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Pt 1: Dr Zoptic: Infallibility

A burley fireman bounding out of the boxy Rescue Ambulance left the motor running. Though dazed and unable to move, I managed to hold an arm up, but found I couldn’t climb to my feet. I expected he’d grab my arm and lift me to my feet. Instead, he grabbed a leg and flipped me onto my belly. I tried to protest but could make no sound. I was about to face something I feared more than ridicule. I was about to be raped.

My brain was beclouded. Who was I? Why was I lying naked sprawled on the cold, hard concrete sidewalk in the Central Avenue Urban renewal district? As my brain fog cleared, I was Erica Ehrlich, a law student third year at Capitalland University. I had come to the urban renewal area to pick up my friend and roommate Dr Rebecca Barton who was now director of Instruction in Emergency Response to the Sick and Injured. The push – ahead – program had catapulted her to that august directorate in the University Hospital after her graduation from medical school.

She seemed little jittery when I dropped her off this morning.

Together since I started law school here in Capitalland, I behind her back, had a secret pet name for my roommate. I called her Zaftig, my plump little butterball. She would have been a little too stuck – up to appreciate the endearment intended by the Zaftig loan word, pronounced Zoptic which embraces the idea of her eye-catching rounded proportions. As interesting as that is, at the moment I had more to worry about than etymology.

I had walked in on an emergency response exercise. Mistaken for a crisis actress, I had been pummeled to the ground and injected with a sedative by med students.

Shadows were growing and streetlights were coming on when I parked my dented up blue junk heap around the corner from the disaster exercise site. As I exited my car, I slung the red scarf over my neck. Looking around I was spooked. The area was desolate broken glass everywhere as I walked by boarded up brick buildings whose walls abutted the sidewalk.

Turning the corner onto Central Avenue, I was blinded for an instant by the last burst of light from the setting sun cresting over a rise in the street. Suddenly out of the shadows, a burly man held one arm. When I struggled, I saw his fist fly up in my face. I was knocked off balance and fell to the pavement. I felt a tingle when a scissors cut away the sleeve of my red sweater.

Stupid thoughts came to mind. Damn, I pondered, that sweater was expensive. When Zaftig chided me about the expense, I told her “A red sweater, Dolly, I use to symbolize the passion I feel for my chosen profession.”

Zaftig shook her head. “You have such interesting ways to string sentences together that I can never tell when you’re putting me on.”

A blond haired woman, kneeling over me, mumbled some words of assurance, as she tore open the sleeve of my red sweater to bare my arm. I felt the pin prick of a needle in my arm. I found myself in a cloudy world on the edge of consciousness. I could see and feel everything around me, the cool air hardening my nipples, the course broken up sidewalk against my butt. I was unable to move a muscle.

I felt my penny loafers whisked off. While the obese man held my shoulders down, the blond female wielding sheep shears cut up the inside leg of my blue jeans on one side, then the other and swept dungarees and panties away. Then, she cut my red sweater down the middle. In a wink of an eye, with my sweater, camisole and bra cut off, except for the scarf, I lay naked on the cold hard sidewalk.

The curly dark hair of the male standing over me looking down came into focus. Leaning over to run a fingernail along the scar that went down the hollow of my breastbone, he grimaced, “I didn’t expect a freak show. I don’t remember examining any mutations this morning. Do you?”

Still kneeling at my side, the female mumbled some comforting words before she turned to lecture the male, “Pectoral excavatum occurs in every 300 — 400 births, mostly observed in males rather than females, possibly because the condition might be concealed by the development of female breast tissue. The condition warrants surgical intervention in extreme cases. This vertical surgical wound eh–healed well.”

Geeze, tonight, I didn’t expect to be dissected and put on display as part of a medical presentation I had heard before. I was looking forward to a pleasant dinner with Zaftig which would melt some of the icy frost that crept in between us and lead to some kiss and make up. Instead, I was stripped naked and treated to a medical lecture.

The man’s haughty voice boomed, “Are you some kind of medical encyclopedia?”

Called to the scene Zaftig, Dr Baton, fell to her knees crying, “How did I get a real casualty in a play mass disaster drill? Why is this happening to me?”

Happening to her? I wondered, but I’m the one whose clothes were cut away and left naked on the trabzon escort sidewalk.

Standing behind Zaftig, a tall thin woman, my size and weight, hands on her hips wearing a bright red scarf and sweater demanded payment. “I showed up and was on hand, even if Emergency Response hadn’t used this mutant,” the woman pointed at me, “instead of me.”

To either side of Dr Barton the two first year med students were babbling that “we couldn’t have known, she wasn’t an actor in the mass catastrophe in a bright red sweater and crimson scarf when she came out of nowhere at the corner. ‘The victim’ put up resistance. So, we cold — conked her.”

On the street Central Avenue, coming up behind Dr Barton, a burly capitol land firefighter in a blue utility uniform took charge, gruffly dismissed the med students, “I’m sure Dr Barton will give you ugh — an A+ for courage in face of adversity.”

Turning to the shrieking actress, the fireman ordered her to go up Central Avenue to the command center to collect her pay. “You got a free ride,” he told the actress as he squatted to take my pulse with his hand, “on someone else’s ticket. Collect your pay before I change my mind.”

Rising Zaftig thanked the fireman. “My head was about to burst from the cacophony of the blathering medical students, pleading innocence, ignorance and inexperience.”

Looking into my eyes, the fireman diagnosed, “no serious injuries. She’ll ache and be groggy for quite awhile.” Shaking his head, the firefighter, grunted, “Veteran’s Day Holiday weekend — I heard they’re returning Veterans Day to November 11th — next year, year after. Regardless, people, even in emergency services or medicine, like everybody else, get sloppy a – trying to stretch that three — day weekend into four days.”

“Bob, I’m a newly appointed director. In my job, there is no A+ for the effort in showing a brave face against adversity. I really can’t afford this on my record,” Zaftig pled, “What do we do now?”

Looking around, the Fireman sighed, “Everyone else took off. Time to scoot. We’ll call a report in anonymously. She’ll get picked up right away. We have to bury this story. Rescue service’s positive public image might be destroyed by an incident like this.”

As Zaftig walked away with the firefighter, she turned to look around before she asked, “What happened to her purse?”

“How long have you been around hospitals?” the firefighter snickered, “Everyone in a hospital is an opportunist. Forget it! You have to be more concerned with preserving the,” he snorted, “godly image of medicine. Remember, you’re supposed to be Dr Do — good — bee, the guy on TV. The doctor is always right!”

I might have interjected `or is that Dr Fair — Weathers — bee?’ if I could. Sprawled naked on the ground, woozy with a blow to my head and reeling from drugs that I had been injected with, I found myself gripped in laughter, though I couldn’t make any sounds.

The interchange reminded me of a discussion I had with Zaftig I called her, “Naïve!” I exclaimed, “It’s all about money. Your august medical profession even more so than mine. The Medical Establishment nests itself in its own charade.” With a smile, I tenderly touched her cheek, “Not to worry, we’re part of the same pretense. The money governs, Dolly.”

“What happened to her purse? Are you sure you didn’t see it?” Dr Barton repeated her question. The fireman waved a hand contemptuously to brush her off as they walked toward the boxy Rescue vehicle. A few instants later, the boxy Rescue ambulance paused near me. From the passenger side Zaftig peered out and sighed. Then, the vehicle took off.

I lay there in a daze. The Indian summer October sun was gone. The grey light of twilight dissolved into night. I was aware of everything going on around me — every distant footfall, every car whizzing by, but had no sense of time.

I expected that the whole charade was a prank. The emergency vehicle that had carried Zaftig away would return. She would hop down and throw a blanket on me, help me up, bring me home and we’d have a good yuck — yuck laugh about it. Our friend who fancies himself a director will use the incident to inspire a skin flick about this.

My relationship with Zaftig had bloomed so much so I allowed Zaftig to lick my hollow chest — “I never allowed anyone, to touch me there,” I cooed. Less self — conscious I with Zaftig’s help got a job at the hospital as an anatomical model.

Toward the end of second year, when stag-flation, spiralling rents and other prices forced me to contemplate cutting back from a full-time programme, Zaftig called to my attention pay given anatomical models. “I couldn’t,” I winced, “You don’t understand. I’m deformed. That’s why I work hard flipping burgers to pay you rent. I don’t want to live in a dorm, share a room and bathe in a communal shower.”

“You’re embarrassed,” Zaftig reminded me, tunceli escort “As a doctor I see naked people all day. Let me be the judge of whether your body is so grotesque that you need to be in a freak show. Make yourself comfortable. Disrobe! Take off your clothes — all of them,” She ordered, pointing to a chair, “Fold them neatly and stand tall.” She chuckled, “Didn’t your mother teach you: listen to the doctor? She’s always right!”

Mechanically obeying undressing to exhibit myself, I laughed. Despite her claims of professionalism, Zaftig’s focus locked upon my deep crevice in my chest bisected by a vertical surgical incision.

“Pectoral excavatum,” I winced as Zaftig, recovering from a pause, lectured running a fingernail along the scar from my belly button to my neck, “occurs in every 300 — 400 births, mostly observed in males rather than females, possibly because the condition might be concealed by the development of female breast tissue. The condition warrants surgical intervention in extreme cases. Your vertical surgical wound eh–healed well.”

When Zaftig placed her left hand on my back and her right on my breastbone at the low point in the concave curve between my breasts, I jumped. “I’m not hurting you. Am I?” I asked dispassionately.

“No,” I wiggled my shoulders to show Zaftig I could almost make opposite sides touch. “Other girls used to make fun of me in the locker and the shower. My saintly father threatened the family doctor with sending me to St Athena’s of the Holy Virgins Convent School to force the bastard to write gym excuses.” I looked up to the heavens with a crazy smile. “There were many virgins at St Athena’s?”

“I couldn’t tell,” Zaftig made cute repartee, “from all the dental impressions I noticed on mammary glands in the communal shower.”

Not long after Zaftig reluctantly accompanied me to a law school party in a downtown local bar. “If they knew you, a director in the University Hospital, dwell among the gods, my classmates would,” I chided Zaftig, “fear you’ll rat them out to their own clay gods, the law profs.” We returned home drunk. Zaftig stripped off in front of me. I followed her dazzling fleshy curves into the shower, pinned her against the shower wall, crushing her double D breasts into the tiles, and kissed her backbone from her neck to the small of her back and then started to lather her butt.

“Five nerves that exit from the lower lumbar and upper sacral spine,” Zaftig orated as if presenting medical case in hospital while I left an impression of my teeth on her butt, “combine deep in the gluteal prominence to forms the sciatic nerve. Protected near its origin by gluteal muscles, the sciatic nerves cannot be palpated felt by touching or pressing on the skin, but this region, though shielded by high muscle and fat content, is one hyper-sensualized more responsive to firm touch or squeeze — or smack — than a lighter tickle.”

We crashed to the floor of the shower.

“When I was in the convent school,” Cuddling together Zaftig reminisced with her distant look, “the girls in the communal shower would chatter away about their budding breasts, bums and boys. Returning from vacation or a weekend home, the girls displayed dental impressions — eh hickeys — on their mammary glands like a medal of honor.”

“Doesn’t sound very virginal to me,” I shook my head.

“They’d talk about BJs,” Zaftig laughed, “It took me a while to figure out what that meant. They’d condescend to lecture me.”

“Sex education class in the communal shower?” I suggested. “Cleaned your bodies, with a dirty mind.”

“`We got caught putting out,'” Zaftig recalled, “the girls would say as they held their mammaries to display the impressions their boyfriend left, `that’s how we landed in here. What about you? Don’t tell us you really want to become a nun!'”

“And your answer?” I asked.

“Oh, I did,” Zaftig acknowledged with a sigh, “but I was afraid to admit it. So,” Zaftig paused to take a deep breath, “on a weekend home, I had my brother Josh leave dental impressions on my gluteal prominence.”

“A unique solution,” I exclaimed.

“Inspecting the wound, the shower sirens were suitably impressed,” Zaftig replied, “Ecstasy is a power trip. The tip, they told me is holding the key, limit your risk, keep your grip, stay in control. `Let him pop your top and nip at the tits, if he’s too frisky, a nifty trick, make him kick back, double quick, tell him to strip and play with his pole.’ They’d giggle, ‘don’t let him cum down south, take him into your mouth.'”

After our tryst in the shower, we awoke naked together in her bed. I was flat on my back. Zaftig was on her round belly propping her head up, bulbous breasts bobbing above the covers, elbows against the mattress,.

“My first time,” Zaftig confessed.

“Really, Dr Barton?” Giggling filled my voice. “You mean first time with a girl, don’t you?” uşak escort To her denial, an evil smile blossomed on my face, “you broke up with a long — standing boyfriend before I moved in.”

“Oh,” Zaftig replied, “He did try to introduce his phallus. I let him wiggle it in, but I yanked it out. Once, he was about to thrust his hips to attain coitus, I pulled out his penis and held it throbbing in my palm a moment too long. After he ejaculated on the sheets, poor guy profusely apologized.”

To my remark that Zaftig hadn’t found a man but a true saint who not only allowed you to jerk him off but also in offering to help you clean up. “Oh,” I laughed, “not here. I made him rent a motel room, the best in town.”

“You engaged your guy in tease — and — denial,” A bemused sparkling timbre entered my voice, “and made him pay for the room.”

“I couldn’t have allowed him here. Father would never have tolerated,” Zaftig explained, “even so much as outer course in these rooms.” Leaning over, Zaftig cooed, “Let’s leave old memories in the past and enjoy the present.” As Zaftig licked through the hollow of my chest to my belly button and down toward my mound, I, flat on my butt spread my legs to await her glistening tongue in my opening.

How long did I remain flat on my butt naked on the broken sidewalk of Central Avenue, I’m not sure. Then, suddenly that box shaped ambulance returned.

When the boxy Rescue Ambulance screeched to a halt to emit the fireman eyes enflamed, I realized that this was no prank. “You’re in for a treat,” the fireman with a crazed expression on his face declared, “I suspect a freak like you rarely enjoys.” At that, grabbing a leg, he flipped me on my belly.

Frozen in place by the injection, I was unable to move a muscle much less take to heels and run. My mind detached from my body. It was as if I were an observer.

This was 1970s. The minimum wage was on the rise scheduled to go up to a whopping $2.10 per hour. The push — ahead — program saw the number of women attending universities and professional schools surge. So too were offenses against women.

I started to analyze the law to the facts, like I was taught in law school. Under law of the time unfriendly to women’s complaints, `A man commits rape when he engages in intercourse with a woman, not his wife…’ Married ladies spread `em wide. Sorry girls, you must submit to your guy. Ah at least this burly fireman, a self — acknowledged opportunist by trade, was not married to me.

Gripping my legs and jerking them apart, the man boasted, “I do all the work so you can relax and enjoy it.”

Sexual intercourse become rape when it is accomplished “by forcible compulsion without her consent.” I don’t remember agreeing to this intrusion.

Instinctively, to keep my head from striking the concrete sidewalk, I, by using what strength I could muster, protected myself by pressing my palms against the ground.

By shielding my head from being smashed against the concrete had I `earnestly resisted to the utmost?’ What choice did I have? Men might argue that point in the `rarified air’ of the male chauvinist highest courts.

If all the other factors were present ‘any penetration however slight’ would constitute a completed rape.

Yanking my long legs apart had exposed my soft underbelly. His body hairs tickled my butt as he bellied up between my splayed thighs. With one hand he grasped me by my groinal crease. “I don’t have to look on a mutation.” Guiding his shaft with the other hand to probing my fotzie, he sought the opening to plunge inside me, declaring “the chest may be deformed but the underpass is warm and welcoming.”

I gasped as he aligned his shaft with my opening.

When Zaftig was still in school, struggling to pay rent, she and I played Nuns fully clothed in a soft porn film directed by a mutual friend. I recalled my lines shepherding a naked procession of new arrivals in a convent school to a communal shower, “Newcomers pay heed! A Christian believes in the glory and beauty of the majesty of the unadorned human form, designed in God’s own image and likeness, the very temple of the Holy Ghost …”

My temple was about to be desecrated. As the fireman sloshed around inside me, I concluded that penetration had been accomplished. Legally I had been raped. My attacker purred, “Hmm, such a wonderous connection like coupling a hose to a fire plug.”

I was left face down on the pavement until a vagrant threw his coat over me and found a police vehicle. I laughed at the police when they tried to accuse the vagrant of the charge.

My relationship with eh– Zaftig–Dr Barton was over. Zaftig didn’t visit me in hospital. Was it guilt for leaving me on the street or her insufferable pretensions to godhood? I don’t know.

Released from hospital, I returned home — I mean to Zaftig’s apartment. I no longer regarded it as mine. We passed each other in the rooms without saying a word until the end of the academic year. When I was fired from my part time position as Anatomical model at the Hospital, I turned in my keys to her apartment. When I left, I broke silence, “No God, hiding herself behind the curtain of silence, can admit fallibility.”

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

Hey guys I need to confess something here about my first quickie when I just turned 18. I’m not that sort of girl. Not normally. I only have sex with boyfriends, with men who love me. Maybe the occasional one-night adventure, but I always know their name. I’m a good girl. But not that one time.

We were at a festival and the rest of my friends were happy staying at the back of the crowd, it was loud and raucous, and they were scared, I think. Emily and I wanted to get closer though. We wanted to dive into the heaving mass of people and get as near to the stage as we could. We wanted to see the band, to feel the music shaking our ribs.

We pushed and shoved, and we elbowed our way almost to the front. People jostled us on all sides, they shoved back, we were squeezed so tight it was hard to breathe, and yes, it was scary, but it was exhilarating too. We were meters away from the band. We were crushed and battered, but we screamed and shouted with everyone around us.

I became one with the crowd. We sang and danced and moved together. We surged back and forth, and you couldn’t fight it if you tried, you had to give yourself up to it. Ripples of motion passed through us like we were waves crashing on a beach.

I screamed and danced, I couldn’t breathe properly, and I got hotter and hotter. My head went light, my heart beat too fast, sweat ran over my body. I felt high. I forgot myself–I wasn’t me anymore, just a part of the primal crowd.

Then escort yakacık I felt him behind me. I bounced off him as we surged, and he felt so solid, like a wall of muscle. I turned and he grinned down at me. He was handsome. I grinned too.

He pushed against me and I pushed back. His hand grasped my arse and he squeezed so hard I gasped. I didn’t stop him. I pressed back into him harder.

His other arm came around me. He hugged me into him as we swayed with the crowd, and he was hot and sweaty too. He slid his hand under my t-shirt and up my top. I still didn’t stop him. I let him push his fingers under my bra.

We moved together with the crowd. He held me tight and I rubbed myself against him. He groped my arse, he squeezed my breasts, he pinched my nipples, and I moaned and panted. I’d been drunk with excitement, with the music, with losing myself in the crowd, but it all became desire now. Hot, urgent, overwhelming need.

I reached around behind myself. I ran my hand over the front of his jeans and found the bulge of his firm cock. I wrapped my fingers around it through his clothes and I rubbed and squeezed him. He was so thick and long it made me tremble.

He slid his hand up the back of my skirt. He pulled my knickers to one side and I groaned loud as his fingers found my cunt. I arched my back and stepped my legs apart to help him. I could feel how wet I was, I was dripping already. bayan escort istanbul He slid a finger into me easily.

He fucked me quickly with it, and I bucked my hips to show him I wanted it faster. He slid a second finger into me and I closed my eyes tight and groaned. He pawed at my tits with his other hand, rubbing them roughly, tugging on my nipples, and I moaned louder, but my noises were lost in the shouting and the music.

I rubbed his cock urgently. I found his zip, and the angle was awkward, but I managed to yank it down with sharp, frantic tugs. I squirmed my hand into his jeans, I found the gap in his underwear, then my fingers found his hard, hot flesh. I pulled his cock out and he didn’t stop me.

We moved together, one with the crowd. I squeezed and tugged his cock. He fucked me with his fingers, he wriggled them inside me, my legs went weak as he found my g-spot.

I needed more though. I needed him in me. I needed it more than anything. I bent forwards a little and I guided his cock up the back of my skirt, and then he took control.

His fingers came out of me, then I felt his prick against my pussy, hot against my skin. He held still for a moment, then he pressed his hips forwards and he thrust into me.

He stretched and opened and filled my cunt. I pushed back against him, greedy for all of his length. His body was so firm and strong, I could smell his fragrance, his sweat, and he buried himself escort bağdat caddesi into me all way, deep as he could. He grasped hold of my hips and he fucked me.

We weren’t shy about it; he took me hard, and I bucked back to meet each of his thrusts. I moaned and yelled, he groaned and grunted, we moved faster and faster and people around us started to notice. They grinned and laughed at us.

He rubbed my tits again, he ran a hand down between my thighs and he found my clit. I got a hand up his top and traced my fingers over his taught stomach muscles. We moved in perfect rhythm, we understood each other completely.

We got rougher, harder, I was dripping in sweat. He kissed my neck, behind my ears, he bit my shoulder. Heat filled my body, it erupted over my face and chest, and it was better than anything before, or since.

He fucked me so well my legs gave way and he had to hold me up. Lucky he was so strong.

His cock felt glorious in me, his fingers sent waves of pleasure through my body, I felt like I was vibrating all over, I felt euphoria, and then I was there already.

Colour, sound, pleasure, everything filled me as I came. My cunt spasmed around his cock and it tipped him over too. He thrust harder and harder, jolting and shuddering inside me as he climaxed. We roared and screamed and laughed as we came together.

He held me when we were finished. He slowly slid out of my body. He made sure my legs were stable enough for me to stand by myself, then his hands were off me and he was gone.

I didn’t look around to watch him leave. I danced and screamed with the crowd once more. The only sign he’d existed was the heat in my cunt and his come running down my legs. I just felt so used and it made me feel great.

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

CAUTION: If you are a religious Christian, please refrain from reading this story. Potentially offensive content ahead.

II.

There we were, the heavenly Virgin standing before me, looking down at me, humble and on my knees before her, kissing the front of her soft legs, holding up her robes. My heart was pounding with nervousness from the wrongness of it all, and yet my thirst for Mary grew with every touch of my lips on her skin, with every kiss.

I didn’t know how she would react if I were to lift her gown farther up, but my desire to do so was eating at me. I then stopped kissing her frontal thighs and I sat back to stare straight ahead at the area where I presumed her crotch to be, everything still cloaked by her white gown. I looked up at her as I got both hands ready to lift, grasping the robe firmly.

Mary looked down at me. She was lovely and pleasant, but she wasn’t smiling, though, out of sheer nervousness, and she was even blushing a bit at the cheeks. She was so heavenly and beautiful, that I felt butterflies in my breast just from that one passionate look she gave me.

Weeks later, after some research, I would realise an almost uncanny resemblance of her to her Medjugorje depiction, but at that moment, I knew almost nothing about her, and understood only the ineffable beauty of what I saw. Then, she spoke to me in a mellow, even sweeter tone than before.

-Please Marcela, promise me you will not reveal this to anyone. –She said, and before I could answer, she spoke again. –Please don’t tell anyone… if anyone should find out what I’ve been letting you do to me today, the consequences would be dire. The loss of faith among believers would be…

-Don’t worry, Mary. –I said, reassuringly. –I will not tell anyone about this, you have my word.

At that moment I also meant to ask her why she had chosen me for this, of all the women in the world, why I had been given this honour by her, but it didn’t quite matter, and I didn’t want her to change her mind either, so I said nothing, and I went back to staring at the robes which covered her pubic area, hoping she would give me permission to carry on.

-You have my permission… -She finally said timidly, authorising me to lift her gown and see what I longed to see.

I lifted her robe and slowly uncovered her sex, her holy and unique sex, that anatomic equivalent to the Hope Diamond. And it was indeed a diamond in its shape, or rather an inverted triangle of lustrous, black curls that covered her sex almost afyon escort completely.

Her black, Semitic pubic hair curled aesthetically inwards from both sides of her sex, leaving little to be seen of her vagina. Soon I would see it in all its beauty and splendour, and discover two perfect crimson lips that demanded my kiss upon them, devout and loving.

My heart began pounding again in my chest as I continued to gaze at Mary’s beautiful vagina, then I looked up at her gorgeous face, so indescribably divine under her white veil.

As the Virgin timidly looked at me, I saw her cheeks were even more blushed now, but there was still no smile. Mary’s face was serious from the rush she was feeling of having another woman so close to her untouched vagina, and my heart pounded in my breast, like a drum.

Mary breathed fast with nervousness. I was also breathing heavily, and I was dying to taste her. Resisting was so difficult! I had to have her.

My last resistance to temptation was then replaced by an awesome desire which had been building up inside me, and I swiftly and passionately defeated the space between my lips and her sex, her holy female sex, and I planted my first kiss on her femininity.

I heard Mary moan quietly and delicately as I continued to kiss her holy pussy, my nose lost in the depths of her pubic Hebrew thicket. She smelled of Heaven, sometimes of roses, sometimes of other flowers, or of mint, and as I licked her for the first time, she tasted of honey to me, and of sugar water.

I couldn’t get enough of her delicious, heavenly sex, and soon I had my whole mouth on her, suctioning, tonguing, tasting all her heavenly greatness, worshipping all that she was with each motion of my mouth. My face nose-deep in her delicious Galilaean bush, I could feel the gentle caress of her lustrous, black curls around my lips, as my toungue stroked her sweet femininity once and again.

Her moans became louder as I continued to lick her with increasing passion, and she sounded so sweet that her moans just got me more and more aroused as I continued to lick her, and I could feel my nipples trying to tear through the fabric of my bra, eager to rub themselves against hers.

With Mary’s consent, I carried on worshipping her most forbidden body part with my mouth, and I even felt her delicate hand on the back of my head, gently pulling me towards her, as if she wished for me to lick her more intensely, but without forcing me to either. Such a heavenly aydın escort woman, indeed!

At times, when her moans were getting too loud, I would move my mouth away from her heavenly clitoris and kiss her beautiful black bush again, up and down, and even up to her belly-button, and then back down again.

I licked the Virgin’s pubic bush and her sweet skin with such authentic, heart-felt love, that I drove her mad, and she moaned in crescendo when my mouth finally reached her holy pussy again and started working on it with my soft lips and my female passion.

I don’t know how long she kept me there, but I wished the whole time that that be the eternity of Heaven one day for me. Meanwhile, her taste was so divine that soon I felt as if I was reaching some sort of sexual trance.

Suddenly, she pulled back and I let the robes go, and my heart sank with disappointment as she turned around and walked away from me towards the tree behind her. I observed her, panting and confused.

I saw her put her face in her hands as if weeping, but she didn’t weep. I could clearly see that she was suddenly overcome with guilt and remorse; I knew it, but I refused to ask, because I wanted no answer or explanation, I just wanted to keep enjoying her.

I got up on my feet, and slowly walked towards her. I did it even though I knew it was wrong, and how unworthy I was of doing what I was doing. I had to take this chance she had given me, I had to help her ignore her guilt and win her back again.

I thus knelt down behind her and began to kiss the back of her feet, hoping she would beat her remorse and let me worship more of her.

The ever Virgin Mary soon stood there seduced by me again, and she allowed me to kiss her feet as she stared straight ahead, and with me kneeling behind her.

I started to kiss up her legs again, but this time from behind, very cautiously, trying not to do anything that would make Mary change her mind.

Despite her apparent sentiment of guilt, she seemed to have recovered to a certain degree, and now she was allowing me to continue worshipping her. I knew that this was what she wanted, and that she wanted it as badly as I did.

I kissed the back of her knees, almost making her fall from the arousing sensation, then I kissed up her thighs, slowly and reverently, so she would know I was honoured to be there, and to be doing what I was doing. Then, finally, I uncovered her glutei, her holy, perfect glutei.

Her body completely incorrupt ağrı escort due to her sainthood, her buttocks were still perfectly firm and ripe. I stared at both her ass-cheeks of golden white, perfectly round and beautiful, and, without her permission, I did what was my duty then to her: I kissed her buttocks, her holy ass.

I started with the right cheek, then slowly moving on to the left one, kissing humidly, meditatively and with heart-felt passion.

I kissed and kissed her perfect, heavenly ass, making her feel with each kiss how much I admired her now, and how much I had come to love her in such little time. Every kiss was like a prayer to her, my Heavenly Mistress, a surrender to her, my One and Only Lady, and I myself a gift to her as her property.

As my lips worshipped the perfection of her holy glutei, I looked up and noticed that she was looking at me over her shoulder. Her look was still visible, almost hidden behind her veil, but I could see she was enjoying herself.

Her veil cascaded down her back and it almost touched my face with its tip as I continued to kiss her heavenly ass. Then, as I continued to kiss, I saw my lipstick stains on the soft skin of her ass-cheeks, and realised my lipstick must be smeared all over her Body and all over my mouth.

I had forgotten I was wearing dark red lipstick, which I had put on to go see Telma, and most of it was now left behind on Mary’s feet, her shins, her beautiful, holy sex, and her black Hebrew bush.

After a while, I boldly began to lick her ass-cheeks up and down in between kisses too, and she kept monitoring me over her shoulder from time to time, despite the discomfort of such a position, pleaseed to see my lips on her ass.

I kept eye-contact as much as I could while continued to I lick and kiss, and I felt so aroused that soon I could feel my panties getting humid beneath my jeans.

Finally, Mary pulled delicately away from me and she let her robes drop down to her feet again. Then, she looked me in the eyes as she softly caressed my cheek.

-That’s enough, Marcela… –She said, blushing and probably overcome with remorse again. –I have prayers to answer now, I have to leave. Please don’t tell anyone about this, don’t forget to keep your word to me.

I nodded to her request, and right there, before my eyes, she walked into the forest and disappeared behind a tree, without a trace.

Still kneeling on the ground, my lesbian mouth smeared with my own lipstick, I followed her with my eyes, inhaling the flowery fragrance that Mary had left behind, the delicious taste of her honey still in my mouth.

Raised in a very secular and Protestant household, I had never cared for Mary before that day, but now I realised I would miss her very badly for the first time in my life.

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

“Miho,” I slide in beside her as she fills an order for one of our regulars. It’s an iced toffee mocha latte – which, in my opinion, is an abomination to coffee. We’re already supposed to be closed but our regular just switched to night shifts and we’re willing to wait the extra fifteen minutes for them to come in just before their Wednesday night hospital shift. All that’s left now for us is to lock the store, turn out the lights, and leave.

Hopefully we leave together.

“What’s up?” She asks, concentrating on getting the correct measurements of flavoring into the cup. Our regular stands outside the door on their phone.

“Can I take you to the movies after we close?”

“Nope!” She says cheerfully, flouncing away to pass off the coffee to the regular without even sparing me a glance. I hear her tell him to have a great evening before he walks away and she locks the door. I simply stand next to the coffee bar, stunned.

“What?” I stutter as she turns the sign. “But I thought…”

“What, that we’re dating because I asked you to get on your knees?” Miho is looking at me, her dark hair framing her face. She holds the shop’s keys in her hands and studies me as I stammer. I hardly realize I’m playing with my choker until I see her eyes flicker to it. I drop my hand. It’s the only one I’ve worn since her and I hooked up in the stockroom. She saunters towards me.

“Love, if anyone is taking anyone out,” she is close to me now, inches away and looking at me like a wolf studies its prey, “It’ll be me taking you out on your leash.”

My stutter stops at that. I don’t exactly remember when her hands ghosted up my thighs, nor when she’d backed me up to the bar, but suddenly there we were. I don’t mind being pinned in place by Miho.

“Put your hands on the counter.” She says to me, firmly. I listen. I don’t think there’s a universe in which I don’t listen. Mino finds it very funny.

“Wow,” she leans up to kiss my chin, “that was fast.”

“You know I’ll do anything you say Miho.” I can hear my own heart beating again, hard enough that it feels like my chest is aching. “Especially when you say it like that.”

She hums a response. It isn’t any real word but it still sounds pleased. She takes a step back and studies me. I try not to fidget. In all my past experiences, I’m not to move unless I’m told.

I like it that way.

“Anything?” She asks. I simply nod.

“So if I said I wanted to bend you over the counter and fuck you until you couldn’t breathe,” she asks, “would you do that?”

“Yes.” I answer in a breath. I feel my cheeks go pink and hot under her gaze. She’s smirking at me and I can’t tell if it’s because I break so easily, or because she likes to see me like this. Either way, her eyes are shining with something mischievous.

“No talking,” She says to me. “The only thing you’re allowed to say is stop. Okay?”

I open my mouth to confirm and then shut it. I nod my head instead. I have the sneaking suspicion that Miho likes it when someone has a hard time staying quiet. I don’t mind.

“What if I said I wanted to make you come, over and over again on the counter kilis escort right here.” She leans in close and for a second we’re breathing the same air. “Then I said I wanted to put you on your leash and take you to my house to do it all again? “

My eyes go wide. She laughs softly.

“What? I only live a few blocks away. Only a few people would see you.” She stares at me, waiting for my response.

I’m comfortable enough in my submission to no longer get embarrassed over the fact I get off to ideas like that. And I’m comfortable enough to nod my okay at her. Apparently though, I’m not good enough at keeping quiet. Before I can stop it, a small whimper escapes my throat.

I whimper at the thought of Miho pulling off my uniform. The thought of my body spread on the cold countertop that her and I just wiped down together, her hand moving between my thighs. The thought of her whispering in my ear and biting into my neck as she tells me when I’m allowed to come, over and over again. It’s enough to make me shudder, that is the thought of her pulling me up by my choker and kissing me softly as she clips her leash – my leash – to it and pulls me out the door, into the cold night air. Maybe she lives only a few blocks away, but I would be exposed and completely at her mercy. And Miho does not seem like she would be merciful.

She swallows my whimper whole with a kiss, nearly crushing my lips between hers. I want to reach and grasp her face in my hands, feel her cheeks to see if they’re as warm as my own. See if her bravado is real. But I don’t. I keep my hands on the counter because that’s what she told me to do.

“Put your hands above your head.” She says and I obey without even thinking. She tugs at my shirt and pulls it as high as she can. Our height difference means I have to get the last few inches of it over my hands, but it’s no big deal. I cast it aside and stop, pushing her away from my lips, my fingers touching her chin. Her gaze instantly becomes worried.

“What is it?” She asks, bravado fading, “Are you okay?”

I nod and point at the glass doors and windows at the front of our store. Coffee Cup is a very well lit area during the day, mainly due to its front wall of floor to ceiling shatter proof glass. Unfortunately, with the lights on, anyone can see us.

“It’s fine, I locked the door.” She smiles shyly. “No one can get in.”

I shake my head and sigh, breaking my silence.

“They can still see us though.” I reply and suddenly she gets it. She just looks at me, something sneaky playing across her face.

“So what if they do?” She says and plays with the hair falling around my shoulders. She pulls my arms towards her and I gently wrap them around her neck, hanging them off her shoulders.

“Are you afraid someone might see you, lying on the bartop and submitting to my every whim?” She asks. I swallow. I don’t exactly have an answer for her. She smiles and ducks out from under my arms. Walking over to the adjacent wall, she flips the lights off. The only light left is the soft glow from the streetlamp across the way. At night, Coffee Cup at least kırklareli escort has enough shadows that any passerby would have to do a double take.

“Is that better Amber?” She ghosts across the tile towards me and I nod. “Good.” She says and pats the bartop. “I want you to undress for me and lay yourself across here. I expect you to be ready by the time I’m back.”

She steps up to me and loops my choker in her finger, pulling me to her level to suck on my neck. I think I melt a little under her touch.

“Remember, no more speaking.” She whispers into my ear. “And make sure that I can see that lovely ass of yours.”

She sucks on my neck again, hard enough to leave a mark.

I love when you do that. I think. I want to tell her. But I know it can wait until I’m allowed to speak again.

“I’ll see you.” She says and I watch her slide away to the store bathroom. I hear the sink turn on and I quickly shed my clothes, my work pants and underwear joining my shirt on the floor. I size up the countertop as I hear the hand dryer run. I appreciate Miho’s hygiene and then vaguely wonder how this is going to affect the food safety. I laugh quietly when I remember that tomorrow is the quarterly deep cleaning of the store.

She planned this. I chuckle and slowly lay myself down onto the island until my chin rests near the edge and the tips of my feet touch the floor. The countertop is cold and I feel my nipples harden. As I hear her footsteps approach me, I shiver. I suppose the cold isn’t the only reason for that particular reaction.

“You’re beautiful Amber.” I hear her say and suddenly her fingers are trailing up my thighs. Her hands are soft and she pushes my legs further apart. I see none of this, only feel her as she touches me in this slow and aching way. I watch the silent and empty street and our vague reflections in the windows. I watch as her silhouette stands over mine, feeling her hands touch my thighs, squeeze my ass, and graze over my back. I feel her weight lean down into me and she kisses the back of my neck. I try to turn my head to kiss her but she pulls back quickly and clamps a hand onto the back of my head, forcing it to stay atop the counter. She leans around to kiss me herself and then lets me go.

“Let me take care of you.” She says and I gasp as her fingers push into me.

Miho, is a tease. I learn this over the course of the next several minutes. She finds a rhythm that takes me just to the edge and when I can no longer remain silent, she stops touching me, leaving me to pant on the now warm countertop.

I want to chastise her for it, but I know if I speak, she’ll stop. But after the third time, I can’t help it.

“Miho!” I whine as she pulls her fingers from me again.

“No. Talking.” She whispers into my ear. I hear the sound of her hand hitting my ass before I feel the sting of it.

I shut my mouth.

“Is that okay?” She whispers the second after she does it.

“Yes.” I breathe and smile as she smacks me again.

I have a vision of her hands leaving pink stains on my skin, some temporary mark that proves karabük escort I am hers for the evening. It doesn’t make me any less horny. In fact, it makes the fact she’s left me hanging on the edge all the more unbearable.

I feel her fingers reenter me. She begins to push in and out with twice as much vigor as she did before.

“Since you can’t seem to keep quiet,” she says, a wave of fog rolling across my brain. No longer do I have space left in my mind for rational thought. “I want you singing my praise as you cum.”

It only takes a few more seconds for me to do as she says.

“Miho!” It comes out somewhere between a moan and a yell. “Fuck, Miho.” I add, making a few other sounds that aren’t exactly words. In any other situation, I’d be rather embarrassed, but the pleased hum Miho makes as I finally tip over the edge makes any feelings other than contentment disappear. As I gasp, she slows her hands, turning her fingers inside me and curving them into a hook. She starts again after letting me have a few seconds rest.

“Since you seemed to enjoy that so much, why don’t I make up for those other two times I left you on edge?” She says and bends over me to plant kisses down my back. I don’t have the breath to respond, only to moan her name as she fucks me on that counter again and again.

“Here, I’ll hang this up for you.” Miho picks up my apron from the tile and puts it in the back room for me. I’ve already dressed myself again, Miho having told me that she wasn’t keen on actually walking me naked across the block. I had a small laugh at her for it and she just pouted at me.

“Well, you seemed to like the sound of it!” She retorted, finally taking her turn to blush. I simply had just gathered her in my arms and held her for a bit before putting my clothes back on.

“Hey Amber?” Miho’s head pops out the door of the back room.

“Yeah?” I reply, pulling out a wet wipe to clean the counter with. She walks over, grabbing one of her own to help me.

“I don’t really like going to the movies,” she doesn’t look at me as she says it, just concentrates on the monotonous task, “but if you still want to go, I think I’d like to go with you. If that’s okay.”

I smile and toss my wipe in the garbage. She glances over at me and I gently touch her chin, tipping her head towards me.

“Of course it’s okay.” I smile and she lets out a breath. “And we don’t have to go to the movies, We can find something we both like to do.”

“Really?” She asks.

“Yeah, why else would I ask?” I chuckled and smile at her. “Actually, I was worried you actually didn’t want to,” I start meeting her intense gaze with one of my own, “which is a bit ridiculous considering you just railed me across the bar.” I motion to the newly clean countertop.

It’s Miho’s newly faded blush returns in full force.

“Yeah, well… you liked it.” She glances away and then back again. “I mean, you didi, right?”

“Miho, I don’t think there’s a universe in which I don’t like the way you make me feel.” I finally say and kiss her one last time. Together we walk through the stockroom and out the backdoor. She locks the shop behind us.

“Still want to go to my place?” She asks, carefully – almost shyly – taking my hand. But as I meet her eyes, I see something hard there. I feel my torso knot and a smile creep across my face. I squeeze her hand gently.

“Well,” I reply cheekily, “it is only a few blocks away.”

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

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

All characters are over the age of 18.

This one has a bit of something for everyone. First time, college, coming-of-age, straight sex. Later chapters will introduce bisexual and group/poly action, a transgender character and some cross-dressing, alcohol and some light experimentation with drugs. If any of that isn’t your cup of tea, you might want to skip this one.

I expect at least 6 or 7 chapters, but could go longer depending on how y’all like it. This first chapter is a bit vanilla and will have a slow build to properly set the scene.

Where do I even start?

As Ms. Parker from sophomore creative writing taught us, starting at the beginning is the way to go. Not too wordy, she’d say, but just enough to hook them in the first page. I could put on paper what I’m doing right now and get a probably one-season Netflix series, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Okay, the beginning, kinda. My name is Jack Thornton. Good, masculine name, right? My dad, Jack Thornton senior must have thought so. Thank god he never called me junior or any other related bullshit, just Jack. His name is actually John, which I was surprised to learn could get ‘shortened’ to Jack. What the hell is that about? Not shorter, hello…

Yeah, I know, already getting off track. My dad was as much of a man’s man as you could imagine. Tough, but loving in a gruff sort of way when he needed to be, usually one of the smarter guys in the room without the need to announce it or get in a pissing match. Always had the right answer if you took the time to ask. A kind of gentle giant that epitomized the opposite of the toxic masculinity playing out on any number of social media platforms when I was in my formative years.

I always worried about disappointing him, not living up to the obviously high standard to which he’d comported himself all of his… shit, how old is he? I don’t even remember the year my dad was born. Seventies I think? How is that even possible, the seventies were a bizarre time after Vietnam and the gas crisis and all the… and, I’m off track again.

Get it together. Alright. Jack Thornton the second, junior, whatever. Me. I always had the feeling I wasn’t the picture my parents had in their minds of their first and only son. I was born just before cell phones and Facebook and Instagram. But by the time I knew anything, they were ingrained in everything. How could anyone grow up ‘normal’ in that kind of environment?

I was always the kid that played it safe, that didn’t take risks. I saw my friends do stupid things and go down in flames nine times out of ten. Putting yourself out there always seemed like such a gamble, a game not really worth playing.

I knew that everyone was dealt a different poker hand. Somehow I wasn’t blessed with my father’s confidence or ability to walk into any situation and seem like I knew what I was talking about. I did alright in school though, even managed a high three-point-something GPA.

By the time I was sixteen, I realized I also hadn’t inherited many of my dad’s genes. He was 6’2″, I was 5’8″. He had broad shoulders and muscles everywhere. I got my mom’s good hair, but her waifish physique as well. I’d been told by a couple of girls I was good-looking in a k-pop boy band sort of way, which I took to mean a bit feminine and well-dressed. I guess I was both of those things. Whatever. Use what you’ve got.

I swam on the school team and managed to bulk up a little, but only enough that I didn’t look unhealthy. Swimming was the one thing I managed to succeed at, my slight build and naturally nearly-hairless body gave me an advantage that I used as best I could. I even won a regional gold medal at the end of my junior year.

That one win gave me an incredible confidence boost, something I’d never felt before. Alongside one of my best friends getting a girlfriend that was way out of his league, I vowed to enter my senior year a new man, reinvented. Suave, confident. For the most part, I felt like I pulled it off for a few months. Fall and winter holidays passed and I had made more friends, got invited to a few parties, and worked up the nerve to ask a girl I was crushing on to senior prom. She even said yes. That was the spring of 2020. Then…

FUCKING. COVID.

My mom has an autoimmune disorder that normally isn’t much of a problem, but for our family made quarantine a very real and serious thing. I put my university plans on hold, and instead virtually attended the local community college. By spring of 2022 when things began to get back to normal-ish, I had an associate’s business degree and what felt like the worst case of cabin fever ever.

Being home, insulated and alone for two years sent me right back into my comfortable, introverted shell. It’s like a habit you’re trying to break but don’t really want to. Going to my community college graduation ceremony though, again full of people and laughter and happiness… escort dudullu it rekindled my resolve to start living, to start putting myself ‘out there’, whatever that meant.

Seeing the COVID impacts in the rearview mirror, I brought up the idea of going away to college again. June was late to start classes in the fall, but I got on like ten provisional admissions lists and was eager to go literally anywhere else. By late summer, I had three spots to choose from.

Much to my parents’ displeasure, I chose a liberal arts college out west. I could read the objections in their facial expressions… “They don’t have the same values in California, it’s going to be so different and uncomfortable for you, what are you even going to study at a place like that?” They were of course, absolutely right. But I wanted to stretch myself, meet people who thought differently, and maybe get through a winter without dealing with Michigan snow and ice and freezing bullshit.

They were dumbfounded when I said I didn’t want them to take me, that I could handle the trip by myself. Mom even got out of me that I didn’t yet have a place to live, owing to the last-minute admission. She glanced at me like a complete stranger when I said “I’ll just find something when I get there.” If she had pearls, she would have clutched them.

Okay, getting closer to the interesting part of my story.

So, on a sunny Saturday in early September, my parents drove me to the airport. I had a suitcase packed with every warm-weather piece of clothing I owned. It wasn’t a lot. With a few tears from mom and a bear hug from my dad, I stood on the curb and watched them drive off. It was surreal, knowing I wouldn’t see them for months, and that I was flying off to someplace without even knowing where I was going to sleep that night. I felt like I was microdosing adrenaline as I walked into the airport. The flight was uneventful, which was fine with me.

I stepped out of the terminal at LAX and grinned like an idiot. The warm coastal breeze ruffled my hair, and the palm trees lining the street immediately transported me to vacation, even though I was here to live and study. To exist.

“This is gonna be alright,” I said aloud to myself, still smiling. Finding the taxi line, I waited for my turn. The driver knew the college, and we were quickly off and weaving through traffic.

My single suitcase and backpack in tow, I made my way toward the student union. Having studied the campus brochure and map obsessively over the last few days, I knew right where I was going. The place looked just like the brochure, even the happy young adults playing frisbee in the quad to the soundtrack of someone strumming a guitar.

I was the only person I could see wearing pants, which I noted would change at my earliest opportunity. Two higher priority goals dominated my thoughts, food and shelter. Food first. I scarfed a sandwich from one of the stalls in the student union, then set out to find the housing office. The labyrinthine basement of the building got me turned around a few times and I ended up back-tracking twice past the same cork bulletin board. A handwritten flyer caught my eye, pink and orange sharpie all over it and half consumed tear-off phone numbers. I chuckled out loud that someone in 2022 would use physical paper to advertise something.

“Roommate wanted. Great location, nice place. $700/mo includes utilities. Must be open minded, up for fun, and maybe more. Call Sloane.”

I did some quick mental math and realized that if I could cook some of my own meals, that this would be cheaper than a dorm room by quite a bit. What if it’s way off campus? And is Sloane a guy or a girl? What the hell is ‘maybe more’? I exhaled deeply and tore off the phone number. It’s probably already rented anyway, half the paper is gone. I stared back and forth down the hallway to the housing office, and at the scrap in my hand. Remember why you’re here, just do it.

Back outside, I dialed the number. A girl answered, “Hey.”

“Hi, is this Sloane?”

“Yup. What’s your name, hun?”

“I’m Jack.”

“Well hi there, Jack. Are you calling about the futon, or the roommate?”

“The roommate,” I said, chuckling. “I just got here and need a place to stay.”

“My sign…” she giggled back. “I didn’t think anyone would actually see it down there.”

“Do you still have the room?” I asked. “I saw I wasn’t the first one.”

“Sure do, the other people were, well…”

“Oh, do you have some kind of criteria or something?”

“Don’t we all?” Sloane said seriously. “I just gotta get your vibe, you know? See if we’d be able to live under the same roof. Are you a serial killer or anything?”

“Definitely not.”

“Okay, well first test passed. Do you wanna come see the place?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. I literally just got off the plane and have my suitcase with me. Would istanbul bayan escort the room be available today?”

“Somebody’s getting ahead of themselves,” she laughed. “If I think you’re alright, you could stay tonight, yeah.h.”

I could almost hear her smile through the phone. “Awesome. Well, I’m at the school. Is it far?”

“Not too bad, but I wouldn’t want to drag a suitcase here.”

“Ok. Shoot me your address and I’ll get a Lyft or something.”

“I’m not doing anything at the moment, could I give you a ride?”

“Really? That’d be amazing. I’m right out in front of the student union.”

“I’ll be there in ten. Send me selfie so I know what you look like.”

“Will do.”

I ended the call and flipped my phone around. I don’t know why, but I flashed a peace sign to the camera and smiled with my teeth, which I almost never did. She responded with a smiley.

I spent the next few minutes carefully studying everyone that walked by, wondering if any of them were her, scoping me out anonymously before committing. The girls here really are prettier here. Immediately I recalled my parents listening to California Girls in the car. Just like silently rating the people boarding the airplane that may or may not sit in the empty seat next to you, I played roommate lottery in my head. One girl I would have rated an eight gave me a longer than normal look as she walked by, but didn’t stop.

On the ten minute mark, a white Tesla pulled up to the curb on the opposite side of the road. What I could see of the driver through the tinted window, she appeared to be her checking her phone, then looking directly at me. After what seemed longer than was probably real, the door opened.

I watched in awe as this girl got out of the car, desperately hoping it was her. Maybe-Sloane wore short cutoffs and a tank top, and her straight blonde hair was held back by the sunglasses on her forehead. Her golden skin seemed to radiate the sunlight as opposed to the reflection from my pale whiteness. Only just shorter than me I guessed, maybe 5’7″ and 120 pounds. Her body was a textbook perfect hourglass, right smack between bombshell and runway model.

She was the very image of a California Girl, and my previously sheltered psyche took my brain in all sorts of titilating directions. The other part of me quickly shut those down, helpfully suggesting that hitting on my possible future roommate wasn’t a good idea. All of this in the span of time it took her to walk across the street.

“Hiya Jack,” she said warmly, stepping up the curb and immediately invading my space. She hugged me, my arms awkwardly at my sides while her barely-covered breasts flattened against my chest. She pulled away and planted a kiss on each of my cheeks.

“European greeting, I like it.” No idea where that came from. I knew without a doubt that my cheeks were beginning to glow bright red. I could still feel the heat from where her lips had touched.

Sloane laughed. “Well aren’t you cute?” She stepped back and sized me up.

I tried my best not to openly stare at her, despite her doing the same to me. “Thanks for coming to get me,” I said dumbly. “That’s you, right?” I nodded toward the car she’d obviously just gotten out of.

“Yup! If you’re ready, let’s go. I’m guessing you’ll want to change out of those right away.” She pointed at my covered legs.

It had to be eighty-five out. “Yeah.”

Sloane grabbed my suitcase and headed back across the street. I failed at not gawking at her backside as she strutted across the pavement and waved to an oncoming car that gladly stopped for us. We got in and zipped away. The acceleration and near silence was a new experience as I’d never ridden in a car that didn’t burn dinosaurs.

We made pleasant small talk for the short drive as she wove us in the direction I thought was roughly toward the ocean. I mentally noted that this was easily the least awkward I’d ever been with a girl, alone, and especially one that was an absolute dime. She glanced at me often as she drove, even putting her hand on my chest when we had to stop quickly for a red light.

I could feel myself getting more and more jazzed about my situation as we got closer. Not just because she was gorgeous and probably going to be cohabitating with me, but she was funny, and kind, and we just seemed to click. I’d never met another person that did that. Not my friends, not my parents, nobody. I subconsciously knew it was me… I was the one that needed to warm up to people, not the other way around. Maybe this is the new me, I thought, I’m really doing it…

The Pacific Ocean flashed it’s blue glint between a few buildings as we turned again. I grinned involuntarily, having only seen it one other time about ten years before. I started noticing the real estate around us rise in height and value as we got further west.

When Sloane turned into a driveway escort kozyatağı not two blocks from what I now saw was a boardwalk-lined beach, my jaw hung open. The house, and those in a row on either side, were narrow, but deep, and four stories tall. A glass railing on the flat roof suggested some kind of viewing area up top. The matching homes were tastefully modern, large windows and white stucco. Each of the rooms facing the beach had a small patio with matching glass railings. The third floor deck cantilevered out further than the others, and housed a grill and patio furniture.

I was still gawking through the windshield when Sloane tapped on the passenger window. “It’s the small button at the top of the armrest,” she pointed.

I let myself out and continued to stare at what I guessed was many millions of dollars worth of house. “You… live here?” I finally got out.

“It suits my needs,” she said pretentiously before giggling. “Come on in, I’ll show you around.”

We walked through a side door into an entry room. A hallway to the first floor suite lead off in one direction, a kitchenette and stairs the other.

“That’s your room,” she said, nodding down the hallway. “You could come and go without having to walk through the rest of the house. Lotsa stairs. Plus you can use the little kitchen if you want. I tend to stink up the main one pretty bad sometimes. I’m a horrible cook.”

“Wait, so like… I can stay?”

“Don’t you want to? It felt like we got along alright, and I’m assuming you’re okay with the rent? I could probably knock it down a few hundred if you need.”

The emotional wave hit me fast and I wasn’t prepared. Less than twelve hours ago I was leaving home for the first time, heading to a new city without a place to stay, and if I was lucky, shacked up in a cramped dorm room with a guy or two I’d probably end up hating. The absurdity of my current situation almost didn’t make any sense. My eyes began to pool and I lunged forward, dropping my backpack in the process as I hugged her.

“Thank you,” I said, trying to force my chest to stay still, “thank you so much. The rent is great,” I sniffed. I pulled away and forced what I hoped was a genuine smile.

Sloane grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the stairs. “Come on then, I’ll show you the rest.”

The second floor housed a rec room of sorts with a pool table, ping pong, and a few stand-up arcade games. A large laundry room stocked with supplies separated the rec room from another bedroom at the rear. The next floor was the main living area and kitchen. I kept slowly panning around the space, dumbstruck. The finishes and furnishings were all top of the line. A six burner cooktop sat in a Carrera marble island probably twenty feet long. I wandered aimlessly around, taking in the opulence of the place I didn’t know I was going to be living in an hour ago. We strolled out onto the large balcony. The view was probably half the value of the house. While the lot wasn’t beachfront, it was only two short blocks back from the boardwalk – and had an unobstructed view.

I leaned against the railing and closed my eyes, just letting the sunlight soak in and the sea air wash over me.

“You look like you’re gonna be alright here…” said Sloane, sidling up next to me.

We both gazed out toward the water. Families and sunbathers dotted the sand and the low noise of traffic slowly creeping down the frontage road was muted from our height.

I sighed heavily. “Yeah, I think so.” I let my brain finally overcome the dissonance of the last span of minutes and think. Something wasn’t adding up. “You, uh… go to the college?” She nodded offhandedly. “And you live here. And can like, way undercharge on rent.”

“You can just come out and ask me…” she said with a lopsided grin.

I shook my head, mostly at me. “How the hell can you afford this, and tuition, and a Tesla, and…” My mouth finally caught up with my brain and stopped talking.

Sloan waited for me to trail off. “My parents are stupid rich. They’re mostly-horrible people, and bought me this house when I said I wanted to come here for college. They pay my bills and keep me comfortable and happy, and I leave them alone and don’t visit.”

“Oh… jeez, I’m sorry.” I felt the urge to grab her hand, but felt my inner introvert pulling it back.

“It’s okay, it worked out alright. I love it here, the college is great, and when I’m done I still have this.”

I nodded back.

“Ok, now it’s my turn for personal questions.”

“I guess that’s fair,” I said.

“So you show up two days before classes start and just assume you’ll find some place to crash. What’s your deal?”

I desperately wanted to say something like that’s just how I roll, babe, or I take life as it comes at me. But of course I didn’t. I told her my whole sad story. The skinny swimmer kid that never took any risks or had any fun until he got mildly good at something, then had it all ruined by a microscopic virus. I watched her beautiful face change as I told the story. Excitement when I won my medal, pity when my senior prom with a pretty girl got canceled. She took my hands and squeezed them. Mine started to sweat immediately.

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

Editor’s note: this submission contains scenes of non-consensual, dubiously consensual or reluctant sexual situations.

*

“Denise, what a fabulous surprise! It’s so good to see you! When did you get back? Why didn’t you call me? I’ve missed you tons you know…”

Ashley could hear her mom’s babbling all the way to her room. Apparently, her mother’s “good old friend” Denise came back from who knows where. Denise used to come over all the time when Ashley was a child. She was really nice. Her mother and She were really good friends. They spent most of their time together, going out and taking care of little Ash. She even slept over sometimes.

Moni became a widow as soon as she gave birth. Losing her husband in a tragic accident. Denise was what you’d call, a true friend. She was always there for Moni. Anyways, Ashley was about 10 years old when Denise left for a new job position in Seattle; or so that’s what her mom told her. They both never heard of her ever since, until now.

“Look at you! -Exclaimed Moni- you haven’t changed one bit!”

Peering over the staircase, 18 year old Ashley watched her mom checking her dear friend out as she twirled, flaunting her beautiful outfit that seemed to cling to every part of her body. Denise hit her 50s this year, yet it barely showed. Standing at 5ft 8, Denise towered over Moni.

Even though both women were beautiful for their age, Denise had really striking features. Her deep green eyes were certainly a killer, hypnotizing anyone that dared making eye contact with her. She caught the attention of both men and women; her long tanned legs attracting all sets of eyes as she walked by.

As if sensing her stare, both women turned their attention to the eavesdropping intruder. Locking gaze with the young Ashley, something seemed to flash in the older woman’s eyes. A mix of confusion and surprise, ‘was it?’ wondered Ashley.

A few seconds passed by, yet they felt like forever for Ashley. Standing up there, under the heated stare of the older strange woman, who was once so close and dear to her little heart.

“Honey! Why don’t you come over here! You remember Denise don’t you? She used to come over all the time when you were little!” finally exclaimed her mom, breaking the silence. Realization hit their eyes, as both Denise and Ashley connected the dots together. Denise couldn’t believe her eyes. This was Ashley? The little girl with the fiery red hair who smiled shyly every time she came over to soothe her mom?

“You used to be so timid and would hide between my legs when…” Tuning her mom’s voice out as she recalled her daughter’s embarrassing stories to her friend; the young redhead, slowly and timidly, makes her way down the stairs. Paying serious attention to every step she took as she descended the staircase.

Ashley looked nothing like her mother. While her mom was a slim brunette, Ashley took after her father. With striking red hair, and her dad’s light grey eyes, Ashley was stunning in every way possible, especially her body.

Ashley was what you’d call an early bloomer. By grade 5, she already had a mature body unlike her schoolmates. Of course, she had trouble getting boys and even teachers stop bugging her. And now, just hitting the tender age of 18, her figure was indeed, to die for.

Ashley was in fact shorter than her mom, only reaching 5ft 3. And busty was she. She always thought her tits made her look fat, so she tended to avoid wearing tight tops and instead hid them behind baggy shirts and hoodies.

Denise couldn’t stop herself from taking a peek as Ashley neared them. Her round mounds swaying as she approached. Even though Ashley was wearing her baggy beige sweater, Denise could still make out the outline of her boobs as she quickly checked her friend’s daughter out. ‘I wonder what she’s hiding under…’ Denise secretly thought to herself.

She had to finally stop staring as Ashley now stood in front of her. Not sure as what to say, Ashley’s panicked gray eyes shifted between both her mom, and her beautiful friend.

“Ashley, wow…you look amazing!” exclaimed Denise, staring right into her eyes. Catching Ashley off guard, she opened both her arms and pulled the younger beauty close to her. Surprised as to what just happened, Ashley stood put with both arms to her side, Denise’s slender arms carefully wrapped around her back and torso.

Ashley wasn’t sure what she was feeling, the hug felt nice, and Denise smelled surprisingly good.

“I can’t believe how much you’ve grown! Oh Moni! How time flies so fast! She was such a sweet little girl, running away and hiding whenever I came to visit. Such a shy baby!”

As much as Denise wanted the hug to last, she had to let her go, the girl was already uncomfortable to begin with.

Pulling her away, Denise stared right down at Ashley, light tiny freckles covered her rosy cheeks. “You’re a very beautiful young woman Ashley,” grinned Denise, her tanned strong hands caressing the softer pale cheeks.

This ardahan escort is so embarrassing, Ashley kept thinking to herself, this gorgeous woman was complementing her, and she couldn’t help but blush. She was sure she looked like a tomato by now.

She was so awkward in such situations. And it didn’t help that the hug felt a little too intimate. Ashley wasn’t much of a hugger. In fact, body contact made her a little too uncomfortable. But she couldn’t tell Denise that, after all she didn’t see her in ages. That wouldn’t be nice.

So, Ashley refrained by smiling timidly and taking a step back. Denise raised her eyebrow, amused by her reaction. She was still as shy as she remembered. Very adorable indeed. She always had a thing for shy, innocent little girls.

Especially busty ones.

Denise loved young girls with big tits. She can’t wait to have her hands on these babies. She wanted to have her right here and then.

But, she had to stop herself. That was wrong. Ashley was Moni’s daughter, her friend’s daughter. The little girl she played dolls with and babysat. She can’t think of her this way. She shouldn’t. Yet, she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t help the naughty thoughts she was having.

She should have felt ashamed, but she didn’t.

For Ashley turned into a very beautiful young woman, her dream woman. And who can resist such a nice rack? Chuckled Denise to herself.

“I know you love my jokes Den” elbowed her Moni goofily,

“I sure do miss them sweetheart” she smiled back at her,

Oh, if she only knew…

And they all made their way to the living room.

************************************************

Ashley was back in her room. Her mom and Denise were still sitting in the living room catching up on the past 8 years of their lives. They have been sitting and talking since Denise came over which was hours ago.

Feeling too overwhelmed and bored of all the gossiping she heard, Ashley politely excused herself, and made her way out of the room. Denise, of course, seized the opportunity to silently check Ashley’s ass out as she left.

Moni never paying attention to anything, brought up yet another thing to discuss with her long lost friend.

It was starting to get dark outside. So Ashley decided to shower and change into her pjs. Feeling all clean and fresh, Ashley put some black leggings on and settled for a comfy white shirt which was a size smaller. Her home was her comfort zone, so it never really mattered what she wore inside. She always felt comfortable and at ease around her mom.

Deciding on not wearing any underwear, Ashley slipped on her tight leggings and shirt that outlined her lovely hourglass figure perfectly.

Moni always thought that her daughter was a bit too naive for her own good. But at the same time, she was glad she didn’t have to chase off horny boys or worse, worry about Ashley getting knocked up!

At her age, Moni would had already experienced with both boys and girls. She considered herself a wild teenager unlike her sweet child.

Speaking of messing around with girls, Denise or Den as Moni used to call her, was a very dear friend. In fact, Den used to soothe her friend in so many ways Ashley couldn’t even guess.

Ashley always thought they were playing a game called “who can scream louder” as her mom told her once.

Anyway, it’s nothing Moni ever considered telling her innocent baby. Now that she was a stunning, mature redhead, Moni herself, can’t keep her eyes off her daughter’s luscious body. But she was her daughter, and she promised herself that nothing, and certainly nothing would ever happen between the two of them.

Regardless, and contrary to what Den thought, Moni was completely and definitely able to tell that her dear friend had the hots for her young girl. The way her eyes blinded with lust ever since she first laid eyes on her, and how she almost drooled as her little girl’s big tits were close to her face.

Her own pussy tingled at the thought of Ashley’s big round mounds which she has only seen in bikinis and only caught glimpse of her puffy big nipples swelling under her shirts.

Oh how she longed to touch them or at least see them, smell them, hold them…

‘If she couldn’t have her daughter herself, thought Moni, her friend might… what’s the catch? Ashely needed experience, and who else could help her get out of her shell and out to the real world? Who else could she trust with her little treasured gem?’ wondered Moni to herself.

“Earth to Moni, earth to Moni, where did that beautiful head of yours go?” chuckled Denise as she sipped on her black tea, staring at her beloved friend sitting on the couch facing her, her face crunched up in thought. “A penny for your thoughts?”

“Huh? Oh I was just thinking…it’s nothing nevermind” replied Moni quickly, gulping down a tall glass of water.

“Woah! Doesn’t sound like nothing at all Moni. Tell me, what’s wrong? You know you can artvin escort trust me.” Muttered Den reassuringly, holding Moni’s hand with her own as she made her way to sit next to her.

“Oh! I-i didn’t realize you were still here…oh no! that’s not w-what I meant! I mean… it’s getting late and- and I thought you left already, so I- I didn’t mean to interrupt..!”

Interrupted once more today by an uninvited guest, both women laughed wholeheartedly at the younger’s attempt to apologize. Little did they know, that both older women had their mind (and hopefully mouth) occupied by the very same oblivious intruder.

****************************************

“Darling, Denise is staying over tonight. And possibly, the next couple of days as well” signaled Moni to her little one.

“Oh am I? Is that so? Don’t I have a say in that?” snickered Den, keeping her eyes on Ashley. Her heated stare busy taking all of her in. Even in simple clothing, she looked so hot, my god.

“And since when do I ask you your permission? Hmm? I’ll be back in a few… Honey dear, why don’t you keep Den’s company whilst I come back?” getting off the couch, Moni kisses her baby’s hot red cheek as she makes her way out of the door.

“Alright! Text me if you need me to buy something on my way home!”

And with that being said, the door closes and the two strangers are left together in the same room.

Dreading the next couple of hours, Ashley stumbles to the sofa. Sitting as far away as possible, on the other side of the couch.

“I don’t bite Ashley, giggled Denise, unless… you want me to.” She smirked, moving closer to the girl who tried scooting further away, nearly falling off the couch.

“Easy there, I’m just messing with you” Holding her in place with her arm, her hand slightly brushing against her left breast. The touch was very light, yet it felt as if electricity went through her little body.

“Uhh, o-okay” muttered Ashley squirming in her seat, more embarrassed than ever.

Denise was so incredibly turned on, sitting all alone with Ashley, after all these years, such a beautiful woman she is. She doesn’t even realize how beautiful she is.

Her predatory alter just wanted to climb on top of her and tear her shirt off.

But she couldn’t, just yet.

Desperate to get the girl talking, Denise tried initiating a conversation, “So Ashley, your mom told me you were such a bright girl. And you are so very beautiful as well… tell me Ash, do you have a boyfriend? Such a lovely girl like you, I’m sure you’d have a lot of boys running after you, am I right?” laughed Denise

“Uh ..I- no, I don’t have a boyfriend…” her voice almost inaudible. ‘Out of all questions, why did she choose to ask me about that!’

Feeling the girl dying of embarrassment, her long red hair hanging over her face covering her angelic features, Den reaches out and brushes a curled strand away from her face.

Gently lifting her chin up to look at her, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable sweetheart. I just wanted to get to know my dear little Ashley” giving her a warm smile.

Encouraged, Ashley timidly smiles back at her “it’s alright”.

“You’ve grown so much ever since I last saw you… Do you remember how we ran around trying to spray your mom with the hose one time-

“-and she ended up slipping!” grinned Ashley widely, interrupting Denise, a cute little dimple visible.

“Yes! She was so wet!” laughed Denise mischievously. “We used to play Doctor too… you used to love that game. Do you remember?”

They were now sitting facing each other on the couch, their feet touching, as they recalled Ashley’s early childhood memories.

“Of course I remember! It was my favorite!” exclaimed Ashley excitedly.

“Why don’t we play it again? What do you say?”

“Really?” wondered Ashley in disbelief. She always wanted to play that game again, but she didn’t want her friends thinking she was too childish.

“Of course Ash. I could be the doctor, and you’ll be my good little patient, won’t you?” stated the older woman with a stern tone.

“Okay! I don’t like being the doctor anyway. It’s no fun” mumbled silly Ashley.

***************************************

“How can I help you Ma’am?”

“Hi Doctor, I think I might be pregnant”

“Is that so? Do you have any specific symptoms?” raised Denise her eyebrow at the choice of concern.

“Um, I’ve been feeling nauseous lately and oh! I’ve been craving a-l- lot of chocolate!” stammered Ashley eagerly

“I see… it seems like you might be expecting, but we’ll have to make sure. Why don’t you take your clothes off and change into that white gown next to you” ordered Denise the younger girl. She can’t believe this is about to happen.

“Oh um…Doc- um D-Denise, there is no g-gown here…I don’t have a-a gown…I’m sorry” embarrassed for stuttering and for not owning a gown, Ashley apologizes once more “I’m s-sorry I can’t bodrum escort even role-play right…”

“It’s okay dear Ashley, we don’t really need a gown. See, it’s all about our imagination, that’s what makes us good actors.” Reassures Denise the little girl, as she kneels in front of her, caressing her cheek. “Now, please, take your clothes off ma’am, I don’t have all day, I’m a busy doctor…”

With that being said, Ashley gets off the couch, bringing her small hands to the hem of her shirt and pulls it off and away her tiny figure. Thinking nothing of it, they were playing doctor after all.

Realizing all too late that she didn’t have her bra on, her big heavy tits swayed and jumped, landing on top of her chest. Even though they were big, they were pert and proud.

Being her clumsy self, and embarrassing herself even more, her quickly taking her shirt off caused the fabric of her shirt to brush harshly against her nipples, which swelled and rose up, greeting Denise’s hungry eyes.

Denise throat was tight and dry. “Uh-h, well, very good m-ma’am. Why don’t you sit back now and face the other side of the wall…” finally managed Denise to hoarsely say.

Bringing herself to sit right behind Ashley, she didn’t know how to go about it.

Ashley’s breasts were everything she ever dreamed of. So big, and perky. Her areolas were large too and pink. Just perfect.

“Alright ma’am, coughed Denise, we’ll start with a routine breast exam to make sure that everything is alright…”

“o-okay doctor” breathed out Ashley, it was starting to get cold in here. And her nipples are definitely reacting to that. That’s what she told herself anyway.

With one hand at each side, Ashley was practically squeezed in between, no way to go to. Slowly and gently, Denise brings both hand up front and timidly cups each boob from below, careful not to touch her nipples.

Her boobs were so soft! Incredible. Denise had to bite her lip to stop herself from moaning right into Ashley’s ear. They were so close. Nearly touching. Ashley smelled so good. Denise couldn’t help but push Ashley’s back deeper into her front, so the only thing separating both women was Denise’s light black sweater.

Rubbing harder into her tits, Ashley was now supporting herself by Denise, she was in a trance, the massage felt so nice. “This feels really good doctor…” confessed Ashley timidly, her chest was flushed.

“I know baby, I’ll help you relax. You can trust me Ashley” convinced her the older woman.

Still trying to avoid her lovely pink nipples, Denise was almost gently kneading both tits with her hands. Each at a time, she would wrap it with both hands, squeeze it a little bit too hard as to get a soft moan out of Ashley’ and shake them up and down, feeling their weight as they bounced freely on her chest.

Denise’s pussy was on fire. Her legs were tightly squeezed shut together as she kept playing with the younger girl’s massive creamy jugs.

Switching back and forth between the lovely breasts, Ashley accidently lets out quite a loud moan she has been suppressing when Denise’s finger accidentally brushed her right nipple. “Ahh!”

Pushing her tits farther out, Ashley was wildly squirming in her seat.

Confused, as if someone set her little coochie on fire, Ashley didn’t know what was happening to her. She was so hot and bothered by that massage session. She didn’t know that was possible.

Incredibly aroused at the site of a wiggly bothered Ashley, Denise could feel her lacy panties soaked wet and clinging to her engorged clit. And squirming Ashley kept hitting her tender spot igniting a fire in her.

Wanting to torture little Ashley even more, her hands still firmly cupping her tits, she lightly touches both nipples simultaneously with her forefingers. Lightly, then more intensely and quickly.

Her rose buds were incredibly tight and hard, standing straight and proud, begging to be touched and sucked.

“O-Ohh.. Ahh!! W-wh-at are y-you doing Doc-t D-deniseee…i-it feels fun-n-y…p-please-” moaned Ashley incoherently as wave after wave of pleasure and confusion washed over her. She wasn’t supposed to feel that way. She doesn’t remember ever feeling this way.

“Shhh babygirl, it’s okay…don’t fight it…moan for mommy Denise baby” ordered her Denise as she lightly bit Ashley’s right ear and licked it. Her hands never leaving her big round melons.

Becoming even more bold and daring, she switches between flicking, pinching and pulling the puffy rosy nipples.

They were about to burst, so long and hard, and never been teased before.

Ashley kept moving and shaking in attempt to get the feeling to stop. It was so strong, so powerful, so much for her little body to take. She couldn’t stop herself from moaning. And her pussy was on fire, yet it felt damp. She was worried she accidentally wet herself.

Bringing her hands between her legs, she pushed harder against her coochie, trying to stop that unknown feeling, all new to her. But she was met with an electrifying feeling. Her pussy trembled and shook as soon as she made contact with her legging covered pussy.

Denise herself couldn’t take it anymore, Ashely’s shaking and moaning was driving her crazy, she just wanted to fuck that tight pussy already.

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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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Graf George saß an seinem Schreibtisch, studierte die Zeitung und wartete auf seinen Diener. Es war jeden Morgen dasselbe Ritual, Tom kam und rasierte ihm den Schritt. Der Graf hasste jedes Haar, das dort wuchs. An sich selbst und an seinen Gespielinnen. Ja, er war zwar verheiratet, doch langweilte ihn seine Frau schnell und so wartete jeden Abend eine andere in seinem Bett auf ihn.

Es klopfte und Tom kam, kniete sich vor ihm hin. Behutsam begann er des Grafens Gemächt einzuseifen und vorsichtig jedes störende Haar zu entfernen. Tom nahm die Creme, massierte sie mit Hingabe ein. Wie sehr er ihn begehrte! Jeden Tag sah er ihn so nah vor sich, kannte jede Ader. Durch das massieren richtete sich der Penis etwas auf, doch der Graf kannte das schon, kümmerte sich nicht darum. Tom schluckte schwer, wie gerne würde ihn nur einmal in den Mund nehmen, ihn verwöhnen, doch er würde damit nicht nur seinen Job riskieren. Doch von Tag zu Tag wurde sein Verlangen größer. Mit Hingabe zog er langsam die Vorhaut zurück, sah die leuchtend rote Eichel.

„Was zum…” fluchte der Graf.

Tom leckte den Schaft rauf, küsste seine spitze, nahm ihn langsam in den Mund.

„Tom!” Er sprang entsetzt auf „was tust du da?” Der Graf griff zum Telefon, wollte jemanden rufen der diesen Perversling aus dem Schloss warf.

„Nicht, Herr” flüsterte Tom und stand zitternd auf, ging langsam auf ihn zu. „Ihr Schwanz, ich…ich musste es tun! Er ist so schön, so…” Er fiel vor ihm auf die Knie. „Bitte, nur einmal!” bettelte er, küsste die Spitze, leckte mit escort çekmeköy der Zunge über die Nille „Dann könnte Ihr mit mir machen was ihr wollt.”

Der Graft kämpfte mit seinen Gefühlen „Nein!” dachte er. “Ich bin nicht Schwul. Doch…” ihm zitterten leicht die Beine „Er machte das verdammt gut. Keines der Weiber hat mir bisher so gut einen geblasen.”

Tom war selig. Langsam wanderte seine Hand zu den Hoden des Grafen, drückte sie leicht. Der Graf versuchte sein Wohlgefallen zu unterdrücken, doch dann stöhnte er auf. Tom blickte glücklich nach oben, intensivierte sein Spiel.

„Nicht!” stöhnte der Graf, krallte seine Hände in Toms Haar „Ich komme gleich”, stieß er hervor, ging dann einen Schritt zurück und setzte sich schwer atmend in seinen Sessel.

Tom nahm allen Mut zusammen, stand langsam auf, ging zum Bett. „Bitte Herr”, hauchte er, zog schnell seine Hosen aus, kniete sich aufs Bett. „Benutzt mich, wie jede Frau in diesem Bett.” Er zog seine Pobacken auseinander, präsentierte sein Loch. „Bitte” flehte er.

Der Graf stand langsam auf, ging auf ihn zu.

„Bitte lasst mich euch spüren”, flehte Tom.

‚Wenn er es so haben will!’ dachte der Graf und legte zaghaft einen Finger auf das zuckende Loch.

„Oh!” stöhnte Tom, zuckte leicht zusammen.

„OK!” raunte der Graf, spuckte aufs Loch, legte seinen Schwanz an. „Du willst es ja so!” Hart stieß er zu.

Tom schrie vor Schmerz und Erregung auf, krallte seine Hände ins Lacken. „Er ist so istanbul eskort groß”, stöhnte er, wollte etwas nach vorne rutschen, doch der Graf packte ihn bei der Hüfte und zog ich an sich.

„Du wolltest es ja so”, raunte er und rammte den Rest seines Schwanzes in Tom hinein. ‚Ist der eng’, dachte er, zog seinen Schwanz etwas heraus, und rammte ihn dann gleich wieder hinein. Beim dritten Mal brach Tom unter ihm zusammen.

Erschrocken stand der Graf auf. Tom drehte sich auf dem Rücken, spreizte seine Beine. „Es ist gut”, sagte er erregt und hob die Hüfte etwas an. Der Graf kniete sich zwischen seine Beine, nahm ein Kissen und legte es Tom unter das Gesäß. Ohne ein Wort drang er wieder hart in ihn ein. Tom wand sich, schrie seine Lust heraus: „Ja Herr…härter….Ja…!”

Schließlich legte Tom seine Beine um die Hüfte des Grafen. Der Graf fickte Tom hart und immer schneller, spürte schon das Ziehen in seinen Hoden und wollte seinen Schwanz herausziehen, doch Tom klammerte sich an ihm fest. „Ich…ich komme auch gleich” stöhnte er und ergoss sich auf des Grafen Bauch.

Zu sehen, wie der Mann den er gerade fickte sich über ihn ergoss, gab dem Grafen den Rest. „Ich…” stöhnte er auf und überschwemmte ihn mit seinem heißen Samen.

Schwer atmend ließ er sich auf Tom fallen. „Herr, ihr wart großartig”, weinte Tom. Der Graf rollte sich von ihm herunter, sein Schwanz rutschte aus Tom heraus. Einige Minuten lagen beide neben einander.

„Besser du gehst jetzt” flüsterte der Graf schließlich, escort içerenköy während er zur Decke hinaufblickte. „Ich brauche…”

Tom stand schweigend auf, nahm seine Sachen und schloss leise hinter sich die Tür. „Ich habe eben einen Mann gefickt!” schoss es dem Grafen durch den Kopf. Er erschauerte, sein Magen krampfte sich zusammen. Und doch, er fühlte sich besser als nach einer Nacht mit zwei, drei oder mehr Frauen. Lange lag er nur so da, stand dann aber doch auf, ging ins Bad und schwor sich, nie wieder darüber zu sprechen oder auch nur zu denken. Am Abend ließ er sich gleich drei Frauen ins Schlafzimmer bringen. Doch egal wie sehr er sie auch fickte, immer dachte er nur an den Anblick von Tom, als dieser vor ihm gelegen hatte.

Den nächsten Tag schloss er sich in sein Schlafzimmer ein, auch als es Nacht wurde ließ er niemanden zu sich. Die Bediensteten wunderten sich, doch nahmen sie an, er hätte sich in der vorherigen Nacht mit den drei Frauen verausgabt.

Am nächsten Morgen klopfte es, doch der Graf öffnete nicht. „Herr?” hörte er nach einiger Zeit und sah, dass Tom durch den Geheimgang ins Zimmer kam. „Herr, ist Ihnen nicht gut?” Er kam langsam näher.

„Was hast du mit mir gemacht?” flüsterte der Graf, stand zitternd auf.

„Wie meint ihr?” fragte Tom vorsichtig, wagte nicht ihn an zu sehen.

„Du hast etwas mit mir gemacht! Immerzu muss ich an das denken, was zwischen uns war.” Tom atmete schwer, sah zum Grafen. „Immer sehe ich dich, spüre dich.”

„Herr…”

„Nein!” schrie dieser. „Ich…” Er ließ sich in seinen Sessel fallen.

Tom stand plötzlich ganz nah bei ihm. „Ich glaube… ich…” Tom lächelte, zog langsam sein Hemd aus. „Ich sagte schon, ich gehöre euch!”

Der Graf lächelte leicht, spürte seine Erregung wachsen. „Du gehörst aber nur mir!” raunte er, zog Tom an sich und küsste ihn.

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

As of late things had been complicated between them as he’d noticed Jess in a less platonic fashion for the first time. Her mesomorph shape was usually obscured by her perennial uniform of oversized sweatshirts, but there were signs of her femininity, nonetheless. The tops of those sweatshirts had become more filled out in recent months, and her development had not gone unnoticed.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never given it much thought.”

“Come on,” she protested, a tooth biting her lip in anticipation. “You’re a guy. You must have thought something.”

“So, guys are sexist pigs?” He fired back knowing he’d scored a point but had probably only delayed the answer.

As if on cue she responded, “Okay, point scored, no it’s not just guys still… I’d really like to know,” she cocked her head in anticipation. Clearly, his answer was insufficient, but when she crossed her arms in front of her, causing her breasts to fetch against the material more, he momentarily lost focus. Why am I noticing her and why now?

Suddenly even more anxious about the inquisition, he dragged his eyes back up to meet hers and fired back, “Well, şişli escort what do you like in your men?”

“I like them smart, caring, and considerate,” she said without hesitation.

“That’s a total cop-out,” he charged. “That has nothing to do with how they look. You wanted to know the physical characteristics from me and…”

“That’s totally secondary to me,” she interrupted with an intense nod.

“Well, how does that secondary feature play out?” he pressed, suddenly interested in something that moments earlier he’d never considered nor cared about much.

“I guess, I’d like them tall, dark, and thin, but like I said, it really doesn’t matter to me.” Jake was already nearly six feet tall, of olive complexion given his Italian background, and wiry. It seemed as if she might be describing him, but Jake knew otherwise. There was no hint of a come-on– though he probably wouldn’t have recognized a come-on even if it hit him over the head with a two-by-four.

“Now, back to my question,” she pressed on, undeterred.

Man, she’s like a dog in search of a bone. Hmm, maybe that is a bad metaphor bağcılar escort for a girl.

“Jake!” she roared, bringing his interior dialogue to a screeching halt. “Tell me!”

“Fine, geez… well if I had to answer, and clearly I do.” Jess narrowed her eyes at him and tapped her foot so loud against the floor that it sounded like a drum section. Jake resigned speaking quickly, finishing with, “She’d be big-breasted, but not sagging and have long thin, maybe fit legs.”

She wrinkled her nose as if he was saying something offensive. “That’s it? Come on. That sounds like a cartoon character.”

“Cartoon characters can be hot,” Jake teased. “Cheetara is scorching.”

Jess released a long breath before demanding, “Jacob Robertson, answer the question!”

“I thought I did,” he frowned.

“When did talking to me become so hard?” She asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said defensively, without knowing why. “I guess I like blondes.” An affirmative grin slid across her face. Jess was about as golden blonde as one could get. Occasionally when she was younger, before the pool pipes escort zeytinburnu had been replaced, her hair even turned green. She was affectionately referred to for several summers as String Bean until she filled out. Was she thinking about me? he wondered again.

“What else?”

“I don’t know. I really haven’t thought about it.”

“You haven’t thought about it? You keep saying that and I don’t buy it.” Her eyebrows stitched together in frustration.

“That’s what I said. Didn’t you hear me? Is this the Spanish Inquisition, or what?”

The room grew quiet. Despite their everyday interactions, they’d literally never fought. This was about as close as they’d ever gotten. For some reason, he was defensive and needed to backtrack a bit. “I tell you what. I’ll ruminate on it a bit,” after I go through the Playboy, “then I’ll introduce a character next week in our game, and you’ll know it’s her.”

“Okay, that sounds fair.” She resumed her seat and they returned to the campaign. They finished up about a half an hour later but when they made eye contact with one another there was an unnatural tension. They ended the evening by having Jess’s character, Morgan, burst into the room of her allies and rejoin the main group. As they said their goodbyes, she let him know she wasn’t backing down from her expectations.

“I look forward to seeing your ideal woman next Saturday. I’ll be early.”

* * *

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 have a secret I’d like to share with you. No one knows it, and since I’m using a pen name you too won’t know who I really am. Once you know what it is you may want to take it from me. But it’s mine. It belongs to me and I own it. Got that? *Wink*

I’m from Japan, and when I went to the U.S.A to study (and eventually live there), it was the first time I was away from home for so long. I also had to kiss goodbye to all my lovers, both young and old. Boy did it take weeks to “kiss” each of them for the last time.

So here I was, in a apartment near campus all by myself, having to do all the household chores on top of studying hard to do my parents proud. I found myself masturbating at least three times a week, more frequently when I reached my fertile stage of the month. It was my own private pleasure time. My whole mind would be consumed by the need to rush home and fuck myself, whether at school or travelling around the country, always resulting in soaked panties between my creamy thighs and a blush on my fair face. Anticipation feeds my sexual appetite, and after the final throes of a huge orgasm, I’m in a state of euphoria the whole day… till I get the urge again. I find playing with my toy much better than having sex with guys. I can control how fast, how deep, how hard I want a cock in my pussy. My toy has one asset that sets it apart from all other sex toys though. It has the ability to read my depraved mind and make my fantasies come true.

Yes, you read that right. Before I left the Narita airport, my auntie gave me a wooden box. She told me to open it only when I felt lonely and needed to release my frustration. I didn’t give much thought about it because it looked like a mini coffin, and she was known as the unpopular eccentric family member. I merely mumbled thanks, stuffed it into my luggage case and checked it in. Without further elaboration, I rued the fact that I cast it aside for months, cast it totally out of my mind.

The first time I opened it, all I saw was this green jelly like mass. A note written by my aunt explained that this was a sex toy and that it would give me many hours of pleasure. You should have seen my puzzled frown and the burst of hysterical laughter that followed. I laughed till I cried. When the last tremors of giggles was over, I though I would try it. After all, there was no harm in it right? Did I ever tell you I’m always curious about things, and have gotten into trouble more than a few times because of my insatiable thirst for knowledge? (Read: danger and excitement *evil grin*)

Feeling a bit silly, I lay down on my bed, picked up the green mass and placed it between my legs. A few seconds passed, and there was a stirring of some sort. It’s hard to describe what actually happened. All I knew was that there was a mental cum spiritual connection between the green jelly and me. The jelly moved and proceeded to rub itself against my clit. Any sane person would be screaming with horror and jumping away from this strange thing. But somehow I knew it wouldn’t hurt me and it wanted to give me pleasure. I was calm, comfortable and soon I got an orgasm. Just a mild one, but it was good enough for the first time.

I decided to name it ‘Apple’ because of its colour and the far off connotation of Adam and Eve falling into temptation all for an apple. The second night, Apple showed off more of its skills. It was doing a great job pleasuring me, his smooth texture against my warm clit, rubbing, sucking (don’t ask me how it does it, I just know what I do feel), even licking! Waves of pleasure washed over me, making me arch my back and press my head into my soft pillow. I couldn’t help but moan and pinch my rosy pierced nipples. The pleasure intensified as Apple increased its pressure and pace. My legs spread further, my pussy juices starting to flow onto Apple, my hands were on my breasts, squeezing them, pinching, pulling and rolling hard my stiff nipples. I have metallic barbells embedded in my small pink nipples, and the pain from the cruel administration mecidiyeköy escort made me gasp with pleasure.

Without warning, Apple slipped into my wet, warm tight pussy and stayed inside. I gasped from the pleasure and slight pain from the harsh intrusion. When I took a quick peek down there, I could still see most of Apple outside my body. Hmmm. Whatever. I couldn’t think. One single thought dominated my entire being at the moment: to reach orgasm. “That thing” had expanded and filled my pussy completely, and it wasn’t a snug fit; my muscled pussy had never before felt so full. My hands gripped the bed sheets for a moment before releasing them and lie quietly on both sides of my sweaty body. That sensation of being full had me totally lost in bliss and my body was under its spell. While Apple slowly slid in and out of my aching pussy, it never stopped its work on my clit. Oh the pleasure! It was much better than any dildo that came with a clit tickler.

In and out it moved, and it increased its pace, going faster and faster. It also went harder and deeper, just the way I wanted it. But the little devil cunningly continued its constant rhythm on massaging my clit. It massaged various points on my clit; on the sides, my pee hole, the pubic mound, rub, rub, rub. Never ceasing, constant speed and pressure. The contrast of movement made me shiver in delight, and my legs trembled because of the oncoming orgasm that was to come.

My moans were getting louder, my head thrashed left and right and I punished my nipples even more. Fingers found their way to my sweet mouth and I hungrily sucked them. I dipped my hand in my pussy to coat it with my juices and jabbed them in my mouth. Warm sweet nectar danced in my warm mouth and my soft tongue. My orgasm meter went up another notch. It wasn’t the taste that heightened the sexual experience; it was the act of finger fucking my mouth. My hips thrust forward and backward wildly to meet the cock that mercilessly fucked me, making my breasts jiggle up and down, building up the volcano inside me. I clutched my full breasts and squeezed real hard, digging into my flesh, pressing the barbells further into my sore nipples.

When the volcano finally erupted, I practically screamed till I was hoarse, my entire body stiffened and elongated, my back arched off the bed making my breasts jut out and my hands were tangled with my black silky hair. Sweat beads adorned my face and I basked in the after effects of my satisfying orgasm. Somehow I managed to put Apple back in his box and tumble back to bed.

For the next few weeks, I experimented with Mr. Apple. Apparently he has the uncanny ability to know my secret desires, and exact the right amount of pressure and speed to make me orgasm. He is like a dream come true, and these are some of his physical capabilities – 1. He can act as a dildo vibrator, pulsing in my pussy, switching from fast to slow and back to fast, keeping me just on the edge of orgasm. Apple can even rotate fully in my pussy while he continues his increasing punishment of poking into and withdrawing out of my pink dripping pussy. He can sense that even though I scream “Yes! Yes! Please let me cum now!” Even though I plead with tears in my eyes, he knows I secretly mean to say, “No, I ache for your artful touch to torture me more. Apple I beg you, please please keep me awhile longer on the plateau before you drop me over!” So he goes slow, Real Slow just to keep my body teetering on the edge but not over it. Fucking evil green putty. Mr. Apple actually restrains me if I attempt to tear him from my pussy. His tentacles quickly wrap around my arms and pull away from my body. A few more will coil round my toned milky legs, drag my entire body unceremoniously down to the edge of my mattress and anchor themselves to the bedposts, leaving my lower body helplessly dangling. My pussy is slightly elevated, which means it is displayed prettily in front of him, and he can tease the sensitive skin between my pussy and my ass. bayrampaşa escort When I yell at him to stop that, I sense him grinning at me while he deftly strokes the dark crevice and to prove his point further, insolently licks my ass rim languorously.

2. Not only can he vibrate, fill up my pussy and fuck me independently, he can choose to tickle my sensitive G-spot. I can feel Apple intentionally stay in my pussy rather than pull out for the next thrust and slowly but steadily, stroke my soft spongy spot. On the outside, Apple will rub my clit. Two hyper sensitive spots, close to each other but on different sides of my flesh, skillfully aroused by warm fingers (that is the closest description I can say about how it feels like) eventually forcing me to orgasm, finishing in shivering sobs. I always feel like a starfish when my orgasm ends: arms flat out or above my head and legs spread wide open.

3. The problem with masturbation is that you only have one pair of hands. If one hand is on your dildo pumping in and out of your wet pussy, you only have one hand left to pleasure your breasts. And how are you going to squeeze your breasts at all if you want to hold your dildo and pinch your clit? The answer to all your problems is the All-In-One Mr. Apple. Now all my masturbation sessions have me lying there, as passive as I can while my toy does all the work. My only job is to moan, cry, scream, arch my back wildly, thrash about, change positions like from the chair to my knees and arms and eventually on my back on my bed, and of course, the most important one, to orgasm magnificently and squirt female cum all over Apple. Apple will send out four green slimy-like tentacles out to wrap around my breasts and tease my nipples. He loves my breasts and nipples just the way he loves my clit; licking, sucking, gentle nips. Once I experimented by wearing nipple rings. The sly fellow wrapped around them and tugged hard, never skipping a beat with his rhythmic pumping of my pussy. When my body reached fulfillment, Apple pulled the rings so hard it felt as if they were going to be torn from my nipples, making my orgasm last a few more seconds, or was it a second smaller orgasm? Hmm, whatever. I’ve since been wearing only nipple rings with tiny bells that tinkle whenever my breasts jiggle hard or the rings are flicked up and down.

4. Besides being a pussy dildo, Mr. Apple enjoys forcing me to suck another cock, while he fucks my pussy AND my ass. All three cocks (I guess it’s easier to call them cocks than anything else) will either synchronise with each other, pulling out and plunging into my orifices or taking turns as if my body was a musical instrument lovingly played by them. Either way it drives me crazy. He plays real rough, three thick cocks fully stretching three tight moist holes, slowly pulling out, but savagely slamming into them over and over again. I love to lick and gently graze him with my teeth, feeling the cock shudder in appreciation. The feeling of being forced to give his cock a deep throat and unable to breathe for a moment, the fullness in my pussy and ass and the occasionally squishy sounds that accompany the fucking is totally sinful. I’m a sucker for feeling violated in every hole. I’m totally spent when all is over. My bed sheets are in a mess, I’m soaked in perspiration, my hot mouth open and panting, my breasts heaving up and down, female cum and pussy juices still trickling out from my used holes. I’m either in the doggy style or lying on my back when he fucks me like this, but there was one time when we did this standing up, and I held on to the pull-up bar above me for dear life. I was on my knees when we were done; my quivering legs could no longer hold me up. Maybe I should try this on my elongated piano stool, with my legs and arms dangling on either side.

There are more ways I can play with Apple. The more I learnt and experimented, the better the sex was. The Internet was the oft-used tool to find more exotic ways for self-pleasure. escort bahçelievler I love it when my long silky hair gets tugged hard, especially when I’m in doggy style and Apple yanks my hair so that my face is forced up and made to pleasure his cock. My slutty nipples beg to get clamp real hard and my pussy lips also crave attention, demanding to be cruelly pulled apart and gripped tightly. The sudden sharp bite on my clit always elicits a shrill scream from my tortured throat; a vicious nip and a hard suck on my tender nipples which are already stretched away from my breasts gets a louder shrill out of me. Getting my clit hood and inner pussy lips pierced were the best investment I ever made. Mr. Apple never fails to toy with them. I thought I was the teacher, but my wonderful toy always takes our enjoyment one step further and makes our playtime more erotic, more decadent.

I once made him tear my flimsy nightclothes off. As usual, I placed him on my abdomen. He was such a teaser, playing with my body getting me all hot and wet before tearing the camisole and g-string panty from my slim trembling body. I now know it hurts when my clothes are savagely torn from my body, and more so when my thong has been pulled up tight so that it cuts into my pussy lips and presses against my clit. The pain was so good when he spanks my pussy with the thong still pulled tight. But Apple didn’t want me to get too comfortable. Two tentacles hooked onto the side strings and ripped off the soaking wet panty. The pain was equivalent to a Brazilian wax. I hope my beautician never notices that I get wet from her clinical work on me. But I guess it’s hard to ignore a trail of pussy juice slowly making its way from my pussy hole, to my ass crack and leave a souvenir on the towel that was on the couch.

Anyway, back to the story. Then he proceeded to gently ‘make love’ to me. I was caught off guard when I found myself blindfolded, and mouth forcefully stuffed with the torn bits of clothing. I was spread like a starfish and the only parts of my body that could move were the muscles in my pussy and butt. No, make it my fingers and toes too. They flexed and curled up, a reflexive action from the body and mind torture I was subjected to and had no control over. Mr. Apple became the Dom., I was the willing slave. I swear he has a mind of his own. These were the times when he takes over the scene, and I’m totally at his mercy. I hate it when I know that he knows that I want to be “raped” hard, fucked and used however he pleases. Dark fantasies played out secretly in my perverted mind but never revealed in physical form are now revealed in the open. Sometimes he forces me to orgasm because he has a tentacle up in my womb, stroking my innermost womanhood. Oh that audacious lover of mine.

We’ve tried almost everything, including strangling me while I reached the peak of ecstasy, and forcing me to have countless of orgasms the whole night. Female cum and pussy juices mingled on the bed sheets, the floor and my lover couch. Body totally exhausted, tears flowed and dripped with my sweat. I drank lots of water because of all the lost body fluids, whew. My pussy was sore for three days and it smart a little when I peed. But it was a damn good fuck. Think about it – no guy can ever give you orgasms over and over the whole night. He can only purposely bring you to the brink and build up all that excitement again, but he can only have that much energy to entertain you. Ever since I got Mr. Apple, I never fucked another guy. The last time I fucked a hunk, Apple somehow knew, and he punished me by withholding my release for a long time. When he was satisfied that I had learnt my lesson and I was screaming, begging and sobbing real badly, he finally plunged into my ass, squeezed my breasts real hard, and sucked hard at my clit.

Tonight, I want Mr. Apple to fuck my three holes again and leave a dark red love bite on my neck when I arch my back for the final time. Then I’ll sleep well, ready for tomorrow’s life challenges.

In a little box, in the dark, a green slimy mass of goo sits quietly. He’s waiting for his lover to take him out and pleasure her. “You’re mine, always. You will have no other lovers. All your juices fuel me, give me energy. Body and soul, I own you. You belong to me, you’re mine, all mine.” He chants over and over again.

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

You had invited me to a Wiccan rite on Samhain, All Hallows Eve (that would be Halloween to you and me). It was a cold night and joints, long since abused by military life and martial arts, were aching. I don’t know why I agreed, but I did so I tagged along.

I was to be a spectator only, which suited me just fine as all religions to me seemed the same. You smiled at me, trying to put me at ease and actually succeeding. You knew that I was uncomfortable in social situations where I did not know many people. And you truly appreciated my coming to keep you company. Seeing you smile, I was reminded exactly how lucky your husband, my friend, truly was.

I stood there, watching, as the ritual began. For the most part, I just tuned it out. Regardless of the trappings, to me, religions were all the same. But as the ritual continued, I could feel something slowly building up, like static electricity floating through the air.

The night was chilly, but clear. Or at least it had been clear. Despite the predictions made by the local meteorologists, clouds began to roll in, slowly at first but quickly gaining speed. The sound of distant thunder could be heard throughout the night. The usual sounds of the night, the insects and night birds, slowly faded away, as if Nature herself sought not to disturb this rite.

The sounds from the Circle grew to a fevered pitch and the feeling of static electricity in the air was growing strong enough to make the hairs on my arm stand on end. I shivered, but not merely from the cold. Even as cynical a skeptic such as myself could feel something was happening.

A sudden motion from outside of my peripheral vision caught my eye. I turned in time to watch a drunk local throwing a beer bottle. The bottle flew through the air and I leapt out to catch it.

Not fully understand why or how, I knew that if that bottle broke the plan of the circle that had been painstakingly drawn, the result would not be good. But even at my fastest, I was not quite fast enough. My hand wrapped around the bottle just as the neck broke through the plane.

The night’s silence was broken by a powerful thunderclap that set off alarms and shattered windows all around for nearly a mile. A bolt of lightning then lit the night as brightly as the sun did the day. The bolt split in two, one fork striking me and the other striking you, knocking us both off of our feet.

I shakily stood up, dusting myself off, undamaged and my eyes quickly darted over to escort taksim you, relief filling me when I saw you were as unhurt as I. The rite was irrevocably interrupted, no hope of salvaging and no point to finishing. Everyone gathered their belongings and began to leave, saying their farewells to each other. I could not stop the smile that crossed my face as I saw you again, unhurt.

I rushed over to you, hugging you tightly. You were my friend’s wife, but you had come to be very special to me. The thought of you possibly getting hurt was almost too much to bear. As our hands touched, a small spark leapt out, arcing between us and making us both jump, startled.

We shared a quick laugh and then we left. You were still shook up from the events of the night, so you asked me to drive. As we drove along, I noticed a subtle change come over you. The change was hard to describe. It was almost as if there was another face superimposed over your own. The face was a beautiful one. Not more so than your own face, merely different.

Somehow, the almost invisible visage seemed to accentuate your own beauty, as if drawing out that inner beauty that I already knew was there. You smiled at me and leaned over, resting your head on my shoulder. Your hand fell, casually, coming to rest on my thigh and you sighed, contentedly.

It was a long drive, made in near total, yet surprisingly comfortable, silence. Your hand traced patterns on my thigh. The patterns appeared random, and yet they felt vaguely familiar, eliciting flashes of memories that were gone before they could be fully realized.

The patterns moved further and further up along my thigh, softly and tenderly. I grew harder and harder as each moment passed. Gradually, your hand approached my crotch until, finally, your hand caressed me through my jeans.

I groaned as your hand began to release the buttons holding me in. I knew that I should stop you, but something within me would simply not allow it. Once I was freed, you began to stroke me, smiling beautifully at the groans I could not suppress.

Then you leaned down, taking my hard cock into your warm, inviting mouth. Your tongue and lips were performing acts upon my stiff member that were beyond masterful. Your skills bordered on, and quickly crossed over into, the realms of the magical.

Try as I might, I could not hold back for long. I exploded into your mouth, a feral growl escaping my lips. You swallowed every last drop, escort topkapı not wasting any. Somehow, I managed to maintain control of the car, not so much as swerving.

Up ahead, I knew there would be a well hidden road leading into the darkened forest. How I knew it would be there, or that the road would be able to accommodate this car, I would never be able to explain. I simply knew it would be there.

I pulled over, driving down an old road and parked when I could go no further. We climbed out and, without speaking, walked into the forest. We unerringly found our way to a large clearing. It was as if we had both been here hundreds of times before, even though I knew for a fact that neither of us had.

I looked at you, marveling at the change that seemed to come over you. You seemed taller somehow, your skin even paler than usual, almost glowing under the full moon. That the moon had only been a crescent earlier this night, slowly waxing to full, never once registered. There were faint, pale blue images shifting on your skin, as if you were covered with living tattoos. Your normally shoulder length black hair seemed longer and had taken on a dark, reddish tint, the color of deep burnished copper.

Yet, despite all these changes, it was still obviously you. The woman you were still stood there, visible and recognizable. It was as if there were two different people peacefully coexisting, merely sharing the same space.

The look in your eyes, as you bit your lower lip in hunger and desire, told me that some change had come over me as well. There was a small pond in the clearing, clear and calm in the moonlight. Hoping to see some vestige of what you were seeing, I knelt down and stared, astounded, at the man reflected back at me.

Staring back into my eyes was a rugged face. Sprouting from my head was a beautiful rack of antlers. My skin had darkened, weathered by years exposed to the sun. I was staring into the hard, grey eyes of an ancient legend.

I stood, turning to face you. In the few, short moments I had been staring at my reflection, your clothes had been removed. You stood before me, resplendent in the moonlight. Even though I had never before see you in this state, I knew that the body standing before me was entirely you, unaltered by whatever magics were affecting us.

You flowed over towards me, gracefully lowering to your knees before me. With a few, quick movements, you had me as naked as were escort şirinevler you. You took my stiff member back into your mouth once more. I allowed you to lick and suck me for but a few moments. On her knees was no place for a goddess or the vessel she chose to inhabit.

I gently stood you up, kissing you reverently. My hands roamed all over, caressing every inch that I could reach. I took your lovely, rosy nipples into my mouth, each in turn. Then I knelt down, preparing to worship this lovely goddess at the oldest of temples. You raised one leg, laying it over my shoulder and bracing against me as my lips and tongue found their way to your holy altar. I slid my fingers into you, savoring that nectar that flowed freely from you. You moaned as I licked your throbbing clit. I continued on until you exploded with a glorious shout.

You collapsed against me, flowing to the soft ground as if you were melting. As you stretched out, you spread your legs invitingly. I moved myself in, not wanting to disturb the sense of sanctity that permeated the night. I slid myself into you, your wetness drawing me in deeply.

A simultaneous moan escaped our lips, our passions given voice. My motions began slow and gentle, in tender reverence with each thrust. But the reverence was soon overcome and replaced with a frenzied revel. I began to thrust in harder and harder.

Your body ground against mine, your head thrown back and nails digging furrows into my back. My motions took on a frenzied thrusting, bringing us both closer and closer to that ultimate end to the ultimate communion. Your moans intermingled with mine, filling the night air.

Finally, we reached that pinnacle of rapturous union, that point that so many strived for yet failed to reach. Your body arched off of the ground as mine began to buck wildly, almost uncontrollably. I shouted, very nearly a roar, as I exploded within you. You screamed as your own orgasm ripped through your body.

Your orgasmic scream merged with my primal roar, tearing throughout the night. Our sounds were quickly joined by the triumphant exclamations of every animal in the forest. It was a joyous celebration of sound.

I nearly collapsed, spent and exhausted, fatigued more than could be explained by our exertions, strenuous as they may have been. We were both panting heavily, coated in a sheen of perspiration. I looked into your eyes, the otherworldly presences now gone. Neither of us were sure exactly what had happened but we knew it had been something special, something holy. Our exhaustion more than we could handle, we curled into each other, falling into a deep slumber. We were unconcerned with the cold, know that, even though who or whatever had ridden us had departed, they were not done with us quite yet.

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