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Dreamer – Ch. 3

Heather took me to a Chinese restaurant. I had chicken with cashew nuts. We each had three sakes. When it got time to leave, I reached into my bra to get some money out.

“No sweetie. This one’s on me. You can return the favor once you’ve built a little bank roll. And from the comments I heard, that’s not going to take long. One of the regulars said you were the best cock sucker he ever met. And all the guys who fucked you said they’d be back for more.”

For some strange reason, this made me feel proud. I was becoming a good whore. And I was getting a reputation.

We went down the block to a second-hand store. I was able to get a dress, two skirts a couple of blouses and two pairs of shoes for a total of $96. I started looking at the underwear when Heather stopped me.

“Nookie, never buy used underwear. There’s a cheap lingerie shoppe around the corner we can stop at.”

And so we did. Three pairs of lacy panties and a couple of bras set me back another $42. I still had $106 left.

When we left the store, Heather said she was going home and would see me tomorrow.

She knew something was wrong by the look on my face.

“What’s the matter sweetie?”

I shuffled my feet a little and looked at the ground. “I have nowhere to go.”

Without a word, she took me by the hand, and we walked another two blocks. We went into a building and walked up three flights of stairs. She unlocked a door, and we entered a small efficiency apartment. It was tiny but it was impeccably clean.

“You can stay here if you want. The only thing is there’s only one bed.” She raised an eyebrow when she said that.

“That would be okay. I don’t take up much room.”

She stripped off her clothing and put on a blue chemise. bitlis escort She rummaged in her closet and came out with a pink baby doll nightie. “This may be a little big but it’s the best I have for you.”

I put on the nightie and climbed into bed next to her. She leaned up on one elbow and turned towards me. She brushed my hair out of my face and said, “Nookie, have you ever been with another woman?” While she said that, her hand went between my legs.

I decided to play this one honestly. “No, no I haven’t.” And my hand went between her legs.

“Sweetie, I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. You’re so pretty. And so real.”

“Heather, I’ve never done this before. And I’m not sure I would want to with anyone but you. I, um, may be in love with you.” I hoped I didn’t just make a mistake.

“Nookie, I’m so glad to hear you say that. I feel the same way.”

We spent most of that night exploring each other’s body. Every inch was exposed to lustful hands, lips, and tongues. I loved it most when she sucked on my tits. And although I think it shocked her at first, she seemed to really like it when I put my tongue up her ass. I did that several times during the night, and she ended up orgasming each time. And she used her tongue to bring me to orgasm five times during the night.

In three days, I had given my first (and multiple) blow job, been fucked for the first (and multiple) time and been fucked in the ass. And now I had my first lesbian experience, which was the best of all. The encounters with the guys were ‘having sex’. All they wanted was to blow their load in one of my orifices. Whether or not I enjoyed it didn’t matter to them. But with Heather, it was ‘making love’. It was so tender, and we both were so attentive to each other’s bolu escort needs and pleasure. I decided two things that night: 1. I was a lesbian; and 2, I really did love Heather.

We were a few minutes late the next morning. Neither of us wanted to get out of bed. Besides wanting to make love again, I don’t think either of us slept more than a half hour the previous night. Alejandro looked at his watch and gave us a dirty look when we finally got on the floor.

It was a typical morning. Five or six blowjobs and a few fucks. I was chugging Red Bulls to stay awake. As a result, I was extra energetic for the fucks. The customers appreciated it. I made $400 in tips and had five orgasms.

I crashed hard early in the afternoon. One of the regulars was doing me doggy style when I felt myself falling asleep. Lucky for me he was kind of rough and I woke up after a very forceful thrust from him.

About an hour before the end of my shift, I was summoned to Alejandro’s office. Dianna was sitting on the desk naked with her legs spread wide.

Alejandro motioned for me to sit on the sofa. “I’ve got an out call for the two of you tomorrow. Together. The clients are a man and a woman and you two are going to be horny schoolgirls They specifically asked for the two youngest looking girls I have.”

Dianna looked almost as young as I did. Her smallish breasts and thin figure made her look like she was in high school.

“No makeup except some heavy pink lipstick. A short plaid skirt and a white blouse. White knee socks and some saddle shoes. But what you wear underneath the skirt and blouse should be really slutty.”

“Dianna, Julio knows where you live. He’ll pick you up at 11:30 after he gets Nookie. Where do you live Nookie.”

“I’m staying burdur escort with Heather until I get a place of my own.”

He gave me a look and said, “That explains the lateness this morning. Don’t make a habit out of it. I don’t care what you do on your own time but I expect you to be on the floor when scheduled. Understand?’

“Yes sir.”

“Okay, Julio will pick you up at eleven…Dianna, you can go. I have something else to discuss with Nookie.”

Dianna gave me a look on her way out. I bet she figured I was going to be sucking cock or be bent over the desk after she left.

When the door closed, Alejandro looked at me. “How do you like it here Nookie? Is anything bothering you?”

I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but I decided to be honest.

“Well, um, Officer Bryan says he’s going to fuck me in the ass every time he comes in. Do I really have to do that?”

He gave me that dirty look again. “Nookie, let me explain something to you. It’s imperative that we keep the cop happy. So you need to do anything he wants. And that includes getting fucked in the ass. If you didn’t want to get fucked in the ass, you shouldn’t have such a juicy one. Got it?’

“Um, okay.”

He knew I wasn’t happy. “I’ll tell you what. If he fucks you in the ass, I’ll give you $25 instead of the usual $5. Just don’t tell any of the other girls.”

I would get $100 for doing this with a regular customer. But I decided not to push it. I just smiled and nodded.

“Nookie, I noticed you were falling asleep when one of the customers was plowing you from behind. Good thing he didn’t notice. If it happens again, you’ll be giving blowjobs on your knees in a dirty men’s room at the truck stop. Understood?”

“Yes Sir. It won’t happen again.”

“That’s good. You have a lot of talent Sweetie. You can make a lot of money in this business. Don’t fuck it up.”

“I won’t.”

He looked at his watch. “Okay your shift is almost over. Come over here and get on your knees. You have just enough time for you to suck my cock.”

So of course, I did.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I was married for a month by now, and your husband has to be away due to work commitments. I lived with my sister-in-law and mother-in-law. It was no sister-in-law who performed all my pre-wedding rituals on me, some of which were really intimate.

The morning was still fresh and the fragrance of lavender incense sticks from the puja room could be sensed. The kitchen is buzzing with my sister-in-law, cooking, my mother-in-law, chit-chatting. It is a typical Saturday morning.

I was just out of my bedroom, fresh from sleep. I looked around for my husband, but soon realized he wasn’t at home. He had a work-related trip planned for quite some time.

I walked down the stairs in my nightdress, my sister-in-law came out the kitchen door. She smiled at me. She had this beautiful, charming smile. Her eyes were so captivating, they drew me towards her. She too was still in her nightie and I could see her curves clearly underneath with sunlight behind her.

“You slept well?” she asked.

“Yea”, I replied, “What are you up to?”

“I’m about to take an oil bath, as it’s a Saturday. Want to join?” She asked.

“Oil bath?” I asked.

“It’s a very traditional method, we have to keep ourselves oiled for half-an-hour and then bathe. It’s very good for your skin, and also soothes your mind and relaxes your body”.

“I will”, I said.

She led me towards the backyard of the house. In the backyard was a big mat. There was a jug filled with coconut oil and a towel.

The sunlight filtered through the swaying leaves of the nearby neem tree, casting dappled patterns on her soft, olive skin. Her eyes were closed, and her lips curved in a serene smile as she massaged herself. It was a surreal moment, and I couldn’t help but be entranced by her grace. As I applied the oil to my legs, I hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit self-conscious. We were both in our nighties. However, my sister-in-law’s relaxed demeanor and the trust that had developed between us over the years made me feel more at ease.

I glanced at her, and she met my gaze with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry,” she said softly, “we’re family, and there’s nothing to be shy about. This tradition is about bonding and rejuvenation. Let me help you with your back.”

I mustered the courage and peeled off my nightie, leaving me in just my undergarments. bayburt escort My sister-in-law and I exchanged a reassuring look before she dipped her fingers in the aromatic oil and began to gently massage my back. Her touch was tender and expert, and the sensation was both relaxing and intimate.

I closed my eyes and let the warmth of the oil and the gentle, rhythmic movements of her hands wash over me. It was as if all the stress and worries that had been weighing on my mind were slowly melting away. I felt a profound connection with this age-old tradition, and with my sister-in-law who was sharing this experience with me.

As she continued to massage my back, I couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty of the moment. The scent of the oil, the rustling leaves, and the distant sounds of daily life in our Indian household created a unique atmosphere. It was a moment of pure relaxation and bonding, a deepening of the connection between sisters-in-law who, in that tranquil space, were simply two women seeking solace and rejuvenation. After a while, she paused and said, “Now it’s your turn to help me with my back.” I took a deep breath and nodded, feeling more at ease with the idea. I dipped my fingers into the oil and began to replicate her gentle movements, massaging her back in return as she stood in her undergarments. It was a beautiful exchange of care and intimacy, strengthening the familial bonds that tie us together.

As we continued this timeless ritual, I couldn’t help but be grateful for this moment of connection and the sense of belonging within the warm embrace of our Indian traditions. It was a reminder that sometimes, the most intimate moments can be shared with family, and they can be deeply enriching and healing.

Then I sat cross-legged on the floor as I was asked. My sister-in-law knelt behind me, her hands still coated with the aromatic oil. With a delicate touch, she unhooked my bra and gently eased it off my shoulders. The sensation was both unfamiliar and surprisingly freeing, and I couldn’t help but feel a mix of vulnerability and acceptance in that moment.

As her hands continued to glide over my back, I could sense her care and attention to detail. She made sure to cover every inch of my skin with the fragrant oil, her touch unhurried and deliberate. I relaxed into bilecik escort the experience, letting go of any lingering self-consciousness, and allowed myself to appreciate the unique bond we were forging through this ancient ritual.

Her hands were warm and comforting, and the fragrance of the oil filled the air, enveloping us in a cocoon of tranquility. The traditional oil bath had evolved into a deeply personal and intimate experience, symbolizing trust and the unspoken connection between sisters-in-law.

As I stood up, my sister-in-law remained kneeling behind me, her hands still coated with the fragrant oil. I could feel a mix of anticipation and vulnerability, knowing that the last part of my body was about to be uncovered and attended to.

With a gentle touch, she began to slide my panties down, revealing the final part of my body that had been hidden. It was a moment that required both trust and a certain level of comfort with each other. She continued to apply the warm oil to this newly uncovered area, her touch maintaining the same level of care and delicacy as before. Her hands moved with grace and purpose, ensuring that every part of my body was properly nourished and rejuvenated. I closed my eyes and let go of any lingering inhibitions, fully embracing the experience. The oil felt warm and soothing, and her touch was like a feather, sending tingling sensations through my body. I could sense her fingers entering me from my behind gently as I let out a gentle moan.

The sensual feeling of the warm oil and her soft, skilled fingers moving inside of me was almost too much to handle. She slowly added a second finger, and the sensation was overwhelming. I felt a sense of euphoria wash over me as she skillfully moved her fingers in and out, sending waves of pleasure through my body. I moaned loudly as she increased the pace and intensity, taking me to new heights of ecstasy. I felt so alive, so connected to her. Her touch was electric, and her movements were precise and calculated.

The mixture of pleasure and intimacy was intoxicating, and I found myself losing control, moaning uncontrollably as she continued her ministrations. I could feel my climax building, and I knew it would not be long before I reached the point of no return. As the intensity of the pleasure increased, bingöl escort I could feel myself slipping into a state of pure bliss. I was powerless against the overwhelming sensations, and all I could do was surrender to the exquisite sensation of her fingers bringing me closer and closer to the edge. As the final wave of pleasure crashed over me, I was left panting and spent, but also filled with a sense of peace and satisfaction. I felt completely at ease with my sister-in-law and our mutual desire to share such a deeply personal and intimate experience.

You say “Now return me the favor.” She looked into my eyes. She sat on the floor in her bra and panties and I knelt behind her still naked.”

As I massaged her, the smell of her perfume drifted in the air. She smelled so good. It was a combination of a fresh scent with a floral tone. It was subtle yet alluring. I unhooked her bra and gently slid it off her shoulders and I ran my hands along the smooth, olive skin of her back. I could feel the tension in her muscles as I rubbed the oil into her skin, watching as it glistened in the light. I ran my hands along her arms, feeling her goose bumps. I traced her collarbone with my fingertips, enjoying the way her skin felt and then I gently cupped her breasts in my hands, feeling their weight.

She leaned into me, pressing her back against my chest as I ran my thumbs over her nipples, feeling them harden. I kissed the nape of her neck, enjoying the softness of her skin.

She lifted herself momentarily, pulled her panties down in one go, and sat again on the floor completely naked. Her breath hitched as I ran my hands over her bare skin. She shivered as I trailed my fingertips across her stomach. I traced the contours of her hips, exploring every inch of her and I cupped her mound, feeling the warmth and wetness. She moaned as I teased her opening, circling my fingers around her clit. She gasped as I entered her, feeling her slick walls enveloping my fingers. She arched her back as I found her g-spot, stroking it with my fingertips and she cried out as she came, her body shaking with pleasure.

I held her close as she came down from her high, stroking her hair. We lay together in the aftermath, savoring the moment for another 30 minutes before starting to wash ourselves, to wash away the oil from our bodies. The warm water ran down our skin, erasing the last remnants of the oil.

The experience left us both feeling relaxed and refreshed. As we stood there in the shower, washing away the last traces of the oil, I couldn’t help but feel closer to my sister-in-law, the woman I had bonded with so intimately.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I’ve got off the phone to my friend Karen. We’re bored and going round to Hannah’s. We don’t usually hang out with her, she’s boring and square. But it’s something to do.

I fake smile when we get there, acting politely to her parents, Karen and I head to her room.

Hannah’s cousin is there, Hailey, she’s blonde, blue eyed and pretty. Her character is charming and confident, and her smile melts my heart. I get to know her, ignoring my friends to talk to her, unsure what has come over me.

At the end of the evening, I’m reluctantly pulled away by Karen to get the train home.

***

“Let’s go to Hannah’s?”

It’s the next day, we’re bored again.

“No, there’s nothing to do.”

“I know, everyone else has gone away, we may as well.” I beg. I don’t know what’s got into me. I feel a need to see Hailey.

Karen succumbs to my argument, and we are back at Hannah’s.

Hailey sits on the edge of the bed. Golden strands of hair hang over her naked shoulders. balıkesir escort Her breasts compressed behind a white boob tube, her little nipples pressing hard. Her tummy is flat with small rolls of skin squeezed as she sits forward. I look at her long legs, crossed, pink flip-flops hang from her raised right foot.

Her smile is wide, and I hang on her every word as she talks about life in Norwich, it sounds depressing, not like London. She’s here for a week, and she’s going home soon.

Prying, I’m interested when she’s back here, how does she like it? She whispers and puts a hand on my bare knee, “Its improved.” She laughs so no-one else hears.

A swarming bag of nerves swoosh in my tummy. Is she flirting with me, I don’t know what to do. I don’t think I’m interested in her, not in that way, am I? I feel enraptured, connected. Its different to how I feel about my friends, Karen and Kim. But, I don’t know how.

***

Being bartın escort dragged away to go home again, I sit in my room, alone.

I try to work out my feelings. Its not the first time I’ve found myself thinking about girls, or a female in particular.

The waves of emotion I feel as I think of them. I can’t counter, or explain.

***

“What’s into you? You’re either looking into the distance, not talking, being fucking boring. Or, it’s Hailey this, or Hailey that.” Karen is having a whinge up at me as we sit on a bench on Wandsworth Road. We’re off to see what’s happening in Elephant and Castle. She’d refused to see Hannah, now we’re here waiting for a bus.

Inside I’m in bits, concerned I’ll never see Hailey again. It kills me she could be back in Norwich, I don’t know how I’ll cope. I wanted to cry when Karen said no to going around there. I want to ask her to call Hannah, from the phone box. Neither of us can remember her number.

***

Lying batman escort on my bed, thinking of Hailey, I wonder what she’s doing. I’m jealous of Hannah for having such a beautiful cousin. I’m envious of the time they get to spend together. If I had a cousin like her, I’m certain I’d be spending whatever time I had to be near her in Norwich.

My heart races and I panic as I find my hand pressing at myself between my legs. I open my crotch a little and slip my hand into my pants.

I’m so confused a tear wells in my eye as I try to comprehend what I’m feeling. I have sex with boys, but I don’t fancy them. I go for boys my friends like, or who I think I should go with. I love sex, the thought of it, but I hate the deed and the regret and shame.

I’m outrageous, and push the boundaries during sex, trying to get myself to enjoy it more. My reputation isn’t good, my friends know me as a slut, and the boys we know, know me.

Hailey, though she’s different, I like talking to her finding out about her. I’d like to go out and have fun with her, she’s not the first girl I’ve felt like this with.

My girlfriends are different, we do go out, we have fun and talk, but its not special, its friendly.

I pull my hand out, I’m not doing it.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

All characters and persons involved in sexual activities in this story are over the age of 18.

*****

2: Village of the Okaba Tribe. Modern day Papua New Guinea: 7,000 BC

Bilal and Hana

The ground was soft and damp, the recent heavy rains had saturated the hard red clay with moisture so that the paths through the forest had become thick red rivers of muddy sludge. Bilal tried to keep her footing as she trudged doggedly back from the fields with her basket filled with the large tuberous roots of the taro plant. Even if the rains had made her walk to and from the hut a sludgy nightmare, they had done wonders for the struggling roots which were the staple of her and her family’s diet. Bilal had always loved the rain and was sad to see the end of the storm season and the start of the sunny season.

The steady produce of grown crops and jungle harvest had given Bilal a short stocky robust figure, with wide hips and full bosoms. Her diminutive height was the result of a childhood on the edge of starvation, like a lot of folk she knew, but her figure had been filled out massively since with ample harvests and a variety of foods. Her long black glossy hair was tied back behind her head by a single cord of leather, which kept it from straying into her large black eyes and rounded, slightly chubby face. Her arms were strong and toned from where she had spent hours at a time grinding food down and her palms were similarly scored and calloused with years of chores. Such was the life of the farmer.

It had been a good haul so far this year, the pounding summer sun and occasional jungle storm which had ripped through the region had mostly left her small village alone, sheltered as they were by the protective cliff face to the west. They had heard news carried on the words of the travelling shamans, of the destructive power of the winds and rains which had ravished other settlements along the shore of the great lake. Occasionally they would see small families in their hollow log boats, rowing past forlornly, gazing in jealous envy at the village’s crops and buildings.

Thankfully the village was well protected by water to the south and east, and by the cliffs to the west. And to the north the men of the village had constructed a large wooden palisade to keep out unwanted people and the wild animals which still hunted in the forests. Only last year one of Bilal’s young cousins had wandered off into the forest convinced that he was going to hunt and kill a crocodile. Unfortunately the truth had turned out to be quite the opposite, or at least this was what everyone had assumed had happened.

Most people kept to the safety of the village and the fields. There was ample food grown and plentiful fish in the lake. Every now and then a hunting party of men and women would gather and creep into the jungles to hunt larger prey, but there was safety in numbers and a lone hunter was a good recipe for a dead hunter. Bilal herself had only been out with these hunting gangs a couple of times, being still relatively young at only 19 summers in age. She had found the endless trek through the sweltering daytime forest to be monotonous and stifling. But that was nothing compared to the terror-filled darkness of the night with it’s strange calls, cries and scuttling of unseen things in the dark.

Although the work was hard and repetitive, Bilal found it far preferable to work in the fields with her father and mother. Starting after the storm season, they would clear back an area of the young jungle growths, dig up the soil and plant the seeds which they hoped would grow into the thick bitter tubers which had become such an important part of their food. Once these roots were fat and white, it would then be up to the family to haul them from the ground and then pound and ground them down into a fine mushy paste. This would then be heated on a wide flat stone over the fire into a kind of bread which could then be eaten. Bilal had tried to eat the raw ripe tubers before they were cooked and had found the taste utterly foul, and the flavour had lived in her mouth for at least half a day afterwards. Only after cooking did the taro plant seem suitable for eating.

Over the past few years Bilal had found that she had quite a talent for cooking the thick pale paste of the taro root into something that even pleased the tongue. She had found that by adding a few of the peculiar white crystals that she often found dried by the shore of the great lake, she could vastly improve its flavour. And she had also taken advice from a travelling seed seller and traded one of her best pestle and mortar sets with them for a collection of ‘herb’ seeds. These seeds when grown had proved to be small but very flavourful, especially when dried and crushed into the paste as well before it was cooked.

All of this extra preparation had made Bilal’s reputation as a fine cook quite well known in the village and people had been willing to trade other fruits and meats of the forest and ardahan escort even the occasional trinket or tool for access to her herb stocks.

Finally Bilal rounded the edge of the large rooted tree which marked the end of the path and entered the village. A collection of ten grass-roofed huts with dried mud walls stood in a semi-circle facing inwards around a wide open space, the dried mud of the clearing now similarly soggy and cloying to everyone’s feet as they walked through. She made the quick trudge through the mud over to her hut and deposited her day’s haul of tubers down on the front porch. Her mother and father were still down in the field cleaning up, and she would get to grinding the roots into flour when they got back, but not before.

For now, she traipsed around to the back of her hut to where her small garden of herb seeds was now starting to grow strongly in the late afternoon sunlight. Bilal stroked some of their leaves affectionately and then brought her fingers up to her nose, savouring the pungent scents which they carried with them. Her hut stood directly at the base of the large cliffs which flanked part of the village and only in the afternoon did the sun wheel around in the sky far enough to reach this particular garden, so her herbs were making the most of this time and were all leaning towards the hot sphere of warmth high above.

Just then she heard a noise behind her, and Bilal swung around to stare into the sparse undergrowth which littered the base of the cliffs. It was probably nothing more than a bird or some other small creature, but even if it was, Bilal was not going to take any chances. She had already lost two of her herb plants to slugs this year and she wasn’t about to lose any more to thieving birds. Whatever it was moved again, a rustling of something definitely larger than a bird behind a large bush. For a moment, Bilal’s heart was filled with fear, could something dangerous have got past the palisade and into the village?

But just as she was about to run for help, Bilal saw the human hand, slender and tanned, reach out from behind the foliage, palm outwards, facing towards her, as if in supplication. This was followed by the rest of the arm, equally slender, and at last the rest of the person who had been hiding there. The woman appeared thin, near emaciated, her cheekbones were hard and sharp, and her dark hair was netted and ruffled, filled with twigs and other bits of the jungle. She held herself small and weakly as she looked up at Bilal with large desperate eyes, half in hope and half in fear of what her presence would mean.

For a moment Bilal stood stock still, unsure of what to do with the revelation of this stranger. Who was she? Where had she come from? What was she to do about her? For one moment all of these questions swirled around in her head, and then they were instantly washed away as she saw the tears running down the woman’s cheeks and took in her tattered and dirty clothing, her abject and unavoidable deprivation. She must be one of the peoples whose villages had been flattened by the recent storms. She had probably lost everything and was just trying to stay alive, desperate and in need of help before facing certain starvation and death.

At that moment Bilal knew that she had to help this woman, she was small and malnourished and dirty and a fellow human being, and she needed help. Bilal smiled and dropped her defensive stance, reaching out her arm to this new visitor in an act of kindness. The woman looked up, seemingly unsure of what to do. Bilal had been there, seven summers back the villages’ harvest had been ruined by some sort of black rot and food had been scarce that storm season. She remembered just how hard even thinking became after weeks on weeks of barely enough food, how hard it became to recognise even people’s faces and expressions.

She saw that this woman needed her help to even accept her help, so very slowly she moved across the small cleared area that formed her back garden and took her softly by the hand. The woman recoiled slightly at the touch, but after Bilal tried a second time, she allowed her hand to be taken and gently led towards the hut.

‘What’s your name?’ Bilal asked softly, her voice, quite possibly the first human voice that the woman had heard in weeks.

‘Hana,’ the woman replied quietly after just a moment, her eyes still downcast.

‘How did you get in Hana?’ Bilal asked. In reply, the woman Hana just looked up at the cliff behind them and pointed.

‘You climbed down the cliff?’

Hana just nodded demurely in reply and held out her palms, they were cut and scraped in various places and Bilal could see the dusty red rock of the cliffs still clinging to them in various places. Hana looked up at the bluffs and wondered how she had done it, the cliffs were near sheer with barely a handhold or root to grasp in sight. This woman looked small and malnourished but she was clearly determined artvin escort and tough as well.

Once they were inside Bilal’s hut, she sat Hana down on the small reed and straw pillow which stood to one side, the fire which often burned brightly in the centre of the single room now simmered low with a few small wafts of smoke rising from its ashes. Bilal quickly threw a few more small sticks and then a couple of larger ones at it to get it stoked up for the evening’s meal. Then she went out and filled a small clay pot with some water from the wooden carved water butt which collected rainwater off the roof, and went back inside to find Hana staring absentmindedly at the flames, as if she had forgotten what they were.

‘Let’s get you cleaned up.’

Bilal said calmly, as she dipped an old scrap of fur into the water and held it up to Hana’s dirt stained face. The woman did not resist, and merely continued to stare as Bilal gently cleaned away the rind which had coated not just her face, but her arms, legs, back and midriff. She was actually quite pretty, Bilal thought as she worked. Hana had a wide rounded heart-shaped face, with dark hooded eyes and long lustrous lashes. Nothing could be done right at this moment about the huge tangle of matted brown hair which covered her head, but when it was cleaned up Bilal thought that it would probably reach down to her lower back. Her arms and legs were thin with lack of food, but there was muscle buried under there, so she had not reached the stage of hunger where her body started to eat its own muscles.

Once she had Hana cleaned up, Bilal moved over to the basket of tubers which she had brought back from the field and brought it into the circle of light by the fire to begin grinding them. When she saw the tubers, Hana reached out impulsively towards them, clearly recognising them as food. Bit Bilal withdrew them from her reach, knowing that if they were not ground up and cooked then the roots would be bitter and would likely make Hana vomit rather than feed her.

‘Wait,’ she said firmly, holding up her palm.

She shifted around a bit til she was seated next to the large stone basin which sat beside the fire, along with her own stone pestle. One by one, she tipped the tubers into the basin and began to grind, mashing them down into the edible paste they would become. Hana looked at her as she did this, her eyes hungry, but also curious and seemingly fascinated. As she worked Bilal started to ask questions, trying to learn more about this mysterious stranger who had dropped into her life.

‘Where did you come from?’ For a moment Hana didn’t answer, but looked up and about as if confused, unsure of which direction was which.

‘Along the coast of the lake,’ she answered quietly, ‘The village by the big tree, we fished and grew fruit.’

‘What happened there?’

‘There was the wind, and the rain, it came so hard, harder than the huts could hold, they blew away, all of them, they blew it all away.’ For the first time an emotion flashed across Hana’s face, part fear, part sadness.

‘Your family? Did you have family?’ Bilal continued to probe,

‘My… partner and my daughter, they… They were taken by the waves, the water rose up and swallowed them all.’

Now tears were pooling in her eyes, and Bilal knew she had probed far enough for now, she knew what she needed to, and this woman clearly needed her help. Even though Bilal herself had never been in a close enough relationship to bear a child with anyone, she thought that she could imagine the grief that this woman must be struggling with, the empty hole in her life more painful than any hunger.

At this point the taro root was nearly ready, Bilal reached into the small pouch of her dried herbs that she kept hanging from a hook on the wall and crushed some up in her hand before grinding it into the mixture. She also added some of the crushed white crystals from down by the lake. That done, she took the large flat rock that she used for such things and spread the paste onto it in a thick loaf before poking the rock gently into the fire.

Outside, Bilal heard the sound of approaching footsteps and scrambled up to intercept, quickly thinking of what she would say to her parents to explain the situation. She ran through various different scenarios up to and including hiding Hana in the roof reeds, before she ran out of time and just decided to tell the truth. In through the door stepped her mother and father, both sweaty and dirt covered, carrying their own baskets of the taro root. As they stepped inside and saw the strange woman sitting by the fire, staring hungrily at the cooking meal, they stopped, their eyes swinging towards Bilal questioningly.

‘Bilal who is this?’ her mother asked, as she put her basket down beside the door frame.

‘Mother, this is Hana, i met her today out by the cliff, she’s hungry and alone and she needs help. So… I thought… that it would be kind bodrum escort to offer help,’ she finished sheepishly.

There was a moment of silence, as her mother and father shared one of those infuriating parental expressions which managed to convey so much meaning without words. Rather than suffering their silent discussion, Bilal simply went over and sat back down next to Hana, and placed a reassuring hand on her knee.

After a short moment her parents seemed to come to some kind of agreement and they both came over to sit by the fire as well. By now the taro patty on the rock had properly cooked through and the delicious smells of the herbs Bilal had infused into it were wafting through the small smoky interior of the hut. She could practically see Hana’s mouth watering.

‘Bilal,’ her father said sternly, ‘please serve dinner, and make it into four pieces.’

And that was that.

– – –

Over the next month or so, Hana began to slowly recover her strength, and seemingly a part of herself. As she began to put on weight again, her speech became less stilted and she became able to grasp more complex ideas. The rest of the village regarded her with suspicion to begin with, outsiders always being regarded as such. But soon they came to see her as just another member of Bilal’s family, especially as soon as she was able to start helping in the fields.

But of course, although Hana was more human now than the ragged bag of bones that she had been, she was still very closed off, quiet and insular, never laughing or even smiling very often. She was polite and kind, but she rarely spoke unless spoken to and often Bilal would find her in random fits of staring off into the distance, as if transfixed on something that no others could see. Bilal didn’t have to ask, she could guess that the poor woman was off in her mind, revisiting that awful day when her whole life had been swept away in wind and water. In these moments, Bilal would ask questions, calmly and softly and with this gentle encouragement, Hana would reveal a little more about her life, a morsel at a time.

She had been raised by her two mothers in the village of Yandir, which Bilal knew to be about two day’s walk along the coast of the great lake. There she had grown up, played with the other children, caught fish and helped to harvest taro root, just like she did here now. She and her first husband had met and the two had very quickly had a child together, but the little boy had died in the first three days of his life, and he had been given back to the great lake. Then a year later her daughter Alupwa had been born and she had survived into childhood.

Alupwa had been a rambunctious, hearty little one, always trying to play and help with children who were too big for her and inevitably getting in everyone’s way. When Hana talked about her lost child was when the first real fit of uncontrolled tears escaped. The rain clouds burst inside her and Bilal held her softly as she wept out the grief. It did not repair all the damage that had been done, but perhaps the storm inside her was less dark than it had been. After that day, Hana was occasionally seen to smile whenever anybody said hello, or helped her, and she even let out a small giggle every now and then when Bilal would playfully tease her by tickling before they went to bed.

As the hut was small and it was important to conserve heat on the long nights, the two young women shared a single bed of rolled reeds and grasses together. As time progressed, the two of them went from staying at opposite ends of the small cot, trying to maintain a semblance of personal space, to first holding hands as they stared up into the darkness, then sharing each other’s shoulders and finally falling asleep in each other’s arms. It was at these times that Hana would be able to let out a little more of her grief and loss, and she would weep a few silent tears while Bilal cradled her affectionately, every time, she cried a little less and for a little shorter time, and always afterwards there would be a small smile and a grateful forehead touch.

Bilal was sometimes confused and conflicted in her feelings about Hana. When she had first come into her life she had been a scared, lost desperate creature, closer to an animal than a person. Now several months later she had blossomed out into much more. She was still shy and quiet but the tenderness and gentleness behind her eyes could be seen every day. Bilal did her best to support her friend in her emotional healing, providing a shoulder to cry on and a hand to hold.

But at the same time, she maybe started to feel things for Hana that she thought might be a little beyond just a friendship. She would catch herself shooting sideways glances at her when they were working, weaving or just sitting and watching the clouds roll overhead. She would pay attention to the details of her face, the long dark mane of hair which had finally been rid of its last tangles, the small rounded shape of her nose or the hazel glow of colour within her eyes. She also found herself wanting to touch her body in ways that were more than just casual friendship. She wanted to run her hand down the smoothness of her hips and back, to feel the softness of her skin and run her fingers through that hair.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

When I first applied to B&M’s Writer’s desk as an intern, I was quite young but I was quite aware of my feelings towards Miss Yoon, the CEO of B&M. Whenever she was around, she reeked of work energy. I would admire her from afar because I was so certain our paths would never cross. Every day I watched her walk-by to her corner-office, watched her walk out to her window for a smoke break, watched her write proposals from my desk. Every minute of my time that I could spare I would use it to look her direction. She was the most graceful yet sternest being to ever run B&M. As I saw her now, I thought back to the day when I first saw her. She had come to my undergraduate program to speak at a Business Summit I attended. And I still remember how that skirt suit she wore in a green-gray blend swayed and clung to her body as she walked and talked. How the shade of her lipstick matched the shade of her hair, a deep red with hints of brown. How wet I was at the sight of her.

5:00pm and the clock chimed the end of a successful work day. As I packed and arranged my desk to go home, I received an e-mail directly from Miss Yoon. Starting the next day, I was to be her Executive Assistant. I was shocked. What had I done to warrant such merit? As I walked to her office to confirm the receipt of the email, I could tell by the stares and the whispers that everyone else had gotten the e-mail too. I wondered what that meant for me. I knocked on her door, and as I waited for a response, I admired her name in gold plate on the door. Yoon Alice. A-L-I-C-E. I let her name run round in my head. Repeated the ring of it. Mouthed it just to feel it roll of my lips. I was so invested in it that I missed the call to enter twice. When I had come to and put a hand to open the door, the door swung open and there she stood in front of me. A radiance of beauty and excellence. It felt like she’d just seized all the air in my lungs but I quickly snapped out of it lest it cost me my job and apologized for the delay in response. She looked me over and I was sure to everything that I died. Was she appraising me or was she reconsidering?

She ushered me in and closed the door behind me. She made her way to her executive swivel chair and motioned for me to sit.

“Evening, Miss May. I know I am extending you past work hours but as you already know, an important role has been passed to you now. Within the next few months, the company will experience a radical change because our industry is becoming very competitive. I will be going on a lot of work conferences, calls, trips and will be attending and hosting a reasonable number of charity events and galas. Normally, I don’t need an assistant but I aksaray escort now do to enable better efficiency with planning and tracking of events. Your employee portfolio has put you in a good spot for this position but you are open to consideration if there is a specific path of life you’ve already chosen to follow. Every trip expense and certain other perks will be covered by the company should you chose to accept. Do you accept?”

My head was spinning for so many different reasons. This new opportunity would allow me be around Miss Yoon 24/7. I would take orders from her and report to just her. I would be her pet and would get to her my name from her lips. Miss May. No. It didn’t sound right.

“Please call me May. I would love to be your assistant. It’s all I’ve ever dreamed of.” Oh no. I caught myself. I had made a blunder. I had let lust take control of my mind. Did she hear it that way? Oh no.

And as I panicked, she stood up and walked over to me and sat on the desk in front of me. She bent over and took a bit of my black curls and twirled the in her fingers. Slowly, she said “Well May, you are cute *chuckles*, we’ll have lots of fun. All work and no play make Jack a dull boy. You may go.”

She moved away and I swore under my breathe. I think I’m obsessed. Later that night, 2 friends of my, Shantel and Grace suggested we go to the gay bar to celebrate my promotion. Honestly, I would have preferred to just stay home and masturbate like I already had been doing before they arrived but I had no choice in the matter and soon we were inside the club. We got a sit at the bar table and ordered 3 tequila shots and 3 margaritas. We made it to the dance floor and danced our hearts away. When the 4th song was over that’s when I caught glimpse of her hair. I was so sure it was Miss Yoon’s. I left my friends and wandered around following the glimpse of red hair. As I passed the bar, I stopped for another 2 shots of tequila because I needed the courage to ask her what she meant by “we’ll have lots of fun”. This was out of work hours so I hoped she wouldn’t mind a bit of after-work energy considered we were inside the club. That must have been the alcohol speaking.

I followed her through a door that read “STAFF ONLY” and I wondered if she was a staff. I hadn’t even stopped to think if it was really her and if it was, why would she be here and why I had just walked through staff only like I was a staff. I was totally consumed in the color of her hair and dreamed of seeing her. Under the influence, the dream seemed to come alive. That had to be the only reason I was following the red color of an unidentified woman’s hair. Right?

“Hey amasya escort you, who are you? You’re not supposed to be here” were the words that snapped me out of it. And just as I was about to give some confused explanation, I heard her voice.

“Let my pet in, James. May, come.” As if drawn by her words, I moved and James followed me. Soon, I saw her in her habitat, a private corner office with the air of a queen. I walked over to her and stood right beside. James made to grab me but she waved him off. “This is my pet, May. Anything she wants, she gets. Understood?” He nodded and left. Meanwhile, I was screaming in my head. Her pet? Anything I want, I get? Who is this woman?

“May” Even the way she says my name is pretty.

“Yes, Miss Yoon” I replied as I turn to look at her properly. She was dressed in a very sexy silk dress with slits on both sides revealing a generous amount of her breasts. I could see her hard-as-rock nipples through the dim lighting and silk clothing. I noticed her recently done nails were red in color and looked very beautiful as they hung over the glass of whiskey on the rocks. She dipped her fingers in the glass and stirred. “No objections to being my pet?”

“None, Miss Yoon.” I found myself saying

“Then kneel.” The words rung out like a spell and I was hit. I walked over to her very before, knelt and presented my tongue. As if on cue, she dipped her whiskey-flavored fingers in my mouth and I sucked. Her fingers felt so soft against my lips. I shivered as they explored my lips, my tongue and my throat. I felt my groin pulsing hard, my nipples growing hard, the red flush to my face. I was so horny yet all I wanted to do was have her to “…use me.”

“And that I shall.” I didn’t know that my thoughts had leaked out and she had heard me. By the time, I realized, I wasn’t going to take it back. My mistress had lifted up her gown to reveal a red lingerie set that I didn’t notice before.

“Eat.” And I did. It was unlike any taste I had ever come across. The smell of her overwhelmed me and I lost my mind. I was consumed in her, eating her delicate pink pussy like it’s all that mattered. She tasted tropical and divine. As I licked and lashed out, I felt her creaming on my tongue and I dug deeper. By now, her moans had filled the air, singing my praises.

“Oh, you’re such a good girl, you’re making my cum all over your little long tongue” “oh such a good bad girl…ohh ohh yes yes” “oh May, yes harder right there. Oh, you’re doing it so well”

Yes, I slubbered all over that pussy, making her so fucking wet she couldn’t see straight. I dipped 3 fingers into her pussy to feel her clench so hard antalya escort and moan. It’s coming. I put my tongue right under pussy and rubbed hard on her clit, licking her slowly as I rubbed. Soon she was moaning and bulking over my face and I didn’t stop no matter how much she pleaded. She dragged my face into her pussy as I held her legs up, I ate deeper. I was so horny that I became delirious with the taste of her cum. I licked it all up with deep strokes, sucking on her clit with two fingers in her, rubbing her clit. Soon I felt the waves of a second orgasm rush into my mouth. She let out a very deep moan that signified that I had successfully satisfied my mistress.

Alice raised my head from my meal and I whined a little. She smirked at me and said “You’ve been such a good girl so I’ll give you a reward. A little of a lot to come.” She had me sit on her table right in front of her face with my back to the table propped up only by my elbows and my legs spread apart. She pulled out from the side desk cabinet a neatly wrapped pink present. She gave it to me to unwrap and out came a pink vibrator. “May, there’s a lot for you to do to earn my tongue on your clit. – As she said “your clit”, I felt a warmness pour out of me like volcano lava and I moaned – “Till you earn it, I’ll tease you my pet and make you cum once.” With that, she put the vibrator on my clit at a very low frequency and spit out saliva slowly unto my clit.

I was being pleased by my mistress! The woman that I had fantasies of was going to touch my clit. She didn’t understand how much I would cum just at the touch of her. But a feel of her tongue would on my clit was a thought that drowned my mind the moment I heard I roll of my lips. Already creaming, I felt the vibrator between my labia and felt the sleekness of her saliva and moaned “Alice…” She retorted “Miss Yoon” and I felt a smack on my ass. I moaned again “Alice”. She retorted again “Miss Yoon!” and repeated the smack. This went on for a while longer with her increasing the speed of the vibrator and intensity of the smacks at my disobedience. My bum was soon red and gushing cum and she seemed to be delighted yet unappeased. To appease her, I reached out my hand to rub my clit for my mistress. I purred “Miss Yoon” while rubbing my clit for her. I moaned that name severally while rubbing and pinching my nipples and clit. She seemed to like the show now. She soon had the vibrator to her kitty and her legs raised to the desk. We both stroked our kitties to the rhythm of the other. Moaning. Creaming. Pinching nipples.

It felt like a melody unlike any other. The chemistry was so powerful that I had cum was dripping off the table. She scooted over beneath it to let the cum drip unto the pussy. She moaned at feel of my cum touching her clit and I moaned in acknowledgement.

“May, you’ll really love being my executive assistant.”

I giggled and replied. “I know I will Miss Yoon.” I couldn’t wait for work tomorrow!

THE END.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

It wasn’t until I met my wonderful husband that I realized being a bisexual woman was completely fine. All he ever wanted was for me to be me…and I am so very lucky that he has been right by my side while I walk the path of discovery. It’s been over twenty years since a version of these events occurred, and I am still discovering new things- with him right next to me!

*

I grew up in a rather conservative family. I remember once as a teenager I mentioned bisexuality being the best of both worlds and my mother snapped back, “Absolutely not. I understand that some people are confused, but they need to make a choice. A person is either gay or straight.” My mom wasn’t against people being gay; however, my dad was not a fan. He was not a bible thumper or compared homosexuality to the devil’s work But he did believe that men and women are supposed to be with the opposite gender. With all of that said, as a teenager I assumed I either had to be gay or straight. Well fuck. I didn’t know. And not knowing led to a lot of internal conflict.

When I was nineteen, I met Ryan. I was a freshman in college, and he was ten years my senior. Of course, he thought I was way too young, but over the course of time I broke him down. Eventually, he decided to date me. I was so taken by Ryan, that for a brief moment, I forgot all about my sexuality struggles. I knew in my heart that he was the man I was going to be with.

One night Ryan and I were waiting to be seated at a fancy restaurant. A woman and her

husband walked in and stood near us. I leaned over to Ryan and commented on how pretty I thought the woman was.

“Do you find all women attractive or just this one?” he inquired.

Without even thinking, I replied, “I find women in general beautiful…I guess.” Even though we had only been dating for a few months, Ryan and I had developed a close bond. He knew me very well, and for some reason his response changed the course of our lives.

He said, “You know you can like both.”

“What?” I was taken back. I was told that you can’t like both, and now I’m being told I

can. It didn’t matter if Ryan told me the sky was green or purple – I would have believed him. So it was at that moment that I realized I could be bisexual. When we got home that night, Ryan continued to ask me about my feelings for women. So often men hear “two chicks,” and they are ready to get their rocks off. Ryan wasn’t that way; he was truly trying to help me find myself.

“Ya know Molly, it’s totally fine if you find women attractive or even if you want to be with them sexually. That’s normal.”

“But I love you. I want to be with you.”

“I don’t doubt that for a moment, but the two don’t have to be exclusive. You may be with a woman and realize that you are not bisexual. You may realize you will never be happy unless you are with a woman. Or you may simply learn that it could be fun here and there. But you owe it to yourself to figure that out now at twenty and not at forty.”

“But I don’t want to figure it out with you,” I said. As a young, inexperienced woman, I was not going to do anything without Ryan by my side. “Besides…” I started, “I don’t even know how to go about this or how to figure this out.”

“How about if we ask Lisa to come over.” Lisa was Ryan’s good friend at work who also happened to be married to Tamara. “Lis can help give you some things to think about. I mean, I can help, but you may actually want to talk to a gay woman about all of this.” I thought Lisa was a lovely woman, but she was Ryan’s friend- not mine. It would be awkward.

“Will you be there? You won’t… like… drop me off and leave me, will you?”

“Ummm. No. How about we invite them over for dinner. You good talking to Lisa with Tamara there? Or you want Lis alone?”

“I guess they can both come over. Can you talk to Lisa before though, so she knows what’s up.”

“For sure!”

____________________________________________________________________________

Back then I was a really serious college student who spent most of her time at the library, so Ryan and I didn’t have a ton of time to talk about Lisa and Tamara coming over. One night I got home late from the library, but Ryan was still awake.

“Hey, sexy buns. How was class today?”

“Long. I have another paper due next week. Holy heckin’ hay! It’s so much work.” I curled up next to my man.

“Does that mean you are too busy to do dinner this weekend with Lisa and Tamara? I’ve been talking to Lis, and she’s totally cool coming over. We can have dinner. Hangout. Have a few drinks…not for you. You’re still a baby.”

“Holy shit. You mean…she knows…you told her I was bi?” afyon escort I whispered my question. Why? I don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t ready for anyone to know my sexuality. Maybe I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself. Or maybe I was just being over dramatic.

Ryan whispered back, “Yes. She knows. And guess what?”

“What?”

“She doesn’t care…nor does anyone else for that matter.”

“Trust me. My parents will care. My friends will care.”

“So is that a no to dinner?”

“No…I think that’s cool. We can have them over.” At twenty years of age, my cooking was nothing to write home about, so I told Ryan that we would just order pizza. He gave me a kiss on the forehead and reassured me that everything would work out just fine. (Fun fact- we’ve been married for nearly twenty years, and he is still correct…everything works out)

____________________________________________________________________________

When Saturday rolled around, I was pretty nervous. The only person who really knew my inner desires was Ryan, and now I was about to talk to two women who I only sort of knew. When Lisa and Tamara showed up, they quickly put my mind and heart at ease. They brought with them ice cream, which has been the solution to all of my problems my entire life. As we ate pizza, we made small talk about how I was doing in college. Since Ryan and Lisa worked together, they talked about their job. Lisa and Ryan are pretty close and have a lot of inside jokes and stories that Tamara and I were oblivious to, so we sat there and listened.

“Hey,” Tamara leaned over towards me. “Can we have ice cream now? I’m jonesing for some sugar!”

“Yes! Want to help me get it?”

“Sure!” I informed the others that we were going to get dessert, and we would be right back. Tamara got into the freezer, and I got the bowls. As I dished it out, she asked me how I was doing.

“Oh fine. I mean school is busy, but I like it. Ryan is cool that I live at the library so much…” She cut me off

“No. I mean with the stuff that you are dealing with.” She lowered her voice. I wasn’t sure why, but maybe she was trying to address the baby elephant in the room.

“Oh.” I could feel my face get red. “Well yes…I mean Ryan is great, and he listens. But how do I know if I am bisexual or just like the idea of being naughty? Or if I am just being a weird twenty-year-old? Maybe I’m over analyzing it…”

“I would suggest that you try being with a woman. Even if it is as simple as kissing one.

If you feel something then you would know that there is more to explore. If you feel nothing, then there’s your answer.”

When we took out the ice cream, Lisa asked, “What were you two ladies talking about in there?”

“Not much,” Tamara started, “I was just encouraging little miss Molly here to find a nice woman to make out with.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me!” Ryan said.

“I’m sure you do,” I said as I plopped down next to him.

“Tamara and I could help with that…if you are interested?”

I just looked at Lisa not knowing where she was going with this. Tamara giggled as she ate her ice cream. Lisa looked at Ryan and winked.

“Hey Ry?” Lisa began, “why don’t we put this ice cream in the freezer and go into the bedroom. You can sit in a chair, so you are near Molly. But let me and Tamara take care of her.”

“Are you good with that?” Ryan asked me.

“Ummm…sure. Just don’t leave!”

“I won’t, baby.”

Ryan took the bowls from us, and then the four of us went into our bedroom. Ryan sat down in a chair that we had in the corner of our room. I crawled into the middle of my bed.

“So Ms. Molly,” Lisa began, “I’m going to talk you and Tamara through a few things. Are you good with me directing you two?”

I kind of laughed because I was nervous- but of course I agreed.

“Perfect. Now, I want you and Tamara to sit across from each other.” We moved, so we were facing each other.

“Now uncross your legs you two, so you can get closer. I want you two to be lips apart.” Tamara and I uncrossed our legs and moved closer. We both had long legs, so we had to work on her legs going on top of mine. After a minute of untangling our long limbs, we were close.

“Tamara, I want you to lean in and give Molly a gentle kiss on the lips.” Tamara leaned in and her full lips made contact with mine- but just barely. I had my eyes closed, but when I didn’t feel her lips fully on mine, I opened my eyes to see what she was doing. She smiled.

“I was just making sure you wanted this,” she whispered.

“I do.” Tamara leaned in slightly more and made full contact. We kissed gently. aydın escort Her lips were softer than I could have imagined. I am used to Ryna’s scruffiness. Tamara pulled away. I was not ready for the kiss to end.

“Now, Molly, I want you to lean in and kiss Tamara, but this time I want you two to touch each other’s faces. Feel free to kiss more passionately.” I obeyed. I leaned into Tamara and kissed her, but my hands were holding both of her cheeks. I opened my mouth slightly and moved my tongue into her mouth. Again, I could not get over how much softer this woman felt. Her brown, soft skin reminded me of moose- it was so decadent. Delicious. Her hands moved to my neck. She pushed my hair back and then used her right hand to run her fingers across the base of my skull. Her nails scratching my skin sent shivers down my body. We continued to kiss. I was hungry for more. After several minutes, I heard Lisa say, “Touch her breast, baby.”

Tamara cupped my right breast with her hand and began to knead the flesh. She would rotate between rubbing my breast and pinching my nipples. I was excited to touch Tamara because she had small, perky tits. I was curious what it would be like to touch such a small breast. Tamara moved her hand under my shirt and felt me through my bra. I moaned into her mouth.

“Do you like this?” she whispered?

“Oh yes. I do.”

“Do you want to feel my skin?”

“Mmmhmmm,” I purred back.

“Hey you two,” Lisa interrupted. “I am directing.”

“Sorry, babe. Molly here is wanting a little more. Can I give it to her?”

It was at this time that I looked over at Ryan who watched in awe. I got even more turned on when I noticed that he was rubbing his erection through his jeans. I could see a small wet spot where he had released some precum. “Can I have more?” I asked Ryan, already knowing his answer.

“Of course, baby.”

It was at this point that Tamara lifted my t-shirt over my head and threw it over to Ryan. Then she removed her shirt and threw it to Lisa. She traced down my clavicle with her long, dark fingers. The contrast of her dark skin and my light skin aroused me even more. She traced the outline of my bra. She then leaned towards me, unhooking the clasp in the back. It sprang loose. I pulled it off of my shoulders, threw it to my man, and winked. Tamara took both of my breasts in her hands and rubbed my two nipples together.

“Damn. These are large. I’m quite small.”

“I think you are lovely,” I replied.

“Touch me, Molly.” At this moment I leaned forward and kissed her neck. I gave her little nibbles as I reached behind her and undid her bra. Her small breasts were perky. While my breasts hung down, hers just stood at perfect attention. Her nipples were no larger than a quarter and nearly black. I traced circles around each nipple making them even more erect.

Lisa now said, “I want you two to lay back. I want you to rub your breasts together. While you are nipple to nipple, I want you to kiss. Molly, I want you to rub your hands up and down Tamara’s skin. Make sure to spend some time on her ass. Grab it with your hands and pull her close to you. Tamara, make sure you touch Molly’s inner thighs, but do not make too much contact yet with her pussy.”

Tamara and I laid down. Since she was smaller than me, she laid somewhat on top of me. She was kind of on her side, but two of our nipples smashed together. She moved her body up and down slightly, so I could feel her soft skin against mine. As we made out, I grabbed Tamara’s ass like I was instructed to, which caused her to grind her pussy more into my leg. She began moving herself up and down, putting pressure on her clit. She moaned with pleasure. As she was moving back and forth, she would rub my thighs. God, I wanted her to touch my pussy. I could feel myself getting wetter by the second, and it ached. I wanted contact.

“I…want…” I tried to say through my sexual panting. “I…want…more. Please. Touch me.”

“Mmmm. Does your pussy want to feel a woman’s touch?” Tamara asked.

“Yes. God. Yes.”

“Lisa? Can I have permission to finger fuck this bisexual virgin.”

“Hmmm…Ryan what do you think?”

“I will allow it if I am allowed to stroke my cock.” All three of us ladies liked the sound of that. I didn’t have a clear view of Ryan, but I heard him unzip his pants.

Tamara slid her hand into my pants and began to rub my pussy through my panties. I was so horny that I humped her hand. Pushing my pussy more and more into her fingers. I wanted to feel her skin on my skin. That’s when she slipped a hand into my panties. She ran her middle finger up and down my slit. My lips ağrı escort were swollen, and I knew she could feel my wetness before she even separated my lips. This was delicious torture. She cupped my pussy lips and pushed down slightly with her palm. The pressure on my clit felt so good. She moved her palm in circles as I moved my hips back and forth. My eyes were closed, and I could feel myself biting my lower lip.

“I want to feel you inside of me…” I apparently said. I know that I was thinking about it, but apparently I couldn’t hold that in. Tamara took her middle finger and separated my lips. She dipped her middle finger into my dripping hole. Then she used that wetness to lubricate my clit in which she drew circles around. She continued this process, but each time she pushed her middle finger into my entrance a little deeper. Then she stopped. My eyes flew open in alarm.

“It’s okay,” she said when she noticed my concern. She rolled more onto her side. “I want you to touch me. What I do to your pussy, I want you to do to mine. Are you comfortable with that?”

“Oh yes,” I replied. I moved my hand into Tamara’s pants. I rubbed the outside of her pussy with my finger. Her lips were larger than mine, or they were more defined because I could feel two individual lips whereas mine just felt like a mound of flesh. Tamara then moved her hand back onto my pussy skin, so I did the same. As we laid facing each other she began to draw circles around my clit, but she also leaned in and kissed me passionately. I copied her movement. I remembered to dip my finger into her hole to get some wetness.

Then Tamara began rubbing my G spot. Her middle finger curled slightly to rub the sensitive pad. When I did that to her, she moaned into my mouth. She did not take her finger out, but rather moved it back and forth rapidly against my G spot. I began bucking my hips against her hand as a natural response. Tamara then stuck another finger into me, so I felt slightly more pressure. However, this time it was her index finger that was doing the work.

I did as she did, but she was so wet that my fingers kept slipping out because they were not as long as her fingers. I clearly was going to need some practice. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“You’re doing great,” she reassured me. “Let’s try this. I want you to pretend my pussy is your pussy. Rub like you would rub yourself when you masturbate. I will copy you this time.” I was a pro when it came to masturbation, so I knew exactly what to do. I put my index finger on the side of her clit and pressed down so there was just slight pressure. I then vibrated my finger back and forth. When my index finger got tired, I quickly switched with my middle finger. Tamara seemed to like that because she stopped rubbing my pussy for a second while she pushed her hips into my hands. Then she got back to rapidly rubbing my clit with her fingers. She was like a human vibrator. After several minutes Tamara began to whimper. I wasn’t sure if she was having an orgasm since I am typically loud. But after a few seconds, she said in a husky voice, “for your first time, you’re not too bad, kid.”

“Thank you!” I was so excited that I was able to get her off-my first time!!

“You’re turn baby.” She continued to rub my pussy with her fingers. She put two fingers on top of my clit and moved them quickly until I couldn’t hold it in any longer. Wave after wave came over me, and I growled, “Holy fucking shit…” After I came down from the summit, I opened my eyes and gave her a huge smile. “Thank you so much! I really appreciated this experience.”

“I think Ryan appreciated it more,” Lisa said. I lifted my head up and looked over at the love of my life. He had the biggest grin on his face along with a handful of cum. Apparently, he was a fan of two chicks!

“She’s got a point, Mol.” Ryan said. “I may have enjoyed it more than you.”

“You know,” Tamara began, “Molly catches on pretty quick, I think a few more lessons, Lis and she will be a full blown lesi!”

“A few more lessons?” I asked.

“Well of course baby! Who do you think is going to teach you how to eat pussy?” She darted her head towards Ryan. “Not this one.”

“Hey now! I have skills, don’t I, Mol?”

“Yes you do baby!”

Lisa stated, “So I guess we’re getting together again for some additional lessons.” Everyone seemed to like that plan.

Tamara and I got dressed while Ryan cleaned off his hands. I was not sure if Lisa masturbated while Tamara and I played, and I was too shy at the time to ask. After we watched movies and had ice cream (finally), our friends left.

“So what do you think, babe? You going to leave me for the other pink meat?”

“Ryan Eric! I’m never going to leave you, but I must admit that was hotter than I could have ever imagined. Are you okay with it all?”

He pulled me into a big bear hug and kissed the top of my head. “Babe, Lisa and I already have your next training lesson scheduled!”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Blind Obsession by Alexa Chamberlain

1

Jill always looked good in a blindfold, anyway. Her black hair fell over the blind as Kelly made sure Jill could not see.

Jill’s face and shoulders were splashed with freckles that faded to white further down her chest. A soft nose, black hair, and blue eyes made her stunningly cute. Complimenting those features were full breasts with large nipples, soft legs and a rounded, tight ass. At 5’1″, she was a compact beauty. 22 years old and full of quiet sexuality.

Kelly was 30, taller at 5’5″, with shoulder length dark red hair. Slender with long legs, she boasted a pair of large DD breasts that swung in a sexy way when she was naked. A pretty face, milky white skin, and a half smile that always looked slightly dirty. She kept her pussy shaved and smooth, highlighting the silver hoop that pierced her left labia, matching the one on her lower lip.

2

They were both kneeling on the floor, Kelly behind Jill. “Can you see at all?”

“No, nothing.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying. I can’t see, honest.”

Kelly looped a lock of black hair behind Jill’s ear.

A pumpkin spice candle added soft light along with the fire in the huge fireplace.

Jill was naked except for the blindfold and the fine, silver chain hanging around her neck and looping in between her breasts.

Kelly reached around and cupped Jill’s breasts, gliding her fingers over her swelling nipples.

“Behind your back, adana escort give me your hands.” Without a word, Jill complied. With a long black silk scarf, Kelly bound Jill’s hands behind her.

3

They had blankets laid out in front if the fire, assorted throw pillows around them. Jill was kneeling on one so she was comfortable. There was supposed to be some pain, but not discomfort from kneeling. Kelly wanted her comfortable.

Kelly stood up and stood back a little, just to admire Jill kneeling down, blindfolded and bound. Light flickered and Kelly noticed the streak of purple hair on the left side of Jill’s head.

“You’re so beautiful, Jill.”

“Thank you.”

“I love the shape of your breasts, how round and pretty they are.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m jealous of everyone who’s ever sucked them.”

Jill stayed silent.

“Do you want me to suck them?”

“Yes.”

Kelly knelt in front of Jill and leaning in, cradled one breast to her lips. She licked Jill’s nipple just underneath to it’s now erect tip.

Kelly then lifted Jill’s breast higher, and closed her mouth down onto it. She felt Jill’s nipple inside her mouth, and began to release her from her mouth. She felt the nipple start to slide out from her lips when she sucked as much of Jill back into her mouth as she could.

Jill loved the sensation, but only breathed a quiet sigh of pleasure.

Kelly moved to the other breast, starting with gentle sucking. She raked her teeth ankara escort across Jill’s breasts and nipples more aggressively now.

4

Kelly released Jill’s breast from her mouth, watching as it fell with a soft bounce back to Jill’s chest.

Kelly stood and lit the white votive candle they both agreed to use tonight.

Once some wax had pooled around the flame, Kelly knelt behind Jill again. “You ready?”

“Yes.” Replied Jill.

With that, Kelly poured a small stream of hot wax onto Jill’s left shoulder, and watched it trickle down and over her breast, stopping just above her erect nipple. Jill let out a breath in a whoosh. It was hotter and more painful than she expected, but she also felt the rush of wetness in her pussy.

Kelly poured more of the melted, milky white wax onto her same shoulder, closer to her neck now. The trail of wax broke into two streams as one raced directly over Jill’s nipple, the other onto the silver chain in between her breasts. The wax heated the fine silver, and she felt it burn into her skin slightly.

“You look amazing, so fucking hot,” said Kelly.

“Thank you.”

Kelly repeated the process over Jill’s right shoulder. Small streams of wax rolled down Jill’s body, reaching her breasts, and down to her stomach. One stream finally reached the inner crease of Jill’s thigh, stopping just outside the left of her pussy.

Kelly noticed a black tear escape from behind the blindfold.

“Shall I stop?”

“No, adıyaman escort no.”

“Almost done.”

Kelly got in front of Jill and flicked the candle across Jill’s neck and chest.

“Ahhhh,” Jill quietly breathed out.

Kelly began photographing Jill. “These are so gorgeous, baby. It looks like cum all over you.”

“But I like this pain”, noted Jill.

5

Kelly stood directly in front of Jill now, her own pussy inches away from Jill’s face. Jill sensed it, but could only smell wax. Jill leaned forward slightly until her lips met the lips of Kelly’s pussy. Kelly widened her stance just enough that Jill could kiss her pussy. Jill began to lick along the edges of Kelly’s shaved pussy, now taking in her taste and smell.

Kelly ran her fingers through Jill’s hair, pulling her into her pussy.

“Oh Jill, suck it…”

Jill found Kelly’s clit and gently sucked in and out.

“I wish I had a cock sometimes.” Kelly said.

“I’d suck it deep,” cooed Jill.

Kelly came and felt her pussy flood across Jill’s mouth.

“Unnn, mmm, Jill, fuck…Jill…”

Jill worked over Kelly’s pussy for another two orgasms. Weak in the knees, Kelly finally knelt down again behind Jill.

6

“I want to see it.”

Kelly removed the blindfold. Some of the wax had begun to crack and fall away from Jill’s skin. Kelly pulled off the remaining wax, caressing Jill’s tits as she worked. Jill looked down at the pattern of red marks and smiled. She loved the red marks left by the burning wax, the scratches and teeth marks in her breasts left by Kelly.

Facing each other on their knees, they started kissing. Softly at first, followed by increased passion and need.

“I feel so loved,” said Jill.

“You are, baby. I love you.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

It was the first Friday of Tiffany Jones’ gig at Woodhaven. Mmmm, it had been such a great first week, having horny teen girls who were eager to lick her creaming cunt during the pleasure the teacher time, and having the virile principal eager to ram her as she demonstrated sexual intercourse positions.

Friday’s position had been especially hot, on top of her desk, riding his swollen prick like a cowgirl gone wild, watching the class as they masturbated furiously, the room a symphony of wet squelches, cries, moans, and grunts of pleasure, then the bursting, and shrieks and squeals of orgasmic completion, teens coming around their furiously pumping fingers, Tiffany letting out loud squeals as her cunt started to spasm crazily, as Mr. Hunter joined in, his cock pulsing wildly, flooding her with a rich serving of liquid heat.

Add in the after school times, 4 down, and 21 to go. It had been an even split, 2 of the girls, Paige and Krystal, eager to get used hard by her, and she’d fucked them and dominated them like the teacher in command.

Deanna and Caroline wanted to use her, and be the ones who commanded the action. God, it had been so fucking amazing, being ordered to submit, submissively licking their hot cunts and tight, puckered assholes, then being fucked by teens who were in command, and teaching the teacher.

When Tiffany got home, she was still running hot, and she was thinking about her first time doing another woman.

*****

Tiffany had learned how to lick pussy because of her Mom’s next-door neighbor. While Tiffany was at home during her college summer break, her next-door neighbor, Maryann Stinson, seduced Tiffany. Tiff was 18 and Maryann was 40, Maryann had a thing for 18-year-old girls. Legal, and therefore, fuckable. She had been lured into her house, and once Maryann had her in her grasp, it wasn’t long before she directed Tiffany, stripping her naked, getting her into bed, and seducing her.

Maryann was a very dominant one, Tiffany would always serve her. She loved to strap on a dildo, getting between Tiffany’s legs and ramming that 9 inches into her. Tiffany could remember every bit of it, the big black strap-on driving in, her red-painted fingernails digging into Tiffany’s thighs, and raking over her hips.

She remembered well, just where Maryann would hold onto her, guiding her as she fucked Tiffany nice and hard. Tiffany could see her honey-colored hair and her full-tanned boobs swaying as she really laid the dildo to Tiff’s cunt. When Tiffany had exploded, Maryann would sit on her face, screaming like a banshee as Tiffany’s tongue was put to good use. Every weekday afternoon during that summer, she was over there, servicing the hungry sexual appetite of Maryann.

One time, while Tiffany was being well fucked, the door to the bedroom opened, and her husband walked in. Tiffany was startled, but Maryann wasn’t.

”Look lover, look how well Tiffy is getting fucked. Fuck my mouth while I fuck her pussy!”

Looks like she had set this up, and Tiffy relaxed as her husband stepped over, and Tiffany, being face up, got to watch the action. Maryann’s dildo filled her, fucking her, while she sucked and slurped all over her husband’s rock-stiff prick, humming as her lips rode his pole.

Her husband grunted, shoving his cock between Maryann’s lips over and over, “Take it, take it, take it, fuck yeah!”

Tiffany could see his cock start to pulse with the climax, she could imagine the thick, hot jets of it washing over her eager tongue, swallowing and tokat escort swallowing as he poured a river of hot spunk into her mouth, taking Tiffany over in a screaming orgasm as her cunt exploded.

*****

Remembering it, Tiffany was running hot. She knew what she wanted. Once she dialed the number and it was answered, she wasted no time.

“Paige, would you like to come over to my house, and stay the night?”

Paige’s voice had a husky, lusty edge to it, as she cooed, ”Oh yes, I’d love to.”

Tiffany decided she wanted to get used again, accordingly, she cooed, ”Once you get here, I’ll get my ass naked, present my body for your inspection, then you’re going to use my body for your pleasure.”

Paige’s voice was a husky growl, as she replied, ”Mmmmm, I can’t wait to teach the teacher!”

When Paige arrived 15 minutes later, Tiffany was a mass of heated lust. The tall redhead was face to face with her, and she grabbed Tiffany’s head, smooshed her lips against Tiffany’s, and started to kiss her, demanding, hungry. Paige’s tongue was in her mouth, licking and swirling, taking possession of the first of her three eager and horny holes.

When they broke the kiss, Paige ordered, ”Now Tiff, get your sweet ass naked!”

Tiffany did so, enjoying Paige’s gaze as she watched the delectable Miss Jones get naked for her. Mmmm, teacher had a hot body, she was 3 inches shorter than Paige, at five foot seven, about 130 pounds, shoulder-length golden honey color hair, jade green eyes, firm, upright breasts, full grapefruit-sized mounds, the nipples jutting up, her tummy was flat, her hips had a sexy curve, sleek, full legs.

Paige circled her, drinking in the vision, like a jungle cat sizing up its prey, Tiffy’s rump had a graceful curve, perky and smooth. It was so stimulating to watch her get pleasured during pleasure the teacher time, and to watch her hot body in action during sexual positions class, masturbating wildly while they watched her getting stuffed. Paige loved to drag it out, doing her best to hang on until Tiff’s howls of pleasure filled the classroom, she would explode immediately, and the sight of Tiff’s wildly sexy body in the throes of climax made Paige’s orgasms all the more enjoyable.

“Now your turn Tiff, get me naked.”

Tiffany’s fingers were trembling with excitement as she stripped Paige, enjoying the sight of Paige’s sexy nudity, 5’10” inches of redheaded heat, Tiffany kissed and sucked at her 36D breasts, licking and sucking on the nipples, as she continued on, Paige’s purrs of pleasure rising up.

When she slid down Paige’s jeans, her pussy was uncovered, and her pussy lips were waxed bare and hairless. She had a neatly trimmed triangle shape of her naturally red hair adorning her mons, she watched as Paige spread her stance just a bit. Mmmmm, Tiffany knew what to do, kneeling like a subservient, eager-to-please sex doll, and she let her tongue lead the way, slipping it along Paige’s sweet cunt lips, then plastering her mouth tightly against her, her tongue drove up into her hot, pink waterslide. A rush of juices flowed over her tongue as she wriggled it around, eager to taste every drop of Paige’s essence.

Paige cooed with pleasure, mmmm, Tiffy sure was a skilled cunt licker. If she had not been between some hot steamy cunt, learning how to orally please a woman, she sure was a natural.

“Lick me, teacher, lick my cunt!”

Tiffany eagerly did so, her cunt churning with heated lust as she tasted the rich yozgat escort flow of Paige. Encouraged by Paige’s order, she went at her wet pink hole eagerly, her hot, wet tongue plunging deep into the soupy wetness, scooping up a flow of juices, then bringing her tongue back to spread her wetness all over the outside of her opening, and flicking at her tingling clit. Tiffany imagined what it looked like from Paige’s viewpoint, the Teacher’s blonde head of hair bobbing between her thighs, eagerly feasting on her creaming juices.

Paige growled, “Oh my god, so good, so fucking good, keep licking me Teacher, you’re so good, make me cum!”

Tiffany smiled as she heard Paige ready to explode. She felt Paige’s hands cradling her head, stroking her blonde hair, and she went at Paige hungrily, licking wildly at the gleaming flesh and twitching clit, pumping two fingers in and out, bringing her right to the very edge.

Tiffany’s lips closed around Paige’s throbbing clit, sucking hard at her orgasm trigger, and Paige let out raw shrieks of pleasure as she tumbled, ripples of orgasm gripped Tiffany’s plunging fingers in her soupy wetness, bringing a rich rush of juices. Paige felt her juices flowing out, she pulled Tiffany’s face tight against her, moaning and grunting as she rotated her hips, Tiffy drinking deeply of the copious rush of juices flowing.

Paige had brought a backpack with her, it was full of fun things to use on the sexually driven Tiff.

Tiff watched, her body surging with lust as Paige stepped into the harness of a black 8-inch strap-on dildo. This harness had a 6-inch dildo that curved inwards, and a stubby black 5-inch butt plug for the wearer’s pleasure. Paige pulled it up her legs, trembling with anticipation, she angled the dildo, and ohhhh that felt so good, as she felt it slide easily into her churning heat. She squatted, pulling hard on the back, mmmm, oh yes, the butt plug breached her ass, and she felt it slide home.

Paige ordered her, ”Hands and knees, Tiff, grab your cheeks and spread ’em.”

She did so, feeling the sheer pleasure as Paige’s tongue slid over the rim of her ass, licking and slobbering, the point of her tongue pushing against the tight rosette. Tiffany knew what was next, as she felt a jeweled butt plug nudge against her, and start to enter. Ohhh yeah, she could feel her asshole stretch, Tiffany growled, “God, it feels incredible!” as she felt the flare slip in, then the rush of the stem sliding in, and it was buried to the base, her ass locking around the stem.

Paige smiled, Tiffy was going to get the good fucking that she was eager for.

“Doggy style, or face-to-face Tiff?”

“Face to face, fuck me like that.”

Tiffany quickly rolled onto her back, legs and arms spread wide. Paige quickly mounted up, she quickly nudged the head of her dildo against Tiff’s dripping heat and drove in with a fierce thrust.

Tiffany let out a loud squeal as she was impaled, she felt herself being stuffed full to the brim. She let out a loud cry of pleasure as the dildo was buried to the hilt in her wide-stretched snatch. The sensation of being spread open made her lust burn hotter. Tiffany felt the dildo and the butt plug rub against each other through the membrane separating them, holy fuck that felt so damn good.

“Ooohhh, God… Oh, my God!!” Tiffany moaned as Paige grabbed her hips. Just like Maryann had done back when, holding her in place, when she had rammed Tiffy’s 18-year-old cunt. She looked up and zonguldak escort saw Paige’s boobs jiggling as she pumped back and forth, oh yeah, just like Maryann’s full-tanned boobs had swayed as she really laid the dildo to her those times. Paige began to fuck her rapidly. Tiffany was feeling rushes of hot sizzles through her body, the driving power of the dildo slicing through her pink heat, rubbing against her butt plug was so erotic.

Paige was enjoying the same things, every flex of her buttocks made her asshole squeeze around her butt plug, driving it against her dildo buried in her dripping pink hole. The rubbing of her dildo and butt plug against each other as she power-shafted her lust-crazed teacher was amazing.

Tiffany was in another world, the feeling of her dildo fuck rubbing against the flare of her butt plug was beyond compare. Holy fuck, she’d never felt anything so totally erotic, the Woodhaven girls had really opened her eyes, god it felt amazing. Her eyes were wide, staring up at Paige, as her student gave her a fantastic dildo fuck. The sensations were nothing short of spectacular, the rampaging strap-on plunging wetly between her open thighs, butt plug jammed up her ass, as Paige power fucked Tiff’s needy cunt.

Tiffany was eager for each sizzling plunge, and could feel the sensations gathering like a storm about to blow. Paige’s loud cries of pleasure pushed her, oh fuck, she was reaching her peak, damn, oh fuck, she was gonna explode.

Tiffany cried out, “Gonna cum, gonna cum so hard, FFUUCCCKKK!”

Orgasm grabbed her as her overheated fuck hole started to ripple and spasm, her buttocks beginning to contract convulsively, squeezing hard at her butt plug, adding to the explosion between her thighs. She stared at Paige’s body, the redheaded student looked even hotter, her red hair waving like a flag, face contorted with her impending explosion of pleasure.

The arousing sight shoved Tiffany into a second orgasm, then a third, dimly, she heard Paige’s shriek of orgasm join in, her body shaking, the room was filled with cries of orgasmic pleasure as teacher and student rode the crest of a very enjoyable Friday night.

After a while, they held each other close, Tiffany saw Paige’s face as she gently pulled her head forward, and she parted her lips in anticipation. She saw Paige lick her lips, the press of soft, warm, wet lips against hers.

Tiffany moaned, deep in her throat, and they descended into a vortex of tongue-filled swirls of passion, each of them kissing back with as much ardor as they could. Tiffany felt Paige’s hand cup her sex, and she quickly slid her hand down, caressing Paige’s mound, fingers began to move, as they stroked each other. They rolled over into a 69, hungry to taste each other’s creamy wetness.

As they lapped at each other, they toyed with each other’s bunghole, fingers wet with juices, stroking and pushing in, gently finger fucking each other’s sensitive little buttholes.

Mmmmm, Paige knew how to lick, Tiffany started to gasp as her tongue teased at her straining clit, Tiffany quickly copied that, Paige’s stiff eager clit was waiting for her tongue, and they licked each other furiously.

Paige stopped for just a second, grunting “Let’s cum baby, let’s cum together!” before plastering her mouth back on Tiff’s orgasm trigger.

Tiffany felt the wave, her hips started to buck and thrust, she let out a wordless cry of pleasure into Paige’s soupy wetness, and she heard Paige’s muffled cries of pleasure as she went over, bodies shaking and writhing together in orgasmic ecstasy.

Tiffany felt a wave of tiredness sweep over her, now that her fuck lust had been burned off, she was ready to sleep. She spooned Paige, enjoying the purr of pleasure as Paige gently wiggled herself back against Tiffany’s body.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

We woke on our third day in Hawaii excited for our hike up the Diamond head trail. a challenging climb, on the Oahu hiking trail, to reach the 760-foot summit. There are some steep sections including narrow stairs, the hike is a glimpse into the geological and military history of Diamond Head. A concrete walkway built to reduce erosion shifts to a natural tuff surface about 0.2 mile up the trail with many switchbacks traversing the steep slope of the crater interior. The ascent continues up steep stairs and through a lighted 225-foot tunnel to enter the Fire Control Station completed in 1911. The Diamond Head trail itself was originally built in 1908 by the US Army, and used for many decades as part of the Fort Rugur military base. Artillery cannons, cement bunkers and an observation deck were built on the summit of the Diamond Head Crater. Today Diamond Head has been turned into a state national park.

This broad, saucer-shaped crater was formed about 300,000 years ago during a single, explosive eruption that sent ash and fine particles in the air. As these materials settled, they cemented together into a rock called tuff, creating the crater, and which is visible from the trail in the park. Most of the vegetation and birds were introduced in the late 1800s to early ordu escort 1900s.

Annette and I began our hike up the Diamond Head trail on the west side of the crater, we ascended slowly up a sidewalk path, holding hands, witched turned into a switchback rock pathway with allot of loose rocks. At the first lookout, we took a moment to catch our breath and enjoy some beautiful ocean views.

The next section of our Diamond Head hike involved narrow long stairs, lots of stairs! Watching Annette’s tight little ass in her brown hiking shorts has I climbed the stairs behind her. This climb up the stairs lead us to a lit tunnel that we needed to pass through.

Alone inside the 225 foot tunnel we stopped again kissing sweetly for a few minutes before preceding on thru the tunnel. As we exited the tunnel, we saw a double headed painted arrow on the wall pointing two ways to the top. Turn left and it’s a long path with a series of stairs leading to the top platform, turn right and it’s a steep straight shot up.

The steps lead us straight up to an old military bunker room with a spiral staircase leading up to the top. That’s right, more stairs, The spiral staircase added another layer of mystery, sense of adventure to this amazing Oahu osmaniye escort hike. An amazing view of the Diamond Head Crater, and the coastline leading down to the Koko Crater.

The gorgeous 360-degree views from the viewing deck was breathtaking and not just because we were out of breath from climbing all those stairs, but because of the panoramic views of Waikiki to Waianae, the vast Pacific Ocean seemed never ending, the Ko’olau Mountains, the eastern view reaching out to the Koko Head Crater.

In that beautiful place I took Annette too, sharing a tender moment, I asked her the question I brought her to Hawaii for and without hesitation she said yes. Embracing in endless love on top or the world of course consummation would have to wait till after the long hike back down.

Finally back at our hotel room, her naked body glistening with her sweet sweat, we climbed into the shower together. Soaping and washing our tight little bodies, Annette dropped to her knees, the hot water tingling my back. I starred down at her on her knees, her sweet butterfly tattoo, het wet blonde hair, she is gorgeous.

Her long tongue exploring my wet cunt, pleasure encompassing me, the sights and views of a spectacular day with the woman I sinop escort would soon marry. Annette giving me the gift of another shattering orgasm, my knees weak, screaming with sounds of delight.

Dressed in white sundresses, walking barefoot, hand in hand, through the sanding beach. Approaching the minister standing under a white canopy, sunsetting into the ocean, flowered lays around our necks. Reaching the alter we joined hands staring in each others eyes. The crowd there chanting “Oli Aloha,” a chant meant to prepare the space for blessings and to welcome the happy couple and their guests.

The minister said these words, “This is the sight for which you have longed. Now that you have come, Love has come with the two of you. There was a seeking of a loved one, now she is found a mate is found. Someone with whom to share the joys and sorrows and the warmth of your love. Love has made a plea that you are to become united here in Hawaii. Hawaii is a perch, a perch in the Heavens. You two are now to become one for the day is here at last: You are to be wed.”

I gave my vows to Annette “`A`ohe loa i ka hana a ke aloha, Ua ola loko i ke aloha. He kehau ho`oma`ema`e keAloha Aku No, Aloha Mai No” (Distance is ignored by love, Love is like a cleansing dew, I give my love to you, you give your love to me.)

slipping a white gold wedding ring on her finger.

Tears in Annette’s eyes, kissing my beautiful bride, my hands on her soft face. Running into the ocean holding hands, pulling off our white sundresses, making sweet love, wife and wife.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

If you are under 18 years of age, kindly leave and do not read any further. All individuals in my tales, both real and fictitious, are themselves, over the age of 18 years old.

* * *

This chapter is a continuation of Asian cougar, Dahlia’s, desire to meet and be used by her daughter Violet’s, older male friend. To fully understand comments made and the story to date, I kindly suggest you read The Deflowering Of Violet series and chapter one of this series.

A number of weeks have passed since Dahlia arranged to meet me and we played in the forest of a well known city park. I took part of her anal cherry that afternoon. This story chronicles the next time we got together and an experience I arranged for her that I thought she might enjoy. My goal was to help her find her inner slut and to satisfy the cravings and needs that she certainly has. She wanted so bad, to be free to fuck guiltlessly and these are the stories of how I tried to help her. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.

From the diaries of Dr. St. John Smythe

* * *

It was exactly 3 weeks since the day that I first met Dahlia. Since that day we had talked on the phone and texted with each other as I got to know her better. Many things were changing for her and one was learning how to take photos and videos of herself to share with me and most likely, others. She was quite lovely to look at as she tried her best to a provocative slut. The one thing, however, that I wanted to change in her appearance was the unkempt pubic bush she had.

“Okay… tomorrow at 11. I’ll see you then,” I said as I hung up the phone.

We were going for lunch and then, I had a treat planned for Dahlia. The last time we met, she had made the plan. Tomorrow, I was driving and would have to wait and see how the afternoon unfolded.

* * *

She had given me directions to get to her home and as I drove through the winding streets of the neighbourhood, I have to say just how impressed I was. Perhaps that makes me sound shallow, but despite the fact that I do not live like that myself, I was as curious as the next person to see how people with money actually did live. My lifestyle affords me that opportunity, perhaps, a little more than most. A lot of people with money, seem to have alternative tastes in a few other things too.

These weren’t homes I was driving past, but mansions… every one of them, and they sat on huge lots of land with urban forests–literally and a few even had hills and streams on their properties. I knew of the area, but since I didn’t live in this city, this was my first time to actually be in there! Don’t even ask, ‘how much?’… you and I together, couldn’t afford even one of their garages.

The address I was looking for was announced by large, black numbers on the face of one of the stone columns that marked either side of the entry way. The tree-lined drive up to the house curved twice before arriving at the stately looking portico. Two carved statues of towering Greek Goddesses, Aphrodite and Athena perhaps, stood on either sides of the double black doors, along with urns of flowers and a large ornate fountain in a garden on the opposite side of the drive. I was impressed, if not by the wealth itself, at least by the show of good taste. It was beautiful!

* * *

Dahlia opened the doors before I was even out of the car. Throwing herself in my arms, she gave me a passionate kiss.

“Right on time!” she said playfully.

She was looking great in a one piece jumpsuit and high heels! The first time we’d met, I had guessed that she was in her early forties or thereabouts, but I had since learned she was actually 51. Her signature, long black hair hung all the way to her waist, splaying out across her shoulders and back. She had sent me a few photos of herself, nude, with her hair draped across her body. Today, I was going to see it in person. Dahlia was one extremely sexy woman!

“And you’re looking great today!” I said in return. “Hungry?”

“Uh huh! But you have to come in for a minute first,” she said taking me by the hand.

If you’ve read my other stories, you would know that in the couple of years that I had been friends with her daughter, Violet, I had never been to where she lived and until a few weeks ago, had never met anyone else in her family. Violet kept this part of her life secret and always met me at the hotel to begin our outings.

I followed Dahlia into the foyer and was immediately struck by the grandeur of their home! Without turning this into an AD Home Tour, let me just paint a tiny picture for you. The foyer was circular with a 360 degree band of stained glass windows high up the walls, letting in dappled light. The glass was a crazy pattern of chaotic colour, like something you would see if you stared into a giant kaleidoscope! The ceiling of the entryway was easily 25 feet above our heads and was painted a dark blue colour. Stars and figures of the zodiac captivated my attention and as its dome-shape blended into the karaman escort band of glass and then the cream-coloured walls, it gave the impression that one was standing in the centre of a bejewelled silo. Ornate, gold mouldings made the entry more palace-like than anyone’s home. There were 3 doorways leading into the house from here and all were arched with pillars on either side. Tall palms in huge, ornate pots reached high up the walls. Paintings of Oriental figures hung upon the circular walls and the small, jewel-like tiles on the floor, created an outrageous mosaic of colour and design that literally sparkled beneath my feet!

I know, I could go on and on, but you want naughty tales, not a home tour, so I’ll stop. Suffice it to say, though… it was completely AMAZING!

“Dahlia…,” I stammered. “Your home… is incredible!”

She took no notice of my compliment and after allowing me to stop and stare for a brief moment, continued to pull me further into her home.

In what I took to be the living room, she pushed me into an overstuffed, leather chair, then stood about six feet in front of me.

“Comfy?” she asked.

“I am,” I replied.

And with that, she began to sway and dance. I had no idea what she was doing, but I wasn’t going to do anything except sit there and enjoy the little show.

Slowly, she started to pull the zipper of her outfit down while looking me directly in the eyes and smiling. Her hips swayed and gyrated in exaggerated circles. She had lowered the zipper almost down to her breasts when she took her hands and started running them all over herself. She closed her eyes and slowly tilted her head back and swished her mane of hair slowly in circles too. As I watched, I could not help but think how nice this would be, if I had something spirited to sip. No music, in fact, no sound whatsoever. The house was silent except for the sounds of Dahlia’s fingers running across her body.

If there had been a snake charmer blowing a melodious tune on a wooden pipe, it could not have been more exotic to sit and watch. Again, she slowly pulled the zip inch by inch and slowly Dahlia’s lovely breasts came more and more into view. In actual fact, though, it was not her breasts at all, but rather a very exotic looking brassiere.

When the zipper was as low as it could go, my tantalizing hostess slowly and gracefully pulled it from first one, then the other shoulder. Hips swaying, hair trailing, she continued to slowly remove each arm from its respective sleeve. Again she ran the tips of her fingers across the points of her brassiere and down over the ample cups onto the smooth skin of her taut tummy.

Making eye contact with me one more time, I watched as those delicate fingers slipped into the waistband of her jumpsuit and teased it over her curves. Her panties matched her brassiere as my overly analytical mind made note of the high quality of each. Just once, I wished, that I could stop doing things like that…

Slipping out of her heels one at a time, the jumpsuit continued to slide down her shapely legs until it landed in a rumpled wreath at her feet.

“You see?” She began.

“See what?” I responded to her open question.

“You see… I intend to be completely naked under my jumpsuit today… just for you,” was her answer.

“I see…,” I answered with a smile.

And her not knowing what our day was to entail… she could not have made a better decision.

* * *

It was obvious that we had similar tastes in where we liked to dine, because for the second time we found ourselves seated overlooking the sights of the south side of the city. Again, we were perched on top of a hill that overlooked the great expanse of trees and the roof tops of the neighbourhoods beyond. We were on a patio, under a large umbrella that shaded us from the noon day sun. Not as private as our first outing together, we had the company of many others enjoying their lunch at tables close to ours. It would be much more complicated for Dahlia to misbehave here.

We conversed in hushed tones, like two spies planning the theft of state secrets. In fact, though, it was mostly Dahlia inquiring about the little ‘beauty treatment’ she was booked for later, after our lunch.

“Now St. John,” she began with one eyebrow raised slightly above the other. “You promise me that this person who is going to give me a little trim, knows that I still want to have a little… of my womanhood left when she is done!”

If you recall, I had made mention of Dahlia’s ‘bush’ on our last outing in the woods. I had told her that I would like to take her to a friend of mine, who specializes in such services for both ladies and gentlemen.

“Dahlia, my little slut,” I whispered as I leaned closer. “You are going to have to do a better job of trusting me then that.”

She sat there looking at me. Her breathing betrayed her angst at that moment, and the fact that we were surrounded by more than a dozen listening ears.

“I kars escort am just saying… I’m just saying that I don’t want to be as bald down there as a… child!”

I smiled and chuckled at the drama she was engaging in.

“Darling… no one is going to do that to you,” I reassured her, but then continued to chuckle under my breath. ‘But they may, perhaps, have other things in mind.’ I kept that thought to myself.

Niki, the esthetician, was a friend of mine from a few years back. She was a bubbly personality who had been born about 20 years too late, in her estimation. She was a proverbial flower child, who, I know for a fact, strolled naked in the parks and suntanned au naturel, whenever she thought she could get away with it. Niki also practised some other very special talents as well. Niki is the freest spirit I know… and that’s saying something!

What I didn’t tell Dahlia, but I will share with you, was that my good, ‘bed friend’, Shirley Mickleson, aka Super Realtor, had shared a little secret about Dahlia, with me… People do like to gossip and Shirley, surely is… part of ‘the people’! Apparently… Dahlia, like daughter Violet, has a taste for, shall I say… clams. Dear Dahlia has only dabbled, but under the right circumstances, could be led quite a long ways astray. Just how far though? Who can say.

I’ve digressed, though, for the sake of the story… Let me get back to my tale.

* * *

We’d had a nice lunch, but it was obvious that Dahlia had things on her mind. Call it a woman’s intuition or whatever you like, but she was distracted and not nearly as playful as on our first outing. The striptease was miles behind her now, as was lunch… the time had come and there was no avoiding it.

I pulled into the parking stall beside the studio where Niki ran her business. It was a cute little place and first impressions being what they are… it looked clean and crisp. Inside was even more impressive and as we stood in the small waiting room, Dahlia seemed to noticeably relax. The smell of nag champa hung heavy in the air and sitar music played quietly from speakers in the ceiling. The decor was right out of a San Francisco hippy house… right down to a few psychedelic black light posters framed on the walls. I chuckled to myself and watched Society Asian collide with Haight-Ashbury. The only thing missing was Timothy Leary and Ken Kesey’s bus parked out back.

There was no sign of Niki when we arrived and no one else in the waiting room. Dahlia took a seat and picked up the top book that was sitting on a stack on a side table.

“The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test,” she read aloud. “That’s an odd title…”

She didn’t get a chance to finish as Niki and another woman came walking through the beaded curtain that separated the waiting room from her treatment salons.

“Thanks again, love,” the woman was saying to Niki as she headed towards the door. Apparently Dahlia and I were invisible, since we didn’t even rate a smile.

It hadn’t registered with Niki either, that she had another client sitting and waiting for her, but as the door closed behind the frost queen, Niki came alive and clicked back into the here and now.

“St. John!” she squealed and ran over and put me in a formidable bear hug. “How are you?”

She planted a big kiss right on my lips. I could smell something distinctive on her breath.

I quickly said my hellos and then brought it to her attention that I had brought her 2 o’clock appointment with me.

“Oh, that’s right! I saw it in the book earlier!” she said, just a little spacey. “Where is she?”

Dahlia stood up and was immediately on Niki’s radar. Who knew all one had to do was sit in a chair to become invisible in this miniature time capsule of the 1960s.

“So you’re Dahlia!?” Niki greeted her… half asking, half exclaiming.

Dahlia looked at her and then at me. Her face said it all. In Dahlia’s eyes, it appeared Niki had 2 heads and a pointed tail. The blood had all drained from poor Dahlia’s face. It probably didn’t help that Niki was completely nude from the waist up.

I probably should have warned Dahlia about just what a free spirit Niki actually was, but she was so concerned about her pussy being turned into a cue ball, that it just kind of slipped my mind. Besides, it was a good lesson for Dahlia to learn… to each, their own. In this world, one encounters far too much of ‘my kink’s okay, but yours is weird’. Chock it up to, one more experience–and a good one at that.

I probably should tell you too, since you can’t see Niki, that she has a knockout set of tits on her. I shall spare you the long description by directing you to look up: Miss December 1968. Add 6 inches to her height and about 30 lbs to her figure and you have Niki… rocket tits and all!

I had not used NLP or anchoring with Dahlia, as I have been known to employee with some of my projects, so she was dealing with things as they unfolded before her. kıbrıs escort Raw data, harsh reality, one might say, but I knew that Niki would win her over quickly and before we left this little hippy nirvana, she’d be eating right out of Niki’s hand… or something else.

I smiled and winked at Dahlia as Niki took her by the hand and led her towards that beaded curtain. Dahlia looked like a child being led away by the dentist for the first time, but I knew that in less than an hour from now, I would have a nearly bald, delicious peach to enjoy and Dahlia would… well, let’s just wait and see how things go.

* * *

I had made a good start on old (he was 38 when it was published) Tom Wolfe’s book and was kind of enjoying the sitar music and the incense. It was too bright in the waiting room to be able to really enjoy the psychedelic posters, but I’d seen them before in the dark and quite enjoyed them then… and a few other things that were also here in the dark that night.

I was having quite a relaxing time.

As if right on queue, no sooner had the above thought drifted across my sleepy mind when…

“OOOooooooh! Uuuuuuuuugh! OOOoooooooh!” came shrieking from behind the beaded curtain.

“Ooooh Gaaaaaaud! Oooooh My Fuuuuucking Gaaaaud! Oh! OOOOOH FUCK! FUUUUUUUCK! I’MMMMMMM CUUUUUUMING! I’MMMMMMM CUUUUUUMING!!”

There was no mistaking Dahlia’s cries, but she sounded like she was having the most unholiest of bowel movements that one could imagine! Every word and sound being drawn out as if she were trying her best to push raw potatoes through the mesh of a fine wire sieve. ‘Ha!’ I laughed to myself. I think Niki had actually gotten Dahlia to relax a bit and enjoy her special services.

I went back and arrived at the door just in time to see Niki standing up from between Naked Dahlia’s thighs. Dahlia looked like she’d passed out and Niki stood smiling at me with a glace all over her face, that could have only been one thing…

“How’d it go?” I asked Niki smiling.

“Check it out for yourself,” she said stepping aside and gesturing towards Dahlia’s nearly naked little quim.

I stepped forward and admired Niki’s talents. Dahlia’s pubic hair had been so thick, I hadn’t realized that she actually had a gorgeous, plump, little ‘camel toe’ of a cunt.

“Beautiful work!” I complimented Niki.

She came and put her arms around my neck and rubbed her gorgeous, hippy chick body up against me. Planting another kiss right on my lips and snaking her tongue all the way into my mouth… adding to the scent of the ice queen’s cunt, I could now smell Dahlia’s pussy. I kissed her one more time then stepped back.

“Was I right?” I asked.

“I’d say you were right,” she said with a big smile. “But, it’s going to need a little more investigation. Can you come back next week?”

I looked at Dahlia laying on the massage table, her feet still resting in the stirrups and her pussy just as smooth as a cue ball… except for a sexy little strip of hair running up about an inch from the hood of her clit.

“What time?” I asked.

* * *

A number of times during the year my wife, Andromeda… Andi, accompanies me to the city for a little fun and a little shopping. I work and Andi shops. It also gives her a chance to meet up with some of our friends and, you know… have a good time.

I am the one who usually cultivates our west coast friendships, then Andi comes and slides right into the fun. Once in awhile, she does her own cultivating and I just watch, relegated to the sidelines. Although I enjoy fucking with Shirley Mickleson, she is actually Andi’s good friend. I think you know what that means. It was through Shirley, that Andi met Judith and then it was through Andi, that I met Judith. I know, it’s complicated, but Judith is next up in this little story.

I have never had the pleasure of being intimate with Judith and can’t say that I know of any other guy who has…, but that does not mean that Judith is not part of my little circle. She always comes to my parties and on occasion she will do me a favour and help with some project I am currently involved in and that is exactly what she was doing for me on this particular afternoon.

* * *

I had collected Dahlia from the arms of Niki and took her for an afternoon drink and a bit of sushi. She had a nice glow about her, that told me everything I needed to know about her first waxing experience and the attention she’d received from Niki.

“So? What do you think of your new look?” I asked with a big smile on my face.

“I feel cold,” she replied.

“Cold?” I laughed. “You were cold in Niki’s studio?”

“I am cold because you sheared me like a spring sheep!”

I burst out laughing as she feigned being upset.

“Have you looked at yourself?”

“No! But I have felt myself and an egg has more hair on it!”

I roared with laughter.

“You look incredible! What are you talking about?” I said, still laughing.

“I said… I did not want to be completely shaven done there!”

“You’re not, my love. You have a very sexy little patch of black pubes just above your clit!”

“I do?”

Dahlia stood up from the table and walked briskly towards the ladies room. When she returned, she had a big smile on her face.

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This piece was cowritten with thedevilisadyke

Warnings: religious blasphemy, Daddy kink, light bondage, heavy spanking, wax play, blow job, fingering, strap-on sex, language like slut and whore; at one point there is the language of “abusing [one]self” in referencing to masturbating

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

You begin your confession with your head hung low, hands in your lap.

“It has been 40 days since my last confession.”

You pause, hesitant to continue. The glow of the candlelight shines through the screen of the confession booth. I hear your slow breathing, and the distant ticking of a clock.

“You may begin,” I prompt.

You take a shaky breath.

“My sins…” you start. “Include… Um. They include… inappropriate thoughts, Father.”

A smirk tugs at my lips.

“Inappropriate thoughts of what nature?”

“They’re, um… They’re…” You clear your throat. Heat grips you. You run your hands up and down your thighs. I wait patiently. “They’re… sexual, Sir.”

“Hmm,” I say thoughtfully. “Tell me more about these sinful thoughts. Where are they coming from?”

“What?” you croak. You weren’t expecting me to ask this.

“Tell me more about your sinful desires, boy.”

“I don’t… Um. I don’t know where they’re… coming from. I, um, I’ve been thinking about… Women. Masculine women… Butches with arrogant smirks and attitudes… I’ve been thinking about them talking dirty to me…”

“That’s right,” I say. “Good boy. Tell me more.”

You swallow. “I’ve been thinking about them… telling me… to touch myself…”

I wait for you to go on, but you don’t.

“How?” I ask.

“They, um.” You pause and clear your throat. “They… tell me to… take my clothes off…” I hear the small rustle of your shirt as you start to unbutton it.

“Go on,” I encourage, wanting you to keep talking and keep undressing.

Your shirt is open. You start in on your pants, and I hear the button and zipper.

“They tell me to… touch my body…”

I gaze through the thin screen between our booths, catching a glimpse of you reaching up to play with your chest.

“And… play with my nipples.”

Your sharp intake of breath as you tweak your nipples puts my body on edge. I ache to touch you, to see you fully.

“And they tell me… to tell them… how good it feels.”

“How good does it feel?” I hold back a growl.

“It feels so good, Father…”

I watch your hands move through the lattice pattern of the screen and bite my tongue.

“And is that all, boy?” I prompt, eyeing the suspenders slipped off your shoulders, wondering what kind of sound they’d make on the cold stone tile of the sacristy.

What kinds of sounds you’d make. What the acoustics of high ceilings and empty pews might do to the low whimpers you’re trying so desperately to stifle.

But your confession isn’t over yet, and we both know it.

“No, Father,” you admit, head dropping a little. “I, uh, I… they…”

“Confess,” I snap, raising my voice just a little, and it’s enough.

“Y-Yes, Father,” you rush to say. “They tell me to rub myself through my boxers…”

You gulp. I watch with bated breath as your hands slowly travel down your chest to your underwear, and you begin to stroke yourself.

I grit my teeth and allow myself the small indulgence of a hand on my cock through my cassock. Your hips start to move, slowly, subtly, and the screen obscures your face just enough that I can’t tell if you’re blushing.

I’d bet on it, but gambling isn’t my vice.

“They, uh,” you struggle to say. “They tell me to keep going…” You give into the sensations, gasping. “They watch me, um, they watch me… touching myself… and they tell me how pathetic I look.”

I catch a glimpse of your tongue darting out to lick your delicious lips. I imagine what they might taste like… your mint gum or maybe the wine of the sacrament. I want to taste the blood of Christ on you.

“Matthew 5:28 tells us,” I inform you, desire burning the back of my throat as you shudder and twitch, “that lustful thoughts are as lustful deeds in the eyes of God.”

My clit grows hard against the base of my cock, and I begin stroking myself, lazily, as I watch you through the screen.

“When you fantasize then, boy – when you make yourself a slut for these butches you conjure in the sinful silence of your own skull, what difference is there between that and sinning in the flesh?” I wait a moment, not expecting a response, and answer myself: “Nothing. You may as well be whoring yourself out on the altar of this Church, in the eyes of the Lord. Continue.”

“Uh,” you moan. The idea of being whored out on the altar sets your body on fire. You blush and rub yourself harder. “They, uh… Uh… They tell me to reach into my boxers and find out how wet I am.”

“And – when they ask you this – how wet are you, boy?” I ask, keeping my voice steady, watching your hands moving greedily. “I have to know exactly the caliber of degenerate I’m dealing with. kırşehir escort You’re already racking up quite the penance.”

“I’m, um.” You try to keep your voice steady, but it trembles. “I’m so wet, Daddy– Father. Father.”

I sigh, eyeing the cane propped in the corner of the confessor’s booth, and suddenly the cassock is hot, the booth’s hot, I’m hot, knowing what your punishment will be before your reconciliation.

But patience is a virtue. Anyway, you’re not done yet, and it’s no good to do an incomplete confession. “Of course you are. And when you feel how wet you are, boy, do these butches mock you for it, for being a filthy slut? Or do they just tell you to keep abusing yourself for their amusement?”

I suspect I know the answer, but I want to hear you say it. That’s the whole point of this, of watching you stutter out your sins and wet your fingers in this myrrh-reeking booth.

“B-both, Father. They make me fuck myself with my fingers and call me a dirty slut for it, and it makes me more wet when they call me a slut, and I don’t know what to do, Father, because it just — feels — so — good…”

I watch your hips jerk on your fingers with your pants and boxers halfway down your thighs through the lattice screen. Heat grips my throat. I stifle a groan, gaze fixed on your eager fingers and your spasming hips, and snarl through gritted teeth, “Appalling. ‘Repent and sin no more’ isn’t clear enough for you, is it, boy? Of course not. But be ye sure of this: the wicked will not go unpunished.”

Proverbs. Or maybe Revelation. I can’t recall, suddenly, not now, while your face contorts and your voice drops deeper with every new article of your confession.

The only revelation I see here, though, is the way you’re shuddering under the weight of the confession, under your own touch, under my latticed gaze.

“And are these your sins, harlot? Or is it worse than you’ve told me? Have you actually cum from this self-degradation, this debauchery?”

“Oh, God, Father… Oh fuck,” you moan around your fingers, rubbing your clit now with your other hand. “They tell me to cum and I obey, I obey like a good little toy…”

I can hear in the strain of your voice that you’re close.

I reluctantly stop stroking my cock to the sight of your sacrament and retrieve my cane from the corner of the booth as quietly as I can. “How disappointing,” I tell you, my hand on the door of the confessor’s booth, “that you can’t even resist that temptation. Tell me, boy, are you sorry? Are you contrite?” I practically spit the word, watching your face.

Remorse is required for absolution. You sure don’t sound sorry, not now, with the strain in your voice obvious to God and everyone.

But that can be fixed.

I stifle a grunt as I rise from my chair, and use the noise of your response to cover the door of the confessor’s booth opening.

“No, Father… Maybe I need to be taught a lesson,” you say in that eager tone. I’m going to make you regret it.

What they don’t tell you about confessionals is they very rarely lock. Something about people using them for sin. I certainly can’t imagine where the Church got that idea.

I nudge the door of the penitent’s booth open with my cane, and the candlelight filters in on you, looking disheveled and desperate and a certain kind of holy. The way your body is angled, towards the screen in the adjoining wall, gives me a delicious view of your ass, and I’m already calculating the angles I’ll need to strike to bruise a makeshift cross into your soft flesh. “Filthy fucking harlot,” I curse, “masturbating in the confessional booth. I’m inclined to believe you’re right, boy. The wicked go not unpunished.”

“Oh my God,” you whimper. “Oh fuck.” Your hips continue to jerk on your fingers and I watch you fall apart with a cry.

I watch in steely silence as you gasp through the final waves of your orgasm. And I keep that silence as I haul you up by the back of your collar. As I drag you, slowly, step by step, up the center aisle of the church. (Stained glass saints look on, silent voyeurs.) As I pull you the last few steps up to the altar and push you roughly down onto the cold oak, hands over your head, ass on full display for me.

The candles reflecting off the stained glass throw patterns onto your bare skin, bristling with gooseflesh against the chill of the church proper.

“The first act of your penance,” I tell you through gritted teeth. “Galatians 6:7. Be not deceived – God is not mocked. And you mock God – ” I tap my cane on the ground between your legs for emphasis – “by defiling yourself in this Church.”

I shift my weight back onto my cane and lean over you, pressing you into the altar by the back of the neck with my hand.

“So you’ll count these strikes, and you’ll thank me for them. Understood?”

“Yes, Father,” you swallow. A fire lights inside you at my words. Your pants and underwear are still halfway down your thighs, and your ass is bare to me.

I reach back into the pulpit, just a few steps away malatya escort from the altar. A King James, unabridged, lies in the little cabinet under the stand. A forgotten rosary lies next to it, onyx beads and silver.

I loop the rosary around your wrists and pull it through itself. “Since you clearly can’t be trusted to keep your hands off yourself,” I mutter, but really, I want to watch you struggle to keep your wrists still against the weak bondage. I’m sure you can probably figure breaking a holy object is additional penance.

I wait a moment, watching your back rise and fall with your nervous breath.

The first strike hits you squarely where your thigh meets the curve of your ass.

“Oh!” you cry out. You pant.

“Count. Them,” I growl.

“Yes, Sir. Uh… One, Father.”

“Thank. Me. For. It,” I spit, lining up a second strike on your other ass cheek. You open your mouth to respond, and I loose it before you can.

“Oh, fuck,” you swear. “Two, thank you Father,” you quickly squeak.

“That’s better,” I say with a cruel smile.

The dim thwack of my cane against your ass (“three. Thank you Father. Four, thank you Father…”) sounds nice enough, and the marks are pretty, but my mind keeps drifting back to the Bible lying in wait.

So after a few more strokes, as your voice lowers and your hands tense with the effort to stay still, I swap to the Bible instead.

The dull, hard thuds hit your waiting ass and make you moan, “Oh…”

“Do you need to be reminded, boy?” I say threateningly.

“Eight, thank you, Father,” you pant.

“That’s a good boy,” I growl. “Take your punishment. Take your punishment in front of me and the eyes of the Lord. Revelation 3:19 – As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten: be zealous therefore, and repent.”

I emphasize the scripture with another thudding blow to your ass, absolutely positive the rafters have never heard a better hymn than the cry you give. If my cock were flesh it’d twitch, but your punishment is far from over, so I bring myself back to the sound of your count.

“Nine. Thank you, Father.”

I build up a steady rhythm for a brief moment, reveling in the growing pink glow of your ass and the way your voice hoarsens with each smack, just a little – “ten. Thank you, Father. Eleven, thank you, Father… Twelve – “

But I’ve resisted the urge to smack your ass barehanded long enough. I’m only human, after all, and before you can thank me for the twelfth, I toss the Bible back onto the lectern and go for a thirteenth. Your skin is so warm under my hand.

“Oh!” you cry out, not expecting my touch. “Oh… Thirteen. Thank you, Father…”

The candles glow and flicker around us. You’re a beautiful sight, a holy sight, lying prostrate for me at the altar. I ache to touch you in other ways, to fulfill your desires in sinful blasphemy, to sink my fingers into your waiting, aching cunt and find out how wet this spanking has made you.

You ache for it, too.

Instead, I hit you again.

You moan, loud and long, before you manage “Fourteen – thank you, Father.” The glow of your ass is starting to rival the candlelight, and something that has to be divine speaks to me in that moment, because my body surges with fire and want: the image of your ass drizzled in candlewax, red and redder, calls to me.

Most prophecies are self-fulfilling. They don’t teach you that in any catechism class. Other than mine, maybe.

I allow you a reprieve, massaging your hot ass for a few seconds. The rosary is still intact around your wrists, and I lean over you a moment, cock under my cassock pressed against your bare ass. “Good boy. Wait.”

I take my time retrieving the votive candle from the wall of them on the eastern side of the church, admiring the view of you bent over and stretched out on the altar there and back.

“Father, what — ” you croak, looking over your shoulder, straining to see what I’m planning.

“You are to take your punishment without question or protest, boy,” I command. “The Lord knoweth how to deliver the godly out of temptation -” Numbers 31:23 has surely never tasted so good to snarl – “so be a good, godly little whore for me. Think on your sin and repent.”

I wait a few breaths, savoring your shifting and your held breath.

The curve of your left asscheek has a tiny sliver of blue and green light reflected onto it from the stained glass windows. I spill the first bit of wax there – three quick drops.

“Ah!” you cry out, straining to keep your hands together in their delicate bondage.

“F-father… Please…”

“Please, what, boy?” I demand, moving to your other cheek and drizzling a thin line of wax down the curve of you.

“Please, Father… It, um,” you pause, the wax beginning to cool and harden. You moan. “Mmm, it, um, it hurts.”

“Everything that may abide the fire, ye shall make it go through the fire,” I tell you, sternly, holding the votive still a moment, “and it shall be clean. Are you clean, boy? Do you think you’ve earned absolution?”

“Mmm,” niğde escort you whine, speechless. You know the answer is no, but you don’t want to admit it. “Please Father… I repent… I repent from my sins.”

“Again,” I order, and splash another stripe of wax onto your ass, admiring the way it drips down as it cools. No, you’re not clean yet. But you’re close. Or I’m succumbing to my own temptation, wondering how wet the burn of the wax might have made you. I don’t particularly know or care which.

“Yes, Father,” you agree. “I repent. I repent from my sinful desires. Please…”

“Good boy,” I praise you. “Once more.” The last kiss of wax strikes across the other two, making a set of crosses. Appropriate.

I’m at a loss for an edge to remove the wax for a moment, but then the obvious answer hits.

The Bible as the Swiss army knife of kink is another thing they don’t teach you in catechism, but if the cilice fits… I retrieve the KJV from its perch on the lectern to the sweet sounds of your final repentance.

You’re squirming when I return, whimpering. “Please, Father.”

“Please, what?” I ask.

Please fuck me, you want to say. You want to beg. Your cunt is throbbing and aching for it after my torture.

“Please… Take care of me,” you say instead.

Your plea sends a shock of electricity through my spine, my clit, my thighs; I swear I feel it in my cock. I grab a fistful of your short hair, but the tug is gentle – measured. “I’ll take care of you, good boy,” I murmur in your ear, feeling your thighs shift against mine as I press against you. But not quite yet.

I release my grip on your hair and set to my task. The wax slides off quickly and without much effort, now that it’s cooled, and the cold edge of the leather-bound book coaxes it off your skin without much trouble. The Bible is consigned back to its place, and I put you in yours: kneeling, at my feet.

You look up at me, eyes eager. You wait for instruction, like the good, obedient boy I just beat you into being.

More than anything, I want your warm, wet mouth on my cock, sucking me off. It feels heavy between my legs, underneath my cassock.

The strain of your punishment is getting to my knees. I want to enjoy every blessed second of this, so I tug the lecturer’s chair from its place behind the lectern, conscious with every movement of the weight of my cock and its exact distance from your mouth.

I place my cane on the altar, unloop the rosary from your wrists, settle into the chair, and undo the lower buttons of my cassock, revealing my Docs, the leather of my harness, the length of my cock bobbing out in front of your lips.

“The Body of Christ,” I tell you, my body tight and hot with the anticipation of communion.

You smile, your face flushing with heat as you lick your lips and glance between my eyes and my dick. Your breathing is growing faster, and I imagine how deliciously wet your cunt must be right now between your legs, kneeling as if in prayer.

“Bless me, Father,” you say, looking up at me with bold eyes. Your lips wrap around the head of my cock and I could moan from it.

“Good fucking boy,” I oblige, offering you the highest benediction I can bestow.

“That’s my sacred little cocksucker.” My pulse is pounding in my clit with every heartbeat, watching you work me into your mouth.

You moan around me and I clench my hands in fists, trying not to grip your hair and fuck your face, trying to control myself.

It doesn’t last long.

I tell myself I’m only going to put my hand on the back of your neck; only going to give you a single, slow thrust; only going to do that two… or three… hell, maybe just ten more times.

Your spit looks heavenly on my cock, and it makes me absolutely certain your cum will, too. I can’t stifle a hiss at the thought, or a twitch of my hips.

Your mouth is open wide to me and you whimper as I fuck your throat. Your hands grip my thighs, tighter and tighter, and pleasure shoots up my spine.

I stifle a groan and pull you off me. Your mouth is incredible – watching my butch cock move in and out of your throat makes me unspeakably hard – but I’m far too eager to fuck your throbbing cunt to let myself cum now.

“Good boy,” I praise you again, voice low with lust, brushing a thumb over your spit-slick lower lip.

“Thank you, Father,” you reply dutifully. You gaze at my cock, at me, with desire. You’re waiting eagerly for what’s next, waiting for me to take the lead.

I haven’t forgotten your earlier reluctance to ask for what you need, though, and if there’s one thing I intend to exorcise before I’m done with you, it’s that. “If you want absolution, boy, you have to ask for it.” I tug your head back by the hair, forcing you to look me in the eyes. “Beg for this cock in your cunt.”

Your mouth drops open and desire grips your throat. You search for words.

“Please, Father… Please… fuck my cunt with your butch cock.”

I growl and push you to the ground, following you down as quickly as I can. The sight of you beneath me makes me feel feral, and I roughly yank your boxers and pants down further, past your thighs and down to your ankles. When I spread your thighs and see how wet you are, I reflexively cross myself. There’s just nothing else for it.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Torrie stood at the door of my office looking confused as usual. She tried to play the innocent game, but it never worked. She had been called to my office to discuss her behavior and inability to get along with the other girls.

As I walked towards her she smacked her gum and slung her hair to the side. I greeted her by saying “good morning Torrie always a pleasure to see you fired up first thing in the morning” and then glanced back and told my secretary to hold my calls the rest of the morning.

We entered my office and Torrie made herself right at home. My office was on the second floor downtown, so you could see everything, and I left the shades open for people to see in, especially when I had a special visitor and could put on a show.

Torrie was short, she had oversized size dounle d breast, a tiny waist, and her ass stuck straight out. Her skin was darker due to her strong Latino heritage and she has a wild girl look about her. In reality gebze escort Torrie was a bully to girls her own age, but she craved to be dominated and humiliated by older more mature women.

I left Torrie sitting in my office while stepped into my private bathroom, I needed to get my necessaries ready for our meeting. I slipped an eight inch ribbed cock on under my dress and pulled my lace panties up over it. I unbuttoned the top buttons of my dress some top show my cleavage. I had that dominating motherly look about me; not skinny, but not sloppy fat. I aged well compared to some.

As I entered my office again, Torrie had relaxed herself in the chair across from my desk. Her leg was thrown over the arms revealing her girlish cotton panties obviously her mom bought her thinking she was a good girl. I smiled at Torrie and took a seat at my desk.

Torrie asked with smirk “what am I here for now?” I laughed and told her “you know gümüşhane escort damn well you got your ass here so I could fuck your brains out, but we do need to talk about your behavior and you being a bully.”

Torrie made a line of excuses as to why she couldn’t be nice to the other girls. I knew the real problem was Torrie needed to be taken care of more often and I was going to have to make sure of that.

I had some phone calls I needed to make, so I told Torrie to take off her panties and her shirt so I could enjoy looking at her while I worked. She listened and quickly removed her clothes and her big tits were on display along with her glistening pussy.

I first had to call my husband, I dialed him in on FaceTime, he knew Torrie was in my office and knew what I was about to do with her.

We chatted a while, I could see her squirming in her chair uncomfortably while we talked. I had a feather on a izmir escort stick tucked behind my desk, so I grabbed it and reached over the desk to tickle her nipples.

She slouched down in her chair, opened her legs, and gave me access to her clit, so I moved my feather to her clit. Her breathing got heavy, so I wrapped up my phone call to tend to her.

I commanded her to come around my desk and stand in front of me. I pulled my dress up and slid my lace panties down to let my cock free. She looked down and I asked her if she wanted it in her pussy or her ass. She blushed so I told her to face the window with her ass out.

I stood behind her and guided my cock in her pussy slowly, she whispered Mam’ I think he can see us, and I whispered back “he is enjoying the show.”

I fucked her pussy until she orgasmed twice, then I told her to bend over my desk so I could enjoy her ass for while. She loved having her asshole fucked hard, the juice ran down her legs, as she whimpered and whined. I fucked her hard until her knees got weak and she couldnt stand any longer.

I sat down in the chair and pulled her up on my lap, propping her feet on the window with her pussy on display, and opened my bra up to give her a nipple to suck.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32