Steamy Stories

Redwood Girls Academy: Part 3

Wed, 06 Dec 2023 07:31:02 -0600

Alan’s Harem grows.

By Cheat105. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.

We finished getting dressed and made our way down to the cafeteria. We probably shouldn’t have walked in at the same time, because soon all eyes were on us and I knew for sure that the rumors would start. And I suppose neither of us were doing ourselves any favors, me looking disheveled as usual and Erin whose clothing looked fine, but her hair was a bit messy. Then of course, there was the fact that both of our faces had turned beet red upon walking in. Luckily everyone soon turned their attention back to what they were doing before we entered, so nothing to worry about, for now at least.

Erin and I each grabbed some food, and quickly spotted Amanda, Molly, and Katie at their table. We walked over to their table and took a seat, the three girls eyeing us intently.

“Well, where the hell have you two been?” Molly asked.

“Yeah, lunch is already almost over.” Katie chimed in.

“Oh, I bet I know what they were doing. You two have fun, or what?” Amanda said knowingly.

“Oh my god, you two. Now of all times? Couldn’t you have waited?” Molly said upon realizing what Amanda was getting at.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I only went to put my blazer away and put my phone on the charger in my room.” I said, trying to play it off, knowing it wouldn’t work.

“Right, for nearly an hour. Must’ve taken a lot of effort.” Molly said sarcastically.

Erin still hadn’t said anything, which wasn’t unusual given her typically shy demeanor. She just sat there staring down at her food, slowly eating and listening to the conversation around her.

“Oh you have no idea.” I responded to Molly.

“Yeah we do.” Amanda said with a grin, and the same grin appeared on Molly and I as well.

“Uh; no fair! Now all three of you have had him and not me? So not fair.” Katie said whiningly.

I fell silent, I had no words. Katie seemed legitimately disappointed that she was the only one left out.

“You snooze you lose, girlie.” Amanda said, sticking her tongue out in childlike manner to the pouting Katie.

“Don’t listen to her, your time will come, sweetie.” Molly said, quickly putting her arm around Katie’s shoulders to comfort her.

Now I should explain, despite all of us being the same age, Molly always tended to act like more of a big sister to Katie than just a normal friend. Maybe it was because despite Katie being 18 like the rest of us, she acted more childlike and with Katie having a more petite kind of build, Molly physically was almost like a big sister to her. Either way, seeing Molly act like that was kind of endearing and sweet, it was one of the things I really liked about her. It reminded me of the way my own older sister used treat me, I missed that, but she like the rest of my family had pretty much cut her ties with me.

“You baby her too much, you know that, right?” Amanda said to Molly.

“Oh hush, Amanda.” Molly said, glaring at Amanda.

“Alright, point taken.” Amanda replied.

The little time left for lunch was spent making small talk mostly. That, and me hastily eating to hurry and finish before lunch ended. When the lunch bell did finally sound, the girls and I parted ways. They all went to their next class, I on the other hand had free period before my next class, so I just went on up to my dorm room. There were a few girls talking in the dorm halls, who I assume also had a free period, but they ignored me and I ignored them. I just entered my room and shut the door behind me. That’s when I immediately noticed the distinct odor that filled my room, it smelled like sex, which to me certainly wasn’t a bad thing. I just sat at my desk and booted up my computer, enjoying the scent and fresh memories of my time with Erin. I loaded up Netflix and queued up a show to watch for the next hour or so.

When the episode ended, I looked at the time and let out a long sigh. It was already time for my next class, time flew by way too quick, I thought. Luckily it was my last class of the day, so it wouldn’t be too bad, and with it being English, I didn’t even have to pay attention. Which, I still don’t know why a senior in high school is still required to take an English class, but that’s beside the point. Anyways, I half-ass tucked in my shirt, half-assed my tie as well, then threw on my blazer and I was out the door in minutes.

I got to class just as it was starting and quickly took my seat in the back. Almost as soon as I sat down I zoned out, the teacher beginning her lesson was just muffled noise in the background of my thoughts. My mind immediately went to the girls, I still couldn’t believe how lucky I’d been thus far. Over the course of just 3 days, I had sex with 3 different girls, I mean how unreal is that? A thought then crossed my mind, should I go for a perfect 4? I began playing with the idea in my head, I could probably pull it off. I mean, Katie did genuinely seem jealous of the other 3 girls, and when Molly told her that her time will come, that seemed to really lift her spirits. But how would I go about it, with Molly it happened naturally and with Amanda and Erin it happened by their doing. Would I even need to worry about trying to make it happen? Knowing Katie, how childish and pushy she can be at times, she’d probably orchestrate it herself. Then again, that same childlike innocence might be the thing that would stop her from acting.

Time flew by quickly as usual, class ended and I decided not to think too much more on the subject of Katie as it was beginning to drive me crazy. I walked across campus to the dorm alone, I’d half expected at least one of the girls to show up, but none of them did. I didn’t think much of it though, it’s not as if they’re required to walk with me. But it was a bit odd that I hadn’t so much as heard from any of them, Molly would usually text me after class to see about grabbing dinner in the cafeteria. Plus we would all usually hang out on Fridays. When I got to my room, I opened the door almost expecting to see Erin waiting in my room, I don’t why, maybe a repeat performance? But nobody was there, I just walked in my room, stripped off my uniform and put on a pair of jeans. I then booted up computer, signed into Netflix and continued the show I was watching earlier.

When it got to around dinner time, I still hadn’t heard from any of the girls. Sure, I could’ve texted them, but I’ve never been the type to take the initiative to text someone, and with Molly especially I never had to worry about it because she would always be the one to text me first. I decided to just head down to the cafeteria. When I got to the cafeteria, there was Amanda and Erin, but no Molly or Katie. That’s strange, I thought. I grabbed some food then joined Amanda and Erin at their table, figuring I’d just ask them.

“Hey you two.” I said, sitting down.

“Hey Alan.” Amanda said, meanwhile Erin offered a simple nod as her greeting.

“So where’s Molly and Katie?” I asked.

“Not sure, I haven’t seen them since class let out.” Amanda said.

Now, that really is strange, not even Amanda, one of their best friends knew where they were. I tried not to worry about it and just focus on eating. As we ate, we made small talk, but nothing of note, it actually made me realize that Molly really was the heart of out little group. Without her, we just didn’t seem to have much to say. When we all finished eating, we parted ways to head to our respective rooms. As I walked to my room, my phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket, it was a text from Molly.

Molly: Sorry I missed dinner, but can you come meet me at the gym?

Me: Sure? I guess.

Molly: Great! I’ll be waiting our front.

Me: Alright, I’ll head that way.

I hadn’t heard from Molly since lunch and now she wants me to meet her at the gym? What gives? Then I remembered what happened the last time I was in that gym, my spirits immediately lifted, I knew what this meant. Sure, before I was disappointed that we didn’t have dinner together, but the gym was a much better place to spend time. I quickly made my way to the gym, and sure enough there was Molly waiting near the door.

“Hey Molly, what’s up?” I greeted her.

“Hey Alan, just follow me.” she said.

Straight to business, I thought. Not that I minded, I’d been looking forward to having another go with her ever since our first. I followed her into the dark gym.

“Look, I know what you’re probably thinking, but I didn’t invite you here for that. I need to talk to you.” she said as we walked across through the darkness.

What? I thought. Then what are we doing here? I wondered. I was more than a little disappointed.

“Um, can’t we talk elsewhere? Why get my hopes up by bringing me here?” I asked, wondering why the gym.

“Look, I know you’re disappointed, trust me, I wanna have another night like our last one just as much as you. But there’s a reason I brought you here, just let me explain.” she said.

“Okay, go ahead.” I said, curious at what she had to say that couldn’t be said elsewhere.

“It’s about Katie, the reason I missed dinner is because I was talking to her. You Katie was really upset when she found out that me, Amanda, and now Erin have been with you. She feels really left out. And I told her that you’d have sex with her too, if she wanted. So that’s why I brought you here, I’ve got Katie waiting in the locker room.”

So that’s why, I thought. My heart began to race with anticipation and I quickened my walking pace slightly. It seems I wouldn’t have to try and hatch some plan after all, apparently Molly and Katie had done that.

“Now, hold on, not so fast. I’m not done. Look, there’s something you need to know. Katie is a virgin, and I told her that you could be her first, she was nervous and took a little convincing. But I assured her, you would be gentlemanly. She only asked that I stay with her the whole time, to help talk her through it.” Molly explained.

I almost gasped, Katie’s a virgin? I know, that shouldn’t be that big of a surprise, but it kind of was. I mean these days, most people have lost their virginities before 18. What’s more is she wants me to be her first, or Molly does, to be more accurate. And to be perfectly honest I didn’t know how to feel about being a girl’s first. The last and only time I was a girl’s first was when that same girl was also my first. But then again the idea was rather enticing, Katie was quite the little hottie after all. Yet that alone didn’t alleviate my hesitation, I was kind of worried that it would be like taking advantage of her, plus with Molly there the whole time, I feared it would be kind of awkward. I’ve never had sex with someone watching before, it seemed strange to me.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just feel like this is the only way to make Katie feel better.” Molly said.

I continued to mull it over. I was hesitant to be sure, but if Katie was so upset and doing this really would help, how could I refuse? Plus Molly seemed to want this too, and I wasn’t sure I could refuse anything coming from her.

“It’s understandable to have misgivings about being someone’s first. But I really want to help her out an you’re the only way I know to do that. So please, do this for me.” Molly said, her eyes pleading in the darkness.

Those were the magic words. I was sold. This was something Molly really wanted, and for whatever reason, I can’t bring myself to disappoint her.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” I finally said.

“Really? You will? Oh thank you so much Alan.” Molly said excitedly, immediately wrapping me in and embrace.

All I did was nod a simple “yes.” I could tell this really meant a lot to her. She was like me, in a way. Molly couldn’t bring herself to disappoint Katie, and I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint Molly.

“Great, now just follow me.” Molly said, leading me into the locker room.

We entered the locker room, but Katie wasn’t in sight.

“She’s in the back, before you got here we laid out some mats so she could be more comfortable.” Molly explained, seeing my initial confusion.

We continued walking past the lockers and changing area, past the showers, and stopped when we got to the equipment storage area. And there was Katie, sitting nervously on some mats they’d laid out on the floor.

“Hey Alan.” Katie greeted me shyly, as she stared at the floor.

It was a bit off putting to see Katie acting so shy and nervous, she was usually so bubbly and outgoing. I really felt for her, after all I’d been nervous like that before my first time as well. And though I was nervous now, I realized I couldn’t show it or it would just make Katie even more nervous. I needed to act confident and comfortable, to show her that she’s in good hands. But I also needed to be gentle and reassuring so she wouldn’t be freaked out or anything, which it did help that she’d have Molly her best friend there for moral support.

I slowly took a seat next to Katie on the mats, so that I wasn’t standing over her. Molly followed suit and sat down a couple of feet from us.

“It’s alright Katie, no need to be so nervous. Just follow Alan’s lead, I promise he’d never do anything hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable.” Molly said in a gentle tone.

“Okay.” Katie said, looking up at me for the first time since I entered the room.

I looked directly into her beautiful hazel eyes, then with a few fingers I slowly reached out and gently wiped a few stray strands of her dirty-blonde hair out of her face and her mouth creased into a slight smile. I took this as a good sign and slowly leaned in again until my lips met hers in a soft kiss. It was just a short peck kiss, before I pulled back to gauge her response. I didn’t think to ask Molly just how experienced Katie was, so I didn’t know if she’d ever even kissed a guy before. To my slight surprise Katie then leaned in towards me and initiated another kiss, this one longer and with more movement in our lips. She then parted her lips and I parted mine, allowing our tongues to meet in the middle, our tongues wrestled for a bit whilst entering each others mouths. We continued making out like that for a minute or so before we the broke apart to catch our breath. Obviously, she had some experience with kissing.

Katie was visibly excited after the short make out session, she was breathing harder and her chest moving more rapidly with her heart beat. The same could be said for myself, with my increased heart rate, I could feel a stirring in my loins. Taking her reaction to kissing as another good sign, I decided to move forward. So I slowly pulled my t-shirt off and laid it beside us, my semi-muscular torso now exposed to Katie for the first time. Luckily, Katie still looked to be comfortable, even biting her bottom lip as she slowly reached her hand out and began lightly running a few fingers over my abdomen and along my chest. Taking this as yet another good sign, I leaned in again and we began making out once more, whilst making out I began to slowly unbutton her school blazer and she didn’t stop me, so when I had it unbuttoned I broke our kiss and helped her slipped out of it. We set her blazer aside then recommenced with the kissing. What came next would make or break this whole thing, as our tongues explored each other’s mouths I slowly reached out and undid the top button on her blouse, then waited to see if she was going to stop me. She made no effort to stop me so I unbuttoned the next one, then another, and soon enough her blouse was completely unbuttoned and she hadn’t stopped me, so far so good. We broke our kiss once again while I helped her out of her blouse, revealing a pale pink bra that hid her petite a-cup breasts.

Katie looked nervous once again as she used her arms to cover her chest, this was clearly the least amount of clothing she’d ever had on around a guy. I then wrapped her in a comforting embrace, to try and reassure her. It was then that I felt how much her body was shaking, she was really nervous about all this. Luckily Molly took this as her cue and she quickly joined the embrace, wrapping her arms around us as she pressed softly against Katie’s trembling back.

“It’s alright sweetie, you’re doing so well, just relax.” Molly whispered words of encouragement into Katie’s ear.

“Okay,” Katie replied in a whisper.

“Just remember, I’m right here if you need me.” Molly said, breaking her embrace.

Wow, Molly really is like a big sister to her, I thought to myself. Feeling nostalgiac once again as I briefly reminisced about how my own older sister and I used to be, and that sense of nostalgia was soon replaced with a feeling of melancholy. I was quickly brought back to reality as I realized I sill had a half-naked girl in front of me.

With Katie still in my arms, I began planting soft kisses along her neck, in my experience that was always a sure fire way to turn a girl on, and to my delight Katie was no different. She let out a subtle moan as I kissed her flawless neck. Taking that as the good sign that it was, I used my hands which were still wrapped around her to unclasp her bra. I broke our embrace as she nervously let the straps fall from her shoulders and the cups fall from her breasts. I sat back and admired her bare chest. Her breasts were no more than an a-cup, in fact I’d seen on her bra that the size was 32a to be exact. While, not very big, they actually fit her small frame quite well. And the two petite lumps of flesh were topped with a pair of perky little pink nipples that stuck straight out.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” I said, as she stared at the ground nervously.

“You really mean that?” she asked shyly.

“Of course I mean it.” I replied, offering a reassuring smile.

“So you don’t think my boobs are too small?” she asked, finally looking up at me.

“No, they’re perfect.” I answered truthfully.

I was being honest, from what I’ve seen, bust size is relative to the particular person’s body type. Basically, with her petite body type, her a-cups were actually a perfect fit for her, if her breasts were much bigger then they’d look weird and disproportionate on her small frame.

“Thank you, Alan.” she said with a smile, clearly no longer feeling so self-conscious about her breast size.

With that boost in her self esteem, I leaned towards her and planted deep kiss on her lips. I then parted my lips from her’s and began planting kisses down her neck once again, to which she responded with another subtle moan. I s

Redwood Girls Academy: Part 2

Tue, 05 Dec 2023 07:30:51 -0600

Alan Awakens the sexuality of the girls.

By Cheat105. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Before things could progress any further, I got up and helped Molly up off the floor. As a courtesy I was careful not steal any glimpses of her naked body and turned my back again so she could finish drying off, trust me I know how difficult that was. When she finished drying off she didn’t put her fresh clothes on, she just wrapped the towel around herself again. She then turned me around and kissed me on the lips again. When she broke our kiss I looked her in the eyes and saw that the fire was still there.

“What do ya say we go to your room?” she asked in a seductive tone.

After all that talk about not making the same mistakes, here I was. My resolve had been completely crushed, all my trepidation about being with another girl after what happened last time had been thrown into the wind. Lust was the only emotion in my body. I nodded in the affirmative then we grabbed her things and I helped her down the hall to my room. Once we got to my room and the door shut behind us we dropped her things on the floor and began kissing once again. We then broke our kiss and stepped back from one another, almost in the same motion Molly dropped her towel to the floor, revealing her naked body to me. My jaw almost dropped at the sight. Her B-cup breasts weren’t very big but they were perky, they were a bit paler in tone than the rest of her tanned body and were capped with a pair of pink nipples and areolas. My eyes scanned down her body, she had a thin patch of pubic hair just above her perfect tight looking cunt. Everything about her seemed so flawless and I wanted her. There was no denying it anymore, I had to have her.

“Alright, now take off those shorts, I wanna get a look at that thing that was poking my thigh.” Molly said as I continued scanning her perfect body.

Without saying anything, I responded by first taking off my shirt, revealing to her for the first time my modestly muscled torso. I watched her eyes scan over my upper body, I could tell she was pleased. I then hooked my thumbs under the waistband of my shorts and pulled down my shorts and boxers in one motion. My sizable rock hard cock sprang forth from its bindings and stood straight out. Molly’s eyes widened at first, then she began to bite her lip, as she stared at my engorged member.

“Oh my gosh, that’s big.” she said.

I smiled at her compliment. If there is one thing I was truly blessed with it was being well endowed, about 9 inches when fully erect. Molly and I simultaneously moved towards one another and our lips met for another kiss. This time she parted her lips to allow my prying tongue access to explore her mouth, I did the same and soon our tongues were wrestling in each others mouths. As we tongue kissed, I began caressing Molly’s taut sexy body, I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her firm muscular ass cheeks. She moaned into my mouth when I brought one hand up to her breasts and began groping them, feeling her nipples harden even more. By the time we broke apart both of us were breathing heavily and had begun sweating.

“Skip the foreplay, I need you inside me now.” she said in a low almost pleading voice.

Molly then sat down on my bed and laid back with her legs spread. She squeezed her small perky tits, looking up at me with a pleading look on her face. She wanted this just as bad as I did. I positioned myself at the end of the bed between her spread legs, and began rubbing my cock along the outer lips of her soaking wet slit, I was about to enter her for the first time when I stopped in my tracks because I had a sudden realization.

‘Shit, I don’t have a rubber.“ I said, panic beginning to set in.

"It’s fine, I’m on the pill. Just please, fuck me already.” she said in that same pleading voice from a moment ago.

Relieved by her response I lined my cock up with her dripping wet snatch and began slowly pushing forward without any further delay. Molly let out a quiet but prolonged yelp as her cunt lips stretched to accommodate my girth. She was really tight, but I could tell she was no virgin. After a steady push finally I had bottomed out in her, I stopped for a moment to give Molly’s strained cunt a chance to get used to my buried member.

“Oh my god, I almost didn’t think you were gonna fit” Molly said, clearly out of breath.

“Yeah? Well when there’s a will, there’s a way.” I said, looking down at her with a grin.

“I’d say so. Now come on, what’s the hold up? You gonna fuck me or what?” Molly said, biting her lip.

I was taken aback by her pleading candor. I know she wanted this at least as much as I did, but it was almost as if she was desperate for a good fuck. Though, I suppose her being in a school with only girls for the past several years she probably didn’t get many opportunities for sex, so she certainly would be more than a little pent up.

“Oh, I can do that.” I said reassuringly.

I then slowly drew my hips back, Molly moaned as my cock inched out of her tight wet cunt. Just when I had pulled all but a couple of inches out of her, I quickly rammed my full length back into her snatch, she let out a vocal yelp in response. I did this several more times and Molly, realizing she was getting a little loud, put my pillow over her mouth to muffle her moans.

Getting bored with the slow pace, I began to speed up. Molly continued to moan into the pillow.

“Mm hmm, fuck yeah, please; faster. Please go faster, and harder” Molly breathlessly pleaded.

I then increased my pace tenfold, I began thrusting my hard cock in and out of her dripping wet cunt as fast and hard as I could. She let out a muffled cry of ecstasy into the pillow as the sounds of our colliding flesh rang through the room. She wrapped her legs around my back, her feet interlocking over my ass as I vigorously thrusted into her, I let out a grunt and a sigh with each push. Even though her breasts weren’t very big, those perky little things were certainly jiggling violently with every movement.

As I rammed into her with a powerful push, her interlocked legs pulled me deeper into her and her surprisingly strong leg muscles kept me from pulling out.

“Oh fuck! I’m cumming!” she managed to utter.

With that her whole body tensed up and her cunt clamped down on my shaft. Then her muscles began to twitch and relax as I felt her cum wash over my buried cock. The added sensations caused my own orgasm to come racing through me. With one last groan I tensed up and began shooting rope after rope of hot jizz deep inside Molly’s pulsating cunt.

My climax left me drained and I went limp and collapsed onto the bed next to Molly. Both of us were breathing heavily and sweating profusely.

“Holy shit, that was good. I needed that more than you know.” Molly said as she got up off the bed and began putting on the clean change of clothes she’d brought with her to the shower.

“I should be getting back to my room now.” she said, as she finished getting dressed and started gathering her things.

“How’s your ankle? You gonna be alright getting back alone?” I said, remembering her injured ankle.

“Oh that quit hurting a while ago, don’t worry. It’s amazing what a good fuck does for pain.” she said with a giggle.

I let out a laugh as well. Molly then grabbed the rest of her things from off the floor and made her way to my door.

“We should definitely do this again sometime.” she said with a wink before leaving.

As my door shut behind her, I laid there naked in my bed thinking about the last thing she’d said. We’re gonna do this again, could my life get any better? I silently asked myself. I fell asleep like that, full of anticipation. Of course unbeknownst to me at the time, my life was going to get better, a lot better.

The next morning I awoke to my alarm going off, I had my first class within the hour. As I got ready, all I could think about was what happened the night before with Molly. We had sex, and I felt great, after feeling so depressed about the past for so long, it was just what I needed. Sure, I was a little sad that when my resolve was truly put to the test, I ended up failing. And her last words before leaving my room, saying we should do it again sometime. I couldn’t wait to see her again, and I couldn’t wait to see where things would go from here.

Sadly as the day went by I wouldn’t get to see Molly very much. We were both just too busy with school work, the teachers that day had decided to go all out with the class work and homework, not only that but we had tests the next day, so everyone would be spending most of their free time studying. They weren’t even having volleyball practice that day, so I wouldn’t even get to see Molly then. After my last class, I walked back to the dorms alone, more than a little disappointed that I wouldn’t getting a repeat of the previous night’s activities. But I had my hopes up for the weekend.

“Hey Alan!” I heard a familiar excited voice behind me as I trudged along.

I turned around, to see that the voice had belonged to Amanda, who was walking behind me at a much quicker pace, as though she was trying to catch up to me.

“Oh hey Amanda. Just on my way to my room.” I stopped walking to turn and greet her.

“Well forget about that, walk with me for a sec. I wanna talk to you about something.” she said.

I was about to protest that I had to study and do homework, but she had grabbed my arm and began leading me in the opposite direction I was going. I was curious as to what she wanted to talk to me about, so I just went along with her.

“So, where are we going? And what did you wanna talk to me about?” I asked, as I walked alongside her.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll explain everything when we get there.” she replied.

Where ever “there” is, I thought. That question would soon be answered for me when we arrived at the gym where they usually hold volleyball practice, the fact that she had led to a locked gym had certainly confused me. Then to my surprise, Amanda pulled out a key and unlocked the door to the gym. Which I guessed that as team captain she was given a key. We entered the gym, it was dark and completely empty. Now my curiosity had reached a tipping point wondering why Amanda had brought me to the empty gym. She continued leading me across the dark gym floor, until finally we came to a stop.

“Okay so,” I couldn’t even finish getting the words out before Amanda suddenly pulled me towards her and pressed her soft lips against mine for a quick kiss.

She broke the kiss and took a step back. I was dumbfounded, where the hell did that come from? I wondered. And more, what are her intentions? I couldn’t even get a read on her facial expressions due to the lack of light in the gym.

“Okay, what was that for?” I asked incredulously.

“Oh, well, Molly told me all about what you guys did last night, ” Amanda replied matter of factly.

Damn, I thought, Molly told her? I didn’t peg her as the type to kiss and tell, though I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised that she would tell one of her best friends about something like that.

“And, well, I want in on it” she continued.

Wait a minute, did I hear that last part right? I was so lost in thought I barely heard her.

“What” I asked in disbelief.

“You heard me, I want you to fuck me.” she replied.

I just stood frozen in disbelief. My eyes had finally adjusted to the dark, so I could now make out the look on her face, she was dead serious.

“Look, I haven’t had sex since the last time I went home, which was during summer break to be exact, either way that was months ago. I need this, I need you. And don’t worry, I’ve already talked to Molly about it, she’s totally cool with it. So I figured since I have the gym key, we could do it in the locker room and that way the noise won’t be a problem. And since Coach Jones went home for the night, she won’t be a problem either.” Amanda explained.

Wow, she put a lot of thought into this. I didn’t know what to say. My hormones and instincts were telling me to just go for it, but my mind kept telling me that this could only lead to trouble. I could tell she was waiting for my response, but honestly I didn’t have one. I just stood there stuck in my own head.

“Well, what do you ” she couldn’t get the words because then it was my turn to interrupt her.

As she tried to speak, I finally just gave in to my own instincts. I grabbed her, pulled her towards me and pressed my lips against hers for a long passionate kiss. She promptly got into the kiss as well and soon both our mouths were opened and our tongues intertwined.

“I guess I got my answer.” she said with a lust filled look after breaking our tongue kiss.

She then grabbed my hand and led me into the locker room, flipping the light switch on the wall to turn on the lights as the door shut behind us. We then began passionately kissing again as we stood there in the middle of the locker room. As we locked in that kiss we began hastily removing each other’s school uniforms. First, our blazers fell to the floor, then we began unbuttoning each other’s shirts. I eagerly opened her shirt to reveal her ample d-cup breasts encased in a black lacy bra. My cock jumped at the sight, not that it needed any more encouragement, after all I had been rock hard since the kissing started.

We broke our kiss and Amanda had opened my shirt as well and was running her fingers across my modest abs. I brought my own hand up and began copping a feel on her big juicy tits over her bra. She let out a little moan when I lightly squeezed her breast. I then went back to removing her clothes, I started by removing her shirt the rest of the way and let it fall to the floor. Amanda meanwhile now just in her bra, skirt, long knee socks and shoes had already started undoing my belt and moved on to unbuttoning and unzipping my pants when she finished with the belt. But I had to stop her before she could pull my pants down, as I still needed to remove my shoes to make that possible. I sat down on the bench in front of the lockers and began taking off my shoes and socks, Amanda did the same. As soon as we stood up Amanda wasted no time in pulling my pants down, I stepped out of them and removed my own shirt the rest of the way tossing it aside. I now stood before Amanda in just my bulging boxers. In response I pulled down her skirt to reveal a sexy pair of panties that matched her bra pulled tightly over her voluptuous ass. Now we were both in just our underwear, staring at one another.

I then grabbed Amanda in my arms and began kissing her once again. After breaking the kiss I then reached my arms around her back and unclasped her bra, she let it fall to the ground, freeing her tits at last. I immediately saw that her bra didn’t do their size justice, her massive tits hung freely on her chest, jiggling with every slight movement, but they didn’t sag. They were symmetrical and well proportioned. All in all, they were a great looking pair of breasts.

I then reached out and put both hands on her tits, firmly squeezing the giat mounds of flesh. She moaned as I softly pinched her erect nipples, which stuck out about half an inch off her breasts. I then began running my hands down her stomach until I reached the waistband of her panties. I hooked my fingers into the elastic waistband and slowly pulled them down her thighs, exposing her bald cunt inch by inch.

Amanda stepped out of her panties once they got past her knees. Then she reached out and began pulling down my boxers, my fully erect cock springing forth as she slid my boxers down.

“Mm, wow; it’s just as big as Molly said it was.” she almost gasped upon seeing my cock.

I smiled, satisfied that my cock had left such an impression. I then grabbed her and began deeply tongue kissing her.

“Fuck, I need you in me; now!” she said after breaking our kiss.

She was just as overcome with lust as me. I grabbed her and she yelped as I wrapped my hand in her blonde hair and pushed her against the wall. I began deeply passionately kissing her as I caressed her tits with my free hand. I guided my cock to her cunt and rubbed it along her soaking wet lips, coating my shaft in her juices. She let out a moan as I spread her cunt lips with the tip of my cock.

“Ah fuck!” she squealed and broke our kiss as I drove my full length into her hot wet cunt with one powerful thrust.

She wasn’t nearly as tight as Molly, but she wasn’t loose either. With her back pinned against the wall, I began thrusting in and out of her snatch with reckless abandon. Her tits bounced with each push and she screamed with pleasure as I repeatedly drove into her.

“Mm; fuck! I needed this! Here take me from behind, make me your bitch!” she exclaimed, staring me in the eyes.

I took my cock out of her cunt and let her off the wall. She went over to the bench, and bent over placing her hands on the bench to brace herself. I then assumed the position behind her and slapped her big round ass, watching it jiggle, she yelped and giggled in delight. I then grabbed her hip and easily found her cunt with my cock. I began thrusting into her again as fast and hard as I could, her tits hanging beneath her rocked with each thrust.

“Oh fuck yeah! I’m your bitch, fuck me like you own me!” she screamed, as she was being rocked back and forth with each push.

I was fucking her so furiously that she had to hold onto to that bench like a vise-grip to keep from losing her balance. The sounds of her soaking wet cunt and fleshy ass cheeks slapping against my pelvis filled the locker room, and her loud moans echoed off the metal lockers surrounding us. There was no way I was gonna last much longer and I silently hoped Amanda was close to climaxing as well.

“Oh god! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna fucking cum!” she suddenly yelled as if on cue.

“Mm, fuck yeah babe. I’m gonna bust soon too” I said between labored breaths.

“Mm, oh fuck! Let me feel your cum inside!” she screamed in response.

With that I stopped holding back and just let go. I quit thrusting and just stood still with my cock buried in her snatch, a tremble went through my body as I began spraying my seed inside her.

“Mm, I feel it! Oh fuck! I’m cumming!” Amanda exclaimed as her body locked up.

Then as a tremble racked her body and her muscles contracted I felt her fluid wash over my buried member. She let out an audible sigh as her orgasm took her. Her cunt pulsated on my cock, managing to squeeze out every last drop of my cum.

I let my softening cock fall out of her cunt and then I sat down on the bench, to catch my breath. I was exhausted, but exhilerated at the same time.

“Oh wow, I needed a good fuck. I feel so much better now. Thanks Alan.” Amanda said, getting up and gathering her discar

Redwood Girls Academy: Part 1

Mon, 04 Dec 2023 07:30:45 -0600

Alan is the only guy in an all-girls school.

By Cheat105. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Hello, my name is Alan and through some strange twist of fate at age 18 I ended up the only boy in an all-girls school for my senior year. Now I understand, to most guys the idea of being surrounded by hot girls every day sounds like a dream come true, but being a teenage boy I was basically a walking hard on, which was like torture. How did I end up in this place? Well, long story short I got into some trouble and was kicked out of my old school and my mother who was the headmistress at Redwood Academy for Girls, pulled some strings and exceptions were made, so I got transferred here. It’s a little hard to explain and I don’t know all the details myself. The school didn’t want to lose their head mistress, so a probationary enrollment was authorized by the regents.

Now growing up in a family with only my mother, my sister, my aunt, and my 2 female cousins, I was used to being around women. My father had split when I was young and my aunt’s husband had split too, which I’m quite sure left them feeling a bit jaded towards men. But despite their feelings toward men, they always treated me very well, so I never felt unloved or anything. Well that was until I became a teenager and started getting into trouble. Then I suppose the recent trouble with my school was the last straw and despite my mother going out on a limb to get me transferred to Redwood she seemed to act rather cold towards me, and I got a similar treatment from the rest of the family.

On my first day in the new school, I was introduced by the teachers in all my classes and let’s just say the reception was a little less than warm. Some girls looked at me curiously, clearly fascinated by the situation. But most of the girls met me with cold stares, quite obviously not happy about me, a guy being allowed in their school. And honestly, who could blame them? I didn’t even try to make an effort to fit in, hell I didn’t even wear the school uniform, right. The uniform which consisted of a gray blazer with school seal sewn onto the breast, a navy blue knit vest sweater, a white button down formal shirt, a tie, a pleated wool skirt or navy slacks, and brown leather dress shoes. The proper way to wear the uniform was the blazer closed with the three buttons going down the bottom half, white dress shirt tucked in and buttoned all the way up, and the tie done in your typical Windsor knot. (Being a male, the tie part only applied to me, the females had ties too but not the same as a men’s tie. And I was forbidden to wear a skirt.)

Anyways, having always hated dressing up; I walked into that school with the blazer unbuttoned and open, the white shirt only half-way tucked in with the top few buttons undone and the tie was half-assed at best. Not to mention my unkempt medium length brown hair and the unshaven stubble on my face. From the second I stepped foot on that campus most everyone looked at me like some kind of delinquent. And by the time I was being introduced in my classes, word had already gotten around that the new male student was a delinquent and somehow they even got the idea that I’m some kind of pervert. I’ll concede the delinquent part, but a pervert? That frustrated me.

There are probably some well-adjusted girls in this academy, but a bunch of the chicks are either man-haters, lesbians, phobic of all things male, or just generally snobs. Testosterone is regarded as a toxic and harmful scourge on half of the world’s population, and responsible for the bulk of crime, violence, war, and the suppression of the enlightened feminine half of the world. The sociology department faculty advances these beliefs and even advocates such bigoted attitudes in their lectures. If a girl wasn’t already a sexist bigot when she got there, she likely graduated as a fully converted bitch.

When the first day of classes ended, I walked alone to the student dorms. I was supposed to be meeting with the RA concerning my living situation on campus. The campus was huge, countless classrooms and other facilities, three separate dorms each with their own cafeterias and rec rooms. It’s really a miracle I didn’t get lost. I got to the dorms and found the RA in her office. I noticed immediately that she was an attractive woman. She looked to be maybe in her late 20s to early 30s.

“Alan Reynolds?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Right. Well hello, I’m Danielle. I’m the resident assistant of these dorms. Go ahead and take a seat.” she said, gesturing to a chair sitting in front of her desk.

I took a seat while she turned her attention back to the computer sitting on her desk.

“I’ll assign you a room here in a bit, but first I need to go over the rules with you. As you can imagine the situation is a bit unprecedented.” she said turning her attention to me.

I just nodded my head.

“First off, we don’t have any designated men’s facilities in the dorms. So we’ve had to make some new rules for the bathrooms and showers. I’ve made up a schedule for when you can use the showers; when nobody else is using them. As for the restrooms, since that obviously can’t be scheduled, you’ll have to use one of the guest restrooms on the main campus.” she said, handing me a piece of paper with a list of times that I can use the showers.

“That’s fine.” I said, but thinking differently. Wonderful, I thought, this is basically like a fucking prison, scheduled showers? Fuck.

I mean, I understood the reasoning, but it still bothered me none the less.

“Good” she said, with a smile. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your room.” she added while standing up from her desk.

I followed her out of her office and walked with her as she continued telling me about the dorm, the cafeteria, rec room, etc. She showed me to my room at the near end of the hall.

“For obvious reasons, you’ll be given your own room. All students are expected to be in their rooms with lights out at 10pm. If you need anything, just ask, you know where my office is. Since your assigned room is near the stairs and shower room, you’ll have to answer for any time you’re seen further down the hall, or on any other residential floor. Several parents are not happy that a guy is in their daughter’s school, so we’ve made a strong commitment to them that we would step up the monitoring of your presence.” she said handing me the room key before walking away.

I entered my room and took a look around. There were 2 beds, 2 dressers, 2 desks, and a pretty sizable closet that was clearly built for 2. Looking around at all the extra furnishings really hammered home how lonely my life would be at this school. Then again, I suppose having my own room was better than having to share like all the other students. I set my book bag down next to the desk and took a seat on the bed, luckily the bed was at least plenty comfortable, but I would need to get sheets, pillows, and blankets. However all of my stuff was out in mom’s car, so I would have to go see her before the day was over.

I got up and left my room, shutting the door and locking it behind me. I walked through the hall of the dorm, ignoring the stares from the girls. I made my way out of the dorm and onto the main campus. I was headed to the headmistress’s office, my mom’s office. When I got to the building where her office was located I walked in and found mom’s office, the door was open so I didn’t bother knocking or talking to her secretary.

“Mom,” I said, to get her attention as she was busy working at her desk.

“I have a secretary for a reason, you know.” she said, not even looking up from her work.

She’s been rather cold and distant like this ever since the trouble with my old school, so this was no surprise.

“I hardly think I need to ask a secretary to speak to my mother.” I countered.

“Very well, what do you need? I’m busy.” she responded.

“I need to get my stuff out of your car.” I said.

Mom then reached down to her purse on the floor beside her and grabbed her keys from one of the pockets. And she finally looked up from her work at me when she handed me the keys.

“Fix your uniform, Alan. And please get a haircut and shave. Try to make yourself presentable.” she said before turning her attention back to her work.

I didn’t say anything more. I just stuffed the keys in my pocket and walked out of her office. Strangely enough it felt good that she acknowledged my improper wear of the uniform, it seems to have been the most attention she’s paid to me in a long while. I walked out to the parking lot where mom’s car was parked. I had a couple of boxes and bags, too much to carry all the way to the dorms, so I just drove the car over to the dorms and parked outside. I then got out and grabbed my two large duffel bags from the backseat and began carrying them to my room. I made note of the audience of girls watching me as I carried my bags. I dropped my bags off in my room, then made my way back out to the car. I popped the trunk and as I looked in the trunk to get my remaining boxes, I heard a female voice from behind me.

“Hey, you’re the new male student, right? Alan’s your name?” the female voice asked.

“Huh? Oh yeah,” I said, turning around slightly startled.

The voice had come from a pretty attractive brunette with green eyes. I couldn’t tell much else about her due to the restrictive school uniform, but she had a light tan and stood about 5 foot 6. I remembered her from one of my morning classes. She’s one of the few girls who didn’t look at me with disgust. I also quickly noticed the number of girls outside the dorm who were giving me the stink eye as this girl spoke to me. And she must’ve noticed too.

“Oh don’t worry about any of them. Most of them are just uppity bitches who are just jealous that their boyfriends aren’t allowed on campus and you were.” she said, looking around at the other girls.

Wow, I thought, this girl just calls it how she sees it. It was a breath of fresh air to be sure.

“Anyways, you need some help carrying those boxes? Oh I’m Molly, by the way. Nice to meet you.” she said with a smile and a cute giggle, reaching out her hand for a handshake.

“Uh yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Alan.” I said, taking her petite hand in mine and shaking it.

“Yeah, I know. Everyone knows your name,” she said with a another cute giggle.

“Oh, right.” I said, with a nervous smile as I scratched the back of my head.

“You want some help? I can carry one of those for ya.” she said, easing the nervous tension with a smile.

“Oh, um yeah. Thanks.” I said, handing her the lighter of the two boxes.

“No problem.” she said, as we began walking with the boxes to my room.

Once we got to my room with the boxes I set them on the floor in my room, while Molly waited in the hall.

“Thanks for the help.” I said, meeting her back out in the hall.

“It was no problem. And it was nice meeting you. Come talk to me sometime. I’ll be eating dinner in the cafeteria around 6 if you wanted to come sit with me,” she said with that same cute smile from before.

“Uh, yeah, I may do that.” I said.

With that she walked away. Meanwhile I headed back out to mom’s car, so I could return it to her parking space. I drove the car back across campus as I thought about the girl. She was nice, and quite pretty. I would for sure take her up on her offer to eat with her. After all, I was getting pretty hungry. I parked mom’s car back in her spot and then brought her keys back to her. I didn’t bother to say anything to her, nor her to me. I just dropped the keys off and continued on my way to the dorms.

Back in my room I checked the time, it was only about 5. That Molly girl had said she would be getting dinner around 6, so I had an hour to kill. I decided to go ahead and unpack my things, my casual clothes I put in the dresser, and I had a few spare uniforms that I hung in the closet. I unpacked my computer from one of the boxes and set it up on the desk. In the other box was some sheets, a blanket, and a couple of pillows, I made up my bed and by the time I’d finished unpacking it was nearly 6.

I left my room and headed to the cafeteria. I grabbed a plate of food and looked for a place to sit. I quickly noticed Molly. She was sitting by herself. So I walked over and sat across from her.

“Hey, I was wondering if you were coming.” she said, greeting me.

“Yeah I got hungry.” I said, as I began to eat.

“Did you get everything unpacked okay?” she asked, looking up from her own food.

“Yeah,” I said.

We continued our small talk like that for a little while. She asked how I ended up in this school. I didn’t tell her the whole truth, only that I had gotten in trouble at my last school and they gave me the boot. I could tell she was still curious and wanted the whole story, but she didn’t press thankfully. As we continued talking, 3 girls walked up to the table, I prepared myself to be insulted by them, but no insults came.

“Hey Molly!” the 3 girls said in unison.

“Hey guys, have a seat.” Molly replied.

I deduced that they were friends of Molly.

“So who’s the guy?” one girl asked Molly.

“This is the new student, Alan.” Molly replied.

“Oh, so this is the male student I’ve been hearing about all day. Well, I’m Katie.” the same girl responded.

“And I’m Amanda.” one of the others chimed in.

“I’m Erin.” the last one added.

They all had friendly smiles as they introduced themselves.

“Oh. Well, as Molly said, I’m Alan. It’s nice to meet all of you.” I said, returning their friendly smiles.

“We’re all on the volleyball team together.” Molly said.

“Oh cool, I didn’t even know this place has a volleyball team.” I said.

“Well, you probably don’t know much about this place, do ya?” Katie said, with a giggle.

“I know, look at the way he wears the uniform.” Amanda chimed in with a laugh, pointing at my disheveled appearance, the other girls let out a laugh as well.

“Ah well, you know, just thought I’d make a fashion statement.” I said, try my hand at some humor and all 5 of us began laughing.

We all sat there talking and laughing for a few minutes when I decided to check the time. It was nearly 8:30, which was one of my scheduled shower times.

“Well ladies, I do hate to cut this short but I gotta get going. I’ll talk to y'all some other time.” I said, before getting up.

The girls all said goodbye, then I left. I quickly went back to my room, grabbed a towel, a change of clothes, along with a toothbrush and toothpaste, shampoo, and bodywash then went to the showers. The showers were empty as expected, Danielle, the RA, had already gone over this schedule with all the girls living in the dorm. I set my towel and clothes on the counter and put my shampoo, bodywash, etc. in one of the shower stalls. I then quickly removed my clothing and got in the shower. It felt good standing under the relaxing cascade of hot water after such a long and stressful day. But as I had only been allotted 15 minutes in the shower, I couldn’t relax too much. So I brushed my teeth quickly then washed my hair and body afterward. I then got out of the shower and began drying off. I put on a clean pair of boxers and athletic shorts I’d brought with me. I didn’t think to grab a shirt to take to the bathroom, besides the shower was just down the hall from me, so being shirtless for a few seconds wouldn’t hurt. I grabbed my dirty clothes, towel, and hygiene products and left the showers.

As I walked out into the hall, I noticed almost immediately that there were several girls out in the hall and they were staring at me, well my shirtless torso to be more precise. Now look, I’m not a muscle-bound meathead by any means, but I did have some decent muscles and noticeable abs from working out and stood at about 6'0. Plus, coming from a family of naturally attractive people, I was at least reasonably handsome myself, or so I’ve been told. I was just glad the girls weren’t staring at me in disgust for once, so I didn’t mind the attention as I walked back to my room.

Back in my room I put my dirty clothes in my laundry bag, then sat at my desk and turned on my computer. Luckily the dorms all had Wi-Fi so I was able to connect to the internet. I decided to check my Facebook to see what my old friends were up to. I saw that I had received friend requests from Molly, Katie, Amanda, and Erin. I accepted the friend requests then signed out of Facebook. I then turned on some music and went over to my bed to lie down.

I laid in bed listening to music and I thought about the day’s events. At first I dreaded having to go this school, but the first day wasn’t actually so bad, I did at least manage to meet a few intriguing girls. What an attractive group of girls, I thought. They were all seniors, like me, except they were actually supposed to be in this school, unlike me. Katie had dirty blonde hair that stopped just below her jawline and hazel eyes, she was certainly shorter and more petite than the other girls, standing about 5 foot zero, but had the more outgoing personality. Amanda had shoulder length flaxen blonde hair and light blue eyes, she had without a doubt the more curvy body type, her ample bust was noticeable even under that restrictive school uniform, and she’s about 5 foot 5. Erin had long dark almost black hair and brown eyes, I’d say she was the most average of the group, she stood about 5 foot 3 and while the other girls all had light tans of varying tones, Erin’s skin was a bit paler, not ghost white or anything but not tan either. Don’t get me wrong, Erin was plenty attractive too, she just didn’t stick out like the other girls did. Plus, she seemed to have a more reserved personality.

Being a teenage boy with raging hormones, I immediately began to think about whether I had a shot with any of these girls. But then I remembered how I ended up in this school and realized I should just suppress my own urges and forget about it, lest I get kicked out of this school as well. You see, that trouble I got into at my old school, it was those very same hormones. Those damned accursed hormones that led me astray. Long story short, I got caught having sex with a female student in the girl’s bathroom. Then as if that alone wasn’t bad enough, the girl’s parents tried to say I forced her to have sex with me and threatened to get the law involved. In the end they got a restraining order against me, I was banned from ever setting foot on the school’s property, and I was forced to leave the county completely. No one believed for a second that I was innocent and the girl&rsquo

Jenna, the Vicar’s Wife: Part 4

Sun, 03 Dec 2023 07:30:46 -0600

Her Mentula Cōleī Baptism

By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Christmas was fast approaching, and festive events were in full swing at St. Michael’s Church.

“Well not long to go until Jesus’ birthday,” Reverend Morris smiled as he and Jenna finished putting up their Christmas decorations. “Just two weeks. Which reminds me, there’s another very special person’s birthday a week before the festive season, ”

“Oh yes. I’d forgotten!” Jenna replied.

“Jenna my love, it’s your 21st! You can’t forget something like that. I want it to be a truly memorable birthday for you. Is there anything in particular you’d really, really like? Please give it some thought. Turning 21 is a milestone.”

“I will Simon. But I pretty much have everything I’ve ever wanted already,” she smiled, slipping her arms round him.

Later, Jenna was engrossed in reading something on her smartphone.

“Imagine that,” she whispered to herself.

Noticing her excitement, Reverend Morris became curious.

“What’s grabbed your attention, Jen?”

“ Mentula Cōleī Baptism,” she blurted out, without thinking.

Her husband looked confused. “Pardon?”

“Oh! It’s nothing. Just an old fertility rite of the Eastern Orthodox, in some Asian nations! The Japanese call it bukkake. The loose translation of ‘Mentula Cōleī’ is ‘cock & balls’. And it follows the Anglican tradition of sprinkling. Er, would you like a cup of tea?”

"Sure.”

Later, when Jenna was having a shower, Reverend Morris picked up his phone. “Bukkake, she said. How does one spell that, then?” He typed into the browser. Boocaka? Bookaki? Bukacay? On the third attempt, the browser’s autocorrect suggested the correct term.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s spelt. He clicked on a Wikipedia link. "Good God!” He spluttered, as he read all about the act. When he’d finished, he chuckled to himself. “You learn something new every day. The Internet never disappoints, ”

At the Wednesday Eucharist, Gordon had just finished the recessional hymn. The midweek service always had a lower turnout than the Sunday service, but numbers had been steadily increasing all year.

“Morning Gordon,” Reverend Morris said, appearing at the side of the organ.

“Oh hello vicar,” the organist replied. “Quite full today. I don’t know, the news says that Christianity is declining in this country but this church seems to be the exception.”

“It does, and that pleases me greatly. I can’t speak for all churches in England, but knowing that our community here at St. Michael’s is thriving, well it lifts my heart. I tend not to pay much attention to the news these days. Too depressing. Difficult times for so many. Strikes, cost of living and all that. Oh and England getting knocked out of the World Cup.”

“Mmm, yes,” Gordon nodded. “Couldn’t care less about football. I never watch it. Horse racing is my thing. How’s Jenna and Christopher?”

“Oh they’re both fine, actually I need to discuss something important with you, Gordon. Jenna’s 21st birthday is next week. I was wondering if you could help me with something?”

“Certainly, vicar!” He replied, switching off the light above the organ’s keyboards. “Happy to help in any way I can.”

“Okay, but not here. Come to my study right now, please.”

“Right you are,” Gordon said. He didn’t even have time to remove his robe and hang it up in the vestry. He was intrigued. The way the vicar was summoning him to the study sounded a bit ominous. He felt like a kid at school being summoned to the headmaster in order to receive a punishment. He meekly followed the vicar down the aisle.

“Close the door if you please,” Reverend Morris said, as he beckoned the organist into the study. Gordon did as he asked, and was surprised to find Josh the curate, Father Aiden, Bishop George and Norman Winstanley the new churchwarden all waiting.

“Eh, what’s all this, vicar?” Gordon exclaimed. “A lads-only party?”

“Gentlemen,” Reverend Morris began. “I’ve invited you here because you are trusted spiritual mentors; and trusted friends of mine. As servants of God, you all have your own important tasks to perform. Now what I am about to ask you, requires a great deal of trust. As good Christians, I wonder if you’ll be able to fulfil this very unique anointing ceremony a parishioner has requested.”

Father Aiden crossed himself. “I am always ready to do the Lord’s work.”

“Me too,” Gordon said. “And if there’s free beer included, well that’s a bonus!”

“Well this task concerns Jenna, my wife.”

The men in the study all fell silent. There was a great deal of shuffling feet and awkward coughs!

One week later,

“Where are we going, Simon?” Jenna asked, as he got into the car. She assumed they were going to a restaurant.

“The church. Just a little birthday surprise.”

When they arrived, Reverend Morris requested that Jenna close her eyes.

“Absolutely no peeking!” He said as he led her down the aisle.

“This is so exciting!” Jenna said. “Let me guess, the whole congregation of St. Michael’s are going to leap out and yell Happy Birthday, right?”

“Close, but no cigar!” The vicar replied. “Now, just sit on this stool, ”

Father Aiden was driving down the high street, on his way to St. Michael’s Church. His heart was pounding like crazy.

“I can’t believe I agreed to take part in this,” he mumbled to himself. “Lord in heaven, why am I doing this? Haven’t I sinned enough already?”

He fiddled with the car radio. Most of the stations were planning Christmas songs 24/7 now. Chris’s Rea’s Driving Home for Christmas started playing. This was the third time today he’d heard this song. Passing a Tesco Express store, Father Aiden decided he needed some Dutch courage before he could partake in the special “celebration” at the church. A cheap bottle of whiskey or gin would suffice. Parking up, he hurried into the store and walked straight into a woman who was loaded up with shopping.

“I’m so sorry!” He exclaimed, picking up the tube of gift wrap she’d dropped.

“Aiden?”

He froze and looked up. “Róisín?”

“My God! It is you! I can’t believe it!” the red-haired woman gasped.

“W-what are you doing in this neck of the woods?” Father Aiden said. “Did you leave Liverpool?”

“Sure did. I’ve jumped ship. I’m at the Living Earth Free Church now and I’m loving every minute. I’ve become a vicar, well they call us leaders. It suits me just fine. What about you, are you still with the Catholic Church?”

The priest looked awkwardly at her. “Erm, sort of. I’ve been fighting a conflict with myself these past couple of weeks.”

Róisín smiled at him. “You think your future lies elsewhere?”

He took a deep breath. “Maybe?”

She put down her shopping bags and took his hand. “I’ve never stopped thinking about you, Aiden. I know you broke things off because you couldn’t break your celibacy vows, ”

“Oh but that’s the thing. I fled Liverpool and moved to this town, and the first thing I did was to break my celibacy vows, ”

Róisín’s face fell. “Oh, so you’ve met someone?”

“Uh, No. It was just a, one-off. But it made me think that I’m just not cut out for a celibate life. And because of that, I can’t continue in my current profession.”

“Well you’re too attractive for that.”

A blush spread across the priest’s face. “Would you like to go for a drink?”

“Thought you’d never ask! Let me dump this stuff in the car and then I’m all yours!”

“Sorry Jenna,” Father Aiden said to himself as he slipped his arm around Róisín and they strolled into the town center. “But I’m sure you’ll have fun without me. Thanks for helping me see the light though.”

Jenna could hear muffled whisperings and several male voices. She wondered what was going to happen next. “Can I look yet?”

“No not yet,” Reverend Morris replied. “Just a sec, ” The vicar ushered Gordon, Josh, Bishop George and Norman in front of the altar, where several candles has been lit. “Where’s Father Aiden?”

“Guess he chickened out?” Gordon muttered. “Maybe he’s in a confession booth? Ha-ha!”

“Oh well, fair enough. It was a lot to ask, Okay Jenna, you can open your eyes now!”

Jenna opened her eyes, to see the organist, the curate, the Bishop, and the churchwarden all stood round her. Gordon was wearing his best suit and the black robe he wore when playing the organ, and

Josh was wearing his cassock and surplice.

“Oh my. Good evening, boys!” She said. “Are you all here to wish me Happy Birthday?”

“We certainly are,” Gordon grinned, rubbing his crotch. “We’re here to give you the most memorable birthday ever, eh chaps? As it’s a special one, and you’re a very special lass, Jenna!”

“Aww, you’re all so sweet,” Jenna replied, still not aware of what was about to happen. “I love being part of this church.”

“And you’ve brought so much happiness to it,” Reverend Morris said. Now it’s time for us to repay your kindness.“ He nodded at Gordon and the others. "Now don’t keep my lovely wife waiting, she’s eager to be baptized!”

“Huh?” Jenna blinked. “Baptized?”

Gordon volunteered to go first. He unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock. “Come on lads, don’t be shy, eh?” Seconds later, Josh and Bishop George did the same. Norman hesitated a moment, but finally followed suit and unzipped. Jenna’s mouth dropped in amazement as four delicious erect cocks were pointed right at her. She was too stunned to speak, and turned to Reverend Morris, who was standing back from the others, and also wearing church vestments.

“This is our 21st birthday present to you,” the vicar said. “A Mentula Cōleī Baptism.” It’s been part of early Assyrian Christian marriage ceremonies in Asia, to anoint a young bride’s womb, before the couple consummates. The church elders would meet with the couple after the public ceremony vows, to anoint the virgin.

“Oh, my, God” Jenna gasped. “Simon, how?”

The reverend simply put his hands together, as though in prayer. “I asked God for help in getting you the perfect present. He knows everything, you see. I’m just sorry that Father Aiden decided to opt out, and unfortunately the Archbishop of Canterbury was unavailable as he’s currently in Ukraine. John Wesley’s ghost, well one cannot book a last-minute appointment with the dead, alas. But I hope those of us that are here will satisfy you?”

Jenna licked her lips. “Hell yes!” She knelt down before them. “Oh Gordon, I see you’ve got an organ pipe that needs blowing,” she said as she pulled down his trousers and briefs and squeezed his erection. “Let’s see if you can hit the right notes.”

“I always hit the right notes,” he chuckled. “Especially when you’re playing my instrument, ”

“Umm. You’re an organist who always entertains,” she commented as she lowered her mouth over the end of his cock.

Jenna sucked on the head, tasting him as she ran her tongue over the sensitive opening, while pumping the shaft with her hand. She took more and more of his hardness into her mouth until she felt him hit the back of her throat. She relaxed and pushed on until she had his whole member in her mouth and she was nuzzling his silvery pubic hair. He groaned as he grabbed the back of her head and thrust into her mouth.

Reverend Morris watched in admiration and amazement as his wife expertly sucked the organist’s cock. Gordon was quite well-endowed, but that was no challenge to Jenna. Seeing her pleasuring another man like this had got him as hard as a rock. He massaged his erection through his cassock and surplice. Could she cope with more than one man though?

Josh was growing impatient, and his cock was desperate for attention. “Fancy trying some younger meat, Jenna? I think you’ve fully re-tuned the organist’s organ.”

“Don’t rush the lass,” Gordon sighed. “Wait your turn, lad!”

“I’m sure you can’t wait to taste it,” he said as he pushed his throbbing shaft in her face.

Jenna didn’t hesitate, she removed Gordon’s cock and Josh pushed his erection deep into her mouth. He grabbed her head and she began sucking him hard.

“Oh yeah! Praise the Lord! Oh I’m coming!”

“So soon?” Gordon chuckled. You younger fellas have no endurance!“

"Now now, enough of that,” Jenna said. Play nice.“ She unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her pert breasts. "Mmm, give me some cum, Josh!”

The sight of her tits pushed the curate over the edge and he erupted, glazing them with his hot seed.

“So delicious! Thanks so much Josh. What an impressive load. No longer shy I see! Like I said, you’ll make one hell of a vicar one day!” Jenna felt an intense tingling sensation of arousal and a moistening in her pussy. The crotch of her panties turned a darker shade of red as her nectar seeped out of her and soaked them. Reaching under her skirt, she began fingering herself.

“We vicars produce more cum, right?” Reverend Morris chuckled, jacking off in the background.

“Hell yes.”

“Organists produce a lot too,” Gordon interrupted. “Oh fuck, now I’m coming, Jenna, .oh!”

Jets of creamy white cum surged forth through the air from the tip of Gordon’s thick “organ pipe.” As the first of them struck Jenna’s pale skin she could feel the warmth of the virile seed upon her face. More strands of spunk splashed across her cheeks. A jet catching her on the nose quickly dripped down across her lips and chin and filled her nostrils with its tangy odor. Jenna could feel the thick sticky goo mess her red hair. Jizz ran down her forehead in rivulets joining the cum on her nose and cheeks or getting stuck in a gooey mess in her eyelashes. By now her eyes were closing somewhat as she reached her own orgasm. Letting out a mewling moan she came to the plastering of her face with the organist’s cum.

“Cum cantibus in choro. Cum canticis et organo!” Jenna yelled.

“I should know what that means, but I don’t,” Gordon panted.

“It translates as "let the organ thunder, let voice and organ sing.”

Gordon was smug, knowing that it was his spunk that had made her climax. “Latin is full of cum isn’t it? How marvelous!”

“Wow Jenna, I’m impressed.” Bishop George smiled, calmly presenting his cock to her. “You’re an expert at playing the pipe organ. But now I have a bishop for you to bash.”

“Right Reverend, it is an honor to get my hands on your crosier again,” Jenna said, pulling his trousers down.

“Bloody hell, are you wearing ladies’ knickers Bish?” Gordon interrupted, noticing the pink panties. “You kinky bugger.”

“High ranking clergy need to be comfortable under their cassocks!” Bishop George replied. “Ah, Oh my God!” Jenna gently took hold of his shaft with one dainty hand and began to stroke his length. At the same time her lips slipped down to his balls and she began to suck gently upon one of them. When she took the entire orb into her mouth the bishop groaned as he felt her tongue began to tease the tender flesh. He could scarcely believe that this was happening, that the parish vicar’s wife was on her knees before him sucking his pastoral staff in the church!

Jenna took care to alternate from one of the bishop’s plums to another as she stroked up and down his length with one hand. Droplets of precum had begun to escape the tip of his cock and she could feel them dripping down onto her forehead. She began to lick a wavy trail along the underside of his shaft moving her tongue from side to side as she worked her way towards the tip of his prick. When she reached the base of his head she opened her mouth, her tongue still touching his cock-head, and gripping at the base of his shaft she worked her hand down along his length forcing the precum out and straight onto her tongue.

“Wow,” Reverend Morris said. “She’s amazing. Taking the Bishop as well!”

“Blessed, ” Bishop George said, closing his eyes and putting his bony hands together. “Jenna, I anoint thee!” He may have been the oldest man of the group, but he produced a tremendous amount of cum. Jenna hurriedly cast off her sticky blouse, just in time to be baptized in Bishop George’s holy jizz. she almost wasn’t prepared for the huge volume of cum he released, and this was far from over!

“Oh dear Lord, Reverend!” She moaned, as the copious dollop of man-juice coated her face, breasts and belly, just about everywhere, mixing with the cum already released by Josh and Gordon. It was so viscous and creamy, fuck! Jenna was in ecstasy! She’d never imagined bukkake would be as good as this, and in the church, well that just made it even better! The candlelight reflected off her glazed breasts. It was all so overwhelming and she came a second time.

“Ready for some more, little vixen?” Norman the churchwarden said, offering his cock to her. “I’ll tell you a Frank Carson joke. So, an Englishman, an Irishman, and a Scotsman walk into a bar. The barman looks at them and says: "Is this some kind of a joke?”

Jenna giggled. “This cock of yours is no joke, Norman!” She grabbed it with both hands. “You’ve been good haven’t you? Keeping your hands to yourself?”

“I kept my promise. I’d like to get my hands on you though. I think you’d better slip out of that skirt. It’s already spunked up. Any chance I could squeeze that arse of yours?”

“I want you to cum all over my arse cheeks, Norman. Think you can manage that?”

“Is the Pope a Catholic?” Norman replied.

Jenna slipped out of her skirt and tossed it on a pew. Now she was wearing nothing except a pair of drenched red panties, and her high-heeled s

Jenna, the Vicar’s Wife: Part 3

Sat, 02 Dec 2023 07:30:58 -0600

Fellatio Rites for the Ghost of John Wesley

By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Jenna took a deep breath as she approached Oakwood Road Methodist Church.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you?” Reverend Morris asked.

She patted his shoulder. “I’ll be fine Simon. You don’t need to worry. It’s the ghost of John Wesley, not Jack the Ripper. This is exciting! I hope he’ll appear!”

“Right, well, I’ll be sat in the car then. I hope you won’t be too long. Remember, just turn and run the moment you feel in any way uncomfortable.”

“Reverend Morris, I think you’re scared!”

“No I’m not! I can’t help being concerned for the safety of the woman I love can I? Aren’t you a tiny bit nervous?”

“I’m as cool as spring water,” Jenna replied. “I was reading all about John Wesley last night. He was a true gentleman. I’m sure this won’t take long.”

Reverend Morris nodded as he watched his wife enter the church. “Well if anyone can fix this, Jenna can. I don’t know what she said to the Archbishop of Canterbury last week, but he changed his mind about the wall plaque faster than the Government does U-turns. I wonder what she said to him? Whatever it was, Justin Welby was impressed!”

He reclined in his car seat. “I was so lucky to meet Jenna. Of course, it was God who delivered her to me. That fateful Sunday morning in the vestry, oh.”

Father Aiden was walking along the street. Many things were on his mind. He had some important decisions to make about his future in the priesthood. Briefly glancing up from his smartphone, his heart jumped as he spotted Jenna entering the Methodist church across the road.

“Holy Mother, ” he muttered. A rush of excitement swept over him as he recalled the intimate encounter he’d enjoyed a few weeks ago. It was that which had spurred him to think about his future. He quickly crossed the road.

“Hello Father!”

The priest almost dropped his phone. Someone was shouting at him from a parked car.

“Oh, Reverend Morris. Hello there.” Damn, no chance of a repeat encounter, he thought. “I’ve just seen your wife going into the Methodist church.”

“Yes, I hope she won’t be long. I’m just waiting for her.”

“Are you alright? You look a bit anxious, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“It’s a long story, Father. I think you’d better sit down in the passenger seat and I’ll tell you. You’ve not heard about what’s been going on in Oakwood Road church have you?”

The priest looked confused. “Nope. Tell me more!” He opened the car door and sat down. I could do to unburden myself too.“

"Okay, well, this might sound a bit weird.”

“I can handle anything weird,” Father Aiden replied.

“It’s about ghosts. As a Catholic, what are your thoughts on them and have you ever seen one?”

Father Aiden thought about his answer very carefully. “Hmm. In theory, billions of ghosts potentially exist because billions of human beings have "lost” their bodies through death. Strictly speaking, these disembodied souls are not ghosts because they have never become discernible to any living people. Only those few souls whose presence is seen or felt by others are truly ghosts. And their existence is real.“

"So you’ve seen one?”

“Yes. Two actually. Once in Ireland when I was a child and another when I was based in Liverpool. I was called upon to rid a family’s home of a troubled spirit.”

Reverend Morris looked relieved. “That’s good to know.”

“The Old Testament also has a few ghost stories. The most famous one is in 1 Samuel 28:8–20. Here the inspired writer tells how King Saul met with the ghost of the prophet Samuel.” Father Aiden replied. “Have you seen a ghost?”

“Yes. And not just any ghost, but the ghost of John Wesley! He’s haunting the Methodist church. That’s why I’m here. Jenna’s gone in there to try and help him return to, the other side.”

“Oh I see, then she must, wait, what?” Father Aiden did a double take.

“Thanks for coming’ along Mrs. Morris,” Reverend Ewing said, shaking Jenna’s hand. “I know you probably think this whole thing is crazy.”

“Not at all! And call me Jenna. I’m a true believer. If my husband says that you and he saw John Wesley, then I know it’s true. But why does John want to see me of all people?”

“Your hubby mentioned that your grandma is a Methodist?”

“Uh yeah. Bit of a tenuous link. Like Sir Henry Barrington-Smythe’s horse.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, never mind. Figure of speech.”

“You Brits and your little quirks!” Reverend Ewing laughed. “I’m still getting used to ‘em!”

“You said John usually appears in the vestry?”

“Uh-huh. Can be anywhere in the church, but he seems to like the vestry best.”

“Right, well go and wait in there and say a few prayers, and see if he appears. I’m not sure I can do anything, but I’ll try my best.”

Jenna entered the vestry. Everything looked perfectly normal in there. She closed the door and looked around.

“It always comes back to the vestry,” she smiled to herself as she recalled when she first got to know Reverend Morris.

Suddenly, the row of gowns on the rail began to swing on their hangers. The temperature dropped, and Jenna rubbed her arms.

“Are you there, John?” She called out.

“Yes.”

She spun round. There was no sign of the spirit. “Hey, come on, show yourself at least. It’s no fun talking to the invisible man.”

“My sincere apologies,” John replied, and slowly faded into view. For the first time, Jenna was taken aback. “My God, you really are John Wesley, ”

He nodded and bowed. “Bless ye, for am so honored you hath come here. If I may be so bold to say, you be a lady of great beauty my dear.”

“Very kind of you to say, Mr. Wesley.” Jenna said. “Why are you back in the land of the living? Aren’t you happy in Heaven?”

“Ah yes,” he began. “Happier than mortals can ever imagine. But you see, I feel compelled to return to this realm every All Hallow’s Eve. I like to re-visit the places where I worshipped back when I was alive. And it was in this very place where this church now stands that I preached to crowds back in the autumn of 1778.”

“You’ve got a lot of places to visit in just one night,” Jenna said. “I read all about you. You travelled all over England spreading the Word of the Lord. Plus you went to America, the colonies, when you were younger.”

“Indeed I did, yes. To my regret, I lingered a little too long here, for I found myself unable to return to the afterlife. The sun had started to rise, heralding All Saint’s Day. Thus, I am trapped here in this church until next All Hallow’s Eve. Only a tremendous release of positive energy could allow me to return before then.”

“Oh dear. May I ask why out of all the people in the world, you wanted to see me? What can I do? My gran is a Methodist. Is that the reason?”

“No Miss Jenna. It was your aura that attracted me. It’s very strong. I believe God himself must’ve embodied you with some sort of innate goodness that allows you to help people.”

“You’re making me sound like some kind of saint! I assure you I’m just a regular human being. I’m not particularly gifted in anything, although I do try to be a good person, ”

John had a rather dreamy expression on his face. “You remind me so much of Grace Murray, a lady I loved and lost, only you be far prettier than her.”

It was then that Jenna had an idea. A huge grin spread across her face. She’d read all about John Wesley’s life and how unlucky he’d been in love. “A tremendous release of positive energy, you say? I think I know something which may cause that!”

John put his hands together. “You do? Pray, do tell, my dear.”

“You need to experience an orgasm. What could be more positive than that?”

He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Oh you know, ” She tried to think of a period-appropriate phrase so he’d understand. “The end act of carnal relations?”

He blushed. “Oh. Miss Jenna I be a man of God. I don’t see how, ”

Jenna sank to her knees. “Only one way to find out, John!” She paused. So he’s a ghost. I’ve never pleasured a ghost before. Isn’t he composed of just gas? He’s quite cute, for someone who died in 1791! I wonder if,

She reached out to touch him, and expected her hand to pass right through his body, but it didn’t. He jolted at her touch.

“Don’t worry John. I’ve done this before, many times in fact. It’s a great honor to be able to do it to you. I’m sure this will help you.”

The moment of first contact had arrived. Jenna let one hand gently glide ever so slightly over John’s thigh, encased in tight black breeches. Reaching out with the other hand, she ran it over his crotch, feeling an impressive bulge.

“Oh my! I feel strangely warmed yet again!” John sighed.

Jenna fumbled with the buttons on his breeches, being more used to zippers. Something large and splendid lurked within. Either that or he had a Bible stuffed down there. “My God!” she gasped, as the Methodist’s member was revealed. The short, slightly-built John Wesley was hung like a horse!

“How on earth were you so unlucky in love?” Jenna exclaimed.

“Mostly the ladies deserted me long before I even reached the bedchamber,” he mumbled.

“Well I’m not deserting you.” She wrapped her lips around his cock head and swirled her tongue for a bit before plunging all the way down his shaft. He emitted a deep and low groan.

Jenna slowly bobbed her head along his shaft over and over, with her hands grabbing his thighs for support. He moaned in pleasure with each and every stroke of her soft and warm mouth.

“Oh dear God,” he whimpered. “Your mouth. It feels amazing.”

It was clear that poor John Wesley had never experienced a blowjob before, not in life, nor the afterlife, and Jenna instantly felt very generous to be giving him this incredible gift. His breathing was erratic, and she sensed that he had already reached a point of near-climax, and was doing everything he could to fight it off.

Jenna’s expert mouth slowly bobbed up and down his shaft. She then paused at the bottom and held his huge shaft completely inside her mouth, all the way to the back of her throat. She reached through his legs, grabbed his arse, and pulled him toward her in an attempt to get him even deeper into her throat.

“Uh!” he moaned. “I’m not going to last much longer. I fear I shall spend!”

Outside the vestry, Reverend Ewing paced back and forth, wondering what the strange groaning noises were all about.

“The hell is going’ on in there?” She said out loud.

Jenna slowly slid her mouth back over his shaft and removed him from her mouth. She wore the naughtiest smile, and John could tell she was thoroughly enjoying this as much as he was. She took his cock into her mouth once more and slid her tongue back and forth along the underside of his shaft. He responded with another moan, louder and more urgent than before. She removed him once again from her mouth and looked toward him with a smile. the faint silver light surrounding John was more radiant than before.

“Are you ready to spend?” She asked, looking up at him from her knees. John was so overwhelmed, he couldn’t speak. He simply nodded his head and grunted.

“Then I want you to come for me,” she said. With that, she slid his wet cock back into her mouth. Once again she reached through his legs to grab his arse and pull him toward her, and she began to furiously fuck him with her mouth. He placed his hands on the back of her head and thrust himself into her mouth, over and over, filling the vestry with the wet sound of fellation.

Jenna began moaning, and her muffled moans seemed to push John over the edge. With her mouth still filled with his cock, he stopped his thrusting and gave a loud groan. His body tensed and shook, and Jenna did everything she could to swallow his massive load, but it was too much. Some of his thick cum leaked from the corner of her mouth and splashed down the front of her pink top.

“Ah!” John sighed, his eyes closed in ecstasy. Thoroughly satisfied, he cried out in joy. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

Pleased to have completely drained him, she removed his cock from her mouth. His cum was delicious. Ghost cum tasted just as good as that from a living man.

All at once, a pillar of light surrounded John.

“Ah! I’m free once more! You’ve freed me Jenna! I can’t thank you enough! I can return and be at peace!” He began to rise up into the air. “I hope we shall meet again sometime! Farewell and God bless!”

Jenna stood up and wiped her lips. “Godspeed, John! Oh! Just one more thing, next time you visit, can you bring your brother Charles along?”

Reverend Ewing was about to knock on the vestry door, when it suddenly opened.

“Oh! Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine. You can reopen your church. John’s spirit is at peace once more.”

“For sure? He’s really gone? But how?”

“I just said a prayer for him. Told him how much his teaching continues to inspire people to this day. That seemed to satisfy him and he just faded away.”

“Well thank you so much, Jenna,” the reverend said, shaking her hand. “I’m so glad it’s all over. It was really stressing me out! and I’m so happy that John is at peace in the Lord’s kingdom again. Oh, what’s that on your clothing?”

Jenna looked down and was mortified at the huge globs of cum. “Oh dear. It’s, candle wax. I didn’t realize it had spilled. I must get going now, Reverend Ewing. Simon is waiting in the car and he’ll be getting worried.”

“Of course. Thank you again, and give my regards to Simon!”

When she’d gone, Reverend Ewing looked round the vestry. “Hmm, strange. There are no candles in here.”

The lecherous church warden meets his match.

After peace was restored to Oakwood Road Methodist Church, and the spirit of John Wesley successfully liberated, Jenna and Reverend Morris turned their attentions to this weekend’s Remembrance Sunday service. This was always a major event, and the people would be crammed into St. Michael’s like sardines.

“I’ve finally completed this special sermon,” Reverend Morris said, handing Jenna his iPad. “Have a read and tell me what you think. I included your suggestions about the importance of teaching the younger generation about those who died in wars. Also the bit about Winston Churchill being a flawed figure. Good suggestion, that. As human beings we are all flawed in some way.”

“It looks fantastic. Let me grab a coffee and settle down to enjoy this!”

“I hope it won’t come across as too boring. You know I always get paranoid about my sermons. So many churchgoers dread a long sermon!”

“Your sermons are always fun and relevant, Simon, You’re too hard on yourself.”

The mild-mannered vicar smiled. “Aww, thanks! Oh and I hope Norman Winstanley behaves himself this weekend. I had to have a quiet word with him during the Wednesday morning service.”

“The new churchwarden? What’s he done wrong?”

“Well, as you know, he took over from dear old Albert who died last month. He’d previously been at St. John’s, but sadly, that church has closed for good and is being demolished. Such a shame. It was a great church back in the day.”

“Very sad when a church dies. What are they building in its place?” Jenna asked.

“An Aldi supermarket. Anyways, about Norman. He’s sixty-five and a terrible lecher, to put it plainly. Some say he’s Sid James and Benny Hill cranked up to eleven. He didn’t get nicknamed Carry On Norm for nothing.”

Jenna was immediately intrigued. How come I’ve never noticed this guy before? She thought. “Ooh. So he likes to ogle young women does he?”

“Yes, but not just young! I’ve seen him staring at the legs of older women too. Last Sunday, I caught him perving at Mrs. Wilcox when she was doing the flower arranging. And she’s about eighty! Though I admit, she does have nice legs, for someone er, so mature.”

“Naughty boy. At least he’s not ageist.” Jenna said. “He needs to get on OnlyFans.”

Reverend Morris couldn’t help but laugh. “You always try to see the best in everyone! Well just looking is one thing, but Norman has built up a bit of a reputation for being a qualified pincher of bottoms. I won’t tolerate that sort of behavior. It’s completely unacceptable. I’m surprised he’s avoided getting into more trouble, to be honest.”

“Is he married?”

“No, widowed. Took early retirement too. Has far too much time on his hands. And we all know that the Devil makes work for idle hands, ”

“So true,” Jenna nodded. “He makes bottoms for idle hands to pinch. "I don’t think I’ve seen Norman. What does he look like?”

“Well he wears glasses and he’s the spitting image of Frank Carson.”

Jenna blinked. “Who?”

“Heh, I keep forgetting the age gap between us. Frank was a Northern Irish comedian. He’s dead now. My dad was and still is a massive fan of him. He used to go and see him on stage at Blackpool in the 1990s.” Reverend Morris looked up a picture of the comedian on his phone and showed it to her.

“Ok. I’ll keep an eye out for Norman this Sunday!”

“If he tries anything with you, tell me at once!”

“Oh don’t worry. He wouldn’t dare,” Jenna replied, smirking to herself, an idea already forming in her mind. Naughty Norman. I can’t have a churchwarden with wandering hands threatening Simon’s church. I’d better get my hands on him before he causes any more trouble!

As expected, the Sunday service was very well-attended. Jenna had arrived early, as she wanted to sit in a specific place r

Jenna, the Vicar’s Wife: Part 2

Fri, 01 Dec 2023 07:30:41 -0600

Dinner with the Archbishop of Canterbury

By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

On Monday afternoon, a letter arrived at the vicarage that took Reverend Morris by surprise.

“I don’t believe this!” He gasped, reading the letter out loud to Jenna. “It’s from Bishop George. He says that Justin Welby, the Archbishop of Canterbury is planning to visit next week.”

“Whoa, ” Jenna spluttered.

“Yup. You and I have been invited to dine at Bishop George’s place. Apparently the Archbishop is visiting several dioceses, and parish churches, and for some bizarre reason, humble little St. Michael’s church has caught his eye! Bishop George states that I’ll be receiving a letter from the Archbishop over the next few days, outlining the reason for his visit.”

“Wow, what a tremendous honor for you, Simon!” Jenna smiled, flinging her arms around him. “Well you’re the best vicar ever, so he obviously wants to give you some sort of award!”

“Hmm, maybe?” Reverend Morris re-read the letter. “This is totally unexpected, and a bit bizarre. I can’t get my head round it.”

“I remember seeing Justin Welby give that speech when we were watching the Queen’s funeral.” Jenna said. “And to think, we’re going to get to meet him! This is really exciting!”

“I wish I shared your optimism my love, but I can’t help but thinking that there’s a catch.”

A few days later, Reverend Morris’ fears were confirmed when a second letter arrived.

“I don’t believe this!” The vicar lamented as he read the Archbishop’s letter. “It has come to the Archbishop’s attention that there is a big plaque in St. Michael’s church that commemorates a local man called Henry Barrington-Smythe, who died in 1695 and worshipped at the church. According to the covert research conducted by the Archbishop, Henry once owned a horse that he sold to someone whose second cousin twice removed, was involved in the slave trade.”

“I can see how that could be seen as quite triggering in this day and age,” Jenna said. “But I’m sure the horse wasn’t bothered.”

Reverend Morris slapped his forehead. “Oh this is a nightmare. The Archbishop recommends that the plaque is removed. It’s not that simple though. It’s actually carved into the wall, near the organ pipes. To remove it, would cause terrible damage to the wall! Our little church is so old, and we’ve worked so hard to fundraise to repair the roof.”

Jenna narrowed her eyes, seeing how distressed her husband was. This situation needed rectifying immediately.

“Simon, try not to worry. When we dine at Bishop George’s place, you will have the chance to put your point across to the Archbishop. Has he made this information about the plaque public?”

“No,” Reverend Morris replied. “To be honest, I know hardly anything about this Henry Barrington-Smythe chap. I Googled him once, and information was really scarce. Nothing on Wikipedia. A few obscure paragraphs on the parish register. He was vicar here during the 1670s and left a lot of money to the church in his will.”

Jenna smiled. “Oh good. So what we have here is a controlled situation.”

“For now. I expect he’ll tweet all about it after the meeting.”

We’ll see about that, Jenna thought to herself.

The day of the meeting arrived. Reverend Morris anxiously fiddled with his clerical collar and kept checking his watch. Nearly time to set off to Bishop George’s house.

Presently, Jenna came breezing into the sitting room, where her husband stood, gazing out of the window at the front garden beyond. In a pale pink gown, pearl cross earrings, and her red hair swept back, she looked more suited to a red carpet event in Hollywood than a sober meal with the clergy.

“Do I look alright?” She asked, knowing full well what Reverend Morris’ response would be.

“Oh my God, wow, you look absolutely beautiful as always, Jenna. Right well, we’d better get going.”

“Try not to worry, Simon.” She said, kissing him. “It might not be as bad as it seems.”

He sighed. “St. Michael’s church means so much to me. I treasure its heritage. You and I, we’ve both worked so hard to build up its congregation, raise money to restore the roof, the stained glass windows and to fix the dry rot in the vestry.”

“And we shall continue to treasure it. Don’t you worry. Things might turn out alright. I’m sure an acceptable compromise can be reached.”

“I hope so.”

They headed to the car. A plan was forming in Jenna’s mind. Justin Welby isn’t the best-looking of men, she thought. Mind you, I don’t plan on looking at his face,

Bishop George was stood at the door of his home when Jenna and Reverend Morris arrived.

“Great to see you both!” He smiled. “Can’t say I’m happy at what the Big Boss is proposing here.”

“You and me both, George,” Simon sighed. Jenna winked at the bishop.

“Right, do go in, make yourself comfortable, there are refreshments waiting. Dinner shall be served at six. Bishop Finch was supposed to be here too, you remember him? Alas, he cried off. Dishonest and he drinks. Good bishops are so hard to find these days, eh?” Bishop George ushered him in. As Jenna walked past, he winked back at her.

“I’ve got your red lace panties on tonight,” he whispered.

“A great choice!” Jenna whispered back.

Reverend Morris sipped a sherry as he nervously awaited the Archbishop’s arrival. Five minutes later, there was the sound of a car door being slammed shut, and Bishop George could be heard welcoming someone.

“He’s coming,” Reverend Morris gulped. “Why do I feel like a little kid about to be sent to detention?”

“God is with us,” Jenna replied, patting his thigh.

Bishop George entered the room. “It is a great pleasure to welcome our Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, to dine with us this evening. Jenna and her husband stood up.

"Oh good, he’s come alone,” Jenna smiled, fearing that his wife might have accompanied him. He was clad in a grey jacket, with black shirt, black trousers, a clerical collar and a large cross round his neck.

Everyone shook hands. “Ah, Reverend Morris,” the Archbishop began. “The vicar of St. Michael’s. Nice to meet you at last.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. And this is Jenna, my wife.”

Jenna was quick to offer her hand. “I’ve wanted to meet you for such a long time, Your Grace. You’re sitting next to me at the table!”

The vicar’s young and stunning wife had certainly caused the Archbishop to raise an eyebrow. “Am I? Well lucky old me. I am very honored!” Privately, he was astonished that the mild-mannered vicar of St. Michael’s had managed to pull such a gorgeous woman. He was normally immune to such things, but found himself rather shamefully gawping at Jenna’s cleavage.

“What a mercy she wasn’t at the Queen’s funeral,” he said to himself. “If she’d been sat in the crowd, I’d have struggled to concentrate.”

The pre-dinner conversation between Reverend Morris, Bishop George and the Archbishop remained cordial, if not a bit overly formal. While the three men spoke, Jenna was a constant figure at the Archbishop’s side; laughing at his unfunny jokes, pretending to enjoy his boring stories of ministry in Africa, inquiring about Westminster Abbey, and generally hanging on his every word like an infatuated student with her tutor.

Bishop George suggested his guests seat themselves at the table in preparation for the first course. The Archbishop took his seat. On his right was Jenna, and Reverend Morris was opposite him.

“Bishop George is such a good cook, Reverend Morris prattled nervously. "I’ve dined here before and his roast dinners are something to marvel at. I, I enjoy cooking too.”

Sensing her husband’s discomfort, Jenna cut in. “He’s a much better cook than I am. Most things I cook aren’t suitable for human consumption.”

The Archbishop chuckled. “Let us say a prayer before we dine.”

The first course passed without incident, but Jenna was hungry for something else. The Archbishop had launched into a lengthy monologue about hurtful plaques and statues, and Jenna sensed it was time to act. Bishop George was in the kitchen and Reverend Morris excused himself as he needed to go to the bathroom. She was alone with the leader of the Church of England, the ceremonial head of the worldwide Anglican Communion. Now was the time for the vixen to catch her prey.

“You’ve done so many impressive things during your tenure, Your Grace. Words cannot explain how much I admire you,” she continued, flattering him off the scale.“

"Why thank you Jenna. "I appreciate your kind words!”

Jenna continued. “Your Grace, I ask you as a good Christian, would you not consider dropping this little investigation into this pesky old plaque in my husband’s church? Your letter has caused him a great deal of worry, you have no idea how much, ”

The Archbishop adjusted his glasses. “Jenna, I have no wish to cause any distress to your husband. I am simply trying to ensure that our C of E churches are inclusive to all, and devoid of harmful imagery.”

He had been quietly sipping his soup. Suddenly, a strange sensation made him almost drop his spoon. Something was moving up his right leg and pushing his legs apart, the mystery thing continued to rise higher, now it was nudging his inner thigh, he realized it was Jenna’s hand.

“Are you enjoying your soup?”

“Um, Jenna, what are you doing?”

“As I was saying, your letter has stressed my husband out so much, that he and I have been unable to make love all week. Can you imagine how upsetting that has been?” Jenna continued, furtively sliding her hand across his thigh and squeezing gently.

The Archbishop glanced down and then at her. “Um, well I’m very sorry to hear that.”

She smiled back and began rubbing his inner thigh very gently. He cleared his throat and blushed. She said nothing, but continued gently rubbing, and moving closer to that treasure she wanted to touch most of all.

“Do you realize what you’re doing? I am a married man!” He whispered.

“I do, but you pride yourself on having a liberal outlook, yes? Anyways, there is a holy place I would very much like to explore, if I may be permitted to do so, if I may be so bold as to request permission from Your Grace, ”

“You are, a rather naughty vicar’s wife,” he whispered back, feeling his cheeks flushing.

“You haven’t granted permission, Your Grace.”

The Archbishop took a deep breath. Why was he giving in to temptation so easily? If he refused, would she kick up a fuss? Bishop George and the vicar could return at any moment.

“Mrs. Morris, you may do as you wish. I am yours to explore, ”

This was all the permission she required. Before the Archbishop could complete his sentence, Jenna reached across the startled man’s lap and quickly unzipped his trousers. He could not believe the dexterity and speed at which his beautiful assailant nimbly accomplished the task. He shot an astonished wide-eyed glance at the temptress seated next to him. Guessing his thoughts, Jenna flashed a mischievous smile and said, “Your Grace. I heard that there’s a name for a bishop’s staff. It’s called a crosier. Am I right?”

“Er, yes. That’s right.”

Jenna swiftly freed the Archbishop’s staff from his white boxer shorts. He may not have been the most handsome of men, but he had a gorgeous cock. It wasn’t a monstrous length like Father Aiden’s or thick like Gordon’s, but it was impressive all the same. Definitely holy!

The Archbishop’s back stiffened and he caught his breath as he felt Jenna’s soft, warm fingers wrap around his engorged fuck pole. The touch from this ravishing young beauty in the most sensual of spots sent chills throughout his body. He suppressed a gentle moan in the back of this throat as Jenna began to slowly run her hand up and down the shaft.

She knew to vary the speed of her up and down motion, and could sense when the Archbishop was reaching peak ecstasy. Before he could achieve sexual release, Jenna slowed her pace or altered the movement in order to delay gratification. She wanted the Most Reverend’s pleasure to extend for as long as possible. Jenna explored every feature along the length of her newest conquest’s fleshy sceptre. Her delicate fingers rippled over the veiny surface, massaged the soft foreskin, and gently squeezed the head. When she reached the shaft’s base, the eager filly worked her slender digits along the Archbishop’s inner thigh and cupped his balls, juggling them with her fingertips.

“Your Grace, I beg of you. I want to go further and worship properly. However I cannot do this unless you agree to scrap your suggestion that St. Michael’s remove its plaque to Henry Barrington-Smythe. Let him and his horse rest in peace, yes? Neither of them kept slaves. I’m sure Henry sold his horse in good faith and had no idea what links the buyer had. A few years ago I gave my old smartphone to a woman at work who turned out to be a massive fan of Cliff Richard. Some might say that was a crime against humanity.”

The Archbishop was desperate to come. Sweat had broken out on his forehead and his glasses were steaming up. “Okay, you have my word,” he sighed. “I’ll scrap the whole thing!”

“Thankyou, .dear Justin!” She said, using his Christian name for the first time. Carefully, Jenna removed one of her earrings. The Archbishop had to stifle a gasp as she slid out of her chair and under the table. “God,” he murmured, almost incredulous at her conviction and boldness. Then with almost no hesitation, she dropped her head and closed her mouth around his throbbing shaft.

The Most Reverend’s breathing started to become more rapid and shallow, an indication Jenna recognized as signaling her oral exertions would soon be ending. Wanting to provide the head of the church with the greatest amount of pleasure possible, Jenna’s grand finale was to deep throat his cock and vigorously jerk up and down on it. This motion had the desired effect within moments, as a muffled groan escaped the Archbishop’s mouth. Jenna felt the holy rod in her mouth recoil as it shot a mighty stream of pearl-colored ejaculate down her throat. This first round was quickly followed by a second and then a third as the Most Reverend’s balls unloaded their thick, milky contents. Jenna swallowed and savored every drop. It is a truth not universally acknowledged, that the taste of a man, especially a man of God, is the finest taste in the world, she thought. A final spurt missed its target and splashed down her cleavage.

Only after the last discharge was launched and the Archbishop leaned back in his chair exhausted and sweaty, did Jenna finally withdraw.

The Archbishop jolted in panic as Bishop George and Reverend Morris returned to the dining room. He quickly poured himself a glass of water and swallowed it. He wondered how to warn Jenna, but she’d already sensed it was time to return to her seat.

“I’m sorry I was so long,” Reverend Morris mumbled. “Call of nature and all that.”

“And silly me, I forgot to turn the oven up, but worry not, the roast beef is nearly ready!” Bishop George replied.

“Understood,” panted the Archbishop, wiping his glasses.

Bishop George tilted his head at his Jenna’s empty chair, and the movement under the table. He raised the tablecloth.

“Oh I say, Jenna. Have you lost something?”

“Just my pearl earring,” she calmly replied. “But fortunately, I have now found it.”

Bishop George nodded and gave a wry smile. “So I see. And you seem to have gained a pearl necklace too!”

A Ghost Appears at the Methodist Church

“What are your thoughts on ghosts, Jen?” Reverend Morris said as he climbed into bed.

Jenna reclined next to her husband, and ran a finger through his chest hair. “Hmm, never given them much thought. I keep an open mind. I’ve never seen one myself, but I’d like to! I wouldn’t be scared. Just really fascinated.”

“I might get to see one tomorrow. I’ve just had a rather desperate email from Reverend Marsha Ewing over at the Oakwood Road Methodist Church. She’s at her wits end. Says her church has been haunted by a persistent ghost ever since Halloween. She’s tried walking around splashing holy water on the walls, saying a prayer of deliverance, but to no avail. The church has had to remain closed all week.”

“Whoa, that ghost must really like the Methodist church then!” Jenna said. “I haven’t been in there since I was a little girl. My gran is a Methodist. I remember going to a few services. I remember it being light and airy inside, with the white balcony and pale yellow walls.”

“Well it’s not just any old ghost that’s taken up residence there. Reverend Ewing is adamant says that it’s the ghost of John Wesley.”

“What, the John Wesley? The founder of Methodism?” Jenna blinked.

“Yes. That’s the bit I find really hard to believe. Not saying that Reverend Ewing is lying of course. I just can’t understand why John Wesley of all people, would choose to return to this earthly realm. I mean, he was a true servant of God, a good man, who preached to the masses and led a long, pious life. Why would his soul suddenly become restless and earthbound?”

Jenna was fascinated. “Maybe he didn’t choose to return. Maybe someone or something lured him back, and he’s got trapped somehow? Don’t they say on All Hallow’s Eve, the barrier between the dead and the living is broken and the dead can pop back for a visit? Or something?”

“Good theory!” Reverend Morris replied. “Wesley did visit the site where the Oakwood church now stands. The church wasn’t built until Victorian times, but he preached out in the open in the 1770s. The very spot where he stood is marked by a bronze statue of him. Anyways, Reverend Morris has decided to ask other members of the clergy for help. She’s asked me to go along to the church tomorrow. Hopefully two vicars are better than one, and we can help John to return to the other side, so to speak.”

“Shouldn’t Father Aiden be called along too? Like in the Exorcist?”

Reverend Morris laug

Jenna, the Vicar’s Wife: Part 1

Thu, 30 Nov 2023 07:31:14 -0600

A sequel to “Jenna Goes to Church”

By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

A sequel to “Jenna Goes to Church. More fun with the ever-horny Jenna and the good chaps of St. Michael’s church and beyond!

At the Vicarage Social, Jenna meets an ordained Priest.

A full year had passed since Jenna Fox had started attending St Michael’s church. During that time, she’d carried out God’s work and in the true Christian spirit, brought much happiness to several male members of the church, thus helping them to become better Christians. In her new role as a vicar’s wife, she finds there are still many other men of the church in need of guidance,

Reverend Simon Morris and his wife Jenna were holding their annual November social at the vicarage. November always seemed such a depressing month, when, after the initial excitement of Guy Fawkes Night, nothing much happened. Christmas was still a little too far away, although the shops had been selling festive stuff since September. It got earlier every year.

The usual members of St. Michaels church were in attendance, Gordon Leesmith the church organist and choirmaster, Josh the curate, Bishop George, Yulia et al, plus a few new faces from other churches that Jenna hadn’t seen before.

Jenna was wearing a low-cut, black velvet dress and a diamond encrusted cross necklace. A couple of times, she caught a tall, serious-looking man in the corner of the room staring at her. He quickly averted his eyes when she looked at him.

"Wonder who he is?” The chap was clad in black and wearing a clerical collar, so evidently a vicar or priest of some kind. She knew most of the clergy at the local churches, but had never seen this guy before.

Gordon was circulating, and on the hunt for a toilet. Beer always went straight to his bladder.

“Great atmosphere Jenna,” he said, winking at her. “You look lovely by the way.”

“Why thank you,” she winked back. “You look rather fine yourself. That navy blue suit, Umm. We need more men in suits. Down with casual dress I say!” The organist still turned her on, despite her offloading him onto Yulia’s willing friend Martika. “A shame Martika couldn’t attend tonight.”

“Yes, she’s been struck down with flu. Been in bed all week.”

“Aww.” They looked at each other. Gordon’s face bore an expression that was pretty much screaming, “I am unbearably horny and really need a fuck right now, I know you’re the vicar’s wife now but I still fancy you like crazy and miss your lips on my cock, ”

“Er is there a downstairs loo here?” He said. “There’s a queue for the upstairs one and I’m bursting for a pee.”

“Afraid not. Hard to believe in a house this size I know. There’s always the back garden. Plenty of bushes and it’s dark.” Jenna replied, and tossing him a crumb of hope, added. “I might join you out there later.”

Gordon’s face lit up. “Okay. Thanks!”

Jenna scanned the living room. Presently, her husband appeared. “Nice to see so many guests. I didn’t think so many would turn up!”

“I know, It’s great!” Jenna couldn’t help but notice that there were way more male guests than female ones. “I wonder why that is?” She grinned to herself. “By the way, who’s that guy in the corner over there? He looks like he’s at a funeral rather than a vicarage social. His face could turn milk sour.”

Reverend Morris looked. “Oh. That’s Father Aiden. He’s a Catholic priest. Only been in this neck of the woods for a few weeks. He’s taken over at St Gregory’s. Prior to that he was based in Liverpool. Huge Irish community there of course, and I believe he was born in Dublin.”

“Can’t get more stereotypically Irish, can he?” The name, the look: Father Aiden had black hair, pale blue eyes and a bone-white complexion. His hairstyle struck Jenna as being somewhat old-fashioned, with sideburns.

“He’d be good at playing a vampire. Why’s he looking so miserable? Is it because he’s in a Church of England vicarage?”

Reverend Morris laughed. “Ha! No, my love. All denominations are welcome at this vicarage, we’ve got the Oakwood Road Methodist guys here too and the Living Earth Free Church. From what I’ve heard, Father Aiden is just a very serious man. It’s just how he is. He’s probably enjoying himself, even though he looks miserable.”

“If he’s a Catholic priest does that mean, ”

“Oh yes. Vow of celibacy.”

“That’s the real reason he’s miserable then!” Jenna replied.

“Indeed. Whilst I respect his vows, personally it’s something I could never adhere to!”

“Nope. You like pussy too much, Rev.”

“Jenna, shush! You’re making me blush!”

“I’m right though.”

“You know I can never get enough of your pussy,” the vicar whispered in her ear. “I must go and mingle, before I get another hard-on.”

Jenna sensed the moment was right to get to know the mysterious Father Aiden a bit better. The priest was currently being bored to death by an elderly woman from St. Michael’s who was lamenting the state of modern Britain.

“, And like I keep saying, this country went to the dogs long ago. Useless, lying politicians, rising crime, rising cost of living. Unbridled filth peddled on every street corner. I imagine, Father, coming from a big city like Liverpool, this small town must seem like paradise to you. Don’t be fooled! County lines are a big problem! And the local park. Would you believe it? It’s become a dogging hotspot, ”

Father Aiden said nothing and just nodded patiently at her. Sensing he needed rescuing, Jenna cut in.

“Sorry Mrs. Grimes, can I just interrupt and borrow Father Aiden for a minute? I need to discuss something.”

“Oh be my guest,” the pensioner replied. “He’s not got a lot to say.”

“Probably because he couldn’t get a word in,” Jenna muttered under her breath as Mrs. Grimes shuffled off. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Jenna, Reverend Morris’ wife. Nice to meet you, Father Aiden.” She held out her hand, and he reluctantly shook it.

“Hello.” The priest spoke at last, in a thick Irish accent, his dour expression unchanging.

“You look rather trapped. Too many people here for your liking?”

“A little.” Father Aiden replied. He looked extremely uncomfortable in Jenna’s presence. “I’m still, finding my feet around this area.”

“I’m sure you’ll settle in just fine, Father. Have you tried any of the buffet? My husband’s a great cook; he’s made some great cakes and, ”

“Maybe later. I, I would appreciate a cup of tea if possible.”

“Oh no problem. Why don’t you take a seat in the snug? You’ll find it more relaxing in there. Less chatter.”

“Thanks.” He skulked off. Jenna took a deep breath. “Blimey, what a cold fish. I’d get better conversation out of a statue. Still, early days. With a little bit of help, he’s bound to open up sooner or later.” Far from putting her off, Father Aiden’s stern exterior only served to fascinate Jenna further. And the fact he was a celibate priest, .hmm. That couldn’t possibly be good for him, could it?

Moments later, she brought him a cup of tea. “Here you go,” she said, putting it on the side table by his chair and taking a seat opposite him.

“Thanks, Mrs. Morris.”

“Jenna, please.”

He twitched. “Jenna.”

“I’ve never met a Catholic priest before,” Jenna said, and Father Aiden straightened in the chair and braced himself for the usual questions he was always asked, usually concerning vows of celibacy. He swallowed as he noticed how close Jenna was to him.

Damn. She looks so much like Róisín, but even prettier. I can’t believe this.

“Well, we’re not that rare,” he mumbled, sipping his tea.

“I know very little about the Catholic church,” Jenna continued. Nobody in my family is Catholic. Mostly Church of England, and a few Methodists, “

"I’m sure your husband can help you with any questions you might have,” Father Aiden said, and Jenna wondered if this was his polite way of saying “please leave me in peace.”

Pretending to be upset, Jenna stood up. “I, I’m sure you’re right, Father. I’m sorry for bothering you.” She hurried out of the snug.

Alone at last, Father Aiden smacked his forehead. “Why does this keep happening to me? Why do I always end up saying the wrong thing?”

“Definitely a lot of issues with that one,” Jenna smirked to herself. A couple of chips on both shoulders methinks. I’m not giving up on the good Father though. Maybe in time, he’ll soften a little.“

Gordon had successfully relieved himself on the rose bushes in the vicarage’s back garden. "Ah, that’s better. I’m sure those plants needed a good watering,” he muttered, zipping up his trousers. Hearing the back door opening, he spun round.

“Hi there,” Jenna smiled. “It’s a bit cold out here, Gordon. You’ll be getting a chill in your organ pipe.”

“Umm. I was hoping you might be able to warm it up.”

Jenna glanced round and took him by the hand. “In that case, come with me, ”

In the garage, Gordon’s face flushed red with lust as Jenna leaned against a car, hiked up her dress and slipped her hand inside her drenched black panties. Her aroused smell met his nose and made his stiff cock throb more than ever. Already his pre-cum was leaking out. The fact that she was now the vicar’s wife, was turning him on even more.

“Oh God, Jenna. You always know what buttons to press,” Gordon groaned, as she ran her hand down his crotch, cupping his bulge.

“Don’t you mean which stops to pull out?” She teased, unzipping his trousers. “Your cock is like the Wurlitzer organ in Blackpool Tower. It’s always rising.”

“Ha-ha. That’s why it needs you to play it,” he chuckled. Jenna ran her hand down the front of his y-fronts. “Ooh, I’m not the only one here who’s got damp undies!”

Gordon groaned again. Jenna pulled out his cock and squeezed his balls. As she groped his manhood, she realized just how wet with pre-cum it was.

“Nice and sticky, just how I like it.” She knelt down and teasingly licked the head of his cock before putting it in her mouth.

“Umm yes!” Gordon hissed as the vicar’s wife began giving him a good blow. He’d remembered just how brilliantly Jenna was at giving blowjobs. Back during that day in church, she’d given him some superb head.

Jenna withdrew and reclined on the bonnet of the car. She rubbed her neatly-trimmed bush of pubic hair and Gordon knew what she wanted him to do. With just one finger at first, the organist began tracing circles around the outside of her wet pussy. Jenna moaned, enjoying the attention, but wanting more. Sensing this, Gordon spread her pussy lips with his finger and pushed inside her, spreading her walls and began to fuck her with it. Then he lowered his head. Very slowly at first, teasing her into a state of desperate pleasure, he tongued her, savoring her juices.

“Oh Gordon!” Jenna screamed. She began moving her body in time to his motions, trying to get his tongue to go even deeper. Then without warning, Gordon stopped his treatment, as he felt her hand brush against the head of his prick. “Slide your organ pipe in,” she purred, knowing he got such a kick from these corny phrases.

“With pleasure!”

Positioning the tip of his dick right up against her wet opening, he slid inside her and was soon thrusting with vigor.

“Umm, more Gordon! Yes!”

He continued pumping her hard and fast, pulling almost all the way out and then slamming his dick all the way back in. He grabbed her hips to steady himself, still fucking her rapidly. Then their coupled bodies convulsed ferociously, and Gordon’s pulsating member filled Jenna’s snatch with his cum.

“Here endeth the organ lesson,” Jenna said, planting a kiss on his lips.

Gordon kissed her back. “Oh thanks Jenna. I enjoyed that immensely.”

“And you really needed that!” She replied, adjusting her clothing. “It’s not good for an organist to have so much cum building up like that, there might be a risk of a ruptured bellows.”

Gordon zipped up his trousers. “Far worse than trapped wind!”

They both laughed. “We’d better get back to the party. I’ll go first, okay?”

Jenna headed out of the garage. As she walked round the side of the house, she almost walked straight into Father Aiden.

“Oh!” He recoiled in shock. “Mrs, er, Jenna.”

“Father Aiden! You made me jump! Don’t tell me you’re looking for a downstairs toilet too?”

He blinked. “Um no. I was, er, I wanted to apologies for earlier. I was very rude. Whatever must you think of me? You being the vicar’s wife and all.”

“I’d say you’re a chap who’s just finding his way in a new place,” Jenna smiled. Even in the dark, his watery blue eyes seemed to be staring right into her soul. “Anyways, apology accepted!” Before he could say another word, she planted a kiss on his cheek. “Would you like another cup of tea, Father?”

Father Aiden clutched his chest as though he’d glimpsed Satan himself. A look of horror on his face.

“What’s the matter?” Jenna said, glancing back at him. “My tea isn’t that bad is it?”

The Priest is caught masturbating

“Holy Spirit, come into my heart and show me my sins. Give me a proper spirit of repentance and the grace to make a good confession. Give me your peace that I might not be anxious but rather trust in your abundant mercies.”

Father Aiden said a prayer to himself. He was anxiously sitting in his confessional, awaiting the arrival of any lost sheep who were in need of his guidance. Here of all places, he needed to be focused on his job as a priest, yet his mind was on other things. Last night, he’d attended a gathering at St. Michael’s vicarage. He hadn’t really wanted to go, as social events made him uncomfortable, but had gone along to show willing. It had been his first social since he’d left Liverpool.

It had all been going well until he’d met the vicar’s wife, Jenna. The woman had shocked him to the core. She reminded him so much of Róisín, a twentysomething woman whom he’d developed feelings for back in Liverpool. He’d come perilously close to breaking his celibacy vows with her, they’d kissed passionately a couple of times in the confessional booth, until Father Aiden’s nerves and guilt finally got the better of him and he’d pushed her away. Feeling it best to move on before things developed into something more serious, he quit his post and requested to be moved elsewhere. He’d narrowly avoided a scandal.

Father Aiden was thirty-five, and had been a priest for eight years now. He recalled his early years, growing up in a small village near Dublin. As rigidly as he’d stuck to his celibacy vows since joining the priesthood, Father Aiden was no virgin. As an eighteen year old, he’d been an altar boy at his local church, and lost his virginity to Sara, a much older married woman who was a member of the congregation. They’d enjoyed passionate romps in the confessional booths, in the vestry, just about everywhere. Sara had a very high sex drive and didn’t get any from her dull husband. Then a nightmare situation. Sara had fallen pregnant. Aiden’s world had been rocked.

In their strict Catholic community, even the thought of getting an abortion was out of the question. Aiden had resigned himself to becoming a young dad, but then just as he was starting to like the idea, fate intervened and Sara suffered a miscarriage. He didn’t think it would have affected him so badly, but it did, and he blamed himself. It had been a punishment from God. From that day on, Father Aiden made up his mind to become a priest, much to the delight of his parents.

However, much as he tried to bury any sinful urges, Father Aiden struggled. After Róisín, he hoped he wouldn’t be attracted to another woman, but now he’d seen Jenna Morris, and been immediately smitten.

“Dear God, help me not to be so weak in body and mind. I must cast out these sinful thoughts.”

He was interrupted by the sound of someone entering the confessional.

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.” A middle-aged man said. “It’s been a week since my last confession.”

Father Aiden composed himself and did his duty as a priest.

Jenna grinned as an Amazon delivery van pulled up outside the vicarage.

“Oh good. It’s arrived. That was quick.”

Reverend Morris was coming down the stairs as she was eagerly opening a parcel.

“What do you think?” Jenna said, holding up a nun costume.

“Ooh sexy. That’ll turn heads at the church hall’s fancy dress party next month! How very naughty and sinful. Better hope that Father Aiden doesn’t turn up to that, eh? Might prove a bit too much for him! Talking of which, would you mind calling at St. Gregory’s and dropping off that book he wanted to borrow?”

“No problem,” Jenna replied. She picked up the paperback. “The Seeker by S G Maclean. Oh, he’s into historical fiction is he? Well good to know he has other interests.”

Reverend Morris started laughing. “Heh, I don’t know how I coped when the curate made that joke to him at the social. I know Josh had had way too much to drink but, dear God, I could’ve died when he started going on about Catholic priests lusting after choirboys.”

“What? I must’ve missed that! It must’ve been when I was f, er, talking to Gordon.”

“Yes. Father Aiden didn’t see the funny side at all. I don’t think Josh will even remember what he said to him. Anyways, I had to apologies!”

Jenna couldn’t help but snigger. “By the way, who are you going to dress up as for the party?”

“Haven’t decided yet. You once said I looked like Prince Edward, perhaps I should dress as up in Royal robes and get a crown? Anyways, I must get going. I’ve got a meeting with Bishop George. What a busy week. Christopher’s coming round tomorrow.&rdquo

Marlene’s Academy of Fellatio

Wed, 29 Nov 2023 07:31:11 -0600

Marlene Starts a Blowjob School -

Single Women Seek Instruction In Fellatio Arts. (group sex)

By TheDoctah. (abridged) - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

We finished the wine bottle, well what else were we going to do with it? My wife’s straight-laced friends were getting giggly. The four of us had been having a good time.

“SPIN THE BOTTLE!” they shouted at once, before dissolving into giggles.

“You want to play spin the bottle,” I asked. “How’s that going to work? I notice that there are three women and one guy at this party, and the guy is married to one of the women. Or have you all gone gay all of a sudden?”

Marlene, my wife, spoke up. “No, honey, we have not gone gay. And I don’t want you having sex with these disreputable sluts, I mean, my best friends. But it’s true, you’re the only boy at the party.”

I looked at her two friends. Loraine was tall, a dishwater blond with a slim body, and Roxy. Roxy was a short, buxom Italian cutie who could not help flirting, no matter what.

“OK,” I said, “What’s the idea then?”

“Seven minutes of heaven,” Roxy interjected, and everybody took a sip and laughed.

“With me,” I wanted to make sure I was understanding this.

"Well duh,” Marlene said. “We already told you we’re not going gay. And you’re the only male person here.”

I gave her a sharp look. “And you’re okay with this,” I asked her.

"Sure,” she said. “It’s just a game. And I am pretty sure you’ll have a good time.” Understatement of the year. All three women were grinning at me. I asked, “How does this work?”

Roxy said; “whoever it points to, they go into the closet for seven minutes and do anything they want. Then they come out and somebody spins the bottle again.“

Marlene: "And since there’s one of you, just us girls will spin it, and see who goes in the closet with you.

Marlene & I have been married a long time, and I trust that Marlene, same as me, has not been with anybody else for years. Loraine and Roxy were two of my wife’s best friends. But I had never even flirted with either of them.

The ladies were seated on the floor. Marlene held the bottle dramatically out in the middle of their circle, looked at both her friends, and gave it a fast spin.

It stopped, pointing at Roxy. She’s not the shy type but you could see her take a big swallow.

"Well, Roxy.” my wife said. “You get seven minutes of heaven with Jacob.”

“Yeah,” Roxy said, “You’re sure this is okay?”

“Absolutely,” Marlene said. “But look, how about a rule? No fucking in there, okay?”

“Okay.” “Okay.” Loraine and Roxy said.

“Unless it’s me,” Marlene quipped, and they all giggled.

Roxy said, “Okay, here goes.”

Now in the hall closet, my ears were ringing, my hands were shaking, my dick was hard. And with Roxy. Are you kidding me?

I said, “What are we supposed to –” but Roxy grabbed my head and pulled my face to hers in the dark and opened her mouth and attacked my mouth with her tongue. “Here. let me help you;” she reached behind herself to unsnap her bra and voila, those beautiful breasts fell into my eager hands.

She was stroking my cock through my jeans. I could have shot a load right then. I pushed my fingers between her legs and she spread them to let me stroke her over the thin fabric of her pants. Her fingers outlined my penis as they slipped up and down its length, and then we heard a voice call, “That’s six minutes!”

Roxy giggled and broke our kiss, reached behind herself and put everything back. I stepped back, hoping my erection would subside before the door opened.

“Okay, time!”

I turned the knob and pushed the closet door open. Loraine and Marlene were sitting on the floor looking at us. I could see Marlene trying not to look at my face too closely, she was dying of curiosity but covering it well.

“You ready for the next spin,” Marlene asked me. I felt she was taunting me. My cock at least was not trying to bust my zipper any more.

"Sure,” I said. “I win every round.”

“Yeah, you do,” the ladies agreed. Another sip of wine, more laughter, and Marlene took up the bottle again.

“What happens if he gets the same person twice,” Roxy asked.

"I don’t see what’s wrong with that,” Marlene said.

“Well it doesn’t seem fair,” Roxy said. “I mean, I’m all for going in there again, but it wouldn’t seem right to leave you two sitting out here waiting that long.”

Loraine agreed, and Marlene seemed to see the sense of it. She said, “Okay, so the next round it will just be me and Loraine.” Marlene gave the bottle a twist and let it go and it finally stopped, pointing at my wife.

“Huh, that’s ironic,” Marlene laughed. “I mean, a guy making out with his own wife, it seems kind of weird.”

“Let’s try it,” I said, taking her hand. We went into the closet and I kissed her. “I hope you’re having fun,” she said.

“Are you kidding,” I laughed.

Marlene dropped to her knees and in two seconds she had my belt unbuckled and my pants pushed down around my knees. "Hey, is that allowed,” I asked. She wrapped her lips around the head of my cock and took several slurps. Then she looked up at me and said, "Yes, it’s allowed. I am, after all, married to you.” She took a couple more nibbles and said, “And also, it’s not fucking.” Then she put her lips around my cock and sunk her nose down into my pubic hair, deep-throating me and doing something with her tongue on my shaft. She began bobbing up and down on me, slurping and giving me pleasure in ways she had learned after years of marriage. She was an expert cocksucker, I must say.

“Now, be careful,” I said. “You don’t want to make me cum.”

“Why not,” she asked.

"Because I’ll want to stop the game,” I said.

“Good point,” she said, as she attacked my penis with her mouth, always stopping just when my breathing turned to moans. She used her hand alongside her lips and kept me on the brink until someone called, “Six minutes.” I helped her to her feet. She kissed me and said, “And don’t you forget it.” I could taste the cum in her kiss, definitely a sexy flavor.

“Oh, I won’t,” I said.

A minute later I opened the door and we stepped out. The other two looked at us, again, with curiosity. Marlene and I both smiled at them, and Marlene said, “Well I guess I’m not included in this round.” She sat on the couch and Roxy moved to the floor, across from Loraine.

Loraine took the bottle in her hand, but Roxy said, “Lori, you’re the only one who hasn’t gone in the closet with him. Maybe you ought to just go.”

“That wouldn’t be fair,” Loraine said. “It wouldn’t really be a game, would it?”

"It seems fair to me,” Roxy said.

“I’ll spin it, and we’ll see what happens,” Loraine said. With a flick of the wrist she sent the bottle twirling on the carpet between the two of them. All of us watched, fixated on it, imagining possible outcomes. The bottle slowed and came to a stop pointing at Roxy.

“See,” Roxy said. "It’s me again. That isn’t fair.”

“Sure it is,” my wife said. “That’s how you play.” She gave Roxy a significant look, almost daring her to take this game past the limits.

Roxy stared back at her and then stood slowly. “Okay,” she said, “I won this round.”

“Yes, you did,” Marlene said with a laugh. “You and Jacob won this one.” Honestly, it seemed like Marlene wanted it to get out of hand.

Roxy and I went into the closet and I pulled the door shut. She whispered, “She didn’t finish you off in here, did she?”

“No,” I said. “Close, but no.”

“Good,” Roxy said, and her hand went immediately to my cock, which was already hard in anticipation. We began making out as she jacked me off through the denim of my jeans. I stroked her crotch and she reached down and unbuttoned her cotton pants. “Here, I’ll make it easy for you,” she giggled. Her pussy was soaking wet when my fingers got under her panties. I squeezed again, and then began rolling her clit between my fingers slowly, until she arched her back and stifled a profound grunt, buried her face against me and spasmed uncontrollably for half a minute.“ She was laughing when she stopped. "Oh my god,” she whispered. “It has been a long time.” She renewed her attack on my cock and had me near the edge when they called six minutes.

I’m sure I looked like I’d been hit over the head with a hammer when we came out. Marlene looked at Loraine and said, “Enough of this, it’s your turn. I get him every night.”

“Huh, good point,” Loraine said. “Okay, we’ll pretend we spun it and it landed on me.”

“Sure,” Marlene said. She picked up the bottle and set it on the floor pointing at Loraine. “There you go. Have fun.”

Loraine said, “What have you guys been doing in here? I don’t know what to do.”

“We can do anything you want to do,” I said. “Except fuck me.”

She stood there.

“Come here,” I said, and I put my arms around her and kissed her, and she kissed like a schoolgirl. I used my tongue to pry her lips apart, and after a minute or so she got the idea. I ran my hands over her body and she responded coyly.

She ran her hands over my upper body and whispered, “Is it okay if I touch you?”

“Absolutely,” I said. I was not sure what she meant but I liked the sound of it. “I would love that.”

Then she surprised the shit out of me by unbuckling my belt, pulling my pants down, and pulling my cock out. She ran her fingers over it, slowly jacking me off, tugging and stroking. I said, “That is amazing.”

“You like that,” she said.

"Yes. A lot. You better be a little careful or you’re going to make me cum.”

“Wow, really?” She didn’t seem to believe me, and continued stroking me.

After a couple of minutes of that I said, “You better stop. It was just too good.”

“Too good,” she laughed. "Too good?”

“Yes,” I said, “If you keep going, the game will be over.”

“I see.” I kissed her some more and we made out until they gave the alarm.

The other two studied us as we came out. Loraine looked kind of embarrassed and flustered, but happy.

“How was it,” Roxy asked, tactlessly.

"It was great,” I said.

“Yes, it was great,” Loraine said.

“You still able to keep playing,” my wife taunted me.

"Yes, absolutely, I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” I said. “Let’s have a sip of wine and rest up for the next round.”

Loraine said, “I was scared at first. In fact, I was glad when the bottle never pointed at me. I thought I’d get out of doing it, going in there with Jacob, I feel much better now. But it was a little awkward. I never know what to do.”

“Never,” Marlene asked.

"Yes,” Loraine said, “With guys. I mean, I just let them do what they want, and that seems to make them happy.”

“What would you want to do,” Marlene asked. We were all feeling the intensity of the evening and the wine.

"I don’t know,” Loraine said. “I just don’t know how to do anything.”

“We all feel like that,” Roxy said.

“Really,” Marlene said. "I don’t think I feel that way, unless I’m missing something.” She turned to Loraine, “Do you mean you don’t have orgasms?”

“No,” Loraine seemed to be blushing. “No, I’m okay with that. But I don’t know how to do anything.”

Marlene gazed at her. “Oh, I see.” We all took a thoughtful sip of wine, wondering where this was going. Looking at Loraine she continued, “So you don’t feel like you are kinky enough or something?”

Loraine looked at the floor. “No. Like a blow job, I know girls do that all the time but I don’t know how to do it.”

Marlene laughed, almost spitting out some wine. “Oh, well, that’s easy. You just need to practice.”

“Yeah, sure, with who?”

Marlene spoke up. “Okay, I said no fucking, remember?” Everybody nodded. “But I didn’t say no blow jobs.” Hearts were pounding. Marlene looked at Roxy. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how to give a blow job either?”

Roxy said, “I’ve tried it before but I don’t think it really worked.”

Marlene stood up and paced around the room. “Well this is ridiculous. Jacob, you see what we have to do here. You are going to have to teach my friends how to give head.”

Marlene laughed. “Sex school. Girls, it’s time to learn the tricks of the trade. I don’t know about you using our bed.” She thought some more. “Oh well, why not? I’ll burn some sage or something. Why don’t you & Loraine go into our room, Jacob do your best to show her what to do.”

Roxy said, “What about me?”

Marlene looked at her. “Yeah, what about you? Well, tell you what, Jacob see if you can get through a 7 minute lesson without blowing your load, think you can do that, honey?”

I nodded. Marlene went on: “Okay, Loraine, then Roxy. Is that okay?”

Roxy didn’t look extremely happy with the deal but she agreed to it.

Loraine and I went into the bedroom. I turned on the closet light and turned off the overhead. “How are we going to do this,” I asked.

"I don’t know,” she said, “You’re teaching me.”

“Yeah, okay. So you don’t know how to give a blow job, that’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you ever tried?”

“Yeah, a couple of times.”

“And what happened?”

“He just wanted me to stop.”

“Okay, so first, let me see what you do. We are going to get into the bed. Actually we’ll both get naked.”

We lay in the bed, her head on my arm, against my chest. My cock was pointing. I said, “Okay, well this is a little awkward but we’ll do what we can. Why don’t you go down on me and show me what you do.”

I felt her lips touch the tip of my cock and then something, maybe she was licking it. Her lips took an inch or so of me and went up and down a few times.

“Okay,” I said. “I see where we’re at. Let me tell you a couple of things to start with. First of all, when I come, I want you to swallow it. Have you ever done that?”

“Swallow what,” she asked.

I thought for a few seconds. "Here’s the deal, if you are doing this well, the guy is going shoot a load of sperm into your mouth. I’m going to try not to today, but I mean in real life. I don’t know what it tastes like, it might be a little salty I think, but whatever, when he cums, swallow it like it is the finest Belgian chocolate, whether you like it or not. Gulp it down and lick up the last drops. You got that?”

“I can’t imagine that but yes, I hear you.”

“But we’re not going to do that now. I’m just telling you, if you are going to give a good blow job you’re going to swallow it. Now, to get practical. There are two things that guys find irresistible. There is a little notch under the head of my penis, I’m circumcised, but I suppose everybody has this, that’s called the frenulum. Look closely at it. See where it’s like the two halves meet, right under the tip? That is extremely sensitive. Touch that with your tongue and you will drive a man crazy.” I held my cock in place so she could see it from a few inches away.

“Yeah, okay, I think I see where you mean.”

“Good. Do it.”

Oh my god, she did that. After two seconds she stopped. “No,” I said, “Keep doing it. Lick that part of me lightly. You have to be gentle there. It is very sensitive.”

I kept bouncing away from her and had to tell her to grip my shaft. I was moaning, I could have blasted right then.

“Okay, good,” I said, “Now you have to stop. Oh my fucking god. Stop!” She stopped.

“There is one other major skill. And I’ll tell you, most girls can’t do this and it’s okay if you can’t, but it’s good to try. It’s called deep throating, have you ever heard of that?”

“I’ve heard the term,” she said.

“Do you know what it means,” I asked her.

"No. I mean I can imagine but not really.”

“Okay, well you see my cock is about average length. But still, if you tried to stuff it all in your mouth you would probably choke on it. Go ahead, try.”

Loraine leaned over me and took me into her mouth. She got pretty far and began to gag.

“So here’s the deal,” I said. “You can learn not to gag. Maybe not right away, but if you can get a guy’s cock down your throat he will do anything you say. He will be your slave for life. Go ahead, try. Go as far as you can, then relax and see if you can go a little farther. If you start to gag, back up a little and try again. Just try to relax your throat.”

I lay back on the pillow with my hands behind my head, watching this slender cutie working on my cock. She would get half of it and begin to choke, and start again. She was actually making progress. Finally she had reached her limit, and it was time to move on.

“Okay, good,” I said, “Stop. You were getting good at that. The two best things for a guy are one, licking his frenulum, and two, getting your lips around the base of his cock. But deep-throating is hard. In general, the main technique you will use is just fucking him with your mouth. You want to try that?”

“Sure,” she said. “What do I do?”

“Well wrap your lips around the middle of my shaft, not too far down, you don’t have to choke for this. Now tighten your lips and move your mouth up to the tip of my cock. Then move it back down to the middle, maybe a little farther if that’s comfortable. Keep going up and down like that. I think sometimes when you are near the head of it, you can work on the frenulum for a second, too, like with your tongue. Try it.”

Holy shit! Her lips were snug and she began working on me methodically. I knew I had to save something for the next lesson but I would have been very happy to blast a load down this woman’s throat, skipping right to the last lesson. She was blowing me like a pro. Finally I said, “Okay, stop. Stop Loraine, that is amazing. Let’s take a break for a minute.”

I caught my breath and then said, “Okay, let’s try it again. Say you were on a date and a guy invited you in and you want to make an impression on him. Show me what you’d do.”

She got up and walked around the bed and came up between my legs. Taking my cock in her hand, she looked up into my eyes and touched the tip of her tongue to the underside of my cock. She licked lightly until I could not watch any more. I was moaning and panting. Then I felt her lips surround my cock and proceed down the shaft until she had me down her throat. I could not open my eyes, but I’m sure she had the whole thing. She held that position for a few seconds and then began fucking me with her mouth, up and down on my shaft, devouring me until I literally pushed her head away and shouted, “No, stop, you have to stop.” She came and lay beside me again and I told her she was a wonderful student and I hoped we could have some more lessons in the future.

She thanked me for teaching her, then said, “Well it’s time for Roxy to learn.” There was no jealousy in her voice. It sounded like she was eager for her friend to learn this valuable lesson, as she had.

“Yes,” I said, “Roxy’s turn. Can you go send her in? You were an A student, by the way, that was wonderful.”

Loraine gave me a passionate salty-tasting kiss, with tongue this time, and a hug, and she hopped up, pulled her clothes on, and hurried out the door, calling Roxy.

I lay on my back, panting. I was appreciating my crazy wife more than anything. I always knew she was adventurous but she was also traditional in so many ways, she would not risk her marriage. I never would have imagined this.

Roxy came in with a wine glass in her hand. She paused in the doorway, then pulled the d

Sexy Liason With Eye Candy

Tue, 28 Nov 2023 07:30:41 -0600

Fun with sexy single mum makes me envy of other dads.

by BritPop - Listen to the podcast at Steamy Stories

I was dutifully dropping off at the school gate and I was all ready to make my home. I was in no rush. I had recently split with my wife. She kept the house and belongings along with a new fella. I had rented myself a tiny flat, all I could afford. I wasn’t pleased with the situation but I had brought it on myself by having a fling with a colleague. A one night stand that had turned into one night too many and we had been spotted. Her husband had forgiven her indiscretions; my wife had not. Ah well. Back to the tiny, lonely house as I had a few days off work. I had no plans and no money to spend, even if I did have anything planned.

“Hi. How are you doing?” I turned around and was surprised to see one of the other mums, Candy. When their wives weren’t listening, most dads had nicknamed her “Eye Candy”. However, when their wives WERE around, most dads kept their eyes averted from this particular mum if they didn’t want to pay the price later with an ear bashing about ogling. My own wife would be particularly vocal if she saw me so much as look at Candy’s fabulous, single mum body. Many a time I had done one double take too many at one of Candy’s particularly flattering and body-revealing outfits and I had had hours of ear ache about “eyeing up that slut.”

In fact my initial thought when she spoke to me was panic before I suddenly realised I was free to let my eyes roam wherever I liked. And my eyes did like roaming over the white boob tube and very mini mini skirt very much indeed. She was standing very close and I have never been so pleased to be a tall man. I got an excellent view down the boob tube at a superb pair. I am unashamedly a tit man and Candy’s jugs looked to be top of the class. I relaxed and allowed myself to be flattered that she had chosen to speak to me.

“I was so sorry to hear you had split with your wife. You must be devastated.”

“Oh…erm…” I quickly tried to drag my thoughts away from those tan titties and what I would like to do with them. “Oh yeah…well, you know…it’s been really tough… but we’re trying to…” Man, that was a short skirt. What delights would I find if I just lifted that hem a couple of inches? “Yeah, we’re..um…trying to keep everything as civilised as we can…”

“That is such a mature attitude. I really admire you.” She moved even closer and touched my arm. I could smell her perfume. I could even smell her shampoo. Better than her smell was the fact that the movement of her arm towards me caused those boobs to jostle and jiggle slightly. My mouth was watering. I wasn’t feeling mature - I was feeling like an 18 year old kid getting hard seeing all the top heavy girls in their bikinis at the local pool.

I cleared my throat to make sure my voice came out normally and didn’t give away how I was feeling. “Thank you. It helps to talk to someone. I don’t suppose I can give you a lift home?”

“If you’re sure it would be no trouble?” she replied. None whatsoever, I thought to myself. It had been a long time since I had enjoyed female company and I was enjoying hers way more than usual. I also enjoyed the other dads giving me covert looks of jealousy as I escorted her to my car. The ones with their wives just gave me quick “Lucky bastard!” glances while the dads on their own unashamedly stared, wondering how in the hell I had managed to get myself into a situation where Eye Candy was getting into my car.

I have never felt so glad to have been in the jeep.

“Watch your step up there,” I said.

“Ooooh, I need to get my balance!”

In order to do this, she parted her legs in her high heeled sandals, reached over and “steadied” herself by holding on to the other side of the passenger seat. It was an unusual method but, I have to tell you, it worked for me. It meant that she was a foot up in the air, bending over in a mini skirt and high heels with her legs apart. I could see her red lace panties, her very shapely arse cheeks and the bulge of her pussy lips, peeping between her legs. And she took quite a while to steady herself, wriggling her round arse to do it. Finally, and to my immense disappointment, she climbed into the passenger seat and I closed the door.

I walked slowly round to the driver’s seat, trying to get the contents of my trousers under control. I knew my bulge was visible but no red-blooded male could have seen that sight and kept his dick under control. Those panties were a red rag to my bull.

As we drove to her place, we both discussed how lonely it could be not having a partner in your life.

“There are so many things I miss,” she told me, opening and closing her shapely legs just a little.

I was sure I wasn’t misreading the messages. Candy was coming on to me and believe me, I wasn’t going to be playing hard to get. When we got to her house, I made sure I was a gentleman and raced round to open the door for her. This time, her legs parted considerably as she swung them round to get out and I stood well back to give her room. Also of course to make sure I could see right up that skirt. Mmmmmm, that bulge in those panties suggested lovely swollen pussy lips If I wasn’t mistaken, I detected a wet patch too. God, I hoped I was going to get a chance to find out.

She invited me in for a drink and I said I thought I should be OK for time… Her house was great, with a pool. I was so glad I hadn’t taken her to mine. She fixed me a cold drink and we sat next to each other on the sofa and talked some more about how lonely our lives were. She leant forwards a few times to touch me on the arm - and also give me a great view of those stupendous knockers.

Finally she went to wash up the glasses. I decided it was time to make a move and if I got my face slapped, I would chalk it up to experience. I moved close behind her as she had her hands in the soapy water. I murmured in her ear that maybe we could help each other with our loneliness. She pushed back her mini skirt coated arse and rubbed it in a circular motion against the bulge in my trousers. I needed no further encouragement. I slipped my hands under the boob tube and slowly lifted it over those titties. The elastic caught slightly on her nipples making her jugs bounce gently up and down. As I have said, I have been a tit man all my life but they were the best pair I had ever seen and all natural.

I dipped my hands in the foamy water then began a slow, slippery massage of them. When I thumbed her nipples, her knees nearly buckled and she held onto the sink for support. I continued to indulge myself for a while, lathering more suds onto those beauties and letting my hands slide all over them, then lifting them up, feeling their formidable weight and then letting them drop, soap suds spraying into the air. Finally I turned her round and suckled each tittie slowly (pleasantly lemon-flavoured from the dish washing liquid), bringing each teat up to its full potential then licking and flicking it with my tongue. She had her arms round my shoulders and was moaning and groaning in my ear, telling me how wet I was making her and I don’t think she meant the soap suds.

Her hands slid down to my body and unbuckled my belt. She slipped her small, slender hand inside my pants then led me by my stiff cock back to the living room and sat me on the couch. She straddled me, staying up on her knees and slowly fed me one of her titties while she began to massage my man meat. It felt unbelievably good after so many weeks and I groaned through my mouthful of tit for her to keep doing it just like that. I was a little worried I was going to disgrace myself and come as quickly as an 18 year old, especially when she spat on her hand and continued her slippery, slow pumping.

I let my hand wander up and down each inner thigh, stopping before I got to her red lace clad honey pot. She was begging me not to tease her. Little did she know I was trying to get myself back under control before exploring that cunt that had got my trouser snake moving after one glimpse in the jeep. Finally, I pulled aside the sodden crotch and was pleasantly surprised to find a good old-fashioned hairy snatch. Don’t get me wrong, I like clean shaven as much as the next man but I do like a real woman with real woman pussy hair. I also like the look of ropes of my ball batter all over it. Her pink gash contrasted nicely with the dark hair and I gently parted that beautiful snatch with two fingers. Again I was starting to breathe more heavily and thought I was going to have to start saying the alphabet backwards in my head to prevent myself erupting on that small, expert hand that was running up and down my purple pole.

“You like my pretty pussy? Are you looking forward to putting this great big cock in it? It’s sooooooo big. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to take it all.”

I must admit I am well endowed which is, in theory, a good thing but the ex had struggled to accommodate my impressive girth unless she was drunk and I had managed to get her to watch some porn. As a result, sex had been less than satisfying. Despite Candy’s protestations, I had a feeling her cunt would be able to cope and I was certainly looking forward to finding out. I slipped first one then two fingers into her slippery slit and closed my eyes as I felt hot, wet pussy flesh clamp my fingers. She even gave them a squeeze which promised great things to come. I guess I had worried that a single mum who looked like her might have a slack love tunnel but she felt fantastically tight. I added another finger and she moaned and squeezed again.

“Does that feel good, baby? You like my big fingers in your tight twat?”

“I love them. I’d love your big cock even more.”

I pulled my fingers out with a pop and held them to her lips. She sucked each finger long and slow, gazing into my eyes.

“Tastes good though I say it myself. You want to try the buffet?”

We instinctively moved into the 69 position. She made sure she was in a comfortable position to enjoy my rigid trouser snake then slowly lowered that hairy gash to my hungry mouth. I held her lips open with difficulty as she was unbelievably slippery then I feasted on her sweet-tasting love hole. Meanwhile she sucked and licked me like her favourite lollipop. She swirled around the head, smacking her lips at the taste of my pre-cum, then licked slowly up and down the shaft. A good suck on each ball sack and then she got into her rhythm, sucking alternately soft and hard while moving those little slender hands around the shaft. I had never had a blow job like it.

It was almost impossible to concentrate on snacking on her cunt but I tongue fucked it rhythmically and teased her swollen, sensitive clitty causing her to moan around her mouthful of sausage meat. Flatteringly quickly, I felt her body stiffen and she whimpered for me not to stop before crying out loudly that she was coming.

She then asked me to fuck her and I never refuse a lady a polite request or even a filthy one. She bent over the arm of the chair, her gorgeous great jugs hanging down in perfect bouncing position. I pointed my rock hard cock at the lovely pink slash in its bed of dark hair and began to ease it in. It took a little time to get my big bell end and swollen girth into that love channel but once that warm wet twat had stretched to accommodate, I was balls deep. The ex had never been able to achieve this and I fleetingly wondered if she would appreciate a photo but I decided to abandon that idea and fuck Candy in earnest instead.

I pumped in and out of that luscious, pulpy, dripping wet snatch, grunting my appreciation with every thrust. Candy meanwhile was imploring me to fuck that little cunt as hard as I could, really pound her pussy. She told me she wanted to be walking funny for a week by the time I had finished with her. I used some of the copious juices freely flowing from her well plundered fuck hole to moisten her bum hole and I slipped my thumb inside. This caused her to whimper and squirm even more. I only wished I could use my fuck stick in that lovely quivering arse but I could tell it would take a long time to prepare that hole for such an onslaught. (Maybe a task for another day?)

I sat on the sofa and she lowered her swollen flaps back onto my purple flagpole, She bounced up and down, her tits flying in all directions. I was seriously worried she might give herself a black eye. She came again, shrieking the house down. I hoped a guy lived next door who was hearing every shriek and envying me. I was amazed I had held out for so long but all good things must come to an end. I pounded as hard as I could from below while holding on to those jumping jugs. That was it. I groaned to her that I was coming and asked where she wanted it. I was surprised when she asked for a creampie. I gushed the majority of my well-filled balls into her cunt but couldn’t resist saving one last hosepipe spray for the thatch around her pussy. It looked fantastic, contrasting with the dark hair and the bright pink, well-used gash.

I will definitely be offering Candy a lift home next time its my turn to do the school run. You know what, I might offer to do it more often. That will surprise the ex.

by BritPop, for Literotica

The Tribe

Mon, 27 Nov 2023 07:30:47 -0600

Hardcore sex in the Jungle.

by Tommy8305. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

A tribe of scantily glad, statuesque, women are out in the jungle hunting cock!

Unlike other local tribes the warriors are white with the exception of the leader and a couple of the girls who have darker, olive coloured skin.

Having lured him into a trap they snare a Tarzan like figure. He is dressed in just a loincloth, is really well built and muscular. It takes 4 or 5 of the warriors to wrestle him to the ground.

As he is pinned to the floor a couple of the girls are already grabbing the front of his loincloth, checking out his equipment!

Once they have him tied up they march him back to their camp, which is in a small clearing in the jungle and as night falls it is time for fun by the campfire!

They are keen to assess his ‘potential’ so they have him standing with his hands tied behind his back around a large wooden pole driven into the ground, in the open space in the centre of the village. The prisoner is at one side of the space and the Queen of the tribe’s ‘throne’ is on the other side of the space, directly opposite the prisoner. The scantily clad warriors are sat around in a semi circle fanning out from the throne.

The space is illuminated by a number of small fires burning around the perimeter. Their light creates an eerie yet warm glow.

The Queen walks slowly into the circle and goes across to the throne. Laya is stunning; she’s a tall, athletic type, with long legs and slender thighs that are topped by a short animal-skin skirt. Her long dark hair is tied back in a tail. She is buxom and her top barely contains her ample breasts. Either the cool night air or the anticipation of what might be to come has made her nipples hard and push up against the soft material of her top.

She sits down and crosses her legs showing off her slender thighs. She stares at Tarzan’s loincloth wondering whether what lies beneath will please or disappoint.

Tarzan stares back wondering whether he will get to feel those thighs around his waist whilst he pleasures her pussy! He feels the blood start to surge into his cock.

A short command from Laya brings Tarzan back to his senses and causes one of the olive skinned warriors to rise up from the her position in the semi circle and move toward Tarzan.

Ona is slightly shorter than most of the other warriors. Nonetheless she has ample breasts and long dark hair like Laya.

As she stands a few feet away she stares into Tarzan’s eyes as she takes off her short, little skirt. Then in just an animal skin, bikini like outfit she starts a slow, erotic dance as the tribe start to clap and chant rhythmically!

As she gyrates around in front of him she slides her hands up and down her body, occasionally stroking her ample breasts through her taught little top. At other times she runs her long slender fingers across the front of her knickers provocatively.

It is not long then before the warriors see the first signs of a bulge in the front of Tarzan’s loincloth.

Encouraged by his response, Ona slowly removes her top and her ample breasts spill out. Her nipples are long and hard and the dark circles around the base are so swollen they distort the perfect shape of her tits. As she continues her dance she massages her tits and the long hard nipples poke between her fingers.

Now her hands slide down to her hips. Slowly, as she continues to gyrate, she hooks her thumbs into the waist of her knickers and as she slides them down over her slender hips her dark bush is gradually revealed. Despite it being thick and curly, Tarzan can just make out her perfect peach-shaped pussy and can see that her clit is hard and swollen.

Instinctively he runs his tongue around his lips as he imagines flicking it across her magic button!

She moves towards him thrusting her pussy at the bulge in his loincloth and gyrating against his hardness. Tarzan thrusts his hips at her and they both imagine his cock in her pussy!

As she dances up close to him now she slowly turns, bends slightly forward and pushes her pert little arse against his growing bulge. Again he thrusts at her and as he looks down he visualises splitting her big round cheeks with his cock.

Now, she moves away from him and as she dances naked in front of him her hands all over her tits and pussy. The tribe watch as the front of his loincloth continues to rise.

Intrigued by the big bulge Ona stops dancing and drops to her knee in front of him. She takes hold of the loincloth and starts to pull it down slowly over his muscular hips. First they see the curly hair, then the thick base of his cock, then his big heavy balls. And then, as she continues to slide the garment down, inch after inch of his thick, swollen shaft starts to appear until his cock springs free.

A gasp goes up from the tribe!

Just released from its prison, his cock is not yet fully erect but even so it arches out some 10 inches from his hairy groin. Not only is it long, the shaft is thick too; really thick and the big swollen head droops towards the girl at his feet.

She resists the temptation to give it a pull but instead she flicks out her tongue and licks the head several times making it glisten. Then she sits back on her haunches and watches as it keeps growing and the droopy head slowly rises up until it is pointing toward the night sky.

It is huge!! Tarzan is hung like a horse!!

Now she can’t resist the temptation any longer! She grabs the middle of his equine member with both hands, pulls down the head towards her face and takes 4 or 5 inches of cock in her mouth. It is so thick it she has to open her little mouth really wide.

As her head bobs back and forth on the end of his cock, she pulls the thick shaft vigorously and Tarzan growls his approval.

Sucking and pulling, she works his cock getting it bigger and harder as the tribe egg her on. Soon she has Tarzan in frenzy!

As Tarzan looks around the circle of warriors he sees that many of them are either stroking their tits through the sheer material of their tops or some have discarded their skirts and have their hands stuffed in their panties rubbing their pussies.

In the centre Ona releases his huge cock and stands up before him. As she faces him she runs her hands over her ample tits, rubbing the erect nipples. Then she turns her back to him, bends forward placing her hands on her knees and wiggles her tight, little ass at him, teasingly.

As she bends forward, the sight of her tight little ass and her plump, bulging pussy is the focus of his attention and he can contain himself no longer.

With a big roar he strains his huge shoulders and breaks the bindings holding his huge hands behind his back. Before Ona can react, he grabs hold of her slender hips with his huge hands and pushes her to the floor on all fours.

To the shock of the tribe, a huge wolf like dog walks through the cordon of warriors and up to Ona. It circles round first sniffing the air and then moves up behind her, sniffing between her legs. It then starts to lap at her wet pussy and the girl moans. As the dog laps away its cock starts to appear and there are murmurs form the tribe. Is the wolf going to mount the? But before it gets the chance Tarzan grunts and the dog moves out the way and lies to the side.

So now Tarzan moves up and as he stands behind her, with his huge cock jutting out over her petite frame. As he looks down at her he tenses his firm buttocks making cock bounce up and down to the delight of the girls watching.

Eager to take the gorgeous Ona at his feet he moves quickly now and drops to his knees between the girl’s legs. He slides a big hand down over the smooth cheeks of her tight little arse, pushes his thick fingers through her curly bush and runs them along the lips of her swollen pussy. Ona barks like a dog!

Her pussy is dripping wet already as he strokes it vigorously. He pulls his hand out and wipes her juice over the big swollen head of his cock. He takes hold of his shaft and strokes it as he pulls it down to point it between her slender thighs. As he crawls forward on his knees to enter her for the first time her he lets out a heavy growl.

As he moves forward, Laya rises from her chair and moves towards the couple in order to get a close up of the forthcoming copulation. The tribe follow her lead and crowd around the pair.

In the middle Tarzan slides the huge cock-head down between the firm cheeks of her ass and rubs it up and down her hairy snatch. Then with a lunge he hits the target and spears her pussy with his monstrous cock.

She moans but Tarzan can see that despite the power of his thrust, her little wet pussy is still so tight that he has only managed to push 2 or 3 inches of the thick shaft into her. So he pulls out and gives another thrust. Ona moans again as a couple more inches slide inside stretching her tight pussy. From there, another thrust buries almost half the long shaft inside her and she shudders.

Now she is impaled on his cock she starts to wiggle her hips, first side to side and then back and forth sliding up and down the thick shaft. She is frantic, trying to work his big thick cock into her tight pussy.

She riding 8 or 9 inches now but it is not enough for Tarzan. He was keen to give her his full length so he grabs hold of her hips with his big strong hands he stops her little dance. She looks so small in his big hands, with her slim hips split by his huge rod.

He now starts to pull her onto his equine cock. And the tribe watch as she slowly slides onto the huge rod, inch by inch until the thick base disappears and Tarzan is in up to his balls. His monstrous cock is now buried inside the girl. As he looks down he can see her tight little pussy stretched wide by the thick base of his shaft as he holds his cock deep inside. He tenses his buttocks causing his rod to expand further and Ona moans.

Again and again he does this to stretch her and then he starts to fuck her with his huge length. He holds her firm and steady and with big thrusts of his hips he gives her his huge glistening shaft. Stroke after stroke, length after length, he fucks her. Each time he pulls back,the lips of the her tight pussy are pulled back by the girth of his cock. Each time he rams home his full length sends a shudder through her body as his groin hits her ass and she groans. The power of his thrusts is lifting her knees off the floor.

He just keeps going and soon she is panting and shaking as the huge girth of his horse cock works on her G spot. She starts to cum. As his strokes continue her body becomes stiff and then she starts to shake and shudder. Her arms go weak and she can no longer support herself. She collapses to the floor and he follows her down placing his hands either side of her shoulders, moving to a reverse missionary position. His arms support him over her now as her body lies between his legs.

He is ramming down into her now; lunge after lunge sending his 10 inch length deep inside her. His big heavy balls slap against her ass as he buries his length up to the hilt. She starts to cum again. And as before she first she goes stiff and then her body starts to shake and shudder. And she barks!

Tarzan is also on the verge; the friction from her tight pussy gradually getting there. And just as his wondering whether he should squirt deep inside her or pull out and impress the tribe with the power of his ejaculation the Queen, who has he hand in her panties rubbing her self to another orgasm, shouts “Fill her.” She must have read is mind!

So two, three, four more strokes with his cock and then “Aaaaaarghh” he shouts as he shoots the first load deep up inside her receptive pussy. He pulls back and then with another thrust squirts deep inside her again. And again, and again until her tight little twat has milked his balls of their first full load of the evening.

Tarzan now moves back from the press-up position to sit back on his haunches astride the girls thighs, his cock sliding out of the girl’s pussy pulling her labia lips with it as he does so. As it is finally released from her tight tunnel it bounces up in the air shooting drops of his cum in to the air. He is still as erect and bone hard as ever. As he kneels there he wraps his big right hand around the middle of his thick cock and slowly pulls it. He is horny and ready to go again. Who will it be next?

Slightly to his right the huge wolfhound stirs.

To be continued!

by Tommy8305 for Literotica

All characters in this story are over 18.

Red Riding

Sun, 26 Nov 2023 07:30:38 -0600

A sexual take on a classic fairytale - Red Riding Hood.

By Nyissa – listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

“Hi Granny,” Red’s cheerfully innocent voice echoed over the phone. “Mum told me you weren’t well enough to come to dinner, so I am coming to you.”

‘Shit,’ thought Granny as she surveyed her basement, the Prince still handcuffed to the wall, blindfolded, his hard cock protruding straight out. “Honey,” she used her best sweet and innocent voice, “You really don’t have to I am fine.”

“Nonsense, I’m bringing you some cakes and cookies. We’ll have tea and catch up.”

Granny knew there was not point arguing with the young woman. Red was a sweet child but as she became a young woman, she became quite stubborn and determined, a trait Granny admired, just not today.

“Well, if you must I insist you stick to the path. The woods can be awfully dangerous at this time in the afternoon.” Granny wasn’t exactly lying to her granddaughter, the woods surrounding her house did see a lot of traffic at this time of the day, though not relatively dangerous, her motives were more to do with time. The path through the woods took twists and turns and would afford Granny at least an extra hour before Red arrived. Plenty of time to finish off the Prince.

“Very well, I promise I will take the path and not stray. See you soon.”

“Yes dear.” Granny hung up the phone and sighed. Though she had time she knew she would need to cut short her intended play. She turned back to her subject on the wall. “Now, where was I?”

The Prince muffled into the ball gag in his mouth.

“I’m sorry, did I give you permission to speak!” Her tone had changed completely. The sweet innocent voice of a loving grandmother had been replaced by the forceful tone of a woman in control.

The Prince winced as the riding crop stung his thigh, just missing his cock. Granny grinned as she watched the muscle spasm and the body shiver with the pain.

“Hmm, I will need to make some adjustments if we are to finish in time.”

Granny moved to a lever on the wall and cranked the handle. With each rotation the Prince fell closer to the ground till he was kneeling on the plush carpet of the dungeon floor. His hands were still restrained in the handcuffs suspended from the ceiling. Granny moved around the small room to retrieve the toy needed.

It was a relatively small space with a soft red carpet and satin sheets draped on the walls. Against one side Granny had positioned the chains and restraints securely fastened to the wall, with the pulley system to manipulate positions. On the opposite wall was a full-length mirror so her clients could see the punishments she awarded them. In one corner of the room stood a large intricately carved wardrobe that a local lumberjack had made for her. Inside she stored her toys, whips, dildos, vibrators, cock rings and cunt eggs. Granny was not fussy about the people she awarded punishment to. Male or female, as long as they could pay.

Granny retrieved the large black dildo from the cupboard and returned to the Prince. She placed the object between his legs, lined up with his arse.

“Sit!” she commanded.

He hesitated.

The whip did not miss this time, stinging his shaft and making him jump in pain. He lowered himself down, feeling the thick phallic object push against his arse. It was a momentary pause, but one noticed by Granny as the whip slapped against his cock once again. He pushed on, feeling the object penetrate his tight space and stretch him more than ever before. As the cock slowly entered him, he felt the gag being removed and a leg land on his shoulder. The pressure of the leg forced him to sit, driving the toy hard into his arse.

As he opened his mouth to cry out hands on the back of his head pushing his face into the warm wetness of Granny’s musky cunt. His cock twitched as his arse was deeply filled and his tongue found the lips he loved to lick.

Granny loved this part. Without a word the Prince began to caress her slit with his tongue. She held onto the whip and sporadically brought it done onto his hard cock, knowing he loved the feel and would drive his tongue deeper into her. She pushed into him, forcing the large dildo further into his rear. His wince vibrated on her cunt making her shiver.

The Prince drove his tongue into her sweet cunt, lapping at the juices and feeling them dribble down his chin. Without the use of his hands and fingers his tongue had to work extra hard to make her cum. His arse was on fire, an exquisite fire that made his own cock strain and twitch. Even the sting of the riding crop made him harder. He felt his precum on the tip of his cock and wished she would lick it off for him.

He turned his attention to her clit, sucking the nerve into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. His tongue flicked over the nub as his lips engulfed her cunt. He felt her body shake and knew she was close. The idea that he was about to make her cum made his cock ache. Hands grabbed clumps of his hair as she arched her back and wailed an intense orgasm. She held his head in place, cleaning her cunt of her juices, before releasing an arm.

She stood back from him and commanded, “Make yourself cum.”

His free hand grabbed his cock in a firm grasp and began to stroke his shaft furiously. His balls tightened and the tingling rose quickly in his stomach. His head dropped back, forcing him to sit further back on the cock, his mouth opened as his orgasm approached. He felt the sharp sting of the whip on his balls as he released his load, shooting his cum almost across the room. Jet after jet spurted from him as the riding crop made contact with his arse and balls. He screamed his pleasure as the last droplet left his body and he slumped, one arm still bound, on the floor, cock truly jammed into him.

Granny cleaned herself off and tidied the room before releasing the Prince from his restraints and allowing him to remove the protrusion from his arse. He felt empty and spent as he stood, the toy popping out of him.

“I’m sorry, you can’t clean up here,” Granny handed the Prince his royal clothes. “My granddaughter will be here soon she can’t see you.”

The Prince nodded knowing too well the need for privacy in their interactions. He gathered the clothes handed to him and gingerly walked up the stairs, leaving Granny to smooth over her clothes before returning to her sweet old cottage upstairs.

Leaving Town

With basket in hand, Red left the borders of town behind her as she skipped down the path to the woods. The sun beamed in the sky, warming her body in her deep red cloak. She could feel the heat on her bare knees as her short skirt did little to protect her from the rays.

Red loved going to see Granny but rarely got the chance. At a young age her parents were adamant that Red not attend her Granny’s house alone. She never understood why. Now, at twenty years of age, her parents were still reluctant but permitted her to attend, nonetheless.

As she approached the edge of the woods she shivered. The path continued into the darkness of the thick forest. Though easy to make out, the shadows hid possible dangers in the surrounding trees. Taking a deep breath, Red continued her skip into the cool confines of the trees.

He heard her before he saw her, she wasn’t quiet at all. Peering from behind a tree, he watched as the young lady skipped along the well-worn path towards Granny’s house. He knew Granny. Or more, had known her. He had fond memories of the handcuffs tight around his wrists as expert hands roughly massaged his cock. He closed his eyes and breathed deep at the memory of shooting his cum over Granny as his arse was assaulted. His cock twitched at the memory. He yearned to experience that release again but had been banned when his demand for control had earned a red card from Granny.

His eyes returned to the beauty before him. Her flowing red cloak opened to show the loose, white, off-the-shoulder top that did not hide the fullness of her breasts as each skip caused the unrestricted mounds to bounce. He was transfixed. His cock responding once again to the visage before his eyes. Her short red skirt left her knees bare and danced with each step. He could imagine the sweetness that lay beneath the confines of the white cotton panties flashed as she bounced.

He moved further down the path and lent against a large boulder, ensuring he was hidden from the young woman until she was past him.

“Well, hello young lady.”

Red jumped and squealed. Whirling around she stumbled back at the sight of the unknown figure before her.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to startle you so.” His husky voice hid the lie he had told.

“Um,” Red stuttered, trying to find the words. “Who are you? What are you doing out here? In the woods? Alone?”

“My apologies dear lady. Names John Wolf, but you can call me Johnny,” John smiled a cheeky grin. “Was heading back into town when I saw this beauty skipping along and just had to say hello.”

Red blushed, “Oh.” She liked the idea of this stranger watching her and thinking she was beautiful. He was a tall, solid man who towered over her. His muscular arms stretched the sleeves of the shirt he worn, with thick hair visible through the thin fabric. As he smiled her heart melted and her cunt spasmed. His deep penetrating brown eyes bore into her. She looked away realizing she had been staring at him.

“Who may I ask is this lovely young woman before me?” The question dripped like honey off his lips.

“I’m Red,” she managed to respond. “I’m heading to my Granny’s house to bring her cake and tea.” His gentle tone made her divulge more information than asked.

His smile broadened. 'This is it,’ he thought, 'she is my ticket back in. Granny would be expecting the knock at the door, he just needed to delay the young woman.’

“What a sweet thing to do. Beautiful inside and out.” He laid on the charm. “Perhaps flowers would be nice too. I bet your Granny would love something to brighten up her house.”

Red liked the idea of presenting her Granny with a bunch of flowers she had picked herself. She surveyed the sides of the path in search of a bouquet to pick.

“You won’t find the beautiful flowers on the path anymore,” John spoke with faux care in his voice. “All the flowers have been picked clean by travelers. But further in, just off the path, are fields of daisies and lavender, the perfect present from a loving granddaughter.”

Red was hesitant, “Granny told me not to stray from the path. She said it was dangerous.”

John laughed a friendly, calming laugh. “Nonsense, these woods are perfectly safe. You will be doted on for being such a loving soul.”

Red contemplated for a moment before nodding her head and skipping off the path in the direction Johnny had pointed. She began to whistle a joyful tune as she detoured, giving John time to visit with Granny.

Johnny on the Spot

Granny heard the rustle outside and opened the door slightly before returning to the kitchen to put the kettle on. She heard the footsteps enter the cottage. “Come in Red, it is lovely to see y…” Her voice trailed off as she entered the lounge room to be confronted by Johnny. Before she could scream at him to leave, he lifted her onto his shoulders, his muscular arms having no issues with her frame. Carefully he carried her down the stairs to her dungeon.

“Johnny,” Granny began, “you know you are not permitted here. Now let me go and leave.”

“Not this time Granny, we are doing this my way.”

Granny squirmed to no avail, Johnny’s big hands clamped over her wrists and held them tight as he retrieved the handcuffs that were connected to the ceiling pulley system. The cold metal made Granny jump as her hands were captured by the restraints. Johnny stood back and watched as Granny thrashed against the confines. He stood before her, grabbed the collar of her dress with his hands and roughly ripped them apart, exposing her ample breasts. The cool air instantly hardened the nipples visible under the white, lacy bra.

“Granny, you are as luscious as I remember you.” His brown eyes smiled at her as he removed his shorts. “See the effect you have on me.” His hard cock protruded out before him. The thick muscle bounced as he moved toward her. His hands moved inside what remained of her dress, sliding into the lacy panties he knew she wore. He felt the dampness and giggled. “I do it for you too.”

Granny’s eyes widened at the sight of the large cock before her. She remembered his strong arms and fur covered chest, but the image of his cock had eluded her, until now. Her cunt spasmed at the sight and the hope that it would soon be inside her. Johnny had been fun to play with but his insistence on taking the lead had forced her to ban him from her cottage. It had been a long time since she had taken a cock and her cunt yearned to be filled.

His fingers ventured under the thin material, sliding along her lips but not penetrating. Granny moved her hips, trying to slip his fingers inside but he pulled back.

“My terms Granny.” A wicked grin spread across his lips.

He removed his fingers and stripped Granny of her clothes. Her full breasts hung free of their confinement, nipples hard and pointing towards the ground. Johnny bent and sucked first a nipple then the breast into his mouth. His teeth bit hard on the point causing Granny to cry out. Once again he giggled, the vibrations sending shivers through Granny.

His fingers flicked her clit as he sucked and nibbled on her breast. Her body jumped with each bite and each flick of the sensitive nub. Granny spread her legs wider, hoping Johnny would drive into her. His cock jumped knowing she wanted him inside her, but he resisted, continuing to bite her nipple and strum her clit.

Granny felt the orgasm rising deep in her stomach. She yearned to be filled by his hard cock, pushing her hips forward, silently begging him to take her. The pain of his bites were swallowed by the electricity flowing from her clit. She gritted her teeth as the orgasm hit. Her body shook with the intensity.

Johnny held her tight as her body convulsed. His fingers continued their assault on her clit making her hips jerk with the sensitivity. Dropping to his knees he replaced his fingers with a tongue lapping at the juices flowing from her cunt and pressing against the nerve. She continued to shake, her hips trying to pull away from him.

Granny groaned as a tongue began to assault her sensitive cunt and clit. She attempted to move her hips away and close her legs, but he held her tightly, applying pressure to her swollen clit. She screamed as two fingers were plunged into her aching cunt. They wiggled inside her, finding and caressing her sweet spot. The tongue continued to press against her as lips closed around her cunt. Teeth nibbled the hood of her clit as the fingers began a slow pounding.

Holding her tightly, Johnny slid two fingers deep into Granny’s soaked cunt. Bending his fingers he stroked her g-spot before sucking her clit into his mouth. Fresh juices escaped Granny as she groaned, her body still shuddering from her orgasm. His teeth closed in on her lips, nibbling around the bud of nerves. With an arm around her hips, holding her to him, his tongue played over her clit, strumming the nub as his fingers pounding into her.

Granny felt the heat rising in her feet as another orgasm began to build. Her body had not been allowed to recover from the first one as she exploded with the second. She screamed as the wave of electricity flooded her body, more intense than the first. Once again Johnny lapped at the juices that freely flowed down his arm as he continued to fuck her dripping cunt with his fingers.

Johnny lathered her clit with his tongue, licking the remaining juices, before standing before her, his fingers still deep inside her. He tapped her clit with his hard cock making her jump with each tap. He moved behind her, his free hand on her hip, and positioned his cock at her soaked entrance. In one movement he removed his fingers and rammed his cock into her.

Granny’s body shook as the second orgasm continued to pulse inside her. The tongue on her clit prolonged the sensations. Her cunt throbbed as the fingers played against the sensitive flesh of her cunt. She felt before she saw his cock tapping her clit and jumped with each touch. He moved behind her and drove his cock deep inside her. Her body felt like it was on fire, every muscle ached as Johnny made her cum again and again.

Johnny pounded the cunt before him. Sliding his cock out of her before driving it back in, hard, pulling back on her hips to get as deep as he could. With each thrust her body shuddered with orgasm after orgasm. He wouldn’t stop. Her cunt convulsed on his thick shaft, squeezing him as he thrust into her. His balls tightened, his stomach tingled as he drove in deep and exploded in her cunt. His cock spasmed as yet another orgasm milked his shaft.

Granny shook constantly as her cunt was demolished by Johnny’s thick cock. Orgasms flooded ever muscle making her weak. She felt his cock twitch and wash her cunt with his cum, making her cunt spasm with a final orgasm. The intensity of the events were too much for her as her weakened, exhausted body slumped on the restraints.

Johnny popped from Granny’s cunt. He watched as their mixed juices dribbled down her legs. Seeing her slumped over he lowered her restraints allowing her to rest on the soft carpet, her arse in the air. Cum dripping from her spent cunt.

Red Arrives

Night was creeping in as Red approached the cottage. She hadn’t realized how long she had spent collecting flowers and hoped Granny wouldn’t be too upset with her. Holding the large bunch of daisies in her hand she pushed on the open door and wandered in.

“Granny?”

“In here dear,” a strained, high pitched voice came from the bedroom. “I’m feeling a bit off at the moment. Do come in.”

Though the voice sounded different Red casually walked into Granny’s room. The lights were low, and the curtains were drawn on the canopy bed. Red could just make out the figure under the covers and recognized the sleeves of the nightie she had given her Granny last Christmas. The shape filled out the bed more than she remembered. Granny appeared taller than she thought, and a strange bulge lifted the covers halfway down the bed.

“Are you okay Granny?” Red asked, confused at the image before her.

“Of course my dear,” Johnny put on the best high-pitched voice he could trying to disguise the lust he felt at seeing the young woman once again. “Come closer.”

Johnny beckoned Red towards him. His large muscular hands flashed in the slither of moonlight from the window.

“My, what big hands you have,” Red was surprised by the glimpse of the hands urging her forward.

“All the better to hold you with my dear. Come, closer.”

Johnny repositioned himself to sit upright in the bed. As he moved the moon reflected in his eyes. Red gasped.

“Granny, what beautiful brown eyes you have. I don’t remember them being that color.”

“All the better to see you with, my dear. They change color at night,” Johnny tried to explain away the change. “Come closer.”

As Red stood next to the bed her eyes adjusted to the shadows of the room and she could see the figure more clearly.

“Granny, what a big mouth you have.”

Johnny had her now. He reached out a hand, grabbing her wrist and holding her tight. “All the better to eat you with,” he growled.

Throwing the covers off he stood before her, a mountain of a man with a firm grasp on her wrist. The flimsy nightie could not hide his arousal and Red’s eyes grew wide as she caught a glimpse of his thick hard cock. He ripped off the cotton nightie, standing in the moonlight from the small window in the room. Red watched as the fur that covered his body shimmered in the light. She had never seen a man as muscular or hairy as him and her cunt delighted at the image.

Grabbing her by

Orchard Cottage Inn

Sat, 25 Nov 2023 07:30:31 -0600

A Country Inn venture brings Joe some special opportunities.

By jonnicat. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Joe Leman could not prevent his dirty mind getting carried away as he fantasized about the next guest at his Little Country Inn. Lea looked stunning in her profile photo on the booking app: erotic platinum blonde hair, alluring facial features, wicked smile and a look of naughtiness in her eyes. He could be wrong and she might well have zero interest in him, but he had a hunch that she was going to be as wild as she looked. He felt that familiar stirring of his libido as he anticipated her visit.

The cottage was the perfect discreet ‘Bed & Breakfast’, hidden in the trees, invisible from the lane that led from the distant main road. This was one of the reasons people like Lea booked it for a weekend break. In fact the cottage inn was a former gatehouse at the entrance to an estate. The owner, Joe, had inherited it and decided to turn the small place into a holiday let to help pay for the upkeep of his larger manor, nearby. Joe manages an investment fund and brought in a partner to operate the orchard, on a common sharecropper arrangement.

The cottage has been renovated to include the most updated kitchen & bath furnishings, as well as central air. But the structure retains all the eighteen sixty character and charm. It has a master suite and two upstairs smaller bedrooms. The back patio has a hot tub and fire pit.

So this hottie, Lea of London, reminded him of a woman he had met and had wine-fuelled sex with, at a travel industry networking event the year before, which took place at a remote old country house that had been adapted as a conference center, an hour north of London.

Her name was Gabriella. She was a rep from a tour operator who had been seated next to Joe at the welcome lunch. They had chatted and flirted increasingly shamelessly over endless champagne. She was in her late forties, at least, he guessed. Slim, long straight natural blonde hair, pert boobs, seductive smile and the most luscious pink lips (which she was expert at licking in the most erotic manner). By the mid-afternoon they were tipsy and horny as hell.

She had made the first move while they were still at the table. Sliding her arm under the linen tablecloth so that no one else would notice, she had run her fingers up his leg, caressing his inner thighs through the tight trousers of his bespoke suit. As usual he wasn’t wearing underwear, so when her fingertips reached his crotch she could easily feel his cock, swollen and pulsing against the tight fabric as she stroked him.

She leaned towards him to whisper, ‘You’re a big boy, aren’t you?’

To this he had gasped and replied, 'That’s the effect you have on me!’

She rubbed harder. He tried not to moan out loud.

She whispered again, 'Let’s take this to the cocktail bar.’ He grinned at the way she stressed the syllable “COCK”.

Joe followed Gabriella out of the dining room to the lounge bar, trying to be discreet by following a few steps behind her, not that he really cared whether anyone else noticed them slipping off to have a drink together. Truth was he wanted to check her out from behind. She wore elegant black heels, a short black skirt (legs bare) and a cobalt blue silk blouse, which during the lunch had been unbuttoned enough to show her generous cleavage, she had seen him ogling and grinned at him. From behind she looked stunning, striding like a catwalk model, flicking her long hair, swishing her waist and showing off her tight buttocks as they strained against the tight material of the obscenely short skirt (no visible panty line, he was pleased to see). Was he mistaken or could he smell her too? Was she wearing knickers? He determined to find out.

They sat at high stools in the far corner of the candlelit bar. As she wiggled her way up onto the stool, turning it to face his, her legs parted and he could almost see up her skirt. He could definitely smell her cunt now: a rich aroma of pure sexuality wafting his way. She ordered a gin martini; he had a negroni, served by a discreet barman who knew Joe from a previous visit when Joe had been hosting an event there. At that moment he had an unbidden moment of fantasy, imagining inviting the guy to join him and Gabriella in his room, suspecting (correctly, as he would discover later) that she loved threesomes.

Meanwhile, he raised his glass to her and they toasted: 'To pleasure!’ As she knocked back her drink he saw her legs part again, revealing a brief glimpse of a tiny white triangle of material, So she was wearing panties!

They were as close as they could be, sitting on separate stools. He considered suggesting they move to one of the sofas, but for now they were content to be facing each other, legs touching, eyes locked, smiles hinting the kisses they both yearned to give and receive. How to get her up to his room, or hers? She took the next step again.

She looked him right in the eye and said, 'Here’s a game. We each guess whether the other is wearing underwear. You go first.’

He didn’t let on that he had already glimpsed hers. He replied, 'What do I get if I guess correctly?’

She gave him her wicked grin, 'If I’m not, I’ll lift my skirt and prove it. If I am, I’ll take them off and give them to you.’

He smiled. 'And what do you get if you guess correctly?’

She licked her lips. 'If you’re wearing any, go to the gents, take them off and throw them in the bin. If you’re not wearing any, unzip your fly and show me here!’

He nodded.

'Go on then, you first,’ she said.

He pretended to try to see up her skirt so she edged her legs together, giggling. He smiled, made a gesture of pondering his guess, then whispered, 'I know by now you’re a very naughty girl. I don’t think you’re knickerless but I bet you’re only wearing a tiny thong?’

She grinned. 'Good guess. Now I suppose I’ll have to take it off and give you a souvenir. But first it’s my turn. Are you going commando, I wonder? Hmmm, Yes, I bet you are, you wicked man!’

He nodded, 'Correct.’

She looked at his crotch, 'Go on then, show me!’

Joe glanced around the bar. There was nobody watching. Maintaining eye contact with Gabriella, he unzipped his fly, reached one hand in and pulled out his cock, enough for her to see the bare tip and top of the shaft. He was sure she would smell him now, knowing he gave off a strong natural sexual aroma. Her eyes widened and she licked her lips. She felt her wetness increase, thinking, My knickers must be soaked!

He squeezed his cock back into his pants. 'Your turn.’

She nodded. 'Sure, I’ll just go to the ladies’.

He watched her ass again as she slid from the high stool and sidled off across the room. While she was gone he ordered a bottle of champagne and said to his barman friend to hold it on ice for a few minutes because they might need it sent to his room, or hers. He slipped his friend a generous cash tip as he signed for the order.

Moments later Gabriella returned to his side. Before going to her stool she put her hand in his, transferring the tiny sliver of sodden silk to his grip. He felt the wet thong in his palm, glanced down at it and put it in his trouser pocket, then sniffed his fingers approvingly as she watched and giggled.

Before she could sit down again he asked, 'Shall we go somewhere more private? I’ve ordered us some more bubbly, if that’s ok?’

She grinned and kissed him on the cheek. 'Great idea. Have it sent to my room.’

And so, after a mostly liquid lunch and their stimulating fun and games in the public bar, they found themselves in her suite. She immediately pushed him against the wall and kissed him passionately on the mouth. He pulled her close, reaching down to grasp her athletic buttocks which were straining against the tight skirt. Her hands went to his waist, unbuckled his belt. His hands slid up her thighs to clasp her bare cheeks. He felt her hard nipples as her body pressed against his chest. She felt his cock pressed against her lower tummy. His hands squeezed her buttocks and his fingertips slid between them, feeling the wetness oozing from her. Her fingers deftly undid his fly and pulled out his cock as his trousers fell to the floor. He slid a finger inside her lips, into the pink wetness.

Moments later, clothing scattered across the lush carpet, they were on the bed, nude. He lay on top of her, pinning her down with his muscular body. His cock was pressed against her stomach. He felt so turned on he could imagine rubbing it against her and quickly coming all over her stomach and breasts, but he knew she would expect more than that and anyway he wanted to fuck her properly. She parted her legs and wrapped them up round his waist. This of course spread her cunt wide open. He looked down, across her flat tummy and smooth mound with its downy triangle above bare lips, split by her wet slit. It was time! He edged his cock down between her thighs and pressed the tip against her lips and up across her clit, which was swollen and ready.

She gasped, 'Fuck me!’

And then he was in, plunging deep into her slender body, the full length of his shaft easily sliding into her. He moved his head down to kiss her breasts, licking and gently biting her nipples as she moaned and pulled him further into her, grabbing his waist as he plunged deeper.

'Come in me!’ she ordered.

He felt her body bucking, arching up against him as she gripped his throbbing cock with her powerful cunt muscles, as if she was desperate to cause him to climax. He obeyed, thrusting, hard, soft, in and almost out, then deep again, until he felt that familiar wave of lust, riding through his body and let himself go. With a groan of delight he came deep inside her, spurting powerfully into her willing cunt until he was done, then collapsing onto her, still kissing her breasts, neck, mouth.

'Now lie on your back,’ she told him.

As he did so, she moved around into the 69 position, kneeling over him, lowering her rear end down over his face and taking his cock between her lips. She licked his cum and her juices from his shaft and lowered herself further. His tongue flicked out to lick her soaking wet slit, tasting her sweet juices and his own cum as it seeped from her. He ran his tongue all along her slit and rimmed her rear hole, causing her to wiggle and push herself further onto his face.

Meanwhile she continued sucking his cock dry and playing with his balls, so that before long he was getting hard again. He continued kissing her cunt, sliding his tongue in a figure of eight across her cunt lips, before flicking the tip against her swollen clit, varying the pace and direction. She gasped and shuddered as he continued to stimulate her, sensing the first wave through her body. And then, with a final few licks, he brought her to orgasm. She moaned as she came, juices pouring out of her, into his eager mouth. He lapped greedily. At the same moment she had his cock down her throat, taking the entire stiff shaft and sucking, feeling it swell and throb. Inevitably he came too, shooting into her eager mouth as she swallowed greedily.

They didn’t leave the room until the next morning, spending the night exploring each other’s bodies and trying all manner of positions and techniques. They even fucked in the shower. And when he was spent, they invited the barman to join in, when he delivered another bottle, to feed her appetite for cock and being fucked. She didn’t rest until both men had fucked her and left her a trembling wreck on the messy sheets. And that was only the first night.

That, Joe had thought, is what I call hospitality networking!

Joe’s smartphone dinged, waking him from the daydream. The text is from Lea, affirming her arrival in 10 minutes, or so.

And now, as he prepared Orchard Cottage, he wondered how this 'Lea’ would behave and whether she would be so willing and hungry for sex. He would soon find out,

Lea had booked it for a long weekend. As far as he knew she was coming alone, which was unusual but not rare. A single woman down from London, wanting to 'get away from it all’, he suspected. From her profile on the booking app he had seen she was an attractive mature woman with long fair hair and a seductive smile. He wondered what she imagined a weekend here would be like.

Typically he left his guests alone during their visit, meeting them only once, on their arrival, to show them round and give them the key. But he lived close by in case they needed anything. He could not help wondering whether this solitary woman would want anything he could provide. The cottage was cozy, quiet, isolated. So if a woman wanted to be alone it was the perfect refuge. But if she wanted any company, well, he would be happy to provide any personal service she desired. It wouldn’t be the first time he had been invited in to the cottage by guests who found themselves craving some company in this most isolated spot. He still had the pair of knickers the last single woman had left!

She was due to arrive any moment. It was late evening on a warm Friday in early summer. Dusk had not yet fallen. The trees cast warm shadows around the cottage. The last rays of sun lit up the small windows. Joe had prepared the fireplace. Guests always wanted a 'real fire’ with logs. He had left a complimentary bottle of red wine too. Would she want to drink that on her own?

Anyway, he thought, let’s see how things go. I’ll show her round, let her settle in, make sure she has my number. If she wants to be left alone, fine. Otherwise, anything is possible. It gets chilly at night out here, she might want someone to stoke the fire for her, keep her warm. He felt a thrill of lust as his imagination roved.

Having finished preparing the cottage, he was now just outside the door when he heard a car slowing down, turning in from the quiet lane. He stood waiting, dressed in black jeans and a blue denim shirt, untucked. He ran his hand through his hair, smoothed down his shirt and faced towards the lane. An Audi appeared, approached, stopped in front of him. He smiled as he saw the woman through the windscreen. He was pleased to see she was alone. She turned off the engine and stepped out. He took a step towards the car, trying to imagine how he would appear to her.

'Hi, you must be Lea. I’m Joe. Welcome!’ He smiled again as she looked him up and down.

What was she thinking, feeling? What would she desire?

It wouldn’t be the first time Joe Leman (his professional persona, though not his real name) had fucked one of his guests. Far from it. In fact he had lost count of how many women he had seduced, or been seduced by, during all his years in the hospitality industry: at business conferences he had hosted, in those identikit hotels where clients relished being away from their partners for a night, invariably drank too much, and ended up fucking each other all night; at Mediterranean holiday resorts, where sex-starved bored wives would take him to their rooms while their husbands were out playing golf; or at the small country house hotel in the New Forest that he had run until recently (in which he still owned a controlling shareholding), where women came for a girls weekend or hiking or riding, all of which made them uncontrollably horny and easy prey for their handsome host.

One of his most treasured memories of these numerous encounters was a night spent with Connie; a stunning and filthy executive from some marketing firm that had its annual retreat at a remote country hotel in Hampshire. He had been asked at the last minute to fill in as the hotel’s lead facilitator, to make sure the client firm got what they were paying for, in terms of facilities, refreshments, evening entertainment. Connie, a slim fit blonde in her forties, had chatted to Joe in the hotel bar on the first night, having slipped away from her increasingly drunken and boorish colleagues.

After draining another cocktail she had fabricated some excuse to get him up to her room, claiming something or other wasn’t working and asking him to help her with it. As soon as the bedroom door closed behind them she had snogged him up against the wall, sliding her hand into his trousers, rubbing his bare cock, then stripped him and led him to the king size bed. There she undressed, lay on the bed and insisted that he tie her to the bedframe with his tie, then fuck her while she pretended to resist (not the first woman he had known to want a forced sex fantasy).

After he had emptied himself into her she demanded that he turn her over and whip her bottom with his belt. She had squealed with delight, feigned terror at this 'punishment’, then insisted on taking his cock into her mouth, expertly licking and sucking him hard until he came again. She had swallowed every drop of his cum, had him untie her, left him her knickers as a souvenir, then rejoined her party at the bar.

And now he had inherited the secluded house and its quaint Orchard Cottage which got regular Air b & b bookings. It was usually couples having a dirty weekend, sometimes dirty enough to invite him to join in. Occasionally women craving a romantic escape or meeting their secret lovers; they too would sometimes let themselves be seduced while he helped them settle in or got the fire going. Ah yes, the old fireplace, guaranteed to conjure up the desire to be naked in front of the flames, drinking and fucking through the night. What action that fireside had seen!

Joe found that his 6 foot height, dark eyes, chiseled looks, fit body and smart clothes always gave women a good first impression. But he knew his most powerful secret weapon was his sexual aroma. He had learnt early on that he gave off a rather powerful manly scent, strong pheromones and sweat that had a peculiar effect on women. For this reason he never wore aftershave. He showered daily, but never used deodorant, and rarely wore underwear. He kept himself clean and well groomed, sure, but he allowed his body to give off its natural sexual aroma. He trimmed but didn’t shave his pubic hair, aware that this too accentuated the sexual attraction by holding the scent around his loins. Sometimes he would even run his hands inside his trousers, up and down the shaft of his cock, between his arse cheeks and around his balls, just to get his musky scent onto his fingers, meaning it would waft around him and make it even more likely that any women he met would unknowingly detect it and find herself sexually stimulated. It usually worked a treat.

And now here he was perhaps about to fuck this stunningly attractive guest, Lea (or whatever her name really was? Guests often used an alias. Several female solo guests had either been turned on by his sexual presence, betrayed surely by the bulge in his Levi’s, or who was just extremely horny. Perhaps one of those women with an insatiable appetite, a primal lust to fuck and accustomed to getting what she wanted.

He had made every effort to stay cool when he first saw her arrive, not to let his eyes pop out like a cartoon fox, or his tongue drool like a lusty hound. Instinctively he must have looked her up and down (he wasn’t always subtle) as she stepped from her sleek Audi, taking in her surprisingly high heels, slim legs, a glimpse of stocking top, shockingly short skirt, blatantly transparent blouse, her striking platinum blonde hair and pretty face. She had a look in her eyes too, like a woman with great hunger, used to feeding her wild appetite at will.

Joe wondered whether she was really staying alone. Often the person who booked didn’t tell him who else was going to accompany them. Lea seemed like she wasn’t going to spend the weekend alone: he imagined that she was well capable of giving herself a lot of solitary pleasure (no doubt she enjoyed a wank at least daily, as he did), but equally took the opportunity to use a man whenever she felt like it. Was her lover going to arrive later? Or lovers, plural! But for now it was just the two of them in his cottage.

He made the usual fuss of showing her where things were, leading her round the place. A couple of times he caught her checking out his backside or crotch. He kept in shape and had been told he had good legs and a firm well-shaped arse, so he wore jeans that fit him well, accentuating his physique and showing the bulge of his cock. As he gave the tour he admired her too, noticing with delight the erect red nipples straining against her silk shirt, and her shapely leg

The American Population Crash

Fri, 24 Nov 2023 07:30:53 -0600

A Sluttier Prevention Option

By AnonymousPerv – listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

It’s 2031 and the US Senate is trying to grapple with multiple studies which predict the fiscal collapse of the govt. from unfunded retirement programs and medical costs to care for the elderly. The population decrease over the past 10 years was unparalleled in our nation’s history. Our generational ‘ponzy scheme’ needs a new generation bigger than the previous, in order for social security to hope to remain solvent. And that’s without geriatric healthcare programs factored in.

It only started ten years ago or so, but the problem had already escalated to unsustainable levels. Men, across the United States, were becoming less and less interested in sex.

To better describe it, they’d become less interested with having sex and relationships with real women. There had been many theories on the phenomena: the easy access to porn through practically any medium, as well as advancements in sex-bots and life partner-bots. Then add all the subjectively-applied statutes about sexual harassment. Now add the rabid cancel-culture efforts to destroy careers and reputations for something as innocuous as telling a racy joke at work. All this, compounded with less genuine social interaction than previous generations. Divorce courts have increasingly showed biased rulings in favor of women, to the point where men now largely avoid any marriage covenants at all.

The same effects could be seen developing in other western nations, too, but the U S A was by far the worst off, perhaps due to being ahead of most of the world in advancing technologies. Some said it paralleled with the obesity epidemic we once had. America saw the problem first, before the rest of the world caught on. However, that problem had been corrected decades ago. Natural phenomena also added to the crisis. Testosterone levels in men radically dropped. Men were committing suicide a greater rates. More divorces were happening than new marriages.

This was much worse. Without enough procreation occurring, people were dying at a rate of three, to every one birth. There had been many talks about forming a national initiative to correct the problem, as at the rate we were going, within twenty years or so, our economy would collapse.

Conservatives argued adamantly against the concept of “test tube baby manufacturing” for religious reasons. The better argument was that while we could in fact produce new babies in laboratories, it didn’t solve the problem of who would raise them. A government-backed orphanage was unethical on many levels, and there weren’t enough couples or even single people willing to adopt. A review of the 50 state foster care agencies, clearly convinced any honest citizen that the govt. is a far worse parent than most any biological parent.

“We have to get people interested in having relationships again,” cried Shara Payton, the Senator from Alaska. She was a conservative, but perhaps one of the rare ones who didn’t align with every issue in her party’s platform. She was speaking at an open session of the Senate Health subcommittee on Children & Families. At this time, members were allowed to speak freely. Payton is no Libertarian. She’s a traditionalist with Alaska values.

“We’ve already pilot tested relationship programs, and classes in our schools and colleges. Free dating credits didn’t even help, "Said Hobert Basey, the Senator from Pennsylvania & Chairman of the Senate Health subcommittee on Children & Family. "I’m not sure what else we can do.”

A woman’s voice from the end of the dais spoke up, but could barely be heard. It was the senator from Hawaii, Tilly Gifford. There aren’t many women in the senate compared to their male counterparts, but the urgency on this issue was shared by each of them. Even their male counterparts, who were well aware of this problem and discussed it openly, didn’t engage in much sex with real women themselves. They were as disengaged as the rest of the men in this nation. Aware of the problem, but unwilling to change their behavior.

Tilly tried to speak louder, but could still only barely be heard in the committee hearing room. Shara Payton waved at one of the technical staff seated at the back wall. A second later, Tilly’s microphone reverberated across the hearing room, a light shrill, finally coming quiet.

Tilly spoke again, “I said…. the program we started in Honolulu looks promising. Did none of you get the report my staff sent over?”

Shara was completely ignorant of any new report on this topic and said so, others in the room agreeing with her.

Dressing To Appeal

Tilly sat up in her chair and spoke directly into the microphone. “I’ll need to check my email outbox, as I sent a copy to every subcommittee member about the DTA pilot Program that the Hawaii legislature authorized in October of last year. This program is ongoing at 6 participating private trade schools & colleges in the Honolulu area. We’ve even been able to get both men and women to actively contribute to the program, rather than just participate in it.” The next phase of the study will adopt male DTA participation on each campus.

Hobert interrupted. “The DTA Program? I haven’t heard of this. It never came through the house?”

“No sir, it was a local initiative,” answered Tilly. “But it’s been promising. Women on campus are reporting a more than 400 percent rise in sexual activity. We’ve doubled the marriage engagements already, too. No idea how that would have continued to drop if we hadn’t gone through with this program.”

“And this was accomplished in just three months?” asked Shara. “The DTA Program? DTA? Mr. Chairman, since our scheduled presenters cancelled on us, today; I ask unanimous consent to allow the junior senator from the state of Hawaii to address the subcommittee from the presenter’s desk.”

“Without objection, so approved. Miss Gifford, please take your place at the desk facing the committee dais, and take your leave to inform us of your, uh; DTA pilot program details. Since the witness is a colleague, and only a few of us braved the weather for today’s business, I’ll allow greater informality in this presentation. Senator, you are a member, so you won’t be sworn in. Just proceed when you’re ready. Senators will be allowed to ask questions as they wish to.”

Senator Tilly Gifford smiled as she stood and walked around the end of the dais. She was elated that things were transpiring like this. The room was mostly empty, except for one AARP tour group from Florida. The rest were staffers and lobbyists. The lone C-Span camera at the back of the room was the only media covering this hearing. Tilly had her coat on since entering the hearing room. Most folks probably thought she was just cold from the late February snowstorm that arrived overnight.

Standing by the oak chair, Tilly faced her fellow senators, then sat down, still in her long overcoat. She sat at the table to address her colleagues.

"It stands for ‘Dressing To Appeal,’ Senator Payton,” said Tilly. “The women have a very strict uh, tight, uh; dress code, I guess you would call it. I mean, they can wear whatever they want, but it has to be of a certain tolerance.”

“Wait, what?” asked Shara.

“Women dress in such a manner that attracts men,” said Tilly, trying to put it as softly as she could. “Specifically, any single woman within the age of 21 and 60 must participate in the program. Of course, we’ve found most married women participate, as well.”

Tilly herself had been against the program in the beginning, but after seeing the results of how men reacted to women dressing as shameless sluts, she had to concede it had its merits. Many college students were actively dating, socializing and sharing activities. The girls had been craving the companionship, naturally, and the men were now more than happy to engage. No matter how much she hated the catalyst to this restoration of social interaction, Tilly appreciated the results.

“Are you putting us on?” came another voice from across the room.

“No, sir,” said Tilly. “The program has been so successful, in fact, that news has spread throughout our local communities. Some offices and work sites in the community have even begun allowing the practice.”

“What do you mean by 'allowing’ the practice?” asked Shara.

“Oh, well… I mean, I guess… well…” Tilly was having a hard time explaining it. She had wanted the report to do that for her.

“Well, spit it out,” said Senator Hobert.

“I guess you could say that before the initiative was started, the girls would likely have been arrested for public indecency?”

“Excuse me?” asked Shara.

“Believe me, I know what you’re thinking!” said Tilly. “I thought the idea sounded terribly sexist, but I simply cannot argue with the results. I’ll be sure each and every one of you gets the report by the end of today.” Tilly snapped her fingers at her attractive assistant sitting next to her. The girl hopped up, and took off out the door, no doubt executing that order.

“Just tell us what this DTA thing is now,” said Hobert, interrupting again. “I’ll read the report later. You say a 400 percent increase in sexual activity? That is remarkable news.”

Tilly paused and then spoke slowly, “The thing is… the women have to dress, I guess putting it bluntly… slutty.”

Shara Payton rolled her eyes. She had heard of this proposal before. Some social scientists had suggested that having women wear sexually provocative clothing (or even, going naked), would drive men back to socializing with women again; that it would supersede the current easy access to other materials that satisfied men’s sexual needs, such as sex-bots and interactive pornography. Shara thought the idea was ludicrous when she heard it then and she felt the same way now.

“I, at first, thought the idea was ridiculous and sexist,” said Tilly. Shara was surprised Tilly’s civil libertarian views had once mirrored hers.

“But I come before you today, not just attesting to the report you’ll be receiving, but I also offer my own personal testimony.” Then Tilly added; “The ‘beta boy’ culture of west coast communities were, at first, a desirable cultural development. Women loved the reigning in of what we called ‘toxic masculinity’. Now it’s hard to find strong masculine role-models in west coast states. How does a community entice a male to resume his natural role in the crucial task of keeping our populations stable and sustainable? Men fear being punished for their natural, biological tendencies.

Tilly continued; “Nearly 30 years ago, New York City suffered thousands of casualties at the Twin Towers. If not for the masculinity of the FDNY firemen; and I deliberately use that sexist term; men rushed up the staircases and rescued thousands more. They continued on in their missions until nearly all of them died in those collapsed buildings. Testosterone drives men to do that. And fathers train young boys to become responsible men. Our nation’s future depends on this natural law.” If the nine eleven tragedy happened today, I seriously question how many fire & rescue agencies could do what the FDNY did on that dark day in our history.”

The sparse crowd erupted in whispers across the hall.

"About our Honolulu area pilot program. On the days I have visited these Honolulu institutions, I also voluntarily participated in the DTA program. All campus women are required to, students and staff, so I feel like it’s my duty as their state’s delegate to do the same.” Senator Gifford scooted her chair back. “Just a moment, I wish to get more comfortable.”

Tilly then stood up, she could be seen still in her long overcoat, which was not unusual for February weather, but as she peeled it off and looked directly to Senators Payton and Basey’ chairs, it was apparent she was wearing very very little, on this February day with blowing snow outside.

Senator Tilly Giffordm, barely into her forties; sported thigh-high stockings, a short, black skirt, and it was questionable whether there were panties underneath. Above the skirt was a silky white blouse, unbuttoned well down past her bustine, revealing a full and open C-cup chest.

Tilly Gifford was bustier than she let on in her normal senatorial attire, thought Hobert Basey. He couldn’t help but allow his eyes to follow those braless luscious breasts, as she sat back down, and resumed her presentation.

"This outfit is just one example of what might be deemed acceptable to the DTA guidelines. I know it may be offensive to some of you. In the beginning, it was to me, but look at you all.” Tilly eyed Shara Payton and the two other female senators at the dais. “Ladies, look over at your male counterparts. Look at how they stare and smile.” She waved her arms to emphasize the impact. “Any other day, I’m just a faceless freshman senator, ignored by the likes of most of you, but today you’re all paying close attention.” She held her arms up, which shook her torso lightly, allowing a hint of a bounce.

Seeing that she held the respect and full attention, Tilly slowly spread her legs & went on; “For centuries we’ve used the force of law to persecute some cultural behaviors which never really victimized anyone. We condescendingly declared that dressing outside prescribed norms was ‘harming all other women’. None of us had clear proof of any actual victims, but we all got in line and parroted the mantra. We’ve imposed sectarian dogma in a way that denied civil liberties. Rather than strengthening natural family cohesion, government has accelerated the breakup of marital partnerships and more importantly, reproduction rates. We now see that big govt. has become its own worst enemy.” We’ve legislated ourselves into loneliness, not needing each other, and now even fearing natural relations.

“How are the pilot projects implemented,” Senator Payton asked;

“The pilot program doesn’t cost anything except for the monitoring and compiling data. All those participating are doing so without incurred expenses. We simply got government off their backs. The city councils created a campus carve-out where local ordinances would not be enforced during the program period. We let these volunteering campus communities create a new community norm and see how it goes. Each student body held a vote, and agreed to participate. The faculty approved as well. The projects end this May.

Tilly watched Senator Payton, who was eyeing Hobert, who was simply enraptured by the view. A few more photo journalists entered the room and crawled below the dais. One A P photographer was obviously trying to get ‘the money shot’ of Senator Gifford’ spread legs, seated front & center. Chairman Basey just grinned in his zombie stupor. He looked like a college boy watching a porn video.

“Don’t you think this is going too far? Even if it does bring results, does it not degrade women?” Shara was objecting on every level, horrified at the thought of wearing such a thing, allowing her pendulous D cups to be gawked at by others. Shara figured if Tennessee Senator Martha Brentwood were present today, she would also object even more, as she was maybe a B-cup at best, and very shy for being a public figure.

“I guess that is for all of us to decide,” said Tilly, smiling, winking at Senator Marlo Rublo, who was particularly obsessed with her tits. He stood up at his seat on the far right end of the curved dais, and ran to a vacant chair closer to the center, ignoring the assigned seating arrangement, to get a better view.

“Colleagues, as I said, the report will get to your email soon, if it hasn’t already. Please review it. I can only attest to what is happening at a local level. It’s up to you, if you want to use this information on a national initiative.”

With that, Tilly stood to the clicking of over a dozen photojournalists. She lifted her overcoat and wrapped herself back in it. Immediately, Hobert’s mind snapped back to reality and he said, “Well, that is interesting, young lady, er, Senator.”

The chairman turned to his minority ranking member; “Shara, why don’t you round up the rest of the ladies in the subcommittee and we’ll hold a formal round of questions after reviewing the DTA information?”

“Really? Do you think this is the solution?” asked Shara directly to the Chairman.

“Can’t hurt to talk about it,” said Hobert. “This committee is adjourned until 1pm tomorrow.” He gaveled, then addressed to Tilly as she resumed her assigned seat at the left end of the dais. “Ma'am, do you be available tomorrow at 1pm debriefing us further?”

“Yes, sir,” Tilly said, smiling to her chairman.

“Would you like to have dinner tonight and maybe discuss this in more depth. I’d love to find out how you unrolled this program to the public.”

“I’ll be happy to tell you everything I know.”

“And uh… would you be willing to participate in the program while we conduct our meeting?”

Tilly’s eyes shifted to the floor for just a moment, but she wasn’t too embarrassed by the request. Every time she dressed like this, she got asked out on dates.

“Of course, sir.”

“Great, meet at my Rayburn building office at seven. Ranking member Payton, I offer you an invitation to join us, and work through any objection you may raise?”

Debriefing Threesome

When Tilly arrived at the senator’s office that evening, she had kept most of her original dress from earlier in the day. The shoes and skirt remained the same; she’d simply replaced her blouse with a tighter one, that was very low cut, exposing a good quarter inch or more of areola. Too much movement easily led to more compromising positions, but Tilly enjoyed that look of anticipation on men when they were scoping her cleavage. Ever since the program started, she had become more and more accustomed and receptive to participating in it. One day, Tilly even went completely naked in her Honolulu office, just to test the legal boundaries, as well as her own.

“Come in!” shouted Hobert, as Tilly knocked at the door. She entered, surprised to see Senator Shara Payton standing next to the senior senator.

“I invited Shara over before we head out to dinner,” said Hobert. “We just want a brief recap of this program, if you don’t mind.”

Shara interrupted before Tilly could reply. “Lord Jesus! Look at what you’re still wearing. Really? What are you still trying to prove, Tilly?”

Tilly paused, a bit insulted, and took a deep breath. “The DTA Program does not allow shaming, We’ve only had two campus citations for that since starting the program, but we do enforce it. Most people who participate - and again, this is only at the universities & grad schools- anyway, most people have had no problems abiding by the rules.”

“The rules?” asked Shara.

“Well, the specific kind of dress allowed; or as we like to say, encouraged.”

“Forcefully encouraged?” asked Hobert.

“We haven’t had to force anyone, to my knowledge. Mostly, we allowed the girls to dip their toes in the water, for no better term. Once a few girls did it, others followed suit and within a couple weeks, everyone. It’s just expected now, I guess you could say. Keep in mind that females are naturally competitive, too. We compete for guys’ attentions and more. When the rules of the game change, all competitors either adapt to the new playing conditions, or cease to remain competitive. It’s also a natural law.”

“Fine, tell me about this dress code,” said Shara. “Would I be allowed to wear this?”

Shara was top heavy, but she had a nice figure. In her late forties, Shara has come far in politics, and her sexual charms are part of DC’s gossip legacy. Her hips are wider than average, but less than one might expect for one with such a large luscious bust. She’s currently wearin

Childhood Friends: Part 3

Thu, 23 Nov 2023 20:04:07 -0600

steamy-story-podcast:

Francesca’s Garden of Pleasures
By neruval442. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
I woke to a feeling of bliss, still flanked by two beautiful women, one of them my beloved Beth. She smiled as she always did when we woke together. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself.”
I felt Francesca stirring. “Buongiorno” she wished us as she stretched luxuriantly.
Keep reading

Childhood Friends: Part 2

Thu, 23 Nov 2023 20:03:06 -0600

steamy-story-podcast:

Keeping sexual secrets

By neruval442. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

I woke the next morning to the smell of bacon, and Beth appeared in the doorway with a tray. “Thought I’d treat you,” she grinned, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I bit into a bacon sandwich. “Um.”

Beth picked up her mug, sipping, and I detected a hint of anxiety in her expression. “Are you Okay?” I queried.

“I’m fine, really. But Mom will be back later, and I’m not sure how she’d feel if you stayed over again.”

I nodded. “Do you want to tell her about, well, about us?”

Keep reading

Perry the Galactic Penis: Part 2

Thu, 23 Nov 2023 20:00:42 -0600

steamy-story-podcast:

A movement grows.

by Krosis. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Scene 4: Mom visits her neighbor.

On the way to school, Ed asked Perry, “So where are you from, originally?”

“Long way from here, Ed. not even sure you’d have a proper frame of reference.“

“How am I hearing you in my head?”

“ I told you before, dude, we are one. If you work at it, you won’t even have to vocalize for me to ‘hear’ you.“

“Really? Cool.” He continued walking. “Hey, Perry?”

There was no response. “Perry?”

“Knock knock!” Eve Doughtry called out, looking in through her neighbor Darla’s screen door. Her friend’s pretty face poked out from the kitchen.

“Eve! C'mon in!”

Keep reading

Jenna Goes To Church: Part 3

Thu, 23 Nov 2023 07:30:41 -0600

A Visit From The Bishop

By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Reverend Morris anxiously paced back and forth in the lounge. He was in turmoil; he’d just received a letter from Bishop George, who was planning to visit him. On top of that, he’d been agonizing all day how to finally tell Lucy that their marriage was over. The past few weeks had seen his safe and somewhat dull life turned upside down. Ever since that romp with Jenna Fox in the vestry. What seemed to be a wild, one-off had now morphed into a passionate relationship. Now the vicar was seriously falling in love with the much younger woman.

And what about Christopher? His four-year old son had just started school. Now a way would have to be found to gently break the news that Mummy and Daddy would no longer be living together. How would he cope with that? Then there would be the gossips at church. Some of the older members of the congregation would tut and register their disapproval. A vicar of all people, a role model and pillar of the community, cheating on his wife with a woman twenty years his junior! Every week he preached about being a good Christian. Now he couldn’t help but feel he was nothing but a hypocrite.

“Bishop George won’t take kindly to this,” he remarked. The man was known not to suffer fools gladly.

Hearing Lucy’s car pull up on the drive, Reverend Morris took a deep breath. It was confession time. He fiddled with his thumbs as the front door opened.

“Hello, um, oh you’re back a bit later than normal? Um, where’s Christopher?”

“I dropped him off at your mum’s,” Lucy replied. “Simon, we need to talk. I have to tell you something really important. It can’t wait.”

“I, had a feeling you might say that. There’s something I need to tell you too, you see I,”

Lucy took his hand and beckoned him to sit next to her on the settee.

"Simon. I’ve not been honest with you for some time now. It’s not fair, and you have every right to feel angry. I’ve treated you terribly these past few years, pushing you away, shutting you out. Then six months ago, it happened. This is hard for me to explain,”

"Please tell me,” Reverend Morris replied. “Is there, someone else?”

Lucy sighed. “Yes. I, I’m so sorry, Simon.”

Suddenly, the reverend felt less guilty. That they’d both met other people made it more bearable. But there was still their son to think about.

“I see. Is he, someone from church?”

“Yes, but, it’s she,” Lucy replied.

Reverend Morris blinked. “She? Oh,”

"Debbie Adams, you know, she teaches at the Sunday school? That’s why it’s been so difficult. So yeah, it’s 2022, but it’s still hard to be gay, and a vicar’s wife. Especially in a tight-knit community like St Michael’s. Many nights, I have sat and prayed to God. I asked him for courage and forgiveness. For how I have sinned.”

He took her hand. “I’m happy you found the courage to be yourself. And to fall in love isn’t a sin, Lucy.”

“You’re a wonderful man, Simon. You’re being so understanding about this. I’ve been dreading saying anything, but I needn’t have worried.”

Reverend Morris awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “I would’ve supported you no matter what. Um, but I guess now’s the right time to confess that I’ve been seeing someone else too.”

Lucy smiled. “Oh really?”

“Um, you know Jenna? She goes to church. Jenna Fox?”

“Blimey, Simon. Oh yes. I’ve seen her. She is really attractive, not my type, but a stunner. I can see why you fell for her.”

Reverend Morris’ face was turning red. “I worry about the age gap though, I mean she’s twenty and I’ve just turned forty, that’s not a good look is it? Others will disapprove.”

“Simon, love is love. These others you speak of will just have to deal with it.”

“Bishop George won’t approve. He’s planning to visit me in the next few days.”

“I don’t think he’s the monster you make him out to be. He seems pretty liberal deep down. Didn’t he once have a much younger wife?” Lucy asked.

“Yes, she was called Julia. She left him for a Catholic priest.”

“Ouch.”

“Who was older than him! The priest was defrocked of course and he and Julia emigrated to the Costa del Sol, where they now run a beachfront bar called Unholy Orders,”

"About Christopher,” Lucy began. “We should tell him together.”

Reverend Morris nodded.

Another Sunday and another morning Eucharist at St Michael’s. Josh the curate was at the door, welcoming the faithful. Yulia and a group of other young woman grinned at him as they went inside. Normally, Josh would’ve nodded and blushed, but not anymore. Today he shook their hands, smiled back and had a little chat with them. When he noticed Jenna approaching, the curate’s smile widened some more.

“Hello Jenna!”

“Good morning!” Jenna said. “Nice day for it.”

“Nice day for what?” Josh replied, winking at her.

“Naughty boy. Nice day for a church service of course! Looks like you have some female admirers over there,” she said, glancing at Yulia and her friends.

There was a notable absence in the church - John Norris and his wife were nowhere to be seen. The gossip-mongering pensioners who sat in the front pew wasted no time in digesting this new information.

“Well I heard that he moved out for a few days. They had a blazing row at the Harvest Social.”

“Margaret saw Patricia on the bus. Talk about having the wind taken out of your sails. She was beside herself.”

“Best place for her. A poison-tongued harpy of the highest order! I feel sorry for John. He doesn’t need that sort of upset. He’s on beta-blockers. They’ve decided to have a few days in Wales, to try and patch things up.”

“If my husband had been writing the sort of stuff like Patricia put on the Internet, I’d have told him to sling his hook!”

Tony had volunteered to read the first reading, which was from the Book of Revelation. He twitched and sniffed as he spoke, and got a little carried away as he went on.

“Then I saw coming from the mouth of the dragon, the mouth of the beast, and the mouth of the false prophet, three foul spirits like frogs. These spirits were devils, with power to work miracles. They were sent out to muster all the kings of the world for the great day of battle of God the sovereign Lord!”

“He’ll have a stroke if he carries on like that,” the old ladies whispered.

Tony continued. “This is the day when I come like a thief! Happy the man who stays awake and keeps on his clothes, so that he will not have to go naked and ashamed for all to see!”

Some small children sat at the front looked terrified.

“This is the Word of the Lord!”

Tony sat down. The second reading was a much calmer passage from Romans. Jenna smiled when Reverend Morris took to the pulpit, ready to deliver his sermon.

“Today, I’d like to talk all about love, forgiveness and honesty,” he began. “I’m sure you’ve all heard that old saying. If you love someone, let them go. Why not hold onto them if you love them?

Isn’t love supposed to be fighting for that person no matter what?

Through the fights, the struggles, and the pain, shouldn’t we keep trying to keep the relationship going? The true meaning of loving someone and letting them go starts with being selfless, not selfish. There is another old saying. Honesty is the best policy. Ladies and gentlemen, I am going to be honest with you all today. My wife Lucy and I are getting divorced.

Several loud gasps arose from the congregation. Jenna glanced round, trying to remain composed. She shifted anxiously in the uncomfortable pew. Was the vicar going to mention her name?

"That’s right. I know this will come as a shock to you all. You see, both of us have fallen for different people. Now, whilst we may no longer have romantic love for each other, we still care about each other. As you know, Lucy and I have a young son, Christopher, and his welfare is of paramount importance. Our split has been completely amicable. Lucy has moved out of the vicarage and we have agreed a 50/50 shared custody,”

Josh looked up at the vicar in sympathetic understanding, as did Gordon. Meanwhile, some of the old ladies looked to be on the verge of nervous breakdowns. Jenna’s heart was pounding.

"I’m not asking for forgiveness,” Reverend Morris continued. “I know what some of you must be thinking. What sort of vicar preaches about the sanctity of marriage, and seven deadly sins, the shame of sin, and lo, he has sinned himself. I won’t think ill of any of you. I have spoken to God and believe he has forgiven Lucy and I.”

Suddenly, Tony stood up. “Good for ya, Vicar! You’re a top bloke. You helped me get off the crack. So like, I’d forgive you anything, man.” He started clapping. Jenna joined in, and moments later, the rest of the congregation broke out in applause.

Sat at the organ, Gordon was clapping furiously. He noticed Jenna gazing adoringly at the vicar and gave a wry smile. “I wonder who his new woman could be?” He said to himself.

Jenna made her way straight to the vicarage after the service ended, intending to prepare herself ready for Reverend Morris. She was hornier than usual, and had much to discuss with the vicar. He’d given her a key to let herself in with.

Alone in the house, Jenna removed her conservative clothing and changed into a far racier outfit - a short black dress, with lacy red panties underneath. She was just touching up her makeup, when there was a knock on the door.

“Oh he’s back already,” she smiled. The vicarage was only five minutes from the church. “Guess he didn’t bother to go to the church hall,”

Jenna opened the door. "I’m feeling sinful, oh! Er, hello!”

Instead of the vicar, a stern-looking man who was the spitting image of Frollo from Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame, was standing there.

“Good morning,” the mystery man replied. The clerical collar, purple shirt and cross round his neck were obvious indicators that he was a church person, but Jenna had never seen him before.

“Um, can I help you, sir?”

“Is Reverend Simon Morris in?” the man replied.

“No, he’s still at the church. He won’t be long. Can I take a message?”

“I’d prefer to come in and wait. I’m Bishop George. The Reverend is expecting me.”

The bishop? Yikes, Jenna thought. He’s the vicar’s boss. I’d better behave myself. She glanced at him as he entered the lounge.

At least, I must try to behave myself,

Bishop George sat down on the couch. “You must be the babysitter?”

Jenna was tempted to lie, but lying to a bishop felt like a great sin, so she declined. “No. I’m, a friend of the vicar.”

Bishop George nodded. “Ah yes. I didn’t think you were a babysitter. Seeing as Lucy and Christopher have moved out. I admire your honesty, my dear.”

Jenna froze. Shit. Does he know everything? Did Reverend Morris have to confess everything to the bishop in private? Or had he been lurking somewhere in the church earlier and left before she did?

“Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Tea please. Milk and one sugar,” Bishop George replied.

“Right, coming up,” Jenna turned and bumped into the coffee table, knocking some books onto the floor.

"Clumsy me,” she muttered, and bent down to pick them up, exposing her red lacy panties.

Bishop George wasn’t prepared for such a sight and let out a gasp.

A few minutes later, Jenna returned with a cup of tea. “Here you are, um, Reverend? I’m sorry, I don’t know how to address a bishop, I’ve never met a bishop before!”

“Just call me George.” He replied, taking the cup. “Thanks so much. You must be Jenna, yes?”

“Yes.”

“I know about you,” he continued. “I spoke to Reverend Morris by phone a few weeks ago, when the Queen died. There was a notable increase in his happiness, and I could tell he was really excited about something. He was eager to tell me that there’d been an increase in people attending St Michael’s. Then he mentioned you. Several times. And then I realized,”

Jenna sat directly opposite him in an armchair. Her legs were crossed. "What did you realize, George?”

She uncrossed her legs.

Bishop George felt his cheeks flush. She’d removed her panties in the kitchen!

Jenna Pleases the Bishop

Bishop George twitched as a brief tantalizing glimpse of something forbidden was revealed to him.

But the panties, those glorious red lace panties! What had she done with them?

“Well,” he began, a little hoarsely, "you’ve obviously had quite the effect on him.”

“It’s like history repeating itself,” he added.

“What do mean by that?”

“Oh, nothing.” Bishop George muttered, sipping his tea. “You just reminded me of someone I once knew, that’s all.”

Jenna thought carefully for a moment, trying to read the bishop. So far, his self-control was admirable. Had she finally met her match with this man of the church? Behind that stern exterior, she sensed there was a man in need of some attention. She didn’t know how old Bishop George was, but at a guess he was in his sixties. He was the oldest man she had encountered so far.

Still, as the old saying goes - many a fine tune played on an old fiddle!

“What do you think of St Michael’s, then? You must know all kinds of churches.” Jenna continued, trying to think up idle conversation.

He finished his tea. “Some churches are drawn to controversy in the same manner that flies are drawn to shite. I’m pleased to say that St Michael’s has resisted that.”

“Right. I see. I’m surprised you haven’t cut yourself with that tongue of yours, Bishop George!”

He reclined slightly in the armchair. “I have drawn blood on several occasions. I speak my mind, Jenna. I can’t stand these churches who abandon their core purpose in an attempt to woo those who have no interest in ever following the teachings of God. I’m talking about those "trendy vicars” who install helter-skelters, massive art installations and the like in ancient churches and cathedrals. A church is a place of worship, not bloody Alton Towers,”

“Oh yes. You’re right,” Jenna said. “I’d better make sure I keep on your good side, then!”

Bishop George gave a slight grin. “And tell me, how would you keep on my good side, Jenna?”

“I prefer to show rather than tell!” He straightened in his chair as she walked over to him. “You seem rather tense, Bishop. I think you need to relax!” Jenna chuckled and sat in his lap. Initially shocked, Bishop George soon slid his arms around her.

“There you are. Beginning to enjoy yourself?” She said, playfully running a finger around his clerical collar.

“It’s been a long time since I enjoyed myself like this,” he murmured, planting kisses along her neck and jawline. One of his hands slid round and inside her low-cut dress. Bishop George cupped a breast, gently squeezing it, pinching the nipple. Jenna moaned at his sensual fondling. A powerful desire deep within the bishop began to stir also. The ease at which this young woman had penetrated his unforgiving exterior, stunned him. He was pleasantly surprised at how painfully hard he quickly became, and his cock ached to be freed from his clothing. Jenna’s lips met his and their kisses grew ever more hot and demanding. Her hand slid down and brushed his crotch. There was no hiding the bulge of his arousal.

“Oh Bishop!” Jenna cooed, rubbing it. He let out a moan. She unbuttoned the lower buttons of his shirt and started on his belt. Resigned to his fate, Bishop George happily reclined in the chair.

And then Jenna got a surprise as she unzipped his trousers. “Oh my. What pretty panties.” She never imagined the bishop would be wearing women’s underwear.

Bishop George froze, as his secret was revealed. “Damn.” He’d forgotten he’d put those on. “It’s a fetish,” he prattled nervously. “I, I can’t help it. It’s a need I have.”

“Hey, nothing wrong with that, Bishop.” Jenna replied. “I love wearing silk ones too. But right now, I’m more interested in what’s inside your panties,”

She pulled them down, wrapped her fingers around his cock and gently stroked it. For an older guy, the bishop certainly had a nice-looking cock. "Umm. How tempting!”

“It’s been quite a while since it last saw any use.”

“What a shame. Let’s change that, shall we?”

Jenna moved down between Bishop George’s legs as he sat up slightly with a cushion behind his back. She took his cock in her hands and while she looked into his dark brown eyes, she began licking and sucking the thick shaft. On her knees so she could get the entire length in her mouth, one hand holding his balls gently. Soon her head was bobbing on the bishop’s cock, the shaft wet and glistening.

Bishop George was in heaven; groaning in ecstasy as this red-haired beauty worked his member. It had been too long, and he relished every second of this sweet pleasure.

“Oh Bishop, I have to convince myself to stop licking and sucking it, and fight the impulse to have you cum in my mouth.” Jenna said, as she stopped. “I want your cum in my cunt.”

Without further hesitation, Bishop George rose from the chair and led her over to the dining table. He didn’t even bother to push the table mats aside as he heaved her up on the oak surface, lifting up her dress and pushing her backwards. His tongue ran long, hard strokes up her inner thighs. He shoved her clothing up more, exposing her mound to him. Jenna lifted a leg over his shoulder, giving him full access. He lapped her outer lips, tasting her tantalizing wetness. What a cunt! It was as divine as he imagined.

She gasped and curled her fingers when he slipped a finger inside her folds. Whilst his bony fingers worked their magic, he sucked on the nub at the top of her sex. A low moan escaped Jenna’s lips. Bishop George hurriedly cast off his jacket and pushed his trousers and panties down to his ankles. He grabbed her hips, his cock finding her waiting passage. Jenna wrapped her legs around his

Jenna Goes To Church: Part 2

Wed, 22 Nov 2023 07:30:38 -0600

The Curate loses his virginity.

By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

At this Sunday’s service, there was much talk of the upcoming harvest festival. Members of the congregation were encouraged to donate fruit and vegetables, along with non-perishable items for the local foodbank.

Jenna had made an effort and brought along a bag of apples. She placed the bag on the side table in the church hall.

“I don’t know how a brazen hussy like you has the cheek to set foot in a church.”

Jenna remained calm, as she turned to face Mrs. Norris. “Well I’m a Christian, the same as you.”

“Huh! Christian my foot. I saw what you and the organist were getting up to and I think it’s disgusting! In the church of all places! And he’s old enough to be your father!”

“Well if you clutch those pearls of yours any tighter they’ll crumble to dust. And Gordon and I happen to be consenting adults. Single consenting adults. So there.”

“Why you, you, .horrid little slag!” Mrs. Norris fumed, lip quivering. She stormed off.

Jenna exhaled and rolled her eyes.

“Coffee or tea?” a friendlier voice asked. It was Debbie, the Sunday school teacher, who was volunteering to do today’s hot drinks rota in the hall.

“Tea please,” Jenna replied.

“You ok?”

“Yeah. I don’t think I’ll be on her Christmas card list.”

“Don’t let that old bag get to you. She’s a nasty one. She’s horribly ageist. Not to mention xenophobic too. I overheard her mocking Yulia’s English skills last week. I can’t stand her. Her husband’s not that bad, he’s a tedious fusspot, but there’s no malice in him. But her, she’s poison.”

“I heard her hubby spreads gossip on Facebook.” Jenna said.

“More likely that’s her doing.” Debbie replied. “I’d be surprised if John Norris even knows how to switch on a laptop.”

A brief chill ran through Jenna. What if Mrs. Norris were to post some bile about her online? “I don’t use social media anymore,” she said. “Briefly poked my nose into Twitter as a teen, but didn’t like the pile-ons.”

“Wise. I’m on Facebook, but only to keep up with church stuff. I never post anything about my private life. I imagine Mrs. Norris would have a stroke if she knew I was dating a woman. A married woman at that. Keep it to yourself. I’m not ready to come out yet.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t say a word.”

Jenna sipped her tea quietly as she observed the other members of the congregation file into the hall. She was hoping Reverend Morris would soon arrive, but after fifteen minutes, there was still no sign of him. Then there was Gordon; he never came into the hall after a service, and he’d sent her that amusing text message on Friday, about Charles Wesley and his “bulging hymn book.”

She headed out of the hall, in search of Gordon, when Josh the curate came staggering in, carrying a massive pile of hymn books. He almost collided with Jenna and dropped a couple of books.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Josh stammered. “How clumsy of me.”

Jenna bent down and picked up the books. “You’re loaded up like a pack horse. Let me give you a hand. Where are you taking all these?”

“Um. So kind!” His pale cheeks went pink. “The storeroom at the far end of the hall. These are spare hymn books.”

“Ok. Lead the way. By the way, you haven’t seen the vicar have you?”“

"Oh, he and the organist are in a meeting. One of the organ pipes has just been repaired.”

“Damn,” Jenna muttered under her breath. “Oh dear. How sad. I guess he’ll miss his tea and biscuits.”

She followed Josh down to the storeroom. She’d never paid much attention to the curate before, but looking at him now, she realized that he was rather cute. Mid-twenties, tall and stocky with fair hair and a chubby face. There was an endearing innocence about him. Reverend Morris had said he was hoping to complete his ordination next year and become a fully-fledged vicar. He’d been impressed by his devotion to the church - but he needed to come out of his shell a bit and interact more with worshippers. Josh was a shy man and lacking in self-confidence. Remembering this information made Jenna smile.

I think this innocent curate needs some other kind of help,

The storeroom was vast, and crammed from floor to ceiling with box files, books, old furniture and plastic crates.

“Holy sh,, I didn’t know this room existed. And what a lot of stuff for one small church!” Jenna exclaimed.

“Heh, yeah.” Josh said, putting the books down. “It’s not just for St Michael’s. We share it with St John’s and the Methodist church on Oakwood Road.”

Jenna began putting the books on the shelf.

“Um you don’t need to do that,”

"Jenna.”

Josh blushed again. “Jenna. It’s kind of you to do that but,”

"Oh I don’t mind. Why should you have to do all the donkey work? This room is a tip. Besides, a good Christian should help others, right? Especially the vicar’s right-hand man. That’s what a curate is, yes?”

Josh relaxed a bit. “Pretty much, yeah. Like Batman and Robin.”

“Have you always wanted to be a curate?”

Josh sat down on a stool. “In truth, no way. I wasn’t religious at all when I was a kid. I suffered from crippling shyness. I used to dread being asked to read in front of the class. When I was ten, my dad walked out, and that affected me a lot. Haven’t seen him since. Mum turned to drink, I relied on my grandad for support. He became a father figure to me. He used to be a vicar. Thanks to him I survived my teens and passed my exams. I was eighteen when he died. That’s when I decided I wanted to follow in his footsteps. Without him - and God, I fear, well I may have gone down a dark path. Got in with a bad crowd. Taken drugs, self-harmed, maybe ended up in jail.”

“Wow.” Jenna replied, realizing how cosseted and safe her upbringing had been. “Well I’m so glad your grandad was there for you.”

“There are still days when I doubt myself and I’m in a bad place. I feel useless.”

“Don’t put yourself down,” Jenna said, walking towards him. “You’re an amazing role model, especially for younger people.”

Josh blinked. “You, think so?”

“I do. Plus, you’re really cute. Has a girl ever told you that before?”

Josh blushed. “Err, no-one except my Nan. I don’t think she counts.”

“Women round here must be blind,” Jenna added, making him squirm with embarrassment. She leant forward and planted a kiss on his lips. He trembled, cheeks turning redder.

“J-Jenna, don’t,”

"It’s alright Josh. You’re not committing a sin or anything. We’re not inside the church, if that’s you’re worried about.”

“N-no, it’s not that. I, um,” The curate sighed. "I, I’m just scared of, I don’t know if I can, do this.”

She already knew he was single and straight, but decided to question him. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No, but, um, that’s the problem really. I’d like one, but I wouldn’t know how to tell her,”

Jenna stroked his arm. "Tell her what?”

“I worry she’d laugh at me.”

“Josh. Whatever it is, I promise I would never laugh at you. And I will understand.”

He looked down. “Shit. I’m twenty-five. And I’m still a virgin! I’ve never gone beyond kissing a girl.”

She kissed his cheek again. “Oh Josh. That’s nothing to feel awkward about. In fact I admire you. In this age when we’re bombarded with over-sexualized imagery 24/7 both online and offline, finding someone who’s chosen to wait is pretty awesome in my opinion. I lost mine just days after reaching the age of consent. I couldn’t wait to lose it. But that’s just me,”

"Yeah but, I, um,”

She pulled him to his feet and gently coaxed the truth out of him. "You want to lose your virginity, yes?”

“More than anything. But, dating today is scary. It’s a minefield. Especially after Me Too. I’m afraid. I don’t want to say the wrong thing and come across as some horny creep,”

Jenna held back a chuckle. Mrs. Norris probably thinks of me as a horny creep. She thought.

"I get that. But trust me. I don’t think a sweet, kind-hearted man of God like you could ever be a creep. Horny yes, nothing wrong with that of course.” She winked at him and he gulped. “How about it? I think you’re ready right now.”

His eyes widened. “W-what? Here?”

“Why not? It’s nice and private, And you’re a really sexy curate!” Her face was just inches from his own, hovering there. Then her lips were on his, dancing there softly for a moment before pulling away.

“Jenna,” He was already rock hard, and hoped his cassock had disguised this fact.

"Shush. You’re very special.” She whispered, barely audible. “You’re warm, caring, You’re strong. You deserve to be experience the joys of the flesh.” She kissed him again. It’s okay to feel nervous. First time is always a bit nerve-racking. But just relax. You’ll be just fine,”

What an adorable lamb to the slaughter, Jenna thought to herself. He’s so scared and unsure. I’ve never seduced a virgin before, so I’d better not go too hard on him. I do love a challenge. With a bit of encouragement, this sweet guy could have real potential.

The touch of her lips sent a fire through his body, a jolt that brought a tingle to every micron of his skin. “Oh, Jenna!”

“Shhh.” Her lips caressed his own, then his nose, his ear. “Don’t talk just now, okay?”

“Mmm?”

She kissed him again, gently caressing his upper lip between her own. At last, he responded.

“Josh.” Jenna smiled cheekily. “You’re a pretty good kisser, you know that?”

“Really?”

Just relax. I’m not going anywhere, there’s no rush. All we have to do is discover each other. There’s no hurry. No-one’s going to come in here. I imagine the vicar will be busy for ages.“

Jenna ran her hand down the front of his black cassock. "Oh my, you’re more than ready. "Let’s get these buttons unfastened.” She knelt before him, opening the cassock and revealing the black trousers underneath. And another straining crotch bulge.

“I’m going to worship you,” she whispered, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. Josh was wearing plain black briefs underneath. It was fun seeing the different types of undies men wore. First there was Reverend Morris with his “holy boxers,” then Gordon and his sensible white y-fronts, now Josh with smart black tight-fitting briefs.

“Everything will be fine. I promise. Close your eyes if it makes you feel better, okay?”

The curate hesitated still, but Jenna’s smile was reassuring and gentle. “I promise you’ll like it.” With a shudder, Josh squeezed his eyes tight as his trousers and underwear were lowered, and he could feel the cool air of the room, then Jenna’s warm breath on his manhood.

“There we are.”

He couldn’t resist a peek, through half-closed eyes. He was painfully stiff, of course, harder than he’d ever been in his life, but he didn’t need his eyes to tell him that. He shivered as Jenna ran her hand through his pubes and stooped to kiss him there. He gasped as her smooth palm encircled him.

“Oh my God!”

“Mmm. So beautiful. Truly God’s gift to women. Just relax, don’t fight the feeling. Isn’t it nice?” Jenna kissed the very tip of his member, and he gasped and moaned, his muscles tensing. “Don’t fight it now Josh, just let the feelings come. Relax and let it take you. You don’t have to hold it back, just let it come.” With that, she closed her lips around his head, tasted him with her tongue.

“Uh! Oh Jesus!” The curate groaned. The crescendo was boiling in him now, wonderful and frightening and exhilarating. Nothing could have prepared him for the warm embrace of a woman’s mouth, the slight roughness of her tongue as she rolled it up and down his length. No porn, no fantasy could have approached the sensation of her lips gently drawing on his cock, coaxing him towards a peak of indescribable pleasure. The fire was in him and around him, consuming him and his thoughts until all that he was became the connection with her, his flesh and her mouth. Her hands cradled his cock gently as he built towards climax, his breathing becoming rapid and shallow.

“Oh,”

"Let it come.”

Josh sighed deeply in relief as Jenna enveloped him again, shuddered as he felt himself swell between her lips, as he released himself to her, surrendered to her, spurting his cum. She lingered over his manhood, slowly coaxing him down from the heights of his ecstasy. She gently licked his shaft and kissed a drop of his essence from the tip, and smiled up at him.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” She said, standing up. “Did you enjoy your first blowjob?”

“Jenna. Fucking hell!”

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Yes!” he gasped.

“Oh good. Because we’re not done yet. You don’t get off that easily you know!” Jenna began unfastening her skirt, letting it fall to the floor. Josh’s eyes widened. She wasn’t wearing any panties.

An old, battered table was in the middle of the storeroom. Jenna cleared it and reclined on it, spreading her legs and unfastening her blouse. No bra!

“Your turn.”

Josh crossed himself.

“Just trust your instincts.” She whispered, lowering herself onto her back. Josh stared at her for a second, dumbstruck by her beauty and timid as a deer. Her gently smiling face and the flowing red hair that framed it, the round fullness of her breasts, her long legs, and the tantalizing lure of her wet womanhood between,

Finding his courage at last, Josh moved close. With a shaky hand he reached out and tentatively cupped her left breast. Tracing the nipple with his thumb, ever so gently.

“Mmm nice, Josh. Keep going!”

Encouraged, Josh lowered his mouth to her other breast, the memory of the delightful sensations she’d given him earlier fresh in his mind. He felt her run her fingers through his short blonde hair as he tasted her with his tongue, heard her sigh as he closed his lips around her nipple.

“Gently now.”

“Sorry!”

The curate feasted on her breasts for a bit longer, before moving down to her abdomen, planting more kisses, then he paused for a moment. Jenna said nothing, silently urging him to carry on, and he did. Tentatively, he kissed the inside of her thighs, tracing a finger through the trimmed hair above her slit.

Josh continued to lovingly kiss her thighs, his nerves beginning to fade. The heady scent of her was overpowering, emboldening him to trail a finger between her cunt lips. The wetness he felt there surprised him, and he glanced up.

“You’re doing great, Josh.” Jenna answered in a throaty whisper. “Please don’t stop.”

He ran a finger over her clit, causing her to let out a moan. Lowering his head, he caressed her softly with his mouth, tasting her.

“Oh Josh,” He suckled gently on her clit and she let out a scream.

"Jenna?” He pulled away from her, his fear returning. “Did I hurt you?”

“No Josh. It was incredible, that’s all. When you licked me down there, wow. You sure know how to thrill a woman. You learn quick! But don’t make me cum just yet. Because I want you inside me when it happens.”

Josh’s heart leapt into his throat. “Oh,”

"Are you ready?”

“Um, but protection, I-I don’t have a condom,”

"It’s okay, you don’t need to worry. I’m on the Pill.”

“Oh, right. Good,”

"Think of this as doing God’s work,” Jenna purred, urging him to get on with it. She was eager to feel that virgin cock inside her.

Slowly he positioned himself above her on the creaking table. Jenna took his cock in her hand, guiding him. He felt the head of his organ nestle inside her.

“Lord in Heaven!” It was such exquisite torture, fighting the urge to cum as fast as he could. The feel of her cunt as it sheathed him was beyond even the joys he’d felt already.

At first, he slipped in and out of her slowly. He buried his face in her neck.

“Umm, oh God Josh. Yes! Go harder!”

Jenna slowly relaxed her control, allowing him to work his cock in and out of her more forcefully. He thrust in deep, as far as he could, and gasped, savoring the sensation.

“Oh Josh, that’s so good!”

He speeded up, as she wrapped her legs round him. Soon he was pounding her like a pro.

“Jenna!” He could feel his climax coming now, a mighty force of almost Biblical proportions. Just as Jesus drove out many devils, Josh drove out his virginity, casting it aside forever. He’d been freed.

“Ugh!” With a roar of release the curate came, filling Jenna’s womanhood with his seed. Josh wasn’t sure how long his orgasm lasted. But he knew that it was wonderful, an epiphany of sensation, and that Jenna writhed and gasped in the throes of her own climax in perfect harmony with his.

When they’d both calmed down, Jenna held him close and kissed him. “Are you okay? You were amazing, Josh, do you know that? How are you feeling?”

“Just fantastic, absolutely fantastic! I, wow. That was, incredible. Um, do you mind if I say a quick prayer for both of us?”

“Not at all. You go ahead.”

When he’d finished, he opened his eyes and looked at Jenna, who was smiling broadly. “You are going to become a bloody amazing vicar!” She said.

An Erotic Dream & an organ lesson.

T'was the Year of Our Lord 1739, and on a road bound for London, weary preacher and hymn writer Charles Wesley had just arrived at a tavern.

“Innkeeper! I hath been riding all day and my poor horse be in the great need of water and rest. As am I.” Charles said.

“Fear thee not, good fellow, I’ll tend to thine horse!” The innkeeper replied. “If it’s a room for the night you’re looking for, then ye hath come to the

Jenna Goes To Church: Part 1

Tue, 21 Nov 2023 07:30:46 -0600

Jenna enjoys sexuality without shame, in the church.

By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Jenna seduces the Vicar.

St Michael’s parish church was a charming place of worship that dated back to the 12th century. A quaint little church, the sort that one could see in countless towns and villages across England. Within its walls however, all was not well. Ill-feeling festered among some of the male members of the church, the vicar included. But God, in his great mercy and wisdom, saw fit to send a beautiful angel to this church, in order to bring happiness.

And so, our story begins,

Reverend Simon Morris was a vicar who hadn’t gotten laid in a long time. Aged forty, he’d been at St Michael’s for nearly three years now. He prided himself on the success he’d had in increasing the congregation of this little church. The previous vicar, Reverend Smith, had died very suddenly from a stroke back in 2019, leaving the community devastated. Reverend Morris knew he had big boots to fill. So far, God had been with him all the way. He’d steered the church through the Covid pandemic and defied orders to close it during the lockdowns. This action had earned him a lot of respect, not to mention he’d gained a few more loyal sheep who’d deserted other churches.

There was just one area where God had been unable to help him - his sexless marriage. He’d been married to Lucy for nearly ten years now and they had a four year old son, Christopher. Unfortunately, it was shortly after Christopher’s birth that the avenue of carnal pleasure was closed off to him. He’d tried everything to re-ignite the spark, but nothing worked. Now Christopher had started primary school, Reverend Morris had hoped that things would improve, but instead, he and Lucy drifted further apart. He kept up the appearance that everything was perfect, during the many social functions he had to hold at the vicarage. Inside however, his frustration threatened to overwhelm him.

“O Lord God, who hast called thy servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown: Give us faith to go out with a good courage, not knowing whither we go, but only that thy hand is leading us, and thy love supporting us; to the glory of thy Name.

Amen.”

Reverend Morris said a quick prayer to himself as he shook hands with the last of the members of the congregation. He let out a sigh of relief. Another Sunday service had passed - with an increase in numbers. He looked at his watch. He had a brief few minutes to head to the vestry, change out of his cassock and surplice, and pop over to the church hall for tea and biscuits. The usual chit chat with his faithful flock.

The nosey old ladies, Josh, the new and nervous curate, Yulia the Ukrainian refugee and her two young children, Amir and Majid, the Iranian brothers who’d fled persecution in their homeland due to being Christians, Debbie the single mother and Sunday school teacher, Tony the reformed drug addict, Mr. and Mrs. Norris, the church’s resident do-gooders; a pair of boomers who made it their business to know more about the C of E than the Archbishop of Canterbury,

Then there was Jenna Fox. Twenty, red haired and absolutely stunning. And too young for him.

He’d spotted her in the congregation earlier, but not on the way out. Which could only mean,

“Good morning Reverend!” Jenna said, bold as brass, sauntering out of the toilets, where she’d obviously been waiting for the others to depart.

“Oh, good morning Jenna,” Reverend Morris replied, staring at her and then quickly averting his eyes downwards. She was wearing attire that was barely suitable for church - a low cut black top and black pleated miniskirt.

“I wore black today. For the Queen. Loved your sermon reflecting on her long reign. It was really touching.”

“Thanks. Glad you liked it. It’s been hard to write. So, are you heading over to the church hall? I’ll be there shortly.”

“Mmm, maybe later,” she grinned. “Did you know Reverend, that you actually resemble Prince Edward a bit?”

Feeling a little uncomfortable at how close she was, he felt color rise in his cheeks. “Uh, well thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment! Do excuse me Jenna, I just have to ditch these vestments, then I shall be going to the hall.”

He hurried off to the vestry. In there, he looked at himself in the mirror. He was an average-looking bloke, not the sort that a stunning younger woman would lust after.

“Well at least I’m much younger than Prince Edward.” He smiled. Suddenly, the door opened.

“You’re not getting away from me this time Reverend,” Jenna whispered, shutting the door behind her.

Before he could say anything, she’d cornered him. Glancing into his pale blue eyes for a moment, she covered his lips with hers, feeling him tense up as her arms reached round his back. After a few seconds, he relaxed, as if he knew resistance of any kind was futile. Jenna could feel the heat of his body through his cassock.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time Reverend,” she murmured. “Ever since you taught me that Introduction to Christianity course six months ago.”

“J-Jenna, this isn’t appropriate. I, I am a married man!”

“Not a very happy one, I suspect. I can always tell.” A shuddering sigh escaped him as her lips brushed his again. Jenna broke the kiss. “Is there any space in here to conduct unholy activities, Reverend?”

Powerless to resist this angel of sin, the smitten vicar grabbed her slim hips and motioned her to straddle his lap. “Jenna,” he mumbled, rubbing one thumb over the outline of her hardened bra-less nipple through her thin top. “It’s, er, been a long time since I was in a situation like this.”

“Your wife,”

"Lucy and I have been leading separate, and sexless lives for years.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. So let me bring you some salvation.”

He leaned in to kiss the exposed skin of Jenna’s neck; his lips leaving a hot trail from just below her ear to the center of her throat at the neck of her black top. Then he took the lower hem of the top and pushed it up to bare her belly, and then her pert C-cup breasts. Leaning her back, he took one nipple with his lips and she gasped. He was not only willing, but rampant; as Jenna had suspected, it had been a long time since this man had got laid.

Even with the cassock and surplice on, there was no disguising the Reverend’s raging erection. Jenna explored eagerly, desperately, reaching under the cassock, feeling his hard erection through his trousers.

Lord Jesus, Jenna was trembling so much with excitement. She’d had a clergy fetish for years and fantasized about seducing the vicar for such a long time. Reverend Morris returned his attention to her breasts and she was so wet she could almost feel herself dripping into her panties.

Without further ado, she unfastened his belt before reaching for his zipper. Reverend Morris attempted to remove his surplice.

“No, no, leave that on,” Jenna said.

“As you wish.” He mumbled holding up his cassock, almost unable to comprehend what was about to happen.

Jenna knelt in front of the vicar, pulled down the zipper of his trousers, and exposed white boxer shorts - adorned with little Christian crosses.

“Oh wow. Where did you get those, Reverend?” Jenna grinned.

He blushed. “Um, a church event I attended in London. The gift shop was quite varied,”

"Umm.” Jenna pulled down his trousers and boxers, freeing his heated cock.

“Ah. The staff of life.”

She took his hot length in her hand, feeling it, and stroked it up and down as she licked and sucked at the tip.

“Oh dear God,” Reverend Morris groaned.

As she groped his shaft, she realized just how wet with pre-cum it was.

“Ooh, Reverend you certainly have sinned,” Jenna smiled. “Nice and wet - just how I like it.” She teasingly licked the head of his cock before putting it in her mouth. She began to suck him off furiously, her head bobbing up and down faster and faster, her tongue licking the sensitive underside of his shaft.

“Oh, I am blessed!” He gasped.

Jenna licked every inch of his love pole, running her tongue cross every vein, igniting every nerve ending. The vicar cried out in joy. Then she withdrew and looked up at him.

In her throatiest, most sexy tone, she said, “Well Reverend, are you just going to stand there, or come and tame your lost sheep?”

Like a bolt of lightning, Reverend Morris kissed Jenna’s lips as if they were the sweet fruit of Eden, and lifted her up. He pulled her drenched lacy panties off. It had been too damn long since he’d had pleasure so willingly offered to him like this. He parted her legs quickly, and, with no further warning, plunged his holy rod deep into her waiting cunt. He began to establish a fast-paced rhythm which soon had them both moaning in pleasure.

“Ah hah!” Jenna gasped. “Oh, Reverend. Yes! Right there. Deeper. Deeper! God that feels amazing! Oh! Ah! Oh, Yes!”

Jenna was in a state of complete euphoria. She had dreamt about what it would feel like to be fucked by a vicar, but never in her wildest dreams did she ever think it would be this incredible. He was a skillful lover, hitting the sensitive nerves within her tunnel, bringing her ever closer to that heavenly pinnacle.

Reverend Morris began to quicken his thrusts and rammed his hard staff deeper into her yearning vagina. He felt his climax coming; it was an uncontrollable wave of ecstasy. Faster and faster he thrust, the sound of colliding skin echoing throughout the vestry. Jenna kept on riding the vicar until he blasted his cum into her like a fire hose.

“Ah! Praise the Lord!”

Jenna looked at Reverend Morris, and for the first time in years, he looked truly satisfied.

“For what I hath received, I am truly thankful,” he panted.

“Me too,” Jenna replied, her insides filled with his thick cum.

In the afterglow of their sinful fun, they kissed each other softly, caressing one another lovingly. Reverend Morris couldn’t stop smiling. So that was what he’d been missing out on. Dear God! He doubted that Lucy could ever match Jenna’s standards, even if she suddenly turned into a raving nympho.

“I suppose, we should head over to the church hall,” Jenna said, idly fingering his clerical collar. “More tea Vicar?”

Jenna Plays the Organist’s Organ

Gordon Leesmith was not having a good day. Another Sunday, another morning Eucharist at St. Michael’s, where he dutifully played the organ and directed the choir. It had all gone as planned, until the end of the service when that damned busybody John Norris had felt the need to vent his spleen.

“You played the wrong opening hymn, Gordon,” John exclaimed, as the congregation departed. “Great is Thy Faithfulness was selected, not Love Divine.”

“That’s not what the vicar told me,” Gordon muttered, not looking at him. He loathed this odious pedant.

“Anyways I just thought I’d let you know. Patricia and I were a little confused.”

“No change there then,” Gordon replied, unable to restrain himself. “Do you think maybe just for once you and wife might refrain from poking your noses into every bloody thing?”

John was so taken aback, he couldn’t speak for a moment. “Well really! There’s no need for language, Gordon. I was merely saying,”

"Don’t come the innocent with me, you’re the biggest shit-stirrer in this church. I’ve seen the gossip you spread on Facebook. And I’ll play whatever bloody hymn I like, thank you very much.”

“I wouldn’t argue in a church.”

“I’ll argue anywhere as long as I’m in the right. Now bugger off!”

Thus suitably chastised, the subdued John left, and Gordon was left to sort through his music sheets in peace. He adjusted his black robe and continued grumbling to himself. He wasn’t always as grumpy and short-tempered as this. Years ago he’d been a jolly, fun-loving chap who enjoyed joking with other members of the church.

That was before his divorce.

Gordon was fifty-five, and had been organist and choirmaster at St Michael’s for almost twenty years. Ten years ago, his wife Marjorie had run off with a man young enough to be her son. She was fifty and her lover was a twenty-five year old personal trainer. They’d met online. Gordon’s world had been knocked for six. He never imagined Marjorie would cheat on him. They’d always been so happy, with a very active sex life.

Jenna had been quietly observing the little outburst with much interest. After expressing an interest in joining the choir, Reverend Morris had warned her that the organist had the “shortest of short fuses.” When she’d pressed him further, the vicar had revealed the details of Gordon’s marital problems and sworn her to secrecy.

Jenna licked her lips. She was aching for a romp with Reverend Morris right now, but he’d been asked to conduct a service at another local church this morning, and a female vicar had stood in for him. What was a horny lass to do?

“Poor, miserable Gordon.” Jenna mused. “I doubt he gets much action. He needs cheering up.” Looking at him, she thought him quite good looking for an older man. He had a full head of silvery hair and unlike Reverend Morris, was of a stocky build. On the occasions she’d seen him minus his long black robe, he possessed quite a paunch. Jenna idly toyed with a strand of her hair, considering her next move. Gordon was giving off daddy kink vibes.

“I wonder if the organist will let me play with his organ?”

Gordon was busy rifling through hymn books and didn’t notice Jenna saunter over at first. She cleared her throat and he glanced round.

“Uh. Can I help you with something?”

“Oh hello,” Jenna replied, acting rather coy. “I, hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time, Mr,”

"Gordon. Bad time? There’s never a good time,” he muttered, giving the usual gruff response. “Nothing personal.”

“Well I just wanted to thank you, Gordon. You played my favorite hymn, Love Divine. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed it.”

His attention captured, Gordon finally put down the books he was fiddling with and sat on the organ stool, facing her. “You did?”

“I love anything by Charles Wesley. His hymns are amazing.”

“Indeed they are. He wrote thousands during his lifetime.”

Gordon certainly was hard to read. Jenna wondered if she was having any effect on him at all. His dour expression didn’t give anything away. It looked like this chap was going to be quite a challenge.

“Every week I come to church and I hear you play these lovely old hymns on this fine organ.” Jenna continued. “I love hearing you play.”

“I’ve had enough practice. I’ve been doing this for many years now.”

Evidently, Gordon wasn’t used to receiving any kind of compliments whatsoever.

Jenna walked closer. “You’re so talented.”

“Ah, well. That’s, nice of you to say. What’s your name?”

Her persistence seemed to be paying off, and the organist appeared to be getting a little flustered at her flattery.

“Jenna.”

“Do you play any musical instruments, Jenna?” Gordon replied.

“Just the piano.”

He nodded. “Good, good. For work or just a hobby?”

“Oh purely as a hobby,” she smiled, flicking her red hair. “I was wondering, please could you play a bit of Charles Wesley for me?”

Gordon’s stern face finally relaxed into a smile. “Why certainly. What would you like to hear?”

“Oh how about And Can It Be?”

He shuffled around on the stool. “Very well. I often practice a bit after the morning service, when the others have left. I’m not one for idle chatter in the church hall.”

“Me neither,” Jenna said, walking up to beside him, so close that her cleavage was at his eye level. Gordon couldn’t help but give a side glance, and then quickly looked ahead.

“Right, are you ready?”

The strains of the great Wesleyan hymn filled the church as Gordon’s fingers graced the mighty organ. Jenna hummed along, and then an idea came into her head. Suddenly, Gordon stopped playing.

“I don’t hear any singing, Jenna. How about you sing whilst I play?”

“Ok!” She grinned, and he resumed playing.

“And can it be, that I should gain - An int'rest in the Savior’s blood?”

Jenna deftly unfastened the first button on her white top.

“Died He for me, who caused His pain,For me, who Him to death pursued?”

Gordon happened to glance to his right again, and almost played a wrong note. Jenna continued singing.

“Amazing love! How can it be, That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?”

She unfastened another button. Gordon continued playing, and as the chorus approached, the third and final button of her top was swiftly unfastened.

“Amazing love! How can it be, That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?”

Gordon’s eyes almost popped out of his head and he cleared his throat.

“Go on, play a second verse!” Jenna said.

He continued to play, but could feel his face burning. Jenna was singing her heart out, and seemed to be blissfully unaware that she’d suffered a wardrobe malfunction, she wasn’t wearing a bra! Bloody hell, what a beautiful pair of tits, Gordon was uncomfortably hot all at once. He was no stranger to internet porn - after his divorce, porn was the only thing he could turn to in order to get a bit of relief, not that it really relieved him all that much, in fact it didn’t turn him on at all anymore, he’d become impotent. Suddenly, with the young and beautiful Jenna inches away from him and, somewhat exposed, his dormant cock had surged back into life and was now straining against his underpants and trousers,

“Just one more verse, Gordon! I’ll give it my all.”

He continued playing and she resumed singing, her pale, pert breasts jiggling, inches from his face.

“Oh dear God,” Gordon thought to himself. What a situation to find oneself in. “Should I say something to her?”

“My chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose, went forth, and followed Thee!”

Jenna pretended to lose her balance. “Whoops!” She said, toppling over and putting her hand on Gordon’s thigh. He jolted and played a note that was so off-key, Les Dawson would’ve been impressed.

“Oh Gordon that wa

The Audition: Her Sister’s Beds

Mon, 20 Nov 2023 07:30:46 -0600

He’s told he must audition, sexually for fiancée's family.

by deadeye_76, Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The Strange Will of Mr. Thurman.

On Wednesday night, the day before Thanksgiving or 2010, I’d just met my fiancée’s mother & sisters. The ‘audition’ cover story fell apart when my bride to be, Gwen; insisted that her family level with me. The true reason for each of them planning to have sex with me was because of Mr. Thurman’s will; and not because they were concerned for Gwen’s future love life.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Thurman. I can see you are in a tough spot. I can commiserate with you about this, but there are still dangers besides the personal issues. Can I tell you an old joke?”

She looked puzzled. “Sure.”

“It’s one I heard a long time ago.” I sat forward. “A man was at a bar where he met a very desirable young lady. After a few drinks he leaned over and asked her, ‘Will you have sex with me for a million dollars?’ She looked at him and thought about it, but eventually said yes. He smiled and asked her, ‘Will you have sex with me for a hundred dollars?’ She looked aghast and said, ‘What do you think I am a whore?’ He smiled and said, ‘We’ve already established that, now we’re just bickering over price.’” I sat back and watched Mrs. Thurman.

“So are you saying that this makes us whores?” She was not happy.

“No, I’m saying this may be your deceased husband’s way of proving the point that he believes that you, Sheila, and Gaby are; and that this is a dangerous thing we are doing. The final amendment is still unknown to you, right?”

She looked at me carefully. “Right. We can’t see it until it’s time to declare that we have accomplished the first part of the will’s demands; or decide to protest it.”

“This is a very dangerous thing.” I was worried about what the real goal of such a vicious man would be. Is this really what he wants? He wants them to be whores to prove that they are? Is that really a test?

She came right back at me. “But what choice do we have? If we do not do this before you two are married, we don’t even get a chance at the rest of his estate. I should have some of that, don’t you think?”

“I agree that you should get some of the estate, Mrs. Thurman. I’m sure that I would want it if I was a family member. However, I’m just not sure that I can do this. Gwen?”

Gwen looked up at everyone. She had been particularly quiet sitting there. “John, I love you. I want you to be faithful to me. However, I don’t know how I can say no to my family on this.”

I watched her carefully. She fidgeted and wrung her hands. She was very uncomfortable… as was I. “So if we do this, what’s the plan?”

Mrs. Thurman looked around. “Sheila, Gaby, and I already drew straws long ago to determine the order. I am supposed to go first, then Sheila, and then Gaby. You will sleep with each of us one night for the next three.”

I looked over at Sheila and Gaby. They were also fidgeting and unable to meet my eyes. “Are you two willing to do this, considering you are married?”

Sheila looked up and around. She opened her mouth and hesitated. Finally, she said, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Gaby stared at me until she realized I was waiting for her to answer individually. She was staring at me as she answered. “No choice.”

I went over and kneeled in front of Gwen. “Gwen, you must be absolutely sure that you can handle this. Saying now that you want me to do it and having to remember this for the rest of your life are two different things. Are you going to be able to face the fact that I had sex with the rest of your family?”

“I don’t know. I just think that I have no choice.”

I stood up. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Later that night I visited the bedroom of my fiancé’s mother.

Thanksgiving Day, 2010.

I stared at the ceiling. Shit! I had lied to Gwen about fucking her mother. She knew I went in there to fulfill the requirements of the will, but if it ever came out she would go ballistic. I couldn’t take it back now and she would feel like I was hiding something if she found out after believing that nothing happened. I really was in a fix now. I would just have to deal with it and live with it the rest of my life, because I didn’t want to let this beauty go. But I also had two more women to go, her sisters. This was going to be an interesting but stressful weekend.

The next day was Thanksgiving. We all tried to act like it was another normal Thanksgiving gathering and dinner. The food was good, but there was an underlying current of tension in everyone. We were all jumpy because of the arrangements. We managed to get thru the day, and it was an overall joyous occasion, but as we got closer to nightfall, things got quiet. Finally, we all peeled off and went to bed. Gwen and I went to our room and discussed nothing in particular as we put on our pajamas and got ready for bed. She was trying not to discuss that I was going to go to her older sister’s room. Sheila was next up in the queue. Finally, at about 10pm, Gwen turned suddenly and pulled me into a bear hug. She whispered that she loved me and then pulled back. She looked up at me and tried to smile.

“I guess it’s time.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

Gwen put her head on my chest. “Please tell me again that this will not change what we have.”

I lifted her head by her chin and looked directly at her. “This will never change us. I love you and you love me and we will always be together. This will be over after this weekend.”

She put her head back down. “Okay, you’d better go.”

I started to pull away, but Gwen held on a little longer, then finally relaxed her grip and backed away. She looked up at me. “See you in a little while.”

“Okay.” I kissed her and smiled and left the room in my pajamas.

I headed for Sheila’s room. I knocked lightly and she called out for me to enter. I opened the door and she was already in bed. She smiled and waved me over. I went toward the bed.

She grinned. “Take off your pajamas and get in here.” I complied and she watched closely. “Um. Nice cock.” I looked up at her quickly and she grinned again. “Well, if we are going to do this, I might as well enjoy it. My husband has been neglecting his duties, so I’m ready.”

I was quickly tucked under the covers with her. “We don’t have to do this, you know. We could just say we did.”

“Not a chance.” I felt her reach for my cock and her covers fell away, revealing nice large tits. My cock hardened. “I can’t wait to have sex with a new cock. This has given me the approval I needed.” I was now fully hard based on her rubbing my dick with her warm hands and displaying those voluptuous tits. “And a nice sized one at that.” She threw the covers back and looked at my cock, standing at attention while she held it. “Um. Did I mention that I love sucking cock?” She bent over and slowly licked around the head. I lay back and moaned. She smiled up at me and rearranged herself on the bed so that she was kneeling next to me. I could see that she had a fantastic body. How could her husband neglect that night after night? Maybe she was lying or there was more going on there than she knew.

Sheila continued to lick and suck on my cock, and she was definitely into it. She gave it a final slurp and started to climb up over me. I looked up at her. “Are you ready? Do you need any lube?”

She grinned and rubbed my cock along her slit. “Honey, I’ve been thinking about this all day and I warmed up a little while waiting for you. Yeah, baby, I’m wet and ready.” With that she slowly started lowering herself onto my cock. Fuck, she was tight. “Fuck yes, a good hard cock. That’s what I really needed.”

I reached up and grabbed her nice c-cup tits. “Nice tits.”

She grinned. “Thank you.” Then she got serious. “Now let’s fuck!”

Sheila started bouncing up and down on my dick like a mad woman. She thrust herself up and down, up and down, groaning and mumbling how good it was at every step. She was very good at grinding her clit against me and I knew she was going to cum soon. Unfortunately, so was I. “Sheila, I’m going to cum soon.”

“Hmm… okay… oh, fuck!”

“Sheila, do you want me to try to get to your ass now?”

“Not a chance!” She leaned over and stared directly into my eyes while she rotated her hips, stimulating her clit against my pubic bone and hair. “I’m going to fuck you until we both cum and then I’m going to suck you hard again and then you can fuck my tight ass.”

That was the final straw for me. I started thrusting and thrusting, feeling the orgasm approaching. She started moaning and I could tell she was close, too. Suddenly, she erupted into an orgasm and held still for a second, then jerked, then held still, then jerked, and did this until she completed her orgasm. I was still thrusting and finally I came, too. I held her down against my hips as I buried my dick into her hot pussy as deep as I could get it to start spurting. I spurted and spurted, filling this sexy mother of two with my cum.

She finally collapsed onto my chest. “Um. That was nice. I think I’m going to like having sex with you.”

I pushed her up. “This is it, Sheila. Tonight is the last time we will have sex. Period.”

“Okay, okay, no need to get upset. I’m just going to leave an open invitation out there for you, that’s all.”

“Sorry, not going to happen. I love your sister and I’m going to marry her. She’s the one for me. Once we finish here tonight, we’re done.”

She stared at me for a second. “Hmmm. I guess that means that baby Gwen is pretty good in the sack, too, eh?”

“No comment.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “No matter. I’ve got you for a little longer tonight, and I’m not letting you go until we are done.”

I groaned and she grinned. She clambered off me and lay next to me. She snuggled up against me and waited a few minutes for us both to catch her breath. Finally she rose up on one elbow, her body still molded to mine. “Well, John. Are you ready for the next round?” She reached out and cupped my balls and soft dick. “Not yet? Well, let’s see what we can do about that.” She then leaned over and started cleaning and sucking my dick. Fuck! This woman was definitely into sex! I decided to tell her that.

“Oh, shit, Sheila, you can really suck cock!”

She lifted her face from my crotch and grinned evilly. “Damn right!” Then she buried her face back into my balls and licked them from the bottom up. She finished by going all the way up my dick and then burying it into her mouth. Fuck! I groaned and she pulled off.

“Um. I see that somebody’s dick wants some of Sheila’s ass. You ready stud?”

I stared at her for a second. “Uh, yeah.” I was barely recovered from the first fuck and she had my dick hard and quivering again.

Sheila sat up and patted me on the hip. “Get up and do this right. Get behind me and fuck my ass hard.”

I was amazed at how different this woman was in and out of the bedroom. She was fucking amazing at this. I crawled up onto my knees and she turned and got on all fours with her face buried into a pillow. She turned her head to me for a second.

“Fuck my pussy for a few moments to get nice and wet and then shove it in my ass. I love ass-fucking, so you shouldn’t have any problems.”

I crawled around behind her and stared at the voluptuous ass in front of me. Her little brown star was winking at me as she appeared to be flexing it. I moved up behind her and aimed my dick at her pussy. I eased it in. Our combined lubrication in her pussy meant that my dick was soaking wet instantly. I slowly fucked her a few times to get it ready and then pulled it out.

“Yeah, baby, fuck that sexy ass.”

I moved forward and pushed my dick against her asshole. “You mean this ass?”

“Fuck yeah! Do it! Fuck me!”

I pushed quickly and her ass opened up and my dick went all the way to the hilt in one solid thrust.

“Oh, yeah, fuck me baby!” Sheila kept after me to fuck her, so I did.

I pulled back and started thrusting. I would pull back kind of slow and watch as her ass clamped onto my dick and then I would quickly bury it. Each time my hips slapped up against hers and she moaned. I could feel her rubbing her pussy with one of her hands and I just started fucking her hard at that point. There was no attempt at her satisfaction now. I just pounded her and looked for my next cum. I wanted to fill her nasty ass with as much cum as I could. I fucked and fucked and she started rolling her hips a little as she played with her pussy and that pushed me to the edge. I was fucking her hard and enjoying it immensely. I was on that edge, wanting it to last forever, but also badly wanting to cum. Suddenly she shuddered in orgasm and the rhythmic squeezing of her ass put me over the top.

“Oh fuck! Here it cums!” I buried myself in Sheila’s tight ass and pumped a load deep into her. I pumped and pumped and was exhausted when I finished. I collapsed on top of her and pushed her flat on the bed.

“Nice job, John. I think you’re going to keep Gwen well satisfied.”

I lay there on top of her feeling her flex her ass and the nice contour of her bubble butt. “I plan on it.”

“Um. Just stay there for a minute until your dick shrinks and naturally pops out of my ass.”

I lay there, feeling her under me. I started relaxing and finally my dick popped out of her ass. She giggled. “Oh, yeah. Nothing like a good pussy and ass fucking to take the edge off.”

I rolled off to the side and stared at her. “Is your husband really neglecting you?”

She grinned. “Yeah. I think he has a little something on the side at work, so I have a friend who comes over and makes sure I don’t get too horny.” I must have been staring at her after that. “What? Don’t get all high and mighty until you’ve been in that position. I’m a woman reaching my sexual peak and all he can do is drool over the bimbos at work.”

“Okay.” What could I say to that. “I think I’ll get cleaned up and go.”

“Okay, lover. I’ll be sure to tell Gwen how good you were and took good care of her sister.” She gave me an evil grin and wink.

“No, thanks.” I threw my pajamas back on and went to Gwen’s room.

Gwen was not even pretending to be asleep this time. She was sitting up and reading her book – at least that’s what she was trying to do. She looked up as soon as I entered.

“Well?” She looked at me apprehensively.

“Your older sister is a little freaky.” I decided I had to tell her the truth about this one.

Her face showed her disappointment even though she knew why I went in there. “I figured. She was always the one telling us about her sexual exploits in college.”

“She also admitted to me that she thinks her husband has a mistress so she has a lover, too.”

Gwen stared at me. “She actually said that?”

“Yeah.”

Gwen got quiet for a minute. “So you fucked her?”

I stared at Gwen, trying to portray the regret that I felt. “Yeah.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Are you sure you want to talk about this?”

She looked down and then back up, staring at me. “Yes, I want to know.”

“I didn’t really enjoy it, but I did cum. She was very good.”

“She was?”

“She was even a little – I don’t know, maybe a little slutty?”

Gwen stared for a moment. “Do you think there’s any truth to my father’s accusations?”

“No. Absolutely not. I know that they are strong, independent women. I also know that they were not wallflowers in college, but there’s a big difference between having a healthy sex life and being a slut!” I said that emphatically, trying to ensure that she understood my position.

“I agree.”

Gwen lay down and turned away from me, saying nothing more. I thought she might be mad. I crawled into bed with her and lay there, thinking about what I should do, or what I could do. I could come up with nothing. I was completely ill equipped to handle this type of situation. I decided it was best to just lay there and not try to bother her.

I lay there and listened to her breathing. She didn’t’ seem to be relaxing. Finally, she turned toward me and put her arm over my chest and her leg over mine. “I’m sorry. I know we asked you to do this. It’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry that I had to do it.”

She rose up and kissed me on the lips. “I love you. I always will.”

“I love you, too. Always.”

I was much more capable of relaxing now and thought about tomorrow. I was hoping tomorrow would be easier. Finally, I went to sleep.

I woke up and knew that it was morning by the light streaming in the window. There was no sign of Gwen. I sat up and looked around. The door was open and I could hear talking downstairs. I walked down there and Gwen and her mother were cooking breakfast. Gwen came immediately over to me and put her arms around me. She gave me a big kiss.

“Good morning, my favorite man.”

I answered her. “Good morning, my most favorite woman.”

She grinned. “C'mon. Let’s eat before my sisters get up.”

I agreed and we sat down for breakfast. It was the most relaxing meal I’d had since I arrived. I was holding out hope that the rest of the day would be easy, but I knew deep down that it wouldn’t be.

Friday after Thanksgiving, 2010.

I had just finished breakfast on Black Friday with my fiancé and her mother. I thought about what lie ahead. I had already fucked my fiancé’s mother and sister in order to fulfill the requirements of this weird will that her father had left when he died. Gwen didn’t know I had fucked her mother. I had lied and said we couldn’t do it. I had told her the truth about her slutty sister Sheila. Now, I had one more sister to go; Gaby.

The middle of the day went quickly for me. I took my time getting ready and the four women all went to do some shopping. They were avoiding the large malls, but were going to hit some small stores. I watched some football and caught up on some reading.

About 5pm, they strolled back in, carrying a few bags each from their trip. They were all laughing and having a good time. When Gaby looked over at me I saw her blanch. She was definitely feeling stressed out about our meeting later that night. Gwen came over and gave me a big, wet kiss and they all flounced upstairs to put their purchases away.

Dinner was leftovers and we all gathered around in the kitchen to dip into the containers and fill our plates. I got a little of everything and was second in line for the microwave, so I was sitting with Gwen as the other three were finishing and warming their food.

She leaned over to me and I smiled. She smiled back and then leaned closer to my ear. “I love you more than I can express.”

I turned my head after she said that to see tears welling in her eyes. I pulled her in and gave her a hug and told her I loved her. About that time her mother came out of the kitchen.

“Hey, you two, get a room!” She said it jokingly, but it seemed that Gwen was not to be cheered up. She didn’t laugh or respond, she just went back to eating.

The scenario this evening was the same as the others. We watched a little television and then everyone went to bed early.

At 10pm, I was ready to leave my room and head toward the room of yet again another Thurman woman. Gaby was the middle child and had been married for about 3 years. She had a one-year old that her husband had taken to his family’s house for the holidays. She was supposed to join them tomorrow for a couple of days.

I said my good-bye to Gwen and headed to Gaby’s room. When I entered, it was very dark. I waited for a couple of seconds to get my night eyes and then moved toward the bed. I could hear her breathing and her nervousness was so evident as to be discernible from 10 feet away.

“Gaby?”

“Y, Yes?” She haltingly answered,

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.

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

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