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By: gypsyred



Gypsy read the note with a small frown.

To my pet:

The masturbation response missed the target, it is not an "or" thing, it is an "and". Just part of the complete offering I expect. Too bad it would make you shy, but then what is a master good for if not to stretch your bounds? It's quite possible I will want a command performance in a public place, say, dinner. 

Master

.......................

Some days later . . . 

I (Master) lean to Gypsy's ear as he sits beside her, and whisper my want. She is immediately red in the face and neck. There are people all around at the restaurant tables! I am not to be put off, I am not just talking to hear myself! “Do what I tell you, and do it now!” 

Gypsy slides the skirt up her thighs, glancing around to see if any one is looking. The rest of the patrons are engrossed in their meals and companions. “No, Gypsy, higher, clear to your waist.” 

She pleads, but this is not a negotiation, it is a command performance. She complies. The folds of the skirt are such that only people directly in front of her can see. She wears no panties, as my desires demand this. Her legs, close together, are tightly held as if by steel bands. My hand slips barely between them and just touches the top of her sex. NO, this will not do! 

“Open those legs so I may reach clear down!” 

“Please, Master, please no.”

“Do you challenge my authority? Are you wanting to go off on your own, if so, then go now and bother me no more. Otherwise do as you are told.”

She remembers the time once before when she refused the request in this very restaurant. As always, I weighed her decline, but I had made up my mind that she would submit. She had still refused, without a word, I rose and she thought I had gone to the bathroom. But I had not. After 20 minutes she asked a waiter to check, but he returned saying that her date had paid the bill and departed long ago. She had rushed back to the hotel, but I had checked out. The airport, but I'd gone on the first plane leaving. It was not flying back to my home, but I had taken it anyway. 

This, she remembered. Her knees open, an inch, two. I reach over from her side and pull her knee toward me, forcing her legs apart further. Now she is exposed to the couple across the floor, but they do not yet notice. My hand slides easily and lightly further down, cupping her cunny in my palm. Despite her protestations, she is sopping wet already. So much so that it soaks across my hand immediately. The mind may say this, or that, but the cunny never lies. 

I slip my two fingers just inside the folds of her lips and begin dragging them upward to her clit. She breathes in small gasps. “Sit still and do not move,” I tell her. 

Again I slide downward to her opening, but this time I enter just a little. Her legs tense, I feel them against the sides of my hand. I look into her eyes, and she relaxes them. I make the glorious trip to and from time after time. She is getting close. I lean to her ear and tell her to look across the table, and she sees the other couple starring. The man is trying to look from the corner of his eye, but the woman is wide-eyed and mouth agape. 

“Gypsy, they have been watching us for some time,” this I whisper to her as my tongue teases the inside of her ear. 

Gypsy turns even redder, but I know it excites her to know they are enthralled with her sexual heat. “Now, Gypsy, you must help me,” I say. She looks at me, her eyes partly closed with the feelings of my wet fingers tracing small circles around her inside lips. “Put your hand down there and open the lips completely so that your clit hood is stretched tightly and forces the little pearl out of its coverlet.” 

She obeys and I move just the tip of one finger to the excited center of her. I begin to quickly flick the tip back and forth over her. Again, again. She is right on the verge. She has stopped breathing, her stomach is tense, her thighs fairly quiver with need. 

“Open your eyes and look at them,” I command. 

They also are caught up in her impending orgasm. She can see it in the way the man stares and the woman is unconsciously squeezing her own nipples and tightly crossing her legs. The three of them await my ministrations. It is time to give my wonderful slave her payment. Faster, faster my finger tip quivers. Her hips strain forward to the pressure seemingly of their own volition. And then it begins, she sucks in a deep breath, her face goes rigid, her hands fist and shake on the tablecloth, her feet lift slightly from the floor as her body arches forward in the rigor of orgasm. The man and his lady are mesmerized, tense, praying for her, and their, release. 

“OOoooohhhh.” escapes her lips. “UUUuuuunggg,” she grasps the tablecloth in her hands and wrinkles it inside a fist uncontrollably trying to keep contact with the Earth. Her hips hunch into my fingers as if it were my cock and she was fucking me now. “AAaaaaaahhhhhhhh.” And she comes down. I stop the frenetic sensations, and slow to smooth stroking. Each time her clit is touched, a shudder comes. 

“Look at them,” I say again. 

Her tightly closed eyes open and they are both red in the face, not from shame but from the blood-pumping intensity of her orgasm. We finish our wine, pay the bill, and leave. On the way past, I pause by the couple, and point out that the ambiance of this restaurant is simply uniquely unbelievable. They are to embarrassed to reply. Gypsy only smiles.

Close



Picture two horny 18-year-old girls in bikinis, looking for guys, at the public swimming pool on a Friday night.

OK, let me guess: You’ve got in mind two skanky little hard-bellies with perfect tits, asses you could bounce quarters of off, and an Avril Lavigne pout. Correct?

I wish.

Jessica and I are the two geeky girls who can’t get laid. What do you think we’re doing at the pool on a Friday night? Hello! If we had lives, would be at the swimming pool with all the older people and the kids?

We could always try to sneak into one of the clubs, but neither one of us can hold our liquor, and besides, our parents would freak.

You see, we’re good girls. Good grades, good manners, good teeth. If we only had good looks…

Not that we’re ugly. 

Hi. My name’s Crystal, by the way. That’s with the accent on the last syllable, like the champagne. How ironic. I’ve got this, like, bitching cool name. Something you expect a model to have. And I look nothing like.

My mom. She gave me the name. My dad liked Allison. I look more like an Allison.

My mom is this hot trophy wife. She’s like 42 years old, and guys still spray their shorts over her, including guys my age.

She married a doctor. You guessed it – a Jewish doctor. Guess who got his nose? The rest of me is pretty good. I’m short, kind of on the thin side. I think I have a pretty good body. And nice hair. It’s long and dark and naturally curly. Then, just to ruin the whole effect, there’s this big honking shnoze. And I have braces. A mouth full of metal and a beak like Barbara Streisand.

Jessica tells me I’m cute. Tells me I’m going to look like that slut on Sex in the City, soon as I get the braces off. Sarah Jessica Parker or whatever.

Jessica says she wishes she looked like me. She feels even uglier than I do. She’s not. I think she’s kind of attractive, in an old-fashioned Rubenesque way.

Now, by that I don’t mean she’s fat. She’s a big girl, true. But not fat.

She’s five foot nine and has huge tits. God, what I wouldn’t do for tits like that. She has this old-fashioned hour-glass shape that guys used to find attractive before fashion models started living on Evian, cigarettes and cocaine. She has nice wide hips – child bearing hips. The kind of body you want to just sink into. Like a couch.

Her face is also nice: nice nose, beautiful smoky grey eyes. But she has acne. She’s very self-conscious about her size and her acne. She’s never been laid. 

I’ve only been laid twice. Given a few handjobs and a couple of blowjobs. But the only guys who want to fuck me lose interest the instant they cum. And the guys I’m interested in don’t want to fuck me. They’re too nice. Too nerdy. But I really like sex. I think about it all the time. I masturbate a lot.

“That guy’s looking at us,” Jessica says, nudging me. I am looking longingly at three young girls with perfect bodies. They’re like 16 and have these great bodies and belly button piercings. One even has this amazing tattoo on here lower back. My parents would kill me if I got a tattoo.

“Where?” I say.

“Don’t look,” Jessica says. But it’s too late. I look right in his eyes. We’re in the hottub, and he’s at the other end, looking right at us, with a greasy smile on his face.

“Jessica. He’s like fucking forty years old,” I whisper to her.

“Think so? I don’t know. He’s not bad looking for his age.’

“Oh my God, we have got to hook you up, girl.”

There are no guys here tonight our age. Just kids and old people.

The old guy gets out of the hottub, and we see how flabby he is. Nice enough face, but he has grey hair on his chest, and handles and faded tattoos. I wonder what that 15 year old girl’s tattoo will look like when she’s 55.

“Let’s go,” I say. 

“Where we going to go?” Jessica asks.

“Let’s go to my house,” I say. “We’ll steal some booze and watch TV.”

In the shower, I see a woman in her mid-thirties with a shaved pussy. Well, not completely shaved. It’s trimmed down to just a tiny little strip. It makes me self-conscious about my own bush.

Let me tell you – it’s a rain forest down there. Major forest fire hazard. I look at Jessica, and admire her big soapy boobs. She has a lot of curves, that girl. 

When we get back home, my mother is already in bed, and my dad is in his den watching TV. I sneak two beers from the fridge and we head downstairs to my room. I have the whole basement to myself, now that my sister has gone off to college. There are two bedrooms, a full bathroom, a pool table, and a widescreen TV.

We sit on the sofa and drink beer, and flip through the satellite channels. We have the Playboy channel, and I stop there a couple of times. The women all have these tiny patches of pubic hair.

“OK, are we like the only women on the planet that don’t shave our pubes?” I ask.

“You don’t shave?”

“You do?” I say, shocked.

“Just along the sides,” Jessica says. You know, for a bikini line.”

“No, I mean shaved. Like that woman at the pool. The one with the little heart-shaped beaver? Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

“I noticed that she had a Caesarean section scar,” Jessica says. “It’s really noticeable when you shave it all off like that.”

“I think it looks kind of nice. And I know guys like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They like them totally bald.”

“Really? Why?”

“How would I know? Do I look like a guy?”

“Yeah. Yeah you do.”

Jessica cracks a smile. 

“Fuck off,” I say, and kick her.

“Ow. That hurt.”

“Look at this,” I say. A Tall, lanky Playboy model is posing for the cameras. She has just a tiny strip of public hair.

“I kind of like that look.”

“Yeah…” Jessica says thoughtfully. “Not that we have boyfriends who would care or anything.”

“I have way too much hair down there,” I say.

“I wonder if it makes it more sensitive,” Jessica says. “For like oral sex and stuff.”

“I’ll bet it does,” I say.

There’s a long pause.

“Let’s do it,” I say.

“Do what?” Jessica giggles, knowing full well what I’m talking about.

“Let’s shave.”

“What, right now?”

“Yeah. We can help each other.”

“Why would we need to help each other?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not so sure I trust myself with a razor down there.”

“I’m not so sure I trust you with a razor down there either!” Jessica says.

“Come on,” I coax her. “Let’s do it. I’m going to do it.”

I get up and go to the bathroom. Jessica follows me. “Get serious.”

I begin taking off my clothes. I have drunk two beers and I’m half drunk. I strip naked and turn on the shower. I get in and let the shower soak my prodigious bush. Then I take some shampoo and rub it in.

“Hand me a razor,” I tell Jessica, who does so.

“You’re crazy,” Jessica says, laughing, a little drunkenly.

I turn off the water and soap my bush up. I start shaving. It’s like peeling a coconut, all that dark hair falling away to reveal a pale, tender mound beneath.

When I first started getting hair down there, when I was 12 or 13, I was excited. But within a couple of years, it was already quite dense. I feel a sense of liberation as the hair comes away to reveal my pubic mound. I turn on the water and let it wash the hair away. It swirls down the drain.

“This part could be tricky,” I say. Most of the mound is clean shaven, but there are still tufts of hair along the outside of my labia and around the tender clitoral hood.

I sit down on the edge of the bathtub, and spread my legs wide. Carefully, I begin trying to shave around the tender parts. “I’m afraid I’m going to cut myself,” I say.

“Why don’t you leave a little bit right here,” she says, pointing to the area just above the folds of my pussy. “Like that woman at the pool tonight.”

“I thought you didn’t notice. No,” I say decidedly. “I want it shaved. Totally. I want a clean Barbie-doll look.”

It is awkward, trying to see myself down there.

“Here, let me,” Jessica finally offers. She kneels down before me, and takes the pink razor in hand. 

She puts her fingers gently on the folds of my pussy, and pulls it slightly to one side, and she gently shaves the hair off from the inside, between the thighs and outside folds of my pussy lips. It feels nice to have her fingers there. I like the feeling of someone else’s touch down there.

Now she pulls my works over to the other side as she shaves the other side. She is very intent, very serious. I burst out laughing.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this!”

Jessica smiles, then starts laughing too. “Don’t make me laugh, I might cut you.”

“Don’t you dare. That things bleeds once a month as it is, I don’t need any more bleeding down there.”

When the sides are shaved smooth, she gently begins to shave off the few tufts of hair that still grow from around my clitoral hood.

Looking down, at my newly revealed pussy, legs spread wide, with Jessica bending down intently towards my crotch begins to make me tingle inside. I can feel the blood slowly begin to fill my labia. I can feel moistness.

Jessica is tidying up my hatchet job. She rubs her fingers along the skin of my pubic mound, testing for missed spots. We are like sisters. We have known each other for years, and so there is no embarrassment in this. It’s like washing each other’s hair. But I am turned on by what she is doing. She is such a good friend. A want to reach down and gently raise her chin and kiss her.

“There,” she says, standing up. “Smooth as a baby’s ass.”

I stand up. I close the bathroom door, which has a full-length mirror on the inside, and study myself.

“Oh my God!” I say. “I’m bald!”

I cross my hands over my crotch, feigning embarrassment. Then I lift them and really study my body.

“I like it,” I say.

“Yeah, it suits you,” Jessica admits. “You were too hairy.”

“So are you,” I say. “Now it’s your turn.”

Jessica blushes. “I don’t know…”

“Come on. God, it feels good,” I rub my hands over my smooth pubic mound. I let my finger touch my magic button, and a shudder goes through me.

“And it looks good.”

“I don’t know…You think?”

“We won’t shave it all off. We’ll just trim it.”

“OK,” she agrees, and takes a sip of beer. Off come her clothes. 

I have seen her body a hundred times. But right now, that voluptuous hourglass form of hers makes me feel warm inside. I want to fold myself into that big warm abundant body of hers.

Jessica gets in the shower, then soaps up. I get in the shower with her, the water turned off, and kneel down in front of her. 

“Spread ‘em,” I order her.

Jessica obliges by standing with her legs apart. She is a tall girl, so her crotch is right at eye level. I begin to gently shave away her dark, silky pubic hair from the sides, shaping it into a narrow strip.

When I have a nice little strip down the centre of her pubic region, I turn on the water and wash the hair away. “Oh my God,” Jessica says, as she sees the hair go down the drain. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

I get her to sit on the edge of the bathtub and do as she did: I kneel in front of her, and finish the more delicate job of shaving on the outside of her pussy lips where they meet her thighs.

She has grown quiet as I do this, and I note that her pussy lips have taken on a deeper pink colour. They begin to pout, like an opening flower, and I can smell a delicate smell of female musk. The smell of my own musk turns me on when I masturbate. I often smell my own fingers, and even taste my own juices. Her smell is turning me on. I am having thoughts I have never had before. I notice her breathing has changed, and she is quiet – more quiet than usual.

“You see,” I say, leaning back to admire my work, like an artist finishing a painting. “You have a beautiful pussy, and it was hiding beneath all that hair.”

Jessica laughs nervously.

“What do you mean, beautiful pussy? Don’t they all look the same?”

“No,” I tell her, seriously. “Haven’t you noticed? It’s like guys’ cocks. Some look really nice, some look ugly. Same with pussies. Yours is nice. It’s cute,” I say.

Impulsively, I kiss it. Just a quick peck at the base of the strip of hair that I have left, just above the cleft where her clitoral hood is.

“Oh!” Jessica says, shocked. Then: “That felt good.”

“Yeah? You like that?”

Then I address my question to her pussy. “Did you like that, you cute little furry thing?”

I kiss it again.

“Hmmm,” Jessica says, and flips her hair. “She likes that.”

“Yes, I can see that,” I say. “Look at you,” I say to her clitoris, which is now becoming tumescent. I touch my fingertip to the little fleshy bud. “Are you coming out to play?”

I kiss it again. Playfully. Then again. Jessica’s breath catches in her throat, and her pelvis lifts slightly, inviting me. I kiss the fleshy hood again. Then, I stick out my tongue. It seems the most natural thing in the world to do. I gently lick her hood. I kiss it again, this time letting it go between my lips, like some sweet berry.

I look up at her. Her mouth is open, and there is a look of desire and hunger in her face that tells me I can do anything I want with her now.

“You like what I’m doing?” I whisper, and begin to kiss and lick the folds of her pussy.

She nods her head. She puts her hand on my cheek, then as I bury my face in her crotch her head rolls back and she lifts her pussy to me. She is all mine.

I gently part the folds of her labia with my tongue. Tentatively, I push my tongue inside, and she moans. I am surprised by the taste and the smell and wetness there. Her juice is thick and salty and rich. I push my tongue in as far as it can go. It meets no resistance. She may be a virgin, but she has no hymen.

I stand up and take her by the hand.

“Let’s go in the bedroom,” I tell her.

We fall into bed, into each other’s arms. I fold myself into her body. I kiss her neck, her cheek, finally, I find her mouth open and waiting for me. We kiss, and she lets my tongue into her mouth.

I know she can smell and taste her own pussy in my kiss. I take her lovely large breasts in my hands and massage them. I have wanted to feel them for so long. I take a large, stiff pink nipple into my mouth and suck on it. My hand moves down between her legs. Her pussy is hot and slick with juices.

“God, you’re on fire down there,” I say. I insert a finger inside, and am delighted by the way her hot cunt hungrily pulls at it. Her pussy is very tight.

“What about you?” She whispers.

“Later,” I say. “Just enjoy.”

I go down on her. Hungrily I eat her pussy, as though it were something I always wanted to do. To be honest, it’s not something I had thought about much. But it seems so right, so natural. And I love the taste and the smell.

I suck and lick her pussy, which has grown red and swollen. I insert a finger and she humps my finger while I tickle her clitoris with my tongue. I have fantasized so often about what I’d like a guy to do to me down there, so I do it to her. It does not take long before her fingers tighten on the bedspread and her back arches. Her legs come together, nearly crushing me, and a spasm contorts her body, like she is being electrocuted.

“Oh fuck,” she says.

Jessica never swears.

I continue to lick her and soon she is shuddering with a second orgasm.

“Oh. Oh. Oh,” she says in short pants. “What are you doing to me? Jesus.”

I put my tongue inside and get a mouthful of pussy juice. My face is soaked with her musky cunt nectar.

“Come here,” she says, and pulls me up to her. She holds me tightly to her as her convulsions begin to subside.

I rest my head between her breasts. After what seems a long time, she relaxes.

“That was awesome,” she says.

“You’re not weirded out by it?”

“I’ve fanatasized about it,” she says.

“Seriously? I haven’t. It just seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Oh it was, my little friend, it was,” she says.

She rolls me over, on my back. She bends her head down and kisses me on the neck. She smothers me with kisses, on my neck, on my tits, sucking my nipples, then she is moving south, kissing my stomach, my thighs, my pubic mound.

I feel her tongue on my cleanly shaven mound, so sensitive now, and a warmth flows through my body, like sinking into a warm bath. There is no guilt, no reservations. Nothing that feels this good can be bad, I tell myself.

“Oh God, eat me,” I say. “Eat my cunt, Jess.”

Her lips are on my clitoris, her fingers inside me, her tongue bathing my entire pussy in warm wetness. My hands hold her hair, and I look down to watch her as she devours my pussy. It is such a turnon to watch her tongue in and out of me. She is making loud delicious sucking and licking sounds, and we are both moaning. I am moaning with pleasure, and she is making thrilling yummy sounds – a wonderful “mmm” sound that vibrates through my clitoris.

I am moaning, my back is arching, I am coming, a flood of juice spilling from my cunt into Jessica’s mouth.

In a final convulsion, my legs close tightly on her head and my back arches. A jolt of pleasure rips through me.

“Fuck!” I scream, and then try to stifle my cries, lest my father come running downstairs to see what is happening.

I pull Jessica to me. Her face is red and bathed in pussy juice. Her eyes are full of lust. It’s look I have never seen before. She hovers over me, then lays down beside me. Her leg goes between my hot wet thighs, and we hold each other tight, as my orgasm subsides.

I have known Jessica since we were kids. Why, I wonder, has it taken us so long to do this?



Close



"Before, I almost used to think there was something wrong. Everybody else seemed have the brakes on...I never feel the brakes. I overflow. And when I feel your excitement about life flaring, next to mine, then it makes me dizzy."

Letter from Anais Nin to Henry Miller, March 26, 1932

They sat in front of the fire, first time alone, probably ever, in a house anyway. Not an office or a car.

Someplace comfortable. 

He sat a bit of a distance away from her. She was lying on the floor leaning on her elbow. They were talking and having some drinks. 

It was really cold outside, and the fire was nice.

She stared at him when he wasn't looking and went over in her head how she could ask if she could sit nearer to him. Or ask if she could touch him. She figured it would probably take a little longer. And a few more drinks.

Because really, most of the time she was near him, she was literally aching to touch him. And that wasn't hyperbole. She really felt some kind of pull that hurt to resist. She was a touchy person. And her nature was to touch people she cared about. Was there a sexual attraction? Hell yeah. But really, the touching thing wasn't about that. Not entirely.

And not only did she ache to touch him. She wanted him to touch her. But it just wouldn't happen. He wasn't that way. And she was aware of the psychological effect that would have – making her want it more. But analysis aside, it didn't change that she wanted it. Bad.

"Did you ever read the book 'Henry and June?'" she asked him.

"No," he said.

"It's from the journals of Anais Nin in like the 30's or 40's I think. And she was good friends and sleeping with Henry Miller at the time. And also friends with his wife who was apparently extremely trusting or never around or didn't care," she said.

"But in the journals, she really details all they did together. She seems to have been able to master the art of writing erotica and still have it be considered literature. I should pay closer attention," she said, and he laughed.

"The point I'm making is she also includes letters between her and Henry. And probably because they are so real, and so graphic, and so honest, I just think they are beautiful," she said.

"I mean Henry Miller did not mince words when it came to sex. Some of it was really filthy, but I think because it was so real, it really made an impact on me beyond that," she said.

"And as it takes me forever to get to a point, sometimes I think of these stories I write for you like that. Not that I'm remotely comparing myself to these two celebrated writers. But I feel like love letters or really letters of any kind have gone by the wayside. And these stories I write for you, they are in some ways the only way I can write you letters, without actually writing you letters. I can write about how I feel and the things I think about when it comes to you. And yes, sexually, all the things I want to do with you and to you that I can't. Unlike Henry and Anais, I'm too scared to use the "I" and the "you" for the most part, and stick with the "she" and the "he." Too scared to own all that. But I like the thought that these are my letters to you, like those in that book," she said.

"You should really read it sometime. I mean, you might hate it, but it is pretty intense," she said.

He wasn't really saying anything. She wondered if she should have said all of that. Most of the time with him she was feeling around in the dark, never knowing if the next step was going to be out the door with no stairs and she'd be falling on her face.  

"Was that bad to say?" she said, after he left her hanging in silence a bit more. He was just staring into the fire.

"Of course not. I'm just thinking about it," he said.

"Can I ask you something?" she said.

"Yes," he said.

"Can I sit closer to you? I understand if you don't want me to," she asked.

"Of course you can. Look, it is dark out. And I've had some drinks, I can touch you now," he said, smiling.

Now she was scared to. She really needed to get a grip.

"Come over here," he said now, and reached out his hand.

So taking his hand, she kind of crawled over and sat closer to him, still not touching him. 

"I thought you were going to come closer?" he asked.

"I'm scared to," she said.

"Come on," he said.

So she got a little closer, sitting right next to him, side by side. 

"There, that's not so bad, right?" he said.

It was hard for her to sit like that, still afraid to touch him but being so close. The frustration was in her throat, choking her a little, and to her embarrassment, her eyes filled with tears over it for a second. Of all things. If that didn't send him running away nothing would.

"Hey, what's wrong," he said.

"Nothing, I...it is just hard for me to be this close to you and not touch you. And I feel it all the time so I think maybe sitting this close to you and not being able to touch you is too much for me. I'll move away," she said.

He stopped her by touching her elbow.

"Don't," he said.

"You can touch me if you want.".

"Really? You don't mind?" she said.

"Unless you're planning on punching me in the face, no I don't mind," he said.

She laughed a little then.

"Seriously, knock yourself out," he said.

She thought about it for a minute. Took a deep breath. Still was scared, but she moved behind him.

"Where are you going?" he said.

"I can't look at you. Not at first anyway," she said.

She sat closely behind him, on her knees. Slowly, barely touching him, almost as if she was afraid she'd be burned, she put her hands on his shoulders and closed her eyes for a second.

She ran her hands from his shoulders and down his arms slightly, then back up and squeezed his shoulders a little. He closed his eyes now, just for a minute. It felt good.

Bracing herself on his shoulders, she lowered herself to the floor off her knees and her legs were around him, they were back to front, with her chest against his back.

She moved her hands, her fingers, to his neck, to his hair, feeling his skin, gently, so gently, trying to contain herself with the feelings running through her. Touching him, finally touching him.

Her hands ran down his back, under his arms now, pulling herself tighter against him now, touching his chest, leaning her cheek against the back of his neck and hugging him to her. His body felt relaxed to hers. She was still afraid to see his face though.

Then she felt his hands on hers, on his chest, pulling her to him tighter. She felt warm against his back, and he leaned against her, taking one hand and touching her knee as her leg ran along his, and ran under her knee, squeezing it gently. He could feel her breasts against his back.

She was so blissfully happy leaning against his back, and she lifted her face so close to his neck and without thinking gently moved her lips over the back of his neck. His eyes closed again involuntarily. That definitely kicked the soft warmth of their closeness up to another level.

She was aware she probably wasn't thinking straight but she really didn't want to snap out of the hypnosis she was under, touching him. Still with her arms around his chest, she moved her lips, not actually kissing him...yet, just barely breathing over the back of his neck, breathing only him. She felt him lean his head back a little, leaning into her mouth, seeming to want more of it.

So then she did gently kiss the back of his neck, and took one of her hands from his chest and bravely now, touched his cheek, softly, his chin...his mouth, tracing the back of his neck with her lips. Her other hand still held onto his chest, keeping her tightly to him, and his hands were under both her knees now, holding her to him tightly as well. She could feel his hands react to the touch of her mouth on his neck, squeezing a little more each time she kissed him.

As she touched his face, he leaned back more, so her lips moved up to his ear now, breathing into it, teasing him a little, kissing him more, over his ear now, to his face, and she could see his eyes were closed, and she was getting close...dangerously close.. to his mouth with hers.

And just as she was deciding to pull back, he softly turned his head in what seemed like the most natural of progression and she was kissing his mouth.

She didn't have time to think about it or be nervous about it or weigh the rights and wrongs of the it. Because it was what was supposed to happen next. And she kissed his mouth, gently, no tongues, just softly kissed his lips. And it felt so good. But then she got scared.

And pulled her mouth away, but not far. 

He opened his eyes now, and she was so close to his face, and he reached up, and pulled her around him and into his lap. And now she was shaking a little. And wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him to her, her face buried in his shoulder, in his neck. His arms around her, his hands on her back. 

And it felt so good to her to just lose herself in that feeling, being surrounded by him, held by him, more than hugged, really held.

With his hand in her hair now, she felt other things move within her, thinking about her mouth on his, and still scared, she kissed his neck where she had hid her face from him. She couldn't help it, her mouth so close to his skin. And his hand tightened a little bit in her hair as her mouth moved up, up to his face and he turned to her again, and this time, he kissed her.

And this time, she didn't want to pull away. Her fingers were at the back of his neck, in his hair, and he kissed her softly, gently, but then a little harder now, and she kept up with him, opening his mouth now with her tongue and her body moving in his lap, moving up to his mouth, wanting more of it. His fingers held her face and he kissed her harder, harder. And her body pressed against his chest. 

She'd thought about this so many times but nothing prepared her for how good it felt to really kiss him, have him kiss her, feel his tongue move with hers, and it got hotter, and hotter and she got scared again but couldn't stop. She knew he couldn't either.

And he kissed her, and it was so good, better than he thought it would be, feeling her tense up with it, feeling her pushing against his body. He wanted more. He kissed her harder, wetter, hotter, and it was getting faster, and now, now his hand moved down her body, over her shirt, and he felt her fingers at his react to his touch by digging into his skin.

Which only served to prod him to touch her more, running his hand over her shirt, over her breast, to the end of her shirt, and he was scared too, but still, her tongue moved in his mouth, hot and hungry against his, and he had to, had to run his hand under her shirt, just up the side of her body, slowly, waiting to see what she would do. 

She froze a little but his hand felt warm and strong there, and she could not stop it. She could not pull away from it, and it didn't go where she thought it would, and really at that point she would let him go anywhere, anywhere.

But he ran his hand over her skin to her back, stroked the naked skin of her back, felt her pushing against, felt her back moving, tensing, and really he could not stop his hand from running back to her front and felt her breath catch in his mouth as he traced the outline of the front of her bra, and felt her giving into his hand, his fingers, wanting it.

He was not sure they were ready for this. Or should do it, But he had to. There was nothing else that he could do. 

And she was beyond saying no to anything. Really she never said no to him. Ever. And this, this was not where she was going to start, because she wanted his hands on her. All over her, everywhere, and her body wasn't going to let him stop.

And still he hesitated. Just barely, almost.

"Touch me," she sighed, whispered into his mouth, and that was it He took over her mouth again, more, harder, kissing her, working her tongue with his, and it was getting really hot, so hot between them, the tension was almost unbearable but so good, so very good, and now with the kiss at a new height, faster, harder, hotter, he reached behind her again and unhooked her bra and he touched her then.

Her reaction did not disappoint as she arched her back, giving into his hand, pushing into it, his fingers tracing her breast down to the nipple, feeling it respond immediately to his fingers and that was so hot to feel how hard it got and hear her sigh so loudly and kiss him harder, her fingers digging into his back now, and he wanted more, and things got faster, and he no longer hesitated.

He pushed her shirt roughly up and out of the way now, and pulling his mouth away from hers as she sat across his lap he lifted her under her back to him and took that hard nipple into his mouth, and harder her fingers dug into his neck, his back, pulling him to her breast, sighing, gasping to his tongue and his mouth working around her nipple, first one, then the other.

And she, she had lost all trace of reasonable thought and her mind just ran a steady stream of wanting more, more, so good, yes and more.

He pulled her shirt over her head now, out of the way and she unbuttoned his and sat in his lap, straddling his lap now and kissed his mouth again as his hands stroked her breasts and teased her nipples with his fingers. This drove her to the point of near insanity and she pushed his back down onto the rug. 

With him lying on his back, she stood up in front of him by the fire and pulled the rest of her clothes off so that she was naked before him, something she would normally be terrified to even consider, but now...now she wanted to be. Needed to be.

And he looked at her and smiled. There was nothing to think about now but her. She got back down to the floor and pulled the rest of his clothes off and crawled over his body, kissing him again, kissing his chest, and he felt her body against him and closed his eyes. She kissed his face again and pushed herself against him, and he could feel how wet she was. 

She moved against him then and almost without both of them realizing what was happening, she moved up, over him, and he was inside her, and she gasped ...and his eyes opened ..looking at her...slightly in shock ...but more than that.

There were a few beats of silence as she searched his eyes - it seemed she was waiting for his okay..any sign it was all right...to move.

And still staring into her eyes, still on his back, his hands moved to her hips, over him, deep inside her, and grabbed them, hard, tightly. She knew then. And she moved. 

Slowly, over him, she felt how hard he was inside her, and it was almost too much for her, too much to control how it felt, but then, she started to rock slightly, felt his hands tighten even more on her hips. She looked at the ceiling, biting her lip, and started to move up and down more, trying to stay slow, but it was hard, so hard, because she felt it rumbling inside her and knew..and his hands stroked and held her hips, and he watched her intently, feeling so hot and deep inside her, watching her body, looking really beautiful by the firelight, and he saw her face, and held on.

And still she tried to not go too fast, but it was getting harder, and he could see her fighting it, and didn't want her to.

"Go," he whispered, "go," and then she did, faster she moved on him, and it was really fucking unbelievable to feel it and watch her and it was really so good to feel her that wet and hot and up and down on him, faster she went and now she couldn't stop, and her hands went to her hair and pulled and her head went back and a shudder went through her and he felt it all the way through her, inside and out, still holding tightly to her hips, and now he sat up with her still grinding into his lap, pulled her to him, kissing her now, her mouth down on his, feeling her body, her hands on his shoulders, bracing herself and pushing herself up and down, riding him harder, and faster.

And with his mouth, with his tongue, he urged her on, it was so good and the faster she went the deeper their tongues were in each others mouths and her fingers dug into his shoulders now, drawing on his strength, and he pulled his mouth from hers and found her nipple with his tongue and sent her into a series of convulsive orgasms that were beyond erotic to watch, feel, hear and he was ready, so ready, especially as his mouth worked her nipple it made her movements faster, harder, faster, harder, rocking on him, wrapping herself tightly to him and then finally he came, his own fingers burning into her back and she felt it and did too. They wrapped tightly around each other still, together, unwilling yet to separate anywhere. 

They were so close. So close. 

And with her eyes closed and feeling him against and inside her, she knew from now on, all she wrote would be so much more real and true and finally that beautiful. Because now she knew. Knew what it was to be this close. And she did not ever want to let go.

"Anais, I don't know how to tell you what I feel. I live in perpetual expectancy. You come and the time slips away in a dream. It is only when you go that I realize completely your presence. And then it is too late. You numb me...


I don't know what to expect of you, but it is something in the way of a miracle. I am going to demand everything of you - even the impossible, because you encourage it. You are really strong. I even like your deceit, your treachery. It seems aristocratic to me."

Letter from Henry Miller to Anais Nin – March 21, 1932



Close Call



His name was Danny. He was 19 and I was only 18. We had gone to the same school but never actually talked to one another while in school. The first time we talked was weeks after I found him on Myspace. He was back from college for his summer break and I was going into my senior year of High School. Danny wasn't a very out person, his friends knew but that was it. No one really knew that he was gay until after they graduated from high school and he came out. 

One day when I was spending the night at my Dad's house, Danny and I were texting to see what one another were doing. I invited him over to watch a movie with me and I had asked permission from my father for him to come by. When he finally arrived everyone in my Dad's house was asleep. He came in and we went to the back room of my Dad's house to talk. He had filled me in about how school was going and I told him about how I couldn't wait to just get senior year started and over with. After I knew the house was completely asleep we moved to the living room to watch some TV. 

At first we both were a little shy but eventually we had made ourselves comfortable on my father's couch. He held me in his arms as I laid on his lap. I could feel every breath he took, which made me very relaxed. We flipped through the channels on the television to see what was on and had agreed on watching the ending of Legally Blonde. 

After about five minutes we had slowly slunk down on the couch to make ourselves even more comfortable. I was cold so I took and old blanket my Dad had on the back of the couch and covered us to keep us warm. I was wrapped in his warm sweaty arms when I finally looked over my shoulder and kiss him. I slowly turned around to face him as our lips met. I reached for his face and gently felt his skin with my fingertips. I slid my tongue passed his lips as we started to make out. I could feel his tongue search my mouth as if he was trying to learn every inch it. As we made out, my wondering hands had found their way to his pants. With using only my one hand I slowly felt him. Grasping him in my hand, I could feel it pulsing with heat. I undid his pants and found my way into his boxers. I grasped all 9 inches of his throbbing cock in my hand. 

At this time we had stopped, kissing and I asked him one simple question, "What Now?" With out missing a beat he responded that he wanted to go back to the back room where I could suck him off. I had agreed because I wanted nothing more to have him in me, in any way possible. I long for it and he knew I wanted it.

He pulled up his pants and only buckled the pants. While he was getting ready to move I had gone to my father's door to see if I could hear him snoring. "Yes, He's asleep!" I thought to myself. I told him to follow me and we made the short journey to the back room. I had leaned him against the table that was there and kissed him. AS I slid my tongue pass his lips, once again, I start to undo his pants. I then gave him one final kiss and head south. I got on my knees and took the throbbing piece of meat in my hand. I licked the around the head of his dick and then took it in my mouth, where is tongue once laid was now his huge cock. 

I worked his cock into my mouth and moved my head in an up and down motion, I took a few breaks in between, to catch my breath, but I didn't stop doing my job. I worked on his dick for about an hour when finally I felt him tense up and loose his balance against the table. I felt it hit the roof of my mouth. Slowly my mouth filled up. I don't normally swallow but in this case I had to. So with one gulp it was gone. He was filled with sweat and glimmering in the little light that was on. He was gorgeous. I stood up and gave him a kiss and in that instant my father's door swung open. My heart dropped to my knees as Danny quickly pulled his pants up. Just as he did I looked to see that it wasn't my Dad my actually his girlfriend. 

I was glad to see her because even if she caught us, she would keep it a secret between us. Just as my dad's girlfriend went outside to smoke, Danny and me rushed back over to the couch and got back into the positions we were in before all this exciting night began. He sat at one end of the couch still trying to catch his breath and I was at the other end, with a smirk on my face. Nancy came back into the house a little confused to see us back on the couch but without any questions she ventured back into her room for the night. 

I gave Danny a good night kiss and told him he should head out. He gathered his stuff and I followed him to the door. He turned to me and said that he had a lot of fun and that we should get together again soon. He gave me a kiss, which once again turned into another game of tonsil hockey, but I headed it early knowing that he should go before we get in any trouble. That was the last time me and Danny ever hung out, but I do wish that I could have him back some time soon



Close Call



My girlfriend, Becca, and I love to play it close when it comes to having sex. We love the rush of the risk, the chance that we might get caught. This one time, however, had to be one of the craziest times. I was 19 years old and she was 18. We headed up with her parents to their house in Vermont. One night, her mom crashed early and it was she, her dad and I. Now Becca loves to fool around, the person who initiates is about 50/50 between her and me. We put on a movie and it was Becca sitting between my legs the long way on the couch and her dad on a single chair. Half way through the movie, we looked over and her dad was snoring, passed out. Becca and I learned that her dad is a very heavy sleeper. We have managed to sneak in and out of the house, at all hours of the night and make all sorts of racquet having drunk sex when we don't care about the noises. 

When I heard the snoring, I knew he was out like a rock and I started to kiss on Beccas' neck. She loved that, and I heard her smile as she leaned back and tilted her head to give me a better angle. She knew that her dad being out, and the risk of him waking up at any moment was too big a turn on for her to even try and stop me. I brought my hands to her boobs over her shirts to realize she wasn't wearing a bra. Her D cup breasts were there for me to play with and she didn't mind. I squeezed and pinched her nipples through the shirt and low moans started to escape her mouth. I whispered in her ear to be quiet. She turned her head and kissed me. 

I moved my hands under her shirt and down her little booty shorts that she was wearing to go to bed that night and yet another pleasant surprise, she wasn't wearing any underwear. 

"No bro and no underwear, its like you wanted me to fuck you tonight." I whispered in her ear.

"You know me all too well baby." She said back to me. 

With that I needed no further instruction. I slipped a finger into her wet pussy in order to loosen her up a little bit. She always had a tight pussy ever since we first messed around. It would wrap around my dick when we fucked. She was gushing now, we would look over at her dad who would snore and stir, but not enough to get us to stop. 

"Fuck, babe I'm going to cum, don't stop." She moaned. I pulled my finger out and started rubbing her clit as fast as I could and I had to cover her mouth with my other hand as her first orgasm of the night erupted and sent her body into a full spasm and she almost yelled. 

With the blanket still over us, we heard her dad talk.

"How's the movie so far? I must have dozed off." He said.

"O the movies great daddy, really exciting." She said. She positioned herself enough to pull my dick out of the pajamas I was wearing, luckily, I didn't wear underwear either, giving her one less layer to battle. I cock was semi erect at about 6 inches now and she started to stroke my cock under the blankets. 

"That's great honey, I am glad you two are enjoying it." He dozed off again in a minute.

"You are such a tease Becca." I said, my cock now a raging 8 inches, rock hard. 

"Well he is asleep again, lets see if I can take care of you big boy." As she said that, her head slid under the blankets and I suddenly felt her mouth wrap around the tip of my cock. She was pumping and sucking and it was a turn on with her dad a chair over, sleeping. She was making loud slurping sounds, so I pulled the blankets away to tell her to shut it, but when I did that, she made eye contact with me and took all 8 inches down her throat. 

"Fuck," was all I could say. She pulled her head off my cock and coughed a little. She sat with her back to me; the blankets completely off of us now, and her pants were off too. She started to rub her bare ass on my cock and it was driving me crazy. 

"You going to fuck me now baby?" She asked me.

Her dad was right there, I knew for a fact she wasn't going to be able to keep quiet, but I was thinking with my cock not my brain. I pulled her up so that her back was still on my chest, but her pussy was rubbing on my rock hard cock. We heard her dad snore again and knew that he was out cold. Nothing would wake him. I grabbed my cock, rubbed her pussy a little bit and then slid slowly inside her, letting her get used to my girth. A little squeal left her mouth as I slid all 8 inches of my cock inside of her. I started to pump faster and fasters. I even pulled her shirt up to expose her tits to hear them flap as I fuck her harder and harder. She was moaning and trying to keep quiet by biting her lower lip but it wasn't helping. She then stopped and said, "I have an idea." She had a sly smile; the look that I have come to learn was a "I have a stupid plan" kind of look. She got up and went over to a little foot rest that was being unused at the foot of her fathers chair, and she bent over hit, with her ass in the air and her pussy exposed to me. She gave it a little wave and spread her ass open with her hands. I almost jumped out of the couch, and walked up behind Becca. I gave her ass a light tap with my cock before sliding it into her wet pussy again. I was now fucking this mans daughter, doggy style over a footrest right in front of him. He snored a little and moved around in his chair. We froze.

We didn't expect him to wake up, but with my dick buried deep inside his daughter, I didn't know what to do. After about 30 seconds I started pumping again. Harder and harder and I knew I was close. She knew too, and she and I knew what was going to happen. She turned around and dropped to her knees and took my cock in her mouth and start sucking and stroking furiously. I started to moan and we made eye contact as I started to spurt ropes of cum into her mouth and deep down her throat. After she had sucked it all up, I pulled my dick out of her mouth and watched her gargle my cum and push it up to her lips before swallowing. When we got our close on and sat on the couch again, the movie was over. Becca was still wiping cum from her lips when we got up and she went and gave her dad a kiss on the corner of her lips. 

"Daddy the movie is over. You missed he giant ending." She said with a giggle.

"Its okay," he said licking his lips which now had a little bit of cum from her lips and my dick on them. "Ill have to check it out tomorrow." He said with a confused look. 

"Well maybe we will watch it again with you." Beccas winked at me.

"That's a plan girly," he said, "is that some new lip gloss? It tastes really good." 

Becca and I laughed the rest of the night, until we fell asleep. Looks like the only one left to taste my cum was her mom.



Close Colleagues



"Are you going down to the pool after tea?"

Marisa smiled. "After dinner, you mean? My god, I need to! Did you see how much there was to eat at lunchtime?" She put both hands around her waist. squeezed and frowned. "I'll need a whole new wardrobe by the end of the week."

We were both stuck in the middle of an interminable residential training course, in a classroom full of our colleagues from around the country, and had until about five minutes ago been practising our advocacy skills on each other.

Different companies take different approaches to these things. I've got friends who get put up in incredible hotels across Europe and have to put up with a nominal amount of "training" in exchange for a free hand with the company credit card and a gentle shove in the direction of the nearest strip club.

Our own firm had chosen instead to maroon 60 of us in a charmless maximum security compound somewhere in the midlands, twenty miles from the nearest large city. We were sharing the place with ashen faced delegates from a high street fashion retailer and a couple of major banks, all of whom looked like they were wondering what they'd done to deserve this. It was an excruciating waste of the first week of warm weather we'd had that year. It was also making me unbelievably horny.

I snuck a glance at Marisa. She worked in the London office, and she was wearing a beautifully cut wool suit, with a skirt that was a little below the knee. The double breasted jacket was cut short, emphasising the curves of her hips and bum, the lapels framing her full breasts. Her blond hair was cut short, pixie style, and textured, so that I could imagine ruffling it with my hand. Her blue eyes were playful, and had been gazing at me for most of the afternoon.

My concentration had gone at about two pm, when one of her shoes had brushed my leg under the table. I was so sensitised that I could feel the exact curve of the shiny patent leather and the hard spike of the heel. I'd spent the last three hours imagining sliding my hand up her warm thigh, caught between the sheer nylon of her stockings and the silky lining of her skirt. Would she be wearing stockings? I watched her breasts rise and fall against the tailored pink blouse. Absolutely, I decided. 

Through all this, she had been professionally and cleverly defending her client in the mock dispute resolution scenario we had, and I had been fencing with her equally well, both of us polite, giving a little when needed but pressing for the points that really mattered. Which was how we got to meeting each other at the pool, after tea.

"So I'll see you down there then? About 8?" she said.

"For sure. We might actually be able to get a look in on the jacuzzi."

Marisa giggled. The jacuzzi had been occupied on rotating shifts by the teak tanned Jackie Collins lookalikes that made up the membership of the hotel health club, and the sweating bulk of John Colshaw, a rubbery lipped tax genius from the same office as me.

Having read this far, you might guess that I spent the next few hours imagining Marisa dripping wet, every curve of her body displayed in her brief swimsuit, stepping slowly into a frothing jacuzzi. And you'd be right. Eventually I went straight down to the empty pool after tea and hammered up and down, trying to work enough of a sweat to at least feel like I'd be able to hold a conversation with her. The clock on the wall slipped past eight while I was doing this. Eventually, I hauled myself, my throbbing dick and the gallon of underused sex hormones powering my massive hard on, out of the pool and into the boiling hot jacuzzi. I hit the button and bubbles frothed all over the place. I was just closing my eyes and wondering why she'd changed her mind – boyfriend, perhaps? - when I heard the door to the pool open.

"Hi!" Marisa called. "I'll be up in a minute – just let me get my thirty lengths in."

I couldn't take my eyes off her. Her swimsuit was pretty modest really; dark grey lycra to her tummy, then a band of mid grey to beneath her breasts, then white wrapping her breasts and for the halter. It was scalloped above her hips, so I could see the fair skin of her flanks. But it held every curve of her athletic body as she stalked across the tiles, lined up on the diving board and jumped cleanly in.

In no time at all, she was towelling her short hair dry and walking across to the jacuzzi, water streaming down her. I watched as the water in the tub fold around her graceful calves and her ripe arse, over her body until it lapped at the U shaped neckline of her swimsuit and the curves of her tits beneath.

Marisa sighed happily. "Right – gimme bubbles!" she said. 

"OK. Hang on to your... well, just hang on." I hit the switch and the water frothed around us.

"Woah!" she cried. "I can see why those old ladies spend so much time in here!"

She slipped both legs across my lap, holding them demurely together but rubbing her smooth, smooth skin gently back and forth.

"D'you mind? It's smaller in here than it looks..." she said. She half closed her eyes, letting me run my eyes over her from her toes to her cute button nose, looking at the bubbles coiling around her body, caressing and stimulating her. She gave a long contented sigh.

"That working for you?" I asked, smiling.

"It's lovely, but it does have its problems. If I sit the wrong way, it can get me a bit...excited." she murmured.

My head was buzzing, my mind almost stalled by the level of my desire for her. My fingertips tingled as I imagined the feel of her warm, yielding body. 

"Five thirty on a Friday excited?"

"No," sighed Marisa, gently rubbing her bum closer to my lap. "The other kind..."

Under the water, I cupped her buttock with my hand, feeling the difference between her bare skin and the slightly rough, clingy lycra.

"Oh I see. That's not really an issue for boys," I said, trying to ignore the pulsing throb in my dick and how close she was to touching it. "What would be the wrong way to sit exactly? So we can... avoid it."

Marisa rolled onto her belly, floating herself in the hot bubbling water, one dainty foot on the wall of the jacuzzi on each side of me. 

"Mmmm..." she sighed, "this is the one." I could imagine the bubbles tickling the sensitive skin between her thighs, streaming over her open cunt and bursting against the tight lycra sheathing her tits. Her ripe, pulpy bum bobbed out of the water, her slim waist still beneath the boiling surface. Gripping the chrome rail at the side of the jacuzzi, she rocked gently backwards and forwards.

She looked at me over her shoulder. My cock was on fire, desperate to feel her slick heat wrapped around it.

"Yes, you can." she said. 

"Hmm?" I said, gently stroking the tender skin on the back of her thighs. She wanted my cock deep inside her, my belly slapping against her beautiful arse as I fucked her hard. But I just had enough self control to make her ask for it. I trailed my fingers up the inside of her thigh, lifting the lycra of her swimsuit away from her gaping pussy so she could feel the rising bubbles in the water rushing over her bare skin. Marisa gave a long sigh, wiggling her bottom and rubbing my hand between her thighs.

"Yes... you can fuck me from behind..." she murmured. 

I pushed my own legs forward, forcing Marisa's a little further apart. She moaned appreciatively, sinking a little closer to my dick. I laid one hand on each of her hips, admiring her slim waist and her round, peachy backside.

Marisa pushed back hard, her slick lycra wrapped body slipping between my hands as she neatly caught my cock between her buttocks, rubbing against me.

"Mmmmm that's what I need. You're going to slide all of that inside me so that I can come." she sighed, rubbing her arse against me in little circles.

I could see stars. Holding on to her hips, I guided her, slowing her down to that her perfect bum was describing the tiniest circle against the sweet spot on the shaft of my dick.

"I'm going to have to lube you up..." sighed Marisa, thrusting back more strongly with her thighs. "Rub that naughty cock of yours all over with my hands...would you like that?"

My self control had left the room a long time ago. Desperate to come, I let go of her, shoving my cock down and forward, between the soft, smooth skin of her thighs. With my other hand I lifted her swim suit away from her skin, exposing her cunt. 

Marisa knew what was coming. She gave a long, high sigh that urged me on. I jerked forward, making her squeeze her thighs around the shaft of my cock.

"So naughty..." she moaned, her eyes closed. "What if I decide to keep you just there?" 

She rocked gently backwards and forwards, each movement of he hips bringing me a millimetre closer to her wet, slick hole. Her breathing was throaty and ragged now. Neither of us could last much longer.

The bulging head if my cock touched her. I slid forward, not aware of anything apart from the delicious feeling of her lips sealing against my dick and then gradually parting as I pushed further into her. The water around us was hot, but she was so much hotter. I could feel her juices slickly coating us as we moved closer together.

"Give it to me all at once." she said, looking back over her bare shoulder again. I squeezed her hips a little tighter, ready for the thrust - 

and the door to the pool room squeaked as someone worked the handle.

"Oh sheeit!" hissed Marisa, jumping off my lap. She turned and sat herself down quickly next to me, as prim as you like, only her flushed cheeks and matted hair suggesting she might have been anything other than an angel.

Big, chubby John Colshaw walked in, all set to unwittingly spoil mine and Marisa's attempts to build inter-office relationships. 

"Oh hi guys." said John. "Just thought I'd pop down for a quick dip. Got to keep in shape on these things, haven't you?" 

Under the water, I felt Marisa's slim hand pull the waistband of my shorts open, reach inside and close warmly around my cock.

"Going to do many lengths John?" I asked, thrusting upwards a little. Marisa squeezed harder, locked he blue eyes on mine and mouthed "NO TALKING!"

"A fair few I think." Said John, dolefully. "Right, here we go-" and he dived in.

"Sauna!" whispered Marisa laughing at me.

"What?"

"Sauna NOW, or you'll have some explaining to do..." she said, slipping her other hand around my cock and jerking down a little more forcefully. I half closed my eyes, and then forced myself to stand up. Holding hands the two of us did a Tom and Jerry style run on tiptoes across the tiled floor to the wooden door to the sauna, while John was busily steaming slowly up the pool on his first length.

Marisa grabbed her towel on the way and banged the door shut. She stepped back against it, her breasts heaving up and down inside their lycra wrapping, her long, shapely legs crossed at the ankle.

I went in for the kiss, slipping one hand into the small of her back, and letting my fingers spread wide so I could feel her bum lifting as she pushed her hips against me, moaning softly.

Our lips met, hers parting wide, the tip of her tongue teasing mine. Her soft belly and full breasts pressed against me through the sopping wet swimsuit. We parted slowly, Marisa biting her naughty tongue and letting her fingers stroke the length of my cock through my shorts.

"You are just rude!" I exclaimed. "You were going to leave me marooned in a hot tub full of my own spunk!"

Marisa shrugged, giggling. "I do like getting my own way." she said. "Now sit down on the bench."

I did as she said. There was a single red light bulb in the sauna and it was baking hot. I could feel the oily perspiration starting all over my bare torso. She moved closer to me and I could see the perspiration beading and mixing with the water from the tub on her skin too. I watched, hypnotised as the glistening drops slid over the smooth mounds of her breasts.

Marisa straddled me, setting her towel aside. Putting her hands high above mine, she leaned forward, bringing her full breasts closer to my mouth.

I breathed on the little peak of her nipple, pushing up the pure white lycra. Marisa sighed, and leaned in a little closer.

I cupped her waist with my hands, pulling her closer until her belly touched my chest. Gently, I licked the smooth, tender curve of her breast, and her swelling nipple.

Marisa dropped her own hands to her breasts, cupping and massaging them while I kissed and licked her through the material of the swimsuit. Tiny little moans and sighs escaped her as we both rubbed her tender nipples.

Gently, she slipped her fingers beneath the halter neck of her costume and lifted it a little, stretching the material even more tightly over her breasts.

She lifted higher, slipping the ribbon of fabric over her head and then dropping it. She rolled her costume down, unveiling her beautiful breasts. Showing herself off now, she ran her hands up over her slim body, cupping and lifting her boobs closer to my mouth. 

Desperate to have my mouth on her tits, she shoved her body forward, her crotch hard against the top of my belly, her smooth, slick thighs to either side of me. She lifted her nipple closer to my lips, rubbing herself against me, using the friction between our sweat soaked bodies to part her lips.

I engulfed her nipple in my hot mouth, sucking hard. At the same time I reached between her legs, lifting the clinging wet lycra to one side and exposing her gaping cunt. I rubbed her own juices over her over sensitised clit, making her moan and twist.

We were both ready to fuck. I wriggled my shorts out of the way, and Marisa lowered herself slowly on to the tip of my jutting cock, cooing and moaning as I penetrated her. She took all of my inside her, arching her back as I filled her up.

Needing a little more stimulation, her hands snaked down over her beautiful body, playing with her own clit as she rode me. I could already feel the hot pressure building in my balls as the girl's cunt lips squeezed and gulped at my bulging cock. But I wanted to give her one last surprise.

Holding her tight, I lifted her up, carried her to the bench in the middle of the room and lay her down so that I was on top. Marisa gasped at the reversal of roles, stretching her arms high above her head. Her body writhed and twisted below me as she moaned and cried her way towards her climax.

Crossing her legs behind my back, she crammed as much of my cock into her as she could, crying out as her swollen lips pulsed powerfully around my cock. I let go too, loving the feeling of my dick pumping hard inside her. 

Marisa rode out the orgasm, her sweat slicked body slipping against mine, her blond hair plastered across her face and her swimsuit bunched around her waist.

She stroked my back, gazing up at me, still obviously enjoying having me inside her.

"You know, I've been thinking about what I need to do tonight..." she said, slipping the head of my cock naughtily in and out of her.

"And...?"

"Well, there is something about fucking on clean hotel sheets that just...makes me wet." she said, shrugging her bare shoulders. 

"We'd better get up there then." I said, my cock jumping at the idea of twelve hours alone with this woman.

Marisa pushed me off her. Smoothly sinking to her knees and sucking my dick between her soft red lips. Her fingers closed around the shaft. She looked up at me.

"I'd better do something about this first." she said.



Close Confinement



The brothers did everything together. Their logging business was successful and they were regarded with respect in the village. There was also a little bit of apprehension. They were both very big, strong men who you would not want to argue with. In rural Bulgaria families are tight knit and conservative. It was no surprise the the brothers' father arranged their marriage to two sisters from a neighbouring community and they all moved into the large family home.

In contrast to their husbands, the sisters were short and slim, but with full breasts and they were pretty girls. At eighteen and nineteen they were also several years younger than the brothers. The women were not expected to do work other than keeping house, but it was very large and the men demanded high standards. Any failings resulted in discipline which might be given by either brother or their father.

Getting on for a year after the wedding Anka was coming close to term in her first pregnancy. When her contractions started she went to her sister Ivet so that they could make preparations to carry out the strict instructions of her husband.

Ivet gave Anka a very thorough warm milk enema and then lubricated her ass well. The two women milked Anka's tits until they had enough to half fill two small glasses. Ivet topped them up with vodka. While Anka took off her clothes Ivet phoned her husband to tell him the time was close. Ivet worked more lubricant into Anka's ass and laid out clean, soft blankets on the floor. Anka knelt on all fours panting and wincing as each contraction came, but without crying out.

Within a few minutes the brothers came in. When Ivet said that the birth could come within an hour or two they took off their clothes. Anka's husband pulled up a chair and sat in front of her face, telling her to suck him until he was hard. At the same time Ivet's husband put his dick in her mouth for the same job. As soon as Kosta was hard he moved round and eased his prick into Anka's ass. Marko removed his cock from his wife's mouth and put it in Anka's. Holding her tightly by the hair Marko pressed his large prick all the way down her throat and built up the same fucking rhythm as his brother. At a slight nod from Kosta the men withdrew and changed places.

Ivet placed her head on Anka's back with her mouth as close as she could get to the prick boring deeply into her ass. A mixture of grunts and groans escaped from Anka's cock filled mouth. Ivet stroked her sopping clit until Kosta withdrew his dick from her sister's ass and plunged it into her mouth. A few minutes later the men swapped positions again and Anka shuddered in an explosive orgasm. Kosta shot a load into her mouth. Marko felt her ass spasm on his dick as she orgasmed and then relax a little. He felt the movement of the baby against his stiff prick deep in her bowels. As soon as Kosta took his softening prick from Anka's mouth, Marko took his dick from her ass and shot another huge load into her mouth.

As the exhausted woman collapsed on the blankets carefully swallowing the cum, the two men picked up the glasses and downed their Anka cocktail in a single swig. Ivet reflected that she was eight months pregnant and it would be her time soon.

Kosta told his wife to get well rested. The punishment caning that she had outstanding because of her condition would be started forty eight hours after the birth of the child. Both men dressed and went back to work.

Just two days later, Anka walked out to the back yard. She was naked except for wrist and ankle cuffs. The old man, Ivan, attached her to the whipping frame with her arms and legs spread wide. He went back indoors where his sons had just finished their evening meal and Ivet was clearing away.

"She is ready."

"OK" said Kosta. He told Ivet to go and get the punishment book and canes. She stopped what she was doing and ran off immediately. When Ivet returned she too was naked. It was required for both women to attend all punishment sessions in this way.

They all went to the back yard where the men sat on a bench a few yards in front of the whipping frame. Ivet handed each man his cane and gave the punishment book to Kosta. Flipping through the pages, Kosta got to the point he wanted.

"Forty two strokes of the cane, fourteen of the whip and twenty one with the leather strap" he read out. He looked up at Anka who still looked very tired although she had slept well after her son was born. Kosta stood up and walked over to her. Her legs were trembling and there was a tear in her eye. Anka was used to being caned. It hurt a lot, but as far as she was concerned it was a normal part of life. Her father had caned her as a child and since she married it had been done to her a lot until the later stages of her pregnancy. Now, weakened by the birth and seven or eight weeks since her last beating, she feared the cane and the large amount of punishment she had accumulated.

Kosta ran his fingers over Anka's belly. His large, calloused hands were rough on the stretch marks. He pushed two fingers into her cunt and wondered to himself whether it would ever be tight again in the way he liked.

"Today you will only have eight cane strokes. Six on the ass and two on your tits." Said Kosta. "A gentle return to normal", he chuckled. Anka's tension eased a little. Although she was still concerned about the caning and she did not know how well she would cope with getting it on her milk filled breasts, eight strokes was not too bad. She had once received fifty strokes of the cane in one session and that had been very bad, but she got over it.

Kosta turned his head. "Is that OK father?" The old man was still head of the household and the brothers accorded him his status in all they did.

"Sure" said Ivan. "That is merciful. When will she have more? There is a lot to catch up."

"A strapping in a couple of days I think."

"OK" said Ivan, idly reaching out to Ivet's leg and drawing her towards him. Since his wife died eight years previously, the old man hadn't had much sex, but he still enjoyed women and he was free to do as he liked with the brothers' wives when the fancy took him. Ivan turned her back to him and examined the faint remaining lines on her buttocks from the last caning nearly two weeks ago.

"You already have some debt built up too." Said Ivan mischievously as he felt Ivet's cunt. "So, you are wet for an old man. Get down and suck me. You can have some cum for that fat belly." Ivet dropped to her knees and undid the old man's clothes as Kosta raised his arm.

The cane whistled through the air before making a loud crack on Anka's ass. She let out a small scream before clearly calling out "One Master." Kosta wasted no time in applying a further two hard strokes on her ass which left her with bright welts standing out from the flesh. Her third scream was louder and longer. Anka had to recover her breath to call out "Three Master" in time.

Marko lined up the cane with a couple of light taps and then took his arm right back to deliver a stinging stroke. Anka screamed as the hard blow brought up another livid welt on her sore buttocks. She called out "Four Master" and Marko raised the cane again. With this stroke, Anka let out a kind of yelp that took Ivet by surprise. She jumped and nipped Ivan's cock with her teeth. He slapped her face

"Stupid bitch. Put five with my strap in the book. You better get that baby out soon so I can give 'em to you. When you have made the entry go and get the sink plunger." Ivet's heart sank. She knew what Ivan was going to do. The plunger had a plastic handle that was thicker than a broom handle. Ivan pushed it in Anka's ass once when he wasn't able to beat her because of her pregnancy. He made her kneel with her face on the floor for an hour with the plunger sticking out of her ass.

The old man looked at the plunger and smiled. When he used it on Anka he marked it with a felt tip pen to show how far he had pushed it in. He told Ivet to kneel, but before he did any more Marko had finished his caning of Anka's ass. Marko called out to his father to come and give her the two strokes on her tits. Ivan put down the plunger, picked up his cane and went over.

Anka's face was now streaked with tears and she was still sobbing gently. Ivan ran his gnarled old hands over her scorching ass. "Good job boys." He went to her front and squeezed Anka's tits so that milk droplets appeared on her nipples. Moving to one side he never even needed to take aim. He had abused his wife's tits for many years and it made him feel younger to be doing it again with his sons young wife. With the crack of the cane Anka's heavy tits jostled wildly, flicking tiny droplets of milk away. Ivan moved to the other side as Anka called out the stroke and he ended the caning with the eighth blow stinging her closer to the nipples.

Leaving Kosta to take Anka down from the frame, Ivan and Marko went back to where Ivet was still kneeling. Marko looked at the mark on the plunger.

"My prick's longer than that. You can get it in further."

Ivan took it from his son. He pushed the handle into Ivet's cunt and twisted it around to get it slippery with pussy juice. Marko spread his wife's ass cheeks. Ivan put the rounded end to her sphincter and pressed it in. Ivet gasped. It hurt. She had been fucked in the ass many times and it was true that big pricks had been fully inside her, but this thing was hard in a way that flesh could never be. Ivan worked it in and out, going further each time until he had got it as far as the mark. It looked as though Ivan was going to leave it at that, but Marko wanted his wife to be harder used than her sister. He grasped the plunger and pushed it in a further inch and a half. Ivet squirmed and groaned. Although the brothers had fucked her in the ass and pussy at the same time, she had never felt her insides so stretched.

The men left her. Anka was giving formal thanks to her husband for the punishment. Kosta shot a good load into her mouth and she kept it open for the other men to see before she was told to swallow it. Marko put his prick in her mouth and began a fairly hard throat fucking. He put his hand on the front of her neck so that he could feel his dick going in and out. Ivan felt his cock getting stiff again as he looked forward to his turn.

Not bad for an old man he thought. Can still get it up alright for a pretty girl. How many men his age got to fuck a teenager any way and any time he wanted. He was proud of his family.



Close Cousins



Edited by NaughtyMike

During my freshman year at Hamner College, after I'd lost my cherry on the beach at summer camp, I had sexual experiences with a few guys I met at school. None of those was very noteworthy, except for a VMI cadet named Chad.

Chad's main claim to fame, at least in my book, was that he was always trying to see how long he could hold off his orgasm. You might think that this showed great consideration for his female partners. I think it showed more Chad's intense VMI-honed competitiveness. Not that I was complaining. 

Chad's favorite and most effective (but not necessarily his most romantic) method of not coming too fast was to recite the names of the US Presidents, in chronological order- ALOUD. I would say this method was effective. It became even more so when he used it with me, because we would debate over whether he should say Grover Cleveland's name twice, since he served two non-consecutive terms in office. I maintained that it was unnecessary to say the man's name more than once because other presidents who served more than one consecutive term are not named twice.

Chad felt very strongly that naming Cleveland twice established the fact that William McKinley did not immediately follow Benjamin Harrison. This debate delayed Chad's orgasms very nicely. It also delayed mine, and probably yours too, reading about it. 

As much fun as I had at college, I was very happy to come home for summer vacation. I'd missed my family terribly. Particularly, I missed my cousins. I have several cousins, but the two I was closest to were Lana and Tristan. They were not brother and sister, but they were both from my father's side of the family. Lana was a year younger than me and Tristan (known as Tris) was about seven or eight years older. I played mostly with Lana as a little girl, but Tris often babysat for us and he was sort of like a big brother to us both. He taught me how to throw a baseball like a boy and later on taught me how to drive so well that I had no trouble in my driver's ed class. As a small child, I'd wanted to marry him when I grew up, until it was explained to me that first cousins can't marry each other because they might have retarded babies. That was a disappointment right up there with finding out Santa Claus was really fat drunk Uncle Harry. 

Both cousins were (and still are) extremely good-looking, with dark curls and green eyes. Lana was short and a little plump, with a baby face and freckles, while Tristan was about five-ten and built like a lifeguard, which is ironic because he hated the water. He never went swimming. 

Tris had had a few girlfriends in the past, but two years before, he had amazed everybody by bringing a date to his brother's wedding. No, that's not really amazing by itself, but it is when I tell you the date's name was David. After the family got over the surprise, they accepted the relationship with very little difficulty.

During my second week home, Lana, Tris and I got together for the evening at the home of Lana's mom, my aunt Cindy, who was away in Cleveland for the week. She had a swimming pool in the backyard and a finished basement used as a rec room. Lana and I swam till long after dark, but Tristan refused to join us in the water, opting instead to sit in a lounge chair by the pool and watch the moths and mosquitoes committing suicide against the spotlights spaced around the patio while we all talked and laughed together.

We'd all had a few beers and Lana and I got pretty goofy. We started daring each other to do this and that, and predictably we ended up daring each other to swim topless. I undid the top of my bikini and tossed it out onto the concrete deck, but Lana had a slight problem. She was wearing a one-piece swimsuit. She didn't want to take the whole thing off and be the only one totally naked, so I, faithful pal that I am, shucked out of my bottoms and we both swam naked. There is nothing quite like skinny-dipping, as long as the water is warm and the night is dark.

All too soon, thunder rumbled in the sky and we had to get out of the water and go inside. When we climbed the pool steps and stood naked and dripping on the deck, glistening in the moonlight. Tristan leered at us comically and let out a loud wolf whistle. We both squealed and pretended to cover our personals, but we were both flattered.

Lana and I changed into shorts and T-shirts and the three of us went down into the rec room. We sat around on the old couch listening to the radio and drinking beer. Our main topic of conversation was our love lives. Lana was still a virgin and wasn't in much of a hurry to change that, but she enjoyed hearing Tristan and me talk about our escapades. After I'd ingested a sufficient quantity of alcohol, I agreed to imitate Chad's delaying tactic, which they promptly dubbed the Filibuster. I was drunk enough that I mixed up the chronology, added a few of the seven dwarfs and we all laughed like hyenas on speed.

When things calmed down a little, I asked Tristan how he and David were getting along. Tris made a vinegary face and told me he and David had "agreed to see other people." I asked "So are you seeing other people?" He said he wasn't and added that he wasn't so sure he liked guys much after all, although he still found some of them attractive. It was pretty clear he didn't really know himself what he wanted.

Teasingly, I asked "Well, how about girls? Do you find them attractive?" Whereupon, my favorite boy cousin turned to face me, looked me right in the eye and said, making an effort not to slur, (he'd made some impressive inroads on the liquor) "Tonight I am finding YOU VERY attractive, Amy Rae." Then he took hold of my chin, leaned down and French kissed me right on the lips. 

Lana squealed and giggled, as she is prone to doing even when she isn't drunk. At first I was startled, but quickly recovered and returned the kiss. Kissing-wise, on a scale of one to ten, Tristan was a nine. He'd have been a ten except for the beer on his breath, but I shouldn't fuss about that since I surely tasted the same way.

The kissing got progressively more heated and I soon found myself almost horizontal and nearly crowding Lana off the couch. My shirt was pulled up and Tristan was sucking on both my nipples alternating between the two like a slow speed wiper. I noticed something a little odd in his breast-worshipping technique. Whereas most guys handle the whole breast, rolling/kneading/squeezing, Tris kept his attention focused entirely on the nipple. My guess is he was not used to having more than a nipple to work with. He didn't have any doubts about what to do with a pussy though. His hand was down my shorts and panties and I was getting quite a clitty massage from my cousin. 

I sat up and suggested we move someplace else if we were going to continue on in this manner. I'd been looking across the room at the old pool table. It had been a fantasy of mine to fuck on a pool table, but up to now I'd never been near one when the situation was right. I might never get another chance like this, even if it was my cousin. 

Tris and I moved over to the pool table and I laid down on it. Just in case you are thinking of trying it out, by all means go right ahead, but I am warning you, those things are not kind to your back and the felt gave me a rash in place I didn’t know I had. 

Lana was giggling and weaving all over the place as she wandered to the stereo to look through the tapes. While Tristan was wrestling my shorts off me, she selected a tape and turned it on. It was Aerosmith's "Walk This Way." You know that song. It's the one that says the best kind of lovin's a sister and a cousin.

My flowered panties hit the floor on top of my shorts, and Tris ran a finger over the shaved mound between my legs. He chuckled quietly. "What's the joke?" I wanted to know. He came around beside me and dropped his own cutoffs, which he was wearing commando-style. And lo and behold, he was as shaved as I was! He had about eight inches, and what a friend of mine called a G-spot curve. Lana busted out laughing and said "You're perfect together! Nobody will get whisker burns!"

I was hoping real hard that Tristan wasn't going to want a blow job. If he asked me, of course I would do it, but I had a small hang-up about putting my mouth on anything that had been in some guy's ass. I need not have worried. A BJ was never mentioned. Instead, Tris pulled me down on the table so my legs were well over the end and he bent over and started licking. I don't think he was too experienced in pussy-eating, because he was all over the map and didn't have a very good rhythm. It wasn't bad though. He licked and kissed all over the outside of my muffin, like he was enjoying the smooth soft hair-free skin. I spread my legs farther and he took the hint and stuck his tongue up inside me. He kept his tongue stiff and moved it in and out and in a clumsy circle. It didn't feel bad but it wasn't really doing much for me. Time for another hint.

I said "Hey, Tris" to get his attention and reached down and tapped my clit with my index finger. He got that hint too, and started working his tongue over the magic button. He did a little better there but still kept his tongue too stiff and flicked in one direction. I said "Look, just relax, if you relax your mouth it'll be more fun for us both and you won't get tired so fast." He made an effort and it got better. I laid back and closed my eyes, rocking my hips up and down to help keep him in a rhythm. He started moving his tongue in different directions too. He denied it later, but I am quite sure he was spelling out his name. The letter S was most pleasurable for me. I found myself wishing his name was Sassafrass Sussex Sessions.

I was getting close to coming when Tristan stopped abruptly and said "Are you sure you want to go all the way?" I said "Yes, yes, YESSS!" Lana giggled. "Doesn't sound like she's too sure!" Tris flipped her off. I lobbed a cue ball at her but missed. I stayed on my back and Tristan joined me up on the pool table, which swayed just a little at first but then stood steady as he settled down on top of me. 

I wrapped my legs around his hips and we were off. This was the first time I'd had a G-spot curve in me and the sensation was not like anything I'd experienced previously. I'd tried in the past to find my own G-spot, using instructions I'd read in women's magazines, but my fingers are not long enough and I could never get much stimulation there. Now however, I was getting some of the feelings the articles had talked about. 

Okay, just one of the feelings they'd talked about. The feeling that I needed to pee. I knew this was normal, but I kept waiting for it to turn into something else. I began to enjoy it more, but there were no fireworks. And as five minutes of hard pumping turned into ten, it became apparent that we had a problem, Houston. Tristan wasn't reciting any presidents' names or counting backward by sevens from one thousand, but his orgasm was definitely delayed. First, I told him to stop for a minute and relax, which he did. After a break we started up again. We kept at it. And at it. And at it. And also, at it. No payoff.

I tried everything I could think of to help. I moved hard and fast with him, I laid still as a statue. I kept my eyes open and looked into his, I closed them. He sucked on my nipples, I sucked on his. (He liked that a lot. Not all guys do.) I ran my fingertips down his spine light as feathers. I dug my fingernails into his back. Nothing. Still good and hard but no end in sight. And that stupid pool table was killing me.

Suddenly I saw Lana wobbling toward us. She stood by our heads and tapped Tristan on the arm. He turned his head to look at her and she whispered something in his ear that I couldn't hear. He made a go-on head motion and she moved around to the bottom of the table, behind him, and commenced to fondling his balls, which must've been pretty full and tight by now. Tris picked up speed and I thought for sure Lana's magic fingers were going to have him coming in no time. I didn't know she had another trick up her sleeve. Peering at her over Tris's right shoulder, I saw her step back and deliver a sudden and quite loud slap to his right ass cheek. I had an advantage; I saw it coming and he didn't. He yelped and jerked forward and she slapped the other cheek; then the other again. 

And what do you know? He pulled out of me, stood up and sprayed what felt like a gallon and a half of scalding hot come-juice all over me. I have never seen so much at once. I was splattered with it from neck to thigh and a good portion landed on the table. Tristan apologized instantly, brushing back some of my hair to keep it out of the mess, and said he did it because he'd forgotten to ask if I was on birth control. I assured him I was and he leaned over and started licking the come off me, sucking it from my nipples and working his way downward.

Lana beat him to the finish. She pushed him aside, stood between my legs and before I could stop her she fastened her lips on my clit and gave two long hard sucks that finally brought me the orgasm I'd been building toward all evening. After the spasms finally stopped, I just laid there with my arm over my eyes to block the light for a few minutes. Then I got up to help Lana clean the goop off the felt, but before we did that, I got her to undress and take my place on the table. Both Tris and I stared at her plump breasts as she doffed her top. They rested beautifully on her chest. I didn't waste any time. I sucked once on each pretty rose-pink nipple and then went right between her chubby thighs. I held aside the puff of soft dark hair and saw, for the first time, that Lana had a rather long clitoris. It was not dick-like, but it was prominent, and therefore, easy to get to. I gave it ten licks and she came quickly and quietly, with a little spurt I might add. 

Tris had collapsed on the couch and was out like a light, so I put a blanket over him before Lana and I settled down on futons on the floor. We all slept like logs that night and in the morning we agreed the night was a once-in-a-lifetime treat that we had all enjoyed. Several months later, Tristan called me up at school to invite me to his parents' Christmas party. I accepted and asked if I should bring a date. "You can if you want to," he said "I am."

"Oh yeah? Who's it?"

"Her name's Kimberly, you don't know her."

I thanked him again for inviting me, said I'd see him soon, and said good-bye. I smiled as I hung up the phone. Who says conversion therapy doesn't work?

Author's note: I'll give you a blow job if you can name all the presidents in chronological order. No fair looking them up. I will know if you did. And also let me know how you would handle the Grover Cleveland problem. 



Close Encounter



Caren was 37, single, about 5'3" tall with dark wavy hair down to the middle of her shoulder blades. She had blue eyes, small breasts, shapely legs and a great ass. She worked out regularly at the gym, specializing in stair master exercises. She wore clothes that accentuated her body and usually could be seen at work wearing short skirts in the summer and tight fitting pants or dresses in the winter. She was a partier, going to happy hours nearly every week. 

Her coworker, Mike, a little younger than she, always admired her looks. She was quite a piece of scenery to have around the office. When he would talk to her while she was seated at her desk, he would notice her beautiful thighs exposed when her skirt rode up as she sat there. Mike was not into office affairs. He always hated gossip and did not want to be the subject of the office banter if word got out of a suspected affair.

Caren and Mike would interact quite a bit at work. It would be hard to avoid one another, as they worked for the same supervisor. Mike went to happy hours also, although not as frequently as Caren. However, whenever he went, she was inevitably present. She drank and danced her share, and also conversed very much. She always looked good. One night, as some women will do after some drink, she was getting a little amorous with Mike. He could see the look in her eyes and hear the way she was talking, but he did not let anything happen. She never followed up after that. Another time, they were invited on another coworker's boat. Caren showed up in a solid white bikini. Mike had to hide a hard-on for most of the outing, and almost invited her out for dinner afterward, but he bowed out.

One fine day at the office, the company decided they were going to make some cuts. Caren and Mike, along with a several others, were let go. Caren and Mike exchanged home phone numbers to keep each other abreast of job leads and so forth. The next morning, while at the unemployment office, Mike was leaving when Caren came walking in. She was wearing blue jeans that were oh so form fitting. Her fine ass was so curvy and moved so well when she walked. It looked great when she was standing still too, for that matter. He waited for her to finish her business, and then they went to a diner for some brunch. It was a commiserating session, venting about the loss of their jobs and wondering what lied ahead. When they were ready to leave, Caren kissed him goodbye on the cheek. Each one knew they lived about 3 minutes away from one another, but both said they were busy and wouldn't be able to spend anymore time together that day.

From time to time, each one would phone the other with any job updates and also talk about other things in life. Each one had their separate circle of friends, so they did not socialize outside of the company of other coworkers prior to this job loss. But the situation they both found themselves in gave them something in common to socialize about.

As time went on, the job search seemed more hopeless and Caren's phone calls became more frequent. It was cool being home from work for the first couple of weeks, but now it sucked. Caren felt the need to talk more and gave updates about people she kept in contact with at the old office. She began to sound more downtrodden, and Mike did his best to remain upbeat. Soon, the phone would ring on a daily basis, and when it wasn't a headhunter, it was Caren. But the conversations remained just that: conversations. There was never any talk of getting together. Caren, after all, had a boyfriend who either lived with her or lived just down her block.

As the months rolled from late winter to spring to midsummer, their phone calls had become second nature. One late Sunday afternoon in July, Mike's phone rang. He heard Caren's familiar voice say "hiii." Only this time, it seemed a little friendlier and less depressed than usual. The conversation was relaxed and went on and on. They spoke about which ex-coworkers they saw last and what was new with them. Silences between talking did not seem to deter either of them. It seemed neither of them wanted to hang up. They commented about the weather and Caren mentioned that it was a good thing she had air conditioning in the bedroom of her apartment, as she lived upstairs and the rest of the apartment was sweltering. Mike told her how lucky she was to have A/C. He was sweating it out in his apartment. 

"At least I have some cool air in the bedroom. I've been in here most of the day. Right now I'm lying on the bed in my shorts watching TV and eating some Haagen Daz," Caren said, her voice tinged with slight wantonness. Mike could see those luscious tanned legs now. His penis jumped slightly under his loose fitting shorts. 

Almost an hour had passed since the phone call began.

"My boyfriend went camping upstate for the weekend and he was supposed to be home by now. He must have gotten caught in traffic," she said.

The conversation continued playfully now, with Mike teasing her about her boyfriend not being there and Caren teasing him back about not having A/C.

Then Mike said, "Man I'd love to get out of this heat for a little while. How about if I drop by for a few minutes, just until your boyfriend gets back?"

After almost 10 seconds of silence, Caren answered "Ok." Mike said he'd be right over.

Mike arrived at the house. It was a house split into two apartments, one on the ground level and one upstairs. Caren's was upstairs. After passing through the front door of the house, Mike found himself facing a staircase leading up. There was also a hallway to the left of the staircase leading to the back of the house, with a door to the right behind the staircase leading to the other apartment. Mike climbed the stairs. Caren must have heard his footsteps because she opened the door before he had a chance to knock.

Caren smiled and they kissed each other on the cheek as Caren led him in by the arms. She turned to walk in front of him and Mike almost passed out at the sight of her legs and ass in those shorts. She was shoeless. She gave him the nickel tour of the place. He commented that she was right about it being hot in there. She then ushered him into the bedroom and closed the door. What a difference in temperature! But although it was much cooler in the bedroom due to the A/C, Mike still felt quite heated up. Apparently, so did Caren.

Mike noted there was nothing to sit on in the room except the queen-sized bed. Caren bent over the bed to clear away some magazines. Mike's antenna went up as he gazed at the crack of her ass showing against her shorts and the way her t-shirt rode up on her.

Caren climbed onto the bed and patted the mattress next to her, looking at Mike and signaling him to get beside her. 

"So how do you like the A/C?" she asked.

"It's great. Much better than before" he replied.

"I knew you'd like it. And I'll bet you'll like this too."

With that, Caren got onto her side facing Mike and began rubbing his chest with her hand and fingers. Mike touched her shoulder and leaned to kiss her. They locked lips and kissed long and deep, their tongues dancing together. He wanted her so much. He gently pushed her away onto her back. He reached for her shorts and tugged them off. He did the same with her sexy underwear. He wanted nothing to stand between him and her breathtaking womanhood. 

Mike looked at Caren's neatly trimmed pussy and almost salivated. His dick was totally attentive. But first, he wanted those legs. He bent her legs straight back over her head and slowly kissed and sucked his way from her gorgeous calves to the underside of her thighs. Her legs were so smooth, so soft, yet firm, and so shapely. He nibbled on the underside of her thighs down to her butt. 

He allowed her legs to fall forward again. This time, he bent the knees and spread her legs apart. He gave her long sucking kisses on the insides of her thighs while his fingers caressed the outsides of her thighs. She was growing wetter by the second. He could smell her musk and this turned him on. The tip of his tongue traced a path along the sides of her wet slit. He then lapped at her pussy with a flattened tongue. Caren's head was moving from side to side. Every now and then the tip of his tongue would brush up against her swollen clit and her hips would thrust forward with touch.

Caren was wetter than wet now and Mike knew she was ready for his cock. She confirmed this by exhaling a breathy whisper, "Hohhhh Mike, I need you so bad!"

Mike stood up and removed his shorts and briefs. His erect cock sprang from its lair, its tip covered in pre-cum. He briefly thought about fucking Caren in the missionary position, but what he really wanted was her ass. He turned her over and she got on all fours on the bed facing the headboard. He marveled at how round her ass was. He never saw more beautiful buttocks. 

He got into position behind her and rubbed the length of his hard cock against her wet lips, mixing his pre-cum with her cunt honey. She moaned in anticipation and raised her hips as a welcome to his initial thrust. Mike plunged his hardness all the way into her warm soft wetness. Caren took in a quick breath as she became impaled. Animal instincts took over now. Mike became obsessed. He wanted nothing more than to give Caren a good hard fucking. His stiff cock moved like an oiled piston inside her tight wet pussy. He looked down and saw his cock disappear and reappear between those incredible ass cheeks and he was so turned on. "Ohhh Caren……I always wanted to fuck you like this!!" he groaned.

Caren's hands were gripping the top of the headboard. Her head was moving around, side to side and back and forth. The bed was shaking from their humping and the headboard was banging against the wall. His body was slamming against her beautiful ass. "Ohhh Mike…. yesss!!!" she said loudly.

His hands were holding her hips tightly as he drilled her. He increased his speed and the force of his thrusts. She felt as if a pile driver was screwing her. Soon she felt the tingling begin throughout her body. Her head was rocking back and forth as she held onto the headboard with all her might. "Oh fuck…..I'm cumming!!!" she yelled. He felt her tight little pussy grow even tighter around his pole as she began what became a long intense orgasm, followed by short little orgasms. She felt his cock twitch inside her and he was overcome by the incredible tingling sensation in the underside of his cock head as he pumped what seemed to be a gallon of hot cum inside her. She felt thoroughly filled up.

As emotions settled down and while still inside her, he took her by the hips, sat back on his heels, and pulled her back against his chest while she was still sitting on his cock. He ran his hands over her front, caressing her nipples and gently rubbing her clit and sucking her earlobe. She cooed as she felt his warm breath on her neck and shoulders and massaged his cock by squeezing it with her pussy muscles.

Caren looked to the side out the window and said "Oh shit… my boyfriend's here." Mike looked out the window and saw a car pulling up to the curb. They got up hurriedly, got dressed thanked each other and gave each other one last kiss.

Mike ran out the apartment door and spilled down the stairs. Instead of exiting the front door immediately, he turned to his right and ran down the hall to the back of the staircase. He waited for Caren's boyfriend to enter. When he heard the front door open, Mike casually walked around from behind the staircase, giving the appearance he had just come from the ground level apartment. He looked at the boyfriend, smiled and said "hi." His greeting was returned as Mike kept walking and headed out the front door, and his smile grew as he got into his car and drove home.



Close Encounter



The train looked older than what I was expecting, but it had character. The interior was spacious, and there was an Old World charm to the wooden paneling and worn leather seats. Looking around, I decided the place was just a bit threadbare but still inviting. I threw my bags into an overhead rack and settled down into one of the booths. The high-back seats were comfortable and provided a lot of privacy.

I had gotten to the train almost a half hour early and was the first one in the car. I spent a little time going over some papers, but mostly just looking out over the scenic view of the city. Copiapo was lovely in the Friday afternoon sunlight and I was enjoying myself immensely. A relaxing weekend in a first class hotel was awaiting me. Life was good.

The train started with a jerk, yanking me out of my daydream. I looked around and saw only a half dozen people scattered about the cabin, all men. "Well," I thought, "should be a pretty quiet ride. I could use a good night's sleep."

I stared at the scenery for a while as the train pulled out of town, watching a thick layer of clouds roll in from the south and cover the setting sun. It looked like snow, and the view was just changing to winter twilight when the door in the front of the train car opened and let in a blast of freezing air. The conductor quickly slid the door shut and walked to the back of the car. He then started punching the tickets of the few passengers in the car, working his way forward. He was a bit slow about it, chatting with the people. I would be his last stop. I went back to my reading...

"Ticket, senor..."

I nodded as I handed it to him.

There was the metallic click of a punch. "And how do like my country?" he asked as he handed my ticket back.

Great, he spoke English! "Chile? It's beautiful. I love the air, the mountains, the people... It's so colorful... Back home I'd be celebrating the July 4'th weekend. That's a holiday for our independence. It feels so different to be here, in winter now."

The conductor was a good listener, just letting me ramble on.

I felt a little sheepish. "I guess I really look like a foreigner, huh?"

The conductor smiled as he nodded. "We're on schedule. Should be arriving in Santiago at 10 AM." He paused for a moment. "Are you here on pleasure?"

"No. Actually, I've been working here in Copiapo for a while..."

"Oh really? Where were you staying?"

"The Hotel La Casona."

"Ah, very nice."

"Yes, very nice indeed. It's right in the downtown area too, very convenient. I work for Banco Santander."

The man nodded again and paused for a moment. "And what do you do?"

"I build models."

"Models?"

"Financial models. Until a month ago, I worked in the bank's New York office. I developed a small-business model to predict industry trends. Copiapo was a perfect place to test it out. We use it for both investment banking and customer risk analysis."

"And your superiors are happy with it?"

"Oh, they're ecstatic. The projections are we're going to make millions with this. I'll be in Santiago all next month, meeting with the senior executives and setting up a second program there."

"Excellent senor! I hope you will find Santiago as worthy of love as Copiapo."

I nodded. "It's forty times as large, almost five million people! This is really a tremendous opportunity for me... Say, do you know, is it much higher up? In elevation I mean..."

The conductor was quiet for a moment as he thought. "About the same as Copiapo, I think. Maybe Santiago is a few meters higher. But both cities are less than 500 meters, I'm sure... From sea level, I mean... Breathing should be no problem. The air will be a bit thin as we travel over the mountains though..."

I nodded. "Yeah... Thanks..." He looked liked he was about to take off and I glanced about the car. "Very few travelers. Is it always this empty?"

For the first time, I saw the conductor frown. "No... Some of the cars further up are half full, but here... Ah, superstitions die very slowly..."

"Oh? This sounds interesting. What do you mean?"

The conductor just yawned for a moment, and I thought he wasn't going to reply. But then he said, "It's been three years now. I try not to think about it... There was a death on the train, in this car in fact... It was very strange..."

"Ah... A murder?"

"The police weren't sure. There was never a good explanation for what happened... Ah, best not to speak of it. Enjoy the ride senor. The views through the mountains are beautiful, even at night."

I thanked him as he walked forward and left. I looked at the mountains for a while, until the blowing snow obscured the view. It looked bitterly cold outside. It felt nice to be inside the train, cozy... I had a light snack from my backpack, watched the storm, did a bit of reading. The rhythmic clack of the wheels on the rails was very soothing. I decided to sack out.

The train dimmed the interior lights in the late evening. I was asleep for a long while, and then in the dead of night I heard the back door of the train- car slide open and close. I was semi-aware of someone walking up and down the aisle, and decided to wake up and see who it was.

What I saw was completely unexpected. I guess the closest description would be gothic gaucho. It was a young woman, very thin but fit, dressed in a black leather gaucho hat and poncho, black pants and boots. As she got close, I could also see she was wearing black lipstick and black nail polish. Even her hair, and there was a lot of it, was dyed a jet black. Her one small travel bag was, of course, black. Her face was a mask of concentration and distress and... sadness? The total effect was startling.

She kept looking over the few sleepers in the car, as if deciding where to sit. There was so much empty room, I couldn't understand why. But then I thought maybe she wanted some company. So as she passed, I smiled at her and waved my hand at the seat across from me in my booth. She looked startled at first, surprised I was awake, but then shrugged and nodded, throwing her bag on the opposite seat and sitting down next to me on my side of the booth.

I've always had a fantastic sense of empathy, so strong I could run magic shows with it when I was a kid. I would pretend to be a magician who could read minds, and my hunches were so often on target it drove the other kids nuts. But nothing prepared me for what hit me now, wave after wave of gnawing hunger. The woman looked so young, I wondered if she was a teenager, and it felt as if she were starving. Without thinking, I blurted out in my broken Spanish, "May I feed you?"

"What?!" she hissed, looking both mortified and furious. My empathic sense threw me a complete curve ball then. I got the crazy feeling she was about to lock my head in an embrace and give me an intensely passionate kiss. I backed up out of reach and shook my head in bewilderment, and then thought about what I had just said.

"Oh! So sorry. I didn't mean to sound insulting!" I looked at her eyes for the first time, pure black. Tinted contact lenses? How bizarre was this night going to get? Well, at least she spoke English. "I've just started learning Spanish a month ago... I have some food. Are you hungry? Would you like some nuts... a piece of fruit?"

She made a deep frown, and then shook her head no.

Her response was at total odds with my senses. She looked thin, really thin, and my empathy was still sounding alarm bells about waves of gnawing hunger. I persisted. "Are you sure? When was the last time you ate?"

"I don't want your food."

"If you don't eat for long enough, you'll get weak."

She laughed. "No, not me!"

"Huh? Sure you will."

"Sure I won't."

I blinked. "Oh yeah? So what does happen when you don't eat?"

"I get hungry."

"But how about after that?"

"Even hungrier." She flashed me a wicked smile.

"But eventually..." I blurted out.

"Yes! I get so hungry I must eat!"

"Right... So how long has it been since you've eaten?"

She paused for a moment. "Years..." she whispered and then glared at me, daring me to challenge her.

Okay, I thought, I give up. "Gee, I'm sorry if I pestered you. My name's Gary, by the way. I'm pleased to meet you."

She stared at me for a moment, looking very surprised that I had introduced myself. "My name is A'moth," she whispered back.

"A'moth?" I said uncertainly. There was a long A sound with the accent, followed by the word moth. I had never heard of such a name before.

The woman looked furious at my uncertainty. She hissed at me. "Yes, A'moth! What's the matter?! Doesn't my name sound feminine to you? I assure you, I can be very feminine!"

I was hit again with a strong wave of empathy, an overpowering feeling she was about to hold my head and fiercely kiss me. I backed up in confusion. "Hey! I meant no offense. And I admit, I was a bit surprised by your name. I kind of like it though. It fits you."

She looked very confused by my response, finally just nodding and looking away for a moment. Then she stretched and took off her poncho and threw it across the booth to the opposite seat. I gasped at the sight of what was underneath.

She was wearing only a sleeveless tee-shirt on top, black of course. Obviously no bra, and her shapely breasts were clearly defined in the soft cotton fabric. Her nipples were quite visible, I guessed from the cold. But as alluring as her breasts were, my eyes were drawn to her bare arms. They were magnificent. Femininely proportioned, but rippling with sleek muscles. Try to imagine a beautiful model doing technical mountain climbing twelve hours a day for a year. It still wouldn't compare to what I was looking at.

I felt sure she could pick me up and carry me off the train very easily if she wanted to. "Uh, look, A'moth. I really do apologize. You're obviously in excellent shape. I don't know why I thought you were starving."

She nodded at me but looking more confused than ever. This conversation was not what she was expecting.

We sat in silence for a while. I was getting a whole bunch of confusing signals from my empathy, crazy feelings of danger, sadness, and sexiness. It didn't make any sense. I finally decided to try conversing again.

"This'll be my first time in Santiago. How about you?"

"Santiago? Oh, the train..." She paused for so long I thought she wasn't going to continue. "I was there a long time ago." She smiled for a brief second. "I bet it's changed a lot."

I nodded. "I'll be working at a bank there. How about you? Do you have family there?"

She shook her head no, looking upset by the question. What did I say?! "No, no family. Santiago... It's a place to be, that's all."

Oh my gosh, I thought. She looks so young. Is she a teenage runaway? "A'moth, do you need a place to stay?"

"Do you want me to come with you?" She actually smiled and relaxed when she said this, as if she were expecting to be propositioned. The conversation was entering familiar ground.

"Huh?! No, of course not. I'm not trying to hit up on you. A'moth, do you need a place to stay?"

"If you don't want me, why should you care?"

"Just from kindness. A'moth, do you have any money?"

She dismissed the question. "I don't need money."

"Yikes! Of course you need money. You have nothing in your bag?"

She shook her head no. "Just some things my mother left me."

"Left you? A'moth, have you been abandoned?"

"Huh?!" For the first time I heard her laugh. It was a beautiful melodic sound. "You think I'm a youth?! Look into my eyes! Tell me what you see!"

We locked eyes with each other. The depth of her black irises was infinite, deep pools of countless sorrows and survival. My empathy began to overload me with signals I didn't understand. I finally broke the eye contact. "No. I think I understand. You're no teenager."

"Hardly!" And then she smiled at me, smiled with kindness for the first time.

I smiled back. She beckoned me to caress her, moving close to my side and sharing her warmth with me. I reached up and gently brushed my fingertips at the edge of her hair. "Your mom didn't happen to leave you a comb, did she?"

A'moth and I were almost about to kiss, but my question startled her. "Huh?!"

"A'moth, your hair, it's full of knots. Here, turn around."

She looked uncertain, but then on a whim decided to play along for a moment. I got out my comb and started to work at the knots in the bottom of her hair. Neither of us spoke for a while as I worked.

She had hair most women would die for. I realized it was naturally black, not dyed at all. And the words super luxurious wouldn't begin to describe it. My hands were soon engulfed in something all softness and silkiness. Super clean too, with a faint sweet fragrance that made my mind want to drift, to dream and imagine lying next to this delightful creature for the night. She was so beautiful...

I blinked myself back to reality. I had worked the last of the knots out a while ago, and now was just stroking the comb slowly through her hair. A'moth's emotional state was a deep puzzle to me. I could feel that being caressed was very unfamiliar to her. I sensed she was both yearning for more and deeply disturbed by what I was doing. She finally gave one soft cry and pulled away.

A'moth turned around and took the comb from my hand and stared at it.

"Keep it," I said.

She nodded, putting the comb in her back pocket. She then returned to my side, facing me. She lifted her head up and waited for me to kiss her. I almost did, she was so beautiful, so desirable, but we happened to lock eyes again instead. The moment seemed to last forever as she gazed into my soul. She finally whispered, "You're a seer, aren't you? Like me..."

I brushed my fingers gently across her cheek. "You mean empathic? Yeah, I guess so. I'm getting a whole bunch of feelings right now... that I don't understand."

"I can feel you too," she replied as she smiled. "How attractive you find me. Sexy. Desiring me..."

"Well, yeah. Some feeling I do understand. But A'moth, I'm not trying to push you into anything."

"Oh, I know. I'm the one who pushes."

"Huh?"

She sighed and changed the subject. "Another seer... I haven't met one in a very long time. Do you read too?"

"What? I don't understand what you're asking."

"Can you read people? Their lives..."

"Oh... You mean like reading their palms? Reading their future?"

She laughed. "No, of course not! The future hasn't been created yet. What is there to read? I meant the past. Here, let me show you. I can read. Give me your hand."

I was intrigued. I freely offered her my hand, wondering what she would find. She turned my hand palm up and laid it in her lap. I could feel the soft leather of her pants on the back of my hand, high up on her thigh near her hips. She then placed three fingers across the inside of my wrist, at the pulse point, and then looked back into my eyes.

Her eyes were so black. I dimly thought they didn't look like contacts at all, but naturally jet black eyes... Was that possible? There was something else too about her eyes, so unusual. What was it? Something about her eyes...

A'moth smiled at me as she pressed her fingers into my pulse. "Like this, I can read you very well. You are unattached... no children... that's good... smart... you had an interesting life... only came to Chile... a month ago..."

"Ha! Good guesses!"

"I'm not guessing... You are kind... truly kind... I'm sorry I picked you..." She glanced out the window. The snow had stopped hours ago and there was a faint promise of pink on the eastern horizon. She sighed heavily. Did I see tears in her eyes? "But it's too late for me to change..."

"Huh?"

A'moth leaned over and kissed me, full on the mouth, her hand on my wrist holding me to her. I was too startled to push back, and then I didn't want to. She was all softness and femininity and my body was begging to be inside her. She leaned over and pressed her body against me, and everything was warmth and full of sexual promise.

I got lost in our kiss. Her tongue somehow kept my tongue out of her mouth but she playfully entered mine. It was very sensual, and after a while my mouth sensed a sweet taste, quite unusual. I drifted in the intense sexuality.

I blinked in surprise when I realized her hand was caressing my penis through my pants, probing its firmness. I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but my erection was throbbing for her. We were still locked in a kiss, and both of us were panting in arousal and urgency. She had already unbuckled my belt, and had almost worked my pants off from my hips.

I didn't want to hurt her, didn't mean to take the sexuality this far. But it was hard for me to move, infinitely more difficult than I would have imagined. I raised my hand to push her away. A'moth adjusted her position and let my hand cup her breast. Such a beautiful shape, ripe with promise... So soft... So beautiful... I felt overwhelmed with desire for her, and so sleepy. I dreamed of suckling the hard nipple that pressed into my palm... I dreamed resting my head in her lap as I suckled her....

I blinked and realized I had been drifting again, caressing her breast and drifting. We were finished kissing, and A'moth had my penis free of my pants. She had the fingers of her right hand curled around my slick shaft. It was covered in the moisture of her saliva. Her pumping strokes on the slick lubrication were incredible. My erection felt super stiff.

And it felt so good! I wanted to lose myself in the pleasure, just close my eyes and imagine my penis thrusting into the warm moisture of her vagina, dream of mounting her and holding her and... But no! I barely had the will to drop my hand from her breast to her ribs below. Her body felt strange, as if her ribs were not quite in the right location. I pushed anyway, finally separating us.

A'moth had been staring at my penis in intense concentration, adding moisture from her mouth as she prepared to take me to orgasm. She looked up very surprised that I had made an effort to stop her from jerking me off. "I know you want me," she hissed. "And I won't stop. Just relax and give in to your desire for me." She kissed me briefly on my lips as she continued to pump my erection. She spat into me, and a sweet taste of apples and honey and almonds covered my tongue. I swallowed, and felt the sweet taste tickle my larynx.

"No. A'moth I can't!" My voice was suddenly a whisper, even though I was trying to shout. I could barely make a sound. Why was I so weak? My arms felt they were wrapped in heavy lead weights.

A'moth looked up with me, her eyes crying in sadness. "You have no choice! Neither do I. The sex will bring you great pleasure. I can promise you that!"

"Oh, it's not the pleasure! I want you so much, but not like this!" I could only whisper. My arms felt so weak, I couldn't hold them up anymore. They fell loosely to my sides. My whole body felt numb. A'moth moved back close beside me, pressing herself against me, wetting her fingers, moistening and probing my anus, spitting on my cock and then returning to stroke me... My loins ached for her...

And my body wouldn't respond when I tried to move away from her. The only spot that seemed normal was my cock, fully erect and begging for release as she continued to pump my shaft. I made one last effort to talk. "A'moth, no! This is wrong!" She would not look at me. "Please?!" I cried in a whisper.

She sobbed but shook her head no. "I have no choice!"

"Of course you do!" I whispered. "You said it yourself! The future isn't written yet. A'moth, sex shouldn't be based on force. You're raping me if you take me like this! Please..."

"I have no choice! I promise you great pleasure." She was crying, silent tears falling from her eyes.

"Not enough! Damn it! Your promise is not enough! A'moth... please... no..." I drifted for a while, barely woke when I realized she was kneeling between my legs. My erection was a phalanx of raging stiffness, she kept forcing blood up into my cock with her curled fingers, pumping at the base. My body couldn't wait to enter her.




Close Encounter



"A'moth... no... please stop..." I whispered. I felt so confused, so tired. "Why am I so sleepy?"

"I can't kiss you anymore. I need you to be semi-awake... to maintain your erection for me..."

"Huh?" What she said made no sense. She began to lick my penis with her tongue, her soft black tongue, all around the sensitive head. I felt jolts of sexual pleasure at the touch, and my cock felt as if it were going to explode. My hips started to rock back and forth in my desire to enter her. I sensed she was seconds from sliding my cock high into her mouth, and there was nothing I could do about it.

"Please A'moth! This is rape... Please no..."

"I have no choice! I promise you great pleasure."

My body was screaming yes, my conscience yelling no. I was desperate for some middle ground. "Then care for me! Promise me more! At least don't rape me..."

She paused, her open mouth poised just above my penis. "Care for you?"

"A'moth, I promise I will care for you, try to grow a love for you, never hurt you. Promise me the same!"

"Never hurt you?! You want me to promise something I know I can't keep?!"

"No! If you're sure you're going to hurt me, then promise nothing! But I'm asking you to promise your intentions, not the future!" My body was aching to be inside her. I used the last of my strength to finish my thought. "The future is unwritten. If people only promised sure things, nobody would ever promise anything of value. Promise me your intentions A'moth! Promise me you don't intend to hurt me...."

"I can't stop now... I can't..." she whispered. The world seemed silent as she paused. Her whole body shook with the intensity of the struggle within her.

At last she calmed down, her decision make. She whispered, "But I can change... Yes, even I can change. Gary, I promise. If it's possible for me not to hurt you, then I won't. It's the best I can do..." She reached out and covered herself and my legs with her poncho. I felt my penis sliding deeply into her mouth.

The sensations were electric! My hips thrust forward and I started to orgasm almost immediately. I felt sharp teeth penetrate and lock the base of my penis as I squirted my seed against the roof of her throat. She didn't gag at all. Instead I felt a strong suckle on my penis head. I didn't understand what was happening. How could anyone suckle with the far back of their throat?! But then the next wave of orgasms hit me and carried me away.

The physical pleasure was overwhelming, feelings of intense ejaculations that went on forever. I was dimly aware of rigorous pumping on my shaft, her viselike fingers stripping my blood up into my penis. I vaguely wondered why it wasn't causing an over-stiff erection, but my cock felt it was in absolute heaven. I drifted in the waves of pleasure, thrusting my hips weakly to the pulse of her firm pumping.

Eventually the wet finger returned to circle my anus. I could feel her hot fingertip pushing against my sphincter muscles, feel the hot, moist stimulation dilate me, feel myself relax and accept the penetration. Her finger felt so good as it slid up inside me, so slick and sexy and hot. Oh! My hips thrust forward as my body spasmed. And through my orgasm, I felt her probing me, then pumping me, high inside me, pumping my prostate to milk the last drop of my semen. Her fingertip was a hot electric spark buried up my ass, pumping me, igniting me, draining me... The orgasm seemed endless...

I became addicted to the pleasure, never wanting it to end. And then it did. A'moth gave a tremendous shudder, and then her sharp teeth lifted from the base of my penis. The exquisite pumping stopped too. Her hand uncurled from my cock. I felt the slick sexy slide of a finger leaving my rectum. I whimpered in dismay as my engorged cock slid from her mouth. I thrust my hips weakly forward, begging her with my body to re-couple.

There was another tremendous shudder from her, and then the head under the poncho shook from side to side. The answer was no.

I cried softly in the agony of the lack of pleasure. My cock belonged in her mouth and no where else. It belonged there forever. I thrust forward weakly, one more time. "Please?" I whispered.

In response A'moth lifted my wilting penis with her hand and her head descended below it. I felt soft lips kissing my anus and scrotum, and then she suckled a testicle into her mouth. It wasn't as good as the orgasms, but for the first time I felt love and care in her caress. Suddenly my testicle was captured in a cage of needles, suspended in the middle of her mouth with needles pricking the surface of my sac from all directions. Her teeth were that sharp.

A'moth waited for me to respond. I did so by spreading my legs more fully, completely exposing myself to her, showing her that I trusted she would never hurt me. The needles disappeared, and her mouth returned to silky softness around my sac. She nodded her head playfully under the poncho blanket, my testicle still in her mouth. Yes, she agreed, she would never hurt me.

Her lips rotated and caressed me for a moment, and then gently popped the testicle from her mouth. Her soft tongue returned to lick my anus and sac, light penetrating licks to clean my anus, light feathery touches of caring love, and then her hands began pulling my pants up. Her lips were giving my sac playful kisses of goodbye. I lifted my hips to accept the pants, and the first sunlight of the dawn broke through the window and onto the poncho. The pull of her hands on my pants faded to nothingness, and the poncho collapsed empty onto the floor between my legs.

I sat there gasping in astonishment, my lungs laboring for breath, my mind refusing to believe what my eyes had just seen. My heart was racing, and it took a long time to slow down. I couldn't quite catch my breath. I wanted more air.

I finally bent over and looked down, staring at the empty floor and my exposed penis. The penis head felt fine but looked terrible, rubbed raw and bleeding slowly at several points. The suckle at the back of A'moth's throat must have been something in reality very different than the exquisite sensations I had felt. Perhaps something in her saliva, I thought. It masked the pain. But her main feeding point had been near the base of my penis. It was covered in a bruising circular ring of needle punctures, just above where her hand had been pumping me so rigorously. I dimly understood now why I never became over-stiff from her viselike fingers...

Her bag, poncho, and gaucho hat were still with me. I gathered them up and placed them by my side in the booth, and then I struggled to put my pants back on. The simple efforts exhausted me. With great effort, I sat up straight and looked back. There was a shock of recognition. Of course! This was the last car on the train! How had I forgotten? I sat there in a daze; finally fell asleep gasping for air. The train began to descend from the mountains to Santiago.

Epilogue

It was a lot easier to breath in Santiago, but I still felt terribly weak. After taking a taxi to the hotel, I took another one to a doctor. He did a very competent check-up, frowning at me when I refused to take off my pants. I was just very undecided about how to explain my penis. Who would believe me?

The doctor finally said my body had the symptoms of a person recovering from anesthesia, and that he also thought I had lost about two pints of blood. He said I needed a transfusion, said it was borderline mandatory.

I thanked him politely but declined, wound up promising to drink lots of fluids and take the high-iron vitamins he prescribed. The doctor wasn't particularly happy with this, but I think I mystified him more than angered him.

Just resting in bed and the vitamins helped a lot. I felt well enough to go to work on Monday, and then got immersed in my project. My penis healed at an unbelievable rate. All the bruises and punctures faded to nothing within a week. My sanity became desperate to think of A'moth as just some crazy dream, but unfortunately I had the reality of her clothes and bag in my hotel room.

One month in Santiago turned into two, and then two started turning into three. Eventually my New York office became dismayed that I might never return, and they got into a bidding war over me with the Santiago branch. The offers just kept going up and up, until finally New York stunned everybody by offering me a half million dollar bonus if I would return for at least three months.

I was on a first name basis with the Santiago branch president by then, and Carlos just laughed when he saw the offer. Of course I should accept it, he said. But he also made certain I understood the bonus was just a three- month truce in the bidding war.

One week before my flight to JFK, I walked from the Santiago downtown area to the office of an expert appraiser of ancient South American artwork. I laid out a set of pictures of some of the items from A'moth's bag, big 8" by 10" prints. He stared in silence for minutes, and then started howling in laughter.

"What?!" I asked, smiling back. His laughter was contagious.

Hernando looked up at me. "This would be so sweet! Just imagine trying to take these items through customs! The security agents would go berserk, before they realized they couldn't possibly be real!"

"Oh?"

"Yes! I can't call them forgeries. There's been no attempt to age them. But this!" He pointed to a picture. "Magnificent! A magnificent guess at what the dawn of the Quipu could have looked liked!"

The picture he was pointing at was a large loose mat of strings, filled with different multi-colored fibers, and containing tens of thousands of distinct and intricate knots. "Incan Empire?" I guessed.

"Oh, much, much earlier!" laughed Hernando. He finally calmed enough to speak clearly. "The ancient coastal city of Caral... about 180 km north of Lima... I'm talking 3,000 B.C.... five-thousand years ago... the dawn of the Quipu... That's the language in this picture, using the different fiber types and colors and knots to write information." He paused for a moment. "But this is much more complex and anything ever found for real. This echoes right back to the dawn, to the legends of the Chungiera. This is how they used to write."

I shook my head, not understanding. "I've never heard the legend. Tell me?"

Hernando nodded. "A classic tale, full of mystical danger. The Chungiera were a race of women cannibals, right at the dawn of South American civilization."

He took a couple of deep breaths before continuing. "Their strength was legendary. And they were creatures of the night, never seen in daylight. The story goes that they had a large number of men in pens, for food. Only men. The wives of the men tried many times to free them, but always the men refused to leave their pens. The story is not clear why..."

Hernando sighed. "Eventually the women came up with a plan. They fed their husbands a slow poison, a day before Chungiera were to feast. It weakened the cannibals greatly, and then the women attacked at night, slaughtering them. The site of the slaughter is now the city of Caral, so the legend stays. See all the different knots in this picture? Nothing this complex was ever created by men. This is something the Chungiera would have made..." Hernando burst into laughter again.

"So they were all killed?" I asked.

"Hey? Actually, no. The legend says one escaped, a very young child, almost a toddler. The legend says one four-year old girl had not eaten and managed to break free of the net that held her, just before the women could kill her... She fled into the deep jungle... five-thousand years ago..."

I let Hernando keep the pictures, to compensate him for his time. He thought it was a good trade.

So I came back to New York, a little over three months ago. I'm now sitting in my apartment alone, looking across the city to the Big Ball, waiting for it to fall and start the new year. My laptop is on my desk nearby, logged into my bank account. As of yesterday the number is well over $300,000. It's more money than I've ever dreamed of having, especially while I'm still in my twenties.

But I don't dream of money anymore. My dreams are filled with A'moth. I promised I would try to grow a love for her, and I'm a guy who keeps my promises. But still... Should I go back? The bidding war for me got so rich I personally told Carlos not to outbid New York's latest offer; that both offers were now so high I wouldn't be deciding on money anymore.

Should I go back? I still have A'moth's clothes and bag, securely packed in a safety deposit box in Santiago. In additions to the rope histories, about two kilos of gold statues, and three kilos of silver ones, richly encrusted with sparkling gemstones. They're so beautiful... And A'moth has my comb...

Should I go back? I did some research. A little more than three years before my train ride, a man was murdered on the route. At least that's the lead theory. Nobody can figure out how. He was fine at midnight and dead a few hours later, as the train was at the peak of it's route. An autopsy showed he had lost almost three liters of blood, over half his body's supply. But there was no blood anywhere on the train.

Should I go back? Should I give A'moth an alternative to being a murderer? If all she needs is three liters of blood every three years, it really would be no problem for me. She'll just have to change to snacking, rather than waiting for one big meal. But there were only men in the ancient pens. Somehow I feel A'moth needs my semen too. It's a pure empathic guess, but I think I'm right.

Should I go back? Would it be possible to take A'moth as my wife? I know she's waiting for me, has about half a year before she must feed again. I also know she wants it to be my choice. She won't come to New York for me.

Should I go back? It would be so easy to become addicted to having sex with her. The physical pleasures are that intense. It doesn't sound healthy, for a man to be physically addicted to a woman. And yet, my heart aches to hold her in my arms again. It's not just my body. I love her... I watch in silence as the shining ball slowly falls. The roar of the crowds enters muted through my closed window. Oh A'moth, how I miss you...

Should I go back? 



Close Encounter



This was written in response to a request, by one of you, for a certain kind of story. Much of it deals with two of the characters coming to terms with desires and impulses created and/or implanted by a third character--an ET. Not a lot of sex, but a lot of foreplay and teasing, as well as a lengthy set up. Albert, I hope you like it. Comments and votes, of course, always welcome. Signed comments acknowledged. Enjoy. Jb7

Close Encounter: 3F

J. Allen Hynek, a noted Ufologist, devised a sixfold classification for UFO sightings. They are arranged in increasingly high strangeness.

Nocturnal Discs: Lights in the night sky

Daylight Discs: UFOs seen in the daytime, generally having discoidal or oval shapes.

Radar-Visual: UFO reports that seem to have radar confirmation. Though seeming to offer harder evidence of physical reality, the vagaries of radar propagation often make the ascription ambiguous.

Close Encounters of the First Kind: Visual sightings of an unidentified flying object seemingly less than 500 feet away that show an appreciable angular extension and considerable detail.

Close Encounters of the Second Kind: A UFO event in which a physical effect is alleged. This can be interference in the functioning of a vehicle or electronic device; animals reacting; a physiological effect such as paralysis or heat and discomfort in the witness; or some physical trace like impressions in the ground, scorching or effecting vegetation, or a chemical trace.

Close Encounters of the Third Kind: UFO encounters in which an animated creature is present. These include humanoids, robots, and human who seemed to be occupants or pilots of a UFO

The UFO researcher Ted Bloecher proposed six subtypes for the close encounters of the third kind in the Hynek's scale:

A: An entity is observed only inside the UFO.

B: An entity is observed inside and outside the UFO.

C: An entity is observed near to a UFO, but not going in or out.

D: An entity is observed. No UFOs are seen by the observer, but UFO activity has been reported in the area at about the same time.

E: An entity is observed, but no UFOs are seen and no UFO activity has been reported in the area at that time.

F: No entity or UFOs are observed, but the subject experiences some kind of "intelligent communication".

Subtypes D, E, and F may be unrelated to the UFO phenomenon.

--------(adapted from Wikipedia)

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The Classification Committee on Contacts is still investigating whether the event described in the following transcript is an advanced Encounter of the Second Kind or an example of An Encounter of the Third Kind, type F.

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The sentience, once known to its family and friends as Y-a-prut, or more simply as Y, drifted lazily through the void we know as Space. A manifestation of pure energy, it needed neither sustenance nor fluid to survive. Whenever it felt its energy levels dwindling, it could simply absorb some of the electromagnetic radiation which flowed from the stars like wine from a bottomless ewer to fill the voids of Space.

Y had been adrift for such a long time it could no longer recall how long ago its home system had been destroyed by the rogue solar flare which had consumed the inner planets of its star system.

Its home had been a small planet, the third (or fourth, if you counted the large rock in orbit between the first and second real planets) orbiting a small to medium sized yellow sun.

He was off his home world, visiting friends on the next outer planet, when he received an alarm call from his forebears that something was happening with their sun. He immediately boarded his ship and took off for home, ignoring the warnings of the interplanetary flight officials at the launch facility

As soon as he was clear of the space dock, he could see the solar flare boiling off the sun and realized there was no way to rescue anyone from his planet. He was nearly home, about a third of a light-minute (11.5 M miles) away, when he saw it happening on his view screen.

It looked like the sun was executing a polo pass. The flare just seemed to come through Space and slap his home planet, not only knocking it completely out of orbit, but also totally incinerating the small planet and all of the life it bore.

What Y had not considered, if he was even thinking at all as he saw his home obliterated, was the ion cloud boiling off the plasma flare. In his shock and grief, he never slowed or veered from his flight path as he watched the tragedy unfold, and plowed into the cloud of charged hydrogen atoms, totally unaware the superheated ions and free electrons were disintegrating his vessel.

It was not until he lost the view on his telemetry screen that he realized what was occurring. A sense of panic began to set in, quickly replaced by rage. Yielding to an instinctive, primal impulse, Y reached to switch on his defensive system, just as the safety by-passes were destroyed by the ion storm, sending a surge of plasma-intensity electrical current through his nervous system.

Expecting to join his family, Y was surprised, when the pain abated, to find himself hurtling through space, disembodied but aware, a tiny speck of ultraviolet energy, bouncing from solid to solid across miles and millennia, resembling nothing so much as a Brownian particle in the soup of dynamic energy filling interstellar space.

With no way to estimate time, he had no idea how long he traveled before he learned to control his direction. Once he had mastered that skill, he decided to try to find his home, or its remnants, and began to search out small yellow suns, as a place to begin his quest, to see if he could find the star which had destroyed his home.

On his journey, he encountered a wide variety of life, some sentient, most not; most corporeal, more than a few, like himself, not; some open and friendly, most, not. One race, in particular, located in the Burkisian System, had a profound effect on him. The System lay a few light-months outside the influence of the Singularity comprising the mammoth black hole at the center of the galaxy.

Suffice it to say that, from that troubled race, he learned to communicate with, and control, inhabitants of the corporeal realm. He stayed with them for several trips around their star before setting off once again on the search for his home. Catching a ride on a high powered photon, he skirted the Singularity and became aware of a number of small to medium yellow stars scattered across what the Burkisians termed the Dracon sector of the galaxy. One, toward the far, outer edge, appeared to be promising.

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Eighteen year old Albert Goode (pronounced Good-ee) sat on the last seat in the back of the school bus, dealing with the not very original thought that life wasn't fair. That morning, Kelly Davis, a seventeen year old junior, had asked him to take her to the Junior Prom tomorrow night. Yeah, she was so skinny she needed stones in her pockets if there was a strong breeze, to keep from being blown away, and if she was standing sideways you could barely see her, but she had hinted that there would be no limits after the dance. The problem was he didn't have a car, and she didn't drive.

He'd had a car, or at least access to one, before his dad had died two years ago. But with the lousy medical insurance they'd had, his mother had had to sell almost everything they had to cover the medical and funeral expenses. And with her job, the only house they could afford was the share cropper's house on his uncle's farm, causing him and his sister to change schools.

He glanced across the bus at his twin, Anni. Like him, she was sitting with her back to the window, her foot on the seat, supporting a book. He shook his head and reached out with his foot and knocked hers off the seat. When she looked up with an angry frown, he just shook his head, and said, "You were flashing me."

She put her foot back up, and pushed her skirt down between her legs. "So? It's not like you haven't seen my underwear before, on or off me."

"Yeah, but the, uh, the part that covers your, uh, um, lady bits, uh, wasn't covering them very well."

"And you don't like looking at...uh, lady bits, huh." she commented, laughing.

"No, I mean, yes, I do, but you're my sister, and I shouldn't be looking at yours."

"Doesn't stop you at home, trying to look down me and Mom's blouses, or trying to peek at us in the shower."

"I...I..I don't either," he said, blushing bright red.

She smiled, knowing he actually did try to avoid doing the things she had accused him of, wondering how she had gotten such a straight-laced brother when she was constantly pre-occupied with sex lately. If her mother hadn't reined her in, she would have run around inside the house, and out (given her druthers), in her underwear or less, just to tease him.

She knew he masturbated; she could hear him at night, but when asked directly, he'd either deny it outright, or change the topic. She had confessed to him once, recently, that hearing him at night often helped her reach her own climax; God, he had turned as red as a beet when she told him that.

She slid down slightly in her seat and surreptitiously pulled her skirt up, hoping she had revealed her panties again. His glance and turning to look away told her she had been successful. His blush and tightening of his jaw when she laughed confirmed her success and elicited another audible chuckle,

"Here's your driveway," the bus driver called, interrupting her game of show and tease.

"Aww, Ms Barrett, can't you take us to the door. It's gotta be another half mile..." came the familiar plaint from Albert.

She sighed heavily and started her usual answer, "You know I can't pull into a driveway that long..."

"Unless there's a turnaround." Anni finished for her. "He knows, Ms Barrett; Bert's just pulling your chain. Thank you. See you Monday," the blue-eyed brunette said as she got off the bus.

As he approached the exit, Bert flashed the driver a warm smile and said, "Thanks, Ms Barrett. Have a good weekend."

In spite of herself, the buxom driver smiled back, thinking, "Sonny, if your sister wasn't on this bus, I'd yank something of yours." Immediately she chastised herself, "Edie Barrett, behave yourself. He may be old enough, but he's still a student," as she put the bus in gear and headed for the bus garage.

In the exchange, no one noticed the slightly purplish light which seemed to bounce off the bus into the oak tree which marked the driveway. On Y's trip from the Burkis System, where he had learned how to enter and control a humanoid body, he had encountered a veritable river of electromagnetic radiation in the form of radio and TV signals, all streaming from a small planet revolving around a smallish yellow sun. He had absorbed and studied the information, and was familiar with the major languages of the planet, on which he had recently landed.

He had chosen to land in the area which had, roughly, the same coordinates as his family's home on his own planet. He recognized that he was on one of the larger land masses, slightly North and East of its center.

He was surprised at the similarity. It was pleasantly warm, and mildly humid, with a steady breeze. The surrounding land was rolling and appeared to covered by a new crop of some grass related plant. If Y had had eyes to close, he could have imagined he had found home.

Anni waited for her brother to get off the bus so they could walk together up the nearly quarter mile long lane which led to their house. "Something wrong, Bert? You were quiet almost all the way home. Some one, or something buggin' you?"

"No...yeah...not rea...Kelly Davis asked me to take her to her prom tomorrow night. And I had to say no, damn it. I don't have a car, and she can't drive...Fuck!"

"I'm sorry, Bro, but at least you got asked. More'n I can say," she laughed, bumping his arm with her shoulder.

"Just further proof that the guys at school are just a bunch of dumbasses. At Horner (their previous high school) you would have been the first girl asked. Shit, if you weren't my sister..." he stopped, blushing.

"What, Bert? What if I wasn't your sister? C'mon, tell me," she wheedled; "It's just us here. I won't tell anyone, and I won't hold it against you, I promise. C'mon, tell me, please."

Bert looked at her, shaking his head, and kept walking, stomping up the lane as if he was carrying a heavy load. "I... I..." He stopped and turned to face her. She caught her breath, looking at her brother. Their coloring, inherited from their mother, was similar, dark hair, blue eyes, fair complexion, normally. At the moment, the six-foot teenager's was bright red with embarrassment.

"If you ever tell anybody, I'll say it's a lie, but, if you weren't my sister, I'd ask you to be my girlfriend," and with that, he turned and started to run toward the house.

Gobsmacked, Anni stood still, watching him run away. Y took the opportunity to drop into one of the deep wrinkles in her backpack, to think about what he had heard.

Sister--close female relation of the same generation, born of the same pair of parents; variants: half-sister - one parent in common; step sister - acquired by marriage between parent and other adult with female offspring male equivalents: brother, half brother, step brother

Girlfriend--female with whom male can expect to engage in sexual activities ranging from hand holding to variants of reproductive sex.

Question—why does being sister preclude being girlfriend? Must investigate.

Since the male sibling seemed to have the biggest problem with sister vs girlfriend status (based on what Y had observed in the bus), Y carefully insinuated himself into the teenager's mind and began to look for clues as to why the two statuses seemed to be mutually exclusive.

Scanning the teen's education engrammes, he found only a brief discussion on the genetic problems which 'might' be the result of 'extensive' inbreeding from an early high school science class. Y quickly dismissed this as the cause for the attitude since not everyone had to study that course, and it seemed the prejudice predated that exposure.

The sentience looked back a couple of years, to the immediately prepubescent period. Here he discovered a lot of teasing about what his friends would do if Anni was their sister, and questions about whether or not he had 'fucked' her (an obscene colloquialism for engaging in sexual intercourse, his language banks translated for him). This question usually elicited feelings of anger, jealousy, arousal and shame.

The shame seemed to be tied to all things associated with any interest in the feminine body, and stemmed to an incident when he had walked in on his mother while she was changing her clothes. As soon as he had seen her in her underwear, stunned, he had frozen in place. His mother had looked up and seen him at that instant, and, surprised, mistakenly thought he had been there for some time.

Embarrassed, she had given him a gentle but strict talking to about how it wasn't proper for him to be peeking at women and girls, especially her and his sister, while they dressed or bathed, a talk which was repeated more forcefully by his father. Feeling ashamed, he had not tried to explain or defend himself.

The sense of shame was compounded by an incident a few years earlier when he had walked in on his parents while they were still in bed. Since they were covered, Bert had not seen anything, but their reactions were enough to frighten the six year-old.

The next summer, when his family was visiting his Uncle's farm, he and a year-older cousin were discovered by the uncle, in the barn, engaged in the activity humorously described by older children as 'playing doctor.' With a shout and a swat to Bert's bare ass, the uncle ended the cousins' game of show and tell. Later, when the adults thought the kids were asleep, he heard them discussing and laughing about it. That was the first time he heard the word incest. .

The sentience, figuratively, blinked. In spite of his exposure to several years of TV and radio broadcasts, he was unfamiliar with the term. Searching his mental data banks, the only references he found were in a legal context, indicating the word referred to an illegal activity, but there had never been any explanatory information.

He examined the word itself, conjecturing about what it meant, but not why it was wrong: in - cest—the negative connotation began with the first syllable, the negative 'in', and proceeded with the second syllable, the extended sibilance of the 'c' and 's', reminiscent of the sound of the hated snake, followed by the hard stop of the 't', as if the speaker were attempting to spit out a putrid taste.

However, in Albert's cerebral library, it lay in close proximity to the word *fuck*, as well as many others which the sentience had learned on his journey, from the TV and radio signals, were considered as obscene. From this, he inferred that incest was used to refer to the act of sexual intercourse between family members not legally married to each other, and judged to be taboo and illegal.

This puzzled the traveler. On his world, it was the role of mothers and unwed sisters to properly school the young males approaching maturity in the proper techniques and methods of pleasing their mates to ensure a happy home life and healthy offspring.

In a like manner, it was the duty of the male side of the family to instruct the younger females as they neared the age of child bearing. The occasional rare progeny of such unions were welcomed as blessings upon the family.

Y decided to wait and watch, to see if he could garner more information about the ban, and to see if he could determine the nature of the relationships in the small family.

Albert had a three-stride head start before Anni was able to get her feet to move after his declaration. She took off after him and caught up to him just as he started up the steps to the porch. She ran up the steps beside him, purposely bumping his arm with her shoulder whenever she could.

He reached up, found the key on the lintel, and, In spite of his sister's interference, he was able to get the door unlocked. When they got inside, she moved to stand in front of him, blocking his way. "I'd have said yes," she stated and turned and ran upstairs to her room, leaving her brother as stunned as she had been.

If Y had had a head, he'd have been shaking it. "So much wasted sexual energy. Must find a way to help this sibling pair release it and enjoy this period of youthful excitability. He considered the situation an example of racial immaturity and resolved to find a way to elevate this pair, if not the family, to what he deemed a more mature and accepting level.

Based on Anni's statement, he regarded her already as more mature and accepting of the possibility of mating with her brother, provided there were no offspring. He would have to find a way to convince the male.




Close Encounter



The two teens stayed apart for the remainder of the afternoon, studying, until it was time to start preparations for dinner. Meeting in the kitchen, they found their mother had left instructions for them to make a meat loaf, put together a salad, and peel potatoes to cook and mash. They played rock-paper-scissors to see who did the meat. Anni won.

As she gathered the ingredients, she watched her brother, busy peeling the spuds. She debated with herself if she should tell him what she had heard about Kelly that morning. Finally, she asked, "Bert, do you like Kelly, as a girlfriend, I mean?"

"I don't know. She's okay, I guess. It's just, she asked, and..." he hesitated, not sure if he should tell his sister what Kelly had implied.

"Suggested you might have some... fun, afterwards?"

Bert looked up at Anni, surprised. "Yeah; sort of. How did you know?"

"This morning, I heard some girls talking about her and laughing while I was in the bathroom. Apparently Kelly's been shopping her cherry around to get a date for the Prom. Rumor is she finally talked Sonny Snell into taking her."

"Sonny?" he snorted. "That nerd! He's gonna get his nose out of his books long enough to go to a dance? I wonder if he'd even know how to..." Bert blushed.

Anni laughed. With her head down, supposedly looking at her meatloaf, she quietly asked, "Would you?"

He hesitated before he gave her a sly smile. "Sally Waites and I figured it out, cherry and all. Did you know her birthday is the day after ours?"

Anni's eyes got large with wonder. "You didn't! Sally! Goody-two-shoes Sally, who said the only thing getting in her mouth before she got married was her clarinet? When? C'mon, Bro, details!"

"Last semester, the senior history project we were assigned to do with another student; she was my partner, remember. Once a week, over lunch, we'd go to her house so we could combine our notes and work on it.

"She had found some material dealing with sexual contact between the classes in feudal England, and the landed Nobles' right to have any of their serf women on the night before she was married, or as soon after it was discovered if they concealed the wedding.

"She said she wondered what it would be like to be taken that way, being forced to submit, legally raped. In a sort of joking way, I said, 'Mistress Waites, as your Lord and Master, I command you to remove your clothing.' Her eyes got huge, and she looked shocked and sort of frightened, then she stood up and took off her clothes. You can imagine the rest."

"Wow! That's all it took? Was that the only time you two did it?" Bert shook his head, and started to say something, but they heard a car outside and then the sound of a car door and footsteps on the porch. They glanced at the clock. Their mother, Debbie, wasn't due home for another half hour.

When the doorbell rang, both jumped, startled and headed for the door. It was their Uncle Jesse, landlord and owner of the farm where Albert worked weekends. "Uncle Jess? What...is something wrong?" Bert asked, anxiety and curiosity in his voice.

"No, boy, there's nothing wrong. I brought over your pay for the past two weeks, 'cuz your Aunt Marie and I are going away for the weekend." He handed Bert a small envelope with fifty dollars in it. "And I need you to give me a ride back to the farm.

"Your Aunt finally convinced me to buy a new truck for the farm, and since the old one didn't have any trade value, she said I should give it to you, and I figgered she was right. You been doing a good job, 'n' you're on time even though you gotta walk two miles to get to the farm, even in the bad weather, and I haven't heard you complain about it.

"This old beat up Toyota will make it a little easier on ya. Won't win ya any races, but it's got four good tires and don't cost much to run. Right now, it's registered to the farm, and covered by the farm insurance. Long as you're responsible, we can keep it that way; be some easier for you and your ma. Get me back now, I gotta get packed," he finished, handing Bert the keys.

"Wow, Uncle Jess! Thanks; this is gonna make life for all of us a lot easier. I know Mom's gonna really appreciate it, too." Bert spoke as they walked to the 2000 Toyota Tacoma, his heart pounding with joy.

"Well, it ain't much, but with care, it'll get you to and from town for school and shopping. This was our errand truck. It's only got an 1800 pound payload, more'n enough for you guys, I reckon, but not for the farm except for running errands, and it's passable on gas, about sixteen or eighteen miles to the gallon.

"When Marie and I were just starting out here, we bought it for the family. Your cousins were five and six, and we'd take them shopping or to the drive-in with us, so we got the extended cab. It cuts down on the bed size a mite, but it's never been a bother. And I put on the cap for you. It was just taking up space in the barn. You'll appreciate it when you go shopping; for the farm, it was easier without it.

"Now, tomorrow and Sunday, I need you just to come over and feed the stock, morning and afternoon. Hank's gonna come over and do the milking. He'll be here at seven and four, if you can give him a hand."

"I know I can help with the four o'clock, and I'll try to get over in the morning, but I got a ton of homework, and Mom insists we have it done Friday night so it isn't hanging over our head all weekend."

"Smart woman. Don't worry, but if you can help, I know Hank would appreciate it. Thanks for the lift. Take care of your ride now, it should last another five or ten years with care."

"I will, Uncle Jess; thanks, again, and have a good weekend. Tell Aunt Marie I said thank you, too." Jesse Goode nodded and waved as he turned to walk into his house as Bert dropped the car into second and gently pulled away.

As soon as Bert had reached the door and recognized his uncle, Y had made the connection and connected with the farmer's brain. Jesse Goode was a good, Christian man, who believed in a day's work for a day's wage. He paid his help fairly, and rewarded sustained good work with raises, and, on a few occasions, had lowered an employee's rate if they were slacking off. True slackers left when that happened; good workers accepted the message and improved.

He had originally given Bert his job more out a sense of charity than really needing his help on the farm, but the boy had proved himself a man, taking on responsibility and delivering, sometimes more than his share. Already inclined to reward the lad somehow, it had taken a minimal nudge from Y to make Uncle Jess accept the suggestion he attributed to Aunt Marie and give the stranded family some badly needed transportation.

Bert got back to the drive just as Debra Goode was getting out of her ride's car. She rode every day with another woman who worked in the church office, where Debbie was the church secretary, and paid her what it would have cost if she could take the bus, ten dollars a week. Since the woman didn't have to go out of her way, she said that was more than enough; that she was glad for the company.

The driver had just pulled away and Debbie was a few yards up the lane when Albert pulled up beside her, lightly tapping on the almost inaudible horn. "Hey, lady, want a ride?" he called through the open window.

She was about to scold the brash driver of the familiar looking truck for trespassing when she recognized her son. "Albert! Whose truck is this and why are you driving it?"

"It's mine, ours, I guess. Uncle Jesse gave it to me. Get in." He pushed open the door for her. "Dinner should be about ready. I'll tell you all about it while we eat. You're home early?"

"Mmhmm; the printer got the bulletin back to us early today. Once we had it folded and assembled, there wasn't anything pressing to do, so Reverend Jacobs said we could leave. How was school?"

Anni had heard the conversation on the porch when Uncle Jess had told Albert he was giving her brother a truck. When Uncle Jess had said Albert needed to drive him home, she had just waved him on, and returned to the kitchen to continue fixing dinner by herself, her heart soaring. Now, with transportation, she and her brother were no longer social isolates; they would be able to attend school activities.

By the time she finished the meat loaf and got it in the oven, the potatoes on, and put together the salad, her brother hadn't returned yet, so she start- ed cleaning up the kitchen. She had just finished washing up the few dishes when she heard a car and two doors slam. She was at the front door before her brother and mother were up the stairs.

"Is it true? He actually gave you the small truck, the one with the extended cab?"

"Yep. And it's registered and insured. Sorry I ran out on getting dinner, but..."

"That's okay; what you had to do was more important. Oh, Mom, isn't it great?"

"I don't know, Anni. I'm waiting to hear what happened. Bert said he'd tell me while we ate. How's it coming?"

"By the time you get changed into something more comfortable, it should be ready to come out of the oven. By then, Bert and I will have the table set and we can eat and hear his wonderful story."

(An hour or so later) "...and he said as long as I don't get into trouble with it, he'll keep it registered as part of his fleet, which also covers the insurance."

"I'm proud of you, honey. Your hard work has paid off, and will certainly help the family..."

"Just too bad it didn't come a couple of weeks sooner, huh, Bert?"

"It's hardly the kind of vehicle you take a girl to a formal dance in, but..."

"What dance?" Debbie asked.

"One of the junior class girls asked Bert to take her to the prom tomorrow night, but he had to say no because he didn't have anyway to go."

"Oh, Bert; I'm sorry. Was she someone you're interested in?"

"No, I hardly know her; it just would have been fun to go to a formal dance."

"Good thing you're not interested in that skinny skank..."

"She's not a skank; skinny, but not skanky," he said with a laugh.

Anni flushed with anger. "Any girl who has the gall to offer her cherry to half the school just to go to a dance is a skank in my opinion."

"Anni!" exclaimed Debbie.

"Well, what would you call her, then?"

Debbie fought back a smile. "Desperate." She looked at her son. "Did she make you that offer?"

"Not in those words. She asked if I had a date for the prom. When I said no, before I could explain why, she asked if I would take her and then said, afterward, we could drive out to lake and have some real fun, with no limits on what I could do. She didn't say anything about her cherry, just no limits."

Y sensed the mother was about to tell her son it was good that he hadn't been able to take a girl who was so desperate to the dance, and instead pushed her to ask her children, "I know it has been a while since we've discussed proper sexual behavior, but are either of you active, that way?"

While Anni simply shook her head no, Bert replied, somewhat abashedly, "Active, no, but I've had sex a couple of times with a girl in our class at school ."

Debbie's eyebrows raised slightly, then she nodded, pensive, before asking, "Anni, have you..."

The teen interrupted her, "No, Mom. I did give a couple of guys hand jobs, and one of the football players at Horner tried to make me go down on him at an after game dance, but a teacher came around before he actually got it out. When I told the teacher what he was trying to do, he tried to say I agreed to do it, but when some other girls came forward later that night, to say he'd forced them, too, at other dances, he got kicked out of school. That was just before Daddy got so sick."

"I'm so sorry, Sweetie; I guess I got so caught up with your father, I sort of lost track of what was going on with you two.

"This will be the third big dance you two have missed, and that isn't fair. I know it won't be the same, but what if we have our own dance, right here, tomorrow night. We can move the dining room and living room furniture to the sides of the room to make a dance floor, and we'll get dressed up, and have some punch and snacks, and choose some good dance music..."

"Yesss!" Anni cried. "That sounds so cool! Can we really do it?"

His mother looked at Bert. "Bert," she asked, "what do think? Do you want to take us girls to the Goode family prom?"

He grinned and nodded. "Then I can finally use those dance classes they made us take when we were sophomores."

"Okay, then; I'll clean up from dinner. You two, go get your homework done. Bert, you'll need to get up and go help Hank with the morning milking, and tell him I surprised you with some chores so you can't help tomorrow afternoon, but you will be there the next day. Now, off with the both of you."

The next morning, the milking took Bert and Hank a bit over an hour to milk the dozen dairy cows and then the clean up took another half hour. Bert was home and sitting down to breakfast by nine o'clock. "Hank said no problem with this afternoon, and thanked me for my help this morning. He said I was a big help, especially with the recording. Did you know each cow's output is recorded every day? And after, we have to steam clean and sanitize every milk machine. I got the other stock their morning feed while I was there, 'n' Hank said he'd take care of them this afternoon for me."

Debbie silently laughed at his exuberance. Bert had been the dictionary picture for taciturn since his father had died, but last night and today, since he got the truck, it was like he was trying to use all the words he had kept bottled up inside.

"That's good, Bert. After breakfast, we need to run into town to get some stuff for our dance tonight. You'll have to drive me; I haven't driven a stick shift since I got my first license. When you're done, go change your clothes and run a comb through your hair; it looks like a bird's nest," she said, running her hand through it affectionately.

He pulled his head away from her hand, laughing. "Okay! What stores?"

"Grocery, the Dollar store, Walgreens," she paused, considering, "and the package store."

"The package store? Why?"

"I thought I'd get something for the punch. Is that okay?"

His grin flashed his approval. "I'll be right back down."

Bert, like many who lived and worked on farms, was acutely aware of the weather and its vicissitudes. On the way home he noticed the clouds on the western horizon. "Looks like a storm's coming, tonight or tomorrow."

"Well," said Debbie, "we could use a little rain. I just hope its nothing more than a small thunderstorm."

"Me, too. Gotta have electricity to play the music," he grinned, causing her to smile, as they turned by the big oak at the end of their driveway.

While Bert and Debbie went shopping, Anni busied herself getting the house ready for the dance. As much as she was able, she pushed the larger furniture to the sides of the room and then fit the smaller pieces between them. Next, she covered the lamp shades with colored tissue paper, leaving enough room open at the top so the heat could escape. Those with switches inside the shade, she unplugged after turning them on.

With as much done as she could do alone, she went into the kitchen to start on snacks and the punch. She began by making the ice ring for the punch. After that, digging into the fridge, she found some bologna, salami, and cream cheese, with which she made some of her favorite appetizers. She had just finished cutting and plating them when she heard her mother and brother pull up at the back door.

Anni quickly put the snacks she had made in the fridge and ran out to help them grab the bags from the back of the truck. Once inside, both her mother and brother commented on how much she had been able to get done. Debbie suggested they have lunch and then continue with dance preparations. They would have dinner about five and then have leisure time to dress and get ready.

They were done, to their satisfaction, by four. While the women fixed dinner, Bert went through their CDs, selecting a mix of modern pop and classic dance music for them to choose from over dinner. When they were done, they had eight discs, totaling nearly seven hours of music, almost two thirds of which could be classified as 'romantic.'

After dinner, Debbie sent Bert off to shower and shave while she and Anni cleaned up the kitchen and put together the punch. When she was sure he was out of earshot, Debbie looked at her daughter. "Sweetie," she asked (very much under the influence of Y), "if the opportunity came up tonight, would you want to lose your virginity?"

"Mom! What kind of question is that?" Anni answered, shocked and embarrassed.

"A serious one. Proms are often the occasion when girls become women. So, if Bert showed the interest and willingness, would you want him to..."

"Mother! He's my brother! How can you..."

"Your father and I were first cousins," she interrupted, speaking softly. "We grew up together, lived together as children from when I was five until I finished junior high school. Eight, almost nine, years.

"My father was serving in the military, in Europe satisfying his ROTC obligation. When his first full enlistment was up, he decided to stay in. By the time he was a captain, and seriously considering making it a career," she went on, speaking softly; "they found Mom's cancer, pretty far advanced. That's when he resigned his commission to take care of me and your uncle, Tony.

"So, for seven years your father and I were as close as you and Bert. We wound up at the same university and when we met, it was like the time we were apart never happened. We got married without telling the families when I got pregnant with you two, and never worried about it again.

"Now, I ask again, if the opportunity arose, would you want Bert to take your cherry?"

"You really wouldn't have a problem with us doing it?"

"Well, let's look at the alternatives. Tonight, you'd be safe at home, in a comfortable bed, with a man, albeit with limited experience, who cares for and about you. Compare that with the back seat of a car, parked god knows where, with a guy more likely out for bragging rights and looking more to get himself off than you. Which would you want for your daughter?"

"Even though the first guy is my brother?"

"Sweetie, what goes on behind our front door is no one's business but ours. The only concern is you not getting pregnant. We stopped at the drug store and I bought some condoms for Bert. You just have to make sure he uses them."

"What if he doesn't want to fuck me?"

"Anni, he's a guy," her mother replied, emphasizing the last word. She chuckled and continued, "I'll admit, sometimes he can be a little stuffy, especially for someone as young as he is, and even more especially about things related to sex. I was surprised when he admitted he'd already ..."

"Probably because he'd already confessed that to me earlier."

"Really? More surprises. Anyway, if we both work on him while we're dancing to the slow music... Just dance as close as you can, rubbing your chest and hips on him. If you feel him get an erection, concentrate your rubbing on it. Another thing, no underwear tonight, and your dress needs to be knee length if you have one. If you don't, I may have one that'll fit you."

"Oh, why?"

"Mystery. We just want to hint that we're going commando, not confirm it until he's committed himself.

"Ahhh; the water's turned off. You go shower while I go talk to him, to get him thinking about making love to you."

"What about you, Momma? Shouldn't you have someone, too?"

Debbie's breath caught in her throat momentarily. "Some other time, Anni. Tonight is for you."

They walked up the backstairs together; Anni stopping in her room to get ready for her shower, while Debbie went on to talk to Bert. Y prompted her to go on to her own room, where she stripped out of her clothes and put her old cotton robe on, over her nudity. As she tied it around her waist, she wondered at her actions, then thought how much Bert might get turned on and smiled as she knocked on his door.




Close Encounter



When she heard Bert call "Who..." she opened the door, to find her son standing in the middle of his room, nude, with his clothing for the evening's events laid out on the bed.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, taking in his well developed physique. "I wanted to talk to you before we began the festivities, but I see this isn't a good time. Could you put on a robe and come to my room?" she asked, with a smile, watching his manhood react to the situation.

"Uh, sure, Mom. Right now?" he asked, a blush appearing all over his body as his staff reacted to his mother's presence, and her obvious scrutiny.

"Yes, I want to get it over before your sister gets out of the shower." She turned, leaving his door open, to return to her room.

Bert caught up with her just as she got back to her door. They sat down on the edge of her bed, facing each other. Bert had a hard time not looking at her body, almost totally on display. Her robe had fallen to both sides of her thighs, displaying her well-shaped legs.

Similarly, from the waist up, the robe gapped, exposing the sides and bottoms of her B-cups. Her nipples were visible, trying to poke through the thin material of her robe, and, if not for her hands holding her robe closed in her lap, he thought he would have been able to see her dark thatch.

Debbie smiled as she watched his eyes dancing over her body. By the time he got control of them and looked her in the eye, she had put on her fun--mother face. "Tonight, I want you to act like you are our date, not our son and brother. Do you understand?"

"Uhh, I'm not sure. What do you mean?"

"When we're dancing, hold us close; flirt with us; do to and for us the kind of things you would do if we were your steady girlfriend, and had gone to the Prom. Don't call me Mom, or ma, or anything sounding like mother. Call me Debbie or Deb, or Bette, my middle name."

Bert's eyes opened in surprise. "Uhh, are you sure? I mean, I heard guys talking at Horner about some of the things they did and got away with when they were dancing; not the kind of things you'd do with your mom."

Debbie smiled. "I remember; I was a teenager once, you know. And tonight, you remember--I'm not your mom, and Anni's not your sister. You are with two dates tonight, both of whom expect you, and want you, to, what did we call it, 'get fresh' with us."

Bert swallowed hard. "Expect and want me to...Are you sure, Mom?"

"Mmhmm. And if you play your cards right, you won't regret not going to the dance with Miss Skanky what's-her-name. Be respectful, but be bold. Treat us like we are really on a date with you, okay? Do you think you can do that?"

Bert nodded his head. "Yeah, I guess...so nudgies, just not gross, huh?"

Debbie stood up and extended her hand. "Even a little more than a nudge. Here, let me show you. This isn't for the first dance, but then, not too much later, either." She pulled him up and extended her arms into the position for dancing. He stepped up to her and took her right hand while putting his right around her and into the small of her back.

She reached around and pulled his right hand down so it rested on top of her buttock. At the same time she pulled his left hand into the space between them, so the back of his hand rested firmly against her right breast.

"Hold me closer," she whispered into his ear as she nibbled on his earlobe; "much closer." She grinned when she felt his erection against her abdomen, and pushed her hips closer to him.

"Mo..." he started and stopped when she shook her head, holding his earlobe in her teeth. "Debbie, if I hold you any closer, we're gonna be fu...uh, having sex," he groaned.

"Your point?" she asked, tracing his ear with her tongue.

Before he could say anything, she pulled away. "Now do you understand? If you had been able to go to the dances at Horner, you would have learned that a little bit of getting fresh is expected, pretty much with whoever you were dancing with. With your date, it's expected, and the limits depend on the girl and the status of your relationship. Tonight, you have to find those limits for yourself, and do your best to extend them," she finished, with a seductive smile.

"I'm gonna wind up with such a case of blue balls..." he started to complain.

Debbie laughed. "That's up to you. I told you, if you play your cards right, you won't miss Kelly at all. Just pay attention to your dates. Now go get dressed, and then, set up the music."

Bert was selecting the first three discs to play when the women came down the stairs. He looked up when he heard them and had to gasp to take a breath. Although there was nearly a twenty year difference in their ages, they could have been twin sisters.

Debbie had her hair in her usual pixie cut, but her make-up, accenting her sapphire blue eyes and barely highlighting her lips and cheeks, gave her a youthful glow. She wore a black, shift like dress, with spaghetti straps. It seemed to be suspended from the nipples on her B-plus sized breasts, and ended just above her knees, closely hugging her hips.

Anni's hair, normally in a ponytail, fell freely from a pair of french combs holding it back from her ears. Her make-up, like her mother's, accented her sky blue eyes, and subtly highlighted her lips and cheeks, adding an intangible maturity to her youthful look, enhanced by the black halter dress she wore. The knee length skirt was made up of mini-pleats which anchored a pair of narrow sashes just inside her hips and fastened behind her neck, just covering her almost B-sized bosoms.

"Oh, shit!" he exclaimed, under his breath. Sure, his mother had essentially given him permission to take some liberties with her, and said it would not only also be okay with Anni, but was expected.

But, Ohmigod! Right now, it felt like if he got within a yard of them, they'd feel his hard-on. How in hell was he going to dance with them without embarrassing himself and them. As it was, he didn't even dare stand up.

And what the hell was it with his mother? Practically promising that he'd get to fuck one of them tonight. That had to be what she meant when she said he wouldn't regret not going to the dance with Kelly after their conversation over dinner. How could he fuck his mom? That was so wrong on so many levels.

Even though she worked for the church in town, she didn't force the kids to go to services, and the pastor understood their transportation situation and didn't get bent out of shape when she didn't show up for Sunday services either, so Bert wasn't too clear about the god thing. But still the kind of thing she was hinting at was a sin, wasn't it?

What if she meant Anni. That was a slightly different story. He had meant it when he told her if she wasn't his sister, he'd ask her to be his girlfriend. He thought there wasn't a prettier girl in the county, and she played a significant role in his stroke fantasies, but to actually go all the way? Or even just part way!

Shit, that was just as bad as fucking your mother in terms of being a sin. Maybe worse. Doing your mom--as a kid, you could always claim she made you do it, but with your sister, even if she was working on seducing you, you should be able to say no.

Y had been able to tune into Bert's quandary. Trying not to influence him directly, as he had Anni and Debbie, he stirred up Bert's memories, of all the schoolmates who had commented on his mother and sister, and what they claimed they would be doing if they were in his place.

As they poured forth, into his consciousness, Bert wondered if he were the only member of his peer group who wasn't a closet incestuous pervert. It seemed as if all his friends had no problem with incest as a behavior or sin. He wondered if all the guys who said they wanted to fuck his sister had already fucked their own.

Suddenly, he realized he had been staring at his 'dates' without saying anything for too long. Opting for brevity instead of explanation, he simply said, "Wow!" and then, in case he hadn't made it clear, "Wowowow!"

The women laughed, and Debbie said, "I think that means he approves, Anni. Our date, I guess, is a man of few words."

Bert recovered his faculty for speech and interrupted, "You ladies are absolutely gorgeous. We should be going to some night club in Hollywood or something, except I'd never get to dance with you or even talk to you once we got inside. The men would be falling all over themselves to get to dance with you."

Debbie smiled in response to his compliment, and Anni blushed. "Do you really think so, Bert" his sister asked.

He nodded. "I've never seen you look prettier, Anni," he said softly.

"Thank you, Bert," she said, moving to him and reaching up to give him a lingering kiss on the cheek. "Put on something slow we can dance to," she requested.

"Uh, okay, in a few minutes. I thought maybe, uh, something a little up tempo would, uh, help us, uh, get used to the atmosphere 'n' stuff; you know, help us, uh, settle our nerves and get the refreshments out...'n' stuff...I think the, uh, third song is a slow one," he said, hopin the time and activity would help his tent pole collapse a bit.

She gave him another kiss on the cheek. "That's okay. It's mine, though; don't forget." She turned away from him to join Debbie, on her way to the kitchen. Only then did he realize both their backs were bare.

Debbie's dress had a inch and a half band across her shoulder blades, connecting the sides of her dress and anchoring the thin shoulder straps, but her back was essentially as naked as Anni's, who had nothing between her neck and her waist.

Bert's hard-on, which had begun to wilt, was back in full force. As they walked away, their ass cheeks bouncing merrily under their form outlining skirts, he let out a small moan, guessing they had come to the dance sans panties.

With a knowing smile, Debbie glanced back over her shoulder, standing there in the typical nude model's pose. "You okay, honey? Did you say something?" He just shook his head and started loading the CD player.

It was an eclectic mix--modern pop (thanks to the teens), classic 50's romance (thanks to their dad), and some dance-able tunes from the 80-90'S (thanks to Debbie). Contrary to what he told Anni, the first five or six tunes, a solid twenty minutes of music, was all up-tempo, more suited for today's style of dancing than the coupled ballroom dancing Anni was waiting for.

It took the trio a few minutes to set out the refreshments and punch (a lethal mix of two parts brandy to one part sweetened lime juice poured over the ice ring and stirred). "Be careful of this," Debbie warned her children, giving them each a small cupful; "it doesn't taste like it has any kick, but I know that three of these, in an hour, can put me under the table. Neither of you should have any more than that tonight. Okay?"

They took a small sip of the punch, testing its sweet and sour tea-like flavor. "Are you sure the brandy was alright, Debbie?" Bert asked. "This tastes like there's no alcohol in it at all."

She picked up the empty bottle and poured out the few drops which had accumulated at the bottom of the empty vessel and handed it to him. She grinned when he gasped for breath after slamming the half -shot sample. "OMG," he rasped. "That felt like pure alcohol!"

"Now do you believe me?" his mother asked. The two teens nodded. "Fine. Now, let's dance!" she said with a grin, and began to move her feet and sway her hips to the music as she dragged her children to the middle of the floor.

The music, the activity, the good humor, some light hearted silliness as they moved to the primitive rhythms all helped put the small family in party mode. By the time Nat 'King' Cole's velvet voice singing "Unforgettable" came on, they were all ready for some quiet interludes.

Bert turned to Anni, saying, "I think this is your dance." She beamed her smile and stepped into his arms. Thinking about what his mother had shown him earlier, Bert dropped his hand to rest on Anni's butt.

Debbie walked behind her daughter and pulled it back up, shaking her head. "Not yet," she mouthed at him. Bert gave her a brief nod and let his other hand relax, resting it on his partner's breast, and was pleased when she pulled it tighter to her.

"Mmm," she said, "this feels nice. We couldn't do this if we had gone to the school dance, could we?" She moved close to him and rested her head on his chest.

"Probably not. They'd have thought we were some kind of bizarro weirdniks or something." As he led his sister around the floor in the slow dance, he became aware of her thighs rubbing against the inside and outside of his left leg. Trying to remain a gentleman in the early part of the evening, he attempted to back away, only to become re-entangled seconds later as she pushed her mons against his thigh.

"Don't go away," Anni whispered. "This feels nice; so does this," she added, pressing his hand to her boob. "Doesn't it feel good to you?"

"Mmhmm," he murmured, "too good. I'm afraid I might embarrass us."

"You mean here?" she asked, pushing her hips against his and giving them a shimmy.

Up near the ceiling, in a corner where it was dark, Y, had he been able, would have smiled and nodded his approval. As the children became involved with each other, he bounced down and insinuated himself in Debbie's sub-conscious and cranked up her libido and desire for sex.

As the song came to an end, the sentience subtly moved to the daughter and urged her to leave the room. While she was in the bathroom, he made the same changes to her as he had Debbie. Back in living room, the sound of the Four Lads singing 'Moments to Remember' prompted the older woman to move into her son's arms.

She hummed her approval as he pulled his left hand in to rest on her breast while his right slid down to stop just where her butt began to swell. When he applied a little pressure there, she pushed her hips forward, into his, her thighs parting to bracket his. "You're naughty," she whispered, kissing his neck and renewing her earlier attack on his ear lobe.

"Mmm, very naughty," she repeated when she felt his hardness pushing against her abdomen. "You'll probably have to go to the bathroom sometime tonight. I want you to promise me you won't try to relieve this by yourself," she said softly, sliding her hips across the prominent bulge in his pants. "Promise?" she said, pushing harder. All Bert could get out was a groan.

Fortunately, the next few songs were more modern, hip hop style and gave him some surcease from the teasing the women were subjecting him to, if only briefly. During this brief break, he excused himself to use the bathroom. As he headed down the hall, Debbie called, "Remember your promise!" In reply he just waved.

"What promise," Anni asked.

"While we were dancing, he popped a boner and I made him promise that he wouldn't try to take care of it by himself," Debbie answered with a sly smile as she walked to the entertainment center.

"Mother, you are so mean," Anni replied with a laugh. "Do you think he will anyway?"

"Probably not, but just in case, I'm going to stack our odds. Take out the CDs of today's pop music, and we'll put in all slow dance music from your father's collections. That'll give us more opportunity to heat him up."

She looked at her daughter, obviously mulling something over. "Question for you. I know I said tonight was just for you, but do you want him all to yourself, or would you consider a threesome?"

"A...A... A threesome? You mean you and me and Bert? Wow! I never... how...I mean ..."

"I understand,' she said, with a smile. "We would both make love to your brother, my son, and after, while he rested and recovered, we would... until he could go another round, entertain each other. You're not unfamiliar with the concept are you?"

"No; just the mother-daughter part, but why not?" she answered with a grin. "If I'm going to fuck my brother, it isn't such a big leap to doing my mother. Maybe we should start that way and really wind Bert up," she laughed.

"And you call me mean?" Debbie replied, joining her laugh.

Y, understanding the biological processes of the human body, waited for Bert in the excretorium, as it was termed on his world. Before exerting his influence on the young male, he was interested in learning how his feelings about the night were developing.

Bert, as it happened, was struggling with a crisis of conscience. From what Debbie had said, and the way Anni was acting, he was sure they were expecting him to fuck his sister tonight. On a very basic, primitive level, he had no problem with that. "Shit," he thought, "on a purely animal level, the way Mom's acting, I wouldn't have any problem fucking her, either.

"But, on a higher level, the one that separates us from animals, it's wrong, isn't it, to even think about doing that to them. They're blood relatives—my mother and sister, and fucking those relatives is incest, both legally wrong and morally repugnant, isn't it?

"Hell, if it's so morally repugnant, why am I debating with myself? It shouldn't be a problem. Just say NO!

"But if they are both willing, and they certainly acted like they are, doesn't that take away some of the negativity?

"No, if anything, it just makes it worse. Mother fucker is practically the worst insult you can lay on a man; imagine how the woman who willfully fucked her son would be viewed—what's worse than a slut?

"Could I do that to my mother and ...

"Who would know? It's just the three of us here, and no one else within a couple of miles. Hell, we could go out and fuck on the front lawn and no one would know about it. 'Specially if it was dark.

"But she's my mother! You just don't fuck your mother!

"Do you? Everyone says you should listen to your mother and do what she says. Dad made me promise to do that.

"Even when it's wrong?

"But who says it's wrong? A bunch of guys a long long long time ago, when there were different issues facing them. When property rights were more important, and lines of heredity had to be kept clean.

"That's why Egyptian royalty were expected to have children with their siblings—to keep the line pure; and European royalty were pretty much all from the same family, marrying cousins and all.

"Fuck it! If it was good enough for them, I can do it! She said tonight she's not my mother, and Anni's not my sister; they're my dates, and I should treat them just like any other date. Well I was gonna fuck Kelly three ways from Sunday, so, Anni, I hope you're ready."

If you can imagine a photon of ultra violet energy doing joyful back flips, you have a fairly good idea of Y's state of mind at this point. He followed the young man back to the dance floor and parked back in his ceiling corner to watch the activities.

Debbie and Anni were bopping to Frank's 'Come Dance With Me,' and when they saw him return, pulled him into a three way dance. "You okay, Sweetie?" Debbie asked. In reply, he pulled her to him and put his arms around her waist, dropping them to rest on her ass and pulling her hips into his, and nodded before kissing her passionately and letting her go, then reaching for Anni.

The music changed to an instrumental version of the Crystal Gayle song, 'When I Dream.' "This is one of my favorite songs," Anni whispered as she tucked her head into his shoulder As they danced, she softly hummed to the verse and then sang along to the chorus, "But when I dream, I dream of you / Maybe some day you will come true...And when I dream, I dream of you / Maybe someday, you'll love me, too.

"Be my boyfriend tonight, Bert," she whispered as the song ended. "Let's do what girlfriends and boyfriends do at dances and after," she said softly, her lips moving on his cheek. She pressed his hand firmly into her breast, then moved it so his hand was under her halter sash, covering her bare breast. He turned his face to kiss her cheek and met her mouth, already open for his tongue.




Close Encounter



Reluctantly, Anni pulled away, breathless. "I want you, Bert. I've wanted to make love with you for a long time, and when you said you'd ask me to be your girlfriend...I want you beside me in bed tonight, and I want to wake up with you beside me, inside me. Will you do that for your girlfriend, Bert?"

"Uhh, what about Mom? I know she's given us permission to explore a little..."

"She'll probably be on the other side of you, just as naked as we are. You really lucked out tonight, boyfriend. You got a horny girlfriend who is willing to share you with her equally horny mom. The question is, are you up to it?"

In reply, he reached down and grabbed her ass and pulled her into his rampant cock. "Oh, yeah." He leaned down to kiss her as they rocked back forth, sort of dancing. The rocking motion rubbed his bulge against her mons, increasing her arousal, and eliciting a deep moan. Bert detected a faint odor, reminding him of his afternoon with his study partner.

He put his mouth next to Anni's ear, and asked, "Are you as ready as I am?" When she groaned and nodded, he said, "Let's get Mom and go upstairs, then." Her smile beamed as she nodded again.

Debbie was at the table, snacking, leaving the kids alone. She was totally surprised when she felt Bert's hand caress the top of her ass and then move down to caress the bottoms of her pear shaped cheeks. She was a little shocked. This was well beyond the level of accepted behavior she had outlined for him earlier.

"Bert, unless you plan on fucking me in the next thirty minutes, that is way beyond getting fresh," she said, shaking her butt.

To her relief, and disappointment, he removed his hand, only to slide it and its mate around her waist and down to the juncture of her thighs. "Hmm. Thirty minutes? That sounds about right," he said, nibbling on the side of her neck.

Somehow, Debbie turned around in Bert's arms without moving off her spot on the floor, and wound up with her arms around his neck and her lips and tongue engaging his. "Oh, baby, are you sure?" she asked when they parted. "Really sure? And you're okay with both of us tonight?"

Instead of saying anything, Bert bent over and grabbed his mother around her thighs and lifted her up so she fell over his shoulder. He then grabbed Anni's hand and headed for the stairs, ignoring Debbie's screams and laughter.

"Bert, you (ha ha) idiot, put (ha ha ha) me down, damn it (ha ha); Bert! Are (ha ha) you listen(ha ha)ing to me? Bert! Put (ha) me down(giggle), please. Bert, no you can't carry me up stairs like this. Put me down right now!"

Her nominal struggles now began to get serious and she began to kick and writhe on his shoulder, forcing him to halt and set her down on the bottom step. Debbie caught her breath and grabbed Anni's hand. "Give us ten minutes, Bert, then come to my room," she managed to get out between breaths, then, pulling her daughter after her, ran upstairs.

With a grin and a sigh, Bert went into the dining room and began putting the snacks and punch away.

As she ran up the stairs, Debbie wondered what she was doing. "Shit, am I really thinking about screwing my son? And in front of my daughter? How depraved is that? I know Anni and I were borderline inappropriate the way we were teasing him, but to go further? To actually have sex with them?

"Them! What am I thinking? I could lose my job, even go to jail if somebody found out. Couldn't I? But who would know? They'd never tell, and our closest neighbor, Jess, is over two miles away, and gone until sometime Monday.

"Christ! How long has it been since...Dan died two years ago, and was impotent for a year before that, so at least three years, and only once or twice a month for the year before that. No fucking wonder I'm ready to screw anything with three legs. But Bert? But, damn, that lump certainly felt delicious, pushing into my belly.

"I could do it just for tonight, and blame it on the punch... and getting him ready for Anni.

"Hell, as wound up as he is, he'll probably come as soon as he smells us; that wouldn't be good for her first time. I can screw him first, kind of blunt his blade, so he lasts longer in her, maybe even make her come. That's what I'll do. Yeah, I'll get him calmed down for her."

She drew Anni to her bed and sat down, patting the bed, indicating Anni should sit, too. "Honey, I think we've created a bit of a horny monster. I think I should have him first, to calm him down so he won't be so impatient for you, and so he'll last longer in you, so that you might have an orgasm," she proposed, a bit breathlessly, nearly gasping for breath between phrases.

"Okay, Momma, if you think that's best. I guess I can wait a few more minutes," she said with a small smile, realizing and regretting that her mother was probably right.

"Are you okay with this, Anni? With the two of us, and with your brother...the whole..."

"Incest thing?" Debbie swallowed hard and nodded. "Momma, I decided when I was fourteen that somehow, I would find a way to get Bert to be my first lover, and I've been trying since then to get him to... I've already popped my cherry myself, physically, so it won't hurt so much and freak him out... I just couldn't figure out how to get him interested in me. I guess I should thank you for that."

Debbie chuckled. "You're welcome, honey. When...and how did you ..."

"My cherry? The night before our eighteenth birthday, hoping I could get Bert to celebrate with me, but...I used a carrot. My hymen must have only been a partial one. There wasn't a lot of pain like you read about, more like a tearing, sort of like when you take a scab off before it's entirely healed, and there wasn't a lot of blood, not even like the last day of my period."

Just then, Bert knocked at the door. "Just another minute, Bert," his mother called. "Get undressed and get under the covers. We won't tell him about your adventure with the carrot. And let me lead; okay, sweetie?"

Anni grinned and stripped off her dress in a single sweeping motion and crawled onto the bed. When she was settled, she looked at her mother and mimed chewing her nails, eliciting a nod and a smile as Debbie pulled her dress over her head.

"Okay, Bert," she called, waiting for him by her dressing table.

The door opened slowly and Bert stuck his head in when it was about a quarter of the way open, to see what the situation is. When he saw his mother nude, waiting for him, he grinned and pushed the door the rest of the way open, revealing his own aroused nudity. As soon as he was in the room, Debbie walked over and kissed him soundly on the lips, totally engaging his whole body in the kiss.

Breaking the kiss, she led him to her king sized bed, to the side opposite from where Anni waited. He looked to his sister, nervously, and started to crawl up on to the bed.

Debbie stopped him, saying, "Me first, Bert. Right now, I'm sort of your tension relief. I think, like most inexperienced men, you're going to climax fairly quickly. If that were to happen while you're making love with Anni, it would be a disappointing first time for both of you.

"If it happens with me, well, I've learned how to cope with it, and can help you take the edge off your need so it's less likely to happen with her. So, come to me, Bert, and let me get you ready for your sister."

Debbie positioned herself on the bed, on her back, in the missionary position, and waited for her son to move between her legs. When he was there, she reached for his staff and guided him to her opening. She could see his excitement in his expression--flushed, wide eyed, irises dilated, nostrils flaring, mouth slightly open, and could hear the soft panting as his adrenalin kicked in.

She reached for his head and pulled him in for a kiss. As their lips met, she felt him reach her vagina, and wrapped her legs around his thighs to pull him into her sheath. As Bert became aware of the moist heat enveloping his cock, he realized what he had done, was doing.

Reflexively, instinctively, he pushed forward, at the same time experiencing competing feelings of elation and despair at what he was doing. As usual, elation won, and almost before he was aware of it, he was spewing his seed all over the inside of his mother's quim.

The feel of the hot fluid splashing on her vaginal walls ignited the flames fueling Debbie's first non-self induced orgasm in nearly four years. It struck her like a combination of a tsunami, an explosion and fireworks all at same time and sweeping over her, physically and emotionally, simultaneously and in alternating waves. In short, she was overwhelmed.

The effect on Bert was similar, if not as intense. He recovered first, to find his mother relatively non-responsive for several seconds, and then only in mono--syllables. Yet, when he attempted to withdraw, her legs and pussy tightened to hold him in place.

As Debbie seemed to become more alert, he felt her pussy walls begin to massage his prick, bringing it back to life. "Wow, Tiger! That happened so fast neither of us got a chance to enjoy it. I think we were both a little over excited. Let 's see if we can last a little longer this time. Is that okay with you, Anni?"

Bert and Debbie glanced at his sister, now kneeling on the bed beside them, where she could see everything, had her eyes been open. Her hands were busy--one pulling her left nipple, the other frigging her clit so fast it was hard to see any thing more than a blur. At the moment, she was so caught up in self-pleasure she didn't hear her mother's question.

Bert and Debbie looked at each other and grinned. The teen leaned down and kissed his mother before saying, "I know it's nasty as hell, but I have to tell you, Mom. I want to fuck the living shit out of you."

In response, Debbie reached up and kissed him passionately again, before saying, "Try! I dare you!"

Up in his corner of the ceiling, Y felt an enormous swell of pride, at least, as much as he was able to feel anything. Sensing his job with the Goode family was done, he exited through the window. In the western sky, cumulonimbus clouds were building up, and flashes of lightening could be seen inside the darkening clouds.

Y was aware of a subtle change in the atmosphere as the air seemed to become charged, and the resulting polarity attempted to pull him apart. He fought the effect and sought to gain some altitude, hoping a bit of distance from the earth would help combat the effect of the polarization he was sensing.

The rain came in huge droplets, fast and furious. Once again, as he had been on his trip through space, he found himself at the mercy of the elements, bounced from surface to surface. In a few seconds, he was near the barn, gathering himself together on the tall iron rod which extended several feet above the roof on his end, and into the ground at the other. Suddenly, the rod received a massive jolt of static electricity in the form of a lightening flash, and our interstellar traveler joined his family in whatever form of paradise they believed in, while a mote of other worldly dust was added to the detritus surrounding the barn.

Due to the lack of any physical evidence, and no testimony supporting the presence or influence of any extra-terrestrial being(s), it is the opinion of the committee that this is a non-event, regardless of the strange and uncharacteristic behavior of the family involved. File closed. Y. Burkis, Close Encounter Investigator



Close Encounter Long Overdue



I'm at a hotel. I have lit candles around the room and the atmosphere is very calming.. I'm waiting for you to arrive... Nervous, anxious and excited, wondering what will happen in those first few moments when we see each other for the first time after all these years...

There is a knock at the door. I open it and there you are. We smile. You look very handsome and my heart skips a beat. You then reach out and take my face in your hands and kiss me. It's a beautiful kiss, soft yet hungry. We stumble into the hallway and you rest me against the wall. Our hands still feeling each other as if they don't believe we are actually in each others presence.

We are still kissing against the wall, I kick my shoes off. You slide your hands along my arms until you find my hands. You hold them and then reach my arms above my head and hold them there while you kiss down my neck. I shiver at your touch. Your hands then follow the shape of my body until they find the back of my neck. You gently squeeze and caress which makes me softly moan. You continue kissing down my body over my clothes until you reach my belly. You nuzzle here for a little bit. It makes me giggle. My hands drop and I run my fingers over your head, gently massaging... 

You look up at me as you undo my jeans. They slide to the floor. You feel my legs, grab my ass and squeeze. You continue kissing my belly. I wonder if you are going to go any further. You squeeze my ass again and lift one leg over your shoulder. My heart beat quickens. My eyes close and my head falls back in anticipation.

Your fingers caress my mound and I feel them part my lips. Your thumb gently rubs me and my breath catches. You move closer as I watch you and soon I feel your hot tongue on me, searching for its prize. It feels like a little bit of heaven. You work on me until I start to shudder, then you kiss your way back up to my face. We kiss again, our tongues circling. I can taste where you have been.

Still holding each other we move the bedroom. Once there, it's my turn... I take off your shirt and caress your torso. Your arms are strong and beautiful. They comfort me. 

I kiss your chest and move to one nipple. I gently suck and lick at it as it hardens at my touch. I feel this one with my fingers while moving to lick the other. I can feel your heart beat through your chest. You're excited and it turns me on more.

I kiss my way down your body and kneel down in front of you. I watch you as I take your pants off. Wow.... what a beautiful sight. Your cock is hard and so inviting. I gently caress it, feeling the head and gently grasping the shaft. I slowly tug making sure you're comfortable with what I'm doing. Your eyes are closed so I think all is ok. I want to taste you too so I lower you down to lie on the floor. I take my top off and watch you admire me in the candlelight. I sit to the side of you and watch your face as I take your cock in to my mouth. I hear you sigh. I still hold your cock in my hand and pull as I take you in and out of my mouth, licking and sucking and I also caress your balls, taking them in to my mouth as well. Your body starts to move beneath me and I stop for now. I'm not ready to be done yet.

I straddle your hips and gently rub your throbbing cock against my pussy. I'm so wet and ready to feel you inside me. I guide you in and we both moan. You feel amazing. I begin to ride you slowly, watching you. You reach out to grab my breasts through my lace bra. I put my hands on top of yours and ride you a little faster. I lean forward to kiss you again, kissing your neck, nibbling at your ear. My hot breath making you dizzy. I hear you moan in pleasure.

But I'm still not ready to stop.

We move to the bed and I get on. I turn away from you, kneeling on my hands and knees, my arse in the air and just the right height... inviting you. You stand at the end of the bed and grab my hips. I reach one hand between my legs to feel for you. I help guide you inside me again. You are so deep inside me now and you begin to thrust in and out. I feel one of your hands trace the tattoo on my lower back and I shiver. I turn my head over my shoulder to look at you and you smile. You are enjoying all of me. I reach my right hand between my legs. I rub my clit while you fuck me. I reach a little further and put 2 fingers either side of my opening so I can feel you entering me. It's so wet and hot. I squeeze around your cock and add to the tightness...

You lean forward to undo my bra and grab my tits that are swinging in response to your movements. You squeeze them gently and I moan more. I ask you to pull my hair and you do. It makes me arch my back and the feeling of you inside me becomes more intense. You feel so awesome inside me. I cant get enough. 

You feel you are going to cum soon but don't want to. You roll me over on to my back and move me up the bed. You fall on top of me and look in to my eyes. It's such an intense look. You kiss me with passion and hold me as close as you can. You trace my face with your fingers. Such a soft touch. I kiss your fingers. 

You spread my legs again with your knees and enter me again. But this time tenderley, and with care. I wrap my legs around you amazed at the closeness I feel to you. 

You make love to me.

We are still kissing, barely coming up for air. Your hands caress my body again finding my hands. Our fingers are entwined as we move together. 

We kiss, we touch, we move. It's beautiful and I begin to feel the sensation coming from my toes, up my body and soon I am ready to burst... My orgasm is intense and I arch my back and let my head fall back as I let out a loud pleasureable moan. You are amazing.

You're not far behind me and I feel you quiver inside of me. You moan too and it's music to my ears and I feel your juice warm inside me. You fall on top of me, your head on my chest. Our hearts beating in sync. Trying to catch a breath.

We look at each other and have a little chuckle. 

What an amazing way to say hello...



Close Encounter on a Train



So, I pick you up at the airport. Old old friends, but, hell, it's been a while and then some.

You get to be the one coming out from backstage, all bleary-eyed, but wide awake and soaking it all up and with that darting look as your eyes flick around looking for something, someone familiar. 

I guess I have the advantage, naturally, as I see you waaay before you see me and I get to watch you in that detached way you can really look at someone who hasn't a clue you're watching. 

No wheelie suitcase, you, but a smallish backpack, and I say hello and smile do that shoulder-patting hug thing and I offer to carry something to the station, but it's just pleasantries, and I've already bought the tickets, so we just hop straight onto the waiting train. 

And we sit, face to face, by the train window. This is my show, so I ask about the journey, and you tell me a series of anecdotes, great detail, funny, about the mix-up when the woman behind the counter asked if you'd packed you bag yourself and you misunderstood and said, no, and ended up having to open it up for a thorough inspection, and about the rotund old chap on the plane who fell asleep with his head on your shoulder and I laugh, and it's cool. 

I waffle on about things through the window. England's green and pleasant land and you just lap it all up and I crack open the cokes I bought and tell you to take a sip so I can top it up from the half jack of damn fine Polish vodka I have in my bag. And we drink and any nerves are gone. 

The journey takes about an hour and it's already halfway through, and we have one of those familiar awkward silences, which is really just a pause in the laughter, and you look at me, kinda quizzically like, and I feign a shyness that's only half there and you kick my shoe with your foot. 

Now, if there were any doubts about which way we were headed, I have none now, and I'm thinking that's half an hour already gone and I dart my eyes towards the door where there's that gap between carriages with the toilet cubicles and you are one step ahead and when I casually stroll off there, you are just a step behind. 

By the time we slip into the 'bathroom' (though neither of us is planning on a bath) we're pretty much all over one another and it's a question of practicalities but I'm guessing we're both pretty resourceful of that front. We're kissing and although there's no real need, we seem to be pretty much undressing me, as my top's off and, hell, those knickers, they just seem to disappear. 

There's a counter by the sink and you're guiding me back towards that and I kind of raise my arse a bit to sit on it. And we're still kissing through all of this, except your mouth slips down a bit and then some and it's there on my breasts and it's back on my mouth. 

You have one hand behind my head, which is in danger, not that I give a fuck, of banging into the paper towel dispenser. 

But me, hell, I'm just on fire and I barely know I'm there, so when the door handle begins to move and someone knocks to ask if anyone's there, I'm afraid I barely notice your 'no offence but we're busy in here, so if you'd kindly fuck off'. 

Your other hand is inside of me and outside of me and I know what I want, so that when your head goes further down and I see what you're thinking, tempting though it is, I shake my head, undo the button and zip of your jeans and pull you right up to me so you're standing between my legs and there's only one place you can go, babe. 

And you do. You slip right on inside of me and just wait a second. 

And then you slip right on back out again, so I practically beg you with the tiniest of hmmm-moans to come back in. 

Me, I don't move. I don't want to. I just stay quite still and kiss the top of your head and wrap my arms around you, and leave any movement to you. Just still. And though it really should take longer, I used the words hair trigger appropriately, and as you feel this, where I go from breathing heavily to just not breathing at all for 20/30 seconds, and my twitching around you, hell, mate, you aren't far behind.