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Thanks to all my faithful readers for waiting so long for my new story. It was a bit lengthy, so I split it into three chapters. I hope you all love this story. It took me a very long time to write. I would like to thank my editor for his patient editing and his helpful hints. Enjoy.

*

Elise looked at me while I drove. Every time I looked back at her, she just smiled. I parked the car in front of my parents’ house and turned to face her.

“You have been watching me the whole way.” I stared into her cerulean eyes, getting lost in a sea of blue once more.

“I just love to look at you. You are so sexy… and sweet… and cute… and gorgeous… and handsome. How many times have I told you that I love you?” Elise put her hand on my leg, still gazing into my eyes.

“You’ve told me at least five times since yesterday and I will never get tired of hearing it, or saying it to you, either, because I know we both mean it.” I put one hand on hers where she touched my leg and my other behind her neck, to pull her to me for a passionate kiss.

“I love you,” we both said at the same time then kissed again.

We got out of the car and walked hand in hand into the house. The house was quiet, so I led Elise through the house and out the back by the pool. My parents were having drinks. They talked and laughed about my childhood days.

My father is a big man: wide chest, broad shoulders, muscular arms and legs, slightly flabby stomach and of course… tall, dark and handsome as my mother always says. His dark hair is only starting to show a little grey now. His face has the telltale signs of laughter lines next to his brown eyes. He has thin lips and a slightly square jaw line. I got my height from my father.

My mother fits right under his arm. She has a thin build body like me. She is very fit for her age. I got my straight blond hair from my mother. She has colour-changing eyes depending on what mood she is in or what colour she is wearing. Her lips are rich and full with a U-shaped jaw line. She also has laughter lines like my father, indicating that they live a happy life together. Except for my square jaw line and my eye colour, I look a lot more like my mother than my father.

“Please don’t tell me you’re laughing about my childhood sillies again,” I requested as Elise and I walked toward them.

“Oh, the girls are here,” my mother said. She jumped to her feet.

“Hi Mom, this is Elise my girlfriend. Elise, this is my mother, Vanessa.” My Dad stood up and joined us.

“Hi my girl, how are you?” he asked as he swept me off my feet into a loving bear hug.

“Hi Dad, I’m great. This is Elise. This is my Dad, Anthony.” I introduced them to each other.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, my dear.” My parents each gave Elise a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

She froze briefly when my parents hugged her instead of shaking her hand and then leaned into the hug.

“It’s great to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Elise said. She snuggled under my arm and cupped one of my ass cheeks for comfort.

Elise has always been a bit scared and shy when meeting new people. Over the past ten months of our relationship, I had taken over the role of being her rock and protector. To my surprise she didn’t seem at all scared or shy around my parents. She was calm and her usual bubbly self, the same as when she was with me. We sat down and had a drink while my parents and Elise got a little better acquainted.

“Honey, I will be right back.” I kissed her on the lips and went into the house. I stood at the door for a moment and watched her with my parents. They seemed to like her a lot. I headed back to the car to get her bag and the box of toys that I had hidden the day before.

“Shannon, I want to talk to you about something,” my Dad called out to me.

“What do you want to talk about Dad?” I waited for him to catch up to me. He took Elise’s bag from me.

“Well, it’s about Elise’s birthday gift. Your mother and I are sponsoring a scholarship for her. Do you know where she wants to go for further studies?” he asked while we walked toward the pool house.

“That’s very thoughtful of you and Mom. Elise will be very happy. She told me that she wants to study at the college here in town to be close to me. I think it’s TUT, if I’m not mistaken.” I opened the door to the pool house and gasped.

It was furnished with modern furniture but looked cosy and homey. There was a table standing in the kitchen set for two with candles and flowers: Lilac and Dahlias. Next to the table stood an ice bucket with a bottle of white wine in it.

To my right, next to the home theatre system stood a CD of love songs. On the kitchen counter was an envelope, a package and a small box. The envelope I guessed was the scholarship offer from my parents. The package and small box were gifts from me. I bought an engagement ring the last weekend I was here. The package was a book I had made up of all the poems Elise had written for me.

“Dad, this is breathtaking, aksaray escort thank you.” I threw my arms around him and kissed him on the cheek.

“It was nothing, my girl.” He returned my hug.

“Did you really do all this by yourself?” I asked him, looking around the pool house.

“Well, I didn’t get your mother with only my smarts and good looks. I do have good taste too.” He kissed me on the forehead and gave me Elise’s bag.

“Dad, what do you think of Elise? Do you think it’s too early to do this?” I asked in with a serious tone. I knew and trusted that he would tell me the truth of what he thought.

“I think she’s a keeper, marriage material. I can see that she really does love you. If this feels right to you and you are happy, then you should go for it.”

My father released me and left. I headed toward the bedroom to put the bag and box away. There were rose petals all over the bed, fragrant candles everywhere next to the bed. I put everything down then headed back to join everyone for lunch. I grabbed the envelope, package and little box on my way out. I stuffed the little box in my pocket to hide it.

I planned all this weeks ago. I think that her birthday is the perfect opportunity. The pool house had to be finished and I had a little shopping to do. It wasn’t easy to do because I let Elise read my mail for me whenever I was busy. Letting her read my credit card statement would have been a real party pooper. She would have seen the ring purchase.

We had lunch inside the house while my parents told Elise about all my and my late brother’s childhood silliness. After a few glasses of wine we continued our banter outside by the pool. There were six chairs… but Elise chose to sit on my lap. I could see the curiosity in her eyes when she saw the envelope and package in my hands. I passed her a grin then looked at my parents. They nodded for me to go ahead. I handed Elise the envelope first.

“What is this Shannon?” she asked, staring at it.

“That Honey, is your birthday gift from my parents.” She tore it open, pulled out the papers and read them. She jumped to her feet in excitement. My parents, of course, knew what was coming and stood up, preparing to be jumped.

“Oh my God, it’s a… scholarship… fully paid.” Elise jumped into their arms and wrapped her arms around both of them. The three of them almost tumbled into the pool.

“Oh thank you, thank you and thank you. How can I ever repay you?” She released them and looked at the papers again with bewilderment showing on her sweet features.

“Ah, it was nothing at all. We didn’t know what to get you, so we just decided to help you with any further studies.” My mother gave Elise another hug. Elise turned around and set the papers down on the table with a big smile. I handed Elise my package next.

“This is one of two gifts from me. It took me a while but I got it done in time with some help from my publisher.” I looked at my father. She looked at my father while opening the package, to reveal a hard copy collection of all the poems she wrote for me. The hard cover was protected by a proper dust jacket. The cover read: Love Poems written by Elise Benson.

“It’s just a rough copy for now. Read the introduction page.” She paged back after reading the first page, which had the first poem she wrote me on it. I had it dedicated to me.

“It’s a poem dedicated to me… written by you.” She read it out loud with tears streaming down her cheeks.

“You’re the one

By Shannon Grey

You made my heart skip ten beats at first sight.

You’re the one.

You made my knees go weak with our first kiss.

You’re the one.

You have made me happier than I could ever be.

You’re the one.

You drive me totally insane with her love.

You’re the one.

You glued my shattered soul back together.

You’re the one.

You mended my broken heart with patience.

You’re the one.

You made my life complete by being mine.

You’re the one.”

Elise and my mother were both wiping tears from their cheeks. Elise looked at me with her loving cerulean blues.

“Okay, now… before you jump my bones in front of my parents, Honey, could you please remove the dust jacket from the book and read what the hard cover says out loud?” I asked her. I felt my nerves on the brink of collapsing.

She did as I asked. I could feel the warm afternoon sun baking my skin. My heart raced in my chest. I could hear my blood beating in my ears, sounding like drums. I felt the shakes take over my body and sweat trickle over my skin.

“Love Poems written by Elise…” She froze, gasping for air. “Benson-Grey…” Elise lowered the book slowly. She found me in front of her on one knee, holding the little box open toward her. Elise clutched the book to her heart and swallowed at a hard lump in her throat.

“Will you marry me Elise Benson?” I held my breath. My mother cried as she watched the two amasya escort of us. I truly didn’t have a clue what her answer might be. A sense of fear had its evil clutches around my heart and lungs. She might say no.

“Oh, Shannon… I… I… I…” The young woman couldn’t speak. She frantically wiped at the tears in her eyes. I got to my feet and embraced her.

Elise buried her face in my breasts until she stopped crying. She looked up into my eyes and held her left hand out toward me. I put the ring on her finger as she spoke. “You sure know how to leave a girl breathless and snickering out of pure joy.” I cupped her face in my large hands and kissed her hungrily. “Yes, Shannon, I will marry you,” she beamed, finally.

We kissed again and held each other close. I started crying when I heard those words. My father smiled and his eyes glistened. My mother snickered more than the two of us were.

“I’m so sorry, Honey. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you like that.” I bowed my head down, lowering my lips to her ears.

“I’m really starting to think that I’m bad for you. First I make you pass out, then I make you see your future in my eyes and then I make you cry. This is becoming a habit with the two of us.”

Elise blushed wildly and looked around to see if anyone heard what I had said. I bent down, wrapped my arms around her legs under her ass and picked her up into the air. Elise cupped my face and kissed me passionately, her blue eyes turned violet. A while after the excitement died down, my parents decided to go out for a movie and dinner, maybe even a pool game and drinks afterward. So we were going to be all alone until late. I told them we would join them for a pool game later on. I took Elise to see the horses at the stables.

“They sure are beautiful animals, aren’t they?” Elise watched as I fed the horses. She had a dreamy look on her face.

“Yes, they truly are beautiful. Would you like to see my horse and maybe go for a ride?” I asked.

“Oh, I would love to, my Angel.” I walked out the stable with two halves of an apple in my hand, Elise in tow.

“He loves to be outside at this time of day.” I whistled loudly. I could hear my whistle cascade off the mountains and echo in the valley. I heard the familiar gallop and whinny as my horse came trotting to me from the distance.

My stallion trotted around me: a black stallion with a white splash on his side that looks like a thunderbolt. He stood in front of me, nudged me with his nose and flapped his lips against my face as if giving me a kiss. I rubbed him on the nose and on the side of his neck.

“This is Thunderbolt, my stallion.” I looked Thunderbolt in the eyes. “Thunderbolt, this is Elise, say hi.” As if understanding me, he flapped his lips against Elise’s face, giving her a kiss. “Good boy, here’s an apple.”

“He is a very clever animal. Did you teach him to do that?” Elise rubbed his neck.

“What… to kiss?” Elise nodded her answer. “Thunderbolt has been doing that to everyone he likes since he was born. If he doesn’t like you, he kicks you in the shin like he did to my ex.” Thunderbolt shook his head, snorted and kicked his hoof against the ground. “He knows we’re talking about her. Watch what he does next. Thunderbolt, did you like Charlotte?” The horse shook his head and snorted. “Thunderbolt, do you like Elise?” He nodded his head and flapped his lips against Elise’s face. “Good boy, here’s another apple.”

“Good boy, I like you too. You really are a handsome fellow,” Elise said to him. He stood back on his hind legs, kicked his front legs in the air and whinnied.

“You just made his day. Let me get the saddle and my .22. Then we can go for a ride. Thunderbolt you keep Elise entertained.” I turned and went to the stables.

It was late afternoon already. The sun was close to the mountains in the west. When I returned, Elise was sitting on the fence watching Thunderbolt gallop and trot around.

“I see you’re showing off again. Watch it Thunderbolt, this lady is mine. You have your lady in the stable.” He lowered his head and snorted at me. “Don’t challenge me; you’ll lose. I’ll just tell Spirit you’re flirting with my woman. I don’t think you would like a pregnant mare on your case.”

Thunderbolt shook his head then carried on trotting about. I sat beside Elise on the fence and watched him for a bit. “You two understand each other very well. How old is he?” Elise put her hand on my leg.

“He is twelve years old now. I had to feed him with a bottle when he was born. His mother didn’t make it through the night; she was really sick and weak. The vet still doesn’t know what was wrong with her. We think she was poisoned but we still can’t prove it.”

“That’s very sad and wrong.” I jumped off the fence to saddle Thunderbolt.

“Come on, let’s ride.” I helped Elise off the fence. Elise sat behind me on Thunderbolt as we showed her the valley and the stream. It all looked like something out of a dream or painting. The valley antalya escort looked like a giant canvas hung on a wall.

We stood next to the stream, watched the sunset behind the mountains then returned home for dinner. My mother cooked us a light dinner before they left. I stopped outside the door of the pool house and turned to face my love.

“Would you wait here a minute, please? I just want to do something before you see the place.” I kissed her on the cheek and left her outside wondering. A minute later I returned.

“What are you up to Shannon?” Elise looked at me with a smug smile growing on her luscious lips. I gave her a lopsided smile and wiggled my eyebrows.

“You’ll see in a second. Close your eyes.” I kissed her on the lips then waved my hands in front of her eyes. I took her hands in mine and led her inside the pool house. I let her hands go and switched on the music.

I led her to the table and helped her sit down. Going to the kitchen, I took the food, placed it on the table and removed the lids. “Okay… you can open your eyes now, Honey,” I said as I took a seat next to her.

“Wow… my Angel… this is beautiful.” She looked around the open plan living room, dinning room and kitchen.

“Yes, it is. My father has great taste. He went and bought everything the pool house needed with my earnings from my book.”

“He certainly does have good taste. I love it.”

Elise and I fed each other playfully then sat beside the pool and drank our wine. After a few glasses of wine we were in the pool. We chased each other around naked. It was already dark out and the stars were sparkling brightly above us. We sat on the stairs in the water facing each other. Elise had her arms and legs around my torso. She kissed me all over my face. I could feel my core throbbing for release. I stood up with her in my arms and walked to the pool house, both of us still naked.

I placed her gently on the bed. I settled on top of her. Our mouths devoured each other. We rocked our hips, rubbing our mounds together. I raised one leg under one of hers then sat up. I pulled her up with me. She figured out what I was up to and adjusted her lower body as I was doing. We pressed our pussies together in a tribbing position. We slowly rubbed our clits together. The short bolts of electricity shot through both our bodies as we kissed. Our hard sensitive nipples rubbed against each other. Ripples of pleasure travelled to our cores.

In a few minutes our bodies trembled with short blasts of orgasm, shooting in all directions. I broke our kiss, stared into her eyes, lovingly, as we both stopped, breathless. I leaned to the bedside table and opened the box of toys. Elise helped me strap the harness on and attached one of the toys. She lay back down on her back as I settled between her legs. I spread her labia with my fingers and dove in with my tongue, wasting no time.

“Mmmmm, yes, Shannon… God I love how you do that,” Elise purred her delight. She bucked her hips against my face.

Her words of pleasure got my core hot and wet, the little nub on the back of the base rubbed against my clit as I moved against the bed.

“Mmmmm, you taste so sweet,” I moaned into Elise’s hot and eager pussy.

I felt her tangle her hand in my short blond hair. She pushed my face harder into her. I slid two fingers inside her tunnel and flicked her clit with my tongue. Elise gasped and arched her back. She tilted her head back. Her chest rose and fell, as her breathing sped up. I snaked my free hand up her stomach to her breasts and pinched her nipples lightly. I then took her clit between my lips and sucked gently.

“Oh, fuck,” Elise mouthed the words as she looked back down at me. Our eyes connected, her bright blue eyes slowly turned violet again. I pumped my fingers in and out of her core, brushing my fingertips against her G-spot with every thrust. I felt her walls grip my fingers. She pulled me up for a passionate and hungry kiss. Elise pushed me onto my back and gently settled her core over the phallus. I looked at her, amazed at how easily the toy slid into her.

“Oh…” Elise exclaimed and leaned forward to kiss me.

She straddled my hips and placed her hands on my breasts. She rolled my nipples between her fingertips. I put my hands on her breasts and pinched her nipples softly. We moaned and grunted in unison. We felt the different sparks our ministrations created. Elise tilted her head back. She rode the phallus inside of her. Her movements made the little nub rub against my clit. I softly trailed my fingertips down her body to her hips. I cupped her ass in my large hands.

“Ah… ah… ooohhh…” Elise exclaimed. I felt her core grip the phallus. My own core gripped at air as I watched Elise ride me.

“Ooohhh Elise,” I said, gritting my teeth. Watching Elise sent fireworks shooting throughout my body.

“Fuck… Shannon…” Elise screamed my name on her release. She looked lovingly down into my eyes.

I watched her in the throes of our passion as her orgasm crashed into her wave after wave, setting off my own orgasm at the same time. She rode the phallus until she collapsed into my arms, panting heavily.

“That was the first time you screamed your release,” I said, breathless. I trailed my hands up and down Elise’s back.

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

I suddenly realized, ‘I might never go visit Lin again.’

We’re moving in together. I won’t have to go anywhere.

She had rented a nice two-bedroom, an easy walk to commuter rail, and an easy commute to her new job. Just outside the city, she found a good bit more apartment for a good bit less money, and in a quiet residential neighborhood.

I got there just before noon, following her map from the train, The building looked even nicer than her pictures had shown it. Smallish, just eight units, with a lot of single family homes on the street. I walked up the one floor to our unit, faced away from the street, and knocked on the door. Now our door.

I barely had time to set my bag down before she wrapped herself around me. First, she pressed the side of her head against my shoulder, just to get the most contact between us. After a moment, she tipped her face up toward mine, and it must have been instinct: I leaned down to kiss that sweet, soft mouth before I had any conscious thought of doing it.

Her grip loosened and shifted as we kissed, One hand slid from my waist to my hip. The other moved down a little, from my shoulder to that place under my arm, where she found that first softness of breast. (“Side-boob.” Gawd, that sounds so icky.) I started to feel that tingle in a lot of places she wasn’t touching.

My rational mind woke up at that moment. I leaned back and said, “We have some work to do, don’t we?”

After a moment, Lin released me. “Yeah, I never thought there would be that much stuff to unpack.”

She was well settled in, but the movers had left my stuff two days ago — now, a heap of boxes in the second bedroom. It wasn’t that much, really. A few things from my old bedroom at my parents’ place, desk and chair, and my books. Oh, yes, the books. “It’s not hoarding if it’s books.” And that was even before my grad program. Sometimes, I felt I was reading the way they feed geese for foie gras.

We stepped in, and I opened my travel bag for the jeans and t-shirt I’d want for the heavy lifting. Lin interfered affectionately as I undressed. She even undid my bra clasp from behind, when I wasn’t looking. I looked back at her, gave her a smile, and took it the rest of the way off. If she really wanted to see me bouncing all over the place as we worked, well, that was OK. She was bra-less too, but it looks very different on her.

The bed, nightstands, dresser, and desk set fell into place easily. For the moment, we just unboxed the books and stood them up in rows. I had packed them by subject, so that went quickly except for the few stragglers. You know, the ones that didn’t fit in the box with the others, or were the wrong size, or that had been in the wrong places when I was packing.

Lin got out a tape measure, and gaped when she added up how long the rows were. “11 meters? That’s how much shelf space you need?” Maybe it was the idea of anyone needing that much.

“I guess. Let’s call it 12 or 13, allowing room to expand.” We went out to the Home Depot for boards and cinder blocks for shelving — what grad students do. When we saw the standard sizes, we rounded up to 14 meters. Silently, I knew that meant “14, for now.” It’s books, after all.

The blocks filled the trunk and the back seat foot space of her car, and the boards stuck out the window a bit. I had to scrunch sideways to fit them and me into the car, but it wasn’t too bad. The shelves went together quickly, and filing the books went fast, too, since I already had them organized. Even so, it took a while and was heavy work. The day was hot, and we ended up as sweaty messes.

She asked, “Eat first, or shower?”

We had missed lunch. “Let’s eat. How does pizza sound?”

“Great. Mushroom and onion?”

“You know me too well. Sounds good.”

She dialed the order in, and I started knocking down the boxes. We worked together comfortably. For me, that means not getting in each other’s way. She rounded up the stray packing material while I worked on the boxes, then bundled the ones I was done with and took them out to the recycling bin.

We were about done when the doorbell rang. Lin grabbed her wallet and paid, then put it on the table. She locked the door behind her and stripped off her shirt t-shirt. That surprised me for a moment, but she was right. Sun filled the room, a warm breeze played through the window, and it was just us. And, as always, I melted a little at seeing her undress. I followed suit and, like her, hung my damp shirt over the back of my chair. Warm air on bare skin felt light and clean.

We didn’t say much as we ate our way through the pizza. My attention wasn’t much on the pizza, though, it was mostly on her. Skin a tawny tone, hair short and glossy, areolas like milk chocolate on butterscotch breasts. Sometimes, I feel like such a cow next to her. I have pale skin so veins show across my breasts, and they sit low and heavy compared to hers. She’d pass the “pencil test” easily — I van escort could hold the whole damn box of crayons. (Sorry about the language.) I guess it worked both ways, though. Lin enjoys my curves as much as I admire her sleek figure and slim hips. Her eyes seemed to be on me as much as mine were on her.

It wasn’t the biggest pizza we could have ordered, but not the smallest, either. I was surprised that we finished it off, and surprised that she ate as much as I did. For such a small woman, barely 50kg, she could sure put it away. Well no lunch and heavy lifting will do that. We sat for a moment, enjoying the aftertaste of the meal. Lin stood up then, folded the pizza box, and stuffed it in the trash. I did the same with the paper napkins, and put our water glasses in the sink.

I asked, “How about that shower now?”

“Sure. Wash my back?”

“Of course!”

I had seen a clothes hamper in our bedroom, so I grabbed our sweaty t-shirts and carried them over. I also stripped out of my jeans and underwear. The latter had been through the long trip here and through the afternoon’s hard work, and I couldn’t wait for fresh ones. I hung up my jeans and headed to the bathroom. Lin had fresh towels on the rack, her clothes in a pile on the floor, and water running to get warm.

I felt the air get steamy, and Lin stepped into the shower. She held the shower curtain back in invitation, and I followed. Once the water was hot, we turned on the shower. That first burst ran cold, but warmed up fast. I turned to face Lin, and she wrapped me in her strong hug again, this time skin to skin, breast to breast, and thigh between thighs. Hot warmed streamed down and between us, and I just leaned into the warmth.

Lin released me and grabbed the soap. She handed it to me, then turned to the wall and leaned against it on her elbows. It was “wash my back” time. I soaped up my hands and started on her shoulders. Her skin is soft and smooth, but doesn’t hide the strength underneath. I rubbed hard on her shoulders and upper back, and she purred contentment. I rubbed down her sides, too. I couldn’t really see it, but I felt the softness at the sides of her breasts, and kept working down.

Lin has slim but deep hips, and thighs that flow into them perfectly — the kind of shape that does the most for a long slit skirt. I soaped my hands again and pushed deeply into her rear muscles. Her purring got louder as I stroked, and peaked each time I pressed into that big dimple on each side.

More soap, and I knelt behind her. She moved her feet farther apart, creating a gap the full length of her legs. In the gap, I could see her little cheeks just below the big ones, and resisted the temptation to rub them, Not yet, at least. I started on her calves and worked up her thighs, soaping the outside, rear, and inside of each leg.

When I got to the top, rubbing between them did touch her labia. She cooed, and tipped her hip up, as if asking for more. I played a bit, pretending to wash.

“Lin, could you turn around?” She did, and leaned back against the tile wall. Already on my knees, I started on her calves again and worked by way up. When I got to he fold between thigh and vulva, she bent her knees out, to open up for me. The slit between her labia gaped a little, and my slick fingers ran down through that fold. I was careful; soap way up in wouldn’t do her any good.

I stood then, and worked up her belly to her chest. She raised her arms overhead, pulling her breasts up and almost flat against her chest. Still, despite the warm water, her areolas thickened and nipples as fat as my thumb-tip stood out. I massaged them far longer than cleanliness required, as her closed eyes and gentle smile encouraged.

I finally took the sprayer in hand and played with that, too. I rinsed the soap off her breasts, tummy and legs. Kneeling again, I said “Lin, open up.” Again, she bent her knees out, and I sprayed warm water up between them. Lin reached down and opened her labia, and I rinsed the pink petals in warmth. Unasked, she turned around so I could do her back. She reached around and separated her rear cheeks, and I rinsed there, too. I was embarrassed to look as closely as I did, but the little dark star between her cheeks captured my gaze.

Finally, “I think I’m done.”

“My turn.” She took the sprayer from me and soaped her hands. She pushed my shoulders until I leaned against the wall, then started. “Close your eyes.”

To tell the truth, I was a little turned on already, from my closeness with her body, and thought I’d be ready for anything. Her first touch surprised me, though. Slick fingers rubbed my neck, the muscles just under each ear, gently, then with a stronger touch. It felt far more intimate than anything I expected. I felt myself nibble my lower lip at the touch. (She’s reading over my shoulder. “You always do that when you’re excited.” I didn’t know I was that obvious.) From neck, to my shoulders, yalova escort to my arms — oops, I’d missed her arms, too wrapped up in the rest of her.

Back to the shoulders, then upper chest, then breasts. She slid her hand under one, and lifted it. My nipple, smaller than hers and pink, seemed to stare back at her. She kissed it, wrapping her lips around it, and a tingle seemed to radiate through me. Next, she soaped the upper part. Still holding it up, her hand slid along the top and sides, gently, over and over. It was almost hypnotic, and it felt right when her hand reached my areola and massaged that as thoroughly. Gently, with slippery thumb and finger, she tugged the nipple two or three times. Still lifting the breast, she used two hands to soap underneath. The same again on the other side, slowly and gently, as if she could go on forever.

I didn’t realize how worked up I was until she set that second breast down and worked toward my belly. And I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until I released it. I kept my eyes closed, and lived for her touch. I missed her hands on my breasts, but I knew there was more to come. Massaging my stomach gave me a little relief, then she pressed the flat of her fingers into my mons. Up at the fleshy part, it felt warm and affectionate. Down lower, though, one finger pressed just where my labia divided. It took only a moment for her to find my clitoris, the ridge way back from the tip, and rub that side to side. It felt full and thick; I hadn’t realized my body had responded so much to her. Gentle massage for just a moment, and her hands moved again.

One went outside of my thigh, maybe to part of my bottom. The other slid down between my legs, in the crevice between thigh and my outer labia. Again, I hadn’t realized how full and pillowy they had become, not until her caress showed me. Her two-handed hold on my leg worked down and she knelt in front of me. The hand between my legs rubbed my thigh, but also pressed against my lower vulva. I even felt gentle pressure against my vagina. As she worked down my leg, I relaxed a bit, but tension returned when she started at the top of the other. Down that leg too, then she stood. One hand around my back held me close, the other rubbed my labia in long, slick strokes. My knees moved apart and started to feel wobbly; I put my hands on her shoulders for support.

“Your back now. Can you lean against the wall?” I pressed my elbows against the tile and rested my head where my arms crossed in front of me. The flush of excitement from her caress eased slowly as Lin worked deep into the muscles of my shoulders and lower, near my spine. Then lower still, where my waist tapered out to hip, and the big muscles of my rear. She stopped for more soap every now and then, giving me a chance to gauge just how much my body was responding to her. Then she’d start again and I was back in the moment.

My mind drifted until I felt her slick hand deep in the crack. She felt me tense. Her hand worked up and down in slow strokes as she asked, “This is OK, isn’t it?”

I remembered the last time she touched me back there. “Yes Lin, it’s yours.” Just saying that seemed to set something free in me, and I let myself enjoy this most intimate touch. Soon, I felt a fingertip touch the opening, and draw small, slick circles. I almost tensed, but relaxed into this, too. Lin found a slow rhythm: press, slick up with more soap, and press again. Press deeper. Just millimeters at a time, her finger eased me open. More soap, and the whole fingertip was in me. More soap, and it was truly in. I felt myself panting by that point, and expected her to pull out, but I was very slick already. Her other hand held the front of my hip, and she pressed all the way in. Not a stabbing motion, but a quick and easy glide in until the width of her hand stopped her from going any deeper. All the way in, and the pressure of her hand. Little motions, in and out, twisting right and left, and her finger flexing inside me.

Lin just held for a moment, and said “Squeeze.” I clenched my bottom and felt it snug and slide along her finger. I relaxed and it slid back. “Squeeze.” I did it again, and again, I felt myself slide along her finger. Each time I tightened my rear around her, I could feel other muscles all through my pelvis tighten at the same time. If we hadn’t already been under the shower, I might have noticed some dampness between my legs.

Lin finally let go of me and withdrew her finger, leaving an odd emptiness. She reached for the sprayer, and rinsed the soap from my rear. I watch her wash her hand carefully, the one that played with my bottom. She turned off the water and reached for a towel. She wrapped my trembling body, and guided me out of the shower. She toweled me down, all over, and wrapped me in a warm terry robe. She dried herself, then guided me to the bedroom and into the bed. My bottom still tingled; even so, I fell asleep in çorlu escort moments.

I woke about an hour later, still wrapped in a thick, fuzzy robe, and found Lin at the dining table, dressed the same. She looked up from her book with a big smile, and reached for my hand as I sat down. That’s when I saw the box on the table, wrapped in deep blue with silvery ribbons.

“Happy Birthday, Micca!”

“For me? But my birthday is tomorrow.”

“I have plans for that, too.” She pushed the box toward me. “Go ahead.”

I untied the ribbon and opened the wrapping carefully — maybe too slowly for Lin, but prolonging my suspense. The small box was heavier than I expected, much heavier. I shifted it back in my hands, admiring the deep purple cover and hot-pink embossed lettering: “Anna Leigh” in script lettering, then block letters, “Adorned.” I turned the lid back on its hinge, and found three shining objects in stainless steel. They were all alike, but differed in size. At one end, a flat disk with a wide, faceted jewel, pink, white, or ice blue. At the other, a heavy round knob with tapered end. The smallest was a little bigger around than my thumb; the biggest almost three fingers wide at the widest. A narrow neck connected the knob and disk, getting wider in proportion to the knob. The inner lid had a small logo, a few graceful curves suggesting a woman’s hip seen from behind. A small jewel was pasted low on one of the curves.

I suddenly realized what I was looking at. I looked at the lid again, “Anna Leigh Adorned.” Or “anally adorned,” as the logo inside suggested. The knob end of each one was to go in my bottom. Suddenly, even the smallest looked big. I looked up at Lin, and saw a pensive expression. She asked, “Will you try it? For me?”

Something in “for me?” melted inside me. I was a little nervous, but said “Sure. Just try, right? And stop if it doesn’t work?” I forced a smile to happen, and once I did it felt real.

Lin came over to me and, standing, hugged my shoulder. “Of course, Micca. We won’t do anything you don’t like. Not now, not ever.” I was still sitting, so leaned my head against her tummy, and wrapped my arms around her hip. That tingle came back to my bottom, and still glowed in me, and made me bold. “Now?”

Lin beamed. That was the reaction she hoped for. “Yes, now. Let’s go to the bathroom.” I got up, and she slipped the robe from my shoulders as I stood. She left hers behind, too, as she took the box and headed to the bathroom. I saw a bowl ready on the sink deck, and she filled it with warm water. The smallest of the metal toys went in — Lin didn’t want it to feel cold. Still nervous, that made me feel a little better. It also showed me how much she had thought it through beforehand.

“Could you lean over? Hold yourself up on the sink deck.” I bent over as she said, supporting myself on my hands and facing the big mirror behind the sink. (I almost leaned on my elbows, but my breasts dangle that low and the tile was cold.) In the mirror, I saw my hip tipped up, and her behind me.

She pulled a tube from the medicine cabinet next to the sink, unscrewed the lid, and put a big, clear blob on her finger. She laid one hand on my back, and said “This might feel funny, but you’ve felt it before.” Her hand on my back slid down to my bottom. A moment later, I felt her spread my cheeks with one hand, then the touch of cool goo down low. I startled and then relaxed. I saw my nervous smile in the mirror, and said “Cold.”

Lin smiled again, and focused her attention on this place that no one else had ever touched. I knew what to expect, so braced for the cool touch. Lin smeared it around, then pushed her finger into me. She pulled it out again, put more goo on her finger, and pressed into me again. With the slick lube, she was all the way in before I knew what happened. She rotated her finger inside me, a squirmy feeling, then pulled it back out. At that point, I felt like a spectator to my own life, not an actor. I had given myself over to this, and Lin looked comfortable in her role.

She pulled her finger back out, leaving a kind of emptiness. A quick wipe with a tissue got the excess gel off her finger, and she pulled the toy from the bowl. I watched in the mirror as it disappeared behind the curve of my hip, then felt it warm and hard at my body’s entrance. Lin looked at me in the mirror and began to push.

I felt it start to slide in, slowly, very slowly. As it entered, it got wider and wider. I saw in the mirror that my eyes got big, my mouth made an open “O”, and I started to say “Lin, it’s…”

Oh. I stopped in mid-sentence. “It’s in.” That was a lot easier than I expected, and the warmth inside and out was nice. Lin used another tissue to clean my bottom. I cringed a little at the feeling of someone else wiping me like that, but it was Lin.

“OK, you can stand up now.” I did, slowly, feeling it heavy and shifting inside me. Lin was still standing behind me. I saw her reach down and felt it wiggle as she touched it.

“Squeeze, Micca.” I did, and almost jumped at the feeling. Not bad, but different from anything I’d felt before, even her finger. “Squeeze.” I did it again, and the shifting mass started to feel familiar.

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Als erster wurde Horst wach und als er die Augen öffnete, blickte er während es draußen bereits leicht dämmerte direkt in Kevins schlafendes Gesicht. Er erkannte Kevin sofort und dahinter mich, als ich mir gerade anfing den Schlaf aus den Augen zu reiben. Als ich mich zu Horst drehte und ihn und Kevin erblickte, hielt sich Horst den Finger vor den Mund.

Ich machte große Augen als mir die Tatsache bewusst wurde, dass sich Kevin heute Nacht in unser Bett geschlichen hatte und schaute fragend auf Horst, die leicht mit den Schultern zuckte. Unabhängig voneinander fragten wir uns wortlos was diese Situation zu bedeuten hatte. Ich blickte auf den Wecker, es war gerade mal 6.

Horst grinste und ich sah, dass er soviel sagen wollte, hielt sich aber zurück, um Kevin nicht zu wecken. Unentschlossen tauschten wir Blicke aus und Horst suggerierte, dass er sich an Kevin kuscheln wollte und dass ich das Gleiche tun sollte. Ich nickte und zeitgleich kuschelten wir uns an Kevin.

„Guten Morgen, mein Liebling!” hörte ich Horst sagen, was ich augenblicklich mit:

„Na hast Du auch so gut geschlafen wie ich?” kommentierte.

Kevin wurde wach und als er uns so an ihn gekuschelt entdeckte, machte er sich stocksteif.

„Wie spät ist es?”

„Gerade mal 6!”

„Dann haben wir ja noch ein bisschen Zeit!” und schon begann Horst Kevin zu streicheln, als er dann vorgab Kevin plötzlich zu entdecken.

„Kevin, was machst Du denn hier?” fragte Horst sanft.

„Kevin?” fragte auch ich.

In Kevins Gesicht zeigte sich die volle Portion des Ertapptwerdens.

„Ich, ich…!”

Und dann wollte er schnell aus dem Bett flüchten, doch Horst hielt ihn zurück.

„Nana, kneifen gilt jetzt nicht. Du bist heute Nacht in unser Bett gekommen. Warum?”

„Ich, ich…”

Nun griff ich ein. „Kevin, das ist doch nicht schlimm. Man kann doch mit seinen Bros im gleichen Bett schlafen, da ist doch nichts dabei.”

Verwundert darüber, dass wir jetzt nicht sauer wurden, schaute er abwechselnd auf Horst und mich und Horst beteuerte ihm:

„Nein, wirklich nicht.”

„Echt?” brachte er endlich hervor.

„Nein Kevin, aber Du wirst sicherlich mittlerweile geschnallt haben, dass Horst und ich eben nicht nur Bros sind. Das ist Dir doch schon klar, oder?”

Kevin nickte eifrig. „Aber ich sage niemanden etwas davon, ich schwöre!”

„Das glauben wir Dir, das ist aber nicht das Problem!”

„Sondern?” fragte er.

„Wir würden gerne wissen, was Deine Gründe waren, warum Du nicht in Deinem schönen großen Bett geblieben bist?”

„Das war zu groß für mich, zu ungewohnt. Ich habe doch nur diese kleine Klappcouch, auf der ich penne. Und so ein Riesenbett bin ich nicht gewohnt.”

„Verstehe, Du fühltest Dich einsam?”

„Genau und dann habe ich Euch gesucht oder zumindest einen von Euch, um vielleicht noch was zu quatschen und habe alle Zimmertüren aufgemacht!”

„Und dann hast Du uns in einem Bett gefunden?”

„Ja und Ihr saht so vertraut miteinander aus, dass ich mich sofort geborgen gefühlt habe und irgendwann nicht mehr anders konnte, als mich zu Euch zu legen.”

„Das escort acıbadem ist ja süß!”

„Und Ihr seid nicht sauer?”

„Nein, wieso, wenn wir Dir ein gutes Gefühl geben konnten, dann ist das doch toll?”

„Ja, ich habe von Fred mal den Ausdruck so sicher wie in Abrahams Schoß gehört und jetzt weiß ich wie sich so was anfühlt, nämlich so wie ich zwischen Euch beiden liegen konnte!”

Mich hatte er mit dieser süßen Formulierung total überzeugt, doch Horst bohrte noch etwas nach.

„Und nicht mehr?”

„Nein, was meinst Du?”

„Na, Du hättest auch damit rechnen müssen, dass wenn Du Dich zu zwei schwulen Männern ins Bett legst, das es da nicht nur beim Kuscheln bleiben könnte, oder?”

Kevin blieb still und Horst blickte ihn eindringlich an.

„Oder etwa nicht?”

Kevin schwieg weiterhin, doch sah ihn mit großen Augen an.

„Oder war es etwa das, was Du Dir insgeheim erhofft hast?”

„Nein, ich habe noch nie was mit einem Mann gehabt, aber…!”

„Aber?”

Kevin holte tief Luft und antwortete: „Vielleicht hätte ich ja gar nichts dagegen gehabt?”

Horst warf mir einen vielsagenden Blick zu.

„Aber es ist ja nichts von dem passiert, wogegen Du eventuell nichts gehabt hättest, oder?”

„Stimmt, wir haben ja nur in einem Bett geschlafen.”

„Eben, aber wir haben ja auch noch ein bisschen Zeit bis die anderen kommen und vielleicht sollten wir ja noch was von dem ausprobieren, wogegen Du eventuell gar nicht gehabt hättest. Nur um sicher zu gehen, meine ich? Was meinst Du? Würde Dir das gefallen?”

Kevin nickte leicht.

„Ja vielleicht…!”

„Vielleicht gefällt es Dir ja, wenn Dich meine Hand hier streichelt?” schlug Horst vor, während seine Hand über dem T-Shirt über Kevins Brust streichelte.

Sofort schloss Kevin seine Augen und wie ein heimatloser Hund genoss er augenblicklich Horst Berührung.

„Vielleicht kann Bernd ja die andere Seite streicheln?”

Wieder nickte Kevin und wir beide rutschten näher an in heran und auch meine Hand streichelte über die Brust, während sich Horst auf die hart werdende Brustwarze konzentrierte.

Ein sanfter Ausdruck des Genießens drang aus Kevins Mund und Horst Mund wanderte an sein Ohr und sprach sanft:

„Dürfen Bernd und ich noch ein bisschen weiter machen?”

Kevin nickte mit weiterhin geschlossenen Augen und genoss unsere Berührungen fast so, als sei er noch nie im Leben berührt worden.

„Bist Du Dir auch ganz sicher? Bis jetzt ist noch nichts passiert, aber wenn wir weiter machen, gibt es irgendwann kein Zurück mehr für Dich?”

Kevin breitete seine Arme aus und schlang sie um unsere nackten Oberkörper und streichelte uns vorsichtig, etwas ungeschickt, so als ob er dies zum ersten Mal tue.

„Ja, bitte macht weiter. Das ist total schön für mich.”

„OK, aber wenn Dir was nicht gefällt, sagt Du sofort STOP und wir hören auf.”

„Ich verspreche es.” sagte er sofort.

„Entspann Dich, flüsterte ich ihm nun ebenso sanft ins andere Ohr und zeitgleich wanderten Horst und meine Hand istanbul eskort über das T-Shirt südwärts unter die Decke und streichelten über seinen Bauch. Kevin begann heftig zu atmen und wiederholte immer wieder:

„Das ist so schön!”

Horst fuhr als Erster mit seiner Hand unter sein Shirt und seine Finger wanderten sofort wieder aufwärts über seine für seine Alter schon ordentlich behaarte Brust und seine Finger liebkosten erneut seine Brustwarzen die immer spitzer wurden. Ich streichelte weiter seinen nackten Bauch und Kevin stöhnte leicht auf.

Mit unser beider Hände unter seinem knappen T-Shirt, hatten wir aber bald kaum mehr Platz und so versuchten wir beide das T-Shirt hoch zuschieben. Kevin verstand und setzte sich auf und wir zogen ihm gemeinsam das Shirt über den Kopf. Zur Sicherheit schauten wir ihm ins Gesicht, ob wir weiter machen durften.

Wir sahen keinerlei Verweigerung in seinem Blick und seine Arme ließ er sofort wieder auf unsere Schulter sinken. Wir ließen uns auf seinem Oberkörper gleiten und leckten ihm beide sanft die Nippel, was nun ein lauteres Grunzen ihm entlockte. Nun waren wir ziemlich sicher, dass er ganz gewiss das geschehen lassen wollte, was wir mit ihm veranstalteten. Je mehr wie an ihm leckten und saugten, desto stärker rieb er an unseren Schultern und desto schneller ging sein Atem.

Ich stockte und schaute ihm in sein entzücktes Gesicht und sah auf seinen leicht offenen Mund. Er wendete seine Blick nicht von mir ab und sein Blick signalisierte mir, dass er mehr wollte. Auch ich brach den Blick nicht ab und mein Blick fragte vorsichtig ob ich weiter gehen durfte.

Ich durfte, da gab es gar keine Zweifel und somit wanderte meine Hand wieder unter die Bettdecke bis an den Rand seiner Unterhose. Ich streichelte die leichte Behaarung im Schambereich oberhalb des Bundes seiner Hose und ich war mir sicher, dass sein Gesicht mir nun sein Verlangen signalisierte, dass ich ihn nun endlich auch ganz berühren sollte. Meine Finger glitten vorsichtig in seine Hose und sein Blick flehte mich an weiterzumachen, während Horst von dem überhaupt nichts mitbekam, da er weiterhin genüsslich an seinen Nippel saugte.

Kaum hatte ich den Bund seines Slips passiert, da fühlte ich bereits die vom Vorsaft getränkte Spitze seines Schwanzes und unsere Münder hatten sich mittlerweile soweit genähert, dass ich seinen heißen Atem spüren konnte. Obwohl wir schon soweit gegangen waren, steigerte sich das Verlangen in seinem Blick und so griff ich das erste Mal zu und umschlang mit meinen Finger seinen steifen Schwanz, als er seinen Kopf hob um mir einen Kuss zu geben.

Ich näherte mich ihm und während ich sanft seinen Schwanz streichelte, küsste ich ihn vorsichtig. Er zeigte keinerlei Gegenwehr, er wollte auch geküsst werden und erwiderte den Kuss sogar. Zuerst nur ganz leicht, dann immer mehr und immer fordernder, was mich dazu ermutigte, ihm den Zunge in den Mund zu schieben. Er ließ mich gewähren und genoss die Leidenschaft, die zwischen uns aufkam. Horst bemerkte, was sich zwischen uns tat und rutschte nach oben ohne Aufzuhören escort şerifali seinen Oberkörper zu streicheln. Kevin sah ihn an und gab ihm zu verstehen, dass er ihn auch küssen wollte.

Als die beiden knutschten arbeitete ich mich nach unten und zog ihm den Slip runter und sein praller Blutpimmel stand im 90 Grad Winkel von seinem Unterkörper ab. Ich umgriff seinen Schaft fest mit der einen Hand und streichelte sanft seine Eier mit der anderen. Während sein Becken sich nun im Taumel der Lust emporhob, hörte ich wie er unters Horst Küsschen vor Luft aufstöhnte.

„Wahnsinn! Oh ja geil!”

Horst blickte zu mir und gab mir zu verstehen, dass ich weitermachen sollte und küsste Kevin nun auch mit Zunge, als ich mit meiner Zunge die Spitze seiner feuchten Eichel liebkoste. Seine Becken wurde immer unruhiger und das Stöhnen wurde lauter. Langsam umschloss mein Mund seine Eichel und bevor ich mir seinen Schwanz ganz einverleiben konnte, kam das unausweichliche.

Wir zwei alten Hasen hatten den jungen Kerl so aufgegeilt, dass er viel zu schnell zum Orgasmus kam.

Er stöhnte lautet auf: „Scheiße ich komme!”

Und schon pumpte er mir seine heiße Sahne in den Mund.

„Scheiße ist das geil, oh ja, ooooh!”

„Ja, lass den Schleim raus, Kevin. Lass Dich gehen.”

Das tat er, als er Horst erneut die Zunge in den Hals schob um dann erschöpft zusammenzubrechen.

Ich kuschelte mich mit Horst an ihn heran und wir brummten vor Zufriedenheiit um die Wette. Wir waren beide zwar nicht gekommen, hatten aber hier unserem neuen, jungen Freund ein unvergesslich erstes Mal beschert.

„War es so, wie Du es Dir vorgestellt hast?” flüsterte Horst Kevins ins Ohr.

„Tausend Mal besser!” hauchte Kevin immer noch ganz außer Atem.

„Und es muss ja auch nicht bei dem einen Mal bleiben!” schlug Horst vor.

Kevin erkannte plötzlich, dass er sich ja mit zwei Männern die in einer Beziehung standen eingelassen hatte.

„Aber das geht doch nicht!” protestierte er.

„Wieso nicht?”

„Na, Ihr 2 seid doch ein Paar, oder nicht?”

„Ja, aber das sind doch wir doch vorher auch schon gewesen und wir hatten gerade Sex miteinander.”

„Schon, aber heute hat es sich doch so ergeben…”

„Und warum sollte sich so eine Situation nicht wieder ergeben?”

„Weiß nicht?”

„Eben,” fiel ich Horst ins Wort, „wir spielen gerne auch mal mit einem Dritten, wenn er uns beiden gefällt.”

„Und ich gefalle Euch?”

„Sonst wäre es hierzu nicht gekommen, noch dazu in unserem gemeinsamen Bett!”

„Stimmt, sonst treiben wir es mit anderen Kerlen eher in einem anderen Bett oder an einem anderen Ort.”

„Ich weiß nicht!”

„Was weißt Du nicht? Hast Du etwa Angst, dass jemand davon erfahren könnte? Wir verraten es bestimmt niemanden.”

„Na, der Fred hatte schon mal so eine Andeutung gemacht, dass Ihr vielleicht nicht nur Kanzleikollegen seid.”

„Hat er das? Und meinst Du er hat was gegen Schwule?”

„So genau hat er das nicht gesagt, aber ich weiß nicht so genau.”

„Ich knöpfe ihn mir heute Mal vorbei und gehe dem Thema mal auf den Grund.”

„So jetzt gehen wir aber alle mal duschen.”

„Ich gehe zuerst!” befahl ich, „und dann mache ich schon mal Frühstück.”

Ich duschte schnell und als ich das Bad verließ lagen die beiden immer noch innig kuschelnd im Bett. Heimlich machte ich schnell ein Bild von den Beiden, wovon sie aber nichts mitbekamen.

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“Okay now the hard part,” chirped Gracie.

Gracie was Nicole’s hairdresser, and for all intents and purposes mine as well. Ever since Susan blackmailed me into a lesbian relationship with her cousin Nicole I have been trapped as Nicole’s sex slave. Forced to act the way she wants, dress the way she wants and even have my hair and makeup done the way she wants.

Today what Nicole wanted was a very erotic braiding. The girls at the salon had just finished my makeup, usually the last step. Covering my face in a light foundation, my lips in a contrasting deep burgundy color and my eyes in red and black eye shadow and eyeliner.

With the focus of a surgeon Gracie started to braid the hair along my scalp starting from the center and ending above my ear, leaving a bit of hair in the middle of my forehead. Next, using some of my long hair from the back she started braiding forward until she met the front braid. Incorporating the remnants of each, she braided down towards my ear before breaking the braid in two, a smaller one going behind my ear and a larger one in front. The front braid was parted again just above the level of my eyebrows and braided to the hair dangling over my nose, while the rest was braided to the bottom of my ear. The rear braid was kept tight against the back of my ear and pulled around the bottom where it was merged with the braid in the front. Gracie then braided the combined hair towards my face just under my cheekbone. When she reached the center of my eye she broke the braid into two, the upper was braided moving just under my eye to the top of my nose. With another hairdresser holding it in place Gracie repeated the process on the other side. With an intricate webbing of six braids meeting over my nose Gracie started to braid the hair she left hanging in the center of my forehead, incorporated each braid as she went down the bridge of my nose. She then braided the final lower braids until they emerged over the center of my nose and then braided the remaining hair up.

Unable to see, it felt like Gracie was making a small bun with my hair at the crown of my nose. Using a small pliers and a metal ring she secured them all together. The end result felt like a web of hair covering the top of my face.

“Done! What do you guys think?” Announced Gracie.

Spinning my chair I got to see Gracie’s artwork. The lattice work of interwoven braids resembled a fashionably erotic lace mask that was becoming popular.

“It’s incredible,” beamed Nicole as she surveyed Gracie’s work, “a true work of art. What do you think puppet?”

“Unbelievable,” I replied almost in a daze as I reached up, my nails colored to match my hair scraping the intricate braiding.

“I know”, giggled Gracie. “I cannot believe I was actually able to do it. I was thinking we could add some angel’s breath to highlight the style a little more.”

“No,” replied Nicole placing her hand on Gracie’s back and sliding it lower than appropriate. “It’s perfect, anything more will just take away from it. How finish up we have a photo shoot to do.”

I studied my image as Gracie made short work of my remaining hair. It truly was a work of art and gave my face and me a highly seductive look. The small bun on my nose resembled a flower decorating the center of the mask and was a brilliant way to hold it all together. Once again Nicole made me look my best for her deviate plans.

While I was making my assessment Gracie was making two more braids running down the back of my neck pulling the ends up and weaving them back into their bases, creating two loops. With my remaining hair she created a small bun at the base of my head looking like a larger version of the one she created for my mask. Standing up, I noticed that I had become the center of attention in the crowded salon as everyone stopped to admire the fetish style Gracie created, including Morgan the salon owner.

“That is truly amazing,” complemented Morgan.

“Thank you,” beamed Gracie from her bosses complement.

“I knew you were good,” continued Morgan as she examined my head, “but this deserves to be on the cover of a magazine.”

“Thanks again,” stated Gracie. “Alice and Nicole are doing a photo shoot and asked me to do a style that would make Alice really stand out.”

“Well given how beautiful your model looks I can just imagine how well the pictures will turn out,” added Morgan. “Say, I have an idea. If you are doing a photo shoot I will exchange the cost of the visit for a head shot we can place on our salon wall?”

“That sounds fantastic,” responded Nicole. “How about that my sweet, your first professional shoot.”

I could only smile nervously. Nicole did not even ask me if I was okay having a picture of me on a salon’s wall, let alone looking like this. But it made no difference as Susan would not allow me to say no.

“Come puppet we have a busy day,” ordered Nicole as she guided me out of the salon to the applause of the patrons.

—–

True bitlis escort to her word it was a busy day. Nicole had me dress in a number of outfits, the bulk of them borrowed from Annette, the MILF Susan forced me to seduce. Heavy into role-play Annette had a number of character outfits as well and a large collection of latex clothing. We had ‘play dates’ every other weekend when her daughter spent the night at her cousins by way of alternating sleepovers. As this was our off week, I knew she would loan me the clothes.

Hence, I found myself in Nicole’s darkened basement wearing a figure hugging shiny black latex dress with a deep scoop neckline that showed off the tops of my breasts and the hem meeting the pinkie rule. Shoulder-length opera gloves, four-inch stiletto heels and leggings reaching to within an inch of the hemline, all in shiny black latex, covered the skin left exposed by the little black dress.

Combined with my hair and makeup I couldn’t deny how sexy I looked or how restricted I felt. The gloves and leggings tightly encased my limbs and resisted even the slightest of movements. The dress clung tightly over my body, squeezing my torso and stomach into a more hourglass appearance and stretching over my hips and ass pinning my thighs together. Despite having a majority of my skin covered I felt naked and exposed in the tight ensemble. With the riding crop I gave Nicole for Christmas in hand I stood in position awaiting Nicole’s command. Forced to breathe deeply, I could feel the latex of the dress stretch before squeezing the air out of my lungs.

“Okay puppet,” commanded Nicole. “Let your arms hang and let the crop point at the ground. Back straight. A serious face and keep eye contact with the camera.”

I knew better than to resist and I posed as Nicole ordered. We have done these shoots many times and I knew exactly what she wanted. And like a professional model I started to walk down the lighted pathway towards the camera heel to toe with the crop playfully hitting my calf muscle as the camera clicked away.

The latex leggings tugged against my legs and the hem of the dress acted like a rubber band forcing my thighs together making me fight for every small step. As I walked forward I knew the lights were reflecting off of the shiny black latex presenting an ever-changing kaleidoscope for the camera.

After the dress Nicole had me pose in many more outfits, from latex to leather to lace. But the theme of the photos were all the same, sexual dom play. For some I posed as the aggressor, the dom role, and for others I was the submissive.

“Okay puppet, time for the real fun,” announced Nicole as she put down the camera and pulled several red ropes from her bag of tricks, “take off all your clothes.”

Nervously I removed the little clothing I was wearing as I watched Nicole methodically organized the ropes. Ever since I was forced to start this sexual relationship my body had been conditioned to associate females with sex. Yet as much as my body now desired the touch of a woman, mentally I was still heterosexual. But my lack of experience with boys gave me little to fight against the softness or feminine curves I had been trained to crave.

While my mind wanted to resist I knew I had to go along with Nicole desires and as I focused on the ropes coiled in her hands a shiver ran through my treacherous body. It’s amazing what can be conditioned to start triggering arousal. At the sight of the ropes my body knew my mind would no longer have control and would be free to enjoy the sexual pleasures without conflict.

With a playful smirk Nicole tied a figure eight knot into one of the ropes. My breathing became deep and slow as she moved in front of me and pressed herself against my naked body and centered the knot just above the crack of my ass.

“I know puppet,” whispered Nicole into my ear, “rope play makes me excited to.”

I felt Nicole pull the rope over my hips as she tied a decorative knot over my pelvis. Taking the ends she pulled them upward and around the small of my waist before directing them back down and through the loops of the figure eight knot on my back. Kneeling down she pulled the two ends between my legs wedging the ropes in the crack of my ass and up along the outside of my labia and looping them over the hip rope on either side of the knot over my pelvis. Pulling the two ends back down Nicole strategically tied a knot to rest on my clitoris before weaving the two lengths. Reaching for her bag Nicole pulled out a remote vibrator, identical to the one I embedded in Lisa, and pushed it into my wet cavity before sealing my slit with the woven rope.

I unconsciously wiggled my hips moving the vibrator and rope into a better position as Nicole pulled on the two ends forcing the ropes to move over my ass cheeks, then wrapping it around my hip, a little lower than the original, before securing it to the rope running up the bolu escort outside of my outer labia pulling them apart. After repeating the process on my other side I was effectively wearing a pair of rope panties hiding nothing but securely binding my body and keeping the small intruder from escaping.

“Now cross your arms behind your back,” ordered Nicole as she retrieved another rope.

A knot formed in my throat and I suppressed a moan as I folded my arms knowing my freedom was about to be taken away. A small gasp escaped my lips as Nicole meticulously wrapped the rope around my arms giving as much attention to its visual appeal as binding me. My whole body felt like an instrument being strung in preparation of being played by its master.

After securing my arms Nicole wrapped one of the ends around my chest just below my breasts. She then repeated the process with the other end wrapping it just above my breasts. The two ends were secured around my arms in the center of my back before being pulled up and tied into a decorative knot at the back of my neck. She then made two loops around my neck, one snug and the other loose hanging almost midway to my breasts and trying everything off behind my neck.

A tingle of excitement ran through my body as Nicole stopped to caress my breasts before she straightened the ropes. Returning to the table I watched as she found the center of another rope and used it to clinch the ropes running above and below my breasts together tightly between my breasts before pulling the two ends up towards to lose rope loop dangling around my neck. Giving the bottom of the loop twist Nicole fed the ends of the rope through the small ring she made and pulled them around my chest and looping them through the knot in the center of my arms. Moving behind me Nicole then pulled the two ends up and through the braided loops Gracie made before pulling them down and tying them to the figure eight knot over my ass.

“There, what a pretty package you make,” purred Nicole as she ran her fingers over the ropes.

Secured as I was all I could do was stand at attention as Nicole took liberties with my body. Squeezing her finger under the knot at my waist Nicole half directed half pulled me to a wooden pallet she covered with a deep red velvet cloth. Walking, I felt the full effects of the ropes for the first time as they pulled and pressed against my sensitive flesh.

I stepped onto the makeshift platform where Nicole helped me kneel. After having me wobble forward a little and spreading my legs Nicole was finally happy with my position and had me drop on my knees and press my ass into the heels of my feet. Taking another rope Nicole proceed to tie my thigh to my ankle and repeated the process every six inches until she reached my knee where she poked a hole in the fabric and secured the end to the slat beneath.

After securing my other leg the same way Nicole slowly circled me admiring her work. My breathing started to become heavy as I knelt at attention. Tied as I was I could not offer any resistance. I could only kneel, head facing forward as she made minor corrections to where the ropes lay. Satisfied Nicole retrieved her camera.

I had a sharp intake of breath and my body pulled against the ropes as Nicole activated the vibrator. Nicole laughed at my reaction as she captured my moment of surprise with the camera. After the initial jolt, Nicole reduced the setting of the vibrations to the level she knew would be very arousing but not enough to push me over the edge. The end result was my nipples remained hardened and my body released a steady flow of juices that lubricated the woven ropes pressed against my vagina.

My breathing started to become more and more labored as Nicole took her time moving around my bound body finding the perfect angle. All the while my pussy continued to leak as the vibrator kept up it steady torment. Twisting my body I let out an involuntary moan of frustration.

“Feeling a little frustrated puppet,” laughed Nicole.

“Yes mistress,” I replied as Nicole knelt down in front of me. Having all the pictures she wanted I knew she now wanted tease me for release. In my aroused state I could not take my eyes off of her round breasts swelling with each breath she took.

“You look so beautiful when you are helpless,” purred Nicole as she reached out and caressed my nipple. “I bet you would do anything to cum right now wouldn’t you puppet.”

“Ahhh, yes mistress,” I breathed while trying not to moan. Her touch was electric, and she knew how sensitive my breasts were. I kept trying to make it over the edge, my body was primed and wanted nothing more than to have Nicole bring me off, but she always pulled back just as I was reaching the crest causing my much wanted orgasm to retreat. My stomach clenching with exasperation from both wanting an orgasm from another woman and needing one. Knowing I had no choice I forced my head forward pulling burdur escort the bindings around my body tighter and driving the rope deeper into my crotch.

“Please mistress I need to cum,” I whimpered hoping Nicole would not make me debase myself too much.

“Oh so needy and helpless,” teased Nicole as she maneuvered in front of me, camera at the ready. “You may have what you crave.”

Nicole amped up the vibrator slightly and I leaned forward. The added pressure tightened the ropes and pressed the woven rope over my crotch against my clit. I started to pump my hips up and down as much as my restraints would allow as if humping an invisible object. My clit responded to the stimulation adding to the effects of the vibrator. Feeling the orgasm build my breathing became more labored, I started to hump faster and forced my head lower pulling the ropes tighter.

With a loud scream by whole body spasmed as the massive orgasm exploded within me. Unable to move, I remained in the ropes tight embrace as I caught my breath and let my racing heart slow. I enjoyed the rush of endorphins as I lifted my head easing the stress on the ropes. Opening my eyes I looked straight into Nicole’s camera and with a click of the shutter Nicole pulled the camera away revealing her perfect white teeth as she smiled.

“That was beautiful,” stated Nicole. Having its satisfaction my body was no longer fighting against my mind but the endorphins worked to distort my judgement and in my weakened state I could not resist her sexual draw and smiled back. As she stood and placed the camera on the table my eyes shifted focus to her ass shown off by the clinging yoga pants.

With her back still to me Nicole turned her head and made eye contact. With a wicked grin she grabbed the sides of her pants and pushed them down exposing her voluptuous ass. A hiss escaped my lips and my body trembled with lust as I felt it becoming more addicted.

Placing a chair before me, Nicole sat down and scooted until her glistening pussy was in front of my face and the smell of her arousal filled my nose. “Now bring me off,” commanded Nicole.

“Yes mistress,” I responded and I pressed my head down tightening the ropes once again.

Even before my tongue came in contact with her pussy I began salivate. Nicole’s training had been so effective and extensive the mere thought of performing oral sex caused my mouth to water. Worse was how my body now responded to the stimuli. My breasts swelled and my body tingled from the knowledge that I was about to pleasure another woman. As I strained against by bindings to reach Nicole’s crotch I felt the woven rope rub against my own pussy heightening my arousal.

As I stretched out my tongue it made contact with her moist lips I let out a deep sigh as Nicole activated the vibrator. As I pressed my body further down the rope tightened over my crotch and I pushed my tongue into Nicole’s cavity and lapped her juices.

It was Nicole’s turn to moan as my lips came into contact with hers and I began to maneuver my tongue in her love channel slurping out her nectar as I encouraged her body to release more. The familiar shiver of her body signaling she was about to cum I wiggle the tip of my tongue over her g spot causing her whole body to shake.

Laying in the chair I dutifully lap at her pussy as she came down from her high. My eyes staring over the expanse of her flat stomach and smooth curves of her heaving breasts before making contact with her eyes as she looked down at me, her hand moving to the back of my head.

“That was very good puppet,” breathed Nicole as she caressed my head. “One more like that and I will let you cum again.”

Extending my tongue I run it up to her swollen clit moving her hood out of the way before giving it a little nibble as I worked her arousal back up.

____

I stood nervously before the applauding crowd, still uncomfortable being the center of attention. When Nicole presented the promised photo and results of the photo shoot to Morgan she decided to host an unveiling party. Attended by all the stylists, a number of the salons younger more trendy clients and a style reporter from the local paper the salon was filled with women dressed for an elegant reception. Being covered by the press encouraged to attendees to wear sexy cocktail dresses with many having their hair and makeup done by the salon.

The photo, a framed 16×20 print of the facial shot Nicole took just after my orgasm, was hidden behind a velvet cover until Gracie and I removed it. Adding to my humiliation was its companion picture, a copy of a magazine ad with me walking down a darkened hallway wearing the latex dress, horse whip in hand. Susan had convinced Nicole to let her shop the images to an upstart perfume company who bought the set to use as part of a campaign. Susan even got Nicole to set up a modeling/photo company that now owned a number of the stock photos Nicole had taken of me. Erotic and kinky photos now the property of a soulless corporation, 80% owned by my mistress Nicole and 20% by my blackmailer Susan. Playing up my submissive role Susan even got Nicole to have me sign a rather Draconian modeling contract stipulating I could not reject any negotiated assignment.

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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.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Rob and I retired to my bedroom where we sat on each side of the bed and began to undress. I looked over at him and he was bent over taking off his shoes an socks and his shirt was riding up his back, exposing the top of his butt crack to me. I decided to hold my judgement until I saw him completely naked, so I turned around and continued getting my things off as well. Once I was finished I turned and saw him lie back on the bed, his cock resting on his belly. From what I could see he was also uncut, but the size of his cock completely surprised me. He appeared to be no bigger than one or two inches! I also noticed that he shaved his crotch. Not a hair to be seen anywhere around his cock or balls and then, upon a closer inspection, I noticed no hair on his arms or his legs. Apparently he kept his body shaved, with the exception of his face and head. While he didn’t have a beard or a mustache, his eyebrows were still there. I found myself eager to see what his body felt like once we got started.

I joined Rob, lying on the bed and snuggling closer to him. I could feel his body heat and it wasn’t long before I felt his hand on my thigh, slowly moving up towards my already expanding cock. Once contact was made he propped himself on one arm and leaned closer, letting his mouth envelope all of me. He took me right down to my hair, without any hesitation whatsoever. For a man of his stature I was surprised that he could ‘handle’ me with such ease. I felt him work his tongue into my foreskin and lick around my cock head, probing into my piss slit shortly after that. He was using his hand on my balls at the same time, massaging them and applying a gentle pressure at the same time. After a couple of minutes he pulled off me and descended to my balls, where he lavished them with his mouth, sucking each one into his mouth one at a time. Then he moved around and positioned himself between my legs, pushing them wider with his knees and then settled on his stomach and proceeded to continue his oral manipulation on my cock and balls. He pulled my balls back towards my belly and lowered his mouth and planted it on that area just behind my balls and I had to moan with pleasure. It sure felt good to have someone paying attention down there. I enjoyed that almost as much as having my cock sucked.

In his current position it was totally impossible for me to do anything with him, so I just lay there and let him do what ever he wanted to. When he did try to probe my ass with his fingers though I stopped him.

“I’m not into that,” I told him. “I’m not letting anyone stick anything up there. If that’s what you’re interested in the you can forget it. If that’s what you really had in mind then you might as well just get dressed and leave.” I was quite set escort ümraniye in my ways and I definitely wasn’t about to let anyone jam anything up my ass. I love the oral aspects of man-on-men contact, but that’s all. I’ll suck cock, lick balls, and suck nipples, but I will not stick my finger or my cock up someone’s ass and I expect to get the same respect.

“It’s not a problem with me, Mike,” he told me. “I wasn’t aware of how you felt and I’ll not do anything that you don’t want done. OK?”

“Thank you, Rob. I appreciate that.”

With that resolved, he lowered his head and continued with his oral assault. He moved higher and took my cock into his mouth once more and this time he started to hum while he sucked me. Now I’ll tell you this. I may not be much of a cocksucker, nor have I had too many men suck my cock, but this is the first time anyone hummed while sucking on me. I found, though, that I liked it. It was definitely a new sensation and the combination of his sucking, licking and humming soon hand me ready to fill his mouth with my cum. At one time he used his teeth, biting down on my cock just behind the ridge of my cock head and pulled forward, until his teeth were stopped at the base of the ridge. Once there he increased his humming and it was only a matter of a few more minutes before I shot a huge load of cum into his sucking mouth, where he greedily sucked it all down his throat and into his belly. He continued to use his mouth on me until I was finished and then he pulled back, licking up and down my shaft and gently sucking my cock head, like he was sucking on a straw to get the last bit of drink at the bottom of the glass, and then let my now limp cock fall back onto my belly.

“Damn! I’ve never had anyone do that to me before,” I told him.

“Did you like it?”

“I sure as hell did,” I told him. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“A man I once knew told me about it. He used that technique on me several times and I just knew I’d want to try it myself one day.”

“Is this the first time you’ve used it?”

“Oh no. I’ve used it a bunch of times, but always with the same result. While you might think you’re not ready to shoot your load, I find that the combination of my sucking, licking, and humming gets your juices flowing a lot faster and before you know what’s happening, you’re ready to let loose with a long hard shot of cum. And that’s when I get ready to drink your juices and totally enjoy the feel of an erupting cock in my mouth.”

“I’m going to have to remember that one myself. I’ve got a couple of friends that I’d love to use it on, too.”

Now Rob was lying on his back once more and I realized it was now my turn escort istanbul to work on him, so I slid over to his side of the bed and reached down to explore his shaved cock.

“I see you keep yourself shaved,” I mentioned.

“Yes. I always have. Just makes me more comfortable, and the feel of my clothing against my skin is a wonderful feeling as well.

I started with just my balls and then my cock and balls and eventually I got where I wanted to keep my whole body shaved, so I started doing that, but all that stubble only irritated areas of my body, such as my ass and under my arms. I checked into hair removal methods and thought I’d try Laser Hair Removal, but the cost was too prohibitive. Next I thought about waxing, but that was too painful to even really consider. Next I thought of edpilatories but found I was allergic to most of them and all I got for my efforts was a rash. Damned itchy, too. Then there was electrolysis, but just the thought of that one was enough to make me realize I couldn’t do it.

“So what did you do then?” I asked.

“I found a new method a couple years ago called Finally Free. It uses radio waves to kill the hair cells, stopping the growth. I’ve been using it now for almost a year and since I started I’ve not discovered any regrowth of hair anywhere on my body.”

“Is it expensive?”

“Not really. It does take time though and a lot of patience. You get something that looks like an electric set of tweezers, but it’s not like what you know as tweezers. You have to use it on each individual hair you want to get rid of. It sends a radio wave through the hair down to the root and in just a couple seconds the hair slides out painlessly and it will never grow again. I just love it.”

“How long did it take to do your whole body?” Now I was curious.

“All in all, I’d say it took about 2 months to do my entire body. Well worth it, too. I’ve used it on my face, too.”

For the first time I noticed that he didn’t have the ‘five o’clock shadow’ he once had.

“I hated shaving every morning and then having to do it again when I got home from work. You remember how thick my beard was, don’t you?”

I did. I’d often commented about his ‘shadow’ at work and he’d once told me that if he could find a way to quit shaving then he’d invest into it. I guess he found that method after all.

“Did it hurt at all?”

“Not a bit. I just had to prepare myself for a daunting job though.”

I let my hand slide up his right leg and noticing that there were no bumps from hair. I got to his balls and squeezed them, getting a moan from him, and noticed no shadow around the base of his cock, either. Now you’ve got to remember this, I was used to escort göztepe seeing a man with a lot of body hair, and now there was nothing there. Simply amazing. I’m sure he was quite happy now. I know I’d be, if I had been in his postition. Luckily for me I have real thin hair so it’s never been a problem for me. I only shave a couple times a week myself, as my beard is so light that it’s almost like it isn’t there at all. I never liked a beard or mustache anyway.

I leaned over and got my first close look at his tiny cock. I was the smallest cock I’ve ever seen. I put my hand on it and found that it easily fit in the palm of my hand and I could feel it filling with blood as an erection approached. Once he was fully rigid I’d estimate his length was 3 inches, with only a small amount of foreskin covering his cock head. I pulled that skin back and revealed a slightly pinkish cock head, with a piss slot on the top of his crown, much like mine. A drop of precum was alredy there so I dabbed it with my finger and plucked it off, raising my finger to my mouth so I could taste him for the first time. His precum reminded me of the cum I’d sucked from Ed all those months ago at the ABS. I lowered my head and took him entirely into my mouth and found that, not only could I get his entire cock into my mouth, but I could also get both his smallish balls in there as well.

Rob was now moaning with pleasure, so I applied a little pressure with my tongue, pushing his balls against the base of his cock and worked around them while sucking as well. At first it was a little difficult with both cock and balls in my mouth, but I soon got a rhythm going and they all began to feel more comfortable in my mouth. After a little while I released his balls and concentrated on that small prick. Since I couldn’t get it in my hand and use my mouth at the same time, I worked at it with my tongue, probing into his skin, which wasn’t as loose as mine, and licked around his head and cupped my tongue under his crown and worked there for a while. There wasn’t really a need to bob up and down on this organ, since I could wrap my entire tongue around it and suck it like a straw, a small straw, but the concept was the same. I could almost imagine my tongue wrapping completely around the girth of his cock and touching itself and I’ll bet that if I really tried I could do just that. But this was a time for sucking and not experimenting, so I returned to what I was doing and sucked his cock. I was soon rewarded with a couple shots of his cum, which landed on the back of my tongue, just on the edge of my taste buds, and was surprised at how good it was. I greedily sucked him dry and swallowed the two loads he gave me. Only then did I move to the side and lay next to him.

“Thank you, Mike. That was wonderful.”

“I’m glad you liked it, Rob. We’ll definitely have to do this again sometime.”

“Yes,” he answered, “we will.” The next thing I heard was his snoring, as he dropped off to a deep sleep. I lay there for a few minutes and then shut my eyes and joined him in slumberland.

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

Anonymous said: I hope you do this one. Can you write a story where two women sneak away and have sex while one or both of their boyfriends are waiting for them? Thanks, JJ.

***

My boyfriend was out of town, and I was lonely. I was feeling sorry for myself as I went through my routine for the day. I didn’t have any plans that night since my boyfriend was my usual plan on a Saturday night. I went for a long walk and decided that it would be a perfect night to utilize my apartment complex’s pool and spa to soothe my sore muscles.

I put on my fuchsia bikini and smiled at myself in the mirror. I had gained a few pounds, but this wasn’t a bad thing. I had been too thin for far too long, and it was nice to see my bigger tits and plump ass shoved into the tiny, barely-there fabric. I said goodbye to my cat, Toasty, and headed to the pool with my beach bag. I popped several marijuana-infused gummy bears into my mouth, hoping to peak at some point during my pool visit.

There were people already at the pool when I arrived, but my key fob wouldn’t seem to work. It had worked on plenty of other occasions, but now I wasn’t sure what was wrong. I tried swiping it over the sensor pad several times before I got frustrated. Finally, I stood on my tiptoes, trying to see over the tall bit of fencing in front of me. I saw a girl walking past, and I called out to her.

“Hey! Can you open this door for me? My key won’t work!”

She paused and pivoted to see who I was. Our eyes met, and she gave me a wide smile.

“Sure!” she called and walked over to open the door for me.

“Thank you!” I said gratefully.

“You’re welcome,” she answered with a smile. She was a petite Hispanic girl with a very adorable dimple on one cheek. She was gorgeous, and I have to admit when she turned around and walked toward the spa, she was looking mighty fine in her burgundy bikini. Fortunately, it was a string bikini that was too small for her. The top barely covered her small breasts, and even though her suit bottoms were bikini cut, she had allowed the fabric to gather between her plump ass cheeks. She was thin, except for where it counted in her ass and thighs. Her body was perfect, and though I probably would have gone in the pool if she hadn’t been there, I followed her to the spa instead.

“Hey, baby! I want another shot!” she demanded of the man who was already shoulder-deep in the hot tub. The man looked old enough to be her father. He was Hispanic and grumpy. I tried to say hello to him, but he merely grunted.

“Babe, don’t be rude!” she scolded him. She hopped into the spa, and I watched as the man extracted a bottle of booze from his bag and poured two plastic shot glasses full. They didn’t offer me any alcohol, but I wasn’t a big drinker anyhow. I was already starting to feel the buzz from the gummy bears I had eaten.

I couldn’t stop staring at the girl as she made conversation with the man. He was definitely her boyfriend, although I couldn’t figure out what a girl as hot as her was doing with a man like him. He wasn’t good-looking, he was slightly overweight, and frankly, he was a bit of an asshole.

“Let’s go to the pool,” the man grumbled.

“Yeah, let’s go! Come swim with me!” the girl said with excitement. She glanced over to make sure that I was still checking her out, which I was. I realized that I was probably the rude one and looked away long enough for them to gather their belongings and head over to the pool. I wanted to join them, but I didn’t want to seem rude or intrusive. I wanted to fuck this girl so badly, but there was no way the guy was going to allow that. He hadn’t even made eye contact with me since I’d arrived, and he wasn’t exactly friendly.

I watched while the couple continued to do shots, bursa escort but I kept my eye on the girl’s ass as she swam laps in the pool while trying not to get her dark brown hair wet. Her ass cheeks floated on the surface of the water as she swam, and that’s when the man caught me looking.

He didn’t say anything, but he glared at me, his nostrils flaring. Maybe he thought I was some kind of threat, but honestly, I didn’t give a fuck. I wanted his girlfriend, and I would definitely put in some work to try and make it happen. She kept looking over at me, her eyes dancing with delight as the alcohol worked its magic.

I felt pretty fucked up myself as the full effects of my pot-infused gummy bears worked their way into my head. I couldn’t stop watching her frolic in the pool like a child. She was probably a lot younger than me. She looked like she was barely twenty-one, while I was closer to forty. Still, she couldn’t stop glancing over at me to make sure I was still watching her. Finally, she moved to her man, her eyes still on me. They began to kiss, and I watched as his hands ran all over her body, touching all the places I wished that I could touch.

Instead, I touched myself, allowing my fingers to find their way into my bikini bottoms. I pressed my back against one of the more powerful jets in the spa and let my pussy ache for this girl as I listened to her giggle.

“Hi!” she called out to me, waving as she caught me watching them make out.

“Hi!’ I called back, waving at her stupidly. I was too high to even move, except for my fingers, which were bringing me closer and closer to orgasm.

“I think she’s touching herself,” the girl said loudly to the guy.

“So fucking what?” he answered.

“I think she’s horny. You said you want to see me with a girl.”

“She’s not a girl. She’s middle-aged!” The boyfriend said this as if it was a dirty word. “I want to see you with a hot, young girl.”

“You’re such a pervert!” the girl giggled, and then she splashed a bit of water his way.

That was the moment when I came, my pussy exploding inside of the spa. I tried not to make any noise, but I lost that battle. What came out of me sounded like a mix between a growl and a scream. I instantly knew that I had been too loud, and I was afraid to look up as I pulled my hand from my still-twitching clit.

“I told you she was fucking herself! Let me invite her over here.”

“I told you…” the guy began, but then he finally did turn and look over at me. I smiled sheepishly at him. “Fine, if you want, you can invite her over here.”

“Thank you!” the girl giggled and made her way over to me. I was nervous as she approached, but she was so beautiful that I couldn’t help but want to fuck the living shit out of her with my strap on or maybe sit on her face until she couldn’t breathe. She brought out something in me that I rarely encountered, something sadistic and carnal. I wanted to destroy her.

“I saw you watching us make out,” she said when she got close enough.

“Yeah, I’m pretty horny,” I admitted.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” She sat down at the edge of the spa and put her feet in so that they were close enough to touch me. She touched my thigh with her foot tentatively.

“Yes, but he’s out of town,” I admitted.

“Have you ever been with a woman?” she asked me, her cute little smile lighting up her entire face.

“I have. I’m sure you can tell that, can’t you?” I asked her. Our eyes met again, and her smile dissolved into a sexy pout. She knew what she was doing, and I was going to let her do it.

“You want to come over and have a couple of shots with us?”

“I don’t drink, but I’ve already eaten some edibles. I’m high as fuck.”

“High çanakkale escort enough to go to that bathroom over there with me?” she pointed to the small building.

“I thought you’d never ask!” She offered me her hand and helped me out of the spa. I felt a bit wobbly as we walked together to the bathroom.

“Hey!” her man called. “Where are you going?”

“We are going to the bathroom, obviously!”

“Wait. What are you going to do in there?”

“Go to the bathroom! What else?” she called back as she keyed into the women’s restroom. Once we were inside, she made sure to not only lock but deadbolt the door.

“Is he going to be okay out there by himself?” I asked, not wanting to cause problems in her relationship.

“He’ll be fine. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” She stared me down, her smile now a sly smirk as she moved closer to me to take what she wanted.

I gripped her by the shoulders, pulling her to me, our wet bikinis pressed together. I paused to look into her eyes before I kissed her. I had seen her kissing her boyfriend, but the way we were kissing was much more filled with passion and lust. I knew instantly that she was more into women than men. Maybe she was too young to understand herself and what she wanted, but perhaps I would be the one to show her.

My hands wandered all over her body. I reached into her wet bikini to feel the hardness of her nipples and the softness of her pussy. Her pussy was completely shaved, and I wondered if she shaved it all for that guy or if she did it for herself. My fingers hooked reflexively, knowing precisely what to do to make this girl cum. I secretly hoped that my fingers were much better at doing so than his dick.

She tried to stifle her moans, knowing that her boyfriend was right outside and that if he heard what we were doing, there would be hell to pay. He didn’t strike me as a nice person or a forgiving one. On the contrary, he seemed like more of the jealous, mean type that would make her suffer and pay dearly for this mistake if he found out.

I leaned in to kiss her again, and she kissed me back with the kind of hunger that made me want to please her more. I led her to the sink and pulled the ties on her bikini bottoms until they came right off in my hand.

“Sit up here,” I patted the counter, and she hopped up eagerly and took her spot, spreading her legs. Her cute, little smile was back, and I could see that she was still a bit drunk. I crouched between her legs, sticking a finger in before adding my tongue to her clit. Then, I hooked my finger back toward her G-spot and felt around, trying to find the best spot, the one that would make her lose her mind.

I finally found it, and I pressed down on her tender flesh as my tongue flicked at her clit with precision. Her legs were shaking, and though she tried not to make any noise, she couldn’t help but scream as her orgasm swept away everything but the pleasure. She tried her best to pull her pussy away, but I held her down, fingering and licking her as she trembled with enjoyment.

“Please! No more!” she begged me, trying to push me away. Her hands were on my head, but I didn’t stop. I wouldn’t let her move me away. Instead, she shuddered, succumbing to the orgasm I had evoked in her. Her body finally went limp, and she began to slide slowly off of the counter and onto me. Luckily, I was able to catch her and steady her on her feet. She held onto the counter for support, her legs still weak.

“How was that?” I asked, knowing what I had just done to her.

“That was…oh my God! I’ve never done anything like that!”

“Really? You’ve never been with a girl before?”

“Oh, yeah, I mean, I’ve done that. I mean, I’ve never cum like that çankırı escort before. Where did you learn to do that?”

“My boyfriend and I are swingers. You should come hang out with us sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

“I can get your number when we go back out there; maybe we can meet up again,” I suggested.

“I didn’t get a chance to lick your pussy,” she smiled at me.

“Do we have time?” I asked, knowing her boyfriend would probably come looking for her if she was gone too long.

“How about just one little lick?” she looked up at me with longing, and so I pulled my bikini bottoms off and watched as she knelt in front of me and began to play with my pussy with her fingers. It felt nice, but when she added her tongue, I could feel all the passion inside of her. This was the actual reason that I was attracted to her. It wasn’t her sexy body or her beautiful smile; it was her soul. She had the soul of a swinger, and I loved that about her. I wanted to exploit her and use her for all that she was worth.

I thought about presenting her to my boyfriend, sharing my prize with him. I wanted to watch him fuck her pussy as I fucked her face, grinding my pussy all over her mouth until it was all she could taste and feel. I wanted to make her cum so many times that she lost count. I wanted her to crave me, beg for me, and submit to me.

I came hard, my pussy spasming as her tongue darted in and out of my hole. She wasn’t afraid to really get in there, and she didn’t mind being a good girl and licking my pussy. She was perfect. I stroked her hair as I came again, and then I motioned for her to stop.

“Thank you. That was amazing!” I exclaimed breathlessly.

“I can keep going if you want!” she said eagerly.

“I think we better get back out there. I don’t want your boyfriend to lose his shit.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she admitted, and I saw her frown for the first time.

“Don’t worry, we can hang out again soon.”

“Okay,” she agreed, and I gave her one last tender kiss before we got our bikinis back on the way they were supposed to be. Then, I opened the door for her so I could watch her ass sway as she walked.

“What took you so long?” her boyfriend asked as we made our way back to the pool. It was dark now, and I noticed that someone else was now in the pool area and getting into the spa.

“What’s your number?” I asked the girl, and she took my phone from my hands to add in her number.

“Thanks. I have to go now, but I’ll text you,” I promised.

“Okay.”

“Bye!” I called to her boyfriend, who simply grunted in response to me.

“Don’t be rude, babe! Say goodbye!” she demanded.

“No! I don’t have to say goodbye if I don’t want to.”

“I’m sorry he’s so rude,” she apologized.

“Don’t be. I know how men can be.”

“Right?” she remarked, and we both giggled.

“I’ll text you soon,” I said as I finally made my way out of the gate and back to my apartment.

By the time I got home, I realized how high I really was. Maybe I had eaten too many gummy bears, or perhaps it was just the right amount. I peeled my damp suit from my body and relived what had just happened with the hot Hispanic girl at the pool. I hadn’t even gotten her name, but when I opened my phone to check her number, she had typed in her name, which was Julie.

My phone suddenly rang, and I jumped, startled by the sudden noise. I was hoping that it was Julie, but it was my boyfriend.

“Hey, baby!” I cooed.

“You sound happy!”

“I am! I met a girl.”

“Oh? Tell me about her,” he encouraged me. I told him the whole story, and it turned into the closest thing to phone sex my boyfriend and I have ever had. I could tell he was excited to get home so he could meet Julie. I hadn’t asked her if she was open to fucking my boyfriend, but I was pretty sure I could convince her and corrupt her in any way I desired. I was feeling on top of the world, excited about a pretty girl I’d fucked in the pool bathroom. The day had definitely turned out better than I had planned.

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

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.

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My phone didn’t make a sound all day, which was not entirely out of the ordinary. I didn’t know whether to expect anything from Mikey. At work, I pushed back against this silence with indifference; already during the early-morning bus ride home I had cried at length, the front of my shirt no less than soaked in my sorrow. A meager assortment of riders had climbed on along the southbound stops, and I felt relief only because none came to sit near me.

It had been enough to carry me through the day. I made cheerful conversation with Jennifer about whose couch would be better-suited to our new living area. I slotted into my familiar productive groove and began clearing my desk of personal effects toward the end of the day.

I came home to a still, silent apartment and lay on my bed, the few items I had removed from the office spilling out around me. I looked at my phone, then placed it screen-down and scooted it across the blanket, over the edge. I heard it thud on the carpet below.

Mikey had fully respected my wish to be left alone, and maybe he wouldn’t have tried to contact me anyway. If he was upset then he probably wanted to be left alone, too.

I lacked the self-control necessary to keep memories at a distance, and they flooded me now–most of all: his bare feet out on the sand, t-shirt clinging to the taut skin of his chest, black hair kicking up in the warm wind. I thought of the way his smile, in that moment, offered up the slightest amount of vacancy, awaiting fulfillment by wonders soon to arrive. This behavior was innocent. It did not calculate. He waited like a child would wait, because he understood that he could not know what mysteries these wonders would hold before their time.

With my head against the pillow, I looked up at the ceiling and started to cry again for the first time since early that morning. I imagined him alone now, wishing he could contact me but believing it to be something I didn’t want. I remembered his plea, about how happy being together made him, and how he didn’t want it to stop. He had described the feeling as a simple one, and he had been right.

But it didn’t matter. I knew myself, and I knew what it would take for me to stay. Mikey was quick to admit to (and could probably have listed, had I asked) the things that scared him. I was frightened at least as much by other things, but they were more difficult to lay to paper, and whereas his fears were cause for me to stay, my own were the driving force in my departure.

The radio silence would last through the rest of the night. I got along by cooking dinner, then throwing myself into packing the apartment, chiseling out a significant portion of the job before I realized that if I continued at this rate, there would be nothing left to distract me on Thursday and Friday. I wanted to go to bed, but the hour was not suitably late and I knew I wouldn’t sleep. I read until I could not focus anymore.

Whatever experience Mikey and I had shared, I stood just barely outside of it now. I had minimally but effectively decoupled myself from it. For a precious couple of minutes, I saw our relationship for that to which it amounted; it did not feel like a lifetime now, nor could it be compressed down to a single whirlwind day. Several weeks brought together two compatible people, each interested in the other, interesting to the other, to a decidedly extreme degree.

Objectivity was helpful now in a way, but I did not feel especially comforted by it, and I got the sense that it wasn’t accessing something important–some overarching essence of what it was to be in the same place as him. After preparing for sleep I lay on my side, slightly off to the right portion of the bed. There was room left over for Mikey to lay facing me, and it was not hard to imagine it now. The feeling of assurance as his eyes looked deeply into mine from the other pillow, as our fingers fluttered lightly against one another’s between us was powerful and complete.

His absence and his silence now dug into me. I had no less than demanded it, and I knew with some amount of incredulity that if I did nothing, Mikey would be gone, silenced forever. I had asked for it, and there was no doubt in my mind that he would honor it. This truth rattled me; I tucked up my knees, pulling my feet close to the rest of my body, and remembered nothing else besides crying in prolonged, wrenching sobs until I fell asleep.

I rode the bus into the city the next morning, imagining what it was like for Mikey to be driving alone in his car for yet another day. I wondered how quickly he would return to this groaning, shuddering beast once he knew for sure that I was gone. I hoped it would be easy for him to come back to it, to sit alone, smiling to himself from time to time, content in his quiet productivity, just as he had been before we ever met. I hoped he would soon feel calm and happy, back on his own, more aware of his own identity, and free.

By the end of the day, the thought of returning to my small, upended home was not escort pendik yet bearable, so I did not text or call ahead, just departed from the 40 as usual and then crossed under the highway toward my parents’ house. It would occur to me later that I had not showed up unannounced at their home in some time, and at first I could not comprehend my mom’s surprise when I walked through the front door and began removing my shoes.

“How’s packing going? Oh, and this was your last day downtown,” she said. “Are you feeling overwhelmed at all?”

I took long enough to respond, stepping slowly over to the couch and resting my chin on my hands, that I was certain she sensed something was amiss already. “It’s not the packing, Mom, or work. How is work going for you?”

She cleared her throat and said, “It’s pretty good.” She then came over and sat next to me. “Tell me what’s wrong, sweetie.”

I leaned against her, feeling very much like I needed to cry again, but holding it back. “It’s been hard saying goodbye. Actually…it just didn’t work. It fell apart. I think it’s done.”

She knew whom I referred to without asking and said nothing in response; she knew, too, that I would continue on my own after enough time. Her hair tickled my neck and I felt a thin curtain of safety rise up around me, blocking everything out except for her and the sunlight pouring in through the front window.

“When I left his place yesterday morning,” I began slowly, “he didn’t say much. He was crying, and he said something about how he didn’t think it would ever end up like this. He said some things that I don’t understand, and some things I don’t agree with. But I agreed with him when he said that.”

“Oh no. Did the two of you argue?”

I nodded. “He wants me to stay, Mom. He wants it so bad, and I kept thinking that it was so selfish of him. He always said he would support my decision to go. But when I was leaving, he just looked so sad that I couldn’t see anything else–not selfishness, and nothing else he would be playing at. I don’t think he operates that way. All I could see was his sadness. He was, like, shivering, Mom. It was very cold in the room. And he even said it–he said, ‘I am so sad,’ like that was the only thing he had left to say.”

Her body shifted against me. “Wyatt, has he committed himself to you?”

“No.” I paused. “Well, sometimes it feels like he kind of already did, in a way, but he can’t say it. I don’t think he could promise me anything like that, even if I wanted him to.”

“You don’t want him to?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t think so. It’s been a month, Mom. I’m not sure it’s right to even be asking for any kind of promises.” After saying this I waited for her response, but she offered none, and although she had turned toward me, I could not tell how she felt from her expression. “What do you think about that?” I asked.

“A lot of people say this,” she started. “I think it’s true, though. Every situation is different. Everyone is an individual. I can’t tell you if a month is long enough, or too short a time for anything. I haven’t lived in your experience with him. I don’t know.”

I waited to continue, gathering an inclination together in my mind which seemed simple in a way, but was difficult for me to articulate. “I think it kills me just as much to leave him as it kills him that I’m going…but still, we came up with two different decisions about it.”

She nodded. “It’s weird how things like that happen sometimes, isn’t it?” She hesitated for a moment. “And there’s no chance you could keep seeing him while you live up there?”

I took a long time to answer her, finally lowering my head and muttering, “I just can’t have it that way. I don’t want it. I don’t know why.”

“Some people just aren’t built for that, and it’s okay. I certainly don’t think I could do it.”

“In my last relationship, I was willing to try it.” I paused and looked up at her. “Remember that?”

“I do. Maybe you’ve changed. I’m tempted to say change like that is more common at your age, but people can change at any time in their life. Or maybe it’s just that you see it differently with Mikey. Maybe it’s all or nothing with him.”

“I guess so,” I said. I thought for a moment. “Part of what bothered him was me letting on that I had some serious doubts about my career, then deciding to go through with the move anyway.” I glanced over at her, anticipating her surprise–I rarely ever really talked to her about my job–but she barely reacted at all. “On top of everything,” I continued, “he believes I’m not being true to myself if I go.”

“He can’t really say if you are or you aren’t. Only you will know that.”

“Yeah, I know. But it doesn’t mean he shouldn’t have brought it up, if it’s how he feels.”

“Alright, yes, I see that, too. Look, sweetie, I got a particular feeling from the two of you the other night. It seemed like you were awfully close…and it seemed like a good thing istanbul escort to me.” She stopped and looked me in the eyes. “I’m just wondering if it’s going to make you incredibly sad not to be around him. I believe in the potential for another person’s presence to affect how happy you are. I know you probably already know that, but please consider it as you make your decision.”

“I did consider it. And I think I have already,” I said.

“Wyatt, I need you to tell me this, because I’m worried you’re holding it back from me. Are you are missing him as much as I would imagine you are?”

“I’m not sure that it’s had time to sink in yet,” I said. This was mostly a lie and there was no reason for me to have said it. “Everything just feels so quiet and empty right now.”

I stopped talking, aware that I had shared more of myself with her in this one conversation than in all of the weeks leading to it. She was right; I missed Mikey so much that I felt ill. I nearly rejected the thought of having said goodbye to him forever. I began to consider the full gravity of it again, took one more look at my mom and started to cry.

She brought me into her arms, hugging me tightly and said, “I know.” I believe she began to cry then as well. “I know, I know,” she kept saying, aware, as some people are in these situations, that sometimes there is nothing else to say.

After a moment, when we had both calmed down a bit, she gripped my arm within her small hands and said, “Wyatt, I have something I need to tell you. But first I need to say that I know I haven’t been very emotionally available.”

“Come on, Mom, you’ve been–“

“No, just let me say this now. There have been times when you’ve wanted to talk about something and I’ve been distant with you, because whatever you brought up was making me encounter my own problems and I didn’t like it. You want an example of selfishness–well that’s it. All I can tell you is that I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for that, Mom.”

She shook her head. “Yes I do. You won’t change my mind. Wyatt, the last time we talked about your career was before it ever started–your senior year of college, over the winter break. You had some considerable doubts, and I told you to stick to it. I don’t think I really said anything else. It destroys me because…” She paused and looked for a moment like she was about to cry again. She let go of me and straightened herself up. “It destroys me now because I had doubts about my own career back then, but made up my mind to ignore them. My only way to hold onto that conviction was to tell you to do the same. I feel responsible in that way, and it’s very painful for me.”

“It’s not that simple,” I told her. “I respected what you told me then. I still do. And besides, you aren’t the only factor when I make those decisions. You must know that.”

“I do know that. But I still feel responsible. I’ll get over it eventually, but right now I just need you to know that I’m sorry. I put myself before you at that time. It’s the worst thing a parent can do to their child.”

“That’s overdoing it a little. You gave me advice, that’s all.”

“I gave you self-interested, and therefore bad advice.”

I managed a laugh. “Fine. If that’s how you really feel, then I accept your apology.”

She smiled at me. “Okay, well I’ll keep this brief, because it’s not about me right now, but next week will be my last at the hospital. I’m taking your advice and pursuing my passion. I’m doing it for me, and no one else.”

“Oh my god. Are you kidding me? That is such good news, Mom.”

“I wanted to tell you right away, yesterday, when I finally went through with it, but I figured with everything you have going on that I should wait.”

“No you shouldn’t,” I said. “I’m just so happy for you.”

“Well, thanks, sweetie.” She gave me a hug and then sat back. “I can’t believe I actually did it. Your little old mom takes care of business.” She laughed, but before long some of the excitement had faded from her face. “You know, I really don’t like to see you cry, Wyatt. Not like you did today. I just can’t stand it.”

“I know. This makes me feel better, though.”

“So, will you think about it?”

“Think about what?”

She paused, laying her hands in her lap. “Think about what I did to make myself happy, and be sure that whatever you choose is going to make you happy.”

I sat very still, staring at her for a moment. “Alright, Mom, I can try to do that.”

She begged me to stay for dinner, but I insisted that I wasn’t hungry.

“You’re just like me,” she said. “Your appetite vanishes when you’re stressed. It’s okay.”

I promised her I would eat something later on.

That night I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel much of anything. I packed meticulously, tetrising over half of my belongings with great care into boxes and milk crates, following a methodical order of importance which would aid future retrieval.

“Do you own a television?” escort kurtköy Jennifer texted around nine.

“Yes. I’ll bring it up,” I replied.

I left for a nearby corner store, where I purchased a small dinner and one felt-tipped marker. After eating I slowly, carefully labeled the containers with general respect to their contents. By ten o’ clock I forced myself to stop everything, concerned that there would be nothing left to do the next day.

Before falling asleep, I attempted to clear my mind of all thoughts, but settled for new imaginings of my mom, upstairs in my old bedroom–now her sewing room–smiling and working away.

The next day I realized I would have been much better off working through Friday. I tried to slow myself down as I continued boxing and labeling, to become even more methodical, more meticulous, but I could only take it so far. I had too much time on my hands, and pounced on my phone once I noticed Marie had texted. She had just finished up at work and asked if I needed help packing, or at least some company.

“I could use some company,” I replied. “I’ll borrow my mom’s car and pick you up at Southgate if you want.”

She didn’t respond to this, which was her customary way of deflecting offers. She showed up at the door an hour and a half later.

We hugged and she began poking around the apartment like a cat in a newly-discovered room. “Oh, wow,” she said. “I haven’t been here in too long. I’m a little sad to see it in this state.”

I sat on the edge of my bed and listened to her remark at the packed containers, as well as a few larger items that would be carried out individually.

“Oh, Wyatt, remember this couch? Remember your record player?” she asked, lifting the transparent lid on its hinge and then setting it back down.

“Yes, I remember them,” I said with a small smile. “I live here.”

“I just can’t believe you won’t be in the city anymore.”

“Me neither, Marie.”

She regarded me in complete silence for a moment and then sat down on the edge of the couch nearest me, crossing her legs. “Please tell me how things are.”

I sighed. “I let myself feel it all, Marie. I did what you said.”

“And what happened?”

I invoked a miniature explosion with my hands. “The battle. Like you told me. It happened two days ago. And in the end, moving away won out.” My voice quivered now. “I think I lost him, Marie. I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again.”

“Oh no. That’s not good. I told you to give each a fair shot.”

“I tried, Marie. I really think I did.”

“I take it you’re not talking to him now? Have you been thinking about him?”

“I’ve been trying not to.”

“Stop that,” she said. “It’s not giving him a fair shot.”

“I know. You keep saying that. But he’s not ready for a relationship with me. He won’t call me his boyfriend, and I don’t know how to feel secure in him sticking around. The only way he could ever be worth…you know, not leaving, is if I knew for certain that things with him would last.”

She smirked. “Well, let’s ignore that fact that you can’t know that yet, and maybe not ever, no matter what he says. Do you really need him to say he’ll be your boyfriend to feel secure with him? Do you actually think he won’t get there? The guy seems to like you an awful lot–I mean, this bleeds with irony right now. You’re worried about commitment from him, when he’s the one begging you to stay.”

I frowned at this, then drew in a slow breath. “In a way, I just wish he could put aside the raw feeling of wanting me to stay, and stop to consider that I’ll be losing my job. I’ll have nothing. What does he want me to do–go back to my summer job? And where the fuck will I live? I can’t get it out of my head that it’s a selfish point of view on his part, and I didn’t know he could be that way.”

She paused. “Maybe it’s not so much about whether he’s worth it, or not worth it, or whether he’s selfish or not. I think it has more to do with you and your personal needs. Take a look at your job. If you move to keep it, who are you doing that for? I really hope you’re doing it for yourself, and no one else. I’m a little skeptical about that part, to be perfectly honest with you. Now, if you stay to be with Mikey, I’m pretty sure you’d be doing it at least as much for yourself as for him. Probably more.”

“Oh god, Marie. How do I even figure that out for sure? Jesus, maybe you’re right. I don’t know.”

“Maybe I’m not,” she said. “Maybe this is just the disturbing form my eleventh-hour pleading has chosen to take on. See? Everybody’s fighting to get what they want. We’re all selfish, Wyatt. I think it’s doable to just accept that about people, and chase after what you want. Keep others in mind, but also keep looking out for number one.”

I smiled a little. “Right. Riding a train and two busses clear across the city to help a friend in his time of need–that’s really selfish, Marie.”

She stayed silent, smiling and shrugging. I went over the couch, sat down next to her and pulled her into a long hug. She patted my shoulder and said, “Everything will be okay, Wyatt.”

“Marie,” I said shakily, “I mean, if I…fuck. If I actually don’t go, then every second passing right now is just pointless torture for him. How can I live with myself knowing that?”

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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[Disclaimer: None of the names mentioned herein are those of real people. The events described are fictionalized experiences and extrapolated fantasies from my college days. Additionally, I do not in any way intend to imply that the scenarios described are typical of what occurs at a women’s college. They are simply typical of me.]

When I tell men that I attended a women’s college, they usually say, in a voice heavy with innuendo, “I’ve heard about what goes on at those girl’s schools.” But what they imagine is from their masculine perspectives and fantasies, and so it is lacking in depth and breadth, not to mention out of touch with reality. They imagine lesbian sex going on between busty sorority girls with brazilian waxes in every room of every dormitory. They imagine the occasional lucky man tied to some girl’s bed with women lining up at the door for a chance at him. But the reality is much subtler and far more interesting. Most of the girls at women’s colleges are incredibly intelligent, the cream of the crop intellectually. Most of them are studious and driven: they had to work hard for the grades and test scores to get there. Some of them are from priviledged families, but more and more, the student body has become a cross-section of cultures, races, and socio-economic strata. And most of the girls there are hetero. I figure that a minimum of one in ten are lesbian, and of the remaining 90%, probably one in five is willing to experiment, like I was.

While I was curious, I didn’t start experimenting until my Junior year. Early on, I’d found a boyfriend with a fascinating mind, an amazing mouth, a thick cock, and a willingness to learn to use them to maximize my enjoyment of him, and his of me. But Drew went off to grad school three hours away, and we commenced a weekend-only physical relationship that was insufficient to my needs and his. We admitted this to each other and spoke of breaking up, but there was love there between us, and we did not want to end our relationship because of distance. Yet, both of us were highly-sexed and neither of us appreciated the fact that when we got together all we did was fuck like rabbits. Whenever we saw each other, the sexual tension was so intense that even when we tried to go out and do things as a couple like we used to before he moved away, we ended up having sex. Restaurants, concert halls, parks, stairwells, swimming pools, class rooms, libraries, stores–it didn’t matter. Our eyes would meet, or our hands would touch, and that urge to copulate would surge irresistably through us.

We spoke several times a week, and one day, after a couple of months of separation, Drew spoke longingly of his attraction to some of the women he saw almost daily. I told him he should ask them out. He said that it would not be fair. When I asked him why, he said because it would not be fair for him to have sex but not me. I remarked that it would not take me long to find another partner, and told him of the dates I’d turned down. I’ve never been a sexually jealous person and the thought of him with someone else did not bother me–my only concerns were that he practice safe sex if he did sleep with someone else, and that he tell me about it, preferably beforehand. But Drew was not like me in that, and the thought of me with another man drove him nuts. So we dropped the subject.

Soon afterwards, a solution presented itself in the form of one of the women in my house. Pilar was openly bi-sexual and quite a hot little number. She’d been hitting on me for two years, and at the beginning of our junior year, she’d begun doing things like sitting on my lap and feeding me bits of food, and slipping her arms around my neck and nuzzling me so I could smell the scent of the woman she’d just been with on her face. We went out dancing with a group one night as a stress-break from mid-terms and she seduced me. It was beautiful and exciting and exhausting. The following morning I called Drew to confess what I had done. I expected a jealous outburst, but what I got instead was a barrage of questions. He admitted that the thought of me and Pilar together was very arousing, and we had phone sex as I described what had occurred the night before:

I left the lab at about 10pm on Friday night, utterly exhausted. My partner and I had been running PCR and gel electrophoresis on DNA from Brugia malayi for a project involving the development of a biological assay for diagnosis of lymphatic filariasis. I’d missed the traditional Friday high tea and dinner as well, so I was intent on finding something to eat and getting a few hours sleep before I got back to work, this time on a lit paper that was due Monday morning.

When I let myself into the house, there were a few men and a dozen women in the living room. One of them was Pilar. bayburt escort She was wearing a little black skirt and a black vest, both of which showed off her golden skin marvellously. At first glance it looked like she was wearing a silk-screened tank under her vest, but she wasn’t. She and Serena had painted the skin of her torso, front and back. She removed the vest to show me their handiwork, and I was impressed, not only by the artistry, but by the bounce of her breasts. Such perky little breasts.

They cajoled me into going out with them. Pilar dragged me upstairs and shoved me into the shower, and while I was showering, she picked out my clothes. I balked at wearing a summer-weight dress in late October, but she reminded me that we’d be dancing at the Black Pearl, and we would be working up a sweat. When I finished dressing and looked at myself in the mirror so I could fix my hair, I groaned. Pilar had chosen a push-up-push-out bra to wear with the dress and I was showing some serious cleavage. Which meant that guys at the club were going to think I was available, when I wasn’t. Pilar wouldn’t hear of me changing, so I sighed, then pinned my hair up to keep it off my neck and out of my way on the dancefloor. Forgoing stockings, I slipped into some flats, grabbed a wrap, and away we went.

The Pearl was packed. Locals and people from all five colleges in the area were there because it was one of the few places that the under-21 crowd could go with friends who were of legal drinking age. The Friday-night DJ always played good dance music and this night was no exception. The group of us pushed our way onto the dance floor upstairs and started shaking it. Pilar had an amazing little gymnast’s body and she had some serious moves. I remember seeing her dancing with Serena and Melody, watching her weave her body around them like a cat. I loved it when she grabbed Melody’s mane of waist-length blonde hair and bent her backwards, exposing her midriff. Pilar’s golden hand played across Melody’s belly as she pumped her body against the taller woman’s back, hips rocking, breasts bouncing, lips trailing along the exposed throat. It was a very sexually charged moment, and I got hot just watching them. I think everyone did.

We danced for hours, letting off our mid-term stress. Pilar paired off with me several times, and inevitably she ended up grinding herself against my thigh or slipping her own thigh between my legs, bumping against my pubis. She was making me crazy; I hadn’t seen Drew for two weeks and I was so sexually frustrated I was ready to hump my bedpost even before I went out dancing. Every brush of her body against mine sent a zing of pleasure through me. Mmm, yes, all that bumping and grinding to the powerful bass grooves on the dance floor was making me wild.

At one point Pilar worked her way down my body and back up, her fingertips trailing along the backs of my thighs, sending shivers through me and making my nipples harden. Her eyes fixed on my breasts on the way up and she pressed her lips to my cleavage, her tongue snaking out to taste my skin. I gasped at the sensation. A moment later, her mouth was just inches from mine. Her hand slipped up the back of my neck and she pulled me toward her, kissing me full-on. It was probably a brief kiss, but it seemed to last several minutes. When her mouth opened and her tongue sought mine, I met it. She slipped her arms around my neck and arched her body against me, purring, then broke away, putting distance between us, dark eyes dancing in a merry face.

We closed the place down, then stumbled up the hill to our houses. Some of the girls paired off with each other. One of the boys got lucky; the other one who had been with us headed home, alone. Serena and her boyfriend asked Pilar to join them for a three-way, but she declined. Instead, she linked her arm in mine and we kept walking. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, afterall, we lived in the same house. We walked the solo girl to her house and made sure she was safely inside before we turned back to our own, just a few blocks away.

Pilar unlocked the front door and held it open for me to preceed her. I, in turn, pulled open the entry door. As she passed me, she let her fingers trail along my back and waist. Her touch sent an electric thrill through me, making me hyper-aware of my skin and the moistness between my legs. Our eyes met and without a word, she took my hand and lead me up the stairs, stopping on the third floor landing. My room was on the fourth floor.

Pilar raised my hand and pressed her mouth to my wrist. Her nostrils flared and I could feel her breath on my skin. “I can smell you,” she said.

I blushed deeply. I was breathing fast, and it wasn’t from the walk bilecik escort up. I was damp, and it wasn’t from sweating. Pilar had teased me all night and I was in such a state that I was quivering inside. But I had no idea what, if anything, I should do. I hadn’t touched another girl since I was 11 or 12 years old.

She smiled at me and tugged on my hand. “Stay with me tonight?” she asked. Her voice was sultry, her normally slight British accent more pronounced. Her eyes were beautiful and lustrous, long-lashed, and so dark they were almost black. Her eyes drew me and I fell into them, willingly.

“I might,” I said the first thing that came to mind. “If you kiss me.”

Another smile, this one slow and meaningful. She ran her tongue across her lips as she stepped nearer. Her fingers followed the neckline of my dress upwards, teasing my bare skin, making my nipples rise. She put both of her hands on my shoulders and stood up on tip-toe to kiss me. It was a soft kiss, just a brush of her lips, really. It was tantalizing, a vivid reminder of the kiss we had shared earlier on the dance floor, making me want more.

‘Again!’ something in my mind cried. As she pulled away I ran my hands up her arms and cupped her head, tilting it back. I pressed my lips to hers, firmly. She opened her mouth to me, but I ignored the invitation, nibbling and sucking on her bottom lip, instead.

She moaned and sighed, and breaking away, practically dragged me toward her room. Once inside, she began undressing me, her mouth kissing every bit of flesh that she exposed. When she freed my breasts from the bra she ran her hands along the undersides, cupping them. Her hands were so small and my breasts so large in comparison, but she somehow managed to trap my nipples between her thumb and forefinger while still cradling them. A little bit of pressure and she had me gasping, pleasure singing along my nerve-endings. My skin pebbled under the sensory onslaught of her hands and her mouth. She pushed me backwards onto her bed and stepped out of her skirt, and then she was on me.

We touched each other, fingers exploring. It was such a wonder to me, the way she felt under my fingertips, the way she moaned and gasped–no rough rumbling from her–no, she was a bundle of breathy cries just waiting to escape her throat. I have no idea when my nervousness left me, but it did, driven out by such powerful longing for this little spitfire from Belize. Her body pressing into mine was a mass of contrasting sensations and expectations. Her skin was cool in some places and very warm in others. It was silky soft and hairless, so different from Drew’s. Her cheeks were smooth, instead of stubbly. She was rounded and soft instead of angled and hard.

She lay atop me, her groin pressing into mine, rocking against my clit, making me gasp and writhe. Her mouth explored my face, her tongue tracing the curve of my upper lip. She could not seem to keep her hands away from my breasts for long. She bounced them and kneaded them, pulled on the long nipples, sensitizing me to the point that every brush of her fingertips sent stars shooting behind my eyes. She shifted a bit, straddling my thigh, and her mouth on my throat was hot, so liquid hot, that I felt branded by it. Her teeth nipped at my skin, making me moan and shiver. My hands rose, fingers tangling in her hair, and that beautiful chin-length silken blackness felt soooo amazing to me, such a source of sensuous delight, that it brought tears to my eyes.

She was slow and tender and yet so hot and passionate. Her thigh pressed rhythmically on my mound as she rocked herself against me, her hips dancing against me as they had at the Pearl. I could feel the brush of her pussy against the top of my own thigh, a moist teasing tickle. I lifted my leg a little, pressing it up into her, and she moaned, her breath puffing against my skin. She dipped her tongue into the hollow at my throat, then slid farther down on my body, leaving a trail of kisses behind as she worked her way to my left breast. Her pussy skidded hard against my thigh in the same moment that her mouth enveloped my nipple. Both were hot and wet and slippery, and combined with the intense stimulation of my nipple, the duality of the sensations over-stimulated me. I was full-body blinded for a few seconds: seeing nothing, feeling nothing, utterly blue-screened. I think I even forgot to breathe.

I needed a change, a break from the intensity, so I moved out from under her, laying on my side. She joined me and we lay facing each other, her head pillowed on my arm. With my fingertips, I traced the outline of her body, the curve of shoulder and waist and hip. I found myself loving the golden tone of her skin, which seemed so rich a colour bingöl escort when contrasted against my own pale flesh. I admired the paint upon her skin, letting my fingers to trace the sinuous abstract designs that served to camouflage her nudity. Again, my hand swept down along her curves, and when I reached her hip, Pilar shivered and made a little sound in her throat. She took my hand and parted her thighs, pressing my fingers against her. It was very foreign and yet oddly familiar, the feel of her. I had this odd flash in my mind, the thought that if I had no feeling from the waist down, this is what it would feel like if I touched myself.

Pilar moved to lay on her back with one knee raised and tangled the leg nearest me between my own. Again, her hand sought mine, and again she pressed my hand against her mound, this time curling my fingers into her, pressing them between her labia, whispering, “Please… Please touch me, Kay.”

God! She was liquid in her core, so hot and slippery that I sucked my breath in between my teeth. I marvelled at how wet she was, giddy with the knowledge that this was what my lovers felt when they touched me. Before I knew it, I had raised my fingers to my nose. I inhaled deeply of her scent. She smelled quite different from me, musky and fleshy to my ginger and floral. I slipped a finger into my mouth. Piquant. Tangy. Different from mine, but not really, just stronger. More intense. Oralgasmic.

“You taste incredible,” I said breathlessly.

I pressed my fingers to her mouth, smearing her juices across her lips, wanting to share it with her. She moaned and took my fingers into her mouth, sucking on them. Amazing! I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation of her tongue flicking across my fingertips. Warm and slippery against my fingertips. Like her pussy was. I slowly pulled my fingers from her mouth and ran them down her body, giving each nipple a squeeze as I made my winding way back to that enticing, moist, hot-spot at the juncture of her thighs.

I touched my mouth to hers as I dipped my fingers back between her labia. She moaned and lifted her hips, pressing them upwards, against my hand. Her mouth opened under mine, her tongue seeking urgently, penetrating me, searching for my tongue. I let it glide against hers, teasing her in the same way my fingers were teasing her, dancing around the opening to her vagina, tapping there, occasionally pressing just the tips of my fingers along the inner lining.

Her body was in constant motion next to mine, twitching and rocking. She whimpered and moaned into my mouth, turning up the sexual charge, making me ache inside. ‘So this is what it is like for my lovers when they pleasure me, ‘ I thought, revelling in her abandonment.

I sent my thumb searching for her clit, and found it with some difficulty, even though I knew exactly where to go. ‘Such a little thing,’ I thought to myself, thinking of my own clit. ‘Big anatomical difference there.’

Any other thoughts I might have had fled my mind as Pilar jolted and cried out when my thumb grazed her clit. She took my head in both her hands and kissed me hard, sucking my tongue into her mouth. I tapped her clit a few times with my thumb and then slid my first two fingers deep inside her. Her body went rigid and she broke the kiss, throwing her head back over my arm.

“Yes! God yes! Like that… Just….like…that!”

I pumped my fingers in and out of her, giving an extra little bouncing push when I could go no further. She was unbelievably hot and wet inside. Feeling the incredible liquid warmth of her vagina, I understood why men seemed so single-mindedly intent on getting inside women. If it felt this good with my fingers, I could only imagine how intense it would be with a cock. I felt a new appreciation for Drew’s self-control and promised myself I would not get angry at him the next time he came too soon. Hell, I was ready to come just from the feel of my fingers inside her.

I leaned my head forward and took Pilar’s bottom lip into my mouth, sucking on it. I pressed my thumb more firmly onto her clit and rubbed it in a circular motion, jamming my fingers as deeply as I could into her. I hooked my fingers in under her pubic bone, there, on that small rough spot on the top of her vagina and rocked her whole body with the motion of my arm.

Pilar dragged in a deep breath and held it, her body arching as she came, her vaginal muscles clamping down on my fingers, fluttering wildly. Her legs kicked out and she let out her breath in short, sharp little gasps.

“Oh god… Fuck… Oh! Oh! Ah!”

A final forceful jolt of her hips against my hand and then she collapsed against the mattress, her chest heaving. I slowly slipped my fingers out of her and rested my hand on her belly. She tore her hair away from her sweaty face and looked up at me.

“I thought you’d never been with a woman before, ” she gasped.

I looked into her eyes, and a dark memory surfaced, only to be banished immediately.

“Not like this,” I said honestly. “Not at all like this.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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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.

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

My first attempt at a short story: one that’s romantic in nature, but yet hot and primal, too. Hope you all enjoy.

I’m always the first to wake in the morning; he’s the heavy sleeper. I look over at him and take him in, sleeping peacefully, with his gorgeous body on display. His muscles, curves, hair, skin, they’re all so hot. I feel so lucky to be in bed next to him.

I give him a gentle nudge, trying to get him to wake up. He slowly stirs, looks at me and then smiles. We share a kiss and caress each other a bit, just basking in the moment.

“Good morning, baby”, he says to me.

“Good morning, Daddy”, I reply back.

After a brief yawn and a stretch, he takes me by the hand, pulls me out of bed, and walks with me to the bedroom mirror. There we are, naked, both of our cocks erect with morning wood, pointing straight up at the ceiling. His – long, thick, and hairy; mine – much smaller in comparison, and shaved completely bare. It’s become somewhat of a morning ritual to do this, just as a reminder of his dominance over me.

It’s not unusual for him to turn me around so he can get a good look at my cute ass in the mirror, too.

“I love your ass, baby”, he whispers in my ear as he reaches down and kneads my tender flesh, followed by a spank on either cheek. I jump in surprise at the impact of his hand on my butt, and he just chuckles in amusement. “Is my little boy horny this morning?” he asks me as his fingers graze the underside of my penis, making it twitch and throb. “Sure looks like you are”, he laughs. “Well, Daddy’s horny too. I haven’t had escort kartal a release in a little bit, and I know just the thing I need to help me unload”, he says as he rubs my ass again. “Why don’t you get on your knees and give Daddy’s cock a kiss?”

I immediately comply and drop to my knees, and there’s Daddy’s cock, staring me straight in the face.

“Don’t be shy, baby, it won’t bite”.

I move my lips to his head and kiss it, then lightly swirl my tongue around it, briefly probing his peehole and making him moan. I always love how Daddy’s cock tastes in the morning. So sweet, yet salty. I open my mouth and start to take in his length, flicking my tongue against his shaft on the way down as he lets out another moan. He puts his hand on the back of my head as I begin bobbing up and down on his penis, sucking it for all it’s worth.

My hand moves to his balls and starts lightly fondling them; I know how much he loves having his balls played with. I can tell they’re swollen and full of warm cum, and I so badly want to feel it shoot into my mouth and into the back of my throat, but he abruptly stops me and says, “Hold on, I don’t wanna cum just yet, honey. I have something else in mind.”

He picks me up, takes me back to the bed, and lays me down on my back. Then he lifts my ass up into the air, and gently spreads me open. “Mmm there’s my favorite little boy pussy”, he grunts. I feel so exposed and vulnerable, yet hopelessly horny having my most intimate parts open to my daddy like this. He wastes no time, diving bayan escort right in tongue-first, starting with the outer ring of my anus and then working his way to my opening, probing it in and out expertly, in the way only he knows how to.

It feels so fucking good, but I want more. As if by instinct, he obliges, withdrawing his tongue for a moment, wetting his index finger with it, and gently sliding it inside me. As much of a slut as I am, the sheer size of Daddy’s cock warrants ample foreplay to get me ready for it. Plus, I think he just loves teasing me and making me beg for it. Once he’s worked up his first finger to the second knuckle, he wets another finger and pushes it in alongside the first, beginning to really stretch me out now.

“Does this feel good baby? You like it when Daddy fingerfucks you?”

“Oh god yes”, I moan back.

He begins to thrust his fingers in and out of me faster now. I feel like I could cum just from him doing this, but I know he has more in store for me. He pulls his fingers out of my ass and brings them up to my mouth, letting me lick my juices off them, before reaching over to the nightstand and grabbing a bottle of lube. He pours some over his throbbing cock and then gently speads some over my asshole, working it in and out ever so slightly with his finger.

“Are you ready baby?” he asks me.

I nod in approval, and he lines up his cock with my puckered hole, and slowly pushes against it. My asshole struggles to accomodate his member at first, even with the foreplay and the lube warming escort maltepe it up. He’s so big.

But finally, after some resistance, he’s got the tip in, and then before I know it, he’s completely inside of me, balls deep and bottoming out. We lock lips as his penis throbs deep inside my warm hole, almost as if it’s begging for him to begin thrusting his hips. He starts to do just that, rocking back and forth, sliding his length in and out of me. No words are spoken between us now, they’re not necessary at this point. It’s just me and my daddy, his cock penetrating me, making love to my ass, as we both grunt and moan together.

I wrap my arms around him and pull him closer to me, feeling the warmth of his body heat and his weight on top of me, as he pumps his cock in and out, in and out, in and out. I feel so full, so complete. He’s so big, so manly, and he is fucking me so, so, good. I wish I could savor this moment forever. He starts fucking me faster and begins to moan louder. I can feel him throbbing more and more inside me, so I know he’s gonna cum soon. God, I want him to cum inside me. I need him to cum inside me.

“Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good”, he manages to grunt out. “I’m gonna breed this little boy pussy, make it mine. You want that? You want Daddy to breed you?”

“Umf, yes Daddy, please. I want your cum inside me. Give it to me, Daddy. Cum in me.”

That sent him over the edge. His cock twitched and spasmed inside me as long ropes of cum shot deep into my ass, breeding my boy pussy. He kept pumping in and out until his balls were completely empty, and then he collapsed on top of me.

Our lips meet again, and then he whispers, “baby, you felt so good. I can’t wait to do this again.”

“Same here”, I reply with a giggle.

Exhausted and spent after a good fuck, we drift back to sleep, his cock still inside me.

I love my Daddy.

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