red and yellow, and definitely no orange.”
“See? Why haven’t you told me this before? Look at me, Judith, I’m a mess.”
Judith sat down next to her. “I guess you always seem so content, so at peace with your life. I used to envy you that. I’m the most unstable person I know, and you just never cared what people thought about you. I had no idea you were dissatisfied. I’m sorry I let you wear ugly clothes.”
Emily gave a small laugh and glanced at the empty hangers in the closet. There were two coats that had passed her test; a truly timeless black cashmere and a really warm, snowy white one she’d bought on sale but hadn’t worn yet because it would get dirty the second she ventured out of her bedroom.
“It’s ok. It’s not your fault. I should have realized I need help long before now.”
“What brought this on?” Judith asked, picking up the mustard shirt looking at it shrewdly. “This would make an excellent floor rag, by the way.”

Emily laughed slightly. “Nothing brought it on. I’m just; I’m tired of being part of the scenery in my own life, you know? When is it my turn to have some fun? I’ve been waiting so patiently for my life to begin, and look where it’s brought me. I’m twenty nine, I’ve never had sex, and I’m too scared to venture outside this comfort zone I’ve been digging for myself with serviceable clothing and comfortable shoes and not enough friends.”
“Your shoes are really ugly,” Judith said, honestly. “And I promise I’ll tell you from now on if you wear something that doesn’t work.”
Emily looked at her nearly empty cupboard. “Thanks,” she said. “I guess I’ll take this stuff to the Salvation Army, if they want it.”

“Let me help with that,” Judith said. “I have a car, so it’ll be much easier for me. I know a great homeless shelter that needs donations desperately.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Emily said. “Why did you come here today? Did they drop my mail off in your box again?”
“No, I wanted to ask about that really hot guy I saw coming out of your apartment a while ago. Was he the cable repair man or something?”

“No,” Emily said, blushing a little. “He; actually, he spent the night here. On my couch,” she added quickly. “Nothing happened. I was so drunk he had to bring me home from the bar.”
Judith’s eyes widened. “But you never drink,” she said.
“I did last night.”
“Never mind that, then. Oh my word, Emily, you let a stranger sleep over at your house? And you didn’t jump him?”

“He wasn’t interested in being jumped,” Emily said. “He’s just; a nice guy I’m never going to see again.”
Judith chewed the inside of her lip. “Leave this stuff,” she said, “and bring your credit card. We’re going to go shopping.”

Brandon paced the hallway outside Emily’s apartment. He’d been there for an hour and she still wasn't opening the door. She was either avoiding him on purpose, or incapable of answering the damn bell, or, most probably, not home.
Which just plain pissed him off. Hadn’t he told her he would be back? She had no business being out when he wanted to see her!

He kept walking, following the generic grey carpeting with the navy pattern with his eyes. This was ridiculous. He should be at home, watching sport or having an afternoon nap. He should not be pacing around, waiting for Emily to show up. What was he, a horny teenager who mistakes lust for love?

He forced himself to leave after another half hour. No girl was worth waiting for like this. It was pathetic and sad and told him, more than anything else, how much he needed to get laid. These; feelings he seemed to have caught, were like a disease. Or a virus. And the best cure for unwanted feelings is a good old-fashioned boink fest. He knew plenty of girls who would be more than happy to oblige. It was just such a pity he wasn't interested in anybody except Emily.
Brandon scowled.

“Are you sure about the dress?” Emily asked for the third time, loading the last of the shopping bags into Judith’s car. They’d spent almost five hours straight

The Librarian: Part 1

Piper's Posts — Mon, 09 Dec 2024 11:23:00 -0600

Brandon has been harboring a secret librarian fantasy

by horn pixy. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

Brandon has been harboring a secret librarian fantasy for many years, but Emily was hardly his idea of a hot librarian. She was the type of women who came a side-serving of Complication. So why couldn't he stay away from her?

It was almost time for last call. Brandon wiped the sodden rag over the counter and put the empty glass the girl had just put down into the crate under the bar with the other dirty glasses.

“One more?” he asked. She nodded and took her wallet from her purse. He handed her the scotch on the rocks; her sixth or seventh one for the evening; and wondered how she managed to keep her balance on the high barstool. Her eyes had that glazed look of somebody who had definitely had a few too many, but if he had not been the one to pour her drinks; all six or seven of them; he would not have guessed she was drunk. There was no characteristic slumping or wobbling or even raucous laughter. In fact, her ramrod straight posture and uncanny balance reminded him of a ballet teacher, especially with her hair scraped back into a bun like that. She was pretty enough, in a neat, mousy little way. It was impossible to hazard a guess at the figure under the bulky, shapeless coat she was wearing over goodness knew what. She was wearing glasses with a nice frame that actually suited her face in a non-descript kind of way. Brandon had never seen such a dignified drunk in his life. She had better manners drunk than most people had when they were stone cold sober and sitting their grandmother’s sitting rooms.

“Thank you,” she said politely when she accepted her change and slipped half of it into the tip-jar, as she had been doing all evening. He kept an eye on her as he started straightening bottles on the shelf behind him, wondering about her story.

Brandon loved his job. He owned several bars and still spent an evening now and then behind the counter. After serving drinks for three years across the globe when he was fresh out of high school, he enjoyed the occasional trip down memory lane. It fascinated him to see how alike people were, no matter where they lived. Broken hearts healed just as slowly in Hawaii as they did in Australia, and flirting was a universal art that did not differ too much from one place to another. He loved watching the games, the intrigues, the emotions, as people relaxed around him. He’d seen it all; the break-ups and the make-ups, the hopeful souls scouring the bar for the love of their lives; or at least the lay of the night. He’d seen people drink to forget, or to try to keep memories alive. He’d seen them drink because there was nothing else to do, or because they couldn’t do anything else. He’d seen the lonely girls go home with the wrong men and knew they’d wake up the next morning with alcohol on their breath and regret in their hearts. He’d seen women play fast and loose, and the men who managed to escape their clutches. He’d seen the best and the worst of people, but he thought he’d never quite seen anything like the girl sitting there in a dull brown coat, finishing one drink after another without toppling over or falling into somebody’s lap on her way to the bathroom. She was fresh and new, and it intrigued him.

The bar was rather empty in comparison to most Friday nights. But to be fair, it was the middle of the month and there was a blizzard raging on outside. He was closing up earlier than usual to give the staff and the customers the chance to get home before it got worse. The neat lady; there was other way to describe her; was one of the diehards, but since she was hardly causing a scene, he didn’t ask her to leave just yet while they were cleaning up.

Finally they were done, and he had to ask her to leave. She blinked owlishly at him from behind her glasses.
“Excuse me?” she asked, as if she had not heard him the first time.
He leaned closer and thought he caught a whiff of something clean and fresh under the ripe smell of alcohol and closed-up people that hung over the room.
“It’s closing time,” he repeated. “We’re going to lock up.”
“Oh,” she said, frowning slightly as her impaired brain tried to sort out his words. “Right,” she said finally. “Well, I’ll just go then, won’t I?”
“Can I call you a cab?” he asked, because she still had not moved from her seat. He waved a hand at the two waiters and the other barman, indicating that he would lock up and they could go home.
She looked at him, her eyes still slightly unfocused.
“To take you home,” he explained. “You shouldn’t drive.”
“Did I come with a car?” she asked, bewildered. “I hope not. I don’t own a car. Did I steal one?”
He grinned. This was fun. Normally drunk people just annoyed him a bit, but this girl struck a chord somewhere in his chest he’d never known to exist.
“Not that I know of,” he said. “How did you get here?”
“I must have walked,” she said, puzzled. “From work. Fancy that.”
“What work do you do?” he asked as Rod, one of the waiters, closed the door behind the other staff members.
“I’m a libal; librali; a li bra rian,” she said, looking quite pleased with herself for managing the word. Fancy that indeed, he thought, his mind going into immediate overdrive at the mention of her career. Like many, many men, he harbored a secret Librarian Fantasy. Even the way she broke it up into syllables didn’t diminish the thoughts running though his head.

The job suited her perfectly, he thought. She was cut out for the silence and air of wisdom and propriety that hung around the books like dusty clouds. He imagined being scolded by her for being too loud and grinned.

“Where do you live?” he wanted to know. He would help her home, call her a cab, and forget about her. She was not the type of librarian he fantasized about; she had glasses, but they were the wrong kind, and even though her hair was scraped back out of her face, there was nothing sexy about it. She wasn't wearing nearly enough make-up and not at all the right kind of clothes, either. She was just a girl, hiding behind stacks of books. Her fingers were unadorned, and he guessed her to be single. She probably had four or five cats and a vibrator named Bob hidden in her nightstand that she rarely used because it made her feel guilty.

“Up the street, I think,” she said, pointing vaguely with her fingers. “That way. You have pretty eyes.”
He lifted an amused brow. ‘That way’ would take him to the kitchen and eventually, an alleyway behind the building.
“How about an address?” he asked. “To give to the cab-driver.”
He grabbed a paper napkin and a pen. She wrote slowly, carefully, her handwriting still managing to be neater than his illegible scrawl.
“You don’t live far from me,” he said, lying smoothly. “Just one block south, to be precise. Would you like a lift home?”
“Never get in the car with strangers,” she said firmly.
“A cab driver is also a stranger,” he pointed out.
“Not the same thing.”
“Nope. But on second thought, I’m not sure you’ll find a cab in this weather.”
“That’s right,” she said, smiling broadly for the first time. The expression transformed her face from plain to pretty. Her innocence amused and tickled him. “It’s snowing. Like a White Christmas.”
He couldn’t help it. He grinned; it was January. She wasn't just drunk, she was completely sloshed. But still amazingly stable and logical.

“Let’s get you home,” he said, coming around the bar to help her from the stool. This was not something he ever did. He owned the bars; how the patrons got home was their problem, not his. But he couldn’t just leave this girl to her own devices, not unless he wanted the next time he heard about her to be her name in an obituary. She’d probably fall asleep in the cold right outside his bar and die. It would cause all sorts of unwanted paperwork and police questions.

She didn’t even need his help standing up. The liquor, it seemed, had not affected her balance one bit. Still, he kept a hand on her back to steer her. He locked up behind them while she stood looking at him through her wide, trusting eyes.
“You’re really tall,” she said. “I wish I was taller.”
“You’re the perfect height,” he said. “See? My arm fits right round your shoulders. You’re like a portable armrest.”
She didn’t giggle at that, and he wondered of she’d heard him. It was a pretty lame joke, but in his experience, drunk people will laugh at anything.
“I wish I was hot,” she said. “Like you. But not like you. Like a girl. Then maybe I could have sex.”
He coughed, choking on his breath, the way some people trip over their own feet.
“What?” he asked when he finally had the air back in the right pipes.
“I wish I was prettier,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m not being pessimistic, really. I just; well, no use crying for the moon, is there?”
“You are pretty,” he said automatically. She sighed.
“I’m not. But thank you for pretending, anyway. Oh, my goodness, it’s cold.”
He had just opened the back door and yes, it was cold indeed. The wind was blowing sheets of snow into their faces and heaping it against the side of the building. He steered her with one hand in the direction of his car, which was parked under the staff-members-only roof.

He cranked up the heater and took the drive slowly and carefully. The cold was making her drowsy, and he could see her head drooping slightly. No doubt the drinks were finally taking effect.
“I take it you don’t drink often?” he said.
“Nope,” she said, pulling the edges of her rather ugly coat closer around her. “I’ve never been drunk before.”
Until tonight, he thought, but he waited for her to continue on her own. After a few seconds, she did.
“I’m sort of a virgin,” she said.” By choice. But it’s not my choice.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Technically I’m no longer one. But I’ve never been with a man, you know?”
Well, he certainly knew now. But his years as a barman had taught him when to listen and when to talk. So he kept quiet.

“Well, anyway, I always thought it was because I’m too shy. Men don’t like that, right?”
“Some do,” he said, because what else could he say?
“Liar,” she said fondly. “Nobody wants to be with somebody who’s ashamed of themselves. I know I wouldn’t like that in a man, so I can hardly expect any man to show interest in me. That’s why I went out tonight,” she added after a few seconds. “Too see if drinking helps me get loose. Turns out I’m even boring when I’m drunk.”

“You’re not boring,” he said firmly. “You just need to learn how to fake it. Everybody is secretly self-conscious. Some just hide it better that others. You need to find a way to pretend. If you can convince yourself, you know other people will believe it.”
“I don’t think I’d know how,” she said. “I’m no good at acting or pretending or lying. I can’t even lie to telephone sales people. “
“I’ll help you,” he said impulsively. “I’ll show you how to fake it.”
“Really?”
“Sure. When you’re sober. Anything I teach you now will be wasted.”
“Like me,” she sighed. “I’m wasted, and all I want to do is go to bed. That’s my building up there.’
“That’s a gas station,” he said with a grin.
“Oh.” She frowned. “Then it’s not my building, is it?”
“I sincerely hope not.”

They found her building eventually, tucked away between a tall, scary-looking block of flats and a three-story bridal boutique. He helped her out of the car and up the steps. It took her three times to key the right series of numbers into the keypad so the door would open. Finally, she recited them to him to read it in.

“Thank you,” she said awkwardly. “For the lift, and the ear.”
He grinned. “No problem,” he said. “Hey, what’s your name?”
“Emily,” she said.
Emily. It suited her perfectly, as if her parents had had a glimpse of her in the future when they named her. She looked like an Emily more than anybody else he’d ever met.
“I’m Brandon,” he said. “Can I pick you up tomorrow around noon for your first lesson?”
“Lesson?”
“In faking it.”
It occurred to him then that ‘faking it’ might refer to something else as well, but he always made damn sure a girl does not need to fake it when she’s with him. Not that he planned to have sex with her. This girl’s second name was Complication. It would be cruel to pluck her cherry and then be off on his merry way. She was not the type to come; and then go.
“Okay. Wanna come up?”

He considered saying no, but realized she might need help to get into her apartment. It seemed her brain had simply been behind on its reaction, and she was finally in the clumsy imbalance phase of drunkenness.
She might get hurt, or lost, or wind up asleep on a hallway chair somewhere.
“Sure,”’ he said.

It was three interesting flights of stairs. She only almost-fell seven times, even with his arm around her waist. She was still incessantly polite, apologizing profusely and telling him how pretty he was.
Yeah, because that’s what every guy secretly wants to be. Pretty.

He had to take her keys and unlock the door himself. She was toppling over and had to hold onto the wall with both hands to keep from introducing her ass to the ground. It was a good thing she was wearing sensible flats rather than sexy heels, and he had to be the first guy ever to have that particular thought.
“There we go,” he said when he finally got the door open. She would need to get a locksmith to take a look at the thing; the key had stuck a bit, as if the mechanism inside was rusty.

Her house surprised him. He had unconsciously expected it to be decorated like something from the Victorian Era; Chintz and flowers, frilly and stuffy. Chokingly girly. It wasn’t. Oh, it was undeniable a female place, but it was feminine rather than girlish. The door opened into the sitting room, which had a sage green couch with big white pillows and lampshades. The lavender curtains had been drawn against the cold air and what was probably a dreary scene outside. The art against the walls was lovely; no modern skyscrapers with red splashes to indicate blood and lust, or wriggling shapes than reminded him of female sex organs during ovulation.

A small little galley kitchen on the right showed no dirty dishes in the sink, and a gleaming espresso machine on the countertop next to an equally gleaming microwave.
He half-carried, half-dragged her to the only other door, guessing it to be the bedroom.

It was, and here was more proof of neat, uncluttered taste. The room was tiny, with built-in cupboards and barely enough space to walk around the bed to the bathroom on the other side.
“You gonna kiss me now?” she asked when he helped her onto the bed and slid a pillow under her head.
“Sure, thing, honey,” he said as he switched on the bedside lamp so he could turn off the harsh overhead fixture. “In a minute, okay? You just wait right there.”
He made sure she wasn’t too close to the edge to roll off and brought her a glass of water from the kitchen. He found Advils in her bathroom cabinet, along with some make-up and an unopened packet of condoms. Pity stirred his heart. She was well and truly lonely, wasn't she? All cosseted in her small little apartment, hiding behind books and pretty paintings. So far he hadn’t seen any sign of a cat, but maybe the building didn’t allow pets.

He found a heater and turned it up. She was lying suspiciously still on her side, one arm flung out to the side. He tucked it into a more comfortable position. It was the desire to get her comfortable as much as curiosity that made him wait until she was deeply asleep, or, more likely, passed out, before he pulled her coat off to reveal her body.

She was small, and firm, and the only word he could think of to describe her was neat. She was utterly non-descript. She had tits, but they were just there, situated on her chest much in the way a nose is situated more or less in the middle of a face. He doubted he’d notice them if he saw her in the line at the grocery store other than for the obvious reason; they were female tits, and therefore bound to be noticed, even if they did not get a second look. They were completely average tits. He couldn’t see much, as she was wearing a creamy beige sweater that had clearly been bought with an eye on heat rather than hotness, and brown slacks that sat loose around her legs and revealed nothing about what her body looked like.
He shook his head as he slipped her shoes from her feet and considered doing her another favor and tossing them in the trash. They were butt-fuck-ugly. He hated sensible shoes on a woman.

He pulled the quilt over her body and since he had some experience with drunk people, found a plastic bucket in her kitchen to put next to her bed. She seemed to have missed the psychedelic-yawn, porcelain-god-worshipping part of the evening, but judging by the fact that her body seemed to have its own ideas of how to react to alcohol, he wasn't taking anything for granted. She would hate herself if she woke up in the morning, only to find she’d puked all over her pretty, plush white carpet. Who bought white carpets anyway? Wasn't that like a direct invite to Karma and Murphy and all those other sadistic creatures who makes people spill coffee just after they get dressed in a new shirt, or back their car into a lamp pole the first time they take it out for a drive?

He left a piece of paper with the instructions to drink the tablets and the water next to the glass and went back downstairs, only to tread back up when he couldn’t find his keys in his pocket.
It wasn’t in the living room either, nor anywhere else in her house that he could find. He went as far as opening her underwear drawer (he really was desperate, after all,) and was not too surprised that they weren’t there. He was pleasantly surprised, however, that the librarian lady had quite good taste in underwear. He didn’t touch any of the pretty lace and satin snips of fabric, but he could imagine them on her easily enough, and it made for a pretty image.

He finally located his keys; sitting in the ignition of his car, the doors firmly locked against him.
“Son of a bitch!” he said, slamming a frustrated hand onto the snow-covered roof. “Dammit!”
He took his phone from his pocket and tried to call a cab company to come get him and take him home to get his spare key, but just as he got an operator his phone made a cheerful beep just before the battery died. He considered throwing the piece of shit into the nearest heap of snow, but figured that would be counterproductive.
He was stuck, and he’d be dammed if he was going to wait for the sun to rise outside on the streets, looking at a locked car.

He trudged back upstairs, grateful that he hadn’t been able to lock the door behind him and made himself at least semi-comfortable on Emily’s couch, and closed his eyes. By any luck he would be awake and gone long before Miss Emily found the courage to leave her bed. And when he left, he would stay gone. She probably won’t remember the impulsive promise he had made to help her get confidence, so she won’t be upset when he doesn’t show up. He already regretted the invitation; Emily the librarian was not the type of girl he needed to spend time with. She was too shy; she said so herself; and she dressed atrociously. Except for her underwear, of course. She was plain, bordering on dowdy, a self-proclaimed virgin, (whatever she had meant by technically) and she had you’re-going-to-break-my-heart written all over her.

She was a librarian, for good

Abandon Ship: Part 2

Piper's Posts — Sun, 08 Dec 2024 10:14:00 -0600

Jemima provides Davy with kinky new insights into female sexuality.

By Big galute. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

"Davy if I could, I would marry you at this very moment."

"Don't mock me."

"I'm not, I'm serious."

I didn't answer, finally realizing that I was stuck on a boat in the middle of the ocean with an insane woman.

"I don't know about God but I do know about the church and the clergy that tell us about sins of the flesh, many of the clergy are the biggest sinners amongst us." I stayed silent but knew that I'd heard many men on the river saying the same thing.

"Why can our bodies do such things? Why does it feel so wonderful when we do? Surely humans are designed to enjoy sex in whichever way they want?"

I couldn't think of any answers to Jemi's words but still thought she was insane.

"I know that I have a high spirit and enjoy doing the things society tells me I mustn't, but that's not because I am bad but rather because I am free and should be allowed to make up my own mind. All the men I have ever been introduced to, have been vain, shallow, or stupid; sometimes all three."

I listened to her profound words, but she wasn’t yet done; "In a different situation we may never have met, or if we did we would not have spoken. But you are different from them, we are stuck on this little boat but you are sweetest, most sincere man I have ever met. I also sense a wild free-spirit inside you, longing to get out."

Any doubts I had about Jemi's sincerity disappeared as she kissed me, a soft, gentle, loving kiss. We molded together as Jemi nuzzled her head into my chest and placed her leg across me, causing me to harden and grow and causing Jemi to giggle.

"I love you, and I love your tallywacker." She said before falling asleep.

I awoke to the early morning sun and to Jemi sitting upright and smiling down at me, "Is it always that engorged in the mornings?" She asked, her eyes roving down my body and her smile widening, the mischievous glint back in her eye.

"Sometimes."

"I've been staring at it for ages, it twitches and moves and you sometimes touch it in your sleep."

She placed her hand to my forehead and laughed, "Good, no fever. Your face is so red I wondered."

I went to sit up but Jemi gently pushed me back down, "Lay still, I want to study it awhile."

I could have refused and insisted that we got busy with the sail but I was getting use to Jemi and knew there was no point.

"My friend Imogen says her husband's is short and fat, with a rather musty, unpleasant smell." "Yours appears to be long and fat and I could detect no unpleasant smells." Seeing my puzzled look, Jemi said, "I smelt it whilst you were asleep. Actually it was quite fascinating, I blew on it and it twitched. The bulbous gland at the top appears to be the most sensitive, the thick shaft less so."

Laying there listening to my beautiful angel ruminate about my appendage was exhilarating and highly arousing and I knew that I wished it always to be so, I also knew that we needed to get sailing if we were to have any chance of survival.

"I think we should hoist our sail." I suggested, changing the subject.

"You're probably right." Jemi went quiet and I think I detected a new glow to her cheeks. "Imogen says that when her husband emits semen in the morning he is far more productive and it assuages any foul humor he may have." "Would you like to emit some semen?"

I nodded, unable to refuse. "Teach me how, so I would know how best to do it." Jemi said.

I wanted to ask what else Imogen had said but dared not, instead telling Jemi; “I just wrap my fingers around it and pull back & forth, Like you did last night." She thought about this for a while before asking, "Do you think of things when you do it?"

"Sometimes, last night was the first time anyone else has ever done it for me and I didn't need to think of anything."

Two virgin shipwreck survivors share a lifeboat and a few more discoveries in the Victorian-era

By Big galute. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

"Man the lifeboats! Abandon ship! Abandon ship!"

We had been at sea for ten days when the storm hit, our splendid vessel battered and broken into no more than firewood, all the passengers and crew seemingly lost.

I came to, my legs dangling in the water and my arms and upper body atop some flotsam timbers. The sea around me was calm, with small pieces of wreckage everywhere. I tried to look around, the throbbing pain in my head and the low morning sun making it hard to focus; no one to be seen, just me.

I pulled myself up onto the driftwood, too tired to think, my mind too blurred to do anything other than curl up and sleep.

Davy, Davy Arthur that's me, eighteen years old and on my first ship. I'd grown up by the Thames, my father worked on the tugs but died when I was young. It was in my blood and I'd always dreamt of being at sea, then my mother died and I got a job as a stoker on the SS Cadwallader, sailing to the new world. In other words, I assisted in tending the boiler furnace for this steam ship named for a Welsh king from centuries ago.

The several months I spent shoveling coal into the furnace, reduced my once-stocky six foot frame by more than 2 inches around my waistline.

"Hello, Hello. Are you okay there, are you alive?"

I tried to follow the voice, a ladies voice, young and a bit wispy & screechy as she shouted out to me, "Hello, I'm over here, can you see me?" I slowly turned my head and body to the left, maybe 3 rods away from me was a small wooden life boat, a damsel frantically waving her arms at me. I managed to raise one arm to let her know I was alive and she started to paddle with one oar, the boat turning sideways rather than towards me, then I think I passed out again.

"Hello, are you alright, can you move?" The voice was much closer now, kind and posh, like the ladies I had sometimes overheard in coming out of tearooms in London. The boat was now less than a fathom from me but I felt hardly able to move, all my strength needed to perch up on one elbow.

"I'll hold out the oar, see if you can grab it." The wispy voice directed.

I used my free arm to grab it, then held on for dear life and found myself getting right up to the starboard, till a soft hand grasped my wrist. "You'll have to help me, I can't pull you in by myself. Can you get onto your knees?"

I did as she said, and rolled up over the rail, then plonked myself onto the small lifeboat, almost tipping us as I did so.

"Oh you poor thing, you're all cuts and bruises." As she said this she supported my head and offered water to my lips, "Drink slowly in case you get sick." Consciousness was a fleeting state, and I could not decipher reality from delirious dreams.

I looked up at her pale lips and beautiful green eyes and wondered if she were an angel and I was dead; my thoughts slipping as my eyes closed; the ripping of material and my angel saying "We must cover you from the sun." being the last sounds I heard.

I felt a wet cloth on my forehead and heard soothing words being spoken, the smiling face of my ‘angel’ looking down at me as I opened my eyes.

"Hello again." Came her pleasant greeting. I think I smiled back and then tried to sit up

"Take it easy, let me help you." She offered. I felt the wonderful softness of her body against mine as she set me upright.

The spinning in my head slowed as I tried to focus and clear the fog in my brain; shipwreck, lifeboat, angel. "Do you remember going overboard and the ship sinking?" My angel asked.

I shook my head, in the affirmative.

"I think you must have banged your head pretty badly’” she assessed. “You have a nasty bruise on the side of it."

I put my hand up and felt the tender area above my ear. "I think you have what Professor Gower refers to as a concussion, are you familiar with Professor Gower's work." I again shook my head in the negative.

"He's the eminent neurologist of our time. I think you should be okay in a day or two."

I nodded, then asked; "What's your name, and are you an angel?"

Lady_Mary. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Chapter 1

I grew up in a very conservative family. My father was the boss in the family business, which was created by his father, which was my grandfather. My mother took care of the house and the children, whatever else she wanted to do the approval had to be given by my father. A wife was to be her husband’s adornment and calling card; I, my sisters and brothers were brought up with this motto.

Cecily? Father is calling you. I was pulled out of the activity by the voice of one of the brothers, Arthur.

I am on my way. I nod as I put my knitting aside. I run it over the fabric of my blue dress a few times to smooth it out and present myself impeccably in front of my father.

My father was a traditionalist. Together with our mother they took care of our impeccable dress. Especially the girls. Our dresses, because that was all we could wear, usually reached our ankles or mid-calf. Anything shorter was inappropriate. Tights were also compulsory. My family believed that ladies from good homes should always have them.

I nod in respect as I enter my father’s study. He sits in his swivel leather-covered chair, looking as perfect as ever in his suit trousers and white shirt, ironed by my mother.

He said in a cordial tone, indicating a chair for me to sit down, then said; “Mother praises you immensely, you have become a great help to her. I am extremely pleased about that.”

“ Thank you, Father. Praise always makes me happy.” I said with a smile.

“Therefore,” Father puts the stack of papers aside. “I thought you were mature enough to think about your household”.

“My household?” I repeated in surprise. I felt my face turn white.

“This is what awaits every woman. I thought my mother and I had instilled this in you all.” The man walks around the desk and sits on its edge almost beside me so that he can brush his fingertips against my cheeks. “You are our great pride. You will be the same for your husband. Lucky him.”

“So… who will it be?” I ask timidly.

“You will find out in time. You will like it. Of that I am certain.” Father blinks one eyelid at me. “First the engagement and a few… procedures involved.”

“Procedures?” I asked.

“Your mother will prepare you. You have nothing to fear. Well… That is all. You may return to your duties, my child.”

“Thank you, father.” I bow my head before I leave my father’s office.

My preparations for the nuptials began almost immediately… although I did not know to whom I would be married. I also still didn’t know anything about the procedures I was to go through and my father had mentioned them.

“The doctor will be with you shortly, lie still, my lady.” The maid instructed me.

In fact, there was nothing wrong with me, but it was necessary for the engagement to be announced. That is what mother and one of my brothers said.

So I was fulfilling a commitment. I lay in my huge bed, dressed in something like a nightdress, but much shorter than a standard one, for here the linen material ended above my knee.

I didn’t wait too long as the door to my room soon opened. I saw a man with blonde hair and at first sight he was two heads taller than me.

He placed his brown leather bag on the table that was next to the bed.

“Lady Cecily? I’m doctor Mason. I am here to confirm your readiness for the sacrament of marriage. I understand that this is your first examination of this kind, but I assure you that you have nothing to fear.” The young doctor sent me a weak smile. “ At first, I ask you to move down toward the base of the bed and spread your legs.”

“What? “ I could not believe what I had just heard. Red was on my cheeks almost immediately.

“Lady Cecily. It would be far better for yourself to do it voluntarily. Neither of us wants it to be unpleasant, do we?” he warned.

I obediently move down and spread my thighs. I seek solace in looking at the ceiling of my bedroom. It was decorated with hierubines that were supposed to watch over the cleanliness and good conduct of the girls.

“Wider. Lady Cecily, I will have to say a word to your father and husband-to-be. None of them will be pleased.”

“Excuse me… I never… “ I’m at a loss for words, but I spread my legs as he asks me. This contributes to the material of the garment falling up over my stomach and the man can now see my femininity.

“It’s very nice…” I feel the touch of a stranger’s single fingers on me. In a place so carefully hidden. The blonde man takes a seat on the stool between my legs. “I can see the hymen. It is not too thin That’s good. Your spouse will be pleased with this gift. Are you sinning?”

“Am I sinning?” I ask almost in a whisper.

“Have you ever touched yourself in a sinful way? In places… that you shouldn’t have? Don’t lie. I’m a representative of the church. God listens and can punish.”

“No, no, never! I swear.” I plead terrified, but almost immediately I let out a shrill scream. I feel something inside me.

“Relax, it’s a good sign… Your husband will have something to work on.” I watch as the doctor slides one of his fingers out of the copper. “With God’s Grace, you will not be a less fruitful woman than your mother. Undress.”

I untied the 3 bows on the front of the shirt without protest. I didn’t want my future spouse to think I was a troublemaker. I am far from it. I rose to a sitting position when asked to do so.

“Considerable for such a young person, but very nice. 85d to my eye.” He affirms, squeezing both my breasts in his hand, which makes me squeal. “Sensitive… Your husband will be really happy. Have you eaten anything since yesterday?”

“No, my mother told me not to eat anything after breakfast yesterday. The test could give bad results.”

I look up as the man walks away towards his leather bag. He looks for something for a moment.

“You have a wise mother. Kneel down politely on the floor.”

I do so, but first I throw on and tie my petticoat. I see the doctor smile but say nothing for a long moment. He takes slow steps towards me with something shiny in his hand, but I can’t see what it is.

“Open your mouth wide.” he ordered.

I do so immediately and unexpectedly the doctor stuffs something into my mouth, sort of like a bite block that a dentist might use, and ties it at the back of my head. My mouth opens even wider, which causes a slight pain.

“Take it easy. Put your hands behind your back and let them stay there.” The man sighs somewhat amused. “Now listen to me carefully. We must see how much you can take… it’s very important.”

Take? I understood absolutely nothing. I wanted to talk to the man, but my mouth was opened by some metal. I could not form anything into words. I kneel impatiently as the man walks towards his bag again and firmly presses something to the wall mirror. I am unable to see it for a long moment. Then at last I see it! I have heard about this… but a long time ago I put it out of my mind. Wives had to please their husbands in many ways when they were pregnant, often doing it with their mouths, wrapping their lips tightly around the penis to please the man. The doctor came to me and helped me to stand up, leading me to a kind of test where I knelt down again, facing the mirror.

“I know that the lesson programme for female marriage preparation talks about this. However, I understand that you may have forgotten. What you see is a dildo. Silicone. Here on the side.” He points his finger to the right side of the tool. Numbers appear every few centimetres.

“This will tell us what level you are starting from. Hence the spider gag in your mouth so you can get the best possible result.”

I look at the man, at the reproduction of the male penis. It is so big and thick… I can’t take it. Indeed, it’s a good thing I haven’t eaten anything… although my stomach is starting to hurt just thinking about it.

“Go ahead. I won’t finish this visit until you take.”

I squeeze my hands together behind my back and slowly slide the dildo into my mouth. I start to choke when I feel it at the starting point of my throat and almost immediately pull my head back, causing me to cough and my eyes fill with tears.

“Try again,” he orders.

“I ca ca.” I want to say I can’t make it, but I can’t form any words and all doctor can hear is sobbing.

“Take it easy. Many young women fail to do this properly.” The doctor kneels beside me. “I’ll push your head and hold it for a while Okay? This might hurt a little.”

I nod in acknowledgement that I agree, although the truth is that he didn’t need my consent. I felt his large but gentle hands sink into my brown curly hair and after a moment he pushed my head without indicating. I’m running out of air, so my hands are almost immediately on the wall to push back. My saliva flows out of my mouth onto the floor and mixes with my tears. Soon the push subsides and I gasp loudly for air.

“10 centimetres. Perfect for a start, young lady.” I feel him unbuckle the strap from the spider gag on the back of my head and pull out the dildo.

“In the face of everything, I can confirm that you can marry. You can stand up, Lady Cecily.”

Although I was still a little stunned, a smile appeared on my face. My parents will be proud, especially my father.

“Thank you doctor and… I apologize for my behaviour.”

“Nothing has happened. Fortunately, you turned out to be as obedient as you are said to be.” The man hides the instruments in his bag and pulls out a notebook. “You bleed regularly, according to your mother… The only thing I can recommend is vitamins. This will help in creating a family and in bringing new life into this world.” He speaks confidently and writes down on a piece of paper, which he seals at the end. “God bless you, young bride.”

I say goodbye to the doctor, and immediately after him mother enters the chambers, before whom I bow as I did before my father to pay my respects.

“The doctor has praised you. Father is delighted. So is your fiancé.”

“Who is it? My fiancé?”

“Daughter… These things only happen at the altar.” She says amused by my question, which I could ask several times a day. “Now you must be clothed and this must go back to its place.” She points to my belt, my virginity belt.

I have worn this attribute of maturity since I started menstruating. This has happened to every young woman in our faith. Without it, we might have sinned and tarnished the honour of the family, thus derailing any chance of a favourable marriage. It was locked with a key, and this was put in father’s possession. On the wedding day it will be given to my husband.

“Do married women… have to wear it too, mother?” I ask as she helps me put it on and then locks it.

“Depends on their husbands. When they are in a blessed state, they usually don’t, at least in the later stages of pregnancy.”

I look at my mother. She was only 36 years old and pregnant, another fruit of my parents’ marriage. My mother has never been without a child for more than 2 years. My parents believed that procreation was the purpose for which God created man and woman. They fulfilled it scrupulously. The Church also had this as the highest value of human life, especially of a woman.

“Your underwear needs to be replaced. This one is too childish for a married woman.” mother says. “The same with your dresses… but here your spouse will have a word.”

“I will put on your corset. A young married woman has no right to hunch over.” Mother pulls out my white Victorian-style corset from the wardrobe, to which I obediently allow myself to adorn and tie it, even though it was an uncomfortable piece of clothing.

“Can it be a little looser, please?”

“Wait a minute. You will soon get used to it. Look here, my dear.” I turn to the mirror & see my image. No one dreams of such a waist.

I smile because I would be lying if I didn’t like seeing how small I can be at this point on my body.

“Will my sister Elizabeth be coming to my nuptials?”

“It is hard to say. She is expecting a baby. It is a delicate time for a woman. You will see for yourself soon enough.”

A woman puts a white dress with embroidered sunflowers on me. My shoulders were prominent, so I was a bit surprised by this choice by my parent. However, I immediately understood that this little boldness was meant to imply that I was expecting the wedding. Exactly. Wedding!

“So when? When will it happen?” I ask.

“In a few days… Our faith wants a girl to become a woman on her fertile days, preferably on those… the most important ones. Yours is coming.”

For days afterwards, preparations were underway for the big event. The family and the servants were preparing for my wedding.

My belongings were packed, although most of my clothes remained. I was assured that a wardrobe tailor-made for a married woman awaited me in my new home. Mostly my cosmetics, bedding and a small collection of jewelry were completed.

I was obliged to go to bed early. Like a younger sibling, I was supposed to be in bed by 8.30 p.m. already. All this so that I would not be a tired bride. I was also taught the art of make-up and made sure my body was smooth. Husbands did not tolerate unnecessary hair.

“Lady Cecily, a box for you.” a servant said from the hall.

“A box? At this hour?” I ask surprised when the maid puts the box on my bed. It was of considerable size and wrapped in cobalt ribbon. I have never received a package before bedtime. “Thank you. You may go.” I had just come out of the bath wearing my robe and my belt was off for the bath.

I waited until I was alone and with great excitement began to open… a gift? I guess you could call it that. I took a deep breath and lifted the lid.

My God… what… white lace underwear appeared before my eyes. I took one part, which was supposed to be panties, but… it didn’t cover anything.

Only after a while did I see a small card. I take it in my hands with a trembling heart.

“Hello My Spouse-to-be. I’m sure you’re surprised by the contents of the package. Consider it a gift for the night that will make us soon married.”

“I will be extremely pleased to see you in it. I believe that you care about pleasing your husband.”

“Nevertheless, I know that you are a woman undefiled in deed or word. But I want to let you have a taste of the married life. I’ve discussed this with your parents, so you don’t have to worry about me tarnishing your good name.”

“At the bottom of the packet is something like an egg and a gel. I would like you to moisten your womanhood and gently insert the egg as deep as you can, my doll… ”

I lifted the full material of my underwear and pulled out a pink ball from under it. It did indeed look like a small egg. I took a deep breath and placed a few drops of gel on my fingers. I opened my legs and this opened up my womanhood. I rubbed some of the gel in, but thought it might be worth doing with the toy itself. I breathed deeply to relax and do the job properly. I moaned several times, feeling my hole being expanded and trying to swallow I took a piece of paper in my hands to read the rest of the letter.

“ Once you’ve done that, put on your belt. We don’t want a sinful moment to come over you. Give the key back to your maid who is waiting outside the door.”

“Then take your phone and call the number below…”

“Your future husband”

I was extremely uncomfortable in something inside. I was taking big steps, and it was apparently going to stay in me for an unknown amount of time. After putting on my virgin belt, I handed over the key to the maid who was indeed waiting outside the door

I sat on the bed, but this position was uncomfortable and I did much better when I lay down. I picked up the phone and with my thoughts swirling I called the number indicated. I did not wait long, because the call was answered.

“Um… hello? Lady Cecily?” I heard a warm male tone. Nice one.
I’ve been waiting for your call. So I believe you did what I asked for?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Okay.. so we can start.”

“Start wha, ah, ah!” I screamed as I felt some vibrations in my womb, but almost immediately closed my mouth with one hand and the vibrations stopped.

“ What’s wrong, doll?” I heard the man’s amusement. “Forgive me. Apparently that’s too much to start with. I want you to lie down politely. Relaxed and closed eyes.”

I felt the vibrations again, but were much softer. But I couldn’t help but sigh.

They grew stronger every moment, and that made my breathing heavy. I felt the muscles in my lower abdomen tighten and the tension grew.

“Oh My…” I sigh loudly, but then the vibration stops. “What? why…”

“You need to rest, little doll. I cannot let you reach the pinnacle of pleasure. It awaits you only in our life together.”

“It was wonderful. Thank you… what’s your name?”

“You’ll find out soon. Now go to sleep as a good girl.” He said, then hung up. I experienced something like this for the first time… and it’s not the end, apparently. So, the life of a married woman… was also pleasurable?

by Lady_Mary for Literotica

Virgo Constellation Shift: part 3

Piper's Posts — Thu, 05 Dec 2024 17:07:00 -0600

Virgo invites classmate over, to pursue a more honorable deflowering.

By Millsy Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

"Why is there a dice on your telly?"

"Oh, no reason,” I winked at her.

She plucked it off the top of the TV and threw it onto the bed. Up rolled the 6.

"Want to try again,” I asked.

"Where's the prize list. What do I get for a 6,” She smiled, setting her wine glass down and laying back on the bed.

"There isn't one. What do you say, three each. I do the odds, you do the evens?"

"Pen?"

I wrote mine down and put the paper upside down on the dresser. I'd gone for a gentle break-in. 1 was a three minute snog, 3 was a tit sucking, and 5 was a full strip down to nothing. Basically it was nothing that she hadn't already done. I had no idea what she'd written down for the evens, and she laid her piece of paper down on top of mine. "Who goes first,” She asked.

"You do. And if you don't want to do it you can back out at any time. No pressure,” I assured her. I placed the dice in the palm of her hand. "Roll it, baby."

It came up a 4.

"Hmmm.. that's one of mine,” She smiled, turning over her piece of paper and folding it so that I could read only what she had written for 4.

"Undress your partner?"

"That means you. I get to undress you, totally. Stand up,” She commanded me. Somewhat hesitantly I obeyed; then she gently kissed me on the lips as her hands deftly worked at my belt buckle.

"What about you,” I asked as she pulled my shirt up out of my jeans and began to unbutton it.

"Well, you've already seen me in the nude, and more, so if you don't roll a 4 it gets to be my turn to see you naked and there's nothing you can do about it. Unless you want to chicken out now,” She added as she slid her hands up my exposed chest and slipped the shirt off my shoulders. Of course, she didn't know that a 5 would see her stark naked as well, but with that she'd have to undress herself. In moments my shirt was on the floor, and her tongue traced lightly across my chest as she sank down onto her knees, my crotch at eye level as she popped the button on my jeans and unzipped me slowly. I gulped, and I looked out my bedroom window and across the main road, suddenly aware that my curtains were open and there was a possibility that we were being watched.

"I'll close the curtains,” I said as she undid the laces of my trainers.

"No! Leave them,” She said as she inched my trousers down, my hardening cock straining in my boxer shorts. If it got any harder it would be peeking out the top, and she'd be able to see it in a moment. My jeans fell around my knees, and I stumbled onto the bed after a gentle nudge from her that enabled her to then throw my trainers and my socks across the room. "Stand up again,” She said, still on her knees in front of me, my penis now stretching my boxers damn near to breaking point. "Almost there,” She murmured, licking her dry lips as both hands began to ease the elasticated waistband of my shorts down. My cock was pulled about inside as she eased them down, bent into an uncomfortable angle as her hands tugged my shorts down off my hips, then she moved both hands into light contact with my cock through the thin fabric of my shirts and peeled the cloth over the head of my shaft, exposing me. After that my shorts were on the floor around my ankles, then on the window sill, and she kneeled before me, my cock almost in her face.

"Now that's a good looking dick,” She murmured.

"Seen a lot,” I wondered aloud.

"Internet access” she admitted. “Only good for stealing music and hardcore porn,” She laughed, and I felt her cool, minty breath wash over my prick, making it jerk involuntarily. Would she touch it? Would she kiss it, suck it, wank it into her mouth? I mused as I looked down at her and she looked back up at me in blazing, lustful eye contact. I felt her hand on my thigh, moving upward, then her fingers touched mine and pressed the dice into my hand.

I rolled a 1, and showed her my list. She stood up in front of me and we snogged hard, my naked cock rubbing against her jeans as her hands roamed all over my body in the clinch, grabbing at my naked ass, pinching my nipples, her tongue next to frantic as it explored my mouth and my hands were inside her sweater, squeezing her tits through her bra as we moaned into each other’s mouths. She avoided touching my cock with her fingers as it stood erect, trapped between us, but still I could feel the juices building up in my balls from the arousal that she was driving me to. I broke away and she picked up the dice from the bed.

She rolled a 2, which was also a snog, and lay down on the bed, beckoning me on top of her. I covered her body with mine and latched my lips onto her face again, and this time her fingernails were digging into my ass as I lay on top of her, pulling the cheeks of my butt apart as she writhed beneath me, my cock pressing down against the V of her crotch. I groaned as her fingers traversed the crack of my ass, grinding my hips against her in a dry hump that also brought a few moans from her own mouth that were smothered by my tongue. The next roll was another 4 and I went to work as she lay on the bed.

Virgo’s desired damsel gives a surprise ‘window-cam’ private performance for him.

By Millsy. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

We snogged on her doorstep again, and when she disappeared inside I ran home, straight back up to the loft, and trained the telescope on her bedroom window. Tonight she stood in front of the computer desk with the bedroom light on, facing the window, and unbuttoned her blouse, peeling it off her shoulders in one smooth shrug and allowing it to drop to the floor behind her. She was standing there in jeans and her straining white bra, and I unzipped my trousers and awkwardly pulled out my stiff and aching cock as she reached behind her to unclasp her bra.

I saw her big tits full frontal then for the first time, and I watched rapt as her hands cupped them, thumbs stroking the still hard nipples in exactly the way that I had wanted to touch her just moments before as she closed her eyes and licked her lips. Did she know, I wondered, that I was watching her? Was this a show? Had she twigged that the second loft window, the one that I hadn't let her look through in the telescope gave me an unobstructed view of her window? Or was she just doing what she liked to do, touching herself up after she was turned on, whether by the strangers on the internet or by what we had done tonight, and had simply forgotten to close her blinds?

Did it matter, I asked myself as my hard cock jerked again at the sight of her unbuttoning her jeans, unzipping them, easing them down past her hips, her panties inadvertently coming down her legs with them. The triangle of her pubic mound stared me in the face, then disappeared as she bent forward, eclipsed for several seconds by her hanging tits as she stepped out of her jeans. I swallowed as she stood again, now totally naked, and she threw her long black hair back over her head and put one foot up on the foot of the bed. I watched her hand slide between her legs and hug her crotch, watched it move up and down as she rubbed herself, watched her pinching her teats with her other hand as she closed her eyes and fantasized about fucking me. Did she know I was here with my cock in my hand, wanking slowly? Did she know that we were right at that moment doing exactly what she did with her internet lovers, that I could see her the through the telescope the way that she could see the webcam cocks that had gotten her off so often in the past?

Then she turned and touched the keyboard of her PC, and the monitor sprang to life. She sat down still naked at the desk and typed away. My laptop burbled a warning of an incoming message.

"What are you doing,” called the screen.

"Thinking about you,” I replied.

"That's sweet,” She responded. "Are you busy tomorrow night?"

"Nothing planned,” I fired back.

"Come over at eight?"

"Love to. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course,” Rebecca replied.

"Can you send me a photo of you?"

She lolled a reply, asking me if I'd forgotten what she looked like already, then I watched her browse through a folder before forwarding me a small 100k jpeg. When I opened it I saw a picture that she'd obviously taken with her mobile by simply holding it out in front of her and guessing. It was skewed and grainy, but the more I saw of her the better looking she seemed to be getting.

"I like that one,” I thanked her.

"I chose one of the better ones. I don't seem to be very photogenic, to be honest. Then she warned; “Now, no jerking off over it. I know what you boys are like."

In a way I was shocked at the way she just blurted that out, but one thing I was learning about Rebecca was that she had a very mischievous sense of humor and wasn't afraid to use either innuendo or overt and frank sexual language.

"Well I'm completely flabbergasted at your tone,” I sent back. "As if I would do something like that? Bloody good idea, by the way. See you on the bus."

"Good night,” Came back, then we both shut down our screens more or less simultaneously. I watched her for a while longer as she sat naked at her desk, exploring the drawer. After a moment out came a shocking pink colored tube that it took me a few seconds to recognize as a vibrator. She slipped it into her mouth and turned out the light."

"No,” I silently screamed, denied the delicious sight of her spearing her pussy with that sex toy, then my cum sprayed all over the floor, catching me completely by surprise.

I was late again for the bus, but this time when I boarded there was a youngster sitting next to her. I put my bag on a seat that a friend had kept for me, then I quickly moved back down the bus before the driver pulled away from the bus stop. I leaned over the third former sitting next to Rebecca and kissed her hard on the mouth for a full five seconds before winking and returning to my seat before the driver yelled at me again. I left her red faced, while some of the younger kids whooped and laughed. I did it purely because I didn't want her to think that I was keeping our relationship secret. I didn't care who knew I was seeing her, though I had no way of knowing at the time that this act would see me suspended from school in the lunch break.

"Morning,” I grinned at my mate Steve.

"What the fuck was that,” He asked. "You and Rebecca Lewis?"

Astronomy geek turns voyeur, and discovers a busty classmate’s bedroom window.

By Millsy. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

I lived at the top end of the village, my bedroom overlooking the main road and, of all things, a cemetery across the other side. Beyond that was the mountain that separated our valley from the next one across, so you'd think this was not exactly the ideal domain for somebody who held an unhealthy interest in space and astronomy while he was growing up.

What we did have, though, was a loft conversion with two large windows - one on each side - that tilted open so you had a clear and unobstructed view of most of the night sky from inside the house. While most people had to put their stargazing telescopes outside in the garden, mine was up there in the loft warm and dry all year round.

It was a nice 'scope with a 250x magnification. What that means is that something five hundred feet away would seem almost within touching reach of you as you gazed at it. I don't know how much it cost - £300, £400 maybe - as it was part of a long stream of space related Christmas presents that spanned several years from when I was 8 or 9 years old to the time that this tale relates to, when I was a nineteen year old getting ready to graduate from sixth form with my A levels and go to university. Water rockets, star charts, planetarium balls, computers and cameras had for years been my birthday and Christmas presents, and while the telescope was still a few years old, it was my most prized possession.

And not just because you could see details of the moon's rugged terrain with it, or make out the shape of the horsehead nebula in the constellation Sagittarius. Oh no. Since I had become sexually aware it had quite often been turned away from the night sky, and tilted much more earthward as a growing curiosity of not only what was above me, but also what was around me, began to plague my imagination. It had started with furtive spying on other kids playing on the mountainside, lighting fires with stolen matches, on older teens drinking and snogging and touching each other up supposedly out of sight of the village and their parents. Then once that had paled it had turned even more ground-ward in search of voyeuristic delights.

As I lived at the top end of the village the loft had a commanding view across the large, rectangular plot of allotments that lay behind our house. Around these allotments were other houses, all tightly packed terraced dwellings arranged around the perimeter of the allotments that took about ten minutes to walk around with my dog in the mornings. From the loft, with the telescope angled below the horizontal, I could see inside peoples’ gardens, kitchens, bathrooms and, obviously, bedrooms. The angles limited exactly what you could see, but with many houses I had what could be considered a fairly interesting view.

That's when I fell in lust with Rebecca.

Rebecca was like me; imperfect. I was skinny, geeky by nature, more interested in technology and astronomy than playing football and rugby and would rather be out with a radio controlled car than a pushbike. Rebecca was a little overweight - though certainly nowhere near obese - and spent most of her spare time in her bedroom either playing The Sims on her computer or wiling away the nights on the internet. I knew this because I could see her through the telescope. I didn't have a full view of her bedroom, but I got enough of an angle on her room that I could see her desk and dressing table, and maybe a third of the bottom of her bed. It was a bit of a mess, with clothes scattered everywhere, books and papers and hair care containers all over the place, but that was no different to my own. Occasionally mine was tidied, usually shortly after my parents had gone ballistic on me, but more often than not it looked little better than Bex's. I didn't notice after a while, though, because all I was interested in was her. The lens no longer looked out into space, but deep into Bex's bedroom.

She was a little younger - not by much, though, and had long black hair, most often tied up in a ponytail, and pale milky skin because like me she would rather stay indoors than go out. I don't suppose she had many friends - I never saw anyone else in her room while I was spying on her - and her habit of locking herself up inside rather than going out probably contributed to not just her pale complexion, but also the extra pounds that she carried. Don’t get me wrong here, Rebecca was not a fat girl, but she did carry that extra baggage that comes with growing up and it hadn't burned off due to the lack of exercise that her internet regimen dictated. She had also been one of the b-grade pupils through her years in comprehensive school, and that's why I hadn't noticed her before - we shared no common classes. Pupils were segregated into achievers and under-achievers from the age of thirteen, but Rebecca had clearly worked hard to move out of the lower band and into the uppers, which I reckoned might also help to explain her lack of close friends. She had outgrown her old ones by leaving them behind in their second grade classes, and the ones in the upper band had their own cliques and she hadn't found a way to be included in those.

As is common with some overweight girls, her face was rounded and relatively plain. Soft. When you looked closer - as I did on the bus on the way in to school every day and during Math which was the single cross-over lesson that we both endured together, you could see that beneath the puppy fat there was a very pretty face waiting to break out. Most don't notice these things normally, but when you begin to really focus on somebody the potential becomes so apparent that you wonder why the rest of the world doesn't see it. What attracted me to Rebecca, though, was not so much the awareness of how this girl could grow into a good looking woman, but that her secrets were every bit as dark as mine.

You see, the telescope showed me things about her that you would never normally imagine. It started when I was scanning the back bedrooms of the houses that overlooked the allotments, hoping to find a couple going at it like rabbits with the lights on and the curtains wide open - something that had happened just twice in about three years of below the horizon stargazing. Then one evening my lens settled on the glow of Becca's computer screen, and her profile highlighted in off-white light in the darkness as she MSN'd to complete strangers with her right hand while she felt her own boobs up with her left. My God that got me so hard it was painful, even though all I could see was a ghostly hand moving over her bra as the position of her desk and chair in relation to my view was at a bit of a difficult angle. I couldn't make out what she was typing, or who she was typing to, but I could see from the images that flashed up on her screen exactly what the subject matter was, and that made my stiff meat harder still.

Men were sending her grainy photographs of their cocks, and while they did that she was navigating through an array of folders and pulling up mobile phone pictures of her own hidden treasures. On one occasion I watched her spread her legs and put the mobile down there, before plugging the phone into her computer and uploading a beautiful picture of her fur lined pussy being invaded by a dainty finger, relaying it then on to some unknown lucky bastard over the broadband. She was very careful not to show her face on-line, but her tits and fanny were flaunted to all comers with wanton abandon. I longed for her MSN address as I watched her on those rare occasions when she was online and hadn't closed the blinds, my own hand working my hardness slowly as image after image of hard dicks and gaping pussies flashed up on her screen. Sometimes images of women with cocks in their mouths or men fucking away at their engorged, distended cunts made it up onto the monitor as anonymous wankers from all around the world traded dirty photographs with the object of my secret obsession, while I in turn wanked myself off into the microfiber cloths that I used to polish the lenses on my telescope.

All the while she sat there, leaning into the screen as she sent and received photographs, her hands working on her tits or moving purposefully between her thighs and out of sight to me. We wanked together, Becca and I, though she knew naught of me, remaining blissfully unaware of my hard, erect manhood being stroked in rigid salute of her as she laughed and sighed in a world of her own until my semen spurted into a cloth, often catching me by surprise as I watched her bare legs and feet propped up on the edge of her desk as she leaned back in her chair, the laptop showing a webcam of some stranger also wanking himself off as she chatted over MSN with him before the days of Skype made typing old hat.

How I longed to hear her voice whispering those fuck-me lines, encouraging me to pump my cock harder, to spurt my semen over her full teenaged tits or her open slit, wet and slippery from having just been fingered by red painted nails. I lay awake at night long after she had switched off and gone to sleep herself, replaying the images in my mind, my eyes closed as her husky, lust laden voice urged me to finger her, to eat her out, to ram my hard cock inside her, to flood her womb with my seed or spill it down her gulping throat. I showered every single morning, desperately trying to think of an angle that could get me closer to her as I readied for school, paying more attention to my appearance than I had ever done in my life, depleting Lynx shower gel bottles at an alarming rate and going through a tube of toothpaste a week.

Then one day in Math class when I was trying to conceal a raging hard-on beneath my desk, it suddenly came to me. This was the last lesson of the day, yet it was only lunch time. Normally I'd walk the four miles home instead of waiting for the bus, but most people that lived our way either spent the afternoon in the sixth form common room or in the library. So this time I stayed behind, leaving my bewildered friends to walk home without me, claiming that I was staying behind because I was having trouble with one of my subjects. I looked for Rebecca in the common room, found it deserted, then after lunch

One Silent Night: Part 3

Snowden Speaks — Mon, 02 Dec 2024 08:16:00 -0600

A Christmas Miracle brings them together.

by horny pixy. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

“I don’t know what to say,” Mia said, dazed. She sank down on the couch and picked the paper up. “I can’t believe you did this for me. What; how did you do this?”

“I phoned my old commander,” Carter said. “He knew how important it was to me, so he called a few of his connections. They got a warrant to search the farm and found illegal weapons that your stepfather had been hired to smuggle out of the country. It was enough for an arrest. They cited the source as an ‘anonymous tip’ and crumbled the whole organization in a few days.”

“I don’t know how to say thank you,” Mia said. “I mean; There are no words for this.”

“I wanted to go kill the bastard for what he did,” Carter said. “I wanted to rip his throat out with my bare hands. But calling in for back-up was the best way to deal with it.”

“I can’t believe it’s over,” Mia said. “Will they need me to testify against him?”

Carter hesitated. “They might ask you to,” he said. “It might extend their sentence. It will definitely add years to your stepfather’s. Raping, especially the raping of a minor, is a big deal. But you have to be sure you can deal with it. I won’t let you do it if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll think about it,” Mia said. “I don’t want to be haunted by it for the rest of my life. He stole everything from me, my mom, my childhood, my innocence. When he raped me; He was usually drunk when he came to my room, and there was never any; any foreplay, or kisses or anything. It always, always hurt. You’re the first man I ever kissed, and;” she swallowed, her face bright red. “It felt good. And I want to do it again.”

Carter sat down next to her she all but crawled onto his lap. He let his crutch fall on the ground and folded his arms around her. These past few weeks have been his idea of paradise. He loved taking care of her and Nikita, loved that they needed him. They didn’t seem to realize how much he needed them in return, but he was working on that.

They sat like that for a long time, not talking. He rubbed her back and wished the clothes between them would melt away. He loved her so much it overwhelmed him. He was pretty sure she was in love with him too, but he couldn’t be sure she was ready for anything more than friendship. Between her stepfather’s abuse and Nikita’s cancer, she had a lot to deal with. But he could, and would, be patient, until she learned to trust her heart and love him back.

They ate dinner by the lights of the Christmas tree and a few candles. It was snowing at last; a light dusting that promised a white Christmas in the morning. Nikita convinced them to exchange their gifts after dinner, rather than wait for morning. Mia and Carter were both inclined to give her whatever she wanted, so they agreed after a teasing argument.

Mia gave Nikita some new clothes and a few books she had bought with what was pretty much her last money. Carter gave her a silver charms bracelet with different charms and a little flower-shaped watch hanging from it. She exclaimed over her gifts, and Mia had to fight against the tears. Her sister was so much braver than she was, and it humbled her to see the young girl fight for every single day. She could see the fear in Nikita’s eyes every time she went to bed, and knew her sister was afraid that she would not wake up again. But not once has Mia heard her say anything about her coming death. They all avoided the subject, as if talking about it would make it more real.

“I have a gift for you too,” Mia said shyly to Carter. “It’s not much, but I thought you might like it. I made it,” she added when she handed him the small packet that she’d hidden under the tree. He gave her a brilliant smile and seemed genuinely pleased when he opened it to find the scarf she’d knitted in secret in her and Nikita’s bedroom. She wasn't much of a knitter, but her mother had taught her when she was young and she had bought the wool and needles when she went shopping for Nikita’s present. It was pretty lopsided and uneven, but he wound it around his neck anyway. Mia knew he would wear it to please her, and she gave him a shy smile.

“Don’t you have something for Mia?” Nikita asked with the innocence of a child.

Mia blushed. “He already gave me something,” she said. He had given her so much more than she’d ever expected or hoped for. She wondered if he had any idea how much it all meant to her, the way he took care of her sister, the fact that he was going to so much trouble to make it a lovely Christmas, with the tree and the gifts and the laughter. He had given her the freedom she has never had before.

He had given her a reason to go on living after Nikita passed away, because she loved him.

Oh, but she loved him so much.

“I do have a gift for you,” Carter said. “Wait here. I’ll be right back. It is in my room.”

“’But you didn’t have to;” she protested, but he just grinned and grabbed his crutch, limping to his bedroom. He came back a few seconds later, his hand behind his back.

“Close your eyes,” he said and she obeyed him dutifully. She sensed him coming closer and then there was something on her lap; something soft and furry and light.

She opened her eyes and blinked. “Oh,’ she breathed. It was a little kitten, grey and playful and utterly sweet. Nikita squealed in delight from her position next to Mia.

“She needs a home,” Carter said. “And a name. I was thinking Faith or Hope of Love, but you can pick something else.”

“I like Hope,” Mia said and nuzzled the soft bundle in her neck. She handed her to Nikita and got up to go hug Carter, but he tripped her with a clever maneuver of his crutch and she fell against him, where he grabbed her and kissed her soundly before letting her go.

She blushed a little as she returned to the couch, but there was a warm spot inside her that somehow lighted up all the dark spaces she’s ever known.

“Can we take her with us to go light the sparklers?” Nikita asked.

“I can’t see why not,” Carter said. “Just keep her inside the blanket with you.”

He got the sparklers and a box of matches and they all went out on the balcony. Mia helped Nikita in the chair, first dusting off the snow that had covered it with her hands. The direction of the wind and the building at their backs was in their favor, and though it was cold, they managed to light the sparklers with little trouble.

There was such magic in the moment, Nikita was laughing and drawing pictures in the air. There was a joy on her face that Mia had never seen before, and despite the cold, she looked so healthy, sitting there, covered in a blanket and with a little grey kitten poking its nose out from under the blanket. Mia turned to Carter and caught her breath. He looked magnificent, standing there with his feet planted firmly on the slippery floor, wearing a warm jacket and a poorly-knitted scarf, grinning at her while he twirled his sparkler like a martial-arts weapon. She looked him in the eye and, as clearly as she could, wrote ‘I love you’ in the air with her sparkler.

The golden light of their sparklers lit up the balcony, and the hiss and sputter and faint smell of lingering sulphur was a symphony for the senses. Carter reached for her, the light in his eyes burning brighter than any sparkler, and it was the most natural thing to step into his embrace.

They lit all the sparklers in the box, and when it was over, Nikita declared that she was ready for bed, as long as Hope could sleep with her. Since Mia was determined to spend the night with Carter, she agreed readily.

“Leave the cleaning up,” Carter said when she started picking up plates and wrapping paper. “We’ll do it in the morning.”

“Are you sure?” Mia asked, suddenly shy and hesitant. Carter held out his hand.
“Come with me,” he said. “Please, Mia. Come to bed with me.”

She looked at his face, and his eyes were still burning with that golden light.

“Yes,” she said and put the dishes in her hands on a little table. “I would love to.”

Carter’s heart seemed to be working overtime again as he led Mia into his room. He held her hand in his, and he was overly aware of how much smaller she was than him. Her skin was still slightly cold after being outside, and he threaded his fingers through hers in an intimidate gesture as he closed the door behind them and turned the lock, just in case.

He switched off the bright overhead light, so that the room was lit only by the softer glow of the bedside lamp. He sensed Mia’s nerves and wondered how he could make it easier for her when he put the crutch against the wall.

“Kiss me,” she said as if she could read his thoughts. He cupped her face in both hands and stroked her cheeks for a second, lingering over the softness of her skin. He looked into her eyes and then leaned his forehead against hers for a second, sharing the moment with her.

“I love you,” he said. “I’ve loved you for about two years.”

“But we only met a few weeks ago,” she said, clearly confused.

“I have a confession to make,” he said, one hand sliding to the back of her neck and down, tracing her spine to her lower back. “I watched you walk pass my house every night. I felt like I knew you after a while. I fell in love with you long before we met.”

“I wish I had known,” she whispered. “Carter, I love you from the bottom of my heart. You’ve given me so much.”

“You’ve given me hope,” he said. “And faith. And love. Will you give me yourself, tonight?”

“Oh, please, yes,” she said, and then he kissed her. Though he was gentle, his mouth was insistent, and she followed his lead, opening her lips when his tongue probed at her. He swept it inside, tasted her, teased her, caressed her. She put her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to get closer to him as they angled their heads to deepen the kiss. He could taste her breath in his mouth when she touched her tongue to his. She still tasted like the peppermint chocolates they’d eaten after dinner in lieu of dessert, and he made a little sound of approval.

He walked her backwards until her legs hit the bed and pressed his face into her neck. He could feel her skin breaking out in Goosebumps when she turned her neck to give him better access. He kissed her almost mindlessly; open-mouthed kisses that dragged over her while his tongue drew little patterns on her skin. He kissed his way slowly up to her earlobe. She gave a little gasp when he took it between his teeth and pulled it lightly. He let it go to flick it with his tongue, taking a break to lick at the sensitive little spot just under her ear, tormenting her.

She slid her hands into his hair and drew his mouth back to hers. They were both out of breath by the time he let go of her lips. He pulled at the zipper on her jacket and as soon as it was open, slid his hands under it to cup her breasts through her sweater. She pressed against him slightly, letting him know it was good. He pushed the jacket off her shoulders and down her arms. It fell on the floor, where it lay forgotten and ignored. Carter pulled her plump lower lip into his mouth for another burning kiss while he got his hands under her sweater and the white tank top she was still wearing. He dragged it up her body, his hands stroking her in a firm movement. She moaned a little and helped him by lifting her arms so he could pull it off.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered against her throat. Her bruises had faded to that sickly yellow-green color, but they didn’t make her any less lovely. His hands rubbed her skin possessively while she reached behind her to undo her bra. It joined the scattering of clothes on the floor. Carter’s hands cupped her breasts again, and he moaned when he felt the warmth and softness of her skin. He squeezed them lightly and had the satisfaction of feeling her nipples pebble against his palm. He took his time, pleasuring both of them by rolling the hard little nubs between his fingers, rubbing, pinching, pulling, flicking, until she clutched his shoulders and kissed him pleadingly.

He pushed her lightly and she obeyed his touch, lying back on the bed. He leaned over her, bracing his weight on his arms while he kissed her. He trailed his mouth down and she shifted uncomfortably when his mouth found one breast. He licked a little circle around the areola, taking his time to enjoy the puckered texture of her skin on the tip of his tongue. He laved the little ridges generously, eliciting a quickening in her breath. Her nipple was a hard little nub and he tugged at it, using only his teeth and lips, until she arched into his mouth. He licked over it; a broad, flat stroke of his tongue that made her twist her torso.
She wound her fingers through his hair, holding his face against her when he finally relented and sucked her into his mouth. They moaned together, a perfect duet of passion and desire as he suckled at her, alternating between long, hard tugs and teasing little sips, taking the occasional nibble just to delight her.

He kept her other nipple happy by playing with it with his fingers, echoing the movements his mouth made, but he was all about equality, so he switched and repeated the whole process. By the time he was done with her breasts, for the moment, her nipples were a deep rosy pink that made him want to start all over. They glistened from his saliva and he took a primitive male pleasure from the fact that he had been the one to get them in that state of arousal.

He shifted her on the bed with ease, so that her head was on his pillow and she was lying down exactly on the same spot he slept every night before stretching out next to her and pulling her into his arms for another soul-deep kiss.

She sighed and moaned and turned on her side to press closer against him. He held her body against him, his hands exploring the ridges of her spine and the feminine softness of her skin, the scent of her arousal permeating the air in the room. He rolled her on her back, careful not to crowd her.

Her hands were pulling at his jacket, trying to get it off him. He reared up and pulled it over his head, taking the long-sleeved shirt and his new scarf with it in one movement before going back to her addictive kisses and eager lips. He gave a soft moan when he felt her breasts press against his chest. They were skin to skin, and he reveled in the contrast between their bodies. He was all hard muscles and rough skin, and she was; she was perfect. Soft and smooth and female and Mia and perfect.

The intensity of their lovemaking spiraled when he undid the fastening of her jeans and pulled them off her legs. She was wearing only a pair of socks he got rid of very quickly, and lacy panties he knew she had bought especially for him with money she really couldn’t afford to spend on fancy underwear. He made sure to show his appreciation by not ripping them off like he wanted to.

Carter propped himself up next to her on one arm. His other hand was tracing lazy circles on her belly, scraping her with his short nails to tease her. He focused on the area between her hipbones, and she responded with the expected arching of her hips and opening of her legs when the nerve-ends there sent tingles up her spine and to her breasts and the inside of her thighs.

He skimmed his finger over the edge of her panties, tracing the small, sexy little bow at the top. He followed the pattern of the lace and satin with one finger, noticing that she was very neatly trimmed. He slipped his finger under the lace and pulled it down very slowly, baring her mound with the small little triangle of curls for his viewing pleasure. He tested the soft, plump, pillowy area and just for a second, put his mouth on her. She gasped in surprise, her hips rising off the bed.

He rubbed her hip on the side furthest away from him and stroked his hand around and under her thigh. He moved his body in between her legs and hoisted her knees over his shoulders, stroking her thighs to soothe her when she made an agitated sound. She settled down and he pressed his mouth against the soft skin of her inner thigh, stroking her with his tongue and taking the occasional, small nip just to tease. He could smell her excitement much clearer in this position, and it made the bulge in his pants an almost painful experience when he hardened even more.

He pressed his lips against the warm, damp crotch of the panties and she gasped again. He had no trouble finding her clit with his tongue and he rubbed against it with small, hard, circular movements. Her hips started to strain against his hold, and he shifted his arms to get a better grip for the bucking he knew would come soon enough. Her hands pushed at her panties; clearly, she wanted them off.

And Carter was nothing if not willing. He slid three fingers under the satin crotch through the leg opening and felt the wetness of her against the back of his fingers before he pulled the panties off. He had to relinquish his position between her thighs and made use of the opportunity to peel his

One Silent Night: Part 2

Snowden Speaks — Sun, 01 Dec 2024 08:14:00 -0600

A Christmas Miracle brings them together.

by horny pixy. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

“Come home with me tonight,” he murmured. “Or let me stay here. I’ll sleep on the floor, or the chair. Just; Just don’t ask me to leave you for the wolves. Because I can’t do that.”

She pulled away. “I don’t expect you to take care of me,” she said. “I can’t ask it from you.”

His face blanched. “Is it because of my leg?” he asked. “I know I’m not; what I used to be, but I assure you, I’m still able to protect you from;”

“It’s not your leg,” she said and put a hand over his heart. “I can’t risk getting you involved in the cluster-fuck that is my life at this stage.”

“I’m offering you one evening’s respite, Mia,” he said. “That’s it. I’m not asking you to move in with me forever.”

“You don’t even know me,” she whispered, touched. “Why would you want to do this for me?”

He gave a small, crooked smile. “How can I not?” he asked simply. “Helping you; it feels like breathing. I can’t not do it.”

Carter waited in the living room with two cups of coffee while Mia helped Nikita settle in the spare room they would be sharing while they were there. He had turned the heat up and the whole apartment was slowly getting warmer. Mia sat down on the couch across from him and took the cup he offered her.

“Why don’t you tell me where it hurts?” he said, leaning back and crossing his ankles, the perfect model of relaxation. “And please don’t tell me it’s just that one place on your side. I’ve been watching you all evening, and you’re in pain.”

“All right, yes, but I’m fine. It’s just some bruises.”

“Show me,” he said. “I’m a medic, remember?”

Mia battled with her will for a moment before she stood up and started unbuttoning her coat with quick, business-like movements. Carter had something good and pure about him; something sweet and somehow innocent. It went deeper than just offering his home to two strangers. He wouldn’t hurt her or her sister in any way. The goodness of him; It went all the way to his soul.

Oh, did she even have a soul anymore?

The thought made something fog over in her mind and her hands started to shake when she took the coat off and laid it over the back of the couch. Carter didn’t move from his position as he watched her fingers curl over the bottom hem of her simple brown sweater. She did not, could not, look at his face while she pulled it up and over her head, wincing when the movement pulled at sore muscles and bruised flesh.

Carter’s mouth was so dry he almost expected a sandstorm to originate under his tongue. Watching Mia as she took off her clothes was an exercise in self-control, though there was nothing sexual about the way she undressed. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere, her stare blank and empty, as she untucked the second sweater from her pants and pulled it up. He watched the way she held her arms close to her body, trying to minimalize the pain, and felt like the worst kind of man for wanting her so much when she was suffering.

She was wearing only a cream-colored, long-sleeved button-down blouse, but her fingers were trembling so badly she couldn’t get the buttons through the holes. He watched her struggle with the bottom button for a while before he couldn’t take another second of the slow torture.

“Let me help you,” he said, keeping his voice as gentle as he could. She nodded and let her arms fall to her sides. Carter put his cup down and stood up slowly, hoping that there was no visible evidence of the stirring in his lap. He gave a single step, and then he was in front of her. He searched her eyes, but there was no sign of fear or distrust in them. He looked down at his hands as he found the first button at the bottom. They felt unnaturally small under his big, suddenly-clumsy fingers. He tried to keep his breathing even as he managed to slip it through the little hole. His fingertips felt the coarse, starched material of her shirt as they stroked upwards to the next button. He undid it with an equal amount of fumbling, trying to remember that this was not a prelude to the horizontal tango.

He was halfway with the buttons when it happened. His finger slid under the material of her shirt and his knuckles skimmed over her skin. They both hissed in surprise and he looked up at her face for the first time since he’d begun the unbuttoning. Her eyes were wide and dark, her lashes almost impossible long, casting little half-moon shadows over her cheeks. Her face was flushed a delicious shade of desire, her mouth slightly open. He watched the shimmering trail when she extended the tip of her tongue and wetted her lips unconsciously.

She wanted him.

Carter swallowed and forced himself to look away from her face. He tried to focus on the buttons, but saw only the little nubs of her hardened nipples swelling under her clothes.

Oh, dear;

He opened another button and realized that he had reached the one right under her breast. He swallowed convulsively and undid it. He felt her breasts pressing against the back of his hands. The material of her shirt strained very lightly against the swell of her breasts, and he had to pull the edges of the material closer to the middle to undo the button. It popped open, and then there was just one left. His fingers were trembling almost as much as hers had done, but somehow he got it through the little hole.

He pushed the edges of the shirt away, to the side, and braced himself for the sight of her body.

And then all thoughts of desire fled from his mind in an instant.

Bruises bloomed over her skin like an obscene painting of a tortured flower. Her torso was covered with them, and he could see the darker spots where they overlapped. Down her side was a trail of blue and black stains where she had been hit, repeatedly, by the same blunt object. Her lower abdomen looked better, but he was willing to bet there were a few cracked ribs under the welts that covered her skin.

“Mia,” he breathed, horrified. He sank down, mindless of his knee, and pressed his fingertips against the black bump on her hip. He tried to stay objective, willed his training to kick in, and waited for his heartbeat to calm down. He switched into medic mode, pressing against every bruise and testing her ribcage with care. She stood as still as a mouse, watching his movements with those big, sad eyes of hers. He asked her questions, peeled the shirt over her shoulders and off her arms. Her back looked even worse, if that was possible. It was a portrait, done in shades of agony.

But there was no sign of any broken bones, or ruptured organs. Whoever had done this had known exactly how much pressure and force to use, and had been careful to inflict only pain. There would be no lasting damage once the bruises faded.

Or not to her body, in any case.

“Mia,” he said hoarsely. “This was a punishment beating, wasn't it?”

She nodded.

“What are you involved in?” he asked, touching an unmarked spot under her bellybutton with one finger, as if he wanted to reassure them both that her body would heal.

“I can’t tell you,” she whispered.

“Is it drugs?” he asked, brusquely. There were no needle marks on her arms, and though she was too thin, her skin wasn't the sallow color of a user.

“Nothing like that,” she said, and for a moment she rested her hand on his head, her fingers stroking his hair like a beloved pet. “It’s just; an issue from my past. But I’m handling it. I’ve been handling it for years. It’s under control.”

He looked up at her, at the tired defiance in her shoulders. “Who are you trying to convince?” he asked and stood up. “Come on, I’ll put some ice on the worst bruises and give you some pain medication. You should actually see a doctor.”

She lay down on the couch on her stomach, her arms forming a little nest for her face. “No doctor,” she said firmly, as he had known she would.

Mia swallowed the two tablets he gave her and winced when he put the frozen gel packs on her back. Her muscles seemed to tighten up in response. Carter murmured calming words and soft encouragements while he moved the ice packs around slowly. He was sitting on the couch next to her, and she shifted closer to the back to make a little more room for him. His hip pressed against hers and he delighted in the intimacy of it.

He admired the curve of her back, his gaze starting at the low-rise jeans she was wearing and ending at the nape of her neck, where little curls and wisps of baby-fine new hair covered her porcelain skin. His eyes were drawn again and again to the little dimple just above the hem of her jeans. One way or another, he was going to have his mouth on that little dip in her skin. When she was better. When she was better, and when she trusted him, he was going to make such sweet love to her that she’ll realize she can’t live without him.

“Turn around,” he said after a while, and moved so that she could do that.

“This will be even worse than your back,” he warned. “Ideally, you should take a cold bath.”

“Hell, no,” she said and jerked when the ice pack touched her skin. “Ouch,” she said in a small voice.

“Sorry, baby,” Carter soothed and put the second pack on the other side. “Just breath, it will settle down in a second.”

She put one arm over her eyes, and Carter couldn’t, for the very life of him, stop staring at her boobs. They were on the small side from being so underweight, but they were hers, and therefor they were perfect. The bra she had on had been designed for comfort and support, not seduction, but damn, if he wasn't feeling seduced anyway. Her skin broke out in goose flesh and like magnets, his eyes found her nipples. He watched them grow harder and wondered if she was aware of it, since she didn’t make a move to cover them. He wanted to feel them under his fingers, roll each between a thumb and middle finger, wanted to put his mouth on her and taste the unique flavor of her skin.

Mia took her arm away from her face and looked at him. “Carter, can I; Can I ask you another favor?” she asked, her voice hesitant. As if there was anything he wouldn’t do for her.

“Of course,” he said immediately.

“I’m afraid; I don’t know how easy I’ll sleep. I don’t want to bother Nikita. She needs the rest so much. Can I; Can I sleep with you tonight? In your bed?”

For a moment, all the wires in his brain seemed to fuse at the same time. He had never, not even once, allowed himself to hope for this. He imagined, for a second, how it would feel to go to sleep and wake up with her next to him. He would be a bastard and wait until she was asleep and then pull her into his arms, very careful not to wake her.

She seemed to misread his silence.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” she said quickly. “I’ll just sleep here on the couch. This is fine. I just;”

“Mia,” he said, putting a finger on her lips to stop her. “I would love it if you sleep in my bed tonight. I’m not going to let you sleep on the couch. If you’re uncomfortable with me, I’ll sleep on the couch. But I would never let a guest do that. Especially not an injured one.”

She closed her eyes, as if in relief. “I just can’t stand the thought of sleeping on my own tonight,” she said in a small voice. “I’m always alone, always the one who needs to take responsibility. I’m so tired. I’m just so tired of being alone, Carter;”

He wasn't sure how it happened, or who made the first move. Either he had bent down, or she had reached up and pulled him down, but the next moment he was bending his upper body over hers, his one hand holding onto the back of the couch to avoid pressing against her injured body. Her one hand cupped itself around his neck, holding his face in place as they kissed.

The first touch of her lips were like a spring rain in the middle of the desert. Soft and honey-sweet, hesitant and unsure. He could taste her awkward inexperience in her fumbled movements, but it did not bother him in the slightest. He rubbed his lips against her, a back and forth movement to soothe and excite. Her breathing was loud, but he could still hear the frantic beating of his own heart over it.

He had been hoping for and dreaming about this for so long that he wanted to savor every moment in case he woke up and found it had been nothing more than a figment of his subconscious.

He pressed his lips against the corner of her lips and lingered there for a few seconds before trailing over her mouth to the other side. He touched the tip of his tongue to the little dimple there, and she turned her head towards him, anxious for more. He pulled away and comforted them both by rubbing his check against hers. His day-old beard rasped lightly against his skin and he loved the feeling of it. He held his face there, breathing in the fragrance of her skin and her hair, before touching his lips against hers in a chaste kiss. She murmured something and tilted her head to the side again. He took the hint and gave her a single soft, sipping kiss. He slipped his tongue over the seam of her lips once, twice, and then she opened them for him. He didn’t stick his tongue inside her mouth, instead teasing her further by taking her bottom lip between his and pulling it lightly. He sucked it into his mouth and slid his tongue over the smooth skin on the inside as he let it go.

She gave a soft moan and he awarded her with another lingering kiss. He tugged at her bottom lip again, this time using his teeth. Her fingers tightened around his neck, sliding up and into his hair. He changed the angle of his head and licked his way slowly into her mouth, swallowing her soft gasp when his tongue found hers. He stroked it once, and then used the tip of his tongue to explore her mouth. He slid his tongue out and tested her reaction. She moaned her dissent and he slipped it back in. She was ready for him this time, touching him back hesitantly. He advanced and retreated a few times, teasing her with an erotic display of what he wanted to do with her body. She whimpered and he could taste her urgency, so he deepened the kiss. He tried coaxing her tongue out of her mouth, but she was not experienced enough to know what he wanted.

“Give me your tongue,” he whispered against her lips. She didn’t respond immediately and he pressed his mouth against her ear.
“Your tongue,” he said again, feeling the shiver that shuddered through her body when his breath tickled her. “Put it in my mouth.”

He licked a little trail back to her mouth and kissed her again, waiting patiently. After a few moments, he felt her warm, soft tongue against his lips. He surprised and shocked her by sucking it into his mouth with unexpected urgency. He kept it there, suckling rhythmically for a while. Her moan was one of pure need, a sentiment that echoed in the blood coursing through his body, fueling his desire for her.

They made out like teenagers in the backseat of a car for a while, and as her confidence grew, so did her proficiency. He taught her what he liked, and showed her things he thought she might like. He forgot about everything, the screaming pain in his knee from the twisted position it was in, her sister in the spare room, the fact that it had finally started snowing.

This was magic, he thought as she did something with her tongue that made him moan. His eyes were closed, but he opened them because he wanted to see her face.

She looked spectacular. Her hair was disheveled and her face flushed. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, and she had a slightly red mark of beard burn on the side of her neck where he’d nuzzled her.

“Look at me,” he said and she opened her eyes with obvious reluctance. Her lips were parted, hoping for more kisses. He almost obliged, but they had the whole night, or what was left of it in any case. She struggled to focus on him and he couldn’t prevent the pure male smile of satisfaction. Her pupils were dilated by desire, her gaze glassy and impatient and dazed. He kept his eyes on hers when he cupped her ribs, ready for her to groan or gasp.

She did gasp, but because he was staring into her eyes at that second, not even he could mistake it for a sound of passion. Her eyes filled with pain and for the first time since his lips touched hers, he remembered about her injuries.

“Shit!” he said, pushing himself away from her and staring at her with horror. “Mia, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I forgot about your bruises. I lost my head completely. I’m really sorry. Are you all right? How badly did I hurt you? Let me get new ice packs, I’ll be right back;”

“Carter,” Mia said. “Stop. You didn’t hurt me, and please don’t get me another ice pack. I’m begging you. It’s too cold.”

“I’m so sorry, Mia,” Carter said. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. Please forgive me, I; It won’t happen again. You’re just so lovely, and;”

“Its fine,” she said, slowly pushing herself upright, wincing slightly. “Look, it happened, and I can; I can understand if you don’t want to do it again,

One Silent Night: Part 1

Snowden Speaks — Sat, 30 Nov 2024 08:13:00 -0600

A Christmas Miracle brings them together.

by horny pixy. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

Carter has been in love with Mia for years, but it takes a Christmas miracle to throw them together.

Carter stood by his window, one eye on the watch on his wrist. It was just after eleven, that magical hour when most of the traffic died down and the neighborhood in the old downtown area settled in for the night, the quiet creeping through the air with the mist from the small stream to the west of his apartment. Across the road he could see some early Christmas decorations, but he knew that the real lighting up would start in about two weeks.

She would be along soon.

He shifted the threadbare curtain a little to the side and tried to peer down the street, attempting to see her approach sooner, but he knew she would appear around the corner as always, and that he would have no chance to look at her neat little form until she does. He looked at his watch. Another minute had passed.

She would be along soon.

He fretted restlessly when the minutes continued to trickle away, like the incessant dripping of droplets in the back of his mind; a tap that didn’t quite close all the way.

She would be along soon.

And then, finally, she was there. His hands tightened around the folds of the curtain as he watched her round the corner, his very being tightening up in anticipation as his eyes followed her hungrily. She was wearing her dark, mid-thigh-length coat, and he could see her shapely leg taking carefully measured steps.

Her head was bent down, as always, obscuring her features, and he wondered once again what he would see if she looked up. He knew a little about her, her skin was milky pale in comparison to her dark coat. Her hair was also dark, cut in a straight, no-frills bob that reached her chin and was usually tucked away behind her ear. Her arms were always folded across her chest, as if she was trying to get away from her surroundings by climbing into herself. She was a picture of despondency and hopelessness as she walked down the pavement, the mist from the river swirling around her legs with ghostlike tendrils.

She was breaking his heart.

He followed her with his eyes, knowing her pattern well. Under the next streetlamp she would stop, bend over to adjust her shoe in the weak glow, and then continue around the corner to wherever she was going. And he would have to wait until tomorrow to see her again. What did it say about him, about how low he’d sunk, that these two minutes of watching an unknown girl walk down the street was the culmination of all his hopes and dreams? That his every day was spent in a state of endless waiting, waiting? He was forever waiting for something, for the night to be over so he can get up, for the shops to open so he can struggle down the stairs with his bad knee screaming in protest to buy coffee and a microwave dinner. For the afternoon to pass so he could sit on the small little balcony his apartment was outfitted with and watch the sun set over the dingy part of the city horizon he was privy to.

He watched her as she stopped on cue, her fingers busily tweaking at the straps of her shoes. More than anything, he was always, always waiting for her.
She got up after a few seconds and his eyes followed her as she proceeded down the street, her pace a little faster now, as if she was suddenly aware of the hour and the fact that she was a pretty girl, walking alone. When he could no longer see her, he pulled the curtains in place and turned around, facing the dingy apartment he owned.

And deep down, he knew, the longest wait of all was the countdown of years that would mark the end of his miserable existence.

The Waitress

“What can I get for you?” Mia asked the two men who were sitting in a booth in the back. They were both dressed in similar casual attire, jeans, dark jackets, sneakers, but she knew without asking that they were cops. They had that shrewd look in their eyes, the restless air of inquisitive minds.

Her shoulders tingled and she forced herself not to twitch nervously. They were just out for a meal, maybe discussing a breakthrough or a dead-end in a recent case. Nothing to worry about. Cops and officers came in here all the time for coffee and doughnuts and meals.

They are not looking for you. They are not looking for you. They are not looking for you.

She chanted her mantra repeatedly in her mind as her fingers scribbled down their order. It was never wise to allow cops, or anybody else, for that matter, to sense your fear. It gave them reason to start questioning things she preferred to remain unquestioned, what’s your name? Where are you from?

Her feet were killing her. Her swollen ankle was throbbing from her earlier slip on a wet floor, and she wanted nothing more than for the day to end so she could go home to Nikita. Her back was no longer aching as much as burning from carrying the heavy trays back and forth, the pain a constant companion in her lower back. She shot a quick glance at the clock on the wall behind the counter as she unloaded dirty dishes in the sink and swiped her tray down where a cup had left a ring. It was a few minutes to ten, closing time was ten thirty, so she had a while to go yet. Angelo had gotten one of the girls to wrap threadbare tinsel around the clock and cash register. Despite the fact that it was clearly older than the shop, it was still ugly and gaudy, a glittery, cheap string of false cheer that did nothing but highlight the shop’s worn-down visage.

She ended her shift at ten thirty with an argument with Angelo, the owner and manager, who wanted her to stay for ‘stock taking’, his term for sexually harassing the girls when there was nobody around to help them. She refused and, as a result, lost her job.

Her heart sank at the idea of finding something new, again. How much longer? she wondered as she packed the things from her locker, over into her bag. How much longer was she going to struggle through life like this? Every day was a fight to survive. There were bills to be paid, a house to clean, a little sister to care for. Somebody needed to put food on the table, needed to make sure the police didn’t discover them and send them back to;

Not going to happen, she thought. No matter what happened, they were never going back to that dark, dark place they’d escaped from six years ago. She was twenty-three now, old enough by law to become her sister’s legal guardian, if they needed to take a legal route for any reason. She could only hope that would never happen. If there was ever any questions, any queries, she would pack up their things and they would leave. Again. They’d done it before, when it seemed necessary, it was so easy to disappear into the night, after all.

She clutched the black carry-all that held an extra shirt, some clean socks, a comb and a few tampons in case she ever needed them unexpectedly. The cheap second-hand cell phone was stashed in the pocket of her coat, where she could feel it vibrate if Nikita phoned her.

She was in a bigger hurry than usual, walking as fast as she could on her sore ankle, and looking around her edgily. The shadows seemed denser, the streetlights dimmer, the air quieter.

She hated this part of the city during the night. It was dark and it smelled like old trash and the murky, filthy water of the little stream on the other side of the dilapidated railing.

She was being stupid, Mia decided. She has been walking this route every night for the past three years, and nothing has ever happened to her before.

She swallowed her fear and walked out from under the tree. The rest had not done her ankle good. It was cooling down and stiffening up and she winced each time she stepped on it. She limped around the corner that would take her down the semi-nice street with the old buildings. Most of them had been townhouses in their hey-days, but they had fallen into slight disrepair since. She imagined living in one of them. It would be warm, and the roof wouldn’t leak in eleven places every time it rained. In the winter, she would light a fire in the living room, and she and Nikita would sit in front of it.

And maybe the sky would rain money and Unicorns soon.

Carter’s 3-Year Dilemma

Carter managed to convince himself not to watch for her again. How much longer was he going to wait for a miracle that was not going to happen? His dark-haired girl was never going to do anything else except walk past his building. He’d considered going downstairs at eleven more times than he could count, but three guesses as to how she would react to a man waiting to talk to her at that time of night. He had tried to follow her a few times, but his knee was so bad that he couldn’t keep up, not without being seen. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her into taking a different route. She was his fantasy, his perfect vision of innocence and beauty and hope. No matter how the weather looked, whether it was a balmy spring evening, or an icy cold snowing one, she walked down his street every single night. He’d been watching her for close to three years now, and he knew that she was off one Sunday a month, always the last one.

He wished, for the hundredth time, that he knew more about her. He wanted to know where she worked, wanted to know her name. Was she married, maybe, with a kid?

It was a moot point, in any case. Even if she wasn’t married, she wouldn’t waste her time on somebody like him, jobless and injured beyond repair, with nothing to give her but his name and an old apartment that used to belong to his grandmother.

He forced himself to stay seated as the clock ticked closer to eleven. It was ridiculous, this fascination of his with a girl he’s never even met. He spent his time building fantasies around her in which she needed his help, and in his dream world, his knee was still in its pre-explosion condition. He was still fit and strong, a Navy Seal who could do anything he set his mind to.

Forcing himself to be realistic, he took a swallow from the beer he rarely indulged in. She was probably married, or living with somebody. Probably had a kid, and took a night job so that she could spend time with the little one during the day. She was probably perfectly happy with her life, and this desire to rescue her was a left-over emotion from his SEAL days where being a hero was part of the job description.
He missed his team.

And there it was, the crux of the matter. He missed his team, his friends, almost more than he missed the mobility that had been stolen from him in that awful explosion four years ago. So far, he’d beaten the odds, but for the past couple years, he hadn’t made any progress beyond walking with the help of a crutch. After his time in the hospital and physiotherapy rehab center ran out, he moved back to the city where he had grown up. It was as far away from the base as he could find, and he had needed the distance at the time, not to mention the rent-free apartment his grandmother had lived in until she passed away.

But now, after months of seclusion, the truth was finally sinking in. He was never going to be able to run through jungles and over desert dunes again. His days of scaling mountains and hiding out yards away from the enemy camps were over. No matter how hard he worked, his leg was never going to be up to it again. He was going to have to consider those options the psychologist had tried to talk to him about.

His mouth thinned. Private security: where SEAL careers go to die.

He managed to avoid the window until just after eleven, when he couldn’t take it anymore and he stood up, cursing himself for his weakness.

A few minutes later, the girl came around the corner. Carter felt the familiar constriction of his heart as the streetlight casted a dull glow around her dark hair. She was limping tonight, favoring her right leg, and carrying a black bag in one hand. He frowned, watching her progress with concern. She was definitely stepping gingerly, and she was moving much slower than usual. So much so that he would probably be able to keep up with her if he followed her.
Carter made the decision in less than a second. Grabbing his crutch and a jacket, he left his apartment.

On the street

It happened in the darkness under the overhanging branches of a gnarled old tree, where the searching fingers of light could not reach. The gap in the pavement where two slabs of concrete had pulled away from each other snagged at the sneaker on her injured foot and she pitched forward with a sharp cry of pain. She landed awkwardly on all fours, and the sting of scraped palms joined the pain in her foot. She gave a tearless sob and uttered a few choice swearwords. She must look a sight indeed, down on all fours with one leg elevated in the air behind her at an awkward and unattractive angle.

“Are you all right?”

The voice behind her came from absolutely nowhere. Mia swung around as much as was possible for a human in the dog-near-a-fire-hydrant-position and ended up landing on her ass. She scrambled back and saw the man limping closer. From her position on the ground, it seemed as if he was a giant, rising out from the mist, leaning heavily on a crutch and yet managing to walk without making a sound.

“I don’t have a lot of money on me,” she said, holding her black carry-all up like an offering. “But take what I have. Just please don’t hurt me.” Panic tightened her voice.

“I don’t want you money,” he said, stopping at a safe distance from her and holding out his hands to show he was unarmed. “And I’m not going to hurt you.”

His voice was deep and soothing, somehow managing to calm her nerves.

“Let me help you up,” the stranger continued. He came closer and held his hand out. She hesitated a few seconds before letting him haul her up. She dusted her palms on her jacket, felt the sting of asphalt cutting into her skin like pieces of brittle glass. The enormous man held onto her elbow as she balanced on one leg.

“Thanks,” she said stiffly. “I hurt my ankle earlier tonight and I tripped on the pavement. I’m fine now, thank you.”

He didn’t reply and for the

Desiree’s Senior Year: Part 2

Snowden Speaks — Fri, 29 Nov 2024 07:59:00 -0600

Desiree at the River.

By outdoorhorny. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

In May of my senior year in high school, summer came early. It was in the high 80's every afternoon, and we were sweltering in the ancient high school as the air conditioner struggled to keep up. Desiree and I sweated through morning classes and afternoon study halls, longing to be out of there, somewhere cooler and more private. We were both 18, and the restrictions of school were almost over. That made them even harder to bear!

It was one of our teachers who provided the solution; I thank her silently to this day! She suggested that we get together with students from another study hall to work on our Senior Projects. The next day, the four of us told our respective teachers that we were going to go to the other room to work with our partners. In reality, we slipped out through the Tech Ed classroom and went to our cars. Minutes later, we were whipping down the back roads away from school.

I have no idea where the other two went. They weren't a couple, so chances are they simply went home. Desiree had other ideas. Her little Honda Civic zoomed along and ended up on Rte. 6 in the next town. She pulled into a little IGA grocery store that backed up on sparse pine woods. I asked her what she was after, but she smiled and said, "You'll see!"

Intrigued, I followed her inside. She went right to the center aisles where the seasonal goods were. My eyebrows went up when she brought two cheap beach towels. She did not explain. I carried them while she grabbed snacks and drinks and headed for the checkout. She paid quickly, and when we left the store, she walked right past her car. I followed, very puzzled, as she went around the corner. I knew she would tell me when she felt like it, so I carried the bags and watched her ass as it twitched inside her tunic. When she passed the dumpster and entered the shady pine forest, she looked over her shoulder and smiled sexily. I grinned back, knowing she was up to something good.

The trail twisted and turned for a hundred yards, then it ended abruptly at a knob of rock that stuck out into a shallow, broad river. I stopped and looked around amazed. I could see a quarter-mile in each direction, and there was nothing in sight. The water slipped over flat smooth rocks, occasionally interrupted by a snagged branch or a small boulder jutting up from the surface. The air smelled of pine, the sunlight was warm and tinged with green as it filtered through the high branches, and besides bird song, the only sound was the gentle hum of the distant road. It was spectacular; a tranquil oasis barely off a road I had driven countless times.

"Des; this is beautiful! How did you find it?"

"My uncle owns all this; he used to own the IGA before he retired."

"Does anyone come here?"

"Nope. Didn't you see all the "No Trespassing" signs and the rocks across the trail? That keeps people out unless they're family."

"It's perfect!" I exclaimed happily.

"It's ours," she replied simply. "C'mon, let's get cool first and have a snack!"

Kicking off her sandals, she sat down on a low rock with her feet in the water. I brought the snack bag close, tugged off my sneakers and socks, and joined her. The water was still cold, but not as biting as the river we tried back in March. With the sun warm on our shoulders, we munched on chips and split a soda, laying the second bottle in a shallow pool to stay cold. Our shoulders bumped as we sat there side by side, enjoying our unexpected freedom.

"Just think," she said dreamily, "we could be sitting in Mr. Herman's study hall right now!"

"Just think," I answered, "as far as Mr. Herman knows, we're going to be in the other study hall for the rest of the year working on our projects!"

"Hmm, that does open up some possibilities!"

"Yes, it does!" I told her, reaching around to give her a squeeze.

Des responded by turning toward me and resting her hands on my leg.

"I'd rather be right here than anywhere else in the world."

She leaned forward a fraction and our lips met, softly at first, a slow, loving kiss. That kind of innocent, timeless kiss seems to disappear after high school, but I will never forget the way her lips felt against mine, or the first flicker of her tongue signaling it was time for more. My free hand twined in her hair and pulled her into my arms as our bodies began to respond.

With an impatient snort, Desiree broke our kiss and sat back. "I'm too hot like this!" she said in a petulant voice. She stood up, brushed the crumbs off herself into the water. Then she stepped carefully and gracefully up onto the rock's highest point and turned to look at me. Crossing her arms over her head, she whipped the tunic off in one smooth motion. I sat frozen, looking eagerly up at her as she tossed it further down the rock. Standing there in a pale bra and purple satin panties, she looked like some river goddess come to life. Full tits, winter-pale skin, and broad, luscious hips fought for my attention; Des smiled happily at my wide-eyed ogling.

"That's so much better!" she pronounced. "You should try it."

I stood where I was, turned to face her, and responded to her challenge. My shirt flew through the air to land on top of her tunic. I stepped up onto the rock I had just vacated and pushed my shorts down, taking my boxers along with them. Stepping out of them, I stood back up and tossed them onto the pile as well. The sun played across my body and it was Desiree's turn to stare admiringly. I had been working out hard for soccer and indoor track and it showed. A smile tugged at her lips as her eyes traveled all over my arms, chest, abs, and then locked onto my semi-erect cock.

"Mmm, you look good enough to eat!" she said eagerly.

"You first!" I responded.

She laughed happily. "I'm game!" she said. Her hands twisted up behind her back and unclasped her bra. A quick shake and it fell forward, revealing her tits and tightening nipples. Onto the pile it went. Her thumbs hooked the waistband of her panties, and drew them down an inch. I'm sure my eyes registered disappointment, because she laughed again at her successful tease and then pushed them down all the way, bending effortlessly at the waist until they brushed the rock between her feet. Then she simply stepped out of them and kicked them aside.

It was my turn to stare again. Desiree's mound was shaved smooth! My eyes locked onto that pale, delightful curve I knew so well, suddenly revealed in an amazing and arousing way. Although her cunt was in shadow, I could

Desiree’s Senior Year: Part 1

Snowden Speaks — Thu, 28 Nov 2024 07:58:00 -0600

Finally connecting with a high-school friend.

By outdoorhorny. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Desiree should have been born in the 60's. Everything about her reflected a kinder, gentler, and groovier vibe than the 90's were comfortable with; in short, she was a hippie. She wore patterned peasant skirts, thin cotton T-shirts with mandalas and such, beads all over the place, Birkenstocks, and course, a peace-sign medallion. All of these things drew my eyes to her right away, but they in no way hid the luscious body beneath and behind them. She had long brown hair that fell in soft curls below her shoulders. Her eyes were dark brown, her lips deep red and shaped like Cupid's bow. Full tits and wide hips stretched her garments tight in all the right places. Best of all, her skin was translucent and flawless, even in the dead of winter.

We were both new students in school during our senior year. She had been kicked out of boarding school, and my parents had retired to a small town in the eastern part of the state. That made us the only 2 students in our grade who hadn't been there all 4 years. Actually, the rest of the student body pretty much grew up together, but since the high school served 3 towns, only a third of them had been in school together all 12 years previously. Still, it was enough to make us feel like total outsiders.

That alone was enough to bond us, but we also had a lot of classes together. There were only small sections of upper-level classes in English, history, math, French, and science, and we were in all those together. She was always somewhat spacey, but a good student, a good lab partner and homework buddy, and a pleasure to talk to, even if the conversations took odd turns.

She was dating a guy named David who had already graduated. I spent the fall pursuing the only other single girl in our upper-level group, but she was still kind of seeing her old boyfriend from a few towns away, so that wasn't a regular thing. We all went to the same parties, hung out after soccer and basketball games, and went to the nearest big town once in a while for some wild nights of pizza or McDonalds and a movie.

It wasn't until winter came that I realized how badly I wanted to be with Desiree. There was a lot of snow that winter, and she called one afternoon to tell me that her 18th birthday party was moved from the Science Museum to her own house; that way, no one had to drive 45 minutes in bad weather.

When I got there, Des was dressed up for a change. There was still a hippie vibe to her outfit, but her parents had friends over as well, and everyone was dressed for a holiday party. It turned out that her family had scheduled both things, but combined them to save everyone a drive. Anyway, she looked amazing; her hair was silky and somewhat straighter, she had on a little makeup, and her outfit made her look older and more beautiful. I was glad I had taken some pains to dress up as well; some of our friends didn't get the memo and showed up in our usual teenage gear. She told me how nice I looked, and I made sure to compliment her as well.

Because of my mother's job, I was accustomed to spending time with adults at parties like this one. I chatted with her parents, and with some other adults who were parents of kids at school, or people I had met around town. Even the damn principal of the high school was there, which was a little weird for all of us! I saw Desiree working her way around the room as well, and my eyes kept straying her way as I admired her outfit, her flashing eyes, and the soft ripples of laughter that I knew so well. She caught me looking every once in a while and smiled at me.

When I finally broke away to hang out with my friends, her mom stopped me to say how glad she was that I had come. She complimented my poise, told me I was very grown up, and gave me a peck on the cheek. I grimaced, blushed, and thanked her before disengaging as gracefully as I could. When I got out of the kitchen and headed for the den where the kids were hanging out, Desiree was headed out as well.

"Wow; you're quite the hit with the mom-and-dad crowd, dude" she teased me.

"Just working the room, ya know?" I said in my most pompous voice.

"I'm sorry if my mom embarrassed you," she said apologetically. "She can be kinda over the top. I keep trying to get her to mellow out, but she always comes out with something trippy!"

"No problem; I can handle moms pretty well. My mom used to drag me to parties all the time for her old job, and you just kind of get used to the chit-chat."

"Well," she began, taking my arm, "I was very impressed with your poise!"

I blushed again. "Oh, you heard that, did ya?"

She laughed happily and squeezed my arm, her tits pressing against me closely.

"Yes, I did. I was thinking how grown-up you were, too. When I noticed you checking me out, I kept thinking it was some creepy older guy, but then it was you, and it just made me feel good."

I had no idea what to say to that, so I fell back on flattery.

"Des," I told her, "I'm sorry about that, you just looked so beautiful and natural chatting away with all those people that I couldn't help but look at you!"

A pleased smile appeared, and she squeezed me again.

"Does that mean you didn't think I was beautiful before?"

"Oh, no, not at all!" Did I mention I was far from smooth back in those days?

"So tell me, dude, how long have you been thinking I was beautiful?"

At that point, I realized that she was completely messing with me, but I couldn't stop myself.

"Since day one of school," I told her earnestly.

I think my serious tone took her aback somewhat, but again the pleased smile appeared.

"So it wasn't just because I'm all dressed up and wearing makeup instead of being my usual crunchy self?" she asked. This time, the teasing quality of her voice was more apparent.

A Good Girl Discovers Sensuality.

By Fredly - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

At last, Faith went to sleep Thursday night. In the early morning she awoke confused by the happening and sights of the night before. She was not sure if she had really seen her classmates, Christine and Jim; together in that alley, or had just dreamed the whole episode. As she became more awake, she began to remember making herself come and recalled the dreams that she had during the night. She recalled that most of her dreams had included an enormous erect penis floating in the air and attempting to enter pinhole size openings.

Faith shook her head in an attempt to dislodge the visions. The visions of the sexual activity continued to dance in her head, so she quietly got out of bed and took her shower. The hot water felt good as it cascaded down her body. The water created feelings in her similar to the feeling of the night before. As the feelings spread, she began to stroke her breasts and imagine what it would feel like if Steve, her boyfriend was caressing her

Her thoughts of him served to increase the excitement. She dropped a hand down to her mound and began to stroke her pussy. Faith quickly found her clit and rubbed herself furiously. The waves of pleasure quickly hit, and she found it difficult to remain standing. She quickly finished her shower and dressed for school.

The small college was bustling by the time she arrived. It was a big day for the students. The rival college’s basketball team was coming into town that night for the annual showdown. When She walked down the hallway toward her first class, she thought about the past twenty-four hours. The thought of her actions in the shower that morning made her smile mischievously.

She stopped to open the classroom door when someone grabbed her from behind. She knew that it had to be Steve. No one else would dare to sneak up behind her like that.

"Good morning, Beautiful!" he beamed as he spun her around.

She reached up and gave him a quick kiss and said, "Morning Handsome."

They made some small talk about the game as she waited to go into class. Faith opened the door, and the couple went into her first class. When they reached her seat, he gave her a small kiss and turned to walk away.

"See you at Lunch," he called over his shoulder as he hurried toward his class. That night their date started at the game, where she cheered.

French Friday

They spent the first few hours of the date in their usual fashion. They had gone to the game then and stopped by the local fast-food joint for a bite and a little conversation with the rest of the gang.

Throughout the game and dinner, Faith continued to have flashbacks of the scene she saw the night before. She hoped that no one would ask her about the game because she was so distracted that she didn't think she could even recall the score.

After leaving the restaurant, Steve suggested that they take a drive. The two of them often drove around town, talking to their friends as they cruised up and down the main street of town. Instead of the normal drive, he turned the car out of town. She was still distracted and didn't mind driving in the county. He drove around for a few minutes trying to make small talk. When she finally glanced outside and noticed that they were driving down a deserted road. Up ahead there was a small grove of trees. Steve turned the car into the grove and stopped.

He put his arm around her and pulled her close. She scooted over and sat next to him and relaxed in the comfort of his arm. He stroked her face with his hand and talked about school, their relationship, and other small talk. She enjoyed hearing his voice and the feel of his hand on her face.

He bent down and kissed her. She felt nervous since they had never really spent any time alone in the car like this, but she was confident that she could stop him from doing anything that she didn't want. As he continued to kiss her, she began to get the same feeling between her legs that she had experienced in the alley. He was gently rubbing her back and shoulder and slowly moved his hand down to the front of her blouse.

She knew she should stop him, but his caresses felt too good. As long as he didn't try anything else, she decided not to remove his hand. He continued to kiss her and stroke her breast. Faith could feel her nipples harden with each caress and knew that he could feel her nipple as it pressed into his hand.

She wondered what it would be like to have his hand inside her blouse. She tried to put that curiosity out of her mind because she had been told that good girls didn’t let a date do that. He moved his hand. At first, she felt a sense of loss and wanted him to put his hand back. Suddenly, she began to panic as Steve began to unbutton her blouse.

"Steve, please don't! I can't let you!" she pleaded. He hesitated but continued to move his hand down her blouse, undoing the buttons.

"Please Faith? I won't hurt you, we have been going out for so long! The other guys tell me that their girlfriends don't mind!" As he spoke, he stopped undoing the buttons and placed his hand on her bra.

She sharply caught her breath. His hand felt so good. She knew that his hand wasn't going to harm anything if he just left it outside her bra. He began to caress both breasts through her bra as he kissed her deeply.

As he kissed her, he slowly touched his tongue to her lips. As his tongue touched her, she opened her mouth and let his tongue run across her teeth and into her mouth. She had never French kissed anyone before, but enjoyed the feel of his tongue as it pushed into her mouth. She began to play with his tongue with hers and sucked on his tongue as it snaked in and out across her lips. Gawd, she loved this!

He took his mouth off of hers and began to kiss down her neck. She shivered and felt as if she was floating in his arms. He continued to kiss down her neck until he reached her collarbone. She knew that he would stop soon, and they would go home. However, Steve continued to kiss along her collarbone, slowly pushing her blouse off of her shoulder.

"God, you look beautiful!" he exclaimed as he lifted his head and stared at her bra. "Please, let me look at you?"

She looked into his eyes and felt the same excitement that she had felt in the alley. "It's ok Steve, I’m nervous and a little scared. But if you really think that I am beautiful, I don’t mind.”

"God, yes! Can I kiss you here?" he asked as he grasped her breast through her bra.

"Please Steve, don't ask! I think that we should go! I want you to, but I just can't. Please don't ask!" As she spoke, she looked down and could see his hand on her bra now that her blouse had been pushed off her shoulder. She remembered Christine begging to be touched and wanted some of that for herself. She watched him reach into her bra and begin to pinch and stroke her nipple.

"Oh, Steve! That feels so good," she exclaimed as she pressed her chest into his hand. She couldn't believe that those words had come out of her mouth. She thought quickly about Jim and Christine and knew that it would feel so much better if her bra was not in the way. "Oh, Steve! Don't stop," she moaned.

She felt him moving his hand behind her back and fumbling with the catch on her bra. She subtly leaned forward to help. She wanted him to continue but didn’t want him to know how she felt. Just when she thought that she would either have to stop him or help him, she felt the catch give way. Her bra came loose, and he placed both hands on her full breasts.

"God! What nice tits!" he said.

"Please Steve, don't talk like that! It sounds so vulgar!"

Steve just blew it and made her feel cheap. "But babe, they are just beautiful! I can't help it!" he croaked. She was beaming again. His words boosted her fragile confidence in her own sexuality. He was out of the doghouse almost immediately.

She felt him fumbling to remove her blouse and bra and leaned into him, trying to help without showing her eagerness. Faith knew she should stop him, but she just couldn't. It felt too good. She felt herself being pushed back so that she was lying on the seat. Steve placed himself on top of her and kissed her nipples.

She arched her back so that she could press more of her breast into his mouth. "Yes! That feels so good! Don't stop! Kiss the other!"

Steve sucked her tits and she could feel the hardness between his legs as it pressed against her. Without any conscious effort, their hips began to move together. He ran his hand down her side and moved his hand in between their bodies. He pressed his hand against the front of her jeans. It felt so good, she wished it could go on forever.

Faith felt his fingers move as they attempted to unbutton her pants. She could almost hear her parents' lectures and the shame she had been taught. She panicked and pushed him off of her. She knew that he could not continue, but why? She was so confused and frustrated that she felt like crying.

Frantically she pushed him away. "Stop that! You know that I am not that kind of girl! I just can't let you go any further." Faith’s parents’ lectures spilled out of her mouth.

"Come on babe, stop teasing me! You can't just tease me and leave me like this! I’m so hard that I think I’ll burst! You just have to do something!" he begged. "Here, look for yourself!" he pled as he unzipped his pants.

She could see his straining cock as it poked through his white underwear. "Stop it, Steve! Put it back in your pants! You’re being disgusting!"

Faith turned to look away. As she turned, she took one more look at the object sticking out of his pants. She really wanted to look but the pressure was too much. She sucked in a breath as she froze in her internal conflict.

"Come on Faith! Look at it! I know you want to! Here, I'll take it out so you can see it!" As he spoke to her, she glanced out of the corner of her eye and watched as he pulled his cock from his pants. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder and turned her toward him. "That's it! Look at it real closely," he encouraged.

The tone of his voice and hands on her shoulder broke her trance. She knew she wanted to and used his encouragement to make her decision. She looked at his cock. She couldn't take her eyes off his cock as it stood there hard and poking out of his pants. The erect phallus has a magical capacity to draw out a woman’s curiosity.

"Can I touch it?" she asked as she committed to her desires. It was confusing, on one hand, she couldn’t believe that she has said those words and on the other, she really wanted to feel his cock.

"That would be great!" he moaned. "I need some relief!"

Oh, how she wanted his needs met.

She slowly placed her hand on his cock. She could feel his cock pulse and twitch as she touched it. Steve jumped and moaned as her hand came into contact with his cock. It was so hot and firm. She loved the feel of it in her hand. She continued to rest her hand on his cock and Steve sucked in his breath.

"Do you like my hand on you?" she purred. She instantly realized the control that she had over him when she held his cock. She felt her pussy tighten with pleasure as she experienced this power.

"That's good. Just run your hand around it and move your hand up and down!" he moaned. She slowly circled her hand around the pulsing cock and explored the sensation. She could feel the slippery liquid that had oozed out of the head of his cock. Faith spread the sticky fluid around his cock, then, wrapping her fingers around it as far as she could, she moved her hand up and down. He started breathing deeper and rocked his hips, sliding his cock up and down in her hand. "That's it, baby, keep it up! Your hand feels so good! Don't stop, you're going to make me come!" he begged her to continue. "Faith, this feels so good!"

She felt his hips flexing faster and his cock grow hotter and bigger. "Do you like it, babe? Do you like my hand on your cock?" she asked. She knew his answer before he spoke. She was getting a thrill out of talking dirty. Where did that come from?

"Come on baby! keep going! I am coming!" he shouted.

She felt his cock get bigger and watched as the cock twitched and began spraying her hand with what she knew to be semen. Faith watched in amazement as the white fluid kept coming out of his cock. The car was filled with the earthy scent of his cum. As his cum stopped shooting out of his cock, he slowly relaxed and grabbed her into a tight hug. "That was the best!" he said as he kissed her.

Faith felt exhilarated at the pleasure she had given him. She grabbed some tissue from her purse to wipe up her hands and his glorious phallus.

They got dressed in silence. As they dressed, she couldn’t help feeling a little hurt. She had given him what he wanted, but she remained frustrated. Why did she have to stop him? Why didn't she let him put his hand in her pants? Why didn’t she let him?

They drove home and made small talk. It was the uncomfortable chit-chat that often occurred when they both wanted to talk about what had happened but neither one of them dared to start the conversation or admit their feeling. She couldn’t concentrate on anything he was saying, and she was certain that he was rambling on about things he didn’t want to say, just to avoid the silence of the situation. When they got home, he walked her to the door and kissed her good night.

Faith went inside and went to her room. As she undressed, she could feel the wetness of her panties. Faith laid down and stroked herself to sleep. She was so frustrated that she came very quickly and saw stars as she exploded. She awoke two hours later from a vivid dream of his erupting cock. She had to change her panties once again, and go beck to sleep.

Saturday night depths

The next day was Saturday. Faith slept 'till noon. When she awoke and looked at her phone, she saw a message from Steve. He had called and wanted to see her that night. She knew she loved what had happened and she wanted more. Would she get what she wanted tonight? How did she get what she wanted without being too eager? Quickly, she picked up the phone and called him. They made plans to go to a movie and get something to eat.

He arrived on time that evening to take her to the movie. She was excited and could tell that he was as excited as she was about the evening. They went to the movie, as usual, pretending that this was just a usual date. After the movie, she got into his car. He started the car and she heard him ask, "What do you want to do tonight?"

She knew what she wanted but reluctantly she shrugged her shoulders and replied, "Whatever you want honey!" She hoped he would read her mind and make the decision to go to the grove.

They drove down the street and she could tell that he was thinking about the night before. He was trying to play it cool and pretend to casually drive around town. She was delighted that she was able to make him so happy. Steve nonchalantly drove out of town, nervously glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She knew he was hoping that she wouldn’t notice or object to where they were headed. As they drove, they both knew where they were going. In a few minutes, they found themselves back at the deserted grove of trees.

He quickly kissed her and removed her blouse, reached behind her, and unfastened her bra. He let out a sigh of relief that she hadn't stopped him and began sucking on her tits. She squirmed in delight as he sucked at her nipples.

"That's it hon! keep sucking! it feels so good!" she cooed. He stopped sucking after a few minutes and sat back. He tried to subtlety indicate what he wanted. He raised his hips, trying to persuade her to touch him. She rolled her eye. He wasn’t as clever as he thought he was. She knew what he wanted and decided to play along with his “persuasion.” She reached down and unfastened his pants.

"Good!" he said "That's it! take it out!" She reached into his pants and grabbed his cock. It felt so alive. She lifted his cock out of his underwear and she could already see the moisture collecting on the head. She began to stroke and explore his cock as he signed in relief.

She decided that tonight, she didn't want to go home frustrated. She stopped her ministrations after a few minutes.

"Don't stop now!" he begged.

"How about sucking on my nipples some more?" she asked. He brought her face to his and kissed her.

"Sure, I would love to!" he chuckled. They kissed and he pulled her so that she was laying across his lap, with her head leaning against the car door. She could feel his straining cock as it pressed into her back. He kissed her neck and worked his way toward her breasts. She sucked in her breath as he kissed and nuzzled her tits.

"Yes! Yes, that's it!" she moaned.

He had his left arm around her back, bracing her from the car door. As he kissed her tits, he reached his hand around and began stroking her left breast as he kissed and sucked at her right nipple. He stroked her stomach with his right hand. He cautiously moved his hand lower on her stomach until he reached the top of her jeans. She felt his hand move hesitantly under the waistband of her pants. He moved his hand back and forth along her stomach, just under the material of her jeans, building up confidence, then his hand crept lower and soon was squarely between her legs. She was ready for him this time.

She longed to have him touch her the way she had seen Jim touching Christine.

"Please don't tease me!" she whispered. "I need to feel your hand touching my skin."

He smiled and undid the buttons on her jeans. Steve unbuttoned all the buttons and placed his hand on her panties. She sucked in her breath as he stroked her through the thin material.

"Baby, that feels so good!" she purred. "Don't stop!" She was so wet and knew that he could feel the cloth of the panties getting damp as he rubbed her.

He felt the hair that surrounded her mound and ran his finger down the crease in the center of her mound. She almost lifted her hips clear off of the seat as she felt his finger stroke her through her panties. She rocked her hips into his finger. He then reached up higher and placed his hand inside the band of her panties.

"Go on!" she encouraged him. He pushed his hand under her panties and down onto her pussy. He explored her mound and ran his fingers through the patch of hair surrounding her cunt. He stroked her and felt her pussy lips opening and he could feel the moisture seeping out of her.

"God, you're wet!" he said as he ran his hand down between the lips of her cunt and into her opening.

"Yes! Yes, that's it, rub right there!" she begged. He felt her becoming slicker and opening up as he ran his hand along the slit into her pussy. She jumped as he touched her clit. "Rub harder, come on baby! make me come!"

"Lift your hips so I can get your pants off!" he said as he rubbed her clit.

“Stop talking and help me cum! You can feel enough already!" she groaned as she rubbed her hips back and forth on his finger.

"It would be a lot nicer for you if I didn't have to fight with these damn pants!" he whispered as he continued to circle his finger on her clit, dipping a finger into her pussy.

"You're doing great just as you are! Rub harder! I'm coming!" she cried "Uhn! Uhn! yea baby, more! Yes! yes! yes!" she screamed, and her body tightened as she rubbed herself against his finger. She continued to groan and writhe as she felt the waves of her orgasm.

She started to relax, and she could feel the rock-hardness of his cock poking into her back. She turned to look at the bulge poking out of his pants and started to his cock. While laying in his lap, it was awkward to try and stroke his cock, so she hopped back to her side of the car and continued to explore his cock.

"Yes, baby that's it! Do it like you did last night!" he moaned. She opened his pants farther and exposed more of his cock. She teased his cock as he moaned in delight. "God, Faith that feels great! Put your hand around it and move your hand up and down!" She grabbed his cock and wrapped her hand around it.

"Steve, it's so big! I can

PreMed Sex Tutoring

Tue, 19 Nov 2024 09:31:31 -0600

PreMed Sex Tutoring

Her professor tutors her with an unscheduled â€˜labâ€™ session.

by FatherMarin. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

ALT

Unlike most of her professors, Dr. Redding spoke with enthusiasm. He was clearly passionate about the subject material, and enthusiastic about sharing his knowledge with his freshman class. Just how enthusiastic he could be was something she would come to learn in short order. For now, as the professor lectured, her face remained down while she doodled, one hand covering her brow like a visor. It was all she could do to tune him out. That, and the growing wetness between her legs.

“As you progress through the program and eventually into your residency, you’ll become accustomed to patients being nervous, or shy, just as you’ll become accustomed to your own nervousness. My advice is to not stress about this process, and to just let things happen naturally. Any questions?”

She hadn’t been paying attention to the lecture or the time. Thank god, she thought, her face flush with embarrassment as she rose to leave the class.

“Excuse me, would you remain a moment?”

She turned to the professor before glancing around as her other classmates filed out of the room. “Me?” she asked.

“Yes, if you don’t mind?”

“Well, I have work right after this, and it’s getting late; ” She looked outside, the sun having nearly set.

“I couldn’t help but notice you were distracted today,” Redding said as the last student filed out of the room. This was the last class of the evening, she knew, and soon they would be alone as most of the students left for home or the bar.

“Oh. Maybe. Sorry,” she said.

“A lot of students find it hard to adjust at the start of the year. I like to make sure they know I’m available and willing to help with anything that comes up, or with any needs that may arise. How have you been adjusting?” Redding walked around and casually closed the door at the back of the room before returning to his desk at the front, leaning against the front of it and crossing his arms. His slacks seemed to pull taught against his muscular thighs. The bulge in his pants was noticeable. She swallowed, again that wetness between her legs apparent.

“Fine. No issues, really. Is there something wrong?”

“Not at all. You have a 4 point O this quarter. Normally you’re pretty attentive, but today you hardly looked up once. I thought to check in with you since we’re half-way through the quarter already. How are you finding the material?”

They’d been studying reproductive systems, and in truth, much of it was new to her. She’d come from a conservative household and a private Catholic school, and neither had ever taught her anything much about how her own body worked, or sex, or what to do with herself when she’d felt aroused, except that anything outside of marriage; even masturbation; was a sin. It was no wonder that when she began to notice Redding she had a hard time focusing.

“It’s; fine,” she said, fidgeting nervously in her chair. She looked up at him, at his broad chest and handsome features: his 2-day stubbled chin, blue eyes, shaggy hair. He looked like someone from a shampoo commercial. The front of his shirt was tucked casually into his pants, belt slightly askance as he shifted position, ankles uncrossing and crossing again.

Suddenly aware that her nipples were pressing prominently against her blouse, she pushed her chest forward, unaware of the motion until she made it.

“I don’t have a lot of, um; I mean with the material, I don’t; I haven’t; ” she trailed off, catching herself again glancing toward the bulge in his pants before looking quickly away. Was it growing?

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you? Not much in the way of sex ed either, I take it?”

She gasped, blushed, felt the heat rise quickly in her chest and throat and, yes, between her legs.

“Don’t worry,” Redding said, uncrossing his arms and gripping the edge of the desk as he leaned back. “It’s just as I said in class: you have to get used to these things, get comfortable talking about sex and bodies and vaginas and erections and ejaculation. If you’re not comfortable, then your patients aren’t going to be comfortable. As doctors, it’s our job to put them at ease.”

Redding spoke matter-of-factly, casual, as if he were discussing what to have for dinner. His candor helped put her at ease and she relaxed a little, setting her backpack on the floor next to her desk. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps talking about these things openly and objectively would help put some of her nerves at ease.

“I’ve never seen a penis,” she said, deciding in the moment to throw herself out there, as her roommate was constantly encouraging. This was her professor, a man in a position of respect and authority. He could be trusted. She could learn from him. If not him, then whom else? “I’ve been so focused on studying and working that I haven’t had time for a boyfriend, and school is only going to get harder. I guess I’m just worried that by the time I do, the first one I see will be a patient’s.”

Her professor nodded, seeming to consider what she had said. “And you feel that with your inexperience, your patients won’t trust you? That they’ll somehow know you’re a virgin?”

He was right. She looked from the window and the setting sun outside, turning to acknowledge what he had said, but again her gaze went first to his crotch and for a moment, the words caught in her through.

There was a growing erection. She simply nodded, unable to take her eyes off it.

“Look,” Redding said, taking a step toward her. “I don’t often do this, but I want to help you. I want to make sure you succeed. I can tell your inexperience is really bothering you, and I want to make sure you can put your mind at ease. If you want, I’d be willing to show you mine. I moonlight as a nude model every now and then, so I’m used to this anyway. Would you feel better if you got to see what a penis looked like in real life?”

“Uh huh,” she said, unable to speak. Was this really happening? Was it unethical?

Deeply unethical, her mind screamed. And yet, that wetness between her legs, the warmth there;

Redding unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down. They fell to the floor. His legs were muscular, black briefs skin-tight against the thick chords of muscles in his thighs. A large erection there; six inches? Seven? She couldn’t be sure; was apparent.

“I’d show you what a flaccid penis looks like, but one thing you’ll learn about men is that they can’t often control when they’re erect. Just accept it when it happens and everything will come naturally after that. Being a nude model probably helped me more with that than being a doctor, to be honest. Here, I’ll show you,” he said, pushing his briefs down to the floor. Out sprang his cock, and she gasped.

She had seen a dildo at a sex shop once, but seeing the real thing was something else entirely. He was thick, and well trimmed. A small line of hair rain up his navel. She felt dizzy.

“Notice that I am circumcised,” he said, taking another step. He was close now, within reach. She squirmed in her seat, again aware of her erect nipples, the wetness between her legs, heat in her neck and chest.

He continued.

“If I were not,” he said, taking his cock in his hand and moving it so she could see it from another angle, “a layer of foreskin would conceal the head of my penis, and it would retract as I entered my partner, or masturbated.”

She could smell his cologne. Faint, earthy. Sandalwood, maybe, or vanilla.

“You’ve never performed oral sex before, have you?”

She shook her head.

“Give me your hand.”

He reached for her, and, head spinning, heart pounding, she took it. Gently he guided it to his thick, bulging shaft, and wrapped her fingers around it.

“Like this,” he said, his hand still around hers. He began to guide her hand up and down his shaft, up and down, slowly.

“When your partner becomes aroused like this, it’s good to start things off with your hands. It’s okay to take your time at this point. There’s no rushing foreplay. Especially as a virgin, you want to make sure you’re going slowly.”

He guided her fingers along his shaft and over the tip of his cock, which had begun to leak precum. He removed his hand from hers, allowing her to continue on her own.

“And now this,” he said, taking another step toward forward. Her chair was just the right height to put her face in line with his cock, and gently he took the back of her head, guiding himself into her mouth. He moaned as her tongue slipped over the tip of his penis, his throbbing shaft pressing into the back of her throat. She gagged at first and he backed partially out before pulling her head back onto him. Her hands found his hips and before she realized what she was doing, she found herself bobbing over his cock, the tip of it bumping against the back of her throat as she took all of him. It was a surprise how easily she found herself able to deepthroat him, something she would later credit to her natural lack of a strong gag reflex.

“Yes,” he moaned, his hips now thrusting into her as he fucked her mouth. “Yes, exactly. Just like that.”

Jesus Christ this is wrong, she thought. What the fuck am I doing? I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m that student. What would my friends think? What would my pastor think?

But the taste of him was incredible, and the gentle way he fucked her throat was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She felt like; like; her mind struggled to think of something.

Like a whore.

“Your partner should warn you when he’s about to cum. When it happens, you’ll decide if you’re comfortable swallowing his ejaculate or not. And you’re going to have to make that decision very soon,” he said, grunting. He had become more aggressive, grabbing a fistful of her hair from the back of her head. No longer was he gentle. No longer was he going slow. He pulled her head hard against his crotch as he thrust forward, fucking her mouth with reckless abandon.

“I’m cumming,” he said, grunting, “I’m cumming. Oh god, fuck, yes!” He pulled her onto his shaft one last time, deep, burying his large and rock-hard erection deep in her throat. A thick stream of cum burst from him as his cock throbbed, hot ropes of semen coating the back of her throat. She swallowed it all.

After a moment he pulled back, out of breath. “There,” he said, panting. “You’re very good at that. Nothing to worry about at all. You’ll know what to do for next time. Here.” He lead her from her desk and guided her toward his.

“But, I don’t; ”

“It’s okay,” he said, standing in front of her. His hands found her button on her jeans and he undid them, pushing them to the floor.

She kicked her flip flops off and stepped out of them, suddenly aware she had not been wearing any panties that day. “As a doctor, you’re going to need to know how to interact with your female patients as well. You’re going to want to be able to relate to them when they tell you about their clitoris.” He slid her panties off her hips, then pulled her shirt over her head. Her arms came up willingly enough. This was happening too fast, and, head spinning, pussy aching, she let it.

Whore, she thought as he gripped her breast in one hand and took the nipple of her other in his mouth. Iâ€™m a fucking whore who will suck and fuck and let myself be touched. The thought excited her.

“There are many nerves in the nipples, and it’s often a great way have your partner stimulate you,” he said, his tongue flicking over her nipple. He opened wide and took her breast inside his mouth, the entirety of her areola fitting in as he gently sucked. With his other hand he pinched her other nipple, palmed her breast, rubbed and squeezed it.

“Oh,” she gasped, a moan coming from between her soft, parted lips.

The desk was clear. She shifted on top of it and laid down as he pressed her back against it. He continued to lick and suck on her nipples, alternating between them. The palm of his right hand slid down her chest, over her belly button, and down to her pussy. Her wetness greeted him there and, moaning, she spread her legs, hips gently rocking forward to meet his fingers. Wordlessly he moved his head down, kissing her navel, hands sliding down each of her legs until he gripped behind her knees and held her legs apart. Her toes curled before his tongue even touched her, but when it did, her whole body shivered.

“You may find partners that go straight for the clitoris with vigorous stimulation, but I would encourage you to have them go slow, and explore the entirety of the labia majora and labia minora. Especially as a virgin, taking time to really relax and prepare for intercourse will go a long way toward ensuring any pain you experience is minimized. Like this,” he said, and began to lick.

With the broad of his tongue, her professor licked from the bottom of her pussy all the way to the top, the pressure light. She shuddered as he flicked her clit, then licked from front to back on one side of her pussy, slowly, before coming back up on the other. She squirmed as he licked her, inching her pussy closer to his face and moaning for more. She took the back of his head in her hands, as he had done with her, and began to rock toward him, her legs and feet in the air. The feeling was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

Then he began to use his hands.

Her professor took his thumb and rubbed the entrance of her vagina while he sucked gently on her clit. Fingers wet, he ran his fingers along the length of her while flicking her clit with his tongue. With one hand behind her knee to hold her leg apart, he took the other and began pinching her nipple, thumb flicking it and running over it.

Up and down his fingers ran, his tongue rapidly going over her clit top to bottom, top to bottom, faster and faster until he switched direction, this time flicking her clit from side to side. Eagerly she thrust her hips into him, pulling the back of his head hard onto her pussy.

A growing sensation of the utmost intensity built within her and she moaned loud, pressing his head into her as she thrust forward as hard as she could, orgasming all over his face. It felt like an explosion and her body roiled, her legs shuddering and she gasped and rode the long and hard orgasms to completion. Carefully he eased off, his tongue still flicking over her clit, her body shuddering violently with each flick as the aftershocks overtook her.

He took her hips and pulled her to the edge of the desk, her ass sitting against it now, legs still spread before him, swollen pussy still throbbing and still aching.

“Is; is that it?” she gasped, eyes closed, trying to catch her breath, unaware that he stood before her with his thick cock hard again and just inches from her opening.

“Not quite,” her professor said. She felt something different press against her then and she looked up, shocked to see the head of his cock resting against her clit.

“Wait; stop; what; what are you doing? You can’t,” she moaned, already her hips and her throbbing, aching, swollen pussy toward him.

“This can’t; but you’re; ”

He held her feet in each hand and pressed her legs higher into the air, rubbing his cock all along the length of her pussy. Slowly he began to enter her, pressing inside a centimeter at a time and waiting while she relaxed and stretched her tight, wet cunt around him.

He leaned forward and again took one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking, flicking it with his tongue. The thickness of his hard cock was incredible, the pressure as she stretched around him mounting as he eased inside her. There was pain, but as promised, it was bearable, and it paled in comparison to the weight of him on and inside her. After what seemed like an eternity, he was all the way inside her, deep, and slowly he began to back out before pressing back inside her again.

“Oh my god,” she whimpered, his face now buried in her neck, his mouth on the lobe of her ear. She began to rock her hips in time with his own, slowly, at first, then faster as she began accustomed to his cock thrusting in and out of her. He pulled all the way out before pressing all the way back inside her, again and again, the rhythm building.

“Harder,” she said, now moaning with each thrust. The thickness and fullness of his cock, the way it filled her completely, the way she spread her legs for him, her professor, the wrongness of it; it was all she could do but to grunt in ecstasy, her fertile, unprotected womb open to him.

“Oh no, oh fuck!” she said, realizing that he was taking her bare. “You can’t cum inside me, please, don’t cum inside me. I’m not on any birth control!”

He said nothing, instead doing as she asked: harder he thrust into her as she lay there on her back, exposed to him and giving herself over to her professor. He stood up, still fucking her, still pounding her hard now, and began to suck on her toes, taking her big left one in his mouth, one hand gripping her ankle and with the other rubbing her pussy, thumb flicking over her clit.

He’s not going to stop, she realized, rocking her hips toward him and in time with his thrusts. He’s going to cum inside me. He’s going to shoot his sperm deep inside and I’m going to become pregnant.

Together they moaned, grunted, his balls slapping against her ass as his thick cock thrust in and out of her. She couldn’t stop him, though. Wouldn’t. Didn’t want to. Knowing what this meant, what his raw, bare cock deep inside her fertile cunt as her feet bobbed in the air only made the pressure grow. As before when his mouth was on her it built, built, until she knew the moment had arrived.

“I’m going to cum,” she said, “oh god I’m going to cum,” this time, aware of what it meant to have an orgasm.

“I’m cumming,” he said, pumping her and looking into her eyes. “I’m cumming.”

Together they orgasmed hard. He pressed inside her and she pushed her hips to meet him, his thick ejaculate dumping inside her tight, wet pussy. Over and over his cock throbbed, each time pushing more of his seed inside her. Together they panted to catch their breath, his cock still buried deep inside her. He released her ankles and her legs wrapped around him, feet crossing at the small of his back, to pull him closer and hold him there, hold his cock and his sperm in her womb. Her arms whapped his neck and pressed his chest against her tits. They were both breathing hard, their cheeks pressed side by side.

She released her arms after a couple minutes. He drew his head back to look her in the eyes. She smiled. What else could he teach h

Be Fruitful and Multiply: Part 2

Mon, 18 Nov 2024 09:31:59 -0600

After a world-wide disaster, new rules take effect.

Based on a post by barnabus, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Jolene was satisfied that she had done her duty. She lay the washcloth on the night stand. Without a word, she sat on the bed, removed her saddle shoes and bobby socks, then, naked, slid under the covers. Jim’s erection was returning with a vengeance at the sight of this nude girl climbing into bed with him. Jim was ready, his arm extended to be beneath Jolene’s head and around her shoulders. On her back, her breasts lost their definition, spreading and flattening. It had never occurred to Jim how much a good bra shapes and complements a woman’s figure. Still, Jolene, the secret fantasy of every boy in school, had just climbed into his bed, and she had just given him her virginity.

The streaks of blood he had found on his penis and thighs and Jolene’s washcloth had confirmed that. He swelled with masculine pride knowing that he had been the man to pop Jolene’s cherry! It was he, not her quarterback boyfriend, but he who had taken her virginity. He had hoped to fuck her today, but had only the faintest expectation that he might actually be her first! After all, she was beautiful and popular! Jim expected that Tom, her current boyfriend, or someone else would have claimed her maidenhead before today.

The two talked for a while, saying little, but talking none the less.

Finally, he boorishly put his hand on her breast. Jolene stiffened.

“They said we should do it several times to;”

Jolene felt the tension in her stomach when she heard Jim’s words. “I know,” she replied.

Jim was elated. Jolene had given him her virginity. She hadn’t exactly fucked him; rather, she lay there on the bed and unresponsively let him fuck her which was as much as he could realistically expect. Then, he watched as she had removed the rest of her clothing and returned to his bed, naked, to do it again. Can life get any better than this? Yes! he decided openly allowing his fantasies to progress to the next step. It would be better if she fucked him back! But that was an unrealistic fantasy. ‘Nice girls’ would never actively participate in sex. They might permit it, but they would never initiate it and certainly never become the aggressor or even actively participate themselves.

Jolene was determined to do her duty, even though the experience might not be everything she had hoped for and the man was not the partner she would have chosen. Replenishing the world’s population was more important than her own personal likes and dislikes.

As crude and inexperienced as Jim was, he was also a very perceptive man. He knew that their initial encounter had not been very satisfactory for Jolene And, if possible, he wanted to rectify that.

Softly, gently, his hand caressed her breast and body, slowly exploring every place he could reach, but always watching to see if she liked it. Jolene was tense and nervous, even frightened. The memory of the pain of her deflowerment was still fresh in her memory. But slowly, she began to relax beneath his tender touch. There was an itch forming deep inside her, a small but definite fire growing in her belly. Was this the beginnings of passion that Jim was stirring up in her?

Still holding her breast, Jim leaned over and kissed Jolene He was unskilled at kissing, but the kiss was gentle and although she lay unresponsive, there was a stirring in her loins and gradually she began to return the kiss, bringing her hand up behind Jim’s head. Unconsciously, her vaginal muscles quivered with expectancy.

Jim kissed her nose, her cheekbones, her forehead, and gradually worked his way downward, grazing her perky nipples, momentarily sucking on them before his kisses worked their way downward. Again, she tensed nervously, knowing that he would be kissing her; down there! He observed how she tensed up when he kissed the area below her soft stomach and closed in on her most intimate areas.

As his kisses moved downward, the sheet moved with him, leaving her uncovered and exposed. Unconsciously, Jolene’s hand covered her breasts, concealing them from view.

With utmost care and tenderness, he kissed her fur-lined mound. As he continued kissing her pubis, he brought up his hand and barely inserted a single digit into her damp vagina ever so slightly penetrating her, but causing a spasm of shuddering from the blond cheerleader. Her long, slender legs separated, permitting better access to the finger and hand. His kisses continued, his shoulder moved between her knees and his tongue found her clitoris jolting a whimper from her.

His finger moved very little, simply being a presence at the entrance of her womanhood while his darting tongue spurred her libido. The combination caused Jolene to rapidly become hot and bothered. She didn’t love Jim. And she wasn't in love with him. So why was he generating this excitement, this thrill in her? It should be Tom touching her, not Jim!

Soon, she was practically pumping her hips against his finger and tongue. Her breath was coming hard and fast, she raised her head looking down, momentarily distracted by her tingling, fully erect, nipples that were pointing straight up. Jim, who had moved his entire body between her thighs, looked up and she gave an embarrassed smile that looked both innocent and hungry at the same time. The agitation she felt from the magical effect his finger and tongue extended far beyond where they were actually touching, radiating throughout her pelvis, breasts and, indeed, her entire viscera.

Overcome by stimulation, Jolene grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face upward so she could stop the maddening stimulus to her holy of holies. Her breasts flattened against his chest and her rock-hard nipples pressed into him as his weight settled on top of her, sandwiching her between his firm body and the mattress beneath her, but she didn’t seem to mind. Their mouths met and Jolene could taste herself on his lips. She hesitated to kiss him.

Jolene felt his penis at her opening. This time, he had found it without her help. He was erect and ready to penetrate her again. She was trembling with temptation and anticipation and she gasped as he moved between her velvet lips. She was more than ready for another union! Closing her eyes, she surrendered, relaxing her body and her vaginal muscles, and began to kiss him back. Still afraid, Jolene steeled herself as a delicious ache in her abdomen grew.

It was like a soft electrical current running through her pelvis and up her spine! Once again, she froze, caught in the deep kiss she had instigated, yielding before the insidious pressure as he slowly entered her, at first, barely penetrating, but pushing in deeper with each very gentle thrust, proceeding slowly, one inch at a time. A tiny moan emerged into his mouth, smothered by her lips, as his penetration deepened.

Jolene’s well-lubricated vagina was still sore from the loss of her virginity, but there was almost no discomfort as he moved into her this time. The stimulation in her loins was growing as the kiss deepened. Her thighs presented no resistance as Jim slipped between them. Slowly, she shifted her hips until she felt Jim slip comfortably into her.

Jim began a slow, rhythmic movement, filling her, then pulling out only to press into her again.

(Jim was thankful he had found that book in the library that seriously talked about technique, and not simply flat out fucking. He was using some of the techniques mentioned in the book; and even with his lack of experience, he recognized Jolene’s responses.)

Jolene was surprised to find that her misgivings about joining in sexual intercourse with this geek were slowly eroding. He had said he was a virgin. So where had he learned to treat a woman like that? She realized that she was moving her hips in a steady rhythm matching the rhythm that Jim had established. Catching herself, she froze, but sensations she never thought possible were careening through her mind and body.

When she realized that she was matching his rhythm a second time, she relaxed and let her body respond as it wanted to, moving her hips against his which allowed very real pleasures to overtake her. Her conscious kept reminding her what was 'right’ and what she 'should' be doing. but this conflicted with her instinctive physical responses and her confusing emotions. Slowly, her body won out and Jolene began rocking her pelvis into Jim, acknowledging the feeling of having him inside of her, filling her, stimulating her desire. It was almost more than she could take.

Jolene progressively became as fully aroused as she could imagine. Surrendering her ability to think clearly, the guilt she had felt having sex with a virtual stranger was replaced with anticipation and increased pleasure as her body became acclimated to being female and delighting in the joys of receiving physical love from this wonderful male. He had to be a wonderful man to make her feel like this.

Jim grinned and pumped more urgently now, shifting forward, plunging his stiff cock deep into her tight, slick opening with each long, deliberate thrust. Jolene didn’t even realize it when she started panting and making tiny animal noises. Jim stroked deeper, burying himself to the hilt inside her, each stroke making her moan softly. He felt his cock swelling inside the cheerleader, and his arousal caused him to become animal-like in his increasingly intense thrusting. He penetrated her deep and hard, driving her to loud moans of ecstasy.

Jolene’s response made Jim swell with male pride, and he pumped her even harder and faster. Fucking this beautiful cheerleader made him feel wonderful! The bed quaked with their passionate lovemaking as Jolene arched her back, whimpering and crying out while Jim pumped in piston-like rhythm. Slowly but surely, Jolene’s once innocent and virtuous reserve was collapsing, and her once icy demeanor was melting away as her instinctive feminine needs were awakened by Jim’s attentions and lovemaking. There was a satisfied look of euphoria and adoration on Jolene’s face when Jim climaxed and once more she received his sperm inside of her

Chapter 4: Ah!

Jolene had felt a strange excitement and frustration building within her. In many respects it reminded her of her first kiss. Or the emotions she felt when she first fell in love. She suspected it might be an orgasm building, but not yet achieved. But Jim had stopped before she could find out.

She’d had sex twice now and hadn’t received an orgasm. And how after three times she still had not had an orgasm, she was starting to wonder if something was wrong with her or if her girlfriends were just making stuff up. Maybe all of this stuff about orgasms was just stuff that people had made; Tiffany gasped and suddenly learned what all her girlfriends were talking about.

Jolene had heard about orgasms, those mysterious, mystical experiences that older girls whispered about, but Jolene didn’t know anyone who had experienced one. Nanette was her only close girlfriends who had 'gone all the way’. Several times, as a matter of fact, and with different boys. And Nanette had complained that once she slept with a boy, all he ever wanted to do was fuck! But Nanette also grumbled that she had never experienced an orgasm with a boy. And yet, this nerd, Jim, seemed to have Jolene teetering close to one. Then he came and he stopped. It was like Nanette had said: “when a boy’s through, he's through!”

Crudely speaking, Jolene had been given the assignment to fuck. And since Jim was her assigned 'mate’, they were obviously going to continue fucking, at least for a while. Virtue and propriety were no longer considerations in Jolene’s life, at least not in relationship to sex. And if she was going to fuck, Jolene wanted to orgasm, too! She deserved an orgasm! She wasn’t going to be cheated out of an orgasm just because some man didn’t make the effort. She was entitled to her orgasm! Why didn’t he know how to give it to her?

But she knew that was silly. If she didn’t know how to achieve an orgasm, why should Jim know how to give her an orgasm. He had said that he was a virgin too, so how would he know?

When his softening member slipped out of her, Jolene impatiently tried to urge Jim to make love to her again. She actually wanted to experience an orgasm and find out what it was really all about. But Jim became agitated and complained that he needed time to 'recharge’, whatever that meant. When she grasped his manhood and tried squeezing and pulling, she was surprised that there was no response. Jim explained that it took a man a period of time before he could regain an erection.

“How long?” she demanded. Jim didn’t know.

Petulant, Jolene lay back to wait. Strangely, she had never even though about orgasming when she had been with Tom in the back seat of his Jeep.

Jim was somewhat shocked by the 'new Jolene’. This was not the prim and proper Jolene he had seen at school for years. It was not the shy and submissive Jolene of his fantasies. Still, he had wanted Jolene to fuck him back. And that was exactly what she had done. Now she showed every inclination to actively fuck him without reservation. So, why not?

He had also been surprised when she pouted and pulled away whenever she didn’t get what she wanted or whenever things didn’t work out the way she wanted. He had never seen this side of her before, and it wasn’t very attractive.

But Jim was young and virile, so it wasn’t long before he began growing larger and harder in her hand.

Jolene felt it first. Then her eyes were drawn to that shaft in her hand that was slowly, much too slowly, rising.

“Now?” she asked, almost eagerly. “Again?”

Without prompting, she spread her knees wide and licked her full red lips as Jim crawled between her legs. Jim was afraid of this new Jolene: would he be good enough for her? It was one thing to simply stick his cock in a girl’s pussy and shoot his wad. The responsibility of doing whatever was necessary to please her was intimidating and scary as hell.

Jolene, with heart hammering, still holding is penis in her hand, guided him straight to her womanhood where he paused, savoring the moment, but also dreading it.

Not knowing what to do, he decided to try every option he could remember from the book. It was frightening, and a tremendous responsibility. And it would be much more work than fun.

Jim started by sucking and gnawing on her neck. Jolene rolled her head from side to side and sobbed. He bit her earlobe, unfortunately much too hard, and she cried out. It hurt her, but it excited her also and she didn’t want to do anything to interfere with the excitement.

Jim nibbled and kissed his way down until he found a nipple. Jolene moaned when he sucked hard, almost filling his mouth with her breast. Lustful pleasure transfused her as her breast distended, reforming itself to the contours of his mouth. She was twisting and turning beneath him, but she made no attempt to escape him. Desire was burning inside of her, her womanhood yearned for sex. The pure, prim and proper Jolene, the captain of the cheer leading team, was aching to be fucked!

Jim moved from one breast to the other, sucking her nipples, making them harden with each intake into his mouth. Then, her senses crashed through the ceiling as, unexpectedly, he slipped a single finger barely into her pussy. Unbidden, Jolene’s juices poured into his hand and Jolene started panting at his unexpected, but intensely erotic intrusion.

Still holding his penis, she pulled him toward her. The teasing finger disappeared and she felt something large and rubbery separate her feminine folds.

She began to stroke his shaft and held her breath as he mounted her. She was utterly helpless and vulnerable as his weight settled on top of her. Then she gave a squeal of sexual excitement and lust as the now familiar cock moved into her already hot pussy She gave a gasp, then sobbed as he moved deeper, stretching her wider than she could have imagined. Gasping, Jolene was filled like she never imagined she would be filled.

For a minute, she kept her hand between them, feeling his penis as it moved into and out of her, receiving the double sensation of feeling with her hand what her body was experiencing.

She removed her hand and clutched him to her pressing her soft mountains of flesh into his chest and he buried his cock to the hilt.

From his first entry, her body responded. Jolene whimpered as his penis began to repeatedly press into her increasingly hot body. She responded to every thrust. His thrusts became stronger, more masterful, building a sexual heat within her beyond anything she could ever have imagined. Waves of pleasure made her back arch and she sighed in sheer delight!

This was the road to orgasm. Jolene was getting what she wanted. Why, then, was she so surprised that she was receiving it? Smiling, she let her head lie back 'Savor it,’ she told herself. 'Don’t analyze it! Let it go. Enjoy it! Let it go!’

Jim was desperately trying to read her responses, trying to observe what pleased her, what satisfied her. He had cum twice. He wanted to give her the same satisfaction that he had enjoyed.

He watched her beautiful face and grinned when he saw her smile and heard her sighing in sexual bliss.

Jolene’s luscious body was building on the arousal of their last attempt at lovemaking. She suspected the orgasm that she wanted so much was coming. “I can’t believe what your cock is doing to me,” she gasped out, and immediately she felt Jim’s manhood harden even more as she uttered the 'dirty words’.

Her hips were thrusting into his as hard as he was thrusting into her. She was giving Jim the ride of his life!

<Take your time and learn to explore each other,> the book had told Jim. <The first time may be very awkward but once that is over you will be past the initial fears and be able to learn each other’s bodies and responses. But don’t rush it.>

Having left behind her initial virginal reluctance and reserve Jolene throw herself into the act of love with wild abandon. She had no reservations this time and she actively joined in. Arching her back, she pressed her breasts into Jim’s hands when he fondled her. His lips on her nipples sent the most wonderful sensations throughout her entire body. She was so intent on seeking her orgasm that she no longer cared who she was with. Her pleasure increased as she totally accepted Jim as her mate. Remembering what she had done earlier and what had excited her, Jolene ventured further into unexplored territory. She used every thrust as an experiment to try to find how she could to shift her body to achieve more stimulation. Every time he thrust into her, she responded, moving her hips, trying to position them so that, selfishly, she would receive the greatest stimulation.

Jim, having the gratification of already fucking Jolene twice, concentrated on the lessons he had learned in that book, paying constant attention to her, listening to her responses, observing what she did, doing whatever he sensed pleased her.

Panting hard, Jolene immersed herself in the warm excitement washing through her. It was more intense t

Be Fruitful and Multiply: Part 1

Sun, 17 Nov 2024 09:31:26 -0600

After a world-wide disaster, new rules take effect.

Based on a post by barnabus, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Forward:

The setting is the nineteen fifties. After a world-wide disaster, new rules take effect.
Jolene; A high school cheer leader, awakens to find that a worldwide disaster has occurred killing 85% of the world’s population. She has been selected to participate in a breeding program to replenish the world’s population.
Most of theparticipants are virgins. It also explains Jolene’s surprise when she hears a girl moaning with sexual pleasure and Jim’s shock when Jolene becomes ‘the aggressive partner’ in their relationship. (For those who grew up after the 'free love’ period of the 1960s and 1970s, you’ll just have to take my word for it: That’s the way it was!)
Nanette, on the other hand, has obviously been 'sexually active’ (to use a modern term: In the 1950s, another description would have been used), but it becomes apparent to the astute reader that although she has been sexually 'active’, she probably has not received a great deal of satisfaction from her sexual activity.

Chapter 1: Orientation.

“As you all know, there was a world-wide disaster.”

As if coming out of a daydream, Jolene’s mind drifted back into reality. The last thing she remembered was sitting in a Trigonometry class thinking about a cheer leading routine. She was the head cheerleader and was scheduled to run the next cheer leading practice.

There was a man with a clipboard and a briefcase at the head of a long table, talking. Instinctively, Jolene tuned in on what he was saying.

The word “disaster” grabbed her attention. He continued: “To our best estimate, as much as 85% of mankind has been destroyed.” Jolene was suddenly awake and alert, carefully listening. He went on, “The government, what’s left of it, has determined that an organized breeding program must be established, and you have all been selected to be part of the initial phase. Everyone in this group is 18 years old and was a high school student. You’re all in good health, and hopefully, you will be able to produce healthy offspring. The girls are all in their fertile period, so this is an ideal time for each of you. You have been pared with a partner who is a favorable genetic match to you, and you have been brought here to see if you are compatible with your match. And if you are, you will be expected to breed to procreate children to help repopulate our country and world.”

Jolene looked around the room. Everyone was about her age, except the man at the head of the table. They were arranged in boy-girl couples. Jolene recognized two of the girls in the room: she was sitting next to Jim and across the table, Jolene recognized Nanette, a close girlfriend, was sitting next to John. Jim and John were both nerds and not part of Jolene’s 'inner circle’ of friends. She had seen the another girl and boy from her school in the halls and knew they were a couple, but she didn’t know their names. And there were other couples that Jolene didn’t know, apparently from other schools.

Nanette wore a new, scandalously fashionable see-through blouse which displayed her lacy camisole top that hugged her well-shaped breasts and revealed the lines of Nanette’s brassier The bra-straps were clearly visible. There was just a trace of two bumps showing exactly where Nanette’s nipples were beneath her undergarments. Nan’s skirt was the shortest skirt in the room, stopping slightly above her knees: rather immodest for the mid 1950’s.¬

All of the girls were wearing blouses that buttoned down the front and skirts. There were no sweaters or slacks.

Jolene raised her hand. “Excuse me. What disaster? I don’t know about any disaster. The last thing I remember was sitting in Trigonometry class at school. What are you talking about?”

“That is a normal after effect of the disaster. The disaster occurred several weeks ago. Many people do not remember either the disaster or what happened afterward. At some point, your memory will begin working again and will pick up from that point onward. I’m sorry, Miss,” he paused to look at his clipboard, “Miss Jolene, if your memory hasn’t begun functioning yet. And in case you don’t remember, I am the monitor of this program.”

He scanned the others in the room. “Are there others that don’t remember what has happened before today?” he asked. Several hands in the room went up. “This must be terribly frightening for you.”

Jolene and several others nodded.

“I’m sorry that you are finding yourself in this situation without knowing what led up to it. However, it has been decided we cannot delay the program to increase our population any longer.” He looked around the room, meeting the many nervous eyes in the room. “I appreciate that this might be especially difficult for many of you. In this world of the 1950’s most of you young people live celibate lives, and although you might think about sex, probably most of you have never”, he paused and stammered, “taken your fantasies to, um, shall we say” he paused to swallow, “their ultimate conclusion.”

Many of the young people, especially the girls, were embarrassed the casual way he was talking about their sex-lives; or, rather, the lack of sex in their lives.

Again, Jolene raised her hand. “Excuse me, but shouldn’t I be matched up with Tom Green?” she asked. Tom was her boyfriend. He was a year older than she was and they had been dating for a little more than a year.

“Green?” The man asked and pulled a large book from his briefcase. He perused the pages, then looked up sadly. “I’m afraid Tom didn’t survive the disaster. I’m sorry, Miss Jolene” He returned his book to his briefcase. “In any case, we believe that, er,” he fumbled with a name and pointed toward Jim, the boy sitting next to Jolene, “that he is the best genetic match for you that is available.”

Jolene gave Jim a withering sideways glance.

Resuming his lecture, the man continued, “Each couple will be given its own room, which will be adequately furnished. We would like to get the program started as soon as possible.” There was a moment of embarrassed silence in the room before the monitor added: “I know that many of you are embarrassed by this, but let me assure you that there are boys and girls all around the country are meeting in rooms like this and are being told the same things you are. Many are meeting their prospective mates for the very first time. I believe you all have the advantage of already being acquainted with the mate that has been selected for you.”

A pretty girl, the one from her school that Jolene didn’t know, raised her hand. “But I can’t do this. I’m not married to; ” she pointed to the boy sitting next to her.

“We chose to start this program without requiring marriage,” the monitor stated. “If it turns out that your offspring match our genetic expectations and you wish to get married to your partner, then of course you can. But we’d like to keep the option of rearranging the couples if the genetics don’t work out the way we hope they will. We need to replenish our population as rapidly as feasible and to expand our gene pool as widely as possible. Therefore, every girl of childbearing age will be expected to have at least four to six children. Ideally, each child will be sired by a different father since that will give us the widest possible diversity to our gene pool. So for the moment, marriage is not required. If you wish to be married before you proceed, we can furnish you with an appropriate clergyman.

The girl who had raised the question looked at the boy sitting next to her, and shook her head. "No, I think marriage can wait.” Obviously, although she had been dating her 'mate’, she wasn’t ready to be married to him, yet. She probably also was not enamored with the idea of deliberately having a baby with him. Or possibly it was simply going through the process of starting a baby that she didn’t look forward to.

Again, Jolene raised her hand. “I’m only eighteen. That’s awfully young to have a baby, or to start a family,” she stated.

“The world is different now,” the monitor stated. “Some of the old principles are not practical anymore. This program starts with 18-year-olds and above, but soon, probably even younger girls will be encouraged to have babies.”

Considering the discussion closed, the monitor concluded his remarks.

“All right, then. We will take each couple to its room and we will allow you to proceed. Each room is equipped with a sofa and a bed and bathroom facilities. There is a phone in each room. Simply pick up the phone if any of you need help or encouragement. We’re here to help you, and we’d like to make things as easy as possible for you.”

He stood and started toward the door. “Oh, I know this may be difficult for many of you. I suggest that once you are in your room, girls should open their blouses and remove their bras and panties. Boys should remove their trousers and unbutton your shirts. This may help encourage the mood.

"Also, remember, our goal is for each girl to get pregnant as soon as possible. Therefore, we encourage each of you to copulate several times to increase your odds of getting pregnant. He paused and faced the group with a smile that somehow seemed inappropriate.

"And now,” he said officiously, “be fruitful and multiply.”

Chapter 2: Getting started.

The room had the sterile feel of a hotel room. There were no windows, and Jolene remembered there had not been a window in the room where they had their 'orientation’.

Painfully self-consciously, both Jim and Jolene turned away from each other to remove the required garments.

When they turned to face each other, both quickly averted their eyes after a quick, curious glance. Jolene was relieved that even though Jim had removed his pants, he had the presence of mind to keep one button on his shirt closed. Thus his shirt hung down far enough to conceal his male anatomy.

Jim’s glance revealed that although her blouse was open, either she wasn’t wearing a bra (something that he had suspected when he had seen her walking around school with an eye-catching bounce) or it had been one of these open-in-the-front bras and she had already opened it. Of course, her skirt hung down revealing nothing improper.

Then, as if by mutual agreement they both sat on the sofa facing each other. The sofa was wide enough that Jim could rest his arm on the back behind Jolene’s shoulders, but there was still a small distance separating them.

Both teen were embarrassed and uncomfortable. And both were afraid to speak the first words.

Jolene couldn’t imagine how she could be in a hotel room with a boy she scarcely knew. Jolene had good grades in school, was head cheerleader, was planning to attend college. She came from a well-to-do family who lived in a good neighborhood in a big house.

She had always known she would give up her virginity someday. Having been raised with the idea of 'saving herself’ for her wedding night, she had assumed it would be when she got married. But Tom, her boyfriend, had been pressuring her during the past couple of months. Tom’s pressure had led her to question the validity of waiting and she had been seriously considering 'doing it’ with Tom.

After all, Tom had argued, the hymen was just a small piece of membrane: it’s presence or absence is totally invisible to the external eye. In fact, some girls don’t even have one. And some have lost it riding bicycles or in some other innocuous way.

And if Jolene married someone other than Tom, and virginity was important to her husband, Tom reasoned, Jolene could always assure her husband that he was the first one and her husband would never know the difference.

But now, if she was going to have a baby, virginity was really a moot point.

Jim was a relative stranger to her. She had seen him in the halls at school and they had spoken briefly, but she really knew very little about him.

'It’s not the right time of the month for me to get pregnant’, Jolene thought. But with a start she realized that apparently some time had passed since the 'disaster’, whatever the 'disaster’ had been. Undoubtedly, she was at a different place in her cycle than she remembered.

Without a word, Jim slipped the band from her head that held her hair in place. Then slowly, one at a time, he removed her hairpins, allowing her hair to fall over her shoulders. When the last pin was removed, Jolene shook her hair loose, allowing it to fall naturally over her shoulders.

Finally, Jolene looked into Jim’s eyes, her face filled with fear and concern.

“I guess we’re lab partners and we’ve been given a homework assignment,” she stated flatly. “Do you think we should start?” she asked, and, although Jim had only seen the slight movement of her arm, he felt her hand pushing his shirt aside and gently encircled his manhood. It was already erect. He was afraid. He had never done this before.

“Do you think we should?” He asked looking down.

Jolene nodded her head and looked down. Already Jim’s teenage penis was pulsing at her soft, feather-like touch.

Jolene’s boyfriend, Tom, liked it when she held him like this, although she had only held him through his pants. Now she was touching Jim’s naked penis. and apparently Jim liked it, too.

Staring at her breasts, Jim hesitantly raised his hand, but he stopped short. “Are you sure it’s all right?” he asked, unable to believe that he was being touched by the head cheerleader, the most beautiful and popular girl in class, and she was waiting, squeezing his penis ever so gently, her eyes watching his hand, her lips parted expectantly.

“I think so,” she replied, nervously glancing around the room. “Go ahead. You can touch them.” She whispered, her eyes again returning to Jim’s hand.

As gently as he could, he allowed his hand and palm to slide inside her blouse, beneath her breast as if to support it. He weighed it in his hand. She took a deep breath and her fingers surrounding his penis closed a little tighter. Jim closed his fingers around her breast, feeling its softness, and sensed her hold her breath. He wasn’t sure what to expect, He had never touched a woman’s bare breast before. Jolene’s breasts were perfectly shaped, not too large, sagging ever so slightly under the effects of gravity ('would they sag a lot more when she grew older?’ he wondered), with perfect nipples protruding slightly from tan aureoles located exactly where they should be. Her breasts were softer than Jim expected. Somehow he thought they would be firm and full, but decided that even though she was a senior in high school and had passed her 18th birthday, perhaps her body had not yet fully matured.

His fingers found her nipple and gently grasped it, squeezing very slightly.

“Oh!” She gave a surprised moan and an unexplained tingle ran up her spine. Her fingers reflexively tightened around Jim’s penis. He gently rolled the nipple, and she moaned again she gave a small whimpering sound, and again her grip tightened around his penis. She was holding him so tightly, it almost hurt, but he didn’t want to say anything.

“Am I hurting you?” Jim asked, releasing her breast and lifting his hand slightly, barely maintaining contact with her breast.

“No!” she answered immediately, and dropping his manhood, her hand flashed to Jim’s and she pressed his palm against her breast. “No, you’re not hurting me. It’s just; I don’t know,; ”

She hesitated.

“What is it?” Jim asked, sounding like he sincerely wanted to know what she was thinking.

“I’ve never felt this way before,” Jolene stammered. “Do that again. I mean, with your fingers on my nipples.”

Jim took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed.

“No; softer! They’re very sensitive! Be gentle!”

Jim rolled her nipples as gently as he could between his fingers and heard her moan, “Yes! That’s it!”

He kept rolling and her hand returned to his lap to find and grip his penis again.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” she whispered, her head leaning back against the sofa, her hand tightening around his penis.

“It; they’re sensitive.” She gave a small gasp, “and when you, uh, roll them like that, it stimulates them.” (Jim could feel the nipples growing bigger and harder between his fingers.) Jolene continued, “and it; makes me feel; funny. It makes me feel funny in other places, too!” She was breathing faster now, and so was Jim.

Jolene loved her boyfriend, Tom, and at his insistence, she had reluctantly let him touch her breasts. But he always mauled them like he was mixing meatloaf. had always been impatient and grew irritated if she asked him to be gentler or to do anything differently. Jim, on the other hand, was actually listening to her and doing what she asked him to. The difference was incredible. Although she was not in love with Jim, her body was reacting more strongly to him than it ever had with her boyfriend.

Jim changed his hold of her breast, capturing her nipple between his index and middle finger, which freed up his thumb to push back her blouse giving him a better view of those beautifully shaped teen-aged mounds. He kissed her just above the collarbone, right where her blouse met her skin. She arched her back, pressing her breast into Jim’s hand. Encouraged, he kissed her chest a little lower and again she seemed to press her chest into the kiss. Jim paused and looked up at her.

“May I kiss your;” She opened her eyes and met his. “Can I kiss;” Jim swallowed hard, trying to find the courage to speak the words.

“You can kiss my breasts. And my nipples, too. I think I’d like that. That is, if you want to!”

“I want to!” Jim replied, returning his attention toward her chest and gently brushing his lips against the flesh where the top of her breast met her chest. He changed his grip on her breast so once again, cradling her protrusion in the palm of his hand, but he still kept her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, gently rolling it. She squirmed a little, but made no attempt to pull away from him.

“It’s funny,” Jolene commented. “I always imagined sex as a nighttime thing. I never thought of having sex during the day.”

Jim nodded. “I guess you can do it anytime you wanted. I never thought about it.” Somehow, Jolene doubted that he had really never thought about it.

He kissed more of her breast and began moving his lip

Fortune Cookies and Damn Luck: Part 3

Sat, 16 Nov 2024 09:31:24 -0600

I wanted to give her what she was begging for.

Based on a post by SandyMarl, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

Rory laid flat on her back, watching the stars twinkle through the humid summer night’s sky. Rory looked like she was an artistic nude which had been sculpted out of the cream-colored limestone block underneath her. I ran my fingers through her wet hair as she spoke to me in a faraway hush. I loved the smell of her wet hair. I loved the smooth feel of her skin. I loved her little chirps, moans and squeaks as I romanced her. I loved how easy and fun she was to be with. It was a perfect summer night, a night of good fortune.

I was sexually aroused and excited to take this chance for romance further with Rory. I was nervous; what if this was as far as Rory wanted to go? If I pressed my luck too hard, would she recoil from my advances? I was between a rock and a hard place; the hard place was evident between my legs.

Rory stretched her arms over her head and with her quiet voice asked me, “Carl, why do you think this place is called Luck Creek?”

Being a bit slow on the uptake, I offered a historical guess, “It was likely named after some early settler in these here parts; probably some scruffy old dude named Jedidiah Luck homesteading here to escape his creditors.”

“I think Luck Creek is a good name, no matter how it came to be. I think it’s a good name because I think we’re lucky to be here tonight.” Rory paused after her wistful opinion, then in a shy voice Rory asked me a question while she kept her eyes looking up at the moon, “Carl, do you feel like getting lucky tonight? ‘cause I think this is a good place and a good time for that. I think it could count as one of my wishes.”

My flagging cock took notice of Rory’s words and sprung once again into a towering inferno of lust with a flush of hot blood out of my brain and rushing into my cock. I wanted her now more than ever. I wanted to mount her and have her cunny wrap around my seething rod as I pumped her hard, fucking her as she lay underneath me making me erupt in an explosion of hot sperm, blasting away forever my virginity. Oh damn yes! I wanted to get lucky tonight. Yes, I wanted to fuck away our virginity together under the full moon on a hot summer night. She was offering me the chance to take her virginity, it was an offer that my straining cock and blue balls would take in a heartbeat.

I rolled to my side and leaned over to plant a passionate kiss on her lips as I petted her forehead and carried my hand over the top of her head and damp hair. I broke off the kiss and moved my lips down her throat, intending to return to her upturned breasts where I had enjoyed myself a little earlier in the evening. Rory caught my head between both of her hands and stopped my progress. With an easy gesture she lifted my head so that I was looking into her eyes. “You know Carl, I’ve never really done this before. Will you promise to be gentle with me?”

I inched back up to give her another passionate kiss on the lips. It was a kiss of reassurance. I finished my kiss and whispered into her ear, “I promise. You just let me know how you’re doing. I’ll listen to you. I promise.”

Rory pulled my head and snapped it back to her lips as she held me tight by the temples while she tongued me as a way of thanking me for my promised approach to her first time. Rory released me and I positioned myself over her, nose to nose as she beamed a broad smile at me, brighter than the moon above us. “Carl, don’t think that I don’t want to make love with you out here, I do. Carl, I’m all melty inside my girl parts and I want you to make love to me. It’s just that I’ve heard that the first time can be painful at first for girls. I think my hymen is long gone, but I’m still a wee bit nervous - but mostly I’m really ready to try it with you. I’m all breathy and excited and bothered, but just be gentle, OK?”

I licked her ear making her squeal. I whispered, “I promise.”

With that, Rory gently guided my head with her hands and placed it between her legs as she lay flat on her back on our big stone block which tilted slightly toward the water. I knew what she wanted, and I wanted her to get just what she wanted and enjoy her good fortune. I spread her labia with two fingers from each hand. I had never seen a woman’s cunt up close and personal like this; I’d only seen these delicate parts on porn videos. The look, touch and scent of a real woman’s sexy parts was wild and intoxicating beyond expectation. Rory’s cunt was a beautiful sight. It was slippery and very moist and I lingered for a moment with my fingers holding her cunt open just so that I could freeze the view in my mind.

I wanted to remember Rory’s tight, pink cunt like this for the rest of my life. Rory inched her legs a bit wider. I could hear her snorting breaths break into the still night air as she felt my fingers trace along each side of her puffy, glistening labia. I explored her cunt’s rim with my promised gentle touch. Rory’s chest was heaving and flexing, making her tits waver with a subtle liveliness that made me want to pounce on them like a tomcat on a mouse. I inserted a finger deeper into her fleshy interior, probing and exploring the hidden mysteries of this intimate feminine world. Rory’s hips began to lift from the stone slab as her breath became labored and erratic.

I moved my finger through her slickened and silky opening, absorbing every sensation I could; her viscous wetness coating my finger, her bucking and twitching hips, her tense legs and flexing belly muscles. It was all a joy and a wonder to touch a woman like this and to be rewarded with a sound show of moans coming from this tender girl being dragged by spontaneous flinches into a new realm of her own pleasure.

I may be lacking hands-on experience, but I knew enough anatomy to be interested in hunting for and finding Rory’s clitoris. I had heard that for women, it’s all about the clit. I drew my finger out of her heated hole and dragged it with a slow upward stroke between her juicy cunt lips as I trolled Rory’s uncharted depths for that little ruby button that was the key to paradise.

Rory’s channel was filled with liquid pleasure as I waded toward the top of her crease. My finger tip stubbed against a small, firm nubbin. I ran my finger up the underside of this slippery jelly bean as Rory jolted forward with her shoulders lifting them halfway off the hard, flat surface under her. Out of carnal curiosity and the pure joy of tickling a young lady’s private parts, I rolled her thick cunny nectar around my fleshy, rigid discovery. Rory burst into rapid, hard huffing breaths as she unwound a series of moans as she writhed like a pinned serpent with her stomach muscles visibly vibrating in heated contractions. Rory collapsed flat on her back again as she flailed with her arms in spasmodic agitation as if she was trying to swat me away from engaging in cunny play.

She tensed and arched her hips, bowing above the stone surface. She cried out, “Whoa, oh, oh, oh. Gentle, easy, easy, gentle, whoa, whoa.” I feared I had been too rough with Rory’s super sensitive sex button. Keeping true to my promise, I stopped and placed my hand on her thigh.

“Rory, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to act so rough with you.” I was terrified that I had damaged her. “Did I hurt you?” I asked as I rubbed her leg in concern.

“No. No, that was good. That was really much too good. It got kind of intense. But it was amazingly good. You made me feel like hot lava was swarming out from my cunt into my insides. You were great,” she panted. “Sorry to unnerve you. I just lost control. I think I’m better now. May I have some more of that. Pretty please? With a popped cherry on top?”

“Damn. I thought I broke you.” I chuckled to myself at the mysterious ways of a woman. “So, was that an orgasm?”

Rory gave me a small bunch of quick nods as she lay recovering from orgasmic rants and pants. “Maybe it was orgasms, plural. I think I kind of lost track as I flew out of control.”

Rory waved me closer to her. I ducked my head to begin with nipple suckling, something that I was thinking that I was getting pretty good at. Rory grasped my head with both hands and redirected me toward her pussy. “You’ve been quite the gentleman tonight. Remember, slow and easy. But let me warn you, I might scream up a storm again. I’ve got a hungry, buzzy craving going on down there where you were giving me the business.” With that warming she gave a little laugh and pushed my head into her juicy crotch.

I knew what she was asking. I knew that I wanted to give her what she was begging for. I settled between her thighs, played with her labia with my fingers and opened her up to peek at her clit, the ultimate mystery spot, hidden in Rory’s inner sanctum. I put the tip of my finger on what looked like a fat, pointed eraser hiding behind tiny, pink curtains. I touched her love button and she moaned loudly, working up to another frantic scream. I watched that proud princess twitch and pulse as she grunted and writhed on her back. With my hands pressing against her inner thighs, I leaned in and began to flick her engorged clitoris with my tongue.

She immediately arched her hips and began to let out soft squeaks before she was overcome and began to be buffeted with deep moans as her hips began to bounce and grind into my tongue. I gave her long, wet licks with my tongue. She pressed the back of my head tighter into her cunt. When I alternated to pressing hard on her clitoris with my tongue and then returning to give her quick circles, she begged me, “Do it more, more, more! Please! Yes, yes,” were her soft cries and pleas.

I licked and lightly sucked the princess as Rory arched and bucked and grew restless with my tongue bath. She bent herself into a bow, holding her cunny hard against my face. I slid my hands under her bottom and squeezed her cheeks as she froze into pretzel form, legs and calves pushing her into my tongue, her shoulders pinned against the stone slab as she bellowed with a deep and extended soul-draining moan that sounded as if it was being pulled from the center of the earth. With a sharp yip, she collapsed flat on her back as she covered her face with her hands and searched for breath as her boobs bobbed in reverberation to the release of her sexual tension.

“Was that another orgasm?” I asked. I shouldn’t have asked. Rory just gave me a moan as she waved her hands to fan her sex-flushed face.

I was on pins-and-needles, revved up and horny. To hear Rory roaring during her orgasms made me want to fuck her. I wanted to ravage this writhing, naked woman who was responding so exquisitely to my licks and touches. I wanted a piece of the action. I had promised to be gentle and to listen. I had listened, and now I wanted to take her. But I’d have to do it gently.

I returned to stick my tongue in her sloppy, wet crack of crazy, carnal copulation. Rory signaled with her hand on my chin that it was time for me to stop licking her clitoris. She was barely able to speak, she was tense with sexual excitement and I could tell that her cunt had gotten very wet, and not from my own saliva, but her own excited sexual juices. Her beautiful tits with their large areola and proud nipples were heaving in the thick night air under the moonlight and she hoarsely whispered, “I need you to come inside of me. I want you so much right now Carl. I am hot and I can feel my girly juice trickling onto our love stone. I want you so much. I want you to take me and have me as my first lover. It is my wish and my desire.”

“Rory you are so hot and sexy right now. I want you so bad. I will be gentle. I’m going to fuck you now. Are you ready for me?”

“I am so ready to be fucked by my lover. I want this. It is a wish come true. Yes, come fuck me.”

Rory watched me from her back as I adjusted my position. I wanted to ease into her gently. I wanted to have her hot, feminine flesh tube take me in and envelop me in our united passion. As I pushed her knees apart, Rory made a request. “I want you to come at the same time with me. When I reach my orgasmic peak, can you stroke that long and thick periscope of yours to make all of that semen abandon ship at the same time I climax?”

“As you wish,” I said with a smile, hoping I could coordinate our climaxes. It might be too much to ask for our first time at this, but I was not willing to admit to my doubt at this point. I was going to try, reasoning that the bitterest of regrets fall not upon those who try but fail, but on those who fail to try.

With a pleading ache in her voice, Rory begged, “Oh Carl, I need you to come inside me. Please make love to me.”

Rory bent her knees, putting her soles flat on the smooth stone surface of our rough-hewn altar to love, an altar where we were about to sacrifice our virginity. It was a grand moment for each of us, Rory tensed with excitement and perhaps a tinge of foreboding as she had already expressed her concern about some pain during my penetration. I pushed her knees a bit wider and stroked her taut skin up to her hips. Rory watched my moves intently, giggling nervous giggles as my hands arrived at the entrance of her love chamber. I noticed her hands ball into fists, “Relax Rory, I promise I’ll be gentle and listen to you.”

“I know, I know. This is better than Christmas. I’m nervous and excited; I want you to come into me Carl. Oh I wish, I wish, I wish,” she cooed, yet kept her fists clenched.

I held my inflexible cock in my left hand as I balanced with my right hand planted next to Rory’s side. I aimed my spear at the furry target before me; inching closer to her while I held my cock and guided it between her succulent labia. I manipulated my pole up and down the vertical pink opening, bathing him in Rory’s glorious nectar without forcing my smoldering rod too deep or too fast into her secret depths.

Rory held her breath while I played in the shallows at her cave’s entrance. Back and forth, up and down I moved my stiff member, teasing her cunny and letting her anticipate the coming, cherry-popping penetration. I played with her steamy opening, brushing my cock in and out of her feminine folds longer than she had the capacity to hold her breath. Rory had become so overloaded with the buildup for this moment that she had forgotten to breathe, until her lack of oxygen intake was made obvious by her suffocated lungs.

Rory’s chest burst with a mighty exhalation, panting with leaden breaths as if she had finished a sprint. Breathing heavy, she tipped her head back and closed her eyes. Her shoulders were arched, exposing her throat as it gulped in the intoxicating atmosphere and thrust her tits with her large, dark nipples into the air. She whimpered in anticipation of her exalted, heated passion as I primed her cunny with my solid cylinder of heated blue steel. I watched her squirm and her breasts rise and fall in quick succession. I wished I had a hundred hands to fondle her tits, caress her ass, stroke her cheeks, play with her hair and touch her body everywhere at once.

I eased into her cunt with a gentle and smooth motion, halting before I got too far, checking my lover for any signs of discomfort. I released the grip on my shaft. I was ready to free fuck my little fortune cookie, but I held my position suspended between her thighs for a moment to make sure I was doing it the right way, or at least the way I thought Rory wanted to be penetrated. As I paused in my penetration, Rory swept her arms over my shoulder and pulled her knees back part way to her chest, sticking her feet into the air as she sang out in short, high-pitched barking noises.

I stayed partially submerged in her pool of pleasure, looking into her face with her eyes shut tight, “How is that?”

Through a clenched jaw she answered, “It’s not so bad.”

In a surprise move, Rory launched her pelvis upward, forcing my cock further into her tight, wet wedge without me moving a muscle. She bounced up and down to greet my meat, grinding and groaning. I could hold back no longer and plunged into her cunt with a hearty thrust. Rory shrieked and dug her fingers into my shoulder blades. I gave her another sharp, scooping thrust driving as far back into her sexy cavern as I could reach. Her cunt muscles clench my love muscle, providing encircling, enraptured pleasure as I lunged in and out of Rory’s honey pot. Rory kicked her feet in the air and brought them around my lower back as she clung tight to my shoulders, sinking her nails into my skin as I pounded her harder and faster.

In shallow, gasping breaths all that she could say was “Yes, yes yes.”

“Are you close to your climax?” I managed to ask. Within my own loins I knew that I was close to climaxing. The overwhelming erotic contraction scrunching my balls and the scalding desire to inseminate this plush cunt wrapped around my smoldering cock grew like a boiling tsunami in my balls as I strained and willed myself to keep from exploding.

I sensed she was getting tense throughout her body; her head, shoulders, knees and toes. Her sexual tension that I detected must be pulling her body tight like this, it was an unspoken sign that this woman was nearing another grand orgasm. With other-worldly sounding sighs she mumbled, “I feel I am really close. I’m climbing higher and higher, oh god I am on the edge!”

I pounded her hard, using the few strokes I had left in me before I was ripped apart by my own urges to erupt with a thunderous explosion. There was a tightly wound coil behind my cock, twisted and contorted with carnal desires and years of frustration. I bore my virginity with disappointment and bitter unfulfilled dreams, having lusted for girl after girl but never made it with one of them. My long-simmering need to dive into a cunt was winding my internal coiled sex-spring of desire tighter with each hungry thrust I made into her moist offering. I was concentrating on my sensation of a compressed and powerful coil embedded in my gut, knowing that in an instant this high sexual tension would be released in a rush of anguished gratification. I didn’t know exactly what would happen when it did happen, or if I could handle it. The forces building inside me were so great, mysterious and irrevocable.

With what seemed like great difficulty, Rory managed to choke out a few words between low and long moans; “Watch me. I am about to come. Watch me; I am so close to the edge!” Rory’s words were followed by a pitter-patter series of grunts.

My rapid humping of her cunt pushed her into the throes of a shaking crescendo, Rory pushed me on my chest and roared, “Oh do it now! Cum on me Carl!”

I was at the end of my tightly stretched rope and my ability to control myself any longer. With a last deep and glorious dip, I jabbed her with my final and most furious fuck. I pulled away from the sloppy, squishy sex sounds we were making in the moonlight and grunted as I gave myself the final fulfilling hand stroke, unleashing all that pent-up desire in my balls and loins, ready to heave my glorious seed in indulgent, gluttonous contentment.

Rory encouraged me, saying, “Yes, yes, yes. You come and g

Fortune Cookies and Damn Luck: Part 2

Fri, 15 Nov 2024 09:31:17 -0600

My admission of my inexperience.

Based on a post by SandyMarl, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

Far from mocking me, this young woman seemed to be encouraging me. Understanding that I could trust Rory with my secrets gave me a feeling of protective invincibility toward her. A heavy weight evaporated from my gut, I felt weightless and ready to float away to heaven. We were enchanted with one another and enchanted by the giddy possibility of tonight’s potential. Potential to go to new places with one another, places which neither of us had been able to reach in our earlier, awkward younger days.

The strong tug of my sensual male desire was undeniable as Rory sat partially undressed in the silver light of the moon, but equally undeniable for me was a sudden, overwhelming sweet intimacy that swept over me as I looked at her, mixing lust with affection. I wanted to ravage her. I wanted to possess her and sweep her away to be all mine.

“Carl, you’re standing there like a silly goose in the moonlight. Didn’t you once promised a girl to combine your cookie fortune with hers. But sir, both of those intriguing fortunes are still dangling out there unfulfilled as the full moon rises.” Rory humphed again in her unique way, a cute idiosyncrasy of which I was growing quite fond. “And here I sit, a girl half undone, waiting for her wishes to be fulfilled under the full moon. Didn’t you once tell a young lady that the bitterest of regrets come from a failure to try, not from trying but failing?”

I laughed at hearing my own contrived wisdom being quoted back to me. “I am fortunate to have such a wise and beautiful young lady sitting before me under a full moon. Thanks for not snickering at my admission of my inexperience.”

With a new found confidence and a growing sense of naughty adventurousness I took a bow, dipping my head and sweeping my arms wide with upturned palms as if I were in a position to grant Rory her request, “As you wish. Let us not risk the calamity that befalls those who ignore the voice of a stale cookie.” Any hesitancy or awkwardness vanished in the moonlight as the promise of good sexy fun began to unfold before us moonstruck flirts.

Rory gave a little giggle and threw her shoulders forward and pulled off her bra and handed it to me. I folded it in half and laid it on top of her folded blouse and shorts. I was stunned. A cute girl who was my accidental dinner date about two hours ago had just bared her beautiful breasts to me with unabashed glee. I was charmed. I was throbbing and stiff. The sight of her perfect pair of white breasts seemed all the whiter and purer in contrast to her silver dollar sized dark areolas spreading like a deep moon shadow, nearly covering the whole tip of her wondrous orbs.

Rory folded her hands behind her head and gave a little shimmy to her shoulders, wagging her tits in a playful private show for me. The wiggle and jiggle of Rory’s teasing with her magnificent, curved feminine forms undid me. I gulped and locked my knees to brace myself against the sudden instability that buckled my legs and loins. The mesmerizing power of Rory’s bare breasts under the full moon drove me into a state of crazed lunacy. I wish that I could say that I used a suave, debonair motion toward my beckoning little mermaid, but I think the reality was more like a swoon, catching my fall as I dropped next to a topless Rory seated on her quarried block.

I scooted my hips next to Rory’s bottom and reached over to run my hand through her wavy hair draped over her left shoulder. Rory stiffened her spine, bowing her shoulders back so that her breasts presented full and firm as she kept her gaze out over the dark water. Rory seized a quick, sipping gulp of air the instant I touched her neck. Her breaths became rapid, her breasts heaved in the humid darkness as she studied the moonlight playing on the glassy surface of our secluded Dam Luck swimming hole. Rory’s head was motionless while I caressed the nape of her neck and watched her breasts rise and fall with profound gratitude for this girl who had serendipitously fallen in with me.

My turbulent sexual excitement grew as I realized my good fortune to be alone with her this evening. I moved my fingers across her shoulder and let them fall along the slope of her upper breast as I pressed my lips to her ear and took tiny nibbles with my lip-covered teeth. Rory rewarded me with tremorous yips as the pace of her breathing quickened and she slumped into my side. I touched the tip of my wet tongue into her ear, bringing an escaping series of quick sighs from Rory’s throat, having burst free from the pent up frozen breaths inside her chest. I traced my fingertips along the curvature of her smooth breast, crossing the dark moon shadow surrounding her pert, taut, upturned nipple and gave her rigid berry a little squeeze. With a loud, low moan Rory shuddered and slumped into my chest.

With a quick twist, Rory sprung around to face me, her hands flew to my head’s side, grabbing my ears and holding me tight as she planted her lips against mine with a fierce and passionate peck. She held my head in a tight embrace as she mauled my mouth with greedy, spasmodic movements as she hummed and whimpered through her messy process of devouring my kisses. She was hungry and greedy, and a great kisser.

I kept my hands on Rory’s warm, smooth and fascinating breasts the best I could while I thrilled to the new and untold pleasure of a woman’s passionate kisses galloping across my face. I cupped my hands under Rory’s titties, falling in lust with the feel of their heft as they rested in my palms, so smooth, curvy and sexy. The tender touch of a woman’s bare breast was an exquisite dream come true after years of lustful imagining.

With slow, sensuous petting I let my fingers crawl back to her hard nipples. I was gasping in sexual exhilaration as I pinched her spongy tissue between thumb and forefinger, exploring her with small tugs on her nips before I released them. I palmed them once again, lifting them in my hands like a silken sack of precious rubies. I was beside myself in a prickly, tickling buzz of sexual excitement. I got a light grip on her nipples, one in each hand, and I gently pulled them both at the same time, making Rory sweep her hands behind my head and pull me tight to her as she shot her tongue between my lips and teeth.

My first French kiss. It was sloppy, slippery, hot, steamy wet and oh so glorious. Our tongues battled back and forth, first Rory subduing my tongue, only to be counter attacked by my hot tongue forcing itself into her mouth where they twisted and tangled like a pair of mating serpents. We moaned and mauled one another as our arms and hands flailed up and down heads, necks, backs and chests. We were both getting dizzy, in part because of our mutual need for air; so we broke our impassioned lips apart and ceased our moonlight madness for a moment.

I was panting and stroking Rory’s skin and petting her breasts, watching her to see what might happen next. After a moment, I reached up to brush Rory’s cheek, she took a deep breath and wrapped her arm around my shoulder and whispered to me, “Wow. I never felt anything like that before. I’m addicted to you now; like there was a drug in my fortune cookie.”

I gave Rory a hug, “Yeah Rory, that was sweet for me too, and spicy, like a Wok and Roll red plate special. I hope you’re not settling for just a make out session; because as I recall, my fortune said something about finding pleasure across the water tonight, and we have yet to cross the water.” I nodded my head toward the pool a few feet from where we sat.

Rory gave me one of her humfs, “And as I recall, my fortune said something about my wishes being fulfilled under the full moon. And I think just maybe there are a few unfulfilled wishes yet to be granted to me before this big ol’ moon sets on us out here at Dam Luck.”

I stood and pressed my hands together in front of my face and bowed deeply toward Rory, saying “A-so.” This made Rory laugh at our inside joke.

Peeking at Rory’s flowered panties with a mischievous grin, I said, “Now, it is time to pick some roses. Tell me now if there are any thorns I should know about.”

Rory humphed, “I am horny, not thorny.”

I stood silent and motionless looking over at her tits from under my eyelids. Rory leaned back, bracing herself with her arms out behind her, allowing me the pleasure of admiring her moonlit mounds topped by the magnetic charm of her brassy areolas at the base of her perfect nipples. I held my stance, not moving, just breathing in the jasmine scented air with loud inhalations. Rory continued to recline in a seductive manner as my eyes scanned her over and over in the stillness of the evening warmth. I stared at her hard nipples with a long and intense gaze. Rory sat still as the silence between us drew out into a long, aching quiet.

I was aware of my erection. It was a hot iron extending down my right inner thigh, straining with immense force against my underwear. It jerked in tiny, involuntary little spasms at the erotic sight of Rory’s glistening tits displayed in a provocative and inviting pose on the old stone block. The silence stretched out for several more awkward moments, until Rory broke into a girlish giggle as she tossed her hair over her shoulder with a taunting shake of her titties in an effort to break my locked-in, lusting look. Her girlish giggle broke the spell under which her feminine charms had ensnared me. With the playful hint, I stepped toward Rory. She held still as she watched me come stand in front of her and she let out a nervous giggle once again.

I leaned in toward her reclined form, placing my hands next to her hips. I could feel the slinky fabric of her panties against my wrists as I moved my lips to her nose. I gave her a little smooch and then touched the tip of her nose with the tip of my tongue. Rory closed her eyes and drew in a large breath. I followed with another light kiss to her nose, then dropped my lips to hers for a lingering kiss that I held for a long time as Rory’s moist breaths pushed from her nostrils onto my upper lip. With a slinky, slow motion, I parted my lips to let my tongue hunt for her wet mouth. Like a python in search of its prey, I slipped between her lips, easing under her teeth and found her waiting for me. We tangled tongues once again. I came at her flicking and probing her hard teeth, her firm and slippery palette and the succulent, fleshy tongue inflamed by hot breaths rising from her belly. I gave Rory a couple more quick flicks with my tongue and withdrew from her mouth, hunting for more supple flesh.

I gave Rory a kiss on her chin. She threw her head back with eyes closed, exposing her throat in an impassioned pose of surrender. I nibbled, suckled and licked my way down her arched throat as Rory removed the support of her arms and laid flat on her back. I held my lips on her flesh as she adjusted herself, giving her my soft licks and nibbles, eliciting rolling murmurs of pleasure from the woman beneath me.

I let my tongue continue to travel lower, leaving a wet trace from the tip of her nose to the middle of her ribs where her cleavage began. I balanced over my lady as she twitched and squirmed under the teasing touched of my tongue. With heightened anticipation from both above and below, I nuzzled into her right breast as it rose like a beautiful beacon in the light of an early summer’s moon.

With the first touch of my face against her breast, Rory raised her hands to her cheeks, holding her face in her palms as she sighed out deep sounds of bliss from between her covering hands. The soft sounds of Rory’s sensual enjoyment stirred me to go for the intimacy which I had often dreamed of; my lips encircled her erect nipple. I closed my eyes as I rolled my tongue over her, taking in every little bump and dip on the surface of her erotic pebble with every sensitive nerve I could employ on my tongue’s tip. Rory offered tiny little squeaks as I played with her between my lips.

This was the most wondrous experience in my life. The experience of having a cute young lady willingly offer me this kind of intimate nuzzle with her breasts made me want to howl at the moon. I licked and sucked her right breast; it was such amazing fun, that I found myself wanting to try her left breast. I slid my tongue around her nipple and off to her other waiting twin. It was almost as much fun as the first. Rory simpered and moaned the whole time, keeping me uncomfortably stiff and making me crazy as I listened to her purring sex sounds. Her chest was covered with my spit; I was drooling over her when I straightened up to take an appreciative look at the banquet spread out before me.

“Now, about this rose garden, ” I hovered over her belly with my arms straight at her sides as

Rory remained on her back. At my question, Rory raised her legs into the air up along my sides. I stepped back, took another admiring look at the girl before I let my desires carry me away. I plunged back between her up stretched legs, rolling my open hands up her legs until I reached the lacey waistband circling her hips. I slipped my fingers under the fabric at each hip and worked her panties off of her, slipping them off over her thighs, knees and ankles until they were but a trophy bouquet of flowery sweet nothings wadded up in my fingers. I unwadded her dainties and folded them up nice and placed them in the pile on top of her bra and street clothes.

Rory sat up, crossed her legs with a last vestige of modesty, hiding her cunny below a thick bush of dark hair that made an erotic contrast with her alabaster skin. The view of her pubic hair visible about her demurely crossed thighs gave my pole a jolt as if I was about to cream my shorts. Rory then asked in a shy tone, “What do you think?”

“I’m feeling, not thinking right now,” was my best answer.

With a broad grin, but still in a shy voice, Rory asked, “Well Carl, what are you feeling then?”

“I’m feeling quite fortunate to be with you right now. I am feeling sort of fizzy. I feel like this is the most fun I ever had, ”

Rory interrupted my stammering attempts at explaining my chaotic feelings, “, that is, ‘the most fun you’ve ever had - with your clothes on’, isn’t that how that trite phrase goes?”

I laughed an embarrassed laugh as she hinted at the stark disparity in our state of dress.

“Tell me Carl, what else are you feeling right now?” Rory asked as she deliberately dropped her eyes to my crotch where I knew my erect cock was pounding out a prominent profile in my shorts. “Hmm? You can tell me, what are you really feeling?”

It was my turn to be a little shy and modest; I hesitated to explain my man manifestations to a girl. But I had just undressed her and run my hands and tongue over much of her naked body; I owed this naked lady a truthful explanation. “I am feeling really aroused right now. You are stunningly beautiful and very easy to enjoy, both in company and in body. Rory, I can’t help it, I have a hot and throbbing boner inside my pants 'cause of you. I’m feeling pretty horny to tell the truth.”

Rory let out with a squeaky chortle as she covered her mouth in mock surprise as I bared the truth to her. Rory dropped her hands from in front of her mouth and crossed her arms in front of her chest; “You know what I’m feeling right now Carl? I’m feeling kind warm and sticky; actually rather hot and bothered in this humid night air. I’m feeling ready for a little skinny dipping adventure. A swim across the waters, as it were.”

“Excellent observation. Would you care to join me my dear as I seek to find pleasure across the waters tonight?”

“If I joined you in your search for pleasure across the water, do you think that I might have my wishes fulfilled under the full moon?” Rory was sounding quite frisky as she held to the directives found in our fortune cookies.

“I can assure you my lady, I will do all that is in my power to see to it that your wishes, whatever they may be, are fulfilled under this lovely full moon above us.”

“ - In bed?” Rory added.

We laughed together at her added phrase which began as a flirty, fun little oddity which she had introduced me to at the restaurant; and was now seeming to foretell a possible steamy, entangling encounter where we would both lose our virginity on the shore of Dam Luck.

“Carl, chop, chop! You’ve got your surprise date all undressed and nowhere to go. Fulfill one of my full moon wishes and drop your trousers young man. Chop, chop!”

Rory leaned back on the large stone and watched me as I pulled my shirt over my head and easily undid my shorts and dropped them to the ground. I turned my back to Rory and bent over and untied my sneakers and took off my socks. “Oh look! I see there is a full moon tonight. It’s a fortunate girl who get to enjoy what is coming into view,” observed my audience of one in a playful and excited voice.

Rory motioned for me to come a step closer to her, where she eagerly pulled my underwear down to my knees. No surprise, I had a huge boner spring up to salute her. Rory wrapped a hand around my erect poker and said, “This guy looks pretty happy to see me, I am so glad you didn’t just have a banana in your pocket.”

Rory inspected my soldier with a curious look as she used the tips of her fingers to test the rigid shaft and run her fingers over the fleshy, red hot end of my cock with a couple of exploratory squeezes, just like I’d done when I first touched her nipples. I stood at attention, soaking in the attention of Rory’s light fondling of my branding iron. Rory raised her head to look into my face as she stroked me, at first letting her fingers traipse down the top of my shaft, then returning to the sensitive head before gliding over the tip and stroking the underside of my boner. “Is it all right if I touch your balls Carl?” I nodded my head in ascent, feeling too hypersensitive to converse with words. Rory petted my nuts with the lightest of touches, waving her palm over my tightened scrotum, brushing my bristling pubic hairs. I could feel every follicle rise to her intimate touch.

“Do you like it when I do that?” I again offered a wordless, but vigorous nod in answer to her question while I took shallow, labored breaths.

“Um, me too,” she whispered in a sulky voice. Rory rolled her fingers around the girth of my shaft and began to slide her grip up and down the length of my erection. “Is it all right if I do this?” She asked as she studied my face, which was radiating immeasurable bliss.

I spoke, “That feels delightful. But I don’t think I will last very long if you keep that up. I’m really hot and horny. I don’t know if I can control myself much longer; I’m afraid you’ll make me cum before we really get started.”

“Should I stop touching you this way, at least for now?”

I sighed, not wanting her to stop, but not wanting to cum too early and disappoint her and make her feel unsatisfied with me as a lover. She was my first lover and I was hers. She deserved more than a quickie from me, I owed her that. We were going to remember this night at Dam Luck for the rest of our lives; I wanted to make

Fortune Cookies and Damn Luck: Part 1

Thu, 14 Nov 2024 09:32:02 -0600

An accidental date and two fortune cookies lead to romance.

Based on a post by SandyMarl, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, 2010

Amanda was the kind of friend who was always full of great ideas. But; Amanda was not the kind of friend who always followed through on her great ideas.

Amanda posted one of her great ideas after final exams; “Hey everyone! If you’re staying in town over the summer, let’s all get together for Chinese food. 2Nite at 6. Be at that little hole-in-the-wall across town, The Wok and Roll. C U there!”

I had a Tuesday lab with Amanda and shared several classes with her, so I thought I’d likely know some of the others in Amanda’s circle. Perhaps it was time to stretch my boundaries with some new acquaintances, since most of my closer mates had other plans for the summer and had just left town. Starting the summer with an informal night of sharing Chinese food after finishing exams, that sounded like a great plan to start my senior year - I certainly didn’t have any better ideas.

I drove up to the Wok and Roll. I arrived early, not wanting to be late, but then I kicked myself for being too early. I walked into the little restaurant, a converted small, old house and selected a table that I hoped would be large enough to seat all of Amanda’s friends, once they arrived. I told the proprietress that I was waiting for a few more before we all ordered. She asked, “How many?” I said I didn’t know. That earned me a dismissive glower.

I waited, checked the time, and waited. Then I doubted that I was at the right place. I rechecked Amanda’s message. I was at the right place. Why am I always the fool who gets stood-up by girls that do not follow through with their plans?

While I was wondering if I should leave, the proprietress looked at me frequently as if I was up to no good. I watched an old car pull into the parking lot, telling myself that if this was not Amanda or one of her friends, I’d call it quits. I’d slink away from the hostile glare of the Chinese proprietress and order a greasy cheeseburger and a strawberry shake somewhere else. It’d be another dinner for one. It’d be my reward for my trouble and it might take the edge off the bitter taste of my gullibility.

I recognized the woman who stepped out of the car and walked through the door. She was a year behind me, she had a couple of classes with me and Amanda. I struggle with names, but I remembered her name, Rory. As she stepped inside, she looked around the vacant room with hesitation. She did not seem to see me, or at any rate recognize me sitting at the large table across the room. I lifted my arm and made a gesture that was not overly familiar, but enough of a movement to catch her eye. She looked at me, but her expression was somewhat blank and I thought I recognized some disappointment recorded in her blankness as well. I stood and stepped toward Rory and introduced myself, “Good evening, I’m Carl, one of Amanda’s friends, ”

Rory let the corners of her mouth turn up a bit as she brushed her wavy, light brown hair off her shoulder, “I know that,” interrupting me in mid introduction. I couldn’t tell if she meant that to be dismissive as if she felt insulted, or if she meant it more as ‘yes, happy to see you here’.

I pulled a chair out from the large table as a gesture to seat her. She threw her elbows up on the table and waited for me to be seated across from her and then commented, “Well, quite the gentleman this evening.” Again, I could not be sure if she was somehow insulted and was being dismissive of my gesture of best-intentions or whether I’d perhaps lucked into a good social start for the evening. I hoped it was the latter and planned to pretend as if that was the case, whether it really was what she was thinking, or not.

Rory swiftly threw her head from side-to-side to cast her glance around the Wok and Roll dining room and then folded her arms on the table top and asked, “How many did Amanda invite?”

I shrugged, “She seems to have invited three and I fear that the third person lost the invitation.”

“The third person being Amanda, right?” Rory looked at me as if to confirm that I’d made a joke, or perhaps checking to see if I was just that clueless.

I broke into a smile, feeling it was now necessary to laugh or at least smile at my own humor. Rory then laughed with me, not at me. I continued, “If you’ve got better information, I’d love to hear it.”

“I got nothing. Other than this is so typical of Amanda!” Rory smirked and shook her head in a dismissive gesture of exasperation at Amanda’s no-show.

“They say, two out of three ain’t bad. At least that’s what I’ve always heard.” I took a sideways look at the girl across from me, “And this time I’d have to agree with 'em. May I buy you dinner tonight?” I asked with what I hoped was a winning smile and not something creepy.

Rory smiled again, “Well, quite the gentleman this evening,” was her answer. Rory dropped her head and looked across the large table, “What are you going to have?”

I paused, pressed my open palms together in front of my lips and closed my eyes for a moment, I then reopened them. With a deadpan expression I said, “Your name is Rory, right?” She nodded with a quizzical look. “If I am not mistaken, that is an old and venerable Chinese name from the Wu Tang Dynasty of the 11th Century. Why don’t you order for the both of us?”

I could see she didn’t know how to take that offbeat suggestion. She asked in an honestly confused voice, “Are you serious? Because if you are, you are mistaken.”

“Oh, my apologies; did I say 11th Century? I meant to say 12th Century, thanks for catching that! However, I am most certain that Rory is a most honorable name from China.”

Rory now caught my jest and pressed her palms together and brought them up in front of her lips and said, “A-so” as she nodded her head.

I remarked, “Your fluency in Japanese is making me hungry for Chinese food.” I hit my hand on the table in a chopping motion and told her, “Chop chop! Order us some Chinese food, most honorable Miss Rory.”

She laughed out loud and replied, “As you wish.”

The dour proprietress was satisfied to finally take our order. At Rory’s request, she brought us chopsticks. “You did say 'chop chop’, isn’t this what you wanted?” She asked as she picked a piece of Mu Shu Pork off of my plate. She then parried my chopsticks with hers as I reached toward her meal as I tried to remove a piece of Mongolian shrimp from her plate. It was an evening of chopstick wars and a source of some consternation from the severe proprietress lurking with a jaundiced eye behind the counter.

We received our fortune cookies after I paid the tab. I offered Rory her pick of the two cookies. She selected hers and then waited for me to peel the cellophane wrapper from my cookie. Rory leaned across the table with an intent stare and cleared her throat as if she had something serious to announce. “Carl, you must follow the ancient tradition of the Wu Tang Dynasty when eating your fortune cookie. You have to read your fortune aloud to me, and you must insert the phrase 'in bed’ at the end of the fortune.” She tried to not break character, but I detected a smile in her eyes as she introduced this ancient Chinese custom to the end of our meal.

“What about you and your fortune?” I asked playfully indignant.

“A gentleman will not make a lady reveal her fortune, especially 'in bed’. It is a lady’s prerogative to read her fortune to a gentleman, only if she so chooses. Besides, it has been an old Chinese custom since the 11th or 12th Century, the height of the Wu Tang Dynasty.” Rory humphed with a coy tone.

“Okie dokie, Carl; read me your fortune.” My accidental dinner date waited with a twisted pair of lips as she encouraged me to play her flirty little game.

I cracked open the cookie and pulled out the tiny strip of paper and red aloud, “A trip across the water will bring you pleasure.” I put the tiny fortune into my shirt pocket.

“No! I told you how to read it right. Read it again, this time like you mean it,” she insisted with a firm and devilish smile in her eyes and voice.

“A trip across the water will bring you pleasure tonight, in bed”.

“Here! Let me see that!” She snatched the fortune paper from my breast pocket. “You added the word 'tonight’ and it doesn’t say that. What are you trying to do by adding 'tonight’?” Rory asked with a sly lilt to her suspicious voice and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

I defended myself with an indignant response, “And what my lady are you trying to do by making me add 'in bed’?”

Rory’s only response was a pause and then another humph sound, delivered in what I thought might have been interpreted as a 'come hither and try me’ tone.

Rory raised a regal eyebrow and informed me, “OK, I am going to let you hear my fortune: 'Your wishes will be fulfilled under the full moon, in bed’. Carl, you understand it was my prerogative to let you hear my fortune, do you not?”

“Yes, I do understand that. Now. Thanks for sharing your fortune with me.” I leaned back in my chair, enjoying a growing sense of ease around my dinner mate. I returned my elbows to the table and folded my hands under my chin, “I have a question. Rory, how good are you at interpreting someone’s fortune?”

Rory shimmied her shoulders and dropped the corners of her mouth in a smug expression, “I think of myself as a gal who understands and takes opportunities for fortune when they are presented. By the way, what phase is the moon tonight?”

I took a risk. “There’s a full moon out in the sky tonight,” I told her with confidence. I was unaware of the moon’s phase, but I assured her it was a full moon. I lucked out. I discovered later that it so happened to be a full moon that night. It was damn good luck.

She threw her long hair back over her chair and said, “A-so” in a thoughtful way. I thought I detected some mental calculations flickering behind her bright eyes.

Rory asked, “Carl, where are you going to be able to find pleasure by crossing the waters tonight?”

I said, “I am feeling fortunate this night. Would you like to marry our fortunes together? If so, I have a plan.”

Rory cocked her head, and slowly asked, “What, kind, of plan?”

I responded in a matter-of-fact manner, “I have kind of a daring plan compatible with our mutual fortunes. But I must warn you, I fear we are tempting fate in a dreadful way if we don’t do exactly as our fortunes dictate. I fear it’d be a terrible catastrophe if we did not follow what these cookies tell us to do. I wouldn’t want to risk bad fortune. Would you?”

I could see Rory was curious about my plan. She squirmed in her seat as she folded her arms across her chest while she considered my proposition. “Would a girl be risking a bad fortune if she did not follow the advice given to her by a stale cookie at the Wok and Roll?” Her question to me seemed to be searching for encouragement; her eyes begged for a reason for her to agree to my undisclosed plan of our joined fortunes.

“You know, there is an ancient Chinese proverb; the bitterest of regrets falls not on those who try and fail; but on those who fail to try.” I impressed even myself with that one. I congratulated myself, that was damn clever thinking dude. I just might be on a roll. I continued, “A good ol’ American proverb might add; nothing risked, nothing gained.”

It seemed like Rory didn’t need all that much persuading. “Okay, I guess that old stale cookie has my best interests at heart. To not follow the advice to fulfill my wishes under the full moon might be inviting bitter regrets. Is that how I should interpret my fortune?” Rory seemed like she’d made up her mind as a confident grin crept across her lips.

I added, “This is your chance, the next full moon may not come around for a very long time. Like maybe seventeen years.”

She laughed, “Don’t overplay your good fortune Carl. I know I only have to wait another four weeks for the next full moon; but I agree, I don’t want to risk it by waiting any longer.” Rory tucked her souvenir fortune into her purse. “I’ll find that someday when I clean this thing out and I’ll try and remember if my fortune came true. I’ll wonder, were my wishes fulfilled under the full moon?” Then she turned her head and mumbled almost out of earshot, “, in bed.”

Rory sat straight and with some spunk in her voice asked, “So, how does this plan to seek our mutual fortunes begin Carl?”

I agreed to follow Rory as she dropped off her old car at her place and then she climbed into the passenger seat of my pickup. She looked over at me and asked, “So, your fortune says a trip across the water, Where do you think you will find water to cross?”

I told Rory, “Sit tight. You might have to use your imagination a little for this plan to work.”

She reflected a second, then allowed, “I can be pretty good at imagining. Try me.”

I drove across town and headed outside the city limits on a small county road. A few miles beyond the edge of town I said to her, “There! Did you see that?”

“No. What?”

“We just crossed over a bridge! And do you know what was below that bridge?”

In a somewhat deflated voice, she asked, “What?”

I chuckled a little, “There was a river below that bridge that we just crossed over.”

“I am not impressed. Are you telling me that it brought you 'pleasure’ to bring us across this rinky-dinky bridge; crossing over a river that’s likely a dry one this time of year at that?”

“So, Rory, are you telling me that that doesn’t count as part of my fortune for tonight?”

“Actually, I was expecting a little more.”

“Glad to hear that. That was just a tease.”

As we drove up the rising road about a quarter mile on the other side of the bridge, I slowed and pulled the truck over to the shoulder.

Rory asked, “Carl? Is there something wrong with the truck?”

“No,” I told her, “I’m looking for a small dirt road, not much more than a rutted trail really.” I flipped on my high beams and trolled slowly along the shoulder until I saw the limestone boulders off to the side that marked the spot that I was looking for. I turned off the paved road and steered onto the rutted tracks that went around the stone blocks placed to prohibit access to a rough dirt road. We bumped along for a short ways and Rory said nothing. I stopped on a small flat spot on the hillside and turned off the engine and set the parking brake.

Rory asked, “Where are we?”

I replied, “What, you don’t recognize this place? This is just where the cookie told me to come tonight.” I quipped, “That’s the way the cookie crumbles; I think I red that in a fortune cookie once.”

My mystified passenger snorted, “That was a pretty lame joke.”

I acknowledged, “Yeah that was low humor. May my low humor be in contrast to your high expectations. Shall we, ?” I opened my door and met Rory in front of the truck.

I took Rory’s hand as we stepped sideways down a rough and rocky ravine below my parked truck, inching carefully down the hill in the dusk until we intersected a gravel road at the base of the slope. We followed the road for a couple of hundred feet where it disappeared into a pool of water. The full moon was just beginning to rise, illuminating the calm, dark surface of this secluded little lake. In the moonlight we could see trees fifty yards on the far side of the water.

Rory stood gazing across the small lake, turning to me she said, “I didn’t even know there was a lake way out here in the country. Carl, you surprise me.”

I explained, “Its existence is a guarded secret, so don’t tell a soul. The lake was formed by a rancher who dammed a tributary to that river we crossed over, the one that you found to be unimpressive. The dam flooded an old limestone quarry next to the creek, making this hidden swimming hole pretty deep somewhere out beyond the shore. This tributary is named Luck Creek, and this secret swimming hole behind that rancher’s dam is known to us chosen few as 'Dam Luck’.” We stood in silence, shoulder-to-shoulder, peering across the moonlit surface under the humid air of an early summer’s eve.

Without turning to look at Rory, I said, “Well, my lady, here is our water, just as it was foretold by my cookie. Are you a good swimmer?”

Without a hint of surprise at my question, she offered, “I’ve got an old Red Cross Lifesaving card in my purse. Do you need to see it?”

“I’ll take you at your word. Maybe you’ll have to resuscitate me if I get into trouble.” And then I bumped into her hip with mine. “Did you bring your swimsuit Rory?”

“Yeah, but it is too much trouble to put it on.”

My jaw dropped. I said, “Seriously, you have a swimsuit with you?”

“Didn’t I just tell you it is too much trouble?” And then she returned the favor by bumping her hip into mine with a wink that I could not catch in the darkness, but she clicked her tongue audibly indicating she had just thrown me a sly wink.

I stuck my hands in my pockets and casually said “It is a pretty warm night tonight, would you care to take a little dip? You know, it’d give me pleasure if you’d swim with me across the water to those trees on the shore over there.”

“Oh but sir, my clothes would get so awfully wet if I went swimming with you now. Oh my! What’s a good girl to do?” I was pretty sure Rory was leading me on. I liked it.

I mused, “Come to think of it, so would mine. By golly you are damn right about that!”

“It looks like damn luck for you then, doesn’t it Carl?” The clever woman standing at my side sounded as if she was about to call it quits unless I came up with a solution for her. She waited in the dark for me to make a proposal. If I was going to convince her to take a dip with me without her swimsuit, I was going to have to make a compelling case; though she just may be acting coy. If I made a reasonable offer, just maybe she’d agree to skinny dip under the full moon. Rory stood with her arms folded in front of her chest, waiting for me to make an offer that she couldn’t - or wouldn’t, refuse.

“Here, I have an idea if you don’t mind. If you trust me, I will promise to keep your clothes dry. I’ll keep them

Thundersnow and Deflowering.

Wed, 13 Nov 2024 09:32:01 -0600

Young Female Minister Finds a mate in an unorthodox (sinful) moment.

Based on a post by SandyMarl. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

“I was young. Though at the time I thought I was pretty old for a virgin. I’d finished at the university and then I had completed my training to become a certified church youth director. Seminary would come a few years later.

"I was thrilled to accept an offer for a youth director position at a large church. I was desperate to hit all the marks; I was eager to get to know the kids and I was adamant that I would be a fine, upright and un-besmirched example of Christian virtue for the youth.

"My church sent me to a youth conference out-of-state. Among other duties, I was an uptight, hard-ass, chastity chaperone overseeing a bubbling pool of hormones. Damn, I was vigilant; squelching boners and drying up young wet pussies. If, by the end of the conference; no lives were lost and no lives were created, I’d attained my measure of success.

"On my return, I had a layover in Dallas. I was upset when my flight was delayed, then ultimately rescheduled for the next day because of a couple of back-to-back severe cold fronts that were clipping across the country. Disaster hit home when it was announced that all flights were canceled because of the icy winter weather. I was furious at God. What was He doing to me? This is Texas, land of parched mesquite trees and dusty tumbleweeds. It’s not supposed to snow in Texas, much less for multiple days.

I’d already spent one hellacious, uncomfortable night crowded into DFW Airport with a seething cast of thousands of stranded passengers. It was the ‘Valentine’s Day snow-pocalypse.’ With each continuing hour of freezing rainfall, I was facing the prospect of being stranded for a second night. My fate of being stuck on an uncomfortable airport bench without my luggage seemed unbearable.

While looking in vain for a place to buy a toothbrush, I ran into a professional acquaintance who was also stranded. She introduced me to a guy, Antonio, with whom she had some connection. He was a few years older than me, I was told he was in advertising, writing jingles for TV ads and stuff.

My acquaintance excused herself, as she had a lead on finding some ground transportation that she hoped could get her out of this frozen-over hell at DFW airport. I wished her luck, leaving the two of us newly introduced strangers standing uncomfortably in a crowd of strangers.

"Been here all day and all night?” he asked to make small talk. He must have known my obvious answer.

“Yah. I spent a miserable month in Dallas one night,” was my snide quip. “Actually two days, and it’s looking like I’ll be stuck here for a second night, too.”

“I fear we’ll both be stuck in our night tutus. I’m just afraid I’ll look silly in my tutu, but I believe you’ll look fine in your night tutu.”

Antonio’s pun and cheap humor fell flat. I was in no mood for word play. I just wanted out. He was disappointed that I was unresponsive to his levity. I’ll give him credit, he didn’t quit; “Only thing is that my tutu was packed in my check-on baggage and it’s earning travel bonus miles for a Florida vacation while I’m stuck here in Dallas on Valentine’s. Like a fool, I didn’t bring a carry-on with me.”

He looked at me sympathetically, “Do you have a carry-on bag with you?”

“No,” I snapped. “Everything has gone to hell, including my baggage and my career.” I felt like telling him that he could go to hell too. But I didn’t. “No, I don’t have any change of clothes with me.”

He told me, “Stay right here, I’m going to check on something,” as an enviable spark lit his eyes.

“Stay right here?” I parroted. “Where would I go? Even if I didn’t want to stay right here?” I whipped my hair off my shoulders with a violent and defiant jerk of my neck to emphasize my frustration with his directions to me as well as everything in general.

He gave me a look, like, 'OK, I’m not going to touch that.’ He checked his phone battery, grimaced and stepped across the concourse and punched something into his cell phone.

He came back to where I was standing, looking at me like he was cornered by a wounded mama bear. “I’m down to nine percent charge. But I have a plan.” He struck up a chanting cadence of sorts, singing, “I don’t know, but I’ve been told; I’ve gotta plan oh so bold, wanna blow this joint, it’s getting’ old?” Then he added, “'Misery loves company’ - so I’m told. Join me in my escape plan?”

He got the stink eye from me. Then I had to ask, “Depends. What’s this bold plan of yours?”

“I just sent a text to a gal I’ve worked with in the music industry. She has a small place somewhere near this airport; I think. I know she’s out in LA now doing a gig. If she responds before my phone dies, I’ve asked her if I could use her place until hell quits freezing over.”

In a few minutes, his phone pinged. He scrolled through the text as I looked at his hunched form. “You’ve still got a charge. I hope that’s her. Is it?” I asked as a bit of hope crept into my tone.

“Good luck for a change. One, I’ve got permission; two, an address and three, a front door code. With an air of nonchalance, he asked me, "If I can find a rideshare, would you care to join me in a small, warm place, far from the madding crowd?”

I was uncomfortable and desperate and perhaps against all of mother’s advice, I decided to cast my lot with this older, experienced guy of my acquaintance for all of forty minutes.

Out of the Fridge and into Hell’s Freezer.

Our Uber driver asked, “Any bags?”

We answered with a glum and simultaneous, “No.”

She told us we were lucky that she took us, “Nobody wants to be out in this slick shit. I grew up in Minnesota, but these Texas ice-storm roads are crazy different than snow. Y'all are my last ride, this is too dangerous.”

She dropped us off at the address Antonio had given her. “Hope y'all get to have a warm Valentine’s Day,” she said as she fish-tailed away on the icy boulevard in front of our apartment complex of refuge.

Crossing the iced-over parking lot was treacherous with the sleet and snow coming down almost horizontally through the bitter wind. Our progress was made more difficult by the fact that neither of us had appropriate shoes. I was wearing Crocs, Antonio had sandals; minimal footgear chosen to quickly pass through TSA screening and shoe removal.

“Something’s not right,” moaned Antonio as we approached the building. “This doesn’t match the description I was given.”

“If it’s not right and if we’re stuck outside in this weather, we’ll die. My toes are already frozen purple,” I complained, not exaggerating.

Antonio checked his phone and I saw a look of panic cross his face. “My phone’s dead,” he mumbled through quivering lips.

“Is your phone still working?” he asked me.

I dug it out of my bag. “Yep. But not for long.”

“I think I can remember my friend’s number; dial her number for me.” With cold, stiff fingers I pressed the key sequence he thought he remembered.

He pulled his frigid hand out from his pocket, asking for my phone as it rang through. “Leila? Is that you? This is Antonio. Something’s wrong, we’re standing somewhere that doesn’t look like the place you described. We’re freezing our asses off.”

Antonio held my phone to his ear as I listened to his side of the conversation, “OK. OK… No. Our Uber dropped us off… Yes! I used the address you gave me… No, well possibly… I told her 11263. Shit! Frozen shit in hell! Leila? Wait, let me repeat, 11623. One-one-six-two-three? You sure… Sorry, Leila, probably my mistake. This phone is about to die and we’re also about to die of hypothermia. I owe you. Thanks. Bye.”

I uncrossed my arms folded across my chest, covered only in a light-weight blouse, to take back my phone.

Antonio looked sheepish and very cold. “Well, if hell ever freezes over, this is what it’s going to be like. I’m sorry Michelle, some numbers got transposed. We’re four blocks away from where we need to be. I’m sorry, our only choice is to start walking and start walking fast.”

Cursed by Snow, Blessed by Thunder.

I heard a crack and a rumble coming from above. It scared me. “What was that noise?” I asked in added terror.

“I believe that’s thunder snow,” my hard-luck escort answered. “I’ve never experienced it, but I’ve heard of it. Supposed to be a rare meteorological phenomenon.”

There was another loud rumble. “Is thunder snow dangerous?” I asked, panicking under the severe weather conditions.

“No,” he told me. “It’s a sign, it’s a special sign of hope for you and me Michelle. You might call it a blessing.”

I wanted to believe him. I did believe him.

He pushed me on the back. “Let’s get moving.”

A layer of ice had crusted over the six inches of snow that had fallen earlier. Barbs of freezing rain were biting into my cheeks as we scuffled along the abandoned boulevard, hunching against the driving wind. My toes were numb, everything was painful, including the real fear of not being able to make it the four blocks to shelter.

The low, cruel clouds continued to deliver stinging pellets of ice. The dismal sky above rumbled and cracked with thunder snow as we struggled ahead. “I think thunder snow sounds like the voice of God,” I suggested, perhaps delusional in my suffering.

“What’s God saying?” was Antonio’s question.

“I don’t know. I want to believe His voice is in this thunder snow, I feel He’s telling us that He’ll keep us safe. That He will save us.”

Antonio did not respond to my interpretation. He was too miserable to converse.

I followed in Antonio’s tracks, just moving, not thinking. The sharp chill stabbing through my wet clothes had frozen everything out of my brain except the will to survive.

“This is it.” He sounded subdued.

He took a hand out of his pocket and reached for mine. I gave it to him as we climbed the icy steps to the third floor. A huge, echoing boom of thunder snow rang out as soon as we touched hands. Antonio squeezed my hand, “I believe God just spoke. I think your prayers are answered, Michelle. You will be safe now. We’ll be OK. God just said so.”

I nodded weakly. “I believe thunder snow is a special sign for us,” I suggested.

Antonio squeezed my hand again.

Antonio entered a digital code and pushed the door open. I don’t remember being elated, I only remember feeling exhausted as the door swung closed behind us and the window pane rattled with another burst of thunder snow. It was a sign, a good and special sign from heaven I decided. I understood in my soul that the roar of thunder snow was the sound of heavenly passion.

Resurrection of the Frozen Dead.

Antonio went to the thermostat and cranked it up. I was stunned by the cold and too numb to think or do anything other than to sit on the end of the bed and shiver in my wet clothes. Antonio glanced at me, “Michelle, you get the first hot shower.”

Like a stiff zombie rising out of a frozen grave, I stepped into the tiny bath, dropped my sodden blouse, pants and socks on the floor, draping my equally wet bra and undies on the door knob. Hot water poured over my skin, I was resurrected from the cold and the dead. I was once again a woman of warm flesh and blood. I did not yet realize the magnitude of my transformation into a young woman of warm flesh and hot blood. The significance of facing the trauma of a frozen death, only to reach safety and feel warm and alive, maybe shifted my perspectives on morality.

Maybe.

I had a towel wrapped around my torso as I peered through the bathroom door. The place was cramped. Antonio’s wet clothes had been dumped in a pile on the kitchenette’s floor. I could see his form across the room under the blankets of the narrow bed in the corner. He was motionless. I wondered if I should wake him and tell him the shower was available. We were both wrung out from our ordeal and the previous sleepless night in DFW Airport. I thought it best to let him sleep.

I don’t know what I was thinking - I probably wasn’t thinking. I had no energy left to think, but I do remember my feelings as I looked at the sleeping man in the corner. I stepped to the edge of the bed, feeling grateful to be alive and in a warm, dry place. I was feeling that Antonio had protected me and delivered me from freezing to death, realistic or not. I was feeling tired, yet with a warm, quiet satisfaction that together we survived our Valentine’s Day snow-pocalypse.

I was feeling some warm affection toward the man who had led me by the hand to this quiet place of refuge.

I lifted the blankets enough to see he had shed all of his wet clothes. There was a naked man before me. A naked, sleeping, wonderful man. This man deserved to rest after bringing me to safety. This wonderful man deserved to have my warmth shared with him after all we’d been through.

This should have been a paradox for me; one bed, two people, a virtuous, virgin church girl and an undressed music man. I didn’t think about it. I just felt it was right to drop my damp towel next to the bed and slip under the sheets with this wonderful man.

Trying not to disturb him, I eased in close, but not intending to touch his skin. I pulled the blankets over us as a distant peal of thunder snow slipped into the late afternoon light of the room. That last echo of thunder snow was a sign, I felt it was a blessing for us from above. I was asleep in an instant.

Mystery of a Curious Erotic Fascination.

I never imagined it would be this way. I was prepared to wait for the marriage bed. At least that was my strong belief the day before yesterday. Now, I had crawled naked under the covers with a sleeping, naked man that I just met and it seemed like the most natural and right thing to do after what we’d been through together. I admit, it was a strange transformation, one of those paradoxes that I’ve come to understand that comes with this messy life of mixed spirit and soul. I sensed we were Adam and Eve, innocent and naked and unashamed in the Garden of Eden.

I guess we’d tossed around in our sleep. I awoke. Antonio was asleep on his back, his left arm was on top of my bare chest with his palm resting flat on my left breast. I considered gently lifting it off of me, but I cherished the feel of the weight of his arm across my chest. I enjoyed the feel of a broad, male hand covering my nipple. My nipples had ached in the cold earlier, now they were warm and welcoming to the pressure of Antonio’s palm and I’m sure they began to plump up pert and pretty under the circumstances.

Holding still in the darkness, I was thinking about the man next to me. Our feet had intertwined in the night on the narrow mattress we shared. I liked having our feet tangled as much as I liked his arm pressing on my boobs. I was thinking about his cock which I’d glimpsed as I slipped under the covers next to him.

It wasn’t so much temptation, but more of a compelling fascination. I wanted to get to know this cock. I’d seen it laying across his thigh, it was so gloriously male. It was intricate and elegant, connecting to his scrotum. A great mystery had been revealed to me, but I think like most ladies, we can never understand the power of the cock for a man. Lying in the still darkness, naked and next to his exposed masculine mystery, something was percolating inside of me. I couldn’t deny I’d developed an erotic fascination for Antonio’s external manhood glory.

Perhaps I’d long been afraid to draw too close and acknowledge the power of masculinity. Things had changed for me, the deep mystery at the center of a man had been placed by happenstance next to me. I let slip all my notions of Christian propriety, strictures and teachings of absolute moral stances, I wanted the mystery to be unfolded before me. Like Eve, I wanted the forbidden fruit of knowledge of good and evil. I can now understand Eve’s temptation in the Garden of Eden.

Good Christian Girls Don’t, But.

For me, it was curiosity over lust. I had heard about the amazing masculine sex organ - gift and curse; it could and would grow from small and soft; to long and hard; at the mere sight of an attractive woman. The penis could and would dispossess a virtuous man of his disciplined mind and turn him into a fool. How does this dangling thing between a man’s legs exert so much control? And what would happen if a female just touched this thing of mysterious masculine power? Maybe touched it just a little?

My hand was moving as if on its own as I was thinking these thoughts. Those rigid boundaries of conduct I once had were now faded, washed away by a hot shower and a surge of possibilities rising between mingled bodies of a woman and a man. With fingers arched ever so slightly, they explored under the sheets, landing on Antonio’s hip. I paused, thinking I didn’t want to wake him, but I just wanted to touch him. Fingers of my right hand ran through the coarse hairs of his lower belly. I was mere inches from contact with his dormant cock. My exploration was so naughty and exhilarating. I couldn’t stop my traveling digits even though my brain was shouting a warning, 'good girls do not do these nasty things.’ I was a virgin, but I was a curious girl, and maybe I wasn’t such a good girl. I was so thrilled to be on the verge of doing a bad girl nasty thing. I combed through his tuft of pubic hair, spread my fingers wide and brushed my palm over his quiescent shaft.

Now I’ve done it, I thought. I shouldn’t have let myself go this far. What have I done? What’s going to happen now?

Nothing happened.

I was relieved.

Since nothing happened, I couldn’t resist touching the smooth skin of his long trunk. What does the tip of his phallus feel like? Is it too sensitive for me to touch? My surreptitious exploration felt like I was Eve, reaching up to pet the serpent who was offering me the fruit of forbidden knowledge. I was smitten by his serpent.

The serpent moved.

I froze. Panic seized me. Antonio’s sleeping flesh twitched beneath my open hand. It was alive. Did I wake Antonio, or is this a spontaneous unconscious reaction? I didn’t know.

I had gotten into deep mischief, this was going to be embarrassing to explain. I had dipped my hand into the cookie jar and I got caught.

Charmed and Smitten by The Serpent.

The still arm resting on my chest shifted. An open hand brushed over the curved top of my breast, making slow circles over my exposed mammary. His thumb and forefinger traced around the base of my erect nipple before a gentle squeeze tugged at that ripe jewel, sending fluttering waves int

Snow Flowers: Part 3

Tue, 12 Nov 2024 09:31:23 -0600

The reward for rescue..

Based on the posts by SandyMarl, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, 2010

“Okay Rosie, are you ready for your bedtime story?“ Lil had adopted what I imagined to be her ‘teacher voice’.

"You’ve got me kind of excited now. Is it alright if I touch myself a little while I listen to your story?”

“You can, but don’t get too carried away and eat your dessert first. You’ll want to let your man bring you along. For your part, you need to enjoy the journey. Let your lover provide the orgasm. It’ll come on its own time and terms. Enjoying the journey is to be your focus.”

Lil began, “Once upon a time, there were two silly girls who went for a walk in the deep, dark and dangerous woods. The silly girls thought it was only fall, but a hard winter snow came early and they fell into great danger from many things in those deep, dark and dangerous woods. The winds began to howl and the sky turned cold and dark and the silly girls were in danger and had to get back to safety. But they had lost their way in the deep, dark and dangerous woods filled with hungry wolves.

The silly girls had not dressed appropriately for an adventure in the deep, dark and dangerous woods; one little foolish girl had worn skimpy lacey little underthings into the woods where hungry wolves did prowl. The girls soon became cold and confused as a big snow storm swallowed them up in their thin clothing which they had worn into the woods. The two silly girls took the wrong path in the storm and could not find their way back home. Poor little girls.

These poor little girls; all alone in the deep, dark and dangerous woods were on death’s doorstep, almost frozen to death in the snow. When through the dark woods they saw a light from a little house. They had to go this house for safety, but they did not know who lived in this little house deep in the woods. It could be an old wood cutter, or it could be a dangerous wolf that preys on silly little maidens who get lost in the dark woods. The poor little girls had no choice but to kick open the door of the little house and see what fate they would face.

The two girls thought that they were safe inside the house. It looked like these poor little lost girls had been taken in by a kindly woodcutter. The man in the house took them in and licked his long tongue over his lips as the two lost girls came into his lair; for he was not a man but a big, bad, hungry wolf disguised as a man who cuts wood (or writes stories, about the same thing). The clever big, bad, hungry wolf quickly told the lost girls a tale and convinced the smarter (and least frozen) girl to leave him alone with her friend, while she was sent to get help.

While the smarter of the two lost girls was suspicious of the man who she thought might be a wolf in disguise, she left anyway. The big, bad wolf, now alone with a pretty young thing in his lair, made his lair very cozy and warm. He gave the lost little girl some warm food as he licked his long tongue over his wolf lips and across his big, sharp teeth. The lost girl asked some clever questions and she then knew that she was in the clutches of a nasty wolf. But the silly lost girl actually liked nasty wolves and so she tricked the wolf to come close to her so she could pet him.

The lost girl was now quite unfrozen and had warmed up very nicely inside the cozy lair. She had an idea and she made a bargain with the nasty ol’ wolf to…”

The bath water had cooled and Rosie turned the tap to refill the tub with more hot water; which meant that the water tank needed to be filled up with the pump outside and heated by more logs on the fire. Lily hollered through the closed bathroom door, “Vic, we are going to need more hot water, can you take care of that for us now?”

I quickly stepped further into the big room. If I answered from where I was standing, I’d give away my position as being within earshot of the closed door. In a moment I spoke with a raised voice, pretending that I had not been privy to their intimate conversation, “Yeah. Sure thing. I’ll take care of that for my lady guests.”

I was fascinated by Lil’s bedtime story that was told for the purpose of arousing her friend diddling herself in the bath water. The tale wasn’t playing out quite the way I remember it, but we teller of stories don’t let the facts get in the way of a good story. I wanted to listen to Lil’s erotic and embellished details, but I had some chores assigned to me; beside I know how this story goes, I was there.

I brought in enough cut wood to feed the fire for the rest of the night. I had the fire blazing and had arranged the pillows in a cozy love nest on the made bed. I channeled my big bad wolf persona, but with an attentive, sensuous inner core and prepared for my opportunity to take Rosie on her first ride into the world of feminine sexual fulfillment. I was pleased that I had overheard Rosie’s questions and reluctance expressed to Lil, since this gave me an idea of where I should start with her.

I could hear the water draining out of the tub, the bedtime story was finished and we three were about to write the next chapter. The door to the bath alcove opened and Lily emerged holding Rose’s hand. Rose walked behind her trusted friend into the main room where I was waiting for them next to the licking fire. I stood and met my two guests halfway across the floor and Lil handed Rose off to me. After drying off, Rose had dressed again in the clothes she had worn earlier that day, or partly dressed. It was obvious to me that Lil had dressed Rosie after her bath. She had Rosie in a shirt leaving the two top buttons undone. The shirt had been loosely knotted above the waist to show off the pair of midnight blue panties with white polka dots and a very feminine lacey waistband with a bow just below her bellybutton. Her bra had been left behind in the bathroom along with her jeans. Lil had fashioned a girl-next-door come-hither look with the panties and partly undone, seductively hinting shirt. I liked it.

Rose seemed to be feeling pretty, as she showed slightly upturned lips hinting at a smile even though she walked with her head tipped down behaving like the shy virgin she actually was. She took my hand as she sashayed in step with me as I led her to the big swivel chair placed comfortably in front of the dancing fire which kept the icy night at bay. The reluctance and nervous uncertainty that I had heard from her earlier seems to have been allayed by the naughty bedtime story and the anticipation of sublime sensual pleasure that Lily had promised. Rosie may still be feeling shy and not very confident, but she was definitely showing some bubbly excitement for tonight’s escapades. Rosie was now quite willing for me to lead her into the fulfillment of her long desired sexual surrender and love making adventure.

I guided Rose into the chair and moved behind her as I noticed Lily taking a voyeur’s seat in the shadows of the bed in the corner. I moved my hands down on Rosie’s shoulders to initiate an intimate touch and explore the tension in her inexperienced body. Rose stared ahead into the fire as I slowly worked her shoulder muscles, feeling some tension at first touch. Soon I noticed that my touch was having a transforming effect on her. As the nervous tension left her body, she slumped comfortably back into my hands. I could detect her pleased response by a few low purrs as I stayed at her neck and shoulders. I bent low over her head from behind the chair and began a small conversation, “Did you enjoy your bath this evening Rosie?” She was not too verbal in her responses, but my questions were not so much about conversation, but to get her to focus on herself and her feelings in her seductively clad body.

“Are you comfortable here in front of the fire?” I asked her in a soft, low voice. “How did your story time with Lil make you feel?” I continued with Rosie in that vein while working her skin and muscles with my fingers. Her answers were short and soft spoken, as she was more interested in her physical response to me than engaging in small talk. That was just what I wanted.

While using hushed tones in her ear, I slipped my hands off of her shoulders and across the fabric of her shirt and over her tits. Rose’s breath quickened with the start of erotic foreplay. I let my palms linger over the tented topography created by her erect nipples. I moved in slow soft circles stimulating her through the fabric. “Can you feel my appreciation of your body?” I asked quietly in her ear. Rose held her breath and nodded quickly, unable or unwilling to speak. I licked Rose’s ear while I continued to lightly circle her small tits. Rosie’s soft titties were in contrast to her erotically charged, long, very long nipples that crowned her cute, conical peaks. Her stiffened nipples rose high above the soft flesh slopes beneath, which she lifted and pressed into my grasp. Rosie was already aroused enough to be compliant with all I would do with her this evening. In my hands, Rosie was showing she was a girl who was ready, no; needed; to be fucked.

My seduction of the virgin Rosie continued as I circled my open hands over the slope of her upper chest where it began to rise into her succulent, feminine shape. I parted the fabric that had been left unbuttoned as an invitation to her first lover to investigate her sweet and supple offerings. Rosie’s skin was warm from facing the fire and I intended to soon ignite all of her flesh with desire for the satisfaction of a man’s cock penetrating her womanhood. But my seductive plan for my little lost virgin maiden was to build up her anticipation. She would be demanding I take her and transform her into a fully sexual woman. I slid my hands under her shirt and around the sides of her small curves, avoiding the nipples. Rosie again threw out her chest and lifted herself partially out of the seat as she broke into short, quick huffing breaths. I teased her by running my fingertips lightly over her cute hanging fruits while I waited to see if she would be able to catch her breath. I was just getting started, but poor Rosie was already showing signs of heightened arousal. This foreplay was new and sexually exciting for her.

While still standing behind her, I nuzzled hot breath into her dark hair, still moist from her bath, as I completely unbuttoned her shirt. I slid the shirt off her shoulders, revealing her dark pink nipples to be nearly an inch long, once properly aroused. I covered her tits with both of my paws and gave Rosie’s sensitive extended nipples a firm squeeze. Rosie squeezed her eyes tight and broke into short, spasmodic gulps. I squeezed her again in slow motion. She was intently focused on the sensation while she let out a long, low moan. I whispered into her ear, “I love ladies with long, luscious nipples. Yours are the most erotic and beautiful little tits that I’ve ever had the pleasure to climb. They look like little copies of Chimney Mesa. I know of a couple of silly girls who wanted to go to Chimney Mesa, but they got lost. It looks like I found those lost girls and I’ve found my own twin Chimney Mesas. I’m a lucky man. Do you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to mount an expedition to explore my little Chimney Mesas.”

As I was caressing Rosie, I looked over to Lil sitting on the bed in the corner. She was undressing as she watched my moves on Rosie. I saw her wad up her heavy shirt and toss it and her bra to the end of the bed. Lily was mimicking my moves over Rosie’s pert tits with her own hands caressing her well rounded boulders.

Rosie seemed to have fallen into a blissful stupor. The warm firelight, my stimulating fingers in tandem with sweet nothings being whispered into her ear had poured any lingering apprehension out of her small framed body. I scooped Rosie out of the easy chair and tossed her onto the bed next to Lily.

I dropped onto the bed next to my recumbent virgin. I pressed my lips to hers, only to be met with a tongue coming back between my lips. Lily chortled in shared excitement at being a witness to her friend Rosie being tossed onto the bed and spontaneously frenching me. “Oh, I think she likes that Vic,” Lily cooed as she coached my approach to our shared intimate project.

“As promised, it’s Chimney Mesa exploration time my dear.” I used a growly voice, which elicited another shy giggle from Rosie. I was able to bend her disproportionately thick left nipple and bring it to my outstretched tongue. I licked the top of extended pink pillar where it had a small dimple. “I’ve reached the summit!” I announced with mock proud accomplishment.

Lily, watching closely, said, “You’re only half way there. You’ve got twin peaks to conquer; mister.”

“Right my Sherpa guide.” I lingered on Rosie’s left nipple, going from small flicks of my tongue to sucking the full extension into my mouth. I rolled my tongue all around both towering nips. I’ll never unwrap a tootsie roll again without thinking of Rosie’s candied tips at the end of her little tits. At the encouragement of Lil, I moved my extended licker from left mesa to the right. I sensed Rose turn her hips to feed me her other teat at a better angle. I tugged on the elongated nipple presented to me and put it to my lips. I flicked it with the tip of my tongue and then placed my hand on her shoulder blade and pushed her fully into my mouth for a hard sucking; swallowing her tit in its aroused entirety.

“You’ve conquered the mountains. Now, what my mighty explorer?” Lil asked in a teasing voice, anxious to move me on to other quests.

“It is typical for explorers of virgin territory to plant a flag to make a claim; showing that they are the first.”

Lily’s inquisitive reply was, “Do you have a flag?”

“This expedition has a very nice package. That is, a package of tools that will be needed. I don’t have a flag, but I do have a pole.” Lily loved my response and burst into a suppressed laugh.

Still choking back the mirthful mumbles coming from her mouth, Lil managed to speak, “As your faithful Sherpa guide, I will prepare your pole for planting upon virgin territory.” I continued to enjoy tonguing the two conquered peaks. As did Rosie, as evident by her low, undulating moans. As I worked on Rose, Lil brushed her bare tits across my cheek as she shifted on the bed to strip off her pants, leaving her wooly socks with snowflake designs on her toes. Naked, except for her socks, Lily tugged at the waistband of my trousers. It was a hint, not a subtle one, that it was time for me to get serious and get naked.

I broke off my tongue bath for Rosie’s titties and stood to disrobe. As Lil rolled off of the bed to undress me, she stopped, looked down at Rosie still in her polka dot panties. “Hold onto your trousers mister. Ladies first.” She slipped her fingers around the lace trim at Rosie’s hips and slipped them off as Rose lifted her bare feet into the air to make it possible. Lil was eager to unzip and unbutton me, so I let her take over the task. I took the opportunity to fondle her swaying jugs as she positioned them near my hands while she worked to remove my shirt and then my pants plus underwear in a simultaneous downward tug.

“Yes! Vic! Look, I found your pole.” Lil wrapped her fingers around my shaft and began to stroke it. I enjoyed finally getting some attention on my heated rod. Lil pushed my erect cock up flat against my stomach, starting at my balls, licked up to the underside tip and then repeated.

I grabbed her by both ears and asked. “What about your friend, she is lying over there stranded and unfulfilled?”

“Damn shame, isn’t it? Too many hungry pussies and too few cocks. You’re right. You need to check on her progress, but from the looks and sounds coming from that girl, she is primed for some pumping action.” Lily continued to stroke my saliva slickened cock as she spoke to me. “Go check her sealed-up cunt, I think she is ready to be spoiled.” With that, Lil tugged on my cock, leading me to a position between the legs of her friend Rosie. Lily released my cock as a signal that I was to go back to seducing Rosie.

I dropped to my knees. I took a moment to gaze at my subject of sensual attention, lying on her back with her chest heaving with excited breaths, anticipating the pleasurable loss of her virginity. In the glow of the flames leaping on the fireplace grate, I could see that she was glistening with sexual dewiness. The ice of a young woman’s unused sexual organs had begun to thaw with the heat of the evening’s passion. The result was a warm wetness that had to be further explored and exploited. I placed my hands on her legs, just above her knees. Rosie flinched in a startled hiccup at the feel of my hands landing on her skin. She held her breath. I watched her breathing for a moment before I incrementally crept with palms and fingers ever closer to her upper thighs. Her eyes were shut tight, her hands, palms down, were tensed flat on the bed’s blanket. Rosie let out moans of “umm, umm, umm” as I approached her virgin pink opening. I noticed her fingers curl, as she gripped the blanket in clinched fists.

Rosie held her legs close together. I wedged my hands between, where her thighs were still pressed together. With firm pressure, I swung the gate to her secret garden open. I made an approving sound as I moved my face in close. “Nice. I can smell the aromatic scent of your secret garden. You are so pretty.” I inhaled a lung full of air thick with high sexual arousal. “I’ve been advised to stop and smell the roses.”

Lily had lain back on the bed and was watching and listening as I seduced Rose. She had one hand on Rosie’s tit, teasing her long nipple while she was making small circles between her own legs with her other hand. “Look what I discovered in this secret garden, a rose. Let’s count the petals of the rose.” I moved my caressing hands in unison to her dew-laden rose petals and with my thumbs and forefingers, I parted them to expose the rosy pink heart of her virgin flower. The sensation of me touching her wet labia brought out a wilting vocalization that started high and trailed into a long, low moan.

“Oh Vic, I think she likes that.” Lily sounded excited herself with that observation. “Oh Vic, I’m getting so hot watching this. I won’t be able to last much longer. You’re killing me! You gotta finish Rosie. I can’t wait much longer and neither can she. Fuck her Mister Vic. Fuck her, fuck us both.”

With a calm, understated voice in a deep register, I continued increasing the sexual tension and anticipation of both naked ladies. “Now that I’ve been granted access to open the gate and enter your secret garden, I’ve found a beautiful rose, perfect and unblemished. Such beauty is meant to be enjoyed and shared. Now that your flower is in full bloom, it will soon be time to share and enjoy. To enjoy it, I will have to pick it. Are you ready my sweet Rosie?” I insert a single finger into Rosie’s hot, secret space at the same time I made little wiggles over her beckoning clit with the pad of my thumb. Rosie listened to my words with bated breath. When I told her what I was about to do to her, she arched her hips up to meet my hands and I was certain she was

Snow Flowers: Part 2

Mon, 11 Nov 2024 09:31:43 -0600

Lily’s wolf fantasy gets erotic.

Based on the posts by SandyMarl, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, 2010

Lily was anticipating that my wet mouth would be right back to work her sweet spot. She was making small thrusting waves with her hips, waiting for me to return to lap like a wolf in the secret and sensitive part of her lap. Instead, I ignored her arched cunny and began to unbutton her shirt, beginning at the waist. After each button was undone, I made a snarl and took a toothy little nip at her belly flesh.

“Ouch! You are a bad biter wolf!” she scolded.

“The better to check on your frosted pumpkins my dear.” Lily decided to help me get to her tits and began unbuttoning from the top of the shirt. This effort, aside from being quite sexy to see a woman working swiftly to expose her tits to me, prevented me from taking any more nips at the flesh of her belly.

“There you go you big, bad wolf. Is this what you were wanting?”

“Nah, I’ve seen those already,” I said in a nonchalant voice feigning little interest, betraying my piqued arousal and my piping hot cock, brought on by our wolf-eats-lost-maiden sex game.

“Well, you haven’t had the pleasure of tasting them yet, have you? And no biting. Or I’ll skin your hairy hide and use you for a rug in front of this fireplace.”

I whimpered.

Lily took pity on me after her scolding, and then lifted her tits in the palms of her hands as she offered them to my hungry lips. I licked my chops and then moved in at her sexy invitation. I worked around the areolas taking long wet slurps over her punched-up nipples. With each new movement of my tongue, Lily moaned blissfully before the glowing fire.

After thoroughly sucking her nipples and nuzzling her beautiful mounds, she abruptly grasped my head and moved me back on all fours. I got the hint. I pressed her legs apart while folding back the blanket bunched around her warming hips. I gave her long wolf licks, working to spread her pink cunny lips and once opened, I used my tongue to explore paradise valley with slow, wet circles. I alternated between long, wet, lascivious lashes with my tongue and then I would pause and then dash back to her with quick flicks. Lily had her head tossed back on the easy chair, her chest was arched upward and she was giving me involuntary moans of deepening pleasure. I moved my tongue around her glowing nub, only to be met with her hips being thrust and pressed toward my face. I slipped my hands under her ass, firmly squeezing each cheek and brought her tight into my tongue and sealed my lips around the hardened twat and sucked it.

Lightning struck for a second time. Lily inhaled a sharp breath as she shook her hands in a rapid and agitated motion with her fingers spread wide as she stiffened at my touch. She nearly sucked all of the air out of the room in her moment of sharp ecstasy. Her cunny was slapped with electric orgasmic waves in quick succession as she yelled out a high octave, undulating staccato scream as I held my lips tight to her labia and sucked her into a hot and dizzy dimension.

Lily went limp again, like she was when I first poured her into my bath water. Only now she was a lot warmer to the touch. I spun her chair around so she was facing the fire and stood behind her as I moved my hands through her mid-shoulder length locks of light brown hair and massaged her shoulders. With a light touch I moved my fingertips down the front of her chest; removing the borrowed shirt Lily was half-wearing. I let my fingers brush across her nipples to make sure they were still solidly aroused, giving each erect nipple a simultaneous pinch. Lily said nothing.

As she sat with her head tossed back over her chair looking up at me. I withdrew the blanket stuffed behind her and tossed it back onto the bed. Reaching my hands down her chest, I hefted her firm, round, tits with my palms. I enjoyed feeling their shape as I manipulated them softly, caressing each nipple and feeling that the fire’s heat had warmed her skin to a nice and toasty degree. Still standing behind her, I planted a kiss on the top of her head, then walked in front of her, took her hand and had her rise out of the fireside chair. With a firm shove I pushed her onto the bed. I threw a few fluffy blankets on top of her and then undressed myself and joined her under the bed covers.

I ran my fingers over her head and hair, exploring her neck and back and she rolled to her stomach and let me scratch her back and play with her ass, while she emitted soft moans. I worked my way down to her toes and seductively nibbled the bare tootsies. I nipped at her toes, jolting her out of her relaxed state. “Oops. That was a mean case of frost bite, that is what happens to girls that go hiking in the wood unprepared. They are likely to get frost bitten.” I kept up my teasing as I held her feet down and continued to playfully nip at her. She reached down to pry my teeth away from her feet. I took the bait and began to gnaw and suck on her fingers as she reeled me back up toward her tits. I moved from her fingers to her nipples, still proud and expectant, and nudged her to flop flat onto her back. She did so while returning to making soft moans. As I was sucking and licking at her tits, she maneuvered herself into a place where she was pressing into my right hand with her hip. I took advantage of her in the way she was hinting. I moved my fingers down to begin to play between her legs as I continued to enjoy working her nipples. As I touched just above her cunny, she arched to make sure I could get a good angle on her clit. I parted her lips with my fingers and as I touched her engorged button ever so softly with a single fingertip, she caught her breath and whispered, “Vic, Oh, Oh, I am so wet!”

As I rubbed Lily’s wet cunny, those silly, slurpy sex sounds were mixing with her short breaths and some new chirping noises. It was difficult to know exactly what was going on with Lily underneath the covers, but it was definitely pretty good for her. The chirps transformed into deeper groans that were building as she briefly brought her hands up to squeeze and bunch her tits, manipulating her own sweet nips. She gave up on that self-stimulation and threw her hands straight over her head, palms up, and started pumping her hips furiously as I kept my index finger circling her wet clit. She exploded, screaming “Whoa! Stop! Stop! Stop!” between heaving breaths as she crossed her legs tight to protect her now over-stimulated clitoris and pulsing vulva. “Wow. That’s too much of a good thing. Give me a moment.”

I watched her in the fire light with a real stiff pecked for a few moments. Lily, somewhat recovered from her multi-orgasmic experiences reached down to check on me. She wrapped her fingers around my cock and grinned as she gave me some slow strokes. “Well, I feel like I’ve just been devoured by a big bad wolf out in the middle of the woods. But, really, I think this all started when I proposed that I owed you something for saving my life in the storm. That was extraordinary Vic! Totally clitastic.” Lily continued to stroke my shaft, “I do believe I now owe you. Do anything you want with me. Just take me. I owe you. I am yours.” With a sultry, begging voice, she whispered to me, “So why don’t you ‘throw some wood on the fire’?”

I caught her double entendre, but got out of bed and added a few logs to the embers in the fire. Lily watched me tend to the hearth with consternation. Lily propped her head up on her elbows and said, “That is not really what I was asking you do get up and do.”

I turned to her with my erection pointing directly at her nose, and replied, “Oh, is that a fact? Was my beholden-for-saving-her-life English clit teacher dropping a double entendre perhaps?” Lily cocked her head coyly, and did not answer, but threw the covers off of her and spread her legs and motioned to me with her index finger. I adjusted the logs in the fire with a poker, then picked it up and examined it, “Lily, my poker is still pretty hot. I am going to have to find a way to quench this hot tool.”

She laughed, and laughed well, “Vic, you are pretty good with puns, maybe you should be a writer?”

“Can’t, too busy fucking around.” With that I dove back onto the bed, flipped Lily over and smacked her ass with a sharp little spank. “You’ve been very bad today, and have kept me from developing my gift as a writer.” I then spanked her a second time. I then pulled her up and bent her over the foot of the bed as the fire blazed on her right side, silhouetting her pendulous tits in the darkened room. Lily put her hands down on the bed as I came up behind to 'lay some wood on the fire’, spreading her legs so she was at the right height for me to grab her hips and pull her wet cunt onto my cock. I reached under her and cupped her dangling tits, gave them a good squeeze as a signal that I was about to fuck her, and fuck her hard. Lily took one hand and guided my shaft right where she wanted it and I began to plunge in and out. Slow strokes at first to get my cock lubed with her nectar and then I had to thrust harder and faster. Lily began to scream, “Get me you nasty man! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me hard Vic! Yes, White Fang needs to mate with me doggy style. Yes! Hump me White Fang!” She could feel that I had built up to the breaking point and shouted, “Yes, Yes! Come inside me, cream my cunt, it’s for you.” I could hold off no longer, flooding her with a blizzard of my pent-up load of pearly white sperm. I pushed her forward onto the bed and pulled the blankets over us and we spooned watching the fire turn to embers while we embraced and drifted into sweet sleep.

It was a little past eight when I awoke with my mind filled with the chores that needed doing to keep us two going while we were snowed-in. First chore was to get the fire going again and work on getting some water back into the tank to heat up as Lily and I were going to want to take a bath after the mess we’d made last night. Then, there was breakfast. Lily stirred, but was going to be a slug in the bed. I figured she needed her rest, since yesterday obviously took a lot of energy out of her.

Outside, it looked like we had about 14 inches of snow fall, but the drifts were much deeper. Lily was awake enough around noon, so I came in and asked how she was feeling? She yawned, “Good, but I’m still kind of groggy. White Fang was marvelous last night you know.” I told her that I had refilled the bath water tank and it should be heated up again. I suggested she take a hot bath, and then I’d serve us breakfast, brunch and lunch all at once. Lily nodded with a smile and crawled out of bed, and strolled casually across the room with her tits swaying and her hips swinging as she looked over her shoulder at me. She had to be doing that intentionally, I thought.

Who teaches women to walk that way? It’s another mystery of the universe.

Once dressed in my clothes again, Lily shuffled over to the kitchen table and was helping herself to a generous plenty of the tortilla meal and re-warmed soup I had laid out. It was a good sign to see her eating well. With not much of our late lunch left on the table, we heard the honking of a horn. I looked out the window and could see my vehicle pulling up in front of the cabin. Rosie parked next to a snow drift and hopped out quickly and came running to the door just as I opened it for her.

She shot quick looks around the interior and saw Lily sitting at the table holding a cup of hot tea.

“Lil! Oh my God! Are you really okay? I can’t believe I almost killed you, I’m so sorry. I was so worried about you.”

Lily tossed her hair over her shoulder with a shrug of her head and half smirked and then smiled broadly, “Thanks Rosie. Yes, I’m doing quite well, thanks to Mr. Vic, a teller of stories and rescuer of maidens in distress.” She giggled at our inside joke as she stood to give Rosie a hug.

Rosie continued unburdening, “I could only think of your dying up here. I’m so sorry I left you in such a terrible position. I’d never forgive myself if I could not come to pick you up alive. Oh yuck! This has been so stressful! I’ve arranged for Katy to feed Jack and your critters tonight until we get back safe, oh and it got really icy in town, lots of trees down and no power. So they’ve canceled school until Thursday.”

“ Oh yeah, I scooped up some clothes for you, they’re still in the car.”

Listening in, I told the girls, “Give me a sec, I’ll put my boots on and fetch them for you, Lily.”

Rosie turned and called to me as I sat to tie my laces, “Oh, Mr. Vic, I also brought some snacks and food just in case you didn’t have enough up here. So you can bring that stuff in too.”

On the passenger seat was a wicker basket hurriedly stuffed with some of Lily’s clothes and a box of cold cuts, bread and chips and candy kind of stuff. I stacked the items and carried them all inside. Lily crossed the room with a bed blanket still slung over her shoulders. She picked through the basket of her clothes as I watched out of the corner of my eye. She slyly parted the blanket so that only I could see, slipping her hand down below the waistband of my boxers she was wearing, poking her fingers through the fly opening and waved them at me. She then slipped into the bath alcove to change into the fresh clothes just delivered to her. Apparently in her haste to pack and get back up the mountain to check on her friend, Rosie had forgotten to throw in any footgear for Lily. Lily came scuffling and shuffling out of the bathroom, dressed warmly in her own clothes, but on her feet were the still damp hiking boots with the laces sliced to pieces by my knife.

I walked over to Rosie who was enjoying warming herself in front of the fire and said, “Thanks for bringing up the supplies of food and togs. My plan is to take you back to your car. Then you can follow me back up here and we’ll load up Lily and her stuff and get the both of you headed back off the mountain.” Rosie nodded her head as she listened. “The sooner, the better. This afternoon’s sunlight is starting to melt the snow, but that snowmelt water is going to start re-freezing real soon now that the sun is going down, making the roads icy and dangerous. Let’s go.”

Lily listened in on our plans and said she’d put together a little meal for when we returned with Rosie’s car. I threw a few more logs on the fire before escorting Rosie out to my SUV. We drove back down the Forest Service road in the 14-inch ruts that Rosie had blazed on her way up to the cabin. “I assume you left your car at the Chimney Mesa Trailhead?” I asked Rosie. She nodded to confirm my logic.

After going a little more than a mile down the highway, I slowed to pull off onto the trailhead, only to see that the storm had piled up some rather deep drifts between the highway and Rosie’s half-buried car. I parked on the shoulder and told Rosie, “I don’t want to risk getting my SUV stuck in a snow drift. Let’s walk to your car from here to make sure everything is okay. Once at the car we found that the strong wind gusts that preceded the heavy snowfall had dropped a 9-inch pine tree right behind the car, effectively blocking its exit even in the best of conditions. The downed tree was covered under a drift, which is why we had not noticed it when we pulled up to the trailhead. "Rosie, between the snow and this Denver-boot of a pine tree, you and Lily are not getting off the mountain tonight. Sorry.”

Rosie’s shoulders slumped as she looked at the situation and then violently kicked at the mounded snow piled next to her rear wheel. “Well. At least I brought some extra food for us all back at your place.” With a dejected slam of my passenger door, she got into my SUV to return to the cabin in brooding silence.

Rosie and I walked back into the cabin to find Lily putting together some bowls of snacks and a spread of leftovers on the table. Rosie told her of their new predicament and as she did so I could see a little smirk show faintly across Lil’s face. “Oh Rose, that is terrible!” said Lily in an obviously over-dramatic voice. “Rosie, you’ve been so busy and so stressed throughout this storm, I have a little plan to help you get over this stressful predicament we girls are in. Let’s just say that we have fallen into Mr. Vic’s graces, being rescued as it were by him. And I think that you owe it to yourself to let go and enjoy a little fun as long as we are stranded up here in the canyon together. I know Mr. Vic can make you forget all about your problems after dinner tonight.”

Rosie seemed suspicious, but also a bit intrigued about the nebulous 'plan’ that her friend had suggested. “Lil, what’s your plan, exactly?”

“Rose, let’s have some supper, then you need a hot steamy bath, and then I’ll tell you about your coming treat when it comes to bedtime for the three of us.”

Lily tossed me a glance, and then asked, “Are you ready to rescue another distressed maiden in the dark and snowy forest, tonight? 'Cause this maiden is indebted to you (and you know what that means). I’m sure Rose will enjoy the cozy, warm and blissful safety in our little snow-bound hideaway.”

Rosie seemed to have an inkling of what her friend was suggesting. After a harrowing couple of days for her, surprising to me, she seemed ready to follow Lil’s lead on this overnight plan. Lily was now in charge of the situation. “Vic, after supper, you make sure Rose has a nice hot bath in which to unwind. You leave the two of us together, because I have a bedtime story to tell my friend, and it’s all true!” she said with a wink in my direction. “It’s going to be a cozy night for all of us in a single bed! Oh my, us poor stranded snow girls.”

Rose joined Lily as they cleaned up after our meal while I excused myself to carry out my orders to draw a nice hot bath for Rosie to relax in. The two ladies were exchanging whispering conversation as they put the small kitchen back in order. The two were soon finished and Lily sauntered over to where I was filling the tub and straightening up the space which had not had much attention since the emergency the previous day. My impression of Rose, once she had snapped out of shock from her mild hyperthermia, was of a no-nonsense woman used to controlling a middle school classroom. She was direct; she would brook no behavior that would challenge her control. Lil even told me that she knew Rosie often came across as a bitch.

Now I noticed that Rose was standing several steps away from Lily, acting shy and nervous. She was looking out the window at the snow drifts in the woods, avoiding giving the impression that she was a willing participant in Lil’s plans for her tonight. Rosie was obviously letting her trusted friend Lily arrange the situation.

Lil stepped into the bath area where I was cleaning up for my guests, she place both of her hands on my left shoulder and stood on tip-toes, to whisper into my ear while Rosie was studiously avoiding looking in our direction. Lily whispered, “Do you remember how I told you last night, to ignore my friend Rosie’s warning not to take advantage of me? Remember, I explained that she doesn’t reall

Snow Flowers: Part 1

Sun, 10 Nov 2024 09:30:46 -0600

Girlfriends lost in the snow are taken in and warmed up.

Based on the posts by SandyMarl, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, 2010

This was not going to be pleasant.

The dimming afternoon sunlight filtering through the skylights of my ‘writer’s hideaway’ told me to expect one of those spasmodic, cold and wet early autumn storms. The north wind was picking up something fierce as it surged down through the canyon, beating on my small cabin at the foot of a lofty ochre sandstone cliff. How brutal was this storm going to be? From the looks of the deep blue-gray clouds rushing in above my skylights, it was going to likely dump a lot of frozen precipitation, the heavy wet stuff. That was fine; these conditions make for good 'story-writing weather’. I’d gotten up here last night and laid in enough supplies to see me through until the sun returned.

Digging out from under this pile of snow and ice would be difficult; I was here for the duration. I was capable of riding out this surprise storm, but for added precaution I needed to bring in some extra firewood and double-checked the generator. Once those chores were finished, I’d be set. Safe, warm and secure. With the added blessing of no cell phone reception in the canyon, these isolated conditions would be conducive to helping me polish up a couple of short stories I’d been working on. I was ready for whatever was ahead, or so I’d thought.

The wind was gusting violently against the north wall of my little cabin, enough to hear and feel its effect inside the small kitchen, well-lit with natural light. In a pinch, I had electricity as long as my generator had fuel. First order of business, I started on making some cold-weather food; a big pot of soup, a batch of spiced chili and some already-prepared grilled meats, good for stuffing into tortillas for later meals. While concentrating on paring the vegetables for the soup pot I listened to the sleet and frozen rain pelting hard against the roof. I was glad I had the fire going and plenty of firewood stacked inside, it’d be miserable to have to go out into the teeth of this monster from the north.

I finished sharpening the blade on my large carving knife (nothing more infuriating than a dull knife.) I had almost finished slicing and chopping the chili ingredients when I heard a muffled thump on my porch. I assumed that the howling wind had driven a fallen pine branch near my door. The thump repeated itself and this time with a scraping sound. I stopped chopping and listened a little more intently. Then there was a sharp kick at the door. This needed investigating. I took a couple of strides toward the door and heard another strike near the base of the door. With carving knife in hand, I flung open the door and saw two young women crouching in the bitter cold, staring up at me from my porch.

I could see they were both in a bad way. One was lying on the icy wooden planks, her hands were white, her lips blue; no wonder, her denim jeans were soaking wet. Her pants had accumulated a noticeable amount of frosty ice covering her legs. She had a light-weight pull-over red hoodie which was completely drenched and was covered with snow and pieces of sleet, making it cling to her torso even tighter. The second woman was stooping over the crumpled and frozen wet form, attempting to drag or push her companion closer to my door. Though her clothes were not dry, neither were they encrusted with sleet like those of her friend’s, although her pants were wet below the knees. She was shivering. With obvious panic in her eyes, she was trying to assess whether the sight of me standing inside the cabin doorway with a large knife was a good thing or another danger. With her bare hands pushing on her fallen comrade’s left shoulder, she looked up at me and pleaded, “Can you help her?”

I punched my knife into doorframe and bent over to grab the frozen form under her shoulders as I directed her friend, “Lift her feet and help me carry her!” I moved backward dragging my hypothermic victim, maneuvering into the bath alcove off the cabin’s one big main room. With urgency we got the victim into the alcove. I barked, “We have to get your friend warmed up now! Get her cold wet clothes off. I don’t think we have much time to bring her back.” My commands were greeted by a blank stare as the gal leaned against the rough wood wall quaking. This second woman was probably going into shock as well. Or at the least she was too cold to respond to their situation in a meaningful way.

I dashed out of the bath alcove, pulled my sharp knife from the door post then slammed the cabin door shut. Stepping quickly back to where I’d left the two young women. I threw open the valve to let the heated water from the roof-top tank next to the chimney flow into my large claw-footed tub. I dipped my hand into the water. The temperature was warm. I was thankful that I had started the fire earlier that morning to be able to supply us with warm water for this emergency.

The shivering, blank-stare woman had knelt beside her friend and had begun to slap her wrists. I rather abruptly pushed her aside and back out of the way toward the door. I slipped the carving blade under the stiff and frozen hoodie just above the left hip of the comatose body on the floor. It took three thrusting motions to slit the hoodie all the way up to the neck. I placed my right hand on her ribs to support myself as I cut off her garments; I could feel that her core body temperature had already dropped dangerously low. I forced the split garment up and off her left arm and rolled the cold body onto her back and tugged hard on the right cuff and pulled off the wet, shredded fabric that was draining precious body heat out of her. I pivoted around on my knee and pulled up on the waistband of her tight blue jeans trying to get a point where I could insert the blade and cut off her frozen pants. There wasn’t much room and I certainly didn’t want to stab her in the gut. So I slipped the blade in on its side just a little way down toward her pelvis and then rotated it 90 degrees and cut through the waistband and followed the seam down her left leg until I had slit open the whole pant leg. She remained on her back, thankfully breathing, but very shallow breaths.

She didn’t move as I operated with my knife. I scrambled over the unresponsive gal and straightened out her right leg laying against the tub; starting at the ankle, I cut up the seam until I had cut her jeans into two halves. I rapidly cut through the laces on each of her boots and pulled them off of her feet along with her little pink socks. Working quickly before I slipped her into the warm water still filling the large tub. I stuck the four fingers of my right hand under her bra and pulled up, giving my blade room to work in her cleavage. With one deft upward slice I’d removed her bra. I felt a twinge of regret that I’d just ruined a very nice-looking piece of lingerie; satiny gold with lace demi-cups which were overstuffed with her ice-capped grand tetons. I then turned to the last bit of clothing on the cold form lying on by bath floor, her panties. Too difficult to pull them off of my frozen visitor, so I easily cut through them. Again, I was struck by sexiness of her matching satin gold panties with lace accents on either side of the hips. I had a fleeting thought of wonder, what kind of woman goes out into the forest, so ill-prepared for an early season storm and goes hiking in a matching, sexy golden lace bra and panty set? Well, whatever kind of woman meets that description, one of them just landed on my door step.

I motioned to her friend watching my work from the doorway and pointed to the knees and ordered her, “Grab under her knees and help me lift her into the tub.” She heard my instructions and did as I had commanded. With a rather ungraceful effort, we managed to submerge her cold body under the tepid warm water.

I told her friend to move over to where I was and hold her head above the water, telling her, “It’d be a shame to save her from hypothermia only to see her drown.” I saw that her shocked friend understood her job, so I said, “Hold her just like that, I’m going to get you something to help you warm up as well.” I returned with a heavy blanket, and extra flannel shirt and a winter jacket. I wrapped the blanket around her as she knelt at the side of the tub holding her friend’s head. I encouraged her, “Keep doing that while I go pump more water into the heating tank and build up the fire.” I had to go outside to work the water pump. The weather was now hitting hard and bringing big wet snow flakes to the ground; that is, once they stopped blowing horizontally. I came back inside and piled some logs onto the fire and then stepped into the bath alcove to see how the situation was going.

As our hypothermia patient lay motionless in the warm water, I opened up the valve and let some more warm water replace the cooling water in the tub. Some flushing was returning the patient’s cheeks; they no longer had the appearance of white wax. The blue of her lips was giving way to a healthy pink. I checked her pulse in her neck and it seemed stronger now than when she arrived and her breathing was a bit deeper and relaxed. I told her friend that I would take over from here and that she should go warm herself by the fire in the other room. She could take off her clothes and dry them and wear the ones I’d given her, or she could just sit by the flames with the blanket around her. She was hesitant to leave me with her naked friend, but I insisted she go get warm and then we would talk.

She sat by the fire for only a few minutes and then walked back to check on her friend (as well as me). She said, “I’m Rosie. The naked woman in your tub, that’s Lily.”

I looked at the small-framed gal draped in my blanket and said, “I’m Vic.”

“Lily and I were just going to hike the canyon for the afternoon, hoping to make it to the top of Chimney Mesa when this storm blew up and caught us. We were surprised by the weather and turned around. By the time we got off the ridge, the wind was blowing pretty hard and the rain was already freezing, mixed with snow. Maybe we took the wrong fork in the trail on the way back to our car. We tried to cross the stream on a fallen log that was supposed to be a bridge, but Lil fell off into the creek and then slipped on an icy rock and ended up completely wet.”

“Rosie, by the time you and Lily stumbled onto my porch, I don’t think your friend would have made it much further down the road. You’re lost and I suspect you’re not very close to where you left your car. Lily had a very low core body temperature and I’m thinking she would have died if I was not up here to spend a few days in my cabin.”

Rosie was wide-eyed at my somber assessment of their erstwhile predicament, but also sounded a note of skepticism; “Do you really think she was that close to death?”

“I do. She was very cold to the touch, her lips were blue, her skin looked like pale wax and you were too much in shock yourself to be of much help with decision making. But you did get her to safety and you saved her life. I am sure of it.”

Rosie nodded in ascent to my analysis, then asked, “How long before we can leave?”

I told her, “I think this storm is going to keep dumping snow at least through tomorrow morning. We may be stuck here together for a couple of three days.”

“Can we get out if we leave right now?” was Rosie next question.

“I wouldn’t advise it” was my honest answer. Rosie was suspicious, and she definitely didn’t like my answer.

Rosie persisted, “We both teach school and we need to be back in the classroom on Monday. And Lil has a dog that needs to be fed. Besides, she will need to get something else to wear. We have to get back in town!”

I told Rosie, “If you take my SUV, and leave right now before it gets dark and the snow piles up any higher and drive in 4-wheel drive, I think you could make it back to town.”

“How can I take Lily with me?” was the next question to complete Rosie’s plan.

I looked at the slowly warming naked woman in my tub and then looked at Rosie. “No. She stays here where it’s warm. She looks like she will recover and be okay. But driving back off this mountain in this storm in her precarious condition is a negative Rosie.”

Rosie’s eyes flashed at my abrupt certainty and the nixing of her plan. She folded her arms across her chest with my heavy blanket still over her shoulders, “Well, I can’t leave Lil naked to the world up here with a strange man in the mountains!”

“Then I better get going to make dinner… and breakfast, and lunch and dinner and breakfast for three. It looks like you’ll miss school and be my guests until maybe Tuesday or Wednesday. And if you’re thinking of calling in the cavalry to rescue you and Lily; you may have noticed that there’s no cell phone coverage in this canyon either.”

Rosie’s jaw was set but she began to tear a little, “That won’t work either. Can I trust you with Lil? I mean if I go right now?”

I cocked my head, and said looking into her cold steel eyes, “It’s your choice. You have my word, and you will have my SUV. It looks to me like Lily is slowly coming around. I’ll take care of her. I’ve got some of my award-winning homemade chili and some soup that will help restore her health once she’s ready for some food. I’ll keep her safe and warm. But if you decide to go back, it better be right now before conditions worsen.”

Rosie seemed defeated, but then looked at me with a fierce determination, “Mr. Vic, I am trusting you and so is Lily. Don’t even mess with us, and you know what I mean. So how do I get out of here?”

I insisted Rosie keep my heavy blanket, and my coat and I sketched her a map of where we were and then I escorted her out and around to the side of the cabin and put my keys in the ignition and shifted it into 4 wheel drive. I pointed her down the Forest Service road, which was quickly filling with drifting snow, telling her, “Keep right at both forks and then take a left when you reached the blacktop highway. You should recognize the way back into town from there.” I adjusted the heater for Rosie, scraped off the accumulated ice from the windshield and sent her off down the mountain.

It was biting cold outside with a cutting wind, so I didn’t linger to see the tail lights disappear down the dirt road away from my cabin. Besides, I had a hypothermia patient to check on back inside. I checked the water temperature and added more warm water to slowly raise her core body temperature. Lily was looking healthier at this point, but I stayed to keep an eye on her. Honestly, she was quite an eyeful. I was guiltily delighted to be looking over this naked woman with perfectly rounded orbs floating just below the water’s surface. I was serious about my job of returning Lily to a healthy 98.6 degrees, but if I’ve got to nurse someone back from near death, I count it as good fortune to get a peek at a beautiful, large titted woman lounging in my hideaway bath tub.

I was refilling Lily’s tub for maybe the fourth time, she heard the running water and opened her eyes. I watched and was expecting a startled reaction, a scream even, or a panic attack at finding herself in a strange bath tub with a strange man next to her. I did not get what I was expecting. She closed her eyes softly as if nodding off for an afternoon nap and then slowly reopened them and looked down at her tit and let her gaze drift down to her toes at the end of the tub. She raised her head and looked at the ceiling. Through the skylight above she could see snow covered pine branches and blowing snowflakes falling from swirling dark, heavy clouds low in the somber sky. Without any show of a startle, she turned her head to me as if she always knew I was there, and said in a whisper, “I feel like I’m in heaven.”

“Lily, you got pretty close to heaven today, but you landed in a safe and warm place back on earth.” I used her name thinking this would sound assuring, but she was yet to seem the least bit startled by her circumstances. “Lily, how are you feeling?” was my follow-up question.

Lily looked out the windows at the tempestuous snow storm kicking around outside, and slowly answered after running a mental check of her thoughts and feelings, then softly replied, “I like it here, but where am I?”

“Lily, what do you remember about today?” was my question to this unconcerned woman in my bath tub.

“I was going to go hiking with a friend to the top of Chimney Mesa, but it got too cold and so I turned around…”, her voice trailed off as her memory unexpectedly ceased to provide any further details.

I told her that she and her friend Rosie got caught in a surprise snow and ice storm. I filled her in on what Rosie had related to me about her mishap and how she was almost dead from hypothermia. She seemed disappointed that she had come close to dying, and then asked, “Is Rosie alright?”

I told her that Rosie had gone back to town to let everyone know what happened to them, feed your dog and get you some clothes. Lily looked again at her body in the warm water and then looked at me, “I don’t have any clothes?”

I laughed as I reached over and picked up her shredded red hoodie and sliced up bra off the floor and showed them to her. “I apologize, but it was all me who is responsible for completely disrobing you in such a destructive manner.”

The corner of her mouth turned down as she peered over the edge of the tub at the rest of her clothes on the bathroom floor. “You destroyed my favorite bra and panty set” she said glumly, “but, you probably saved my life.”

“I am Vic, I am a writer, a teller of stories and when pressed, I am a savior of maidens in distress. But I fear sometimes in order to save said maidens in distress; I have to inflict some collateral damage. Those were very sexy undies you brought out into the cold forest this day, my lady.”

“I’m the kind of gal who likes stepping into pretty things first thing in the morning. I kind of feel it makes the day go better. Though, I guess it didn’t quite work out so well for me this morning. Do you mind getting me something to cover up with? I’d like to get out of this water now.”

I stood to get her a towel from the shelf behind me and offered her my hand to make sure she was steady on her feet as she slowly rose from the water, my very own Venus. She wrapped the towel around her and I handed her a second towel, which she took without comment and wrapped it around the upper portion of her athletic body. I said, “Excuse me, I’m going to go find some of my clothes for you to wear.”

I returned momentarily with an arm load of the few clothing items I had stocked in the cabin. I placed the odd assortment of apparel on the toilet seat and told Lily she’d have to make do until Rosie returned with her own clothes. Meanwhile, I was going to go get some hot food going in the kitchen. I picked the knife up off the bath floor and stepped to the other side of the cabin to heat some soup and chili while Lily dressed in my

Camping In Ireland: Part 2

Sat, 09 Nov 2024 09:31:51 -0600

A tale of firsts, set on a rainy camping trip, among young friends.

Based on a post by Josh stone, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

They stood in the dunes, feeling the sensation returning slowly to their clammy bodies. She grasped the two ends of the massive sheet together, behind his shoulder blades.

Then she stood up on tiptoes slightly, and his thumbs slipped slightly into under the elastic of her pants. She gave a sigh, relaxing into his embrace, and he instinctively pushed her wet knickers down, feeling as they rolled over on themselves as they slipped down her ass. He followed by pulling her wet tee shirt up over her shoulders, where she tugged it over her head, and tossed back by the bags.

She stepped carefully one leg out of the wet panties, returning to the warmth of his arm and pulling him even closer as she did so. Her gentle murmur as his hands felt the shape of her hips and thighs spurred him on, piquing his interest in this new adventure, this new and unusual setting. The absence of wet fabric quickly allowed her pelvis to dry and her body warmth gradually increased. But His wet boxers were still a problem.

Intimacy in the open air.

Their bodies relaxed into one another as they dried out within their towel, and he felt her goose bumps disappear from her legs. She pushed his boxers down, allowing their bodies to have full contact as they warmed up together. She lifted her head towards him, and they kissed for the first time since they had left her tent. He felt a sudden jolt of passion as her free hand reached down his belly and holding his contracted and rippled sack of balls. She continued to fondle his sack gently, and felt warmth return to his crotch. He was glad she wasn’t giving attention to his shriveled wet pecker, which would need much more warmth an blood flow, to resume even a normal flaccid size. It wasn’t even worthy of being called a cock, when shriveled this tiny.

He was preparing an embarrassed explanation for his tiny tally whacker, but it was welcome surprise for him that the awakening of his desire to know every intimate corner of her body, to feel his release at her demand and within her. Had somehow convinced his unconscious brain to re=prioritize rations of blood flow and retention to his promising phallus.

His hands reached her breasts, feeling her nipples hard once more. She moaned as he rolled one between his finger and thumb, the bottom of her breast cupped in his hand as she massaged his balls. Her warmth and dexterity both relaxing and tensing him in turn. They both felt as his cock stirred to her touch, her other hand released the towel and surrounding his shaft, as he swelled.

They stopped to spread the picnic blanket from her bag on the gentle hill of the dune behind them. They found a slight ravine where they could recline and be somewhat concealed by the several dunes, in every direction.

She beckoned for him to join her as she lay on her side, and he lay beside her. Hands were on hips, and kisses deepened. It was as though they were again cocooned in her tent the night before. They were completely warm suddenly, the coastal breeze seemed to pass over their heads and they enjoyed the refuge of these sand ravines.

Both were deeply turned on by the range of senses that had been awoken. Her breath began to quicken as she felt his erection press against her mons. She bent her upper knee and planted her foot to rest, creating an open crotch for him, and he felt as her body tensed slightly when his fingers wandered towards her most private place.

Trying not to spoil a moment she had been enjoying so much, she had hoped he would not notice her anxiety, but knew all too soon that he had. Their kiss ended, his hands moved reassuringly to her shoulders, following her lead.

“Nigel; I’ve never,” She whispered. “I’m. I am enjoying this so much. But I’ve never done this before” Her face flushed red as she revealed this most intimate truth to the man she had only really met 24 hours ago.

He put a hand gently to her face, looking into her deep brown eyes. “Libby; This is new to me, too.” He confessed. “I really have no conscious idea what I’m doing. Our bodies, though, seem to be working in a magical sync, like they’ve done this since the dawn of creation.”

Wry smiles grew on both of their faces as the reality of the situation dawned.

“I was so nervous I would mess things up, I really like you” he said eventually. “I want to explore with you”.

“Me too” she replied “You’ve been giving me such pleasure, I assumed you had been with loads of people before.” They kissed, then she added’ “I want to learn what makes you feel good”.

And so began a time of great learning for both of them. Their inhibitions lifted as they allowed themselves to be honest, to open up, to allow their most deeply-held feelings out to one another.

She traced every inch of his rippled, lean torso, feeling his ribs rise and fall calmly before circling his navel, running her fingers through his salty hair, his pubic hair. He guided her as she stroked his cock, exploring it carefully with her eyes as well as her hands. She felt as he neared the brink of orgasm; then brought him back from the edge with his words helping her to understand this most secret of connections. She kissed him tenderly, on his arms, his chest, his cock, her lips gently enveloping the tip, tasting his precum, feeling him harden in her mouth. She licked his length, learning how a change of pace or pressure affected him physically, hearing from him what felt good. It was beautiful for both of them, a symbol of trust, and a marker of a new chapter in their lives, their relationship. This was not simply about orgasm, about release, it was also about connection. He was not ready to collapse, not yet. So he withdrew from her mouth, telling her about how sensual it was, how much pleasure she had given him.

He felt her hip bones with eager hands, brought hands to her ass, felt the way textures changed. He put his hands on her thighs, felt as she moved onto her back, her legs opening, relaxing. He felt the softness of her inner thigh, how it became softer and softer as his hands neared her groin. She told him how much she wanted him to touch her, showed him how to touch her clitoris. He felt her wonderful heat again as his finger, wet with her moistness, explored delicate folds of skin. He had never seen a woman’s vagina before, not in real life. He saw the way her labia darkened as he touched her, felt as her clitoris seemed to retract and then harden as she touched him. She was so open to him, so relaxed, her breathing deep and her chest was rising visibly. As he placed a finger at the entrance to her hot moist cunt, she groaned, urging him to explore inside her. His finger slipped more easily inside than he remembered from last night, her legs rising slightly as he felt her vaginal walls envelop his hungry finger. Another finger slid inside, and she told him to move them against each other inside her. As her hips rose further, she pulled her knees to her chest, and he felt the strong muscles at the entrance to her cunt open up, encouraging his fingers, deeper and deeper. He felt more horny in that moment than he could ever remember feeling before, as he saw her bulging vulva, wet with excitement, and so clearly trusting him to give her pleasure.

She was nearing orgasm, her breaths were shallower and her guidance less necessary. It was so exciting to be outside together. He was desperate, suddenly; to be even more intimate. He dipped his head between her legs and gingerly licked her clitoris, trying to emulate what his fingers had done at first. His fingers were still deep within her, and he felt her tighten around him as his tongue began to explore her tiny nub. She guided him once more, telling him to lick around her inner labia, her clitoris too sensitive to be the sole focus of his attentions. He saw as she began to play with her nipples, felt her reach for his cock.

But she surprised him. Instead of stroking him as before, she moved her body round, lying flat on her back and taking one of his legs and pulling over her torso, then sliding up so her cunt was directly under his mouth. Then she put her hand behind his head, and guiding it down to her vulva.

As he focused on his oral adventure between her thighs, he felt the exquisite feeling of her taking his turgid cock in her mouth; as he licked her clitoris.

It was the softest and most stimulating thing either of them had ever felt. There was absolute trust in both of them as they pleasured each other, her tongue and lips winding around his cock, as hard as it had ever been.

His tongue licked her whilst his arms wrapped around her ass, and his hands parted her labia, feeling her wetness combined with his saliva running down his hand, between her legs and between the cheeks of her perfectly-formed ass.

She felt as he inserted his fingers once more, and he felt as her cunt began to ripple, to contract around him, her panting building to a crescendo as she took him deeper into her mouth. They were in a sort of magical rhythm where both tension and a deep calm overcame any inhibition that might have previously existed.

His fingers squirmed as her spasms grew, she felt wave after wave of pleasure dominating her body.

“Oh, Nigel! Oh, Nigel. You’re Amazing!” was heard by the birds in the area, but no one else.

As she was in her climatic bliss, his ability to hold back got weaker and weaker. He felt as the crown of his cock felt a soft place in her mouth, the warmth of her kisses overwhelming him. He felt as his balls contracted, felt as his orgasm built, not immediately like when he touched himself, but almost in slow motion. And then it arrived.

“Libby, here it comes, ah, ah!” he shouted.

He exploded in her mouth, releasing a guttural, almost primal shout as he came. She felt as he pulsed between her lips, tasted his semen for the first time.

“Oh, my fucking gawd, Libby!” You’re a sex goddess, baby!” He finally declared.

They held each other tighter in that moment than they had ever held anyone before, her nails digging into his thighs as his tongue gently lapped at her opening.

It was only after the sun began to come out that they moved from their embrace, his cock now soft, and his head resting on her thigh. She turned her body round so that they could kiss each other’s mouths, and both could taste each other, the salt of the sea, a relaxedness returning. They lay in each other’s’ arms as the sun shone, warming their naked bodies in that most beautiful of settings. And they knew that the next week would be one of further exploration, of firsts for them both.

Nigel and Sonia, Homeward Bound.

The journey back to London was long and tiresome. Ferries, trains, carrying heavy packs. Libby bailed on her girlfriends and rode back with Nigel. This gave the new lovers some endless hours of private conversation and further cemented their bond.

He told her of his empty house, his parents away until Tuesday. Would she like to come and stay?

She immediately accepted his hospitality.

By the time they had got in, put a wash on, eaten takeout, and had a shower, they were spent. Eyes closing and ready for bed. This felt different to being away, and they were now even more nervous somehow.

“Have I satisfied you, Nigel?” Libby asked as they completed the late meal.

“And then some, Libby.” Nigel admitted. “ I honestly need to give my sore cock a break til morning, if you can allow me?”

“Oh, thank God!” My poor cunny is stroked and licked raw, and reamed out by the greatest lover in all of the British empire!” Libby finally expressed her relief.

And so they both fell quickly into sleep, lying in each other’s arms, tender kisses and good nights. Tomorrow would be another day. But he awoke sometime early in the morning, as she shifted in her sleep and he felt differently in his half-slumber.

His hands moved slowly on her warm skin, feeling her muscles completely relaxed as she slept deeply, the sound of her deep breaths synchronized with his own. Only semi-conscious, he moved instinctively, his mind still foggy, somewhere between consciousness and slumber. The tips of his fingers reached round and down, holding her thigh ever so gently, tiny hairs the only contrast to her smooth, soft skin as he ran them along her body towards her body. As he felt her flesh draw inward, her softness giving way to the strong muscles of her groin, he rotated his wrist, pushing his hand down the front of her thigh and gradually down to her knee, noticing the change in texture as he reached her kneecap. A long breath, followed by a deep swallow.

He became more conscious as he squeezed her leg ever so slightly, cautious not to awaken her, seeking more feedback and releasing a little tension. He trailed his hands back up her thigh, reaching around the outside to trace her hips, stopping where his skin met the cotton of her underwear. He felt the thin band of elastic at the edge of her knickers and followed this with this index finger slowly and deliberately upwards until he reached the front of her body, the point at which it began to curve back inward and down into more intimate space. His palm lay flat on her hipbone as his fingers stretched and splayed, relaxed but inquisitive, and he considered what might come next.

She shifted slightly, her hand adjusting the elastic of her waistband, and she muttered something inaudible. He descended back into his dreams, his hand on her under the thin sheets on that sticky summer night.

He woke as she shifted her body, her leg slightly bent as she relaxed her hips. His hands held her thigh at their highest point, with the top of his hand feeling the fabric of her panties whilst his fingers sensed the tender skin at the very limit of her thigh. His grip tightened a little as he noticed his heart rate rise, his left hand shifting slightly on the bedsheets beside him.

He lay for some time, enjoying the peace and sensuality of the moment, enjoying the memory of exploring her body and his own. He could hear her deep breaths, sense her chest rising and falling, and feel her long hair against his face as they lay side by side, his body slightly turned towards hers as she lay sleeping on her back.

His index finger explored her thigh once more, more intentionally than before, and he reached the edge of her knickers once again. This time, his finger felt downwards, between her legs, until he could reach no further. He loved the point where her thigh met her groin, where her skin became covered by cloth, and where he knew she was most sensitive. His finger began, ever so slowly, to feel across the hem and then the soft cotton of her pants. He felt the change in texture as her smooth skin gave way to soft, downy hair under the fabric as it rose from the firmness of tendon to the softness of gently rounded labia. She took one sharp breath. His quickened.

His fingers hesitated as he reached the point where her labia met beneath her underwear. He could feel her cleft under his soft touch, and imagined being able to see her, so familiar and yet so secret and mysterious, even after all these months. His fingers followed the line of her slit until he reached the mound above her clitoris. The slight rise of the space where he knew her labia covered her most sensitive place, his finger stopped. He felt as her breathing quickened a touch, or at least he thought so. His temptation growing as she swiveled her hips upwards a fraction, only to relax again a moment later.

In the gloom he tried to recall her underwear in his mind. Pale cotton, white, or possibly cream, simple in design with a plain band around the leg, a broader, flat waist-band with a stitched brand name in the same color as the rest. He could just make out the raised letters as he drew his finger tentatively up to the top of her knickers.

As he felt her skin again, his palm laid flat against her. He waited. She did not speak or change position, but a deep intake of breath gave him courage, a sign of her satisfaction. Her stomach was warm and flat and the ball of his hand lay on her belly button, two fingers slipping ever so slightly beneath the waistband of her knickers. Nervous of misjudging the moment, he arched his hands, the tips of his fingers moving slowly up her body. He circled her naval, moving in on each rotation until his finger found itself inside and her strong stomach muscles tensed a soft, voiceless sound emerging from her mouth. He was emboldened and turned his body to face hers for the first time. As his hand crept upward, he felt the ribbed fabric of her vest-top. He brought his hand up until he felt her right breast in his hand. Her small breast fitted easily into his hand, with his thumb reaching around to her sternum, then arching over her firmness, feeling her nipple hardening as he did so. As he noticed her hardening, he felt his own arousal growing.

Between his thumb and forefinger, he rolled her nipple gently again and again through her top. Her breaths were becoming shorter, and he knew she was feeling the same as he was, relaxed, sensuous and warm. She lifted her top, exposing her breasts in the darkness, and he felt her nipples properly for the first time. They were very small and very hard, rising from slightly puffy areolae, perfectly formed. He could not wait any longer, and brought his head to her chest, licking around her nipples, then taking one lightly into his mouth. He sucked her gently, his tongue exploring the slight variations in texture between her nipples, her areola and the skin surrounding them. He brought his other hand round and caressed her other breast, his erection beginning to push against the fabric of his boxer shorts.

She spoke for the first time, uttering his name in hushed tones as he pleasured her breasts, reaching for his boxer shorts as he sucked her into his hot mouth. She pushed them down until she could reach no further, and he took over, taking them down over his legs and feet as she hurriedly removed her clothes. As she lifted her vest over her head, she raised her arms, then folding them around his strong back, their naked bodies fully in contact for the first time since they had got back. She felt as his erection pressed against her stomach, her breasts, slick with his sliver, pressed against his chest, and their breathing fast and synchronous. They both knew in that moment that they would give themselves to the other tonight, a new experience for them both, exciting but without fear.

She rose onto her knees, turning the green lamp on that sat beside their bed. “I want to see you” she told him, as she looked down at his body, his cock hard and large. As she lowered her head, he felt his erection strengthen, felt the softness of her lips as they kissed and then enveloped the tip. She tasted his pre-cum as her tongue ran in circles around him, her lips exploring the contours of his cock. She slowly took more of him into her mouth, felt as he groaned, knew of his pleasure. He told her he loved the feel of her mouth around her, loved it when she took him deeper inside. She wanted more than anything to give him the release she knew he longed for, and changed angles, her saliva running around him, leaking from her mouth and down to his balls. Her hands cupped him, feeling this wetness and she stopped momentarily, lifting her head and licking him excitedly up his shaft. She shifted onto her side, her hands helping her to slip one of his balls into her soaking mouth as her hands took over on his cock, and she felt as his scrotum co

Camping In Ireland: Part 1

Fri, 08 Nov 2024 09:31:25 -0600

A tale of firsts, set on a rainy camping trip, among young friends.

Based on a post by Josh stone, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

The Night Storm

Surrounded by flimsy, billowing nylon, the wind howled outside. The fly sheet occasionally touching the inner when the buffeting storm blew strongly enough, and patches of damp were beginning to appear where the outside was attempting to breach the inner. The light was fading outside and somehow the dankness of the evening was everywhere within. He stayed at the campsite while the others had headed for the village in the coast of Southwest Ireland. Local lads had told of a party, beer, and ‘opportunity’.

Inside her large nylon tent with him, she also lay, the two rather unknown to one another. Her head at the far end, and his head near the zips, forming the door. Their two sleeping bags were zipped up, and they were each warm and safe, escaping as they had into the nearest dry tent they found. Her tent.

The severe weather overtook the two after the rest of the group had departed for a party, in the village.

There was a silent tension, which neither of them could quite understand. Cordial talk of home, of family and of newly forming college friendships. The trip was planned by just a few of those participating. But by word of mouth the invites expanded the event, until it became a motley crew of friends-of-friends-of-friends. She was invited by her friend next door, who was a cousin of the guy who invited a guy who invited him. Even the travel was done in a loose caravan. He drove his own SUV. She caught a ride in her neighbor’s Honda Civic.

Conversation flowed easily enough; but their bodies were somehow tense, his legs were restless.

To break the growing silence, he shuffled out of his sleeping bag and explained that he was going to fetch water and his ‘head torch’. A flashlight gadget mounted to an elastic headband, for hands-free illumination. Was there anything she wanted?

His tent was damaged when a pole snapped. They quickly grabbed his ‘essentials and took refuge in her ‘family tent’ which she had all to herself.

The others would be away for hours yet. Who knows if the other tents will survive this barrage?

Arriving back, he carefully unzipped her tent door, He removed his boots and waterproofs, just inside; so as to keep them as dry as possible, and to prevent any remaining dry contents of the tent from getting wet. A ritual he had become so used to these last few days, of the perpetual Irish rain. As he entered the main section of the tent, a shiver ran down his spine as a drip fell down his face from his soaking wet hair.

“Thank you for staying back at camp. I’m not sure how I’d feel about this weather, if I was alone on this strange coastline.” She said.

“I wonder how the group is doing, and how bad the weather is where they are?” He wondered aloud.

“Maybe they got in a jealous fight with some local guys, and are all now safe and sobering up in the county jail?” she giggled.

She was watching his faint silhouette through the gloom. Then she sat up, holding out a slightly damp towel and rubbing his wet head. He collapsed on his bag, still shivering. He lay for a moment, noticing his head was near to hers this time; sensing her eyes on him, without looking himself. She pulled his open bag up over his body and to his chin. Then settled back into her own cocoon.

The rain had increased its percussive hammering; at once deafening and consoling. Silence fell once more.

After some time, she raised her arm above her head, stretching slightly with a yawn. He did the same. Held above, unsteady, arms began to move towards one another. Tiredness was mentioned, the rain, wondering how the party was going. Slowly, slowly, their hands met in mid-air. Fingers wrapped gently around fingers, a cold palm met a warm palm. He now understood the tension for the first time.

Arms began to ache, held up as they were. They were lowered between bodies, bodies were turned towards one another in symmetrical, silent adjustment. The light was now so dim that little could be made out in the dark of the tent, but he didn’t reach for his torch. They lay there for perhaps an hour, hand in hand, completely still and without a word uttered. He thawed out, warmed up, relaxed.

She felt the sensuality of the moment, and deeply waited. At some point, they both noticed the breath of the other, first in the rise and fall of chests, and then in breath on cheeks, breath on lips. They became synchronous, breathing deeply, imagining each other’s face, only centimeters away from their own. At some point their lips finally met.

Both he and she were filled with the yearning of youth, yet relaxed and warm, protected from the elements, protected by each other. Their kiss was deep and relaxed. Her full lips parted and her tongue slipped slowly into his mouth, sensing for the first time his heat, his desire. His senses awakened, he became aware of the smell of wood smoke on their clothes, the smell of her hair.

He brought a hand up to her neck, felt her dark hair between his fingers as he held her close. Their tongues explored each other’s lips, their faces and necks, and the pouring rain disappeared amidst their enjoyment. She shifted her body, unzipping her sleeping bag and pulling his leg across, his between hers. She put a hand on the small of his back, he mirrored her movements. His hand glancing across her back, feeling ribbed cotton of her top, her skin beneath. Her hand gliding up. under his flannel shirt, tingling his bare skin.

On they kissed, their mouths wet and hot. Somehow, without either being aware, their bodies were now pressing together more, as he put his hand gently over her ass. His denim jeans became slightly stiff as he moved his hand, feeling the contours of her behind. He felt her thigh press ever so gently around his own, felt as his cock began to respond to her movement. This was what he had been hoping for, what he had imagined so many times, back in the city. Her movements became more and more definite, and his confidence grew. Her hands were on his ass now, and he sensed her need for more.

His hand went up her side smoothly, in one movement. He felt the bottom of her bra and the bulge of her small breasts beneath her vest top. Her breathing began to deepen as his thumb cupped her. Full breast.

In a graceful motion, she arched her back and lifted off her top, then settled back down, flat on her back. Without any self-awareness, his body rolled on his side, to fill the vacuum left by her re-positioning.

He could feel the slightly elastic cotton material of her bra more clearly under his fingers now. He felt the plain hem as the cotton dipped towards the middle of her chest. She was perfectly formed, her breast fitting perfectly into his hand. As his fingers reached the underwire of her bra, he reached into the other side, feeling the flesh of her breast for the first time. She jumped as his hand brushed over her nipple, her tongue pushing further into his mouth as they embraced.

Fingers retracted slightly, and his index finger and thumb held her tiny nipple gently. It was hard and clearly sensitive, judging by her reactions, and the skin around it was the softest he had ever felt. His erection was now clearly felt by both of them.

He fumbled as he attempted to unclip her bra, only to discover the absence of any back clips at all.

She came to the rescue, reaching into the valley between her orbs, and flicking the front clasp in a swift release. The stretch cloth cups swiftly retracted, instantly stripping her tits of any further obstructions.

She was laughing with him as she lifted it over her arms. With the strappy garment out of the way, she reached her far hand around his shoulder, and leveraged her torso and hips, so the two were pressing their pelvises against each other, still clothed and getting hotter.

In the dimness of the evening, neither of them was able to see each other. Now he would have to explore by touch alone. Neither could benefit from the facial expressions of the other. Their actions stood alone, in expressing desire and pleasure.

Her pelvis was rocking backwards and forwards against him in a slow and steady rhythm as he lowered his head to affectionately kiss each of her nipples. Less noticeable was his ascent over her body. He lay above her, his body arched as his lips and tongue explored first one, and then the other. The skin around her nipples began to wrinkle and tighten. His elbows propped his torso up, while his hands held two perfect orbs, as she breathily told him how good it felt.

As he sucked her, she felt his sucking on her nipples deeply across her body. In her breast, in her stomach, between her legs.

When she could stand no more, she pulled him over and before he knew it, he was flat on his back, just inches from the sidewall of the tent, and she was once again kissing him deeply.

Her hands found his defined chest, before plunging downwards, toward his waist.

He grimaced and her weight on his cock became a discomfort.

As her pelvis twerked aggressively, she felt his erection through his trousers for the first time. Instinctively she shuffled down on his thighs, as her hand reached his bound up cock.

He subconsciously pinched her nipples hard, and her fingers pinched his phallic crown.

They broke to re-center themselves in the center of the tent. Then she knelt straddling his thighs. She was now knelt and vertical, over his thighs, and fumbling to find his zipper waistband snap.. Her gentle movements up and down his erection became more and more confident, and she took his hand, guiding it to her still-clothed crotch..

He had heard about girls getting hot, but he was still astonished at how much warmth was radiating from her. He could feel the shape of her vulva beneath her jeans, could feel her athletic legs as they joined her torso. Suddenly there was a desperation in the tent. Both she and he became impatient to explore further.

She finally unsnapped and unzipped his barrier, and pulled his trousers open. He arched to raise his ass off the floor. She quickly slid his jeans down to his ankles. Meanwhile he removed his top.

As he was doing, so she sat back and unbuttoned her jeans, slipping them over her slim hips, then sat back while she drew her legs up, to finish removing the tight, form-fitting blue jeans.

Her knees were now raised in the tent as she pulled the tight denim over her ankles. He pictured what she would look like, imagined her legs now free for him to explore. She leaned back, supported by her extended arms, while she enjoyed his explorations.

He took her foot, still raised towards her chest, and traced her smooth leg up her calf, past her knee. He felt as the flesh softened on the underside of her thigh, felt as it curved up towards her ass cheek.

And then he felt them. Her pants were as he had imagined. Plain, thin snug cotton from the feel of them. He cupped her buttocks in both hands. In the pitch dark he was feeling her open her hips up so his hands could feel the inside of her thighs. The unspoken invite compelled him to reach inwards, to feel the edge of her knickers.

He was not at all certain. He’d heard others talk of course, had read things. But he had never been able to do this before. A surge of anxiety suddenly flooded his body. Uncertainty threatened to take over.

As if by instinct, she took charge. Taking his hand, she moved it across her vulva, rested it on the hot mound which was beneath the thin layer of cotton stretched across it. He felt her thin pubic hairs beneath, the damp line forming where he knew her opening lay.

He moved his fingers across the place where he imagined her clitoris would be. That’s when he felt her cleft, the softening of her, the point at which his finger was able to press a little deeper, where the resistance of her crotch gave way to heat and openness. He stroked in small circles, finding a rhythm and the right place. He was quickly learning by her breathing and subtle movement. Her soft panting was a good indication of her enjoyment, his insecurity beginning to disappear.

She slid both her hands up is thighs, then felt the tight fabric of his boxers. Gently feeling the ascending contours, she fingers met at the apex, when she heard his groan.

He saw none of this, lying there in the deep darkness of this rainy night. But the soft touch disappeared from his phallic crown. Then he felt two soft hands on his inner thighs. They explored the caverns under his loose boxer shorts, until they again met at the maypole of this holiday.

Her thumbs rubbed the underside of his rigid mast, while her index fingers gently petted his wide spongy crown.

The hefty and labored breathing instinctively counseled her to redirect her affections.

She slid the fingers of both her hands down, around his hairy sack. While she elevated the package, both her thumbs explored the enclosed contents. Two plump meatballs responded to her thumbs’ manipulation. She even explored the cords and tubes which came from the balls and exited up into his pelvis.

Then she extracted both hands and slid them up over his remaining garment. At the top of his hips, she firmly hooked the waistband and pulled at his boxer shorts, thus releasing his erection in the cold of the tent. He felt as one hand cupped his balls, massaging him slowly, as the other hand wrapped his naked cock again.

He feared he would not be able to hold on, but his focus on her enjoyment and the temperature of the tent helped him push this urging aside for now.

She explored his textures and shapes with her thumb. He groaned and sat up, as she began to move her hand up and down his cock. She felt every detail of his length, his foreskin, the tip of him wet with precum now on her thumb.

She lifted her knees up once more, enabling him to pull her panties over her hips and up her legs, as carefully as he could. He was on his knees as her legs extended out, now finally free of restrictive fabrics.

She pulled him against her bosom as she laid her legs down to his side, and they lay beside one another. He cupped her bare ass with one hand, while his other arm wrapped under her shoulder, to stroke her back.

He was feeling his cock upwardly pressed between their hot bodies on the mess of sleeping bags. Their kiss was more open and natural than before. They lay together, her breasts against his bare chest. Again her hips began to move, his leg upper leg between hers. Her upper leg slowly came up and her lower leg hooked around his ass, so they could move as one. And this time, his movements matched hers. His hard cock rubbing against her soft downy pubic hair. It was exquisite.

His hands reached around her toned ass until he felt her warmth, and his fingers traced the edge of her soft outer labia, her tender skin covered with fine hairs. She rotated her hips back, giving his fingers increased access, and his heart raced as he felt up to where they met once more above her clitoris. Her tongue licked the nape of his neck as he began, ever so tentatively, to circle her nub with his finger. Then his thumb began slipping ever so slightly between her hot folds. He had never felt anything so sublime. He felt her tiny clit grow beneath his finger, the wetness on his finger gliding across, around, within.

Her wetness was like hot syrup, slippery and inviting. He was desperate to explore.

Sensing his desire, she rolled onto her back, allowing her legs to part slightly. He got to his knees once again, still making love as a blind man. He stroked her legs gently, following her contours from both her knees up to her vulva. He felt the soft line of pubic hair and used both hands to offer the softest line around her now-engorged lips. As his fingers met at her clitoris, he allowed his left hand to part her a little, his right feeling her wetness fully for the first time, and she nearly came immediately when his finger slipped easily into her tight cunt.

He shuffled astride her body a little, allowing her hands to reach him once more, at the moment she drew a finger from the base of his cock all the way to his tip. His sack nuzzled between her crotch, his pole elevated like the canon of a battleship.

He scooted back down a bit, to further explore the dark cave of her womb, where he discovered the hot ridges of muscle within her body as she tilted her hips towards him. He heard her pant as he began to move his finger inside her. Her one hand came to her clitoris, to accent his strokes, while her other hand embraced and stroked slowly on his erection as he began to understand how to please her.

Her right hand now rubbing her clitoris vigorously. She told him to add another finger, and the sounds became louder, her voice, his voice, the wetness between her legs as his fingers moved within. In the dark and with the others miles away, there was no need to hold back.

His fingers working in and out of her soaking hole, and he felt her muscles contract around his digits as her pace grew more and more frantic on his cock. “I’m going to come” she cried in a guttural voice he hadn’t heard before, and her legs began to shake as she lifted her ass up towards him. He felt as she squeezed his fingers with her strong vaginal muscles and surge after surge of contractions around his fingers were matched with her squeezing of his cock as she choked it. As she shouted, he groaned. His senses lost equilibrium as his hips began to tingle. Then a pressure hit his cock and streams of his seed flowed from him. She felt the heat of his semen as it landed in strings across her stomach and groin.

They collapsed in an exhausted embrace. His fingers slipped from her cunt, and she released his scepter, as their orgasms pervaded.

He laid over her, with a thin layer of semen allowing their torsos to slip and slide.

Their breathing steadied as they kissed once more, a first time for both of them, the evening’s pleasures replaying in both of their minds as they drifted into dreams, the rain still hammering on the tent and the wind howling around them as they slept.

He awoke in a tangle of limbs and clothes. It was now light outside the tent, but there was no sign of life from the others yet. The rain had stopped and he noticed the special quiet that often emerges after a storm. Then, he noticed how cold he was.

Gathering her sleeping bag around them both, he pulled her close, her body was warmer than his. His hands held her tanned shoulder, the muscles of her upper back flexing slightly as she brought herself towards him in her slumber.

She rolled him onto his back, then rested her head on his bare chest. The thick sleeping bag pulled up over both their heads.

He felt as her breasts pressed against his chest, her twitch he moved his hand to the small of her back. He began to doze off, half asleep once more, and yet he couldn’t help but imagine, to remember the night before, and to fantasize about what might lie ahead.

She was next to stir. Her brown eyes opened, taking in the man she had allowed to be so close last night. A private smile, a finger on his blonde eyebrow, tracing the shape of his angular face, his nose. And now he awoke, their eyes meeting as each pulled the other closer in the cold.

She felt as his hand moved lower, cupping her ass softly as she sighed. Morning greetings were made, eye contact holding, smiles being shared.

They kissed with the softness of morning, the urgency of the night before now gone. Each looked into the others’ eyes as their lips parted, their tongues meeting in a slow and comfort

Advanced Sexual Education: Part 4

Thu, 07 Nov 2024 09:31:15 -0600

Samantha’s New Toy.

Based on a post by smalltitslovr, in 4 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

of my thighs slide against each. I knew if Tristan didn’t stop soon, I would have an entire other problem.

Finally, Tristan stopped. He put the remote back on the bench, and stood up. “Well, I gotta head to class now,” he said. “See you around, Samantha. Nice to meet you.”

I couldn’t say anything, because I knew my voice would give away what I was feeling, so I simply nodded to him. Then he turned around and left.

As soon as he was turned around, I grabbed the controller, and turned the knob all the way down, and finally, the buzzing stopped. As I caught my breath, I looked down. When Tristan was far enough away, I opened my legs a little, and assessed the situation.

The denim material between my legs was completely soaked with my cunt juices. I was also now regretting choosing a pair of shorts that were so short. I could see the inside of my thighs were shiny.

I started to wipe away what I could, but then I noticed some people approaching nearby. So, I grabbed

A lesson on oral sex.

Monday morning came, and it was time to go to ASE, once again. I got up, took a shower, then got dressed. Like usual, I knew it didn’t really matter what I wore, because I would be naked in class anyhow. So, I pulled on a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt, not bothering with underwear. Then I grabbed my bag, and headed to class.

I was running a little late, so I was nearly last to arrive. When I entered, I was greeted by the lovely sight of 11 naked students, sitting, waiting for class to start. I quickly pulled my shirt off, and saw the other three missing students (Alex, Eric, and Sofia) had just arrived as well. We all stripped, and soon Ms. Sharon came in, naked as usual.

“Hello everyone,” she said. “I hope you had a good weekend. Everyone, please get with your partners.”

A couple minutes later, and I was seated next to Alex and Tony. Everyone else was seated with their partner(s) as well.

“Good. As we learned in our last class, the human body reacts to various stimuli. We demonstrated and observed this with sex toys. Today, we’ll take this a step further, and move on to oral intercourse. Who can tell me what oral sex is?”

Nobody else seemed eager to speak up, so I raised my hand.

“Yes, Samantha.”

“Well, oral sex is when one person uses their mouth to pleasure someone else.”

“Correct. There are three basic types of oral sex. Arguably the most common (although there’s no real way to prove it) is fellatio, also known as giving head, or a blow job, among other names. This is when a person uses their mouth to suck on a male’s cock. Let’s go ahead and practice that now.

"Although this can be performed by males, we won’t be covering homosexual intercourse for a few more classes. So, I will ask that all the females in the class please perform this act on your partners. Samantha, please do this for both Alex and Tony. Everyone, take special note of how much length you can take in your mouth, and try to take as much as you can. Also, guys, please don’t cum just yet. I’ll give you time for that in a little while.”

Ms. Sharon then turned to John and Eric, and got on her knees. With no hesitation, she grabbed John’s cock, and put her lips around it, sliding it deep inside her mouth.

Looking away, I turned to Alex and Tony. “Alright,” I said. “Who’s first?”

They looked at each other, and both raised their hands. I smiled, and down on my knees. I moved closer, until I was between Tony’s legs, which he had opened wide for me. His cock was only slightly hard, but as soon as I grabbed it, it grew quickly.

I hesitated at first, because I hadn’t ever tasted a guy’s cock before, so I started by licking the tip. It tasted a little salty, but not too bad. Then I slowly put my lips around the tip, and slid it across my tongue. Inch by inch, I took his manhood into my mouth, until I felt the tip push against the back of my throat.

Remembering Ms. Sharon’s words, I pushed it further, until I felt myself start to gag. I knew it was possible to take more, but I couldn’t make myself do it. I stopped at about four inches. Then, I slid it back out. Before removing it, though, I felt Tony’s hand on the back of my head. He gently pushed me back down, and I didn’t resist. Soon, with Tony’s guidance, I was bobbing my head up and down on his cock. I sped up, and kept sucking on him. I felt him start to throb in my mouth, and I knew he was close to cumming. I wasn’t ready for that, so I pulled his cock out, and leaned back.

“Thank you, Samantha,” he said. His cock throbbed up and down, but I didn’t see any cum.

After taking a moment to catch my breath, I turned to Alex. “Your turn.” I said, smiling up at him.

I moved forward, until my head was between his thighs. His cock was in his hand, and it appeared he had been jacking off while watching my performance with Tony. He aimed his cock at my face. With no hesitation this time, I opened my mouth, and graciously accepted it. It was smaller than Tony’s, but I still couldn’t quite take the whole thing on the first thrust. On the second one however, I stopped when it hit my throat, and realized there was only about half an inch left, so I pushed myself, and took the tip down my throat, until I felt my lips touch his balls. Then I pulled back out. He thrust into me a few more times, then pulled all the way out.

I reached up and cleaned a little bit of drool and pre-cum from my lips, then got up and sat back in my chair. Looking around, it looked like I was last to finish, and everyone had been watching me.

“Excellent job, everyone,” said Ms. Sharon, with a smile. “I hope you all enjoyed that as much as I did.

"Now, the other type of oral sex is called cunnilingus; the act of orally pleasuring a woman. This is usually done by licking and sucking on the girl’s labia, but can also involve sticking the tongue inside her. Guys, please practice this on your partners now.”

I turned back to the boys, and waited for their lead. They looked at each other and decided Alex should go first. As he moved closer, I leaned back, and spread my legs. He put his head down, and gave my cunt a long lick. Of course, by this time, I was very wet, so he got a good taste of my juices.

Then he put his mouth in between my legs and started going at it. I lifted my legs up to give him a good angle. I noticed many of the girls around the room were in much the same position. Alex continued licking my cunt, then he sucked on my lips. After a few seconds of that, he pushed his tongue inside me, which felt amazing. Then he pulled his head away.

Alex moved away, and Tony immediately took his place. There was only about 3 seconds between when Alex pulled his head away, and Tony put his lips on mine. I could immediately tell Tony had done this before. He immediately found my clit, and teased it with his tongue. Then he slowly slid his tongue down, until it was at my hole, and he started fucking me with it. I let my head fall back, and enjoyed it. He continued for about a minute, then pulled his head away.

Once again, our group was last to finish, since there were three of us. Tony took his seat, then Ms. Sharon stood up.

“Good job, everyone,” she said. “Now, there are many positions involving oral sex, but the one that comes up more than any other is the 69.” She turned around and drew the number on the board. “It is named this, because the two bodies take this shape. One person lies down, and the other lies on top of them, facing the other way. What’s unique about this position is it’s one of the only ways that two partners can give and receive oral sex simultaneously.

"Now, I’d like each group to demonstrate this position. Guys lay on the floor on your back, and the girls will get on top of you.”

Alex laid down first. Once he was ready, I got on my knees, then straddled his face. He immediately started licking my cunt again. I let him go at it for a moment, enjoying it, and looked around.

A few of the girls were facing the wrong direction, and couldn’t figure out what they were doing wrong. Amy looked particularly perplexed, as she mounted her partner in a cowgirl position, with his cock pressed against her ass cheeks. I didn’t get to see if she eventually figured it out, since I decided it was time to start sucking on Alex.

I leaned forward, and I found that my mouth was at exactly the right spot to suck on his dick. So I did. As I sucked on him, he licked me and tongue-fucked me. After a good five minutes, Tony tapped me on the shoulder. I looked up, and realized I hadn’t given him a turn yet. So, I got up, he laid down, and I took the same position again, but over Tony this time.

Doing this position with Tony was much better, probably because I was already worked up. Also, his cock was bigger and tasted better. While I sucked on Tony, he ate me out, and it was amazing.

After too short a time, I heard Ms. Sharon’s say, “Alright everyone. That’s enough. Please return to your seats.”

I reluctantly took Tony’s cock out of my mouth, and stood up. A few moments later, we were all back in our seats.

“Excellent work everyone,” Ms. Sharon said. “Now, I only have one activity left, and then you may all leave. But before we begin, I have a few things to say, in regards to future activities and assignments.

"First off, today will be our last class that does not involve full-on intercourse. That means that if you have not already lost your virginity, and would like to do so in your own way, I would advise you to do so before the next class.

"Secondly, beginning today, you will have a homework assignment given at the end of each class, based on that day’s topic. A few guidelines for all of these assignments:

"1. You must complete each assignment outside of class. Any activities in class may not be used for homework assignments.

"2. Each assignment will be graded simply upon completion. If you do the given activity, you get full credit. If you don’t do it, you get a zero.

"3. Since I will not be there when you complete the assignment, you are required to submit proof of each assignment, in the form of photographs or videos.

"4. I will drop one homework grade. That means you have the choice to not complete any one assignment. Beyond that, if you don’t complete the assignment, you get a zero. However, there will be many opportunities for extra credit, so if you feel uncomfortable doing more than one assignment, you may make up some of the points by complete additional tasks in other assignments.

"5. Most of the assignments will require someone else’s participation. You may partner with any of your classmates, but only for one assignment each. So, if you complete this first assignment with one person, you may not complete a later one with that same person. You also have the option of completing the assignments with people outside of class, but you must get their written consent. I have forms for that in my office.

"Any questions about the homework?” Nobody raised their hands. “Alright. One last thing: there will be a final project for this class, but you don’t need to worry about the details of that right now. I will explain it in the last few weeks of class.

"Alright, now on to today’s final activity. First, we need to move all the chairs to the sides, so we have ample floor space.” We moved chairs around, and soon we were all standing in the middle of the room. “Excellent. Now, everyone form a circle, with your group, with the girl on the left. Because the numbers don’t quite work out, I’ll ask that Tony and Eric sit outside the circle. In a little bit, you can switch with Alex and John.”

We took a few minutes to do this, but soon we were in a large circle. On my right was Alex, and to my left was Roberto.

“Alright, now I’ve looked for a name for what this is called, and the best I could find is a daisy chain. Everyone lie on the ground. Guys lie on your back, and girls on your knees. Your face should be between the legs of the person to your left. When you are in position, go ahead and start pleasuring your partner.”

Soon, we were all in position. I started sucking on Roberto’s cock, and was slightly surprised when I felt Alex’s mouth make contact with my cunt. We all sucked and licked each other, which caused many noises, including slurps and moans of pleasure.

After a few minutes, Ms. Sharon had Tony and Alex (and Eric and John) switch places, so Tony was now sucking on my labia, while Alex watched. He took it upon himself to jack off.

A few minutes more, and Ms. Sharon had us turn around. So now, I was sucking on Tony, and Roberto was fucking me with his tongue. She also said we were welcome to cum whenever we were ready, but we were to continue the daisy chain until she said to stop.

Latoya was on the other side of Tony, being pleasured by him. Apparently she had done a good job before we turned around, because it didn’t take long for Tony released his load. I felt a large spurt of cum shoot into the back of my throat. Since I wasn’t expecting it yet, I gagged a little, but I followed Ms. Sharon’s rule, and did not remove my mouth.

For the next few minutes the room filled with the sounds of grunts and moans, as many of the guys, and a few of the girls came. Ms. Sharon had Tony get up and switch with Alex again. While they were switching, I swallowed Tony’s load. I only had a few seconds to catch my breath, then Alex’s cock was in my mouth again.

The entire time, Roberto was slowly but surely bringing me closer to my orgasm, and it finally happened shortly after I started sucking on Alex. I moaned a little, then more, and finally I came hard, pushing my pelvis into Roberto’s face, and my mouth further onto Alex’s cock. It felt amazing! I hadn’t cum in a few days, so this was a long time coming.

I continued to moan through the whole thing, which must have felt good for Alex, because shortly after I started, he followed my lead. I felt his large load of cum fill my mouth. It was more cum than Tony had released. As soon as I felt he was done, I swallowed it all.

We had both finished cumming, but we didn’t stop pleasuring each other, or our partners. It appeared Ms. Sharon was waiting for each person to cum. A few minutes later, the last person (Barbara) had cum, and Ms. Sharon told us all we could stand up, and return to our seats.

When we were all seated, she asked, “Did everyone enjoy that?” I looked around, and saw many nods, and more smiles. “Good. Now, that’s all I had planned for today, but I need to give you your homework assignment.

"By the next class period, you must give oral sex to one person, and receive oral sex from a different person. I don’t have any preference over whether your partners are the same sex or different. Remember, you may do your assignment with your classmates, but that counts them out for future assignments. Also, don’t forget to get proof of the encounters.

"Everyone have a good day, and I’ll see you next class period.”

With that we were dismissed. We all stood, got dressed, and walked out. On the way out, I started talking with Nicole. After a bit of discussion about the class, she said she was going to a dining hall, and asked if I wanted to join her.

“Nah, I’m not really hungry,” I said, with a smile. She laughed, and we parted ways.

On my walk back to my dorm room, I thought about the day’s experience. Three guys had sucked on my cunt lips, fucked me with their tongues, and licked my clit. In exchange, I had sucked on each of their cocks, and swallowed two loads of cum. Quite an eventful morning.

I also thought about who I’d complete the assignment with. After a little thought, I pulled my phone out and texted Nicole and asked her if she wanted to get her food to go, and join me in my room. Then I texted Alex as well.

Suffice to say, the remainder of my day was fun. ;)

Vaginal Intercourse.

“Hello again, class,” Ms. Sharon said as she entered the classroom. “Long time, no see.”

We were all seated, and ready to learn. And by that, I mean we were naked, and horny. Last class, the teacher had alluded to what we’d be doing this class period. She had made a point to tell everyone that if they cared to lose their virginity outside of class, to do it before today, because it would involve intercourse.

This wasn’t a problem for me. I had lost mine to a good friend of mine in high school. I looked around and wondered if anyone else in the room was thinking about their first time too.

I pulled myself away from that line of thought, and noticed I was already starting to get a little wet, just thinking about it. But it wasn’t just the thought of my first time that had me excited. All around the room there were cushions on the floor. I could only assume what they were for, but I had a pretty good idea.

Ms. Sharon took her spot at the front of the classroom, and put her bag down, turning to the class. “Alright, class. Today, we’re in for a great time. I’ve already received everyone’s homework from last class, either via my email or my drop box, so we’ll jump straight into today’s material. I’m going to need a male and female volunteer.”

She looked around at everyone, waiting for someone to raise their hand, but nobody did. I could tell everyone was excited about what was going to happen. I could visibly see it in some of the guys’ laps. But I guess nobody wanted to be the first to go. Ms. Sharon sighed, and said, “Alright, then I’ll have to resort back to the bag of volunteers”

I had completely forgotten about the bag of volunteers. Back in the anatomy class, Ms. Sharon had created two bags with males and females, and said she’d use it if nobody volunteered for something. Those names that were removed from the bag would not be returned until everyone had been picked.

“If you all remember, the only two names we’ve removed from the bag have been Nicole and Filipe. In our toys class, all the girls got a chance to demonstrate one of the toys, including Nicole, so I won’t be removing any new names from the girls bag. From the guy’s bag, however, I’ve already taken the liberty of removing Tony’s name, since he demoed the fleshlight, and none of the other guys demoed.

"So, first a girl.” She reached her hand into one of the bags, and I felt my heart start pumping with anticipation. Would it be my name she picked? If it was, what would she ask me to do? She pulled out a piece of paper, and unfolded it. “Sofia, please come up here.”

I felt a little relieved, and a little disappointed. I looked over and saw the cute Latina girl lean her head forward in mock-defeat. Then she stood up, smiled, and walk to the front of the class. Her mid-sized tits, and beautiful ass jiggled the whole way.

Advanced Sexual Education: Part 3

Wed, 06 Nov 2024 09:31:00 -0600

Anatomy Primer.

Based on a post by smalltitslovr, in 4 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

This time, I was last to go, and the only people left in the room were Nicole, Ms. Sharon, and I. I stepped between Nicole’s legs, which were now quivering from all the pleasure. About half-way through, Nicole started having trouble keeping them open, so Ms. Sharon was now standing on the other side of the desk from me, near Nicole’s head, holding each of Nicole’s ankles spread about three feet apart.

“Hi Nicole.” I said to her, as I approached. “I’m the last one. Before I start, I was wondering how you feel.”

Nicole weakly lifted her head to look at me. She was smiling, but she also looked quite tired. “Well, My legs are a little sore from being spread for so long. Also, my cunt is a little raw from all the different fingers being rubbed in and out of it. But overall, I feel amazing. I’ve never climaxed this many times in such a short amount of time before.”

“So, I take it you’re still glad I ran into you in the library?” I asked.

“Oh, definitely!” she exclaimed. “If I get to experience all this on just the first day, I can’t wait for what’s in store for us for the rest of the semester.”

“Wow.” I said, smiling back at her. “I don’t know if I could take all the attention and stimulation you have had today. Well, I’ll hurry up and finish this, so we can leave.”

“Thank you Samantha,” she replied. “But, since you’re last, make sure it’s a good one. I don’t want to leave here on a low note. If you make it good, I promise that I’ll pay you back for it another time.”

I smiled and replied, “Deal.”

I then reached up with my left hand and grabbed Nicole’s right tit, lightly caressing it. Then I rubbed the outside of Nicole’s cunt until I found her clitoris. As I rubbed her clit and her boob, she started to moan lightly.

After about 45 seconds, I slowly inserted my index and middle fingers into Nicole’s gaping hole. Because of all the abuse her cunt had been given in the past ten minutes or so, it was quite loose, and very wet, but also quite red. I slid my fingers in and out of her hole a few times, before inserting a third finger. Then I rubbed around inside her cunt, until I found a slightly rough patch, which was also a little warmer from all the friction from the other students fingers. I rubbed it gently, which caused Nicole to moan louder, and start squirming. As I fingered her, I also rubbed her breast and lightly pinched her small nipple.

I continued rubbing and finger-fucking Nicole for about two more minutes, until Nicole started screaming “I’m cumming! I’m cumming!”, while her body writhed as much as it could with Ms. Sharon still firmly holding Nicole’s legs. I was sure that nearby classrooms would hear her screams, and the movement of the table shaking beneath her, but she apparently didn’t care, and neither did Ms. Sharon.

After Nicole’s final release of ecstasy, I removed my fingers, and Ms. Sharon released her grasp on Nicole’s ankles. Nicole lowered her legs, placing her feet on the ground, but still layed on the table, with her eyes closed.

Ms. Sharon started packing her things into her bag, as she said, “Good class today, you two. Samantha, I want to thank you for introducing our class to Nicole and planting the idea of attending. And Nicole, I really want to thank you for your participation today. I know it must have been a bit awkward for all of your classmates to not only see every intimate detail of your body, but feel those parts, and bring you to several orgasms.”

“No, Ms. Sharon. Thank you,” replied Nicole, as she stood and slowly walked over to her pile of clothes. “That was the best sexual experience I’ve had in my life so far, and I very much look forward to having even better ones in future classes. But right now, I really just want to take a nap.”

“Well, I’d offer to let you stay in here, but there’s another class coming in here soon, and I think they’re covering some very conservative topic like History of Architecture or something. I’m sure they would be quite put off by your nudity.”

“That’s alright.” replied Nicole with a smile, as she pulled on her tight yoga pants, without any panties underneath. “I don’t live far from campus. I’ll just go home and take a nap.”

“One more thing before you go, Nicole.” said Ms. Sharon as she was finishing packing her bag. “In the last class, I mentioned to everyone else that there’s an extra credit opportunity for anyone willing to participate in some sexual studies. I think you would be an excellent candidate for those studies. Please consider it.”

“I will.” said Nicole as she pulled her sports bra on. She picked up her shirt, and looked at it “You know; I really don’t feel like wearing this. I think I’ll walk home without it.”

At this point I had pulled on my clothes, so Nicole and I were dressed. The three of us departed the room together. Ms. Sharon didn’t bring any clothes, so she walked out naked, but she said her office wasn’t far, and the faculty in her department were used to it. I walked with Nicole, chatting about the experience, until we got to a place where we parted ways.

I then walked back to my dorm. When I arrived, I stripped out of my clothes, and laid down on my bed, immediately putting my hand on my cunt. I imitated what I did to Nicole earlier, and rubbed my clit. With my eyes closed, I was imagining being in Nicole’s position on the table, and I imagined that my hand was one of my other classmates. In my daydream, my eyes were closed, so I didn’t know whose hand it was.

After rubbing my clit for a while, I slid a finger inside my cunt, and found my own g-spot. I rubbed it as fast as I could. As I continued daydreaming about each of my classmates fingering my cunt, I came. But I wasn’t ready to be done, so I continued daydreaming and finger-fucking myself. I came a two more times, before finally deciding to stop. I was tired, so I fell asleep.

Masturbation, sex toys, and orgasm.

A few classes had passed since the class on the human anatomy. The next few topics were less interesting, but still very informative.

First, we paired up in the same groups as before, and studied each other’s bodies closely, one on one. While interesting, if I wrote about that, it would be somewhat repetitive, so I’ll skip it.

After that, we covered various measurement techniques, including shirt-sizes, pant-sizes, and especially bra-sizes. I found out during that class that I had been wearing the wrong bra-size for years. I thought I was a 34A or 32B, but really I’m more like a 28D. Bra sizes are confusing!

We also covered some other important, but boring topics, such as reproduction and STDs. For a homework assignment, we were all required to get an tested for a variety of STDs, as a prerequisite for the rest of the course. That was due in three class periods.

So, today’s story is about day seven of class.

I was getting more comfortable with the class, so I didn’t arrive quite as early anymore, but I always arrive a bit before class, and today was no exception. I got there about five minutes before.

Just like the past couple of classes, everyone that was already there had stripped to their birthday suits. I quickly found my seat, stripped off my clothes, put them in my bag, and sat down. I didn’t bother covering up anymore, because there was no real reason to. Everyone there had already seen it all, and nobody else was covering up. Thinking back on it, I’m actually somewhat surprised at how little time it took for each of us to get so comfortable in our nudity.

At 7:01, Ms. Sharon walked in, with the same amount of clothes as the rest of us. I kind of wondered how early she got nude. Did she strip right before walking over to the class, or was she naked all morning? I hadn’t seen her with clothes on in so long, that I could no longer picture her wearing them.

“Hello class,” she said, as she placed her bag in its usual spot on the table. “I’m glad to see you’re all comfortable being nude with your fellow classmates, because you will all be getting much more familiar with each other today. Our topic is masturbation, sex toys, and the orgasm.

"To start today’s class, we will discuss masturbation. Who here has masturbated before?” Almost everyone raised their hands. “Good. Those of you who say you haven’t, I don’t believe you. But in case you really haven’t, today will be the end of that.

"Everyone, please get in your normal masturbation positions. For those of you that say you haven’t ever done it: males generally grab their shaft and stroke it, and females either rub their clitoris or stick their fingers inside their vaginas, aka finger themselves.”

We all did as Ms. Sharon said, placing our hands on our genitals, and we started to rub and stroke ourselves. I as a little hesitant at this, but once I’d seen many of my classmates (especially the boys) start in on themselves, I relaxed. I spread my legs, leaned back, put the first two fingers of my right hand on my clit, and started rubbing it in a small circle.

“Good. I want you all to continue masturbating, but please save your orgasms until later. Now, I’m going to show you all several sex toys. For each toy, I will need one volunteer to demonstrate how it is used. In some cases, I will need two volunteers.”

Ms. Sharon then reached into her bag, and pulled the first toy out. It was a simple, flesh-colored dildo, about 5.5 inches long, and 1.5 inches wide, with balls on the end. It looked much like some of the cocks I saw the boys holding in their hands. “This is a dildo. It is designed to simulate a male penis. Dildos come in many shapes, and sizes, and have a variety of features. This one is a simple one. Generally dildos are used by females, but some males use them as well.

"Now, who would like to demonstrate how this dildo is used?” Of course, nobody raised their hands. “Come on, people. This is the most basic toy I have. It only gets more complex from here.” After another moment, Sofia raised her hand.

“Good, Sofia. Please come up here.” Sofia stood, walked to the front, and took a seat on the table. “Alright, Sofia. Have you used a dildo before?” She nodded. “Okay, then you know what to do. I’ve also brought some lubricant if anyone needs it. Everyone watch closely.”

Sofia squirted a little lube on the dildo, opened her legs, and slid the dildo inside of her cunt. As she slid it in, she closed her eyes. She slowly slid it in and out. From her facial expressions, I could tell she was enjoying the feeling, but she was a bit embarrassed by being singled out like that. A moment later, we all heard her start moaning.

After about a minute or so of Sofia fucking herself with the dildo, Ms. Sharon said, “Good, Sofia, that’s exactly right. Thank you for the demonstration. You may take your seat now.” Sofia pulled the dildo out of her cunt, and stood up. She offered it to Ms. Sharon, but she refused. “Oh, no. Please, keep it for the rest of class. That goes for everyone else who volunteers as well.”

Sofia walked back to her seat, reinserted the dildo, and continued fucking herself.

“Alright, next up, we have the vibrator,” said Ms. Sharon, as she pulled another dildo from her bag. This one was larger than the last; maybe 6 inches long and 2 inches wide. “This toy requires batteries, because when it’s switched on, it created a vibration throughout the rubber shaft, which most females enjoy. Additionally, this dildo has piece known as a rabbit ear, which rubs against a woman’s clitoris. Who would like to demonstrate the usage of this toy?”

After a couple seconds, Latoya’s hand went up. Ms. Sharon nodded, and Latoya came to the front, taking a seat on the table.

“Thank you Latoya,” said Ms. Sharon, as she passed the vibrator to Latoya. Latoya didn’t bother with the lube, since she was already quite wet on her own. She easily slid the large dildo inside her cunt. When it was all the way in, she turned a knob on it, and we all heard a buzzing sound, and saw Latoya’s head tilt back in pleasure.

“Good, Latoya,” said Ms. Sharon, “Make sure you also rub the rabbit ear against your clitoris. Yes, just like that. Doesn’t that feel good?”

Latoya nodded.

“Alright, Latoya, you may take your seat.”

Latoya took her seat, and Ms. Sharon continued, pulling the next toy out of her bag. It was about 7 inches long, with what looked like a cunt on one end. “Now, I don’t want the men in the room to feel left out, so next we have the fleshlight. This toy is designed to simulate the female vagina. Who would like to demonstrate its usage?”

Tony Baker didn’t hesitate to stick his hand in the air.

“Alright, Mr. Baker,” said Ms. Sharon. Tony walked to the front, and took the fleshlight from Ms. Sharon. He then placed it at the tip of his large cock, and slid himself inside it. He then jacked himself off with it, fucking the rubber vagina.

“Excellent, Tony,” said Ms. Sharon. “This fleshlight also has a vibration feature. Let me switch that on for you.” She reached down, grabbing the fleshlight (and thus Tony’s cock), in her hand. She slid the toy up and down a couple times, before flipping a switch on the side of it. Instantly, Tony leaned back and started writhing in pleasure. Then she flipped it off.

“Good, Tony. You may take your seat.” He did, as Ms. Sharon continued, pulling the next toy out of the bag. “This is sometimes called a magic wand. The tip of it vibrates with a much higher intensity than the dildos, and can be controlled by a switch on the handle. It is generally used by women to rub their clitoris. Who would like to volunteer to demonstrate the wand?”

Nobody raised their hand, at first, but eventually Barbara volunteered. She stood, took the usual spot on the table, and spread her legs. Ms. Sharon handed her the wand, and Barbara turned it on and started rubbing it against her cunt. Ms. Sharon gave her a few tips before sending her back to her seat.

“Next, we have our first two-person toy.” said Ms. Sharon, as she pulled two small, metal objects, about 2 inches long, out of her bag. “These are remote controlled vibrators. A girl inserts it into her vagina, and the remote controls the intensity of the vibration. It can be used by a single person, but today we will use it in pairs. I have two of them, so we need two females. Since our last toy also needs two females, I will ask for one female volunteer, and two males, please. I will be the other female.”

Most of the boy’s hands shot up, but none of the girls. Ms. Sharon picked Filipe and Ken. After another moment, I decided to volunteer. I’d rather have this toy, than be forced into whatever the next one was.

“Alright, Samantha, take a seat up here. We’ll both insert them at the same time.”

I sat on the edge of the table, and spread my legs apart. Then, Ms. Sharon and I pushed the small metal devices completely into our cunts. Then we stood up.

“How does that feel, Samantha?” asked Ms. Sharon.

“A little cold, but fine otherwise,” I replied.

“Good. Alright, Ken, you get my remote, and Filipe, you get Samantha’s.” She handed them to the students. “For the rest of today’s class, feel free to switch our toys on and off, and increase the intensity, whenever you’d like, but please refrain from making us orgasm until the end of class.”

I started walking back to my seat. Both the boys looked at their remotes. Filipe asked, “Does this knob increase the intensity?” as he turned it all the way up.

I lost my balance, and leaned on the table, as a loud moan escaped from my mouth. The vibration was very intense. “Yes, Ken,” I heard Ms. Sharon say, “that’s the intensity. You can see that at full blast, it’s hard for the receiver to do much of anything else.”

“I see,” said Ken as he turned it down to about halfway. “Sorry about the surprise, Samantha. I just wanted to test it out.”

I stood back up, and walked back to my seat, as I replied, “It’s alright.”

Ms. Sharon said, “That’s exactly how it should be used: at random times, to surprise the receiver. However, please don’t disrupt the class.” She pulled the last toy from her bag. “As I said earlier, this last toy is designed to be used by two females. Since we only have two remaining, I’ll ask that Nicole and Amy please come up here now.”

They were both a bit hesitant, but they didn’t have much choice. It had to be demonstrated, and there were only two cunts left that weren’t already full or being rubbed: Nicole’s and Amy’s. They both walked to the front, and waited for Ms. Sharon to give them instructions.

“Thank you, both,” she said, holding up the final toy, “This is a double dildo. At either end, there is a cock-shaped rubber shaft, and in the middle there is a handle. Generally, this is used by two females, but you can use it alone as well. Both of you, please lie on the table, with your heads facing away from each other.”

They did as Ms. Sharon said. The table was a bit small, so both of their heads were hanging off the ends. Once they were in position, Ms. Sharon continued.

“Good. Now, please spread your legs, and scoot a little closer to each other.” They did so. “Thank you. I’ll start with Amy, and then Nicole.”

Amy looked down and saw Ms. Sharon put some lube on the tip of one end, then put the tip of the dildo at the entrance of her cunt. Ms. Sharon slowly slid it inside of her.

“Good. Now, I’m going to need to slide it all the way in, so I can get it to the entrance of Nicole’s hole.”

I saw the dildo slide further and further into Amy’s cunt, and finally it stopped. Then Ms. Sharon put some lube on the other end, and slowly slid it into Nicole’s cunt. I heard both of them moan as it slid inside Nicole, and out of Amy.

“Good.” said Ms. Sharon, “Thank you both. Now we’re ready to demonstrate. Everyone, please stand and; Oh!.” Ms. Sharon collapsed into the chair next to the desk.

I looked over and Ken had a grin on his face. Then I felt my vibrator start up as well. It slowly increased, until I couldn’t take it. I started moaning again. The moans of Ms. Sharon and I continued, as Ken and Filipe both kept the vibrators at full intensity.

Ken then stood and walked to the front of the class, and said, “I’ll take over for a moment, Ms. Sharon, if you don’t mind.” Ms. Sharon nodded, and put her hand on her cunt and started rubbing. “Good. I’ll tu

Advanced Sexual Education: Part 2

Tue, 05 Nov 2024 09:31:31 -0600

Library Research.

Based on a post by smalltitslovr, in 4 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

I walked back to the elevator, pressed the button, and got on. This time, nobody joined me, so I was by myself. The elevator door closed, and my hand immediately went between my legs. I figured I could probably cum before the elevator reached the bottom floor.

What I didn’t count on was people waiting on the other floors. About two floors down, the door opened, with a ding. It nearly gave me a heart attack, seeing the librarian and a couple students standing there, looking at me with my hand on my cunt.

“Oh. Sorry.” said the librarian. “We’ll catch the next one.”

The door closed, and I continued. I was just starting to orgasm when the elevator opened at the bottom floor. I gasped and writhed with the fantastic sensations coursing through my body, while the security student and everyone else in the lobby watched.

After a moment, I had recovered. By then, the door had closed. I pressed the open door button, and walked out. I smiled at the security guy as I walked past, through the detectors, and out the door.

I was exhausted from my recent release, so I didn’t feel like running. I walked back to class. By now there were quite a few more people out and about, and all of them looked at me, but I didn’t really care.

As I got closer to my class, I saw a few of my naked classmates arriving at about the same time.

We walked back through the halls, and into the classroom, to be greeted by a smiling Ms. Sharon.

“Well, how’d it go?” she asked.

None of us really had anything to say about it all.

“Well, your lack of words is alright for today. I expected it. Don’t forget your homework. I’ll see you all next time.”

Once again, I quickly got dressed, and left.

Day three: human anatomy.

Day three.

I was a bit more nervous, so I arrived earlier than usual. I got there about 10 minutes before class started. Because I was so early, I was the first one to arrive.

I walked to my usual spot in the second row, and put my bag next to my chair. Before being seated, I took a big breath and readied myself for what I was about to do.

The reason I was so nervous today was Ms. Sharon’s instruction from the previous class: “be naked before class starts”. In the previous classes, we were each named off, and stripped one-by-one at the command of Ms. Sharon. When Ms. Sharon told me to strip, I didn’t have much choice. I either stripped, just like everyone else, or I would lost points for participation. Besides, I knew it was necessary for the class, and I wouldn’t learn as much if I didn’t.

But this time was it was a bit different. This time I would strip at my own leisure. I knew I could choose not to, and wait until class started, but Ms. Sharon said to be naked before class started, and I knew there had to be a reason for that.

So, I took another big breath, and whispered to myself, “here goes nothing.”

I grabbed the bottom of my purple t-shirt, and slipped it up over my head, lifting my arms high into the air. Just like the previous class, I opted for no underwear, since they’d be coming off anyhow. So, once my shirt was removed, I was standing there, alone in a classroom, topless. I felt a draft glide over my naked torso, and shivered. I dropped my shirt onto my bag before continuing.

For my bottom half today, I decided to wear a purple and black skirt made of a light material; maybe polyester. I knew it would be easier to remove a skirt than pants, and I wanted to make this as easy as possible for myself. So, I untied the side of the skirt, and slipped it down my legs, bending over.

Before I stood back up, I heard a whistle from behind, which made me jump. I snapped my hands to my chest and my crotch, and spun around to face my guest.

As I turned, I saw it was Filipe, who was zealously inspecting my entire naked body. I wondered how much he saw before announcing his presence. I couldn’t be sure, but I’d bet he saw my cunt from between my legs while I was bent over.

“Sorry Samantha,” he said, as he walked toward his usual spot on the left side of the classroom. “I couldn’t help it. You are just so sexy!”

“Uh; well; ” I stammered, trying to think of a valid response, given the situation. “Thank you, I guess.”

“You’re welcome.” he replied with a smile, as he placed his bag on the floor. “I see you’ve followed Ms. Sharon’s instructions. I suppose since you’ve set the example, I should join you.”

He then pulled one arm into his shirt, and pulled it off his body, then his other arm, revealing his dark, toned abs. Then he unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped his fly, and pulled both his jeans and his boxers off, freeing his large, limp cock. It was around 4 inches already.

“Much better,” he said, smiling at me. “Now that we’re both in our birthday suits, how about you lower your arms?”

I considered it for a moment. He was just as naked as me, so I might as well. I shrugged, then lowered my arms, showing him my the rest of my naked body.

He didn’t try and hide his gaze as he looked at my tits and my bare cunt. I saw his dick grow in size a little. I smiled at that.

We both took our seats, and a few seconds later, the next student arrived: Latoya. She walked to her seat, one row behind me. Seeing that we were both sitting there naked, she quickly removed her clothes as well. As she did, Filipe and I both watched intently.

Latoya was wearing a white tank top, and very short jean shorts. Around the edges, I could also see the straps of a black bra and the hem of black underwear She started by grabbing the bottom of her shirt with both hands and pulling her tank top off. Then she unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts, revealing her long, dark, smooth legs. Then she reached behind her back, and undid her black bra, dropping it to the floor, which revealed her A-cup breasts, and dime-sized nipples. Finally, she grabbed the sides of her black panties, and pulled them down, showing us her bush, which was neatly trimmed into a thin vertical line. Now finished, she sat down behind me, crossing her arms and legs.

“So, what do you guys think of the class so far?” I asked, glancing around at each of them.

“Well, I’m enjoying the class so far” replied Filipe. “It’s definitely been interesting so far, and I’m sure it will only get more interesting going forward. How about you?”

“Well, I certainly think it’s an interesting class. When I signed up, I was not expecting something so; risqué. But, I think it’s a very exciting class, and I’m determined to learn a lot. I’ve had a few sexual experiences, but it seems like every time I get into the bedroom with a guy, I don’t have a clue what to do.”

Latoya laughed. “Yea, I feel the same way most times. I think this class will certainly help with that.”

As we talked, more people arrived. Each of them followed our example and stripped down completely naked. Most people were a bit hesitant, but if their logic was like mine, they figured that everyone else had seen it all before, and were eventually going to see it again. Also, it sounded like we would all become much more familiar with each other’s bodies in later classes.

Just at the start of class time, Ms. Sharon arrived. She also took her own instructions to heart, as she had stripped before arriving. The only thing she wore was a bag over her shoulder and a smile on her face.

However, the more interesting part of her arrival was that she was followed by a familiar face: Nicole from the library!

Nicole was dressed in a tight, dark grey t-shirt, with a sports brand logo across her mid-sized breasts. On bottom, she wore a pair of black, spandex yoga pants that clung to her body very tightly. With the two tight items, the curves of her slim body were very much apparent. So apparent, in fact, I saw a camel toe between her legs.

Even with her very tight clothing that didn’t hide the shape of her body whatsoever, she was still a lot more clothed than the rest of us. She seemed quite out of place.

“Hello class.” said Ms. Sharon, as she placed her belongings on the desk. “I’d like to introduce a new student: Nicole Jackson. Yesterday, she witnessed a sample of your assignment, in the form of a nude Samantha in the library. After their parting, she took an interest in the class and reached out to me about joining the class. I happily added her to the roster.

"Now, since Nicole is joining us a bit late, she will not get the convenience of an easy first day. She will be required to strip completely, just like everyone else. She will also be required to do some catching up, and thus, she must perform yesterday’s activity before next class period. I have already given her a random action and location.

"Now, Nicole, I will ask that you strip, then tell us a bit about yourself, including your virginity status.”

“Wow. Okay.” replied Nicole, a bit shocked at the abruptness of the situation. She looked like she had just performed a cannonball into a lake on a January morning. “Well, I’m-” she started.

“Strip first, please.”, interrupted Ms. Sharon.

“Alright.” Nicole replied, and took a breath. “Here goes nothing.”

She placed her bag next to a nearby desk. She then grabbed the waist of her yoga pants, and slowly wiggled them down her legs, swaying her hips back and forth. Due to the tightness of the yoga pants, her panties came down as well. As she pushed them down, she bent over at the waist, allowing Ms. Sharon, who was behind her, to get an excellent view of Nicole’s womanly parts.

Once those were removed, Nicole kicked them over to her bag and started on her top half. She pulled one arm, then the other, out of the arm holes. Then she lifted the shirt over her head, and threw it over to her bag as well. Now that her shirt was gone, we could all see that she had one final tight piece of clothing remaining: a black and green sports bra. She quickly grabbed the bottom of the tight bra and pulled it over her ample breasts. She peeled it up over her head, and tossed it on top of her pile of clothes.

I was wrong earlier, when I said she had mid-sized breasts. They only appeared mid-sized, due to the restrictiveness of the sports bra. Once that was removed, it was clear that she was easily in the top 3 in the class for breast size. I’m not sure if it was because of her large breasts or not, but her nipples appeared quite small in comparison.

“Well, now that I match everyone else, I’ll introduce myself. As Ms. Sharon said, I’m Nicole. This is my third year as a student here. I’m from Florida. I was interested in this class, as it directly pertains to my major: Human Psychology. Finally, to answer Ms. Sharon’s specific question: No, I am not a virgin.”

She then took her seat, crossing her legs, but leaving her large breasts for everyone to see.

Ms. Sharon stepped back to the front. “Thank you very much Nicole. I’m glad you decided to join the class, and I’m sure you will gain a lot of useful information pertaining to your focus of study.

"Now, class, on to today’s material. First, I wanted to review yesterday’s activity, and get your feedback. So, what did you all think of it?”

After a moment’s silence, Nicole raised her hand and Ms. Sharon indicated she should talk. “Well, having not actually done the activity yet, I can’t speak to that aspect of it yet, but I think I can give a unique perspective, as I was able to view the activity from the outside. I think it was a great activity that I’m sure got everyone out of their comfort zones. It speaks to the courage of everyone here that you were able to do that. Also, to be honest, it was very sexy. I can honestly say that seeing Samantha naked in such a public place as the library turned me on quite a bit. I can’t wait to do the activity myself.”

“Thank you Nicole,” said Ms. Sharon, when Nicole was finished. “ That was indeed some useful insight. Anyone else?”

After another moment with nobody responding, Ken spoke. “Well, I can definitely say it was embarrassing. I don’t think I’ve ever been that embarrassed in my life. However, I can also say that I’ve never done something so exhilarating in my life. It felt amazing to walk around campus with everything on display. I felt like all the secrets of modern society were ripped from me, and I felt so free. Anyhow. That’s my thoughts.”

“Excellent. Thank you Ken. Since nobody else seems willing to share their thoughts, I’ll continue. And that’s fine. I know it was a very personal thing that you all experienced, and it’s perfectly acceptable that you don’t want to share that with the rest of the class. However, I hope you were all honest with your write-ups. The only two people who will read those are yourselves and me. Speaking of the write-ups, everyone please take those out. I’ll come around and collect them.”

After a minute or two, Ms. Sharon had all the papers collected into a pile, which she placed in her bag.

“Thank you everyone. Now that I’ve collected all of your first-hand accounts of your exhibitionist experiences, we will be moving on to our next topic. However, we are not done with exhibitionism in the context of this class. It will play a role in many topics we cover in the future, and it will be one of the options to be included in your final project.

"Now, as I’ve said, the goal of this class is to study human sexuality. Our first topic will build a foundation that we can build on for the rest of the semester. That topic is male and female human anatomies.

"In order to cover a real amount of detail for this topic, we will use live demonstrations. I would use myself as the female demonstration, but I wouldn’t be able to properly point out each body part. So, I will need two volunteers; one male and one female.”

Nobody raised their hands. I, for one, didn’t want to be singled out in front of the class for this demonstration. Ms. Sharon was being somewhat vague, but I guessed that whoever was being used for the demo would have their entire body closely examined by everyone in the class. I might have gained a certain level of comfort in my nudity around my fellow students, but this demo would take things to another level that I wasn’t sure I could handle. My guess is that everyone else was having similar thoughts and feelings.

“Well, if nobody will volunteer, I’ll have to pick two people at random. I figured this was going to be the case, so I’ve prepared two bags, male and female, containing each of your names. Each time we run into the case of no volunteers, I’ll pull a names out of the bag. I will leave the names out until everyone from that gender has done a demo, then I will replace them. That will ensure that everyone gets a chance to participate, and that nobody gets singled out too much. Unfortunately, since there are less girls, that does mean you will each participate more often than the boys. Sorry, but there’s not much I can do about that.

"So, I’ll give everyone one more chance to volunteer on this activity. I will tell you that this is one of the more easy activities we will do this semester, so if you want to get your demo out of the way, feel free to volunteer.”

She waited another moment for anyone to raise their hand. Nobody did. “Alright. Then we’ll leave it to chance. I’ll pick one name from each bag today.” She reached into the boy’s bag first, and pulled out a small piece of paper, and read it aloud. “Filipe.” She then reached into the girl’s bag, and pulled out a second piece of paper, “Nicole.”

Wow, I thought, that sucks for Nicole. Not only is she stripping on her first day in the class, but she’s also doing a demo.

“Okay, both of you come stand up here, please.” They stood and walked to the front of the class, then turned and faced us, standing about two feet apart from each other. They both looked very nervous about what Ms. Sharon was about to ask them to do.

“Thank you. So, first we’ll cover all of the non-sexual parts, although in some sense, you could argue that all body parts can be considered sexual, in one sense or another. Most of the body parts that we traditionally think of as non-sexual are the same between the male and female body. Actually, two thirds of the sexual parts are quite similar as well.

"So, we’ll start at the head and move down the body from there. First, we have the hair. As you all know, on average, men tend to have shorter hair than women. Of course there are exceptions. Some men like to grow their hair out, and some women prefer to cut theirs short. But the social norm is that a girl’s hair is long enough to come past her ears, and men’s tend to max out at around the top of the ear.

"Next we have the face. Men tend to have sharper features, whereas women’s faces tend to be more rounded. Another defining feature of the male face is facial hair. While women technically can grow facial hair, society has shunned it, so in most cases, it is considered a male feature. Women, on the other hand, tend to define their face via more artificial means, through make up, jewelry, and the like.

"Another important facial feature that we will touch on quite a bit in this class is the mouth. The reason that is important for this class is the fact that it’s one of only three orifices that are generally used for penetration. In the case of penetration of the mouth, it is known as oral sex. We will cover oral sex in detail, a few classes from now.

"Moving on down, we have the torso.” And so she went on, describing the similarities and differences between the male and female body, skipping over the “private” parts. As she described each part, she would point out where those parts were located on Filipe and Nicole’s bodies.

When she was finished describing the feet, and how they were a specific fetish for some people, she said, “That concludes the non-sexual parts. Now we’ll move on to the more intimate parts of the body. Now, Filipe and Nicole, I understand that this part of the demonstration will probably make you uncomfortable, and that’s understandable. However, this lesson crucial in order to eliminate any confusion that may otherwise occur in future classes.

"So, first, we have the chest. Both males and females have nipples.” She pointed to each of Filipe’s nipples, then to Nicole’s. “The very center, raised area is the actual nipple. The surrounding dark area is called the areola. The area surrounding that on females also has a name: the breast.”

She pointed to the surrounding area of Nicole’s breasts. Nicole blushed. “It also colloquially has a few other names, including: tits, boobs, and knockers.

"In most societies, the breasts are considered a ‘privat

Human Sexuality 3O1: Part 1

Mon, 04 Nov 2024 09:31:13 -0600

First day of an advanced university-level sex ed class.

Based on a post by smalltitslovr, in 4 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Hi! My name is Samantha. I’m a 25 year old college graduate. I am about 5’ 3", and I’m a very petite girl. I have black hair and blue eyes. My tits are small-ish, but they look larger because of my small figure (a 32 b chest looks more voluptuous than a 38 b does.) My ass is average. But nice and tight, because I work out quite a bit.

Today, I’d like to tell you about a class I took in second semester of my sophomore year of college: Advanced Sexual Education. Here’s the description from the course catalog: I attended a private research university, in southern California.

Human Sexuality 3O1.

“Everyone takes a sex-ed class in high school that goes over the basics. That class should have covered the basics of each gender’s biological systems, and the reproduction system as a whole. This class goes beyond that basic overview, and provides an in-depth study of the sexuality of human beings. The course will include discussions, demos, and lab projects. Students must be 18+ years of age.”

I really felt I needed to take this class. You see, at my high school, we had a one-week version of the sex-ed class, and I had been sick for the last 3 days that week. Although I had picked up many things since then, I was never quite sure what I missed, and felt that I might be missing something important. I thought this might be a good opportunity to fill in those pieces I had missed.

I’d read the description of this class many times, and wondered what exactly it would entail. “Demos and lab projects” and “18+”. Those two pieces of the description made me both scared and excited. Of course 18 years was the required age for consensual sex, in our state. Did that mean that we were going to be having sex in the class? Surely we couldn’t be required to have sex. That would be illegal. Wouldn’t it? Our university did have a few prodigy kids on campus, who were still under-age. They were banned from signing up, or even auditing the sessions. There was no online option, either.

After thinking on it for about 3 weeks straight, I decided I would sign up.

First Day.

The first day of the class finally arrived. I’d been anticipating it since the moment I’d signed up. I’d thought about backing out several times, but reconsidered each time.

I’d dressed in a tight, white t-shirt with a decal, blue jean shorts with a white belt, and flip-flops.

I arrived at my classroom at 7:55; 5 minutes early. It was a very early class. I didn’t see many people on campus on the way there. The class was in the basement of the psychology building. I’d never been down there before. I’d heard that’s where some psych studies were held, and a few classes. It was tucked away in a corner of the building where nobody would stumble into it by accident.

As I walked in, I noticed several people sitting in seats around the room. There was roughly an even mix of males to females. I found a seat in the second row, and pulled out my phone and checked social media, as I waited nervously for class to start. As I waited, I noticed most of the people in the room seemed a little nervous. Many were looking around, and a few seemed like they wanted to get up and leave.

Finally, the teacher arrived; 1 minute late.

She was somewhat tall for a woman (maybe 5'10"), in her early 30s. She had blonde hair, put up in a bun. She had black rimmed glasses. On top, she wore a white blouse, which was unbuttoned down to just above her bra, revealing a lot of cleavage as well as quite a bit of her mid-sized sized breasts. Over that, she wore a bright red cardigan. She was also wearing a black skirt that came to about mid-thigh, showing off very long, tan legs. On her feet, she wore 1-inch, red heels, matching her cardigan.

She walked to the table at the front of the classroom, and set her bag down on it. She pulled off her cardigan, draping it over the back of the chair, which revealed her slim figure. She reached into her bag, and took out some papers; presumably, her notes.

“Hello class.” she said, once she was ready. “This is Advanced Sexual Education. If you are not here for Advanced Sexual Education, please leave. You’re in the wrong place.”

I looked around. Nobody left. There were 12 guys, and 8 girls, including me. The seats were arranged in 4 rows of 5, with 10 seats wrapped around the outside of the room. Some of the chairs were empty

The teacher looked around to make sure nobody was slow to stand, then continued. “Ok. I’ll introduce myself and go over some guidelines, then take roll. My name is Sharon Gladwell. You can call me Sharon. I’ve worked here at the university for about 5 years. This is my first year teaching. Normally, I do research for the psych department. My specialty is human sexuality and arousal. I’ve lead several studies on various topics including stimulation, bondage and exhibitionism.”

Everyone in the class seemed stunned at how openly she talked about these “behind-doors” topics.

“Now, some guidelines.” She pulled some papers out of her bag, and passed them out. “Here’s the syllabus. In there, you will find details on everything I am about to say. If, at any time, any of you feel you are not suited for this class, feel free to get up and leave. No harm, no foul.

"This class is designed with two goals in mind. Firstly, to educate you all on the details of human sexuality. We will study the specific of how the human body works; specifically, the similarities and differences between males and females. We will also examine how certain stimuli cause certain reactions. We will cover intercourse in detail, both traditional and non-traditional methods. We will cover fetishes of many varieties, pornography, body modification (as it relates to sexuality), and coercion.

"The second goal is to push your boundaries. Throughout the semester, we will have numerous demonstrations, as well as solo and group projects on the topics and concepts we are covering. By the end of this class, you should all be more open sexually, and you will have experience far beyond many of your peers, measured by both depth and breadth.

"There will be times during the semester when I ask you do to do things you may not be comfortable doing. You may, of course, opt out, but it will negatively affect your participation grade, which is 50% of this course. The other 50% is broken up into 35% out-of-class projects and homework, and 15% for the final multi-format exam.

"Any questions so far?” she asked. A few hands went up. “Yes?” she said, pointing to a girl in the third row.

“You mentioned demonstrations,” replied the girl. “Are those going to involve guests? And how involved will they be?”

Sharon smiled, and replied, “No, we will normally not have guests this semester, unless we are covering a special topic. The demos will be performed by each of you, as well as by myself. They will be very in-depth, and will usually involve grouping up to get a chance to observe the topic, and get hands-on experience. Hopefully that clarifies it. If not, it should become clear in a little bit, as we’ll be doing our first demo today.”

“Oh; thanks; ” replied the girl, quite stunned, and a little confused.

“Anyone else?” asked Sharon. A boy on the left side of the room held his hand up. She nodded to him.

“So, when we group up, will we be grouping boy-boy or boy-girl?”, the boy asked.

“Good question. For the start of the semester, we will form groups that include both genders. As each of you have the most experience with your own gender, you will need to study the other gender more thoroughly.” Then she counted out how many of each there were in the room. “I was planning on pairs; however, it looks like the numbers don’t quite work out for that. If we start with coed pairs, that’ll leave four extra boys. So we’ll have two groups of 3, with an extra boy in each, and two boys with me.”

The boy grinned, “Thanks. That’s what I was hoping.”

“I’m sure it was,” replied Sharon, with a bigger grin. “Any other questions?” There weren’t any. “Alright then. We’ll move on to roll-call. Some days, including today, I’ll give you a question for the day. When I call your name, you will stand, answer the given question, and strip off your clothes. Normally, you will remove all of your clothing, but since it’s the first day, you’ll only be required to remove two articles of clothing. Shoes, socks, and jackets do not count.”

That got everyone’s attention. There was no mention before that anyone would be stripping. It was implied, due to the fact that hands-on demos would probably require nudity, but this confirmed it.

“Today’s question is an introduction,” Sharon said. “You’ll state your name, age, where you’re from, and whether or not you are a virgin. We’ll start with me. As I said before, my name is Sharon. I’m 32, and I’m from San Francisco. As I’m sure you have all guessed, I am not a virgin.”

With that said, she unbuttoned her blouse and removed it, placing it on the desk. Underneath, she had a sexy white bra, with black lace accents. Next, she unzipped the side of her skirt, and slipped it down her long legs, revealing a matching g-string.

Now that her clothing was removed, I got my first good look at her body. She was slim, in a fit kind of way; she definitely worked out regularly. Her legs seemed to be miles long. She had one noticeable tattoo: some sort of tribal pattern, wrapping around the bottom of her tits. She was very tan; she must sun bathe quite a bit.

“Now your turn. First up, Tony Baker”

A boy on the right side of the room stood up and introduced himself. “Hi I’m Tony Baker. I’m 19, and I’m from Texas. I am not a virgin.” He pulled his shirt over his head. He had a tan body, with six-pack abs. Next, he pulled off his shoes and socks, then pulled his pants off, revealing a pair of red boxer briefs, which were tented slightly. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who found Ms. Gladwell attractive.

“Nice to meet you Tony. You may take your seat. Next up, Mindy Hayes”

She proceeded to call out each student’s name. About half-way through, she called “Christina McCoy”

Christina stood, and said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do this.” She grabbed her bag and quickly walked out of the classroom.

“No worries” said Ms. Sharon. “Would anyone else like to leave?” At that, a terrified white boy also left.

She continued down the list, and nobody else left. Each student stood, said their name, age, and virginity status, and stripped off their shirts and their bottoms.

Here’s a summary:

· Mindy Hayes - 19 year old white girl from Boston. Virgin. Wearing pale blue matching bra and panties.

· Alex Myers - 18 year old white boy from Ohio. Not a virgin. Wearing black boxer shorts.

· Dave Evans - 24 year old white boy from Georgia. Virgin. Red boxer briefs.

· Darrell Wade - 23 year old white boy from Louisiana. Not a virgin. Grey boxer briefs.

· Latoya Gilbert - 21 year old black girl from Chicago. Not a virgin. Red bra and panties.

· Filipe Allen - 24 year old Portuguese boy from San Francisco. Not a virgin. Red boxers.

· Eric Ramirez - 22 year old Hispanic boy from San Diego. Virgin. Blue boxer briefs

· Ken Sharp - 21 year old white boy from Kansas. Virgin. Tighty whities

· Billy Daniels - 19 year old white boy from New York. Not a virgin. Black boxers

· Barbara Foster - 20 year old white girl from South Carolina. Not a virgin. Pink and black boy shorts, and a pink push-up bra

· Roberto Walters - 18 year old Hispanic boy from New York. Not a virgin. Black and white boxers.

· Irene Hunter - 21 year old white girl from Wisconsin. Not a virgin. Dark blue sports bra and matching panties.

· John Gibson - 19 year old white boy from Connecticut. Virgin. Black boxer briefs

· Amy Powell - 18 year old white girl from Maine. Virgin. Purple g-string and a white shelf bra

· Sofia Mendez - 18 year old Hispanic girl from Ohio. Not a Virgin. Green g-string and matching lacy bra

· Kent Doyle - 23 year old white boy from Colorado. Virgin. Bronco’s boxers (orange and blue)

· "And, last but not least, Samantha Rivera.“

I stood up. I was shaking a little. I was quite nervous. I’d been somewhat of an exhibitionist before, and I’d been naked in front of people before, but not in this kind of setting. But the biggest thing that was getting to me was the anticipation. The whole time I watched people strip, I knew my turn was coming. I was also nervous because I had slightly less clothing than all the other girls.

"I’m Samantha. I’m 19, and I’m from Colorado. I am not a virgin.” I paused. “Um. Ms. Sharon; ”

“Yes, Samantha, is there a problem?” she replied.

“Er; .well; .I’m not wearing any undergarments. I usually don’t. They make me uncomfortable.”

“Ah. An exhibitionist. I see. Well, it doesn’t make much difference. Everyone will be stripping completely, starting tomorrow. You’ll just have to do it a day early. If you’re uncomfortable with that, this class probably isn’t for you. Feel free to leave, if you’d like.”

“Um. No, I’m okay.” I had a feeling she’d say something to that effect, but part of me was hoping she’d cut me some slack. Maybe let me keep my shorts? But, at the same time, I was also hoping that she wouldn’t. :)

So, I proceeded to strip. First, I kicked off my flip-flops. Then I grabbed the bottom of my shirt, and slowly pulled it over my head. Everyone got a good look at my B-cup breasts, with my arms over my head. I dropped my shirt onto my bag, then continued. I undid my belt, then the button on my jean shorts, then the zipper. I hesitated for a moment, took a deep breath, then peeled my tight jean shorts off my naked body. As I did, I bent over, giving everyone behind me a good look at my ass and a small bit of my cunt. I picked my shorts up, and placed them on my bag. I smiled, and sat down, crossing my legs and my arms, which covered all the important bits.

“Excellent, class. Now that introductions are out of the way, we’ll move on to our first topic: the human body. Today, we’ll be going over the non-genitals. You may ask: ‘what does that have to do with Sexual Education?’

"Well, as we’ll find out several times throughout the semester, sexuality doesn’t require genitalia, or even nudity. An orgasm can be a achieved in other ways. For example, you can make someone cum just by massaging them in non-sexual places, although I doubt we’ll see that today.

"Now, let’s pair up for our first demo. First I’ll call out pairs, then we’ll see who is left.

"When I call your name, the girl should get up and move to the guy. First pair. Samantha, you’re with Tony.”

I stood up, and walked to the right side of the classroom. Everyone watched me as I went and I felt like I had 100 eyes glued to various parts of my naked body, although it was really only 34. But that’s still a lot! I took an empty seat next to Tony.

Sharon continued pairing every girl with a guy. When she was done, she said, “We have four guys left. Two will join me: John and Eric. The other two will join a pair of their choice.”

The remaining two guys stood and approached Tony and I.

Sharon laughed. “I see you are both attracted to the lovely Samantha and Tony here. Unfortunately, we won’t get to foursomes until later in the semester, so, since Alex got up quicker, he can join Samantha and Tony, and Filipe can join another group.”

Filipe looked disappointed, but he walked away and joined another pair. Alex sat down in an empty chair on the other side of me.

“Now, we’ll be covering back massages first. Each male stand behind your female, and rub her shoulders, neck, and back. Remember: no genitals today. For those groups with two guys, each can get one shoulder.”

She then sat down in a chair, and Eric and John got behind her and started massaging her shoulders.

I scooted my seat forward, while Alex and Tony stood and got behind me. They then gave me one of the best massages I’ve had in my life.

After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, but was still much too short, we switched. I first massaged Alex, and then Tony.

“Ok, class. That’s it for today.” said Sharon. “Class dismissed. Remember, be prepared to really get in deep with the material, starting tomorrow.”

Everyone returned to their original seats, and started to dress. I quickly walked back over to my bag, put on my shorts and shirt, grabbed my bag, and left.

The second day. Topic: exhibitionism.

The next day, I arrived about 5 minutes early again. I was wearing a light-green t-shirt and tight blue jeans. I walked in, took a seat in the same spot, pulled out my phone, and looked at social media.

A few minutes later, Ms. Sharon walked in.

“Hello class.” she said, after placing her bag down on the table in the front of the room.

“Today, we will be covering exhibitionism. I felt like it was an appropriate topic, given that many of you will have some strong feelings about stripping in front of your fellow students, most of which, are still strangers to you.

"But, before we start, I want to mention an opportunity for extra credit. As I said last class, I do a lot of work on sexuality research. A problem with this type of research is a lack of willing test subjects. If you’re interested, you may participate in any number of these throughout the semester, and I will bump your grade up by half a letter grade. For example a B would become a B+. In addition to the extra credit, most studies have a monetary incentive ranging from $50-$1000+ depending on the focus and intensity of the study. If you’re interested, let me know, and I’ll get you signed up for a study.

"Now, just like last class, I’ll call roll, and you will each stand, and strip completely. Every day from here on out, class will be conducted entirely without clothes, with very few exceptions. Also, I do not want to spend a ton of time on roll call every day, so, starting tomorrow, I will ask that each and every one of you is naked by the time class starts.

"Just like last class, you will also answer a question. However, today you’ll do that after stripping. The question is: how do you feel, given your indecency? Are you uncomfortable? Are you embarrassed?

My Cougar Encounter

Sun, 03 Nov 2024 08:31:15 -0600

Peter loses his virginity to a Milf on the prowl.

Based on a post by The Unicorn, Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

My name is Peter Carpenter, but my friends have always called me Pete. I was a boy at eighteen, in August of 1978; and I had graduated from high school three months earlier. My eighteenth birthday had come and gone, and I was still a virgin. My entire love life had consisted of many awkward moments and but a few goodnight kisses while being watched by my mother. I was terribly shy around girls, but I was so horny that I jacked off twice a day.

“Pete, this party is going to be great,” my good friend Bobby had told me before he picked me up from my rented mobile home, in his red 1967 Chevy Camaro convertible that morning.

“Look, Allison Miller is throwing the pool party at her mom’s house. She’s friends with Tricia, right?” Allison was younger, and us guys were not officially invited.

I shook my head in disbelief. I could see that we were probably going to get kicked out for crashing the party. Jack was sixteen, so his girlfriend and this Allison girl were probably just as young. My friend, Bobby, was seventeen, having just graduated like me. We were older. Miss Miller, Allison’s divorced mom, would probably filter out any older kids, like us.

Bobby had the top down on his Camaro and I enjoyed the breeze because, though it was around eleven in the morning, the sun was already beating down. It was hot every day in August in Longville. That’s the small town in southwest Louisiana where we lived.

It took ten minutes to get to the Miller’s house. There were a half a dozen cars parked all around.

In the living room, just inside the glass doors, stood Miss Beth Miller. She was only fourteen years older than me, having had Allison when she was a teenager herself, but she was fine. That’s what we called hot in those days, though fine is still used sometimes today. She had long wavy blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a strong but sexy face. She was deeply tanned over every inch of skin I could see but for two tan lines running up her shoulders and around the back of her neck. She wore a white dress with red dots that was held up by thin straps at her shoulders. The dress left her arms, shoulders, and upper chest bare. Her tits were full and filled out her dress, spilling over the sides just a little.

Miss Miller said, “Go on through, the party’s in the back.” She had a sexy voice.

Bobby barely acknowledged her as he passed on through the glass door. I followed him, too shy to even say anything to her. That was always the way with me in those days.

There were about a dozen teenagers around and in the pool. I knew only a few from school, the rest were probably from other schools or younger grades. All of the girls were dressed in brightly colored bikinis. All of the guys wore dark swim trunks.

Bobby took off his clothes quickly, stripping down to his trunks. I did the same, only more slowly. Most of the kids watched us come in. Though Miss Miller hadn’t filtered us out, I was still concerned about being kicked out for being too old or not invited.

Bobby jumped into the pool and started horsing around. He was quick. Nobody paid me much attention after that. I stripped down to my black and red jogging shorts, which were under my cutoff jeans and sat on a chair. The thin nylon joggers were lined, but very thin. Swimming in them was just fine, as long as there weren’t hot girls around. If swimming required interaction with girls, I was just too damn shy for that; and I couldn’t risk a hard-on in these thin joggers..

After a few minutes one of the girls got out of the pool and came up to me. I didn’t recognize her. She had blond hair that reached to her shoulders and a pretty face, despite some blemishes. She was lightly tanned except for the pale tan lines I could see peeking out at the edges of her bikini. It was a skimpy pink one.

She asked, “You’re Bobby’s friend?”

I nodded. If I was too shy to jump in the water, I was definitely too shy to talk to this girl.

“Did you graduate this year?” she asked.

I nodded again. “Yea,” I managed to say, barely.

“I’m one grade behind you. I’m going to be seventeen in a month. I can’t wait to be a senior,” she said.

Well, it was just as well that I was so shy. Though I had just recently turned eighteen, I knew enough not to mess with girls under eighteen. I just nodded. Louisiana prosecutes guys for ‘statutory rape, if an underage girl, or her parents, claim you had sex with a child.

“Well,” she said. “I’m Allison. Enjoy the party.”

She did look a little like her mother, I thought to myself as she walked away. It was best to stick with girls my own age. Of course, girls my own age scared the hell out of me.

The sun beat down like a demon that day. I started to sweat early and one of the first things I did was put on suntan lotion they offered all of us.. I rarely got out like that, so my skin was pale.

The other kids left me alone. They horsed around, splashing and swimming all over. I sat alone.

Lunch.

At about noon, Mrs. Miller emerged from the house with a tray of finger sandwiches and many big glasses of lemonade. Everyone gathered around. They all got a sandwich and a drink. I was last.

I took the last sandwich and one of the glasses of lemonade. Miss Miller said to me, “It’s ninety three degrees already.”

“Sure is hot,” I replied.

Miss Miller flipped her hair back over her shoulder. She was the sexiest woman I had ever met. Then she took a big drink of lemonade. I watched her. She was perspiring almost as much as I was. I watched a bead of sweat roll down her neck and disappear down her dress, between her big tits. I was mesmerized, wishing I were that bead of sweat. My cock started to harden in my shorts.

I quickly took a drink from my own glass when she stopped and looked at me. I didn’t think she saw me staring at her. I glanced around my glass and hoped nobody else did either.

“Well, I’m going to take a shower to cool off,” Miss Miller announced. I was the only one close enough to hear her. “Enjoy the party,” she added.

I watched her turn and walk into the house. I noticed that she had a tattoo of a butterfly on the back of her right shoulder. In those days, tattoos on women were rare and it made her look that much sexier to me. My cock hardened more as I watched.

I stood there and ate my little sandwich and drank my lemonade. I was sweating from the heat, and also from the thought of Miss Miller showering. I turned away from the pool so nobody could see my hard-on tenting the front of my shorts.

My Voyeur Mission.

Then an urge came over me. I was young and foolish in those days, like most guys. I was shy around girls, but I was very horny. I announced to nobody in particular that I had to use the bathroom, and proceeded into the house.

Trying to look casual to the kids around the pool, not that any of them paid me any mind, I opened and closed the sliding door very slowly as I entered the living room. I was trying to make as little noise as possible, without looking like that was what I was trying to do. As I got the door closed I heard the shower turn on upstairs.

I quickly but lightly padded up the stairs toward the sound. If I were caught, my plan was to tell her that I had to pee and was looking for the bathroom. It was lame plan, but it was all I could come up with.

The master bedroom door was wide open and I peeked inside. The adjoining bathroom light was on and that’s where the sound of the water running in the shower was coming from. I had to take a look. I couldn’t resist.

My heart was pounding in my chest as I snuck through the bedroom, my footfalls lost in the thick carpet. I reached the bathroom doorway and slowly peaked around the jam. I went very slowly so I could spot her before she spotted me, in case she was looking in my direction.

Then I saw her. She was standing with her back toward the door. She was beautiful. She had taken her dress off and was tossing it aside.

She had a bikini top tan line across the middle of her bare back. I could just see the edge of her right tit from under her arm. It was pale and looked so smooth. Her waist was thin and her hips wide. I could clearly see tan lines across her hips and a large triangle of pale skin covering her ass. Her ass was round and firm.

My cock grew instantly hard in my shorts.

Then, she bent forward to adjust the water and I was greeted to a sight I had never seen before. Growing up in such a repressed household I did still manage to get a copy of Playboy. I would jerk off to it every night. But in all of those pages I never really got to see what a cunt looked like. Not without it being mostly hidden behind a mound of dark hair.

Well, I saw Beth Miller’s cunt when she bent forward. I saw her asshole above and the slit of her cunt below. I didn’t really understand what I was seeing; I just knew that I really wanted to understand it. It was a pink slit with thin brown lips hanging down ever so slightly below. There was also kinky blond hair framing the whole thing.

She stood up and stepped into the shower. I pulled myself back, knowing that she would turn around and spot me if I didn’t. I heard her draw the shower curtain. I took that as my cue to leave. I was confounded by what I had just seen, but I yearned to see more.

I made my way back out to the pool, my cock deflating just as I got there. Nobody noticed me as I walked back to my chair next to my pile of clothing. I sat down and took a deep breath.

My heart was pounding after what I had just seen. It had been a big risk to sneak that peek but it had yielded great reward. I was so curious. Most of my friends already knew all this but with my upbringing I was way behind in my sexual education.

Half an hour later Bobby found me. I was sitting alone in a chaise lounge watching everyone splash around. He was soaked.

“Hey, buddy. We’re all going to head over to Jimmy’s house,” he said.

“Who’s Jimmy?” I asked.

“He’s Michelle’s older brother, you don’t know him,” he told me.

Well, I didn’t know Michelle either.

“Anyway, he’s supposed to have beer and no parental supervision,” he said with a smile.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“It’ll be fun,” he urged.

“No,” I said. “Look, this isn’t my sort of thing. Can you just drop me off at my house?”

“What? You live in the wrong direction,” he complained.

“I’ll take him home,” Beth Miller said.

Bobby and the others start to leave.

She was standing behind my chaise. I had no idea how long she had been there. I had been looking out for her and I never saw her exit the house. She couldn’t have heard Bobby tell me about the beer, I figured, because she would have had something to say about that.

“Great,” Bobby said. “See you later.”

I turned around and looked at Beth Miller. She was wearing her white and red polka dot dress again. My heart skipped a beat as she looked down into my eyes. “Thanks,” I managed to say.

She smiled at me. She had a pretty smile. “Not a problem, I need to drive to Moss Bluff in a little while,” she told me.

That was south toward my trailer, which was really closer to Ragley than Longville. I couldn’t believe my luck. I wanted to spend time with Beth Miller. She was so sexy I could barely stand it.

All of the kids left. Beth Miller told Allison to be careful and have a good time. Nobody mentioned the beer. I was sure Beth Miller would have put a stop to it if she had known. I wasn’t going to mention it.

Beth Miller disappeared in the house without a word. I didn’t even see her go as I had glanced away. I waited for a few minutes, the back yard empty but for me. I didn’t know if she wanted me to follow her inside, or what.

Then she re-appeared.

Beth Miller had changed into a bikini. She was a knockout. The bikini was all white strings but for four little triangles. Each triangle was dark yellow, decorated with white dots. Two of the triangles half-covered her tits, one covered her cunt, and the last one covered some of her ass.

I pulled my knees up as my cock tented my shorts once again.

Beth Miller was deeply tanned all over, except for the pale skin peeking out from behind her bikini. She walked up to me. Up close her tits looked huge and were totally natural. I hoped that my shorts were black enough, and my knees were up far enough, for her not to notice my hard cock. She casually told me, “I’m so hot. I’m going to take a dip before we go, if that’s okay.”

I swallowed hard and nodded.

She walked the three steps to the pool. I watched her ass sway as she approached the edge. Then she dove into the water.

I stared intently. She surfaced on the far side of the pool, her blond hair plastered to the back of her head. She swam to the far edge and held on for a second. Then she kicked off from the edge toward my side. She had perfect form.

Reaching the edge of the pool in front of me she climbed out, the water cascading down the curves of her sexy body. She walked back to me as I tried to avert my eyes. She pulled the chair to my left closer to my chaise and sat down. She was right there in arms reach. I could barely breathe.

“Umm,” she moaned and tossed her wet hair behind her. “That feels so much better.”

“Cool?” I asked. It was all I could say.

“Well, I’m still hot, but it’s better. Aren’t you the Carpenter’s kid?” she asked me.

I nodded.

“Wow,” she said, shaking her head. “So, were they really strict on you?”

I nodded again and said, “I have my own place now.”

“Oh? So, you’re on your own, eh?”

I nodded. My cock was so hard that I could hardly think. She was beautiful.

“Did they let you date?” she asked.

I nodded. “Chaperoned,” I clarified.

“You ever sneak out with a girl?” she asked with a smirk.

I shook my head. “No chance for that.”

She cocked her head to the side and looked at me. Then she asked, “So, have you ever kissed a girl?”

I nodded. “Goodnight kisses.”

She smiled and then she looked around. “Now, where did I put that towel?” she asked. I hadn’t seen any towel. She reached to her right and found nothing. Then she reached to her left, across my body. She tapped my thighs with her forearm.

My legs dropped and my hard cock became evident as it tented by shorts obscenely. Beth Miller gasped. “Oh my,” she said.

I dropped my hands to my crotch to try to cover my cock. I pulled my knees up again. “Sorry,” I said.

“Did I cause that?” she asked, surprised.

I nodded my head.

She smiled and said, “I didn’t think you’d be interested in an old woman like me.” She was thirty-two.

I barely managed to say, “You’re really pretty.”

“Really?” she asked.

I nodded. That was all I could do.

“Well,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to turn you on so much with this bikini and all. Hmm,” she thought for a moment, then added; “I guess the least I could do is relieve your issue, don’t you think? I caused it after all.”

I was stunned. I froze, except for my cock, which throbbed even harder.

Beth Miller then reached for my shorts and without a moment’s hesitation she pulled them up my bent legs. My cock was free. She instantly reached down and wrapped her fingers around the shaft.

“Oh, God,” I sighed. The situation had turned around in the last five seconds, much for the better. Beth Miller wasn’t giving me a chance to be scared and pull away. She had taken control.

“Have you ever had a girl touch your cock before?” she asked as she gently stroked my dick. She had a very light touch.

I shook my head. Now I was figuring out why I hadn’t been kicked out of Allison’s party. Once Mrs. Miller figured out I was of legal age, she figured out a way to get some one-on-one time with me.

She gripped my cock harder and began stroking me. I dropped my legs, my shorts still at mid-thigh. I watched as her fist bunched the skin at the bottom and then stretched the skin at the top. She knew what she was doing.

My head swam with pleasure. It was a strange sensation to have someone else touching my cock. I loved it.

“So, have you ever French-kissed a girl?” she asked casually.

I shook my head. The pleasure from her hand was greater than anything I could do myself. I couldn’t speak.

Beth Miller leaned forward. She had lots of freckles. I found that sexy. She kissed me. Then she lifted her head and looked at me, still stroking my cock. She said, “Open your mouth and let my tongue in.”

Then she kissed me again and this time I let her do what she wanted to. She pressed her tongue into my mouth. It was so strange to me, that first time. I was transported to a different world; a world consisting completely of our mouths, her hand, and my cock.

After a moment, I began stroking her tongue with mine. Then she slowly pulled her tongue back. I chased it. Then I was inside her mouth. A light had come on and I realized what this was all about. I pressed my tongue deep into her mouth, stroking her tongue and her teeth. I could feel her hand stroking my cock faster and faster.

Beth Miller pulled up and broke the kiss. She looked down at me and smiled. “You’re a fast learner,” she said.

I smiled at that. I was very motivated to learn as much as I could.

She stroked my cock steadily with her fist. She glanced at her hand and then looked into my eyes. She asked, “So, does this feel good enough?”

I nodded. It felt like heaven.

“Well, this might feel better,” she said. And with that, she did the most amazing thing to me. She dropped her head to my lap and kissed and licked the head of my cock.

I felt her tongue flit against underside of my cock. Every lick sent a jolt of pleasure directly into my brain. Then I felt her hot wet mouth envelop the head of my cock and begin to push down. She was sucking my dick up into her mouth. “Whoa,” I gasped.

My cock was of average size and Beth Miller was able to press her face lower and lower until almost my entire cock was in her mouth. She gripped me tightly between her lips. Then she began slowly stroking her lips up and down my cock. Her hands roamed across my chest and down my legs.

“Oh my god, that feels so good Mrs. Miller,” I moaned, overcome with such gratitude I was finally able to speak. I was swept away by the pleasure of her mouth. I didn’t care about anything else in the world except that feeling.

She

Marooned, With Daisy

Sat, 02 Nov 2024 08:31:32 -0600

Young Daisy is stranded on an island with five men.

Based on a post by Elsie Thompson. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

The Cessna 1 80 came down hard, somewhere on the Polynesian waters; the waves causing it to buck and pitch. The landing might have been successful had not a pontoon brushed against an unseen outcrop of coral just below the water’s surface. The airplane lurched onto its side, perching on the coral and rocking unsteadily.

“We have to get out of here now,” shouted the pilot, whose name was Gaston, as he attempted to open the door. One of the passengers helped him. The pilot climbed out of the leaning aircraft and reached down into the cockpit and helped Daisy first and then each of the four male passengers climb out.

“Jump into the water,” he said. “The plane is going to tip.” Daisy and the men jumped clear of the aircraft into the deep water surrounding the coral head. The pilot was the last to jump and when he did, the airplane tumbled over, ending upside down in the water and slowly sinking until only one wingtip was exposed.

“Can everyone swim?” asked Gaston of his five passengers floating in the water. After a chorus of affirmatives, he turned around to survey the nearby island. “The beach is 200 meters away. Can you make it? Kick off your shoes. And maybe your clothes.”

The six people began to swim, shedding water-logged clothing and shoes as the difficulty of making progress in the heavy swells became apparent. Daisy was a strong swimmer. She suppressed a feeling of panic but remained close to the group to ensure that nobody needed help. When she made it to the beach all the men were there, lying exhausted on the sand. She made a point of walking out of the water onto the sand, but she was breathing hard.

One of the men sat up, looked at Gaston and said sarcastically, “Nice job, We get a bonus today. A visit to an island not on our itinerary.” He extended his hand to Daisy who was standing beside him. “Hi. I’m Ben.”

She took his hand. “I’m Daisy.” She was suddenly conscious that she was wearing only a stretch bra and panties and they were wet and transparent, leaving little to the imagination.

“I’m thirsty,” said another man, getting to his feet. He looked at Daisy and they shook hands. “I’m Sam. Do you suppose there’s any water on this island?”

“That could be a problem,” she answered. She turned to Gaston who was sitting on the sand. “How long are we going to be here?”

“I don’t know. We’re not on the usual flight paths.” He spoke English with a French accent.

“They’ll look for us when we don’t arrive. Won’t they?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Sam interjected incredulously. “Surely they will. You filed a flight plan? Didn’t you?”

“No.”

“You didn’t? You fucking idiot. Nobody knows about this flight?”

“Nobody.”

“Why? Are you a drug smuggler earning a little extra money taking on passengers?”

“I didn’t file a flight plan. Leave it at that.”

A balding Douglas got up from the sand, and stood nose to nose with the pilot. “Do you mean that nobody knows where we are? We could be here for months!” He extended a hand to Daisy. “I’m Douglas. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Even in these circumstances.” He smiled. Daisy took his hand. He sounded like he was English.

The fourth of the passengers stood up and shook hands with Daisy. He was youthful, handsome, long-haired and about nineteen years old, her age, and his name was Kevin. He spoke with an American accent. “Ben, Sam, Douglas, Kevin, and the pilot, Gaston.” She reviewed the names in her head.

All four male passengers and Daisy were now standing in a circle, the men shouting at the pilot, Gaston, who responded with a Gallic shrug.

Ben sat down on the sand. “We need to find some water.” He was handsome and in his mid-thirties.

“Let’s move into the shade and see if we can figure this out,” said Douglas, the eldest of the group. He had the air, even clothed only in underpants, of prosperity and leadership. A grove of coconut palms was only a few yards away and the group moved into their shade. Gnats swarmed around their heads.

“Water is the first problem.”

“There’s lots of coconuts. How much water is in a coconut?” asked Sam.

“A cup or two,” said Daisy. “If the coconut is green.”

“How do you know that?” Douglas asked Daisy.

“I was born in Tahiti. I’m half-Polynesian. But I’ve lived in the United States since I was 10 years old.” The men all appraised her. She was of average stature with long, thick black hair that spilled down over her shoulders reaching almost to her bra. The dark of her nipples and pubic hair showed through her bra and panties. Her breasts were small. Her skin was a light brown color and uniform from head to toe. She had a few freckles on her nose, her teeth were sparkling white, and her face had a permanent smile framed by thick lips. She was a pretty girl with a touch of the exotic.

“It’s going to take a lot of fucking coconuts to keep us alive,” said Sam. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance there are people on this island.”

“There used to be. Pearl fishermen may come here occasionally,” said Gaston.

“Bugger,” said Sam. He sounded like an Australian and had the solid thick build of a rugby player. He had a big smile and an ugly face.

“Let’s focus on the priorities,” said Douglas. He was standing. The others were sitting on the sand or on the trunk of a fallen coconut tree. “Does anybody have any idea about how to find fresh water?”

Gaston spoke up. “There’s fresh water a few feet below the surface as you move away from the beach. The islanders dig shallow wells. Maybe we can find an old one.” Gaston had the seedy, debauched look of a long-time islander, probably one who had fled France to avoid some unpleasantness, probably one who drank more than he should have. Unlike the others he had kept his flowered shirt on while swimming to the beach.

“Why don’t you and I go look for one? How big is this island? Do you know?”

“Maybe five kilometers long and half a kilometer wide. I fly this way occasionally.”

“Can we salvage anything from the plane?” asked Ben.

“Maybe, but the water’s too rough to swim out there now. Any divers here?” Douglas asked.

“I’ve done a little,” said Sam. “Tough job getting to the plane.”

“Maybe when it quiets down you can find a coconut log and float out there and see if you can salvage something.” He turned to Daisy. “I saw that you’re a strong swimmer. Maybe you can help?”

Sam responded. “Fuck yeah, Daisy. Maybe we can find Gaston’s dope. Get high. And then die. No water. No food.”

Daisy looked apprehensively at Sam. His cock was sticking out of the fly of his boxer shorts. She turned away from the sight. “I’ll be glad to help,” she said. He looked down and shoved his cock back under cover.

Two hours later, Daisy was gathering coconuts and Ben, who was British, and Kevin, the American, were cracking them open and drinking coconut milk when Douglas and Gaston returned. “Gaston found an old well,” Douglas announced. “The water is brackish, but drinkable. We also found plantains and taro and a plantation of breadfruit trees, so we won’t starve either.” They all clapped enthusiastically. “But,” he added, “We need to find a way to cook. Who knows how to make fire?”

After a long pause, Kevin raised his hand. “I was a boy scout. I know the theory, although I’ve never made a fire. But I’ll try.”

“We need to catch fish also. How are we going to do that?”

That was Ben asking. Daisy looked at him. “Ben, your leg is bleeding. What happened?”

Ben looked down at his calf. “I scraped it on the coral when we getting out of the plane. It’s a minor wound.”

“There’s no such thing as a minor coral wound. They get infected and take forever to heal. We need to treat it.”

“You know this?”

“Yes, I’m a nurse. Well, almost a nurse. I learned about coral cuts from my mother. Her name was Taina. Gardenia flower.”

“We have no medicine.”

“Let’s wash it out with sea water. And then we’ll bandage it to protect the wound from gnats and flies and sand.”

“What do we use for a bandage?” Ben asked.

She looked around. “We could tear up Gaston’s shirt.”

Douglas interjected, “No, let’s save the shirt. It’s our best piece of cloth. Use somebody’s underwear.” He looked around. “All right, mine.” He stripped off his boxer shorts and tossed them to Daisy. “I think we’re going to get used to seeing each other naked. Might as well start now.”

“Well, mate,” said Sam. “I’ll join you and preserve my underwear for better uses than covering up my tally whacker.” With that he pulled off his boxer shorts and hung them on a nearby bush.

“Let’s all go commando. Except for you, Daisy,” said Kevin.

Daisy shrugged. “I’m not special. There’s latex in my bra. It might be useful for something.” She unhooked the catch, pulled the straps over her shoulders, and put it on the bush along with the men’s underwear. Then, she pulled off her panties and added them to the bush. The men all watched her. “Now, Ben, let’s tend to that leg,” As she and Ben walked to the edge of the lagoon, she added, “Fucking gnats,” swishing them away from her naked body with her hand.

Sunken Treasure.

The next morning the sea was calm. Sam and Daisy, the best swimmers, planned to go to the submerged airplane and salvage what they could. The found a coconut log on the shore, put it in the water, and pushing it in front of them swam to where the airplane was stuck on the coral rock. Looking back Daisy thought to herself, “We’re a long way from land.”

Sam kept up a steady stream of good-natured profanities as they hung onto the log. “Fucking log, fucking ocean!”

When they reached the coral rock they pulled the log onto it. They walked gingerly on the rock which was sharp and hurt their bare feet. At high tide the rock was under water. Sam was staring down through the water at the airplane, clearly visible in the clear water, his bare, white bottom shining in the sunshine. “Well, the door is only five feet under water. I’ll go down first and see what I can find.”

Daisy looked at the submerged airplane. It was caught on the coral rock. Below and beyond were the deep blue depths of the Pacific Ocean. She shivered and felt a tingle of fear run up her spine.

Sam jumped into the water, pointed his head downward, and paddled to the closed door of the Cessna. He tugged on the door and managed to open it. He let loose of the door and it closed. His breath exhausted, he came back to the surface. “I’m going to open the door and go inside the cockpit. I need you to come down in one minute to open the door because I’m not sure I can open it from inside. Understand?”

“I understand.”

Sam took a deep breath and dove into the water. He pulled the door of the plane open and glided inside the cockpit. The door slammed shut behind him. Daisy counted to sixty and then slipped into the deep water, breast-stroking downward to the handle of the door and pulling it open. Sam came out of the cabin in a rush and rose to the surface, his two hands full.

She followed him to the surface. He climbed up on the coral rock and gave her a hand to climb on after him. “Look what I found,” he said excitedly, trying to catch his breath. “Tools.” He unrolled a cloth pouch and within was a collection of wrenches and screwdrivers. And a knife!

“And look at this.” He held up a small backpack. “A parachute under the pilot’s seat. That fucking Gaston had a parachute for himself. And none for his passengers. It will be useful as rope and cloth. We can make you some knickers.”

Daisy laughed. “There are better uses for the cloth than knickers.” Despite herself she glanced downward at Sam’s pubic area. He had a large, long cock and pendulous testicles. He wasn’t circumcised.

“You couldn’t resist a look, could you?”

She was embarrassed and giggled. “My turn,” she said. “Same routine. Come down and open the door for me in a minute.” She jumped into the water and paddled downward, pulled the door open with some effort, and glided inside the cabin. It was claustrophobic. She fought back fear as she poked her hands around the seats in the cabin.

The airplane shuddered and tilted more onto its side. “Oh, no,” she thought. “I have to get out of here.”

Through the window in the clear water she could see the depths below. Before she could get to the door, there was another shudder, and she felt the airplane break loose from the rock and float downward, falling, deeper. She tried to open the door to the cabin but the weight of the water held it tightly shut. She was running out of breath. The airplane was falling through the darkening water, the pressure on her ears and her nose was intense, and suddenly, the cabin door was open and there was Sam holding the door open for her, and she stroked out of the airplane, her lungs bursting, and propelled herself upward, side by side with Sam, and they hit the surface together, he holding her tight as she convulsed and tried to gulp air into her tortured lungs.

Sam took her hand and pulled her toward the coral rock and when she reached it she sat down on the sharp rock and leaned over to cough up water as Sam held her suspended over the abyss where the airplane had been. Slowly, her rasping breath returned to normal.

“Thanks,” she said. “I thought I was dead.”

“I thought you were going to be dead. We were lucky.” He turned to face her and looked her over. “Hey, you’re bleeding.” He was looking down between her legs where blood droplets were mixed in with the water.

She laughed. “It’s my period, silly boy.”

“Yuck,” he said. He held out his hand. “Mates?” They bumped fists. “Well, our expedition wasn’t a total failure. We have a parachute, a knife, a pair of pliers, and a few wrenches and screwdrivers. We’re not going back empty handed.”

They eased into the deeper water, each at one end of their log, and pushed and pulled their way back to the beach where the other four men were sitting, watching, in the shade of the coconut palms.

Weeks Later.

Three weeks later and the five men and Daisy were still on the island. Not an airplane, nor a ship nor a sail, not a single sign did they see that they were not the last six people on the earth. They had enough food to eat and water to drink but desperation was just below the surface and its companion, rage, was breaking out.

None of them wore any clothes. The underclothing each of them possessed was tied up in a bundle, sheltered from the rain and protected from insects, saved for their day of rescue, should it come, when they could put on their garments and greet their rescuers in less than complete nudity.

Each had settled into a role. Douglas was the self-appointed leader. He spoke a cultured English; he was 53 years old, with a ring of gray hair around a bald head and the gaunt, knotty body of a dedicated runner. He chaired occasional group meetings, standing while the others sat in the shade of coconut palms. He turned round and round to address each of them during those meetings and Sam had christened him the “swinging cock.” Douglas was the shelter boss, as he called himself. He built a small hut under which all six crowded into at night to sleep.

Ben, 40 years old was tall, slender, and soft-spoken. He had recovered from his coral wound and he and Douglas were the gatherers of food and cooks for the group. They walked several hundred yards to the center of the island every day and gathered plantains, dug taro roots, and knocked breadfruit out of trees. Ben was the cook. Lacking any utensils, roasting on the fire was the only cooking method. Charred breadfruit, plantains and taro roasted in pandanas leaves, and coconut meat and milk were on the daily menu.

Kevin, the handsome 22-year old American, was called “coco” because one of his jobs was to shinny up a coconut palm every day and throw down a dozen coconuts for coconut water and food. Kevin was also the fire boss. It had taken him three days, but he had finally created fire by rubbing two sticks together. Kevin was responsible for ensuring that the cooking fire never went out and he had built a large pyre on the beach, ready to light to attract the attention of a passing airplane or ship.

Sam, 35 years old and divorced, and Daisy, 19 years old, were the fishermen and the foragers; but Gaston said that many large carnivorous fish living in the coral reefs were poisonous and only small fish and crustaceans were safe to eat. Sam devised fishing gear but his daily take was only a few small fish. Sometimes, diving among the coral reefs, they caught a rock lobster. They scoured the island for land crabs, often with claws six inches long and delicious when roasted over the fire. In their travels they also gathered palm hearts from young, sprouting coconuts.

Gaston, the pilot, was the water boss. In addition to collecting brackish water in the old well he had found, he devised ways of collecting water from dew and passing rain showers. With the water he collected, plus coconut milk, they had enough to drink.

Gaston had far more knowledge of life on a coral atoll than did any of the others, but he continued to draw wrath, blamed for the crash that had left them marooned on the island. He stayed to himself most of the time although Daisy tried to make him feel welcome in the group. Gaston was about 45 years old, a world-worn man with a paunch and the broken blood vessels on his cheeks of an alcoholic.

With each passing day the tensions within the group built up. Douglas attempted to soothe nerves, but managed only to inflame the others; and some of that emotion was transferred to Daisy as she and Sam were perceived as allies. Ben was quietly depressed; Kevin was almost a child, going from wild elation to dark despair in a moment. Gaston, the pilot, was silent and sullen. He rarely spoke except to Daisy, and then in the French she barely remembered from her childhood.

The sexual tensions didn’t help matters. All the men looked longingly at Daisy’s naked body. Her close proximity to the men often resulted in an erection. Kevin, the youngest of them, turned red; Douglas turned away

Bedroom Antics In The Gilded Manor.

Fri, 01 Nov 2024 08:31:42 -0600

A Victorian Cautionary Tale concerning two young people.

Based on the post of snoopercharmbrights. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

Chapter the First.

In which businesses prosper, families meet and a marriage is arranged, but no improprieties occur.

It was a large house, set in a small park, but it could never look like a house of the gentility. It shouted aloud to anyone of sensibility, in this year of our Lord eighteen-fifty, that this was the home of a tradesman. A very rich tradesman, it must be admitted, but not a gentleman, be he titled or not.

In the dining room sat two couples eating dinner. The master of the house, James Robinson was a mill owner, and a very successful one, His guest, John Smith was rather younger, but had lately made a good deal of money in the new-fangled railways. Their wives were in deferential attendance, and the food was served by a butler and footman, aided by two maids, so that the four diners were served each course simultaneously, emphasizing the grandeur of the Robinson household.

The children of the marriages, two sons and a daughter for the Robinsons, and a son for the Smiths, though adults themselves had not been allowed into this feast for there was serious business afoot. None of this was discussed over the dinner table, of course. The men discussed general political matters, and the ladies discussed household problems. After dinner the men withdrew to the smoking room with their port and cigars.

“You must be wondering why I asked you here tonight,” said the host, “well I’ll tell you. I want to place all my transportation business with your railway. Not just the carriage of goods which currently go both on your railway and the North Western, but all that travels by canal navigation also.”

John Smith was astounded. This was a magnificent opportunity, and he quickly started to wonder what the catch was, price, no doubt.

James Robinson continued, “I’ll need a fair price, of course, but we need not argue about that now. I’m sure it will work itself out as time goes on. The question is, do you want it?”

John had not become rich by being rash, but this offer was too good to miss, so he replied at once, “In principle, yes. The devil will be in the details, but if it’s what we both desire, then I am sure the details can be worked out.”

“Good,” replied his host, “I’m glad that is agreed.”

The two men drank and smoked peacefully for a few moments as each thought of the mutual advantage of the deal they had just agreed.

Then James spoke again, “How is that son of yours?”

“Arthur? He’s very well indeed and taking his place in the business very successfully.”

“So I hear.”

John thought it suitable for him to return the felicity, “And your children?”

“Three children can be a much greater worry than one, to be honest. The eldest son is a chip off the old block, I am pleased to say, but the younger one is still rather wild, but he will grow out of it. It is the daughter, Angelica, who worries me.”

The light dawned in John’s mind. This whole deal was because James was looking for a suitable husband for his daughter, and the choice had fallen on his son. That was the reason for the excellent deal being offered, and the reason that rates were not paramount was that after the marriage the deal would be one ‘in the family’.

“I have been worried about my son’s future also,” he said, thus sealing the deal.

The men finished their cigars and rejoined the ladies to inform them of the forthcoming marriage between two people who had met only once. The fact that nobody had so much as suggested the possibility to the man and woman concerned did not worry anyone. This was business, and the young couple would have plenty of time to get to know each other after the wedding.

It was decided, by the parents, that Arthur and Angelica would be married on the first of May, 1851, on the same day as the opening of the Great Exhibition in the Crystal Palace.

Chapter the Second.

In which one party is prepared for marriage by a father’s help, and some improprieties occur whose recounting is unsuitable for innocent ears.

Arthur was summoned a few days later to his father’s study. This was unusual , in that he usually discussed business with his father at work, and family matters were discussed over the dinner table. The study was really a place of retreat for his father which neither he, nor his mother, usually entered.

“Tell me, my son, honestly,” his father inquired in a rather overbearing fashion, “Which of the maids have you tumbled?”

Arthur was shocked, and looked his father directly in the eyes. “None, sir.”

His father grunted, though the son could not tell whether in approval or anger, or even disappointment. Then the old man asked, “Mill girls?”

Again Arthur denied any such activities.

Finally John asked his son, “Village girls?”

Again came the denial, which his father did not doubt.

“So,” he asked in a more kindly voice, “You are still a virgin?”

The boy’s gaze dropped as he nodded.

“Well, with this marriage impending we need to do something about that. We can’t have you arriving at the marriage bed without knowing what to do. We will go into Manchester tomorrow.”

A Nice Neighborhood.

Arthur had very mixed feelings about the visit as they travelled, by train of course, to Manchester. On the one hand he wanted to experience sex for the first time, while on the other he was afraid that his ignorance would cause the woman to laugh at him.

The hansom cab took them into a surprisingly smart area of the town and into the drive to a medium sized detached house such as a successful shop keeper or tradesman might own. Inside it was furnished somewhat extravagantly, and they were shown into a large room with several sofa on which lolled four women in various states of undress. Arthur’s penis sprang to attention when he saw shapely legs bare almost up to the knee.

John spoke quietly to an older woman, who nodded her agreement and called one of the scantily dressed women over to her. The three conversed for a few moments, and then younger resident walked over and took Arthur’s hand to lead him gently from the room without a word.

They went up the stairs in silence and through a door into a sparsely furnished bedroom. The woman turned and spoke to Arthur for the first time. “Don’t be afraid, lad. I’ll not eat that.” Then she giggled at some joke Arthur did not understand.

To Arthur’s amazement she threw off what little clothing she wore. For the first time in his life he saw a woman naked, but she seemed not in the least perturbed by his presence.

“Come on,” she said, “Strip off. I 'ain’t got all day.”

He undressed, hurried along by the prostitute.

She pulled and pushed him until he was on his back on the bed, fingered him into an erection, mounted him, fucked him fast and had him back downstairs in what seemed to him like a very few minutes.

Arthur then had to sit and wait for another half an hour until his father joined him. On the way home nothing was said of the visit nor of its purpose.

Chapter the Third.

In which sadly inadequate advice is given, and a marriage is solemnized, and once more no improprieties are described.

“Angelica, my dear, come with me,” said Anne, sweeping out of the drawing room and up the main stairs to her own small sitting room.

“Yes, mamma,” sighed the girl, expecting yet more admonitions about her deportment during the wedding on the morrow.

In the sitting room Anne looked very serious as she addressed her daughter. “Tomorrow …” she started and then her voice trailed off.

“Mamma,” responded the bride-to-be, “I assure you my deportment in the church will be a model of serene calm.”

“It wasn’t in church that I wanted to talk about,” said her mother.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I want to talk about after the wedding … when you and your husband are alone.”

“I expect life will be much the same in our new house as it will here,” said the girl complacently, “After all I will have my own maid, Martha, with me.”

Her mother looked very troubled, but all she could say was, “When you are alone with your new husband …”

“Yes, mamma?” asked Angelica, totally unaware of the topic her mother was too shy to raise.

The older woman took a deep breath, then whispered very quietly, “He may want to … He will want to … You must always let him do as he pleases.”

Then she rose and left the room almost at a run, leaving Angelica puzzled. The girl could not see why a wife would ever interfere with any of her husband’s business concerns, and she could not think that he would interest himself in matters of housekeeping.

The Groom.

In the church everything was perfect. The groom was resplendent in a long frock-coat and the bride was in the newest of fashions, white as Her Majesty Queen Victoria had introduced for fashionable weddings, almost weighed down with petticoats upon petticoats under the dress, and a long shawl and bonnet covering her elaborately coiffured hair.

The bishop performed the ceremony with style, as was only right when two such wealthy families were being joined, and there were a host of guests, many of whom the bride did not know, as this was a business meeting, first and foremost, the final sealing of an important deal.

The meal after the wedding was eaten in decorous solemnity, and after the men had withdrawn to their cigars and talk, the women crowded round to congratulate Angelica and Anne on such an auspicious wedding. One or two of the wives of less important guests made blushing comments that Angelica did not understand, but she ignored them.

Eventually the menfolk returned to join the ladies and the happy couple left for their new home, and their new life.

Chapter the Fourth.

In which the wedding night occurs in a most lamentable fashion.

As she was helping Angelica prepare for bed on her wedding night Martha expressed some doubts about the wisdom of Angelica’s choice of attire.

“But this is my best new nightdress,” exclaimed the bride, “It is perfect.”

Martha demurred, “It has a high neck and buttons at the back. You are wearing three petticoats under it. Do you really think that is what your new husband expects, or will want?”

“He will expect and want me to look my best, of course.”

“But what about …”

“Martha, be quiet. On my wedding night I will wear what my mother had made for my best nightgown, and that is an end of it.”

Martha’s Attic.

Later, after Martha had withdrawn to her own attic room and Angelica had retired to bed, Arthur knocked at the door and came into the room. Angelica was a little surprised when he got into bed beside her; she had not expected that. Then she was even more surprised when he began to fumble with the front of her nightgown in a most curious fashion.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Trying to find the buttons,” he replied.

“Why do you want to find those?”

Arthur did not reply, but continued to handle the front of her nightgown in what Angelica considered a most rude manner.

Finally she got angry with him and snapped, “Oh, stop. This nightgown buttons at the back.”

Arthur’s hands then went lower and started to move the material over her thighs upwards, but after some minutes he was almost inextricably tied up in the plethora of layers covering her modesty.

After some minutes, he asked in exasperation, “Why are you wearing all these clothes on your wedding night?”

Angelica immediately burst into tears and sobbed, “This is my best nightgown and I wanted to look my best for my wedding night. All you can do is be rude and nasty.”

“Who told you to wear it?”

More sobs, and a whispered, “My mother. She said it was only right to wear my best for you tonight.”

Totally exasperated and frustrated, but very uncertain how to proceed, Arthur decided to give up for the moment, and to talk seriously to his wife on the morrow, so he rose and returned to his own bedroom. Her reluctance to be naked, or nearly so, confused him. The woman in Manchester had stripped off quickly and willingly to allow him complete freedom to look, touch and play. Now his wife wouldn’t let him even touch her outside her very elaborate night clothes.

Chapter the Fifth.

In which the lack of consummation is discovered, a bride seeks further advice, and help is offered.

Martha was surprised that her mistress was alone at seven o'clock on the morning after her wedding day, but Arthur was indisputably risen from his bed, dressed, and breaking his fast in the morning room. When Martha helped Angelica from her night clothes and into day wear there was no trace of blood in the bed or the night clothes, nor any other evidence of sexual congress having taken place.

“And how are you this morning, ma'am?” she asked.

Angelica looked round and then replied, “Oh yes, ma'am, that’s me now isn’t it?”

“Well it should be, but I wonder. How was last night? Did your husband visit?”

“Yes, he came in for a few minutes, and even got into bed with me,” said the bride, “But he was so rude and kept trying to touch me in … naughty places, so I stopped him, of course.”

Martha was finally convinced that Mrs. Robinson had utterly failed to prepare her daughter for a normal wedding night. Heaving a sigh she set about correcting this error.

“Did the master not undress you and climb on you then?” she asked.

“Certainly not!” replied the indignant Angelica.

“Then how do you think that babies are made?”

“Babies? Made? Babies are not made; they are tiny people. When two people are married then children just … arrive, I suppose.”

“Miss Angelica, there are some things I need to tell you. Have you ever seen a man naked? One of your brothers perhaps?”

Angelica blushed, and whispered, “I saw John, my brother once, with a maidservant kneeling before him when he had no clothes on.”

“Did you see his pego?”

“What? I don’t understand.”

Martha sighed again. “In a man’s breeches he has a rod about six inches long and an inch across. To make a baby he puts it into a woman’s belly and bounces up and down. Then she may have a baby nine months later. If a man has not done that to a woman she cannot have a baby.”

“Don’t be silly, Martha. How would he put such a thing in a woman? There’s nowhere to put it.”

Martha lifted her skirt and pointed out the aperture designed for a husband’s use.

“The man’s rod is made of flesh and is soft except in bed when it hardens. The first time you have it, it hurts, but after that it is nice.”

Angelica looked worried. “Is all this true?” she asked sternly.

“Yes Miss Angelica, and you won’t be ma'am until the master has done this to you. That’s what he wanted last night. He will undress you, stroke your bubbies and all the rest of your body, then he will put it into you. Only after that will you be truly his wife,” the maid informed her, continuing, “Don’t worry Miss Angelica, Martha will help you.”

“Oh Martha, will you help?” begged Angelica, “I do so want to be a good wife.”

“You just stay here, and I’ll bring you some breakfast up and we can have a talk.”

Chapter the Sixth.

In which some help is forthcoming and two parties are satisfied, while the third is still left intact.

After ordering Angelica’s breakfast from cook, the maid went into the drawing room to her master.

“Could I have a word, please sir?” she asked as deferentially as she could manage.

“Oh, well, what is it?” Arthur snapped.

“It’s really about Mrs. Robinson, sir, your mother-in-law.”

“What about her?”

“I’m afraid to say, sir, that she ain’t done her duty as a mother should sir. She never explained nothing to the mistress, sir, about marriage and the like.”

Martha stood facing her employer with a little trepidation, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Then she remembered the pleasures she had had in the stables, and how frightened Angelica was, and determined to press on with her plan.

“I know that last night the mistress wasn’t a proper wife for you, sir, but it weren’t her fault. I could explain everything to her, about husbands and wives and … babies, if you want. Then I’m sure she will want to be a good obedient wife, sir. Begging your pardon sir.”

Arthur looked again at this plain woman who seemed to have a permanent look of disapproval on her face, and asked, “I thought you were unmarried?”

Martha paled a little at this line of question, but resolved to press on out of loyalty to her mistress.

“I am unmarried, sir. But that don’t mean I ain’t been taught about things. My mam told me all about it before I went into service at the big house.”

She paused, summoning up all her courage.

“And it was there I was showed all the things she had teached me.”

Arthur considered this. Certainly, he knew, servants, especially young girls, were sometimes 'taken advantage of’ by employers, and Angelica had several older brothers who might have done so in respect of this maidservant.

He asserted his authority over this new member of his brand new household by ordering, “Tell me plainly, girl, what you know.”

“I knows that a man uses his pego,” she blushed at using the word to the master, “into a girl and it gives him pleasure. If it be God’s will then she has a baby nine months later, but God don’t will it very often, or there would be hundreds of babies born every day.”

Arthur felt his own member rising as this woman said things no woman should ever say, except to her own daughter. “No wonder,” he thought, “Mrs. Robinson could not demean herself to say them to her daughter.”

His thinking was overtaken at this point by his penis and he heard himself ask, “And where does a man put it?”

Martha was also not immune to the effect of this conversation, and she surprised both of them by throwing up her skirts at the front, pointing to her luxurious bush and saying, “In there sir.” Then she dropped her skirts and hid her face in her hands.

Arthur was by now at full erection, and just grunted his acknowledgement of the accuracy of this inform

My First Time

The True Story of Snow White: Part 3

Two men’s wickedness.

The True Story of Snow White: Part 2

More Tutoring for Snow White.

The True Story of Snow White: Part 1

It's time for Snow to marry.

Snow White Seduced by the Genie.

A Bath with My Oldest Friend

Cat and Henry share a relaxing intimate bath.

River Fantasy

Village reunion turns steamy, fueled by erotic river sighting.

Annie Rejects Her Shame

Annie finally rejects her abstinent life and finds how much joy a cock can bring her.

Virgin Business Major Makes Her First Million

The Art of the Deal finds some innovative applications.

The Librarian: Part 4

Tough Guy.

The Librarian: Part 3

Explorations Commence.

The Librarian: Part 2

About Last Night

The Librarian: Part 1

Brandon has been harboring a secret librarian fantasy

Abandon Ship: Part 2

Jemima provides Davy with kinky new insights into female sexuality.

Virgo Constellation Shift: part 3

Virgo invites classmate over, to pursue a more honorable deflowering.

One Silent Night: Part 3

A Christmas Miracle brings them together.

One Silent Night: Part 2

A Christmas Miracle brings them together.

One Silent Night: Part 1

A Christmas Miracle brings them together.

The Waitress

Carter’s 3-Year Dilemma

On the street

Desiree’s Senior Year: Part 2

Desiree at the River.

Desiree’s Senior Year: Part 1

Finally connecting with a high-school friend.

A Good Girl Discovers Sensuality.

PreMed Sex Tutoring

PreMed Sex Tutoring

Be Fruitful and Multiply: Part 2

After a world-wide disaster, new rules take effect.

Chapter 4: Ah!

Be Fruitful and Multiply: Part 1

After a world-wide disaster, new rules take effect.

Chapter 1: Orientation.

Chapter 2: Getting started.

Fortune Cookies and Damn Luck: Part 3

I wanted to give her what she was begging for.

Fortune Cookies and Damn Luck: Part 2

My admission of my inexperience.

Fortune Cookies and Damn Luck: Part 1

An accidental date and two fortune cookies lead to romance.

Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, 2010

Thundersnow and Deflowering.

Young Female Minister Finds a mate in an unorthodox (sinful) moment.

Out of the Fridge and into Hell’s Freezer.

Cursed by Snow, Blessed by Thunder.

Resurrection of the Frozen Dead.

Mystery of a Curious Erotic Fascination.

Good Christian Girls Don’t, But.

Charmed and Smitten by The Serpent.

Snow Flowers: Part 3

The reward for rescue..

Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, 2010

Snow Flowers: Part 2

Lily’s wolf fantasy gets erotic.

Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, 2010

Snow Flowers: Part 1

Girlfriends lost in the snow are taken in and warmed up.

Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, 2010

Camping In Ireland: Part 2

A tale of firsts, set on a rainy camping trip, among young friends.

Intimacy in the open air.

Nigel and Sonia, Homeward Bound.

Camping In Ireland: Part 1