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In The Spa

By: Jo_porn



My name is Corrina. I've got long, dark hair, a nice athletic body and I kind of get the impression that I'm fairly gorgeous. I hate saying that, but the fact is that I get told how hot I am by guys all the time. 

This story is about something that happened to me a couple of years ago when I was living with a few friends in a house we were renting.

It was Saturday and I'd slept in a bit, but was still up early enough to go for a quick jog and be home before anyone else got up. I decided to have a shower before breakfast and got undressed in the bathroom before stepping into the shower. The hot water felt so good and I stood there for a few minutes with it washing over my face and down across my breasts and the rest of my body. Finally I grabbed the soap and started lathering up my body, paying extra attention to my breasts and pussy. I started getting really turned on soaping up my pussy and before long I was rubbing my clit.

It occurred to me that I was wasting water though, so I finished washing myself and turned the shower off.

Stepping out of the shower I grabbed a towel. As I was drying myself I heard a knock on the door.

"Can I come in," it was one of my friends Emma.

"Yeah," I said and continued drying myself.

Emma, opened the door and stepped into the bathroom. 

"Been jogging this morning have you?" she asked.

"Yeah," I replied. I watched as she did a mock striptease in front of me. We were never worried about being seen naked by each other. She has an awesome body as well. Long legs, perfect ass, a flat stomach and big perfectly shaped tits. With her long dark hair and beautiful face she was an absolute knockout.

She stepped into the shower and I continued to marvel at the sight of her through the glass. I didn't consider myself bisexual, but sometimes I got really turned on by the sight of a gorgeous woman and she was that.

I had a bit to do that day, so shaking myself out of the rapture I was in I finished drying myself and then got dressed and had breakfast before walking down to the bus stop.

I didn't get home until that evening. Emma was just rinsing her wetsuit.

"Have you been surfing," I asked her.

"Yeah," she replied.

"Why didn't you ask me?" I complained pouting.

"We just decided to go this afternoon and you were out, sorry," she said.

I watched her finish rinsing her wetsuit and hang it out.

"I was going to have a spa, wanna join me?" she asked and gave me a cheeky wink. We always flirt with each other, it's usually just a game, but today I was feeling different.

"Sure sexy," I said and gave her a wink,

"But where is everyone?"

"Out," she said and disappeared down the hallway.

I went to my room and got undressed, I put on my bathrobe and met Emma in the ensuite. She'd already turned the taps on and had half filled the spa.

When it was full we both dropped our robes and stepped in.

Carefully sinking our asses into the steaming water we, both sighed.

"That is so what I need," I said.

We sat there for a while soaking on opposite sides of the spa, not saying anything. I had my head tilted back with my eyes closed when I felt a hand on my thigh. I opened my eyes. Emma had moved over closer to me and began running her hand up and down my leg.

"Mmmm, that feel's good," I whispered.

"You like that?" she asked me.

"Mmmm, yeah," I replied.

"Well what about this?" she asked and moving down in the water to where her mouth could reach my tits, she began licking and sucking one of my nipples.

"Oh fuck yeah," I moaned. Reaching over I began rubbing my hand up and down her back and across her ass.

"Yeah, that's nice," she said.

I felt her hand on my thigh slowly stroking higher and higher until it was pressed against my pussy. My mouth dropped open at her touch and a second later her tongue was snaking into my mouth. We kissed passionately before she pulled me up and bent me over the edge of the spa with my ass sticking up in the air. She ran her hands all over my ass for a minute before leaning forward and sliding her long tongue across my pussy. 

Before long she had me groaning and shaking as her tongue tickled my clit and I felt an orgasm approaching.

Suddenly my body went rigid as it hit me and I groaned,

"Oh fuck!!"

When I stopped trembling I turned around and looked at her, she gave me a cheeky grin.

"Wanna do something for me now," she asked.

"Sure," I said.

She smiled,

"Wait here," she said and getting out of the spa, she quickly ran down to her room.

She was back a minute later holding a pink dildo. It was one of those smooth ones with no ridges or anything but it was big, at least twelve inches long and pretty thick too.

Stepping back into the spa, she handed the dildo to me.

"Fuck me with this," she said and took up the position I'd been in a couple of minutes earlier.

I grinned at her then, leant forward to run my tongue across her pussy for a moment as well, then when I was satisfied she was nice and wet I began to push the dildo inside her.

She moaned at the penetration and as I pumped it into her she started pushing back against it.

Reaching under her with my other hand I stroked her clit which made her moan even louder.

Turning her head to look at me, she rolled her eyes to let me know how much I was effecting her.

"Oh, that's so fucking good," she moaned.

"You like?" I asked her pumping the dildo into her even faster.

"Fuck yeah," she said, before asking,

"Can you use your tongue on my ass?"

I responded by leaning forward and licking down her back until I got to her ass and she arched her back so that her asshole was fully exposed. I circled my tongue around it for a moment before pushing it right against the hole and started fucking at her ass with my tongue.

"Oh fucking yeah, I'm cumming" she cried out and started shaking with an orgasm.

Just then the door opened, it was our other housemate Chris.

"What the..." he said, his jaw dropping open. Chris is really cute and works out a lot, so I just said,

"Hi, wanna join the party?"

He was undressed in a flash and stepped into the spa.

"What should I do?" he asked us, still standing.

Emma had stopped shaking from her orgasm and was the first to respond. Reaching up she grabbed his cock and gave it a few slow strokes before taking him in her mouth.

He groaned with pleasure,

"Oh fuck, that feels great," he said.

Moving in closer to them I leaned forward and started licking at his balls, then Emma pulled her mouth away and I took his hard cock in my mouth slowly sliding forward until I felt his cock start to slip into my throat. He has a pretty big cock and it was almost too much for me, but I managed to fit the whole lot in and started bobbing my head back and forth loving the sound of his groans.

While I was doing that Emma had reached between my legs and was rubbing my clit again, I reached across and returned the favour, although I was having a bit more trouble coordinating my movements.

Chris was watching us and hissed through his teeth,

"You guys are so fucking hot."

"Yeah, you think so?" asked Emma,

"Wanna see something REALLY hot?" 

Chris and I both agreed and Emma got out of the spa and went to the cabinet and got out a tub of vaseline.

Stepping back into the spa she bent herself over the edge again, then scooping a big dollop of vaseline up with her fingers she reached behind herself and began rubbing the vaseline onto her tight asshole. I had stopped sucking on Chris' cock to watch her but started stroking it hard and began rubbing my own clit as Emma slid two fingers into her ass, letting at small sighs of pleasure as she did.

Chris was going nuts watching her and suddenly cried out,

"Fuck I'm gonna cum,"

Emma spun around,

"Cum on our faces," she said.

I kept jerking his cock and a few seconds later Chris let out a yell as cum shot from his cock.

I was pointing his cock at Emma's face and the first couple of blasts splashed on her nose and mouth, then I moved in and caught a couple of blasts on my face. I let go of his cock as Emma grabbed me and we kissed passionately, Chris' cum smearing over both our faces.

Chris sank down into the spa,

"Wow," was all he said.Emma wasn't finished yet. She wrapped her hand round his cock,

"I think there's a lot of life left in this guy, let's put on a bit more of a show babe," she said to me.

I nodded at her and leant forward and took one of her nipples in my mouth, reaching up to massage her other breast with my hand.

She let me focus on her chest for a minute before grabbing me and dragging me over to the edge of the spa.

"Bend over," she commanded.

I did and she grabbed the dildo and the vaseline.

"Ever had a cock in your ass Corrina," she asked me.

I shook my head.

"Well it's about time you did then," she said.

Scooping out some more of the vaseline she began massaging my asshole. It felt great and when she started pushing her fingers up my ass I let out a loud moan of pleasure. She pumped her fingers in and out slowly for a minute before pulling them out and placing the tip of the dildo against my asshole.

"Ready?" she asked. 

I nodded and she began to slowly push the dildo into me.

It felt huge, I almost told her to stop, but I still wanted to put on a show for Chris. Emma rubbed my clit as she pumped the dildo into me and soon I began to shake with the approach of another orgasm. She pulled the dildo from my ass,

"What are you doing?" I cried.

"Chris' ready for some more action I think," she said.

I looked at him and saw that his cock was rock hard again, he stood up and moved in behind me as Emma moved out of the way. Positioning his cock against my ass he pushed in. It went in a little easier than the dildo and soon he was fucking hard into my ass. My orgasm started to build again and when Emma reached under me again and began rubbing my clit, I exploded.

I let out a groan of ecstasy and slammed my ass hard onto Chris' cock, that pushed him over the edge as well and with another yell he shot another load of cum right up my ass. I could feel his cock throbbing each time his cum shot out of it and I moaned with pleasure at the feeling.

Then he pulled out of me and Emma dove forward planting her mouth firmly against my ass, sucking and licking to get at Chris' cum.

Chris sat down next to me and I moved my head around and took his cock in my mouth again. It was covered in cum and tasted of my ass but I sucked at it with vigour, feeling transported to another state of pure sexual indulgence. Glancing back at Emma I saw that she'd pushed the dildo into her own ass now and was groaning as she continued to suck at my ass.

We stayed in the spa for another hour, fucking and sucking until we finally exhausted ourselves.

In the Spirit of Things



Peg suggested that I wasn't doing too badly, but she doubted if there would be any Academy awards. "If you're not careful, your actors might fall asleep out of boredom." She had a way about her that made me laugh rather than have my feelings hurt. "Look, Anne, I know you must be ready to play. Why don't you take a little direction from me for a while?" She told Sam to lay still, and then turned her face back to me. "Do whatever you see me do to Sam. I'll take this side of him and you take that side." Ok so far. 

Peg started at Sam's shoulder, and licked to his hand on the right side. I nervously did the same on the left. Then she leaned close to him, her face next to his, and began to tongue his right ear. I followed suit on the left. She traced around his right nipple, and I teased his left. Sam was definitely enjoying this double treat, and I was beginning to warm up to it. I was amazed at how easily Peg was introducing me to this sexual play. This went on for some time, me mimicking on one side what Peg did on the other. Eventually we were working up the outside of his legs then from his toes, to his kneecap, then up to his torso. Back down again and slowly up from instep to inner thigh. I was getting a bit uneasy, watching Sam's cock dance and twitch with a life of it's own, like a snake ready to strike out at me at any moment.

Peg paused a moment and looked me in the eye, both to reassure me and to be sure she had my attention. Then she flicked out her tongue and quickly licked the side of Sam's cock. She lifted her head up and gave me a sly smile. Her smile was playful, her eyes silently asking if I was ready to play. I hesitated for a moment, then I followed suit. She pulled Sam's erect cock back a little and licked the underside, sliding her tongue slowly up from balls to tip. My mouth was dry with anticipation, but I managed to do the same. 

My nipples were hard against Sam's chest, my panties damp against his leg. I was getting more and more excited. When I heard catlike purring moans from Sam, I was positively hot. I stood up and slowly peeled off my panties in the most suggestive way that I could imagine. I dropped them coyly on Sam's chest, and moved my hands to my pussy. I slowly ran my fingers through my sex, spreading myself open for Sam to see. I found it hard to believe, but Sam's cock looked even bigger. Peg, not to be outdone, began a fabulous strip tease for Sam. She moved her hips in an exotic, erotic dance, the toes of her beautiful right foot trailing sensually from his chest to his cock. The sole of her foot was rubbing Sam's cock in a slow rhythm as she slinked out of her panties.

Peg made the most erotically lewd display of her pussy as she lowered herself back down and put her mouth over Sam's shaft, humming lightly. Sam's moan and her hum made a strange sound! Her lips were sliding Up and down Sam's shaft as she looked at me again. I didn't move. Peg slowly raised her head, a thin line of saliva ran from her lips to Sam's cock. I had dreaded this moment, but his cock was beautiful; wet, hard, marbled, deep red, and pulsing. She looked at Sam's exquisite cock, then looked at me. Peg was probably wondering how long I was going to be this little goody two-shoes who had never had a cock in her mouth. 

I flushed with anger. She knew that I didn't want to suck his cock. His engorged, beautiful, cock. I didn't want to lose the moment. I decided that if I did this quickly it would be over, and I could vent at Peg later. I closed my mouth gently over the tip. Sam moaned and thrust forward a little. I immediately raised my head. Peg looked at me with approval, her eyes and smile silently encouraging me. She took his cock in her hand again, kissing his balls slowly. We continued this for a few minutes, licking here, sucking lightly there, me always following her lead. I was happy to discover that mixing our saliva and Sam's pre-cum wasn't as disgusting as I had thought it would be. A little stringy, but very sensual. Still, I was wet and very ready to move on to something else if Peg would just get through playing with Sam's cock. I gave Peg a look and whispered, "Are we through here yet?"

Peg grinned and nodded. One last time she took Sam's cock in her mouth. She drew him deep into her mouth and sucked one, then two more times. Sam's moans were almost continuous now. "Last time" Peg whispered in my ear as I took my turn. I slid his cock between my lips, just into my mouth. I tried to mimic Peg as best as I could. I sucked once, sucked twice, and then thought "I'll give him one to grow on." I didn't really think this warm, stiff, dick in my mouth could get any bigger, but I felt it swell. Suddenly Sam yelled "Look out!". I felt his cock spasm in my mouth, but I didn't have the experience to put it together with what was happening. My mouth suddenly filled with Sam's warm, salty, juices. I was so startled that I swallowed most of it before I even realized it.

Sam was breathing hard, apologizing between breaths. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I was fighting the feeling that I was going to get sick and throw up all over Sam. 

Peg, knowing that this was a complete disaster, yelled out in her most theatrical imitation of a drunken sailor "Thar she blows." I giggled, then broke up laughing. We hugged one another and laughed ourselves silly.

---

When the hilarity subsided I realized that I was quite pleased with myself. Having his thing in my mouth wasn't so bad after all. In fact, I realized that I had really enjoyed it. It slowly dawned on me the power I had over a guy! Sam, for his part, was both apologetic and grateful. Peg suggested that we take a shower and then head to another party.

"What a shame" I said to Peg as Sam got up and walked out of the room. Her look was a mixture of curiosity and amusement. That wonderful cock that stood so at attention during our lovemaking was pitifully flabby. "I am so wet. I sooo wanted to fuck him."

While Peg and I showered I was full of mixed feelings about what I had experienced. I had been so excited and filled with such anticipation about Sam filling my pussy with his cock, but he had filled my mouth instead. "It's too bad he didn't last", I mused to Peg. I watched as Peg soaped up. I imagined Sam's hands slowly caressing my breasts, a lather of soap forming under his fingers. I felt his strong hands washing my legs and ass. I sighed as he traced soapy circles down my tummy and over my pussy. "Peg?" I sighed and stretched as she scrubbed my back. "Why do guys think it is such a big deal to cum in a girl's mouth? I was so hot and ready for him. I really didn't want to suck his cock. I was so hot and wet, he could have fucked me and we both would have enjoyed the experience." 

Peg shrugged. "It's a mystery to me, but I've stopped thinking about the why. Pleasing men is easy," she went on, "pleasing theatre audiences, now that's hard." She told me that of the few guys she had had sex with, everyone of them tried to work things around to get a blow job. "They like it, and I enjoy it so I do it. But," she said, "It's not wise for everything to happen in act one; you should always save something for the third act." A moment later, she added "Was it really all that bad?" 

I had been thinking about that. Hearing about sucking a guy's cock made it seem really gross. Why not just get them off with your hand? But once I had gotten started with the little licks and sucks, I had to admit that I liked it. I remembered the sense of elation and power I had over Sam. When I had Sam's cock in my mouth, I was the only thing he was focused on. 

Peg and I had just finished putting on our costumes when Sam walked back into the room, a loose towel draped around his waist and that silly pith helmet on his head. "Allow me to introduce myself," said Sam as he walked over to the bed where we were sitting. "I am Dr. Sam, the famous explorer. I have spent many years studying the legends, sweltering in the heat, and suffering through the pests of the jungles to come to you. I have discovered this, your long lost temple of the goddess Ohmeohmy, in the dense jungles of the Amazon." He dramatically waived his hand around the room. "It is written in the ancient scrolls," he continued, "that if one pleasures the twin priestesses of the temple, he will find great treasure." 

The look on Peg's face was a startled mixture of 'you must be kidding' and 'let the play begin!'. I did a quick glance and saw that things were beginning to look up, cock-wise, so to speak. Sam bowed and asked us to stand side by side that he might bask in our sexual energy. Then he placed Peg's and my arm around each other's waist, facing him.

He fell to his knees in a worship posture and mouthed various words of praise, commenting on various aspects of our bodies and what gifts he would bring us. Peg was in her element. She loosened the rope belt holding her costume together, and teasingly opened her skirt to reveal her panties. "You may demonstrate your devotion to us, but do not fail us as those who came before you have or you shall regret the day you began your journey". My respect for Peg's sexual prowess was definitely at a new high.

Sam crawled forward on his hands and knees, "I humbly apologize for those who did not have the willpower to please you as you deserve to be pleased." The dialogue was surreal, but Sam's face inches from Peg's crotch was an erotic sight. He kissed and licked her tummy, moving slowly down towards the crease of her pussy, visible under her wet panties. He nipped at her panties, pulling and tugging with his teeth.

It didn't take me long to opened my costume as Peg had, and offer myself to Sam. He moved to shower me with kisses and licks up my legs. He ran his tongue along the leg band of my panties at the top of my thigh, moving patiently down to my rapidly dampening crotch. My legs grew weak as he blew hot breath through the thin fabric onto my lips. His tongue teased my clit through my panties. His teeth pulled at my crotch, gently catching my skin before pulling away. Then, without warning, he ran his tongue once from bottom to top of my pussy lips. "Oh-me," he intoned. I was momentarily startled, then felt an immense throb of pleasure wash over me. Immediately he had done the same thing to Peg, intoning "Oh-my." 

"You please us." Breathed Peg in a rough whisper. She regained her composure slightly, and continued "No poet or painter has expressed their devotion as skillfully as your tongue." Sam was bowing his head at our feet as Peg spoke. "You may take any gift from this place that you desire." She was really into her part, and I wasn't about to point out that this was very corny.

Sam slowly reached up and put his fingers under the waistband of my panties. "I am not worthy but to take but a simple token from you" he said as he slid his fingers under the elastic. He pushed his hands downwards, raking his fingernails gently over my hot skin. I was flushed, my head light and ready to fly away as he slid my panties slowly down my legs. I was thrilled. My heart was pounding, my pulse racing, my palms sweating against Peg's costume. Sam moved to Peg and repeated the process. As he drew her panties down over her sex, he gave her light kisses. Peg swayed against me as Sam sat back and lifted the moist crotch of each panty to his nose. A look of utter rapture came over his face as he inhaled our scents. It felt strangely exciting to know that I had been in them, wet to the point of distraction, most of the night. "Oh, sweet nectar of the Goddess" Sam intoned. "Your simple gifts are ambrosia to a mere mortal." They must have been something, because his cock was hard and jerking of it's own volition between his legs. An hour ago his cock had done that, and I had wound up with a mouth full of cum.

"Careful, explorer". Peg replied in a tone that betrayed her sense of impending disaster. "If you fail to please us you will regret it for eternity." She definitely didn't want a repeat of Sam's earlier performance. "Now, worship the Goddess" she added, thrusting her hips forward. Sam eagerly moved between her legs, his tongue sliding erotically over her pussy, his hands slowly teasing circles on her ass. He then moved to me, my legs weakening as he licked and sucked at my clit. Strong hands on my bottom pulled me onto his face. I had never felt so utterly devoured. He continued his back and forth worship with "oh-mes" and "oh-mys" at every lick. I soon found myself thrusting out in anticipation.

Then Peg spoke softly, shivers marbling her voice. "Oh worthy supplicant, the worship with your tongue I find most pleasing indeed, but if you say "oh-my" once more I'll strike you with a thunderbolt!"

We all giggled. My arm was still wrapped around Peg, and I could feel the orgasm beginning to ripple through her. At that Sam knew to stop using his tongue for speaking, and doubled his licking. Each time I felt his tongue and mouth against me, however, I would say "oh-me" under my breath in spite of Peg. This explorer knew his territory! He'd wiggle his tongue in the right places, using a finger occasionally to supplement his efforts. He reached up under my costume and pinched my nipples gently. That was the only cue I needed. I quickly pulled the rest of my costume off. It was deliciously decadent watching Sam licking Peg, and sometimes he would gently rub my clit with his finger. Sam didn't favor either of us. We were both given the same exquisite treatment. I found myself looking at his beautiful cock each time he moved between us. It had truly bloomed once more!

Every fiber of my body told me that I was getting deliciously close to a stellar climax. Peg's little moans, slowly getting louder, and her breath coming quicker told me that she was ready to cum. And then Peg began to shudder. Sam pushed us gently back down onto the bed, Peg whimpering as she plunged into her orgasm. I began to fingering myself as Sam pushed his cock into Peg. She was cumming, her orgasm wracking her body in shuddering waves. She hugged Sam close as she slowly relaxed. 

Sam pulled out of Peg and moved to enter me. The feeling of his cock pushing deep into my pussy made me sigh. He began to fuck me. His slow, deep thrusts spread a fire through my body that I had never felt before. I cried out as he pushed me into heaven. Shallow teasing strokes gave way to deep hard thrusts against my body, Sam grunted like a rutting animal each time his balls slapped my ass. He spoke between ragged breaths. "The ... ancient ... scrolls were ... right," he whispered as he thrust back and forth, his cock filling me completely. 

"How?," I asked weakly. "I have ... found ... the great ... treasure." His words were no longer a funny gimmick, they were simply thrilling to a young coed who was just discovering her sexual potential. I began to cum. After several more quick thrusts, I had the most delicious sensation of my sexual life as I climaxed in a beautiful array of shudders, cries, and passionate kisses with Sam. Soon I felt his body stiffen as he gave a final moan that reverberated in my chest and ejaculated inside of me.

Even Peg, never at a loss for words, was too spent to make smart remarks. We fell asleep with our hands on Sam's most worthy cock, our costumes crumpled on the floor at the foot of the bed. When I awoke, it was early morning. Peg was gone and Sam was sound asleep. As I got up, I saw a note on the night table signed by Peg. It read, "This certifies that Sam has completed the requirements for 'making it with two women.' His performance was most satisfactory to both. Both tongue and cock deserve the highest award." At first I was a bit miffed. Peg had the last word again, and was speaking for me like she had done when she had promised Sam a threesome. What the heck, she was right both times.

I signed the note with my best flourish, and left.



In the Spirits' Tears



The sun burned in blood as the dust from the storm settled across the land. The elder council knew the time had come, with most of the warriors dead it was a time for peace a time for treaty. A great father had come with papers to sign providing land for the people. Traders would come to trade skins, food and blankets, it would bring prosperity.

What weapons that were left were stacked for the soldiers to take. Hunting would no longer be needed, the great fathers would have agents bring them the food they needed. The people would live on their reserves with no interference from the white men who were moving westward.

****

It was a strange smell in the air that floated in the cold spring winds of Laguna Pueblo that fall in 1973. It smelled of soil, it smelled of rock, it smelled of death, a burning death fed in half-lives. But the elders knew of the angry spirits and desecration at Jackpile Mine, where time was measured in the spirits' tears.

****

Later the elder council met again with another great father and more papers were signed, more treaties and the white men were allowed on the reserve to dig in the earth. Some of the elders worried that the digging would disturb the sacred spirits on their land, they asked them to dig elsewhere. No, the papers were for this land, besides, the white man would treat the land with reverence.

Again, the council understood it was a time for peace, with the warriors gone they had no other choice than to sign the papers. Soon the diggers came, opening great holes in the foothills. The people prayed to appease the spirits.

****

Students smelled it. It smelled of children, it smelled of secrets, it smelled of pacts, of lonely deaths. One by one by one the students died in spring of '73. "Cherylyn died, now it's my turn," the notes said, as the brightest and best followed: a suicide club, membership: seven. They didn't know why, none of the kids knew.

****

The people complained to the elders. Their eyes and noses burned from the dust and smoke from the foothills where the white man dug. They felt the land rumble it's displeasure as the spirits quaked their anger. "Make them stop the people begged, the spirits are angry, the land is fouled. We need to pray, we need to appease the spirits, and we need to cover the holes with dirt."

The elders met and talked of the troubles, but the treaties were signed, they could do nothing to change things. In the meantime dirt roads were paved in gravel, and bigger equipment traveled along the new roads, spewing dust and noise. 

Soon the burials started: first children and the old ones, soon the first of the elders died. They wanted to change but they remembered the treaties. They talked to the agents, but all he told them was to remember the treaties.

****

One man smelled it. It smelled of wine, it smelled of beer, smelled of bourbon, of a shiny new axe. They were his friends who visited him fresh from the mines and at his table, he cut them up, dumping their pieces around the reservation. "Your two best friends, why did you kill them?" They asked. He couldn't explain.

****

Children are choking and dying in the dust and smoke from the digging. Huge vehicles passed on the roads, leaving ruts and mud, but the council would do nothing, they showed the treaty.

"But the mine is destroying us," the people cried, "slowly, one by one our children sicken, some die. And now the elders also die, not from the spirit way, but the coughing, the sickness. We all feel it. We must stop the mining or we all will be destroyed."

"We have treaties," the elders responded, "We cannot break them. Look at what happened at Wounded Knee." 

"But we don't dance the ghost dance, we don't ask for all our land, we only want them to stop at the mine. We just want them to stop, because we will die if they don't stop."

****

It was a strange smell in the air that floated in the cold spring winds of Laguna Pueblo in 1973. It smelled of soil, it smelled of rock, it smelled of fire, of a burning death, they called it half-lives. But the elders knew of angry spirits and desecration at Jackpile Mine where time was measured in the spirits' tears. 



In The Stable



Janet loved horses, but with all of her years working diligently to get her MBA and climb the corporate ladder she never really had the time to pursue that particular passion. So when she found a long weekend between business meetings in Europe, she made plans to stay at one of her family's estates, a place near Brussels with a modest but lovely main house and a stable with a few prize winning horses. Perhaps she could even go riding, something she hadn't done for over twenty years now.

On her first day there, she went down to see the horses. The old and familiar smell of the stable filled her senses. All that leather, she had always loved the smell of it, surrounded her now. Along the wall hung a vast array of bridles, bits, saddles, crops — all of the finest quality, gently softened and worn through generations of use. Her mind drifted back to her riding days, the horse fitted majestically with straps and buckles, yielding to the rider's control of the bit in its mouth. The whole thing fascinated her and she gazed dreamily at the fine gear. 

Someone was coming and Janet, lost in her dream, stepped back into the shadow rather than confront whoever it was. She watched quietly as the groom, tall and muscular, led one of the horses from its stall and brushed its coat. He moved with the confidence of years of experience. Turning quickly to the wall, he pulled down a black bridle and fitted the horse. Janet appreciated how the crisp white stitching on the black leather complemented the black horse's own small scattered flecks of white. 

She was staring at the bit in the horse's mouth when she heard a voice right behind her. "Can I help you, miss?" asked the groom. She spun around, startled. He dropped the pleasantries and demanded "Who are you and just what are you doing in my stable?" 


"I'm Janet Bayard. Paul Bayard is my uncle. You DO know who he is, don't you?" she snapped.

The man stepped back and looked her up and down, his eyes studying the curves of her body, lingering on her casually open blouse, and finally fixing on her brown eyes. 

"Oh yes, Paul and I know each other well. So you're Janet. Paul said you might be visiting. My name's Kent." He stood close to her and she could smell the leather on him. "I was watching you admire the horse — and the equipment. Any questions I can answer for you?"

I can think of a few things you can do for me, mused Janet to herself, confident that she could have him like she'd had so many others. "Sure, do you ride much?" she asked.

"Pretty much any time I want. How much do you know about horses?"

"I know everything I need to know, and have the trophies to prove it."

Kent had little patience for this kind of arrogance. That kind of talk might work in the social circles, but they were far from city estates. They were far from everything, he thought, and smiled. He would enjoy this very much. 

"Really? Lots of people know how to ride, but how much do you know about how the horse sees it?" he asked.

"Right. And who are you supposed to be, the horse whisperer?"

"You'd be surprised how much you can learn from a horse, Ms Bayard. For example, look at the bit in the horse's mouth. I know you were studying it before. It's not really that comfortable for the horse, yet the sense that they are about to be ridden calms them. Let me show you something," and led her to a small room in the back of the stable. 

It was dark in the windowless room and Kent said "Just a sec and I'll get some light." Janet heard the door close behind them and it was really dark. The earthy smell of leather was stronger here than in the main stable, and it was getting Janet really turned on. A light came on.

She was momentarily shocked. All around her was the most breathtaking collection of riding equipment that made the stuff she saw when she first arrived pale in comparison. The dye work and intricate hand tooling on some of the pieces were like she'd never seen before. And there were some unusual items too, four steel rings in the floor, a bridle too small for a horse, and something that looked like a large sawhorse covered completely in padded, dark brown hide. 

"Hold out your arms," said Kent coolly. 

"What? No! Who do you think you are?"

"Ms Bayard, your reputation precedes you. If you think you're going to pop in for a quick romp with the hired help, you're in for a big disappointment. Today, you're going to see things from the horse's perspective. Now, hold out your arms." 

Kent didn't wait for Janet to comply and quickly grabbed her right wrist and pulled her to the floor. With the speed of years of handiwork, he took a short leather cord and bound her wrist securely to one of the steel rings in the floor. Janet screamed and clawed at him with her free hand, but this only drove him harder. He forced her down flat on the floor with one strong shove and made quick work of the other wrist. 

"You little shit, I'll have your job and your ass for this!" screamed Janet.

"Paul, your loving uncle, assures that my job will not be in jeopardy. He's heard enough and had enough of your 'adventures' and has enough power to keep me out of any danger, as you well know since he's covered your ass enough times. And as for your ass, Ms Bayard, I think I'll be the one having that."

"I swear you're going to pay for this! I'm telling you to let me loose right now!"

Kent ignored her. The struggle — and the sight of her bound body — only fed his hunger for more. Sure, yell if you like, he thought. You're mine now. He reached for an eight-inch hunting knife with a freshly sharpened edge.

Janet froze. "What the hell are you doing with that? You better not touch me!" 

Kent said nothing. Janet was on her hands and knees now, her wrists bound to the rings in the floor. Kent crouched next to her and began to cut away her blouse. 

Janet gasped and began to struggle and thrash about, but she was very aware of the cold, sharp steel blade and had to move carefully. 

Kent grabbed her roughly by the hair and warned, "Settle down. We don't want any accidents."

"Screw you," Janet spat back. Kent hauled back and slapped her hard on the ass, then reached into her skirt to feel her lips.

"Hmmm. Ms Bayard, it seems that you're enjoying this as much as I guessed you would."

He was right, Janet realized. Her pussy was soaked and her body flush with excitement. The leather flooded back into her nostrils. She felt the blade slip under her waistband and in one motion cut away her skirt and panties. In another second, her bra was gone. Naked, except for her low cut boots, she pulled helplessly at the wrist straps. 

"You were interested in this earlier, I seem to remember," said Kent as he took the bridle down off its hook. "I think this particular one should fit you fine."

"No, no, not that," said Janet, pulling back in shock. She screamed loudly as Kent held her hair tightly and forced the bit into her mouth, securing the leather strap around her head. Her muffled cries faded as he tightened the harness around her head.

"Now, on your hands and knees. Do it, now." But Janet only glared back at him silently, daring him to make her do anything. Her defiance only hardened his resolve, and she could see that it hardened his cock, too. Kent walked to the collection on the tack room wall and took down a long leather crop, worn and faded from use. He stroked the air swiftly with it, feeling the shaft flex and making sure that Janet heard it whistle threatening. 

He's joking, Janet thought to herself. Kent traced the tool along her back and she squirmed. Still crouched on the floor, she tried to ignore him and pulled at the straps looking to break free.

The first stroke took her by surprise and she looked at him in shock. Three more followed in sharp succession across her bare ass, leaving her breathless. He rubbed the fresh redness roughly to make sure she got the point.

"Hands and knees, or the next set is much harder."

She thought hard about this, looking into his eyes. Kent returned her stare with conviction, lifting the crop to apply four more strokes. They seared and Janet tried desperately to avoid them. He reached around her waist with one strong arm held her fast, lifting her nearly off the ground and forcing her onto all fours. She was screaming wildly under the bit in her mouth as he counted another eight strokes that sent electricity through Janet's body. 

Tears streamed down her face and her mind raced with pain, anger, and lust. Lust? How could that be, but it was true. She was naked on the floor except for her boots and a bridle, whipped by a man who could easily holder her tightly with one hand, but she'd be damned if she would give him the satisfaction of liking it. His commanding voice snapped her back into the moment.

"That's more like it. Spread your legs wider," and he tapped the insides of her thighs hard enough to make it clear what would happen if she didn't do it. Her ass still burning, she opened her legs almost reflexively. He ran his hand lazily along her ass crack, between her legs, and along her wet pussy. He strong fingers rubbed her swollen lips without mercy, and she cried out in passion through the leather. His finger returned lingering around her ass and teasing it with her own warm juices. She moaned loudly and he entered her slowly.

"No, no stop! You'd better stop this right now or... ," Janet managed to spit out though the restraints. 

"Or what?" he said softly and stepped back. "Stay there." 

This time, Kent reached for a long leather strap with clips at each end. He held Janet by her bridle and held her face close to his. She struggled uselessly in his grasp and he brought his lips close to her face, kissing her lips around the bit that cut into her mouth. Then he clipped the long strap to the small rings on each end of the bit and ran the lead along Janet's back.

"Head up, back straight," he barked and gave a tug on the rein snapping her head back. 

She struggled against this new sensation, but any attempt to turn her head to challenge him was useless. She heard him shed his work shirt and jeans, and imagined his firm body, slick with sweat, behind hers holding the reins that held her in position. Determined to give him nothing, she tried to move away from him but too late. He was already kneeling between her legs. A hard slap across her ass rekindled her already warmed flesh.

"We're going to keep at this until you get it right," he said calmly. And he started administering a severe spanking, pulling hard on the rein and pinning his thighs against hers. In between strokes she could feel his cock brush against her ass. The pain —mixed with his fingers stroking the wet lips of her pussy — was driving her crazy. Each muffled scream sent a wave of electric satisfaction along his Kent's taut hard shaft.

At once it stopped and the room was quiet but for Janet's soft whimpering. 

"Now we're going to go for a little ride," said Kent.

He pushed his cock against the tight hole of her ass. She bucked writhed to avoid it but he only pulled tighter on the rein, driving the bit harshly into her mouth. Pulling back to avoid the bit only drove her ass against his hard cock. He pushed into her slowly and she cried out in alarm. She had never been fucked in the ass before and the new sensation was sending waves of panic across her body. Out and then a little deeper, Kent filled her tight ass till he was fully inside her — pulling hard on the lead as he thrust deeply. 

"Canter," he whispered and started to fuck her ass with short quick pumps of his hips. His free hand gripped her thigh, pull her body against his. Every few strokes of his cock he would stop, buried deep inside her, and massage her clit with his fingers. She squirmed helplessly as waves of pleasure racked her body. Then his cock started its long hard thrusts again and he pulled hard on the reins. 

Janet's loud moans and cries filled the room and she began to rock with his pounding rhythm. In her blind abandon she had forgotten where she was, her mind focusing on the rising passion inside her. Suddenly, Kent stopped and withdrew and Janet growled spitefully into her gag, shooting him a look of contempt. She was panting, her body buzzing with desire, and she hated him for it.

"Even after that, you still act like queen bitch, eh?" He took a simple leather cord down from the wall and, holding her wrist very tightly, released the knot that held it to the steel ring in the floor. 

Thinking she might break free, she jerked and pulled and tried to twist away, but he turned her arm behind her and lifted. She turned away and fell back toward the other ring. In a moment, Kent had crossed her wrists behind her back and bound them with the leather cord. He slipped off the knot on her other wrist and left her bound and lying on the floor.

"Get up" he commanded. "I'm not done with you yet." 

She scrambled across the floor but there was nowhere to run. In two quick strides he was on her, hauling her up by her arm and forcing her toward the sawhorse. There were straps and fasteners all along each of the four legs and the length waist-high central beam was covered with thick padding and supple leather. Steel bolts secured it to the floor.

Kent focused on one ankle, applying the strap at the base of one of the legs quickly and securely while Janet kicked and bucked. He managed grab her other ankle, despite her vigorous struggle, forced her to straddle the beam and tied her to the other leg. The ankle bindings pulled her down tightly against the leather padding, her sex pressed against the leather.

Next he took a long, wide belt down from the wall and said, "Bend over against the beam, Ms Bayard." She felt his hand at her back, giving her little choice. He pushed her down against the long beam and secured her to it with the belt. Her hands still bound behind her, she cursed him through the bit.

"What's that? I didn't quite hear you," he mocked. He loosened the harness and slipped the bit and bridle from her head. Her face lay across the beam's soft leather.

Janet let out a blast of invective, but stopped and watched wild-eyed as Kent took the next instrument down from the wall. The simply-made wooden paddle was two feet long and made of cherry. He touched it against her ass and drew its length across her already tender skin. The cool wood finish against her hot skin felt good. The Kent drew the paddle back and struck her low on her ass. 

With no bit in her mouth, Janet's scream tore through the room. She felt the heat of the single stroke radiate down her thigh. She also felt her hard clit slam against the leather bench and it sent shocks deep into her pussy. 

Then he was in front of her, snatching her by a handful of hair and lifting her face against his stone-hard cock. 

"Lick this cock," he ordered.

"Go to hell," she sneered.

"Let me give you a little taste of hell."

Kent raised the paddle and gave Janet slow, hard, repeated strokes — eight in all. Each blow drove her sex against the beam, sending waves of pleasure through her whole body. Tears streamed down her face, and she sobbed but at the same time felt the rolling orgasm wash over her, building with each punishing strike of the paddle. 

He again held his cock to her lips and jerked her by the hair. "Open," he barked drew the paddle back again.

"No!" Janet cried but parted her lips. 

"Now lick it." 

Janet put out her tongue and ran the tip of it around his cock. 

"Harder," he moaned. Janet flicked and darted at the taught skin of his shaft and watched as the head swelled even more. 

He pulled again on her thick hair and pushed his cock between her lips. She sucked and licked hungrily and the sensation made him pull even more tightly on her mane. Kent held her head and fucked her mouth and lips in a long and slow rhythm. The two of them moaned. Then Janet saw him pick up the paddle again.

Her body raced but the cock in her mouth made it impossible to cry out. The first stroke slammed her soaked pussy onto the beam and she sucked harder on his stiff cock. Each strike with the paddle was a little harder, and Janet's head began to swim. Kent continued to force his cock into her mouth and paddle her ass harder. Her body was writhing wildly against the padded leather and she brought herself off again and again. Finally, Kent exploded and shot hot cum into Janet's mouth, his hips thrusting forward at a gallop. He continued to run his shaft along her wet lips as the echoes faded. 

Janet watched as Kent dressed himself. She was too drained to yell any more, and what good would it do any way? She would make him pay dearly later. Right now, all she wanted to do was keep grinding her hips into the soft, thick padding.



In the Stacks



The wheel of the book cart squeaked as it rolled across the beige floor tiles. I was alone on the 6th floor and the silence was still eerie even after working here two years. I turned the timer for the light, giving myself about 20 minutes, and parked the cart at the center of the aisle. 

I began shelving books distractedly. The library keeps the temperature low throughout the building to help preserve the books, and I had forgotten to bring a sweater. The chill trickled throughout my body, coming up the backs of my bare legs to my thighs, covered loosely by the silky fabric of my skirt and moving up through my chest, causing my nipples to harden beneath the thin cotton of my blouse. It was moments like this - alone and bored - when my mind couldn't help but wander. While one hand reached up to place a book on the high shelf, I let my fingers dip discreetly below the scoop of my neckline. My pink fleshy bud-like nipples grew harder, becoming clearly visible through my shirt. I peeked through the shelves around me to make sure there was no one else on the floor.

I tried to concentrate on shelving the books again, but it was difficult to stay focused. Lust began to ache between my legs and I began to wonder how much I might be able to get away with alone in the stacks. I allowed my right hand to graze my naked thigh, testing the hem of my skirt. Inching upward while stealing glances every few seconds to make sure my privacy wasn't at risk. 

My hand had traveled as far as where my inner thigh met the gentle lace trim of my panties when I heard footsteps enter the room. I quickly pulled my hand out from beneath my skirt and frantically smoothed the fabric down. My nipples were still firm, but there was nothing I could do about that.

I turned and saw a dark silhouette of a man through the shelves walk down an aisle two away from the one I was in. I turned back to my work and tried to act as though nothing had happened. I continued shelving books, but I had a strange feeling of being watched. I could feel this person's eyes watching me and I listened closely. He cleared his throat, but I could not hear him pulling any books from the shelves. I wondered if he had seen me - if he had known what I had been doing - but it was impossible. I had been shielded by the bookshelves and he had not come any closer than 10 feet from me.

I decided to try to ignore him and finish my work. The cold air was hitting me straight on, freezing the tips of my fingers, and I was anxious to get back to my desk. I pulled a ladder closer to reach the top shelf and carefully climbed up, my kitten-heeled shoes gently clacking on the steps. As I reached the second step, the timer for the light clicked off, startling me. I began to step backward down the ladder when I felt a warm hand wrap around my right calf just below the knee and the hem of my skirt. I snapped my head around only to be confronted by a dark faceless man. With the light off, it was nearly pitch black with just a little light seeping through from either end of the aisle. 

"Excuse me... " I began. I was shocked, confused. I didn't know what I should do or how I should react.

"Shh..." he whispered deeply as he slid his right hand up my thigh, gently massaging my leg just below the curve of my ass. His thumb began to venture to the already damp cotton of my panties while his other hand began moving up my left leg.

I knew that I should tell him to stop, to scream for help, to run away, something. But I didn't want to. His hands felt amazing against my skin. A shiver moved through me but it wasn't from the cold air. I slowly stepped all the way down to the floor, off the ladder completely except for my hands which needed to give me some support or my legs would have just given out beneath me. His hands moved over the smooth mounds of my ass to my hips and then he pulled his left from beneath my skirt and slipped it beneath my blouse to my eagerly waiting breasts while his right hand moved below the waist of my increasingly dampening panties.

I couldn't believe this was happening. I was nervous before when I was touching myself, but now nothing else seemed to matter.

His gentle fingers nimbly massaged my nipples as he squeezed my breast in his strong hand. His other fingers were working just as well down below as he alternated between rubbing the pink pearl beneath my panties and sliding along my slick wet lips, slipping easily into and out of my wet hole. Both his hands moved to my hips, slowly sliding my panties down, over my ass down to my ankles and then, one at a time, off my feet. At this point my pussy was screaming for his cock. I heard his pants unzip and suddenly felt the tip of his cock slide between my legs. He moved back and forth, slowly, teasing me. I wanted him inside me so badly. I began moaning and pressed my ass into him.

And then, as if he knew that I had had enough of his teasing, he pressed his hard shaft deep into me with one quick thrust. I let out a quick, low gasp. The wet walls of my pussy wrapped tightly around his cock as he began to move in and out of me. My grip on the handles of the step ladder tightened as his thrusting became deeper and harder. We were like a machine, his piston moving deep inside me.

I couldn't contain myself any longer and my moans overcame me. I was sure the entire library could hear us fucking but I didn't care. I could feel my orgasm rising within me and I could tell he was close too. And then my entire body tensed and I could feel the warmth flowing though my body. My pussy tightened around his throbbing cock just as he came deep inside me. 

We paused then, standing there with my hands still gripping the ladder and his arms wrapped around me. He slid out of me then and leaned in close, gently kissing the nape of my neck. He stepped back and I turned around to face him, finally, and look into the eyes of the man who had just filled me so completely. We were still in the dark and I could only make out the faintest line of a nose, the curve of a lip, and a slight reflection in his eyes. He kissed me on the lips and then whispered "Goodbye" softly into my ear. He turned and nonchalantly walked away.

I was in a daze, just standing there trying to comprehend what had just happened. By the time my senses returned to me, I realized my panties were somewhere on the floor. I carefully pulled them on, smoothed down my skirt, fixed my hair, and tried to remember what it was that I had been doing there in the first place. I went to the end of the aisle to turn the light back on and I peeked to see if the man was still there. There was no sign of him, but I could hear his footsteps moving down the stairs. I debated whether or not I should go running down the stairs to get a look at his face, but I decided against it. I turned around and went back to shelving books as though nothing had happened.



In The Stacks



I was awakened very early and when I went back to sleep I started dreaming of standing in the stacks of a very large bookstore with you. It's the one near the mall and the movie theaters where the coffee shop is busy but the store itself is quiet between movies. We were alone in the aisle, but there were people nearby. You were standing very close to me, to my right, and you began whispering in my ear that before long you were going to be my lover. Determined not to lose my composure I didn't reply and started to finger the spines of the books in front of me looking for any escape I could manage. I could feel my temperature rising, my sex swelling and tingling at the thought of you.

"I know you want me, you can't deny it." you say as you move closer to me your body shielding me from the larger aisle just a few feet behind you.

"Maybe you shouldn't be so sure of yourself..." I say, thinking to myself it isn't too late to abandon the flirtation and go home. Wine, candles, oils, a turned down bed await me there if I choose to use them with you or alone. Either way I'll find pleasure between the covers. I've waited this long.

You are what you say that you are. Tall, handsome, distinguished, well dressed. Your voice is every bit as intoxicating as I hoped it would be, and your mouth, so close to my ear, my neck, I know would tantalize me if it were but a few centimeters closer than it is now.

"It's one of the things you love about my seduction of you. Why it's worth a year's worth of correspondence and teasing. That I'm dogged about having what I want. You like that about me... it reminds you of yourself." I think you're impossible but decide it isn't worth aggravating you when I haven't really decided to leave.

You take your right hand and place your fingers around the edge of my hardening nipple. Inside I'm feeling a little desperate at how my passion is urging me to do the things I know you will love. To throw my caution to the wind. To get drunk with the kind of sex only you seem to be able to intuit that I really, truly want, hell need. I'm panicked that you are touching me so intimately in a public place, but my body is riveted towards the sensation of your next move.

Slowly, deliberately you squeeze into a pinch and the tiniest confession of desire escapes fro me in a small gasp. You release slightly, move in a little further and now start to pull as you apply pressure to my nipple. Immediately it hardens and my left breast is in a jealous fury against my right. As you pull to the end of my nipple, you whisper insistently "Mine." into my ear. 

I've never gotten so completely excited so quickly in all of my life. I'm not sure if my terror is that we will be discovered or that you won't do this again. I feel the gentle release after the pressure has increased and anticipate, beg inside for you to do it one more time.

"It is mine." you say devilishly as you stroke out my nipple a little bit harder but not enough to hurt me.

I stand there feeling the weight of my moisture building inside of me, wishing I could feed you. I have no panties to shield me and I don't want to squirm because I don't want to draw attention to us and the last thign I want you to do is stop.

"Mine..." you say again and the glint in your eye, the determine look n your face and the faintest smile at the torture you know you are putting me through as you squeeze my nipple again and again...saying the same thing over and over.

My breath is getting out of sync. I'm holding my breath....

"Squeeze your pussy now. Squeeeeeeeeeeeze it hard from deep inside out."....... and as I do you slide your fingers pulling my nipple harder and say mine and as you do I can't help but to release my excitement and my breath with a small orgasm....

"Oh my God....." and my face colors red

"I'll be your God, and you can worship my cock for me..." you whisper and laugh at the same time.... "You're ready for me now aren't you?" 



In the Stacks



Please do not repost this story without author's permission. Copyright 2007. Comments on this and all other stories welcomed through the link below.

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When Cynthia touched his arm, the semi he had been sporting for 45 minutes instantly sprang into a full mega-boner. He squirmed a little in his seat, his cock uncomfortably trapped by his jeans. 

Cynthia smiled at him. "I think I might finally be getting it!" she said, relief evident in her eyes. She pushed a strand of her hair, perfectly straight and perfectly blonde (almost white, Steve thought) behind her ear and pursed her lips into a rueful half-smile. "Maybe I won't fail calculus after all." 

Steve laughed a little too hard, still nervous to be near such a pretty girl. "When we're through with you, you'll be teaching the course," he smiled back at her, hardly believing anything so confident could leave his mouth. 

Her face broke into a real smile. "You know, you're kinda funny," she said, reaching up to squeeze his shoulder lightly, her fingers rubbing small circles on his upper back. His mega-boner became a whopping huge fantastic mega super boner. "I really appreciate you taking the time to tutor me." 

"Of course," he responded, though it was anything but. He had not known how to respond when Cynthia had approached him after class earlier that day, and in fact, he had not even realized at first that Cynthia was talking to him. Girls like Cynthia never talked to him. She was gorgeous, with imperial cheekbones and a wide smile with perfectly ordered rows of teeth, a perky set of "b" tits that were always on display above a tiny waist and long cheerleading legs made for short skirts. 

Above all else, though, was her hair. It was the detail that Steve kept fixating on. To say it was blonde oversimplified; it simply shone, as if it were the color of sunlight. It was perfectly straight, and so long that it stretched nearly to her waist. Even when it was cruelly confined to a pony tail, her hair was still the envy of all the other girls. 

And it wasn't just her physical beauty. Cynthia wore the right clothes, spoke to the right people, went to the right parties. She was well-spoken and confident. The rumor on campus was that she was a little too "confident," really; that she had been known to hook up with four guys in a three day weekend, and had once even seduced a teacher, Mr. Bradley. Steve didn't know if these rumors were true, or just the sort of rumors that frequently attach to pretty girls, especially pretty girls who seem to have so much going for them. The jealousy of the male mind knew no bounds as far as Steve was concerned. 

And so, as they were leaving class, Cynthia had had to say Steve's name a few times before he even turned and looked at her, and when he finally did, he was too surprised to even be wary of the barb he should have expected when a pretty girl talks to a nerd (although if he were honest with himself about his inner thoughts, he really thought she was too pretty and too good to bait him in the silly ways the other popular kids did). When she asked him if he would be willing to tutor her, he couldn't do anything but mutter a weak assent. Seemingly without his will the date and place were set: later that evening in the library. 

In truth, tutoring her turned out to be pretty easy. John knew calculus in and out, and she was eager to learn. Apparently someone had told her that failure in calculus would imperil her college attendance. While she was no nerd, she had no intentions of being stuck marrying a fading football hero, working in the Dairy Queen, and wasting away in this little shithole, either, thank-you-very-much, so she was very attentive. 

Her hand was still on his shoulder. "I really mean it. I've been having a lot of trouble understanding this stuff, and you've made it seem so simple." 

He was starting to blush a little bit. Soon would come the stammering. Her smile closed, but her face remained friendly. She leaned in a little, as if she had reached a decision about something important. "Listen," she whispered conspiratorially, "I think we've done enough studying for tonight, and the test's not for another week." Did this mean she wanted him to tutor her _another_ night? Steve's heart fluttered. "And there's something else I've been thinking about." On that, her eyes moved quickly side to side, as if scanning the room to see if they were being watched. 

"Oh?" Steve felt like he squeaked. 

"I think I might have to whisper this in your ear, ok?" Her voice was a combination of amusement and seriousness. Steve nodded, dubious. She leaned in even farther, close enough that he could smell her aroma, a mix of soap (something flowery) and something un- placeable (slightly lower and tangier). "Have you ever fooled around in a library?" she whispered. 

Steve took an involuntary gasp of air, almost snorting through his noise. "No," he squeezed out. Truth be told, he had never fooled around in general, in any locale. But he didn't think this particular detail needed to be shared. 

"Neither have I," she continued. She was so close, Steve could hear her tongue moving in her mouth, sliding across her teeth, dipping and rising as it formed each word. It sounded very intimate. "But this entire night, I've been noticing you, the way you look at me, the way you avoid touching me, the way you try and secretly adjust that package in the front of your trousers, and it's all got me really turned on." She stressed the last words. "I don't think I could wait to get you home or to the creek. I want you now." On this, her other hand came up, and she delicately began to trace her nails along his inner thigh. 

Steve almost shot out of his chair from the shock of her hand on his thigh. He couldn't think. He couldn't speak. He wasn't sure he was even breathing. "I've always wanted someone to offer to take me in the stacks." She was downright cooing. "Will you offer?" 

Steve's mind was whirling. Between the overriding sensation of her hand on his thigh, her scent in his nostrils, and her breath in his ear, he almost couldn't follow what she was saying. He knew it was English, but his mind refused to make any sense of the words she was putting together. Was she making fun of him? If he told her how he yearned for her, how he wanted to kiss every part of her skin from head to toe, would she just turn on him and laugh and ask how he could have ever thought that a girl like her would ever hit on a guy like him? 

Her hand slipped into his. It was looking more and more like this was really happening. "Come on," she half- whispered, standing up and tugging on his arm. "I know a quiet place where we won't be disturbed." 

She took off for the stairs. Steve stumbled behind her, being lead along, almost dragged, like a hesitant parent with an excitable child who has just seen what she wants for Christmas. She wasn't looking at him, but was barreling forward. He was dazed. 

They got to the stairs, and she began to trot up them, not letting go of his hand. Steve followed, mesmerized by the flash of her white skin under her dark skirt as the fabric rustled and jostled, revealing the backs of her tan thighs and the slightest hint of white panties as she pumped her legs to climb each step. They were very nearly galloping now, almost jumping from step to step. 

They reached the third floor, and she darted to the left. Steve was panting, out of breath from the run and from the desire stirring within him, which was getting stronger as every moment passed and his belief that this was really happening increased. 

The light was softer up here, and the smell of books stronger. There were rows and rows of shelves -- folios, Steve idly thought -- and only a few work stations placed haphazardly around. Cynthia was right - - no one else was up here. She moved quickly to the back corner and took a hard right, moving between two shelves. Abruptly, she turned to face Steve. The inertia (and his inattention) almost made him run into her; he stopped himself barely two inches from her. She didn't retreat. 

"What do you think?" she whispered, looking up into his eyes. She was four or five inches shorter than he was. Steve liked being this close to her; he felt like he towered over her. Her hands came up to his chest, and she placed her flat palms against his pecs. 

Steve stood silent, trying to get control of his breath. He had no idea what to do or to say. 

"Your heart is racing," she said, her voice still in a whisper. "But I think I could make it speed up even faster." Her hands slid up his neck and to the side of his face, pulling him down as she turned her face up. Their lips met. Steve was nervous and inexperienced, so his lips were dry and rubbery, but Cynthia's lips were velvet, supple and dexterous. She nibbled his lower lip, then moved her tongue to trace the outline of his lips. Steve opened his mouth -- to speak or breathe or for what he didn't know -- and her tongue slipped into his mouth. 

Her tongue moved slowly but confidently, feinting and darting around his. Her tongue was so warm and soft, it was like nothing he had ever imagined. He relaxed, loosening his lips, letting his tongue move to meet hers. Cynthia moaned. 

Her hands moved back down his neck, then her nails began to drag across his chest and stomach. Her hands reached his waist. She broke the kiss. "I need you," she moaned, and dropped to her knees. In one fluid motion, she unsnapped his jeans, unzipped them, and pulled them down, taking his briefs too. Steve's eyes widened. Suddenly he was flapping in the breeze. 

What if she laughed at him? What if he didn't measure up to the other guys she'd been with? What if he came too soon? What if he got caught with his pants down in the library? What if he worried so much he couldn't stay hard? 

This last thought caught him, and he quickly glanced down. Cynthia was just staring at his cock, smiling, and idly licking her lips. Thankfully, he was still hard. He was straining, in fact. It felt like his cock wanted to rip itself off his body and go marching off on its own, he was so hard. Pre-cum flowed from the tip of his penis; it was the Mississippi, it was the Nile, it was the River of Life. 

Though hard, his cock hung down slightly. Cynthia reached for it, lifting it up to point toward her. Without a word, she leaned forward and took him into her mouth, practically wolfing him down. 

Steve stifled a cry. He had no basis of comparison, but suddenly understood what the fuss about blowjobs was. To have his cock go from enjoying some fresh air to being fully encased in Cynthia's warm, tight mouth was indescribable; fireworks were going off in his head. 

Something soft and warm began to flick at the head of his penis. He heard Cynthia humming, and felt the vibrations in his cock. She began to pull back slowly, her cheeks concave, her eyes closed as she savored the sensations, and Steve felt the delicate suction of her mouth tugging at him with each millimeter she moved. 

She came off his cock with a little "pop." His cock was now glistening, and a large vein was noticeably twitching with his pulse. She left her hand on him, but looked up at him. "Can I blow you later? Right now I really want your cock in my pussy." Steve did not know if this was rhetorical, or what. Steve did not know anything anymore. 

She sprung to a standing position, still holding on to his cock. "Oh, hell," she said, and bent at the waist. Her beautiful hair fell down around her, obscuring her face. Suddenly she was on him again, this time sucking on just his head. He put his hands on her head, amazed to see his own skin next to the iridescence of her hair. She moaned, and though he wasn't pushing on her at all -- he was just resting his hands -- she began to slide back and forth on him, as if he were face-fucking her. 

She practically screamed, pulling herself off of him and standing up again. Steve's heart spurted forward. He did not want to attract any attention, for a lot of reasons, but the only one he could think of right now was that he wanted Cynthia to make him cum. Thankfully no one seemed to have heard. 

"Put that thing in me now." When she spoke, it was not a request. She flipped up her skirt, hooked her fingers in the side of her panties, and slid them off smoothly, her skirt flipping back down before Steve could see anything. He stood, breathing heavily, his arms clenched at his sides, his cock throbbing, his t-shirt still on, and his jeans pooled at his ankles. 

Cynthia turned around, resting her elbows on a shelf, pointing her ass out. "Hurry, stick it in, I can't wait any longer." She spread her legs, her skirt riding up to reveal the lower curve of her ass. Steve swallowed. Suddenly his mouth was dry again. 

"Please, please, please," she was mumbling nearly incoherently. She looked over her shoulder, her long hair falling some on her back, and some to the side of her face, giving her a halo. She reached back, grabbed his cock, and pulled him toward her. Where his cock went, he went. He shuffled forward. 

She arched her ass even more. The skirt fell back against her lower back, revealing her perfect ass. It was round, but not at all flabby. And just beneath it, Steve could see the lips of her vulva. They were puffed out, and he could see the moisture coating even her legs. She was very clearly shaved. Her pussy was perfect. 

"That's where I'm going to lose my virginity," Steve thought, looking at her pussy. He gave a mental shrug, his body (or one part of it, at least) asserting that this was not the time for moral consideration. 

Cynthia moved her other arm off the shelf and in front of her to spread her lips while her other hand guided his cock. She placed him right at the entrance to her vagina, his head barely nestled in her folds. "Push," she said. Steve, beyond thinking, did just that, with no nuance or teasing, slamming it all into her. 

Her arms came forward again, grasping for support against the shelf. Her face fell forward. "Fuck!" She nearly screamed. Steve didn't know if people could hear her and he no longer cared. Her pussy was amazing, somehow even more amazing than her mouth. He pulled back and pushed forward. "Fuck me!" she screamed again. He hammered into her, no concern for technique, amazed at the way her pussy seemed to glom on to him, to refuse to let him leave, but how willing it was to let him enter. "God yes!" she screamed, grunting each time he slammed into her. His ears filled with the beautiful slimy sound of hard cock plunging into gooey wet pussy, amazed to hear it for the first time. 

Steve moved his hands to her waist for balance and began to pull her into him as he thrust into her. He was baring his teeth, and while he was unaware of it, a low animal noise was escaping from him. For her part, Cynthia had been reduced to whimpering, punctuated only by grunts as he slammed into her. 

Steve felt himself getting close. He reached up and grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling it. Cynthia arched her back, straightening up, but pushing more of her ass into Steve's crotch, grinding into him. She turned to face him, their heads now close enough that they could kiss. "Come inside me," she whispered. On her cue, Steve did just that. Steve began to spew, spurt after spurt, long artillery fire of sperm up her tight canyon. She was milking him, begging for it. Three times. Four times. He sighed and fell backward, his cock slipping out. A fifth tiny spurt dripped out, hitting the back of her legs and beginning to coarse down it. He slumped down, sitting, staring up at the gaping mouth of her pussy, winking, frothy with his cum. 

Cynthia calmly picked up her panties, folded them, and began to wipe at her pussy, dabbing and collecting both her juices and his cum. Steve stared, lifeless. When she was done, she adjusted her skirt so that it covered her again, turned back around, leaned over, and put the panties into his hand. "You can keep these as a souvenir," she said. 

END

Please let me know what you think of my stories/



In the Stacks



It's dusk as I pull into the side lot of the university library—the one you instructed me to use should I ever visit you at work. I'm pleased with myself for following your texted directive to the letter: knee-high black Italian leather boots, my red tartan skirt that hits me mid-thigh and a v-neck cashmere sweater straining to contain the tits you so love to torture and then worship with your mouth. As I step out into the crisp, October air, I'm reminded of your final command, the cold hitting my naked pussy and sending a shock through me. 

Closing the heavy, ornate door behind me, I am immediately struck by the scent of old pages and the humming of new technology. It's dinnertime, and the sparsely populated building is about to get even less inhabited, something that you surely calculated when you sent me the meeting details. The exhibitionist in me can't help but be a bit disappointed. I smile as I think of a hapless TA encountering me spread eagle, my boots shaking in the air while you thrust into me, oblivious. We both know that I'd let him watch us for as long as he wanted, that I'd probably exaggerate my moans and throw in some sexy swearing for shock value. And we both know that after the dust settled, I'd revel in the spanking that performance would earn me.

I make my way towards the philosophy section. For once, you have left me a choice and I'm not sure why I've made this one, apart from a few dirty puns involving Sartre and Kant. Per your request, I'm to pick a spot anywhere in the library and stay there, to be sniffed out, tracked and claimed as prey between the stacks. I listen to the quick clacking of my heels against the parquet floor and hope that you're not near enough to hear it; I would hate to make this too easy for you.

I pause and busy myself with reading the multicolor spines of the Pluralist school, unconsciously holding my breath, an ache beginning to spread between my legs. I pluck Empedocles from the shelf and will myself to calm down and focus, but all I can manage is picturing people fucking desperately atop earth, in water, through air and on fire. An echoing thud snaps me from my x-rated reverie, my heart catching in my chest as I realize I am no longer alone. The offending book, thick enough to be a dictionary or some other reference text, is at my feet. The good girl inside of me doesn't hesitate squatting down to retrieve it; the bad girl relishes the sensation of air rushing underneath her skirt and against her cunt, dampening already. I keep my eyes on the floor, on the book, on the expensive loafers making no move to assist me. 

I reach for it, and you bend slightly, catching my wrist in a tight grip. I would know your hand anywhere—the long, strong fingers, the strategic callouses, the effortless way it squeezes me into submission. 

A single word, in your rich baritone, is so menacing that it makes my shoulders tremble and my pussy twitch. I flush, realizing that the mere sound of your voice has prompted a solitary tear of excitement to run down the inside of my thigh. 

"No."

I freeze, the wetness between my legs increasing by the second. You release my wrist and cup my chin roughly in your hand, forcing me to look at you. As our eyes lock, I unconsciously begin to rub myself, like a reflex. My smooth lips, now drenched, feel warm and ready to receive you. 

You grin, but you handle my face harshly, lightly smacking my cheek. "You dirty bitch," you whisper. "Playing with yourself out in the open," you admonish. "And in front of the Greek philosophers, no less."

I bite my lip, the slight sting on my cheek causing me to rub harder, more furiously, my clit completely engorged now. In a few seconds, I could come, shaking and moaning on the floor while you look down at me in disapproval. It would earn me more smacks, in more intimate places, but before I can contemplate it too long, you resume full height and place a hand on either shoulder, driving me down onto my knees. 

"Little slut wants to play alone? Aren't you forgetting something?" You answer your own question with the unzipping of your khakis. My fingers gravitate from my clit to my soaking pussy. Three fingers slide easily in and out, becoming drenched in my juices and I stifle a moan. Looking around briefly, you slide your pants down, and present me with your large, pulsating cock. My first instinct, on my knees with my favorite toy at eye-level, is to take it between my lips and lick it from balls to tip. But you have other plans.

"Your hand," you command gruffly, and I remember how you like to feel the power you have over me, before you've even touched me. You want to feel what I have done to myself in anticipation of being filled up, wrecked and owned by you. I comply, taking my sopping fingers and sliding them along your long shaft, using my nails to lightly scratch the underside of your balls—something that never fails to make you growl with pleasure. Your cock glistens underneath the library lights, covered in me, smelling of me. My nipples stiffen and my knees quiver, punctuating how badly I want you inside me.

Your hand on the back of my head signals that I'll soon get my wish. Licking my large, pillowy lips, I take you into my mouth and instantly taste my salty-sweetness on your skin. The sensation is so intensely exciting that I have to fight the urge to finger myself again. Instead, I focus on running my tongue along every inch of you, tracing tiny circles with my fingertips against your balls as I do so, eliciting a series of increasingly louder groans. Watching your eyes dart about in alarm only encourages me further, and I take you as deeply as I can—choking, sputtering and devouring your cock until I'm certain I can hear footfalls nearing. In an instant, your hand is grabbing a handful of my wavy, ruby-colored hair and forcing me to my feet. 

"Fuck," you mutter, pulling up your pants as I wipe a mixture of the two of us from my mouth. I barely have time to straighten my skirt before you've pinned my hands behind my back and pushed me into the aisle. "March," you bark into my ear, your intimidating frame looming over me as you guide me through the stacks. 

I am acutely aware of the musky scent radiating from us, of the crimson flush across my ivory skin, both advertising my desire to anybody bothering to look up from their work. I make accidental eye contact with an attractive dirty blonde student doing some work-study shelving and my face feels hotter still—does she know, *could* she know? The thought of this pretty angel innocently popping into your office with a classification question while I'm being drilled atop your desk delivers the familiar twinge between my legs again. 

The fantasy leaves me as soon as I hear the lock to your office door turn, however. Our respective places of employment are off-limits where my exhibitionist tendencies are concerned, of course. I know you'll make it up to me tomorrow night, when we fuck like drunken teenagers in the ladies' room at our favorite wine bar. 

But before I can think too much about that, you are leveling me with that look, your arms crossed, your eyes piercing a hole through me. "I want you naked. Now." 

I remove my sweater, reach behind to unclasp my purple satin bra, unleashing my pale, soft breasts with their upturned, dark pink nipples. I never tire of the way your eyes widen when I reveal myself to you like this. An appreciative moan escapes your lips as you reach out to cup me, my nipple hardening instantly at your touch. Instinctively, I want to feel your hardened parts, and my hand gropes at you, still fully clothed.

"Willful today, aren't we?" you mumble, snatching my hand and twisting it behind me. In seconds, my hands are flat on the top of your desk, my body bent over it with my ass in the air, contorted just so by you. You pull down the side zipper of my skirt so hard that I'm briefly afraid you've broken it, but a sharp, loud smack on my right ass cheek instructs me not to be concerned with such mundane matters. I imagine the bright-red handprint I'll find in the mirror later, and I shudder with pleasurable pain. 

You force my legs apart with your own, and I hear your belt buckle clink as it hits the ground. No preparation is necessary; your cock is still slick and hard as stone and my cunt is screaming for you to assault it, to pound it into place where I will be sated, if only for a little while. You smack my other cheek with your left hand, and with your right, you clutch the back of my neck, squeezing hard as you enter me. I cry out at the initial impact, louder than intentioned, and then your fist is entangled in my hair, snapping my neck back. 

"You want somebody to hear us, don't you?" You don't wait for an answer. "You little slut...are you trying to get me fired?" You are so strong and your cock is thrusting so forcefully that my petite body is nearly raised off the floor as you fuck me, turning me inside out, making my teeth vibrate, my eyes water. Occasionally you reach for my tits, pinching the nipples between your large thumb and forefinger, likely leaving bruises that I will photograph and send to you later, when we both should be working. 

You fall perfectly into my rhythm, in and out of my dripping pussy, playing it like an instrument you might break during the final notes. Your fingertips digging into the scruff of my neck communicate that you know I am close, and that's enough to send me into a delirious state—bucking, shaking and contracting around you as wave after wave crashes over me. Half of a shriek rings out before your hand is clamped down firmly on my mouth, muffling the following screams. "That's a good girl," you purr, your voice much more tender than before. "My slut comes when she's supposed to, and not a minute sooner," you nearly coo as the last throes of my orgasm subside, leaving me crumpled against you, leaning on you for support. And then--

"Turn around," your tone goes from sweet to authoritarian in an instant. I acquiesce, facing you, completely naked except for my knee-high boots. You grab my pale, narrow shoulders and position me so that I'm half-sitting, half-laying on your desk. You bite down on my nipples; you nip at my neck, rubbing your swollen, massive cock as you go. "You better be ready," you say.

Then you are stroking yourself over me, and I arch my back and thrust my breasts out to receive the geyser of cum that erupts all over them, hot and wet and marking me yours. You rub the head of your cock against my nipples, the last masterful strokes, painting and signing me. I am a ruined, beautiful and thoroughly fucked piece of art, and you stand over me a moment to survey me. 

I smile up at you, punch-drunk, absently rubbing your cum into my skin, licking a bit off my index finger before you allow me to get up. "Yum," I remark, grinning at your own big, gorgeous grin. This earns me a long, lingering kiss before we both start to dress. 

We are decent for precisely ninety seconds before there's a knock on your door. I hold your arm back to restrain you; the room reeks of our sweat and sex. As you shrug me off and cross to the door, I feel the blush spreading across my features, and that familiar twinge between my legs again.