0 comments/ 23552 views/ 0 favorites Paradox By: MG173s_sunshine Her sense of excitement and foreboding was immediate as she kicked the door shut with her heel. Shades pulled down and curtains drawn over the windows. Every light off. The room black as pitch and the click of the latch as the door shut was the sound of the dungeon door. Her Master lurked in the dark and it was his style, his pleasure to watch her anticipation grow, her nervousness as she stood in the dark. "Master???" Inquisitive ~ almost uncertain. Groceries carelessly placed on the counter as she glances around. Her anticipation grows, her nervousness. Even thought she knows him well, until she feels his touch, until she hears his voice, until she has the reassuring knowledge that it is indeed her Master lurking in the dark... her body trembles with excited nervousness. "Master...???" Almost a whimper. Begging for reassurance. Feeling a bit of fear, and still, even with the fear, her nipples stiffen... her cunt contracts. "Close your eyes, whore." The words fall on her ears with both relief and trepidation. Indeed, it was her Master... the demon in the dark, but, his voice... deliciously evil. Almost a whisper yet it carried a tone of complete confidence in her obedience, and even as she swung her head in the direction of the voice, she dutifully clamps her eyes shut and gulps a breath. It seemed like hours. No movement, no sound, but she can feel the unhurried eyes on her. The slitted eyes of a cat preparing to pounce... silently tensing muscles... vision riveted. The hypnotic tension freezing her in place…motionless except for a quiver in her stomach and a slight sway. The dark of the room and the blackness behind her closed eyes challenge her balance. A light dizziness accelerated by the anticipation. "Steady yourself, whore." Her body jerks in surprise... the voice whispering only inches from her ear. As stealthy as a shadow he had slinked to her side and been standing there, and now her heart raced, her brow beaded with sweat. Fingers encircle her wrist and guide her hand to the back of a the wrought iron chair that had been mysteriously and silently placed in front of her. "Steady yourself, whore," again he whispered. She places the other hand on the chair back... its position such that she bends forward slightly at the waist. She had spent the day at work without a bra according to his order this morning, and the hours of jostling had rubbed her nipples on the fabric to a point of torture. And now, as she is bent to the chair, the weight of her breasts pressed them harder against her blouse. Her Master was so well attuned to her that, at her mumbled moan, he knew her nipples burned. Fingers dabbled at the front of her shirt. Tapping as light as a feather on the nubs through the cotton... tracing tiny circles around them. Then, finding the first button and, with a practiced twist of the fingers, it opened. With slow deliberation, the fingers marched from one button to the next, each in turn falling open. Between each one, the fingers examined the nearby nipple, tracing its outline with the tip of a nail, feeling them stiffen further... enjoying the hiss from between her teeth. With each button that surrendered, the shirt pulled across her breasts to the side, until at last, they hang free. The relief was immediate, but in the same instant, they prickled with vulnerability as they swayed beneath her. His body moved, she could only sense it, but not hear it. Slinking like the shadows hemselves he moved through the room. She tries to follow with her ears, but they were drumming with her heartbeat, and she clenches her eyes tighter as the temptation to peek came upon her. He would never know in this darkness. She could look to see what he was doing, and he would never know. Again, so close to her ear that it frightened her... "Do not open your eyes, whore." God, how did he know... is he living inside her. Her heart raced faster. The crinkling of paper. Familiar. What was that... yes,... the tissue around the roses that she had lain on the counter with the groceries. He unwrapped the roses... why??? A husky sweet perfume fills her nostrils, and then the softness of velvet on her lips. A rose petal just under her nose and the fragrance fills her head. "The rose.. ." Master whispers, "is such a paradox. As soft as the kiss of a kitten, and as sweet as ambrosia... yet... the thorns, sharp as the fangs of a serpent, like the tip of your Master dagger. Pleasure... pain. Comforting, yet so very dangerous. Kiss this rose, whore, kiss this soft petal. The soft petals of your mouth against the soft petals of this flower. Kiss it. Inhale. Drink in all the pleasures this contradiction of nature can provide. Breath it in." "And now... feel it. " The fragrance diminishes as the rose is pulled away. Then, the softest tickle on her right nipple. The velvet petal brushed over the bud, around it... grazing the sides of her suspended breast. Like the trail of a feather on her skin. "Such a paradox," Master whispers again in her ear. Instantly, the sharp sting of a thorn against her nipple. Her wail explodes with violence at the contact. "Pleasure, blended with pain," He whispers into her ear, and the razor tip scraped around the outer edge of the areola, searing instantly to the pit of her stomach. Another scream and her nails clenched at the back of the chair. How can such a beauty cause such agony... and the light scraping of this tiny dagger trailed directly over her throbbing nipple. Then, tapping, with a miniature stabbing motion, and each thrust exploding from her throat, first with a yelp and then evolving into a scream. Through the torment and the cloud of pain her mind finds some reason. Her nipple rages with agony yet her cunt wept its pleasures. As this demon... this lover... ravages her nipples, waves of ecstasy cascaded through her loins, and a climax like none other shattered the night. As she bucks against the chair, the pointed thorns or the rose pecked at the pointed buds her nipples, and the soft pink petals of her cunt bloomed... weeping with the dew of pleasure. The longest time she stood panting... leaning over the back of the chair. Her nipples tingled. Her cunt throbbed. Eyes still closed and the room dark a pitch. Still... no sound, except for a rhythmic breathing from the man beside her. Sweat rolls along the sides of her breasts and she can feel the pulse in her wrists against the chair. As her thoughts calm, as she begins to settle, the back of her mind reminds her, Master did not cum. Instantly, an even softer whisper into her ear. Hands and knees, whore. The jangle of a chain in the dark, the click of a pad lock opening. Her knees settle onto the pillow. This softness is the only kindness she will feel for awhile. "Hold this for me, whore" The riding crop is placed between her teeth, the tangy, musky taste of leather on her tongue... hands lift her skirt over her rounded cheeks. The fabric of her panties is roughly gathered and pulled upward, and it sliced between her cunt lips and across her arsehole... and snapped as it was released. Preparing for what she knows is coming she begins to quiver, and then, lips, as soft as the rose petals kiss her arse cheeks. Then the other, until her arse is covered with kisses and moisture from his mouth. A soothing, loving tongue devoured and lapped over the smooth skin and hands massaged the moisture. The tenderness is awesome, and then... the realization came. Paradox... the rose... pleasure... pain... contrast... and she feels the riding crop tugged from her mouth. One long deep breath from above her and the whistle of leather in the dank night air. "Here comes the thorn, whore." To be continued... Paradox 1 "I'm going for a shower." Heather said, as she climbed out of the pool. "Ok." I replied, watching from my poolside chair. She pushed back her wet dark hair, adjusted her bikini top and padded softly through the open glass doors of our chalet. Although forty, Heather had the body of a thirty year old, with a light brown skin tone that suggested she may be part Spanish. Her breasts were tiny and pert ("My bee stings." She self-consciously called them) and her round behind was just breathtaking. Despite her attractiveness, Heather was not an easy person to like. She had a rather intense character and was liable to brood or sulk for reasons I could never fathom. To be honest I had always been slightly wary of her. We had spent most of the morning in the pool, more to get some needed relief from the blazing sun than for the actual enjoyment of swimming. The other two members of our group; Jane (my partner) and Tom (Heather's husband), were away for the morning visiting a nearby castle and it's associated village. Heather and I were supposed to be with them but, still feeling the effects of last night's wine and tequila, I had decided to give the sightseeing a miss. After all, holidays are about relaxing, not trudging around with a hangover in the stifling mid-summer heat. I wasn't sure why Heather had stayed here with me, but I did suspect she had something on her mind. Whatever that 'something' may have been, she hadn't felt the need to mention it during the morning. I decided to close my eyes, slump back in the chair, and maybe drift off to sleep. As I relaxed I turned over the details of the previous night's conversations in my mind. The four of us had been playing some sort of truth or dare board game, a potentially dodgy pastime when all the players are a bit drunk. During a 'confessions' part of the game, Jane told us that at the age of 19, she and her friend, Maggie, had caught Maggie's brother standing naked in front of a full length dressing mirror; he was also masturbating feverishly. "I couldn't believe it." Laughed Jane. "He didn't stop when he noticed us. He just turned round, stared straight directly at me and then came all over the floor." "What did you do?" I asked, surprised I hadn't heard this tale before. "Well, I was too stunned to do anything really, but Maggie totally freaked, she swore at her brother and then rushed me out of the house.* Jane laughed again. " She was so apologetic. Mind you, I'd be fucking apologetic if my brother had just knocked one out in front of my best friend!" Jane, Tom and I continued to discuss the event with glee, our comments and theories becoming more and more ridiculous. Heather, on the other hand, remained tight lipped. Sitting silently with her legs crossed, she slowly went into one of her broods. After the game had finished, when three of us had calmed down and the sulky Heather had managed to cheer up a bit, I went in to the kitchen to get us all a round of tequilas. Heather joined me moments later, leaning up against the cooker, she crossed her arms and watched me pour the drinks. "Men are all the same." She announced, giving me a stern look. "What do you mean." I asked. "You're always playing with yourselves, wank, wank, wank, that's all you do, it's pathetic." "Well..." I began, trying to think of a reply that showed her accusation wasn't entirely true. "I mean it's disgusting," She interrupted, her demeanour becoming slightly aggressive. "It's animal, you haven't evolved beyond those wanking chimps on wildlife programmes!" The only response I gave was to do my rather impressive chimpanzee impression (I was drunk after all). I then smiled a stupid smile, picked up the tequilas and carried them into the lounge. Passing through the kitchen door I looked back at Heather and saw she was also beginning to a smile. For the rest of the evening I couldn't help repeatedly glancing over at Heather, our exchange in the kitchen had (strangely you may think) aroused me and I had to concentrate hard on controlling the tell-tale bulge that was growing in my jeans. You see, Heather possessed a paradoxical side to her libido and ever since the day I discovered what that paradox was, she had the unwitting ability to seriously turn me on.. I first met her when I started seeing Jane, and at that time I thought Heather was just a good looking, yet rather short tempered friend of Jane's, but eight years ago, way before she married Tom, Heather had a short relationship with a friend of mine. During this time he told me privately (during yet another drunken evening) that she was 'weird' in bed. From that point my opinion of her changed. "She loves to see me jerk off," He declared. "And when I say she loves it, I mean she fucking loves it! She goes week at the knees and starts whimpering. But when I talk to her about it, you know, after sex, she just loses her temper and denies that it gets her off. Weird!" Well, it was I who felt week at the knees. For some reason, I became incredibly horny at the thought of Heather watching while I masturbated in front of her. I desperately wanted to see her knelt before me, 'whimpering' with pleasure as I stroked and pumped my hard, glistening cock. This imagined fantasy plagued me from that day on, and Heather, that unknowing tease, made my torment worse by regularly making barbed comments about "dirty men" and how they are always "wanking". Each time she did this my mouth became dry and my heart would race, not only because I couldn't help but picture her watching me, but also because I thought these slurs disguised a strong and persistent desire that she wouldn't (or couldn't) admit to. The idea was so intoxicating, to have the power to bring out Heather's unbidden lust, despite her intellect's best efforts to deny or suppress it. 2 As I sat beside the pool thinking of Heather's contradictions, I began drifting away to that strange world between sleep and consciousness, my mind swirling with thoughts of what I wanted to show her: those masturbatory scenarios that I've replayed in my head many times. The warm sun on my skin and the distant birdsong gradually coaxed me to the very edge of sleep. Suddenly I became aware of a shadow falling across my face. I opened my eyes and looked up, Heather was standing very close to me. Her hair, wet from the shower, curled down the side of her face and gently rested upon a deeply tanned shoulder. A large white towel, tucked in at the front, was wrapped tightly around her body. It covered her from just above those small breasts to halfway down her smooth, slightly parted thighs. She looked glorious, Heather's brown skin positively glowed and shone from the contrast caused by the bright white towel. Her mouth was open and she was staring directly at my crotch. It was then that I realized my right hand was resting upon the front of my boxer shorts, but also apparent was the all too obvious bulge caused by my erect cock. I must have been rubbing it against my inner thigh whilst semi-dreaming of Heather. Alarmingly, the head of my prick was almost showing proud from the cotton leg of the boxers. As she stared, her hand toyed pensively with a small silver pendant hanging from her neck. "Tom rang, he says they won't be back until this evening." She said absently, her gaze remaining fixed on my hand and the stretched material beneath it. "Oh, right." I said lamely. My heart was beating fast, and I wondered where this was going, I couldn't tell whether she was staring at my crotch in shock, disgust, or fascination, maybe it was all three? To find out, I swallowed dryly and began pressing my cock gently against my inner left thigh. Heather drew in a quick, wavering breath, then slowly squatted down in front of me, her legs spreading wide apart as she crouched. She then rested her shaking hands softly upon each of my open thighs, her light touch sending a shock of pleasure through me. She lay her head against the side of my left knee and stared intently at the tip of my now fully erect member as it pushed just clear of the boxer shorts. The towel had fallen open from her navel down, revealing her soft pubic hair and below, barely visible, those beautiful, dark pussy lips. I gradually pulled back the boxer's material to uncover as much of my cock as I could, Heather's eyes widened as my veined manhood slid free. I used my palm to push the shaft more firmly against my inner thigh, slowly sliding it up and down. Pre-cum flowed from the head, tracing an arc of wetness across my skin, Heather licked her dry lips and slowly slid her head slightly closer to my cock, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. "Fucking animal!" She said quietly, "Tom would never..." Her voice faltered. "...Never degrade himself in front of me like that." I wrapped my fingers around my prick and slowly began to move my fist up and down, still keeping the bulbous tip pointing straight at Heather's face. She let out a small groan and once again brought herself slightly closer towards my dripping erection. "Dirty fucking pervert!" Heather hissed through gritted teeth. Was she talking to me or herself? I wasn't sure. "I could stop if you want." I teased. Heather's grip on my thighs tightened, as if expressing desperation. Her demeanour changed in an instant. "No...no don't." She pleaded, briefly looking up at me, meeting my eyes for the first time. God, that needy look was almost enough to make me cum there and then She returned her gaze to my tool and once again licked her drying lips. "Please, just show me." She begged in a whisper. As if to urge me on, Heather tugged roughly at the front of her towel. The knot came free and she let it fall from her body, exposing those small, pointed breasts. I drank in the sight of her dark, hard nipples, that shamelessly demonstrated Heather's desire by jutting expectantly from her swollen areola. Perfect as her prim little tits were, I needed no further urging, I had never been so turned on in my life, I was living my fantasy. My cock was now just an inch away from her waiting mouth and parted lips, The slippery wet fluid smothered over my tip intensified the tingling sensation as her hot breath blew across me. Heather took her hand away from my right thigh, and dragged two of her fingers through the drops of pre-cum that ran down the end of my shaft. I caught my breath at her touch. Then, still squatting, she opened her enticing legs even further apart and pressed the lubricated fingers against her crotch.. "Ohhh." She whimpered and began sliding them across her slit, a gentle and careful rubbing that teased out her pink bud. I groaned as I watched her masturbate, my dick so very close to entering her mouth. Then she sped up, her fingers running rough and urgent strokes over her sex. In harmony, I matched her increase in speed and with a quickening pace, pumped my cock harder. "Dirty slut." I said, remembering what she had called me. "Fuck yourself!" Startled, Heather suddenly stilled her hand and again looked up into my eyes. Holding my gaze she reached up and slid her two fingers into my mouth, As I sucked and licked them I savoured the bitter sweet taste of her juices. She brought her hand back down and dragged her wet fingertips over her clit, then curled them inwards as she guided them into her pussy. With deliberation, she slowly fucked herself this way, riding across her swollen clit on each hypnotic and extended thrust. The wet, sucking sounds caused by her self-penetration drove me, once again, close to the edge. I had to cease my vigorous fist pumping and began to stroke myself gently instead, lightly caressing my twitching, engorged tip. "How could you fuck your cunt in front of me like that?" I sneered cruelly at her, now playing the game to the full. Without flinching from my stinging words, Heather continued to stare deep into my eyes, and with a look of defiance and lust, began to fuck herself faster and deeper, her right hand gripping my left thigh so tightly that her nails dug into my skin. Her open mouth was now so close to my cock head that if she brought her lips together they would close over it. I had stopped stroking my rock hard shaft, I just held it pointing inside her mouth. "God." I said breathlessly, "You are my wet dream." At my words, Heather began panting, all self-control yielding to her now totally dominant desire. "Uh...uh...uh...uh." With each short groan her breath pushed urgently over my prick, I could feel the heat inside of her mouth, I could see the passion in her eyes. The head of my aching cock softly brushed against her quivering lower lip. All the years of fantasizing, of frustration, of yearning erupted at that moment. I moaned and spurted a long jet of cum into her proffered mouth, the second load splashed hard against her lips and chin. She tilted her head back in supplication and the third stream sprayed upwards upon both her waiting face and dark hair. Heather's orgasm brought out a long animal wail, that rose from deep inside her, she trembled and mewled as I emptied my cock all over her. I watched as my cum ran out of her still open mouth, dripping down and off her chin, splashing upon those golden breasts. Her fingers were a blur as she slammed them mercilessly in and out of her sopping wet pussy. Heather's expressive eyes were now shut tight as the oh-so needed shudders of pleasure and release swept through her. She collapsed to her knees with exhaustion and took in great gulps of the warm air. After a couple of minutes she opened her eyes and looked at my semi-hard cock, then back up to my eyes. I was smiling fondly at her and she bashfully looked away. I had been revelling at the sight of Heather's face, neck and breasts, all drenched in a slippery mixture of my thick cum and her oily sweat; the erotic proof of my fantasy made real. As I continued to enjoy the pornographic image before me, Heather's mind-set slowly reasserted itself and her facial expression changed from one of endearing coyness to a sort of impassive glower. The smile fell from my lips. "I'm going for a shower." She said curtly. Heather stood up, covered herself with the towel, then turned and quickly jogged back to the chalet. End Paradox Pt. 02 ONE There I was, standing in her shower with a large and persistent erection that had plagued me relentlessly for the last half hour. As the warm water splashed down over my skin I struggled to make a decision on what to do. Either I jerk myself off or make this shower a cold one, I thought miserably. Try as I might, the images of her slow masturbation would not leave my mind. Whatever I do, I have to get rid of this fucking hard-on. Looking down in frustration at my proud, aching shaft, I sighed and reached out for the thermostat. Brace yourself! I thought, preparing to turn the dial to 'cold'. There was a 'tap-tap' on the bathroom door. I hesitated then turned off the shower. "Yes?" I called, grabbing a bath towel. "What are you doing in there?" Heather called loudly. "Taking a shower." I replied, quickly drying myself with the soft towel. "Why?" "Er, I didn't think you'd mind." "Well no, I don't mind I suppose; as long as you're not playing with yourself in there." I groaned, Why did she always have to do this to me? After a brief pause I summoned what little courage I had, and once again took the plunge. "But Heather, it's so hard that I can't stop myself." With my heart thumping in my chest, I listened and waited for either a tirade of abuse or the sound of her retreating footsteps. She didn't speak or move away from the door. That was a good sign. I stepped out of the shower, hung up the towel and stood facing the door. Ok, it's do or die time! "It's true Heather, why don't you come in and see for yourself?" Expectantly I continued to wait and began slowly stroking my still wet cock. Have I read her right? I wondered. Eventually the bathroom door clicked open. TWO Ever since the spontaneous event two months earlier, when we masturbated for each other, Heather had become really unpleasant. I suspected her overt rudeness was a direct reaction to her feelings of guilt and disgust over our voyeuristic act. Although she really loved watching men jerk-off, her disapproving conscious mind buried this erotic fascination to the point of complete denial. In fact, Heather had been such a bitch, that I was beginning to hate her, even though she was physically hot, the constant sarcasm, slurs and vitriol had driven me up the wall. However; jerking-off for her had been one of my most satisfying sexual experiences and I desperately wanted to repeat it. Perversely, her bad behaviour had somehow strengthened my desire. Why? I'm not sure. Perhaps my urge to 'tame the shrew' had became heightened by her hypocritical comments. Heather was the oldest friend of my partner, Jane, and married to an amiable bloke called Tom. As Jane and Heather were friends, the four of us had met up five or six times in the last couple of months for dinner or a drink. We'd generally have a good time but inevitably Heather would sink into one of her moods and start railing against men. This in itself was not unusual, but when ever she made her dismissive references to "dirty men " with their "one track minds" and "Constant wanking!", she would now cast an icy stare in my direction. To my discomfort, the reproachful looks didn't stop me getting turned on by her "wank" talk and a tell-tale bulge would always appear in my jeans. Her disdain was so obvious that before long, Jane picked up on Heather's apparent focus on me. "Why does Heather always look at you when she has a go at men?" Jane had once asked me. I just pleaded ignorance and suggested that maybe she just didn't like me. Which, ironically, seemed pretty close to the truth. So what, (you may ask), was I doing standing in Heather's shower without her knowing? Well It started that morning when I got a call from Jane: "Could you do me a favour and go round to Heathers house after you leave work.?" She asked. "Why?" "Because Tom's new surround sound thing got delivered last week and I said you'd set it up for them." I groaned inwardly. "Why can't Tom do it?" "You know he's in Germany for at least another week, and she's got tons of boxes of speakers and stuff stuck in the hallway." "Ok." I sighed. "But you know those things can take an age to set up, it could be some time before I get back." "Don't worry, Anyway I'm staying at my brother's tonight, remember?" After Jane's call I thought about the prospects for the coming evening with a mixture of dread and excitement. Going on her recent bad temper I was frankly surprised that Heather would even want me in her house, let alone spend a prolonged amount of time with me. Conversely, part of me wondered whether she had deliberately manipulated the situation so I was there on a night when both our partners were away? I gave up trying to second guess Heather's motives and prepared myself for what would probably be a dismal evening. "Hi." I said as Heather opened the front door, "I've come to switch you on!" A stupid joke that wasn't even funny, but in my defence I was feeling rather nervous. She looked at me as if I'd just crapped in her hat. I coughed awkwardly and unleashed my winning smile (which quickly lost). "It's all in here." She said coldly and pointed to a jumbled collection of boxes. I watched as, without saying another word, Heather turned and padded barefoot back in to the house. She was beautiful. An olive skinned, curvaceous woman of forty who had the body of a thirty year old and a 'continental' face that seemed to perpetually pout. She was wearing a summery black and white check skirt that flowed in pleated folds over her round ass down to the tops of her calves. Her white, low cut halter-top highlighted the golden skin of both her neck and shoulders. The thin, loosely woven material was woefully inadequate in concealing her bold, chocolate brown nipples and pert, unfettered breasts that jiggled teasingly as she moved. I continued to watch transfixed, as she walked into the living room, her dark, straight hair shimmering hypnotically in the light and her fluid skirt, swaying seductively about those luscious calves. Has she put on that top and skirt for my benefit? I wondered. I realized I had been holding my breath. With a sigh I entered the house and closed the door behind me. Picking up two of the boxes on the way, I followed her to the room. "Do you want it set up in here?" I asked from the living room doorway. Heather had settled down on a plush, expansive sofa and was laying on her side with her legs tucked up towards her chest. The patterned skirt had rode up slightly giving me a tantalizing view of her curved thighs. She was holding a new looking paperback. Interestingly, the words 'Black Lace' were written down the spine. "Where else?" she answered confrontationally, her dark eyes flashing. I shrugged and smiled once more, then wordlessly began ferrying the many boxes to the large flat-screen TV in the living room. Heather fell silent and resumed reading her book. Jeez, this is going to be a fun evening. I thought sarcastically. For the next hour I positioned the speakers, deciphered the cryptic user manual and wired up the player. During this time Heather completely ignored me and diligently read her intriguing paperback. I wished I could read Heather! Did her coldness reflect anger, shame or some sort of internal struggle, fought between her prudish intellect and a growing sexual desire? A sexual desire that I, the focus of her spite, had unwittingly strengthened? At one point during my labours Heather scratched her legs and in the process rode the pleated skirt farther up her closed thighs. I now had the barest glimpse of those smooth, round buttocks in addition to the white panties that restrained her squeezed and protruding labia. Sitting on the carpet, assembling the system, I occasionally pretended mislaying something and then irritably look around, but in reality I was trying to steal furtive glances of her tightly covered sex. I was getting hard. When finally begining the audio test I heard Heather drop her book on the floor and shift position. After a few minutes I looked round. She looked asleep, laying on her back, eyes closed, her right arm hanging limply down to the floor. Her left leg was stretched out along the sofa and the right was bent at the knee. The summer skirt had slipped (or been pulled?) down the provocatively raised thigh and lay haphazardly across her waist. Standing at the end of the sofa where her feet lay, I gazed down upon her semi-exposed form, my eyes following the lines of Heather's parted legs, right up to her panty hugged 'Camel-toe'. My hand fell to the bulge in my jeans and I rubbed against my constrained cock. God, She is so hot! I suddenly became aware of what I was doing and with a start brought my hand quickly away from my jeans. Cursing my voyeuristic lust, I reluctantly turned away to continue the audio test. To be honest, if Heather had woken up and seen me groping an erection, she may have responded with the same enthusiasm that she showed two months ago, but her recent animosity made me very unsure. By the time the work was done Heather had shifted position once more. She lay face down, upon and over her right arm, the left arm, bent at the elbow, supported her sleeping head. Her now straight legs were slightly parted and the lifted skirt, still gathered around her waist, allowed a perfect view of the white panties, pulled tautly into the deep crack of her perfect butt. The sight though, that brought a low moan from my lips and my prick twitching with need, was almost too much to bear. The fingers of Heather's right hand peeked up between her inner thighs from under her mons and had wrapped themselves over the slim panty crotch. I wanted to pull my cock out right there and jerk-off over her while she slept. With a dry mouth and a racing heart I pictured drenching her ass, panties and fingers with a thick, white coating of my perverted cum. It's no good, I thought., I've got to go home before I get done for sexual assault! Preparing to leave, I caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of my eye. I returned my gaze to the enticing gap between her legs,. To my cock's delight, her fingers were pushing the cotton crotch against her pussy with a slow circular motion. Heathers face, now turned towards the room, was angelically serene as she sleep-masturbated, her hips gently gyrating on the searching hand Her full-lipped mouth opened with a barely audible sigh and her eyelids flickered rapidly from the obviously arousing dream. With frustrated excitement, I watched as the pure-white panties gradually darkened from the soaking juices that ran freely from her stimulated hole. Fuck! I've got to stop watching her get off and calm myself down now! I rushed to the bathroom. THREE Heather stepped through the bathroom door, her eyes fixed on my wet shaft as I teased it with my fingers. She slowly closed the door and leant back up against it, her erect nipples showing through the light material of her halter-top. "See, I told you it was hard." I said Her eyes, wide open flicked briefly up to mine, then dropped back down to watch my gentle stroking. She nodded dumbly in agreement and grasped the hem of her skirt with a slightly shaking hand. Heather then exposed herself to me by unselfconsciously raising the hem up to her shoulder. The other hand slid tentatively down the front of her panties, she groaned as the probing fingers began to toy with her pre-aroused pussy. "I've been dreaming about you." She croaked. "Really?" I asked. "What happened?" She paused, as if deciding whether to tell me. "I was spying on you." "Yes?" I encouraged her, my hand now fully enclosed around my shaft. I pumped faster. "You were kneeling down and..." She let out a little whimper and her eyes rolled upwards. "And in front of you, on the floor, was..." Her voice faltered once more, her breathing ragged, coming in short gasps. "And on the floor was a photograph; a photograph of me." I took a couple of steps forward, my rock hard phallus just inches away from her . "What was I doing?" I asked. Heather looked down at my fist that slid rapidly up and down my veined length. "You were wanking yourself like you are now and you... " She whimpered again and bit her lower lip. She closed her eyes and I glanced down at her hand and fingers as they moved urgently under the thin cotton panties. "And you shot your cum all over my picture." She almost came there and then, but quickly removed her busy hand before the orgasm hit. This didn't stop Heather from falling shakily to her knees, her mouth now tantalizingly close to my outstretched manhood. I ceased pumping and dragged the slick head of my shaft slowly backwards and forwards across her quivering lips, smearing them in pre-cum. Looking up into my eyes, she placed her hands gently on my ass, I flinched involuntarily at the lightness of her touch. Heather pulled me closer, drawing my dripping cock-head into her warm, wet mouth. She sucked softly on my swollen gland, teasing it expertly with small flicks of her tongue before gradually pulling back, leaving a single string of pre-cum and saliva hanging between us. She coyly licked her lips and the long, strand dropped down over her chin. It was my turn to reach the brink of orgasm. I took my hand from my cock and stepped back. "Let me look at you, take off your top." I said. Heather, still kneeling, crossed her arms to clasp the bottom of the halter-top and in one swift movement raised it up over her head. As it came free she shook her now static-charged hair, and it stuck endearingly across the sides of her upturned face. She leant back on her heels, to give me a clear view of her small, pointed breasts. Licking my lips, I leered at the long, dark nipples that jutted out desperately from her brown, swollen areolae. "Do you like my little titties?" She asked with exaggerated innocence. I swallowed dryly as she pinched a hard nipple between outstretched fingers. "Yes, they're beautiful." I replied. "Could you see them through my top when I answered the door?" She asked. "Yes." I basked in her 'dirty girl' talk. "I thought you could, I can be so naughty sometimes." She twisted each nipple between her thumbs and forefingers. My twitching erection ached for attention as I witnessed her playful self-punishment bring winces of pleasure and pain. "You must think I'm a prick-teasing slut?" She added finally, placing a fingertip between her teeth and demurely nibbling at it. I nodded dumbly and my hand returned to my cock. Heather watched, trance like, as I lightly dragged pre-cum around and over my shaft. "Take off your panties." I said Heather raised her behind, gathered up the creased skirt and slowly, teasingly, pulled the now soaked panties down to her knees. She sat back with her ass on the floor in order to remove them completely. Once they were in her hands, she spread out the wet cotton crotch in her palm, closed her fingers around my prick and with great concentration, ran the slippery material slowly up and down my pulsing length. I moaned as she stroked and mixed our juices together. "God Heather, you're gonna make me cum." I said as I felt the growing pressure in my loins Heather threw the panties to the floor and quickly lay down flat on her back, she pulled the crumpled skirt up around her waist and opened her tanned legs wide apart, exposing her neatly trimmed mons and slick slit to me. She then placed two fingers upon each of her prominent pussy lips and teased them away from her hole.. "Please look at my cunt." She begged. "Look at my slut cunt while you jerk-off." Breathing hard, I knelt between her knees and, stared at the exotic, dark petaled flower that Heather had displayed for me. The soft pink of both her hole and enlarged clit swam in the abundant juices that overflowed down into her puckered anus. I could smell the sweet scent of her desire. As she watched me running my fist along my throbbing shaft, Heather flicked at her shiny pearl with a slippery finger. Using my free hand, I plunged two fingers deep in to her offered pussy, Heathers eyes and mouth sprang wide open with the sudden pleasure. When I bent my fingers upwards and pushed them firmly against her G spot, Heather's hips began to buck and twist, grinding her sex on to my hand. "CUM FOR ME!" She squealed as her orgasm approached. Her desperate expression sent me over the edge, my right hand now a blur as I pumped my yearning phallus. "OHHH MY GOD!" I groaned loudly as I aimed myself at her. "TAKE IT!" My cock, cannon-like, shot out great long streams of cum over her waiting body. It flew in thick, white ribbons across her stomach, arms and jiggling breasts. At the sight of my cum squirting prick, Heather came with the force and volume of a hurricane, her contracting pussy gripping hard on my upturned fingers. Like a wildcat she writhed and flailed, her wailing scream echoing around the tiled room. I collapsed, exhausted on top of her, our bodies now soaked in salty sweet and musky cum. Taking Heather's flushed face in my hands, I kissed her passionately. Her tongue responded warmly to mine, for the first time we showed actual affection towards each other. She wrapped her arms and legs around my body, pulling me tightly to her. Eventually we broke our intense clinch and I rolled slowly off her, our torsos sticky with spilt cum. Like before, I waited for Heather's demeanour to change, expecting her loathing and resentment to re-assert it's self. To my surprise she gave me a weak smile that was quickly replaced by floods of tears. I tried to comfort her by gently stroking her hair as she sobbed into her hands. "Heather..." I began, but she turned her hidden face away from me. "Please just go." She said, her voiced muffled behind her palms. "It's ok." I said reassuringly, but she was overcome with emotion. "Just GO!" She repeated and suddenly ran naked from the room, across the hall and in to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. I now felt sure that Heather was indeed engaged in a desperate internal battle. An ongoing struggle over sexual desire, that raged between her conscious and subconscious mind. Only time would tell what the outcome would be. Feeling somewhat concerned, I showered and dressed, then reluctantly left. END