0 comments/ 32958 views/ 2 favorites Chair By: Cheryl Dixon fasten my fishnet stockings to the black suspenders, then pull on my big shiny boots - I call them my come-fuck-me boots because attracting a man is partly their purpose. When I'm with a man and I'm wearing them, they make me feel powerful. I start doing up the long laces, all the way up to just below my knees they go. Big boots make me feel so strong, they make me feel so superior. I stand looking at myself in the mirror for a few moments. Messed up hair, black lace and satin push up bra supporting a creamy white cleavage, down to black fishnet stockings held in place by the black suspender belt. A black g-string over the suspenders so that it's easier to take off, and finally the black boots. I suppose I look good, even if I do say so myself. I certainly do feel good, and that's what really matters to me. I leave the mirror, returning to where I left him, tied to the chair. He's been waiting patiently, naked, just like good boy. I stand in front of him, watching for any reactions. His cock is already showing appreciation at my attire, but I want to tease him. I run my hands over the material that covers my breasts, smoothing them down over my stomach, down to my thighs and the tops of the stockings. My hands move back up to my breasts. He's staring at me silently. Mesmerised. I pull my breasts slightly out of the bra, exposing my nipples which I start to play with. I'm starting to turn myself on, so I remove my bra and take a step closer to him. He opens his mouth as I press my left breast against him, he licks and sucks at my nipple. He begins moaning, I can see that he's getting really turned on, so I pull back and stand in front of him again... I stand there running my hands over my own body and through my hair - I know he likes to watch. Then I place my right foot on the chair. He can't reach out and touch me even though he tries, straining against the ropes. He moves his head to kiss my knee: this I allow. I run my hands down his chest but nowhere near his dick, this I leave alone... for now. I stop touching him, moving in front of him again. I turn away and face the opposite wall. Then I spread my legs and pull my underwear down to my ankles, giving him the perfect view of my pussy from behind. He breathes heavier. I remove my underwear fully and turn to face him again. Seeing the lust in his eyes, the pleading in his face and his hard penis makes me smile. I love to see him needing and wanting me this badly. I move my hand to between my own thighs where I'm wet. I start fingering myself and sucking my own fingers, then I trace my juice over his lips and he licks at my fingers. I move down and kiss his lips, first briefly, then with more passion. It's now time... I place my legs either side of him and slowly lower myself onto his cock, it slides easily inside of me as it's done so many times before. He groans with pleasure, and so I move slowly up again, then come down hard and fast onto it. I keep him tied up so I get to do all of the work, rubbing my clit against him and pressing my pussy into him. Grinding and bucking against his body, onto his cock, up and down, hard and fast, slow and gentle. My breasts press against his chest and he kisses and licks my skin. Becoming more urgent, I start playing with my clit with one hand, this tips me over the edge and I hold tightly to his body. I feel my juices smearing our thighs, making us sticky. This new found wetness does it for him and just before he'd about to come I jump off of him and take his cock between my breasts. He comes all over my chest. I smile, looking up at him. Now that we're finished I untie him, he kisses me, telling me I'm the greatest fuck in the world. Chair My breath escapes me in a rush as I see the soft cord dangling from your hands. You simply look at me in amusement and raise your eyebrow in question. I'm so excited that I'm shaking in anticipation, and I nod at you with a growing smile. The pounding through my veins is like a tribal drum beating out a mating dance as you advance toward me. You hold out your hand in invitation and I take it. You lead me to a clear area of the room, near a desk, and pull out the straight-backed wooden chair. Then you return to the bed to retrieve a pillow... I'm so turned on that I can barely see straight, let alone register what is happening. You motion for me to sit on the chair before folding the pillow in half and sliding it behind me, effectively making me sit at the edge of the chair. As an afterthought, you fetch another pillow and bring it back, propping it up on top of the first pillow to give me a cushion if I lean back against the chair. Satisfied with your work, you move behind me. Taking a deep breath at what's about to happen, you gently take my arms and move them behind the back of the chair... You tell me to sit straight up for slack. Crossing my wrists, you deftly bind them firmly with the cord -- not too tight -- and then you take the loose ends and loop them through a rung of the chair and tie them together, giving me just enough play to be comfortable, but I'm essentially bound. Satisfied with your work, you circle back to stand in front of me and notice that my head's down. Half-afraid we may have already taken this too far, you quietly ask if I'm okay. My head immediately rises, my eyes collide with yours, and you can see the wild carnality there. This time your breath escapes YOU as you realize that I was probably trying to get myself in check. My eyes close for a moment, my head lowers slightly. When I next look at you, the wild look has been replaced with one of pure abandon. Abandon to you. The sight takes you aback completely and causes your already-hardened cock to throb painfully. You're in awe of the look, and you know I don't give it to many people. You drop to your knees in front of me and reach up to pull my head down to you to claim my mouth, searing me with your heat, tasting me with your tongue. My moan is your undoing and you catch my hair in your hand to lure my head back as you blaze a trail down my neck with your lips. I quietly cry out your name as each touch of your mouth on my skin sends an electric shock to my very core. My nipples tighten into a delicious pucker and goose-bumps form on my skin. You trail your tongue over the miniature speed bumps as you move down over the swell of my breast. Your tongue trails over the creamy skin and, without teasing me more, flicks against a pebble-hard nipple. I can't stop the cry that escapes my throat as my head falls back. I'm so wired, and the void between my legs is achingly empty. Anything you do now will simply be very, very sweet torture. You follow with a gentle scraping of your teeth over the stiff nub. I squeal. And then you about lose it when I whisper "Harder." You gladly comply. You circle the edge of my rosy areola with your teeth and bite firmly as you slowly pull your head back, stretching my nipple, causing a scraping sensation as it slowly slides from between your teeth. I groan the entire time at your assault, whimpering when you free me of the torment. You lean back and look at my now-quivering breasts. Not wanting to neglect the other, you raise your thumb and index finger to gruffly pinch and twist the rosy skin. I cry out and whisper my assent at the sharp pleasure/pain you're giving me. Not only am I wired now, but my clit is throbbing, and my juices are spreading to my inner-thighs. You release my nipple and apply pressure to my legs with your hands, urging them apart. You position yourself between them -- not enough to be tempted to gratefully slide into my heat, but close enough to have plenty of access. You raise your hands to again stroke my breasts before you firmly slide your hands down my sides, enjoying the feel of the soft skin and curves beneath your touch. I shiver. And then you bring your mouth to my sternum and kiss your way down my belly and further... Your hands slide back to grasp my ass as your mouth first finds my musky heat. You simply kiss your way down over me and I sigh in amazement at the simple feeling. Then your hands urge my legs further apart... ... and I gasp as your tongue finds it's way between my folds and into my wetness, gently moving up to part my pouty lips and to find the base of my engorged clit. You pull back before going any further, making me sigh in frustration, letting out the breath that I'd held while concentrating on the feeling of your actions. And then... just a touch... your tongue on my clit... and I cry out your name in hot amazement. You don't tease long, but you do enjoy flicking your tongue lightly over me a few times as my gasps and squeals fill your ears. Finally, your lips settle gently around my core and you lightly suck on me. I cum almost immediately at this simple action. My body goes rigid and you hear my hoarse cries as spasms rake through my body. You back off, not wanting to hurt me. I came so quickly, and you barely had a chance to get started! But you want to give my body a chance to calm down before continuing... My breathing finally begins to slow. But before you can continue, I level my hot gaze at you and tell you to stand up and move beside me. Unable to resist, you do just that. Your cock is at the perfect level and I open my mouth, strain my bonds by leaning over enough to reach you, and let my tongue dance across your cockhead. You growl at the thrills that shoot up the length of you and move a bit closer, giving me easier access. At this, my lips seal around you and the gentle suction begins... Before long, I'm lazily sliding my mouth up and down the length of you. You can feel yourself starting towards release... You abruptly pull away, not wanting this to end yet... and not this way. You lean over, kiss me, and tell me that it isn't time for that right now. I smile, knowing how much you enjoy my mouth on you, knowing how difficult it was for you to pull away. And then you again kneel down between my legs and drop your attention to my body... You slide your hands up my inner thighs, your thumbs catching the skin to either side of my pussy lips, spreading them so that my clit is in plain view. Such a small little thing, but such a powerful bundle of nerves... Oh so gently, you bring the tip of your relaxed tongue to it. No use causing pain by subjecting me to a firm caress right after orgasm... You take a quick taste and my body tenses at the intense pleasure and I sit up. You immediately retreat and breathe hot air over me, relaxing me again, and I fall back against the pillow. And then you change your tactics, using the flat of your tongue to blanket the little knob. My pleasure-filled sigh/moan tells you to continue. And continue you do -- barely moving the blanket of your tongue over the nub, caressing, stimulating, and comforting at the same time. It's almost more than I can take -- all I can do is moan out your name and tell you how incredible it feels. Encouraged, you let a single hand take over the task of spreading me for you, and drop the other to my steamy wetness, to slowly slide one finger, then two, into my heat. I groan, and you start to thrust your fingers into me. I whimper. You add a third finger to the thrusting, filling me as you give me the pseudo-fuck. All I can do is gasp, in awe of the amazing feeling of what you're doing and of the speed with which my next orgasm is building. You're able to look up at me while you're servicing me and witness my eyes closed, my head back and slowly rolling from side to side. My breasts are stretched taut, my nipples are still puckered. And my cries are filling the air. And you just keep up your efforts, knowing that I'm getting close -- my pussy is continually tightening around your fingers, and my breaths are coming out in short gasps. I groan, I squeal... and then I cry out your name as my head abruptly drops forward and my body is again raked with spasms. You immediately back away from my clit, and more slowly remove your fingers from my hot box. My breath catches and my eyes find yours. "Please..." I manage to utter, and then glance at your wet fingers. Your amazement is apparent as you raise your fingers to my mouth. One by one, I clean your moist fingers. And then, with dark eyes and a low voice, I tell you that I want to taste you again. My gaze never leaves yours as you rise and again move to stand beside me. Only when you're there do my eyes drop to your delicious cock. My mouth finds you and I proceed to "blow" your mind! You know you won't last long with me doing this. You thrust your cock into my mouth a few times, enjoying the feel of my tongue playing along the length of you. And then you have to pull away again. You drop to your knees between my legs again as your hands sear my body. Your mouth finds one breast, and then the other, and then my mouth. And then you know that you have to finish this. You reach behind me with both hands as your tongue teases my navel and my torso. You release the cord from the chair, leaving me bound at the wrists. And then you look up at me and suggest a position... My breath catches in my throat and my eyes darken. I know what's coming and I'm more than ready! You rise and help me to turn around and kneel on the chair. And then you just step back and look at me -- my arms are resting on the chair back, my ass is thrust out in invitation. The sight is almost enough to make you blow on the spot. But there's a warm, wet place into which you'd rather unload... I hear you approach and then feel your hands slide over my hips, your lips on my back. And then I feel you guiding your hot prick to my waiting sex. You lube up your cockhead and then sloooowly slide just that part of your prick into my heat. A loud rush of air escapes me and you immediately feel my muscles testing you... it feels fantastic and you know you'd better get on with it if you want to last at all. You put both of your hands on my hips to steady me and then deliberately slide your fullness into me, backing off only once to lube... I simply let out one continuous breath through the entire, incredible movement -- I can practically taste you filling me! You stay put for a moment, enjoying the warmth surrounding your engorged flesh. And then you pull back and then ram back home, making me squeal at the fierce pleasure! You retreat again, bending at the knees a bit, and then slide back in, feeling your cock scrape along the front wall, looking for a single spot... And you know you've hit it at my intense reaction -- by body goes taut for a moment and I wordlessly exclaim. You withdraw and then slowly try again, prompting me for direction. I lead you there with stilted commands -- "A little forward, no back a bit, shift a tiny bit to your right... OH!!!!" And you know you've found the spot. You keep the pressure there, moving very slightly to stimulate the spot, and I reward you with moans and half-formed cries... and then my back starts to undulate in front of you as my pussy clamps down on your cock and my body begins to shudder again and again. That's your breaking point. You proceed to recklessly pound into my body, enjoying the friction of the slide, the jolt of hitting home, and the rush of each withdrawal. Your blood is pounding through your cock and you can feel yourself swelling to an amazing size as my pussy milks you, begging for your cream... and then you thrust one last time, savoring the flow of your juices filling my heat... Chair I struggled a bit, not expecting to be able to get out of my bonds. Just as I expected, they were much too securely tied. I tossed my head, briefly being thankful that I no longer had long hair to get in my face. I adjusted myself to sit up straight, feeling the pull of the ropes on my ankles, securing them tightly to the legs of the chair. I was glad this stool had foot rests. It is hard work, sitting with legs open, feet flat halfway up the legs of the stool. I'd had a couple of scares- if my feet slip, the whole chair jerks forward, and i'd go straight down under it. Foot rests gave me a good place to rest my toes, even if they did start to cramp. Wooden chairs don't feel great on naked skin, but there are worse things. Believe me, there are worse things! The corners of the back of the chair began to dig into my upper arms. Not only had he tied my hands together behind the chair, but he'd also tied them to the bottom of the chair. I was thankful for the space between the back and seat of the chair- it let the pig tail part of my butt plug hang down. But- oh!- a quick movement of my arms made me realize he'd also tied my bound wrists to the base of the butt plug. I guess I won't be moving my hands too much today. I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter. The chair began to get wet as well, making it very slippery. To adjust, I had to use my upper arms, which made my hands move. This led to a nice shock from the plug shoved up my rump. As usual, he's put me facing the wall. This is my punishment. Today, I failed to be in position when he arrived at home. Well. I was in position, but I didn't have enough time to put in my blue butt plug. He lets me wear the smaller black one while I am cleaning his house, but by the time he gets home, I must have the blue one in! He says he likes my ass already stretched for whatever he wants to do to it. All of a sudden, my view goes dark as a blindfold is tied around my head. He checks to make sure I can't see a thing, and before walking away, he gives a little tug on my hands. He laughs as I jump as the plug pulls on my ass. "Don't lose it," he mocks. "You'd hate to see my punishment for that." I nod, and mumble, "Yes, my master" from behind the ball gag. Even though I'm gagged, I must reply or face more punishment. It is quiet. I don't know what he is doing. Sometimes, he likes to watch to make sure I'm behaving myself. I sit very still. Maybe 15 minutes passes, and all of a sudden, I feel hands shoving my legs even farther apart. I almost start to fall, but he is leaning over me and keeps me upright. I feel an intrusion in my vag, and I instinctually squirm against it. He stops and gives me a tug on the butt plug. I stop squirming. He pushes the invader the rest of the way in. It pushes against the plug and I feel a feeling of incredible fullness. I have a feeling I know what he's put inside me. The egg begins vibrating as he plays with a remote in his hand. I manage to stay still for a minute, but not long. My breathing gets heavy around the ball gag. My toes are pressed very tightly against the chair, but I can't help but slip on my wetness I've gotten all over the chair. AsI try to use my arms to right myself, I pull on the butt plug. This just makes the sensations coming from the egg even more intense. I'm stuck in a cycle, and before I know it, I can feel an impending orgasm. "Sir!" I try to yell, but the ball gag just makes it sound like a grunt. I know if I don't ask permission to orgasm, I'll be in even more trouble than I already am. There's no telling what he'll make me do next. I try my hardest to stop it, but it is no use. He must be standing right there, because he ups the speed on the egg. "Permission to cum please, Sir!" I yell. "Mm mm mmm mmm?" He mocks. "I don't speak that language." I squirm some more, trying to move the egg inside me, but it is no use. I'm not going to be able to stop this, and he's not going to grant me permission unless I ask properly. As I try to think of a way to get the ball gag off, he comes behind me and slips its tiny padlock onto the clasp. It locks with a tiny click, and I know I will be getting into a lot of trouble tonight. "Having issues?" He asks again, laughing. I can't help myself. The buzzing in my soaking wet vag, the constant pulling on the butt plug as I try to right myself in the chair- I orgasm, head thrown back, moans emerging from behind the ball gag. I'm lucky- he lets me finish this time. I slump in the chair, panting. The egg is still vibrating inside me. He picks up the entire chair and walks to the bedroom. "Someone isn't going to like the rest of the night." Chair in the Corner Before I start I should really tell you a bit about our village. If you are used to planned gridiron building then our village will be a shock to you. People have lived here and hereabouts for at least a couple of thousand years. There was a Roman camp nearby, and there are carvings in rocks that are much older than that. What I am saying is that the village was not organised, it had just happened. Most people only see it from the main road, lined as it is with shops, houses and a couple of pubs. However behind those buildings is a hotch potch of buildings of all shapes sizes orientations and states of repair. What were houses have become sheds or ruins or businesses. Barns have become houses. Gardens have been built on. Old buildings have been robbed of their stone and their footprints have become gardens. There's a network of lanes, paths, alleys, ginnels, and short cuts that most people only partially know. For instance, just behind the Running Fox, my usual pub, there's the old stables from when the Fox had been a coaching inn, now converted into stores and toilets. Most people, and that used to include me, don't know that there is a snicket behind the stables that leads to ... But I am getting ahead of myself. Life was not great. I had only a couple of months to go before I retired, and my job was grim. The youngsters in the office got all the training and new equipment. I was left to do the dull old boring essential stuff - of which there was a lot. My boss specialised in finding fault with what I did. I knew how things were done, and how they had been done for years. He thought he knew and spent his time writing manuals and checklists which were just wrong and a total waste of time. But he kept ranting that I was supposed to work "By the Book". Roll on those eight weeks. My wife had her job. She was a care worker, and somehow, while our kids were at home she found it best to work permanent nights, and this had continued. We hardly saw each other, and did not have much to say to each other when we did. How would things be when we were spending more time together again? My Boss had been worse than usual. I got home to see my wife leaving for her work. There was nothing interesting on the television. I felt miserable. I decided I wanted a drink. I put on a light overcoat, locked the house and slouched my way down the hill to the main road. At least the weather was good. In the village shop I bought a half bottle of whisky and a newspaper. It was quite warm out, and I decided to go to go to the pub for a beer. I thought of having a meal there, but I realised I wasn't really that hungry. I bought a pint. Saw a table in the corner, slid onto the end of the bench against the wall and opened my paper. The evening, and my beer slipped and sipped away. "Excuse me lovey, are you getting another beer?" I don't think I had been asleep, but I had not been aware of the lady coming to sit beside me. I looked at my beer glass, and it was empty. "Yes, I think I will." "Well could you just stick another gin into there for me?" "Yes, of course. Large or small?" "Oooh, a large one if you would." I took her glass and mine up to the bar. The barman looked puzzled when he saw the gin glass, but said nothing. I paid for the drinks and turned to see that someone else has seated themselves at my table. "Over here lovey." The lady was standing by the back door waving my newspaper. "Lets go and sit outside," she suggested. I followed her out into what had been the stable yard. A couple of old tables and a few chairs were scattered about. I gave her her drink. I thought that she might offer to pay for it, but she said nothing but "Ta.". We sat. Swallows where wheeling and screeching above our heads. Pigeons were cooing. A cat stalked out of a store room and hunted its way towards the kitchen door. We sipped. My newspaper lay between us on the table. "Look at me lovey," she said, "Do you know who I am?" We had both placed our chairs with their backs to the wall, so I had to twist to have a good look. Her face was familiar, but only that. I was sure that I had never met her before. "How's your Beryl?" Beryl is my wife. "I don't really know. I think she's all right. She's at work. Do you know her?" She made a noise that wasn't a word, but that was probably saying she knew Beryl, but I could not be sure. We lapsed into silence again. We sipped. We sipped. She drained her glass as I swallowed my last mouthful. "I want to pay you for my drink." She stood up. I saw that she had a large handbag, and she slipped her empty glass into it. I stood. She walked across the yard and down a gap between two of the old stables, then turned right and took the path that continued behind the building before opening out onto an old overgrown walled orchard. I followed. I noticed what she was wearing for the first time. She had long skirts, that she lifted above the grass, revealing high buttoned shoes. Her waist seemed very trim for her age. What was her age? I was never good at judging them, but I suppose she could have been anywhere between forty and sixty, or perhaps more. She had a short jacket, it was well worn, but it looked expensive originally. Whatever age she was, she seemed sprightly enough. She led me diagonally across the orchard, on what seemed a well used track, to a doorway near the opposite corner. It was a cottage forming part of the orchard wall. She took a key from a hook hidden behind some ivy, and opened it. She gestured that I should enter, and then closed the door behind herself. A low fire burned in an black iron kitchen range. She slid a kettle across to the heat and it started to sing. She put the glass from her handbag onto the table, and fetched another similar one from a cupboard. "You can have your whisky, or you can taste this." She held an unlabelled green bottle with a cork stuffed into its neck. "I make it myself. It's apples." "I'll try that if I may." She smiled. I was wondering about how she knew about the bottle hidden in my pocket. Her bottle contained a brown liquid, like a dark rum perhaps. She poured half an inch into the glass. "Taste this. Have some more if you like it." Yes, it was apples. It was the scent of apple blossom, the sharpness of apple sauce. The sweetness of a sweet cider, with the acid of a scrumpy. It was an apple brandy. "Good?" she asked. "Very!" She half filled my glass to match her own. "I think that I am the last one to make it now." She smiled, but there were sad memories behind the smile. Now when the kettle boils put a little hot water into it - I think you'll like it. Careful you don't let the hot water touch the glass." She slipped through a door behind me, leaving me to sip and to listen to the kettle. When she returned the kettle was still singing, just short of the boil, but she took a spoon and a cloth, and lifted the kettle to pour hot water over the back of the spoon into the glasses. She had changed out of her skirt and jacket, and was wearing a long loose wrap-around gown - it was embroidered with birds and flowers. She seemed to have changed shape somewhat. Apparently her trim waist had been assisted by underwear. "You don't mind this do you lovey?" She obviously meant her change of wear. "Posh clothes can be so uncomfortable and restricting. "Do take your coat off." She moved to stand behind me, I stood and she helped me off with my coat. Before she hung it up she removed the bottle from its pocket and put it beside the green one on the table. I sat again, and lifted the warm glass. Before it had reached my lips the scent of it made me stop and study it. It was all the seasons in one. The hot water had brought out the spice of Christmas and the bee buzz of summer-honey, spring flowers and the rustle of fallen leaves. I was afraid that the taste would be an anticlimax, but... She had her hands on my shoulders. She stroked the muscles in my neck. "Relax lovey. You're like a bowstring." She was right. My anger and frustrations at work were there for her fingers to sense. How long? My glass was nearly empty. Her hands had stroked and kneaded, and my neck and shoulders were relaxed to the point of floppyness. She stood close behind me and I was aware of her warmth and body pressing against me. She lifted my head, and pressed it back against herself, against her lovely warm soft rounded self. Her hands moved down and started unbuttoning my shirt. It was soon over the same hook as my coat. She gave me a simple cotton dressing gown to wear, and told me to come through when I was ready. Was I going to strip off and go with a woman whose name I didn't know? A woman who had conned me into buying her a large gin? A woman who lived in a cottage that had seen no improvements in years? A woman who could make that wonderful drink? A woman who could make me feel as happy and relaxed as I could never remember? I folded my trousers onto the chair, left shoes and socks underneath it, and still with my underpants in place, wrapped the gown around myself and went through the door. There was another fire glowing in a small grate, and a nightlight candle was burning in a saucer on a dressing table. She had removed her gown, it was hanging on the door, and she had slipped beneath the sheets, blankets and eiderdown. "Come on lovey, take them off and get in here." I obeyed. The bed was quite narrow, and rather lumpy, but soft and comfortable. She put her arms around me and pulled us together. Her hand sought out mine, and placed it upon her breast. "That's nice, lovey." I stroked the soft flesh, and encountered the hardened nipple. "That's good." she gasped. My finger circled her nipple, and she reacted. She pulled my head down to it and told me to kiss it. Once again, I obeyed. I remembered my youth. I remembered my urgent desire to discover what a real live female human breast felt like. I remembered my fumbling on park benches and in cinemas with my wife-to-be. I remembered how she would now and then allow me a quick fondle. My wife had never reacted this way. For her, being together in bed was either for sleep or for making babies - fun it was not. Here was I making this stranger melt and moan just by exciting one of her nipples. She moved me to her other breast. She encouraged me to kiss one while I tweaked the other between my fingers. "That's good, lovey." She shuffled round in the bed so as to lie on her back. She grasped my wrist and transferred my hand from her breast to lower down. She guided my fingers to the mound between her legs. For my wife, 'down there' was not for fun. It was definitely for making babies and for things lavatorial. Now I was being invited to play and explore - no, it was more than an invitation, it was a demand. She scuffled around in the bed, she was reaching out of the bed for something. After a few moments her hand rejoined mine, and she put a glob of something onto her mound. "That'll make it more slippery." She guided my finger into her privacy. I started to explore. "Careful lovey, be gentle." I was afraid that I had hurt her, and did not know what was expected of me. "Let me guide your finger." My middle finger was gently held, and its tip was introduced to the warmth between her labia. It was guided deeper and lower until I could feel the entrance to her... her... what was I to call it? "Push your finger into my cunny dear." "Yes, that's nice. Feel inside me. - Go on. - It's good." I could feel her muscles contracting around my finger. "Put another finger in lovey." I obeyed. "Oh yes. Feel me. Curl your fingers a bit. Yes, yes, press there." I felt a spongey pad, and gasps erupted when I touched or pressed it. "Now go to my clitty." I was not sure what she wanted. "Oh you poor man. Here lovey!" My finger was once more guided to her intended spot. I could feel her little nubbin of flesh. "Gently. Gently. Don't forget my breast lovey. Oh, that's good." Slowly she let me know what she wanted - a steady rhythm, as gently as possible, but gradually getting firmer and quicker and harder and harder and harder. Her hand grasped my head and pressed it to her breast. "Harder. Harder. Bite me. Bite me" I nervously nibbled her nipple and the result was dramatic. She squealed and bucked. She gasped and rocked. Then she dragged my hand from between her legs. "Not too much lovey. Thank you. Thank you." she panted. What had I done. Of course I knew the theory, but the actual practice. To have that sort of effect upon another person. Marvellous. How marvellous. I gently kissed her breast again, and her whole body spasmed. "Sorry. I said. "Oh, don't be, lovey. That was so nice." She slowly got her breath back. "I'm sorry lovey, I need to go." She slid out of the bed, put on her gown and a pair of slippers, opened the door and slipped out. After a few minutes I heard the clank and rush of an old fashioned toilet flush. I realised that I needed to go as well. I put on my gown and walked into the other room. When she emerged from the loo I made clear that I needed it as well. When finished, I came out again to find that she had put a bowl onto the table, and was pouring some warm water from the kettle. "For your hands and things." She took a couple of wash cloths and towels from a drawer, and put a piece of soap on a saucer beside the bowl. She washed her hands vigorously, and I followed suit. Then she picked up a cloth, soaped it, and applied it to her nether regions. "Come on, lovey, I want you to be nice and clean for me." I was hesitant. She wasn't. Before I knew what was happening she had a sopping soapy wash cloth caressing and rubbing my cock and balls. I realised that what she was doing was more than just washing me, she was caressing me. I had dried my hands, and she took my towel, and dabbed and stroked me with it until I was dried to her satisfaction. "Come back to bed. lovey." She made me lie in the middle of the bed. She put some more fuel onto the grate and poked it into activity. Then she came and sat on the bed beside me. Her hand caressed me. My body made it clear that I was enjoying her attentions. She stroked gently up and down my shaft. She cupped and caressed and tickled my balls. It felt marvellous. I am sure that I need not reveal that I had never been on the receiving end of such caresses from my wife. I closed my eyes and luxuriated in the feelings. Then it happened. I felt her warm breath, a kiss, a gentle lick. Her lips engulfed the end of my shaft. Lips and tongue were working. She lifted off. "You like that, don't you lovey?" She returned to her ministrations for a minute or so. After a time she pulled the bedding over me, lay down beside me, and whispered. "This is for you now, lovey. What would you like?" I was at a loss. I thought that the mouth was good, but I didn't know what else was on offer.. "Its for you, lovey, but I know what I would like." Somehow I agreed without knowing what it was. "I do love it when I am loved in my other place." What did she mean? "You know, lovey, in my bum." Again, I knew that it happened, but I never thought that it would involve me. "It was good when I was younger. The boys liked it, and there was no risk of expecting." Again, I was lost for words. Her hand found my manhood and stroked it. "You seem quite excited by the idea." True. "You'll have to get me ready for it though." "What do you mean?" "I'll show you. Pass that jar." The jar was beside the bed. She felt my hand. She ran her fingers along my finger nails. "Nice and short and smooth." She laid herself sideways across the bed, so that her bum was right on the edge. She spread her legs apart. I tried to have a good look at her parts. "Oh. lovey, do you want some more light? She swung herself from the bed and picked up a paraffin lamp from the shelf and a splinter of wood was lit from the fire. The flame was transferred to the lamp. Another lamp was lit, and the room was filled with a warm yellow flickering light. She posed on the side of the bed for me. "Put some of the cream on your finger." I got a tiny dab from the jar. "No, get plenty. More than that." I did. "Now... Tickle my bum with it" I hesitated. She grinned at me. I put my finger between her buttocks, and once more explored the unknown. "There, you've found it." I had. I had found the puckered region, and the cream on my finger was being spread around it. "That's it lovey. Get the cream inside me." I pushed a little, and the puckering relaxed, and caressed the tip of my finger. "Mmmmmmm." I wiggled my finger, and pushed a bit further. "Mmmmmmmngngng" I could feel a resistance to my finger's progress. "There, you've found it. Tickle it and it will relax and let you in." Hesitant. Strange. Slow. Tight. Warm. Forbidden. Fascinating. It blossomed open. My finger slipped inwards. It pulsed and relaxed. "Good lovie, another finger, go on." I complied. It relaxed and expanded. "Now you lovie. Put yourself inside me." Her hand came back and guided my penis onto her bumhole. "Gently now lovie. Push. Push. Yes, that's it. Push." Slowly, slowly my penis was being taken in. "Come out, lovie. Put some more cream on yourself." I spread some over the head. "Again, lovie, push it into me." It slid in quite easily. God, it was hot. It was tight and hot. I could feel her pulsing around me. She moaned. "Does it hurt you?" I asked. "No lovie, It feels delicious. Doesn't it" I agreed. "In and out, lovie, move it in and out." I was relishing, wallowing in the sensation. I moved myself slowly. "That's it, in and out, in and out." I moved, and then found that I could not stop myself moving. I pumped, slowly at first, and then with increasing frenzy. "Come on, lovie. It's wonderful. Are you there? Come on, Inside me, Inside. Oh God. Oh lovie, lovie, Lovie, Lovie LOVIE, OH YES" She spasmed as I flooded into her. She let her legs relax. I slipped out of her. "Good?" she grinned. She shuffled across the bed, and gestured that I should join her. We hugged. It was still dark when I awoke. She was standing beside me. She was dressed in a working smock. She had brought my clothes through from the other room. "You had better get dressed. It will be daylight soon." Dressed, I joined her in the other room. She gave me a cup and saucer. It was a pale green steaming drink. Herby and honeyed. So refreshing. She helped me into my coat. As I was leaving the door into the orchard she slipped the whisky bottle into my coat pocket. "Just go straight down the path, past the Fox, then turn right." The moon illuminated my route. I found myself on a back lane, climbing the hill parallel to my route the evening before. It joined our road about 100 yards from home. As I unlocked my door the first light of dawn was brightening the sky. Was it the herbal drink? Was it the excitement of the night? All I could do was to get undressed again, and go back to bed. I awoke late. I usually get up at six, breakfast, and make my way to catch the early train to work. I had to rush, breakfastless, to get the later one. Still, I would have been at work on time had the train not been delayed. I arrived half an hour late - at the same time as the Managing Director. I had worked with and for him for many years, and we had a mutual respect. He asked me about my retirement, and about the pre-retirement courses that I was attending. He was surprised to hear that I had not been offered these. Chair in the Corner As I was late, the procedure was to explain, face to face, my reasons to my boss on arrival. So I knocked on his door and half opened it. "Oh, you have got here at last you idle cunt. I'm here trying to sort out your fucking cock-ups while you lie in bed wanking." Beside me the door swung fully open. "You," the M.D. growled, "In my office. Now." My boss looked shell-shocked, and staggered out of the room. The M.D. led me into the Bosses office and closed the door. "What was all that about?" "Well, I was late!" Why was I apologising for him? I looked at the paperwork on the desk. I recognised it. It was a job where I had been instructed to follow the boss's check-list, but that I knew needed different handling. I explained the problem. "Right. I'll deal with it. You make yourself scarce. Take the day off. Come and see me on Monday morning. This will be your office from now. Let's see how he copes with your job." So, I made my way back to the station, back to the village. I was famished. I had not been hungry the previous evening, and had missed my breakfast. The Fox was open, and it was well known for its roast beef sandwiches. It was too early for beer, so I had a coffee. I sat at the same table as the previous evening and waited for my refreshment to arrive. I looked to my side, where she had sat. She had not been on the bench beside me, but on the other side. There was no chair there now - there was an old varnished barrel with a lamp fixed upon it. It was clear, from the dust and floor colour that the barrel had been there for some time. My sandwich and coffee arrived and I soon made it disappear. I left the Fox by the back door into the yard. Yes, the snicket between the buildings was there and I took it. Where it joined the path behind the buildings, however things were different. The path to the right, that we had taken, was overgrown with brambles. Looking along it, where there had been the orchard there was a building site. I turned left, and found the path and back lane as I remembered it - a useful short cut between home and the Fox. Back home, Beryl, my wife was seated at the kitchen table. She had boxes and albums of photographs spread before her. "What's the matter? Are you OK?" she asked. I explained to her about the late train, my Boss, and the M.D. "About time too. He has been bullying you for long enough. I've got some news too. They want me to work days." "Are you happy with that?" "Yes, I think so. We will be able to see more of each other." I asked about the photographs. Beryl explained that they were doing a project with the the elderly folk she helped care for. She was looking for photos that might trigger their memories. I glanced at them. One stole my attention "Beryl, who is that? "I don't know. She took the photo from the album. Pencilled on the back was:- 'Ethel Corbett. Orchard Cottage. Herbalist and Seamstress.' "Corbett?" This was my wife's maiden name. "Any relation?" "Ethel?" she pondered. "It might be my great Aunt Ethel." I picked up the photograph. The face was the same, and so was the clinched waist. The face was familiar because of the similarity to my wife's. The jacket looked similar as well. "I think that I remember my Gran saying something about her once. I don't think the family had much to do with her. They were very chapel and tea-total, and she was supposed to have a bit of a reputation. She is supposed to have been a drinker and to have had men to visit, with gifts and stuff." I was stunned. I had dreamed that I had spent the night, and what a night, with my wife's great aunt. But the path? How had I known about that? Now I did need a drink. I fetched the bottle from my overcoat pocket. I got a glass, and twisted the top, expecting the resistance of the metal tamper-proof seal, but it opened easily. I looked at it. The fluid in the bottle was dark. I put the kettle on, and fetched another glass. I poured a little into each glass, and added hot water. Yes. Apples. I sipped. Oh yes. I put the other glass on the table beside Beryl. I stood behind her as she sat. "Taste that, my darling." I put my hands on her shoulder and started to massage. "That feels nice." She picked up her glass, and sipped. She liked it. I massaged. I stroked. I allowed my hands to slide down in front of her. I cupped her breasts. I could feel her nipples hardening beneath my hands. "Ooooh, lovie" Beryl murmured, "That feels very nice." ............................................ Thanks for reading this. If you liked it, please tell me. If you didn't. Please tell me why, and I will try to do better. Chair Massage This is something that happened when I spent a week working in Berlin. I spent Monday through Thursday working but I had the Friday off. While I was there I had been complaining a bit about having a stiff back to one of the German girls I was working with she gave me the address of a massage therapist. I thought why not and called to make an appointment for Friday afternoon. I turned up at the place which was just a residential house in a nice neighborhood and knocked at the door. It was opened by a woman in her late thirties dressed in what I can only describe as medical scrubs she had a nice figure and long blonde hair tied in a plat down her back. She was very pale and had very blue eyes. She was also barefoot and told me to remove my shoes as soon as I was through the door. This I did and followed her into an office space. I sat down and she started to question me. She introduced herself as Gerlinde and started to ask questions about my health and so on. Fortunately for me Gerlinde spoke very good English. She decided that because of the problems I was having with my back a chair massage would be the best thing. I was led into a room which took me back a bit as it looked more or less like a dentists office with a large technical looking chair in the centre. Apparently the chair is the sort of thing that was in old fashioned barber shops but is perfect for this kind of massage as it has a lot of movement it also has rollers with paper covering it which make it hygienic. It was only a small room and I was told to undress use the toilet and shower. These were in a little anti room. I came back into the room wrapped in a towel to find that Gerlinde had closed the curtains and lit some smelly candles which made the room feel a bit less like a dentists. I was told to remove the towel and kneel on the chair with my arms over the back. I did feel a bit odd being naked in front of a stranger but I got on the chair as she said and she adjusted it till I was a bit more comfortable. The massage started with my neck and shoulders. I started to relax into it a bit and the warm oil was very nice. Soon Gerlinde moved around and started to massage my lower back and this really did feel like it was helping the stiffness that I had around there. Then her hands moved to my buttocks and her hands gently caressed my pussy. I was a bit surprised by this but wasn't too bothered. She then told me to sit in the chair. I got up and turned around and sat. Gerlinde changed the position of the chair so that I was almost laying on my back. She dribbled some oil on my chest and started to massage my breasts. I could feel my nipples getting very hard and I was a bit embarrassed. She gently started to massage my left nipple. I must have tensed up a little as Garlinde told me to relax. I was able to and soon I started to enjoy the sensation of having someone who knew what they were doing massage my sensitive nipples. By now I was starting to feel more than a little tingling down below. After finishing massaging my nipples Gerlinde massaged my belly again, a few times her hand seemed to flirt with my pussy but my legs were together. She then put her hands on my knees and gently pulled my legs apart. I was a bit apprehensive but I opened my legs wide. Gerlinde stood to my left and gently started to massage around my pussy lips occasionally running a finger up to my clit barely touching it. I could feel myself getting wet and then Gerlinde gently pushed two fingers inside me. This was unexpected but it felt so good. Her other hand started to massage my clit gently at first and then a bit harder. I could feel an orgasm building up inside me and I could feel the fingers inside me gently massaging in just the right place. As it grew Gerlinde backed off a little using her right hand to massage my belly while the fingers of her left were inside me, then as I felt the orgasm subside a bit she again massaged my clit. This went on for a while until finally Gerlinde told me I could cum. I closed my eyes and let her fingers do their magic. I could feel her inside of me finding just the right spot to massage while she also worked on my clit and soon I had a huge shuddering orgasm. Wave on wave came over me and I could feel my whole body filled with pleasure. After a while I started to calm down and Gerlinde gently massaged my chest while she still had her fingers in me. I think she was waiting for my heart to slow down a bit. She then removed her fingers and said I could lay there for a bit before getting dressed. I took my time and then slowly stood up. The only way I can describe how I felt is high. I got dressed and went back into the office space and Gerlinde told me to sit down and gave me a cup of herbal tea. I was a bit flustered but we chatted for a bit. I didn't let on that not only had I not expected it to be that kind of massage but I had never had an experience with another woman before. Still I have to go back to Berlin next month and before I left I made another appointment. Chair Massage & More I walk into your room and find that you are working at the computer (probably emailing some lucky guy!) and I can't help but notice how sexy you look in your tank top and shorts... I slide my jacket off silently, then my shirt, socks and shoes...leaving only my boxers on... I slide my hands onto your shoulders and start rubbing the base of your neck... I slide my hands onto your shoulders and start rubbing the base of your neck... just relax, close your eyes...enjoy...sit up a bit straighter, there that's better...how does it feel? I ask as my hands slide in circles at the base of your neck... My hands continue their journey sliding around your neck, sometimes moving out to your shoulders...while they work their magic, let me tell you more about myself... My large and lightly callused hands are moving to a definite rhythm as I stroke your shoulders ... You wonder what I look like (I am 6 feet 2 inches tall, muscular, 195 ponds with light hair, blue eyes large hands and very long legs...) While you can't see the silk boxers I am wearing, you can see the muscles on my calves as they flex with my efforts...My hands travel up into your hair and massage your scalp, caressing your temples, releasing all the tension you have inside...your back slumps slightly as your body yields to my touch...my fingers knead your shoulder muscles and slide out to the tops of your shoulders...under the shoulders of your flannel top... How does this feel now? I ask as my lips brush against your neck as my hands continue to work your shoulders... I slide my fingers under the straps of your tank top as I attempt to get at all your shoulder muscles...Oh god, your neck is so inviting...my lips can't stay away...I softly nuzzle the juncture of your neck and shoulders while my hands move to your arms...stroking down from shoulder to elbow... I am in heaven... Standing over you, I lean forward to see the swell of your chest, rising and falling with every deep relaxed breath... I feel stirrings of my own excitement...my hands flutter briefly as my eyes take in your body...my lips move up to the lobe of your ear as my hands slide down your back to your waist... My fingers touch the hem of your shirt and slide underneath...you arch back against me and moan in anticipation...I lean over your shoulder and I can make out the outline of your nipples, now rock hard as I begin to lift your shirt over your head...Now, with nothing to stop my hands, they begin to trace an intricate pattern over the muscles in your back, hitting all the right spots, you whimper and moan as my lips continue their quest on your neck...My eyes sneak a peak over your shoulder at your chest... I can see your nipples stand tall in the night, straining the fabric of your bra...my heart beats wildly... The almond scent of the lotion fills the room as the warmth from my hands spreads across your back...I want so much more of you but I don't want to spoil the moment...my eyes ...oh the sight of your chest as it rises and falls with your breathing...my gaze is focused on your nipples...I want to touch them, caress them... my hands divert from your back to your shoulders and down... Down to the top of your chest, sliding around and under your breasts – oh my god...I am rock hard...I cant believe how turned on I am and I have barely begun to touch you...I reach up and cup your breast, no I grab your breast strong firm, passionately...your nipples are burning holes in my palms... I need to touch them...more...I slide my fingers under your bra and lift it over your head...Your gorgeous chest swings free and beckons me to touch you... My fingers find your nipples and I roll both between my fingers, as my body slides up behind you...a soft moan ... loader than before escapes your parted lips and while you are focused on my fingers and your nipples, you now feel my hard chest against your back and my engorged cock pushing against your butt... My chest hair is rough against your back and my nipples are hard against you... I need you...more...now...now the moan is from my lips as I spin you around and crush your chest to mine...our lips meet for the first time and the heat of passion is tremendous...incredible... Our tongues entwine and my cock throbs against your pelvis... my chest hairs are rough on your nipples my hands grab, pull and grind your great ass against me...oh...god ...I want you...I pull almost tear your panties off in passion and find you dripping wet...you drop to your knees and free me form the confines of my boxers, my cock is straining the limits of my flesh as its engorged head and veins throb to the beat of my heart... Your lips come within inches of me and your hot breath just reaches my tip as I bend down ... I sweep you off your feet and carry you to the bed where my fingers find the swollen lips of your pussy, I spread them to reveal your clit, hard, at attention, throbbing...you arch your hips to me, My fingers drip with your juices as they roll your clit between them...I can't wait any longer... I slide you to the end of the bed, raise your feet so that they are on my shoulders and place the tip of my cock at your entrance... My mind tells me to slide in slow, but as I gaze down at your body, nipples hard, chest heaving, pussy dripping, I slam into you, temporarily taking your breath away as my entire essence and yours become one...like a piston I continue to pummel you, driving hard with my hips as your hands find my shoulders and squeeze in ecstasy... You can feel my balls slapping against you as your are spread to your limits...a wave of passion is building...My cock slides so hard into you your orgasm hits fast as your hands grab my butt and I deliver one last thrust...Through clenched teeth a mighty moan escapes...and your body shudders as a second wave of orgasm hits... I collapse on top of you, still hard and still inside of you, making small movements with my hips...I kiss and nuzzle your neck...as I give you time to recover... Chairside Manners I quit college in my husband's senior year and began working as a dental assistant in a two person dental office. I was done with my all-girl's school education and rules. All of us in the office still had that high school girl mentality believing that showing off our legs was cool. So we all wore very short dental uniforms. These uniforms reached all of 3 to 4 inches past our buttocks. It took very little for them to reach above our buttocks as well. I wore pantyhose like everyone else, since any stockings would have shown completely below my uniform. My pantyhose was always sheer to the waist, since I never cared for the ones that had the darker color in the form of shorts at the top. After all how are you going to see my panty color if I have a dark shade of hose covering them? I used to love Wednesdays, which were half days, as I would take the bus from work and ride it to my future husband's apartment. Once I got there I would remove my pantyhose and give him all of the peeks of my panties that he could take before getting so worked up that he would attack me in a very pleasant way. I got a lot of deep breathing exercise with him. I made a point of trying to wear bikini panties in the same color as my uniform. So white panties with a white uniform, light blue with light blue, lime green with lime green, etc. Although I would sometimes wear black, red or leopard print panties under my white uniform, since I knew that the darker colors or patterns would show through the white fabric, particularly since my uniforms really hugged my butt. It was fun to tease the two older dentists in the office, although I had no idea at the time how much I was really teasing them. I thought that they were just getting good looks at my legs. Little did I realize that they were seeing a bit more of me than I expected. I worked there for about a year before we got married. One morning, while I was bending over the table at home to pick up my purse and car keys to head off to work, my husband asked me if I bent over like that in the office as well. I said, "Sure! I am always bending over my desk to pick up a patient's file for the dentist or to answer the phone while assisting with a patient. My desk was positioned immediately outside the examining room, so if I needed a file or to answer the phone, I simply walked out of the examining room and bent over my desk to retrieve the file or get the phone. My bottom faced directly into the examining room as well as the dentist's and the patient's view. My husband said that when I bent over that morning he could clearly see the color of my panties under my hose and a good portion of my butt. I felt my face flush as I told him that now I understood why the dentist with specific male patients always asked me to retrieve something from my desk while I was assisting in the examining room. This had been going on for well over a year. Being very young, I thought that the dentist and his male patients whose ages ranged from late thirties to early fifties were all dirty old men, since they had tricked me into exposing myself to them. Instead of feeling angry or embarrassed, I wanted to take control of the situation. Even in a professional office, I didn't see it as a big deal that the dentist and his male patients were catching peeks of my panties. In fact it gave me a little tingle throughout my body to realize that I was flashing every time that I bent over my desk. I almost wished that I wasn't required to wear panty hose with my short uniform. Although the thought of being tricked still upset me. Now most young ladies would have taken the time to walk around the desk before performing any task in order to not flash the dentist and patient, however we have already established that I did not quite fit the common definition of a lady. From that time forward, I made it a point of wearing brightly colored or patterned bikini panties under my uniform. Whenever the dentist asked me to perform a task that required me to bend over my desk, I purposely stayed in a bent position for a much longer time than was necessary, knowing full well that my exposed bottom was facing the dentist and the patient. I would look over my shoulder to tell him that I couldn't find whatever he sent me for, and then place both of my hands upon the desktop to bend further forward in my attempt to find the missing file, or so they thought. After all if they wanted a peek of my panties, than they should get a good long peek of my panties. I always caught them staring at my butt and then they would quickly look elsewhere to pretend that they hadn't been looking. I couldn't help but smile and laugh to myself about the whole situation. I also observed a pattern that indicated a preference for leopard print, black or red panties over my pastels. I had a pair of very teeny red bikini panties that barely covered my bottom and showed very well through my white uniform. I found that I was asked to find lost files much more often on red panty days than on other panty days. I enjoyed choosing which panties to wear on a given day just to see how often I was asked to reach over my desk. Red panty days became my favorite days. It was so much more fun for me to control what they would see as well as for how long and yet have them believe that they were pulling the proverbial wool over my eyes. In a manner of speaking I was pulling the Lycra fabric of my uniform over theirs. I even noticed that the number of male patients that my dentist saw on a regular basis seemed to increase while I worked there. I guess they enjoyed my chair side manner as much as I did.