Steamy Stories

Laying Pipe: Part 1

Thu, 24 Nov 2022 15:24:18 -0600

Laying Pipe: Part 1 -

A teasing MILF taunts the neighbor too long, so her daughter services the need.

By BitterJohnZim. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

My name is Johnny. I’m a retired pipelayer and 8 years divorced. My neighbors, Tom and Beth, had lived on the other side of the garden wall with their three children for 22 years. With their youngest, Lacey, off to college, they’d invested their time in renovations that had recently escalated to a full reconstruction of their sprawling Victorian estate.

According to Tom, half the plumbing leaked and the other half was led, so it all had to go. Being a good neighbor, and valuing the occasional invite to their holiday parties, I graciously offered access to my house while they waited on the plumbing work, specifically leaving the patio doors of a guest room unlocked for their free use. The direct access exterior door of the guest bedroom allowed them to use the private bathroom and the big walk-in shower.

While Tom was clockwork with a morning constitutional and an evening shower, a timing I enjoyed, frequently haranguing him into joining me for morning coffee, Beth tended towards crossing the yard at much more unpredictable times, and often very late at night. It was the second time she stopped me in the hall, naked but for a very thin, green and gold, silk bathrobe, silhouetted in the dark passage by the guest room’s lamps, and asked for some odd linen or toiletry- that I suspected there might be more. The third time, nearly midnight, with hair wet and skin goosing, the magnificent swell of her breasts capped with nipples straining spectacularly beneath that silk, she found me at my kitchen table and asked,

“John, do you have any more soap?”

After a consciously indecent pause, I cleared my throat and stood, gesturing back down the hall behind her to the guest room. “Sure.” In the spare bathroom, I opened a drawer with a collection of wrapped soap bars, Castille to a red box of Lava. She plucked a bar of inoffensive herbal soap and flashed me a bright, green-eyed smile,

“Thanks.”

In an instant, she peeled the bars wrapper and took off the green gold robe; revealing her pendulous breasts, a shaved bald vulva, and she was stepping into the shower, damp brunette hair dark against whole-body, tanned skin. She half turned as she stepped behind the glass wall of the shower, smiled brightly again to me, the half twist showing off a toned core over her motherly hips to good effect, and then dismissed me,

“That’s all.”

I allowed myself another indecent pause, watching the mature naked full-figured woman slip back beneath the hot rain of the shower, before retreating to my bedroom to text every hookup and notably horny ex I could find in my contacts.

Having been repeatedly and deliberately teased by a righteous MILF, and then striking out brutally and in a thirty mile radius, I was baffled the next morning when Tom, his hair still wet and coffee mug in hand, standing in my kitchen roughly where his wife had mere hours ago, was begging a bit of patience from me for their renovations. Beth had insisted on replacing every fixture with period items or exacting replicas- which were, now, only cast in a small foundry in Italy, and took weeks to deliver- normally, but this was the covid era of 2020, and the world was insane. He laughed, saying he’d start chipping in for coffee.

The specter of Beth haunting my guest room for months more twisted something insatiable in me. Both of them were 51, Tom was a great looking guy and his wife was a bombshell. As raucous and horny as their holiday parties tended to be, I was, now, stuck, hoping, my neighbors were swingers, because someone was getting fucked if they kept showing up naked in my house.

Naturally, I promised Tom it was no problem, and they were welcome as long as they could stand the hike for a bathroom.

I was on my back patio drinking a stiffly spiked cup of black coffee late that afternoon, enjoying the last of the sunlight, barefoot on the warm deck. After the explicit midnight flirtation and explicit blue balling by my short black book (…lots of theoretical promises next week), I was planning the evening’s Beth hunt. What was her angle? Was she just in it for the tease, or was she soliciting more? I wanted her, but I suspected this was a game more about her control of our interactions than the signaling of inviting some sexuality, given how she had chosen to engage me and flatly turned me away.

Tom wandered over, announced they were stopping work for the day, and headed into my house for a quick shower. The sin-pushing bastard I am, I stuffed a Nicaraguan cigar in his mouth and poured him some scotch when he emerged and sat with me in the back yard. Tom was a class act, and I knew- I realized- I wasn’t going to go further with Beth unless it was confirmed their marriage was open.

There was a flash someone approaching around the fence to Tom’s and I excused myself inside to pour another cup of coffee and bourbon. I exited back to the patio to find Tom bickering with his daughter Lacey.

“Johnny shared some of his stash with me, I think you said something similar about your friend Able last year? Right before graduation? When I found you melting into the couch?”

“Dad, tobacco is awful, they’re not the same thing, at all.”

I started to quip,

“Well, tobacco’s addictive, but the direct psychoactives are-”

Lacey leaned towards me,

“I smell whiskey.”

I couldn’t help but laugh and take a molten pull from my coffee mug,

“Why do you know what whiskey smells like?”

Instantly, Lacey popped upright and turned white.

Tom hooted as loudly as I’ve ever heard him, dropping the stub of the cigar and toeing it out on the deck.

“Get cleaned up, Lacey, we’ll go get dinner.”

He knocked back the last sip of scotch and vanished into the hedge between our houses.

There was a beat with just the crickets of the early spring night, Lacey was a long legged, flat girl, red halter top and jean cutoffs over a straight line. She had her mother’s green eyes and her father’s fairness and blonde hair, held up in a loose ponytail. I sipped my cocktail, the heat rousing me from my inspection,

“Thought you were off to school?”

She shrugged, “Quarantine, we’re all distance learning. And spring break.”

“U of O, yeah?”

Smiling, she pumped an arm, “Go Ducks!”

I laughed momentarily and when we’d both fallen silent again said,

“How you holding up? Things have been kinda crazy.”

“I’m fine. I barely saw people anyways. Computer science isn’t great for your social life, but I like it that way. But dad and mom are taking things pretty hard.”

I shifted in my seat,

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Dad’s practically retired, mom’s working from home, and their house is the paint on the exterior walls and the shingles on the roof- their friends are all self-isolating and they can’t find half the people they need to finish what they started last year.”

I realized she was speckled with plaster and paint.

I took a quick pull of my coffee and deposited the steaming brew on the patio table. Standing, my hand gently on her shoulder, I guided her to the guest room door,

“Inside, ensuite is to the right, shout if you need anything, I might be in the kitchen.”

Barely a step into the kitchen, the ribeye in my fridge occupying my mind, I heard a shout,

“John! John, come back, please!.”

Unnerved by the young woman’s urgent voice, I rounded back into the open patio door. Straight ahead was a nicely dressed bedroom, headboard to the left wall and an only slightly ancient TV on the wall beyond the foot of the bed, and in the twilight of the spring evening was Lacey’s naked form, half silhouetted by the bathroom’s lights.

I jerked to a stop and back stepped to the end of the bed, my body facing that of my neighbors’ naked daughter. She took a step forward, I held my hands up warding her off and she slipped between, suddenly the naked teenager was pressing herself to me, blonde locks and blonde bush tight against my body.

I closed my broad grasp around her- her skin was hot, my hands felt coarse on her fair hips.

“What’re you doing, Lacey?”

She twined her hands into my hair, pulling but I resisted- she giggled,

“I thought of something I need. It’s been a dry spell.”

I didn’t need much encouragement after the way her mother was teasing me, so I let her draw my face down almost in reach of her pink lips, faintly protesting,

“I’m practically your dad’s age.”

She stopped, her green eyes widened and flashed in the low light, a mocking grin on her lips,

“You’ll need to do a whole lot more if you want me to call you daddy.”

I was done. I scooped her up, a rough palm on either of her perky little ass cheeks, and hungrily kissed the young woman. I ground the blonde bush against the straining bulge in my jeans and she moaned into my lips, her hands gripping tightly to my head and neck.

I sat back onto the bed, her knees finding purchase, she was squatting pink pussy haloed in golden hair, hovering over my groin. She unbuttoned my fly, nimble fingers fishing for my hardness, finding it beneath my boxer-briefs, she huffed a laugh and squeezed at my shaft and balls. I cupped her face in my hands, and pulled her close as she played with my cock, kissing her again. Her tongue danced in my mouth, we’d skipped the playful make out and gone straight to mutual, horny straining. She tasted like mint and aspartame- I knew I was bitter and harsh from the crude cocktail.

She squeezed my balls through the cotton of my underwear, not painfully but definitely purposefully, “Get these off.” I smiled widely and easily flipped the little woman to one side. She giggled, svelte body glowing in the evenings shadows, illuminated by the light spilling from the bathroom. One handed, I reached over my head and hauled off my t-shirt, with a pull at the center of my back. I was broad and hairy, a long career in steel carving a muscularity that was functional if not perfectly aesthetic, I know I loomed in the darkening room, shucking my jeans and drawers, fat, hard cock bobbing as I stood away from my clothes.

I reached slowly for the young woman’s long legs, she laughed and kicked away, twisting and diving across the comforter. “John, John, what big eyes you have.”

I climbed onto the bed, only a queen-size, and closed in on the wiggling body, “Fairytales- I thought you were a woman who knew what she wanted.”

I thought for a moment that I had pushed too hard, her face fell, but sitting back against the headboard she slid her slender legs wide, her hands slid harshly from her a-cup breasts to her hips, and her left crossed through her blonde fur and split the lips of her pussy. The light falling from behind me, across the bed, sparkled in the milky pearls of her arousal as she momentarily pumped a finger into herself. “I want you to want me.” she said, voice thick.

I snapped a hard hand around her left knee and pulled her into the shadow of my body, I kissed her throat, and she sighed, I licked the hard nubs of her nipples and she moaned, I sank between her legs, and she curled her fingers at the nape of my neck. She was hot with the musk of youth. A day of dirty work clung to her and drove me mad. Her arousal filled the room and every corner of my mind. I fingered apart the pretty pink lips of her pussy and pressed my tongue into pearl of her clit. I lapped momentarily at her roiling organ and kissed the delicate pale skin of her most inner thighs. Then I slipped lower and licked at the bubblegum twist of her ass.

“Hey, what are you-,” her legs clamped on my ears and she bucked away. I dragged her back, harsh hands on her hips, thrashing tongue against her knot, she slowly relaxed and I shifted my hands to her pussy, coarse fingertips manipulating her clit through the thin membranes of her hood. I could see her abs flexing and straining, her breath was hot and vocal huffing, she crossed her legs behind my head and she moaned shrilley. I restrained the woman and manipulated her button, toothlessly gnawing at her holes. “Oh, shit-” she thrashed again,

“Oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, yes!”

My tongue deep in her, I felt the pulsing of her abdomen, and kept driving.

“Stop, stop, I, I need a second, it hurts.” she gasped. I shifted on the bed and pulled her winded face to my hideously ignored cock. “Oh, I-” I pressed my cock into her mouth, she slapped her hands against my abs and I briefly withdrew from her as she was gasping. “Hey, slow down.”

I curled down over her, kissing her more gently. When our lips broke I said, “Not sure I can: I want you.” My left hand knotted around her ponytail and I pulled the petite blonde’s face back to my fat cock, her eyes were closed, but she took my rod into her mouth. I released her hair, and she rocked slowly, pink lips bobbing on my glans.

I ran my fingers through her golden locks as she gently pumped over my cock. I found the simple black elastic tie holding her ponytail and slowly pulled it from her hair. A wild mane unfurled, and I couldn’t help but twist my fingers through it.

Lacey was gritty, her hair was full of the plaster and paint she had struggled with during the day. At the apex of her slow bobs I commented, “Yeah, you need that shower.” I combed my fingers through her hair. The skinny coed twisted away, unceremoniously spitting out my cock.

“Hey” she whined, smiling, “just shut up and fuck me.”

She spread her naked body across the bed, glistening pussy exposed to the open patio door and illuminated in the light of the bathroom.

I stepped off the side of the bed and drew her hips to mine, hard cock furrowing her bush,

“Put it in.”

I demanded, slowly thrusting over her. She reached between us, and as I drew back, pointed it high. I pressed ferociously across her clit. On the next slow thrust, she half found herself, and I had to bear down. Her beautiful blonde bush gave way as the pink lips of her vulva parted. I sank slowly to my root, groaning as I was sheathed in Lacey’s petite body. She arched as I pierced her. I leaned close and nibbled gently at her left nipple. I ground myself slowly inside her heat and she gasped with each slow twist.

I had a hot body wrapped around my cock, and I couldn’t hold back. I planted one rough hand around her neck and the other hand clasped her perfectly pale waist. I could feel her stretch and exhale sharply with every thrust. She stared, catatonically, from half-open eyes, as she convulsed and I thrust, riding her gasping moans and pressing her little body deeper and deeper into the bed’s crown of pillows.

Finally, she went rigid, and kicked me back, petting her clit as her orgasm gripped her

“Jesus, fuck, fuck, fuck-”

She roiled a moment, spared my intrusion. Slowly, she stilled, chest heaving. Rolling onto all fours, she pulled a pillow from the head of the bed and thrust her hips at me. Her skinny ass was transformed into perfect, thirsty curves, thrusting up at me, and she groaned,

“Just… just keep fucking me, daddy.”

I pulled her to the edge of the bed, again, the cool breeze of the patio at my back, and the light of the bathroom to my right spectacularly illuminating the pink gape of her hungry hole. I bullied my horn back into her wild blonde depths, hands bruising tight on her pale hips, she grunted,

“Oh, god, fuck me.”

My thumbs found the dimples of her back, I was so close, I couldn’t help but pound her. My balls brushed across the curls of her feet and slapped against her thighs as she collapsed beneath my thrusts. She was nearly in a tortured balasana, hands outstretched and clenching.

A moment’s clarity, I moaned back, “Are you safe?”

“Fucking cum in me.”

she swore into the bedspread.

“In you? You want it in you?”

I growled, thrashing into her narrow hips.

“Cum in me, cum in me, cum in me, daddy,”

she moaned like a mantra- and I did, I pinned her as deep as I could, Lacey’s face pressed into the bedding, her petite hips split by my fat cock, I groaned and bucked a few last times as I filled her.

I didn’t pull away immediately. We were both breathing hard in the twilight, her slight form flawless and gasping. Finally, I stepped back, my cock popping free and a fat bead of cum roiled from her used guts. I snatched my shirt from the floor and caught the swell of cum before it soiled the bedspread. “Lacey, hold on a second,” She laughed, each quiver driving another white bead from her tightness.

That’s where we were when Beth entered through the tortured patio door, Lacey face down weeping a steady stream of my cum, and me gently mopping it with my wadded shirt, cock stuck at half mast from the sight of the tight blonde teenager overflowing with seed.

“Lacey!”

Beth cried, green and gold bathrobe in one hand. The younger woman popped upright, her hair the twisted ringlets of the freshly fucked, and wide eyed looked at her mother. Scrambling off the bed, her bush was matted messily with the proof of our act, and a streak of cum dripped down her thigh and the curve of her calf.

“Guess I’ll take that shower!”

She dashed into the bathroom, slammed the door, & locked it; leaving me naked, in the dark, with her mother.

To be continued..

By Bitterjohnzim for Literotica

The Virgin Couple: Consumations

Thu, 24 Nov 2022 12:12:39 -0600

The Virgin Couple: Consumations -

A chaste couple’s epiphany of pleasures. (part 2)

From the Awakening, By Estcher Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Into the Depths

He smiled at me and then sat up and knelt before my spread legs. His skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat, just like me. I looked down at his hardness, pointing at my pussy. He held his cock in the middle and pushed it toward my opening.

“I love you, Emma,” he whispered, tearing his eyes from my vagina to look at me. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world. Thank you for marrying me. Thank you for trusting in me. I will never do anything to hurt you. I will protect you all my life. Give you everything you desire. Just say the word and it’s yours.”

“I want your beautiful hard cock inside me, Daniel. Make love to me, husband!”

We looked, watching, feeling, sighing, as he pressed his large cock to my small pussy opening. He pushed and his large head spread my lips apart, soaked his head in my juices, and his head slipped a little further down, rubbing me in a delightful way, before my vaginal opening trapped his cockhead in place.

We looked at each other and grinned and looked back down. He pushed and his cock head entered me. The pressure was more than I had imagined. His hardness bore into me, pushing past my lips and into my tight tunnel. I gasped at the enormity of it. I watched his large head disappear somehow inside me. I could feel him spreading me open. His cock. My cock. The only cock that would ever be inside me.

He held himself there and panted. We stared at one another in surprise.

“Daniel, it feels so good! You’re huge, baby! Push inside! You won’t hurt me! Push it inside!”

We watched as he pushed another inch into me. I moaned at the pressure and pleasure. I felt something small tear and realised what little remained of my hymen was gone forever and sighed contentedly. The pain was nothing compared to the pressure. I squirmed a little, adjusting myself, and Daniel pushed a little deeper.

Our eyes were riveted to the scene. Watching our love join in the most amazing union possible. Only two inches were inside me. He pulled back a little and we watched as his cock pulled the lips of my pussy out with him. It looked obscene and glorious.

“Daniel, look at you! Filling me and stretching me! Does it feel good?”

He grunted and pushed those two marvelous inches back inside me. My wetness lubricated him, and I felt his shaft sliding delightfully inside me. I was so stretched, my clit was touched so very lightly and it sent a ripple of pure pleasure through me. There was no way sex felt this pleasurable, I thought. My head fell back, and I moaned, the sound escaping me of its own volition.

He pulled back and then slid the same two inches back inside me. My head snapped up to watch. His glorious black cock was inside me and I needed, and wanted, to feel him deeper.

“Deeper, baby! Deeper!”

He pushed an extra inch into me as I watched. Three inches of his male cock was inside me. A fucking hard male cock. My male cock. I felt something inside me stir. A crazy deep desire I had kept pent up inside. Caged like some demented demon. The cage was opening. Daniel was the key.

He pulled back and I groaned at the pleasure. His cock rubbed me inside. Touched me in a place I didn’t know existed or could give me such pleasure.

He pushed back in, and I gasped when four inches filled me. My vaginal walls hugged him, squeezed him, claimed him. I could feel his massive head encroaching my depths, claiming me. My pussy was his and he was taking it. He pulled back and we watched his cock, slick with my wetness, slide out until just his head remained inside me. I could see his glans and wanted it back inside.

He pushed back inside but this time my hips rose to meet him. I pushed hard against him and felt his cock drive deep inside me. I don’t know how much it was, but he was stopped hard by my cervix. His cock rammed up against it.

My cage door was flung open. All my desires flew free like from Pandora’s box. I could be as carnal as I wanted with my husband. I could give in to all my secret desires. This was my husband, my lover, my man, my cock. I looked down and saw two inches remained outside my vagina. I wanted it all inside me and knew he simply wouldn’t all fit.

Daniel grunted hard and pulled back his cock. We watched. My labia clung to him, stretching out and wrapped around him. His cock gleamed with white wetness. My white wetness. It looked delicious to me. I needed to taste my pussy on his cock. I smiled. I would. Later.

He drove his cock back into me and we both moaned loudly. He pulled back and pushed back inside. My legs lifted and wrapped around his lower back. He moved up and over me and thrust. And thrust. My world reduced to the sensation of being so fully penetrated. Stretched and probed. His so very hard cock driving relentlessly into my depths, filling me, pleasuring me in ways I didn’t know were possible. His cock head was the best part. It was large and drove inside me, spreading me for his long shaft. I clenched my pussy instinctually and felt the pleasure heightened beyond what I thought my brain could handle.

The cage inside my mind exploded. I thrust my hips up to meet his and felt his cock pound my pussy without end. It was a blur of penetration and withdrawal. Over and over. Each little motion sending ripples of such pure joy I could only thank God for this gift.

I awoke.

Not literally.

Something inside me awoke. A hunger. A need. I was free to be whomever I wanted or needed to be for my husband. Words, foreign to me, stirred in my mind. I had to voice them. They needed to escape. A vibrating intense pleasure was rising inside me. I could feel and see the same thing happening to Daniel.

Words poured from my mouth. Vulgar words that only gave us both more pleasure.

“FUCK ME, DANIEL! FUCK MY CUNT! FUCK ME!”

The words left my mouth and seemed to echo in the suite. Daniel kissed me then. He pressed his entire weight down on me and pressed me into the mattress and duvet. He thrust harder. His rhythm was off but that did something to increase my pleasure. I felt his cock grow thicker. His thrusts shortened and then, recognising my husband was about to cum inside me for the very first time, I came.

We came together. His cock erupted inside me. The feeling was indescribable. He made me a complete woman in that moment. The pleasure I had been feeling expanded and flew out of me. I came. My first true orgasm. God’s gift to me for showing him the pleasure a husband and wife can experience together.

And more words flowed from me. Vile nasty words that I felt only brought me closer to the God who allowed all this to be. With my husband there were no lines in the sand. We could cross as many as we wanted. We were with God, and he blessed our union.

Later, my mother would confess she had had the same epiphany as me on her wedding night. She had cemented her husband to her. He would only have eyes for her after that.

My husband’s cock lurched and spasmed deep inside. His hot fluids splashed inside me and added to the pleasure. Each jerk of his cock sent my pleasure rocketing higher. My nails dug into his ass cheeks and pulled him harder against me. The last two inches somehow disappeared inside me and did something to me that took my orgasm to the next level.

“I fucking love you, you fucking black beast! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck your fucking wife! Fill me! Oh my God! The pleasure! Daniel! DANIEL! I LOVE YOU! Keep fucking me! Don’t you fucking stop! Fuck me with that beautiful hard cock! Give me babies! Oh my God!”

We crashed from that high. Daniel lay limp on top of me. His gorgeous body pressed against me and kept me in place. I wanted to be held down and filled. His shoulders shook and I scrambled for his head and held it. Like me, tears leaked from his eyes.

“I love you, Emma. I love you so much!”

I kissed his tears and face. I found his mouth and sucked his tongue into mine. He moaned and his cock, still hard inside me, lurched.

Fun Cleanup

I looked into his eyes. “I need to clean you up.”

“What?”

“I need to clean your cock.”

“Why? It’s not dirty, Emma. It’s just a little sticky.”

“Yes, exactly. I need to clean all that off you.”

“Um, okay? We only just started. I’ll go get a washcloth if that’s what you need right now.”

I growled and pushed him over and followed him somehow keeping his cock inside me. “No baby. With my mouth.”

His eyes widened. “You mean…”

I slid down him, groaning with him as his cock slipped out of me. His cock slipped along my stomach, leaving a trail of our combined juices. I could smell us now. A rich musky flavor coupled with something sharp. A smell I knew was his ejaculate and my pussy wetness.

I slid down his body and leaned back. I admired his long, hard cock, gleaming black, covered with our cum.

“Daniel, you have a beautiful cock, baby.”

“Thanks, love. But look at you! You are every man’s wet dream. My Italian Goddess. Your olive skin, your gorgeous black hair, your eyes! You are the most beautiful woman in the world, Emma.”

“And I’m your wife. And you are my husband.”

I took his cock in my hand and felt just how slick it was with my wetness.

“Always,” he said and moaned as my thumb stroked just under the head of his cock. I squeezed gently and watched a bead of cum appear.

“My mother told me what I needed to do with my husband. I understood her words. But now? Daniel, I understand her words. She never said just how much I would enjoy this. Daniel?”

“Yes, love?”

“In the bedroom? You and me? I am your woman to do anything you want with. Anytime. Anywhere. Anything.”

“Emma?”

“Shush. We are one now. There’s no shame. No sin. Just our pleasure. Let me pleasure you. And you will pleasure me. Okay?”

“Okay, Emma. This is wild. Crazy, even!”

“This is where love leads, Daniel. I’m only just realizing it. I love you, so much.”

Daniel went to respond but I took half his cock into my mouth. My tongue swirled around his cock and lapped up our juices. I was prepared to hate it. Expected to hate it. Instead, it tasted divine to me. It was our love on my tongue. Daniel moaned and thrust into my mouth.

I suctioned my mouth and popped it off him. “Daniel! We taste amazing!”

He stared at me. My lips and mouth covered in our mess from our love making. “Kiss me,” he whispered.

My eyes went round, and, in a flash, I had my lips on his. He moaned and sucked and licked at my mouth. We shared our love and tears escaped me in the beauty of it. He was just like me.

Throughout our marriage, we did that. The taste always reminds us of our love. It’s as simple as that. Some might grimace and shake their heads. But not Daniel and me. It tasted of the divine. It was our love made real and substantial. Our ‘eucharist’(gratefulness).

Her New Toy

I went back to his cock and loved it with my mouth. I cleaned every part of his cock and he stayed hard the whole time. I spread his legs when I was almost done and then pushed his knees up a little.

“What are you…” he groaned when my flat tongue licked his scrotum.

He had a clean-shaven scrotum. He had done that for me. Later I would find I liked it hairy for some reason. I loved all the hair on his body. He just seemed more manly to me that way. I lapped gently at his scrotum and coated the whole thing in my spit. I loved how his testicles felt under my tongue, and how they rolled and moved. Daniel was in heaven. I could hear him.

I stroked his cock gently as I did it. He had a good ten inches of length on him, so I kept my hand at the top and felt his cock head, slick with spit, thrusting through my loving hand. My tongue lapped at his balls and then I dipped lower and found his taint. It joined in my exploration with my tongue and Daniel was getting wordy.

“Jesus, Emma! Fuck! Lick my balls! Oh my God that feels amazing! Fucking amazing!”

I touched his asshole with a sharp tongue. It felt strange to me. Rubbery. It clenched and I probed harder. Daniel lurched under me, and his cock fell out of my hand and hit his stomach with a wet thwack. A heavy, meaty thwack and I sighed at the beautiful sound. I would hear that for our entire lifetime together.

I couldn’t believe what I was doing. My mother’s words enabled me and let me know that this was okay. Needed. I was cementing our love and setting a standard for us to follow in our marriage. I was owning it with the one man in this world I adored above all others. I wondered if I would like it in return. I knew I would. I tongued him harder and stroked his cock. I licked up to his balls and teased them.

Daniel came. I felt his cum surge through his cock and loved the feeling in my hand. I could feel his seed pumping through his shaft, the flesh surging and flexing with amazing power. I lifted my head and put my mouth around his thick head as his second ejaculation spurted forth. It splashed hot, wet, and thick on my tongue. I swallowed without hesitation. His body was mine. Our marriage united our souls and bodies. He had merely moved it from one vessel to another.

He cried out my name loudly and my heart yearned to hear it spoken like that again. In hearing my name our love was confirmed. Our pleasure combined. He pulled me up and kissed me hard. His cock spasming between us leaking more cum between our bodies.

“I love you Daniel Williams, my husband,” I whispered to him.

“I love you Emma Williams, my wife,” he replied.

We slept for a time. The day had been long and, while wonderful, draining from all the emotions. Our first sex had pushed us to exhaustion and for the first time we slept together in the same bed, as husband and wife.

I woke to pleasure.

His Oral Initiative

It took me a moment to figure out whether I was dreaming and where I was. The long, sensuous lick at my pussy reminded me and I smiled and stretched, feeling feline, and more like a woman.

“Ooh, you better stop before my husband catches us,” I purred.

My husband kept licking at me. It felt wonderful. He was getting better than the few times he had done this before. I had confessed to my priest, and he had not been happy. Right then, I was glad he had some practice.

He brought me to a wonderful orgasm. He slid up to my mouth and kissed me and I savored my taste and told him. He smiled at me.

“You taste wonderful, Emma. I could live off you if that was all I had to eat.”

“Baby, you’re so good to me.”

“I want to do that better. Can you help me?”

I kissed him, my heart swelling for the umpteenth time. “Yes, baby. I can do that.”

He kissed me and slid back down again.

“What? Again?”

“Of course, Emma. Tell me what to do…”

I instructed him. I lay back on the headboard, noticing the rose petals strewn everywhere and sticking to us. We hadn’t even pulled the duvet down. I glanced at the digital alarm clock and saw it was two in the morning. I grinned. We had all the time in the world.

I spread my legs and explained my lady parts to him. I found it highly erotic. My husband lay between my legs and touched and licked me and listened to me explaining my pussy to him. He was attentive and loving and I felt so relaxed and safe with him. I explained how gentle was best. Light licks and touches.

He started. He did everything I had asked. Already he was so much better than before. We had learned from one another. Then he improvised and I lost my mind. Later he said his hunger and lust led him to do the things he did. He ate me out. His tongue was broad between my labia. Light and firm on my clit. He licked everywhere and then focused on my clit. Everything was perfect and then I felt him shift a little and then my eyes popped open. He slid a wet finger into my pussy while he continued to lick my clit. The pleasure went through the roof. I came, but he didn’t stop. He continued and fought my bucking hips. Then a second finger joined his first one and I came again after only a few thrusts.

He grabbed my hips then and lifted and turned me over. It was forceful and strong and so manly, and I knew I would do anything he wanted. He pressed my shoulders down into the duvet and I had a mouth full of rose petals. He took my hands and placed them on my ass cheeks and told me to keep them spread. I had no choice but to eat the rose petals in my mouth. I didn’t care.

I was fully aware my ass was thrust up high in the air. I was spread open and exposed. Exposed to my husband and I loved it.

“Oh baby. Look at me! How do I look with my ass in the air?”

“Emma, so beautiful!”

I went to speak again but he licked me then. He started low on my clit and then wormed his tongue slowly and lovingly up through my labia, into my vagina, over my taint, and then licked my asshole with hunger. I groaned at the sensation. It was so wonderful.

Then two fingers slipped into my pussy. They pushed down and found the spot my mother had told me about. He pressed gently and moved his fingers only a little bit. The heel of his hand pressed on my clit. After a minute, I came the hardest I had ever cum. It was sensory overload. So close on the heels of my last orgasm it found me and owned me completely.

She Gushes

I screamed on the bed. Shouting obscenities. I thrashed on his face and fingers. A strange sensation came over me and I squirted (or something). I heard Daniel shout out something. I didn’t care. That sensation came with a sudden warmth of pleasure that took over my whole body. I was having a complete body orgasm and I drowned in it.

Daniel was kissing my face and it felt wet. I struggled to open my eyes and when I did, he was grinning down at me. I was on my side but had no memory of moving.

“Your face is all wet?” I murmured and cupped his cheek.

“Emma, something came flying out of you. A lot of liquid.”

“Oh my God, I felt like I peed.”

“Did you? Did you pee in my face?”

“Maybe? I read about it. Some say it’s pee, baby. Trapped fluid. It comes out when I orgasm that hard. I did that? It felt amazing…”

“Come on. Shower time. We have to get all these stupid petals off us.”

“Okay…”

When I didn’t move, he tried to lift me. He’s strong but I’m a grown-ass woman. He tried and failed, because I was such a dead weight, and we laughed our asses off. We were covered in petals. We stank of the petals. It was wonderful.

We struggled out of the bed and found a luxurious shower waiting for us.

And hour later we appeared, preened by the water, a new load of his cum filled my pussy.

We collapsed on the bed, and he ate me out again. Part of me knew his cum was still inside me. I didn’t care if he didn’t, and it made me cum faster.

We slept again.

Her Oral Initiative

I woke first and found out my husband snores. Not loudly. A weird sound that I found amusing. I watched him for a time. I sniffed his neck and his armpits. I loved his smell and needed it. I sniffed lower and found his cock lying relaxed between his legs. I watched it for a time, fascinated at the smaller version of it. It was all wrinkled and it moved around on its own. Like a little animal. Even soft it was large. I had married a man with a big cock. I was the luckiest woman in the world.

I blew on it and giggled when it rolled again. His testicles lifted and shifted, and the shaft rolled with it. I licked the tip, and it moved some more. I continued and it started to swell. I watched it grow and strengthen and harden. This was something I could do every day and planned on it.

I took him into my mouth and sucked gently. I loved his flavor and scent. It was all mine. I loved the feeling of him in my mouth. Filling it. Growing inside me. My tongue licked under his head and the spot I knew was sensitive. I heard his sleeping gasp and his hips moved ever so slightly.

I wondered if he was now dreaming of me doing this to him. I grinned, my mouth still full of his cock, and pushed him in deeper. His cock was touching the back of my throat and only half was inside me. I closed my lips and sucked harder and moved his cock in and out of my mouth, pretending my mouth was my pussy.

He woke with a start and looke

Christmas Passions: Part 3Slumber’s Interlude.By...

Thu, 24 Nov 2022 10:38:37 -0600

Christmas Passions: Part 3

Slumber’s Interlude.

By FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Emily was suffocating. Her lungs felt as though they were on fire. The snow was piling in on top of her and there was simply no escape from the wrecked car in which she was trapped. With arms and legs flailing in all directions to no avail, she screamed on and on and on,

‘Emily!’ She heard his voice above her own gasps. He sounded calm, strong, reliable and infinitely dependable. 'Emily!’ he repeated, a little louder, his hands gripping her shoulders. 'Wake up, Sweetheart. You’re having a nightmare.’

In shock, she snapped open her eyes, only to find herself in bed and gazing directly into Sam’s handsome face. Having been woken from his slumber by her cries, Sam had swiftly dashed across the corridor to provide comfort. With immense relief that she wasn’t actually trapped inside a wrecked car, Emily dropped her head back down onto the pillow as her galloping heart rate slowly subsided.

'Thank you,’ she sighed at length. 'I’m not sure what happened there.’

'You had a nightmare. It’s perfectly natural after your accident,’ soothed Sam. Now that she was out of imminent danger, Emily was able to take a proper look at the man who had materialised in her dimly lit room. Wearing shorts and a T-shirt, she was drawn to his muscled, hairy legs and, quite literally, 'just out of bed’ hair; a look which he pulled off to perfection. She had never seen a man look so desirable; so completely out of her league. Sighing deeply, she closed her eyes, simply enjoying the feel of his fingers which continued to comfortingly stroke her bare shoulders. Daringly, she lifted her eyes to his, only to observe that intense gaze once again.

'May I hold you?’ he asked in a gruff voice.

'Yes,’ she nodded, surprised by her immediate reflex response, which had escaped before her astonished brain had a chance to fully process the implications of his question. Within seconds, Sam had closed the bedroom door, flicked the lights back off and slipped under the bedcovers beside her. Sliding across to the centre of the bed, he manoeuvred a disbelieving Emily onto her side before wrapping his strong arms around her, spooning tenderly.

Wearing only a thin, silk camisole, Emily lay there in frozen disbelief, unsure of what to say or do. One thing she did know though; there wasn’t a snowflake’s chance in hell of her falling asleep again now. As she took a deep calming breath, the delicious scent of him filled her lungs and made her spine tighten with desire.

'Good night, Emily,’ he murmured, gently stroking his fingertips across her forearm.

'Good night, Sam,’ she croaked into the darkness, her eyes wide and staring.

As they lay there, Emily listened to his slow, methodical breathing, super-aware of his presence and each and every touch point of their bodies. She could feel herself becoming increasingly aroused; her pussy had begun rhythmically clenching with each stroke of his hand. After a while, he spoke once again.

'Can’t sleep?’ he murmured into her ear.

'No,’ she croaked from deep within her dry throat.

'You’re probably still stressed out from the crash,’ he said kindly.

'Um, maybe,’ she sighed, wiggling her hips backwards to snuggle closer to his body. Through her thin, silk nightdress, she was surprised to feel his thick erection, now nestling between her ass cheeks.

'I’m sorry,’ he groaned quietly. 'It’s the unavoidable curse of being a man.’

'Is it really a curse?’ asked Emily.

'Yeah, sometimes,’ admitted Sam, a smile clearly apparent in his voice. 'You don’t get much leeway to be subtle. If my cock were a person,’ he continued, gently shaking his head. 'It would basically be wearing a fluorescent jacket, holding a loud hailer and shouting “I think you’re stunning and I wanna fuck you all night”.’ A long silence followed this pronouncement. Eventually, Emily finally built up the courage to voice the question she’d been bursting to ask.

'And is that also your opinion?’ she breathed.

'Can I plead the fifth amendment?’ he asked, only half joking.

'If I knew what that involved,’ smiled Emily. 'But I don’t, so you’d best just answer.’ Another long silence followed, during which time the house creaked and groaned from the influence of the snowstorm taking place outside.

'Yeah, I think you’re stunning,’ he eventually admitted, in an undertone. Emily lay stationary in his arms, biting her lower lip, not daring to move.

'And the other part?’ she whispered, her heart rate ramping up with every second that passed.

'You mean do I want to fuck you all night long?’ he queried, sounding increasingly confident.

'Uh-huh,’ groaned Emily, nodding gently.

'I’d substitute the word “fuck” with “make love”, but, yeah, of course,’ he sighed. 'More than anything. What man wouldn’t? Sorry,’ he added, when she failed to respond.

'You know, men and women aren’t that different,’ said Emily at last.

'Is that right?’ sighed Sam, now achingly hard.

'Yeah,’ smiled Emily, wrapping her fingers around his hand and guiding it gently onto her breast. 'Women’s bodies just use slightly more subtle signals.’ Groaning with deep contentment, Sam allowed his thumb to glide up and over her silk-covered, erect nipple before circling gently. His actions immediately elicited a deep moan from Emily, who subconsciously rocked her hips back against him.

Sam stroked one hand tenderly across her flat stomach, whilst the other attended to her throbbing nipples. When he progressed to placing his thumb and index finger around each nub, squeezing and pulling away gently, Emily groaned loudly. Arching her back, she pushed her head into Sam’s shoulder, exposing her tender neck to him.

'You are incredibly sexy, Miss Jones,’ he muttered, starting to kiss teasingly from Emily’s ear lobe down to her collar bone. 'I’m in heaven, just being here with you like this.’ Unable to respond, Emily simply sighed, allowing her spare hand to trail behind her to caress Sam’s rock-hard thighs.

In all honesty, Emily felt almost inebriated; overwhelmed by his pure sensuality and the continuous movement of his hands. It was crazy but, although their lips hadn’t even touched yet, it already felt as though they were making love. It was amazing how his smallest touch encouraged tiny impulses of pleasure to radiate out across her body. Utterly relaxed, Emily allowed him to set the pace. And his pace was slow. Seriously slow.

She had never experienced anything on this level before; a man who had all the time in the world to pleasure her, happy to delay his own gratification for the sake of her enjoyment. As time passed, Emily felt herself surrender to him completely. Eventually, wordlessly, Sam encouraged her to turn in his arms and face him. As she shuffled around, she realised how swollen her pussy had become; arousal had literally started to pool on the bed sheet below. How was it possible to be this turned on already?

Through the darkness, Emily could sense Sam’s face moving closer to hers. As his hand moved up to cup her cheek, she felt his warm breath floating into her mouth, which she opened slightly in willing anticipation. She was, therefore surprised, that the first touch she experienced was from his teeth, encompassing her top lip and tugging gently.

'Uh,’ she groaned, from the sensation of having her mouth trapped by his. He held her there for a long moment, before running his soft tongue across her imprisoned lip, causing a moan to resonate deep within Emily’s throat. As automatically as breathing, her hand migrated to the back of Sam’s head and clung onto his hair. A reciprocal groan sprang from him, as he loosened his hold, only to sink his teeth into her bottom lip and repeat. Eventually Sam released her.

'I must have been very good all year, to have you as my Christmas present,’ he murmured.

'You have been,’ she panted. 'Your aunt’s already informed me that you’re a good boy.’

'Did she?’ he smirked, allowing his slowly circling hands to migrate across Emily’s lower back and teasingly skim her bottom. 'What other lies did she tell you?’

'I think the words she used were faithful and trustworthy,’ gasped Emily, in response to his wickedly exploring hands.

'Ah, well, that’s true. But if you’re looking for somebody who’s good, I’m afraid I’m destined to disappoint you.’

'I just want you,’ sighed Emily, surprised to feel brave enough to share her innermost desires. 'I honestly don’t care much about anything else.’

'That’s a relief,’ growled Sam. 'Because tonight, I hope “good” will be the very last adjective you’ll choose to describe me.’ Dropping his mouth down onto hers, this time, he allowed his full, soft lips to mold themselves to Emily’s, before they embarked on the most exquisite kiss she had ever experienced. When their soft, velvet tongues finally grazed against each other, Emily groaned throatily, unable to prevent herself from naturally lifting her uppermost leg to wrap around his waist. With no panties on, she felt a thrill as the coarse texture of his cotton T-shirt brushed against her wet, throbbing pussy lips. This man was out of this world; the whole day simply had to be a dream.

For Emily, the time she spent with Sam was an education in itself; she had never before been with a man who paid her so much time, care and attention. His hands never once stopped caressing her back, head and shoulders, yet he was in no rush to progress, seemingly happy to kiss, just for the sake of kissing. God, she’d forgotten how much she enjoyed such intimacy. With a heightened sense of self, the experience of simply being alive had never felt so good.

When they eventually drew apart, Emily slowly opened her eyes, surprised to see the room dimly illuminated. Without them being aware, the snowstorm had now quietened, producing occasional breaks in the cloud that allowed moonlight to infiltrate through. As a result, the bright light bounced across the pristine white surfaces outside and crept in through the windows.

'Look at me,’ directed Sam, as he held her close against him. Slowly raising her chin, Emily locked onto his eyes which were twinkling back at her, lines fanning out from the corners, providing a giveaway sign that he was smiling.

'You are so beautiful, Emily,’ he murmured before leaning forwards to plant the lightest of kisses on her lips. His words were spoken with such genuine affection that she feared her heart would explode with longing.

Gradually kissing and nibbling his way down her neck and shoulders, he eased her arms through the straps of her camisole, leaving her feeling vulnerable yet wanton. With the silk garment still covering her breasts, Sam danced his talented lips and tongue across her chest, planting butterfly kisses, whilst purposefully avoiding where she most wanted him to concentrate his obvious talents. Emily’s hands naturally migrated to the back of his head. With her fingers buried in his thick, silky hair, she did her best to guide him towards her throbbing nipples. Aware of her arousal starting to stream from her body, she was painfully desperate for his touch.

'No,’ she groaned as, having felt his tongue skip lightly beneath her camisole to venture over the very edge of her areola, he drifted away once more. Immediately, Sam lifted his head away from her.

'You need me to stop?’ he asked seriously.

'I need you to stop teasing me,’ complained Emily.

'Well, that’s never going to happen,’ he sighed. 'But if you need to sleep, I can stop.’

'Sleep?’ she asked incredulously, her body buzzing with sexual tension. 'You’re kidding me, right? I’ve never felt this turned on.’

'Um, good,’ he sighed with satisfaction, slowly pulling away Emily’s clothing to reveal her aching breasts. 'You aren’t alone.’

'I want you inside me,’ she gasped, as he directed her nipple between his teeth and began to lightly clamp it. Feeling him sucking her sensitive skin deeper into his mouth, before adding his teasing tongue, Emily threw her head back and cried out. Releasing her, he made his way across to her other breast.

'Believe me, you will have me inside you. But until then, I’m a very patient man and I’m not going anywhere,’ he growled, before pulling her other nipple into his warm mouth.

'Fuck!’ cried out Emily in disbelief, as an electrical impulse seemed to travel straight from his mouth to her core. She was so wet now, it was getting ridiculous. She could feel her arousal running across her exposed thigh, over her ass and sticking to the bed sheets below.

'But what about your pleasure?’ she panted, when his gifted mouth finally released her.

'You don’t think being here with you, like this, is giving me the biggest thrill ever?’ he smiled. Creeping further down the bed to kiss her abdomen, he pulled her bunched-up camisole completely away, to leave her naked and entirely vulnerable to his will. 'God, I just want to touch you all night long.’

'Oh, please!’ she cried as Sam hovered his mouth over her tummy before starting to inch lower still.

'If I allow my tongue to explore you here,’ he murmured, the impact of his breath bouncing over her thighs and making Emily feel faint with longing. 'Am I going to discover another one of your subtle signals that confirms you want the same as me?’

'Yes!’ she yelped, as Sam shifted slightly, making Emily anticipate his touch before it actually happened. 'I’ve never wanted anything, or anyone, more than I want you right now,’ she panted frantically.

'Um, good to know,’ he murmured, encouraging a groaning Emily to open her legs wide to him, by lightly leaning his slightly stubbled face against her soft, inner thighs. 'And just to be clear,’ he added, hovering just millimetres above her puffy, exposed pussy. 'The feeling is entirely mutual.’

With a caress so light, Emily wasn’t initially sure if he was touching her at all, Sam began to explore. Using a combination of his fingers and tongue, he teased, stroked and experimented, softly but very, very deliberately. Whenever Sam found a location that caused a particularly appealing reaction, he paused for a beat, sampling with uncontained delight. Emily was singularly aware of her trembling mouth and heavy thighs, as blood pounded around her body. Her spine stiffened when his tongue ceased its long strokes along the length of her swollen lips, to be replaced by a darting, circling flirtation around her clit. Held in a state of extended bliss, she was unable to hear her own soft cries echoing around the room due to the loud, heavy pulse that now filled her ears.

'Please, please,’ she groaned, as his teasing became almost unbearable. Sam paused to respond to her appeal. He had been using his thumbs to tease her lips open further, enabling him to probe her more deeply with his tongue.

'Please what?’ he asked impishly, blowing a fine trail of breath over her hardened clit.

'Please let me come,’ she begged, hands tightly gripping the sheets. 'Please, ’

'Tell me how you want to come,’ he growled. 'What do you need?’

'Your fingers inside me,’ she said quickly, the words falling out of her mouth in desperation. It was so unlike her to be issuing instructions in this way, particularly with somebody she barely knew, but he’d simply made her feel so desperate.

'Just one?’ he suggested, circling his index finger gently around her deep pool of arousal, before ever so slowly allowing it to slide into her warm, tight body. 'Or more?’

'Oh God!’ she groaned, her pelvis grinding against the bed. 'More.’

'Um, yeah. I think more too,’ he breathed, slowly retracting his single finger, before allowing it to return, this time coupled with his thicker middle finger. He was astonished at how easily they slipped into her tightly clenched pussy; she was so incredibly turned on, it was delightful.

'And what about my mouth?’ he murmured, ignoring Emily crying out in reaction to the sensation of being stretched wider.

'Awgh,’ she groaned, unable to find the words to respond, as his fingers moved inside her.

'With my lips sweetly trapping your clit, you think?’ he grinned. 'Yeah, I’m inclined to agree.’ Commencing a continuous, demanding rhythm, Sam began to rock his fingers deep into Emily as he dropped his mouth down. He provided the perfect pressure, clamping his lips around her throbbing nub and working his nimble tongue around her pleasure centre. With great joy, Sam felt Emily shudder around him and he knew she was close.

This is the moment thought Emily to herself, as her entire being ramped up towards her inevitable first orgasm. If I ever have a near-death experience again, this is the memory I want to flash before my eyes to remind me that I’ve truly lived. Moving her hips consistently against his powerful, unforgiving fingers and insistent mouth, Emily quickly surrendered all remaining self-control and crashed headlong into an extraordinarily powerful orgasm which seemed to have no end. When she eventually scaled back down to earth, she was left weak, dizzy and shaking, yet frantic for more. She swallowed hard, in an attempt to lubricate her dry throat, sore from the cries she’d been forced to expel. Retracting from her gently, Sam shuffled upwards and simply held her in his arms, allowing her to smell her own arousal on his breath.

'That sounded pretty nice,’ he murmured at last, once her breathing had recovered.

'Jeez,’ sighed Emily through clenched teeth. 'Do you have any idea how much I want you?’

'Show me,’ he grinned and with a giggle, Emily willingly accepted his challenge. Sliding the T-shirt away from his flat stomach and up over his head, Emily ran her hands over Sam’s warm skin, enjoying the amazing feel of his taut, muscled body beneath her soft fingertips. But she needed to feel closer; as close as it is possible for two people to ever be. Emily had never yearned for another person like she did for Sam; they felt like two halves of the same whole and she couldn’t wait to be joined.

His chest felt so strong and masculine as she ran her face against him, inhaling deeply. God, he smelt fantastic. Allowing her mouth to drop to his skin, she gently grazed her teeth, first against one nipple and then the other, relishing the groans coming from deep within his throat. Gaining confidence, her hands moved further down to his taut abdomen, circling teasingly with softly stroking fingers. Emily’s mouth followed swiftly behind, kissing along Sam’s torso; licking, tasting, nibbling and generally wallowing in the pleasurable sighs and groans he was making.

Unable to help herself, her hands drifted further down Sam’s incredible physique, fingers dipping under the waistband of his shorts and pushing them away. As his cock sprang up to greet her, she could sense herself salivating, so anxious for a taste. Lifting him gently, she wrapped her lips around his warm cock, lapping her tongue over the thick head.

'Uh, Please, Emily,’ groaned Sam.

'Mum?’ she murmured, unwilling to remove her mouth.

'Turn around,’ he requested. 'I need to taste you again. Please, ’

Without removing him from her mouth, Emily managed to shuffle herself around until her pussy was held dripping over his face. With a groan of pleasure, his arms wrapped around her ass as he pulled her downwards and his talented tongue got to work once more. A deep moan rose from Emily’s throat as her grip on his shaft tightened and she took more of his cock into her mouth, her spare hand sliding around to cup and massage his balls.

Drowning in the pleasure of their mutual, intimate touch, Emily and Sam moved softly against each other, pushing the other ever-closer towards climax. Emily’s mouth and hands played with Sam incessantly, until he couldn’t imagine any more blood entering his cock; it would literally be impossible to be harder. In turn, Sam repaid the favour, holding Emily on the precipice of ecstasy, tongue softly probing, fingers everywhere. Emily felt an unexpected wave of power as she held a groaning, shaking Sam hovering on the edge of his own release, by simply swiping her tongue across his throbbing head every few seconds. In turn, he held her clit between his teeth, maintaining a pressure that made arousal flow effortlessly from her pussy.

'I need you to fuck me. I need you right now,’ demanded a panting Emily, releasing him at last.

'Talk to me about

Christmas Passions: Part 2The Manor In The WoodsBy...

Thu, 24 Nov 2022 09:07:02 -0600

Christmas Passions: Part 2

The Manor In The Woods

By FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The landscape was almost entirely white now and dusk was starting to descend with surprising haste. As they walked, Emily observed how their route was bordered by thick, low hedges, laden with frosted, blood-red hawthorn berries and holly leaves; one of the few plants that remained green, within a mass of death and decay which mid-winter always conveyed.

Continuing along the path, they soon found themselves submerged in a dark, dense coniferous forest.

It was deathly quiet here, the evergreen trees packed so tightly that only the lightest sprinkling of dusty snow had so far been able to penetrate the shadowy depths. And yet the temperature seemed to have dropped even further. Emily felt a momentary waver in the high levels of confidence she’d shown, by accompanying Sam. She quietly questioned whether her normally good instincts were continuing to serve her well.

‘Still cold?’ Sam asked, picking up a little on her apprehension. Unable to voice any words, she simply nodded in response. 'I always find singing warms me up. If you’ll join me?’ he requested.

'Sure,’ she croaked, surprised at his suggestion.

Causing a sudden jolt of pleasure to travel up her spine, Sam began to sing in a soft, clear voice, filling Emily’s imagination with the aroma of chestnuts roasting over a gently crackling, open fire. How was it possible that this man was making her feel an excitement for Christmas that she had barely felt since childhood? And certainly not in the past few years.

Immediately recalling the lyrics, as though they were pre-programmed into her very being, she shyly joined in with him.

Although hesitant at first, the two of them quickly relaxed. They rattled off all manner of Christmas songs from 'White Christmas’ and 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer’ through to 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus’. The tunes were often accompanied by much guffawing, when they started to make up their own lyrics in the absence of knowing the correct ones, as well as adding in all manner of questionable vocal percussion. Consequently, it felt like no time at all before they were passing out of the thick canopy of trees and back into the white, snowy wilderness.

Their singing naturally petered out as they trudged around the edge of a huge field which provided a much less intimate setting for vocal melodies, or lack thereof. Indeed, it would have been drowned out by the unmistakable noise of squawking pheasants and distant shotguns filling the air. Skirting beside a river, the looming silhouettes of Giant Hogweed could be seen rising out of the mist, before they turned a sharp corner to follow an alternative footpath which led them directly into a churchyard. Too tired now to be spooked by the lopsided gravestones rising creepily out of the mist, Emily simply kept her head down and focused on Sam’s boots, which marched just ahead of her along the narrow path. It was all but dark by the time they wearily emerged into the main body of the village.

Emily noticed that parts of the main road through the village had been cleared by helpful residents. However, as the temperatures began to plummet once more, sheet ice had formed on the exposed sections, making it more dangerous than ever. Therefore, instead of slipping and sliding her way along the icy road, Emily tucked in behind Sam and followed the channel that his footsteps had made through the deep snow. It was a route which required more strenuous effort but, on the positive side, was less likely to see her fall arse over tit, and make a complete fool of herself.

As they fought their way onwards, Emily found her attention drawn to a huge, eighteenth century manor house, complete with lead-latticed windows and two smoking chimneys at either end of a long, bowing roof. Every light was blazing and a low pulse of music echoed from an open downstairs window. The place was a flurry of activity; the front door wide open, as caterers carrying various trays and boxes continuously made their way across the threshold. Whoever lived there clearly had no respect for the electricity or heating bills.

'Really well done. We’ve made it,’ murmured Sam, sounding relieved.

'Here?’ asked Emily, doing a double take. 'This is your Aunt’s house?’

'Yeah,’ confirmed Sam, gently dusting away the snow which had accumulated on her shoulders, before turning his attention towards his own.

'I was assuming she was a little old lady, living in a flat perhaps,’ admitted Emily, her eyes wide with astonishment, as they made their way up the sweeping driveway.

'She’ll love it, when she hears that,’ laughed Sam, pulling off his gloves to reveal large, strong hands with clean, neatly-trimmed nails. Emily froze. In that instant, all of her attention was directed towards him, as those same hands began to unwind the scarf wrapped around his face. At last, she would see what he looked like.

'Well, please don’t mention it then,’ she stuttered.

'What’s it worth?’ he teased, leaving Emily all but speechless. Was he flirting with her?

'Darlings!’ cried a woman who appeared on the doorstep. 'You poor things! How awful! Come inside!’ Emily stared at her in disbelief; in her sixties, the woman that greeted them was tall, slender, elegant and incredibly attractive. She was adorned with silk scarves, expensive jewellery and an expression of uninhibited delight, as though she knew a very great secret that she couldn’t wait to share.

'Emily, this is my Aunt Rosamunde,’ introduced Sam proudly. 'Aunt, this is Emily Jones.’

'Rose, to my friends,’ she explained, putting her arm around Emily and drawing her into the warmth of her home. 'Of which you already are.’ Emily found herself unsure of where to look. Part of her wanted to soak up the interior of the amazing house into which she was now being led, but equally, she was desperate to find out what lay beneath Sam’s exterior layers of clothing.

'Oh, Sammie, Darling? Before you get too comfortable, ’ Rose added, glancing backwards. Excruciatingly, her words made him pause in his partial state of undress, just as he was about to remove his hat and scarf. 'Please could you grab another wheelbarrow full of logs from the woodshed and put them in the boot room? I’m sure we’ll run out otherwise.’

'Only on the condition that you look after Emily, while I’m gone,’ he stated, before looking directly at Emily. 'If that’s okay with you, of course?’ he asked. She nodded shyly in response, touched that he’d bothered to ask.

'Of course I’m going to look after her!’ the older lady exclaimed.

'Then, of course, I will get you some more logs, Auntie Rosie,’ he teased, walking once again into the cold evening and pulling his gloves back on.

'Oh! Get away with you, you cheeky boy!’ exclaimed Rose with a chuckle. 'He always calls me that whenever I accidentally revert back to his childhood nickname. He knows full well it makes me sound like I’m a hundred years old,’ she explained, hanging up Emily’s dripping coat and leading her through to the kitchen. Not unexpectedly, the kitchen was incredible; a huge room, with painted white walls, infilled with thick black beams and bordered by a selection of Welsh dressers and overflowing granite work surfaces. Against one wall stood an enormous navy blue Aga throwing out a serious amount of much-welcome heat. Meanwhile, the centre of the room was taken up with a scrubbed pine table and chairs which looked as though they had served the needs of several generations before.

'Now, let’s get you defrosted. How about a nice warming drink?’ asked Rose.

'That would be wonderful,’ admitted a lightly shivering Emily, subtly making her way towards the Aga, to share some of its precious warmth. 'A coffee would be lovely if you have one.’ Almost unnoticed, one of the catering ladies who was silently floating around the room, flicked a switch to set the coffee machine into action and laid out two coffee cups, cream and sugar on the table. Meanwhile, Rose had marched to the back of the room and was scrabbling around in a cupboard.

'Or how about something a bit stronger?’ she asked, waving a bottle of Whiskey above her head, whilst wiggling her eyebrows in Emily’s direction. 'You could have an Irish coffee, best of both worlds?’ she suggested with a smile. Giggling, Emily shook her head.

'Just a coffee would be great, for now,’ she added, receiving a nod of approval from her host.

'Of course, you’re right,’ agreed Rose, making her way back to the table and pouring out their coffees from the jug which had seamlessly been delivered. Emily accepted the welcome beverage, wrapping her frozen hands around the cup and gratefully inhaling the steam. 'We should definitely pace ourselves. My dear, late husband would have said just the same,’ she confessed, smiling fondly.

'I’m sorry,’ said Emily sadly, as she received confirmation that Rose was indeed a widow.

'Oh, my dear,’ she said warmly, laying her dainty hand over one of Emily’s and squeezing gently. 'I knew love in my lifetime. True love, the kind that inspires people to write songs and write books and do all manner of other glorious things. So I absolutely forbid you to feel sorry for me.’

'How wonderful,’ murmured Emily, sighing with deep contentment. 'Would you tell me about him?’ And with great delight, Rose did just that. As she launched into the story of how they first met, Emily provided a completely rapt audience, wanting no more in that instant, than to hear their true love story.

Sam returned a short while later, to find Emily and his aunt sitting cosily in the kitchen, holding hands, giggling outrageously and chatting ten to the dozen. Neither of them had noticed his arrival, so with great pleasure he simply stood and observed the two women, between which an indisputable spark of friendship had already been ignited.

'Darling!’ Rose exclaimed with delight. With her concentration broken, Emily twisted around in her seat to be confronted by a sight that she knew was already being meticulously downloaded into her memory, to remain imprinted there for the rest of time. Quite simply, the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on, was leaning against the oak-framed doorway watching them. Utterly relaxed, with his arms folded, it was his wide smile, piercing dark eyes and perfectly messed up dark hair that immediately caught her attention. Slowly, her eyes dared to drop down and devour the rest of him. She processed every tiny detail, from his lithe body and strong forearms, right down to the thick navy blue socks he wore, stretched over his large feet.

Unable to drag her eyes away, Emily’s gaze tracked his progress as he loped across the room, to grab another mug from the cupboard. Although she caught only a fleeting glimpse, unbelievably his back view seemed comparable to the front. Gulping in disbelief, she looked across at Rose for support. Her host seemed unusually quiet; half smiling, half grimacing, apparently incapable of speech. Glancing down at the table, a horrified Emily realised she was tightly clenching Rose’s hand. Too good-mannered to complain, relief flooded across the older lady’s face when the firm grip was eventually relinquished.

'Sorry,’ whispered Emily. Apologising had the added bonus of making her aware that, until that point, her mouth had been hanging open in utter shock. Swiftly rectifying her vacant look, Emily clamped her mouth tightly shut and tried to breathe as calmly as possible through her nose. There wasn’t anything she could do about her flushed face, but with any luck, that could be blamed on the extremes of temperature she’d been subjected to over the past few hours.

By this time, the man had joined them at the table and was pouring a steaming coffee into his own mug. Emily subconsciously licked her lips as his mouth wrapped around the cup and swallowed with contentment. The low groan he made, as that initial sip slid down his throat, caused a twinge to flutter across her tingling, already swollen pussy. This man was beyond gorgeous.

Emily’s mind was whirring, unable to believe he might actually be Sam. Surely this couldn’t be the man she’d spent the last two hours joking and chatting with, whilst methodically annihilating Nat King Cole’s back catalogue, could it? She would never have mildly flirted and nonchalantly shared a chocolate bar in the snow with a man who looked like, well, THAT. She shuffled slightly in her seat as a surge of blood pumped towards her abdomen. And then his familiar tone filled the room and her question remained unanswered no longer. God help her, it was definitely him.

'It looks like you two are destined to be great friends,’ he observed wryly. Neither of the two women responded; Emily because she was speechless, Rose because she was delightedly watching Emily’s reaction to the arrival of her favourite nephew. 'So, what’s the big joke?’ pressed Sam. 'You were laughing hysterically a moment ago and now there’s nothing but silence. What’s up?’

Recognising the signs of Emily’s distress, Rose stepped in to help. She had personally only observed a reaction like this once before in her life, decades earlier. It was etched on her heart because it was the precious night that she had met and fallen in love with her beloved husband.

'I was just sharing some stories about dear Arthur,’ explained Rose swiftly, but she had already lost her audience.

'You’re trembling,’ observed Sam, looking kindly at Emily. 'Come on,’ he said, taking another swig of his beverage before standing up. 'I’ll show you to your room. Then you can have a nice long bath and warm up again.’

With both of them gazing at her, as though waiting for her to take some form of action, Emily felt she had little choice but to follow Sam out of the kitchen. She wasn’t entirely convinced the cold was responsible for making her tremble, but that wasn’t something Sam needed to know. Instead, she allowed him to lead her through the house. Together, they ascended the grand staircase before turning off a long corridor.

'This is you,’ he explained, making his way into a large bedroom with a four-poster bed. Her bag had already been delivered and placed in a wing-backed armchair. 'And the en suite is just through there,’ he added, pointing towards an adjoining bathroom.

'Wow, it’s amazing,’ she croaked, overwhelmed by such a beautiful room. 'Thank you so much. Are there enough bathrooms for you to take a bath too?’

'Why do you ask?’ he teased. 'Would you rather share?’

'No!’ she gasped quickly.

'Is everything okay, Emily?’ he asked with concern. 'You seem different compared to earlier, more tense?’

'I’m fine. Thanks,’ she said a little flustered. Apart from the fact she’d surmised he had children and so probably a wife, it really wouldn’t do to let him know the overwhelming effect he was having on her body.

'Okay, if you’re sure,’ he replied, clearly not convinced. 'Help yourself to whatever you need and I’ll see you downstairs when you’re ready. And don’t rush, I know from experience that sometimes, only a long, luxurious bath will do when you’re chilled to the bone. There’s tons of hot water, always is, so don’t hold back. My aunt doesn’t know the meaning of the word economising!’ He was just closing the door behind him when a final thought occurred.

'Oh, and don’t forget to call your folks,’ he added, walking back into the room and handing his mobile phone to her. 'The four-digit keycode to unlock the screen is my age,’ he grinned. 'See if you can guess it.’

'Seriously?’ she protested, temporarily knocked-out of her shyness.

'Yep,’ he laughed. 'I’ll give you a clue. The first two numbers are zero, zero. Don’t forget to tell your parents you’re staying with a perfectly respectable lady. Probably best not to mention her far from respectable nephew.’ With a wink that made Emily’s cheeks and neck flush, their eyes met lingeringly before Sam closed the door firmly behind himself.

With the huge bath gradually filling, Emily took Sam’s phone with a significant level of apprehension and tried to guess his keycode. Starting with an estimate of thirty-five, which was her own age, Emily gradually added one year until the phone unlocked at zero zero three nine. With a level of willpower she was unaware she possessed, Emily entered her parents’ home phone number, without once scrolling through his photographs, previous texts, or any other personal information Sam had willingly entrusted her with.

Her parents’ relief when they realised their daughter was safe was palpable. Indeed, it only served to emphasise how right Emily had been not to contact them, before she could give them good news. Providing as much information as she could, Emily described the events of the day and her current location and plans. With a promise to try her best to see them tomorrow, although she had no idea how, she rang off and sank into the welcoming, deep, steamy bubble bath with a satisfied groan.

Following several top ups of hot water, during which time she could hear more and more partygoers gathering downstairs, Emily eventually stepped out from the bath, her cold, aching body now warm, supple and relaxed. The sounds of excited chatter, clinking glasses and increasingly raucous laughter echoed up through the floorboards below. Wrapped in a thick, soft bath sheet, she wandered back into the opulent bedroom and emptied her rucksack. Her clothing choices were very limited; she was going to have to wear what she’d purchased for Christmas day. Having dressed in the dark-green, velvet dress, coupled with her favourite lace underwear, Emily felt classy, elegant and unsurprisingly sexy. It was either that or jeans and, glancing out of the window to see what some of the late arrivals were wearing, it didn’t look like a jeans kind of event.

Once she was satisfied with her physical appearance, Emily turned her attention to her questionable emotional state. It was time to give herself a thoroughly stern talking to. In all probability, Sam wasn’t single. Besides which, he was utterly, gloriously, perfectly gorgeous. Only in her very wildest dreams would she end up with a man like that. Furthermore, it was clear he had enjoyed spending time with her on their walk, when she’d been behaving like her normal self. So acting like some love sick teenager, incapable of rational conversation, wasn’t going to be helpful on any level. It would be much more sensible to just relax and enjoy their limited time together as friends. And with that mantra firmly lodged in her mind, Emily took a deep breath, retrieved his phone from her bed and drifted downstairs.

The party was a roaring success. Even though the bad weather had prevented many from attending, the majority of the village had still turned out to help make it a night to remember. Emily found herself chatting non-stop, not just to Rose and Sam whom she naturally gravitated towards, but to an array of other guests, many of which were delightful company. Towards the end of the evening, Sam sidled up behind her, taking her quite by surprise.

'Dance with me?’ he murmured into her ear. Looking around to see his smiling face, she felt her stomach drop with lust. Up close and personal, dressed in black tie, he truly was faint-making.

'Sure,’ Emily replied, in the calmest tone she could muster. She watched in astonishment as he picked up her hand, stroked her sensitive palm gently with his thumb and led her towards the dance floor at the far end of the house. The beat was slow, sultry and purposeful as 'Please come home for Christmas’ oozed out of the speakers. Gently, Sam pulled Emily’s body against his own. In a heightened state of bliss, Emily lay her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Revolving slowly around the room, they were aware of no one but each other. With her hands placed properly around his back, she could feel his taut muscles moving beneath her fingertips and the easy sway of his hips against hers. It was, quite simply, overwhelming.

Disappointment flooded her as the song naturally came to an end. When it was replaced by 'All I want for Christmas is you,’ Sam readjusted his hold on her and continued to dance, causing Emily’s heart to soar once more. With a wide smile, Emily was unable to prevent herself from gazing up at him, her admiration blatantly discernible.

'Is everything okay?’ he asked gently.

'Everyth

Christmas Passions: Part 1Driving Into the Driving Snow!By...

Thu, 24 Nov 2022 07:34:29 -0600

Christmas Passions: Part 1

Driving Into the Driving Snow!

By FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The snow was falling so heavily that it had become almost hypnotic. Coupled with the rapid, monotonous beat of the windscreen wipers which were fighting a losing battle to maintain visibility, Emily was impressed she was managing to make any progress at all. Several miles previously, she’d been forced to leave the busy A road she normally travelled along when visiting her parents, due to a multi-car accident. From the number of blue flashing lights reflecting across the snowy surfaces at the scene, it had looked pretty serious, suggesting there was little chance of the route being cleared for several hours.

Emily had therefore taken the bold yet questionable decision of driving along the little-used, untreated back roads, in an attempt to keep moving.

Being relatively near to her final destination in the heart of West Sussex, and having grown up in the vicinity, it was a route she knew well. This was a blessing given that the thick, swirling snow was now settling with a vengeance. Under the white blanket, the exact positioning of the road surface became increasingly blurred, forcing a confused Emily to rely heavily upon local landmarks. Hedgerows and tunnels of trees, now devoid of their thick summer foliage, became invaluable to assist her slow progress, under such difficult circumstances as these.

Crawling forwards, occasionally sliding on the slick surfaces, she passed a series of abandoned vehicles and felt her stomach roll with nervous apprehension. One of them looked suspiciously like a Ferrari and she felt a flash of pride that her own bog-standard car was managing to outperform the expensive hot hatch. Yet, with another seven miles still left to travel and the snow falling more heavily with every passing minute, much like the weather surrounding her, her chances of success were looking increasingly bleak. Gulping down fast, shallow breaths, she continued resolutely onwards, her cold, clammy hands providing a stark contrast to the hot, red flush radiating from her face and neck. It was physiological evidence, if any were seriously required, that driving in such poor weather conditions could be incredibly stressful.

Edging her way onwards, Emily found her mind starting to wander towards her family and the festive celebrations they had planned over the next few days. Somehow, Christmas always made her feel lonelier than at any other time of year, despite having her nearest and dearest present. Her favorite Christmas song proclaimed it was hard to be alone at this time of year, and never had that sentiment been truer. The knowledge that everybody would be coupled up in their happy pairings; her parents, her brother John with his wife, her sister Jane and husband Dan. Even the dog and cat were known to annually suspend hostilities and naturally migrate together beside the open fire, although theirs was always destined to be a rocky partnership. Emily stood out as the only singleton in a mass of happy couples. And it was so not cool for a woman in her mid-thirties to be jealous of the cat.

Her melancholy wasn’t helped by memories of what had taken place exactly three years ago, to the day. Her long-term boyfriend, in his great wisdom, had chosen Christmas Eve as the most appropriate time to make his big announcement. He no longer loved her and hadn’t done for some time, apparently. And that, as they say, was that. For the days and nights that had followed, Emily had played the song, ‘A Winter’s Tale’, almost obsessively on repeat. It seemed to so completely describe the wretched situation she found herself in. His thoughtless actions had even managed to tinge her favorite Christmas song with a dash of unbearable sadness, and that was unforgiveable.

A heartbroken Emily subsequently discovered that, with indecent haste, he had become engaged to an ex-girlfriend. Before anyone could say “shotgun wedding”, they were married and excitedly preparing to welcome their first child into the world. Although each new snippet of information hurt slightly less than the last, the news had still subjected her to actual physical pain, further hampering the recovery of her injured heart.

Despite it being a cliché though, time really was proving to be a great healer. Indeed, deep down, Emily could now accept that they would never have been compatible in the long term. Even while they were still together, she’d always experienced a nagging doubt, even though her brain worked strenuously to suppress it at the time. Looking back, she remembered wondering whether it was really her that he wanted, or did he just want someone. Certainly, the speed at which he could drop one girlfriend and obtain a replacement, suggested the latter scenario, and only added weight to her theory. These days, she no longer wanted him back. Indeed, with distance, she’d come to recognise that he had been insensitive and emotionally weak. But although his spell over her was broken, the curse he’d cast over Christmas remained firmly in place.

Making her way carefully around another abandoned car, Emily fought off the melancholy she always felt when her unwelcome ex appeared in her thoughts. In the past year, she had put a limited amount of effort into meeting someone new, in the hope of finding love again. But was she really cut out for a life of dating apps? Swiping left or right and being asked a barrage of personal, often intimate questions, whilst trying to fend off dick pics and unsolicited instant messages, were so not her idea of a good time. Wasn’t there just somebody kind, sexy and decent out there?

Negotiating around a sharp corner, her skin crawled in memory of a recent date she’d had with a guy, following a brief conversation online. It had quickly become apparent from the outset that theirs would never be a harmonious coupling. Emily was searching for romance, connection, belonging and, dare she even admit it these days, love. It swiftly became blatantly clear that he was looking for a one off, no strings attached, fuck fest. Needless to say, that night he’d gone home disappointed. Despite being fed up with her single status, Emily struggled to believe that advertising yourself on the internet like some second-hand car was the way forward. She’d recently shared her thoughts with her sister who, in her infinite wisdom, had tried to console her.

'You’ll know when you find the one,’ her sister had advised, gushing with positivity. 'And it will happen, I promise.’ Easy for her to spew out such platitudes, Emily had noted at the time. With a glorious husband, two apparently perfect children and a Labrador in tow, she was the epitome of contentment. Besides, Emily wasn’t willing to just settle into another relationship now. Next time, she wanted something extraordinary, or nothing at all. She’d reached a time in her life where she wasn’t willing to mess about any longer.

'Oh fuck!’ she cried out, as her car suddenly started to slide out of control. Emily quickly discovered that cruising sideways down a steep incline provided a very effective distraction from chronic wistfulness. Never able to remember whether you should turn your wheels into a skid, or out of it, she tried both options with minimal consequence, whilst her foot pressed down hard on the brake pedal. Trapped in a metal box, skidding towards a very solid-looking, highly inconveniently placed line of trees, Emily squealed. Her eyes automatically snapped shut, preparing for the inevitable impact and subsequent pain.

She’d heard of people’s lives flashing before their eyes, upon finding themselves in a near-death experience. Of course she had. What she hadn’t banked on was for her mind to take it upon itself to come up with such a random, eclectic and downright weird selection of memories. The images started off sensibly enough; her parents with their arms wrapped around each other, laughing. The epitome of the loving relationship which Emily herself secretly strived to achieve. The movie reel quickly cut to a goldfish which she had won as an eight-year old at the local fair, repetitively circling in its plastic bag. Next, a disco she’d attended, where her older sister had kissed a boy she’d had a secret crush on as a teen. Finally, she was doing her university finals, watching the dust float languidly in the hot, sunlit air above her small, wooden desk. Silently, she observed the names of students, stretching back over previous decades, deeply carved into the grainy surface. And then, nothing but darkness.

'That’s it?’ thought Emily, feeling ridiculously short-changed, just before her car came to an ultimate and untimely stop. That bizarre and outrageously uninspiring set of memories was the best her brain could come up with, when faced with the threat of potential death? Seconds later, accompanied by an explosive bang that ricocheted painfully through her skull, her car became intimately acquainted with an Oak tree as the engine cut out. For a few silent seconds, she remained hunched over, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, both unable and unwilling to open her eyes. Every muscle in her body was tightly constricted, while her pulse beat off the charts.

As she clenched and relaxed each of her limbs individually in turn, Emily was relieved not to feel any immediate injury. Perhaps, she considered, the memories your brain selects are dependent upon the severity of the situation in which you find yourself? One thing was for sure, though. She needed to get out more and give her brain some higher quality fodder, should the worst ever happen again. Life was short; she seriously needed to start living it. With that thought at the forefront of her mind, Emily found the necessary courage to open her eyes.

'Shit,’ she groaned, taking in the alarming sight before her. A brief glance down confirmed no obvious injuries to her own body, but her car hadn’t been so lucky. Rough, snow-covered bark belonging to the aforementioned Oak tree, loomed large in the driver’s side window, just inches from her face. Meanwhile, the crumpled car bonnet and cracked windscreen bore evidence of the brunt of the impact. Emily gazed forwards into the middle distance, observing the isolation and complete lack of nearby houses. She couldn’t help but wonder what on earth she should do next. Unexpectedly, a movement in the side mirror attracted her attention. Before she knew what was happening, the passenger-side door was wrenched open and a large, masked man leapt into the seat beside her, accompanied by a frigid blast of arctic air and an eruption of snowflakes.

'Don’t move!’ he demanded, closing the door behind himself. Emily tried to scream, but an absence of sound escaped from her throat. Instead, just a weak 'ree’ glided pathetically through the air, at a pitch not dissimilar to that of a whistling kettle. With an effort that abysmal, realised Emily, the only creatures whose attention she was likely to attract were bats, or perhaps a Blue Whale, under very different environmental circumstances.

In terror, she slowly turned to face him. He was dressed entirely in black, with the exception of a thin layer of snow which had collected across his broad shoulders. A hood was secured tightly around his head whilst a scarf covered most of his face. As a result, only the darkest pair of eyes that Emily had ever seen, remained on display.

'My money’s in the glove compartment,’ she squeaked, nodding almost imperceptibly towards his knees.

'That’s good to know, I guess,’ he replied, and despite her distress, Emily identified a hint of amusement in his tone. Oh God, was she dealing with a complete psychopath?

'But right now,’ he continued. 'I’m concerned you might have whiplash, so don’t move.’

'You’re, you’re here to help me?’ she stumbled. 'Not to steal from me?’

'Steal from you?’ he chuckled. 'Who do you think I am? Dick Turpin? The most infamous of all the highwaymen, ’ Emily felt very foolish.

'Well, I’m pretty confident I don’t have whiplash, thank you,’ she replied, her good manners and upbringing forcing her to be polite to this stranger, who had appeared uninvited in her car, scared her half to death and now seemed to be laughing at her. 'I might be at risk of an early onset heart attack though,’ she added pointedly.

'I’m sorry,’ he murmured. 'But you ought to be congratulated. That was one hell of an impressive slide!’

'Yeah, right up to the moment of impact,’ she agreed dryly. 'I didn’t see you.’

'Well, when you passed me, you did have your eyes closed,’ he said teasingly. 'Plus, I took cover when I saw what was happening. You can let go of the steering wheel now, by the way.’

Emily looked down to find her hands were still clamped tightly around it. Concentrating hard, she carefully released each of her fingers from their fraught grip before stretching her quivering hands out flat and placing them purposefully into her lap.

'My poor car,’ she sighed, gently shaking her head.

'Ultimately, it’s only a car,’ the man pointed out. 'You’re okay. That’s what matters.’

'I guess,’ she agreed, breathing out a long, shaky sigh.

'Do you need to telephone anyone?’ he asked kindly, recognising her clearly delicate emotional state.

'Maybe I should,’ Emily agreed, grappling in her coat pocket for her mobile phone. After hitting a few buttons, she dropped the device onto the dashboard.

'No signal?’ he asked.

'No battery,’ she replied slightly sheepishly. 'I’m not the world’s most prepared traveller, even when extreme weather warnings have been issued for days in advance.’

'Here,’ he said softly. Unzipping one of his coat pockets, he pulled out an iPhone, unlocked it and handed it across. 'Feel free to use mine.’ Emily gazed down at the phone, surprised to be confronted with the screensaver image of a pirate, the man who was sitting next to her, she imagined, but it was impossible to tell. He wore the requisite eye patch, bandana, huge fake bushy beard and a lopsided toy parrot perched on his shoulder. Climbing all over him, while grinning inanely, were two young children.

'You?’ she smiled.

'For my sins,’ he nodded.

'Thanks, but I won’t,’ Emily grimaced, handing the device back to its owner. 'Not until I’m safe. I wouldn’t want my family to worry, or worse still, try and drive out in this crazy weather to rescue me.’

'You’re safe right now,’ he said meaningfully. Something in his tone made Emily look up at him properly for the first time and in that brief moment, their eyes locked. With her stomach suddenly shifting into free-fall, she inhaled sharply, immediately retracting her gaze as though she’d been electrocuted.

'You could call for a rescue service but I’ve already tried that for my car,’ he explained. 'Unsurprisingly, they’re inundated and prioritising emergencies, which thankfully we are not.’

'Your car broke down too?’ queried Emily.

'Yeah,’ he admitted with a nod, and this time Emily was confident of hearing amusement in his deep voice. 'Though in a far less spectacular fashion than yourself. In comparison to you, I would describe myself as an amateur, at best.’

'Where were you heading?’ she smiled.

'Barlavington estate. Family Christmas, you know?’ Emily sighed inwardly with pleasure. He had such a lovely strong voice, full of expression and tone; like a comforting tune that she’d once known, but long forgotten. He sounded reassuringly familiar. It was a shame she could make out so little of the rest of him, dressed up for blizzard conditions as he was. The only thing she knew for sure was that he was certainly tall. His build was much more difficult to decipher, given all the layers of clothing he was wearing. And unless he started unwrapping the various scarves from around his face, she had no idea what he looked like either. 'You?’ he prompted, breaking her daydream.

'Me? Oh, um, I’m heading to Sutton for the same reason,’ she replied. 'So just the next village along from you. I normally stick to the main road, but there was an accident.’

'Yeah, me too,’ he explained. 'I thought I’d take my chances with the back roads.’

'And how’s that working out for you?’ grinned Emily, starting to see the humour in their situation.

'Surprisingly well,’ he admitted. Unsure exactly what he meant by that, Emily found herself temporarily silenced. 'Well,’ he continued. 'As much as I’m enjoying myself, we can’t stay here chatting much longer. It’ll be dark shortly and my aunt’s house is still a couple of miles away on foot. But at least it’s somewhere warm to spend the night, before trying to finish the journey tomorrow.’

'Sounds like you’re all sorted,’ said Emily, feeling deflated. She had no idea what her next step should be. 'Thank you very much for checking I was okay. It was nice to meet you.’

'So you don’t want to join me then?’ he asked in a teasing tone. 'You’re not up for a short hike?’

'Join you? Wouldn’t your aunt mind?’ she replied, her pulse ramping up a notch, accompanied by more than a frisson of excitement.

'No, the more the merrier, as far as she’s always concerned,’ he explained. 'Have you got any outdoor gear?’

'Yes, in the back of the car.’ He clearly didn’t consider her current clothing was appropriate for bleak midwinter and, begrudgingly, she knew he was right. Unfastening her seatbelt with still shaking fingers, she gasped as he placed one of his gloved hands on hers.

'No, you stay there,’ he instructed. 'I’m already dressed for this crazy weather.’ A freezing blast of air entered the car as he darted back outside. As the door closed once more, all that remained of his presence was a faint whiff of delicious smelling aftershave and a melted puddle of snow on the floor.

Emily chanced a quick glance at herself in the rear view mirror and instantly regretted doing so; she wasn’t looking her best. Although her bright blue eyes sparkled, they were surrounded by an unsurprisingly flushed and blotchy face. Briefly, Emily ran her fingers through her long blonde hair before giving it up as a bad job; she was clearly fighting a losing battle. Moments later, her white knight re-appeared, accompanied by walking boots and an assortment of thick, waterproof coats, hats, scarves and gloves.

'Hey! What are you talking about?’ he exclaimed, dumping the collection unceremoniously on his vacant seat. 'You’re a highly prepared traveller. You’ve got clothing for every possible seasonal eventuality back there!’

'It’s very kind of you to assume I’m organised,’ explained Emily, feeling a little foolish. 'But it’s actually just extreme laziness; I basically use my car to store all of my outdoor clothes.’

'Right,’ he chuckled. 'Well, I’ll leave you to get changed. Oh, do you have an overnight bag, by the way? I couldn’t see one.’ Emily nodded towards a small rucksack on the back seat. Having kicked off her flat shoes, she was struggling to pull a walking boot on; not an easy task in the presence of a steering wheel. 'Seriously?’ he exclaimed. 'That’s it?’

'Yeah, that’s it,’ she confirmed. 'I dropped all my family’s gifts off the other week, so I just needed a couple of changes of clothes and some toiletries.’

'Wow, well, I’ll stick your bag into my rucksack to save you carrying it, if you like?’

'Thank you, that’s really kind.’

'No problem,’ he replied, grabbing her bag before doffing an imaginary cap. 'Oh, and don’t forget your purse is in the glove compartment, seeing as I never claimed it for my own,’ he laughed, closing the door once more.

Emily spent the next couple of minutes fighting her way into her outdoor clothing, whilst occasionally glancing through the window to keep track of her masked companion. Unable to open the driver’s door, due to the up close and personal presence of an Oak tree, she struggled across the centre console and exited via the passenger side. Immediately, a blast of biting wind cut around her exposed face, thanks to the snow being blown almost diagonally across the white landscape. A shudder of goosebumps passed across her shoulders and she hoped they wouldn’t have to be out in such unforgiving conditions for too long. Stowing his phone in a side pocket, the man moved swiftly across to Emily and closed the door behind her. He then held out his hand in an unexpectedly formal way.

'Sam Whitehall,’ he announced through the layers of scarf which still covered his face.

'Emily J

The Virgin Couple: After the Vows

Wed, 23 Nov 2022 21:28:37 -0600

The Virgin Couple: After the Vows -

A woman awakens her sexual desire in her marriage bed. (part 1)

From the Awakening, By Estcher. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The Courtship

My name was Emma Mary Fiore Amato. Now I proudly carry my husband’s name: Emma May Fiore Williams. My brand new, gorgeous, and sexy husband is Daniel Christopher Williams. He’s African American and I am Italian American.

We met in the University of California San Diego (UCSD) as freshmen. We dated despite my reservations of dating a black man. I was not a fan of unwanted attention and being seen with him at school and downtown caused eyes to stare.

But I was attracted to Daniel right away. We shared a class together and the first time I walked into the classroom, and I saw him, my heart had skipped a beat. He had felt the same way. It wasn’t until a month later that he summoned the nerve to ask me out. We went to a dinner down at Liberty Station and then walked the boardwalk past where the San Salvador replica galleon was being made and along the inner harbour.

It was a lovely first date. Afterward, he kissed me outside my dormitory, and I kissed him back and told him I would like to go out again. He was so pleased.

Daniel is gorgeous. He’s my height but very slim. He keeps his hair short and has a short-cropped beard. He wears black rimmed glasses. He does a little gym and a little cardio. Not a lot, but just enough to keep him fit. He’s strong. His ass is golden.

I was first attracted to his eyes. His glasses have a way of making them larger than life and they pulled me in. His dark skin enhancing the white of his eyes and his lovely teeth past his full lips. That first kiss outside my dorm had melted me.

On our second date I admitted I was a devout Catholic, being a proper Italian American girl. Sex was not allowed outside the marital chamber. I could tell he was devastated. We could both feel the attraction to one another. A look from him would get me all tingly. I was a regular at the confessional at my church, admitting my sin and lust. I would accept my penance and say my prayers kneeling at a pew, gazing with adoration to the figure of Christ above the altar, counting my prayers on my rosary.

Throughout our years at UCSD we were never apart. Our love life was constrained to kissing throughout our freshman year, to a little petting during our sophomore and junior years, and as seniors we had performed oral sex on each other a couple of times. My penance for that consisted of working at various soup kitchens in the Gaslamp District of San Diego. Daniel joined me and I think I truly fell in love with him when he did. He shared my penance and I rejoiced.

My parents were shocked when I had introduced Danial to them. They aren’t racist, but they had hoped I would meet someone “more like me”, my mother had said. But it was too late for me. I adored Daniel and together we were wonderful. In time, they accepted our relationship. It helped that Daniel was so well spoken and so intelligent. They could see the good in him and although he was Baptist by his christening, he believed in God and that was enough for my parents to accept him.

It was so hard not to cave into our sexual desires. We wanted each other so terribly badly. But I was a good Catholic girl and took my faith very seriously. Daniel understood and somehow, he stayed with me throughout college. Our friends always tried to pressure us. My girlfriends thought I was archaic; disillusioned about values they said no longer applied in the modern world. His friends were no better, urging him to leave me for “someone better”. By the end of college, we had few friends, but by that point in our relationship, I only needed Daniel and he only needed me.

Proposing & Nuptials

We decided to wait until our careers started before we took things any further with our relationship. He started work at an architectural firm in San Diego, and I accepted an accounting position out in Coronado. One year later he proposed to me. My heart soared on that day, and I will never forget it. It had been magical and perfect, and I accepted right away, and he spun me around.

My parents had known. Daniel has asked them for my hand in marriage and they had happily agreed. We set a date for the end of summer, and I dove into planning and preparations. My only remaining girlfriend, a friend from church, became my bridesmaid and helped with everything.

The wedding was beautiful. Standing before my future husband in front of God and my family and friends and making my vows was the most beautiful thing I had ever done. He looked so gorgeous in his tuxedo. I never loved him more. We said our vows, exchanged rings, and then he kissed me in front of everybody. Claiming me as his bride and wife.

I felt liberated. He was now my husband. Everything we had always wanted to do for the past five years was now open to us. We could consummate our marriage and love. Over and over again. I walked back down the aisle, a woman and a wife, and my pussy couldn’t have been wetter. Lust ran over me in waves and I gripped Daniel’s hand so tightly.

The rest of the day and evening went by in a blur. I had to watch the video later to see just how much of a good time we had. But mostly I watched how Daniel and I looked at each other. Everyone said we looked with such love at each other. In truth, we were looking at each other with unbridled lust.

Then, thankfully, we exited the reception to cheering family and friends and entered the limo my father had provided, and we were whisked away to our hotel. In the morning, we were heading to Hawai'i for our honeymoon. But tonight. Tonight, I would become my man’s woman. He would take me and complete me.

I don’t recall checking in, or the elevator ride to our suite, or Daniel carrying me in his arms across the threshold to our suite. What I remember is tearing off our clothes and collapsing on the large California King bed. Later, I would peel rose petals off my flesh and Daniel’s.

I was a good Catholic girl. I had followed my faith, confessed my sins, and did my penance. But now? Now I was married and in the eyes of God, I would and could pleasure my husband. I knew the scripture. My chains were removed.

Mother Prepared Me

“Wives, be subject to your husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Saviour. As the church is subject to Christ, so let wives also be subject in everything to their husbands.” Saint Paul’s letter to the Ephesians.

My mother had given me advice the day before the wedding. She said it was a long tradition and I would do the same for my daughter one day. She had held my hands and spoke to me as one wife to her daughter bride. She passed on to me the secrets of a happy marriage that the priest had never mentioned during our marriage preparation classes at the church. She spoke openly of things I would need to learn to do. And often, she had said. And willingly. Her attention to detail was unnerving to me but I listened to everything. Some things she said were frightening, sounding foul, but my mother laughed and told me to wait and see.

“Your father loves me just as much as the day we married, Emma,” she said, holding my hands and looking into my eyes. “Every day I let him know I need him and want him. To be intimate with him and he does the same for me. Marriages fail when that stops. There will be times you don’t feel the need or desire. You must fight that. Embrace him. Kiss him. Fondle him. Whisper in his ear that he is your everything, and his will is yours to fulfil. Do you understand?”

I nodded, biting my lip. I think I understood. My mother laughed at my expression.

“Wake him with your mouth in the morning. Not every day. But some days or it will become routine. Pleasure him. Take his seed inside you. Swallow his love. It can be daunting. You’ll get used to it. He is your man, and his seed will be yours. Claim it. Only you can receive it through your marriage. Don’t make him regret choosing you over all others.

“And seek your own pleasure. You should never regret choosing him. He should willingly pleasure you with his mouth. Accept it and bask in it. It is your husband claiming what is his by marriage. Your womanhood will pleasure him. So trim down there, okay? Did your bridesmaid take you to the salon?”

I nodded, feeling heat rush to my face. I had been waxed. It had hurt so badly, but I had found pleasure in it in a small way which frightened me. I nodded at my mother.

“Good. And all the way between your legs?”

I nodded again, feeling more heat.

“Do you know what sodomy is?”

I nodded feeling horror.

“My priest told me before I was married that sodomy is a sin between men,” said my mother, looking hard at me.

“Yes, mamma.”

“And he added it does not concern marital relations between man and wife.”

“Mamma!” I said in shock. I thought of her and dad. “Did you and poppa…?”

“Oh, yes, Emma. Otherwise, you would have a lot more siblings rather than just you.”

“What?”

“You’ll need to watch your cycle. Avoid pregnancies. Anal sex is the best way to do that when you are ovulating.”

I stared at my mother. Questions raced through my thoughts faster than I could fully formulate and finish them.

“I enjoy it, Emma. Pleasuring your father gives me pleasure. Be patient. Try it for yourself. Push past the initial pain and I think you will be surprised. Do this for your husband. For you.”

I couldn’t speak.

“Throughout your marriage your husband should want to take you all the time, correct?”

“Y-yes.”

“Invite him to take you. Place yourself at his mercy. Let him claim that which is his by marriage.”

“Mamma!”

“And take him when you want, Emma. You are equals in this. This is a partnership. If you lust after him, take him. If he lusts after you, give yourself to him. Do this, this simple thing, and your marriage will be full of such love and last for eternity. You will join yourselves in heaven and find such blessings. I’m so happy for you, Emma. Daniel is a beautiful man. Your children will be beautiful.”

“Thank you, mamma.”

“One more thing. Are you still intact?”

I knew what she meant. My hymen had been lost as a teenager doing simple girlish things. Mine opened riding my bike. I shook my head at my mother. “No, mamma.”

“And I know you are a virgin. I am so proud of you, Emma. I saw how hard it was for you throughout college. Tomorrow night, you give him your everything. What you do with your husband in your bed, will please God. Everything your heart desires. Put your soul into it, Emma. Seize your pleasure and his, okay?”

“Mamma? Did Grammy give you this same advice?”

“No. I had to learn the hard way. I promised myself I would not let my own daughter go into her marriage bed unprepared. We have more to discuss. Are you okay with all this?”

“Yes, momma. I’m uncomfortable, but thankful.”

“Okay, we still have a lot to cover. Like how to truly pleasure your husband with your mouth. Places on his body you need to explore…”

“Explore? Like what?”

Mother chuckled. “I’m warming up to this now. Your father has always had the best sex with me. It’s okay Emma! You came from our love! Now, the penis is a strange thing at first. But a man’s pleasure also comes from his scrotum and testicles. Play with them. Lightly! So very lightly! And below them. Pay attention there. And below that, too. Do you understand where I am talking about?”

She meant his asshole. I was horrified.

“Make sure he is clean. You, too. Take the time to keep yourself fresh down there. Inside a man is a place. You’ll need to find it. Put a finger inside, find it, rub it.”

“Momma!”

“Hush, you have much the same place inside you. Teach him to find it. Your bodies will be one, once married. There is no shame. It is the beauty of sex between a married couple. Seek your pleasure and give your pleasure. There is so much on the Internet. Watch with him. Learn together.”

“Yes, momma. Do you do all these things with poppa?”

“Oh, God, yes. We’re older now and we have slowed down. But yes. We still do. I adore your father and his body.”

And it was true. The love between my parents was there for all to see. They constantly hugged and kissed. I’ve seen them mildly grope each other. I’ve heard them through the bedroom walls. I only could pray my marriage would be as close to the beauty of theirs. With my mother’s advice I think I now knew how. If I could be brave enough.

The Undefiled Bed

My memory of that first night with Daniel is seared into my soul. I subjected myself to my husband. My heart soared. My soul sang. I praised God.

I stood fully naked before my husband, and he stood naked before me. I am a beautiful woman. Many men have lusted after me. But I was only for my husband, and I stood proudly before him, exposed so willingly for the first time to his gaze. I watched his eyes devour me. He stared into my brown eyes first and I’m sure he saw the same lust as I saw in his. His gaze slowly drifted down and lingered on my breasts. My nipples were tight and painful, lifting to the sky. I saw him lick his lips and delight filled me. So far, he did not look disappointed. His eyes roamed over my flat stomach and then lower.

He stared long and hard at my perfectly waxed pussy. I had left a small, heart-shaped, tuft of my fur on my mound. My wetness trickled down my thigh and it tickled. I saw him lick his lips with his hunger and it thrilled me. I felt exposed. Wanton. But I was married, and this was my husband. A smile crossed my lips.

I was awakening to my lust and hunger, and it thrilled me. I stared equally back at my husband. We had done some things together. Fully clothed. I had let him taste me a few times. My penance for that had been the soup kitchens. And I had put him in my mouth a few times. I had never swallowed, though. I had spat it out, shame filling me, knowing I disappointed him. But I could not take his sperm inside me until we were married.

But now I stared at his slim figure. His brown skin glistened in the dim light of the room. His chest was lightly sprinkled with dark hair, and I couldn’t wait to feel my exposed breasts and nipples rubbing against it. His stomach was toned and flat. My eyes traced that delicious area below his stomach that lowered to his penis. The smooth skin demanded my mouth.

And I stared at his penis. I had stroked it before. Sucked it before. Did penance for it before. But now I could see it in all its glory. It was long and thick and stood hard and standing straight out from his body. The tip glistened with moisture. Veins ran along its length. Below it hung his heavy testicles. His manhood was displayed for me, and I knew tonight he would put it inside me and fill me. It was darker than the rest of him. The head was large and round and was even darker.

My ebony husband was panting for me. He wanted the pleasure only I could bring to him. And I wanted him in return. After my talk with my mother, I did a little research. Watched pornography that showed how to pleasure a man fully.

Another trickle of my wetness ran down my thigh and I shivered at the trickle. My husband watched it and his eyes widened.

"My husband,” I purred. “I am so wet for you. You are so hard for me.”

“Emma, you are gorgeous. Seeing you walking down the aisle in that dress? Oh my God, the angels were jealous, baby. All eyes were on you, but you only had eyes for me.”

I had stared at him the whole way down the aisle. My papa handed me over and when I had stood before Daniel, my legs threatened to fail me. My love for him in that moment had risen above everything I thought I could reach. And I could see the same reflected back at me.

“And you, my Daniel, you looked so handsome. The perfect man. My man. My husband.”

Daniel was losing himself in his lust for me. He was shaking, and so was I.

“Tonight, we will make love, Daniel. I’ve wanted this for years. I give my everything to you. Do you understand?”

He shook his head.

“We are married now. My body–all of it–is yours to pleasure yourself with. And I will pleasure myself with you. Over and over, again and again.”

“My God, Emma. You are so beautiful. Look at you! A gorgeous Italian beauty! I love you so much. I am the luckiest man in the world that you could love me as I love you.”

“And you are my ebony stud. You are so beautiful to me, Daniel. I have lusted after you since the first day we met. Do you remember?”

“How could I forget? Freshman year. Sitting in class, and in walks the woman of my dreams! A vision. So elegant and poised. I knew then I wanted to marry you.”

“You did?”

“Oh, yes. It was love at first sight. I would have waited my entire life to be with you.”

“Wait no longer, my love. I am yours. Take me. Take all of me. Whatever you desire. Anything.”

“Anything? What do you mean?”

“All my body is yours now, Daniel. And all your body is mine. I mean to take it. I want you to take me, in any way you imagine. But first, I want you to make love to me. To enter me. To cum inside me and seal our marriage in our pleasure and love. I want to lie back and feel you enter me.”

“Okay,” replied Daniel, simply. His eyes looked wild.

I moved to him, crossing the distance in two steps, and pressed myself to him. My mouth found his with hunger and I groaned at the feel of his hard cock pressing between us, reaching up past my belly button. We kissed, our tongues dancing, our hands caressing and exploring. His fingers found my wet slit and slid down along my clit and into my depths. I groaned into his mouth and reached down and took his hard, hot penis into my gentle hand. I stroked him, savouring the glorious hardness and maleness of him.

We shuffled to the bed and flopped down hard on our sides. We squirmed our way further up the bed until we found the pillows. Rose petals clung to us. All that existed was his body and mine and the pleasures we would pull from one another.

I found myself on my back, my legs spread in a delicious wanton way I was now free to enjoy. Daniel crawled up between my legs until he lay on me, his cock pressed against my wet labia, spreading them apart and rubbing deliciously on my clit. We necked hard. My tongue driving into his mouth with desire. His tongue rammed into my mouth, and we sucked on each other’s tongues, swallowing our spit, and sinking into each other’s souls.

My mind was purely on my vagina. An ache I hadn’t felt before burned down there. My pussy felt more alive than ever before. I was intimately aware of every little feeling. Wetness poured from me. I could feel the rivulets escaping me. My pussy felt like it was opening on its own. Spreading for my husband. My man. My lover. My best friend in the whole wide world.

The righteousness of it overwhelmed my emotions. I sobbed happy tears. I held Daniel’s beautiful face in my hands and pressed my lips against his plump, full, sexual lips. Lips I wanted all over my body, tracing his tongue into places I had only dreamed of. And thanks to my mother’s words–and a little bit of research–I knew what I wanted to do and taste.

Daniel shifted his hips. I felt his enormous cock head press against my opening.

“Wait!” I said, pushing on his shoulders. “I want to watch you enter me for the first time! Please!”

To be continued.

By Estcher for Literotica

April Fools Sex Pranks: part 2

Wed, 23 Nov 2022 19:56:52 -0600

April Fools Sex Pranks: part 2 -

Tied up, blindfolded, and being ridden.

By TruthwithaTwist. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

We got to the resort and it was everything we expected. It was a cheesy resort built for “romance weekends”. They did a have a “lodge restaurant” and because it was off-season, we had no problem getting our choice of cabins and were told to come down the restaurant at any time.

The guy working the front desk told us that the hot tub on the deck was usable, but suggested that we turn the heat on before dinner if we wanted to use it later. He also mentioned the romance package and asked if he could have it delivered while we dined. He said all of this unironically and without embarrassment.

We made the short walk down a path to our cabin and were thrilled with what we found. It was roomy, with an oversized king bed. It had a glossy wooden floor that led to a loveseat, and two chairs that gathered by a large gas fireplace. The bed itself was a wonder to behold. A crimson bedspread was stretched across it. 6 stark white pillows were stacked at the top of the bed with a sort of long, red ribbon holding them all together. The bed itself was made of a wooden frame with large headboard.

Just to the right of the bed, was a sliding glass door that went to the enclosed deck and the hot tub. The hot tub faced the lake but was still enclosed by the walls of the deck. There were instructions on the wall, and I got the heater for the hot tub started. As I was getting my bearings, the room behind me went dark for a split-second and suddenly was bathed in red.

“Bwah ha ha hah!” said Tara as she started playing with the light switches on a bedstand. One switch bathed the room in red. The next started a sort of “disco-light” effect. Button 3 I ~think~ was light romance…as pastel circles, and blobs sort of migrated across the walls and ceiling.

“What’s that last switchy-thing?” I asked. Tara flipped a switch and we heard a “whirring” motion. From the bottom of the bed, a panel came up revealing a bed-width mirror.

“Oh, well of course it is!” We both burst into laughter. I tackled Tara and we spilled on to the bed making out and making up for lost time. Hands started to wander. She started to rub my crotch through my jeans, I was working my way up her shirt. As we took a quick pause, I spoke up.

“Babe. This place is amazing and I want nothing more than to fuck you right now, but I’m starving!!!! Can we go eat and then we have all night to experience the Adventureland theme park in our room?”

“Absolutely”. Tara went into the bathroom to freshen up. For the first time, I reached into my back pocket and found the money Henry had given me. I counted out five crisp $100 bills and was suddenly looking forward to a great meal.

We threw our coats back on and walked over the restaurant. We gave the waiter our “dinner coupon” and placed our order. For a half-full resort, in the middle of nowhere, with a porn set for a cottage, the meal was surprisingly good. We started with a Manhattan and a Martini and thanks to the money Henry had slipped me, we splurged on an expensive bottle of wine. We ate and drank and ordered a bottle of Prosecco to take back to the room as we left the restaurant.

We stumbled back to our room and keyed back in. On the coffee table was what looked like a large rectangular box of chocolates. Upon opening it, we found out it was our romance package. There were a number of “adult’ items, all discretely packaged and wrapped inside. Like a kid on Christmas, Tara began opening each one.

“Oh! Ok. Cherry flavored lube. That’s kinda fun. Next, "Tickle her pink” arousal crème. Alrighty. We’ve got an Aqua-vibe! Some silicone cock rings. Massage Oil. And……“ Tara then held up with great pride…. "A blindfold mask!” For the next few minutes we laughed and opened everything. Slowly, though, the mood went from humorous to sexy. We started to smell, taste and feel everything in the box. Tara got the ball rolling.

“Why don’t I grab those robes, you grab the vibe & the Prosecco and I’ll meet you in the hot tub.”

I stripped down to my boxers and opened the Prosecco. Tara came out wrapped in a robe, holding some towels and handed me the other robe. We opened the sliding door and I lifted the cover off the hot tub. The cold air made the hot tub seem that much hotter, but we slowly lowered ourselves in with a number of “oohs” and “ahs” until we got comfortable,

As we soaked and sipped the Prosecco, the stress of the day melted away. Our hands kept wandering, gently touching and stroking each other under the bubbles. Slowly, we started kissing. It was sensual, and exploratory. I started cupping one of her breasts while she started stroking my cock and balls. As our arousal grew, Tara whispered, “Did you bring that vibe?”

I reached up and grabbed the small vibe off the edge of the tub. It looked like a small blue insect – 3 inches long with two antennae at one end. Once the vibe was turned on, the antennae started to shake and vibrate. I moved the toy under the water and started using them on her nipples that were just under the surface. Tara moaned slightly and let her head loll back onto the deck’s edge. I continued going back and forth between her nipples while I gently nuzzled and kissed her exposed neck. When I thought she was ready, I had the vibe work it’s way down her ribcage, eliciting a giggle. The giggling stopped when I reached her crotch. I gently pushed her legs apart and started working the vibe over her clit.. It wasn’t a toy that was meant for insertion, so I figured out a way to maintain my grip with my thumb and two fingers while inserting my ring and pinkie fingers slightly insider her. It all had the desired effect. Within a few minutes, I started to see the familiar red blotches on her shoulders and cheeks, telling me she was close. I kept up the motions until she started to come.

The waters started to splash as Tara’s hips flexed and shook. “Uh……..uh…..yes…….fuck………don’t………keep…….yes……fuck……ah”

I moved the vibe away and let Tara catch her breath. As she started to come down from her high, she said, “Let’s go inside and I can return the favor.” We got out, jumped into our robes, and went inside.

“Lay some clean towels down in front of the fire.” I followed her instructions and watched her grab the flavored lube. “Now, lay down.”

I laid on my back by the fire and kept my eyes on Tara’s amazing body. Her tits were still moist from the hot tub & her pussy swollen from her recent orgasm. As she stepped toward me, she opened the Cherry lube and began spreading it over her pussy. Once she was sufficiently covered, she took two fingers and started spreading it inside herself. She came over to me, poured a palmful of the fluid into her hand and started rubbing it up and down my erect cock. Once she was satisfied, she swung her legs over my head and pushed her cherry covered cunt on to my face. I took the hint and began licking and sucking. Tara wasted no time as she dropped down on to my cock and began licking off the lube. I was trying hard to breathe while still focusing on licking my way up and down her outer lips. As I worked my way around, I would shift up and gently start licking her clit. Every time I did, I noticed that her efforts on my cock increased. Figuring out that increasing her pleasure could increase my own – I took my tongue and drove it as far into her pussy as a I could.

It had the desired effect. Tara moaned around my cock and drove her mouth down to my balls. I could feel her tongue licking my shaft as she sucked down on my entire length. It quickly became too much for me. I grabbed down on her ass and pulled her pussy into my mouth. I latched onto her clit creating a vacuum suction while I rapidly licked it with the tip of my tongue. Tara’s hips began to shake and she moaned even more. The moaning around my cock was like a tight, vibrating sheath that sent me over the edge. I exploded into her mouth and heard a cacophony of noises. My own moans, her moans, the sound of her gulping down the milky load, our combined mouths gasping for breath…..followed by two huge contented sighs.

After getting her breath back, Tara spun herself around and settled into the crook of my arm & shoulder. We lay together, content and satiated. Then, slowly, we realized that our mouths were both covered in each other’s juices and cherry lube….and it was getting kind of gross. Tara told me to go clean off a bit. As I looked at the clock, I realized it was only 11:00, not 2am as I was expecting. I went into the bathroom, got some hot water running and soaked a washcloth in soap and the water. I washed off my face a few times until the combined stickiness was gone. Then, I got the sticky lube off my crotch as best I could. I was considering hopping in the shower real quick, when Tara started knocking on the door.

“You almost done? I gotta pee and brush my teeth.”

“Yup. Two seconds.” I brushed my teeth and let my girlfriend by with a quick smack on the ass.

I threw on my robe, poured some more Prosecco, and laid on the bed. Admittedly, between the drinks and wine at dinner, plus the Prosecco, I was still riding the line of “buzzed” and “drunk”. Add in the sudden activity and I was worn out. “You mind if I turn on the TV, babe?”

“Not at all! I could use a little break” she yelled back through the bathroom door.

I flipped around and found a cable show with an annoying couple trying to buy a 4-bedrrom house on 3 acres and a pool for $237K dollars. Tara came out, climbed onto the bed, and started playing around on her phone.

After an episode and a half, I noticed Tara’s hand was slowly snaking its way up my leg, under my robe. As she started stroking my cock, encouraging it back to life, she asked if I was ready for another round. I started to roll her over, until she put a hand on my chest.

“Nope. You’ve been amazing this weekend. For me, my family, now it’s time you get your reward. But….you have to trust me.”

“Uh…..ok.”

“Seriously babe. Trust me.” With that, she started taking my robe off my shoulders. Once I was naked, she put some pillows under my head and reached over the side of the bed. She grabbed the large ribbon that had been around the pillows and started tying my right wrist to the bed frame (Oh…..That’s why they have that ribbon….duh). She swung over me, and started tying my left wrist, so I was spread eagle with my arms. Tara then got up and went over the Romance box.

“I have to go in the bathroom and get ready. But before that, I want to get Very ready.” With that, she took a good dollup of the arousal gel and spread it over her clit and pussy lips. The reaction was instantaneous. “Oh fuck. That’s amazing. It’s heating up my pussy. Wow. I need to save this so I can get some more.”

With that, she went into the bathroom for a few minutes. Fortunately, I could still see Beth and Shawn complaining about the backsplash in the kitchen on the tv show, so I wasn’t getting anxious. A few minutes later, Tara came back out with the robe on. “Sorry! For this part, we need one more thing.”

She walked over and hit the “red light” option on the bedstand. Next, off went the tv and up went the mirror.

“Babe, I hope you’re coming right into bed. Because if you want to kill the mood….leaving me tied up to only stare at my red-bathed cock and balls….that’ll do it.”

“Don’t worry. I have a surprise for you, but I don’t want you see anything yet. With that, she put the sleep mask over my eyes. I heard her shuffling around, her suitcase unzipping and the bathroom door closing, then something strange happened. I heard the latches on the front door open and I felt a blast of cold air. As goosebumps erupted on my body, I heard the door close and a pair of high heeled shoes walking across our floor. The bathroom door closed again and I thought I heard muffled voices.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I heard the door open again and I heard Tara say, "OK. Babe, like I said, you did a lot for my entire family and here’s your surprise.” I then felt movement on the bed and someone straddling me.

I felt a pair of wet panties rubbing across my cock. The more the pussy rubbed, the more the juices seemed to flow. All of a sudden, there was a slight shift and I felt Tara’s pussy engulf my cock. It felt like Tara had pulled her panties to the side and was grinding her clit against me, while starting to ride my cock with fervor. I didn’t remember her wearing panties when we crawled into bed and was surprised she put them back on just to have blindfolded sex.

The fact that I couldn’t see her and couldn’t move my arms to reach out to her multiplied the sensations exponentially. Tara kept alternating her motions. She would slow down, then pick up speed, then she would just stop and grind for a minute. At one point, she just sat there on my cock, and I felt her long hair start to tickle my chest as she licked my nipples. Eventually she started to pick up speed, but she kept me on the edge of coming again and again. Just as I started to moan that I couldn’t take much more, the mask was ripped from my face and I saw a sight I would never forget.

My alcohol-affected eyes were still blurry, and the room bathed in red which made everything surreal– but there was Lindsay, in her yellow skirt riding me. She had on her white top from the party, unbuttoned to her navel so I could see her chest and tits perfectly. Looking down into the mirror, I could see her black heels and sure enough, pulled to the side were the purple checkered panties. She was grinding on my cock, rubbing her clit against me while she pumped back and forth. Her long brown hair was down over her face, with her head bent forward and her hands on my chest. The similarities between her and Tara was insane. I felt my cock somehow get even harder which was magnified by the fact that her pussy was absolutely on fire. My still-buzzed mind was going a million miles a second as I tried to take in the crazy scene. My brain rocketed back to the “we share everything” statement at the bar. I thought about the door opening while I was blindfolded. Was this some sisterly April Fools prank going to another level? My eyes were searching the room, looking for Tara. Was she watching? Did Lindsay somehow lock her in the bathroom? Where did she go?

Lindsey was riding me harder now, her pussy gripping my cock. She was so wet, I could feel her lubricating my cock with every thrust of her hips. The fluids were running down my balls as she kept grinding away. The heat coming out of her was like nothing I had ever felt before and I felt the cum building up in my balls. Lindsey was quiet but riding me harder when she leaned back, tossing her hair behind her and giving me an unobstructed view of her tits and tight body.

That’s when it hit me. For the first time, I was able to see the tell-tale red flush on her chest, shoulders and neck through the thin, white shirt.

“Babe…..” I moaned.

“Um…..I was wondering how long it would take you to figure it out.” Tara said, “You like? Or is this too weird?”

“Untie me, now. I’ll show you.” Tara reached up and released the loops around my wrists. Once my hands were free, they went right to her top, ripping the white blouse open. Buttons flew everywhere and I mauled her tits as she increased her speed on me. All the build-up and activity caught up to us at the same time. Just as I started to feel my cock release itself deep inside her, Tara started some deep guttural moans that ran through her body. She trembled, moaned and started thrashing on my cock.

If it weren’t for the fact we were in a remote cabin, we would have woken every neighbor around us. Tara was screaming and digging her nails into my chest. I shot stream after stream of cum into her pussy, thrusting up trying to milk the most out of both of our orgasms.

Tara collapsed on to my chest as we gathered our breath back. I started to shift so I could go to the bathroom when she stopped me.

“Hold on. I have to do one thing.”

Tara reached over to the nightstand and grabbed her phone. She wrapped her leg over my crotch and spread out her skirt a bit. She took what was left of her blouse and covered her exposed tits as she cuddled up against me. She aimed the camera into the mirror at the foot of the bed and snapped a picture.

Once she was happy with her picture, I saw her send a text to Lindsey, “Meant to tell you I borrowed some of your clothes! Next time I’m home, I’ll trade you for my black shirt back. April Fools!”

She hit send, we both used the rest room and returned to the bed. Exhausted from everything, we both collapsed into a deep sleep.

The first problem with a night of crazy, passionate sex in a romantic cabin, complete with toys, booze and bondage? Before you pass out, you don’t think of things like pulling all the blinds and curtains closed. So, after the aforementioned night, I woke up the next morning with sunlight streaming into the room from multiple openings. I looked over to see Tara sprawled face down on the other side of the bed, but somehow she had found the sleep mask we had used the night before and she was using it for the intended reason – to block out the light and get some sleep.

I stumbled naked out of the bed, and started working my way around the room, trying to close as many of the blinds as I could. Even my best efforts resulted in the room being slightly darker, but nowhere near sleep-quality darkness. That’s when I noticed the second problem with a passionate night in the cabin – the leftover scents and smells.

The room was filled with the sensory remnants of the night before, the burnt-out fireplace, cherry lubricant, lotions, stale prosecco, and of course, sex. I stumbled to the bathroom, relieved myself and wandered back to the bed. I picked up my phone to see that it was only 6:45 in the morning and flopped back into the bed, burying my head between some pillows to get some sleep.

After what felt like only a few minutes, I felt Tara stirring next to me. I groaned and lifted my head to see that it was actually 9:30. My movements alerted Tara that I was awake and I heard her husky morning voice, “Morning, babe. Did I wake you?”

“No. I was up earlier but managed to get back to sleep. Did you happen to ask what time checkout is today?”

Tara got out of bed and walked over the table where she had dropped our packet of information when we arrived. Her hair was a tousled mess, but I focused more on the movement of her ass as she walked across the room. From the bed, I could see her breasts lightly bounce as bent over to pick up the paperwork and walk back to the bed.

“Well, we missed breakfast. That ended at 9:00.” she read as she sat down, “Checkout is at 11. I’m fine if we just want to pack up and hit the road, we can grab an early lunch on the way out. Tara then looked up at our reflection in the weird bed-mirror, "But first, I need to shower. Holy fuck, I’m a mess.”

She took her hand and gently rubbed the surface of her pussy. “I’m sore, too, but that arousal crème they gave us was unbelievable. I was on fire before you even touched me last night.”

“That was crazy, babe. What made you think of the whole ‘dressing up like your sister’ thing?” I asked.

“It’s a long story and we have time in the car, I’ll tell you the whole thing.” Tara was still gently touching her pussy at this point. Not masterbating by any stretch, but just lazily running her hand over her mostly hairless crotch. “But I really do need a shower, I’m so sticky and gross right now.” She glanced over and saw that even her slight movements were making me hard.

“Tell you what. We do have a little time and since we both need to clean up anyway, why don’t you give me a minute or two and meet me in there?”

With that, Tara jumped up and started walking toward the bathroom. Her ass seemed to have a little extra swagger as she glanced over her shoulder with a smirk, knowing I was going to be close behind her. I waited a few minutes as I heard the sink run, toilet flush and the shower start. I then made my way to the bathroom where I brushed my teeth to get rid of my morning breath and started toward the shower.

Admittedly, for such a romantic room, the shower was pretty standard. It was slightly oversized, with a large glass door that faced the rest of the bathroom. Through the

April Fools Sex Pranks: part 1

Wed, 23 Nov 2022 18:22:29 -0600

April Fools Sex Pranks: part 1 -

My girlfriend and her sister play dueling practical jokes on me.

By TruthWithaTwist. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

I was midway through my first year of Graduate school, getting my MBA, when my girlfriend, Tara, asked if I wanted to drive to her family’s house a few hours away for the weekend. It was her Mother and Step-Father’s 20th wedding party and I jumped at the chance to get away from campus for a few days. The party was scheduled for April 2nd, but their actual anniversary was April 1st, which was a running joke in the family. The chance to get away sounded great and I knew that Tara and I would always find ways to entertain ourselves on long car rides.

I had started dating Tara at the beginning of the year, upon arriving at school. Tara was 3 years older than me at 28 years old. She had high cheekbones, silken brown hair and brown eyes that were expressive and sultry. She was the type of woman who could get you instantly hard with a smirk and sparkle from those eyes. Her body was amazing. Perfect tear-drop C-cup breasts, toned stomach and an ass that was just full enough to fill out the best pair of jeans. Within weeks of meeting, Tara and I became the “couple” in our friend group.

Privately, we were a typical sex-focused young couple. Fortunately, we were both fairly adventurous and were willing to stretch the limits of our sexual fun. On Halloween, we found ourselves on the roof of my apartment building having sex dressed at Batman and Catwoman. One day, we decided to slink into the small town’s only Adult Store where we bought a selection of toys to share, from handcuffs to vibrators to anal toys. After losing a bet on an Auburn/Alabama game on a Saturday, Tara found herself tied naked to the couch in my apartment for the duration of Sunday’s Bears game as I alternated between watching the game and using her as I pleased. So, the idea of a road trip, even to her parents’ house, was always a promising scenario.

We didn’t have classes on Friday so were on the road just after noon. It would take about 5 hours to drive to her house, so we filled my Jeep Cherokee with our bags and hit the road. I had met her parents before but it would be the first time I was meeting her younger sister, as well as her twin step-brother and step-sister. I was hearing that we were going to be doing some family-stuff on Saturday (visiting grandma, picking up stuff for the party, etc.) and then they were hosting an “anniversary brunch” at the house on Sunday. Since we both knew there would be no opportunity for frolicking while in her parents’ house, Tara and I planned on heading out Sunday afternoon and stopping for the night somewhere along the way since we had no classes until Monday afternoon.

Tara dozed off right out of town and started stirring after an hour or so of sleep. She was floating in and out of sleep, adjusting herself in the seat and staring out the window. I was focused on the road when I heard her mumble, “Oooh. Check that out” while looking out the window.

Looking over, I saw her gesturing toward a billboard for the regions “Most Romantic Resort”. “Hot tubs! Private Cabins! Fireplaces” were all highlighted on the billboard. There was a picture of a couple cuddling in front of a fireplace to complete the obvious vibe they were going for. Tara grabbed a pen and scribbled down the phone number on a scrap of paper she found. She then grabbed my phone and called the property.

I could only hear one side of the conversation where she was asking if there were rooms available, what types, how much and all those details. At one point, she reached into her purse, took out a credit card and read the number to the person she was talking to. After she hung up, she gave me an update.

“So cool! They have cabins for Sunday night! The rate includes a dinner package in their restaurant; and listen about our room! It’s a private cabin and it has an all-season hot tub, fireplace and she sold me on the ‘Romance Package’ whatever THAT is” she laughed.

“Well, I guess we’re staying there, huh?” I chuckled back.

“Of course! How can we pass up a cheesy romantic cabin in the hills, with dinner AND a romance package!”

“So what the hell is in the Romance Package?”

“I have no idea. The girl on the phone asked if we ‘would be interested in the Romance Package for an extra $35’ what was I gonna say? No? Besides, it’ll be fun. If we can get out of my parents’ place by 4ish on Sunday, we could get there, have dinner, grab some drinks and then have fun in our cabin!”

“But I still want to know what’s in the romance package” I pressed, again.

“Seriously? That’s your big question? I have no idea. But it’s a romantic resort we’ve never heard of, in the middle of nowhere - so I’m betting it’s some of that kind of stuff from Spencer’s Gifts. Y'know, flavored massage oil, blindfold, fake rose petals!” She started laughing at the expected lameness of the package.

“Call back. Maybe there’s a deluxe romance upgrade!” I laughed back, “See if we can get the handcuffs, vibrator, lube and a goat for $20 more!”

I got a solid punch in the arm in addition to her response, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Of course you’d want that kind of stuff. Is that what you want? Me tied up in a remote cabin with a bunch of toys and a goat?”

“I mean, besides the goat…..” I started, which earned me another punch in the arm.

We settled back into the drive and were quiet for a few more minutes. When I looked over, I saw that Tara was definitely getting “fidgety” in her seat.

'You ok?“ I asked.

“Um….I hate to actually admit this to you, but the thought of the cabin, you talking about tying me up, I’m actually getting wet.”

Tara was slowly rubbing her thighs together, trying to build some friction. Her eyes were closed and her right hand was starting to rub her breast and nipple through her shirt. The subtle motions continued until she finally exclaimed, “Fuck….now I’m horny as shit.”

She unbuckled her seatbelt and unbuttoned her jeans. Lifting her hips up off the seat, she slid her jeans and black panties down over her hips. Her pussy was now in clear view, she was mostly shaved, with a small landing strip. She settled back into her seat and thrust two of her fingers into her mouth. I watched as she got her index and middle finger nice and wet. With her eyes closed, she moved her hand down to her pussy and began to stroke up and down her lips.

A moan escaped her as her fingers danced up and down, spreading her moisture over her most intimate area. She used her other hand to spread herself open as she started to flutter a finger on her clit. I had seen her masterbate enough to know this was her favorite approach to orgasm. A finger, vibrator or tongue flicking and dancing directly on her clit while having something penetrate her was a guaranteed path to a climax for her.

As much as I wanted to reach over and touch her myself, I was struggling with a bunch of things, from watching the erotic scene next to me, to the constraints of my tightening jeans, to staying focused on the road. As I tried to watch her without getting us killed, I simply asked, “What are thinking about, babe?”

“I just want to cum. I want you buried inside me, fucking me. I want you to bend me over, take me and fuck me hard.” I could tell Tara was getting close to coming, because she had this habit of getting red and flushed all across her chest when she came. When orgasms were especially intense, the splotches would extend all up her neck and into her cheeks. It was the tell-tale sign of a major Tara orgasm.

Her hand picked up speed as I tried to push her over the edge. “Yeah? You looking forward to a good fuck? But what about your ass? You know how much I love your ass. Just think, when we have our cabin, I’ll get my dick nice and wet in your pussy… I’ll grab your ankles push them back so you are spread wide open.”

Her hand was a blur at this point, she had worked two fingers from her other hand into her pussy while she continued the assault on her clit. “Uh….yeah….tell me….make me cum” she moaned.

“I’ll work that hard, lubed cock into your ass. Not thrusting yet. Just slowly pressing harder as I slide further into your hole.”

“More…. almost there.”

I reached down and adjusted my cock which was now uncomfortably wedged in some terrible trifecta of boxers, denim and seatbelt. I told her the rest of my plan.

“I could reach over, pick up the vibrator and push it into your pussy, babe. When I turn it on, you’ll feel me slamming into your ass, while the vibrator fills your pussy up. You’ll feel me through the walls of your pussy pressing up against the toy, making us into one big vibe. Buzzing, thrusting, filling you up until you explode your hot juices all over the….”

“Argh; Uhg; Uhg”. Tara’s entire body clenched, spasmed, and shook for a moment. Her fingers kept dancing on her clit, but were slowing down as she recaptured her breath. She reached out and started to grab her breast before realizing that her hand was still covered in fluids. She flopped back in her seat, her chest and neck covered in bright red splotches, her legs still spread, gasping for air.

For a minute, she looked like she had passed out, but slowly she got her breath and pulse back to normal. She said, “Fuck, dude. I’m going to show up at my parents house reeking of sex. We have to stop somewhere so I can clean up.”

“Really? Not my fault. You started it with the whole hot tub, romance package thing. Consider this punishment for banishing me to the guest room for next 2 nights.”

“I’m serious. Pull over when we can so I can get cleaned up.” She then added with a smirk, “And enjoy those blue balls that are gonna kick in REAL soon, smart ass. Maybe that will be my April Fools gift to you! Keep you hard all weekend, but not let you have any sort of release?”

We did end up stopping at a rest plaza so Tara could get herself together. I stretched out for the last hour of the drive, trying to ignore the growing discomfort from my lack of personal release and hoping that Tara’s didn’t go through with her idea of a “fun” April Fools joke.

When we finally pulled into the house, it was your typical suburban home. The family all came out to greet us. Henry and Lois, Tara’s parents were the first ones out. They looked like two, normal American parents. Henry had a salt and pepper beard, and was a bit taller and heavier than me. Lois had a definite resemblance to Tara, but was shorter, stouter and jovial. In all honesty, I could 100% see them both using some white hair spray, padding and putting on costumes and being Mr. & Mrs. Claus at the local church or Christmas parade. I had met them before, so I was greeted with hugs and warm welcomes.

Next up were Tara’s much younger twin half-siblings, Josh and Denise. They looked to be at the start of their awkward teenage years with graphic t-shirts and overall disinterested looks on their faces. We worked our way into the house with our bags.

Lois started, “Tara, your room is all set. Jason, we have a guest room upstairs next to Lindsay’s room for you.”

That’s when we heard a voice from upstairs. “Hey bee otch. What’s up?” I looked up and did a double take. I had seen pictures of Tara’s younger sister Lindsay, but they were older pictures – from family vacations at Disney and the like. The young woman coming down the stairs instantly let me know what Tara looked like 8 years earlier. They could have been twins. Same hair, same eyes, same smile. Worse for me, she had the same body as Tara – just a bit firmer and younger. I could tell because Lindsay was dressed in a half-shirt showing her school logo and a pair of gray sweats emblazoned with PINK down the leg.

Tara and Linsday hugged, while Lois hung her head with a voice only a mother can generate, “Really Lindsay? You couldn’t have put on something other than what you sleep in to greet them?”

“I did! I put on a bra!” laughed Lindsay as she purposely jumped up and down a bit.

“Lindsay! Go get changed! We’re going to Alfredo’s for dinner. Now!” Henry’s voice had that “father” tone that left no room for debate. We all separated to our rooms. Tara’s was at the top of the stairs, then the twins rooms on each side of the hallway, then a bathroom, then Lindsay’s whose room was next to mine in the corner. Henry & Lois had their room on the main floor down the hall from the kitchen where we walked in.

We all went to dinner, got home, watched TV, and people slowly began drifting off to their rooms. I was tired from driving, so I went up and got settled in. I could hear people shuffling around as read a book in bed. In the room next door, I could hear Tara and Lindsey chatting and laughing as I dozed off.

Saturday came and it was a cool, damp day. We all came down for breakfast and Tara and I maintained that awkward, “showing affection, but not being gross or inappropriate” you do around parents. We all had our list of errands to do that day. I was picking up booze for the party, plus some tables and linens since I had an SUV. Henry and Josh helped with some of it and we made multiple trips back and forth to stores all day long. Tara helped Lois pick up her dress and went to visit her grandma.

For dinner, pizza and salads were ordered for the house and we all just went over the plan for the next day. Caterers were coming at 10 with the food, they were going to prep, cook and serve for when the party started at noon. Tara and Lindsay were going to help Lois get ready (they were renewing their vows to start the festivities) while Josh & Denise were told to get dressed and keep the house neat.

After dinner, Tara asked if I wanted to go to the local pub. It was your typical local bar with beers, basic pub food and all locals.

“Can I come too?” said Lindsay.

There were some strange looks around the table until Lois said, “I think you have to be 21 on weekends.”

“Not if you sit at a table at the bar, not the bar, itself. There are kids in there all the time.” Rebutted Lindsay. “Besides, if I go, I can drive home so you two can drink!”

Tara jumped in, “Mom. Don’t worry about it – I never get to see my sister, she can come along. Let’s all get changed and go in 30.” With that, we cleaned up, freshened up, and went out to my car.

As soon as we got in the car, the sisters starting giggling. Tara turned and looked at her sister in the back seat, “Ok to eat at the table. You are unreal!”

“It’s true….. technically!” Lindsay retorted.

“OK, but since you’re visiting from Connecticut, wouldn’t you rather sit at the bar with the grown ups?” They then degenerated into torrents of laughter.

“Ok”, I asked. “What am I missing?”

Tara finally smartened me up, “Linds has a fake ID. Literally everyone knows about it ….. except Dad. Since he serves on the college faculty, we don’t want him to have to lie, so we keep it from him. But yeah literally everyone else knows. Mom, me, the bartenders, everyone knows that "Becky” here just turned 20.“

Lindsay chimed in with, "I mean, I literally went to school with half the people that work there. The fact that they all know to call me Becky is Ah-mah-zing!”

The bar was less than 10 minutes away, so we got there quickly and settled in at the bar. The whole night was a ton of fun. Tara and Lindsay…er…Becky….knew everyone. We drank Rolling Rock by the bucketful. Every time you turned around, someone else was buying a bucket of beers to share or a round of shots.

The girls and I had migrated to a high-top table in the corner and the booze was definitely kicking in. When I ordered a couple of cokes in a row, Lindsay delicately asked, “Dude. What the fuck?”

“Well, I figured you’re not going to be in any shape to drive, so I figured I better stop now.”

“HA! Why do you think we came up with that plan? It’s only a 10 minute walk home if we cut through the high school grounds. We’re gonna tell Dad that I didn’t realize you drive a stick shift and I couldn’t drive. Then, you can come and get the car in the morning!”

The girls laughed, high-fived, and the night continued.

I had some serious body weight on the sisters, but Man….could they put away the booze. Tara got up to use the restroom, which left me and Linsday alone. After a minute, she looked me in they eye, gave me a strangely-familiar sultry smile that I had seen from her sister and asked, “Like the shirt?”

I looked at the shirt, with the clueless look only a guy can give and answered, “Yes, it looks great on you.” In truth, it was a nice top. It was a black and grey top that had a modern pattern throughout. The sleeves were different in that from the shoulders to the cuffs, there were criss-crossed pieces of fabric that left a lot of skin exposed. It wasn’t really form-fitting, but Lindsey’s pert breasts were definitely noticeable in it.

“I actually got it from Tara. She left it behind after Christmas break and I snuck in and stole it from her. I just love the pattern. I think the sleeves are so cool.” Then, with her sister’s trademark smirk she added, “ I really like the extra…. pattern and …. texture on the front.”

Oh shit. I felt like one of those sitcoms where the main characters past flashes by in a quick montage … and I remembered the shirt.

For my birthday in December, Tara and I went to New York City for the weekend. We went to a club and she wore that exact top with a pair of skintight leather pants and heels. We had been drinking and flirting and teasing all night long. BY the time we got back to the hotel, we fell into the elevator and started making out intensely. As we worked our tongues down each other’s throats, I started unbuckling her belt. When I grabbed her wrists, she prepared herself for me to start undoing her pants and going after her pussy. Instead, I undid the belt halfway, threaded it through the webbing of her shirt cuffs and rethreaded it through the belt loops.
Suddenly, she was like a prisoner with her hands cuffed behind her back. I continued to maul her mouth with mine until we heard the 'ding’ of our floor. I walked her in front of me, with her hands bound until we got to our door. I fumbled out our key card and opened the door to our room. I pushed her inside and locked the door behind us.
One of the most attractive things about Tara is that she would never back down. As I led her into the room, she got sharp sarcastic tone to her voice and said, “Nice, smart guy. But you can’t get my pants down like this, can you?”
“Who said I wanted what’s in your pants?” I then pushed her so her legs hit the end of the bed. Before she could fall backwards…. I pushed her down and slid her forward onto her knees. She got the sexiest smile as I unbuckled my pants, dropped my boxers and simply said, “Suck.”
Tara opened her mouth and enveloped my cock. She didn’t start with anything delicate like licking and kissing, it was straight-up sucking. I’m average in the dick size department, so she took me in deep, getting all the way to my balls with ease, she came back and kept going with increasing suction. As I started to groan in pleasure, she began kissing the sides of my shaft until she got down to my balls. She took one, then, the other and licked and sucked on them. Then, it was back to my cock. She went back and forth, making it feel as good as any pussy I had ever been in. She backed off for a minute with I still remember as one of the sexiest sentences ever.
“Either untie my hands so I can do this right, or grab me and fuck my face.”
I chose the latter. I grabbed two fistfuls of her hair and started aggressively fucking her mouth and throat. To her credit, Tara kept up the suction and using her tongue as best she could while being forced on to my cock. Her eyes were watering a bit and as the pressure built, her saliva was dripping off her chin to the hotel carpet. Finally, when I hit my limit, I started to explode. The first two bursts went down her throat, but then I shocked her again. I pulled my cock from her mouth and let the remaining cum coat her face, mouth and the top of her shirt. When we finally finished, she said, “You fucker. This was a new shirt. But, with the grey pattern, I may just leave it like this. Everyone will think it’s part of the shirt, but you and I know I’m wearing your cum around my neck like

Babysitter with Benefits: Conspiring Further

Wed, 23 Nov 2022 16:50:23 -0600

Babysitter with Benefits: Conspiring Further -
Single dad and son’s babysitter keep exploring each other. (erotic coupling)
By Norweger. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
My next door neighbour Henning, father of Ella, my go-to babysitter if I had to run some errands - and, incidentally, since last week, also my mistress - leaned on the fence separating our back yards, friendly grin on his face.
I left the lawnmower to its own devices and strolled over to him; Henning was a genuinely nice guy, and seeing as he wasn’t wielding a shotgun while yelling his lungs out at me, he was likely blissfully unaware of what Ella and I had spent an intense hour doing together a few days earlier.
“Listen, bud - I just wanted to thank you for what you did for Ella here the other day,” he began as I drew near. I felt like someone had just released half a gallon of liquid nitrogen in my guts; WHAT? I hoped I still seemed rather calm outwardly, because my innards were in instant, violent turmoil.
“I’ve no idea what you said to her, but when she went over to you guys to say goodnight to Thomas, she was in a rather foul mood - to the extent her mother suggested she leave it until next day, when she hopefully was in a better mood - some quarrel with her on-and-off-boyfriend, from what I gathered; but when she came back? All smiles, happy as can be and a joy to have in the house.”
“Oh, that was nothing,” I half spoke, half squeaked, still trying to recover as the liquid nitrogen evaporated and released the violent grip on my stomach. “I just told her that being eighteen is a temporary state, and that she’ll soon find that she gets all sorts of new and interesting things to worry about as she grows older.”
He shook his head, laughing. “Now, ain’t that the truth. Well, it worked, at any rate. Speaking of eighteen year olds, would you mind keeping an eye on our house this weekend? The missus and I are going to see her brother in Trondheim, and while Ella is the calm type. You know, suddenly someone crashes the party or whatever and things get out of hand. Are you okay with me telling her she can call you or come over if she needs any help?”
My eagerness to be of service ought to have surprised him, but he didn’t bat an eyelid. Of course I’d be happy to help in any way I could, no worries - while the violent, cold pit which had recently been my guts was now filled with butterflies. Henning and Tove were going away for the weekend. Ella would be home alone. With any luck, she’d stay over - at the very least, we’d have several hours to wear each other out by enjoying that most enjoyable of pastimes.
I could get used to the idea.
Returning to the lawnmower, I found it had been,sigh, unable to get the job finished on its own, so I coaxed it back to work and got the job over with while sporting a massive erection daydreaming about what the weekend might have to offer. Someday soon, I had to get myself a robot lawnmower.
Later that afternoon, just as junior and I were about to sit down for dinner - pancakes, at Thomas’ most persuasive request - there was a soft knock on the porch door; Ella stood outside, smiling and waving, and Thomas ran, screaming with joy, to the door to let her in. “Come, we’re having pancakes! Would you like some, Ella? You want some, don’t you! Come! Daddy just put one on my plate! Come!”
Giggling at his enthusiasm, Ella strolled into the kitchen, returning with a plate and cutlery, then sitting down next to my kid and reaching for a pancake. Having dinner guests this housewarm certainly wasn’t much trouble!
I’d been a little worried that I’d be acting differently when Ella was around after we’d had sex, but luckily, it turned out she was still the very same Ella she’d always been, adoring my son and being excellent company for the both of us, making it easy going to be around her, despite me knowing very well what she looked like in the nude. I had, gratefully, found that I was able to be around her without constantly undressing her in my mind. Thank God.
“Thomas,” she began as she poured a little sugar on her pancake before rolling it up. “This weekend, I’ve got no plans at all, so I was wondering if I could perhaps borrow you for a few hours? We could go to the kindergarten playground, for instance, if it is OK with your dad?”
He nodded vigorously. ‘Yes! Yes!’ Ella glanced over at me. I nodded. “That would be perfect, I need to tinker a little with the car sometime soon, so if you keep him entertained for an hour or three, I can get it done then…”
Ella smiled. “That’s settled, then. Maybe I could even borrow your dad a little, too, huh?” He nodded again, eagerly. I instantly felt I went beet red; Ella noticed and threw me a quick, impish smile before putting a finger to her lips while Thomas resumed his attack on the pancake remains on his plate, indicating she wouldn’t pursue the matter further.
With dinner taken care of - it never ceased to amaze me how a 35-pound kid could seemingly eat 10% of his body weight in a single meal, at least if that meal was pancakes. Thomas went outside to play lawn croquet with himself until us grown-ups had done the dishes. He’d made us promise we’d play him a round as soon as we were done, and if past experience was anything to go by, we’d be on the hook until we’d played a couple of games.
“Mom and dad are going away this weekend, by the way!” Ella beamed as she put away the plates. “I trust you won’t mind if I happen to drop by, would you?”
“Not at all. Your father has already recruited me to be on red alert in case your wild home alone party gets a bit out of hand, your water mains bursts, a meteor strikes or any other emergency.”
She rolled her eyes and sighed, then giggled as she hoisted herself onto the countertop. “That’s so him. I’ve never, like, ever; had more than two or three friends, tops, visiting at a time, yet he’s been convinced ever since I was 13 or something that the first home alone-house wreaking has been just around the corner. You know, of the ‘driving a scooter indoors, turning the upstairs bathroom into a swimming pool’ variety.”
She paused for an instant, turning to look out the window over the sink. “Which I almost take as an insult, seeing as I’ve been about as much trouble as a nun would’ve been. I never really got around to any teenage rebellion!” She giggled. “The only un-nunesque activity I engage in is sleeping with our twice-my-age neighbour. Of which, I might add, my father’s got no clue.”
I flushed deep red again, but joined her in laughing at her comment. “That you do. By the way, and please do not take this as a criticism, but; I really do think it would be best if you, or I, for that matter, didn’t drop any hints like during dinner, no matter how opaque they may be. I’m not concerned that Thomas will understand what’s being implied, rather that he’d notice me acting funny or something; it’s amazing how good he is at sensing my mood.”
She nodded in agreement, suddenly serious. “The thought struck me, just as I’d said it,” she said softly. Easing herself off the countertop, then pouring herself a glass of water, she turned to face me. “But seeing as we’re on the topic - what… Well, what should we do if, God forbid, he’s suddenly standing in the doorway, wondering what we’re doing with each other?”
I sighed, glancing out at the free-form lawn croquet game being conducted in between our two apple trees. “I’ve been thinking of that, too. I even considered whether we had better only, ah, do it while he’s out of the house, be it in kindergarten, at his grandparents.”
Ella nodded, then filled in the conclusion I’d arrived at, too; “but him being away would kind make it odd that I was hanging around here, wouldn’t it?”
“Exactly.” I provided my best imitation of a gallic shrug, then turning on the stove to prepare a couple of espressos before heading out. “I eventually convinced myself it’d be safe in the evenings, though. He sleeps like a rock, hell, the other day one of our smoke detectors threw a fit in the middle of the night, and once I’d killed it I went to his room to soothe him, only to find him asleep.”
I paused while grinding the coffee; one of the luxuries I indulged in was good coffee, so a grinder which wouldn’t look out of place at a barista’s had a prominent place on the countertop, but it sounded almost like a jet during its takeoff run while it did its thing, so any conversation was futile.
Luckily, it did its thing quickly. “Also, he hardly ever wakes up during the night. Since Tania left, well, since he’d gotten used to it just being the two of us. It has only been one single time he’s come to my room in the night, and fifteen seconds later, he proceeded to puke all over the bed, poor thing.”
I tamped the coffee, assembled the kettle and put it on the stove. “Anyway, this is just a long-winded way of saying that once he’s asleep, he’s lost to this world, at least as long as he’s feeling well. I’d put the odds at his surprising us somewhere between nil and zilch.”
I smiled briefly as a memory from a couple of years ago popped into my mind. “Besides, I think he’s still so young he wouldn’t connect the dots, panic or anything. He walked in on me and Tania once while we were at it, and his only concern was that we had to make room for him so that he could sleep there. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t wonder why 'auntie’ Ella slept here, of course; but I don’t think we’d traumatize him or anything. The big question, of course, is whether he’d mention it to anyone, and if he did, whether they’d take him at his word or just put it down to some misinterpretation.”
Ella gazed out the window again; judging from the muffled cries of joy coming in from the outside, the croquet game was going rather well. Just as I poured her a cup, she shrugged. “Let’s just leave it at that, shall we? That is, not make it an issue until, well, it is one?”
I nodded. “I think; Well, yes. Let’s not overthink it. In the unlikely event he does see us, I think we’ll need to handle it on the fly, it sure will depend on how he reacts.”
I didn’t tell her, but I had pondered the subject time and time again. After but a single tryst, I found myself wanting more. Much more. Consequences be damned. I’d save my regrets for when, well, if the shit ever hit the fan and we were outed, hoping that day would never come.
Sipping the strong, black coffee, I gazed at the kid we were about to join in a minute, smiling. “He’s still young enough that he probably, hopefully, even hasn’t given much thought to the fact that there are some things you’d better not tell others about.”
I glanced over at her, throwing her a quick smile before returning my attention to Thomas outside, then continued.
“I don’t think he could be counted on, well, make that 'be expected to’, he’s simply too young for it to be fair to expect him to keep a secret. He’d probably try if I asked him to, but of course, if one of the other kids mention he walked in on his parents the other night, and they were doing things together, on the bed. Well, he’d be as likely as not to say 'Oh, daddy and Ella does that, too!’ We’ll just have to hope it never happens.”
Ella raised the tiny cup in a mock toast. “Here’s to that.” She giggled. “Lover.”
Putting the cup down, she wasted no time heading for the door, easing her feet into her flipflops and heading down to challenge Thomas. After putting the cups in the sink and cleaning out the espresso kettle, I, too, joined them.
Being a bit late to the party, I took a moment to enjoy the sight - while Ella had a number of talents, the one I probably admired most was her almost uncanny ability to connect with children; I still caught myself occasionally treating any kid, not just my own, like a small adult, becoming frustrated when they didn’t act like reasonable adults, for instance if new rules were both created and dismissed with wild abandon during a game.
Ella? She leaped around the lawn, following Thomas as best she could as they both knocked their croquet balls around what passed for my garden in a seemingly random fashion, amid hoots and cries of laughter.
I shook my head, realizing in some ways, perhaps even in many, she probably would make for a better parent than I ever did, before brushing the thought aside. It did sting a little, though.
Just then, Thomas veered off behind a blackcurrant bush, deciding it was a wonderful place to hide. Ella knocked her ball towards me, then came strolling over, glancing over at the giggling blackcurrant bush. “I wonder where Thomas went?” she said aloud before lowering her voice as she approached me.
“On the sleeping here topic,” she began, smiling faintly as if the mere mention made her relive the first time she did so. It sure made me relive some highlights. I strained to shed the thought and pay attention to what she was saying instead. “I can probably improve our odds a little, should he ever mention anywhere that he saw me in bed or something. I occasionally doze off on the sofa. I say I am tired after a long day of school and part-time work, my parents suggest maybe I spend too much time in front of my Macbook in the evenings.”
I returned her gaze, quizzically, but with a fair idea where she was heading. “I’ll just mention once or twice that I did that at your place, too; dozing off while trying to get Thomas to sleep, on the sofa while just sitting there, waiting to see if he was really asleep; something like that. With any luck, if he says he saw me in bed, lying, sleeping whatever at your place, then at least my parents ought to, well, believe that’s what he means.”
She giggled, throwing me another rather impish smile. “Besides, I am sure they’d much rather believe that’s what he meant, that I fell asleep while putting him to bed, rather than assuming their precious only daughter was having her pussy eaten out by Thomas’ dad or something. I so expect you to do that to me again sometime soon, by the way.”
With that, she turned away and started looking for Thomas, expertly avoiding the bush he was hiding behind while thoroughly exploring every other part of the garden lot.
I? I was left dumbfounded, painfully erect, before gathering myself and joining in on the search for the mysteriously disappeared four-year old.
My mind was racing, though. I desperately hoped we’d never have to put any deception plan into play.
I had done the rounds with myself and whatever moral compass I might possess and come to the conclusion that our; Well, I couldn’t yet bring myself to call it a relationship, perhaps rather a mutual understanding at this point, that our mutual understanding was fully above board, despite the age difference. Not only was Ella of legal age, it had also been quite clear that she’d thought this over, and she didn’t appear to have any secret crush on me which made sex seem a price she’d be willing to pay to be near me, I had to stifle a laugh at the thought- she’d entered into this as a consenting adult, albeit a young one and as long as we both found it enjoyable, what did the world need to care?
Except, of course, the world would care. With all sorts of possible consequences, if not legal ones. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to do the sensible thing, gently suggesting to Ella that perhaps we’d better leave well enough alone and end our understanding before it became the talk of the town. I had already become way too thrilled at the promise of the pleasure to be had, as long as we kept this up. I sighed, then 'accidentally’ found Thomas just as he was about to lose interest in the hiding game.
The ensuing round of croquet was by no means the best I’d ever played, but it sure was the funniest, with both Ella, Thomas and I in a brilliant mood. I even, much to my relief and surprise, found that the fun had driven my mind from the thought of eating Ella out, causing my hard-on to subside.
As afternoon turned to evening, we eventually had to move back indoors; it was a tired, but content little kid who had a couple of slices of bread with jam for supper, then had his favourite babysitter bar none put him to bed.
I considered myself very lucky; while the two of us generally had a very good time together, I was grateful he got to spend a little time with other grown-ups. Particularly Ella; one thing, of course, being that he adored the hell out of her, but additionally, she; I remembered her words on the porch last week, that she felt he was a little hers, too, in a way. She was right. She was the closest he came to a mother figure for the time being, which, undoubtedly, was part of the reason he adored her so. Not that the circumstances lessened Ella’s part in him being so fond of her, mind. I smiled as the soft murmur of voices from his bedroom became more and more muffled as he gave up his quest to stay awake.
Another few minutes later, just as the sun dipped below the horizon at a quarter past eight, Ella returned to the living room. “Deed done”, she smiled. “Now that was one tired, happy camper.”
I smiled. “No wonder, that - getting up at oh six early to get to kindergarten before I head for work, then charging his batteries on a metric shitload of pancakes before spending hours playing lawn croquet cum hide-and-seek cum Calvinball, before being put to bed by a beautiful redhead. What’s not to like?”
Ella giggled and sat down at the far end of the sofa, sending me a sly smile. “Funny you should mention that.” Stretching out, she purred like a cat most pleased with itself. “This beautiful redhead wonders when you’re going to do that thing with your tongue to her again.”
I swallowed. I’d hoped she might suggest we do a repeat performance tonight. I nodded, eagerly. “Will 'now’ fit said beautiful redhead’s schedule?” I asked, quite proud to keep a steady voice as seemingly all the blood left my head, racing for my loins, leaving me feeling light-headed in the process.
Winking, Ella threw a quick glance around her to make sure the curtains were drawn, then undid the button and started wiggling out of her jeans. “How soon is now?” she giggled, making me smile at the Smiths reference; I knew her mother, Elin, was quite passionate about The Smiths. Apparently, some of her good taste had rubbed off on her daughter, too.
Seconds later, Ella sat there, still with her black tee on, but naked from the waist down. She didn’t need to beckon me to her; I eagerly got up, crossed the space between us in two long strides and knelt between her legs, gently pushing them apart, her thick, full tuft of red hair right in front of me. I glanced up at her, meeting her quite expectant gaze.
“Please do it,” she said in a quiet voice. “Ever since last time, I;” She smiled faintly, as if in disbelief. “Ever since last time, I haven’t; Well, masturbating still feels good, doubly so if I do it while reliving our first time, but as I now know how good this can be.”
I smiled and winked at her, fully understanding the feeling; I, too, had been reminded quite forcefully how incredible it felt to have passionate sex with someone beside myself. I dived in, a squeal of delight coming from Ella as my tongue probed her, forcing her pubic hair aside in search of that holiest of holies between her thighs.
I struck gold. Ella eagerly edged herself forward, thrusting her sex into my face. Not that I complained, mind.
I loved going down on a woman. The arousing scent, being so close to the action, the immediate feedback, what was there not to like? Playfully probing her with my tongue, I felt her place her hand over the back of my head, pushing me closer.
Okay. Have it your way, I thought. Burying my face in her, pressing my nose against her clit, I pushed my tongue deeper, lapping up her juices. She whimpered and pushed me closer still; I picked up the pace a little, then did my best to come up for air. I licked my index finger, then dove back in, letting my tongue tickle her clit hood as my index finger slid inside her, getting a guttural moan from above for my trouble; Ella had placed her legs over my back, thighs keeping my head in a vise grip just where she wanted it to be. I slowly started fingering her while closing my lips over her clit, gently, very gently sucking, then just holding still. Ella impatiently bucked towards my face.
The tip of my tongue darted to her now exposed clit. Squeals of delight. I paused. Muffled words from far, far away, they sounded like “Stop being such a fucking tease!” Okay. I returned my attention to her most sensitive spot. New squeals, and the hand at the back of my head tugged at my hair, pulling me closer. I fingered her faster, deeper. She was so snug, so incredibly snug. How I lo

Babysitter With Benefits: part 1

Wed, 23 Nov 2022 15:28:09 -0600

Babysitter With Benefits: part 1 -
Babysitter has a little something to offer the kid’s dad, too. (erotic coupling)
By Norweger. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Life, all things considered, wasn’t too bad.
It was a brilliant early September indian summer evening, my son had just fallen asleep, and I sat on the porch, enjoying an all too rare beer while lazily watching the sun head for the horizon. Not that I was paying much attention, I had a fairly good idea how it would end.
As an added bonus, the occasion was ripe for trying out the new outdoor speakers I had installed earlier in the week, having figured we tended to head for the porch whenever the weather was cooperating, we might as well be able to listen to music while we were at it.
George Thorogood blared from the speakers, next to ZZ Top and Motörhead, the best music in the world to have a beer to.
I heard a faint, metallic squeal which told me someone had opened the porch gate just around the corner; nine times out of ten, that would be Ella, the next door neighbour’s daughter, having just turned eighteen, she was my son’s favourite babysitter, heck, on occasion I believed she was Thomas’ favourite person, period. His dad included!
Bingo. Ella strode into view, all 5'11" of that lanky teenager which filled in for Thomas’ mom, Ella loved kids in general and Thomas in particular, and after I’d become a single dad…
I really felt I stood out in the statistics, my ex had voluntarily moved abroad after we split, and hadn’t even applied for custody. It almost seemed as if she considered me and Thomas, a mistake she’d rather put behind her and forget about.
I could understand the forgetting about me part, but Thomas? Nah, that was beyond belief. Not that I was ungrateful, to put it that way, Thomas and I had become a small, happy family after a rather tumultuous start.
“Good evening. Is… Is Thomas asleep?” she asked, a bit hesitantly.
I nodded. “Passed out fifteen minutes ago, having locked the kamikaze bunny in a death grip.”
She giggled. “Still the favourite, huh?”
“Uh huh. Between the two of you, you and the bunny have got him pretty much sorted, I think.”
She reddened slightly while sporting a sheepish grin. “It does feel a little weird, but I somehow feel like he’s a little bit ‘mine’ too. I hope that’s not sounding too creepy?”
I laughed. “No worries, I believe he thinks of it pretty much the same way, he’s been asking on occasion lately whether Ella is his mom now.”
Ella went from wearing a tad of pink to beet red. “Really?!? Wow, do remind me to thank him tomorrow!”
“Just dropping by to see him will be enough, he can’t get enough of having you around, you know.”
“ Sure feels like getting a lot for nothing, as far as I’m concerned. I’m almost worried at times that I am growing too attached to him, him being such a wonderful kid.” She sighed just as George on the stereo started a blistering rendition of ‘Bad to the bone’. “Oh, would you be so kind and turn it up a little? This music is meant to be played loud, after all!” Giggle.
I lazily reached for the remote, agreeing that The Destroyers were at their best when you could feel the groove in your guts, though I wouldn’t want to either wake up Thomas or (less of a concern) annoy the neighbours. As the old saying goes; “I don’t listen to The Destroyers very often, but when I do, my neighbours do, too!”
Ella sat back with a contented look on her face before turning to me. “Now, there’s something I need to ask you, by the way; and please, do hear me out, OK, even if it may sound a bit outlandish at first?”
I nodded. “Shoot.”
“I had sex last week. First time. For real.” Well, if it was my attention she was after, she’d succeeded. But what the…
I held back. She’d explicitly asked me to hear her out, and she wasn’t done yet. She drew a deep breath, then commenced in a strained voice. “It sucked. Like hell. Stupid fuck jumped me, barely made it inside before shooting his load not a single bloody thrust, even. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he also bragged to another couple of guys in class, and, boys being boys, at least three of them claimed they, too, had fucked me, so after having had what passes for cock in me for two seconds, I am now the school designated whore and pariah. Fuck. Fuck!”
I shook my head slowly, feeling extremely grateful my teens were long since past. What a waste, I figured, thankfully having the brains not to say it aloud; Ella was as nice as they came, and it was a shame if THIS was the memory she’d have of her first time for the rest of her days.
She paused and looked at me, seemingly expectant. I tried to compose a suitable response. “Well, what to say… It’s a shame it sucked that bad, but if there’s any comfort to be had knowing that, I believe your experience is quite typical.”
Remembering my first time, a faint smile flashed across my face. “I managed to hold back a little longer; more like ten seconds, I guess; but it was hardly an earth-shattering experience for the girl I was with. Luckily, it does tend to get better after a while.”
I was feeling rather uncomfortable during our conversation; I could -almost- have been her father, and talking to her about sex seemed quite inappropriate; then again, perhaps precisely as I could have been her father, it was easier to talk to me about this? Someone who’d been there, done that, wasn’t family, wouldn’t tell on her?
She kept on. “So, that’s that, I guess; luckily a lovely little silicone thing from Kondomeriet did away with my virginity almost two years ago. Come to think of it, it was a much better fuck than the real deal, but I digress.”
I blushed. Like hell. Surely it didn’t come as; well, shouldn’t come as; a surprise that Ella had been doing a little self exploration, but still… Her sharing it with me did seem quite inappropriate. She wasn’t done, though.
“And, here comes the bit I need you to keep quiet about and consider quite seriously before replying. I want you to have sex with me. Properly.”
I gasped. My God, I hadn’t seen that one coming. Again she fixated me with her radiant, green eyes, expectant. I swallowed. Made a croaking noise. Swallowed again. She didn’t flinch. Fuck. God knows part of me wanted to simply reply “Of course!” and carry her off to my bedroom. I glanced over at her. She was too cute for words as she sat there, eyeing me, awaiting an answer. Her long, reddish hair framed the slightly narrow face, the huge, green eyes, the ruler-straight ridge of her nose, her full lips… Fuck. I could already feel the little devil on my one shoulder winning the argument with the angel on my other.
It took all I had of strength to meet her expectant gaze. I sighed - deeply - and cursed inwardly at my cock, already springing to attention to the pleasures which were up for grabs, should I decide to throw caution to the wind. “Ah, uhm, Ella, I, ah… I… Fuck, I could’ve been your father! Well, almost, at any rate…”
She didn’t say anything; she just kept her gaze on me. She’d no intent of letting me off the hook easily, it seemed. “Ella, I… Well, I totally get how it sucked, especially with the drama afterwards, but… I might be thick, but I can’t see anything getting better by me, well, as you said, having sex with you?”
She sighed. “For fuck’s sake, just THINK! The sex, for one, would probably be better. Not that it would take that much of an effort on your part. And don’t you give me that “I could have been your father” sermon. I’m grown enough to want; hell, to NEED; sex. You’re most definitely grown enough, and, seeing as you’re a single father, I really cannot see that much of it coming your way, huh? And here it comes, served on a silver platter!
I’ve carte blanche to drop by here whenever I feel like it and stay a couple of hours without anybody, least of all my parents, worrying. After Thomas has fallen asleep, not even an earthquake could wake him! He sleeps, we sleep together, I shower and go back home. What’s not to like?“
I must have looked rather doubting. Well, perhaps 'disbelieving’ fit the bill better, as she kept trying to convince me, as if I needed any prodding.
"It’s not like I’m dying to try any more guys my age, and waiting for them to gain experience? Hell, no! Fuck knows how long that’s gonna be, anyway. And you… Well, as I said; I can be here whenever I want without anyone questioning it, and, like, I don’t think you’re very likely to brag that you’re fucking the neighbour’s teenage daughter, are you?”
The little devil stabbed its pitchfork clean through the angel, ending the discussion. Ella didn’t notice, though, so she kept going. “Just THINK, will you? How often do you think an eighteen-year-old asks a thirty-something if he wants to sleep with her, no strings attached? Do you think this is likely to happen twice in your life? Hell, it’s now or never!”
I managed to put a faint smile on my face, shaking my head in disbelief. “Well, with that angle, it is hard to disagree, I’ll give you that…”
An instant, triumphant smile blossomed in her face.
“I’m probably going to regret this, but I’d regret if I didn’t, too. We’ll do it, Ella. If that’s what you truly want, we’ll do it. I’d rather regret something I did do than something I didn’t do.” Commitment made, I sat back. Here goes nothing, I thought.
She leant back in her chair, giggling as her smile grew into a big grin. “So shall it be written, so shall it be done, then.” She glanced over at me. “We just watched Ben Hur in history class. I nicked the line from there. Ooooh, I’m SO looking forward to this!!!”
Her gaze fell to my lap, where no amount of denim fabric could even make an attempt at hiding my massive erection. “And, it would seem; as do you!” she giggled.
I reached for my beer and had a good, long sip. This evening had certainly taken a turn for the unexpected.
“I’d be happy to have one, too. A beer, that is”, the girl which had, moments ago, taken the step from 'nice neighbourhood girl’ to 'femme fatale’ chirped.
I shook my head. “Not going to happen. No one is going to be able to come here and say I first got you drunk, then shagged you. Not going to happen.”
I got a massive eye-rolling for my trouble. “I don’t think a small beer is going to make all the difference in the grand scheme of things if someone were to find out you’ve been shagging me, as you so poetically put it. However, if it can ease your conscience somewhat, I can steal one. Would you like another, lover-to-be?”
She got on her feet, and I caught myself eyeing her with renewed interest; her lanky limbs, narrow hips, those oh-so-adorable, perfectly round, small breasts pressing against the slightly tight-fitting sweater… This could be fun.
I gave in. “ Make mine a Two Captains, will you? Thanks.”
She giggled as she floated past me. “I’ll just pour mine in that ludicrously big tea mug of yours. No worries, your reputation will be safe. For now, at least.”
I shook my head, still in semi-disbelief. I wasn’t convinced this was the smartest endeavour I’d ever agreed to; but of one thing I was certain: It wouldn’t be boring, either.
Ella returned, handing me a beer bottle and hoisting a mug in a mock toast. “Cheers, then, neighbour.”
What the hell. I popped the cork and toasted her. “Cheers, neighbour. To exciting times.”
“I sure hope so!” came the reply. She took a long sip from the mug, sighed contentedly and faced me. “Let’s get the practical matters out of the way first; I’m on the pill and as clean as fresh snow, Fred didn’t get within six feet of me until he’d put on a condom. Unless you’ve caught something I’d rather not have, let’s just have at it au naturel, huh?”
I nodded. “Duly noted. And when did you plan for, ah, our undertaking to get underway?”
She smiled her broadest grin and winked as she raised the mug to her lips again. “In half a beer’s time? It’s probably too late in the day for me to get the full treatment, but perhaps you could give me a quick teaser, just to make sure I come back tomorrow to get more, ah, to put Thomas to bed, I mean?”
Wow. I felt the pulse throbbing in my painfully erect member. Soon. Soon she’d be wrapped around me.
We shared our evening beer in silence; I hardly knew what kind of small talk was appropriate while counting down to having sex with her; and Ella? Well, she appeared to be perfectly content just nurturing her beer while watching the sunset. I’ll hand her that, though; it WAS a beautiful sunset.
Eventually, she glanced into her mug. “Empty.” she observed. “I’ll head in, just come along when you’re ready, huh?”
When I was ready? Heck. I had a last sip from my bottle, shrugging. I’d rather have Ella than more beer, but didn’t want to seem half as desperate to get her laid as I felt. I shrugged again. I decided to give her two minutes, then I’d follow.
Softly closing the porch door behind me, I headed for the bedroom; I figured I’d find her there.
Bingo. Her clothes were in a heap on the floor, suggesting the teenager under my duvets was as naked as she’d been when she entered this world; she’d pulled the duvet up to right under her chin, covering her fully. She giggled as I just stood there, mesmerized, looking at her while leaning against the doorpost.
“I’m sorry,” I said, voice thick with emotion. “I just need a moment to process this. As you said, this doesn’t happen every day. Hell, it is a sight I never, ever thought I’d behold in here.”
“Never? Have you NEVER fantasized about seducing the babysitter? Be honest!” she giggled from under the duvet, before pulling it aside enough to show a hip with a narrow, fading bikini line on it, before quickly covering herself up again.
“If you want to see more, you’ve got to come here…”
I didn’t take much persuading; stepping closer, I started undressing, trying my best not to rush it. “By the way, I honestly have never entertained the thought that you’d end up in here; I won’t pretend to be a saint, it’s more that the women I secretly undress in my mind are mostly, say, at least in their late twenties, preferably even in their thirties. Let’s just say you went under my radar. Until fifteen minutes ago, that is.”
I pulled down my jeans before stepping out of them, pulling off my socks; and then, without further ado, dropping my boxers. Ella let out a giggle and a muted whistle as my cock sprang free; while not the most generously endowed of men at some 6 inches, I’d been blessed with a rather significant girth as if to compensate.
I didn’t wait for another invitation. It was, after all, my bed. Quickly getting down on the sheets, I tugged at the duvet and joined her. She jolted as our bodies first brushed against each other; I put my hand on her belly, slowly stroking her glowing skin until my hand rested on her hip, pulling her onto her side, facing me. My hand came to rest on her ass, my cock pressing firmly against her stomach.
“So, how long do you think you can stay?” I asked.
She contemplated it for a moment. “Well, the old ones won’t find it strange if I stay a little after Thomas has fallen asleep, so… Well, say, an hour, tops?”
I nodded. Fuck, this was awkward. One thing was sleeping with someone you were in a relationship with; that made all sorts of caresses, petting, kisses and whatnot seem natural. But now what? Ella must have sensed my hesitation, because as if on cue, she kissed me softly on the cheek. “Just treat me like you would a girlfriend, huh?” She half whispered, half moaned in my ear. “Just don’t tell me you love me. That’d be creepy.”
I answered her kiss, a bit hesitant at first, then I just felt any resistance melt away, and surrendered to the passion welling up in me. Our kiss grew more passionate, almost desperate, before I reluctantly broke it. “An hour. Tops. Well, let’s see what we can do…”
She giggled and pressed herself against me, firmly.
I was dizzy with desire. It was a year and a half since I had last had sex with someone. Heck, it was a year and a half since I’d even kissed someone, been so close to someone. And I was about to come closer. Much closer.
She was eager, warm and driven as she snuggled ever closer to me; we kissed again, she went all in, seemingly trying to push me out of the bed, so eager was she to join our bodies. I forced myself to break the kiss again, putting my hands on her shoulders and gently pushing her over on her back, before leaning on an elbow, gazing at her in lingering disbelief that this was even happening.
“I really haven’t come to grips with you being here, us about to do what we’re about to do,” I murmured. “I’ll do my best. Just… Well, the first time with a new partner may be exciting, but it most often gets even better with time.”
She giggled, then burst into a brief, chirp-like laugh. “A bit early to try to sell in repeat performances, isn’t it? No worries, I’m sure you’ll make it worth my while and then some. Just, please, do it, huh?”
I nodded, pulled the duvet aside and exposed for the first time her naked body. Beautiful didn’t cut it. Her pert, perfectly round breasts arrogantly ignored gravity, rock-hard nipples crowning them, surrounded by wonderfully bright pink areolas. I stifled a moan as I softly let a hand fall to her flat stomach again, gently caressing her while taking in the sight; from her neck down her cleavage, she had a lot of small freckles, gradually becoming dimmer before disappearing fully just under her breasts. Her belly, so soft, yet firm, below which a full, dense mat of red hair covered her sex. Well, for the time being, it did. Not for long. Easing myself south, I stroked her hip, then her thigh as I kissed my way from her chest, playfully biting a nipple, over her belly… Her time to moan. “Wow, seriously? Are you going to…”
I was. She eagerly pulled her legs up a little, spread them, making room for me. I moved, soon sitting between her thighs, leaning forward as I gently pressed them further apart. The scent of woman was intoxicating. I wet a finger in my mouth, then pressed it against the dense mat, playfully parting it, finding her slit. A couple of quick rubs were enough to make her groan. I moved in for the kill, my tongue darting along the length of her slit, finding her just as wet as I’d hoped. I started licking her in long, lazy strokes, starting at the very bottom, working my way up, teasing her labia apart, savouring the taste. Oh, it had been so long, way too long…
She bucked against me, her hands ruffing my hair, pushing me closer. I grew bolder, pausing a little every time I reached the top of her slit, tickling her hood without any real effort to push it back, biding my time. The familiar taste and scent of aroused woman was all around; salt; sea; spices; Ella. I grew greedy, almost frantically lapping away at her, homing in on her clit, the thought that I was moving too fast just forming in my mind when Ella put me at ease by weakly whispering “Yes, yes; just like that, just like that, just…”, her words fading into a guttural moan.
Well, I could keep doing just that. Intensifying my efforts, I closed my lips over her clit, gently sucking, feeling it grow. The tip of my tongue teased it briefly before withdrawing, giving her a second or two of respite before tickling her again. Her moans grew louder. Still sucking, I softly let my tongue slide over her by now fully engorged clit; moans turned to groans turned to almost pleading yelps as I went to work on her. Slowly and deliberately would have to wait until some other time; all that mattered now was to bring her to the orgasm she so desperately was chasing; and, with any luck, there’d be time for me to have one, too, before she had to head back home.
Ella was now so loud that for a moment I was concerned she might be heard outside. Telling her to keep quiet, though, was hardly an option. Neither was weakening my effort.
I did, however, change the tune a little, pulling away from her clit, sucking at first one finger, then two, slowly pushing past her soaked labia, entering her. In her to the knuckles, I resumed teasing her clit with my tongue while slowly fingering her. It didn’t take too long for her to buck violently against me, arching on the bed, squealing as orgasm took her and made her tremble, her pussy mashing my fingers mercilessly, me doing my best to stay on her, in her, as she rode it out.
As she sank back down on the bed, orgasm ebbing, her face looked almost angelic - no one seeing her at this moment would be in any doubt as to what she had just experienced. If possible, she looked even more beautiful now than she had a few minutes ago. I sat up, looking at her sweat-glistening, totally relaxed body. She held her eyes closed, smil

Irresistible Johnson: part 3

Wed, 23 Nov 2022 13:44:38 -0600

Irresistible Johnson: part 3 -
Brian and his cursed penis keep getting into trouble. (sci-fi)
By AnonymousPerv. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Series Recap.
My name is Brian Johnson and I live a conditional life. Ever since the lab accident, things changed, and not for the better. Allow me to recap my woes, so you’ll better understand. I was exposed to gamma radiation at work. It was a clumsy, stupid, careless error; just a dumb move on my part. After exposure, the team kept me isolated for weeks and monitored my health.
At the time, it seemed I was going to make it out unscathed, but just as I was about to be released from quarantine, we discovered the true trauma I actually incurred.
Karen, (one of my bosses and also a licensed nurse), subjected me to one last physical examination, and at her intrusive insistence to know every detail about me, I explained that my penis was hanging much lower since the gamma exposure. It seemed to be a bit thicker, too. Length was never an issue with me, but hanging there five or six inches all the time was out of the ordinary. Typically, I was a grower, not a show-er. Anyway, Karen takes a peek at Mr. Floppy and gets an insatiable urge to swallow my semen. I swear I couldn’t have stopped her if I tried.
Here’s where it gets weird. After swallowing, her tits grew instantly, from her modest A cup to a D, I would guess. It was insane. We had to tell the rest of the team what happened, and soon, more tests on my sperm began. Phil, the Senior Partner, desperately wanted to find a way to synthesize it. “Natural breast growth? So many women will want that,” he insisted.
The problem was, the breast development was only temporary, lasting about a day, before returning to normal. Up til now, we haven’t discovered a way to synthesize my sperm, but further testing led to the discovery that if a woman ingests it, but not directly from the source - say, a Petri dish, for instance (yes, we actually did this) - well, the poor subject gets intensely horny, to the point they will fuck themselves silly in the streets if they have to. Total, unashamed, unabashed sluttery.
I’m sure you can imagine how awful I feel about any of my friends or colleagues having to go through such an experience, even if we were all willing participants in this research. Lately, I was feeling more and more alienated from my colleagues. Hell, even Janice was steering clear of me, and we used to chat every day. Still, the team marched on with the work.
What else? What other stupid things can my penis do? I have a hard time keeping track. Oh yeah, we learned that if I go several days without an orgasm, I produce some kind of pheromone that makes women want to fuck me (and only me) and right. fucking. now. Jesus Christ, the pressure. Can you imagine? I might not want it, but the women demand it. Masturbating alone isn’t good enough for them when exposed to this. However, fucking them leads to the risk of me cumming in their pussy (which they always demand, by the way), and that that leads to the worst of it…
Just like when a woman sucks me off, their breasts instantly grow when I cum inside them, but this time they begin lactating heavily. Multiple, daily pumps are required for about week, until the breasts finally, slowly, return to normal.
For a while there, all the girls were terrified the effects were going to be permanent. It was right after I had accidentally fucked every female member of the team in the conference room. My pheromones were off, because I hadn’t orgasmed in days, and they all needed my cock. Thank goodness their breast growth and lactation issues only lasted a week or so, after that ordeal. The girls were a bit more forgiving with me when they went back to normal. Well, all except for Karen, my boss. We’ll get to her issues later.
So this is my life now. I can no longer be naked in front of any girl, or she’ll get the irresistible urge to suck me off. I have to masturbate regularly in order not to get a “build up” of these funky pheromones which drive women crazy, and there’s no way I can have any meaningful, long-term relationship with a woman, because who would want to risk getting enormous, milky tits every time they fuck their boyfriend? This was absolutely the worst thing to ever happen to me.
The only friend I could turn to is my sister, Penny. She’s my roommate, too, so she understands my plight. We have to be careful that she never sees me naked, considering we share some of the same space. Early in discovery, my sister caught me naked once, and went down on me like a dog on a steak. Or a bone, rather. She hated herself for swallowing every drop of my cum, but came to terms with it pretty quickly when her tits blew up in size. Normally a pert B, Penny looked like a straight-up bimbo. Surprisingly, she loved it, but when her breasts went back to normal the following day, she was grossly disappointed. We rarely speak of the subject anymore.
So here I am, on a Sunday night, once again beating off, so that I can work in peace tomorrow. I wish I had a different life. I wasn’t sure how long I could keep this up. I just didn’t think it could get any worse.
I was wrong.
Chapter 4.
“Well I sure hope you’re fucking happy now, Brian!” screamed Karen, the moment I walked into work the following morning. Karen disliked me from the start of my employment, well before the “incident” and her disdain for me grew on a daily basis. I also think she thought I derived pleasure from my predicament. She had no empathy, or understanding, of how it ruined my social life.
“What? What now?” I cried. “I have been nothing but compliant, and I’ve done everything you have asked of me, since all this began!”
“Heath’s dead.” Karen said, crossing her arms, glaring.
My heart dropped. Heath was a healthy, middle-aged man. Or at least he was. How could this be? And what did I have to do with it? “Dead?” I gasped, repeating, “Dead? What… what happened?”
Karen spit it out, “Over the weekend, he tried exposing himself to the same gamma radiation that you experienced. We found him this morning. Seemed he died of priapism. We’ve quarantined the room and sealed the east wing.”
“Why are you blaming me?” I asked, dropping my briefcase on the floor. “That’s terrible. I don’t want anything like that to happen to anyone. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.”
“Did you know he was going to do it?”
“Of course not!” I didn’t hesitate answering. It was the truth.
Karen’s deep prejudice against me may have some merit. After I came in her pussy at that meeting, knowing her tits would get huge and milky, I then put my cock in her face. It was kind of an evil thing to do, because as we all know, when a woman sees my cock, she has to suck it to completion. It becomes a compulsion for them. Karen is the only woman, of all the girls on the team, who was both exposed to getting creampied, and swallowing my load, in the same brief period of time. Herein lied a new development.
Like everyone else, Karen’s tits ballooned up after I came in her. Lucky for her, being small chested, this turned her into a D cup. And just like the others, who got vaginally stuffed with my semen, she began lactating, too. I remember poor Janice being in the room at the time. She’s well over a D cup in her normal state, and this was the second time she had been affected by my sperm. The girl could barely walk, and had milk spraying everywhere, in all directions with her every move. But back to Karen…
After a week passed, Karen was the only one whose tits hadn’t changed back to normal. Instead, they stayed large and continually produced milk. So much milk. More weeks have since passed, and she is still forced to nurse herself two or three times a day to relieve the pressure. Otherwise, she leaks like a sieve. One can understand why Karen hates me so fucking much.
Still, having this occur had one bonus. It was the first time we had seen long-term (possibly permanent) breast enhancement derived from my sperm, something we’d been working on in the lab for months. We had discussed having one of the other girls try it - that is, taking in my semen vaginally and orally, in the same brief period of time - to see if they would develop this permanent growth like Karen did, but no one wanted to take on the risk, or burden, of having lactating breasts.
Right now, with Heath dead, I figured our research would be set back several months. He was our best scientist, too, very methodical in his work. I shook my head, looking to Karen, noticing she had two large wet stains on her blouse. Her nipples were leaking again. I assume she hadn’t yet noticed.
“Karen, I promise. I had no idea Heath was going to do this. If I had, I certainly would have advised against it, and I would have warned you immediately. Heath may have been jealous about my… circumstances… but I assure you it is a curse, and I want nothing more than to be free of this problem! Had Heath succeeded, he would be regretting it. I feel so bad for him and his family.”
“Dr. Peterson at UMH is going to do an autopsy for us,” said Karen, scoffing at me. “We’ve had to call the authorities, of course. Your history may come up in this investigation.”
“Anything I can do to help?” I asked. “Karen, I’m so sorry. I know you and Heath were good friends.”
Karen wiped an eye and looked at some papers she was holding. “Phil is finishing up a meeting in Houston with one of our license-partners, then he’s flying straight back. Would you mind helping Heath’s wife with the funeral arrangements? I need to organize things with Alicia, and write a couple reports.” Karen’s voice was cracking. I guess her sorrow had shifted to anger in my presence, but now her emotions were getting the better of her. I know she didn’t like me, but Karen was not a hateful person. She had genuine feelings and was hurting right now.
“Of course, give me her number and I’ll do whatever I can,” I said.
“I’ll email you the details. Uh, when is the last time you jacked off?”
“Last night,” I sighed.
“Do it again, before you meet with her.” Karen didn’t want my pheromones creating any issues. I understood, of course, especially during such a sensitive time.
“Okay,” I conceded.
I noticed Karen held herself differently since her physical change. She was always assertive, sometimes even aggressively so, but now that she had such a striking figure, she appeared more confident, even in her grief. I headed to my office, prepared to do the deed when I bumped into Janice. “Oh, hey,” I said.
“Hey,” she repeated, eyes darting to the floor. She stepped aside, allowing more space between us in the narrow hall. Ever since I filled her pussy with my cum, and she had to manage those milky, enormous globes for a week, she went out of her way to avoid me.
I used to be a bit bashful, and I was certainly never one to be described as a go-getter, but considering all the events I’d been through, I was beginning to find it easier to broach uncomfortable subjects. I touched Janice on the shoulder. “Hey, stop a second. Look, I get it. I know why you are apprehensive around me, but please know, I masturbate daily so I don’t produce those pheromones. I will never be irresponsible with this, and I will not put you at risk.”
Janice huffed and kind of turned red. “I… I guess… look, Brian. Just stay on your side of the fence, okay?”
“That’s what I am telling you. I will do just that. I’m only asking you to ease up. You can relax around me. The times you were exposed to me was during the discovery phase. Every test and experiment we’ve done since then has been with willing participants, with other women. It is always going to be that way from now on. I miss your company and our conversations.”
Janice nodded and walked off, hurriedly. In time, I hoped it would get better. It was later that afternoon I met with Heath’s wife, Amanda. I drove to her house and she let me in, expecting me. She led me to the kitchen where we sat at the table. I spoke, “They asked me to help you with the arrangements, and to do anything you require during this difficult time.”
Amanda was cuter than I expected her to be. A short, dainty little thing, we had never been introduced before this. She was somber, but I don’t think the real grief had yet set in. Some people experience trauma in strange ways. “Is it true?” she asked. “He did it on purpose? He exposed himself to radiation on purpose?”
Due to the liability, the company had to tell at least some of the truth, but I just wasn’t sure if they gave more details, like as to WHY he did it. “As far as I know, we really don’t have all the details, but on the surface, that is what it appears to be.”
Amanda was shaking her head. “I thought we were happy. Suicide? Why would he do that?”
“Ma'am, again, we don’t know for sure what it is, but I am sure you will discover all the details in due time. There is one thing I do know. Heath always spoke highly of you. He loved you.”
The widow gazed up, giving me half a smile. “I don’t even know what I’m going to do.”
“That’s why I’m here. Why don’t we just focus on the funeral arrangements? The company is covering all expenses, so you won’t have to worry about anything. I’ve arranged a meeting tomorrow morning with the funeral director, but we can make some of the decisions now in preparation. Is that okay?”
Amanda sniffled and nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “Heath really loved his work, I know that. I want you to know I don’t find any of you at fault.”
I held my breath. Had she known more details, perhaps she wouldn’t be saying that. I continued giving information to Amanda that I hoped would help reassure her and said, “I’ve been advised to tell you that the president of our company insists on matching and honoring Heath’s full pension. It’s a forty-five year guarantee.”
Amanda sighed. “I don’t want to think about that right now, but thank you. It’s nice to know.”
“How about we get a few of the basics covered?”
Amanda looked like she needed the social company, even it was a sad setting. We sat at the kitchen table and went through the coffin selection, service options, floral arrangements, and a host of other details. In between, she peppered the conversation with memories of her and Heath together. “Thank you for helping me with this. Heath and I don’t have any family.”
“What? No parents? Siblings?”
“We were orphans, both placed in the same home in our late teens. We fell in love almost immediately. Later, when we got our independence, I worked two shifts at bars and diners, while I put Heath through college.”
“Wow, a lucky guy,” I whispered. Now I better understood the bond they shared. Heath was probably more handsome in his youth, and his wife must have been incredibly attractive then. In her mid-40s, she certainly held it together. Pert, lithe and perky, even in this depressed state.
“We never had kids. Maybe that fear of being orphaned, who knows? We enjoyed our freedom, but yeah, no family. Both Heath and I were shoveled from one foster home to another, until we finally aged out of the program.”
We’d been working for some time and I needed to uncramp my legs and pee. “Amanda, would you mind pointing me to the restroom?”
“Oh, you know what, Brian? It’s through the hall and to the left, but… well, If it weren’t for… you know what? Just follow me.” Amanda got up and touched my wrist. “It’s back here, but easier to walk you there than try to give you directions. I love this house, but the placement of the guest bathroom is terrible.”
Amanda took me through the living room, and down a split hall that took a sharp left. She opened the first door to the right, leading into a bedroom. She pointed to a door on the left-side wall, from the interior door. “Through there. There’s no access from the hall, so it confuses people.”
“No problem. Thank you.” I moved past her, opening the door to the bathroom. Amanda stepped away, heading back to the kitchen, I presumed.
I presume a lot of things. If you’ve been keeping up with my story, you would know that it’s my propensity of relying on assumptions, and presumptions, that constantly causes me grief. Well, it happened again. This time, it was assuming that Amanda had actually left the room.
See, at home, when I am alone, or when I know my sister is asleep in her room, I have habits that are a bit more lax than most. I’m not gross or anything, I just don’t typically close the door when I go to the bathroom for a quick tinkle. As Amanda and I were the only ones in the house - and I thought she had walked back to the kitchen, I didn’t bother closing the door behind me. Why bother with a bedroom, hallway and living room between me, and the only other person in the house?
I whipped out my cock and prepared for business. To this day, I am impressed by its hefty weight while it’s in its flaccid state. Ever since the work incident, it’s been like this. I lifted the toilet lid, and was just starting the stream when I heard Amanda’s voice. “Oh hey, I haven’t checked lately, but if you need more toilet paper, it’s under the sink.” When I heard her, my heart sank. She sounded very close. Too close… and before I got a chance to respond, her head popped around the door.
Now I can only assume that the reason Amanda would poke her head into the bathroom, is because she believed I hadn’t started using it, as evidenced by the open door, I’m guessing. Perhaps she thought that I was in front of the mirror or something, or just about to close the door. Who knows? But the point is, I was standing just a few feet away from the door, aiming my peter into the water bowl when she saw me. The toilet is ninety degrees from the door, so I was angled with my side to her, and everything was clearly in her line of sight.
“Amanda, no!” I yelled, attempting to turn and block my large cock from her view, but by then I was too far in to stop, and I couldn’t fully turn away.
“Oh, I am so sorry, Brian!” answered Amanda, but instead of darting back out, she stepped further into the bathroom. “The uh… the door was open, so I thought maybe you were trying to find the toilet paper or something. I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s okay,” I said, as I tried to shift my back to her more, yet Amanda kept inching forward, angling herself around to get a better peek. “Do you… do you think you could let me finish?” I asked.
“Oh, again, I am so sorry. How thoughtless of me. I was just thinking.. well, gosh… I don’t know exactly…” As Amanda spoke, she continued creeping closer. I pushed the muscles in my bladder, trying to relieve myself as quickly as possible. This was getting awkward. If Alicia saw my penis, and I think she did, she was having the same reaction every other woman has: the insatiable desire to swallow my semen.
I tried to slow her down. “Ma'am, I uh… I could really finish easier if you would please step back.”
Amanda stopped, but she didn’t step back. Instead, she tilted sideways, and this time, finally caught a clear look at my long, thick shaft. I wasn’t sure how appealing it was with pee streaming out of it, but I couldn’t help it. I had to finish.
“Brian, I have to… I have to…” Her voice was trembling, fingertips at her lips.
I turned to her while still in mid-stream, lifting her chin up to meet my eyes, to get them off my penis. “It’s okay, Amanda. I understand what you are going through. If you let me finish, I will let you do what you need to do.”
“Do you promise?” she asked. Her chin was lifted up, but her eyes were down, not wanting to miss anything. “Really promise?” she begged.
I turned back to the toilet and focused for the next ten or so seconds while finishing up. If I was going to get sucked off, I wanted to be comfortable. A full bladder is never comfortable. Amanda continued to watch, but otherwise left me unmolested. Finally, I flushed and turned to her, leaving my cock out. Without hesitation, she dropped to her knees, her mouth deep over my thick shaft instantly.
“I must warn you, if you swallow, you will get bigger tits.”
Amanda stopped, pulling off. “What?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s just.. it’s just a thing I have. You’re like.. what, a B cup or so?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re gonna get big tits.”
“You have to be joking.”
“Yet you have to swallow my cum, don’t you? It’s all you crave right now.”
Amanda squeezed my shaft and gazed back on it, before looking back up at me. “Yes, I want it. I want to swallow all of it. I don’t know why.”
“Almost supernatural, isn’t it? Certainly unnatural.” I said.
“Maybe,” she replied, licking the tip.
“Amanda, I mean it. You’ll get bigge

Irresistible Johnson: part 2

Wed, 23 Nov 2022 12:13:40 -0600

Irresistible Johnson: part 2 -
Johnson’s mutant sperm powers grow stronger. (sci-fi)
By AnonymousPerv. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Chapter 2
I had cum so many times in a cup recently that my wrist needed a brace. The team had been trying desperately to discover what was in my semen that might be the catalyst to breast growth, but nothing in our investigations could discern anything. The chemical composition appeared to be the same as a normal man’s, and the sperm count was on the high side of normal.
In the meantime, we’d also been giving Laura Pine daily doses of my jizz. She blew me every morning, first thing. Usually, her breasts were back to normal (for her, small) within 24 hours. On a few occasions, she sucked me off multiple times a day. Her tits erupted to insane sizes, but no changes in patterns seemed to help make the effects last longer, or be permanent.
The team had gone straight into working a way to put my sperm into a pill form, anyway, to see if that would do anything. There had been no positive test results as of yet. It was Laura who got the idea one morning to try something different. She met with me, Phil and Heath and offered an experiment.
“Hey, we keep trying this pill out and it never works. We can’t figure out what makes Brad’s sperm so special, either. I want to do something different.”
I was getting antsy. By now, Laura was usually sucking me off. Why was she not getting straight to it? I knew I’d be jerking off into a cup several times later in the day, so I always enjoyed getting some real attention. It broke that monotony.
“What ya got?” asked Heath.
“I want Brad to masturbate today, as you probably need him to, anyway.”
“Uh.. okay. We were hoping to get some samples today, yes.”
“Let me drink it. We have never once thought to just see if it works by drinking it.”
Phil and Heath’s eyes lit up. “My god, you’re right,” said Phil. “Laura, go round everyone else up. Bring them to the conference room. Brad, go do your thing. Be sure to get all of it in the cup.”
“I’m getting good at that,” I said.
I left and went to what we had termed ‘the chamber’ some time ago. It was just a private room with a desk, a chair, and a computer with internet access. I took off my pants and underwear and spent about ten minutes, as usual, trying to find something decent to ‘land on’ and push through this boring business. Once my cock got stiff in my hand, I knew within a couple minutes I’d be unloading in the cup.
With expert skills, I snatched the cup with my left hand just prior to shoving my cock it. To avoid splash-back, I squeezed the muscles of my shaft as ropes of cum filled the empty container. I suppose there were worse ways to make a living.
I put a lid on the cup and cleaned up after myself with a few wet tissues. I then repeated the pat-down with some dry ones. After pulling up my jeans and situating myself, I finally went to the conference room.
“Oh, good,” said Heath, taking the cup from me as I came through the doors. “Have a seat,” he said, pointing to one of the empty ones.
All the others were also seated around the table, and Laura happened to be at the end. Heath made his way to her and handed her the cup, just I finished settling in my chair.
“Here goes nothing,” she said. She held up the cup and guzzled as much as she could in one attempt. She went back a bit to lick it up with her tongue.
“Huh?” she said.
“What is it, Laura?” asked Phil.
Laura looked over at Phil and Heath and then at me and the others situated around the table.
“You know how Brad usually tastes okay? Like it isn’t revolting or anything. At least, it never has been for me.”
Karen Langdon, the one who genuinely despised me, rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. She was none too pleased she had sucked me off four times now, the last because she wanted to surprise her new boyfriend with big tits. “Yes, we know, she said. “Get on with it.”
“This is… this is… this is so, so different.” Laura then reached into the cup with two fingers and swirled them around the inside, trying to get whatever remnants were left over. She then quickly shoved the two fingers into her mouth. “Oh, mph, gd,” she said. It almost sounded like “Oh my god.”
She finally pulled her fingers back and said. “That is the most delicious thing I have ever tasted. Ever. It’s like caviar on steroids.”
“What?” asked Janice, stunned. “Probably a fluke. Something he ate?”
Janice was seated next to me, closest to the conference room doors. She was the house skeptic and was more eager than anyone to break the science behind the phenomena of women getting big tits after swallowing my cum.
Janice was also the only woman on the team who hadn’t sucked me off and swallowed it, but that wasn’t by her accounts because she hated the idea of blowing me. It’s because she already has enormous tits. By enormous, I don’t mean D cups. I know a musical scale goes up to G. I’m guessing she does, too. The idea of allowing Janice to get even bigger tits, if only for a day, mortified everyone; not just her. Phil or Heath had once joked about it, but even they weren’t that cruel.
“What did you eat last night, Brad?” asked Janice. She was still watching Laura lick and suck her fingers.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Same stuff I always do. I had ramen noodles and a PB&J.”
“Do any drugs? Ingest or inhale anything out of the ordinary?”
“Not that I can think of.”
Phil raised his hand. “Brad, do you mind repeating this one more time.”
I did the proverbial “do-I-have-to-shuffle” that one might see when asking their kid to take out the trash.
“This time, I don’t want you to hesitate. When you’re getting sucked off, the women swallow your semen the moment it comes out. I want to see if there is window of time thing here.”
“I see. Makes sense,” I said. I looked over at Laura. “I’ll be back.”
“Please do! If it’s going to taste that good. Fucking hurry!”
The other girls’ jaws were all open, looking Laura on, in disbelief. In their minds, she was turning into a cum-dumpster, always sucking off Brad, always getting such great tits every day, all day. It was difficult for Karen to admit, but she envied Laura. She would kill to have kept those tits permanent. She really hoped the team could crack this puzzle.
This time, when I made it to the chamber, I took off my underwear and put my pants halfway back on, before doing my business. This way, after I squeezed out the last drop, I was able to quickly yank my pants up and rush to the conference room. It couldn’t have been thirty second from ejaculation to ingestion, as Laura snagged the cup from me the moment I arrived. She stepped back, almost like she was going to walk back to her chair, but she only made it about halfway.
Laura began squirming and it became more and more obvious that she was horny. Straight up horny.
“Fuck yes,” she said, slurping up the cum in the cup.
She ran her tongue across the rim of the cup and then round and round in her mouth, allowing the taste to linger as long as possible before allowing it to pour down her throat. She then repeated her method of using two fingers to wipe up all the sperm in the cup.
“Just like before, huh?” asked Jennifer.
“I swear, better than the first time, even.” Laura paused and looked at me. “I’m not sure I want to suck you off anymore. I’d rather enjoy this flavor over having big tits.”
It was then I noticed Laura’s tits hadn’t yet gotten bigger from swallowing that first load, like they do when she sucks me off.
“Well, who’s to say you’re in the right for thinking you deserve either,” I objected. “Do I have no say in this experiment?”
Heath shook his head. “You’re the one who messed up, Brad. Least you can do is ride along and let us figure this thing out. We will all be very rich if we crack this.”
Heath was right about messing up. I should have been fired long ago.
Laura looked at Phil and Heath. “You could sell this as-is, in a can, and people would pay good money for it. I’m guessing more than caviar, sincerely.” She looked up at me. “Rarer than caviar, too.”
“Hey, I am not a factory machine, capable of pumping out gallons of jizz.”
“It could be priced appropriately.”
Then there was a very brief paused before she Laura made out a loud moan.
“Umm; Hmm!!!”
As Laura had been chatting up the idea of making a Brad Johnson Delicatessen, she inexplicable reeled into an uncontrollable orgasm. Her legs crossed and her tan business slacks became soaked in the crotch, so much liquid, one could wring it out. Laura’s left hand went to her left breast and she squeezed the nipple through her clothing as hard as she could.
“Yes!” she screamed. Now, her other hand made it to her crotch and began stroking at what could only be described as an unnatural speed. Aggravated, Laura ripped off the top buttons of her pants, and shoved them, along with her panties, to the floor. She crammed her middle two fingers of her right hand into her pussy, and repeated the excessively fast stroking.
“Laura, are you okay?” asked Karen, jumping up, cautiously moving toward Laura.
Laura looked over at her and in her groans and moans, managed to quickly nod her head.
“You’re okay?”
Now Laura nodded with more exaggeration and more slowly, her eyebrows turned up in ecstasy. There was no denying she was enjoying getting off.
“Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes,” Laura muttered, while looking down to watch her hands slam herself in the vagina. It looked so incredibly hot to her. In fact, everything in the room and around her made her horny. Drinking sperm in front of coworkers had made her horny. So horny. But now, with everyone watching her fuck herself… it drove her to the edge. Soon, she came again and finally fell back into a chair, legs spread wide. Karen rushed to her aid, checking her pulse and heart rate.
“Breathe in, Laura. Breathe in.”
But instead of breathing, Laura began laughing. Then that laughter grew louder and even a bit wicked.
Karen, somewhat startled, edged back. Softly, she said, “Laura, I know I keep asking this, but are you okay? Can you describe what you are feeling?”
This time, Laura shook her head and instead pointed at me. Or rather, my crotch. As I was standing on the same side of the table as Laura, but nearer the doors, I was clearly in her sight. I must have been the first thing that caught her attention after her intense orgasm.
Laura had monopolized the attention of everyone in the room from the moment I’d arrived, and no one had noticed that my pants had come undone and fallen to the floor. Not even me. We were far too busy watching Laura pound herself, like some out of control animal in heat. Anyway, I must not have buttoned properly when I jolted out of the chamber to bring the sperm to Laura as quickly as possible.
Janice, who I was standing closest to, followed Laura’s pointed finger to my cock, and instantly her eyes went wide. She then looked up to my eyes, then slowly back down to her cleavage that she was displaying while seated beneath me. Taking the advice from Karen that was meant for Laura, Janice took a deep breath in. She then looked up at me one last time.
“I am so fucked,” she said.
And a moment later, Janice was on her knees giving me the best blowjob of my life.
Chapter 3
“Brian, I think we’re going to have to go at this a different way,” said Heath. “We’ve been hacking at this for months going nowhere.”
“And I could really use a break,” I said.
It was true. For four months now, I had been subjected to daily blowjobs from Laura. Not to mention the occasional ones I got from the other girls. This, coupled with having to jerk off in a cup almost every day, sometimes multiple times a day… well, I just needed to give my penis a rest.
“Why don’t you take a week off,” said Phil. “All of us. We’ll come back refreshed and have the whole team sit around the conference table. We’ll discuss our findings, or lack thereof, and possible future approaches, before continuing on. Sound good?”
Laura overheard and seemed displeased she would go a week without the benefits of sucking me off, but Janice seemed empathetic. She’d been listening in on the whole conversation, too. The one time she sucked me off, that poor girl had to be taken home in a U-Haul. Her poor tits were so heavy she could barely stand. Thankfully, the effects always wear off within 24 hours or so.
“You deserve a break,” said Janice to me, before turning to the others. “I’ll send out an email to everyone that we’re taking next week off, and we met back in the conference room at 8 a.m. the following Monday.
Staying home, away from the chaos and stress of work, and secluding myself from the world was the best vacation I could ask for. Being the center of attention all the time is wearing. By the time Sunday rolled around, I must have watched three dozen movies, cooked every day for myself, and even finished a couple books. I realized I hadn’t spent one second beating off or getting serviced by some woman. I really hoped that when we re-examined how we could further test and monetize by mutant sperm, it would involve me beating off a lot less.
Usually, when I walk in at 8, I head straight to my office where Laura is waiting to suck me off. I didn’t even bother heading there now. Hopefully, today would mark a real change.
"Oh, hi Brian,” said Janice, when I pushed through the conference room doors. Phil and Heath were already there, and just as I found a seat to the left of Janice, Laura, Jennifer and one of my other bosses, Karen, strolled in.
Janice coughed and tugged at the top of her blouse. “Well, okay then. Everyone is here. Shall we get started?”
Jennifer sat to my left and Laura and Karen now sat across with the two men in the room.
Phil raised his hand. “Let’s address the obvious. Our goal is to discover a way to synthesize Brian’s sperm to put it into a pill form - or any form, for that matter - that would allow women to receive the same benefits as if they sucked him off. That is, they get a temporary breast enhancement.”
Heath was kind of rolling his hands, indicating every one in the room knew this, so to get on with it, but Phil liked to be thorough.
“Is it hot in here?” asked Janice, interrupting, while unbuttoning a couple of buttons. With her huge tits, she already exposed a decent amount of cleavage. Now the top third of her breasts were practically spilling out.
“Yeah, it is a bit, I think,” said Jennifer. “But you don’t have to strip,” she laughed.
Phil shook his head and continued, “Under the microscope, we’ve discovered not one thing different between Brian’s sperm, and the sperm of any other healthy adult male.”
I noticed Jennifer reached up and gave her left breast a light squeeze. “Healthy adult male…” she mumbled. I turned to Phil and Heath to see if they saw what I just saw, but by then Jennifer had put her hand away.
“However, when ingested in its natural state, Brian’s sperm is… well, according to Laura and the other girls now… delicious. Yet the two men we hired to come taste test it did not find it appealing at all.”
That was true, we had done all kinds of taste tests these past months.
“Umm, guys?” interrupted Janice. “Do you mind? This… uh… ”
“Yes, what is it?” asked Phil.
“I’m uh… just feeling a little strange… hot. I need to cool down or I am going to pass out.”
“Do you need to lay down?” I asked, leaning in closer to Janice. As her chair was next to mine, I was able to touch her on the shoulder. “Are you feeling sick?” I asked.
She looked at me. “No, not sick. Just, umm… guys, I need a minute.”
Janice abruptly hopped up and ran out of the conference room. The rest of us were stunned by the sudden departure.
“She is right, you know,” said Karen. “This room… or something… it’s making me kind of hot.”
“Me too,” said Jennifer. “but not like hot hot. You know…”
“Thank God I’m not the only one,” said Laura. “Jesus Christ!” Then Laura quickly pulled her purse off the floor and began digging through it. “I sometimes use this when I get too horny, but it has never been needed more.”
All the men in the room jaws dropped as Laura procured an eight inch vibrator, with clitoral stimulator and all. Within seconds, she had stripped herself of her skirt and panties and was leaning back in her chair.
“Oh my god, I really need to fuck someone right now. I don’t know if this is going to do it!” Laura then rammed that vibrator, and not before turning it on maximum, right into her open pussy, to the disbelief of everyone in the room. Well, the men, anyway. The other two women seemed to be getting as turned on as Laura, and they both began undressing.
“Damn it!” screamed Heath. “Brian, did you do anything different?”
“No! I swear!” I was being completely honest.
“Come on, you had to have done something! How else to explain this phenomena?”
“I swear, Heath. I haven’t even beaten off in a week. I came straight here. I didn’t fuck anyone or show anyone my dick all week!”
While I protested, Laura rammed herself with the vibrator, while the other two girls finger-banged themselves. I tried not to let it distract me from the conversation. I didn’t want to get in trouble again.
“Wait a minute,” said Phil. “So you’re saying you haven’t had any sexual release in a week?”
“Yes!” I yelled.
Heath and Phil looked at other and paused. Then, Phil said, “Pheromones.”
Of course, it hit me and I stated as much, “You think my pent up sperm is somehow affecting these women? They all seem to be craving the need for intercourse.”
“YES!! screamed the girls, in unison.
"I think that explains it,” said Heath, shaking his head. “Is there no end in sight to these 'gifts’ of yours?”
I looked at the three girls in the room, all pounding themselves, but each, in their own way, begging for the real thing. I then looked back to Phil and Heath.
“Well, there are three of us.”
“No!” screamed Karen. “Just you! I need you to fuck me.”
Karen hated me. She always hated me. The fact she had blown me and sucked me off sometimes drove her nuts, I knew that, yet here she was begging to be fucked by me.
“Use me!!” she screamed. “My pussy is yours!”
“No, me!” screamed Jennifer. “I’ll let you fuck me in the ass!”
Janice jumped up and pulled at my hardening crotch. “No, me! Let me fuck you, Brian. I’ve always wanted to fuck you.”
Heath slammed his fist on the table. “God damn it! Why do YOU get all the benefits out of this?”
“I didn’t ask for this,” I protested.
Those protests landed on unsympathetic ears when Janice pulled my pants and underwear off, almost with superhuman strength. She ripped her blouse off, pulling out those huge knockers.
“Fuck me like a slut,” she screamed. “Please, I’ll do anything.”
She rose up and turned around, bending over. I couldn’t help but oblige and slid my stiff rod into her soaking vagina.
“Oh, right there,” she whispered. “Right there. All the way in.”
She pushed down, until I could feel her ass on my stomach, my cock deep inside her. She looked at the other two girls in the room. “Don’t worry. It won’t take me long, and then you can have him.”
Karen quickly stripped herself of the rest of her clothes and looked at Phil and Heath. “You guys can watch, but don’t you dare touch. This body is intended for him only. He can use it however he wants.”
“But what about me?” cried Jennifer.
Heath looked at me. “You gonna be able to handle this?”
“Do I have a choice?” I asked.
“No, but since the ladies won’t let us participate, I’m at least going to film it. We need to study this for later.”
“Good idea,” said Phil. “I’ll get my camera, too.”
The girls didn’t seem to mind, but I wasn’t so sure they would have the same attitude about it later. They were a bit drunk on sexual emotions at the moment.
“Don’t you dare pull out,” said Janice, as I began pumping faster. It had been so long since my last release, I felt an explosion coming soon. “Cum in me. I want to feel it!”
Her demand sent me over the edge and unloaded so much that a healthy amounts of sperm splashed out of her pussy while my cock was still in it.
“Me, next!” screamed Jennifer, pulling me off Janice. My dick was still stiff, yet I wasn’t sure it would be able to stay that way after such a large orgasm. Jennifer quickly proved it to be no issue.
She had me laying on the floor, while she straddled me, shifti

Irresistible Johnson: part 1

Wed, 23 Nov 2022 10:38:43 -0600

Irresistible Johnson: part 1 -
Scientific accident gives Brian the perfect penis. (sci-fi).
By AnonymousPerv. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Chapter 1.
My name was Brian Johnson and that name was about to become notorious among the scientific community. I worked on a research team studying the effects of gamma radiation on living tissue and organisms. The research lab I work at is located forty feet underground, for a myriad of safety reasons, even if many thought it went overboard; unnecessarily cautious.
But it’s meatheads like me that validate the needs of such safety protocols. One Saturday morning, while working alone, I accidentally opened a door to a sealed room, one we had purposefully contaminated earlier that week. It was getting cleaned through a new process involving some chemicals, and specific wave-length light pulses. Due to the new installation of this system, some of the original safety services and protocols had been disabled, which allowed me to gain access to the room, unfortunately. I got fully exposed as the alarms went wild.
For the following month, my team repeatedly cleaned the facility and quarantined me to one room in the lab. I was on a high liquid diet and scrubbing myself down daily with chemical soaps and abrasive pads. Vitals were taken several times a day, along with blood work.
Karen Langdon, the facility’s on-hand nurse practitioner, stopped by to visit me in my room near the end of the quarantine. I noticed she no longer was wearing a respirator, so the lab must have tested safe days ago. I was behind a plastic curtain which separated my half of the room to just a bathroom and bedding area.
“You cost us a fortune, Mr. Johnson, you know that?”
“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
Karen was a great medical nurse, every bit as knowledgeable as any general practitioner, probably better than most. She also happened to be a vested partner in the lab, and I think she had that on her mind every bit as much as my health. It was difficult to score research grants and jobs in our field, and a safe laboratory was critical in maintaining them. This mishap wouldn’t go unnoticed, and I felt very badly for having put my coworkers and the company under such stress.
“Well, your vitals are all coming back fine. In fact, you’re in perfect shape. You’ve always been fine with your BMI and weight, but your pulse and blood pressure are better than ever. White blood cell count also better than it was last time you were here. I think you’re lucky.”
“I guess so. Maybe that new cleaning system works better than expected,” I said, hoping. To be honest I was terrified. Often, the effects of radiation aren’t discovered until weeks or months after exposure, organisms developing tumors is common. The only thing that’s noticeable though is white blood cell count being abnormally high almost immediately. I was somewhat relieved to hear the news that mine was fine after a month in quarantine.
“We’re going to let you out tomorrow,” said Karen.
“Yeah, I figure I’ll leave this bag I’ve been living in, just to go out and get fired.”
“That probably should happen, but it won’t,” said Karen. She knew something I didn’t. “You got exposed. We aren’t for a minute going to let you run wild. We have to keep an eye on you. So, for better or worse…”
I dropped my head. “I know, I was careless. If I’m staying on, I’ll do my best to make it up to you, Karen.”
Karen huffed a bit and then said, “Well, I guess that’s the best an attitude we both could have about it. So back to you. Are you positive you haven’t experienced anything strange? No panic attacks? No cold sweats? Heart palpitations? No physical changes? We need complete honesty to understand how we may need to address something.”
I carefully thought about what she was asking. The truth was that ever since the incident, I did feel better than ever, and told the nurse as much. I explained that I always made a point to keep in shape, but I honestly felt like I was in peak condition now, even though I’d been cooped up in this room for the past month. Other than feeling good, I didn’t experience anything else.
“Oh wait, I said. There is one thing,” I said. “I never brought this up before, because it’s kind of embarrassing, and well… I didn’t think it was a big deal. I mean, I’m not even sure if this incident has anything to do with it…”
“Go on, Brian. Just tell me already.”
Karen was behind the partition, but I could sense her impatience.
“Okay, here it is,” I explained. “Normally, my penis hangs like the average guy’s, I guess. I may be just shy of seven inches fully hard, which I think is fine, but soft, the little guy usually just looks like a turtle tucked over my ball sack. There’s not much to it. Anyway, about a week after the incident I noticed it hanging rather low. Like… not half hard, but just hanging. About four or five inches long.”
“Well, Brian, this does sound strange. You’re saying your penis got bigger?”
“Well, when I get erections, I notice it appears to have more girth, but I don’t think it’s much longer. But soft, it just always hangs low now. Other than that, no change in anything. If that’s the worst of this, I’ll take it. Kinda nice, actually.”
“And that’s it. Out of ALL the things that could have happened to you, you just happen to get… what?? A penis that you find more appealing?”
“Well, I didn’t ask for it,” I said. “but I’m okay with that.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you would be.”
I heard the plastic barrier between us come unzipped as Karen entered. She had placed a filter over her nose and mouth, but was otherwise not geared up like usual. I guess they were about ready to let me mingle with them again, as I showed no trace amounts of radiation. I stood up facing her.
“Alright, big guy, let’s see it.”
Excuse me?“ I practically screamed. I didn’t expect a genital exam over it. My word was good enough.
“You’re saying it’s ALWAYS this way? Half hard?”
“It isn’t hard,” I explained. “It’s soft. Completely soft. When it gets hard it just gets stiffer and wider, really, not longer. It also rises, of course.” I felt weird being so blunt with her.
“I don’t want to see it hard,” she said. “Just show me exactly what you mean. Please, drop the pants. It won’t take but a few seconds to get this over with.”
The nurse was speaking pragmatically, as a professional. She seemed annoyed this was my only side effect. Having to inspect a penis from a guy she probably didn’t like very much was unlikely to be appealing to her.
“You can take my word for it,” I said.
“I believe you,” said Karen. “But due diligence. Let me see if I see anything unusual.” She snapped on a pair of rubber gloves.
I sighed and finally dropped my pants, underwear with it. As usual, my cock hung down, easily six inches. It was a look I would be proud to sport at a nude beach, I thought to myself.
Karen paused, just staring. I could tell she was somewhat impressed. Finally, she said, “And you’re like this all the time? Never soft like you used to be? I know what you mean. My ex-boyfriend had a nice looking penis when it was hard, but he was embarrassed of it when it would shrink away. You know we girls don’t really care.”
She was almost blushing. I could barely believe Karen was being so intimate with me, as she didn’t stop looking at my hanging cock. Finally, she knelt down, getting closer, lowering her mask.
“No decolorization or shading?” she asked, looking up at me. It was unusually erotic seeing her face only a foot or so away from my cock and I struggled to keep my thoughts straight.
“I haven’t seen any problems, Miss Langdon. Like I said, it just hangs there all day, all the time, even after… well… you know.”
“Really?” she asked, drawing her eyes back to it. She slowly lifted her left hand and lifted the head of my penis, inspecting the underside of it.
“It doesn’t look like your vessels are stressed. It looks like a regular, healthy penis. Very healthy…” Her voice drifted a bit at the end.
Karen must have only been six inches from it now and looking down at her so close caused an immediate reaction. Blood rushed through my shaft, pulsing my shaft up a couple notches. My penis thickened a touch and I wriggled back from the nurse a bit. “Oh, I am so sorry,” I said.
“Is that normal?” she asked, looking up at me again.
“Well, uh… no,” I said. “Just when… uh… it’s normal, I mean. I just had a reaction, is all.”
“To what?” she asked, looking at me, deadpan, rising off the floor.
“I’m sorry, Miss Karen. Your face was just so close to my penis. I had a normal reaction to it, just like if any woman was that close to it.”
“Any woman?”
“Well, uh… I don’t mean to offend.”
Karen suddenly dropped to the floor again, putting her face close to my cock, but she continued to look right at me in the eye.
“You’re saying ANY woman’s face being close to your penis makes you want to have an erection?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked, both shocked and turned on, as her cheek was now no more than three inches from my shaft, yet she still looked at me, expecting answers. She had to have been teasing me, I thought, yet she looked so serious.
“What I am asking, Mr. Johnson, is this: Would you have had the same response prior to being exposed to the radiation, if some girl’s face was next to your cock?”
“Well, yes, I think so. When a woman is willing to get so close to it, it usually merits that it would be getting hard. I know this is a medical setting, but I just had a reaction is all. I am stating that I was sorry for having that reaction. I don’t think it is something we should be concerned about.”
Finally, Karen took her eyes off me and turned them to my cock. Her nose was practically touching the head of it. I think I even felt her breathing on it. Of course, my reaction was stronger this time. With her being so blatantly sexual, my cock pulsed up in response and punched her in the chin.
Karen Langdon, a woman I knew who really kind of despised me, just allowed my cock to touch her face. This only made my cock get harder and now it was rubbing against her upper cheek as it stiffened up. She slowly looked back up at me, but didn’t move her position, allowing my cock to scrape her skin the whole time.
This time, as she looked up at me, her eyes looked more seductive than a medical professional’s should be. She was breathing a touch fast and said, “Brian, you have a beautiful cock. It’s so beautiful.”
I was flattered. Even though I thought it looked great, her confirming it definitely stroked the ego.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You say your cock hangs like that even after you orgasm?”
My eyes almost popped out of my head, but before I could answer, she grabbed my shaft and forced the head of my cock in her mouth, licking all over. She quickly picked up the pace and weaved my dick in her mouth as it became wetter and wetter. It was as if she made it her mission to extract every drop of cum I had, and I did just that unloading in her mouth. She swallowed loudly as she guzzled as much down as she could manage.
With cum dripping off the edges of her lips, she dropped back, exhausted.
“Oh my god,” she said. “I can’t believe I just did that. Why did I do that?” Her eyes were racing left and right.
“I’m sorry?” I asked. “You started it. Are you okay? I don’t want you to regret anything. I enjoyed that. Thank you.”
I could tell her heart was pounding fast and she looked at me with curled brows. “It was so weird. All I could think of when I saw your penis. I mean from the VERY moment I saw your penis. I wanted to suck it, Brian. I wanted your cum.”
She glanced at my now hanging cock and looked up again frantically.
“I can’t explain it. I needed it so badly. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Wait, you’re saying you had no control over it over wanting it, but you really didn’t want it?”
“I don’t know,” she said, sighing. “I just… it’s like a voice inside me, combined with an insatiable thirst - one I have NEVER felt before, mind you - I just wanted to swallow your cum. I wasn’t even…” her voice trailed off and then she slowly looked up at me. “I always hated the taste of cum.”
“Excuse me?” I asked. I wondered if I should pull my pants up, but I left it there, allowing her to witness that what I had claimed was true; that my cock did hang low even after an orgasm.
Karen finally stood up, straightening her clothes a bit. “Look, we can’t tell anyone this or we would both lose our jobs, but Brian, that was weird. I don’t ever get horny like that. And that’s the thing. I wasn’t even horny. I just had this absolute need to swallow your cum.”
“And you think this may have something to do with the incident?”
“How else to explain it? I’m curious, do you have a girlfriend?”
“Sadly, no.”
“Any friends who are girls?”
“Well, my sister who lives with me. She has friends that come over to the apartment all the time.”
Karen picked up a clipboard.
“I obviously cannot detail what happened today, but if you have the same reaction occur from other women, we need to know.”
I cut her off. “Same reaction? What? You want me to go around flashing people?”
Karen tilted her head and lifted an eyebrow, before coming to her senses. “Well, look, whenever. The thing is IF other women have a reaction like I did… the need to swallow your cum… please come report it. We could get it in your medical records sooner than later. I think it is important to do, but I don’t think we should report what just happened between us. Do you understand what I am saying?”
I finally pulled my pants up and said, “Okay,” when I noticed something uniquely different about Karen. Her face was flush, in fact all of her skin was pink. I wondered if she was running a fever. More noticeable, were the pineapple-sized curves she was displaying under her nurse’s outfit. I’d always thought she was flat.
“Karen?” I asked, looking at her chest intensely. It drew her eyes to them.
“Oh my God,” she said. “No, no, no, no, no!”
She quickly stripped out of the uniform. Her bra did nothing to keep her huge breasts from pouring over them. Nipples and cleavage were everywhere. She unsnapped the bra, sending it flying, exposing what must have been a pair of double dees.
“Oh my, do you think this is from my cum?” I asked, bluntly.
“What else?” she screamed, wide eyed. “Please tell me they stopped growing.”
“I didn’t notice them until you got up. It must have been a very quick surge of growth, like right after you swallowed all that cum.”
Her eyes drifted a bit as she whispered, “And it was so much cum…”
“We’re going to have to tell the team,” I said. “This won’t go unnoticed.” I waved at her new set of knockers. I found them amazing, but it did give her the appearance of a bimbo.
Karen looked at me, defeated. “Alright, so we tell them. All of it. The whole truth.”
“I don’t see why you wanted to lie about it.”
“Brian, look at me. I am going to be frank here.”
“Okay.”
“You’re a physically attractive man, but I am not, by any measure, attracted to you. I’m also kind of your superior here and I do have an occasional boyfriend. I’m sure you have had girlfriends, but you and I are NOT a match. I just don’t like your personality.”
“Don’t hold anything back,” I said, referring to a Seinfeld joke she was probably unfamiliar with.
“When I saw your penis, and remember, I was only examining it for medical purposes,” she stressed, “I didn’t get horny, but I had this incredible urge to swallow your semen. And now this.” She pointed at her tits. “I’m not sure anyone will believe us, but we’re going to need volunteers.”
“Volunteers?”
“Someone else to look at your penis.” Then Karen grabbed her purse, wiped her mouth with a nearby napkin and said as she was leaving, “I’ll be back in an hour with the rest of the team. Be ready.”
It was Phil and Heath who came into my room first, not twenty minutes after Karen had left.
“Holy shit, the cans on her!” cried Phillip.
“It’s kind of fucked up, man,” said Heath. “But they do look pretty good.”
“You saw them?” I asked.
“Well, not naked, but yeah, we saw her new figure,” said Phillip. “Wait. You actually saw them?”
“Uh, yeah, I did, I guess. They’re pretty spectacular.”
I considered Phil and Heath work associates more than friends, but we could be honest to each other. They both barreled in laughter. Still, I could tell Heath was concerned. He’d been studying gamma radiation for years, and never had exposure to it proven beneficial for anyone.
“I have to say, I am a bit worried now about these effects,” he said. “Supposedly, your penis changed shape and now, her breasts. Only after swallowing your semen. It sounds ridiculous, yet we saw the evidence from her.”
“Don’t for a minute think I am going to let you see the evidence from me,” I quickly retorted. “She said the need for my sperm was insatiable. I don’t want men risking that same effect.”
“Hmm, good point,” said Phillip. “But what woman is going to volunteer for this?”
“Oh, I know who,” said Heath. “Janice. The loudmouth atheist we hired last year that works in C lab. Always a skeptic about everything.”
“If someone from our team won’t volunteer, I suppose we could ask,” mumbled Phil, when the rest of the team finally did arrive. Karen, of course, but also Jennifer Hastings and Laura Pine, both married women in their 30s, and both shared a rather plain girl-next-door look.
“So as this information goes up the chain, I would appreciate everyone understanding that what occurred today was NOT meant to break work ethics and rules.” Karen was updating everyone on the events that occurred, while trying to excuse us of any wrongdoing. She continued, “We admit we violated company policies, but please understand it was against our will.”
“Who forced you?” asked Jennifer.
Karen did her best to explain that the compulsion she experienced was one she had no control over, when Jennifer interrupted and pointed at me. “Brian had control, though, didn’t he?”
I suppose I did, only I just now realized it. I willfully engaged in sex while Karen didn’t. I tried to explain myself, but it all looked pretty bad for me. First, I caused this mess and cost the company a fortune in cleanup costs, and then I willfully engaged in sexual acts that breached our code of conduct. I was an idiot, who appeared to not even want to have a job.
“You don’t understand,” I babbled. “One just can’t NOT do that when offered. Wait, I mean, it was a desire for me, too. I mean… insatiable? I guess we could debate that, but…”
Then it hit me. the only way I could defend myself is to cross my fingers and explain it through a demonstration. I immediately dropped my pants, displaying my freshly washed penis in front of everyone. Immediately, the room went silent.
“Oh,” said Jennifer, meekly, after a few seconds had passed. “I think I understand what you mean,” looking over at Karen.
“I know! Isn’t it crazy? You just want to… right?”
“Want to what, though?” asked Laura, stepping closer to my penis.
Phil and Heath looked on at the girls. The two men had also glanced at my junk hanging there, but thankfully it didn’t seem to drive them to strange compulsions like it did with the ladies in the room.
“Did it get hard for you instantly?” asked Jennifer to Karen, as she too, stepped closer to me, and they all were getting down on their knees. Of course, I reacted like any healthy man would and my cock stiffened up like a rocket. Instantly, Jennifer was on it, sucking hard on the head of my cock. Laura grabbed my shaft with her right hand as she stroked it towards Jennifer’s locked lips.
Karen licked her tongue, looking on closely. She then looked at all the men in the room, including me. “I will explain what’s happening here while these two work Brian’s cock. We all apparently are experiencing a need to drink his semen. Something that should be noted is I am not aroused.”
“Me, neither,” said Jennifer, pausing for a breath before opening her mouth wider, allowing me to slide it in further.
“That really is strange,” said Phil to Heath. “How long will it take for you to cum, Brian? Will you be able to provide enough semen for all three?”
“All three?” I gasped, looking down at the scene. “Shouldn’t we get them off me?”
Jennifer’s luscious lips over the head of my cock made my shaft pulse rapidly in Laura’s stroking hands. Laura picked up the pace to pump my hot goo into Jennifer and I couldn’t help but unload for a second time today into her

steamy-stories:Noisy Neighbors: Part 2 The coupling of one of...

Wed, 23 Nov 2022 09:06:30 -0600

steamy-stories:
Noisy Neighbors: Part 2

The coupling of one of the neighbor’s girls.

by JohnJohnson00. Listen to the podcast at Steamy Stories.

I was out with my girlfriends at a nightclub. We were drinking, singing and dancing, having a good time together just like any other night out. I went to the bar by myself to buy another round of cocktails for the four of us and waited for the bartender to notice me. A lot of people were there and a lot of them were taller and louder than me, so I knew it wasn’t even worth trying to stand out from everyone else until some of them had left.

I pulled out my phone from my handbag and opened a snapchat from my boyfriend, Will. He was out with his friends, but in the background of the photo was undoubtedly his ex-girlfriend, Jessica. What was he doing out with her? And why didn’t he let me know she was going beforehand? Trying to stay calm, I went to respond. But before I could, one of the guys at the bar came and sat on the stool next to mine and started talking to me.

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steamy-stories:Noisy Neighbors: Part 1 Woman knocks on door of...

Wed, 23 Nov 2022 07:34:28 -0600

steamy-stories:
Noisy Neighbors: Part 1

Woman knocks on door of noisy neighbor to complain.

By JohnJohnson00 - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Not too long ago, a young man moved into the flat next door. He seemed kind enough. He’d smile and say hello whenever he passed me in the hallway, and once he even helped me carry my groceries up to my flat when one of my shopping bags broke. That’s when he introduced himself as Darren. He’d be a great neighbor if it weren’t for his frequent sessions of passionate lovemaking. I never once saw his partner with him, but every other day, he’d make her shriek in pleasure for well over an hour. It was so distracting, especially since her sounds would make me so hot and bothered every time.

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The Mistress Auction of London

Tue, 22 Nov 2022 21:28:31 -0600

The Mistress Auction of London -
A countess offers her body to the highest bidder. (exhibition)
By LouisaAdler. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Chapter 1.
The Marquess of Ravenswood hated dramatics.
He also loathed crowds, prying eyes, and London. Yet, there he sat, in the very back row of what was surely the most infamous, crowded event in the city’s history. Only one thing could pry him to this cesspool.
The Hellfire Club was having an auction.
Even Ravenswood couldn’t resist that temptation. He shifted in the rickety wooden chair, his large frame unused to such cramped spaces. A growl of impatience left him. “For a gathering that’s supposed to be secret, there are crush of fools here.”
Next to him, Lord Seth Cardew rolled his eyes. “Only you would call two hundred attendees a crush, Will. It’s been almost a year since the last auction, you know. Our membership craves this sort of diversion, even those whose pockets won’t let them bid.”
Will grumbled. Truth be told, he wouldn’t be attending this blasted event, if it weren’t for the letter. Even in the wilds of Yorkshire, he kept up with London’s underbelly. Gossip had reached him, quietly and with the archest of tones, that suggested he might find tonight’s auction particularly interesting. He didn’t dare hope that what he looked for would be on display, however. In the five years since Violet had left him, no woman had tempted him for long. To think one of the women here, willingly selling herself to the highest bidder, would fill that void was ludicrous. He would be a damned, romantic fool to assume such a thing.
Just in case, though…
Just in case, here he was. Dressed like a Christmas goose, in his top hat and tails, and antsy. He’d taken the train down just that morning. “Get on with it,” he growled.
As if bidden by his thoughts, the electric lights dimmed. The audience members, or buyers he supposed, were left in shadows, while the slightly raised stage remained illuminated by a host of white, glowing tapers. A woman stepped out of the gloom and onto the stage. Hers was a serious beauty, made more so by the candlelight. Inky black hair swept back in a chignon, with features as sharp as a hawk, she reminded Will of a governess.
If governesses wore men’s clothing, of course. The mistress of ceremonies was kitted out better than Will. On her tall, slim frame she’d donned black trousers, a perfectly tailored jacket, and gleaming, emerald silk waistcoat. The only nod to her femininity was the bright red stain on her lips.
Will roused a little, intrigued against his will. She wasn’t for him—too sharp, when he’d been spoiled by curves—but he appreciated beauty in all forms.
“Welcome, friends, to The Hellfire Club’s Mistress Auction,” she said in a deep, throaty voice. The room quieted even further. “I am Madame Valerie, purveyor of fine mistresses and the ringleader of this particular circus. We’ll start, as always, with the gold contracts.”
“Bring on the whores!”
She narrowed her eyes at the audience, skewering the interrupter. “These are not whores, sir. The women who take part in this auction are of the highest breeding and class, women who have willingly signed their contracts and are bestowing their talents onto select, respected persons. We vet not only our mistresses, but their protectors.” Her tone suggested the man in question could kiss his luck tonight goodbye. Madame Valerie straightened and continued her introduction. “As I was saying, we’ll start with the gold contracts. For those who are new to our ranks, I will explain.”
“The Hellfire Club color codes our contract levels, each corresponding to a prescribed set of limitations. Gold contracts, the rarest, are entered into very carefully. There are no limits on what you can do, after purchasing a gold contract, aside from inflicting permanent bodily harm. For whatever amount of time she signs on for, the mistress will be under the buyer’s complete control, both sexually and personally.”
“She is, for all intents and purposes, an indentured sexual servant. Though, one who is paid quite handsomely for her time. We start the gold contract bidding first, so that your pockets are filled to her liking. Shall we begin?”
Enthusiastic applause met her questions. With a flick of her wrist, Madame Valerie cued someone offstage and three women filed up the stairs, then into the light. Each was shrouded, from head to toe, in a velvet cloak. Red, green, and white, they looked like Christmas decorations, The Hellfire Club’s sadistic nod to holiday merriment. They stopped behind Madame and bowed their covered heads in unison.
Madame Valerie nodded her head. She smiled, cold and fast. “Very good, girls. Now, Twenty-Two do come forward. We begin with your contract.”
The green-cloaked woman moved forward. Even covered by velvet, her generous body was evident, hips moving in sensuous rhythm with each step. Will stirred, aching for a closer look. That walk. It struck a chord in him, unfurled some long-tamped desire to possess.
His lips twisted in the gloom. What foolishness. Underneath that cloak, she would be like every other woman he’d had. Beautiful, surely, but uninspiring.
As if reading his mind, Madame Valerie reached out one slim hand and untied the other woman’s robe. It fell to the floor in a puddle of emerald.
The audience gasped. Several people around Will flipped through their programs, searching for her information page.
Will started. She was completely nude, save an extravagant green half mask. Tumbling waves of long, dark red hair rioted around her, framing her body with flame. God, what a body. Twenty-Two was all curves. Generous breasts, more than a handful each, sat high above lush hips and an impossibly narrow waist. Will grew hard with just one glance, his cock insisting that he open his wallet, give her whatever she wanted. Anything to take her.
Was her skin really so fair, or was she scattered with light freckles up close, like gold leaf over a canvas? Suddenly, it seemed the most important thing that he find out.
He’d so loved Violet’s freckles.
The hand on his shoulder shocked Will out of his daze. He was half out of his chair, Seth restraining him with a smile. “Patience, Will,” his friend whispered, with a laugh.
Right. The Hellfire Club would have its pomp and circumstance. No matter that Will was the richest man here by a mile, heir to both a dukedom and an American shipping fortune. This girl was already his, no question. Whatever amount of time she was contracted for, Will wanted her. Perhaps she, so like his first love in both coloring and form, would be the one to finally flush that need from his system.
He would pay millions for such peace.
2 Months Ago..
The Countess of Mulvane shivered.
Despite the fires raging in the ballroom, Georgiana was chilled through. Standing naked in a room full of your peers trembled even the most stalwart body. Given her life lately, she wasn’t feeling particularly hardy. What foolishness, to think this would be the easy part.
After agonizing over this decision, the Countess was ready to get on with it. There would be no more worry, simply pure sensation. Meet the man, fuck him madly for six months, then spend the rest of her life free. What a lovely word that was. Free.
Funny, really, that giving in to a stranger’s every sexual whim was her ticket to true freedom. Not only would her sisters be safe from scandal, but little Camille would be set up for life. All for something she enjoyed immensely. Stephen, damn his treacherous soul, had been a terrible husband, but an adventurous lover.
And yet…
Back to Today’s Nude Mistress Auction.
And yet nothing had quite prepared her for this feeling. Lascivious eyes raked over her body. Hundreds of masked and shadowed figures loomed in the darkness ahead of her, making appreciative murmurs of her form. If her mask should slip, all would be lost. The utmost secrecy of the contract was part of what lured her to the Hellfire Club. No one but her lover need know that the Countess of Mulvane had sunk so low. All of Stephen’s failures were overturned, in exchange for half a year of Georgiana’s service.
It wasn’t even a choice. She willed the mask to stay put.
“Please turn around, Twenty-Two,” Madame Valerie ordered.
Georgiana slowly pivoted to the back, conscious of every inch of her body. The audience’s gazed tickled over the flare of her hips, down the swell of her bottom. Only two men had seen her so bare. To think that number was now multiplied a hundredfold, in less than a minute.
Her eyes burned into the masked faces of the two women standing robed, at the back of the stage. The snowy fall of white silk and the bright crimson velvet shimmered in the light. What circumstances had brought them here? Were they desperate to right a wrong, like Georgiana, or merely in search of a few hedonistic thrills? Would that she could see their faces, find solace in their shared experiences. Madame Valerie had kept them in separate rooms, until right before the auction began. Time for one last reflection, the intimidating woman had suggested.
“Our dear Twenty-Two has a generous figure, to be sure.” A cold, slim hand traced the line of Georgiana’s spine. Goosebumps raised along her skin. When she came to her bottom, Madame Valerie squeezed the right cheek in apparent appreciation. “What a magnificent rump you have, lovely one. A man like’s something to hold on to.”
The audience whooped. A room full of aristocrats turned to rowdy schoolboys, with a little nudity and sexual titillation. Madame Valerie pushed at Georgiana’s side, indicating she should turn once more. The woman’s throaty voice continued its examination. “Twenty-Two’s true assets, though, are these breasts.” At that, the mistress of ceremonies came around to the back of Georgiana, arms threading through hers like a lover. The woman’s breath, hot and minty, caressed her neck. Madame Valerie cupped both of the countess’s generous breasts in her hands. “Rare to have breasts so large still be so perky. What do you think, lads? Would we call them melons or grapefruits?”
“Cantaloupes!”
“Honeydews!”
Madame Valerie laughed. “She will certainly do, honey.”
A flush spread across Georgiana. Would the blasted auction never start? She raised her head a fraction, responding to the ribald investigation with hauteur. Her governesses had probably never intended those comportment lessons to land a peer’s daughter here. Georgiana knew the ropes, though. The more they lusted after her, the higher the price. Whatever wicked little tricks Madame Valerie planned, they would drive the final payment higher. Her family was worth a moment's—a lifetime's—humiliation. Just as she finished that thought, Madame took both of her nipples in hand and pinched. Hard.
Georgiana shrieked, taken by surprise more than pain. Sensation flooded her. Heat pooled, low and banked, in her pelvis.
“They’re sensitive, as well. Think what fun might be had with these darlings. I bet our prim little lady would love a set of clamps for Christmas.”
The audience cheered in support. Georgiana shivered, desire ramping up past her defenses. How did Madame Valerie know? Stephen had a pair of clamps made especially for her, gold chain with emeralds winking at each tip. They’d been sold to a discrete buyer, along with everything else of value in Mulvane House. Just like Georgiana herself would soon be sold.
Resolve wrapped around her heart. No.
This was a temporary arrangement. She was selling her body willingly, happily even, but it was hardly the whole of her. Whomever paid for Georgiana’s contract would receive a fool’s bargain. He could have her body any way he wanted, but her soul wasn’t up for grabs. She’d given that away only once and lived to regret it bitterly.
Madame Valerie raked her hands down Georgiana’s body, narrating for the audience, as she went. No mole, no patch of skin was left unviewed. The countess half expected the little majordomo to open her mouth and count each tooth aloud. For the inspection’s finale, Georgiana was turned around once again, back facing the audience, and ordered to bend over. She clasped her ankles and closed her eyes. Cool air wafted over her nether regions.
Oh, for heaven’s sake, Georgiana. Don’t be so missish.
Nether regions, indeed. Her vagina—her cunny, Stephen had called it—was on full display for hundreds of people. Surely she could dismiss the euphemisms now.
Madame Valerie spoke again. “Note the naturally red hair, gentleman. This one is a true ginger beauty.” An elegant finger traced the opening of Georgiana’s slit, which was embarrassingly damp. “See how she glistens? Twenty-Two loves to submit to my whims. A natural pleasure object, as we proved during her training. You should see how she responds to the strap.”
Shame, that useless emotion, flooded through Georgiana. How strange, to have her sexual deviancy discussed in such a cold, logical manner. She would be banished from Mayfair, if it got out that Countess Mulvane enjoyed being defiled in such a way. Yet, it was true. The last few weeks of training for the Hellfire Club had opened her mind to a world of sexual possibilities. Stephen had been dominant, yes, but he was the Pope compared to Mistress Valerie. Worse yet, Georgiana had enjoyed every moment. The darker the act, the more intense her pleasure.
As if reading her mind, Madame Valerie began a rhythmic exploration of Georgiana’s folds. The majordomo stroked up her pussy lips, around her clitoris. Up and down. Back and forth and—
“Oh, God.” Georgiana couldn’t control the invocation. Her body was alive with sensation. Nipples pebbled, muscles twitched, with the glorious motions.
“Such a vocal little thing. Enjoying yourself, Twenty-Two?”
“Yes. Oh, yes.”
Slap. Madame hit her bottom, open-handed. “Yes, what?”
The weeks of training jogged Georgiana’s memory. Her voice was thready with desire. “Yes, Madame Valerie.”
“That’s better.” The mistress plunged a finger into Georgiana’s opening, drawing circles with her thumb over the nearby clitoris. A second finger soon followed.
Georgiana groaned in response. Heavens, that was good. So terribly, horribly good.
“Do you want to come, little one?”
“Y-yes, Madame Valerie.”
“Say it. Tell these people what your naughty little body wants. Tell them exactly how bad you can be, despite those angelic curves.”
“I want to come, Madame Valerie. Please keep doing that with your hands.”
Slap. “Doing what exactly?”
“Playing with my c-cunt, Madame.” The words burned through Georgiana. Humiliation warred with desire. Desire won, desperate and hot. Just a little more. “I like it when you fill my cunt with your fingers and stroke my clitoris. Would you go a little faster, please, Madame?”
Slap. Slap. Thwack. A flurry of strokes rained down on Georgiana’s upturned bottom. Pain twined with pleasure, white hot and sharp. Madame obliged the pleas, though, her hands working furiously at Georgiana’s clit. Spanks alternated with strokes. Sensation overcame the countess, her cries dancing in the air.
Oh, it hurt. God, it felt so, so—
Georgiana climaxed, with a shout. The release washed over her in a storm of pleasure, twitching her muscles and firing each nerve, like a cannon. When she finally regained her senses, Georgiana quietly said the final words of her training. “Thank you, Madame Valerie.”
Another slap to her bottom. “You’re quite welcome, Twenty-Two. Stand up and turn around.”
Doing as bidden, Georgiana faced the audience once again. A drop of sweat whisked down her spine. The front row of spectators watched her with obvious desire on every face, mouths agape. Her humiliation was worth it in the end, as Madame promised.
The Countess of Mulvane had orgasmed in front of a room full of people. Next, she would secure her future. On cue, Madame Valerie gave the last signal. Georgiana fell to her knees, head bowed. And so the auction began.
“That was quite a show, wasn’t it? Imagine what a woman like this could become with a bit more training. We’ll start the bidding at one thousand pounds, my lords.”
A voice, deep and hideously familiar, rent the silence. “Five hundred thousand pounds.”
“Sold to—” Madame Valerie paused, as if shocked into silence. “My, my. The Marquess of Ravenswood.”
The words fell on Georgiana like an anvil. Oh no.
No, no, no.
Georgiana’s head snapped up, willing her ears to be malfunctioning. There at the bottom of the stage, stood a man. He was a little broader than she remembered—the country exile did wonderful things for his already muscled physique—but the sandy blond hair and penetrating brown eyes were achingly familiar. The Marquess of Ravenswood had just purchased her contract. She was to be Will Thorne’s sexual plaything.
All was lost.
By LouisaAdler for Literotica

About Birds and Nests: part 2

Tue, 22 Nov 2022 19:56:30 -0600

About Birds and Nests: part 2
Stefan’s new bed.
by CichyPiotr. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Chapter 3: Stefan keeps fucking me.
The next day Stefan woke me up in the morning. I looked at my watch and it was fifteen past seven. I realized that I would not make it to the first morning lecture. Attendance was not obligatory. However, I had to be on time for the 10 o'clock because there were some exercises where the attendance was obligatory.
I got up quickly and went to the bathroom. I looked at myself for the first time knowing that I was already a woman. I looked between my legs and saw that my slit was pink. With no more time left I washed up and got ready to go to the university where I spent most of the day.
In the evening I got another message from Danuta asking me if anything had changed. I wrote about the fact that I let him have intercourse. I told her that I was no longer a virgin. Danuta could not hide her surprise at how quickly things had turned out for me. I told her that he had taken care to protect me and to make it as painless as possible.
If it goes on like this, it will only be a matter of time before you tear the rubber off him and give yourself to him completely. You have probably figured that out by now, too,“ said Danuta laughing at the very end of the conversation.
’‘We are careful about that. You don’t have to worry about it,” I told her.
“Sure. Take care and have fun,” said Danuta and then we ended the conversation.
After this conversation I sat down on the sofa in the living room and looked at my watch. Stefan was finishing his work in an hour so I had a moment to myself. I slipped my hand under my panties. I started to touch myself on my pussy taking advantage of the fact that I was alone. After a while I slid down my pants and panties making it easier to access my pussy. I lay back and rubbed my finger along my pussy wanting to bring myself to orgasm. I imagined Stefan standing over me with his member tightened. His entire member slides into me and then fucks me until he comes. Then I realized that I hadn’t thought of putting a rubber band on again. This made me very excited and I climaxed right away.
After a while, when I was already out of the climax phase, a familiar voice sobered me up.
“Are you having fun?” Stefan asked me standing next to me.
“You’re here already?” I asked surprised, instinctively covering my vagina.
“I left earlier. I can see that you missed me,” said Stefan with a smile on his lips.
“I…” I stammered in his presence.
“You don’t have to hide yourself from me,” said Stefan and pulled my hand away, which was covering my slit, and then he added “You are too beautiful to hide it, baby.”
Stefan leaned down and kissed me on the mouth and went to wash up. After a while I got up and got dressed. Stefan and I then ate dinner together and spent a while on the couch cuddled up in front of the TV. I started to cuddle up to him and kissed him on the lips. I put my hand on his pants and started rubbing against them.
“I think you feel like having fun again, don’t you?” Stefan asked.
“I would like to,” I replied and then added “but not here.”
I grabbed his hand and got out of bed. I took him to my room. I put him on the bed and started to undress. I took off my shirt and shorts and stood naked in front of him. Stefan also undressed and freed his already erect member from his briefs.
I lay down next to him on the bed. Stefan got down to business and, just like the previous times, he started by licking my little pussy. He did this until I climaxed. As usual, I needed a while to recover. In the meantime Stefan got up and took the condom.
I watched as he pulled the condom over his member again. In some ways I was beginning to regret that he was doing this. I was more and more curious what it would feel like if he entered me without it. I wanted it more and more with each passing moment, but sanity held sway so as not to lose control.
Stefan lay down on top of me and put his member into my slit. This time he penetrated much easier than yesterday. There was no more pain, only pleasure. We looked into each other’s eyes as he rhythmically fucked me. I could see the desire in his eyes. After a few moments I began to feel that the member thrusting in my slit was bringing me closer to my orgasm. I started to moan louder and louder at which Stefan sped up and kept going deeper and deeper. Eventually his member began to thrust against the back wall of my vagina. With each thrust I shuddered and in no time I climaxed. I drifted off again for a while.
After a short while I came back to myself, and Stefan, having been impaled as deeply as possible, stood still. I lay there involuntarily as he looked at me proudly. Then he kissed me.
“I am glad that you have come,” said Stefan and then added “Now it is my turn.”
Right after that, Stefan pulled out almost his whole member. Only the head was still inside my slit. After that, Stefan pushed his whole member in, which made me moan loudly. He started repeating this until he brought his mouth close to my ear and announced that he was about to come.
I was curious if, like last time, he was going to come out and cum on my pussy or tits. Maybe I would swallow all his semen again. I thought about it for a while. I saw a familiar grimace on his face. This time, however, his member instead of leaving my insides went in as deep as possible. Once again it hit the back wall of my pussy and I felt it swell even more. It felt like it was about to explode. I saw Stefan, with his eyes closed right above me, experiencing his orgasm. But after a while he opened his eyes and fell on top of me. I felt that his penis stopped twitching and started to shrink after a while. Stefan started to slide out of my pussy and I saw that his member was no longer fully swollen. There was a rubber hanging from it which was filled with his semen at the tip. He pulled it off and handed it to me.
“If it weren’t for the rubber, it would all be seeping into your cervix,” said Stefan, pointing at my pussy and adding “That’s how babies are made.”
I lay there for a while staring at the used condom held in my hand. That semen could now be inside me and fertilize me. Just the thought of it made me shiver. After a while I poured the contents of the condom on my slit and began to rub it in intensely.
“Be careful, because if even a drop gets inside, it is possible to get pregnant,” said Stefan holding my hand, stopping me from rubbing in the semen.
I just nodded and lay down on my side. Stefan got up and started getting his clothes.
“Where are you going?” I asked him as he stood in the doorway.
“Downstairs,” - answered Stefan.
“From now on you and your little friend sleep here,” I answered him looking at his shrunken member and pointing to the other side of the bed.
“Good choice,” said Stefan and jumped into bed next to me.
Chapter 4: First Time ‘bareback’.
From now on, we spent every night together. They were filled with joy and happiness resulting from our mutual amusement. I didn’t reveal this to anyone except Danuta. I could trust her to keep her mouth shut. I told her about how our relationship was going. She didn’t mind. What’s more, she was happy that I opened myself up to the world of erotic sensations. Our relationship was based on living together and satisfying each other’s needs without much emotional involvement.
We passed the days and weeks like that. Every night we gave each other orgasms. Stefan provided me with fresh portions of his semen, and I eagerly accepted them. Over time I came to understand that diet affected the taste of semen. I also learned to concentrate on swallowing it as quickly as possible. I was both fed and showered with sperm. My breasts, my belly and my little pussy could count on a nightly shower. But we were careful. Each time we used condoms so that not a drop would get inside. We were just casual lovers sharing an apartment, and we didn’t want to take even the slightest risk of getting pregnant.
One Friday after work, Stefan had a meeting with some colleagues from work. He told me not to wait for him because he would be late. So after dinner I went to bed and before going to sleep I made myself comfortable with my hand. This made it easier for me to fall asleep.
A few hours later I was awakened by the sound of the door to my… our room. Lying on my side I opened my eyes slightly and saw that it was Stefan taking off his clothes. Before getting into bed he went to the bathroom. After a while he came back and, dressed in pajamas, lay down next to me. I could see and smell that he was drunk. However, the smell was not unpleasant for me and I easily fell asleep in his presence.
Some time later I woke up and felt that Stefan was cuddled up to me. I could also feel his engorged manhood on my thigh. I felt a growing desire to play tricks on him. It would be a shame not to take advantage of the opportunity when his member was ready for play. I reached into the drawer in the dresser next to the bed. I took out one condom. I removed the foil from it and then turned towards Stefan. It looked like he was still asleep. I figured he wouldn’t mind if I played a little with his swollen cock. Anyway, looking at him I knew there was a chance he would sleep through the whole thing and not remember anything. Alternatively, he would have a very pleasant awakening. Not wanting to wake him up I pulled down the quilt and reached my hand towards his penis. I started to put a condom on his penis. I had become quite skilled all this time so it was a formality for me. After putting the rubber on, Stefan lay down on his back. His eyes were still closed. He must have been a really strong sleeper.
Since Stefan was lying on his back, I assumed the rider position. This was the most comfortable way to insert his penis into my slit. I was extremely curious about his reaction after waking up if he saw me riding his cock. Without delay I slid lower and lower so that his penis slowly went deeper and deeper. Finally it went all the way in. Then I started to raise and lower my thighs to continuously stimulate my partner’s member. I noticed that Stefan started to purr quietly. Nevertheless, he was still in his dream. I didn’t mind as long as I could rub against his swollen member.
A few moments later I felt that his penis was no longer so hard. I was surprised because I was sure he hadn’t come yet. This had never happened to us before. Apparently this was due to the alcohol Stefan had consumed with his friends. Usually at the end Stefan comes, his member first swells up and twitches for a while. This time, however, it simply began to soften earlier. In this situation it was impossible to continue riding him. I lifted my hips a little, thanks to which the now flaccid member slid out. I looked at the penis and noticed that the condom had almost completely slipped off. Only the head of my partner’s penis was covered. The entire shaft was free of the rubber sheath. Without changing position, I grabbed the shaft and began to rub it lightly, hoping that it would harden again. A dozen or so movements later I noticed that it was working and Stefan’s penis was swelling. Then it was time to slide the condom back over the entire length of his penis.
But then Stefan started to move again. He wanted to lie down on his side. He succeeded, and I slid to my left side and then to my back. In the meantime I released his member. He was still tense and the condom was still only on the head of his penis. I reached out again to slide the condom on, but Stefan moved again. This time he moved even further to the side and lay down on top of me. His member, which was only partially covered by the condom, rubbed against my pubic area. I moaned in surprise.
Stefan started making frictional movements while still in a sleep. Finally, when I grabbed the rubber band I managed to pull it up a little. Without being aware of it, I also guided his penis towards my slit. The next time he tried to thrust, the head of his member slid into my slit. This made me moan and I lost my balance. I fell on the bed. Stefan continued to do his thing and slid his member even deeper. I made one more attempt to grab and pull the rubber. I was aware that if it was not completely on, it might slip off.
It was hard to catch it when my partner wouldn’t stop fucking me. Fortunately, each time he pulled out almost his entire member. This gave me a chance to finally grab the rubber. I made another attempt to pull on the condom. However, the condom slid down instead of sliding onto his penis and stayed in my hand. Stefan continued to fuck me and after a while I realized that this was not how it was supposed to happen.
For the first time I had a penis inside me without a rubber. I could feel its heat and its shape. It was such an intense sensation that I could not even move. I only received successive waves of pleasure, which quite quickly made me climax. I had never had such an intense orgasm before. After a while I came back to myself and Stefan who was still fucking me. I felt his penis swell. This time, thanks to the fact that there was no rubber, I could even feel the veins on his penis. His penis also began to tremble and before I had time to react I saw him thrusting into me and then stopping. This time he pushed in even deeper than last time. I had the impression that the tip had broken through the back wall of my vagina.
I saw the perfectly familiar grimace on Stefan’s face. I knew it was the beginning of his orgasm. Surprised by the flood of new sensations, I lay back without even trying to stop Stefan. His penis began to pulsate and I felt the semen pouring in even past the back wall of my vagina. After a while I felt that there was even more semen pouring into me. Knowing this made me climax again. It was irrelevant to me at that moment that the semen was flooding my slit because I was for a moment in orgasmic paradise. After a while I came back to myself and realized that Stefan’s member had stopped pulsating. This meant that his orgasm was over. Stefan’s penis began to slowly shrink. I started to feel that my slit was very wet inside. Much more than usual.
A few moments later Stefan’s cock shrank so much that it slid out of my pussy. Immediately I felt that the semen was slowly leaking from my vagina. Stefan, unaware of what had happened, lay down on his side still asleep. He was unaware that for the first time his semen got a chance to impregnate me. I was still lying on my back. I saw that I was still holding the condom in my hand. I let it go and touched my slit. It was very wet on the outside. I could also feel that it was much wetter inside. As I kept lying down it was slowly coming to me what had just happened. I had just experienced real sex for the first time. There was no protection. It was much more intimate and carnal.
After a while, I finally decided to get up from the bed. After I sat up, I felt that even more fluid started to circulate inside my slit than just before. I put my finger to my pussy and felt more semen seeping out. I was amazed at how much more must be inside. I saw that the leaking liquid was starting to soak the sheet. I put my hand to my slit and got out of bed. I felt the semen moving around inside again. I could feel it swimming inside me with every step. On the way to the bathroom more drops were dripping onto my hand.
When I entered the bathroom I sat down on the toilet and felt more drops dripping from my slit. After a while I put my fingers to it and opened my labia. I heard even more drops dripping into the bowl. After a while I got up and stood in front of the mirror. I put one foot on the toilet to have better access to my slit. More drops continued to drip from my vagina. I put a finger inside and felt that the walls of my vagina were completely soaked. I tried to insert my finger as deep as possible. I felt that it was present along the entire length of my entire slit. I started to scrape out more drops from the inside but with time I realized that it was pointless. The semen had gotten so deep that I didn’t have a chance to reach it.
It occurred to me that somewhere deep inside me there was a lot of his sperm trying to impregnate me. The thought that I might get pregnant shook me to the core. I was jittery and needed a moment to calm down. I calmed myself with the thought that it wasn’t that easy to get pregnant. Some people try for many months. The chances are pretty slim that after one time I got knocked up. His cum was inside me and there was nothing I could do at that moment. I went back to bed and after a while I managed to fall asleep.
Chapter 5: Do I Love Him?
The next morning I woke up alone in bed. Stefan had to get up early and come downstairs. After a while I felt that my slit was still wet. Not like at night, because probably some of the semen had already flowed out. The rest had probably already soaked in for good. I got out of bed to go pee. But I stepped on a rubber that had been lying there since I dropped it there yesterday. I grabbed it in my hand and decided it was better to throw it away. I didn’t know if Stefan had seen it. I didn’t know if he knew that we had sex and most importantly that he had flooded me with his semen.
On the way to the bathroom I didn’t meet Stefan. He must have been downstairs. I looked in the mirror and paused for a moment. I saw in the reflection a girl… a woman holding the rubber band she had ripped off her partner last night. I couldn’t believe the transformation I had experienced. Suddenly the door opened and Stefan walked in. I turned to him and he came up and kissed me.
“I think I had a bit too many drinks last night,” said Stefan and then he added, looking at the condom I was still holding in my hand, “But it wasn’t a problem for you.”
“I couldn’t help myself,” I said.
“I’m glad you remembered about the condom,” said Stefan.
“I am responsible,” I said.
“I know,” nodded Stefan, then he came up and put his arms around my waist from behind.
We both stood facing the mirror. We looked like husband and wife who could not live without each other. The age difference was not important at that moment. Holding me like that, Stefan started talking to me.
“Can you tell me a little more about what happened yesterday?” Stefan asked and added with a smile, “I must have slept through it.”
“Do you really want to know?” I asked shortly.
“I want to know how my darling was playing,” said Stefan and kissed me on the cheek.
“You were lying on your back and I was riding you” I said.
“Good choice. You had everything under control” Stefan complimented me.
We were still standing together cuddled up, and I felt on my buttock that Stefan’s penis was slowly coming to life. Talking about yesterday was starting to turn him on.
“I was the one pulling the strings…” I said and then pressed my lips together for a moment.
“Are you sure there’s something you don’t want to tell me?” said Stefan, who saw that I wasn’t telling him the whole truth.
“When I was riding you, you went soft,” I said.
“I had no control over it,” said Stefan.
“I had no complaints. After a while you were hard again, and then you lay down on top of me… and then you started to fuck me,” I said with obvious excitement in my voice.
“Did you like it?” asked Stefan, starting to squeeze me more and more. I could also feel that his member was getting even more stretched.
“Yes,” I answered and I felt that I was getting hot.
“Have you climaxed?” Stefan kept asking me.
“I did it twice,” I said and blushed.
“You must have been extremely horny. What turned you on so much,” Stefan asked again.
“Your domination and the fact that I wouldn’t be able to get off if I wanted to,” - I answered, deliberately not mentioning the rubber.
“And how did it end?” asked again Stefan
“You came inside my… in the rubber,” I quickly corrected myself hoping that I had not betrayed myself with that.
“The rubber was empty. What did you do with the semen from the condom?” Stefan asked.
“I swallowed it,” I said after a short while and then added with an ironic smile, “I must be getting used to it.”
“Swallowed it? You must have licked the condom, because there is no trace of cum in it,” said Stefan, amazed.
“Nothing can be wasted,” I said smiling.
“You don’t even know how it turned me on,” said Stefan, and his hands moved down to my waist. He squeezed me again tightly after a while.
“But I can feel it on my buttocks,” I told him.
Stefan, still holding me tightly by the

About Birds & Nests

Tue, 22 Nov 2022 18:22:25 -0600

About Birds & Nests.
My New Kind of Roommate…
by CichyPiotr . Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
As usual, I went to the university in the morning. It was cloudy and rainy. Although the weather was not good, it did not discourage me. As a 20-something girl I was positive about life and believed that the best was yet to come.
When I was coming home in the evening and approaching my bus stop, I noticed a police car and an ambulance. After getting off the bus I saw that there were two policemen standing in front of my house and the entrance was covered with some kind of tape.
I sped up and approached the policemen.
“Sorry, you can’t go through here now” - said one of the policemen firmly.
“But I live here. What’s going on?” - I asked anxious.
I was asked to show my identity document. When I did that one of the policemen came outside and the other one told me to wait for a while.
After literally two minutes two men came out of my house. One was the policeman I had just seen. The other one was not dressed in uniform and started to explain to me what was really going on.
I found out from him that my parents were dead. They died in an auto accident that took place a few streets away. At that moment I stood up, not believing what this man was saying. But he was telling a truth that I could not accept. It was a moment in which I did not know what to do. Suddenly I was an orphan and I would have to live with that. I was not ready for that. I hadn’t considered that possibility for the time being. But I had no choice but to do something.
The financial situation was not too good either. It turned out that the insurance that my parents used did not cover death in a traffic accident. As a result, I was left with only the money that was in their bank account. The amount of money may have been quite considerable, but as time went by I realized that there were still some costs I had to cover. The funeral arrangements are not free and will take up a large portion of those funds.
My best friend Danuta supported me as much as she could in this difficult situation. She even moved in with me so I wouldn’t have to be alone. After the funeral, I realized that I would not have enough money for very long. Together with Danuta we looked for a way out of this situation. Finally we came to a conclusion that the only sensible solution is a roommate. So we put out an ad and soon afterwards the first answers came.
Only men applied. Most of them were not serious and gave some inappropriate proposals. It disgusted us so much that we added a note that we wanted a female roommate. Unfortunately, it did not change anything and only men of different age answered. After a few conversations we realized that we had to choose from what we had. Time was pressing, especially since it turned out that Danuta got a proposal to study in another city, which would be a great opportunity for her to further develop.
We invited for an interview a 35-year-old man who lived in the suburbs and wanted to be closer to work. His name was Stefan. Together with me, of course, was Danuta to help me in the interview. After a short conversation we came to an agreement that until I found a job he would cover the financial obligations. In return I would be responsible for the house. We agreed that there are no improper agreements and we are only roommates. Stefan agreed to the terms and paid the rent for the current month first, as we had agreed.
Stefan was a tall and well-built guy. He worked as a financial analyst at a company that was only a few stops from home. He would cover the rent. I will be able to continue my education in peace. Thanks to that, in the future I would have a well-paid job and a happy life.
For the first week the three of us lived together. Stefan turned out to be a normal and calm guy. There was nothing in his behavior that could seem to be wrong. Danuta and I felt that we had made the right decision. Even the fact that he had to sleep on a fold-out and rather uncomfortable couch didn’t seem to be a problem for him.
Eleven days later Danuta had to leave. We said goodbye cordially and promised each other that we would keep in touch.
The next day I had two lectures cancelled and I could come back three hours earlier. I opened the door with the key and saw that my jacket and suitcase were standing in the hallway. As I was about to enter the living room, I saw that Stefan was lying on the bed and had his hand near his crotch. After a moment I noticed that he was moving his hand while holding his penis.
Even though I was in my early twenties, this was the first member I had ever seen. I lived in the conviction that learning was the most important thing and would allow me to live a prosperous life. The time for relationships and starting a family would still come for me. Therefore, I did not look for a boyfriend.
Back to Stefan on the bed. I realized that he was masturbating. He was using the fact that I was out of the house to satisfy his needs. I stood like that for a while until his hand stopped moving and his semen shot out of the tip. Stefan looked like he was very relieved after the semen spurted out of his member. After a moment he stood up briskly to reach for a tissue. Without thinking much I took a quick step away to the bathroom hoping that he did not notice me.
For the rest of the day, Stefan did not say anything about that situation. So I had the impression that he did not notice me. In the evening, when Stefan went for a run, I called Danuta. I told her about what had happened today when I got home from class.
“That is quite normal. Everybody has to satisfy themselves sometimes,” - said Danuta laughing.
“Not necessarily,” - I answered her.
“On the other hand it is probably better that he did not ask you for help. Unless you haven’t mentioned it yet, hmm”, - Danuta added.
“Stop it. It’s disgusting.” - I answered my friend.
“You don’t even know how wrong you are. And just like everyone else you will find out one day.” - said Danuta and then we finished talking about it because Stefan came home.
In the evening I prepared sandwiches for dinner. I am not a master chef and I still have to learn how to cook. We ate, sat down in front of the TV and talked in the living room.
“How was college?” - Stefan asked me trying to start a conversation.
“Fine,” - I answered shortly.
“I was taking some time off to relax at home”. - said Stefan.
“I know… I mean I guess”, - I corrected myself.
“You saw how I… I was relieving myself”, - said Stefan with a smile.
“No… I mean yes, but… “, - I started to stutter out of nervousness.
“Don’t worry. It is not unusual. Everyone has to relieve themselves sometimes”, - Stefan said.
“I don’t…” - I said, feeling that this conversation was becoming more and more embarrassing for me.
“Come on. You have never”, - Stefan started to say.
“No. That’s disgusting”. - I interrupted and got up from the table. I went to my room to calm down.
After a while I read an SMS from Danuta. She asked me how things were going with Stefan. I wrote her about what happened after dinner. Danuta wrote back that I shouldn’t exaggerate. At the end she added: “Actually, he could also satisfy your needs if you asked him ;) if you know what I mean”. That last sentence encouraged me to think about it.
Danuta might be right. Stefan was doing it expecting to be alone. I think I reacted too impulsively to what my roommate said. For me it is a taboo subject. Still, my behavior was inappropriate. I should have talked to him more calmly about what took place.
I went downstairs. Stefan was still sitting in front of the TV. I sat down next to him and started talking.
“I’m sorry for my behavior. I reacted too impulsively. I don’t talk about these things with almost anyone”, - I explained my behavior.
“I understand. I didn’t know you had such an attitude. I respect that”, - Stefan said.
“I am happy”, - I answered with a short smile on my lips.
“If you want to talk about these things, you can do it with me, you know”, - suggested Stefan.
“What?” - I asked surprised
“Eh… About birds and bees and satisfying your needs” - Stefan explained.
I remembered what Danuta had written to me. If I asked him, he could satisfy my needs. I don’t know what that means, but maybe it would be worth finding out. Of course, just to satisfy my curiosity and thirst for knowledge.
“Do you know much about it?” - I asked slightly abashed.
“Enough so that you know how it works” - Stefan answered and then added, - “If you want, I can explain everything to you.”
“But… we won’t…. you know…”. - I said, very confused.
“Relax. Just what you want to know”. - said Stefan.
After a short hesitation I agreed to his proposal.
“First of all, you must know that this is not a taboo subject and that it concerns all of us. The sooner you find out, the better for you. I don’t have to tell you about the basics of anatomy, do I? - Stefan finished his short introduction.
“I know - I answered shortly.
“Girls have nests, men have birds. Have you seen a bird before?” - Stefan asked.
“When you relieved yourself.” - I answered.
“Good. Now I will show it to you so that you can see it close up", said Stefan and pulled down his pants and briefs.
I saw his member lying between his legs, with some hair around it. His testicles were hanging below him.
“It may not be the most beautiful part of the male body but it is the most sensitive. Now it is in a state of partial rest. But when you stimulate it, it hardens and swells up,“ Stefan explained.
“And then what?” - I asked.
“It is ready for procreation or intercourse. But you don’t have to worry about that now,” said Stefan.
Then he took my hand and brought it closer to his penis.
“Don’t be afraid. You can touch it,“ said Stefan, and my hand touched the tip of his cock.
Stefan moved my hand lower to the tip of his penis. I grabbed a handful of his penis, which was warm and growing in my hands. It grew so tight that after a while it stood completely.
Then, still holding my hand, he began to move it up and down. The skin on his member began to move, alternately covering and uncovering the tip of his member. After a short while, Stefan let go of my hand. He asked me to continue moving my hand. It did not take long before I saw a grimace of pain on Stefan’s face. Before I could ask if I was doing something wrong a trickle of semen shot out of his penis, which after a while fell onto my hand. More spurts shot upwards and fell on both my hand, my wrist and Stefan’s thighs.
“This is how you brought me to orgasm and I was able to relieve myself” - he said with obvious relief in his voice and then handed me a tissue to wipe myself off.
“Does that have to be so gross?” - I asked, wiping my hand of his semen.
“Not necessarily. It’s a matter of getting used to it. One day you will understand how pleasant it can be.” - Stefan explained.
“Aha… And this is how you relieve yourself?” - I asked.
“Yes, when I am alone. There are other methods in company. Including some that relieve both partners.” - Stefan said.
“Is there anything I can do to… relieve myself?” - I asked.
“Of course. But you have to have direct access to your clit,” said Stefan.
“What do you mean?” - I asked.
“You have to take off that thing that covers it… You’re not ashamed, are you?” - Stefan asked at the end.
“I’ve never taken my clothes off in front of a boy”, - I said.
“Otherwise I won’t show you how to relieve yourself, right?” - Stefan asked rhetorically.
I knew that he was right. I took off my pants and my panties and put them on the pillow next to me.
“You have a very nice little nest. Bring your hand closer and touch it,” - said Stefan, so I did.
As he instructed, I started to move my hand over the nest. I started to feel warm. I looked at Stefan in the meantime and saw that his member was swollen again. After a while, I started to massage my own little nest faster and faster. At that moment I realized that this could be a really great pleasure.
“It’s very pleasant. I have never felt anything like it”, - I said.
“Yes, you can satisfy yourself when you are alone”, - answered Stefan, and then he added - “but when you are not alone, there are other possibilities.”
Stefan without warning put me on the bed and put his head close to my pussy. Before I could say anything I felt his tongue licking my clit. It was a new even more intense sensation. After a while his tongue moved from top to bottom and back again. He was licking my nest like a lollipop and I started to moan with pleasure for the first time. My partner didn’t stop until I finally felt the pleasure rush through me. I felt blissful for a moment, as if I had flown away and was in paradise. After a while, however, this feeling began to fade and I came to myself.
I looked at Stefan who was on his knees and was moving his hand over his swollen member. As I was coming to myself, I did not have the strength to say a single word and I only admired his movements. After a while I saw the grimace on his face again. This time I knew what it meant. He directed his penis so that it was just above my pussy and the semen landed on my pubic area right after it shot out. I could feel the warmth of his seed as it slowly flowed down my clit.
“I hope you don’t mind. You are too beautiful to resist”, - said Stefan.
“That was good “.- I replied him.
“I am glad”, - said Stefan and reached for the tissues.
Stefan took the handkerchief and put it close to my pussy to wipe off the semen that was dripping down it. Instinctively, however, I pushed his hand away and took a bit of the warm white liquid on the tip of my finger. Stefan just stared blankly as I brought my finger to my lips. I smelled it and realized that it didn’t smell very good. Nevertheless, I licked my finger and felt the salty and bitter taste. A grimace of disgust appeared on my face, which Stefan also noticed.
“This is not very tasty”, - said Stefan, wiping my clit clean of the rest of his semen.
“It is disgusting”. - I replied with a tasteless grin.
“It is also a matter of getting used to it”, - he said and after my cunt had been wiped, he added - “That is enough of this fun for today. I am stopping you because tomorrow you also have to get up.”
I put on my panties and shorts and went upstairs to sleep.
The next day I had to get up early in the morning to make it to the university. I was in a very good mood. I felt more relaxed than usual. Apparently it was all because of what I had experienced last night.
Stefan was at work that day until evening. So I had time to talk calmly with Danuta about what happened yesterday. When I told her that Stefan had given me some lessons yesterday, she was clearly pleased.
“If I had known it was so great, I would not have held back so long”, - I told my friend.
“I told you… This is the power of orgasm - Danuta answered me and then added - Now it is only a question when you will spread your legs for him.
“What will I do?” - I asked Danuta.
“I have a feeling that if you continue to explore the world of intimate pleasures, it is just a matter of time when he will tear you apart”, - and then she added with a snicker - “as long as there are no children out of it”.
“Don’t exaggerate. We… I did it just for the pleasure - I told Danuta.
“It always starts like that. And it ends with a loss of control and a growing belly. Take care of yourself dear - said Danuta and then we ended the conversation.
After the end of the conversation I felt that my pussy was hot. Apparently the conversation with Danuta made me so hot. So I pulled down my panties and just like yesterday I started to massage my pussy. In the meantime I was thinking about Stefan and his swollen member. I began to think about what would happen if I let him have intercourse with me. What it would be like if he were to devirginize me tonight. Unexpectedly, I climaxed quickly and felt a long-awaited relief. After a while I came to my senses and got dressed.
Stefan came home from work tonight and after dinner we spent time talking on the couch in front of the TV again.
“After yesterday I felt great today”, - I told him, referring to yesterday’s climax.
“It felt good to me too. Besides, you saw it yourself”, - answered Stefan and then suggested, - “Would you like to do it again today?”
“Why not?” - I answered without hesitation.
I did not have to tell Stefan twice. He pulled down his pants and boxers so that his already swollen member was visible to me. Then he helped me to pull down my pants and panties. Just like yesterday we were both undressed from the waist down. After a while he grabbed my shirt and asked if he could take it off. Without thinking I nodded affirmatively. After a while my shirt went over my head and landed next to me on the couch. I was already only in my bra and he was in his shirt. That didn’t last long because Stefan took off his shirt and for the first time I saw him completely naked. I saw that his gaze was directed at my breasts. I felt that it was only a matter of time before he asked me to take it off. After a moment of hesitation I turned away from him giving him a clear signal that he could unhook my bra. He read the gesture instantly and took advantage of it. My bra was pulled down by him and for the first time Stefan could admire my breasts.
“You look beautiful, baby”, - said Stefan.
It was the first time he had called me that caressing name and I actually liked it. It was a sign that he was starting to really like me. I started to feel the same way. Stefan laid me down on the bed and, just like yesterday, brought his head close to my crotch. Once again his tongue brought me to an orgasm, after which I had to recover for a while.
Just like before, Stefan was kneeling on the bed masturbating. He wanted to douse me with his semen just like yesterday. But when he got closer to that moment, he directed his penis at my breasts. This time it was my breasts that were covered with semen. When Stefan finished coating my breasts, I started to massage them. I rubbed them as if I wanted to rub his semen into my skin. Stefan just smiled and lay down next to me, satisfied.
“You are fantastic”, - Stefan complimented me.
I lay next to him for a while, looking straight into his eyes and thinking what to say to him. But I could not think of anything to say. After a short rest, I got up and went to the bathroom to pee. It didn’t even occur to me to get dressed and I went completely naked. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw that my breasts were still sticky and glistening with semen. I then lifted my leg and placed it on the toilet bowl. I saw that my crack was also glistening in the light of the bathroom lamp. I couldn’t believe how I had changed in just two days. I hadn’t even considered it at the time. Now I was starting to get used to it. After a while I left the bathroom and walked over to the couch where Stefan was still lying. I lay down next to him and turned my head towards him.
“Thank you”, - I said and then brought my lips close to his and kissed him for the first time. It was a long and passionate kiss. It was like two people in love with each other. After a while I pulled my lips away and I saw that he was surprised at what I had done.
“Now I’m the one to thank you, baby”, - he said and lay down on top of me and this time he kissed me.
During the kiss I felt his member on my thigh which was swollen again. I began to wriggle underneath him trying to get his member to latch on to my pubic area. Instinctively I moved my hand lower to where Stefan’s member was. I grabbed the tip and directed it towards my clit. It was located right between my labia. I began to wriggle around trying to impale myself on his member. Stefan realized what I wanted to do and pulled his mouth away from mine.
“Are you sure about this?” - asked Stefan looking straight into my eyes.
“I want it”, - I answered, whispering in his ear and making another attempt to impale myself on his member.
Stefan put me down next to him and got out of bed. For a moment I didn’t know what he meant. Did I say or do something wrong. Maybe I had been too pushy. Stefan got up and reached into his wallet, which was lying on the cabinet next to the room. He pulled out a condom.
“Isn’t it a bit early to be making a baby?” - Stefan asked teasingly.
Then it occurred to me that if it wasn’t for Stefan, I would probably be on my way to becoming pregnant right now. I realized that I had lost control of what wa

The Meeting

Tue, 22 Nov 2022 17:06:11 -0600

He’s heard too many sales pitches, So why is hers different?
by SexyFroggie - listen to the podcast at Steamy Stories
Here we go again. As if I wasn’t busy enough, now I must waste time taking yet another vendor meeting. Vendors are always trying to see me the next big thing. They always seem to have “the better product, service and prices.” But I’m old school and a loyalist. If I’m getting a fair price and great service, I don’t look to move elsewhere. Normally I don’t take these meetings. I would rather they just send me samples and prices and I can decide from there. However, a buddy of mine called up and told me I had to take this meeting. That this was a vendor he had met and that he instantly knew we should meet.
Ginny agreed to meet me on Saturday morning. I like working on the weekends. There is no one in the office. It is quiet and I get a lot done. It is really about the only time I can take meetings. As I entered the lobby, Ginny was there ready to go. You could tell she was a little eager and excited. Steve had told me she was new at this and that my contract would make her year. I must admit, Ginny took my breath away. I certainly wasn’t prepared for her. Ginny had a classical beauty: fresh faced; amazing body; a sweet demur quality. The type of woman men would paint on the sides of planes and go to war for. I shook her hand and introduced myself and felt an instance electricity between us.
We made our way back to my office and settled in for the sales pitch. I couldn’t get over how incredibly sexy Ginny was. She was dressed professionally with a white button up shirt and pencil skirt. Her stockings and heels rounded out the outfit. I’ve always had a thing for a woman in stockings. Stockings are so erotic and feel amazing on a woman’s legs. I couldn’t help but stare. I had to fight my mind from staring. I was mesmerized by her but didn’t want her to know.
Ginny presented her products, terms and all the guarantees that went with it. She laid out a pretty good proposal, but it just wasn’t good enough to get me to move my business. As she finished, I stood up and moved to the front of my desk and sat on the edge. At this angle I could now see her cleavage and I caught the smell of her perfume. Admittedly, I was a little bewitched. I explained that while I appreciated the presentation, it simply wasn’t good enough. What happened next caught me off guard.
Ginny reached up and put her hand on my thigh.
“I really want your business. I’d do anything to get this contract. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do to change your mind? Anything at all?” she said, as her hand rubbed up and down my thigh.
With one hand on the back of her neck and one on her cheek, I kissed her. A hard, primal kiss that sent a very clear message. Pulling lightly on her neck, Ginny stood up and started unbuttoning my shirt. Soon her hands were running along my chest while we continued kissing. My hands moved along her body, feeling her for the first time.
Ginny pushed me away and I thought I’d taken things too far. As I sat back in my chair, Ginny looked at me with this devilish smile dropped to her knees in front of me. Her hands travelled my thighs and opened my pants. Locked eye-to-eye, Ginny began stroking my cock. Long, slow, and very deliberately she rubbed me. The look on her face was of pure desire and lust. She wanted me and I wanted her.
Ginny moved forward with the tip of her tongue and teased my cock. It was driving me crazy. The anticipation was killing me. I closed my eyes, head back, and relished in the incredible sensations she was giving me. Then, without warning, Ginny took the entire length in her mouth and down her throat. He warm mouth glided up and down my shaft. Her continued sucking, along with the occasional stroke of her hand, had me on the verge of cumming. I wasn’t ready for this to end though.
I stopped Ginny and we stood up. I unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall to the ground.
“Slowly, take off your skirt for me.” I instructed.
Ginny let her skirt fall to the floor as she stepped out. Now she stood in front of me in a classic black matching bra and panties with a black garter belt holding her stockings in place. I wanted her more now than ever. I had to have her. Ginny had this amazingly innocent, demure look while having a devilishly naughty, sensual side. It wasn’t simply enough to fuck her. I had to make her mine.
I pulled my tie off and spun her around. Taking her hands together behind her back, I tied them together. I wanted to control this situation. I then backed her onto the desk and leaned her back. Grabbing her throat, just enough to show her I was in control, my other hand traveled her thigh. Ginny spread her legs and was clearly into my assault on her body. I began by rubbing over her panties. They were drenched. Little moans escaped her lips.
Moving her panties aside, I began rubbing along her lips. Taking her clit between my fingers I began to rub and manipulate her. I increased the pressure on her throat just a little. In no time Ginny began to breath heavy as her moans gave way to screams. Soon Ginny’s body was convulsing; her breathing was intense; her screams filled the office. I continued my manipulation until she begged me to stop.
I had to taste her. I had to have that intoxicating pussy in my mouth. I bent to one knee and allowed my tongue to travel her thighs. I purposely move close, but avoid touching, her pussy. As I tease her, I hear “please,” escape her lips. With that, I move in and taste her for the first time. Only one word could describe this moment, intoxicating. I began running my tongue along her slit. Slowly sucking her clit into my mouth. I dance my tongue along her clit and give a little nibble for effect. While I dart my tongue across her clit, I push a finger deep inside of her. In moments Ginny begins to cum again. This time though, I don’t relent. I continue to work on her pussy while she her body jerks under me. Suddenly I am flooded as Ginny begins to squirt. This just stirs me on more. Ginny begins to roll in her strongest orgasm yet. Her legs clamped tight on my head as she screams out my name.
The moment was here. We both wanted this, and, on some level, both needed this. Standing between her legs I move my cock to her. I rubbed my cock head along her wet slit and across her clit several times. Then, ever so slowly, I push into her. That initial gasp as we feel each other for the first time was incredible. I wanted to save this moment as long as I could. I pushed all the way in and held still. My hand traveled up her body and once again found her throat. While applying a gentle, but firm grasp on her throat, I begin to rock in and out of her. I choose to go extremely slow and to embrace the moment. The sheer desire to fuck her hard and fast was almost too much to resist. The feeling of her tight, wet pussy, grasping my cock was almost too much to take. We were both relishing in the experience.
I couldn’t resist anymore. I stood Ginny up and removed my tie. I turned her around and pushed her down onto the table. Oh that ass! I couldn’t get over how amazing her ass looked. As I bent down to pull her panties off, I found myself directly in front of that amazing ass. I had to explore my desires. Grabbing her checks and pulling them apart, I move in and run my tongue lightly against her asshole. Ginny immediately flinches, but almost immediately relaxes and a sigh escapes her lips. I knew that was the green light I needed. I moved in and began to lick her ass. My tongue darted along and in her beautiful starfish. In almost no time Ginny was responding with yet another orgasm. I could have gotten lost in her ass but my desires wouldn’t wait anymore.
I stood up and thrust hard into Ginny’s waiting pussy. There would be no slow and gentle this time. It was pure and primal now. I had to fuck her hard and fast. I couldn’t resist any longer. I began to thrust had and fast into her. With each thrust, Ginny gave out a guttural sound of lust.
“Yes, fuck me sugar! Fuck me hard!” Ginny exclaimed.
I continued for as long as I dare. As I pulled out Ginny dropped to her knees and quickly took my cock in her mouth. It was so erotic seeing her taste herself on me. She began to deep throat me and almost immediately I erupted down her throat. Ginny continued to suck until I couldn’t stand anymore.
Spent, we both began to gather ourselves and redress.
Then I told her, “Ginny, you’ve got the contract. We are going to have to have several more meetings to work out the details.”
by SexyFroggie for Literotica

A Divine Marital Intervention

Tue, 22 Nov 2022 15:59:04 -0600

A Divine Marital Intervention -
A couple gets a gift from God. (Erotic Coupling)
By Masterful_Husband. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Like a lot of people, I met my wife in college. We were in the same dorm and fell into that common dating circle trap where everyone is dating everyone. It wasn’t until we left for separate grad schools that we realized how much we meant to each other. It’s ironic that our relationship got more serious as we dated long distance but it worked well for us. I asked her to marry me when we graduated and we were wedded and honeymooning within six months.
I’d say our marriage was idyllic but that would be a lie. There was one issue that kept coming up over and over as a source of friction. My wife would tell you that we were “unevenly yoked”. I would say, “She’s religious and I wasn’t.”
We had discussed it (at great length) when we dated. I wasn’t some militant atheist. Those people have elevated that belief to an absurd level. I was an agnostic. I believed that disproving God was as futile as believing in one. I remember one memorable conversation my wife (then fiancée) and I had.
“I kind of admire people of faith,” I’d said.
She propped herself up on one elbow, looking at me with some excitement. “Really?”
I nodded, “Truly. I just can’t make myself believe in something so, ephemeral. Unverifiable. You know?”
“You believe in my love, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Isn’t it just as ephemeral?”
I kissed her, “No. You show me how much you love me every day.”
“So does God. You just have to know where to look.” The certainty in her voice was compelling but not persuasive.
I sighed, trying to avoid a fight, “I, I understand why you say that but I don’t see it that way. I do see wonderful, amazing things in this world but I also see plenty of reasonable, non-divine, explanations. On top of that, I don’t see why Christianity has to be the only answer. I mean, Have you made an extensive study of all major religions? Maybe there’s another out there that’s more internally consistent than Christianity?”
She frowned, “Danny, do you think I only believe because of some myopic view of the Bible?”
“Um, This feels like a trap,” I said, grinning and trying to defuse the situation.
“It’s not. Look,” she said sitting up. Her pert little breasts were bare in front of me but I tried not to focus on them. She didn’t help when she grabbed the gold cross that nestled between them and spun it. “This is just a symbol. The Bible is the instruction manual. But God is all around me. He talks to me. He saved me.”
“I will consider it,” I said and kissed her again. I was hopeful for another round of lovemaking. My wife is incredibly devout and spiritual but, thankfully, not particularly dogmatic. Sex before marriage wasn’t off the table which I was truly grateful for in those days because, frankly, it was incredible.
“One more thing. I know you don’t believe, yet,” she added with a smile, “But I need to know that you’re not going to close yourself off to this.”
“What do you mean,” I asked.
“I just want to know you’ll keep an open mind. Maybe try out some churches with me from time to time. Okay?”
I nodded. I didn’t really love going to church but I didn’t hate it. Over the years, plenty of my friends had tried to convince me so I’d gotten used to it. “How about once a month?”
Karen smiled, “Plus Christmas and Easter?”
I smiled back, “Sure,” I said and kissed her. We did make love again that night and in the morning. And the pledge wasn’t forgotten. After we got married we tried out a bunch of different churches. Karen’s lack of doctrinaire adherence meant that she was perfectly fine trying out lots of different flavors of church. She was always hoping to find one that I felt comfortable with. She prayed every night for me, often peeking out of one eye in a manner that made me think she expected a bolt of lightning to change me right in front of her eyes. We continued like that for years. We were happy but there was always this small little wedge between us. We both felt it and we both hated it but there was no changing either of us.
We moved to Seattle when we both found jobs in the area. I had just turned 29 and my wife’s 30th birthday was right around the corner. We were both very happy and Karen now had a whole new batch of churches to try out on me. Some days I thought that was the only reason she agreed to the move. After about six months, she found this Presbyterian church just outside of the city. I think of it as the Goldilocks church. It wasn’t a big mega church, nor was it a little dinky church. The congregation was neither geriatric nor were they a bunch of new age hippies. The pastor was impassioned but not fire and brimstone, us vs. them, burn the gays. It was one of the few churches that she’d brought me to that didn’t make my skin crawl when I walked in. It felt like a family without feeling like a cult.
“I like this place,” I whispered to Karen as we found our seats. A couple a little older than us greeted us. There were kids running around and just a general sense of community that pervaded the church.
I listened to a sermon that day that changed my life in ways I couldn’t even fathom. If I’m being truthful, I don’t even really remember the sermon, however. My mind wandered and I thought about all the different things that I’d seen and learned. Something changed in me during that hour and I knew I believed suddenly. It sounds cliché to say that the will of God worked its way into my heart but given what happened later that night, I think that’s probably what happened.
What I do remember from the service was the pastor’s closing prayer. “Lord, I don’t know a lot of things but I want to know what you’re willing to show me. Just help me learn how to know you, Lord.” For the first time ever, I said the words silently but earnestly. They seemed like perfect words for me.
We drove home in silence as I contemplated what was happening. I was too terrified to tell Karen. I didn’t want to get her hopes up in case it wasn’t what I thought. Maybe I’d just eaten something odd the night before or something, right? But for the rest of the day, I felt it tugging on my mind. There was still uncertainty but now there was a quest for learning more mixed in.
That night, Karen knelt at the foot of the bed, just as she’d done every night since we’d gotten married and said her own prayers. “Lord, you know my heart. You know what I want. I pray for Danny and that you will work your will on him. And Lord, that other silent prayer that I’ve been saying for years. I’m ready for that too. I’ve been putting conditions on it and that’s not right. Please Lord, I trust you completely.”
That last part confused me. I’d never heard her say anything like that and never heard her pray for anything consistently other than for my salvation. She crawled up into bed, wearing just a t-shirt and snuggled up next to me. I resisted the urge to ask her about the odd addition knowing that prying wasn’t going to score me any points. Within five minutes, we were having wild sex. She seemed much more relaxed than normal. Not that she was particularly restrained in bed. But our lovemaking generally followed a bit of a formula on most occasions and that night we completely deviated from it. We were rolling all over the bed, shifting positions multiple times like a porno or something. Eventually, we came together while I was slamming into her with her legs over my shoulders. We were staring into each other’s eyes while she whispered, “Thank you. I love you,” over and over. We drifted off to sleep feeling tired and sated but also weirdly excited.
The Divine Revelation
The next thing I remember, I was in an incredibly lucid dream. I was walking along the bank of a river. The moss covered pebbles crunched under my feet as I looked down and realized I was completely naked. Somehow I wasn’t particularly bothered by that. The temperature was perfect. The sun kissed against my skin while a cool breeze wicked away the hint of sweat. I could hear the river flow and the birds and insects in the forest buzzed peacefully. Something about the setting felt more perfect and relaxing than anything I’d ever felt.
That’s when God appeared. Don’t ask me how I knew it was him. I just knew. He wasn’t an old bearded man with a robe. Nor a guy wearing a well pressed suit. Frankly, it wasn’t at all what I expected. Out from the forest floated an ephemeral mixture of dust and fire and water. A swirling maelstrom confined into a vaguely humanoid body. The eyebrows were formed from small rocks, the mouth was a roaring fire. And the eyes. I swear the eyes were stars, or maybe whole galaxies.
It was magnificent and awe inspiring. Or it would have been if not for the Hawaiin shirt and Birkenstock sandals that the elemental construct wore.
“How do I look?” came a booming, commanding voice. It shook the whole forest, trees swayed and the river behind me sloshed violently.
“What?” I asked, confused and scared.
“Oh. Sorry,” God said. “Is that better? I don’t talk to a lot of humans these days. Mostly whales and elephants. They’re the next big thing on Earth, you see.” He laughed at his own joke though I was too stunned to reciprocate.
“What?” I asked again. Less scared and more confused.
“Sorry, sorry. Danny, Or do you prefer Daniel?”
“What?”
God sighed. He actually sighed. Frosty breath flew out of his mouth and dissipated into the wind before he said, “Calm down. Take a breath. I’m God. You’re Danny. Everything’s fine.”
I did as he told me and felt a little less agitated but no less befuzzled. “Sorry, I’m just; you’re God?”
“In the flesh. Well, my version of it anyways. Nice to meet you?” he said and extended a watery hand. I reached for it and felt my hand slosh through the wetness. God laughed at the look on my face, “Sorry, Danny. I love that joke.”
“I don’t understand any of this,” I said and just sat down on a rock at the side of the river.
“I know. This is all new to you. I get that. But I’ve been following your wife for years. She’s amazing.”
“Yes she is, but what do you mean; following? Don’t you pay attention to everyone?”
“Well, technically I’m omniscient and omnipresent and all-powerful and all that. But it doesn’t work the way you humans think of it. I can see and know anything I want but only the stuff I really think about. Most humans have gotten pretty bad at worshipping me. They don’t do it right. They don’t do it out of a sense of love. They want something from me. Your wife is one of those rare exceptions. She loves me just for me. You can see why that’s so appealing, right?”
I thought about it, “So basically humanity has become a bunch of gold diggers telling you they love you but really wanting your money?”
God nodded, flexing the sand in his neck and giving me a fiery thumbs up. “You got it. Not Karen. She’s only been praying for two things that were for her and tonight she realized why she was wrong to condition them. She made that final, selfless step of praying just for me to do what I thought was right.”
“So that really was you today?”
“Yeah. I knew she’d have her epiphany tonight so I made sure you had your own earlier today.”
“How could you,” I started to ask.
God tapped his fiery hand against the hard surface of his skull causing sparks to shoot out, “I see the future, remember?”
“Oh,” I said. That made sense.
“So why show up to me like this? Do all new believers get this treatment?”
God laughed. It was a joyful, musical sound that I could have listened to forever. “Oh no. Definitely not. This is kind of my little gift to Karen. To let you know you’re not imagining things and you’re on the right path. Plus, I can’t really give her her other wish without talking to you first.”
“What do you mean?”
“She loves you, Danny.”
“I know,” I said, confused again. Of course she loved me. I know a lot of people say that they know their spouse loves them but secretly doubt it. I never did. If anything, I always wondered if I loved her as much as she loved me.
“No. She really, really loves you. Nearly as much as she loves me, actually. And she’s very traditional. Almost to a fetish.”
“What do you mean? She’s not particularly traditional about stuff that I’ve noticed.”
“That’s because she knows you’re not looking for that. So she’s kept that little part of her hidden lest it bother you.”
“What do you mean,” I asked, still not understanding.
“She wants to serve you. Completely. She wants to be perfect for you in whatever way you want.”
“Isn’t that true of everyone that truly loves their spouse?”
“No. Not really. Think of it this way. Would you kill someone if she asked?”
“Of course not. Would she?”
“No. But she wants to.”
I was startled and really bothered, “She wants to kill someone for me? What the f” I stopped myself from vulgar talking in front of God.
He laughed. “Don’t worry. You can be vulgar around me. I invented all the words, remember?” he said and patted me on the shoulder. Somehow his fiery hand didn’t burn me, though I still flinched. “No, she doesn’t want to kill someone. She wants to be so devoted to you that she would if you asked. But she knows you never would. Understand?”
“Not even a little,” I said truthfully.
“She wants to be able to be literally anything for you. If you want it from her, she wants to be that for you.”
“Oh, I get it. Like she wants to like computer games and watching basketball even though I know she doesn’t like those things?”
God nodded, “Exactly. It’s how she thinks of being a good help-meet. She wants to literally be anything you want. And that’s what I’m giving her, well, I’m giving it to both of you.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you wake up, you’ll be able to change anything about Karen you want. Forever.”
“Permanently?”
“If you want. She’ll be able to be molded in whatever way you want for the rest of your life. Want her to like Basketball? Done. Want her to hate Basketball the next day? Sure.”
“Why not just change her into my perfect girl? Why give me all this power?”
“Three reasons, Danny. First, that’s not what she wants. She wants to be malleable and flexible for you. She knows that people change and she doesn’t want to be perfect for you in this moment and terrible for you years from now.” God ticked off one stony finger as he talked, then sprouted a little twig as a second finger, “Second, I needed to talk to you about this so you’d understand. So you’d believe and would appreciate that this is well and truly what she wants at a deep, fundamental level. She finally let go of conditioning it upon your salvation and that was the key but she’s always wanted it from the day she met you.”
He smiled at me and I saw one of his eyes twinkle, “And third, I like to have a little fun and watching you two will be just that. I’m curious what you do with the complete control of another human being. Daunting isn’t it?”
I nodded as a million thoughts and questions rolled through my mind.
God smiled at me again, “Don’t worry. I know it’ll be fine. I can see the future remember? Oh, one thing. There is one limit. No matter what you change, she’ll never stop loving me. That’s key to her and one part that you can’t change. Not that you’d want to, I know. But just to give you some peace of mind.”
I nodded again. The dream started to fade a little and I could feel myself waking up. “Wait!” I called. The elemental deity turned to gaze at me with those piercing eyes. “What can we do for you?” I asked.
He smiled, a blazing smile of warmth and serenity. “It’s a good question Danny. Find your own way. Love Karen. Love others. Put love into the world. That’s my greatest commandment. All the other dogma that religions attach to worship are just fluff. Love is all you really need.”
He started walking away, his strange footwear crunching on the pebbles as he walked. But then he paused and as I called out, “Really? That’s all? We don’t need to convert people or something? Preach your message?”
“For crying out loud. Why does everyone think that? Sure, tell people about me if you want. That’s your call. Remember, I’m the one in charge. If I wanted more followers I’d snap my fingers and it would happen. I want you to make the world better in whatever big or small way you can, Danny,” he continued walking and the dream began to fully fade. I could feel the haze lift as the morning light broke through my eyelids, ripping me from the verdant dreamscape that I truly didn’t want to leave. As I started to stir, I heard the voice one last time, “Oh, I gave you both a little gift that I think you’ll really enjoy.”
I tried to call out to ask him what it was but my mouth wasn’t working. Suddenly, I bolted upright, the dream gone and already fading from my short term memory.
Morning’s New reality
“What is it, honey?” Karen asked, my sudden movement having woken her. Karen was a very light sleeper which was pretty nice when I woke up feeling frisky. Of course this morning, I was only feeling perplexed. Had it been real? Was it just a crazy dream? Surely it was just my imagination, right?
“Karen? Do you feel, different today?”
She looked at me, “No, why?”
“I don’t know. it’s just, I had the weirdest dream,” I said. She looked at me, puzzled for a moment.
“Bad dream or good dream?”
“Good, I mean I think it was good. Um, Okay, let me ask you something. Last night when you said your prayer, you said something different. Something about a silent prayer?”
Karen’s eyes grew wide and she blushed, “You noticed?”
I nodded, “What was it, if you don’t mind me asking?”
My throat was dry and I could feel my heart pounding. Would she tell me? Was this the moment of truth? She looked at me and fairly whispered, “I prayed… well… I’ve always prayed that… that I could be the best wife for you.”
I smiled. It was true! It was absolutely true! But I had to be sure. Maybe my subconscious had heard her murmuring or something. I had to know. “That seems pretty benign. Why pray that silently. And by the way, you are a perfect wife for me,” I told her as I leaned over and kissed her forehead.
Karen smiled, “I know you think that. But I"m not. And and, I want to be, Danny. I want to be perfect even with all the little things that you dislike.”
My grin probably took on a manic look, “What… like how you don’t like watching basketball with me?”
Karen krinkled her nose but then exclaimed, “Yes… exactly. I hate it but I wish I didn’t.”
I studied her for a minute, trying to remember the words I’d heard. What did I need to do? Snap my fingers? Make a wish? Or just will the changes into being? I looked at Karen and just thought about her happily watching basketball with me. I pictured us cuddled up on the couch, her wearing one of my UCLA jerseys as we happily watched a game.
Karen seemed to get a little twinkle in her eye, “But you know what… in keeping with my prayer last night, what the heck? Let’s watch a game today?”
“Really?” I asked, surprised in spite of myself.
“Why the heck not?” she said, giving me a kiss. “I’ll go make us breakfast, you find a game you’ve been wanting to watch and we’ll see if maybe I can learn to like it. It’s been awhile and I owe you the effort.”
I smiled and stretched out in bed as I watched Karen’s gorgeous ass climb out from the sheets.. She stripped out of her night shirt and then stood there pondering what to wear. She looked at me, smirking at how I was staring at her naked tits like a kid who found his dad’s Playboys. She got an idea and went into our closet, coming out only a few moments later wearing my old, beaten up Ed O'Bannon jersey. My mouth must have dropped three feet as I stared at her. She looked super cute in the oversized jersey. It was long enough to be worn like a very short mini-dress

The Roadside Diner Dish: part 2Titillating the customers and...

Wed, 17 Aug 2022 11:30:47 -0500

The Roadside Diner Dish: part 2
Titillating the customers and crew, with her wardrobe choices.
By Wood_ Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Well, needless to say that after that night, things got, weird, but interesting.
Emery started to test me any chance she got and, sadly, it couldn’t be really often. We were fucking swamped most of the time, and it seemed like it was an excuse for her to put me on fire and squeeze in a few of her tricks between two customers, without any slower preambles and subtleties.
Like, right after she would call out an order at me, she’d wink with a huge grin and walk away slapping her ass.
Even her little dances were becoming hot as fire. In time, I could only react by bursting out laughing in disbelief when she jiggled her ass and sang out loud in the kitchen, or when she skipped and spun gleefully around the kitchen, making her big tits bounce and quiver inside her tight clothes.
And every time she turned away, she’d shoot a quick look at my crotch, making sure her torrid dance moves, which I was the only one privileged to witness, gave me a hot throbbing boner.
And, was it me or even her wardrobe choices were getting racier? Just when I thought it wasn’t possible, she started coming into work and surprised me with some outfits that just knocked the wind out of me! Like that one day, she had a sort of black fishnet top with a bralette underneath; or this other time that she had a simple white crop top. You could see her lace black bra because it was see-through.
At that point, the hottest one I remember had to be those denim short-legged overalls, with nothing up top but a white bra on! The suspenders were holding everything in place nicely, but they were still loose enough to allow me to easily take peeks at her tits throughout the day.
Damn.
And to make everything even more difficult to focus on, as if she knew about the mental exertion she was causing me, she came in to work for a whole week under a recurrent theme of wearing t-shirts from different bands that I happened to be really digging. Monday was Meshuggah. Tuesday was Taproot. Wednesday was White Stones. Thursday was The Dillinger Escape Plan. Friday was Fear Factory’s Obsolete album; from 1998. Every day, I couldn’t help myself. I would just start blabbering about metal with her like a complete nerd. It always ended in conversations that surprisingly had quite a good, natural flow.
Yup. We had a lot in common. She was making it harder and harder for me to hide that I was seriously getting the hots for her! On top of it all, though slightly ashamed to admit it, I was definitely feeling a growing need to have a go at those boobs of hers! Um.
So despite this increasing on-shift camaraderie, Emery never let on that she’d be interested to meet outside of work. Our coffee breaks could never be lined up together, and with reason. Someone had to hold the fort. Days would just fly by, and at night, we went our separate ways.
Such was our life, working at Carlos’ Roadside Diner.
I remember coming home one night, feeling this heavy dark cloud dawning over me. It was as if the frustration of being unable to come closer to Emery was now becoming more important than my whole disdain for this job. I was bummed out and really, really tired. I would keep her in my field of vision all day as we talked about the bands that were on her rock shirts. To me, these were always great conversation starters, and I always hoped it could develop into so much more, if we had the time.
And her racy outfits was the final blow, it was too much. She dressed this way and played so cool about it, allowing me to just stare on. She was so freaking hot. Her body was insane. Her tits.
This all sounded so easy, and very appealing. I should make a move and ask her on a date. Right? I mean, we had a few things in common, and I had a feeling she was just being very nice to me.
So. why was I here, standing in my living room, short of breath, feeling lost and helpless?
Shaking it off, I opted to call it a day and go straight to bed, after I jumped into the shower to wash the grease and all that feeling of disgust off of me.
As I stripped down, my cock came out with a twang. Fuck, I was still hard from thinking about her. Nice. I had to take care of that. This should get my mind off of a few certain things.
I jacked off in hot water, edging my orgasm for a good 20 minutes, as I watched my throbbing cock, and imagined it being in Emery’s hand. I lathered it profusely with soap and thrusted my meat back and forth, picturing it being in Emery’s cleavage, fucking those ripe and generous melons. All I wanted to do was to smother my face in them and drool like an animal.
I finally let go and exploded, splattering the shower walls, as a wave of goosebumps ran down my spine. I felt all this weight come off, as if I kept that tension in for way too long.
As I dried myself and came out of my steamy bathroom, I felt weak in the knees, with a lingering heat still inside me, which couldn’t be caused by the hot water, anymore. That didn’t look good.
Later that night, it turned out that I had this weird flu creeping over me, and fast. A tingle in the throat, a little fever, the typical symptoms. As a precaution, I wasted no time and I took all kinds of medicine and vitamins just to get rid of whatever I had.
I felt that I was going to have to call in sick tomorrow, but fortunately, I expected this to only last one day. I had a pretty strong immune system. Even if it meant lying around all day at home, playing video games, getting stone on Advil, I hated being sick. I knew that not only Carlos was going to feel lost without me, but I was going to pay the price to come in the day after and fix his mess. This meant that he was going to put Darcy on the grill. She had a bit of a background in cooking, but nothing to call home about.
This also meant that Emery was probably going to have to try her best and be patient with poor Darcy. Emery and I were a great team, after all. Her service was impeccable. But I was scared she would lose her temper at the replacement.
As expected, I got up the following day, hot and shivering, with the sound of my alarm that I had forgotten to turn off. It had been a long and painful night, filled with tossing and turning, going through feverish dreams of, yes work, but mostly Emery. And, also as expected, On top of this high fever, I got up with a severe case of morning wood. Holy fuck, I was rock hard, it almost hurt!
I was in no condition to work my shift, nor risk getting the rest of the crew sick. I called Carlos right away. After a short conversation, he mumbled something about putting Darcy on the grill, while keeping Emery at the front. I just nodded, rolling my eyes, and heard him mumble something until he figured out what to do, like a manager would. Good job, Carlos!
It was surreal. I just hung up with my boss and my dick was still darting right up. I felt like it was stuck in some kind of cramp. I took 2 more Advil and went back to bed, under the cover.
And I started nurturing this impressive erection.
My mind returned to my dazed, fevered, semi-conscious twilight zone.
Emery. I’m dying to get a handful of those jugs. I wish I could fondle them like crazy from behind, as I rub my boner against the crack of your hot ass. Hum. I’m stroking my cock slowly, thinking of you. You’re so hot, I wish you were here in my bed right now. I’d stare at you all day, and you could just stay there and stare back at me as I stroke this cock. Hum and slowly, you could remove your clothes, little by little. Hum I’m so fucking hard, Emery. You would undress, slowly, and finally show me your big titties. Yes, they’re driving me crazy.
I had been going for a while, now. I was getting very intense in my bed, moaning so fucking loud as I felt this other orgasm come, when suddenly, my phone rang.
It was work. Fuck. What did he want this time? Can’t he just run his business like he fucking owns it?
“Hello?” I said, clearing my throat.
“Hey, you.” Came a lusty female voice from the other end.
“Emery, Hi. How did you get my number?”
“The schedule, dummy,” she interrupted.
“Oh. right. Sorry.” I forgot that all the staff contact info was on the schedule sheet.
“So, chucking a sickie, are you?” she said, laughing softly.
“Yes.” I confirmed.
“Oh, you poor thing,” she said, in dramatized empathy.
A slight silence ensued. All I could hear was my blood rushing in my head, and refrigerators buzzing over the line.
“What am I gonna do without you?” she said, sarcastically.
“You’re gonna be fine,” I said, rubbing my cock a little. “You’re good at this.”
“Yeah. Thanks, but, about that, I think it’s already not looking too well. Darcy doesn’t know where’s the gas is for the oven.”
I rolled my eyes, and forgot that Carlos had changed my whole station right before I was hired. That had to be why Darcy didn’t know, she never used this unit before.
“Tell her. tell her it’s close to the floor, on the right. She has to press down the button for 10 seconds to let the gas come, then she can light it.” I heard her get away from the phone, I assumed to go and see for herself.
“Got it. I’ll tell her when she gets back. She’s over in the office with Carlos going through some shit for the day.”
I was growing nervous. Why did she not hang up already? I felt a suspense building up. I wanted to go back to rubbing my dick, but the fruit of my lust this morning was right there, on the other end of the line. I didn’t dare to speak. I wanted her to do the talking, and hope she’d say something very Emery-like. I wanted her to be blunt and dirty, like when I caught her rubbing herself on the table. And, thinking wishfully, I really wanted to ask her how she dressed today, and how she thought everyone was going to stare at her mouth-watering breasts. I wanted to hear how horny this was going to make her. This, in turn would make me so fucking horny, more than I was right now.
As she breathed over the phone, I couldn’t utter a single word. It felt so good rubbing my shaft, now oozing with precum. I was breathing a little hard, too, but this could easily pass as congested airways.
“Well, it’s still early,” she said, her voice almost down to a whisper, now. “I should go make myself some coffee.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
“Are you gonna get yourself a nice, hot coffee, too?”
“Yes, Emery.”
“That’s good.” She gave another dramatized maternal response.
“Yeah. I’ll get out of bed eventually. I should be back tomorrow, don’t worry. I can take good care of myself. I’m a big boy.”
“Oh, is the big boy still in bed in his Batman pj’s?”
“Yes,” I lied.
“Can you say you’re a big boy, again?”
“What?”
“Say you’re a big boy,” she laughed.
Holy fuck.
“I just did.”
“I know. Say it again,” Emery said, in a sexy hoarse voice.
HOLY FUCK, I was going to jizz! I was rubbing my shaft pretty intently, now, tickling the back of my helmet, where it’s most sensitive. I didn’t want to lose control, I know I get pretty vocal when I cum. This had to end.
“I’m. I’m a big boy. Emery.”
She laughed again over the phone. This was torture.
“Big boy can take care of himself?”
“Yes, Emery, I; holy shit, what are you doing?” I finally replied, laughing back.
Did she know what she was doing to me? If I hadn’t been already hard when she called, she would have made me, and quick.
“Oh, nothing, Brian!” she said, bringing her voice back up. “You know I’m just fucking with ya!”
“You know, you always say that,” I laughed. “I’m gonna start wondering if you really enjoy this.”
That kinda slipped out.
“I do,” she replied, switching back to a more serious tone, now.
“Ah haha, okay. Whatever that means,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re hard to follow, sometimes. I gotta go, Em. Don’t work too hard, okay?”
“Oh, so I’m just “Em”, now?” she laughed harder. “Getting a little comfortable, mister? Well, okay, “Bri”, I won’t work too hard, but only if you promise me that you will!”
“Damn, you’re crazy. Alright, bye!”
I hung up and instantly made a geyser of cum all over myself and my sheets, screaming at the top of my lungs.
The next day, I was only feeling a little better, still just enough to go back in and prevent the diner from turning into a complete disaster for one more day.
I was earlier than usual, just to assess the state the diner was left in. I had to use all my willpower to keep me from screaming out when I saw the mess. But again, I probably would’ve still been mad if Darcy and Emery closed the kitchen their way and left things not the way I would’ve done.
When Emery came in later, I was busy scrubbing some pots, already sweating. I was going to try and avoid her gaze for as long as possible, afraid that she’d pounce me like a maniac and get mad at me for being sick.
“Good morning!” she said, mimicking a falsetto opera voice.
Wow. Okay, so she was in a good mood, after all.
Throughout our morning set-up, she briefed me on what happened yesterday, pointing out some little incidents and other things to assess, just so I could take them from there. And I was surprised at how well she behaved. All along, she kept a straight face and made no innuendoes about whatever happened over the phone yesterday. But it genuinely felt that she was happy to see me, back at work and feeling better.
Had it been that bad while I was gone?
Well, when I finally asked her how it went, she didn’t complain too much. Yes it rained, and it must have made things much slower than usual at the diner, fortunately. She was glad she had Darcy on board. She was a little slow, and clumsy, but she was sweet and did her best.
And most importantly, it was Darcy, and not Carlos. The diner would’ve probably burned to the ground, had it been him!
Later, as we were about to open, the kitchen was in a much better shape, already. We were back in business, as if nothing happened.
It took a few days for this flu to fully go away. I just drank more coffee than usual, along with my Advil, periodically, to think straight and stay on the ball. I told myself that I was gonna try and keep my mind off Emery, even though she was always right there, in the same proximity.
More precisely, I didn’t want to think too much about her the way I did that morning, when we talked over the phone. Let’s just say I was tired, and vulnerable. Maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t do anything too spontaneous and stupid if she toned down her little games. But I wasn’t sure I could count on her for that.
The weather got a little chilly and rainy for a few days, which caused Emery to dress a little more to keep warm. Days went by without her putting on any outfit too extravagant and sending me on a hormonal rampage. It was actually a little depressing, but the slower pace in general allowed me to catch up on tidying up my stations. I kept busy. Focused.
On some random Wednesday morning, though, the weather looked a lot better again. Just like a promise to a great and fruitful day, the sky was nothing but deep and vast blue, where a hot July sun was already comforting me as it beamed down my scalp on my way to work.
After my tables were all set, I looked around and noticed that Emery wasn’t even here yet. That was odd. Even though she’d always come in at least 20 minutes earlier than what she was scheduled, her shift officially started one hour before opening. I looked at my watch and we were about to open in 15 minutes.
Fuck. and in came the man in the flesh, Carlos, pulling in next to the dumpster with his van. What were the odds of him making an appearance on the same day that Emery was late for her shift for the first time.
I ran out of the bus to come and meet up with him, far enough from the order window. I didn’t want him to see that Emery didn’t punch in yet. I had warned her not to piss him off, and despite the general carelessness that she emanated, I knew the message had gone through. But, honestly, I didn’t want to know what would happen if he caught her. I was definitely going to back her up, I didn’t want her to get in trouble.
As Carlos started mumbling whatever he wanted to tell me, I tried to take him in the opposite direction, away from where Emery should be at this moment.
Then I saw her. Emery dashed in with her Civic, and parked in the dirt behind a line of cars that were already on the roadside, far enough to hope that Carlos wouldn’t see her. From the distance, I could already tell she seemed frightened.
I tried gesticulating in her direction, unknowingly from the boss, and then tried tracing a line with my hands towards the dumpster. That was her only way in without getting caught: she’d have to get through the thicket that circled the diner, then come back out by the staff table. There, she’d be fine: this whole area was hidden from the side of the road, where I was busy stalling Carlos at the moment. I hoped she’d figure it out and manage to sneak inside, incognito.
From what I could tell, she parked not too far from these few meters of beaten path at the edge of the forest, which I had used more than once. It gave her a good clue of where to go.
I headed back in after King Dumbass was finally gone. He didn’t even realize he had kept me well past the opening hour: there were already a few people in line.
Emery was standing right in the doorway, waiting for me with a look of complete panic on her face. I thought, fine, she must have waited for me to reassure her.
“Did he see me?” she asked with complete dread on her face.
“No, Em,” I sighed. “All good, I made sure he looked away, so he has no idea.”
Exhaling her lungs entirely out of relief, she threw her arms around me. And I knew instantly that this was officially the sweetest thing I had actually felt in a very long time. A firm, heart-warming hug. And holy shit, she smelled so good, too.
“Oh my God, Brian! Thank you, thank you so much. You got no idea.”
I did not, indeed. I wasn’t sure why she’d be that scared of coming in late. Was it because I told her not to make him mad? It wasn’t like he was going to hurt her, or anything, but he just had a way to not make himself reprimand you twice for a mistake.
I wanted to know. Later, during the day, I tried to slow her down, for a minute, she was making me dizzy. Customers had stopped trickling in for a while and cleaning up was going to have to wait.
“Here, Emery. Please, take this,” I said gravely, handing her a coffee. “Are you okay? Geez, you looked like you were gonna freak out this morning when you came in late.”
“Yeah. I know. I wasn’t paying attention on my way here. Took the wrong exit off the highway, and ended up in Buttfuck, Egypt.“
She sighed deeply and closed her eyes.
“Well, okay, if you have to know, there’s one thing I should tell you about me. But you can’t tell that to anyone.”
Her tone made my teeth clench, as if I braced myself for some kind of bad news.
“You see, I got this job here as part of a probation agreement with the provincial correctional services. I’m finishing a 3 year sentence, and I’m here to rehabilitate society, in a way,” she said, making finger quotes. “Not that I think I was in long enough for me to forget, but at least, I’m outta this hole for the time being.”
“What? You’re in jail?”
“Yeah. I was kind of an active member of an important circle of scammers when I worked at this old folks home, not too far from here. My boss happened to have some really sketchy connections, which I found out not too much later after I started there. He would blackmail everyone about all sorts of things if I didn’t do what he asked. We were basically stealing from these folks when, to him, it was only like taxing when they were causing a fuss with the caregivers. And sometimes, the way he made us treat and intimidate them made me sick. Ugh. I didn’t have the heart to bring myself down to their level. You could say I was at the wrong place, at the wrong time, with a very bad supervisor.”
Emery shuddered and looked away, shrugging off some bad memories. I almost wanted to ask her to stop giving all this information that seemed very confidential, but I was hanging on to her lips.
“Anyway, later,” she carried on. “The p

The Roadside Diner Dish: part 1A roadside diner in Ontario hires...

Tue, 16 Aug 2022 11:30:47 -0500

The Roadside Diner Dish: part 1
A roadside diner in Ontario hires a new, intriguing waitress.
By Wood_ Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Okay. Let’s put you into context. Let’s tell the whole world where all of this started. After all, I need to lay down a simple but important foundation for this monument that erected itself into my life.
Hi. I’m Brian. I’m a full time cook at Carlos Roadside Diner. I’m also a full time dirty long-haired metalhead that’s got his mind on everything else but work. So how I got here, dedicating all my time, my sanity, to this dead-end job, is a whole other story.
For many years, Carlos’ Diner had grown into a staple as a tourist attraction in the back roads of Lambton county, Ontario. Along the Canadian side of the St. Clair River, separating two of the Great Lakes, there’s a great roadside food truck which predates the recent food truck craze by several decades. But this food truck is inspired by the old dining cars of the 1920s. It’s a busy seasonal restaurant that all started with a man and his strange but unique dream to turn an old school bus into a kitchen.
A scenic overlook is on the other side of the old rural highway. On this side, a large asphalt parking area has the big classic bus and actual eating area. The bus has a stained wooden deck and ramp in front of the midsection of the bus, and folks order from a modified area where the midsection windows were removed and a rollup gate was installed over a stainless steel service counter. Picnic tables are scattered all over this smooth asphalt that gets very hot under the sun; cute paper lanterns and flower pots are dangling off a bright yellow canopy. Hidden in the backside of the bus, near a utility pole, a vented short shipping container housed shelves of dry goods and disposable serving supplies; a commercial refrigerator; and lastly, a walk-in freezer. Behind the back end of the bus there were also portable outhouses. The sign itself is a real eye catcher for the hungry tourist: huge and bright with a vintage look of neons and blinking lights. An authentic early 60s swing soundtrack is playing from 2 outdoor speakers mounted on 2 streetlight poles at either end of the parking lot, along the roadside; to complete the atmosphere. Really, the only thing that’d make you wonder if you traveled back in time would be if there were waitresses zooming around on roller skates, bringing food to the tables.
Oh, So, don’t tell him I said that, but the owner, Carlos; with his name in bright shiny letters on the sign, is a big grumpy dummy. There, I said it! He’s got a thick mustache, a receding hairline and gold chains in a shaggy chest, who wears a crusty white wife beater and track pants as soon as the weather allows it.
And his real name is actually Dennis, imagine that. I’m not too sure how and why he got that moniker. I’m sure it’s a pretty dumb story. When you think about it, the name Carlos is indeed catchier than Dennis for a business but his personality is far from being as catchy. The whole lively and attractive feel of the place is, surprisingly, not really reflecting what you might want to think of the owner.
Today is Monday. Our hostess just quit last week for a better gig in town. She had been here for quite a long time, longer than I have. It really caught us off guard at first, we were just opening up for the season. But, honestly, I really couldn’t blame her. Despite the relative success of the establishment, that proverbial grass must definitely be greener somewhere else.
Carlos briefly asked for my input on the resumes before calling the candidates for a brief streak of interviews. And before you knew it, we were already introduced to the new hostess.
I had seen her go by on interview day, but today, Carlos had the whole crew here for an early morning team meeting. While the team was sort of listening to Carlos, I got to stand back and get a better look at her from the distance.
And her name was Emery.
Under a Blue Jays cap that she wore backwards, she had long blonde hair that she usually maintained knitted into two long braids. She was maybe 5'8" tall, with a rather hefty looking build. Her purple makeup and eyebrow piercings really made her facial features pop out. Since Carlos didn’t really impose work attire, she didn’t hesitate in coming with her usual wardrobe, which mostly consisted of straight tank tops or plaid shirts with jeans or shorts. And whenever she wore the latter, you noticed that she had a tendency of wearing mismatched patterned knee socks. I thought this must be really off-putting for people with OCD, but that was probably her intention.
She looked stern but determined, efficient. And even though her looks and fashion choices were giving her off as some kind of anti-social punk, she looked pretty sweet when she smiled and used what I thought must be her customer service voice. I’d almost say she looked boyish, but man, she was all woman.
Now, though, here’s the real flabbergast: this girl seemed to be sporting quite a hefty and impressive bust and she sure took no shortcuts in putting it out there.
At first, I didn’t give it more thought than necessary and it was most likely because she was dressed maybe a little more conservatively on hiring day. Carlos had asked for my opinion upon hiring her, so I wasn’t sure. But when I saw her in what seemed to be her regular work clothes, that was all I could notice about her. She really had those huge, natural-looking, breasts.
I knew Carlos hired her for completely different reasons. There was no way he would have put her physical attributes in the equation, whether it be to benefit his business, or for some hidden, dirty pleasure! Ugh. And regardless, he was married to his very special lady named “Youma’. I had seen her a few times, and let me tell ya; he sure was not the boss of her!
So, no! Serious! Not even once did he ogle at Emery’s chest, and it wasn’t even like he’d become more excited than usual around her. He just wasn’t that kind of guy. Carlos only had eyes for the financial success of his diner. All he must have seen in his new employee was that she looked like your typical socially-outgoing, competent, and eager young woman who wanted to make easy tip money for, I don’t know, her studies or going to the movies with boys. That’s how much Carlos was detached from reality.
As for me, it turned out that a pair of big juicy tits is something, actually one of the only things, that I only have eyes for in life. Like, seriously, how big was she? Some double G’s? Or H, as in Holy Shit!
In either case, it seemed like Emery was a perfect fit for the business for both Carlos and me.
Win - win.
As we started working together, I had to keep an eye on her, see how she went about doing her duties. At the same time, I secretly treated myself by stealing little glances at her body from the corner of my eyes whenever I could. My thoughts started to run wild about her faster than I thought they would. For example, I told myself how her athletic build must really benefit her in carrying around all that weight from her breasts. I was floored!
It seemed like most of her clothing items were deliberately chosen one size smaller and that really didn’t help concealing her chest. Sometimes, the necklines on her tops were so low, it was enough to show bits of the lacey trims of what must be an industrial strength bra.
Yes, her tits were massive, round, large and - oh my God! - so tempting! But all of her features were so perfectly balanced. Even when she made her juicy cleavage blatantly showing out there, she’d still look naturally ravishing. When she interacted with customers, she knew how to make them lock their eyes into hers as she spoke and keep them from looking down her shirt. She was a mesmerizing force of nature.
I thought that I couldn’t give myself off just yet. I was barely here mentally while I worked. I cooked burgers, fries and reuben sandwiches on auto-pilot, goddammit! I did everything like a robot, without much after thought, and it was pretty easy to stay on top of things, if I didn’t get too distracted. That was how I went through the day to do a good job, keep Carlos happy and stay in this gig long enough to pay off my apartment, my car and gather enough money to, eventually, get the fuck out of this town.
I had to deliver. I couldn’t let this chick sidetrack me, even though she seemed to check all my boxes. Looking at her style, I was convinced she even listened to the same type of music as I did. Tool, Mastodon, Slipknot, Static-X, name it. Of all things, this would most likely get me seriously infatuated towards her.
Sigh! I guess the hardest job now was going to be keeping my mind focused.
The first week went like a breeze. She was so busy being shown around by Carlos and I, getting comfortable with her duties. All our conversations were plain, straight to the point. I noticed that quite often, when she’d look at me, she would squint, and nod slightly. She kept a straight face and only replied in short-form sentences when necessary. It was as if she was putting up some kind of shield in front of her. To be honest, I liked that about her, she looked like she had nerves of steel. And that was understandable, I mean, there was quite a lot of work to get done. Our busy season was just getting started, and flocks of tourists, on top of our regular locals, were already swarming us.
One thing I found out about her later was that she loved coffee. Or, should I say, she craved it. She had it straight up and black and she’d make sure she always had a piping hot cup ready within her reach at all time. She asked about it when she saw me getting my own usual morning coffee, so I told her it was one of the perks of working here. I explained: since the diner always needed the freshest pot possible on the burner, this meant that whoever contributed in getting another one to brew was welcome. Even from the slightest losses from our own staff drinking the coffee, Carlos still made crazy profits from it. So let the coffee pour!
As I was shaping up scenarios in my head of how I was going to take this anywhere with her, I thought that coffee was going to ease my way in. After all, coffee is a simple, convivial, comforting beverage, but also a familiar and harmless way to approach someone.
The plan was to bring her outside coffee in the morning, on my way to work. It wasn’t the worst cup of joe here at the diner, but nor the best, so I thought she could only appreciate the gesture.
On some Thursday morning, when I arrived at the diner, Emery’s old 1998 beat-up white Civic sedan was already there. I stepped into the bus, all jolly and confident, and I saw her, already prepping up her station. She was wearing a short sleeve button-up plaid shirt. Since she was turned against me, I was graced with a view of her exquisite and generous rump, basking in the morning sunlight, clad in a pair of tight low-waist denim capris with a studded leather belt. She looked amazing in her grunge outfits, which truly was like my napalm in the morning. And I had noticed her back view more than once, from across the hot tables, when she bent down to take orders through the bus window, but not as appealing as I was seeing it this morning.
“Here, Emery. Um. I stop by this café downtown every Thursday,” I lied. “So I thought I’d get you a nice French roast to start your day right.”
She turned around with a straight face, until she looked down at the cup I was handing her. Then, she made that squint with her eyes, again.
“Oh. Thanks, Brian,” she finally replied with a tiny smile.
She took it and placed it on the counter before turning back to prepare coffee for the diner.
So much for conversation, I thought. At least, I think she drank it all later.
Well, that was it. That was all I had in mind for a first shot, and it was over already. How was I supposed to come up with something else? Maybe it was just a sign that I should let go, and just carry on with my work?
I started thinking that all hope was lost and that she was nothing but a dead-end, a trap, just like this fucking job in general. But was it too soon to come to conclusions?
Well, I had to admit, after that, Emery became a little more, communicative. I knew she had it in her. Yes, she was already giving good, efficient customer service in her own slightly bold and forward kind of way, but she was not doing it exclusively for them anymore. She started spreading that same mood back in the kitchen. She gave compliments, managed to crack a few jokes here and there, actually saying more than just work related stuff. She was growing comfortable.
And, I swear, sometimes she would start dancing around between taking orders. Just shimmying her butt in rhythm with the swing soundtrack playing outside. That sure helped making her look a little more playful than she was letting it show. Whenever she’d do that, I’d fall in a brief trance, thinking how her generous ass in those tight jeans looked just as hot as those huge boobs of hers.
Indeed, those were all but short glimpses that I caught among the rest, because I was so swamped most of the time. I rarely had a chance to send back any of her little attempts at being nice with us.
She never missed an occasion to flaunt her body and allow you to take a peek. I guess she had that kind of nature, her special magic touch. She’d walk around her station and strike a fleeting pose for the simplest of gestures, like pouring water or typing on the cash register; she would arch her back and stick her ass out whenever she picked up something; she squeezed her boobs to the maximum between her arms when she bent down to take orders, shaping up this mind-blowing cleavage. She strutted around this way all day by never letting it look too intentional.
One day, I stumbled upon her at the staff picnic table. Stranded among piles of dirt and weeds behind our rusty and smelly dumpster, that table was all beat-up and sun-bleached, the kind you’d sit on and risk getting splinters on your ass. It was late afternoon and our lunch rush was pretty much over. With a coffee at her side, she was leaning on her elbows and tilted back her head to catch some sun, which was still very hot at that time of day. Her position caused the whole mass of her breasts jutting out, reaching back at the sun, on the verge of bursting out Emery’s shirt.
I made sure I made a racket by throwing my garbage in the dumpster to make myself heard and not scare her, but she never even moved in the slightest to shift and make her chest a little less obvious. No. She just stood still, letting it all out; shamelessly.
“Geez, what a day; right?” I said, clearing my throat.
She scoffed and looked away to nothing in particular through her sunglasses.
“Yup,” she simply replied, raising her eyebrows.
Shaking my head slightly at her increasingly unnerving lack of conversation, I proceeded to chuck my other garbage bag in the dumpster.
“So, does Carlos ever come here for more than 20 minutes at a time? And for more than just coming to count his money?” she suddenly said, out of the blue.
I was taken aback by her observation, but it was true. The boss had a habit of leaving for long hours at a time. You’d think he would supervise a little more those people that he put in charge; whether it was groundskeeper Janet, or old Darcy at accounting. Darcy worked her ass off in the warehouse at the back to prepare a vivid look for the owner of how profits grew daily. She was pretty much Carlos’s personal accountant, tallying expenses even for all of his endeavors, which I had no clue what they were.
Mostly, he was just gone, running errands in his Astro Van, handling some PR or doing whatever the fuck an owner does for his business.
“What do you mean?” I said, trying to see where she was going with this.
“Well, today was quite busy, as a matter of fact. But all he did was walk aimlessly around the diner with his wife. He looked like he lost his contact lenses in the flower beds, I don’t know, but he could have come to help with the line-up instead, and use his charm to tone down the growing impatience that I had to deal with.”
I laughed when she made finger quotes on the word “charm”. I was sensing that Emery might have a bit of a cynical personality. I wasn’t going to lie: I liked that a lot.
I mean, were we going to start talking behind the boss’s back now? Was I finally going to have an opportunity to speak my mind to someone about the man that’s been rotting my life for the past 2 years?
Laying on the table and looking overly confident, like she always did, I just stared at her jugs, because, hey, she was letting me look, dammit. Was this another trap, or was I just being paranoid?
“Yup, that’s good old Carlos, for you,” I said, snapping out of my daydreaming. “This is his kingdom, and we are his low and humble servants.”
I was afraid my analogy was going to make us start giving him many other not so flattering nicknames. So I added:
“But, fair warning, though: don’t ever piss him off,” I laughed. “I know that old fart can get ugly when he’s mad; Trust me.”
Not only was she new, but she basically knew me as Carlos’ right arm. Still, my calling him an old fart would surely clarify my position towards him, even while being his so-called top employee. That didn’t make me love him more. Far from it.
She looked at me, unaltered from my words, and we just left it at that as I walked away, nodding. Still, I felt that we just connected, somehow.
After that, I had more than a few opportunities to open myself a little more towards Emery. For example, there would be times where drink orders were coming in a lot more than food. She’d get swamped with specialty coffees, pop refills, juice and even ice cream orders.
That was when I started offering her my help, since there were a few basic things I knew how to do for the front of the house. Among those, my favorite was definitely the milkshakes. I had to say they were quite popular, and they were advertised in bright bold letters on the billboard: we really had to live up to it.
The thing was that Carlos had a partnership with a local craft dairy shop. They came up with this special recipe for our milkshake that made it extra thick and silky. We’d top it off with fruits, caramel chips, cookie dough or whatever, and a little parasol, making the final product super sexy, and call it our own. But the blend came in large bags, unmixed. So that was where the hostess came in to prepare the drink in what must be the loudest mixer that I’ve ever heard.
That mixer had a 10 liter capacity, convenient for many orders at once. Its reliable 100 watt motor was perfect to crush everything we put in there. Even though it bore a brand that’s no longer part of today’s household landscape, it still worked perfectly. But it was loud and very unsteady, so much that you had to hold it down by the lid with two hands every time you started it. And our milkshakes needed a good 20 second spin until desired consistency.
It was a hassle, but it made a great milkshake. Fresh.
Now, I guess you saw me coming with this? Can you picture the new girl, operating this hellish contraption? That’s right. Every time Emery would get an order for milkshake, she knew she was going to have to brace herself and hold it quite steady despite her decent strength and corpulence.
Then it began. She would press the button and the mixer started bucking and thrashing like a wild beast. As impossible as it seemed, considering the usual tightness of her clothes, Emery’s own milk jugs would start gyrating around, and threaten to pop out her top! She found a way to keep them from potentially doing so by holding them down with her arms while she held on to the lid on the mixer. Occasionally, she’d look down and, I guess, made sure her tits were still in place. She was well aware of the risks that her assets were exposed to, but every time she walked out of a battle with the mixer, she would blow a strand of hair from over her face with a proud smile, and simply readjusted her clothes as needed. She returned to the order window with a staggered breath and rosey cheeks, beaming like a champion. It was so fucking sexy.
Every time she pressed that button, I dedicated myself to stop everything I was doing only to watch, as her whole body was taken by these tremors. I almost felt privileged from being t

Open Mic Night: Chapter 1

Mon, 15 Aug 2022 11:30:44 -0500

Open Mic Night: Chapter 1,
David auditions with young slut to win a bigger prize.
By nectarines_are_peachy.Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
The crowd was howling with laughter. I stood there, mic in one hand, beer bottle in the other and examined them. I had the biggest of grins on my face. I couldn’t see much with the lights in my eyes and the audience in darkness but their laughter, bending double and slamming tables told me all I needed to know. I had used up all my good material so I decided I would just duck out. Always leave them wanting more, you know?
“My name is David Andies and you guys have been a wonderful fucking audience!” I shouted into the mic as I reset it in the stand. I stepped off stage and the crowd burst in to applause and whistling.
Mandy, the MC, was standing just off stage. She looked at me, her mouth wide open.
“Honestly dude, I did not expect you to be so fucking funny!” she said. She was just staring at me, not blinking.
I hadn’t been to many open mic nights but none of them had gone like this. I could feel the adrenaline just fucking pumping through me. My heart felt like it was going to burst through my chest. I needed a piss, badly.
“Don’t you go on to introduce the next act?” I asked, trying desperately to hold in my piss and not check Mandy out at the same time. She was my age, mid 30s, and had a great figure. Huge ass, lovely big boobs and curly black shoulder length hair. She was a good bit shorter than my 6 foot 2 so I had a lovely view of her cleavage. The things I’d do to her! The beer was definitely having an affect on me.
“Nah, dude. I don’t think anyone can follow that for a while. I’ll just say there’s an intermission,” she winked at me before bouncing back out on to the stage.
As I headed for the toilet I heard Mandy praise the shit out of me and announce a 30 minute hiatus on the comedy for people to get drinks, go for a smoke or whatever. She was letting some of the energy out of the room to give the next guy a bit of a chance.
Standing at the urinal with my cock out a bunch of college aged guys came in. They looked like Frat boys with their hats turned backwards. They recognized me and started hanging around me, telling me how funny I was, what a good set it was etc. I didn’t want to seem impolite, but I did have my cock out and was trying to piss.
“Hey guys, thanks for the compliments but how about I buy you some beers when we’re all back at the bar? I am trying to take a leak here!” I suggested. They took the hint and agreed. Though not before one of the guys looked down to see my dick.
“Holy shit dude, what do you feed that thing?!” That made them all look. Now, instead of my comedy, they were fascinated by my cock. I’ve zero issues with how anyone wants to live their life or wherever they wanna stick their whatever but I’m straight. I love big tits and big asses and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Plus, my cock has gotten this reaction before, though usually from women.
“Thanks guys, I grew it myself,” I said stuffing it back in my pants and trying to laugh the attention off. “See you back at the bar, yeah?” I pushed past them to wash my hands and leave.
“Hey buddy, do you want a bump?” One of the frat boys offered as I was leaving.
“Not tonight, thanks! Maybe next time!”
Back at the bar, I was ordering another beer when Mandy tapped me on the shoulder. I looked around but she was looking past me. She nodded at the bartender and two beers appeared in front of us. I tried to pay but Mandy said they were on her. I offered my bottle for a clink.
“Cheers,” I said. She reciprocated and took a swig. She never broke eye contact. Badass.
I looked around the joint, it was small but kinda classy. Ok, less classy and more dingy, but not entirely dingy! The walls were black with red waves painted on them and the ubiquitous photos of famous stand-ups who had passed through these hallowed gallows. The beer, my desire for Mandy and my heart-rate was inhibiting my game.
“So, you been doing this long?” I asked, desperate to continue the conversation.
“Yeah, a few years now. It pays the bills and it’s the kind of hours I like to work. Plus, I dig funny guys.” she smirked. I nearly choked on my beer.
“Do you now?” I replied, trying to act cool.
“Yeah, and we’re close to the college so business is usually pretty good.” I nodded along. “So have YOU been doing this long?” She waved her hand in the general direction of the stage.
“Comedy? Oh, this is my fourth open night. First one here and none of the others went as well as this one. Maybe cos you weren’t there?” She smiled slyly. I was 100% sure she could see straight through my bullshit. But hopefully she felt the same.
Mandy ordered more drinks and while her back was turned the Frat boys from the restroom showed up. They were still slapping my back and calling me dude. They looked high and drunk. I doubt if they’d remember any of my set the next night. I felt a million years old compared to these guys. But I honored my promise and ordered them a round of drinks.
From out of nowhere, the Frat boys produced a young woman, barely 21 years old and tiny. Well, not tiny everywhere, maybe a C cup, but slim, big eyed and iron-straight blonde hair. But she was not even close to Mandy’s, which were about DDD. She looked nervous, possibly drunk.
“Hi, are you ok?” I tried to sound encouraging.
“I heard you have a big one”, she said quietly. The frat boys burst out laughing. Her face reddened but she kept looking at me. Then looked at my crotch, then back to me. I raised my eyebrows.
“A big…?” I asked, not believing she was actually talking about that.
“COCK” she practically shouted. The frat boys howled some more. She looked at them then back at me. Usually the women I hooked up with were way closer to my age.
“Ok. And say I do, what then?” I really wanted out of this conversation but didn’t know how to extricate myself. And of course that’s when Mandy joins in, she handed me a full bottle of beer.
“Who are there lovely, young people David?” she was smiling but I could tell she was happy. I tried to play it off as coolly as I could.
“They’re just saying how much they enjoyed the show” I said.
“Yeah,” one of the Frat boys shouted, “the show in the john!”
“You put on a show in the restroom?” Mandy said, raising an eyebrow.
“I was taking a leak and…” I started.
“Man, this guy is hung!” one of the drunker Frat boys shouted. “He’s got a fucking anaconda in his pants!”
“One of the biggest I’ve ever seen,” said another.
“We told Kendra about it and she wanted to see for herself. So come on, dude, whip it out!” the guy who saw it first said.
I looked at Mandy, pleading. I wanted to hook up with her and I had a pretty good feeling that if I showed this group my johnson she’d bail.
“I’m sorry guys, that’s not my thing,” I said trying to turn away. To my surprise Mandy stood still.
“Are you sure?” she said, folding her arms under her huge breasts, making them test the fabric of the top she was wearing. This really threw me for a loop.
“Well, I wouldn’t mind showing you… but not in public! And let’s be honest guys,” I said looking at the Frat boys, “You’ve already had a look.”
“If you can show me, you can show her,” Mandy said, nodding at Kendra.
“Will this affect my chances…?” before I could finish Mandy was pulling me backstage. Kendra came following after, tottering in her high heel shoes.
So there we were, the three of us in the tiny, bare dressing room I had been about thirty minutes before. Mandy seemed kinda pissed and Kendra was still looking high.
“Ok, out with it,” Mandy ordered.
“Y'know, I hoped we’d hook up tonight but didn’t think it’d go like this,” I said, joking. Mandy didn’t look impressed. “In fact, before I do whip it out… did I have a chance?”
“Quit the yakking!” Mandy said, slapping me playfully on the chest.
“Ok, ok!” I said, unbuckling my belt and opening and unzipping my jeans.
I shook them down to my knees so they could get a view of what I/it looked like in my tight white boxer shorts. Kendra squealed but I didn’t really care about her reaction. I looked up at Mandy. She was staring right at my bulging underwear.
She glanced up at me. “And the rest!”
I paused. “Hang on, if I measure up, will you book me in for another night?” Always gotta be hustling, you know!
“We’ll see when we see!” Mandy waggled her finger, telling me to pull down the boxers.
I peeled the underwear off me, down to meet my jeans at the knee. While still bent over, I jerked my flaccid cock a few times, letting it decompress after being squashed in the boxers. I stood up straight, clenched my butt cheeks and pushed my hips slightly forward. I wanted to give a good first impression.
Mandy gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.
“Oh my god!” Kendra screamed! “It’s freaking huge!” She stepped forward fell on to her knees right in front of me. She was looking directly at my cock. She took a hold of it in one hand and lifted it. She couldn’t get one hand around the shaft even when it was soft. She looked up at me in shock.
“Wait till it gets hard!” I said.
“It certainly is very big, David!” Mandy looked from Kendra and my cock up to me. “Very impressive!”
Kendra put my cock against her face.
“It’s so soft and smooth and warm,” she said.
“I’m glad you like,” I said, not taking my eyes off Mandy.
“I haven’t tried it yet,” she replied smirking.
“You’re more than welcome to, whenever you want!” I shot back.
“Take off your shirt,” Mandy ordered me. I unbuttoned two buttons and whipped it off over my head.
“Would you do me the same courtesy?” I nodded at Mandy’s impressive chest.
“We’ll see!” her smirk turning to a full blown smile.
I looked down and Kendra had taken off her turquoise top, revealing her C cup boobs were more like small Bs but with padding. That made me want Mandy all the more! Kendra was now stroking my cock with both hands and licking the head. I was starting to get hard.
My cock was lengthening and thickening. Kendra put the head of it in her mouth.
I was trying to keep eye contact with Mandy but the pleasure made me close my eyes in bliss.
Before I knew it, Mandy was standing right beside me. Her huge breasts pressing against my chest. The two of us looking down at the young woman struggling to get my cock into her mouth. One hand on my shoulder, the other holding my chin Mandy kissed me deeply, fiercely. I kissed her back. I pulled her closer to me, one hand squeezing her ass. She moaned into me.
Kendra was still sucking the thick head of my cock, running her hands up and down my shaft. She was struggling with the size but it felt amazing. I was getting harder than I had been in a long time. This was the first time I had been with more than one woman. A cute little slut sucking my cock and a busty woman my own age grinding up on me. I broke the kiss with Mandy but still held her close.
“What are we going to do?” I spoke softly. Mandy reached down to my crotch and took a hold of my balls.
“Well, I think we’re going to have to take care of these! Kendra, lick his balls!” Mandy ordered the younger woman around. And Kendra followed the orders! This could be interesting! She took my cock out of her mouth, having to open wide just to disengage, lifted the shaft up and licked my huge heavy balls. It felt so good.
“Mmmmm, you like that, don’t you, you horse hung stud! Mandy said, pulling my hair.
“Yes!” I squeaked. She licked my neck, sending a jolt down my spine.
“Get undressed,” Mandy said turning her attention to Kendra. “You’re going to take his cock.” I looked at Mandy, shocked. I’m not gonna lie, I was a little disappointed that I wasn’t going to get to fuck Mandy.
Kendra let go of my cock, making it fall and pull me forward with a twang. She stood up and took off the rest of her clothes. She was slimmer than she looked in them. I looked over to Mandy with all her curves and wanted to grab her and fuck her hard.
She took out a silver case from her back pocket, opened it and tapped out a line of white powder on my cock.
“Coke?” I asked.
“Well, it ain’t Viagra!” she said as she bent over and sniffed the fat line off my fat cock. She whipped her head back, holding her nostrils closed. Her eyes bulged, she grabbed me and kissed me. I hoped all my open mic nights like this!
“You are going to put that,” she said, pointing at my cock “there!” pointing at the poor Kendra’s tiny pussy. She sniffed again. “If she can survive that thing, I’ll give it a go!”
My cock began tingling and could feel it getting harder. I was also getting a rush. Must’ve been from the coke. I had never done it before so this was all new to me.
“Kendra, you get on the couch, he’s gonna fuck you with that donkey dick of his.” Mandy was totally in control now. Kendra did as she was told and got on the couch. She scooched forward so her ass was hanging off the edge, her puffy pussy lips ready for fucking.
“Kneel in front of her,” Mandy instructed me, her eyes wide. I was in no mood to argue. If I couldn’t fuck Mandy, I was going to fuck the shit out of this little slut.
I kneeled in front of her, the size difference becoming real. I was taller and bigger than Kendra in every way and my cock was gonna find it tough to even get inside.
Mandy sat beside Kendra to get a good view. She pulled her top down and lifted one of her huge breasts out. It looked amazing, so big and soft. She pulled Kendra’s head towards it and Kendra took the hint. She started sucking the little nib of a nipple. Mandy unbuttoned her jeans with one hand and started rubbing herself. She looked at me, so sultry and sexy.
“Fuck her,” she ordered.
What choice did I have! I pushed my rock hard cock forward straight into Kendra’s slit. Of course I was way too wide. I looked at Mandy, pleading.
She took her hand out of her jeans, licked her fingers and reached down. She took the head of my cock in her hand and smeared my pre-cum with the mix of her pussy juice and saliva, making a home made lube. It also felt amazing!
“Now! Fuck! Her!” she barked, going back to rubbing herself. I looked at Kendra, lucky enough to be sucking that huge tit. I was so jealous.
I pushed my cock head into her, her cunt lips stretch around my helmet. Eventually, it popped inside her, making Kendra gasp and lose Mandy’s tit she was sucking. I smirked to myself. Kendra squealed but Mandy pulled her head back to her huge boob.
I ploughed further into Kendra’s tiny cunt, pushing my thick cock further into her, inch by inch. I looked down and saw Kendra’s pubes were shaved into a neat heart shape but all it made me think of was Mandy’s pubes. I hoped they were raven black like the hair on her head. I wanted to lick Mandy’s pussy, I wanted to dive between her legs and eat forever.
My cock was nearly halfway into Kendra’s pussy. The combination of my cock and her tit sucking was getting her nice and wet, making it feel nice and slippery for me. She was moaning and crying but Mandy’s huge tit was smothering the sounds. I reached up and grabbed her B cup out of habit but it barely filled my palm.
I let go of her Kendra’s tit and reach out for Mandy’s. She slapped my hand away.
“Keep fucking her,” she said, delirious in pleasure.
It felt like I couldn’t get any more of my cock into Kendra, my thickness stretching her pussy lips obscenely. She pulled her face away from Mandy’s breast.
“It’s too big, it’s tearing me!” she cried. I kept fucking her and I reached down and rubbed her clit. I probably should have done that from the start because as soon as I did she went fucking wild! Mandy looked at me, surprised.
Kendra pushed my hand away and rubbed her own clit. She was getting crazy wet. I pushed further and further in. Now I was nearly all the way in, only an inch or two not inside her. Mandy pulled her back to suckle on her soft breast and I gave one last thrust in.
All of my cock was in Kendra now. Her hand rubbed her clit like crazy and she came. She clamped her legs together and her body spasmed. The orgasm jolted through her. She kept one hand on her clit and she let go of Mandy’s breast, letting her face rest against it.
Mandy and I were taken by surprise so we just let her ride it out and then catch her breath.
“You ok?” Mandy asked, seemingly genuine. Kendra was still shaking, my cock still buried all the way in her.
“Mmm,” was all she could say, her eyes closed. “I have never come like that before!” I moved backwards, trying to remove my still diamond hard cock from her clamp like pussy. Kendra complained. “No, don’t take it out!! Fuck me again! Please!”
“See, not only did she survive it, she’s looking for seconds,” I said to Mandy, really hoping I could still hook up with her. She eyed me, deciding something.
“Ok, you guys tidy up here and once the bar is closed up, you and I will come back here. Deal?” she said taking her hand from her jeans, offering it for a handshake.
“Deal,” I said. Instead of shaking her hand, I took her hand in my mouth and sucked the pussy juice from her fingers.
Mandy laughed to herself, stood up and tidied herself. She put her huge boob back in the bra and straightened her clothes. She checked herself in the mirror and left.
“Have fun, you two!” she said. I watched her ass as she left. Man, I really wanted to get inside those jeans, I thought to myself. For the time being I would have to take my frustration out on poor little Kendra, though she didn’t seem to mind!
To be continued.
By nectarines_are_peachy for Literotica.

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The Riviera NaturalistA walk on a naturist beach leads to a...

Sun, 14 Aug 2022 11:30:55 -0500

The Riviera Naturalist
A walk on a naturist beach leads to a surprising encounter.
By Slowandeasy47 - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
The beauty of being in a beach house, right on the sand, was that Nigel just fell out of bed, pulled on his swimmies, jumped into his flip flops and went for a walk on the beach. It was the perfect way to wake up. Actually, most mornings he didn’t even bother with the swimmies as the beach was “Naturiste”, as were a lot of beaches in this area of France.
So, towel slung over his shoulder, he set off at about seven thirty most mornings to walk for half an hour in one direction or the other, then return for a slap up breakfast. The towel was for those occasions when the water looked irresistibly tempting, which was about half the time.
There wasn’t much traffic on the beach at that time of day, just the occasional dog walker or someone power walking with weights in their hands. Some of these passers-by were in shorts and t shirts, some preferred to be naked, like himself. No one paid any attention but he did feel that power walking in the nude looked a little absurd.
The water looked tempting so he put his towel down, kicked off his flip flops and headed into the waves. Sheeesh, the water was cold, well not cold exactly just chilly enough to make him catch his breath. He never knew which way this was going to affect him when it reached his crotch. Usually cold water caused a certain shrinkage in the genital department but sometimes it had the opposite effect. He put this down to one of his earliest sexual experiences which had involved cold water.
“Strange how that can affect you fifty years on.” He mused.
This particular morning it was shrinkage that won the day and after an energetic swim he returned to his towel and dried himself off, unconcerned that his penis had virtually vanished. It would return when warmer.
“Bonjour, bien nagé? (Enjoy your swim?)” Nigel looked up to see Maggie; a naked, buxom, late middle aged lady, with a grey hair and massively heavy boobs walking slowly past.
“Ah oui, mais je ne parle pas français. (Ah, yes. But I don’t speak French.)” Which was not exactly true, but usually put an end to these encounters.
“Actually,” Maggie said, “mine’s not that good either. I have noticed you swimming some mornings while out for my walk. Was the water cold, or just refreshing?” She paused, legs astride, with her hands on her generous hips.
“Certainly refreshing.” He said noticing her well-trimmed bush of light grey hair barely concealing the delights below.
“I must try it sometime, but I’m not a strong swimmer so I don’t venture in much.” Then Maggie added; “Not unless there are plenty of people around to pull me out if I get into trouble.”
Nigel’s mind wandered to the delightful possibilities of rescuing this voluptuous female, swimming on his back with one arm clenched about her bosom and her ample buttocks grazing his crotch.
“I myself, only swim if the water is reasonably calm. I’m no life guard but I’d be happy to keep an eye on you if you wanted to join me one morning.”
“Well, that’s a great offer, “ she winked. “I might just take you up on it, bye for now.” And she strode off, generous buttocks wobbling delightfully with every stride.
A couple of days of rain followed so no early morning walk. Then a bright sunny morning lured Nigel out again. After a few hundred yards he noticed a well-built woman coming from the opposite direction, towel slung over her shoulder. The form took shape as it approached, he’d recognize those pendulous breasts anywhere.
“Bonjour,” Maggie hailed him. “Is it a swimming morning, and if so, may I join you? The water looks so inviting.”
“I was contemplating a quick dip,” he lied, hoping to keep the conversation alive, “but I expect the water will be cold after all the rain so it may just be a quickie.” Oh shit, had he really just said that? A quickie! Sometimes his mouth ran ahead of his brain.
“A quickie’s fine by me for a first go.” She said, putting him out of his discomfort. Was that a cheeky smirk he noticed on her lips?
She bent down to leave her towel by her shoes and he couldn’t help but notice those magnificent breasts swinging pendulously as gravity took hold.
“Bloody boobs, they’re such a nuisance!” Maggie blurted. “I’ve carried them round for a whole lifetime, only use them for a few months to feed a couple of children. Then they continue to grow, sag, and generally get in the way.”
“They look pretty damn good to me.” Nigel mumbled, trying not to say anything too risqué.
Then the two made for the water’s edge. It was really quite chilly and Nigel’s old fears surfaced. He was only two steps away from a naked, buxom, extremely desirable, female and wading into cold water.
If he had been sitting, chatting on a nice, safe, warm beach this would never be a concern. He’d long since got over the problem of spontaneous erections on ‘clothing optional’ beaches, half of France seemed to be that way these days and mixed sex nudity never gave him the slightest problem: in the warm.
Now he was wading into cold water. Past the knees: no problem. Then it reached his balls at the same time as it lapped over her bush, wetting it enticingly, revealing her all. At that moment he noticed her goose bumps and his cock stirred. Oh please no! But his pleading didn’t work so he plunged quickly in just as his erection became too obvious to hide.
“That’s a bit brave.” She said, wading across towards him. Her trimmed crotch was now inches from his face and she must be able to see his stiff cock through the crystal clear water. What to do? He couldn’t just sit there staring at her pussy but if he stood up…
“I say! I don’t usually provoke a response like that,” she said pointing to his erection.
“It’s a long story.” He blurted.
“Quite long, but try me,” She smiled. “I like long stories, particularly about erections.”
“Well,” Nigel started. “One of my first ever sexual experiences was at the age of about six.”
“Six!! Precocious or what? Go on and for pity sake stand up it looks as if you are staring at my snatch.” She feigned disapproval.
He stood and faced out to sea.
“As I said, I was about six and on a visit to the barber for a haircut when I saw a newspaper on the table. The front page had a picture of a young lady, in a skimpy bikini, standing up to her crotch in the sea. It was obviously cold as you could see her goose bumps and I got the first erection I ever remember. I had no idea what it was, just that it felt good and cold water often has that effect on me to this day, particularly if girls in skimpy bikinis set my imagination off. Sorry about that but that’s the way it is.” Nigel confessed.
“So are you saying,” Maggie speculated. “That my 'skimpy bikini’ set your imagination off?”
“Well, you have to admit, they don’t get any more skimpy than the one you’re not wearing!” Nigel said with a wink.
“Yes, but what about your imagination?” Maggie surmised. “Am I to assume you were having erotic thoughts about me as well?”
“It would appear so.” Nigel admitted, with a vulnerable tone of honesty.
“You lusty horny boy!” She chided with a grin that revealed her pleasure, as she gently encircled his cock in one hand. “What are we to do with this then? You can’t walk out of the sea with a raging hard on, it’s sticking out like a barber’s pole, appropriately enough! Everyone will know what’s going on and this is not the hedonistic Cap d'Adge Resort.” Then she reached around and began a gentle back and forth motion sliding his foreskin slowly over the head of his cock and back again. The cold water hit the uncovered head, made it twitch, and his erection stiffened even more.
“Christ! No viagra needed here. I’ve never seen a reaction like it!” She moved her other hand round behind him, still stroking him slowly, rested her ample bosom on his back and cupped his balls with the other hand.
“I think we are going to have to relieve the tension somehow, don’t you? Just relax and let me take care of it for you.” Her strokes got a little longer, not faster but longer, “Nice eh? Like that don’t you?” She asked.
Every time the head of his cock dipped into the cold water a tingling shot up his spine.
“Relax and enjoy the memory of that bikini girl.” Maggie encouraged him. “I bet you’ve wanked yourself silly to that memory over the years. Just imagine I am she and you are getting your first ever hand job.”
His breathing accelerated along with his pulse, the sensations were fantastic then he let out a little guttural sound.
“About to cum are we? Cum for your bikini girl, with cold water lapping at her pretty little cunt?” With that she let go of his balls, raked her fingers through his chest hair, grabbed his left nipple and pinched hard. She felt the result immediately. Twitch, jerk, as he sent little short spurts of cum into the sea.
“Well, well, horny boy, that should do the trick!” She let go of his cock and it started to relax almost immediately. After a blissful interlude of orgasm, she took him by the hand and walked toward the shore.
“Well,” she said as they departed the waves, “that was something new! The only problem is that you’ve shot your load into the sea and I’m literally dripping with excitement. That was so bloody sexy.”
“I like to make you breakfast as a thank-you. I only live a few hundred meters down the beach.” He offered his hospitality. She accepted the invitation.
They walked down together talking about this, that, and nothing in particular.
“I really was just looking for a swimming partner, but I got carried away when I saw your reaction to the cold water.” Maggie confessed. “I never had a planned intention of anything sexual. Besides I’m single and enjoying it, definitely not looking for a complicated relationship.”
“I am in pretty much the same boat so, sorry about the runaway willy thing.” Nigel pleaded.
“Please don’t apologize. You have no idea how flattering it is for a girl to see someone produce a stiffy like that in her company; without any, shall we say, physical encouragement!”
They had breakfast in his cabana, and discussed their previous lives, failed relationships and so on.
“Maybe next time I’ll get a swim?” She supplicated.
“I would like there to be a next time. I really admire your confidence and I probably admired your figure for rather longer than I should have.”
“Lusty horny boy.” She admonished with a smirk.
“Well it was you that started it, grabbing my cock.”
“I wouldn’t have grabbed it if it hadn’t been swinging about so dangerously.” Maggie said in her justification.
“I don’t think it was trying to inflict any serious harm to female company!”
They both giggled, then she got up from her chair and straddling her ample naked buttocks on his lap, sat on his knee and toyed with his nipple.
“Look, I know neither of us is interested in a relationship,” Maggie said, frankly. “But you’ve got me horny, it’s all your fault with your cold water stiffy. I sorted out your problem, I think it’s only fair that you sort out mine.”
He couldn’t believe his ears, so he pulled her shoulders into him and kissed her fully on the mouth. Their tongues melded and her legs further parted, involuntarily. He allowed his hand to wander between her welcoming thighs and his index finger slipped easily into her obviously excited wet cunt.
“God, you take your time!” She exclaimed, “I’ve been climbing the walls since you told me that story about your first erection. I’ve been waiting here, dripping like a teenager. For crying out loud are we going to shag or what?” Maggie pleaded with obvious frustration.
Nigel led her to his bedroom & laid her out on her back with her knees bent over the end of the bed, her voluptuous breasts resting, one on either side of her chest. He spread her thighs, knelt down and lowered his mouth to her waiting pussy. Running his tongue from bottom to top of her moistness he elicited appreciative murmurs every time he reached her clit.
After a few minutes the outer lips, engorged with her excitement, parted to offer the little pink petals of her inner lips and the hood of her clit retracted allowing her bud to peek out provocatively. Judging by the way she was thrashing her head from side to side and making gurgling noises she was getting close. He covered the whole of her sex with his mouth and sucked hard, then licked her protruding clit with light upward movements. Her legs crossed over his back, her thighs clamped his head in place and she shuddered as her orgasm washed over her.
“Fuck, that was good. One all I say.” But he hadn’t finished yet. All the excitement had reawakened his cock and, whereas it wasn’t anything like as stiff as it had been earlier, it was certainly ready for more action. He repositioned her farther up on the bed, rolled her onto her all fours, and pulled her ample hips upwards towards him. Her generous bum filled his view and her cunt was beautifully presented, like some bitch on heat. He moved in on his knees behind her, grabbed a haunch in each hand and slid his cock slowly and deeply into her eager wetness.
His back and forth motions were met with noises of appreciation as he stoked the walls of her sex with his cock, searching for that elusive g spot. Clearly he found it as she started to get much more voluble. Normally he didn’t last very long, particularly if he was buried in a wet and eager pussy, but as it was his second time in as many hours, he was far from coming. Suddenly she lowered her chest to the bed, yelled something about a lusty horny boy; pushed herself forcefully backwards onto him. He felt her orgasmic contractions as her cunt involuntarily clamped his cock & tried to milk his balls..
She flopped forwards onto the bed and his cock sprang free glistening with her juices, but still eagerly preparing another eruption of cum..
“Lie on your back, dirty boy.” Maggie commanded and when Nigel did as he was told, she straddled facing him and lowered herself onto his waiting erection, which slid easily home into the moist interior of her pussy.
“I am now going to fuck your brains out, dirty, dirty boy.” And she started to ride him cowgirl. Her hips ground on his pelvis as she tried to take every last millimeter deep inside and his hands made their way to those magnificent breasts. He caressed them then ran her nipples between finger and thumb.
“Harder, pinch harder.” Maggie encouraged, “I love having my tits treated roughly. Harder, as hard as you like!” They rode together cowgirl, him pinching her nipples, she running her hand across his hairy, firm chest.
“Let me have your cum,” she mewed, reaching behind to massage his balls, “I’m the girl in the bikini, standing up to my pretty little cunt in cold water. Give me your cum right now.”
He felt a familiar sensation deep inside. She sensed what was happening and ground her clit hard onto his pelvis then paused to feel his warm semen blast deep inside her.
“Next time, horny boy, I want a fucking swim, OK?”
By Slowandeasy47 for Literotica

A Tantric Experience – Better Than SexA first experience of...

Sat, 13 Aug 2022 11:30:46 -0500

A Tantric Experience – Better Than Sex
A first experience of tantric eroticism.
By Slowandeasy47 - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Time had moved on since Rob’s super erotic encounter with July, he even remembered her name. The memory of hearing the two people next door having sex, just the other side of the flimsy partition, had stayed with him as well as the lingering picture of July straddling him, her naked bum sliding up and down on his thighs as she held his cock hard against her naval and rubbed her clit on his shaft. His orgasm had been explosive but he had, so far, been unable to repeat the eroticism of listening to two people actually having sex.
However, he knew what he liked and the birth of the internet had reduced all that tedious searching through the small ads. Through his many encounters with commercial ‘satisfaction’ he had come to the conclusion that a quick bang was really bad value. Prostitutes seldom seemed to care about client satisfaction, with the exception of Jocelyn, but she was something else and, sadly now, somewhere else.
So the massage parlor was still his venue of choice. Unfortunately, as he discovered, the massages nowadays usually consisted of a quick, not very expert, shoulder rub followed by either a very quick blow job or an even quicker shag. Not particularly satisfying.
His new home was in an unexplored area so he dived into the internet to check out the possibilities. After trolling through all the usual rubbish he thought he might click on the tag “Specials”, expecting it to be a bit weird or even kinky.
The sub heading Massage didn’t really excite him as all the other adds proclaimed 'massage by expert hands’ and were simply a euphemism for sex.
However, on page two one ad caught his eye. Then another.
“Full body Tantric massage, no oral or full house available,” So, if there was no actual sex on offer she must be a proper masseuse. He scrolled down and saw several more with same sort of tag, "No oral or full house offered”.
He began to get quite interested and set about choosing who he might call. 'Tantric’ was intriguing, and 'full body massage’ was a must. He started scanning down through the pictures when one caused him to stop and take particular notice.
It was from a red head, wearing only a bright red silky nighty with very fine shoulder straps. She was kneeling on a bed, facing the camera with a big smile on her face and a glorious view down the valley between her generous breasts.
He started to read her script. “Try my Full Body Tantric Massage for the ultimate in relaxation. You’ve never had a massage until you have tried Tantra. No oral or full house on offer.”
Phew! That sounds plain enough! The photograph was clearly intimating that something short of the full house was definitely on the cards, and what magnificent breasts. He imagined his hands running over their fulsome curves. And Tantra? The only thing he knew about Tantra was that it was super slow and the old joke. Tantric sex is like waiting for a plumber, you stay in all night and nobody comes! Not exactly what he was looking for, he definitely wanted to come, but very slowly.
The next day, not too early, he picked up the courage to call her number. A slightly husky voice answered.
“Hi, it’s Sam.”
“I’ve just read your advert for a tantric massage and would like to make an appointment.”
“Have you had a tantric massage before? Sorry I didn’t catch your name.”
“Er, it’s Rob and no I haven’t.”
“OK, that’s fine. You know that there’s no full house or oral on offer, don’t you?”
“Yes certainly, in fact that’s why I chose you.”
“Great, that’s a good start. So, Rob, would you like to know more.”
“Please.”
“Well a tantric massage is all about eroticism but not actually about sex. We will both be naked from the start, no towels or clothes to get in the way of the sensual experience. There will be some body to body contact, particularly on your back and every inch of your body will be massaged and I guarantee you will leave totally relaxed from all the stresses of modern life.”
“Sounds perfect but what happens if I get a bit, you know, excited?”
“That will almost certainly happen. It nearly always does, in fact I’d be a little surprised if it doesn’t and I take care of that too. So are you still interested?”
“Yes very much so. When can you fit me in?”
“That depends. Do you want a half an hour or a one hour?”
“From what you’ve just said, I’m not sure I could last an hour.”
“I will make quite sure you do. Remember I am something of an expert.”
“Okay, I’ll go for the hour, and Thursdays are best for me.”
“As it happens, I have a slot on Thursday at 3pm.”
“Great, see you Thursday at 3.”
This all sounded very promising and he was really looking forward to Thursday, which seemed to take an unusually long time coming round. It eventually arrived and as soon as he had his lunch he headed for the shower. After a thorough soaping and primping he texted Sam for her address as arranged.
The answer came back a moment or so later with directions to her house. Rob knew it was only about ten minutes away but he put it in the sat nav to be sure. 8 minutes. He sat clock watching until it was time to set off.
The entrance was discrete and parking simple. When the door opened he was instantly certain that he had made the right choice. She was wearing a revealing silky nighty, just like her picture on the internet. Medium height, long red hair, generous breasts, nipples obvious through the sheer fabric. Oh the anticipation.
“Hi Rob, and welcome to your tantric experience,” She held out her hand and smiled gently cocking her head slightly to one side. Her handshake was soft and gentle when he took it in his.
” Follow me,” He followed her into a warm, softly lit room containing masses of candles, plenty of mirrors and gentle background music.
“Why don’t you slip out f your clothes and I’ll be back in a moment,” and she turned and left. From the way the fabric clung to her body it was quite clear that it was all she wore and Rob, who had always been a bit of a bum man, couldn’t help but enjoy the view as the two gorgeous globes swayed towards the doorway.
He undressed and was just making his way to the table when she returned.
"OK Rob, just sit on the table and I’ll tell you a bit more about tantra. Firstly, as I said, the massage takes place with both of us totally naked so there is nothing to spoil the mood. I will massage every inch of your body in an effort to produce the ultimate sensual experience and at the end you will be totally spent, invigorated and relaxed. So,” With that she let the straps of her nighty fall off her shoulders and then let the whole ensemble fall to the floor.
"Like so,” She said. Now standing splendidly naked in front of him he could see she was a natural red head. Her bush was neatly trimmed, very short, in a rather attractive heart shape. Her pussy lips were clearly in view and her generous breasts were clearly all the work of mother nature, with upward pointing nipples, just the way he liked them. She moved forwards towards the table. He only took his eyes of her magnificent body to check out her bum in one of the many mirrors and that confirmed the delights that he had imagined when she had briefly left the room.
"Tantra is all about eroticism, so we are not going to be embarrassed about our bodies in fact we are going to revel in the sensations they can bring us. Now you can either lay on the table face down for the start of the massage or, if you feel confident enough, stand up for my tantric introduction.”
He felt far from confident and he could feel the start of an erection already. But she had just said not to be embarrassed so he took the decision to try her tantric introduction, not knowing what it was. He stood up and she spoke in a soft low tone.
“That’s great Rob, not many first timers do this. I admire your confidence. I want you to do exactly as I do, only I do it to you and you do it to me. OK?”
“Yes,” He managed to croak.
She raised her arms sideways and her magnificent breasts lifted slightly, Rob followed. She put her hands on his shoulders and he followed her cue. His cock was definitely misbehaving now, it was nearly erect. She then slid her hands down over his chest. Rob couldn’t believe this but the soft music and equally soft lighting emboldened him so he followed suit. Those magnificent, up turned, nipples grazing the palms of his hands sending a message straight to his cock.
The next move was even more erotic, she slid her hands round to his shoulder blades then, very lightly, stroked all the way down his back over his buttocks. He followed suit. He was starting to be embarrassed about his erection which was now rock hard, when her soft voice said.
"Just relax and go with the sensations,” He tried but over the next few repeats of this stroking, found it increasingly difficult. She hadn’t even touched him sexually but he was already sporting an erection he would have been proud of as a teenager.
"Very, very good,” Almost a whisper now, "you have done so well. Now I want you to lie, face down on the table,” The soothing soft music played gently in his ears as she took some oil and very gently, started to massage first one hand then the other. The massage continued on each arm in turn then his feet, calf muscles and thighs. Her strokes were firmer there, almost kneading the muscles, and the sensation was bliss.
He had almost forgotten he was lying on one of the firmest erections he’d had for ages when she drizzled some oil on his buttocks. The kneading continued over his bum and his back. She gently opened his legs a little and occasionally her hands crossed over each other with one or other finding its way into the cleft of his buttocks.
Normally he was very sensitive in this area but the pressure of a hand as it passed over his anus was a new sensation and highly erotic. Then the massage stopped for a few moments and he glanced in one of the many mirrors to see her smothering her body in oil. She languorously spread it over her breasts and stomach then made her way to the foot of the table.
First one knee made its way onto the table, between his legs, then her hands were placed either side of his chest. She brought her other knee up and slowly lowered herself into position a few inches above him. Her hair dangled on his already highly sensitized skin and she swept it back and forth: bliss.
Next she lowered the whole weight of her body onto his back and started to slide up and down rubbing the oil from her breasts onto his back. The slithering sensation was out of this world. Gradually he became aware of the coarser sensation of her neatly trimmed bush rubbing his bum. This was a whole new sensation and he wondered just how much of it he could take.
Her hair was stroking the back of his neck, her breasts sliding up and down his shoulder blades, her pubic hair pressing into his bum and she was breathing deeply into his left ear. It was as though…well it was almost as if she were getting pleasure from it herself. Slowly he realised his suspicion was correct. The more the rubbing continued, the heavier her breathing became.
Just as he began to wonder if she was actually going to bring herself off, she slowly got off the table and asked him to turn over. She looked down at him and glanced at his cock. The end was glistening with his precum and she smiled.
The front of his body received as much care as the back with the exception of the body slide and she handled his penis with great care, from time to time pulling the foreskin back to reveal his glistening glans. She trailed her hair gently over the full length of his body starting at his chest, passing over his highly sensitized cock, finishing at his feet. Several times he felt himself heading for the point of no return but each time she skillfully clasped his shaft firmly at the base until the feeling subsided.
At this point he could not stop his arm coming up to stroke her bum. She made no attempt to object, in fact she smiled down at him and mewed.
"It’s okay,” as his hand slid over the well-oiled, firm flesh. “Just not inside.”
She moved slightly further down the table and half turned towards him. Was this an invitation? His hand started to explore between her thighs, her slightly parted legs seeming to invite him further.
The outer lips of her vagina were moist and glistening as his fingers made their way up the outside of her well groomed pussy reveling in her slightly rough bush. Then his finger touched her clit. She let out a little gasp, smiled and started to massage the sensitive join between his cock and his foreskin with the ball of her thumb. He had never seen so much precum, the glans of his penis was positively glistening.
It was obvious she was enjoying this nearly as much as he was but then he felt himself about to go over the edge. A firm hand grasped the base of his cock. She knew; she’d sensed it. She was the expert she claimed to be.
“Not yet. Don’t rush,” He didn’t feel he’d been rushing. He’d been in a high state of sexual arousal for a very long time now but he continued to massage her clit with a circular motion. Her juices flowed, her vaginal lips parted and her breathing quickened. He started to rub faster when he heard her stat to pant.
"No, not faster. Slower and go even more gently. Take it ever so gently, a feather light touch,” He slowed his pace and lightened his touch. Meanwhile she had taken hold of the head of his cock and was sliding one hand after the other from the head to the root. It was as if his cock was penetrating an infinitely deep pussy.
This time there was no pause, no holding him back, and his cock felt as if it was sinking into that endless pussy. Then he experienced a long forgotten sensation in his toes that rose slowly up the inside of his thighs until it reached his balls: then he came. His orgasm was as electric as it was violent. Parts of his body even left the table as his pelvis convulsed, ejaculating with a power he remembered from his youth. Meanwhile he noticed her knees buckle slightly and she backed away from his hand.
"Wow!” He said, somewhat inadequately as the sensations subsided. “That was…”
“Tantra?” She volunteered. “Lie still for a while and enjoy the moment,” She reached for the tissues and started mopping up. She wiped the end of his highly sensitized cock with care and almost affection. Then she added.
"I thought you were going to miss it for a moment. When you speeded up on my clit. Why do men do that when they think you’re coming? It must be something to do with their own rush to orgasm. At that stage I just want it to be exquisitely slow and gentle. Thank goodness you follow instructions. It’s not every client that can make me come.”
By Slowandeasy47 for Literotica

Tutoring TessNeighbor’s daughter seeks out widower next door, to...

Fri, 12 Aug 2022 11:30:54 -0500

Tutoring Tess
Neighbor’s daughter seeks out widower next door, to help her with human sexuality lessons.
By 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?”
“OK, 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 and now to deal with. I pulled her labia apart gently with my fingers and played my tongue over the wet pink flesh revealed within. Her hips gyrated against me, so I continued to play at this. When my nose bumped her clit, she jumped and squeaked again.
I worked a fingertip into her opening, swirling it around to maximize the stimulation, while at the same time I began to gently lick and kiss her clitora

A Virgin Brit On A French Holiday: Part 2The Busty Truckdriver...

Thu, 11 Aug 2022 11:30:31 -0500

A Virgin Brit On A French Holiday: Part 2
The Busty Truckdriver in 1960s France.
By Slowandeasy47 - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
The bigger adventure now began. School finished and college not starting until October, two and a half months to find out as much as I could about life and have some serious fun.
I had started my long break by visiting my Tante Marise in her French chateau. She had taught me a lot, and introduced me to the joys of assisted showering, a pleasure that I have enjoyed throughout my life. As a French lady, she saw my typical Brit uptightness about human sexuality, and helped me about as much as a proper relative is allowed to.
Where to go next and what to do had been the two big questions. In the 1960s travel to far off lands was not really one of my options, so I decided to head for the beaches of the northern Spanish Mediterranian coast, commonly called the Riviera. Here I could live cheaply, enjoy the weather and get a proper sun tan.
Travel by air, with a tour company, was way outside my budget, but a friend had given me his hints and tips for hitch hiking long distances and now, I was in northern France planning an 800 mile hitchhike to Barcelona, or actually anywhere nearby.
Barcelona had the attraction of being in a straight line from my starting point at Tante Marise’s and the direct route was via only two roads so, with a bit of luck maybe, just maybe, only one or two changes of lift.
My first lift was a little disappointing as it didn’t even get me to Paris but the driver was pleasant enough and chatty. I supposed that life on the road could be pretty lonely and he was enjoying the company.
My next was more fruitful. It was a familiar-looking British lorry which pulled up with a hiss of airbrakes and the driver, being on the rightside door as all U K vehicles are situated; directed me round to the passenger side. To us Brits, everyone else was, of course, on the wrong side, now that we were in France.
As the passenger door swung open a cheery female voice from the depths of the cab hailed me with,
“Hop in sweetheart.”
I grabbed the handrail, put my foot on the step, and swung myself & my duffle in.
“Where you off to then?” She enquired as I stowed my bag under my legs & settled myself into the seat.
“Barcelona, or somewhere near there.” I replied, taking stock of my new surroundings. My chauffeur was very obviously female, if the voice hadn’t give her away the sight of her jiggly bust certainly did. She wore her bleached blond hair somewhat short, her tee-shirt somewhat tight around the rocking tits, and faded denim cutoffs. I guessed she was about thirty and she had a cheeky impish grin.
“So ‘ow long you going for?”
“I don’t have to be back until October to start university classes.”
“Blimey, nice work if you can get it!” and she shot me a smile that formed alluring dimples on her cheeks.
“Speaking of work,” I ventured a question.. “You’re the first female trucker I’ve ever encountered? How’s that working out?”

“My pop owns the truckline, so when they had a driver shortage, I made my pitch and showed him how well I handle a rig.”
“How’d you learn?” I asked.
“Most of my teen years were spent working the weekend freight dock, and on the slow shifts I’d practice driving when no one was around.” She explained.
The next several hundred kilometers passed in getting to know each other. Gilly was her name. She loved life on the road, often did the same runs up and down through France, knew all the best stops and frequently picked up hitchhikers for the chat and to pass the hours.
“So off for the three-S holiday are we?”
“The three S?” I said quizzically.
“Yep, the three S. Do you know you can tell someone’s age by their three esses?”
“Sorry, I’m not with you.”
“Right I’ll tell you, you just complete the third S with the first thing that comes into your head, OK?”
“OK!”
“Sun, sea and?”
“Sand!”
This reply was met with about the dirtiest sounding laugh I have ever heard in my life!
“OK, you’re about eight years old! Sun sea and sand!” More laughter, “Let’s try again. Sun, sea and?”
“Sangria?”
“Getting better, much better, but still not there. One more try.”
I am now getting nervous. The only other S I can think of is sex and I was certainly not going to say that out loud to this lady I’d only just met. She’s good company and I don’t want to get put out in the middle of nowhere.
“Sun sea and?” Came the question again. My mind was racing for an escape route and I suddenly found it.
“How many letters?” She took one hand off the wheel and started turning her fingers down one by one as she counted.
“Eight.” Phew, so it wasn’t sex. You cannot believe how relieved I was that I hadn’t said it, but eight? I racked my brains, but even sangria was only seven.
“I Give up.” I admitted. Her reply stunned my into silence. I could hardly believe my ears.
“Shagging! Shagging of course. Sun, sea, and shagging. Isn’t that why all you students head for the Costas?” My week mumblings were incoherent and never meant to be heard anyway. Gilly, with the ashen blond hair, tight T shirt and filthy laugh had just said 'Shagging’!
“Come on now.” She said placing one hand on my knee for a few seconds and flashing me her beguiling smile, dimples and all. “Don’t tell me I’m wrong.”
"Look, I bet you a quid that I’d find johnnies in your ruck sack? But I’m not giving you the quid unless you let me check. There are johnnies in your pack aren’t there?”
This was getting out of hand. This busty & fit lady had just put her hand on my knee, flashed me a smile and boxed me into a corner.
“You win.” I said reluctantly.
“Knew it. Sun, sea and shagging! Well a good looking lad like you shouldn’t have much trouble feasting on the roast chicken beaches.” Again, the smile with the dimples.
“Roast chicken beaches?” I wanted to know what she meant but didn’t want to appear as naive as I was.
“Yea, you know. All those bikini-clad girls sunbathing all day and, like a roast chicken, yet all the best bits are white!” Another pat on the knee accompanied by a chortle or two of that dirty laugh.
“That is unless you go to Playa Mar Bella, where every one is the same colour all over because they don’t wear anything.”
I am now having trouble controlling the cinema in my head. Nudist beaches, I hadn’t even thought about that. I had only ever seen one naked woman in my life and the pictures floating through my mind were starting to cause problems in my trousers. On a nudist beach I would certainly get an erection and what to do then?
“I think I’d better stick to normal beaches.” I muttered weakly.
“Not sure you could cope with all those naked bums and tits, eh? I have to say it’s a bit of a surprise the first time.” The first time? Is Gilly telling me she goes to nudist beaches? Displays those magnificent tits to the world, not to mention her pussy. Shit, I must stop thinking about Gilly naked, it’s getting difficult. A few more miles rolled past.
“OK, time for a game of Truth or Dare. Obviously the dares are going to be limited but if you don’t want to answer you just pay a forfeit. You start.”
I can only remember the key questions. We started off simply enough just asking slightly more probing questions than you would in normal conversation when she asked me.
“Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“What’s the most embarrassing moment of your life?” Shit! I thought.
“Do I have to answer.”
“Of course, that’s the game, unless you want to pay a forfeit and my forfeits are quite challenging.”
“Well, a couple of years ago I barged in to my parent’s bedroom. They were both naked, on top of the bed and 'doing it’.”
The dirty laugh just got dirtier, “I bet that put them off their stride. Shit, embarrassing all round. OK, your turn, I’ll go for truth.”
“What body part are you most proud of?” Expecting an evasive answer.
“My tits of course! Aren’t they great? You’ve hardly taken your eyes off them for the last hundred miles. My turn. Where did you loose your virginity.”
“Um, er, well, er……”
“Are you trying to say it hasn’t happened yet?”
“Er yes.”
“Jeepers, cooped up in a cab for hundreds of miles with a virgin. No wonder you can’t take your eyes of my tits! Your go.”
“How old were you when you first had sex?”
“Oh that’s easy. Old enough to know better, young enough not to care!” More dirty laughter, “It was at my birthday party, the night I became 'old enough to know better’. There was a boy I’d fancied for ages, we’d snogged before, but I took him up to my room. My turn. If you were a girl for a day what would you do?”
I was getting much more comfortable with the company of this wonderful woman. She was so open and seemed so worldly wise. Before I could really think of the answer my mouth said.
“Find a nice boy and take him up to my room.”
“Great answer! He was fun, but very inexperienced. It didn’t last long. He got the Johnny on, put it in, moved up and down a couple of times and made a noise that left me in no doubt that it was all over. Not exactly the Karma Sutra but it got the job done.”
I can hardly believe my ears. This woman had just described her first sexual experience to me without batting an eye lid. The sixties were definitely a liberating decade.
Then we pulled off the road to a Routier. Parked up in a diagonal line with lots of other lorries.
“That’s it for today. Let’s eat.”
We walked over to the building and as I followed her I couldn’t help but notice how the tight denim cutoff shorts clung to her very alluring bum, which wobbled in a truly delightful way. Her trucker’s wallet flapped around, protruding from her right butt pocket.
They served delicious food, at a fixed price, with a glass of wine and I noticed with relief that they also had rooms also at very reasonable prices. After the meal I got up and walked towards reception.
“Where are you off to?”
“Get a room.”
“Well, if you want to save some money and you promise to be good, you can kip down in the cab. It’ll be cosy, but cheap. I get the bunk, but the seats all fold forwards and you can put your mat across them. Your decision.”
I must have looked like a goldfish gasping for air. This very attractive lady with stunning tits and an attractive bum, comfortable enough in her own skin to talk freely about sex to a lad she’d never met, was offering to let me share her cab. I was very naive back then!
We made use of the facilities and went back to the cab to natter and find some tunes on the radio. Eventually it was time to call it a day and I spread my camping mat over the folded down seat backs.
She got into her bunk and with all the curtains drawn it was pitch dark. I could hear her getting settled for the night so I took advantage of the darkness and slipped out of my trousers and T shirt. I couldn’t help but wonder if she had done the same and was now lying just a few feet away with those magnificent tits unencumbered by a bra. I had to stop thinking like this because I could feel my cock swelling.
She was right, it was cosy. It was also blooming uncomfortable, compared to a real bed, but then again it was cheap.
“Comfy over there?” She asked. I tried to sound convincing but obviously failed.
“We did some Truth earlier, but not much Dare.” Said the voice in the dark. So here’s my first Dare, I dare you to come over here and get a bit more comfortable.“
What! I was being invited to the bunk. I told you I was naïve.
"Seriously?”
“Yes seriously, that’s the dare; and the forfeit is to take all your clothes off and run round the truck three times.”
Not much of a choice really. I wriggled over to the bunk and under her duvet. It didn’t take me long to discover that she was totally naked. First my arm accidentally brushed her tits and in trying to move it to a less embarrassing location discovered she wasn’t wearing panties either.
“Well, big boy, now you know. I’m naked and you’ve promised to be good, so get rid of your pants, grab a johnny and show me just how good you can be.”
The penny finally dropped. Fuck, was this really happening? Was I about to loose my virginity? I hadn’t had to try out my new chat up lines or make any other effort and now I was in a pitch dark cab with a somewhat older woman, naked, telling me to get a johnny on.
After much fumbling in my bag I managed to find the condoms and roll one on to my rigid cock. She sensed I was ready and pulled me gently on top of her, one hand found my, now fully erect, virgin, cock and guided it towards her entrance.
No boy ever forgets the first time his cock slides into a real live pussy. I don’t know what I was expecting, but certainly not the slippery, wonderfully welcoming, sensation as all the nerves in my cock started screaming at the same time. Once she had me fully in, she held me close and whispered in my ear.
“Just stay still, don’t try to move.”
I felt her push up from under me as she forced herself against my cock a couple of times: I could take it no more. I shot my bolt and filled the condom. I came like I’d never never cum before. The whole experience was erotic beyond my wildest dreams, but it was over so quickly.
“Sorry, uh, sorry. I’m so sorry.” I stammered realising it hadn’t been much of a success for her.
“Shush. Shush.” She held me tightly to her magnificent tits as my cock shrank slowly back out of her. I hadn’t even handled her tits yet and here I was, spent.
“I tried to tell you earlier that it’s always a bit quick the first time. There’s plenty of time, besides you’ll remember this moment for the rest of your life and there is something special about fucking a virgin, I really felt it when you came, every single lovely pulse.”
I disposed of the condom and we chatted some more while she stroked me gently. Normally, after an orgasm, I was satisfied for the night. If I was feeling particularly horny I could have another one in about half an hour or so and so it was with the actual act of fucking. She had me stiff and ready to go again after just a few minutes of stroking.
“This time,” she said, “no johnny. I want you to feel what a real fuck feels like. I’m on the new birth control pill: Ionly got you to use one earlier to slow you down. This time we are going bare back and you have promised to be good.”
She clamped her mouth over my lips, her tongue sought out mine, my new erection found its own way into her. This time it was much slower and the slippery sensation was even greater. I had time to fondle her breasts, feel the magnificent sensation of my cock sliding gently in and out of her without the barrier of the condom. If this wasn’t heaven it was pretty close. It still didn’t take all that long and when she ran her fingernails over my bum it was the final straw: I shot my bolt for the second time.
We fell asleep and the next thing we knew was the sound of a revving engines as the earliest departures headed off. We went into the building, had a coffee and croissant for breakfast and hit the road.
“My load is all chemicals and I’m actually taking it to Barcelona. So I can take you all the way.” She said slowly with a wink and mischievous smile. I was beginning to understand this lady.
We chatted as she drove and learned a lot about each other’s lives. I still couldn’t take my eyes off her sizable jiggling tits and every time I thought about the previous evening I started to get another erection. She seemed to enjoy getting me worked up with her risqué conversation. She talked so freely about sex, as though it might have been the weather.
We arrived at the Zona Franca, the big industrial area near the port and wandered around in the sunshine while she was waiting for the unloading.
“I’ve still got a few dares up my sleeve if you fancy staying with me tonight. It’s a cheap hotel but better than the cab.”
The answer was a foregone conclusion. After another reasonable meal we made our way to the hotel. It was very close to the port and most of the truckers stayed there, as I was to discover much to my embarrassment.
“Hi Gilly, brought your other son with you, have ya?”
“Fuck off, Jacko, you’re only jealous.” As she raised a finger in salute. “Besides he can do all night what it would take you all night to do!” And placing her clenched fist over her crotch flicked her first finger straight out mimicking an explosive erection and gave a burst of that dirty laugh.
We settled into the room, clean and reasonably comfortable, without being in any way posh.
“Time to get rid of the road dirt.” And she headed for the shower. “Come on then I’m not sleeping with you stinking! Get your kit off.” She pulled her T shirt over her head and her tits swung free and she undid the belt on her denim shorts. “Chop chop.”
I was still processing the information. We were going to shower together! I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity.
My eyes feasted on her tits, her cute little bum, the forest of curly hair that tried unsuccessfully to hide her cleft. Where to look? My eyes ran riot, tits, bum, pubes and that valley, I couldn’t take my eyes off that valley. By the time I got my pants off I had another stonking erection.
We got into the shower and soaped each other all over, and I mean all over. If her tits were a feast for the eyes and a joy to touch, they were ecstasy to soap. I savoured every second. She got me to soap her bum which was an equally erotic experience and then she directed my hand down to her pubes. This was another sensational experience and I was amazed at how easily my finger slid into her. By now my cock was throbbing and I was doing my best not to touch it, knowing what would happen if I did.
She then approached me from the front, with a hand full of soap, slid one hand under my balls and pulled my foreskin back with the other. This was only going to end one way, and in the very near future. I felt myself at the point of no return as she slid her soapy hand up and down the length of my cock.
The inevitable happened. My cock jerked in her hand several times and I shot my cum all over her stomach. I was about to apologise when she spoke.
“OK, wow! The express has just left, so now we can take the slow train.” She leant forward and kissed me passionately and then washed my cum off her belly. “Time to dry off.”
Hang on a moment, so this was all part of her plan? I may have been learning fast, but I was still naïve.
After toweling each other dry we went and lay on the bed. She encouraged me to explore her body, guiding my hand to her most sensitive parts and allowing me to slide a finger in that delightfully slippery divide between her legs. There’s no forgetting the first woman who lets you roam about, investigating her naked body. My cock however only recovered slowly, that is until she slid down my body and kissed it.
I had never heard of this before and she sensed my apprehension.
“Just relax and go with it!” These were the last words I heard before she sucked my cock gently into her mouth. I know now about blow jobs, but then? No way! Never even heard of it, but my cock understood exactly what was happening. It quickly came to attention again.
“Girls like this too, you know,” She said pointedly, as she slid back up to my side. “They really like it.” By now I had woken up enough to take the hint and slid down the bed. I emerged between her knees and had my first ever close up view of a cunt. Lovely, sexy, pink lipped, blond hair surrounded, cunt.
I followed her example, licking slowly and positively, from bottom to top. It tasted divine and left me with a lifelong love of oral favors. Her hands on the back of my head controlled the pressure and pace. The noises she made let me know when I was on the right track.
“Oh fuck, there! Right there! Yes! Stay there!……Fuck that’s good!……Oh fuck, hell yes, don’t stop!”
Not knowing what to do, I allowed a finger to slip into her moistness and felt her muscles clamp on it. Her hips came off the bed, jerked for a bit, and then she flopped back.
“Shit, dam, fuck, bugger, cunt!” I don’t think I’d ever heard a girl use language like that, but then again I’d never done that to a girl before, either.
“Come back up here, you sexy beast.” So I obeye

Telepathy & Pheromones: Part 3Cucking her man to pay a...

Wed, 10 Aug 2022 11:30:45 -0500

Telepathy & Pheromones: Part 3
Cucking her man to pay a debt.
By Dash91830 - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
- Trap is Sprung
Rachel was supremely confident. She usually wins when they play poker. Sofia is good too, but Rachel somehow usually has better luck than the ginger and always ends up with the slightly better cards than her.
Sofia also knows that most of the time Rachel has better luck than her, but not today. With a smirk on her face, Sofia reveals her hand. “Four of a kind,” she tells her friend, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
“You accepted the bet so pay up now,” Sofia stood and asserted. “Your cute boyfriend is now my sex slave and I want to suck his cock and fuck him in front of you. I want you to watch him and I lose our virginities to each other. He is going to let me fuck him here like I want him to, because he is my slave now and has no other choice but to obey.”
Murphy looked at Rachel with alarm on his face. Rachel is shocked, too. She was clearly not expecting to lose when she agreed to the bet.
Murphy looked at Sofia angrily, only to see Sofia smirk lecherously back at him. Murphy turned back to plead with his girlfriend. “You can renege on it. It isn’t like she can do anything about this. Tell her you won’t let her do me.” He then whirled again back around to confront Sofia. “I’m not an object. You two just agreed to this bet without considering what I said. I explicitly said ‘no’and refused to be a chip in your game, but you ignored me.”
Rachel finally snapped out of it. She glared at Sofia. The raven haired beauty couldn’t believe it. “It wasn’t a serious bet,” she tried to say in a trembling voice. “There is no way you’ll be getting to deflower my boyfriend. That is for me and me alone to do.” Then she said to Murphy “Don’t worry, sweetie. I am not letting her touch your cock.”
After that, she was back to talking to the ginger again. “You couldn’t possibly have thought I would let you have sex with him now, did you? Let’s just forget about it and play another round already. No more insane bets like this one.”
“But I was truly serious when I made the bet,” Sofia informed her in a cold voice of a mob debt collector. “So you have to let me fuck him here and now.”
Rachel stared at her, aghast at the very thought of her boyfriend losing his virginity to Sofia instead of her. It was horrifying to even think about that happening.
“If you do not allow it, then I will stop being your friend.” Sofia tightened the trap with her cold words. “Let me fuck him or we will no longer be friends anymore, Rachel. It is your choice now. Make it already.” This is a huge gamble and Sofia knows that it could go wrong, so she reads Rachel’s mind.
Rachel is giving in, Sofia realizes.
With a sigh, the black haired bombshell turns to her boyfriend. “Honey, Sofia is my best friend and I don’t want to lose her, so can you please just have sex with her and make her happy?” she asks him in a bleak voice.
Murphy stared at her in shock.
“If you love me you will do it.” Rachel equivocated. Then she bluntly gave him the ultimatum. “Do what she asks you to, or I am breaking up with you.”
This is going even better than Sofia dreamed of. She had never thought it would be so easy. Her friend is handing him over on a silver platter now.
“Fine,” Murphy said to Rachel. “But I am only doing this because I love you.” He then walked around the table to stand before Sofia, his legs shaking. She suddenly grabbed his hair and pressed her lips against his in a fiery kiss. He tried to pull away then remembered what his girlfriend just told him to do. ‘Let Sofia do what she wants.’ So he only stood there and allowed her to ravage his mouth with her tongue. Then her hands dropped to unzip his pants and take them and his boxers off, revealing his already stiffening slender tool. She wrapped her fingers around the rod and stroked it, feeling how hard it is in her hand.
He moaned and she smirked. Sofia then got down on her knees in front of him. “I’ve sucked much thicker cocks than yours, Murphy. But you are the only one I will ever allow in my pussy,” she said to him before she started licking the underside of his lengthy, but slender shaft. Murphy tensed up as he felt her wrap her skilled tongue around his cock and then she fully sucked it into her mouth, expertly sliding her full lips to the base of his erection. She has sucked many cocks before and is a consummate expert in the field. Her blowjobs have been the best that many boys at their school ever got. His manhood was especially pleasing, as she was able to slide him down her throat with ease. She held him down her throat longer than any other cock had been immersed in her esophagus, swallowing him repeatedly on each submersion.
Sofia’s dick sucking lips worked him quickly and his primal instincts took over. Soon he was subconsciously thrusting into her mouth. Within three minutes, the very experienced girl pulled him up from her throat, locked her lips tightly around his glans, flicked his frenulum rapidly, and forced Murphy to blow his load in her waiting mouth. She swallowed the first rope and then withdrew his stiff pulsing cock, making him spray the rest of his creamy ropes on her face. He drenched her cheeks, glazing Sofia’s beautiful face with his warm cum. Sofia grinned like a glazed doughnut as he caked her with his seed, the warm baby batter splattering all over her. Her gorgeous face was now entirely glazed in his cum and she looked ecstatic about it. Her pleasuring prowess is central to her esteem among her contemporaries. The new guy is now her prize.
She then pushed him down onto her bed and stood over him. Yanking off her clothes, then the rest of his, she lastly revealed her bright red hairy pussy to the boy laying below her. Rachel watched as her boyfriend’s lengthy thin cock remained fully erect, pointing up at the ginger-lined entrance. Sofia grinned dominantly over at Rachel as she descended to her knees, then onto Murphy’s pole, taking his penis up, touching her hot pussy lips. The redhead slowly descended her body, wincing as her cherry pops, and sheathing him fully, in one go. He is now inside her and they both moaned loudly in shock. It feels so good. Her cunt is like a tight furnace, burning his sensitive prick. She is searing him with the flame of her passion.
All he could do now was hang on for his life as she starts moving on top. The girl fucked him hard, at times leaning down onto his chest and hissing in his ear, as his eyes rolled into the back of his skull. His virgin cock never showed signs of flaccid interludes, but his second ejaculation would not cum so soon as his first one, just 5 minutes ago.
“Do you like this, baby? You like how I fuck you in front of your girlfriend? Like how you’re getting fucked by my hot pussy? I want you to cum in my pussy.” Her words pushed him over the edge and he ejaculated again, this time cumming deep inside her vagina. He quickly filled up her womb with his several gushes of semen, his seed coating the linings of her inside walls. Her vaginal juices were absorbing deep into the thin taut skin of his cock, where her pheromones were already waiting, since his morning ‘tea’.
“Please stop already,” Murphy begged her, but Sofia was still not satisfied. Her pleasure comes not from his rigid dick but the control she has over him. She enjoyed the power to fuck him, even when he didn’t want to be fucked. The redhead slammed down onto him again and again, pounding him to a third orgasm, making him spew one more load into her hot pussy, setting her scent into his dermal depths. Sofia has never felt so much joy in her life. The first time she sucked a cock used to be her happiest memory but that was nothing compared to this. She just got popped her own cherry and the cherry of the guy she loves; this hero who risked his life and saved her young brother.
Sofia dismounted him after his 3^rd load was delivered, and got on all fours. Lifting her round ass up into the air, she said “Fuck my ass now, slave. I want you to stick your slutty cock in my ass and cum.” She was drunk on this new power and on his cum, and wanted more.
When he hesitated, she said; “If you don’t fuck and cum in my ass now, I will stop being friends with your girlfriend and she will dump you.” Murphy turned to Rachel and she gestured for him to do what Sofia says. Defeated and humiliated, Murphy just grabbed her shapely hips and slid his lubricated dick inside her, her pussy juices providing sufficiently as lube. If her cunt was tight, this was even tighter; his slender rod making it considerably smoother than a fat cock might have been. It squeezed around him like a hot glove and he screams in shock from how pleasurable anal feels.
“Come on, fuck toy. Fuck me already. You are my sex slave and I’m ordering you to fuck me!” Sofia shouted her demands, ramming her powerful ass back at him. Murphy gulped before he started fucking her anus, slamming his cock into her. He pistoned in and out of her as quickly as he could go, feeling her sphincter grip him so tightly it’s like she was trying to rip his dick off. “
Are you watching this now, Rachel? Your slutty little boyfriend is fucking my ass. Look at this whore’s dick inside my asshole. Your boyfriend is my whore now. He is my slut now, Rachel.”
Murphy started to cry as the humiliation became too much for him to bear. He was now permanently tainted, made into a slut who was fucking another girl in front of his girlfriend right now. The guy couldn’t bear thinking about how hurt his girlfriend must be to see this scene unfolding before her eyes, even though she asked him to be her friend’s sex slave.
He can’t see Rachel who is still sitting directly behind him, but she is horny from watching him fuck Sofia. Rachel is passionately fingering herself to the sight, having her own orgasm the moment he spurted loads into Sofia’s waiting ass, filling up the inside of her large ass with his cum. He emptied his balls into her bowels before collapsing onto his back, next to her on the bed.
Sofia got up and positioned herself over his head. Then she started urinating on the unconscious boy’s face. She pissed all over his forehead and cheeks. After pissing on him and marking him with her pee, she got off the bed and said to her friend “Can you ever be with him again after what I did to him, you cuck?”
Sofia then allowed Rachel to watch her cuddle up with Murphy’s unconscious body during the next hour. Her pussy is so powerful that it knocked him out cold and he is still unable to wake up from his deep sleep. He just slumbers on into the evening as Sofia fondled his body however she pleased. Rachel could do nothing but watch, as she didn’t want to lose her best friend. It humiliated her to see Sofia fuck Murphy. The fact that she got turned on while watching the illicit fuck is also very humiliating as well, and she doesn’t know how it happened. How could she have been turned on by her boyfriend losing his virginity to her best friend?
Suddenly, the redhead got up above Murphy’s head and did what she did an hour ago. She pissed again all over the boy’s face. This time, it woke him up. His eyes went wide once he realized that Sofia is urinating one him. He winced from the salty piss and shut his eyes. He screamed from the sting and as his mouth opened in shock, the beautiful teen peed directly into it. Murphy can now feel her salty piss hit the back of his throat and it clearly suddenly reminded of all the new ‘tea’ he drank. It wasn’t tea! He was tricked into drinking piss by Rachel for the past several days now. Finally she was done taking her nighttime piss on his face and in his mouth.
Finally, he yelled at her “What the hell was that for?” The ginger only smirked at him.
“I did what you wanted. I was your sex slave, but no more of that.” Murphy spoke his resolve. “You forced me to do it with you but I won’t let you push us around anymore.”
Then he turned to Rachel, who was still sitting on a chair and watching. “Baby, I am sorry you had to watch that. I warned you not to make that bet. But it’s okay now. We already gave her what she wanted. If she’s still unreasonable, I think you would be better off without a friend like her.”
“How could you say that? Sofia is my best friend,” Rachel muttered, much to her boyfriend’s dismay. He simply cannot believe she is siding with the woman who just peed in his face. After all that’s happened today. It is crazy.
Rachel turned to look at Sofia. “We can still be friends right? I kept my end of the bargain. I let you fuck my boyfriend like you wanted. You aren’t going to fuck him again are you?” She looked at Sofia very pleadingly, not wanting to lose her closest friend in the world. Her eyes betrayed the amount of pain she had just experienced not too long ago.
This made her redhead friend scoff in a bitchy tone. “Are you serious? Do you really want to stay friends with me after I fucked your boyfriend in front of you? You really are a pathetic cuck, aren’t you? Such a loser,” Sofia taunted her and Murphy quickly cried out in protest.
Sofia turns to him. “What? You think you can stand up to me, baby, but you already belong to my pussy. I claimed you with it. Your cock smells of my pussy and tastes of it. You will never be able to clean yourself of my pussy juices. It has soaked into your skin and is now a part of your being.” My pheromones are embedded in you.
Sofia then left to get a shower as Rachel & Murphy sat in the room together alone. Murphy looked at Rachel and said “Please listen. I will clean my cock and get rid of the smell of her pussy. My cock won’t taste of her pussy by the time I’m done showering. I promise, baby.”
Rachel didn’t reply.
“I only fucked her for you. You want to remain her friend and upholding your end of the bet is the way to do that.” He waited for his black haired girlfriend to say something, anything at all, but she didn’t. Then it got worse when she finally broke her silence.
“You gave in too easily,” she finally said to him.
Murphy stared at Rachel with a noticeably confused expression on his face.
“I only had to beg you briefly. You should have put up a much bigger fight but instead you just let her take your clothes off and fuck you right there. You are a slut.”
Murphy scoffed at this in disbelief.
Rachel glared at him like he was a disgusting piece of trash and sure, maybe it hurt him so bad, but he can’t blame her for being so upset right now. She was just forced to watch her boyfriend lose his virginity to her best friend.
“Honey, I didn’t know what to do. I did not want to sleep with her but you were pretty adamant about it. I had to do it because I love you,” he told Rachel in a desperate tone.
She still looked right at Murphy frostily, and he could feel the despair welling up inside him. What was he supposed to do? Ignore her? She was the one who told him to do this! He told her not to take the bet but she did and now he is the bad guy because he did what she told him to do, so that she can keep her friend.
“And you blasted four loads inside her too! How could you cum inside her. Your semen belongs to me! I did not give you the permission to cum inside Sofia,” she continued to rant against him. So now he’s also in the wrong for not being able to stop himself from cumming?
It was starting to grate on Murphy now and his face showed it.
“Don’t you dare look at me like that.” Rachel yelled. “This is not my fault. You belong to me and I can lend your cock to Sofia as part of a bet, but what I never did was give you the permission to cum inside her, and that’s what you did.”
Rachel then left the house. Murphy sat there, still feeling dazed by all that has happened to him. He still couldn’t believe he let Sofia fuck him in front of Rachel, like that. It was just so unlike him to engage in such depraved acts. Before dating Rachel, he never even got as far as holding hands with a girl before. And then Sofia conspired with Rachel and took it even further and deflowered him. He was starting to get a headache now as all these thoughts swirled through his head.
About ten minutes, later Sofia came out of the bathroom. She smiled once she saw him still sitting there. “Want to do it with me again, baby?” she asked him. “I was a virgin before you, you know? My Rachel though, that one was a massive slut. She fucked half the guys in our grade, already. Her pussy is all loose now. It will never feel as good as mine. Constant pounding from those guys ruined it forever.” She had a very arrogant smirk on her face. “Once you’ve had it, you’re going leave her. I know you would.”
“Why are you doing this?” he demanded angrily. “She was your friend and you just fucked me in front of her. I had to let you because she begged me to, but she only begged me to do that because you forced her. You said you would stop being friends with her if you didn’t get my dick. Why, Sofia? Why?” Murphy was still oblivious and had no idea why she did what she did. He might be a smart guy but has always been clueless when it comes to these sort of charms. These dark arts of the seductress.
“Because I’ve been completely in love with you ever since the moment we met and that bitch was in the way,” Sofia said.
He looked at her in shock.
“You heard me right. I love you, Murphy. I want to go out with you. I know it makes me a shitty friend to Rachel but I can’t help it.” She placed her hands on his chest. “You are my slut now, Murphy. You have already started falling in love with my pussy. I have already marked your cock with my pussy potions. Your cock will smell of my pussy. It will taste like my pussy now, and Rachel won’t be able to stomach it. She will dump you and you will come back to fuck me again, and we will live together happily ever after, baby.”
Murphy looked at her like she had grown a second head. “Nonsense; Once I wash my cock, it will no longer smell of your pussy,” he told her and then finally got up from the bed. He yanked his boxers and pants back on, and then stood at the spot where he picked up his clothes from. “You can’t tear us apart. Me and Rachel have a good relationship. I am sorry that I made you feel you should do something messed up like this, but it is really wrong. I can’t fuck you ever again.”
He felt confident that he can make things right with Rachel. But is that what he really wants from the bottom of his heart? Or is he just trying to do the moral thing? No, he can’t let her get into his head like that. He can’t think clearly. Something is messing with his head.
“Want to make a bet?” Sofia asked him. “If she can still be with you after this, I will stop trying to break the two of you up. But if she dumps you, you have to be mine forever. If you try to reject me I will rape you. I only have to do it once since you’re already just a few steps away from being addicted to my divine pussy. Once I’ve fucked you again, you will be helpless to resist. My cunt will enslave you and turn you into my cute whore, baby. Your place is between my legs. I’ll make you fuck me every day to show you that I own you and your cock is mine to do with as I please.” Then she added “By the way, my pussy juices have a very strong smell and flavor. You will never be able to get rid of it, no matter how much you shower.” It’s like a tattoo, all over your cock & balls. It’s already absorbed in you, reacting to the matching pheromones you drank this morning.
Murphy had enough of this now and he quickly snapped “Fine! If Rachel doesn’t want me anymore, then I am all yours.” He then left the house in a fit of frustration. The manslut is ashamed to see that his cock is straining up against his pants at the thought of getting fucked by Sofia again. He can’t let himself get turned into her slut. No, he can’t be her sex slave. She tried to steal him from his girlfriend but she failed. Rachel will come around and listen to reason once he gets to talk to her about what had happened.
Because he has no telepathy powers, he doesn’t know that Rachel’s determined desire to be with him has been greatly weakened after seeing what happened between him and Sofia. She doesn’t want to get leftovers from her friend but did not feel ready enough to say it to him before leaving. Sofia managed to read her mind easily enough though, and knows that Rachel would definitely break up with Murphy soon. Murphy would then have no one left to go to but her, and she

Telepathy & Pheromones: part 2Jealousy between two vixens.By...

Tue, 09 Aug 2022 11:31:12 -0500

Telepathy & Pheromones: part 2
Jealousy between two vixens.
By Dash91830 - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Sofia left her brother with a couple of bodyguards after telling them to make sure that he doesn’t run off again. She got in her car and slowly followed Murphy back to the high school, at a distance. She already logged her independent training laps for the track team, during the lunch break so she can care for Shane when he got home from his school. She’s only going to the practice because she wants Rachel to properly introduce them, so that she can worm her way into Murphy’s life. She has it so bad for him right now and can’t think of anything else other than losing her virginity to the hero. Rachel is her best friend but Sofia is prepared to cross that red line if she can persuade Murphy to be with her. As she sees him going toward the track, she drives into the parking lot and approaches Rachel and the team from another direction
She clenched her fists in jealous rage when she saw Rachel hugging the Murphy and kissed him on the cheek.
“Hi, baby,” the black haired teen said to Murphy. “I’m really glad you could come.” She then saw Sofia and told him “My best friend is right over there. Let me just introduce you to her.” Rachel then waves her over and as Murphy turns around to see, he is surprised that it is Sofia, sister of the boy he just saved earlier, the ginger who offered to give him a blowjob as a thank you. It is a small world, Murphy thinks to himself.
Sofia pretends to be surprised too and exclaims “It is you? Wow! Rachel, you picked a great guy to go out with!” Then she threw her arms around Murphy in a massive hug and sends a wave of light jealousy into Rachel’s head, making her feel slightly insecure of Murphy. Sofia must carefully ruin their relationship with a slow increase in mistrust.
“I honestly had no idea you are dating my closest friend when we met, Murphy. This is a huge coincidence, isn’t it? How did you two get together?” She knew that this would make Rachel suspicious of what happened between her and Murphy, even though nothing really happened.
Rachel just stared. Murphy removed himself from Sofia’s arm. He smiled awkwardly at her and then back at his girlfriend as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.
Rachel finally inquired; “Honey, you two have already met each other?” He sheepishly nodded his head, still somewhat shocked that Sofia had begged him to let her suck his cock.
“How though? I want to know how you two met each other.” Her voice is laced with puzzled insecurity and it made Sofia inwardly smirk, as she can detect her friend’s frantic thoughts easily. Sofia would have to be careful and not push too quickly though, or Rachel might be able to figure out about how she has telepathic powers and has been using them on her.
“He saved Shane’s life,” Sofia announced admiringly to her best friend, whose eyes go wide in surprise. She clearly wasn’t expecting that one.
“Shane ran out into the street when the guys who picked him up earlier weren’t paying attention. I was too far away to reach him in time but Murphy was at a bench in the park & he ran right into the street to grab him, before a massive truck would have hit him. He is a hero, Rachel. You are so lucky to have him as your boyfriend.” Sofia gave her friend a smile that betrayed nothing.
Rachel relaxed and looked at Murphy with new pride. She hated herself for even momentarily suspecting Sofia, unaware that her best friend is already thinking of sucking her boyfriend’s cock and thrusting her virginity on him, stealing him away from Rachel.
“Is that right, sweetie?” Rachel asked. Murphy shyly nodded and she kissed him on the tip of his nose, making Sofia possessed. “That was a really brave thing for you to do, honey. I’m so proud of you, right now.” She meant it too. She was really glad to have such a courageous boyfriend, not knowing that he had unintentionally won over Sofia’s heart. He also doesn’t know that he is now the mafia princess’ object of affections.
“I better get home now. My brother has to eat soon,” Sofia said to her best friend and the guy she wants.
Rachel could still feel an inkling of jealousy but she told herself she has nothing to worry about. Sofia is her best friend, after all. Still, she knew how horny the redhead is. If she ever wanted Murphy and managed to get her lips around his cock, he would be a goner.
“You should be careful around her,” Rachel decided to warn her naïve boyfriend. “I don’t want to badmouth Sofia since she is my friend but she is very horny and enjoys sucking dicks. She might even try to seduce you and get you to face fuck her. I mean it.” Murphy blushed and Rachel assumes that he was just embarrassed from her bluntly talking about sex. She had no idea Sofia already offered to suck his dick about 10 minutes ago when they first met each other by the park. He believed her when she said that Sofia is really horny. He completely believed her.
“Of course, honey,” Murphy assured her. “I will never cheat on you, so you don’t have anything to worry about. My ride home will be here soon, so I’m going to stay here and watch you practice first before I go. I’ll try not to distract you.”
She smiled at him as she went straight back to her practice squad and he sat and watched. It is wonderful to see how athletic she is. She is so talented and hard working, and he can tell, even if he doesn’t know a thing about sports, that she is excellent.
When he had to leave, he waved her ‘bye’ and she blew a kiss to him. When he got home he went to his home & clicked the lock then jacked off to the image of his girlfriend’s sexy ass in her tight running shorts; and jiggly tits bouncing as she flies down the running track.
It’s Wednesday, 6am and Sofia is feeling very frustrated. She is at the shooting range with some of the men her father left behind to guard her. Not that she needs any protection. The girl is an excellent shot with her pistol. Right now she is practicing before school, firing multiple rounds into the center of the target, getting many bullseyes in a row, with ease. This is a way for her to vent all of her frustration and anger. Even her bodyguards are impressed with how accurate she is, especially given the fact that she is in a very foul mood right now. Her hands remained perfectly steady and her aim as impeccable as it always is.
It had been a couple of days since she met Murphy for the first time and she really wanted him to be hers. Seeing him talk to Rachel made her upset in many ways. She didn’t like seeing him with another girl, specifically her own friend. The fact that she felt this way also made Sofia feel a little guilty. Just a bit guilty, before she went right back to thinking about how she can get into his pants. Murphy is too loyal to Rachel to cheat on her willingly, so Sofia has to either break the two of them up first or force him to fuck her.
But how can she force him to fuck her though? Gun point? Nah, he might not be able to get an erection if she points a Smith & Wesson at his head. She will have to make Rachel paranoid in order to sabotage the two of them. This begged another question of how she can make someone paranoid. Suddenly a perfect plan occurred to her. If she knows more about Murphy than Rachel would expect her to, that could easily trigger suspicion. She would let sit back and watch for a moment as the jealousy slowly consumes Rachel. After that, she could take it further, one step at a time.
The athletic ginger quickly finished up her target practice. She then got back to the mansion. Sofia headed up to her room to get a shower and change clothes. Then the redhead grabbed her car key. Her dad bought her a Lamborghini as a birthday gift for her the day she got her driving license. She drove over to the school very fast and arrived with twenty minutes left. Most of her teammates were already there and they all greeted her respectfully. Sofia nodded at them before going off to look for a certain nerd boy.
Once she found Murphy, she cornered the boy in the library with a cute smirk on her face. “Hi, Murph!”
He said ‘hi’ back, his face entirely red in embarrassment. Why does he still have to blush like this whenever a girl talks to him? He already has a girlfriend, for goodness’ sake!
Unbeknownst to him, the redhead sprinter was getting into his head to look around for clues about what she can do to make Rachel jealous and steal him away from her. He has always been an open book and hence it was extra easy for her to read his mind.
The beautiful ginger wasn’t surprised to see that he is a submissive and obeys Rachel. It is pretty obvious from how meek and timid he is. He just couldn’t be anything else but a sub, she thought to herself.
She was also surprised to see that he likes Italian Tiramisu cake, just like she does. ‘We now have something in common,’ Sofia thought to herself giddily as she slowly eased up on her telepathic activity. She could get tired if she went in too deep and the exhaustion could show up on her face and make Murphy suspicious. That’s the last thing she wants right now.
“I’d really love to hang out but we both need to get to classes now,” Murphy said to her, finally bringing her fully out of her reverie. Sofia nodded and the two of them walked to their homeroom classes. She looked at his back longingly as he headed the other way and then went into her own homeroom class, silently telling herself to keep calm and not worry too much. The redhead might be a bit of a slut with how many cocks she’s sucked but Rachel is much sluttier. She might even break up with Murphy on her own, to go back to whoring around.
Sofia’s morning classes were really boring and she couldn’t wait for lunch break to come. When it arrived, Sofia left the campus, to a bakery store. She bought a tiramisu cake and took it back to the school. There, she found Rachel and other teammates sitting at their regular lunch table, with Rachel being cajoled about her new boyfriend. Kate and Ann both enjoyed ribbing her and Sofia for being slutty, with Sofia often protesting that she isn’t really a slut since she’s a virgin, even if many boys have gotten blowjobs from her.
“Hey, captain,” Ann greeted as Sofia joined them at the table. “Will you be at after school practice today?” Sofia nodded with a light smile on her face. “Good! I mean, you don’t really need it since you are already extremely fast, but it will be cool to have you with us.” Ann then ate more of her salad while Sofia munched on her banana. These girls ate healthy food at every meal to keep themselves in excellent physical condition, not just for athletic performance, but also their sexual performance. With the sole exception of Sofia, who is the last virgin left on the team, they have all fucked many guys.
“Did you know that Rachel’s got a new boy toy now?” Kath asked Sofia, who just gave another nod and a slightly forced smile as she thought about Rachel and Murphy together. “How long do you think it would be before she fucks him?” Kath asks, then answers herself without waiting;” I’d say only about a week, given how loose she is.”
Ann snickered at this. “You are a bit of a whore too, aren’t you, Sofia?” Sofia chuckled lightly. She only sucked cocks and never rode any, but her friends still called her a whore for it. Rachel told Sofia that Murphy has never gotten even a kiss before he started dating her, much less a blowjob from a girl. It made Sofia determined to be the first girl to touch his cock.
“He isn’t just a boy toy,” Rachel informed her friends. “I seriously like Murphy a lot and am serious with him.” She could tell that her teammates don’t believe her, and they had a good reason. The raven haired beauty did fuck over 30 guys in the three months after she turned 18.
“Anyway, he wants to wait until we have been dating for some time before sleeping with me, and I can respect that. He is still a virgin. Losing virginity is a big deal for every boy. I want it to be a special experience for him because I care.” Rachel declared, not convincing anyone at the table.
“Just be gentle with him,” Sofia said to her closest friend, making both Kath and Ann giggle. “You’d be popping his cherry after all. Actually, you know what? I really think that you should wait for a bit of time, Rachel. Wait until the two of you have developed strong feelings for each other first so that it would be a more meaningful experience.”
Ann frowned at this, and so did Kath, but neither of them ever spoke against her. Sofia was the one in charge of their posse, after all. She always has been for a very long time now, and that won’t change anytime soon.
“I don’t think so.” Rachel objected. “He might agree with you because he wants to wait, but I do not want to wait. If he tries to make me wait, I will rape him,” Rachel told Sofia and the other girls, all of whom now gasped in shock. They just couldn’t believe what they heard.
“My mom did roofie my dad when they were in school together so maybe it’s just time I do the same thing with Murphy,” Rachel rationalized. “He is my boyfriend so I have the right to fuck him whenever I want to.” While Ann was a little apprehensive, Kath just nodded in agreement.
“Exactly,” Kath chirped in. “Our boyfriends’ bodies belong to us, Rachel. You don’t need to have his consent. Just slip something into his water and tie him up while he’s out. Then fuck him when he wakes up,” she said to Rachel. “I did it to my boyfriend just a week ago. His loser parents told him that sex is sinful and all that shit, and he seemed to kind of believe it, so I just raped him. He was so cute when he begged me to stop.” Rachel and Kath high fived as Sofia and Ann rolled their eyes. They knew just how entitled Kath feels with regard to her boyfriend.
“Don’t use drugs, there’s going to be evidence of it in his system,” Melissa, another girl on the team who is at the table with them spoke up. “What I did when my boyfriend wouldn’t put out is tell him I would spread rumors about him having a tiny cock. Blackmail is so much better since there is no trace of it left behind.” Kath looked surprised to see that Melissa also had to resort to rape. “He used to be willing but then I kind of cheated on him,” Melissa said in response to the questioning look she just got.
Sofia spent the rest of lunch listening to her friends debate the best way to rape a boy and get away with it. It was a very interesting conversation but she had to get to class soon, so the redhead quickly finished her meal and left before any of them. She left a special little cake in Murphy’s locker, along with a sweet thank you note on behalf of her family, then got to the next class and spent the rest of the school day mooning over Murphy. Once school was over, Sofia headed straight home and was surprised to see her dad at home so soon. He did say he would be gone for at least a week or two.
“Hey, honey,” the seasoned mob boss said to his daughter, hugging her and kissing her forehead gently. She is one of the very few people he has ever been affectionate with, along with his wife and son. “Did anything happen while I was away?” Sofia now had a distressed look on her face as she thought about how to talk to him about this. It is the first time she has ever been in love and she needs someone to help her figure out what she should do next.
“Tell me what it is.,” Dad implored. “I know from the look on your face that something’s up.”
“I’m in love with a guy but he is dating Rachel,” Sofia said. Her father exhaled. “If it was some other guy I would have just had someone kidnap him but how can I do that when Murphy is my best friend’s boyfriend?” She looked up at her father and continued “I have to work out a way to make the two of them break up. That is the only way. I can’t live without him. I only met him a few days ago but I know I need Murphy so much. He is the only boy I have ever loved.”
The Trap is designed
On Thursday night Sofia was hanging out over at Rachel’s. She usually came here to hang out in her bedroom and play poker with her and a few other friends, but this night it was just the two of them here alone, as Rachel’s parents were out of town. Sofia was pouring some vodka from the bottle that Rachel swiped from a cabinet. They usually don’t drink often since it can impact their athletic performance. Once a week is fine though, and today is a Thursday. Both of them only have a few classes on Friday, being free for half of the day. That’s why the duo felt okay with drinking today. But this night, Rachel drank too much.
“I wanna tell you something,” Rachel slurred to her. “Izza bout what I been doing to Murphy.” Sofia knew exactly what her black haired drunk friend was about to say. She has read Rachel’s mind before and was doing it right now. Rachel was about tell her about doing something which Sofia already knows she did. “I like ta piss inna water bottle and give it to him, saying that it’s tea. It turns me on so much seeing him drink my pee at school without even knowing what he is doing.” Rachel didn’t say where she got the idea, but she looked very giddy as she shared this information with the ginger.
“No way!” Sofia exclaimed, pretending to be surprised by this. “I refuse to believe you actually did that. Unless you can do it in front of me right now, I just can’t believe it.” Rachel just took her booty shorts and panties off, revealing her bald pussy. She prefers to shave, unlike Sofia, who is growing a massive bush right above her cunt. Then the raven-haired beauty grabbed an empty water bottle and started urinating into it in front of Sofia. “Wow, you really are one crazy bitch, you know that? That is some really messed up stuff, bitch.” This just made Rachel lightly smile. Rachel tucked the bottle in her backpack and said; “You watch! Tomorrow, he’ll drink this bottle dry.”
That night, while drunken Rachel was snoring in bed, Sofia sneaked out of the bedroom with the backpack. She went into the bathroom and then poured the contents into the toilet. She then washed it thoroughly in the kitchen. After that, the redhead returned to the downstairs bathroom & removed her pajamas bottoms and urinated inside the bottle, filling it up as quickly as her best friend did before they went to sleep. Then she set the water bottle in the backpack & stealthily returns to Rachel’s bedroom & sets it back where she found it, & got back under the covers.
The rest of the night, she felt constant arousal from what she just did. It turned her on so much to think that tomorrow, instead of drinking Rachel’s piss, he’d be drinking hers. Sofia couldn’t stop the stream of juices flowing out of her lusting pussy. She can only hope Rachel’s nose isn’t good enough to pick up the rival scent, since she is leaking a lot. Sofia’s hairy cunt is on fire right now, throbbing with need. But she can’t just go to the boy’s house and rape him. Not while he is still dating Rachel. It’s just not right to her. She has to break them up first.
When the girls woke up, Rachel rubbed her tired eyes. She can handle some alcohol, but not as well as Sofia. Sofia only has a tiny bit of headache, whereas Rachel is experiencing a full blown hangover. “Hey, did I tell you something weird last night?” she asks Sofia.
The athletic redhead smirked. Realization dawned on Rachel, whose pretty face rapidly paled in terror. “Oh no, oh, no,” she mumbled and running her hands through her hair. “I couldn’t have possibly told you that. No way. I didn’t get that drunk, did I?” I couldn’t have. It’s impossible.“
"Relax, Rachel. You told me everything last night,” Sofia said. Sofia deeply enjoyed the look of terror on her best friend’s face and continued, milking it “I heard you say that you pissed into a bottle and told Murphy it is tea, to trick him into drinking your piss. That was a cool move, by the way.
You made it so that everywhere he goes, he is forced to take you with him. Or at least, a part of you that he drank. It is kind of romantic, in my opinion. I think you should keep on doing it to him. Tell him what you did when the two of you are more secure.”
“You really don’t think I’m a disgusting pig for doing this?” Rachel asked with a large amount of disbelief in her voice.
Sofia has always had a reliable moral compass, despite being the daughter of a powerful mob boss. The redhead nodded and her raven haired best friend hugged her tightly. “Oh, thank you so much! I am really glad we’re still cool,

Telepathy & Pheromones: part 1A new boytoy on campus.By...

Mon, 08 Aug 2022 11:30:43 -0500

Telepathy & Pheromones: part 1
A new boytoy on campus.
By Dash91830 - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Murphy groaned as he reached over with his hand to switch the alarm clock off. He liked going to school but hated waking up so early for that. It is really necessary though. There is simply no other choice for him. The new school is a bit far from his house and he has to leave early if he wants to get there in time. He quickly got into the shower stall and showered as quickly as he could. The boy also looked for something to wear to school while he does so. Despite being able to afford it, he isn’t picky about what he wears. He’s slender, handsome, and introverted. He’s a late bloomer and still growing, despite turning 18 just two weeks ago. The fall semester at Edison High started last week.
Once done, he quickly put his clothes on. Then he checked to see if he’s packed everything properly. Satisfied that he has, he went into the dining room where his parents waited for him. His dad sat at the table while his mom is in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. Like usual, Murphy’s father is reading the morning newspaper. Murphy believes he’s got his nerdy side from his dad but the truth is he would have ended up as a dork on his own, anyway. His dad also being one is merely a coincidence and not a cause or anything like that.
“Hey, honey,” his mom says to him, over the counter which divides the two rooms. She appears with a plate of waffles & sat down at the table. “How’s school lately? Did you make any new friends in this new town?” He sighed to himself. Not this conversation again!
“I know that transferring schools in your senior year can be very rough but you can still try to find someone to hang out with. No need to be alone all the time, you know? Just think about it.” It is one of the very rare occasions when Murphy thinks that his mom is boring. Extremely rare. Most of the time she is charismatic and interesting to talk to, especially when she brags about how she seduced his dad.
“Mom, thank you for worrying about me, but I’m fine. You have nothing to worry about,” Murphy told her. “I can be on my own. I don’t need lots of friends or anything like that.” He then starts to eat the waffles.
His father then says “I think your mom is right on this though,” making his eyes go wide in surprise. Murphy can’t believe his dad would say that he needs to get out more. The middle aged man is as much of an introvert as he is. “I missed a lot of chances to make friends when I was your age. Don’t make the same mistakes as I did. It would be good for you to have some friends you can still hang out with after it is all over.”
Murphy sighs. “Thanks, but it won’t be as enjoyable for me, because I like it better when I’m alone,” he informed both of them. “I don’t need a lot of other people in my life. I like to read & study; and I enjoy movies & music. That’s all. Having some friends is only going to be a waste of my time. A girlfriend is a completely different subject though. That I won’t mind having one, but it might be a long time before I can get any.” And then he went back to eating the waffles again, but quickly now, wanting to get away from this conversation & get to school ahead of time.
“Every introvert says that before they meet someone,” his mother said. “Take your dad, for example. He was a total geek just like you. I mean, he still is a geek, but you get my point.” His father flushes slightly and Murphy snickered. “I dropped several hints but he didn’t think that a cheerleader like me could want him, and failed to pick up on my subtle hints. That’s why I ended up slipping a sedative into his orange juice & deflowered him. It was the perfect first date,” she said to her son with a smile, recalling that wonderful, distant memory.
Sometimes Murphy would let himself wonder if his mom is a little insane or something to brag about raping his dad, but he never asked her that. “That does sound very romantic,” the sardonic boy said with a roll of his eyes. “But I’m not going to drug anyone like you drugged dad though. Guys get convicted of felonies for that stuff. Plus, the idea of it just doesn’t appeal to me.” He then quickly ate the rest of his waffles and waited for his mom and dad to do the same, so that he could wash the dishes before his mom drove him to school. She always dropped him off at school on her way to work.
“Just remember what I said. Try not to be alone all of the time,” she said to him as he left the car and walked up to the school building. Murphy has told her countless times that he would try his best, and always did.
Does she worry that I’ll ‘Columbine’ my new school, he wondered?
It just never worked. A few girls at the old school thought he was cute but didn’t want to have any meaningful, long term relationship with him. Two goth girls thought he was just a loser & they wanted to fuck him once and then him throw away, like a used Kleenex. That’s actually what the second one said to him. Murphy wanted to save himself for someone who saw him as more than that. Murphy is very selective about all his relationships, but those relationships have much deeper meaning to him than other teenagers can appreciate.
He got to the library and sat down at a table by himself. There, he pulled an old novel out from his backpack and then started to read. It is a very interesting one, one that he’s reread several times already. Murphy just can’t stop coming back to it. He perused through the pages and hummed to himself, feeling content with the peace and quiet of the library. He’d only been here a week but it is already his favorite place in the school and the second place doesn’t even come close in his mind. Not by a long shot. There is nowhere else he would rather spend time before morning classes start.
Suddenly, someone else sat down on the chair opposite him. “Hey, cutie,” the person said, making him look up in surprise. No girl has ever called him a cutie before. Even the very few ones who wanted to just hook up made it clear that he is below them. He is even more surprised to see how beautiful the girl who just called him cute, is. She is a very pretty black haired girl named Rachel. Rachel is on the track and field team, and the school’s second fastest female sprinter, with a personal record of 13.94 seconds for the 100m sprint. She’s tall, athletically lean, and looks more like a college girl than a high school senior.
“Uh, Hi!” he stammers out, still feeling shaken by the beautiful girl who is now coyly batting her eyelashes at him. He couldn’t believe this. Murphy has been objectified before a few times but this is the first time someone has ever looked at him this way. “Your name is Rachel, right?” She nodded. “I’m Murphy. I just moved to this town over summer break, so I haven’t gotten to talk with a lot of people yet. Would you mind showing me around?” Murphy curses his talkative, trembling voice for making him sound like an idiot in front of the raven-haired beauty.
Rachel giggled. “You don’t need to try to flirt with me. I’ll do all the flirting” she told him boldly, and he flushed. “I’ll also treat you to dinner tonight, so just call your parents and tell them that you have a date with one of the hottest girls in school.” Murphy was shocked by how bold she was, but also can’t help feeling a little turned on. He has always secretly desired a dominant girl to tell him what to do. The way she just told him he is going on a date with her instead of asking, is just so hot.
He quickly yanked his phone out of his pocket and called his mom to tell her a girl just asked him out. Murphy only had to wait a few seconds before she excitedly told him to say ‘yes!” The boy then switched his phone off and shyly told Rachel “Sure! I’ll go on the date with you.” He then glanced aside and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide his blushing face from her. His cheeks burnt up, as red as a tomato now. He really can’t hide it when he is feeling shy or embarrassed, and he knows it.
“Baby, I wasn’t asking,” Rachel said. “My best friend’s father is a mob boss. I’d have gotten her to help me force you to go out with me, if you said no.” She then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before leaving the table. Murphy just sat there, stunned at what just happened to him. This is crazy. He has never experienced anything like this at his old school. A part of him was slightly alarmed at how casually she said she could force him to be with her, but then he dismisses it, thinking she was joking.
During the homeroom class, he tried to focus on reading but couldn’t stop his mind from drifting to Rachel and her smile. Her eyes mesmerized him and seemed to captivate his soul. Murphy realized with a start that he has never been affected in this way by any girl before. It’s why he is still a virgin. That, and the fact that no other girl had ever expressed genuine interest in him. They all either saw him as a geek, the sort of guy you’re just friends with, or a guy to have a one night stand with. No one ever asked, or rather, told him to go on a date with her.
At the end of the last class, Rachel walked him to the parking lot, where her Porsche is parked. He gasped, making her smirk as she opened the passenger-side door for him. Then she got behind the steering wheel and told him to buckle up, before driving off to a little restaurant not too far away. All the way there she charmed Murphy with various anecdotes and continued to win him over with her magnetic smile. He was dazzled by her soothing, honey-like voice and found himself unable to look away. It also helps her that she is wearing a tight T-shirt that shows off her toned arms. But there was something else. Something; bewitching?
“I lift weights a lot,” she said to him and flexed her arm, showing off her firm muscles. He blushed, even more smitten now when she gave him a very roguish smirk. She knew exactly how to charm him and switched her cool charisma up to the maximum. It is the first date that Murphy has ever been on in his entire life and he found that it was far less scary than he thought it would be. All he had to do is stay calm, listen to her talk and tell her about himself. “What do you like doing in your spare time?” Rachel asks him, interested.
“I like reading, some movies. I particularly like science-fiction novels a lot,” he told her, hoping she wouldn’t think he’s a dork. He was relieved when she just smiled. “I also go for hikes too, when I have time and want some fresh air, but I’m not particularly ‘outdoorsy’. But now I think I’ll start going to your track practice and to watch you race. I’ve been told you are the best sprinter here. Really can’t wait to see how fast you can go.” At this she started chuckling and he frowned with fear he’d said something wrong. “What is it? Did I say something wrong?” Murphy asked her.
“Nothing,” she assured him. “It’s just that there is another girl who is even faster than I am. She’s the one I told you about, whose dad is a mafia boss. I’ll have to introduce you to her later.” This semester we’re just informally practicing. Real varsity competition starts after the holidays.
Rachel woke up feeling extremely happy, Monday morning. It had been a few days since she and the new boy went out together. He’s very cute and she feels that he might really be the one for her, even though they’ve only been on two dates, the first one being their dinner, last Friday, at the rustic restaurant. The second being a trip to the cinema on Saturday. Now she was thinking about where to go with him next. There were so many ideas going through her head and she tried to come up with the best one. She wants to get into his pants as quickly as possible, so somewhere very romantic where she can woo him and seduce Murphy right out of his clothes.
She was far more sexually experienced than her best friend Sofia, who is still technically a virgin. Technically, since even though she never had a cock in her pussy, Sofia has given blowjobs to all five of her ex boyfriends. Her ex boyfriends were all assholes she only dated to increase her popularity, as she told Rachel several times.
Rachel always told Sofia that she didn’t need to rely on them for status, because Sofia is already very popular on her own as captain of the track team and a very beautiful redhead. Both of the girls were much more experienced than Murphy though, because he never even got as far as holding hands before he met Rachel. The girls had studied various arts of seduction since junior high, and mastered many of them.
Eating breakfast alone on the back patio, a crazy old idea suddenly occurred to Rachel. She found an empty water bottle and then reached under her skirt and took her panties off. Then she took off the cap &set it on the lawn, with her shaved pussy just above it. Rachel then started urinating into the water bottle. She pissed inside it, and then screwed the lid back on it tightly. Her face had a devilish grin on it as she thought of what she just did and is now about to do. If the old book of charms was true, it would be perfect. Her innocent new boyfriend would never suspect a damn thing. Just thinking of it made her cackle.
Then she went to her bathroom and quickly took a shower. Her parents have already left for work so she jogged the 6 blocks to school like she and Sofia usually do. Sofia and Rachel have been best friends since the age of eight. They have always been as thick as thieves & nearly inseparable. Sofia’s dad is a ruthless mobster and the only person he cares about, other than his wife and 2 children, is Rachel, since she is his oldest child’s best friend.
When Sofia arrived at school, Murphy was already there, getting a book from his locker. Seeing his girlfriend, Murphy gave her a brilliant smile with slightly tinged cheeks. “Hey, baby,” he said to her. and puckered his lips, and Rachel leans in to peck him gently. He beamed and she was lost in his cuteness. The boy is so damn adorable and she can’t help it. She has never seen a boy this cute before. It’s not really his face but also the way he acts, his expressions and body language. Such innocence on a guy is rare.
“I got you something,” she said to him as she handed him the water bottle. “It’s a special tea. I made it myself.” The second part is true, at least. She could feel her panties getting damp as she anticipated about what she was going to see in just a few seconds, now. “Why don’t you drink it now and tell me what you think of it, honey?” Her eyes looked so innocent that no one would suspect anything, even if they were told what she is capable of. She has gotten away with a lot of pranks in the past due to her innocent looks.
“Sure, baby!” Murphy replied and then removed the cap. It smelled a bit putrid since it is literally fresh piss, but he didn’t know that. He drank it and was surprised by how salty it is, but since he is no expert on tea, he assumed that there is a blend of tea which is this salty. It did taste pretty good to him though. He smiled at her brightly. “I love it,” he says to her. Rachel smiled, inwardly giggling at how fun it is, duping her adorable boyfriend into swallowing her pheromone-rich piss. “This is really delicious. What blend is it, Rachel?”
Rachel could barely keep a straight face when she says “That’s an old secret, honey. I don’t want you getting it from anyone but me.” He raised his eyebrows at this but didn’t say anything else as the two headed off to their homeroom classes. He did feel that it tastes weird but it’s still delicious to Murphy. He took a couple more sips and Rachel had to try to contain her giggles. She couldn’t believe he is so easy to fool. Oh this is going to be a very fun day, for her at least. “I’ll make you more whenever you want, baby.”
“Thanks, Rachel,” he said sweetly, and the two of them part for separate homerooms. Rachel grinned to herself and walked towards her own homeroom, where she spent the next 20 minutes grinning like a mad cat. This is easily the best day of her life, so far. It is even better than the time she got gang-banged for the first time on the day after her 18th birthday, and that was really awesome, with getting a cum-shower at the very end. It was just perfect.
In her first period after homeroom, she saw Sofia walking in. The redhead is a little bit taller, but has a more perfect ass than Rachel and any other girl in the school. Her thighs are also very powerful. Sofia is the fastest girl on the track and field team, holding the school record of 12.61 seconds. She is also very talented at sucking cocks. All her ex boyfriends were very satisfied, but she wasn’t, not because they were lacking in the sex department but since they were all jerks, whose only use was to make her look good when out with them.
“Hey! What’s up?” Sofia asked her best friend and gives her a hug. Sofia is not only a great athlete but she possesses the rare power of telepathy as well. Since junior high, she has been able to read other people’s thoughts and, with practice, influence their feelings. But the girl doesn’t like to use these powers very much, since they make her feel like she is violating other people’s privacy. No one knows about her abilities, since she fears being thought of as a freak. The girl wanted a life as normal as possible, which is already hard enough with her dad and brother being gangsters. No need to draw more attention with her psychic abilities.
“Well,” Rachel coyly said; “I met this really cute guy a few days ago,” Rachel began. Sofia smiled and prompted her to go on. “He’s really adorable! I’m not going to introduce him to you though since I’m afraid you might want to suck his dick. You enjoy seducing guys by sucking cocks, don’t you?” Sofia just smirked at her friend shamelessly. Rachel knew about all five guys she dated. Sofia also gave blowjobs to several college boys during last summer, and Rachel knew that, too. The ginger loved nothing more than feeling an expanding cock, then ejaculate in her mouth and down her throat. It empowered her because it makes a guy want nothing more than more and more of her. She has yet to try real sex though, and her cunt is still untouched. By keeping her cunt out of their reach, She makes them want her even more.
Sofia normally doesn’t like using her telepathy powers but right now she is very curious, probing into her friend’s mind. The gangster’s daughter nearly gasped when she conjurred the shy boy with a coquettish grin on his innocent face. ‘He really is adorable,’ she thought to herself. Then Sofia went in deeper and was shocked to see Rachel pissing inside a water bottle, and giving that bottle to the same boy.
“So what’s his name?” she asked, not wanting to seem suspicious. She might have never told Rachel about the powers she was gifted with, but Rachel isn’t dumb. She might figure it out one day.
“All right, fine. I’ll tell you,” Rachel said after Sofia subtly influenced her mood. “But only because you are my closest friend. You better not start getting any ideas about sucking this guy’s cock.” She paused, waiting for Sofia to nod and give the requested promise.
“His name is Murphy. He just transferred.” Then Rachel asked; “What about your week, Sofia? Sucked any new cock this week? I know how much you enjoy drinking warm semen.” Sofia snickered, not at all offended by this. It is the truth, after all.
“Not this week, no. I just spent most of it babysitting my little brother, Shane.” Sofia is fiercely protective of the boy. He is one of the very few people she deeply cares about, along with her parents and Rachel. “He wanted to stay up and watch Star Wars all night last night, but I told him ‘no’, and he was a bit upset about it.”
“Your parents are away awfully often, lately,” Rachel observed.
Sofia sighed, and said nothing.
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Rachel said. “Just tell me everything is alright.” Both of them know that they can’t discuss Sofia’s dad very much since his life is constantly shrouded in secrecy. It is just a part of being a mob boss, after all. Sofia’s dad is nice enough to both of them but they are still under strict orders not to talk too much about what he does and where he is when he goes on his trips around the country. He also doesn’t tell them much to begin with, to make sure they don’t know anything dangerous. This is for their own safety, as well as his.
“They are okay, I think,” Sofia said to her friend and the two then focus on the class as their teacher starts teaching. During the entire lesson, Rac

A Virgin Brit On A French Holiday: Part 1Tante Marie’s chateau...

Sun, 07 Aug 2022 11:30:51 -0500

A Virgin Brit On A French Holiday: Part 1
Tante Marie’s chateau of delights.
By Slowandeasy47 - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
I had just left school at the age of nineteen and had a whole summer before starting uni in October. I was off to France for a month and in the 60s that was a big adventure, I couldn’t wait. Having been cloistered in a boys boarding school for the last five years I was now off to explore the world, well northern France at least.
We had relatives there and I was going to spend my first month in a chateau just outside Amiens. Chateau sounds very grand and thanks to TV, if not schoolboy French, it doesn’t mean castle. It in fact means a gentleman’s residence, substantial for sure, but no portcullis or draw bridge.
I had never met Tante Marise, nor stayed in a chateau, draw bridge or no draw bridge. France was a very formal place in the 60’s, actually it still is, so Aunt Marise was always addressed as Tante, or Tante Marise: never, ever simply as Marise, way too sloppy for the linguistically pedantic French. Although, interestingly enough, we did use the familiar tu, rather than the more formal vous form. One of those interesting vagaries of Roman languages.
Actually Tante Marise now lived in one wing of the chateau as the place was enormous and, even in the 60’s, quite unmanageable for a single family, so it had been divided into three, still substantial, homes.
The building was massively imposing. A classic Somme chateau with a hugely impressive double staircase to the centre section and two wings. Tante Marise lived in one of the wings and the rest had been sold off, but the land, an apple orchard, had remained in the family, largely for the private production of Calvados, which is the French word for brandy.
As I recall, in those days, you were allowed to make a certain amount of Calvados without a permit, as long as it was for private consumption, but definitely not for sale. My late lamented uncle Cyril had applied a certain French flexibility to the rules and there were stashes of this magic potion all over the farm.
The interest of the authorities had been distracted by his throwing of lavish boozing sessions with the local constables. Alas Uncle Maurice had passed away and I surmised that my board and lodging was something of a quid pro quo for helping with the harvest. I was only nineteen, so hard work didn’t worry me and besides they had one of those magnificent 60s French bicycles I could use in my spare time.
It was a Solex bicycle or something similar. It had a simple motor that you lowered with a lever onto the front tyre and no longer had to pedal. I could use it to go to the village or wherever I liked. It would never have crossed my mind to borrow the car any more than it would have crossed hers to offer it. That was not the way things happened then.
The great day came and the details of how I got to Tante Marise’s chateau are lost to the mists of time but arrive I did. My first introduction to her was of her grasping me by the shoulders, pulling me towards her and planting several kisses on each cheek, an uncommon greeting in England at the time, but very pleasant.
She was petite, with short dark hair and very square glasses. She was also younger than I expected. I never knew her age but I calculated it to be late thirties and I remember being surprised at how neat and trim her figure was, but most of all, how obvious her breasts were. They had actually contacted my chest during her enthusiastic greeting, which had been a delight.
Cyril & Marise had never had children and always enjoyed the visits from their nephews and nieces. Why it had taken so long for the English side of the family to visit is uncertain, but the recent visit was probably prompted by my impending university course studying French literature
I settled in and tried speaking French, probably with mixed success. Tante Marise herself was French, spoke pretty good English, but with that delightfully sexy French accent made famous many years later by the TV programme ‘Allo 'Allo.
However, part of the reason for my stay was to get my conversational French fluent, so she only allowed us to speak English after supper and, as no-one else on the farm spoke English, it was going to be a valuable experience.
It was a typically hot summer and Tante Marise liked to wear very light clothing, so my young eyes could hardly avert my gaze from her very obvious breasts. They were made all the more noticeable because of her habit of not wearing a bra.
This was a completely new trend at that time and usually only observed on the Riviera. Not so with Tante Marise, whenever she bent over in the orchards or the kitchen, her pendulous breasts undulated in the most delightful fashion and, I have to confess, featured heavily in my nocturnal fantasies.
Occasionally the farm foreman would come to supper and, after finishing off their meal with a glass of calvados, they would head to the 'Bureau’ to discuss business. Antoine was a giant of a man with huge hands, a great shock of white hair and a magnificent moustache, the kind you only ever see now in caricatures of French moustaches.
On these occasions I was left alone in the parlor to watch TV. French TV back in those days was much more risqué than its English equivalent and I was often treated to pictures of naked ladies, admittedly usually a rear view, but totally naked all the same.
How did the actor who was facing her cope with the pleasant distraction? He must have seen everything! And everything was beyond my wildest dreams. We must remember that this was the sixties, no internet and certainly no porn or even explicit magazines. I really can’t remember what we called female genitalia back then but it probably wasn’t as nice as my newly acquired French word, foufoune, or pussie; so I will use that.
One evening, when Tante Marise and Antoine were in the 'Bureau’ discussing business, I got so worked up by a really sexy French film, featuring a totally naked couple, that I made my way to my room to relieve the tension that the characters on screen had induced in my teenage penis or 'ma bitte’, which means ‘my dick’, as I had heard the actors calling it.
The route to my room took me past the 'Bureau’ and whatever they were discussing, it had little or nothing to do with the running of the farm.
Remember, I was only nineteen and had been at a boys’ boarding school for the last five years. I had no knowledge of sex whatsoever, except the purely mechanical process from biology lessons. The penis enters the vagina, semen flows, fertilisation takes place, et voilá, reproduction! The detail of what sex might actually be like was still a mystery and, I imagined, still several years in the future. The world was a much more naive place back then: much more.
I had never even seen a picture of a naked woman, let alone seen a real one, and my knowledge of breasts was limited to pictures in Health & Efficiency magazine, which was popular at the time.
Now, for the first time ever in my young life, I was hearing sounds that I only thought I understood. Tante Marise was using French words I hadn’t learned yet and so was Antoine! Their breathless exchanges along with the rhythmic squeaking sounds of the 'Bureau’s day couch were seriously erotic. Was this what fucking sounded like in real life? Was Antoine actually fucking Tante Marise? My, already eager, cock certainly thought so.
Just the other side of the door I could imagine Tante Marise, blouse open, those magnificent tits on display, lying back on the day couch with her legs spread wide, welcoming Antoine’s cock in her foufoune! Antoine for his part, I imagined, was clasping her naked buttocks in his giant hands as he thrust into her with rapidly mounting excitement. Fuck this was sexy!
I stayed as long as I dared, getting more and more excited with this unexpected introduction to the magic sounds of copulation. I could hear their breathing becoming more rapid, their words of encouragement getting louder, the squeaking rhythm accelerating and yes: I came in my pants!
I had hardly touched my cock but the sounds of two people actually fucking only a few feet away, combined with my boyish imagination, was more than I could stand.
I hurried to my room to inspect the damage. Wow, what a lot of cum! It had already soaked through from my pants and there was a large wet patch on the front of my trousers. What to do? I didn’t normally go to bed this early and I certainly could not go back to the parlor in these trousers.
I decided that getting into my pyjamas and going back down would be the best course of action, but first I put on clean under pants to keep my cock firmly locked up.
Back in the TV room Tante Marise reappeared after I heard her show Antoine out with a cheery,
“À la prochaine.” Or, until next time.
What? There was going to be a next time? Were they going to do it again? Anyway, she sat down beside me, made some comment about my getting ready for bed early and we watched the TV. I could not stop my mind from wandering.
She didn’t look any different! But she’d just been fucking! How could this be? She had just clearly enjoyed having Antoine thrusting between her thighs, an experience that I could only imagine, and here she sat as if nothing had happened. In fact, she seemed quite relaxed and serene, even.
I am not sure what I expected, but certainly not this degree of blasé normality. It was just as well that I had pants on under my PJs because, try as I might, my mind kept wandering back to the scene I had just overheard. My first real encounter with sex. OK so I only overheard them having sex, but the memory was enough to give me another erection: oh the power of recovery of the teenager! As soon as possible I made my excuses and went to my room.
I took off my PJs and pants and lay down on my back, stark naked, with my second erection of the evening. I felt the breeze from the open window playing on my naked body and, as the air wafted over my cock, and armed with a hanky, I set about re-playing the scene over and over in my mind.
Her naked breasts, what were they like to touch? Her foufoune, what did it look like? Antoine’s hands on her bum as he thrust into her, what did that feel like? For him? For her? So many questions, so many vivid thoughts and then, as I continued to bring myself to orgasm, as slowly as possible, so as to prolong the enjoyment, the sensations started again and I knew I was about to cum. A few more strokes and I came, not as much as earlier, but a thoroughly good, satisfying, cum none the less.
I cannot remember how often that memory played out in my mind over the coming days, but it was not infrequent! I could hardly wait until the following week, when I hoped there would be a repeat performance. For some reason the thought of Antoine’s massive hands clutching her pert little bottom still produces a stirring all these years later.
The harvest continued in the blazing summer sun and we always returned to the chateau hot and sweaty.
At the end of the corridor was the bathroom, which contained a magnificent, if somewhat antiquated, shower. Not one of those modern contraptions but something with more taps and valves than a First World War Submarine. It may have been antiquated but it was fantastically efficient. There were four vertical spray bars, with their independent controls and a drench overhead that produced a virtual tsunami.
It was great for cooling off after a day in the orchards, turn the whole contraption on cold and walk in. COLD, yes: Freezing? Nearly: but enormously refreshing and, much to my surprise, nearly always produced an erection which, as a teenager, I freely confess, I almost never wasted when I got back to my room.
The day’s work done, and getting ready for supper, I headed for my room, stripped off and wound a towel around my waist. What happened next changed my life, quite literally. I was half way along the corridor when the bathroom door opened. There, silhouetted in the doorway, was the totally naked form of Tante Marise.
The incident, although it lasted only a few seconds, stays with me yet. Unfortunately the bathroom window was right behind the door, so a silhouette was nearly all I saw, but there was enough detail to see that girls have hair 'down there.’ Not to mention that naked, unfettered, breasts have a motion all their own.
Taken by surprise, I turned politely to avert my gaze and Tante Marise, retreated into the bathroom, only to emerge a few seconds later, modestly wrapped in a large towel. We crossed in the corridor and she muttered.
“Désolé.”
Désolé! Why was she sorry for one of the most exciting moments of my young life. My embarrassment was only compounded buy my automatic response.
“De rien!” It’s nothing!
Nothing! I had just seen my first full frontal naked female and said that it was nothing! I had been so embarrassed, I hadn’t had time to think, so I scurried into the bathroom, turned on all elements of the shower to full cold, dived in and set to work on the erection that the combined effects of the cold water and the image of a totally naked Tante Marise had produced.
We overcame our embarrassment at supper by ignoring the incident and settled down to watch TV afterwards.
Antoine had not reappeared and over a week had passed. What a disappointment! I was not going to be treated to episode two of 'Tante Marise enjoys a noisy shag.’ Oh well, the flash of her naked body had made up for it and surely one orgasm an evening should be enough for any teenager, or maybe just one more when I get back upstairs?
This particular night produced another film in the series that had so affected me the previous week. More French erotica! But this time sitting next to Tante Marise, which made my excitement much harder to conceal.
As the plot developed it was quite clear that our heroine was about to seduce her co-star. Their clothes had been shed and the obligatory rear view of a naked woman advancing on her lucky prey, filled the screen. They were clearly just about to fuck.
This was getting difficult to deal with. I had not long ago seen Tante Marise in just such a state, but from the front. The whole thing, hair and all! But sitting next to her, watching this level of sexual activity had caused a predictable response from my young 'bitte’. It is very easy to forget how little it takes to provoke an erection in the sexually inexperienced.
Just as the sex act was about to take place, Tante Marise placed her hand on my knee, leaned forwards, turned and looked into my eyes with a beguiling smile and said.
“ Un peu racé, non?” A little racy? This was torrid beyond my wildest dreams. Then she stunned me by taking my hand and placing it on her covered breast. Not another word was spoken, she just lifted my hand and put it there. OK she had on a loose dress, but no bra. My first experience of an adult female breast. I probably made a mess of it, but it was so exciting, warm, soft and pliable with that little hard bud on the end.
What is happening? I would like to say that I played expertly with it, but that would not be true. In the actual event I summoned up all my courage and slid my hand in through the opening at the front of her dress. I touched a naked breast for the first time, and lightly ran my open palm over her nipple. It is hard to imagine now, after a lifetime of sexual activity, how exciting this was. Tante Marise, meanwhile slid her hand from my knee up towards my groin.
I do not know if I was normal or not, but stories of boys first time sexual encounters lasting for ages, or even minutes, just do not ring true to me. I am fondling my first breast and Tante Marise is sliding her hand up my fully clothed thigh. It got as far as my crotch, only just lightly brushed over my cock: the tension was unbearable. I came! She must have sensed the spasm of my orgasm as she leaned forward, kissed me on the forehead and said.
“I think it is time you to go to your room.”
The next morning at breakfast I just didn’t know where to look. I had stroked Tante Marise’s naked breasts the previous evening and had orgasmed in front of her. She was totally unabashed about the incident and even teased me by asking,
“So you had the pleasant dreams, no?”
The harvest progressed in the incessant heat. Showers were taken after the hot sweaty work, but the vision of a naked Tante Marise was never repeated. More TV programmes were watched, seldom as racy as that fateful night, but some were pretty hot.
By now we had reached a comfortable arrangement. If the film got raunchy she would take my hand and place it on her breast while allowing her hand to find its way to my crotch and I had mustered enough self control not to ejaculate on the spot. To be honest, usually by bringing myself off before going to the parlor to watch TV.
On my final evening, during a film, while I was fondling her breast and getting more and more excited, she completely threw me by asking directly.
“How is it that you like to make the masturbations?” The French language can be a little direct sometimes.
After the usual blustering and denials, she chided me by telling me that it was 'healthy to make the masturbations.’ Her openness on matters sexual left me aghast.
I eventually admitted that I did it lying on my back on my bed, with a hanky to make sure I didn’t leave a mark on the bedding.
My admission was met with one word, “Viens, which means come.”
She took my hand and stood up. I had to idea where this was leading but I had high hopes and so did my erection. We passed the Bureau, and climbed the stairs, we went past her room and along the corridor past mine, all the way to the bathroom at the end.
She opened the door and ushered me ahead of her, allowing the door to close behind us. She set the knobs and levers of the WWI Submarine which sprang into life, at which point she stood right in front of me, slid the straps of her dress over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Tante Marise dressed only in panties!
Dressed only in panties, but not for long. She looked up at me with that wonderful smile and lowered them to the floor. I couldn’t help staring at the luxuriant dark triangle between her legs. Triangle, breasts, triangle, face, triangle! My eyes went berserk.
“Viens, viens. Clothes off!”
I struggled to get my clothes off with any degree of finesse, and getting my pants off, over my raging erection, while under the direct gaze of Tante Marise felt, as the French say, bizarre. Then there I was naked, standing beside my first totally naked female, who was also the first person ever to see my penis erect and erect it certainly was, the tip was all but touching my navel.
“This is special.” She said, as she took me by the hand and lead me into the steaming torrent. Water cascaded everywhere as she directed a soaping operation. We soaped each other under her expert instructions. I soaped her back and felt the glorious sensation of my hands flowing over her buttocks. She returned the pleasure. I never realized how sexy it felt when your buttocks got a soapy wash.
I could hardly wait to get to her breasts, they felt completely different with the water and soap flowing freely. Her nipples felt larger and definitely harder. She also allowed my hand to wander into the luxuriant triangle between her legs.
I really had only the vaguest idea of what I would find there. Biology books are not that informative, but the biggest surprise was to find that my finger slipped easily into her foufoune, which was unexpectedly slippery and welcoming.
I was extremely careful not to touch my cock and desperately hoped she would not touch it either, or I would cum on the spot. I just wanted this to go on for as long as possible.
It could not last for ever though, and eventually she maneuvered behind me with a hand full of soap, rubbed it gently over my chest and stomach getting tantalizingly lower with each pass. She pressed up against me and I felt the roughness of her mysterious dark triangle against my thigh. She stood on tip toes and breathed into my ear.
“Now you relax.” Her hand, full of soap, gently surrounded my cock and pulled the foreskin back with tantalizing slowness. This was not going to last for long, the build up had been too much. Try as I might, there was no stopping that primal sensati

Summer of ’65: Part 2A more enjoyable way to study sex ed.By...

Sat, 06 Aug 2022 11:31:03 -0500

Summer of ’65: Part 2
A more enjoyable way to study sex ed.
By Slowandeasy47 - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
The summer seemed to be racing by with lots of glorious days just messing about in boats, shooting at tin cans in the sea, and occasionally visiting Jess’ house, to swim in their pool which, mercifully, was a lot warmer than the lough.
On one such occasion we were the only two there, as her family had gone out for the day. It was one of those beautiful days that only seem to happen when you are young. The sun blazed through the heavens and the sheltered area round the pool was baking.
We occasionally jumped in the pool to cool off before returning to our sun loungers to work on our tans where Jess usually undid her top when lying on her stomach.
“There is a fridge full of cokes in the pool house if you fancy one?” She suggested. I knew where it was, so I got up and wandered over, opened the door, and made my way to the giant American style fridge. I picked up two cokes, poured them into plastic pool glasses, before making my way back to the loungers.
Jenna was naked!
She was face down admittedly, tanning her back, but stark naked, just like she had been on our picnic trip.
“I figured you wouldn’t mind as it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, and a bum’s just a bum,” she said with her mischievous smile and turned towards me to take the offered coke. As she did so, one pert breast, complete with little pink button nipple, escaped from its hiding place.
“Ooops!” She said, tucking the offending mammary back under her. “You didn’t see that did you.” It was more of a statement than a question.
I knew better than to lie to the ever confident Jess, so I admitted that I had, which was quite obvious anyway from the rapid expansion taking place in my speedos, rendering me incapable of further speech.
“Never mind it was only my breast.”
Only! Only a breast! There was no only abut it. I had fantasised about Jess’ breasts ever since our picnic. The image was to last a long while and, to hide the obvious swelling, I threw myself face down onto the sun lounger. It didn’t take much to provoke an erection back then.
“Get some sun on that bum. Take your trunks off!”
“I’m OK thanks.”
“Prude. Too prude to be nude! You should let Harry out for some fresh air occasionally!” And burst out laughing.
I, of course, was now shamed into it and, very carefully, slid my trunks off. I cannot deny that it was a delicious feeling being naked outdoors again, the only problem being my erection.
“Too hot for me! Swim time,” said the voice to my left. “And what’s more, I’m not putting that lot on again just to get it wet.” She rolled so that she was facing away from me, stood up, and I watched that glorious rear view of the naked female form make its way to the water. I even got a flash of that mysterious place between her legs as she dove into the pool.
Surfacing at the far end she called.
“You just have to try this.
"It’s the most invigorating experience ever!
"If you’re cowardy custard, I’ll turn my back while you dive in.
"There’s nothing to see once you’re in anyway. The water is too rough.
"Come on in then Mr prude in the nude!”
“Turn around then,” said my voice before I had time to stop it, as I rose to the bait of her dare. She turned and within seconds I, complete with fully erect Harry, were in the air, mid dive.
I surfaced somewhat closer to her than I meant to, as my intention had been to stay at the other end, but I wasn’t thinking straight. Hardly surprising seeing as it was only my second encounter with a naked woman and my first ever skinny dip. I hadn’t even considered how we were going to get out.
“Race you!”
We raced. She won. Why? Maybe she was a better swimmer. Maybe the view up her thighs as she stroked out in front was irresistible. Maybe both! Either way we got to the shallow end out of breath and stood up in the waist deep water.
“Ooops,” she said lowering her pert little breasts back into the water. “Forgot!”
I’m not certain that she did and I certainly didn’t, nor will I ever! Both beautifully formed breasts, displayed themselves to me, with their little pink nipples sticking out proudly due to the refreshingly cool water. I knew if I even touched my cock it would be game over.
It is hard, from this perspective, to remember the eroticism of such seemingly simple things. Going braless happened only in the south of France, going topless, only in St Tropez. This was the start of the 60s, no porn, no internet, just Harrison Marks and imagination.
Jenna tried her best to diffuse the situation by pretending not to notice and set off up the steps. I watched her bare back reemerge slowly from the water as she grasped the handles. I couldn’t take my eyes off the two deliciously firm orbs of her buttocks as she climbed the steps. That vision will stay with me for ever. She reached the top step, stepped onto the tiles, looked over her shoulder, with her hands on her hips, as she stood their dripping.
“Come on then!”
“I think I’ll stay in for a while.”
“Don’t be daft! Your teeth are chattering already. Come on. Don’t be such a prude!”
“I can’t. Jenna, you’re my friend, you’re a wonderful girl, but you’re naked and I’m naked and nature has taken over.”
“You’re not going to ravish me, are you?”
“Of course not.”
“Well that’s a relief.” There was a hint of un-conveyed meaning in the way she said it. “I’ll not look while you get to your towel.”
She turned her back and I scrambled out, dashed for my towel and tried, in vain, to conceal Harry’s obvious state of excitement. Meanwhile Jenna had managed to cover up with a towel as well.
We decided that that was enough for one day and headed for the pool house and our clothes, swathed, modestly for the first time that afternoon, in large towels. As the door to the pool house closed behind me, Jenna turned and said.
“If you’re not going to ravish me, at least you might kiss me.”
I couldn’t believe it. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I thought that any such move might ruin, what was for me, a nearly perfect relationship. I’d just been skinny dipping, for the first time and with a beautiful, confident and very sexy girl. My dreams had just become reality and my cock was still in awe.
I moved in towards her and gave a, probably very amateur, attempt at a snog. She responded by opening her mouth, so I followed suit. Her tongue darted in and out of my mouth, so I followed again. The snog got more and more passionate as it got more and more competent. Our hands started to explore each other as her towel fell away.
I felt one hand make its way down past my belly, as my towel also fell to the floor. I was in no doubt as to where it was going. For my part, I let my hand slide off her shoulder onto the front of her chest and from there down onto her breast. My other hand slid down the back of her petite frame and onto one of the delicious twin orbs of her toned buttocks.
I’ve got one hand on my first ever female breast, the other on a naked buttock. The stimulation in my brain is going overboard. The kiss continued as her hand made its way inexorably southwards. Eventually it will reach my cock. Oh my god, the sensations, the anticipation and, then sadly, the disappointment.
This was all too much for a first encounter. All those tales of young lads bonking for hours on their first shag are simply lies. She had only barely touched my cock when the inevitable happened. I ejaculated. I ejaculated in some style, but I still ejaculated and Harry started to soften.
While trying to make some excuse for my rapid response, her hand grasped my wrist and lead it down between us, over the soft outward curve of her belly, towards the little forest of hair between her legs.
“Rub me gently.” She broke from the kiss for just long enough to say and then our mouths joined again.
My hand glided over her pubes and a finger slipped into the slick moistness of her excitement. I don’t know what I expected, but nothing so delightfully slippery and exciting.
“Slowly and softly.” Said the voice in my ear as she broke from the kiss again. I followed her lead and did as I was told. I sensed her excitement growing by the change in her breathing. Then I felt her nails dig into my shoulders as she breathed.
“Even slower.
"Even gentler.
"Yes.
"Just like that.”
Followed by a sigh and slight buckling of the knees.
Seconds later a female voice shouted, “Hello in there.”
“Oh shit. Shit. Shit. It’s Paula. She often pops round for a swim on hot days. Quick.”
We scrambled into our clothes as quickly as possible, the mood having been completely destroyed by our imminent discovery. As soon as we could we made our way outside, somewhat sheepishly.
To my horror the discarded swim suits had been neatly folded and placed on a sun-lounger. Paula pointed at them accusingly!
“Jenna, these were completely dry! Your hair is wet! You don’t have to be Einstein to work out what’s been going on. You just be bloody careful if you’re going to play with big girls toys. I’m not ready to be aunty Paula yet.” She turned and marched off.
Paula’s words hit home hard.
“I don’t want to be aunty Paula.”
I am quite sure she didn’t, but I’m even more certain that Jenna didn’t want to be a mother and I certainly didn’t want to be a father. In that era it would have been a ‘had to get married’ situation and my education was far from complete. Frankly it would have been a complete disaster for both of us, such were the attitudes of the day.
What if Jenna had let me go a bit further and had been willing to actually have sex? There is no doubt that my young cock had definitely got the message. Could I have resisted if it had been on offer? We had both been pretty wound up, and I suspect that mother nature would have had her way. Erections don’t think!
Say we had just actually done it. Just imagine! The wait for the next period. What if it didn’t come. Was she always regular, or could she sometimes just be late? These are not subjects we talked about in those days, unless of course, you had to.
What about the future? Was it possible we were going to get into that situation again? Two sexually mature people playing with fire, or even Russian roulette. Nature pretty well guaranteed that we were going to hit the jackpot sooner or later. Not that I’m assuming Jenna would even allow it, but what if?
I resolved to get hold of some condoms, or johnnies as they were known then, but how. We lived very remotely. The nearest village was within range but the pharmacist was a family friend, probably of her family as well. Even if I made sure he wasn’t serving, could I face putting 'a packet of three’ on the counter in front of his female assistant. I’d die of embarrassment.
I could just imagine the conversation later in the chemist shop.
“You know so and so’s lad?”
“Yea, him.”
“Well he came in today and bought some, ahem, Durex.”
“No! I wonder where he plans to use them.”
“Well there’s not much option down his way.”
“You mean 'her’?”
“Well, who else?”
“She wouldn’t though, would she? She’s such a well brought up girl and I doubt she’d do it before she was at least engaged.”
The cerebral cinema ran on and got more and more embarrassing with every imagined exchange. No I would have to make my purchase elsewhere.
As luck would have it, my mother wanted to go shopping in a big town, well away from where we were known. She did show some surprise when I expressed an interest and wanted to go with her. Normally shopping and teenage boys do not go hand in hand.
We arrived, parked the car, and arranged to meet again in a couple of hours. I eventually singled out a chemist shop as my target and walked in. I had only been round the shelves once to try to locate the 'johnnies’ when a very attractive young lady came up and said.
“Can I help you?”
Oh fuck! I can hardly say I want a packet of johnnies. She’ll know I’m planning to: well yes, to fuck. She was young, she was pretty. I didn’t have time to register her ring fingers but probably not married and therefore almost certainly a virgin, and I wanted to buy contraceptives. The embarrassment. So I bought a tube of toothpaste and left. While I was paying I noticed the johnnies were all on the shelf behind the till, Durex, Featherlight and several others.
OK, so maybe I’m going to have to actually ask! I don’t recall how many other chemists I checked out that day, but the answer was always the same. They were all kept behind the till, so I would definitely have to ask.
I eventually located a chemist with a middle aged lady serving. I thought, she doesn’t know me and she’ll never see me again, so what’s the problem? I approached the till.
“Yes, can I help?”
Arggggg the agony of it!
“A packet of featherlight please!”
She turned round to 'that’ shelf and said.
“Three or twelve?”
Twelve? TWELVE? I’m a virgin. I’ve never used one before. Twelve, you must be joking.
“Mmm three please.”
She reached for the packet and, mercifully, popped it into a little brown paper bag just as the next customer reached the counter. Did she see? Oh this is so embarrassing! Everyone in the world seems to know that I am planning to have a fuck. Can they tell that it’s also going to be my first?
Ironically I am not really 'planning’ to fuck. I am pretty sure that Jenna won’t allow it but, just in case, I’m prepared. Besides, how do I explain to her that I’ve got johnnies. The implication is surely that I am assuming she is 'that type of girl’ and would probably never speak to me again. Why is life so complicated?
The summer rolled on and, in spite of being nearly caught by Paula, we enjoyed each other’s company at the pool and in the fields round about. Usually we stayed fully clothed or very nearly so, until one summer’s afternoon when we took a picnic to some nearby ruins.
We spread a picnic blanket on the lush, un-mowed grass and ate our sandwiches. As the heat of the sun and the effect of the food took its toll we lolled in the grass talking about this and that and nothing very much.
“When do you head off for uni?” Was the reality check she came up with.
“September.” I replied as I glanced across at her. Our eyes locked. She smiled showing her dimples to maximum effect. I leaned towards her, she leaned towards me, our eyes were still locked together as our lips met.
It was one of those glorious kisses that went on for ages, tongues darting in and out of each other’s mouths, hands starting to wander, exploring the secrets of each other’s bodies. Palms running over the smooth curve of firm buttocks. Hoping to explore under a T shirt. Success! A soft warm breast. The pressure on the front of my trousers as her hand stroked my obvious erection.
My hand made its way up her skirt. Hers found my zip. I ran my hand up her thigh all the way to the elasticised leg of her knickers. She unzipped me. My finger slid inside, to be greeted by the warm slipperiness of a sexually excited woman. My cock sprang free from its cotton prison. Then suddenly it all stopped as she broke the silence.
“Paula’s right you know.
"We must be careful.
"I really want to do it with you. I want you to be my first.
"But we can’t unless…”
“Unless I get 'something’?” I filled in the blank space.
“Yes, until then.”
I was way too embarrassed to admit I had 'something’ already, although my throbbing cock and millions of years of evolution were aching to satisfy the urge to reproduce.
“I will.” I whispered, relieved that the problem of why I had johnnies had gone away, but with a raging erection that had only one cure.
We petted. We snogged. We explored each other. I rubbed her how she had showed me at the pool house that day. She played with my cock, pulling the foreskin back and forth really gently. It just got sexier and sexier. Then the inevitable happened. I ejaculated.
“Next time.” She said. “I want to feel that inside. To know what it feels like.”
“Next time.” I repeated.
We tidied up, trying our best to remove the semen from her skirt. We eventually hit on the idea of coke. It would leave a worse mark and so be a reason for the skirt being in the wash after only one wear.
I went home and put the pack of Featherlight back in its hiding place, keeping one tucked under my pillow for a test run later. I read and re read the instructions.
Tear open the foil packet.
Check the condom has the ridge on the outside.
Pinch the tip closed to make room for the semen.
Roll it on to the penis.
After sex, withdraw immediately holding the condom on the penis.
Discard the used condom.
When I went to bed I removed the packet from under my pillow. A few thoughts of Jenna’s soft breast and wet panties had me hard in no time. I pinched the end and rolled it on.
So far so good! A few gentle strokes later while reminiscing about Jenna’s gloriously slippery sex and bingo. A condom full of semen. I now saw why you pinched the end, it was distended with the evidence of my pleasure.
I removed it and made my way to the loo, chucked it in and flushed. Luckily I waited to check all was well because it floated! It was still there! Several more attempts produced the same result.
I cannot leave it there! In the end I fished it out, wrapped it in a few sheets of loo roll and tried again: success! This learning curve was getting very steep.
Jenna and I decided to set a date, and a scene. There was to be no fumbling about in the back seat of a car, we were planning to do it properly, in a bed, but where, how, when? I carried my remaining two johnnies with me whenever we were together, just in case.
We had several false starts, usually abandoned for fear of discovery, and once because our foreplay was just more stimulation than I could handle. It’s hard to recall just how stimulating it is having your cock rubbed by a gorgeous, near naked, girl that you are planning to have sex with, while enjoying the slippery sensation of your hand between her thighs. I didn’t know it was called premature ejaculation at that time, I just know it got so bloody exciting that I came before I even got the johnny on.
Eventually the great day came. We knew we would be undisturbed for a couple of hours, so we made our way to Jenna’s room. We cleared her bed of all the usual trappings of adolescence and fell into a deep embrace.
There was fumbling for sure. I couldn’t master her bra catch, even once I had managed to remove her T shirt. She came to the rescue and snapped it open allowing my probing hand access to her pert, warm, breasts. Her skirt was easier and the elastic didn’t put up much resistance. Now she is lying on top of the bedding clad only in her white cotton panties.
I gazed on in awe, and I have to confess to having a fetish about white cotton panties to this day, they feature in many of my fantasies.
I managed to strip down to my pants, very inelegantly, as we snogged and caressed each other. She allowed my hand to slip over her navel and into the waist band. Heaven.
My hand continued its journey southwards. Hair. More heaven.
As I continued my lust fuelled journey, my finger slid into the most divide between her legs. This is more than heaven. She meanwhile had eased my pants over my erection, very carefully, ever mindful of the previous disaster.
Gently and deliciously we removed each other’s final item of clothing. My memory of sliding off her white cotton panties, as she lifted her bottom willingly off the bed to help, and my hand sensing the taut flesh of her naked buttocks, is one of my most cherished. Eventually we were both totally naked, but this time with the express intention of having sex.
“Let’s do it.” She whispered in my ear, “I want to feel it inside.” I fumbled with the foil packet. It was much harder to put on lying next to a naked girl than it had been in my room. I managed to remember to squeeze the end to make room for the inevitable, and returned to our embrace.
Somehow my totally inexperienced cock knew exactly what to do. I rolled gently on top of her and as my cock found that sacred space between her legs I felt it slide gently in. There is nothing sexier than that moment. The sliding sens

Summer of ’65: Part 1English boarding school boy shares a lake,...

Fri, 05 Aug 2022 11:30:48 -0500

Summer of ’65: Part 1
English boarding school boy shares a lake, and more.
By Slowandeasy47 - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
The closeted life of a boy’s boarding school in Yorkshire, with its Dickensian regime, and early morning runs, had ill prepared me for contact with the opposite sex. I knew the physical differences of course, Harrison Marks and Health and Efficiency were the sex educators for boys in the early nineteen sixties.
So what did we know way back then. Well, Health and Efficiency had ensured we knew about breasts, that they came in different shapes and sizes and they almost always involved the throwing of a beach ball at some nudist camp.
How he ever managed to get those pictures in our climate completely eluded us but that didn’t matter. We had pictures of breasts, or tits as we called them. The word boobs was years away in the future.
It was the lower half of the pictures that failed us, the men always had their backs to the camera and the girls just had a uniform, airbrushed area between their legs. Not a pubic hair in sight, and certainly no hint of a vagina. Did girls grow pubic hair? We didn’t know for sure, and what went on between their legs was a complete mystery.
Actually, in the mid sixties, that was pretty irrelevant as our interest was focused on breasts. We all longed to touch one, to feel its texture and marvel at it, was it soft and squishy, or was it firm and hard? The thought of actual sex was still considered as something girls would allow only once they were married, as an unwanted pregnancy was going to ruin both your lives. It certainly never occurred to us that girls might enjoy it.
By now you must be getting a picture of the public face of sex in the early sixties. Among teenage boys there was no knowledge, no porn worthy the name, not even soft core magazines, and definitely no internet. We hoped for a fumble at a party, and the absolute height of our ambition was to be allowed to feel inside her panties, but that was less likely than a moon landing then. Actually just to touch the thigh above the silken top of her stockings was the stuff of many a masturbation fantasy and masturbation was something we were quite expert at.
Term had just ended and I was looking forward to the long summer holiday in my new home. While I was at school my parents had moved to a remote corner of the countryside, six miles from the nearest village and with very few other houses around. It was not only remote, it was actually an island.
It all sounds very Robinson Crusoe but it wasn’t really like that. Several other families lived on the island which was joined to the mainland by a causeway. There was plenty to explore and do, including an old monastery, rabbits to shoot at, if not actually hit, boats to mess about in and so on. So life for a teenage boy was pretty good and it was about to get a whole lot better.
Walking over the hills one sunny afternoon I was hailed by a female voice.
“Shot anything then?”
“No,” I replied. “I’m much better at hitting bottles than rabbits.” And that is how I first met Jenna. Jenna was short and petite with a beguiling smile that produced dimples in both cheeks. Her very dark hair framed her boyish face and her eyes sparkled.
I, of course, was just about completely tongue tied. This apparition was a girl! A girl who was chatting to me as if we came from the same planet, which in those days, we most certainly did not. Anyway, somehow I got over the shock of talking to a real girl. We introduced ourselves and over the next few weeks actually became friends.
We walked over the hills together, boated together and spent a lot of time in each other’s company. We were the only two youngsters, of our age group, for miles around.
Late in July, Jenna suggested we take the boat to one of the many other islands for a picnic. Most of these islands could be walked around in an hour, had ruins of long forgotten farms and were simply fun to explore. A little more Robinson Crusoe, if you like.
It was a stunning day with clear blue skies and the promise of being a real scorcher. I naturally, took a big towel and my swimming trunks along with our fairly rudimentary picnic.
We got into our craft, which was little more than a fibreglass rowing boat with a tiny outboard engine, and put putted for about fifteen minutes to the largest of the nearby islands. I, of course, as the boy, sat at the back in control while Jenna lolled about in the bow trailing her hand in the water.
I tried not to look. I tried so hard not to look, but there was an awful lot of leg on display right up to the frayed edges of her skimpy shorts, and my mind set about wondering what went on just out of my sight. What was it that was only just hidden by those shorts?
I realised my thoughts were running away with me as I felt the stirring of an erection. Oh no! Fuck it, please no. Not now. Not here. So I looked around at the scenery, the water, actually anything that would take my mind of those silken thighs.
It worked: just, and by the time we reached our destination my penis was behaving itself. This could have been such a disaster as Jenna was my only friend and she was really good company. She was also very self assured, which I put down to her being a couple of yeas older than me.
We ‘explored’ the island, wandering through the deserted ruins, wondering who lived here, when and what they did for a living. The island was so small it can hardly have provided an income. We ate our rudimentary picnic in the sun, sheltered from the breeze coming up the lough, by the corner of a ruined barn and chatted idly about nothing in particular.
It was a hot sultry afternoon and I don’t remember who made the suggestion, but it was agreed that a swim would be a really good idea, to cool off. The lough was hardly known for its warm waters as most of it was replaced each high tide by water straight out of the ocean, but it would certainly cool us.
So we went for a swim, after modestly changing into our swimming kit with the aid of large towels and convenient walls. The water was cold: bloody cold, hardly surprising in mid July, but what had seemed like a great idea quickly turned into something of a torture session.
We swam around for a while and, as expected, the water was freezing.
“Bit refreshing!” Said Jenna, as she made a few powerful strokes away from the rocky shore, “in fact a little too refreshing for me.” And she struck out for the shallows again. I, not being conscious of any etiquette, got to the shore first.
She struggled a bit over the larges pebbles and, as she passed me, I couldn’t help noticing how much her nipples were sticking out. I’d never heard of this phenomenon before and certainly never witnessed it. I was fascinated: too fascinated.
“Hey! Stop staring at my tits will you.”
“I wasn’t.” I lied, somewhat unconvincingly.
“You were too! I saw you. Eyes out on stalks!”
“No really.” I blustered trying vainly to cover my embarrassment.
I had grown very fond of Jenna, in a brotherly way. OK I admit it: I fancied her but I wasn’t about to ruin our friendship by being stupid.
I loved spending time with her: she was so worldly, such fun to be with and now I was in danger of spoiling it all just by ogling her tits. Her rather delightful, and obviously delicious looking, tempting to touch, young tits.
“Actually, I was. I’m sorry. You just took me by surprise. I’m really sorry. I’m such a wolly.”
“Don’t worry. It’s no big deal. It’s not as if I was naked or you were peeking at me getting changed or anything.”
That, of course, sent the image of her standing there dripping wet totally naked, dancing through my brain. What were those lovely little breasts like to ogle or even to touch? What went on between her legs? What did a vagina look like in real life?
My day dream would have had a disastrous effect on my cock had the water not been so cold. I climbed out and we dried ourselves off. We spread our towels out, side by side, on the long grass in order to warm up with a bit of sunbathing.
“Anyway, it’s natural to be curious,” she continued, “it wouldn’t be normal not to look.” The relief at being let off the hook was enormous and I stammered something inane before she came out with.
“So what do you call a man looking at a naked girl?” She continued. The brazenness of the question took me by surprise and I failed to register that it was a joke.
“Don’t know.”
“Anything you like! He’s not listening.” She chortled at her own wit and I joined in. She lay face down on her towel and unhooked the top of her bikini. This was too much, I immediately rolled on to my stomach so as not to reveal my growing excitement. “No peeking at my tits now.”
“No of course not.”
“Lying bastard!”
“Jenna?”
“Yea?”
“How come you’re so confident and relaxed?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well you just caught me ogling you and now you’re making it a bit of a joke.”
“Probably because you are a bit prudish.”
“Prudish! Me?”
“Yes you. You were ogling my tits and then tried to deny it. I’ve got tits, you haven’t, you’re curious. So what’s so wrong with that. Don’t think I haven’t taken a peek at the front of your swimming trunks from time to time. Anyway I know things about boys from Paula.”
“Paula?”
“Paula is my big sister. She’s six years older than me and we chat. You know girl stuff.”
“Mmmm?”
“Paula got married a year ago and we still chat about girl stuff.”
“Mmmmm?.”
“I’ll tell you more, if you tell me stuff about you.”
“What sort of stuff?”
“Well I’ll tell you about my chats with Paula if you promise to keep it a secret for the rest of your life and if you tell me, absolutely honestly, the answer to the next questions. OK?”
“Sure.” I said feeling a little vulnerable but a too curious to turn down such an offer.
“Paula told me that the doctor gave her the pill just before she got married and that when they went on honeymoon they did it all the time. First thing in the morning, last thing at night and several times in between. She said the feelings were fantastic and much better than just touching yourself.”
I am lying on my stomach, next to a pretty girl who is, at best, half naked describing her sister’s sex life. The tension was nearly unbearable.
“So my question is. When you are, you know, excited and touching yourself. I mean rubbing your thingy, what do you think about?” Shocked! And trapped! She had just asked me about my fantasies, and I had agreed to play a truth game.
“Do I have to answer?” I said, playing for time.
“Of course you do. You promised. That was the bargain.” I summoned up my courage with all my strength.
“Mostly breasts.” I said with a dry mouth.
“You naughty boy. I bet you are going to rub yourself tonight and I bet my tits will feature in your fantasy.”
“Sorry, but you did ask.” Ducking what could be a very awkward moment.
“Paula says she rubs Dave when she’s on the curse. He plays with her tits while she rubs his cock and…….er by the way what do you call it? Your cock, your dick or what?”
“Harry.” I said the first word that entered my head. She burst out laughing.
“HARRY! You call it HARRY!” More peels of laughter.
“No not really, that was just a joke. I suppose cock or prick usually.”
“Well from now on it’s Harry to me.” And she dissolved into laughter again.
“Just think of the fun I can have with that. I can say 'How is Harry today?’ Anytime, anywhere and only the two of us will know that I’m talking about your cock. That’s priceless!”
“It was supposed to be a joke. You were telling me about Paula.”
“Yea, well she rubs his 'Harry’.” More laughter, “till he,……….you know,………. Jizes then touches herself until she’s satisfied. So next question. How often do you play with Harry?”
“What?”
“You heard. How often do you play with Harry! You have had two bits of information so I get two questions. Out with it: how often?”
“Quite a lot.”
“Quite a lot is not a number. You promised me an answer. Now give.”
“Well, probably most days.”
“Oh good, I’m normal then.”
“What!”
“Me too. So it’s normal. I thought I might be over doing it, but it’s such a delicious feeling I just can’t resist.”
This was getting out of control. I was having a conversation, with a lovely girl, both half naked, and we were discussing our masturbation habits: bizarre.
“Have you ever sunbathed in the nude?” I was definitely not ready for this question.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Well you really out to. It’s such a wonderful feeling having the sun on your bare skin, particularly your bum. I do it all the time by our pool.
"We could do it now, staying on our stomachs of course. I mean you have a bum and I have a bum. Bums are just bums after all, not particularly interesting.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” I croaked, lying on my now full blown erection thinking that Jenna’s bum would be far from 'not very interesting.’
“Cowardy, cowardy custard. I tell you what, I’ll take my bottoms off first if you promise me, on you honour, you will do it too.” And she slipped her thumbs into her bikini bottoms and eased them over her buttocks, such taught, firm, exercised, firm buttocks, and somehow got them off without revealing anything more intimate. “Your turn!”
“Hang on. I never agreed to this.”
“Well you didn’t disagree: so you agreed. Now off with them or I’ll tell Paula what a spoil sport you are.”
This was my first introduction to the somewhat woolly area of female logic. I knew I had agreed to no such thing, but she was lying there naked, admittedly face down, but naked, and I found the idea very stimulating, and so did my errant cock, who found the whole experience extremely erotic.
I followed her example and slipped my trunks down to my knees, having struggled to get the waist band over the rather obvious protrusion. I shifted sideways, back towards her, to complete the task and dropped onto my stomach as quickly as possible: stark naked and with the firmest, most rigid erection of my young life.
“Good, isn’t it?” She said and I had to admit that the warmth of the sun on my bum was a truly delicious feeling: so wickedly naughty.
“You know what happens next, don’t you?”
By this time I was getting truly concerned as to what might happen next. A few years later and with more experience, I would have been delighted with this situation, but this was my first encounter with a naked girl and I have to admit I was petrified, but in a most enjoyable way. Without waiting for an answer she continued. “We go skinny dipping!”
My jaw must have fallen a foot because she burst out laughing. “Oh your face! What a picture! Only joking, but the look on your face was priceless. I told you you were a prude.”
Before I could muster my thoughts I fell straight into the trap. The words “I am not a prude.” Escaped my lips just as I realised what I had said.
“Prove it!”
“How?”
“Show me Harry,” she chortled.
“I will not!”
“Prude!”
“Well you’re a prude too, lying there face down.” I retorted.
“Not at all. I’ll roll over if you roll over!” And I’d just fallen into another trap but it was my turn to seize the advantage.
“You first!” I thought I’d gained the upper hand, but it was short lived.
“No both together. On the count of three we both roll right over, as quickly as we can, back onto our tums. There will hardly be time to see anything: OK?”
“Er……”
“Prude!”
“No. No. OK.”
“One, two.”
“No, stop. Stop. I’m not ready. Give me a second or two. Er……OK”
“One, two, THREE!”
The next few seconds seemed to last a lifetime and are emblazoned on my memory for ever. The swiftest of rolls presented me with a view of my first real pair of tits. Oh such beautiful, magnificent tits. Small, pert, little tits, that were to become my favourite shape and size for ever. Such is the power of that first encounter.
A much more impressive surprise however, was the mass of pubic hair, dark brown, curly hair in a perfect triangle, that concealed the secrets at the join in her thighs. How I managed to register this much information in the time available is a credit to the power of human observation, but register it did.
I was so intrigued by the whole spectacle that I temporarily forgot about my own nakedness. My teenage penis sprang free from the safety of its lair between my stomach and the ground and with all the enthusiasm that only a teenage penis can muster, pointed proudly skywards to the full scrutiny of Jenna’s curious gaze.
The exposure, mercifully, was short lived as I completed the roll over on to my stomach, trapping my errant member once again between the ground and my stomach.
Jenna was the first to react with a characteristic chortle, but my teenage brain was still trying to compute what it had seen. The flashes of breast and pubic hair caused all my reproductive urges to go into overdrive and without so much as a touch a familiar feeling mounted in my groin.
I knew what was about to happen and had no way of controlling it. The feeling intensified rapidly and I ejaculated violently into my towel. I still remember the intensity. I had had orgasms before, but only through masturbating. This was on a whole new level: the sensation was indescribable and within seconds my cock, having done the job nature intended it to do, shrank back to its flaccid state.
You may recall that Jenna and I had taken a small boat to a nearby island for a picnic. Jenna is older than I, and much more worldly wise, because I had been closeted in a boys boarding school. Jenna was the first person from 'planet girl’ I had really ever got to know.
Somehow we had wound up sunbathing naked, face down of course, when Jenna trapped me into exposing myself while she did the same. By the time I was face down on the towel again I had seen my first real pair of tits, my first glimpse of female pubic hair and the whole experience had been too much for my teenage brain. I had ejaculated into my towel, with some considerable force, and was now lying on my flaccid cock in a damp patch of semen.
“Are you OK?” She asked.
“Yea fine,” I lied.
“You just look worried all of a sudden.”
“No I’m fine, honestly.”
“I suppose we ought to be getting back.” And she wriggled into her bikini bottoms, fastened her top behind her back, stood up, picked up her towel and flicked me on the bum with it.
“Ouch!”
“Come on then, get Harry tucked away, and let’s go.”
I managed to get decent somehow, without exposing my obvious problem, and we puttered back towards home in our tiny craft.
“That was a great afternoon.” She said,“ I really enjoyed it, and it was such fun to see your face when I suggested skinny dipping!”
“Yes, well I’m glad you weren’t serious.”
“Are you really?” She said with that cheeky smile that showed off her dimples. “I bet you’d really enjoy it if you tried it. I do it all the time at home, it’s such a delicious feeling. Just like the nude sunbathing but ten times better.”
“Maybe next time.” I said with more confidence than I felt.
“Ha ha!” Was all she said as we pulled in to the slipway where the boat was kept.
We tidied up, turned the little boat upside down against the hedge to keep the rain out, and put the tiny outboard motor in the boat house. As we said our goodbyes she leaned forwards and gave me a peck on the cheek. I think I even blushed.
“I really did enjoy it,” were her parting words.
To be continued..
By Slowandeasy47 for Literotica

Home for Horny Monsters: A Gargoyle With A Fetish -

Thu, 04 Aug 2022 11:30:47 -0500

Home for Horny Monsters: A Gargoyle With A Fetish -
Abella isn’t like other gargoyles. Mike Has A Dilemma. (part 5)
By writerannabelle. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Mike gazed at the shy creature in wonder, finding himself once more in a predicament. With Tink, it had been about protecting her from the unknown, a risk he had taken for the greater good. Now, however, it was about his own salvation. Abella had a muscular, almost reptilian build to her. “You would do that for me?” He asked.
“It is my duty,” Abella said, her voice a whisper.
“It may be your duty, but I don’t believe in making others do what they don’t want to do. I would rather risk the lightning than feel like a bag of shit every time I look in the mirror.”
Abella muttered something that was lost to another blast of thunder.
“I didn’t catch that,” Mike told her.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Abella whispered. “It’s that I’m afraid that you won’t.”
“Wait, what?” Mike could tell he was missing a piece.
“I have a…” Abella sighed. “The other gargoyles thought I was weird because I have a human fetish.”
Mike almost laughed, nearly broke that stillness between them. A human fetish? Was that like a reverse furry?
“A human fetish.” Mike said, and Abella nodded.
“It’s why I came here. I enjoy being around humans and interacting with them, something that is forbidden in the outside world. Gargoyles are a terrible species, content with killing for fun. They are very territorial, and last I heard, many were either wiped out by man, or in hiding as statues. I don’t wish such a life upon me. I enjoy the smile on a child, or the way a human woman tosses her hair. I like how smooth and soft your skin feels, and…”
“Have you ever been with a human in that way?” Mike asked, kneeling next to her.
“No.” Abella stared into the distance. “I’ve been too afraid to try it. How does one go about finding a man who can see me as enough of a human woman that the rest of my body doesn’t bother him?”
“That’s easy.” Mike stroked Abella’s stony curls, tilting her face toward his. “You see, I struggle with being around my own kind, and I’m rapidly discovering that what I like is outside the norm.” He pressed his lips to hers, marveling at how hard they felt beneath his. Pulling back, his eyes met hers. “There’s a storm coming, you know.”
He let his hands run along the edges of her wings, pulling them away from her body to reveal naked flesh beneath. Her breasts were smooth, yet strangely supple. Her lack of nipples threw him for a moment, but her breath seized in her chest as he squeezed her stony breasts. Even with all his strength, he was only able to compress them slightly beneath his fingers.
“This is okay?” She asked him, stroking his stiffening cock through his pants.
“It is,” he answered, running his hands down to her hips. She didn’t have a belly button either. Sometime later, he would ask her more about gargoyles anatomy. For now, he kissed her stone skin, grateful for the little sighs she made. He had no way of knowing if she could even feel them otherwise. He explored her body with his hands, marveling at the musculature of her thighs.
Thunder boomed again in the distance. Mike looked back, watching the thunderheads building. “You know, I would ordinarily be in favor of doing this slower, but do you mind if I hurry things up a little?”
Abella was panting. “You’ll have to be on top. I might crush you, otherwise.”
Fair enough, Mike thought, spreading her legs with his hands. The folds of her vulva formed a triangle instead of a normal slit. Tracing his fingers along the edges, he found that the stone was softer here, like thick leather. Abella fumbled with the zipper on his jeans, gasping as his dick sprung free of his fly.
“I’ve never seen one so close before,” she told him, stroking it experimentally.
“Just… don’t squeeze it so hard, okay?” Abella nodded, relaxing her grip. He licked his fingers, running them around her creases in a search pattern. Her vagina was also triangle shaped, and it took some effort to slide two fingers into her- he was grateful to discover that she was very wet just inside her folds. He had no idea how he was going to fuck her without some sort of lubrication.
“Please,” Abella begged him. “I want to feel a human dick inside of me. Do it!”
Mike pulled his fingers free. Her bodily fluids were dark, like oil, and smelled like black licorice. He gave himself a few strokes and pressed his cock against her opening, marveling at how it unfolded for him as he pushed into her.
“Oh. Oh. OH!” Abella trapped Mike with her muscular legs, pulling him in tight as she rubbed herself with her hand. She tugged at her folds, revealing a ruby clitoris the size of a Robin’s egg. Mike stared at her as she did all the work, using her wings as a lever to lift her hips and lower them. He did his best to thrust into her, but she had him pinned in place.
“Loosen your grip,” he said, slapping her thighs to get her attention. Abella ignored him at first, but finally caught on when Mike let out a grunt of pain. She was crushing his hips, her stony legs bruising the skin on his sides. She slowed the pace, allowing him room to maneuver.
“This is so hot,” she whispered, touching his chest with her free hand. “I can feel how warm your skin is when you’re inside me, Mike. Human beings are so warm, and so soft, and-Nngh!” Her teeth clenched and she bucked against him, slamming the cliff with her back and scattering tiny rocks with her fluttering wings. Her excitement drove him closer to the edge, and he put his hands on her smooth breasts, pummeling her as hard as he could. He pulled all the way out, teasing her triangular slit with the head of his cock briefly before pushing back in. Every time he did it, Abella gasped for air as his balls slapped against her cold buttocks.
“Oh shit!” Mike tensed, and then came. His eyes wide, he felt it, a sudden shift in energy between them. Abella pulled him close, gasping and muttering in French as he went limp in her arms.
Tiny drops of rain pelted his face. He was laying between her breasts, a stupid smile on his face. She was running her fingers through his hair.
“Did it work?” He asked her, catching his breath.
“Only one way to find out,” she told him. He pulled free of her, watching her vagina close up, trapping all of his semen inside her. She stood, her wings cast defiantly into the stormy wind that was barreling down on them in the distance. She jumped from the ledge, wings spread wide, circling out over the valley.
Mike fumbled with his pants, zipping them shut as she returned.
“We must hurry,” she informed him, flapping her wings so that she hovered above him. “I am already weakening.”
“Let’s do this, then.” He grabbed her ankles, and she clutched his wrists gently with her feet. Pulling him out into the sky, she beat slow, lazy circles as they climbed, the cliff’s edge becoming visible once more. Once they were high enough, she soared toward the greenhouse itself, a distorted wall of glass that climbed into the sky until it disappeared from view. The Mandragora vines were moving about a different part of the cliffs now, still searching for its prey. They shot overhead the Mandragora, crashing through one of the previously broken panels. Abella and Mike crashed into the yard, tumbling head over heels until they came to a rest, both of them staring into the darkening afternoon skies of Earth.
Firing Squad
“Ow, fuck!” Mike winced as Naia inspected the large bruise forming above his hip bone where Abella had squeezed him with her stony thighs. The Mandragora plant had actually injured him less than the gargoyle had, surprisingly enough. Save for some scrapes on his hands (well, and not being eaten), he was fine.
“Yeah, that will sting for a while.” Naia placed a kiss on it. “You had me so worried! I’ve never seen the Mandragora do that before. You’re going to need to feed it pretty soon.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Meat and cheese and wine. We’re going on a picnic next Wednesday.” Mike informed her.
“Oh, really? I think that’s a great idea,” Naia said. “She’ll love that!”
“Wait, the plant…” Mike felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead, even though he was standing naked in the fountain. “It can…it can…”
“I’m just kidding, goofball. The Mandragora can’t leave the greenhouse.” Naia glanced over at Abella. She sat in the water, her wings pulled close to her body, watching the tiny water spheres circle the fountain, glowing with their own inner light. The sun was setting on the other side of the house, and the garden was cast into darkness, save for Naia’s magic spheres. “You need to be more careful, Abella. Mike isn’t made of steel.”
“I know,” Abella grumbled, flicking the water with her finger. “Felt really good though.”
“That part I get,” Naia agreed. “And I’m grateful you got to him before he was eaten. None of this would have happened if you hadn’t picked that little cubby to hole up in.”
“I was tired of washing off bird shit,” Abella said, popping a bubble with her talon. It reformed on the other side of the fountain. “If I had known Emily was going to croak, I wouldn’t have come down here. It wouldn’t have mattered if the Mandragora hadn’t broken loose.”
“And that’s the peril of living here,” Naia agreed. “The Mandragora wouldn’t have broken out if Tink had spotted the cracked windows. Tink wouldn’t have slept for so long if a new guardian had been selected in a reasonable amount of time. I’m actually kind of worried about what other surprises await us as we discover more of the house. I can’t imagine that the Mandragora is the only potential danger.”
“There’s an easy solution,” Abella said. “We need to make sure that someone is with him at all times. Currently, any time he is outside the house, he is under my care.”
“You can come inside,” Mike offered. “There’s no reason for you to be out here.”
“There is, actually. I’m a living statue-not only am I likely to damage the interior of the house, but my kind hates being indoors. I come inside only for emergencies.”
“Oh.” Mike sat on the edge of the fountain. The water was warm, heated by Naia’s magic. “If guardianship is so important, then why didn’t Emily have something set up in advance?”
Naia shrugged, her greenish-blue hair shifting along the curves of her breasts. She was wearing her simple gown currently, which Mike actually preferred. It gave her some wonderful cleavage to look at. “It seems like there was a reason, but it’s been gobbled up for me. I remember arguing about it with her, but there are definitely gaps.”
“Which means it involves another monster.” Mike frowned at the water. “It seems like inheriting this home in itself is like a trial of sorts. If I’m not qualified for the job, something could kill me.”
Naia and Abella exchanged looks. “Someone with him at all times,” they both said.
“Well, that just means Tink needs to stick with me when I’m indoors,” Mike said.
“Anytime you go exploring, anyway. Currently, you’ve restricted your explorations to out here, and unless you go back in the greenhouse, you should be fine.”
‘And I need to feed the Mandragora, apparently. Any other plants living in there I should worry about?“
Naia shrugged, but Abella nodded.
“Yes, actually. The forest inside the greenhouse is an extension of the house. The plants being grown in there are there for a reason. Think of it like a little herb garden, but with spell components. A wizard would kill for access to it- I imagine that there are things in there that might even be extinct in the wild.”
“Wait, wizards? Those are real too?” Mike looked to Naia, who just rolled her eyes at him.
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”
“They aren’t as prevalent in those pigwarts books,” Naia told him.
“Hogwarts,” Mike corrected her.
“Whatever. Last I heard, the wizards of this realm were extremely limited in number. Less than forty total since Merlin sealed away magic for humans. Maybe one person a century figures out how to do magic, and usually the others track him down and kill him.”
“Holy shit.” Mike shook his head. “That’s insane.”
“Now you know why monsters and magic items are so coveted. For some, it’s the only way to gain any true power.” Naia tilted her head at Abella. “Gargoyles are impervious to most normal means. Neither blade nor flame can scratch their hides, and they are extremely strong. There are few places in the world that could protect you from a gargoyle attack. With just Abella at your side, you could have your enemies killed with little fear of recourse.”
“Well, not that I really do that now,” Abella added. “I’m bound to the house. Unless such a task involves the long term protection of this place, I can’t fly very far from here without feeling a strong urge to return.”
“So, if I was in trouble a mile from here, you would come for me?” Mike asked.
“If I knew you were in trouble, potentially. It would need to be a situation dire enough that I knew your chances of survival were slim.” Abella shrugged, her stony breasts shifting. “I’m more like a bouncer than anything else.”
“How do you know what a bouncer is?” Mike asked.
“Please. I’m not that sheltered.” Abella popped another bubble. “I have a people fetish. I watch lots of TV.”
“Outside?” Mike asked.
“Emily would leave the window open for me sometimes,” Abella said. “It’s not like I need sleep or anything.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be watching the house?” Mike asked.
“Gargoyles have phenomenal hearing,” Abella told him. “If it’s quiet enough, I can hear a heartbeat from twenty feet.”
“Whoa.” Mike said.
“Speaking of which, Tink is looking for you. I can hear her calling your name.” Abella informed him.
“She’s probably worried. I’ve been gone all day.” Mike walked in the back door listening carefully. He heard noise from the kitchen, and found Tink digging through a junk drawer full of random crap.
“Hey there.” Tink jumped at the sound of his voice. Her body was covered in dirt and grime, and even cobwebs. “Where have you been?”
“Checking pipes,” Tink informed him, beaming a smile. “Easy fix.”
“What are you looking for in there?” Mike asked.
“Tink look for money.”
“Why do you need money?”
The doorbell chimed, echoing through the house. Mike stared at Tink, who stared back.
“Who is that?” Mike asked.
“Pizza.” Tink replied, scratching at a greasy smudge on her face.
“How did you order a pizza?”
“Tink use magic screen. Type in pizza.”
Mike stared at the little goblin, mouth open. “My laptop was locked. How did you get in?”
Tink tapped the goggles on her head. “Tink order extra good pizza.” The door chimed again. Mike grabbed his hair in frustration, then pointed at Tink
“Stay out of sight. We’ll have the internet talk later.” Tink shrugged, walking out of the kitchen. Shaking his head, he ran to the front of the house, opening the door. Holding pizza in one hand and a two liter of soda in the other was Dana. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and tonight she wore a tight white top under her black jacket. The jacket was unzipped, revealing a large pair of breasts that had been forced together by a dark black bra that peeked out along the edges of her neckline, the same breasts that had sent him into Naia’s tub in the first place.
Mike’s mouth went dry.
“Hey!” Dana said, handing over the pizza. “How are things?”
“Um, good?” Mike took the pizza in one hand. Dana was all smiles for him, and he felt that familiar nervousness hit him, a wave of anxiety across his whole body. “Uh, I didn’t, um, expect you so fast. Let me grab my wallet.”
“Yeah, sure.” Mike backed into the house and was dismayed when Dana followed him inside
“Whoa, this place is spooky!” Dana looked around at the furniture, which was still covered with white sheets. She pointed just off to the side of the stairs. “Does that Grandfather clock actually work?” She knelt down to examine the pendulum. The back of her pants slid down, revealing that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Dana opened the door of the clock, her jacket sliding up to reveal a tattoo along her lower back.
“I, um…” Where had that clock come from? He couldn’t concentrate, staring at Dana’s exposed ass. “I’ll be right back.” He ran into the kitchen. Tink was busy staring at his laptop computer, which she had unlocked again. “Don’t touch anything on there,” he told her, setting the pizza down on the table. Grabbing his wallet, he walked back out to the main room to find Dana giving the pendulum inside the clock a push.
The entryway filled with the soft sounds of moving gears. The old clock’s second hand started moving around the face of the clock. Dana’s face lit up in excitement. “That is so cool!” She declared.
“You like clocks or something?” Mike asked. He held out a twenty, unsure what the total was.
“Oh yeah. I’m going to school for mechanical engineering. I love stuff like this.” Dana took the money from him and dug into her pockets for change. Upstairs, Mike heard a loud splash in the bathroom. They both looked up.
“What was that?” Dana asked.
“Bad pipe. Trying to get it fixed is all. Go ahead, keep the change,” Mike told her.
“Are you sure? Thank you!” Dana’s face lit up, and she hugged Mike. Her breasts were soft, pushing against his chest, and Mike felt a shiver as his body redirected blood flow to his dick. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry!” She said, her face turning red as she backed away, stuffing the money in her pocket. “I don’t normally do that, it’s just that you’ve been very generous, and I needed extra money for my car payment, and you’re so cu-“Dana’s mouth slammed shut, her face glowing brighter. "I’m sorry, I just-thank you.”
“It’s okay. I remember what it’s like, working my way through school. I’m doing pretty well now, so just trying to pay it forward.” He stepped around her, opening the door. Dana stepped out onto the porch and Mike would have left her there, but Cecilia was sitting on the swing, gazing out into the yard. Mike walked onto the porch, keeping Dana from looking at the banshee. “So tell me more about your major.”
“Not a lot to tell. Class during the day, labs on weekend mornings. I have this gig to help make ends meet with student loans and such. I’m the only girl in my program, so I deal with a lot of creeps.” Mike stayed just ahead of her, walking down the path to her car, hoping she wouldn’t look back. Cecilia seemed quite content on her swing, her hair fanning out around her as if she was storing up a massive charge. “Hey, if you need an extra hand fixing stuff around here, I would love to help out. My dad worked construction when I was growing up, so I’m pretty handy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” They were at her car now, the glowing Pizza Palace marquee on her roof. She seemed reluctant to leave, but gave him a wave, the light from her GPS casting an eerie light on her face as she drove away. Mike let out a huge sigh, then ran back up the steps to the house. Cecilia wasn’t sitting anymore-instead she was staring inside the living room window.
“Something is happening,” she informed him.
“What’s happening?” Mike asked. Cecilia shrugged. You’re the Check Engine Light of the Damned, Mike thought to himself. He walked inside, staring upstairs and then toward the kitchen. Choosing the kitchen, he found Tink sitting at the table, clicking through websites on his laptop while eating her ill-gotten pizza.
“We need to have a quick chat about… what the hell are you eating?” He was standing behind her, and Tink tilted her head up and back.
“Tink order best pizza,” she informed him, holding up a slice for his inspection. Pepperoni, sausage, and pineapple adorned the top. The soda she had picked was orange, most of which was gone already. Only two slices of pizza were left in the box.
“You really are a little monster, aren’t you?” Mike flicked a piece of pineapple off.
“Tink find good stuff on magic screen,” Tink informed him. Looking over the top of her head, he saw that she was on Amazon and currently had nearly a hundred items in his cart. He leaned past her and opened it up to see what she was buying.
“Tink!” He shouted, seeing that his total was in

Home for Horny Monsters: Romancing the Stone -

Wed, 03 Aug 2022 11:31:19 -0500

Home for Horny Monsters: Romancing the Stone -
The magic screen, deserted fountain, and the mandragora. (part 4)
By writerannabelle. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
A chill went up his spine at the thought of the banshee. He needed to make nice with her, and he thought he had a good way to do it. He placed his hand on the top rail of the stairs, looking down the rest of the hall. Two doors on each side of the hall and a tall, ebony wardrobe with a silver handle.
Had that wardrobe always been there?
The sound of breaking glass startled him. He ran down the stairs and into the kitchen to see Tink frowning at a busted bowl on the floor. She blushed when she saw him.
“Tink got startled,” she explained, eying the bowl. “But Tink can fix.”
“Don’t bother.” Mike grabbed a broom and swept up the glass. “Bowls are easily replaced.” Tink nodded at this, following him into the kitchen. Mike pulled the box of Eggos out of the freezer.
“Are those good?” Tink asked. Mike nodded, shoving them in the toaster.
“Eggos? The best, as long as you know how to dress them up properly.” Pulling a tub of butter from the fridge, he set syrup and peanut butter next to it. When the toaster popped, he stacked the Eggos on his plate, slathering them first in butter, then peanut butter. He topped them with some syrup, handing them to Tink. “Try that and let me know what you think?”
Tink took the plate, sniffing at the Eggos. “Tink not so sure,” she informed him before picking up an Eggo. She bit into it, syrup and peanut butter running down her chin.
“So what do you think?” Mike asked.
“Tink think goblin husband learn to cook.” She handed the plate back to Mike. “Tink need real food.” She opened the fridge, standing on her tiptoes to see to the back. Her double nipples perked up under the cold air. “Tink like pizza.”
“Well, we’re out of pizza, but maybe this will help.” Mike pulled a bag of pizza rolls out of the freezer. “We can cook these up in a hurry.”
“Use oven. Microwave is lazy.” Tink took the bag from him, reading the instructions. “Tink can do this. Mike eat Eggo things.”
“Fair enough.” Clearly, he and Tink had different tastes in food. He made a pot of coffee, which Tink happily shared with him while they waited. Tink unceremoniously dumped the whole bag onto a pan, and Mike sighed inwardly. When he had bought food yesterday, he hadn’t accounted for another mouth to feed. Tink found a pad of paper in one of the drawers and was busy jotting notes to herself as the pizza rolls cooked. Mike dug through a collection of inbound emails, mostly job related, when he saw one from the Historical Preservation Society.
Curious, he clicked the link. The writer of the email laid out all sorts of reasons why they wanted to buy the place, but Mike didn’t bother reading it. He trashed the file after only a few sentences.
“Show Tink.” The goblin appeared between him and the laptop, her head blocking his view. “Show Tink how to use magic screen.”
“I’ll show you later. What did you put on the list?” Tink handed him the paper. Her handwriting was surprisingly elegant, a cursive lettering that made him think of wedding invitations. Scanning the list, Mike felt a hard lump form in his throat. Every line of the paper was full with something that needed fixing. “You found all of these things wrong already?”
“Tink know some from before.” The oven beeped, and Tink left his side to retrieve her breakfast. Mike couldn’t help but watch her as she inspected each roll carefully between her claws before popping them in her mouth. “Before big sleep, Tink keep journal on broken stuff, but Emily not always buy Tink supplies. Bad ladies won’t let her, she tell Tink.”
“Bad ladies?” Mike thought of the email. “Oh, the historical society. Yeah, we have to be careful doing repairs, apparently. This place is on a national registry, and we have to follow the rules or…”
Or what? That was a question for Beth, obviously. What was to keep him from doing whatever he wanted to the house? Some of the items on list were simple enough, and he didn’t see any harm in letting Tink work on them.
“Hey Tink.” Tink, her mouth full of pizza rolls, tilted her head at him. “This thing right here. I’m planning to take care of that.”
Tink nodded her head, swallowing pizza rolls. “You do good job, or Tink be mad.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t need any more people mad at him. “Do we have the supplies for this?”
“Tink show you.” The goblin led him out to the garage, where he once again navigated the maze of boxes.
“Are these books yours?” he asked.
“No. Tink read sometime, but not these. These belong to-” Tink stopped walking, her eyes going blank. “That strange. Tink forget.”
“Not that strange,” Mike muttered. Tink led him down to her dwelling beneath the garage. Mike tilted his head to fit, listening carefully as Tink described her organization system. She opened various drawers and boxes, showing Mike how everything fit together like a Tetris game from hell. Opening the third box, Mike held up a hand in surrender.
“Tink, you don’t live down here anymore. If it’s possible, could we take these things out of the boxes and use the very nice tool benches upstairs?”
“Tink make trade. Mike move books out, Tink move tools back.”
“Deal.” He kissed Tink on the forehead, the little goblin’s face turning a darker shade of green. “But that’s a job for a different day. Right now, I need some WD-40, a couple of screwdrivers, and those shears I bought.”
Tink dug through the boxes, pulling out the things Mike needed, and stuffing them into a small toolbox she slid out from under her own bench. She threw in some extra items, then handed it to Mike. “You go fix, Tink check pipes.”
“You got it.” Mike left the goblin behind, smiling at the sound of Tink humming a little song to herself. He cast a look back, briefly watching her assemble her own box of tools. He picked his way through the garage, briefly wondering if the garage door would even open if he tried. Deciding that he wasn’t feeling adventurous enough to chance it, he took the long route through the house, stepping out into the real world on the front porch.
The swing swayed back and forth, squeaking incessantly, but an actual breeze was passing through, which meant Mike had no idea if Cecilia was there. There was an easy way to find out.
“Hello? Cecilia?” He moved closer to the swing, fighting the urge to shut his eyes. It was like watching a scary movie, and knowing that the scary part was coming. “Are you out here?” The swing swayed gently, no sign of slowing down. If the banshee was gone, that would make the process that much easier. He approached the swing, grabbing the chain and unhooking it from the frame, lowering it to the ground. When nothing bad happened, he inspected the eye hook at the top of the chain.
Sure enough, it had managed to wiggle partially free, the surface rusting over. Staring at the useless screwdrivers he had chosen, he found the wrench that Tink had tucked away for him. He laughed, using the wrench to twist the eyehook. Barely moving, he used a few sprays of the WD-40 to help move things along. It took him a few minutes, but he managed to yank it free.
Using a rag in the toolbox, Mike gave the screw a good cleaning, scraping the rust off as best he could. Inspecting the screw, he looked inside the hole of the frame. It was caked with rust as well. He used one of the screwdrivers to clean it out as best he could, knocking loose quite a bit of rust and dirt. Sticking the eyebolt back in, he twisted it tightly into place. He gave it an experimental tug, and it held fast.
“Here goes nothing,” he muttered, picking up the chain. Lifting his arm to reattach it, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck lift as the temperature dropped. Spinning in place, he saw that she was only a foot from him, her body hovering inches off the ground, both hands balled at her side. Her face a twisted mask, Cecilia took a deep breath and opened her mouth.
“Wait!” Mike cried, dropping the chain and holding his hands in front of him. “Just hear me out!” He knelt down, lifting the chain and the bench, hooking it back through the eyebolt. Keeping a cautious eye on Cecilia, he sat down gently, wincing as he gave a gentle kick of his legs. The porch swing was silent, gliding back and forth with just the soft rustling of the frame above it. “I know that you like this swing, so I thought I would fix it for you.”
Cecilia’s ghostly features softened, her hands reaching out to touch the moving chain. She glided gently around Mike, sitting down beside him on the swing. The air by her skin was cool, and she closed her eyes, letting out a sigh.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft with an Irish lilt to it. Milky eyes staring into the distance, her hand felt along the bench, resting on his knee. “I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. My name is Mike, by the way.” Mike tried to stand, but Cecilia squeezed his leg, holding him in place.
“I’m sorry about before.” She turned her sightless eyes toward him. “Please stay with me for just a bit. I haven’t had anyone to talk to in quite some time.”
Mike could think of several things he wanted to do instead, but Cecilia’s demeanor was not only drastically different, but he couldn’t help but notice just how cute she was.
“Okay, sure. I can stay for a bit.”
“Thank you.” Cecilia rocked on the swing next to Mike, saying nothing for several minutes. Mike stared at the banshee, more than curious. Her white clothing was simple, but tailor made for her body, and her curls were as white as she was, though they terminated in eerie spikes that spread out around her as if she sat on a Van De Graaff generator.
The chill of her hand was intense through his jeans. Uncomfortable, he slid his hand beneath hers, lifting it slightly.
“I hope this is okay,” he told her, as a slight grin crossed her face.
“You’re the first man to hold my hand in many years,” she informed him. “The last one to do that was-” Her entire body flickered, like a shock had gone through her. “-someone whose name I can’t remember.”
“Yep.” Mike couldn’t help but notice how soft her skin was. The longer he held her hand, the warmer she felt. “Now that you’re not pissed at me, you don’t seem very banshee-ish.”
This elicited a frown from Cecilia. “A banshee is what I am, not how I act. It used to be something I was proud to be, a job I was proud to do.”
“A job?”
Cecilia nodded. “Every family had its own banshee. It was my job to guide them into the afterlife when they passed. Nobody loves a banshee for what they represent, but they needed us for what we did. Our wails of sorrow were to announce our coming, and we would guide the spirits into the ever after.”
“So… the afterlife is real?”
Cecilia nodded. “Very much so. When Emily passed, I was allowed to guide her soul to its resting place.”
“That’s, wow.” That was something to chew on, for certain. “What’s it like?”
Cecilia smiled. “You’ll find out someday.”
“To be honest, I try not to think of it much.” Mike winced. “I had a close call when I was younger.”
“I can tell. Your soul has a certain polish to it.” Cecilia’s face broke into a wicked smile. “Tell me, do you-” Cecilia flickered, vanishing from view at the creaking of the front steps. A woman in her forties walked slowly up the wooden stairs, accompanied by a much younger woman. Her long black hair was wound tightly in a bun, but there was plenty left over that it had been fashioned into a long braid beneath it. She wore a simple gray skirt with a modest white blouse. Her dark eyes found Mike, and she paused at the top of the stairs.
“Are you Mr. Radley?” Her tone was formal, the question almost a command.
“That’s me.” Mike stood, walking across the porch. He was going to shake her hand, but his stomach clenched suddenly, sending pain through his gut. He grabbed the railing instead.
“My name is Elizabeth. This is my daughter Sarah.” Sarah’s dark hair scattered along the fabric of her red suit jacket, contrasting nicely in the sunlight. Her skirt matched her jacket, and a low cut top was accentuated by a shimmering blue stone pendant that dangled perilously between her large breasts. “We are from the Historical Preservation Society, and I was wondering if we could have a word with you.”
Mike found his mouth inexplicable dry, his forced smile twitching. Something about Elizabeth made him more than uneasy, a gut feeling that he couldn’t ignore. “Um, sure, I guess.”
“Excellent, Mr. Radley.” Elizabeth stayed where she was, her eyes locked on Mike. Mike saw Sarah staring at the door of the house. “Maybe it would be best if we went inside?”
Mike immediately thought of Tink wandering around the house in just a shirt and goggles. “I would prefer we speak out here, actually. It’s a bit stuffy inside, and I wasn’t expecting company.”
“We can talk out here then.” Elizabeth held up a folder, and Mike immediately recognized it as identical to the one Beth had taken away with her yesterday. “I was informed yesterday evening by the estate agent that you declined our offer to buy this property without even looking at it.”
“Um, yes, I did decline the offer.” It was odd, but he couldn’t help but notice that Elizabeth stood on the top step of the porch rather than the actual porch. “I’ve decided to live here.”
“By yourself?” Sarah asked, her predatory eyes scanning the windows. If Elizabeth was giving him a mad school principal vibe, then Sarah was a cop who had pulled him over and was ready to bust a taillight.
“I’ve been by myself most of my life.” The feeling in his gut manifested now as a cold ball of ice. What the hell was going on? “I’m not sure why it would change anytime soon.”
“Well, this is a pretty big place for just one man, Mr. Radley.” Elizabeth’s smile didn’t make it to her eyes. “And I can’t help but be offended that you didn’t even consider looking at our offer.” Sarah had taken a step back from her mother to get a better view of the second floor windows.
“Why are you so interested in this place?” Mike asked, leaning against the rail.
“It was one of the first homes built in the area,” Elizabeth told him. “Constructed by a mysterious architect, and paid for by an unknown benefactor. This home is a mystery hiding in plain site, and the Historical Preservation Society is interested in not only answering these questions, but preserving the home’s original beauty.”
“Well, if that’s your primary concern, then you should know I have no intention of changing anything about this house.”
“But caring for such a place will be hard for a single person, don’t you agree Mr. Radley?” Sarah had backed down the steps all the way, squinting at the shadows under the porch.
“I’ve already got someone to help with that.” Mike crossed his arms. “Can I help your daughter with something?”
Sarah was crouched down, inspecting the bushes Mike had fallen into yesterday, gloved hands gently touching their branches. Surprised that Mike was watching her, she stood up suddenly.
“She’s been fascinated by this place since she was a little girl,” Elizabeth informed him. “I would like for you to actually look at our offer this time, Mr. Radley. Strongly consider it. I promise you that this home will only become a burden, one that the women of the Society will be more than happy to take on.” She held the folder out.
“I’ll look, but no promises.” Mike took the folder, and Elizabeth’s finger briefly touched his. He felt a tiny spark, and suddenly Elizabeth’s smile finally reached her eyes.
“We’ll be in touch,” she told him, moving off the steps and down the walkway to the street. Sarah smirked, following her mother out to a sports car parked partially on his driveway. He didn’t bother waving as they roared back out of his driveway. The cold feeling in his stomach faded, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
“What a couple of fucking weirdos,” he muttered, staring at the paper in his hands. He opened the file, revealing a set of legal documents and a monetary offer that was entirely too large. Mike couldn’t help but notice that the offer they had supplied him pertained to the contents of the house as well.
“Okay, gotcha.” Mike closed the folder and walked inside the house. Naia had made it very clear that there were people who wanted the home for its inhabitants (however many of them there were), and the odd behavior of Elizabeth and Sarah now made perfect sense.
Well, almost. Obviously, Sarah was hoping to get a peek at one of the inhabitants, and her behavior had been anything but normal. Elizabeth acted pleasant enough, but he had recognized the mask she wore all too well. His own mother had donned it every time they needed a new place to sleep for the night, every time she needed to bargain just another week on the couch. This was a woman who was used to getting her way, and Mike wasn’t playing along.
He sat at his computer, pulling up the website for the Historical Preservation Society. There were several members, and a little digging revealed that Elizabeth and Sarah were indeed high ranking members. He frowned, staring at their smiling faces. Looking again at the folder, he tossed it in the trash. If those two knew there was more to the house than he was letting on, he needed to figure out how to divert their attention elsewhere.
That could wait, however. He walked back out front, hoping to strike up another conversation with Cecilia, but the banshee didn’t appear. Grabbing his toolbox, he wandered back through the house and out into the garden. The fountain was flowing freely now, and several small birds were bathing in the upper basin. Naia, floating in the water, had one hand in the air with two small finches chirping happily to her on her fingertips.
“What are they saying?” Mike asked, setting down the toolbox. He couldn’t help but notice that Naia’s fountain was clean, but the surrounding area had been covered in dirt and muck from her blowing out the lines and overflowing the fountain yesterday.
“They’re telling me about the visitors you had,” Naia said, giving her hand a flick. The birds took flight, landing in the basin to join their brethren. “You felt sick around them, yes?”
“Yeah. How did you know?”
“That touch of precognition I told you about. Those women were trouble, and I could sense your apprehension.” Naia sat up, the water pushing her into a seated position. “What did they want?”
“They want to buy the place. I think they know something is up, because one of them kept trying to peek in the windows.”
“She wouldn’t have seen anything if she had. Unless you invite someone in, the Gaes protects us from outside observation. Tink could stand naked in the doorway of the house, and it would appear empty to them.”
“Spooky.” Mike sat on the edge of the fountain. “Yeah, when they wanted to come inside, I felt super uncomfortable.”
“That’s from the magic. Listen to it always.”
Mike nodded. “Don’t worry, I will. Oh, I talked with Cecilia. She didn’t shriek at me this time, and we chatted a bit. That was kind of cool, not having the shit scared out of me.”
Naia nodded. “Emily always told me that Cecilia was very kind.”
“Yeah, well, it was nice to talk to her. Are all the monsters here like that? Are you all friendly?”
Naia shrugged. “I want to say yes, but I can’t say for certain. It would make sense that we all respond well to be taken care of-this was meant to be our haven, our stronghold. Gone are the days when monsters roamed the world freely. For many of us, that’s a good thing though. Several of us treated mankind as a food source, or our playthings.”
“Well, humans do the same thing to each other, actually.” Mike scowled at the water.
“Like your mother?” Naia asked.
Mike nodded. “In the worst way. I spent years thinking that she would one day love me back, accept me, show me kindness. I’m glad she’s dead, but that makes me feel bad, so it’s a cycle that can’t really be broken. I’ll never get that closure, so…” Mike shrugged. “It is what it is.”
Naia sat next to Mike, running her hands down his arms. “I can think of a way to take your mind off of it,” she suggested.
Mike laughed. “That sounds like an amazing offer, but if I’m going to take care of this place, I actually

Home for Horny Monsters: Squatter’s Rights -

Tue, 02 Aug 2022 11:31:03 -0500

Home for Horny Monsters: Squatter’s Rights -
Mike inherits an old house with fuckable monster girls! (part 3)
By writerannabelle. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
“Give up, Tink. I’ve won,” Mike panted, sweat pouring off his body. “It’s over.”
Tink fixed him with an angry stare, which quickly melted into defeat. Her large eyes pooled with tears, and she turned her face away from Mike.
“Tink lose. Tink give up goblin home.” She snuffled, the dirt on the floor billowing away from her. “Tink leave, and no come back.”
“Wait, what?” Tink had relaxed beneath Mike, so he shifted his body so that he wasn’t crushing her any longer. “No, Tink, you don’t have to leave, I just want my tools so I can fix the fountain.”
“Goblin Law. We fight over home. Loser leave, never come back.” She tried to rise, but Mike wasn’t having it. He knew that Naia would be disappointed in him if he managed to lose one of the inhabitants of the house so quickly.
And honestly, was he even as entitled to the home as they were? They had been here longer, he was just the current human legally entitled to the place. Watching the goblin weep beneath him, he couldn’t help but feel extremely bad. Tink obviously came from a culture he wasn’t going to understand overnight, but this was a problem he needed to take care of right this second.
“I don’t want Tink to leave,” Mike explained. The instant the words left his mouth, the goblin turned her head toward him. There was a glimmer of hope that he was afraid to shatter, so he waited for her next move.
“Goblin Law say fight over home, someone leave.”
Mike fought hard to avoid rolling his eyes. Clearly her head was hard literally and metaphorically. “Well, goblin law doesn’t apply here. This is my house, so we follow my laws.”
Tink shook her head. “Always follow Goblin Law.”
“Well, then is there a law that lets us fight and you get to stay?” He felt Tink relax even more beneath his arm. Her snuffling stopped, and she became silent beneath his arms.
“Fight for goblin wife,” she whispered.
“Oh.” Mike was officially between a rock and a hard place with the little green monster he had found beneath the garage. If he took her as a goblin wife, then what did that entail? Then again, where would she go if she left? Naia had warned her that the world was a bad place for monsters, and it occurred to him that, as far as he knew, nobody even remotely believed goblins still existed. What if Tink was the last of her kind? What about his relationship with Naia? “Shit.”
“No have to take goblin wife,” Tink whispered. “Tink can just go.”
“Well, hold on.” The gears in his mind were turning. “If I take you as goblin wife, what about other people? Do we have to live down here?”
“Goblin husband take many wives. Goblin wife no mind.”
“Okay. Well Tink, this was a fight for a goblin wife. Now you don’t have to leave.” Mike wanted to clap himself on the back, but he wanted to keep Tink pinned.
“Fight for goblin wife not over,” she told him. Seeing the puzzled look on his face, she gently grabbed one of his hands and dragged it down to her breast. “Different kind of fight.”
“Oh.” Mike wasn’t sure what to say, but he was immediately struck at how firm the breast beneath his hand was. It was slightly bigger than his hand, and as he dragged his thumb across the top, he felt a pair of nipples, stacked vertically. He gave it a squeeze, releasing Tink’s arms. She immediately grabbed him by the hair on the back of his head, pulling him close.
“Tink want you to fight harder,” she hissed, pulling him in. Clawed hands dragged down her back, just hard enough to remind Mike that they were there. They found the waist band of his shorts, shoving them down. Mike grabbed her breasts tightly now, and Tink’s clawed hand found Mike’s cock. “Fight even harder. Make goblin wife.”
Mike wrapped his hand in her hair, looping it across his knuckles so that he could yank it backward. He pulled her face in, suddenly entranced by the exotic curl of her lips, something he only saw now that her fangs weren’t bared at him. Tink was working his shaft with both tiny hands, dragging her just the tips of her claws expertly across his dick. He shivered, the sensation hitting him directly in the gut.
“Almost ready,” Tink muttered, licking the palms of her hand with an unusually long tongue. Mike bit down on her breast, rolling her double nipples around with his tongue. He was amazed at how large each nipple was in his mouth, and she arched her back.
“Bite harder, sweaty man.”
Mike chomped down, expecting a cry of protest, but he got a moan of pleasure. Her skin was dirty, but tasted mainly of the earth, and didn’t yield in the slightest. Letting up, he curled three fingers and caught her double nipples between his knuckles, pinching them and pulling up. Snarling, Tink grabbed the head of his hard cock, now slippery, and placed it at the edge of her pussy.
“Make me goblin wife,” she growled, and Mike obliged. He shoved his way into her, her tight pussy squeezing him the whole way in.
“Holy shit!” Mike yelled, feeling hard ridges inside of Tink rub against his glans. Tink wrapped tiny legs around Mike and forced herself up to meet him, but she was so tight, he wasn’t getting in any further than just the first couple inches.
“Fight from bottom,” Tink begged, and Mike rolled on his back. She mounted him, forcing herself down, and Mike felt like his dick was being squeezed by a set of angry hands. She struggled, only three inches of his dick penetrating her tight folds. Mike grabbed her shoulders first, trying to push her down. The tender side of him demanded that he show some sort of gentle gesture, so he ran one hand lovingly across her brow and then back through her hair.
What was this? Mike swept Tink’s hair aside to reveal a horn, nearly three inches long, hidden in the wild tangles of her hair. Surprised, he searched the other side of her head, finding another, slightly shorter horn. Suddenly inspired, he clamped his hands down tight, forcing Tink onto his cock.
Tink couldn’t reach the root of his cock, her insides simply not large enough for him. Her tiny belly bulged outward with every thrust of his dick. Tink panted, mouth open wide, as she rode Mike hard, squeezing at his pecks with clawed hands. Her wide hips made it easy for her legs to wrap around Mike’s waist, and she was lifting and dropping so quickly that Mike was tensing his stomach just to brace for impact.
“Oh! Oh fuck!” Mike felt his insides churn, his balls getting ready to blast a load. Tink, sensing this, rode even harder, guttural moans and drool leaving her mouth, gasping for air as her fingers clutched Mike’s biceps. Mike yanked down on her horns, squeezing tight, and Tink’s grunts became a protracted growl. Mike’s whole body tightened, and Tink threw herself forward, slipping free of Mike’s hold, to sink her teeth into her shoulder.
“Ow, you fucking-” Mike bit her back, trying to dig his own teeth into the flesh around her neck. His crotch was suddenly soaked in Tink’s cum, and she screamed through her teeth. His shoulder hurt like hell, but his balls never got the message. Mike bit her even harder, filling her with three giant bursts of cum, Tink grunting as each one entered her.
She released him with her teeth, leaving a thin pattern of needle-like injuries all around his shoulder. Mike let go too, leaving mostly just indentations and spit on her skin. Her pussy contracted, squeezing out another stream of goo, and Mike shuddered with pleasure. Tink laid her head down on Mike’s chest, letting out a low rumble like a cat.
“Tinker now goblin wife of sweaty man,” she told him, tracing her fingers along his arm.
“Tinker? Is that your full name?” Tink nodded, her shining eyes on his. “Well, you can call me Mike, not sweaty man.”
“Mike goblin husband. Tink belong to Mike now.” She sighed, laying her head down. Mike held her this way for a bit, letting his body relax. Even as his dick softened, her goblin cunt was still so tight that she held him in place.
“Well, Tinker-”
“Husband call me Tink.”
“Well, Tink, I’m sure there’s plenty of daylight left. I need my tools to fix the fountain.”
Tink shook her head, her ears flopping lightly beneath her hair. “Tink good at fixing. Tink help, you see.” She dismounted, Mike’s dick plopping free along with a giant puddle of cum. Tink squatted, lapping up the mess with her long, slippery tongue, until his cock was clean once more.
“Jesus all-mighty,” Mike muttered to himself, finding his shorts. Tink was holding what was left of her dress, string at it in sadness.
“Tink need new outfit,” she informed him, tossing the rags aside.
“I think I have a shirt that will fit you,” he said, not wanting to waste any more time thinking about it.
“Good idea. Husband get new dress, Tink go look at fountain.” She had already retrieved her goggles, fixing them in place on her head, and had grabbed a small toolbox next to the bench. “We go.”
Tink followed Mike out, and they navigated the labyrinth of books until they got to the back door. The sun was past the roof of the house now, meaning it was at least four in the afternoon. In the sun’s light, Tink’s skin took on a pretty hue beneath all the grime, and he could now see the giant, single areola that surrounded her double nipples. Dark green pubes hid her crotch from view.
Seeing where his eyes were looking, Tink became suddenly bashful. She held the toolbox up, covering her crotch with it.
“Get Tink’s dress,” she said, her yellow eyes looking away from him. Mike left her behind, running up the stairs to retrieve a spare t-shirt from his bag. Today had destroyed a significant chunk of his wardrobe. He needed to go shopping soon.
Mike grabbed a simple black t-shirt from his bag. He didn’t bother putting a new shirt on-his new scrapes and cuts were still clotting. Staring in the mirror, he just shook his head. It looked like he had fallen through a plate glass window. The bite marks on his shoulder, however, had already clotted up. He really hoped that goblin bites weren’t poisonous.
When he got outside, Tink was squatting, naked, inside the fountain. He was handing her his shirt when he watched a spoonful of cum dribble free from her pussy.
“This nice.” Tink inspected the material before slipping it over her head. The sleeves were a little too wide, but the length was perfect. It covered Tink down to her knees. Mike joined her in the fountain, and the two of them started by scraping the mud and grime from the bottom, scooping it over the side into the bucket that he had brought home. The center of the fountain was a simple marble monolith with a single basin that would overflow into the giant basin below.
Scraping up the muck and grime, Mike couldn’t help but sneak glances at Tink. Her tiny body was lean and sexy in a different way than Naia’s had been. However, in the light of day, it was obvious that Tink was in need of a bath, and Mike hoped that Naia would be willing to share her tub.
“How long have you been hiding in the garage, Tink?” Mike asked.
“Tink there for-” Tink put a clawed finger to her lips, deep in thought. “Hm. Tink not sure. Tink remember big sleep, wake up yesterday.” She shrugged.
“Do you remember Emily?”
Tink nodded. “Human lady. No need to fight. She let Tink live in garage.”
“Wait. You didn’t have to fight her, but you fought with me?”
“Is goblin way. Males too aggressive, always take, never give. All males fight.”
“Well, you need to remember that I’m not a goblin Tink. Do you think you can do that for me?” Tink stopped what she was doing, casting a soulful look in Mike’s direction. Several seconds passed.
“Tink remember.” A sly grin crossed her face as she traced a line down Mike’s thigh. “Mike much bigger than a goblin.”
“Oh, well, thank’s, Tink.”
“Not much of a biter, though.” Tink stuck her hand into a crevasse, twisting her hands and pulling free a long trail of rocky sludge. It was almost a foot long, and Mike could hear stone scraping on stone as it slid free. Tink tossed the sludge over the edge of the fountain, and Mike heard the sounds of water rushing up from beneath the earth.
“We did it, Tink!” Mike high fived Tink, grabbing her around the waist. He picked her up and they jumped out of the fountain, escaping the icy cold water as it filled the basin. Tiny bubbles of energy formed, fluttering around the fountain like butterflies, and Naia surfaced, wearing a simple cloth dress over her body.
“Gods, it’s so good to be outside,” Naia said, eyes closed and arms wide. She took a deep breath of fresh air, opening her eyes to survey her fountain. “Let’s work out some kinks, shall we?”
Naia snapped her fingers, and the stone monolith shook, blasting dirt and mud free. Water rolled down its sides, filling the middle basin with fresh spring water. The remaining dirt and mud was caught in tiny tide pools, which spun them into a surface froth that was unceremoniously dumped over the side onto the concrete slab beneath the fountain.
“Oh, it’s like having the feeling come back to your legs after they fall asleep. Thank you so much Mike!” Naia turned to blow Mike a kiss, but froze when she saw Tink standing behind him. “Tink? Is that you?”
“Naia!” Tink scrambled onto the rim of the fountain, standing eye to breast with Naia. Naia gave the goblin a tight hug.
“You know Tink?” Mike asked.
“Of course I do. She is in charge of keeping the house in working order. Goblins are typically quite dumb, but Tink is somehow brighter than most humans, though she may not sound like it.” Naia gave Tink an affectionate pat on the head. “I remember that she was one of the last monsters collected, still just a child when she came here. She stayed mostly in the garage, though. Her people have a weird thing about housing.”
“Yeah. I ran into that. Apparently she’s officially my goblin wife.” Mike winced inwardly, waiting for the emotional fallout.
“Tink, is this true?” Naia asked, kneeling down in the water so the two were face to face.
“We fight,” Tink declared. “Mike win goblin wife.”
“I’m so happy for you!” Naia and Tink embraced again, causing Mike to shake his head. He was having one hell of a weird day.
“This doesn’t bother you?” Mike asked.
“Of course not, silly. I have a part of your soul, remember? You don’t realize this, but in a way, this is the nicest thing you could do for her.” Naia patted Tink’s head affectionately. “Her kind doesn’t care for goblins like her. She’s very smart, which is bad enough if you’re a goblin female, but she is also very ugly for her kind.”
“Ugly?” Mike didn’t think so, though his definition of beauty was currently in a rapid tailspin.
Naia nodded. “Goblins are a weird bunch. Trust me, you would have had no reason to make a wife of any normal goblin.” Naia’s nose crinkled. “Tink, you stink.”
“Tink hungry too,” the goblin announced, holding her stomach. “Just finish big sleep.”
“What’s the big sleep?” Mike asked.
“Between owners, the house has a way of hiding its denizens. I stay conscious the whole time, but the fear was that if a long enough period of time passed, some of the monsters would lose their shit and wander out into the world, lonely and looking for company. So they sleep, but I’m guessing that they are starting to wake up now that you are here.” Naia flipped her wet hair out of the way. “Tink, can I talk to Mike for a minute?”
Tink nodded. “I put away tools.” She quickly gathered the cleaning supplies and vanished into the garage.
“You fucked her, didn’t you?” Naia asked. Mike gulped. This was the fallout he was expecting.
“If I didn’t, she thought she had to leave. I couldn’t do that to her.” Mike explained.
“It was more than that,” Naia grinned, stroking Mike’s chin. “You fucked her, and you liked it.” Her hand found his cock through his shorts.
“Unexpectedly, yes. I did. It was weird, but kind of hot.”
“Goblin’s have weird ways of looking at marriage. As it is, you could order her to march into a fire, and she would do it because you are her husband. I’m telling you this so that you know how you should be treating her, despite her willingness to please you. Prove to me that you can handle this by treating her well, because it would break my heart to discover that you can’t.”
“What about us?” Mike asked.
“There will always be time for us. Goblins are polygamous. I could let you fuck me while she watched, and she would just be happy to be in the room.” Naia laughed. “Not that I would ever treat her that way. I think of her very much like a little sister. You should get her some food, and then have her take a bath. I promise you that you’ll find something underneath all that dirt and grime that you will like.” Naia winked.
“What will you be doing?” Mike asked.
“I’ll be out here, no worries. Take some time just the two of you.” Naia slid her hand across the bite mark on Mike’s shoulder. “She’s marked you, you know? Now that she’s tasted your blood, she can find you anywhere.”
“Goblin bites aren’t poisonous, right?” Mike lowered his voice in case Tink came back.
“You would know by now if they were,” she whispered back, giving him a kiss on the nose. Tink emerged from the garage, her hands now empty.
“I’m going to fix us some lunch,” Mike announced, and Tink was immediately by his side. “And then I’m going to wash up. Care to join me?”
“Tink come too.” Mike held the door for her and she pinched his ass as she walked by. Mike turned to Naia, but the nymph was already floating on her back, staring up into the clouds.
Mike took Tink inside, where he heated up what was left of the pizza for both of them to eat. She sat across from him, gobbling down the pizza in huge bites while he got on Amazon to order a few things. He was lucky in that he was in a city with Prime Now, and he made a few purchases that he thought would come in handy, staring at Tink the whole time. Now that they were inside, he realized just how bad she smelled, but didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
Tink followed him upstairs, where the bath had already filled itself with hot water. Mike smiled at the silver brush that had been left on the rim of the tub by the soap and shampoo. Tink stripped off her shirt, and Mike helped her into the bath.
It started innocent enough-Mike stripped off his bandages and joined her, and the two of them took turns cleaning each other. Mike used a rag to wash the dirt and grime off of Tink, discovering that her dark green skin was actually the bright green of a healthy lawn. He scrubbed her back, marveling at the prominent ridges along her spine, making him think of her as a tiny dragon instead.
“Tink’s turn.” Tink gently washed his around his wounds, taking particular care near the bite mark on his shoulder, which was now just a series of small scabs. She scrubbed him slowly
Her hair was the worst. Mike had Tink dunk her head, dirt and grime turning the water brown. He drained the tub and refilled it twice, helping her shampoo her long, dirty strands of hair. Once her hair was clean, he discovered that her hair was a dark auburn, with alternating streaks of red and brown throughout. While he had been willing to fuck her in the dark, the emerald creature in his tub was looking more and more feminine with every layer of dirt they scrubbed off.
Tink sat in front of him, her head and shoulders above the water. Mike realized that her back was now clean, but he was having a tough time taking his hands off of her. Tink sighed, scooting back against him, her fingers lightly tracing shapes on his thighs. Mike slid his hands across the top of her shoulders, then down across her chest. His fingers squeezed her breasts as one of her hands circled his cock.
He pulled Tink up onto one leg, using it as a booster seat. With her wet hair pulled to one side, she reminded him of that green girl from Guardians of the Galaxy, albeit much smaller. She growled affectionately at him, and he slid his hand down her thigh and into the dark patch of hair between her legs.
“No biting this time,” he warned her, tracing circles around her crotch.
“No bites,” Tink promised, her pink tongue circling her thin lips. She ran her tongue up the side of his neck, tickling a

Home for Horny Monsters: A Banshee on the Porch! -

Mon, 01 Aug 2022 11:30:31 -0500

Home for Horny Monsters: A Banshee on the Porch! -
Haunted victorian house has more erotic surprises (part 2)
By writerannabelle. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
“Get in the bath with me,” Naia purred. “I can help you relax.”
“You still haven’t told me what you get from the link.”
“Your protection.” She leaned back, her breasts bobbing on the surface. “This home needs a guardian, a human who won’t expose our secret to the world, one who will care for us until his dying day. When I read your spirit, I knew that you could be the one who protect us.”
“Us?” He peeked out into the bedroom. “There are other nymphs?”
Naia shook her head. “I’m referring to the house itself. Emily was the last guardian of this place, and it holds many secrets. If this house should fall into the wrong hands…” Naia shivered, though the water was warm. “I’m afraid I can’t be of much help in discovering them, as I am unable to leave this room. That, and I can’t actually tell you.”
“Why not?”
“It’s the house.” She frowned. “Powerful magic, a Geas. When Emily died, the house’s protective magic kicked in. It’s like being unable to remember someone’s name, even though you are looking right at them. There is something important that I want to tell you, but it floats away from me when I try to focus on it. I’m afraid it will be that way until you can figure out for yourself the real purpose of this house.”
“Secrets, huh?” Mike thought back to his college days, low-key hacking into servers just to see what was there. “Sounds like a challenge.”
“I wish I could help, I really do.” Naia frowned. “I have huge gaps in my memory, but the main thing I remember is Emily.”
“You knew my Great Aunt well?”
“She was a good friend. I know you picture her in your mind as some old woman traipsing through the house, but she never looked a day over twenty seven. Not until the day she died, anyway. The magic preserves beauty, but doesn’t prolong death.”
“Interesting.” Mike stroked his chin. “So, I’m going to be young forever.”
“On the outside.” Naia smiled. “And I think I can make your stay worth it.”
“I’m going to be honest. I’m not really good with women.” Mike stared at her naked body, his cock twitching once more. His body and brain were disconnected, his body suddenly ready but his mind hesitant. His mother’s voice was distant, but it was still there.
“I saw that.” Naia trailed a finger down between her breasts. “A lot of pain in your past, something holding you back. You’ll find that our new bond will alleviate that somewhat.”
“What, are you my therapist now?”
“Even better.” Mike hadn’t realized how close he had come to the water. Naia slid her finger into the waistband of his pants, pulling him close. “My magic has created a special bond between us, one that enhances trust, allowing you to momentarily forget.” Tugging the band of his pants down, his cock sprung free, pointing directly at her mouth. “I can teach you to overcome your pain, if you will let me.” She stroked his cock lovingly, her fingers magically warm and wet. She gazed up into his eyes, adoration on her face. “Please let me do this, Mike. Please.”
“I…” Mike stared at the woman in his tub, the one who radiated warmth and safety. For the first time he could remember, he had become lost in the moment, the slight heat of her breath teasing the head of his swollen dick. Gone were any thoughts of his childhood, the house, or what had happened earlier. Her eyes were shimmering pools, glowing with an inner light of their own.
“C'mon Mike. Let’s do it right this time.” She continued stroking. “With your permission.”
Mike was breathing hard, his fingers stroking lightly at her hair. She broke eye contact, staring hungrily at his cock. She was panting now, and his cock tingled with every stroke.
“Please,” Mike begged her. “Please.” He couldn’t put the feeling into words, but he needed her.
She leaned forward, sucking him in gently, her teeth just barely sliding across his foreskin. He shivered as she took him all the way to the root, one hand stroking his balls while the other slid around his hips. She sucked on him for several seconds, and he moaned softly, unsure what to do. She broke away, a trail of spit connecting her mouth to his dick.
“Get in.” Her voice was husky, her hands pulling down his pants. He helped, pushing them to the floor as she caressed his balls, rolling them gently between her fingers. He stepped into the bath, her mouth finding his dick again. She grabbed him by the hips, moaning quietly as he thrust into her mouth. Already, his body felt light, his muscles relaxing as the magic took hold of him. He popped free from her full lips, and she reached up for him as he knelt down, their lips finding each other. He ran fingers through her blue hair, tracing the line of her jaw. She clutched his shoulders, breaking free of his kiss to suck at his collarbone.
“Everything feels like electricity,” he told her, meaning every word. His skin was practically tingling, her touch igniting tiny sparks between them in the warm of the bath.
“Part of that is my magic,” she whispered in his ear, her breath hot. “The rest of it is me.”
His hand moved down her belly, parting the thick folds of her pussy. She was impossibly tight. He worked her cunt this way for a few minutes, rubbing at her clit with his thumb. After a minute of this, he realized that something felt odd. Pushing back from her, he stared down.
“Is that a piercing?” He asked. In between her labia was a shiny sphere.
“That’s my clit,” she giggled. She stood, sitting on the edge of the tub and spreading her legs. Pulling back her folds, he saw that her clit strongly resembled a pink pearl. He ran his finger across the top of it, causing her to gasp. It was smooth, yet hard.
“Is it always like this?”
“Only when I’m this turned on.” She said, smiling. “It’s called a Nymph’s Pearl.”
“God damn.” He moved closer, taking in her scent. The aroma made his head swim. “May I?”
“You’re such a gentleman.” Grabbing the back of his head, she pulled him in. He opened his mouth, gently sucking in her Nymph’s Pearl, moving it around with his tongue as he slid two fingers in her pussy. Naia gasped, digging her fingers into the back of his head as he rolled her Pearl around in circles. Moaning, she wrapped her legs around his head, squeezing him tight.
From his position between her legs, her scream of delight sounded like distant thunder. He switched from two fingers to three, her eager pussy gobbling up the extra digit with no effort. He pulled his fingers free, lapping at her inner folds with his tongue, marveling at the salty-sweet taste of a nymph’s vagina. Hands clutched at his neck, her legs trembling uncontrollably as he drove her to the edge.
Sucking the Pearl back into his mouth, he slid his fingers back into her, curling them upward.
She screamed again, soaking his face with her cum. Three rapid bursts of fluid coated him completely. Startled, he pulled away, wiping his eyes clear. It had the same taste that she did, with just a hint of spice. Naia, reclined on the edge of the tub, was gasping for air, her body suddenly limp.
“I’ve… I’ve never seen that before,” Mike told her. His cock was absolutely throbbing.
Naia’s eyes glowed from within, the water in the bath suddenly becoming steam. Rolling over, she lifted her ass into the air, clutching the rim of the tub.
“Fuck me, Mike,” she hissed, the water’s surface becoming choppy. He wrapped his hands around her hips, staring down at the juicy curves of her ass. Oddly, her prominent pussy was missing its neighbor, the long curve of her labia stretching farther back to where her asshole should have been.
Sensing his pause, Naia looked over her shoulder. “Nymph’s don’t need assholes. Now hurry up and fuck what’s in front of- Oh God!” Mike, wasting no pretense, shoved himself inside her awaiting hole. Her body lurched forward as he pounded her from behind, giving no thought to her pleasure at all. Somehow, this didn’t seem to matter to Naia. She panted like a dog, her raspy breath echoing off the tiles of the bathroom.
“Holy shit,” Mike shouted, desperately shoving his dick inside. His newfound sensitivity was driving him wild, and he clawed at Naia’s ass cheeks, his excitement building. The water around them bubbled with energy, tiny water spheres taking flight and hovering in the air.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” When Mike came, his vision turned black around the edges, the world briefly losing focus, his back arching as he filled Naia with hot sperm. She let out her own shriek, pushing back against him as her back spasmed, ripples traveling down her spine and legs as she shook uncontrollably.
“Oh Mike,” Naia moaned, going limp beneath his hands. She sank into the water, and Mike joined her, the two of them easily floating side by side.
“Naia.” Mike was officially spent. He ran his fingers through her hair, sighing to himself as her fingers traced circles on his chest. “That was absolutely magical.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” Naia kissed him on the neck. “Consider it a down payment.”
“For what?” He asked.
“For taking care of me. This place.” Naia’s face was suddenly serious. “If you choose to stay, you will find out that there’s a lot more to do than just live out our days fucking. There are some really bad people out there, people willing to do anything to get their hands on this place.”
“Because of you?” He asked.
“The man who built this house didn’t just do it for me. He was a collector of magical items. These objects have tremendous power, and he hid them well. My job is to guard the house-because of the spring, I can never leave, so I was the best choice to be its guardian. Every time the house is passed to a new caretaker, I either make the pact like I have with you, or the new owner suffers an accident. Also…” Her face went blank for a second. “Damn. It’s that thing I want to tell you again. I just can’t remember, it’s so frustrating. Anyway, I can’t leave this room, or the fountain, once it’s repaired for that matter.” Naia stroked Mike’s stomach lovingly. “Please fix my fountain. I miss being outside.”
Mike stared at the canned lights in the ceiling. Magical artifacts? This night had taken a strange, impossible turn. “It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out where these magic artifacts are kept. The house is big, but it’s not that big.”
Naia smirked, kissing Mike on the lips. “You keep telling yourself that.” Yawning, Naia stretched. “I’m exhausted. You get some of that muck pulled from the fountain, and you and I can stay up all night if you like.”
“Consider it done.” He stayed with her for a while, but the water grew cold. Bidding her a good night, he watched as she vanished beneath the water’s surface, the cool liquid flowing down the bath drain. Drying himself off, he stretched out on the giant bed. Within moments, he was asleep.
The bed was probably a hundred years old. God alone knew how old the mattress was. Somehow, Mike awoke from easily the best night’s sleep in years. His body was in the same position it had been when he fell asleep. Yawning, he stepped down on the hard wood floors, his left ankle popping. Rubbing the back of his head, he strolled naked to the toilet to pee. He flushed the toilet, stepping out into the main bathroom. The tub was still there, glistening in the light of the morning sun.
“Naia?” his voice quivered, slightly. The events of last night were fresh in his mind, and he wondered how much he would crack if he discovered that it had all been a dream.
“I’m still here.” Her voice echoed from inside the tub. “I’m always here. Now go get some work done. You and I can play later.”
Mike laughed, leaving the room behind. Breakfast was last night’s pizza, quickly reheated, and some soda. Mike quickly threw together a grocery list, food he would need for the week ahead. He stepped out the back door, staring at the poorly kept yard. The house itself was built near the top of the hill, and Mike realized that the back yard’s high stone walls ensured privacy. A wrought iron gate at the back of the yard led out into the woods behind the home, but someone had strung a chain across the bars, a giant padlock holding it in place.
The fountain was in sad shape. No water could be seen in its giant basin, which was now full of silt and dead leaves. Mike sat on the side of the fountain, looking at his laptop. A quick Google search yielded several ways he could begin to restore it, but he was either going to have to look for tools or buy them.
“Fuck it,” he muttered, adding the tools to his shopping cart. He didn’t feel like spending hours looking through the house trying to find what he needed, and the local home improvement store had a service counter pickup option, which would get him home and back that much faster. Closing his laptop, he stood up to go back inside.
“Jesus fuck!” He nearly dropped his laptop. A stone figure tucked away in an alcove by the back door had startled him. Moving in for a closer look, he saw that it appeared to be a statue of a woman, but other than an ample bust, few details could actually be seen. Covered in creeper vines, he pushed a few of them aside to try and see it better. Failing, he made a mental note to pick up some garden sheers. Kneeling down by her feet, he expected to see a plaque on the pedestal she stood on, but it was blank.
“Damn near gave me a heart attack,” he muttered, walking in through the back door. He set his laptop on the kitchen table, listening to the sounds of the house around him. Nothing but silence.
His rental car, a green Kia, was still on the curb where he had left it. Leaves had tumbled down from the trees along the street, creating a blanket for it. Pulling away, they spun in circles behind him, creating little leaf tornados in his rear view mirror.
Pickup at Mel’s, the home improvement store, was super quick. Mike grabbed an extra pair of work gloves and some garden shears on the way out. Stopping at the grocery store, he picked up some basics, including coffee and a new coffee maker. He had seen one in the kitchen, but didn’t trust it to actually work.
He arrived back at the house, gathering up all of his bags in an attempt to make only one trip. Walking precariously between the stone lions, he made it to the front door, setting the bags down to get his key out of his pocket. The deadbolt clicked open, and he pocketed the key, kneeling down to grab his bags.
The porch swing creaked. Mike stared, the gears of his mind turning. He thought he had disconnected the swing last night. Yet there it was, swaying in a non-existent breeze. He walked over, unhooking the swing and lowering it to the porch.
Shaking his head, he walked inside, putting it from his mind. He stacked his groceries up on the counter and tossed the bag of supplies on the kitchen table. Stocking the fridge, he began organizing the tools from the store. A few scrub brushes, a trowel, and a drain snake were pulled from the bucket he had purchased, as well as a screwdriver.
A knock at the door was followed by the sound of the bell. Mike walked back down the long hall, a shadowy figure visible through the frosted glass of the front door. He opened the door to reveal Beth, his Great Aunt’s estate representative, standing on the other side. She was holding a stack of files, but that wasn’t what Mike noticed. Her dark hair still in a bun, she was wearing a bright red blouse, the top buttons straining to hold it shut, with a knee length white skirt.
“Mr. Radley,” she greeted him, a warm smile on her face. “I thought I would drop by and bring you some paperwork. There are several things the firm needs you to look over before we can finalize a transfer of assets. May I come in?”
“Um, yeah. Certainly.” He stepped back, and she stepped past him, the smell of soap and lavender following her in. He shuddered internally, this human woman somehow ten times more daunting than the mystical creature upstairs. “Here, this way.” He led her to the kitchen, where she set down the pile of documents.
“It looks like you’re getting ready to tackle a project,” Beth said, picking up the trowel. “Hopefully nothing the Historical Society would disapprove of.”
“Just cleaning some gunk out of the fountain,” he told her. “Hoping to see it running soon.”
“Those don’t sound like the words of a man who is still debating keeping the place.”
“You’re correct. I’ve decided to stay.”
“In that case,” Beth slid one of the folders out, checking its contents. “This was an offer from that group of women I told you about. They call the firm almost every day, they’re absolutely in love with this place.”
“I hate to disappoint them, but the place is growing on me already.” Mike smiled, thinking of Naia. “Not sure why, but I feel like this is where I was meant to be.”
“I’m very happy for you Mike.” Her smile was genuine, crinkling the skin next to her eyes. “I know what you mean. I’ve been over here several times to make sure the place is being cared for properly by our interim team, and admit I’m a little sad that I won’t get to see it much longer.”
“Nonsense.” Mike waved a hand dismissively. “You’re welcome over here anytime. Besides, you’re the only person I even know in this town. My job doesn’t offer many opportunities to meet new people, so I’m afraid you are my entire social group.”
“I may just take you up on that.” Beth sat at the table. “I’ve been a bit obsessed with this place since I was a little girl. I was convinced a fairy queen lived here, probably until I was thirteen. I used to ride my bike past every day, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Turns out that it must have been someone who worked for your great aunt, a young woman who I sometimes caught working in the garden. She had this brilliant radiance around her, almost like she was stuck in an old Disney movie. I half expected birds to circle around her as she broke into song or something. I won’t lie, I tried to figure out who she was once your aunt passed, but there weren’t any records.” She chuckled, stroking the files with a finger. This action pressed her breasts together, causing a tiny gap to form between the buttons of her blouse. Mike stared into that dark space, wondering what color her bra was. “It’s silly, I know, but I can’t help but love this place just a little.”
“I’ve only been here one night. Trust me, I know what you’re talking about.” Snapping his eyes away from her chest, Mike leaned forward, opening the top file. “Ugh. This looks like a bunch of legalese.”
“In triplicate. These are some additional assets, plus some agreements I need you to sign since you are taking ownership of the home. Per the will, there are a few protective clauses, primarily stating that you can never bulldoze the home and start from scratch. This was per your Great Aunt’s wishes, but I’m guessing that isn’t a problem.”
“You would be correct.” Mike slid open a drawer looking for a pen, but Beth had one ready.
“You can have an attorney read these over first. I prefer that you would, actually. There isn’t any hurry-now that we have an heir, the clock sort of resets for a bit.” She set the pen on the table. “However, I am just on delivery duty today. I need to get in to the office to begin processing some additional documents. Today is Tuesday. I would be happy to drop by on Friday to pick these up, if you have them done. Otherwise, I can just drop by to make certain you are getting settled. That is part of the provisions as well.”
“Um, yeah. Sure. Thank you.” Mike followed her outside. He walked behind her, watching the gentle sway of her ass until they arrived at her car, a cute little convertible he didn’t recognize. Beth gave him a wave and a smile before driving away. He walked back up the walk, stopping to pat one of the lion’s paws for luck. In his mind, he was planning to take the bucket straight out back and see what he could do about that pesky fountain.
He was up the stairs, his hand on the door when he heard the swing next to him squeak. Turning his head, he saw her sitting there, kicking her legs gently as she stared across the front yard, her eyes distant.
“Hey.” Mike said, moving to get a better view of her. Her skin was unnaturally pale, her hair white. She was wearing a simple white

Home for Horny Monsters: The Nymph in the Tub! -

Sun, 31 Jul 2022 11:30:54 -0500

Home for Horny Monsters: The Nymph in the Tub! -
Mike, a young bachelor; inherits an old house from a spinster great aunt. (part 1)
By writerannabelle. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Mike stared at the Victorian style home in awe, the sheer scale of it overwhelming him. Tower-like structures gave the blue dwelling a medieval touch, and the house was ringed in simple gardens with waist high shrubs that were in desperate need of a trim. Stone lions guarded the walk to the front door, and a cobblestone path disappeared around the back.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” Mike, startled, dropped his sleeping bag. He bent down to pick it up, feeling warmth rise up in his cheeks. “I’m afraid you have quite a task ahead of you, Mr. Radley.”
Mike let out a nervous laugh as Beth, his great aunt’s estate representative, walked past. The woman was taller than him, very attractive, and all business. Her dark hair wrapped up in a bun, she paused to check something on her clipboard. Mike took the opportunity to admire her backside through the thin layer of her pencil skirt. Very faint panty lines ran around her buttocks, lines that Mike had trouble taking his eyes away from. She turned to face him, and he pretended to struggle with his sleeping bag.
“I doubt you’ll need that,” she pointed out, lending him a hand. She smelled like peaches and something floral, a scent he couldn’t quite place. “The house has plenty of space.”
“I’ve been a boy scout since I was six,” he replied. “Be prepared. That’s my motto.”
“Uh huh.” Beth helped him secure the bag under his arm. “Trust me when I say you won’t need it.” She led him up the stairs, the wooden deck creaking slightly under their weight. Mike stared briefly at the swinging chair on the front porch, moving slightly in the breeze. As Beth produced a key, she looked at Mike. “This must be like a fairy tale to you.”
“No such thing as fairy tales. Just a weird coincidence.” He said, careful to keep his eyes above the lacy top of her blouse. Women, as a rule, made him nervous. Particularly the pretty ones.
“You hear about these things all the time,” she said, sliding the key into the lock. “But you never get to see them play out.” The door stuck in the frame, and Beth leaned her shoulder in to give it a shove. A strand of hair came loose from her bun as she pushed her way inside. “A long-lost relative dying and leaving everything to you.”
“Yeah. Lucky me.” Mike followed her inside. The house was cool, and dark. Beth opened up some of the windows, allowing the light to come in. The furniture in the home was all covered, giving the sitting room the eerie appearance of a haunted house. Beth pulled the cover off of the couch, sending a small layer of dust into the air.
“You don’t seem very keen on the idea, Mr. Radley.” Beth uncovered the coffee table with one hand, and set her purse and clipboard down. “It is a very nice house.”
“It’s not the house. And call me Mike.” Mike threw his sleeping bag on a clean portion of the floor along with his backpack. Out of habit, he slipped off his shoes at the door.
“Well, Mike, we went through an awful lot of trouble tracking you down.” Beth uncovered a nearby love seat. “This home was only weeks away from being liquidated by the firm.”
“Which I understand is still an option?” Mike asked, staring at the pale yellow curtains.
“Correct.” Beth picked up her clipboard. “Only if you decide not to keep it.”
“Right.” Mike looked down the long hallway to the kitchen. “I’m not used to having so much space. Gives me the creeps.”
“By nature, homes of this style are actually quite cozy.” Beth led the way to the kitchen, the heels of her boots clicking on the hardwood floor. “There is quite a bit of space for you to spread out.”
“I’ve never lived in anything with more than two bedrooms.” Mike responded, following the woman. Beth checked the appliances to make sure they still worked, and showed Mike where the fuse box was. A brief tour of the kitchen turned up several jars of preserved jellies, an old box of cat biscuits, and an empty tub of ice cream in the freezer.
“So, where is the cat?” Mike asked, shaking the box of biscuits.
“As far as we know, she didn’t have one. Your great aunt conscripted our services long before my parents were even out of high school, and rarely contacted the firm. According to our sources, she was largely a shut-in. It’s likely those treats are older than you or I.”
“As long as she wasn’t eating them,” Mike muttered, throwing the biscuits back in the cupboard.
“So, you’ve only lived in apartments?” Beth led Mike to the stairs. As she climbed, Mike paused to look in the living room. Sure enough, a creepy fucking porcelain doll sat right above the fireplace, legs draped over the mantle. He shivered and looked up the stairs. Enough of Beth’s legs were showing that he could see the top of her stockings. Jesus. He pulled hard on the railing, eager to catch up.
“Yeah. My mom was always unemployed, so we were always staying with friends.” Memories of being crammed away in the back of someone else’s home made him shudder. Long nights pressed up against his own mother as they shared a bed, the smell of alcohol oozing from her pores and stinging his eyes. Years of therapy might have helped him over the worst of it, but he still had nights where he woke up panicked, convinced that he was crammed in bed again with his mother.
“Sounds rough.” Beth said. She opened up a door, revealing a study. “This is the office. Everything in here was custom built out.”
“I don’t see a router.” Mike walked in, looking around the room. The shelves in the room were packed with poetry books and different inspirational pieces. Fake flowers adorned every free inch of desk space.
“Your great aunt didn’t have Internet.”
“Well, I will.” Mike frowned, looking out the window. He could see how overgrown the back yard had become. A large stone fountain full of muck had been overgrown with weeds. “I build websites for a living. If I decide to keep the place, I will need to get it installed.”
Beth was already making notes on her clipboard. “I will see what we can do. Just to remind you, this home is on the list of historical places, so we may experience some delays.”
Mike waved a hand dismissively, kneeling beneath the desk. “I have my ways. Just get me some sort of high speed line, I’ll do the rest.” He stuck his hands behind the desk, feeling for an outlet.
“Let me show you to the guest room,” Beth said, reminding him that she was still there. Mike smacked his head on the desk as he stood. He grinned sheepishly, rubbing the top of his head as he followed her back into the hall. Beth opened up another door, showing him a plain twin sized bed with a large pink comforter. Daisies were embroidered across the top.
“I have no words.” Mike said, staring at the guest bed.
“I don’t blame you.” Beth opened up the closet. “There are some spare linens, but they aren’t any better.”
“What use does a shut in have for a guest room?” Mike inspected the closet. In the bottom, he saw another porcelain doll.
“My best guess is that it was a room your father stayed in as a child.”
“You think?” Mike held up one end of the pink comforter.
Beth laughed. “I never said it was a good idea. Your dad had some cousins, and most were little girls once.”
“I’m sure.” Mike stared at the bed, his thoughts drifting. Was it actually possible that his own father had slept beneath this roof? The man had died not long after Mike was born, lost to an aggressive form of cancer. It was the same disease that had led his own mother to drink. Thinking of his mother, he looked at the tiny bed and shivered. No fucking way. He needed a larger bed.
“Where did Great Aunt Mabel sleep?” he asked.
“In her room, down the hall.” Beth paused. “She died in there.”
“In the bed?” Mike was already wondering where he could unroll his sleeping bag.
“No, if that’s what you are worried about.” Beth took him back into the hall. Mike found himself staring again at her butt. His eyes flicked up to hers as she looked back. “It’s this one right here.”
Beth opened up the door. The room was large, the ceiling elevated. Mike realized he was in one of the round, tower rooms he had seen from the front. The bed was centered along the back wall, a large four poster with draping curtains all around. His eyes followed the curve of the walls, taking in the intricate molding along the mid wall and ceiling. Two dressers, a standing armoire, and a mirrored nightstand were all uncovered by Beth as she made her rounds. A large opening signaled the entrance to the bathroom. Towards the other side of the room, a large oriental rug covered the floor.
“The rug is in an odd place,” Mike said, pointing at it.
“It was some time before we found your aunt,” Beth replied. “We’re working on finding proper replacement material. It isn’t easy to find hundred year old hardwood flooring that matches the surrounding floor.”
“Why not replace it all?”
“Historical society, remember?”
“Ah.” Mike stared at the bed. It was easily a king size. “Her heart gave out?”
“She was 96. It happens.” Beth looked at her clipboard. “I made myself a few notes. I just need a signature to authorize some purchases.”
“Of course.” Mike ignored Beth for the moment as he walked in the bathroom. “Holy shit, have you seen this thing?”
Beth laughed behind him. “I have. Impressive, isn’t it?”
Mike stared at the largest, claw-footed bath tub he had ever seen. Looking at Beth with large eyes, he hopped inside it, laying down along the bottom. Neither his head or feet touched the edges, and he reached his arms out. They were almost fully extended before touching the sides.
“I will admit, your Great Aunt’s taste in decor is questionable in areas, but this is probably my favorite piece here.” Beth sat along the side of the bath, staring in at Mike. Mike sat up, looking over the side of the tub. The edge was to his chin.
“I feel like I’m sitting in a boat.” Mike turned his attention to the spigot. Two separate faucets made of some sort of bronze fed the tub. “Does it still work?”
“I assume so. We had the home inspected in case we were selling it.” Beth stroked one of the spigots. “I wish I could try it out.”
“Hop in. Plenty of room.” The words were out of his mouth before his brain could stop them. He looked away, pretending to fiddle with the faucets.
Beth laughed. “Afraid I’m too busy at the moment.” Extending a hand, she helped Mike stand. He had to lift his legs high to step out of the basin. “Maybe I can house sit sometime.”
“I’ll leave you some bath beads.” Mike stepped back to admire the tub. “I’ve never been a fan of baths, but this may be big enough to change my mind.”
Taking a wide berth around the carpet in the bedroom, Mike followed Beth through the remaining rooms of the house. Beth made several notes on her clipboard, noting necessary adjustments. Mike’s Great Aunt had left behind a very large sum of money, and her will stipulated that her oldest surviving relative be given full opportunity to make the house livable before selling it. Mike was well aware that one offer to buy was on the table already, a group of women who wanted to turn the place into a local museum. He had never been able to set roots down, rarely living anywhere longer than six months.
Beth stood at the front door, going over her checklist. Mike stared out the front window, watching the swinging chair rock in place. She had said his name twice before he snapped back to reality.
“Sorry, lost in thought,” he apologized. “What did you say?”
“I said I can swing by tomorrow to take you shopping. Your Great Aunt had a car, but I wouldn’t recommend going anywhere in it. You’re going to need to get some essentials if you’re going to make this place a home.” Beth let the clipboard relax. “Which I hope you do. It was her utmost wish that the home stay in the family. I know you have already voiced some concerns over maintaining the property, but I really think you should give this place a shot.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Mike gave her a small smile. “This is a unique opportunity after all.”
“Good. You have my business card, so don’t hesitate to contact me for anything.” Beth picked up her purse from the coffee table.
“Actually, there is something.” Beth waited patiently as Mike walked over to the fireplace, removing the porcelain doll. “I don’t care how, just get rid of it.”
Beth stared at the doll and laughed. “I’m on it. Have a good night, Mike.” She walked out the door and down the steps. Mike watched her as she went, the clicking of her heels on pavement echoing across the deck. He waved as she got in her car on the street and drove away.
The swinging chair creaked softly. Mike stepped onto the deck, staring at the offending piece of furniture. He unhinged the chains, lowering the seat to the deck. He let the front door shut softly behind him.
-
Night crept up on Mike as he whittled away his evening on his laptop. Using his neighbor’s unprotected Wi-Fi, he checked on several sites he had been maintaining, answered some of his emails, and opened up his bank statements. None of the money his Great Aunt left him had been transferred in yet, but he pictured the new amount in place of his current one and wondered.
What would he even do with all that cash? If he were to sell the home, he would be walking around with several million and nothing to spend it on. He had been poor as a child, poor enough that by the time he worked his way through college, he was simply used to the survivor’s lifestyle. All the clothes he owned would easily fit in two suitcases, and the bulk of his belongings were made up of a couple of desktop PC’s and a tablet at his apartment.
He finally noticed the time near the bottom of his screen and shut down shop for the night. It was nearing eleven, and he still hadn’t even eaten dinner. A quick search on his phone revealed a nearby pizza place, and he ordered himself a medium sausage with a 2 liter of Sprite. He wandered the lonely rooms, eventually tossing his bag in his Great Aunt’s bedroom. He drifted through the house, picking up random belongings, trying to envision the woman his Great Aunt was.
He had looked her up on line. She had inherited the house from her own aunt (a notorious spinster) at a young age, living off of several very own railroad bonds that had paid off big in the 1940’s. A job as a librarian supplemented her income through her fifties, and then she had simply shut herself away.
Not completely, though. Mike noted that some of the purchases in the home must have been made in the last couple of years. A few of the books in the library had tipped him off. She must have left on rare occasions, or at least hired somebody to shop for her. To be honest, the thought was pretty appealing to him.
The doorbell startled him out of his reverie, and he nearly dropped a clown figurine he had pulled from the shelf in front of him. He put it back and walked to the front door.
“Hi!” The pizza delivery man was, in fact, a gorgeous blonde girl, likely a college student. Her hair had been swooped back into a ponytail, and she was wearing a stylish pair of black rim glasses. The name-tag on her jacket said Dana. “Your house is gorgeous!” She handed him his soda.
“Uh, yeah.” He leaned forward to help her take the food from its special cooler, and accidentally brushed against her breast through her jacket with his hand.
“I don’t think I’ve ever delivered here before,” she added, staring past him into the home. “Are you new in town?”
“First day.” He handed her a pair of tens. As she dug into her pouch for change, he caught just a whiff of her perfume. His world started closing in. “No worries, keep it?”
“Seriously?” Her eyes were huge as he nodded.
“Yeah, no problem.” He let the door close as she thanked him. Placing the pizza on the coffee table, he took a few deep breaths. The sensation of her breast against the back of his hand, the sheer firmness of it, accompanied by the scent of her perfume had given him a surprisingly hard erection.
He ran through the house, flipping on all of the lights. His mother’s voice attempted to rise up in the back of his mind, but he shut it out. Years of sharing a bed with her had inevitably led to an incident, shortly before his eleventh birthday, when he had awaken suddenly to a slap in the face. In his sleep, he had managed to roll into his own mother while sprouting wood.
The physical abuse was immediate, but the verbal abuse continued. Whenever he got aroused in his sleep, his mother would slap him awake, or call others in to make fun of him. Often, this led to a sudden change in address, as most normal people recognized her behavior as appalling. Her constant teasing in front of anyone who would listen had led him to a largely celibate lifestyle. The few women he had been with had been unsympathetic to his sexual panic attacks, or his mommy issues, as one had called them. Now, in an unfamiliar setting, he found those old emotions resurfacing, attempting to claw away at the protective shell he had put around himself.
His imagination was his own worst enemy. Picturing her specter hiding in the shadows, waiting to pass judgment, had simply clenched the deal. Now, though, with all of the lights on, she couldn’t afford to surface. His panic attack subsiding, he picked up his food and made his way to the kitchen.
Mike consumed his meal while streaming a movie on his computer, leaving the last five slices for tomorrow. The fridge looked painfully bare, occupied by a sole pizza box and a soda bottle. Mike returned to the table, watching for another half an hour as the generic action star did something to confound the villain. His mind kept flipping back and forth to the feel of the pizza girl’s breast and his mother’s demonic memory.
He pulled out his phone and flipped down to Dr. Gorman in his contacts. He hadn’t sat with his therapist in over three years, but the urge to reach out had surfaced. Hands shaking, his thumb hovered over the call button.
“Fuck it.” He closed his contact list. His mother was dead, the past was the past, and he needed to get over it. Years of being told that arousal was natural, that everybody did it, that it was okay to fantasize. He closed his eyes, recalling the cute appearance of Dana the pizza girl. He unleashed the memory of her scent, the firmness of her breast, the surprised expression she had made when he had tipped her eight bucks extra. It was probably the same face she made during her first orgasm, or perhaps when her lover’s lips first touched the nipples of her firm breast…
That did it. His body was back in full swing, he was back in control. Well, almost. The urge to watch porn to help get off was strong, but Dr. Gorman had reminded him that porn could be too much of an escapist fantasy. It was better for him to visualize on his own; he was less likely to panic in bed with a real woman. However, porn wasn’t so much the issue, but rather location.
He was in a stranger’s house with a major hard on. Technically, he could jerk off in the hallway for all anybody cared, but just because the house was now his didn’t mean it was home. It definitely didn’t feel safe.
Mike closed his computer and proceeded up to the bedroom. He could take care of his own needs in there. That wasn’t much different than a hotel room, or new apartment, really. The more he told himself these things, the more he was ready to get off. Stepping into the room, he took one look at the bed and shuddered. Beds were sometimes just as bad, and today was no different.
“Why am I so fucking damaged?” He shouted to the walls. They had no answer for him. Instead, he stormed into the bathroom and turned on the sink, splashing cool water on his face. Staring in the mirror, he watched the cool drops fall down his cheeks, his eyes suddenly on the giant bathtub.
The bathroom’s contoured walls prevented anyone in the tub from seeing anything but the bathroom. Remembering how well he fit in it earlier, and seeing how isolated it was, he knew it would work.
Turning on the water, he watched as the basin filled quite quickly. Obviously, his great aunt had found a way to trick out the water pressure. Beth had told him that t

Training the Trophy

Sat, 30 Jul 2022 11:30:43 -0500

Training the Trophy
by Sustainer. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Part 1, Finding the Ultimate Trophy Wife.
No matter what they may admit to, every man desires to have an obedient, submissive, beautiful trophy wife. Conversely, every woman secretly desires to be a perfect, subservient possession who is adored and cared for, objectified and kept captive while provided firm direction and absolved of all guilt surrounding sexual latitude- since her sexual conduct is no longer her choice, but rather, her solemn and sacred marriage duty. Every man wants this. Every woman secretly longs for this.
Through luck and industry, I have become a wealthy man. This alone is infinitely attractive to women. No matter what they may claim or espouse, how much they assert their feminism or independence, a woman desires a wealthy man to provide for them and offer financial security. Other than my wealth, and my sexual appetite, I am an utterly unremarkable man. Some women, more than you may imagine, are willing to exchange their full sexual servitude in for financial security and social status. My wife is such a woman.
I found her in a gentleman’s club. An upscale topless club where young women danced on stage in lingerie and revealing costumes, performing exotic dance routines for assembled clients while revealing their breasts and stripping to a G-string. Following their performance, the young girls would circulate among the patrons, making small talk and soliciting private lap dances in a more private setting in the back rooms of the club for large tips.
This was the perfect resource to find what I was looking for. Firstly, it acted as a kind of living catalog. Without the absurd constraints and antiquated conventions of “dating”, I could quickly review a large number of potential trophy wives before beginning the indoctrination into my marriage and trophy wife training and optimization program.
I am a businessman, and as such, I admire efficiency and a well-run process. In advance of my trophy wife assessment and selection I consulted with a friend who is a marriage counselor and a behavioral psychologist. He holds a Ph.D. in training psychology. After describing my objectives to him in obtaining the ideal trophy wife, he and I worked together closely under contract for months to create an optimal, scientifically configured, trophy wife selection, indoctrination and training program. This included an ongoing maintenance and administration routine for my eventual trophy wife. Once our perfect trophy wife curriculum was developed, I simply went to various upscale gentleman’s clubs to locate the very best trophy wife to my specific tastes and purposes.
She must have brown hair and brown eyes. Round cheeks and a full face with a round nose. Preferably European in heritage.
While her figure must fall within very specific parameters for hip measurement, leg length, buttocks shape, overall height and weight, her breast size and shape are not critical at intake since modern breast augmentation surgery means that any girl can have any breasts.
Perfect breasts exactly to my liking would be an add-on at a specific phase of the acquisition and indoctrination process. In fact, consultation with the cosmetic surgeon who was already contracted to perform my prospective trophy wife’s optimization had given me specific guidelines to look for in shopping for the right candidate. It was best to start with a young girl, 18-20, who was a 32 or 34 B cup bra size. This would be the perfect platform for creating a large, firm, high-breasted girl who would be a tailor-made 32-34DD cup after upgrade. After her work was completed, she would have large, firm, high breasts with dark, upturned nipples atop big areolae that puffed out from her tits in a constant state of erection and apparent arousal.
Her hips should be full, her buttocks round, firm and elevated, her waist trim and narrow, tapering down from her curvy, reproductive hips. Her legs should be moderately long with adequately full, not too-skinny calves and healthy, firm thighs since stockings are a particular fetish of mine, among many others. The perfect selection would be free of tattoos and, in the best of worlds, have nipples that were already large and dark in color, symmetrical and outsized to her breast size so they would scale up nicely to her new, much larger breasts. Puffy nipples are the most desirable, but if all other pre-existing physical factors are excellent, my cosmetic surgeon told me about a procedure whereby nipples and areolae could be enlarged, darkened and made to protrude more to my liking. I personally inspected a young girl he had performed the puffy-nipple enhancement procedure on, and the results were remarkable.
Once my selection criteria, recruiting and indoctrination processes were finalized, I went out looking.
After several enjoyable weeks of shopping at local gentleman’s clubs there was an epiphany. A young girl, 5'3" tall, long, brown hair, enormous brown eyes, swaying hips, round buttocks and the most beautiful face and button nose I had ever seen, sat in my lap and asked if I wanted a dance. It was impossible to refuse. I suspected immediately that I had found my quarry.
She danced for me as I reclined in a lounge chair in a private room, swaying in the shadowy light to soft music, then straddling my lap, stripping off her sheer, lacy bra, grabbing my hands and placing them directly on her breasts. Then she began to gyrate on my swelling erection, clad only in a little, shiny black thong panty. She leaned forward, pressing her tits to me, and whispered in my ear, “Back here you can do almost anything you want. $100 a song Sir.”
I felt her natural tits, and they were quite nice, likely a large “B” or “C” cup. An excellent starting point. Her hips were full and girlish, her buttocks spectacular and round, the skin smooth and even in tone from what I could see in this light. Her lips were large and I felt them on my neck when I leaned forward. Somewhat unusual for an exotic dancer to kiss a client on the neck. Her arms and legs were beautiful, her overall figure full and round. And that hair, my God, that beautiful mane of cascading, natural brown hair. Luxurious.
The gentle grinding of her thin thong panty crotch on my erect cock inside my pants had me soaked in precum. After three songs, I grabbed her firmly beneath the arms and moved her slightly away from me. She had a slightly surprised expression, then smiled, “Enough?” she asked.
“I have a proposition for you, young lady. Would you be willing to meet outside this club for dinner, for, perhaps, two or three hours? It would only be dinner and conversation, I assure you, in a public place. Nothing to risk. Everything to gain.”
She made an overly quizzical expression.
“Oh. A proposition? Ah. You know we aren’t supposed to be doing that.”
“Five thousand dollars for dinner young lady. And I buy your outfit for the night. No funny business. No sex. Nothing weird. You and I, dinner in a nice restaurant and a few hours of conversation. That’s all. No risk. All reward. What do you say?”
“Um. Sounds nice. Possibly. Maybe…” She cooed. She circled her thong-covered hips one more time on my lap, pressing down on my hard cock inside my pants extra hard.
“You buy one more dance, and I’ll think about it. But I need to know your real name. I’m going to check you out online before I decide. In the meantime, are your pants still getting tighter… and wetter? I’m soaked. My panties are almost soaked through. I’m going to have to go back and change after I’m done with you.”
In Part 2, I make a unique proposal to the young lady
“I am looking for a wife who will perform any and all sex acts with proficiency and enthusiasm at my command. This includes sharing and group sex, bondage, exhibitionism, oral, vaginal and anal sex along with other activities such as performing and appearing in pornographic videos and photographs for public distribution. In return for this arrangement, my wife will live in opulence and receive a generous stipend, along with other material benefits. After a systematic and exhaustive search for the best candidate to be my obedient, entirely promiscuous wife, you are my choice young lady.”
This is what I would tell her tonight at dinner. In addition to a sumptuous dinner in a beautiful restaurant, this would be the offer on the table. It took some time, but the young girl I had found and selected agreed to my dinner invitation.
Knowing that we act how we dress, I had provided her wardrobe for the night: a simple but elegant, snug-fitting black dress with a low neckline, a Frederick’s of Hollywood Exxtreme Cleavage add-2 cup size push-up bra in black satin, a very small, sheer, black G-string panty, nude stay-up thigh-highs and delicate black, strappy, open-toe heels. There was also an elegant pearl necklace and earrings in the ensemble I provided to her. It was a simple outfit, but one that highly sexualized her in an elegant way. To complete her outfit, I included a crystal vial of Yves Saint Laurent Black Opium perfume, because no ensemble is complete without a treat for all of the senses- sight, touch, and smell. She received her wardrobe by courier two days before our dinner date.
Dinner would be at a friend of mine’s restaurant, a five-star place on the river downtown. I reserved the best table and paid the restaurant in advance to remove the two tables closest to us so we could speak candidly without being overheard.
My new little whore was a vision when she stepped out of her Uber. She had cleaned up incredibly well, and the young lady put obvious effort into her appearance for our dinner meeting tonight. That was a promising sign.
Her hair was in loose curls, cascading down her back in a bouncy mane of luxurious brunette. Her make-up was without flaw, understated and elegant. Her lipstick suggested a hint of drama, but was not too apparent. The pearls draped perfectly from her neck to her décolletage, and the little earrings added a well-coordinated finish to her beautiful presentation.
I judged her sizes well. Her firm breasts heaved at the top of the snug, plunging little black dress. The black, add 2-cup-size 34C push-up bra I sent her looked opulent under this dress. Her delicious young cleavage was swollen, soft, round and smooth, bulging up and out of her neckline. I’m sure that tiny, snug little black sheer thong panty was just barely there underneath her dress and above her nude thigh-highs. As a dancer, she was no-doubt waxed smooth down there. This, of course, would remain my ongoing requirement, one of many to come.
She looked absolutely magnificent. Better than I had hoped. She was beginning to seem even more like a fine candidate for a wife.
I held the door, she stepped through. I couldn’t help but notice her pretty little buttocks under the snug, little black dress. It was petite, high, protruding and firm. There was a noticeable sway to her alluring walk. Not a hint of panty line because of the little G-string I sent her. The satiny black fabric of the dress seemed to glide just slightly over her smooth, mostly nude skin underneath. She handled the high heels well for a young girl, no doubt a skill acquired in her profession. Good. Very promising.
The hostess directed us to my table. My little candidate had the poise to stand politely while I pulled her chair out for her to be seated. This was an excellent sign. It meant she was somehow refined. How a little 18-year old topless dancer learned this poise, I had no idea, but it boded well. We sat near the huge window overlooking the river. Best seat in the restaurant. Most private too.
“I hope you enjoy our dinner my dear, and our conversation. You are truly a vision tonight. You look magnificent. Everything fit well, I trust?”
“It did. Not sure how you figured out my sizes so well, but even the shoes, and the other things… They all fit perfectly. Thank you. Ah, do I get to…”
“Keep them?” I returned.
“Yes. Am I supposed to keep all this?”
“These items are yours young lady, for accepting my humble invitation. I appreciate it very much. It’s a delight to be here with you. Truly. You look so beautiful. No one could make this ensemble look as alluring, and my tastes are very discriminating. Actually, you are much more beautiful here, tonight, than at your workplace. That says a lot.”
She sat quietly for a moment, glanced down, then seemed to summon some resolve and looked up at me.
“Thank you.”
There was a noticeable lean forward in her posture suddenly. The waiter appeared at just that instant, introduced himself, took drink orders and left a list of appetizers to start the evening. His arrival quelled whatever it was she had leaned forward to ask.
He stepped away. She began.
“What is this about? I mean, why did you ask me out?”
She was right to the point. Admirable. Suggests that perhaps others had dealt with her less than honestly.
“I want to make a proposition to you. It is a significant one, and I wager it will take some time on your part to fully consider it, as well such a proposition should. Along with my proposition comes a plan. And a proposal. Literally.”
She remained seated upright, but now looking at me with very wide, very brown, eyes.
“I’m interested in recruiting a wife.”
Silence hung in the air. Her posture frozen. Continuing to fix her wide eyes on me. I calmly reached for my water glass and sipped some Perrier. Let the comment hang in the now-heavy air.
She reached for her glass, likely in awkward mimicry but also, I wager, because her mouth was suddenly dry.
“I’m sorry My Dear. Let me explain further. I’m a busy, and systematic man. People say that I am very focused. I say that is normal, and all else is abnormal. When I set about a project, I make a deliberate plan. And I make lofty goals. Excellence in everything I do. Simplicity in my plans. And always, strict honesty and openness. Some people find this awkward.”
I fixed my look on her, not glaring, but looking into her wide, brown eyes with sincerity.
“Young lady, you are perfection. You are beautiful. Beautiful beyond description, and this is a magnificent gift. You are poised. I don’t know how you’ve acquired this quality, but it is rare today. Especially for a young lady. In only the last fifteen minutes since our arrival tonight I’ve observed that in you. The way you stepped out of the car when you arrived. You let me open the door to the restaurant for you. Waited for me to do it. You stood politely and in a dignified manner while I pulled your chair out for you. I’m not sure where you learned these things, but they are valuable to me. Precious even. As valuable as your appearance, which, as I’ve said, is absolutely opulent.”
She appeared to ease somewhat. Soften. But a learned cynicism and caution remained. I could see that.
“So, I am looking for a wife. A beautiful, poised, submissive sexual servant wife. A devoted, capable and willing young lady to join me in life’s finer things. Travel. Entertainment. And especially, sexual activities, a priority of mine. I’m interested in nearly every sexual activity. And I’d like you to join me in them if you find the terms of my proposal, and of course, myself, acceptable and to your agreement.”
Her silence remained. She seemed frozen, taking all this in. I had expected that, so I decided to divert for a few moments and return the conversation to that of a simple dinner date.
“But, enough of this business and life talk. Let’s table my offer for now and simply enjoy the evening and try to get to know each other a little. That is, of course, the first step My Dear, and I am very thorough.”
We placed an order for appetizers and drinks. Neither of us drank alcohol, another good sign. She appeared to relax some as the first course arrived and the conversation lightened.
She began dancing at 18. Was going to turn 19 in six weeks. I noted her impending birthday. She revealed little, but ask many questions. Some were remarkably matrimonial, which was a good sign. She asked me about how I made a living. When the expanse of my ventures became apparent, she did well to not appear overly impressed, as though it was common to her.
“Have you ever been married?” She asked.
I told her I had been too busy building my businesses. I told her I never felt I was in a position to make an offer like I was proposing now, and that I knew it would be extraordinary to find a girl to agree to my terms without significant incentives. The conversation lapsed back to my offer.
“Listen young lady, I know my offer is incredibly forward, very presumptuous- at least now it is, and you have almost no reason to take it seriously. I realize this, and I respect any cynicism. It is well founded in today’s world.”
She fumbled with a piece of shrimp on her plate, licked her beautifully polished finger, swigged some Perrier, and kept her huge, brown eyes on me as I spoke.
“But, you must acknowledge the practicality of my offer. Consider the alternatives, in your future, your life. And, I intend to prove to you that my offer is authentic and trustworthy before you should even offer a response.”
Silence from her. She dabbed the corner of her mouth with the napkin from her lap. For an eighteen-year-old girl, she was accomplished at keeping her cool, holding her cards close.
“This is a lot to consider young lady. Allow me to make an interim suggestion. Think about my offer for a few days. If you would like to explore it further, completely without commitment or obligation, then join me on a holiday. Perhaps we can visit Thailand, a favorite of mine. Or, Sri Lanka. I know of a beautiful resort there with over-water bungalows. It’s up to you. Perhaps you’d enjoy a week in Nice, France. Another favorite of mine. At the Hotel Negresco along the Promenade des Anglais. I know beautiful cafés there. If you love coffee, you’ll love the breakfasts. And the bakeries.”
The waiter returned with dinner menus.
“Consider my offer during this upcoming week young lady, and let’s enjoy our dinner. We have plenty of time to discuss the specifics. For tonight, let’s just enjoy each other’s company, my friend’s wonderful dining and a beautiful evening, made all the more beautiful by you.”
by Sustainer for Literotica

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Fate’s Embrace

Fri, 29 Jul 2022 11:30:46 -0500

Two pedestrians collide fatefully.
by maxicue. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Joe slid through the crowd on the street, not in a hurry, just enjoying it, like it was some kind of game, call it Body Avoidance, a challenge of finding the gaps just large enough to pass through untouched while the bodies continued moving in somewhat predictable ways, though the unpredictable could always happen, adding to the challenge and the fun, that quick burst bypassing the unexpected shift. He loved this game ever since moving to New York, at first when he worked at a copy place in Grand Central Station (nearby where he happened to be sliding through at the moment), especially busy streets around there, especially at rush hours and lunch, and further challenged when he carried heavy packages of copies destined for publishing houses, often pocketing the cab money given to him to walk even farther through more busy streets carrying those burdens.
And then when he became busboy and then waiter at the restaurant at Max’s Kansas City, a punk club with the music upstairs and the restaurant where he worked downstairs, sliding through crowds of kids his age on weekend nights. It felt like a kind of dance, especially at the club, even with his own special tempo.
This time though, for the first time ever as far as he could recall, he collided with someone who seemed to appear out of nowhere, his height of six and a half feet always helping his vision and his traversing perhaps missing her much smaller frame, at least a foot shorter, probably closer to a foot and a half, but more it seemed like she stepped into the narrow passage he’d found as if on purpose, finding the perfect moment for collision. But of course that would have been impossible, her knowing when to get in his way, when he’d happen to be sliding through at that very moment, unless fate could be considered purposeful.
“Asshole,” the young woman growled from the concrete in which his impact sent her, landing on her ass and a hand that prevented something worse like concussion and scraping it for the trouble. With him stopped standing over her, the crowd flowed around the sudden impediment like cattle somehow avoiding stampeding, though less animal and more human since the flow went both ways.
He looked down at a blonde waif, skinny and frail, her t shirt and jeans too big for her and looking well past new, the t shirt white with a band logo he was unfamiliar with showing every stain, and there were many, the jeans showing a small right kneecap where the cloth had frayed. The navy peacoat, too warm for the balmy, almost summerlike weather unusual this early in the year, splayed open.
“I’m so sorry,” Joe exclaimed, and when his stretched out hand was avoided by her, he insisted, “Let me help you up.” She finally allowed his large hand to take hold of her small slim one aiding her to standing. “I didn’t see you,” he added.
“Obviously,” she smirked, adjusting her stuffed and scuffed red backpack on her shoulders.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“I could eat,” she half smiled.
He guided her across the street and to the end of the block where one of the last of the Horn and Hardarts automats existed and put coins into the slots for her tuna sandwich and chips and for his egg salad. He bought her a Coke and he got coffee. She used the toilet there to clean her scrape amongst other things since she took a while, which worried him, thinking she might have run off, but of course she didn’t, having food waiting for her.
“I’m Joe,” he told her.
“Jenny,” she replied before filling her mouth with a bite of sandwich.
They said nothing for a while since she devoured her food, obviously needing it.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“Maybe a pie? The lemon meringue looked tempting.”
“Okay if we share?” he asked.
“That’s fine.”
“Uhm, are you going to stay?” He looked at her, saw her eyes pooling and she sniffled. “Please?”
Her smile nearly broke his heart when she replied, “Nowhere better to be.”
“Good. After we eat, let’s get that scrape taken care of.”
“Okay.”
They stayed, talking over the small empty plate.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“The Twin Cities. Minneapolis.”
“No shit! Me too!”
“No shit!”
“No shit. Where?”
“Robbinsdale.”
“Golden Valley.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
The two suburbs were neighbors, Robbinsdale more middle class than Golden Valley, which tended to be more upper middle class, a lot of professionals, doctors, lawyers and professors, his dad being of the latter type.
Fate.
“You work around here?” she asked, since Joe had dressed up in a jacket and tie, the tie loose around his neck.
“I used to,” he told her. “I’m actually applying for jobs presently.”
“Presently,” she giggled.
“Sorry. I tend to talk like I have a stick up my butt.”
“No, it’s cute.”
“Glad you think so,” he chuckled.
“How’s the job search going?” she asked.
“Not great unfortunately. My uncle’s an executive at the William Morris Agency, and I hoped that might help, but I guess he’s against nepotism. It’s possible I’ll get a job in their mail room. I applied at other offices, but I’m making a career change, or hoping to, and have got little experience.”
“From what?” she asked.
“I used to be a waiter at Max’s Kansas City.”
“No shit!”
“No shit.”
“Why not stay there?”
“I needed a change,” he murmured, unconsciously stroking his arm.
Jenny sensing Joe’s discomfort regarding the subject wisely ended that line of inquiry. “What’s the William Morris Agency?” she asked instead.
“It’s one of the largest talent agencies in America,” he told her.
“Cool.”
“Yeah. It’s had its perks. Getting turned on to Bowie early because my uncle wrote the contract that signed him. Meeting cool stars at a party at his house upstate. Going to openings like the movie Hair and Apocalypse Now, the last a brand new print and sitting close.”
“Is that cool?” she asked.
“Pretty cool,” he chuckled.
When they left the automat, he told her, “Let’s get you some anti-bacteria for your scrape and Band-Aids. I know a drugstore nearby.”
“You don’t have anything at home?” she asked, surprising him.
“Um…you sure?”
“I’m sure,” she smiled, and he could see those pretty blue eyes pool again.
“I can get something on the way,” he decided.
“Great!”
Since the drugstore was close by, he went there anyway, and while getting the first aid stuff, she waited for him near the counter. “Need any of these?” she blushed, pointing to the rack of condoms.
His cock stiffened in his pants while he grabbed a sixpack of lubricated Trojans. She stayed his hand and grabbed a twelve pack instead. “Holy shit,” he thought.
Both were blushing while he made the purchase.
They walked over to Grand Central and took the subway south to Fourteenth Street close to where he lived. They entered a door between a couple non-descript store fronts and climbed the stairs three floors, Joe unlocking a door on the left at the top. Fortunately none of his roommates were around in the shared area, probably sleeping since they tended to keep vampire hours, and Joe guided Jenny down a hallway, taking a sharp right and, pushing aside a beaded curtain, gestured her through. He had by far the largest bedroom in the three bedroom apartment, a couple large windows unfortunately facing the wall of another building. Unfortunate not for the view, but for the easy access from the roof to the room, the probable path taken when someone broke in and stole his record collection and his typewriter not long before. Or they could have just walked in, because he knew the probable culprit, since he’d seen the junkie just off St. Marks selling his records, a regular at Max’s.
“Sorry for the mess,” he apologized, and Joe was a definite slob.
“No problem,” she responded. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
“Jenny?”
“Mind if I take a shower?” she sniffled.
“Not at all. Just a second.” He knelt in front of a small cabinet and grabbed a towel for her. “The red door on the right,” he told her.
For some reason they’d painted the bathroom a deep red, including the door, the rest of the apartment with white walls.
He cleaned up his place while she showered, neatening the books and papers on the coffee table, the table on which he used to type before losing his typewriter, and tossing clothes into a gunny sack he used to tote down to go to the nearest laundromat a block or so away.
She returned carrying her clothes and her bag, wearing the towel with it tucked between her cleavage, more of it than he expected, and when she unceremoniously dropped the towel, she sported perky b cup breasts, all the more substantial looking on her petite frame. She was skinny but fortunately not completely starved, no bones jutting out, her belly youthfully firm with just a hint of convexity, and her full bush, being blonde, seemed less substantial than if it were dark. Her waist curved subtly, neither what some would call child bearing hips, but not boyish either. This was definitely a woman.
“Like what you see?” she smiled, turning, and showing him a perfect firm round ass. He also noticed muscled thighs and her arms even had some definition.
“Wow,” he said. “You’re definitely in shape.”
“Dreams of being a prima ballerina,” she sniffled.
He sat on the bed and patted his lap. “Come here.”
“You have way too many clothes on,” she sniffled and giggled.
“Come here, Jenny,” he said more forcefully.
She sat on his lap sideways. He reluctantly kept his hands off her.
“Tell me,” he said.
“You don’t want to fuck me?”
“Of course I do. Tell me.”
She sobbed. Only then did he embrace her across her middle, her face ending up against his chest. He could feel the tears wet his shirt. “Tell me,” he repeated.
“I…had to,” she choked out.
“Had to?”
“Your shirt,” she murmured, pulling her head away.
“It’s okay,” he insisted, gently pulling her head back.
“I auditioned over the years to get into ballet school here, but no takers,” she managed to say. “I wanted to be a ballerina but I guess I’m not good enough.”
“Best to know I guess,” Joe tried.
“It’s not that. Oh, okay that kind of sucked, but mostly I wanted to get away.”
“From?”
“Everything!”
“Including?”
“My mother’s cruel disappointment. She’d been a ballerina until she had me. My boyfriend turning out to be gay. Another boy practically raping me instead making sure I was ready. My father…”
“Did he…?”
“No, but he was working up to it. Probably looked at me like I was my mom when I was her age or younger I guess. He’d be affectionate, too affectionate as it turned out. He touched me where he shouldn’t, not directly but close, you know. I guess I didn’t believe it, but it turned out he was actually being shy, and eventually brought my hand to his crotch which got me off him immediately. The last straw…I woke up with him in my bed. I screamed and punched like in his diaphragm which took his wind. Maybe I should have punched lower, but I wanted to be nowhere near that, and when I raced out the room, my mother plods over and my dad says some bullshit about me seducing him, and since it was all about jealousy, him being more affectionate to me, and disappointment, she fucking believed him.
“I’m of course freaking out, everything…and then this…but I managed to take some breaths, calming down, and told my mom if she wanted rid of me I needed money. They only had a couple hundred around but my mom takes me to her bank, gets me another five hundred, drives me to the bus station, buys me a ticket to New York, my demand, with her credit card. She actually offered one to me, but I told her she’d probably close it and have me arrested or something, and the bitch shrugged. And I’m like, ‘You’re a fucking cunt.’ And she’s saying I’m a useless slut.”
“Sorry,” Joe apologized.
“I’m the sorry one,” Jenny actually chuckled.
“But…it doesn’t sound like sex…”
Jenny shifted around so that she faced him, straddling his lap. “I got hit on by fucking pimps, Joe, as soon as I got off the fucking bus at Penn station. I’m not as naïve as I look.”
“But you don’t know me.”
“Like you’re a psycho? You don’t seem the type and in a way I don’t fucking care. A rapist probably wouldn’t have brought me home. The hotel I stayed at this creepy guy kept staring at me in the lobby and ended up following me to my fucking floor, so I like got out quick out of there, practically running. And I didn’t even dare shower there since the shower room was fucking shared and fucking groady. I was actually headed to Grand Central when we collided, thinking I’d try taking a train down to twenty-third, staying at the Chelsea or something, just to do something cool while I was here and still alive. So Joe, I guess you’re the best choice I’ve had so far.” She kissed him, pulling off the jacket he still wore and unbuttoning his shirt.
He broke the kiss when he tossed aside the tie, then lifted her and set her on her back on the bed. He finished the unbuttoning and tossed aside his shirt.
“Nice,” she smiled, stroking his chest. Joe didn’t work out, but being young, just twenty-one, and working hard at his job as a waiter, kept him slim and slimly muscled.
He kept his pants on when he made love to her lying beside her on his side. Kisses continued for a while, both enjoying it especially when tongues were involved, her breath tasting of toothpaste and his presumably not offensive, while his hand began exploring the rest of her. The hand took the weight of her breasts, teasingly moving on before a direct attack on her small nipples to linger on her taut belly and moving teasing across her pudendum, through her soft patch of blond hair, before feeling the smoothness of her thighs and the firmness of muscles, and then under her, lifting her slightly by her firm ass, followed by sliding along her back, across her shoulder and returning to her breasts, fingers moving in on her nipples, caressing and tugging gently at each one, making her gasp into his mouth.
Only then did he end the kiss, bringing his mouth to the exploration, finding thrills for her at her ear and neck before moving to her breasts and nipples. Once each one had been appreciated for a while, the second sending his hand down slowly, eventually fingers discovering the dampness of her labia, rimming the edges, his mouth followed the same trail as his hand, and when it reached where she wanted it, he shifted his body between her widened legs and his tongue lapped across her clit, the first touch of it, and she lifted her middle and moaned.
Both fingers and mouth remained there, working her gradually to her first climax via a man, especially intense when he stroked her g spot, his other hand tugging at her nipples, measuring the squeeze and building on it since she seemed to handle ever more pressure there.
“Joe,” she murmured once she recovered, and smiled when he got up and got naked for her. “Oh my,” she commented at his length, on the thicker side, and definitely longer than the two she’d seen by at least a couple inches.
“I’ll be gentle,” he promised, opening a condom and rolling it on and moving between her thighs. He brought her hand to his cock to guide him, and she brought it where she wanted it and he slowly pushed in.
“Oh fuck!” she moaned.
“Too much?” he asked reluctantly.
“Don’t you fucking stop!” she declared.
He pushed into one of the tightest sheathes he’d ever felt and realized he wouldn’t last and told her.
“Just fuck me,” she insisted, her legs wrapping his thighs as emphasis.
Going slow probably helped delay the inevitable, seeming to open her up with each deeper stroke. In the end, he nudged at her cervix, thankfully with his cock completely inside her. He’d known girls her size, even taller, where he had to be careful about the impact there, usually no more than an inch to spare, but enough to cause pain. Not this time. Touching it made her growl, but in a good way.
He decided to exploit that, grinding into her, pubic bone against pubic bone which affected her clit too, and just pulling out a couple inches before thrusting in. She seemed fine with that, even enjoying it, so he kept it up while his hands drew in to work fingers and thumbs on her nipples.
She began meeting his thrusts with lifts, and her hands grabbed his ass cheeks, and she began pulling on his flesh there, wanting longer strokes it seemed, but he waited until she grabbed hard, closing on being painful, her nails thankfully short, he’d learn later she tended to nibble on them when nervous, and he’d actually seen a little of that in the automat, and she pressed against him one more time before announcing her climax with, “Oh my fucking God!” rather loudly at a high growl. And when she loosened her grip, only then did he abandon himself to fully fucking her, long, ever faster strokes for only seconds before he pressed deep, pushing against her cervix, and cumming.
“Joe,” she murmured, her hands pushing his chest.
“Sorry,” he responded, hugging her to him and turning them over. He’d reached the last of his ejaculations, every one intense, and reached down to hold the condom to his penis while shifting her higher with his legs.
“Mmm,” she responded when it slid out. She shivered a little too as if feeling a last echo of her orgasm.
“It’ll be better next time,” he promised.
She chuckled weakly.
“What?” he asked.
She shifted forward. Since both of their bodies had fairly equal proportions of legs to torsos, she had to scoot up a bit, her legs straddling his abdomen, her damp pussy pressing into it, for her to look eye to eye with him. Her hands pressed his shoulders to put her face above his.
“That was several magnitudes better than the last and only fuck I’ve had,” she explained.
“I thought it was making love,” he argued.
“Don’t be pedantic, Joe,” she smirked, surprising him.
“Pedantic?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Of course, but…”
“I’m smarter than I look.”
“I don’t believe in the dumb blonde myth.”
“I’ve met several, and not all blondes.”
“School?”
“And fellow dancers, although most were dedicated enough to be smart too I suppose. Learning to put the time in to do the best you can both in dancing and studying.”
“Makes sense. So school…?”
“I would have graduated this spring if I hadn’t had to run away.”
“GED?” he asked.
“Probably. I don’t imagine going to school for one quarter. You?”
“School?”
“Yeah.”
“I went to Bard in upstate New York for a couple years, but quit because it was ridiculous having parents spend that much money for me to study to be a poet.”
“You’re a poet?”
“Not much recently. I thought New York would be inspiring, but mostly it’s been distracting. I’m also interested in filmmaking, like the experimental kind, so no more lucrative. I still have a Bolex sixteen millimeter camera which fortunately the thieves never found.”
“Thieves?”
“The problem with living amongst junkies. Let me show you something.”
He lifted his left arm and she caressed a line of marks near his inner elbow area.
“Are those…?”
“Tracks. Only one is fairly fresh. It’s why I quit Max’s: too much temptation. Living here too, but right now I can’t afford to move. A friend of mine OD’d and died, and another almost did and I ended up keeping him alive. It was the last straw, and I realized that’d be me, or it’d just be a spiral of inertia, all about the next fix and nothing else, so I quit. Luckily I wasn’t too strung out and basically hung with my folks for a week when my dad had his sabbatical in DC this past winter. I drank a bit there, but my parents seemed none the wiser. Anyway, when I came back to work planning to keep my tips instead of spending them all, I did okay until I didn’t one day, succumbing to temptation, and quit after that.”
“When was that?”
“A week ago. I’ve been job hunting ever since.”
“Lucky for me,” she grinned and shifted around, pulling off the used condom and handing it to him carefully and he managed to toss it atop his underpants while she enveloped his penis in her mouth. He worried about her lack of experience, mostly worried about her teeth, but she proved quite capable. He nudged her to straddle his face and had to bend his back a little, supported by his arms so fingers weren’t available, and mostly kept her pleasure at a