0 comments/ 57130 views/ 0 favorites Visitor By: fmp Jacques drove up the suburban street in the late-afternoon sunshine, and checked the number of the house. Parking carefully in the driveway, he sat for a moment, thinking. How long was it since he and Francis had worked together? A quick calculation gave four years. He suddenly realised that Francis must be nearly forty, which in turn placed his wife at around twenty-eight, barely younger than Jacques himself. He got out of the car and rang the bell. Marie-Béatriz opened the door, and saw a tall, slim young man, wearing frameless glasses, which gave him an intellectual air. « Jacques? I’m Marie-Béatriz. Welcome » Jacques looked at the woman in front of him. She was fairly tall, slim, with very short blonde hair. She was attractive, rather than stunning, but with dazzling green eyes which lit up her face. She was dressed in a short, dark blue sports skirt, and a lighter blue t-shirt, which clung sufficiently to tell him she wore no bra. 85B, he guessed, or 34 in English terms. Trying not to stare, he met her eyes and smiled. « I’m pleased to meet you. I’ve heard a little from Francis about you. It’s nice to see you in the flesh, so to speak! » « All I know about you is that you send him nude photos of women for his birthday, so we’re quits! » They entered the house and Marie-Béatriz showed him into the lounge. « Francis won’t be long. Would you like some tea? » Jacques burst into laughter. « I see you’ve adopted the local customs! You’ll lose your accent next! » « I’m afraid that’s not likely! I only have to open my mouth, and voilà! Tea? Francis told me you don‘t drink coffee and it’s too early for anything stronger. See if there’s anything to watch on television while I play at housewives. » When Francis walked in five minutes later, Jacques was absorbed in a skating exhibition on satellite. « Stll admiring neat girl’s bottoms, I see! » Francis had barely aged. His hair was a little shorter, making up for the fact that it was thinning, but he was slim and well-preserved. After the greetings, and a few questions on Jacques’ work in South America, the two men settled down on front of the television. Marie-Béatriz came in with the tray, just in time to hear Jacques say : « Have you ever seen a more delectable bottom than Butrskaya’s? It’s like a peach! » « Actually, I have. And it’s a lot nearer to home. Isn’t that true, Marie-B? » His wife made no reply, but bent from the waist to put the tray on the low table. Her short skirt rode up and Jacques could not avoid the vision of a tightly muscled bottom, sexy despite being covered by a pair of fairly decent blue knickers. « I see what you mean. Am I allowed to compliment you, Marie-Béatriz? You have a terrific body. » « I work enough at it! Milk or lemon? » She seemed determined that, despite the sexual energy she generated, Jacques should not get the wrong idea. As she sat opposite him, he could still admire the view. She sat sexily, her feet tucked under her, showing a lot of thigh, but not blatantly. Jacques decided that Marie-B was a tease, and got his own back by talking, mostly to Francis, about various South American girls with whom he had had adventures, and whose photos he had subsequently sent to Francis as birthday cards. Francis dug them out, and the two men went over them in detail, while Marie-B watched, torn between joining in, and keeping a little distance from all this male complicity. Francis had booked for three at the restaurant for eight thirty, and Marie-Béatriz disappeared to get ready, while Francis and Jacques chewed the fat. « She’s quite something! How long have you been married now? « « Three years of discovery for both of us. I’ve only told you a few of our experiences, but you can see why I love people to see her looking sexy. » Jacques was a little disappointed when Marie-Béatriz appeared dressed to go out. He had expected something revealing, and the collarless shirt she wore over her short, tight black skirt, looked nice, but wasn’t exceptional. The outfit did, however, make him look again at her nicely toned legs, and the beautifully painted toe-nails in her open sandals. The Guard House restaurant was the favourite of Francis and Marie-Béatriz. A long low room, discreetly lit and always with enough interesting clients to discuss. Their table allowed Jacques and Francis to sit against a wall, with Marie-Béatriz opposite. Jacques could not resist looking at the other women. « So many women with fair hair! » he said « I haven’t seen so many in years! » « I hope you aren’t looking for sympathy » retorted Marie-Béatriz. « Judging by the photos you sent, there are plenty of sexy women in Venezuela, even if they aren’t blonde! » « Yes, but look at that redhead over there. How do her breasts remain in that dress? Superb! » « She certainly has a fine pair » admitted Francis « worth you turning to look, Marie-Béatriz » « Mmm… nice, but without her Wonderbra they’d be around her waist! Not a problem I will ever have.» Francis grinned at his wife. « Yours may be smaller, but you don’t need support, and they are very neat » « I’ll have to take your word for that, » said Jacques, « but I trust your taste! » « You don’t have to! Ask Marie-Béatriz if she is prepared to show you. She may, or she may not, but you can always ask » « Here?.... now?…She wouldn’t dare! » « Now you’ve done it! Never dare Marie-Béatriz to not do anything! » Marie-Béatriz, her eyes shining, was slowly unbuttoning her shirt. Under the fascinated gaze of the two men, she slowly finished the job. With her back to the room she knew that only Francis and Jacques could see, and her mounting excitement made her want to give them a show. She opened the shirt and allowed them to look at her firm breasts. Despite her disparaging comments, she knew they looked good, and the attention of her two companions was giving her a warm feeling inside her knickers. She was glad that she’d chosen a pair which fitted tightly against her hairless sex. She flipped her nipples with her nails to make them erect, before she dropped her hands and the shirt closed up again. « Satisfied? » « That was wonderful, but you’d better fasten up again. The waitress is coming. » Marie-Béatriz looked at the approaching young woman and smiled. She made no attempt to fasten her shirt, and, as the waitress arrived, Marie-Béatriz contrived to drop her napkin. The two women bent down simultaneously to pick it up, and the outstretched hand of the waitress brushed the naked breast of the Frenchwoman. « I’m sorry, madam….excuse me…. » she babbled, retreating, and blushing furiously. « No apology necessary… and thank you. » replied Marie-Béatriz with a happy smile, taking the napkin from her. After the meal, the trio got up to leave. Marie-Béatriz insisted on going to give a tip to the waitress, who blushed again as the Frenchwoman spoke to her. « What was that about? » asked Francis, as they walked towards the car, « Making dates with strange women again? » « No, I just told her you two were fantasising about her and me getting together. I don’t know whether she was more shocked or tempted! She was very attractive, didn’t you think? » « She didn’t reach your standard, though » said Jacques gallantly « Flatterer! » They reached the car, and Marie-Béatriz asked, in a cajoling tone : « Please can usual arrangements apply? I’d like them to, if it’s ok with you, Francis? » Jacques looked puzzled. Francis explained that when the two of them had an evening out, Marie-Béatriz had got into the habit of driving home stripped to the waist. « Of course they can.. unless Jacques objects….. which I doubt! » Marie-Béatriz took off her shirt, sat in the car and fastened her seatbelt across her bare breasts. She snuggled down in the seat and they drove off. Francis reached across from time to time to caress his wife, stroking her thighs and breasts, and pulling up her skirt to reveal her tight knickers. He played with them, making the thin silk fit into the cleft of her sex. She smiled and made happy noises, which excited Jacques, who could see what was happening, but was unsure of his role. He could feel his erection becoming uncomfortable, but tried to sit back and enjoy the show. On arrival at the house, Marie-Béatriz quickly wrapped the shirt around her shoulders and went in, followed by Francis and Jacques. As her husband entered the lounge after her, she pulled him down onto the sofa, and kissed him passionately. Aline pulled Francis’ ear down to her mouth, and murmured : « You can feel how excited I am. Please will you make love to me in front of Jacques? I really want him to see us » Jacques sat at the other end of the sofa. « I’ll be happy to watch » he declared, « Don’t mind me! » Francis knelt at Marie-Béatriz’s feet. He slid his hands up her legs, and under the skirt. Without lifting it, he took hold of her knickers and pulled them down, as she raised her hips to help. He tossed them over to his friend, who admired the scrap of material,kissed them ceremoniously, and put them in his pocket. Francis unfastened the skirt, and pulled it down over her hips. Jacques gazed at the smooth skin of her flat belly, and as more was revealed, realised that she was totally depilated. As the cleft of her sex appeared, he felt himself breathing more quickly, and had no option than to release his erection from its prison. He stroked it, enjoying the total rigidity, and looked again at the couple in front of him. He could not help admiring Francis’ well-toned body, and reflecting that forty was not as old as he had thought. Francis was now naked, his own stiff sex bobbing as he moved down the body of his wife to kiss her lower lips. He opened her with his fingers, exposing her clitoris, then took it between his lips and sucked, hard. Marie-B gasped and gestured to Jacques to move closer. He stretched out a hand to caress her breasts, He hesitated, then took one of her nipples into his mouth, allowing her to feel the suction equal to that in her sex. Francis came up for air, and smiled approvingly at the sight. Marie-B pulled Francis to her other nipple and caressed the two heads on her breasts. « This is bliss! « she murmured « Francis, I’m so turned on. I have to ask you. I want it. Last night’s fantasy?….Please! » « Two men at once? You’re sure? Fantasy into reality…. It’s sometimes a disappointment…If you’re sure …Jacques? » « I’ve never tried… but If MB wants it, we have to do our best to satisfy her. She looks fabulous. It will be a pleasure and an honour to do whatever she wants» Marie-B turned and knelt by the sofa, her head on Jacques’ knee. Without looking up, she took his sex in her hand and caressed him slowly. Francis positioned himself behind her, and pulled her buttocks apart. She arched her back and he plunged into her vagina, making her gasp. She pulled Jacques’ sex towards her and kissed it. Francis moved slowly in and out of her, at the same time using his thumb to put pressure on her anus. He worked one finger, then another, into her. She squirmed, and said : « Now! » Francis pulled out of her, his penis glistening with her juices, and in one movement forced his full length into her heat. She groaned as the tightness was penetrated, then relaxed as the sphincter accepted the thick intrusion. Clutching her to him, and caressing her breasts, Francis slowly turned them both over. He sat back on the sofa, still buried to the hilt in Marie-B’s anus. She leaned back on him, her eyes half-closed. « I’m ready now. You’re so hard. » she gasped « I can feel you deeper than you’ve ever been. Jacques, please …. NOW!! I’m afraid I may chicken out if you wait! Jacques knelt between the spread thighs of the woman. She bent her knees and pulled them back. He could see her distended anus, stretched around his friend’s sex, below a vagina which she now opened for him with her fingers, pleading to be filled. Hands clasped behind his back, Jacques slid into her. She was soaking with sweat and excitement, eyes glowing and nipples erect. As he accelerated his thrusts into her, she cried : « Yes….Yes… I’m a beast… a beast being fucked by two animals!… Fuck me Jacques...Feel Francis filling me as well… I wish that waitress could see me now! I’m being sodomised by my husband and fucked by his friend at the same time. Oh! I can’t believe how full I am… I feel you’re going to split me open …. Do it to me… DO ME! » Visitor It is a hot summer's night. You decided to stop over and see me. You decided that you were going to surprise me. When you pull up you can see the bedroom light on and the blinds are just a little bit open. You peak in the window and see me sitting on the bed with a little teddy on. You can see that I am very hot from the weather. As you watch me in the window, you can feel yourself already getting hard. I get up and go into the bathroom and bring back a bowl of cool water and a washcloth. I take the cloth and get it wet and rub it on my leg. You can see that it feels very good. Then I do my arms. Then I take off my teddy, and start at my stomach. You can feel your cock getting very hard. I work my way up to my breasts and start playing with them a little bit. My nipples are hard from the cool water. You can see the water running down my chest across my nipples to my stomach and right to my cunt. Then I put down the wash cloth and keep playing with my nipples. As I am doing this, my other hand moves down to my clit. I start rubbing it and moaning just a little. You can't stand it anymore and go to my door. You go to knock but for some reason you check if it is open or not. And the door is unlocked. You slowly walk in and go down the hall to my bedroom. You walk in but I don't hear you and my eyes are closed. You move over to the bed and kiss me. I am startled at first but seeing who you are, I start kissing you back. Your tongue feels so good in my mouth. You are kissing me long and hard. I can feel chills going down my spine. You take the cloth and start washing my body down. Paying more attention in some areas than others. All I can do is just lay there and enjoy it. Then you put the cloth down and start licking my body. You start with the neck and move down to my chest and then to my nipples. You lick and suck on my nipples for awhile. I can feel me getting wetter. I love when you flick your tongue across my nipples. Then you move down my stomach and start to lick my clit. You can taste my juices so well because I am so wet. I start to moan which makes you only lick more. You put one finger inside of me while you are licking my clit. I start to grind on your fingers, I want more. I can feel myself getting close to a climax and I stop you. I bring you back up to my lips and begin to kiss you, nibbling your bottom lip and taking my tongue and lightly lick your lips. You hold me close and I can feel that you are very hard. I make you take off your shirt. I work my way down to your neck nibbling on it and the ears also. You are starting to moan a little. I move down to your nipples and tease them a little. You seem to enjoy this. I work my way down to your stomach and put my hand on the bulge I can see in your pants. I unzip your pants and pull them off. I nibble on your stomach and thigh, just enough to tease you. Then I take off your underwear, I can see your hard cock and it is all for me. I start to lick it up and down and around the head. I can hear you moan a little. This only makes me lick more. You grab me and tell me you have to have me. I tell you to lie on your back. So you do as you are told. I straddle on top of you, I take your cock and I rub it against my lips and my clit. You can feel how wet and hot I am. You are begging me but I want you to have to have me. I keep rubbing it up against my clit, you can here me moaning now and this is driving you nuts. Finally after you begging & pleading with me, I put your hard cock inside of me. I am so tight and wet, your cock spreads my lips wide apart. I can see by the look in your face you are not disappointed. I rock my hips back and forth and around in circles. Taking my muscles inside and tightening around you cock. Then I decided to turn my body around, so my back is facing you. This way you can watch your cock going in and out of my wet pussy. This seems to excite you very much. I make sure I go very slowly so you don't miss anything. You sit up a little and start playing with my clit. You can feel my muscle really grab onto your cock the more you play with my clit. I start to moan loudly, and soon I come to a crashing orgasm. You can feel the hot juices rush against the head of your cock. You don't stop playing with it and I cum again. As the second time I cum, you also start to cum. You trust deep and hard into to me which only makes my orgasm more intense. We are both exhausted but, I can feel you are still hard and can see that look in your eyes. You take me off of you and you stand up. You tell me to also stand up. You lift me up and have me put my legs around your hips as you put your hard cock inside of me. You carry me to the kitchen and set me on the table. I put my legs up on your shoulders, so you can get as deep as you would like. As you are pumping in and out of me, you start to lick my legs. I reach down and press against my clit, bring me to another orgasm. You feel my muscles tighten on your cock, which make you pump harder and faster. You start to bite my legs a little. I say more more more, which you gladly respond to my needs. You lean down over and start to lick my nipples, teasing them with the tip of your tongue. With one of your hands you reach down to play with my clit again. With in seconds I cum again. This time you decided to pull out and lick up my juice flowing from my swollen pussy. I can hear you moan a little from the sweet taste. You move back up to my clit to make me cum again. This one makes me scream loudly. I pull you up and say "it is your turn to cum again!" I get on the floor in front of you on all fours. This is your favorite position. You get behind me and put your cock inside of me. You start to rock your hips, moving your cock in and out of me. You can look down and see your cock, parting my lips, moving in and out of me. I reach down and play with your balls. This makes you go harder and faster. I tell you I want you to cum! But I want you to do something for me before you do. I want you to stop just before you cum. I want you to do this 3 times and the 4th time you can cum. You agree. I can feel you getting close and you stop. You wait a few minutes then begin again. You do that the 3 times I asked you to them you ask me Can I cum now? I say YES I want you to cum deep inside of me. A few more pumps and you cum. You moan very loud, for making you stop those times has increased your orgasm intensely. I make you stay inside of me, so I can grip you cock with my muscles. Your cock is so sensitive, and you moan every time I do it. Finally you lie down besides me and cuddle up to me. I fall asleep in your arms. You pick me up and put me on my bed, tuck me in and leave the way you came in, very quietly. Visitor Harriet Fletcher took one last look in the mirror to check her make-up. Her recent collagen treatment had helped mask some of the wrinkles but whatever she did, she just couldn't mask the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes. Yes, even though she had taken excellent care of her skin than any of her friends and looked much younger than her age, those tiny wrinkles at her eyes annoyed her. It's not that she was vain, and she didn't normally worry so much about her make-up, but she was expecting a visitor that morning. Now it wasn't anything too important, she had only mentioned it casually to her husband that she was expecting someone to come by and interview her. A friend of a friend of a friend knew this college student who was doing some census related research and Harriet had agreed to talk with him. She ran her brush through her hair, then turned to walk out through her bedroom. Her husband was sitting in the living room reading the paper. Fortunately he had not disturbed any of her meticulous straightening and cleaning from the day before and actually was wearing something more than his usual underwear and tee shirt. After a quick glance out the front window she walked into the kitchen and confirmed the coffee was ready. Checking the table in the kitchen, she made sure there was a variety of sweeteners and creamer available for coffee. She took a moment to arrange the two chairs at the small table, making sure they were both the same distance from the table. When she heard a car door close outside she walked back out into the living room and said to her husband, "George, that college student I told you about is here. I thought I'd just invite him into the kitchen for coffee while he interviews me." "Okay dear, I'll be right here," he replied, folding one section of the paper and placing it neatly on the floor before grabbing another. Harriet stood by the door waiting for the bell to ring, "I heard the car door, he'll be at the door in a moment." Her husband just nodded. After a few more moments she walked over to the window and glanced out noticing a taxi heading down the street. Wondering what happened to her visitor she stepped over to the door and opened it just as the bell rang. "Oh my, you startled me," Harriet said stepping back. "I'm sorry, I'm Martin from the college, and I have an appointment with Mrs. Fletcher. I'm at the right house aren't I?" "Oh yes, yes, I'm Mrs. Fletcher, Harriet, please call me Harriet," she replied, surprised that Martin was older than she expected. She had expected a young student but this man had to be in his mid-thirties at least. "I heard the car door but then it took some time before you got to the door..." "Yes, I had to pay the cab driver," he said seemingly staring just over her head. Holding the door, she stepped back and said, "Please come inside." The man then moved his hand forward, tapping the door frame and then the floor with his white cane before cautiously stepping inside. "Oh, you're blind," Harriet said, reaching out as if to catch the man. "Yes, I hope it isn't a problem for you." "Oh no, it's okay. I thought we would just sit down in the kitchen, it's over this way," she said, nodding toward the door. "Can I help you?" "If I can rest my hand on your arm you can guide me," he replied. Holding her arm out, she slowly walked him to the kitchen, where she opened the door and then pulled out the chair for him. She waited while he pulled off his backpack and then guided his hand to the chair. As he sat down she asked, "Would you like some coffee, I have a fresh pot." "Oh no thank you." "Are you sure? Or I could get you a soft drink or something, what would you like?" "Perhaps a glass of water please," he replied, pulling a small computer out of his backpack. "If it's okay with you I will use this computer while I interview you." Harriet nodded and then said, "Oh yes, yes that is fine." She grabbed a glass, went to the refrigerator and pushed the glass up to the dispenser. "Would you like ice in the water?" "Yes, please." She watched as a few cubes fell into the glass and then moved the glass to the water dispenser, filling it about halfway up. Stepping back to the table, she placed the glass down and then moved over to her chair. Running her hand down her skirt, she daintily sat down and crossed her legs, waiting silently for Martin to begin. As he was setting up the computer she took a moment to look at him closely, noting his heavy dark eyebrows, the long eyelashes and his dark eyes that at times seemed to stare out into distant space and at other times seemed to gaze directly at her. It wasn't until later, as he got into his interview and Harriet got up to get him some more water that she realized what it was about how he looked at her. When she spoke he'd look right at her, almost as if he were gazing into her eyes, but if she moved some without speaking, he'd look in her general direction, but he'd be staring toward some random spot out in space. Once she figured it all out, she tried to say something wherever she moved, enjoying to feeling of someone watching her so intently, even if he really saw nothing. The interview didn't take very long and all too quickly Martin was shutting his computer down. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his cell phone saying, "Excuse me while I call for a cab." "Certainly," Harriet replied, standing up, grabbing his glass from the table and carrying it over to the sink. She remained standing as he finished his call and then carefully placed his computer into his backpack. As he started to stand up, she moved over to the table, took his hand and helped him up. She waited while he pulled on his backpack and reached down to grab his white cane. He fumbled a bit trying to find it when she suddenly asked, "Do you use your hands, your fingers to see a person's face?" "Yes, yes I do." "I always saw that on TV and things and I just wondered." He smiled. "Would you like to see my face?" she asked. "Yes, that would be nice," Martin replied. She reached out and took his hand, guiding it up to her face. Closing her eyes, she felt his fingertips move over her face, amazed at how gently he touched her. As his fingers moved down past her eyes, she opened them and watched his face, how his expression changed as he moved down her nose. He smiled as he reached her lips and she wondered if he had found her attractive. Perhaps that was why he smiled. Harriet noticed she was breathing a bit harder as his hands moved over her cheeks and when he seemed about move to his hand away, she reached up and grabbed it. Surprising even herself, she held his hand and slowly guided it downward where she slipped it beneath her blouse, guiding it to her breast. She could feel his hand begin to tremble as it rested on top of her bra. Releasing his hand for a moment, she slipped her breast out over her bra and then moved his hand over onto her flesh, noticing him gasp as he touched her skin. His fingertips squeezed lightly and then moved to her nipple, which quickly hardened to his touch. Trying to control her breathing, she slipped her other breast out over her bra and guided his hand to it where he once again moved his fingertips over her nipple. Suddenly a car horn sounded outside. Pulling his hand from her blouse Martin said, "That must be my cab." "Yes of course," Harriet said, working her breasts back into her bra and straightening up her blouse. "Here let me help you," she said, grabbing his cane and handing it to him. As he turned to head though the kitchen door, she noticed him reach down and adjust his erection before starting through the door. She hurried, guiding him to the door where she opened it for him. Stepping through the door he said, "Ah, thank you for taking the time to talk to me Mrs. Fletcher." "You're very welcome," she replied watching him walk though the door and head out to the cab. She remained at the door until he climbed into the cab and it drove away. Harriet then closed and locked the door. Glancing into the living room she noticed her husband had apparently dozed off while reading the paper. She walked over behind the chair and then reached down, sliding her hands into his shirt. Resting her head against his, she began toying with his nipples. Watching as he woke up, opened his eyes and then closed them again, she whispered into his ear, "I want you." Glancing down she watched as his cock responded to her toying with his nipples. When she saw he was nearly fully erect, she moved around to the side of the chair, unfastened his pants and pulled it out, gently working her hand up and down its shaft. She watched as a glistening pool of pre-cum formed in the purplish head. Leaning over, she touched the tip of her tongue to the pool, tasting the bitter flavor before sliding her mouth over it. Sucking hard, she continued stroking his shaft while reaching her other hand to his balls, gently squeezing them. Not wanting to take this too far, she continued sucking on his cock for just a few moments and then stood up, unbuttoning her blouse. Her husband stood up, letting his pants fall to the floor as he grabbed her breasts, squeezing them through the bra. Harriet pushed her bra down, letting him run his fingers over her skin to her nipples. As he first pinched then and then moved his mouth to them, she reached behind her and unfastened the bra. He stepped out of his pants and began to head toward the bedroom when Harriet bent down and pulled off her panty hose and panties while asking, "George, where are you going?" Pulling off his shirt, her husband replied, "To the bedroom." Dropping her skirt to the floor, Harriet fell back onto the couch, spreading her legs wide saying, "I want you right here, right now." He quickly walked over to the couch, kneeled down between her legs and leaned forward. Harriet grabbed his cock with one hand, pulled her pussy lips open with the other and guided him in. His cock slid easily into her and he moaned, "Oh god you're wet." "I told you I wanted you," she replied, feeling his cock fill her as it moved deep into her pussy. "Now fuck me, please fuck me." She watched her husband as he eased his cock out of her and then plunged it hard, slapping against her. Knowing how he loved her to talk dirty to him she continued begging, "Please fuck me, give me your cock." Feeling him respond to her talking, she felt a wave of pleasure overtake her and she cried out, "Oh yes George, I'm coming, I'm coming." Her orgasm came so quickly it surprised her and it had just started subsiding when she felt it building once again. She looked down and could see her husbands cock as it slid out of her, glistening in the light before slamming back into her. Feeling his balls slapping on her ass, she raised up her hips and ground her clit up onto him as he filled her once again. Once again the pleasure splashed over her and as she came she cried out, "Again, I'm coming again." "Oh yeah baby, oh yeah," he husband groaned and then thrust his cock deep inside her as he came. Looking up at his face Harriet could see the expression of pleasure come over him as his head seemed to bounce with each spurt of his cock. Harriet continued watching him until he stared down into her eyes and then kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth as hard as he had pushed his cock into her. She kissed him back, feeling his tongue in her mouth, using her tongue to toy with it. She then felt his weight as he fell down upon her, both still breathing hard, her pussy still tight around his cock. After a few minutes she felt the odd void as his cock slipped from her and fell onto her thigh. Her husband then lifted his head and said, "Wow, that was incredible." "Did you think I was too old for that?" "Oh no babe, it's just that, wow, I don't know if we were ever that good when we were young." "Oh I love you George." "I love you too Harriet." Visitor We were a fairly staid lot. As graduate students we mostly just worked. We shared a nice house, with 4 bedrooms. Vivian was a neat freak, I was merely a civilized female, the two guys, Peter and Mark tended to be rather sloppy. Our landlady would come by periodically, and be upset at dirt or clutter. This tended to reinforce Vivian's position with the boys. Since we hated to pick up after the slobs, we developed a penalty system if chores were undone, or mess left out: Extra dishwashing duty if the kitchen was not cleaned, and similar stuff. It is a truth universally acknowledged that men don't even notice the mess and clutter that they leave in their wake. I grew up with brothers so I was used to it. I would complain a little if our shared bathroom was left dirty but otherwise I just got on with life. However Vivian apparently grew up in a home with just one male, her father. Her mother ran a very tight ship and made the sisters keep their rooms immaculate, clean up the kitchen every night and all that good "home making" stuff. Vivian once told me that her mother picked up after her father, almost as soon as he laid anything down. The lesson that Vivian learned from this was that she did not want to pickup after men and felt she needed to establish from the start that any man in the household needed to be neat and tidy. So it was from Vivian's up bringing that we had a penalty system for mess left around. However, she was not obnoxious about it. I think she rather liked Peter and so did not want to appear a bitch. We four graduate students mostly led our separate lives. Long periods of intense work punctuated by special dinners, bouts of intense drinking and occasional larger parties. Peter was rather full of himself and despite his good looks I did not feel any attraction. Mark was tall and slim - I found him very attractive. However beyond being polite he hardly seemed to know that I lived there. Life was uneventful. Then the visitor came. Vivian's younger sister was an extremely poised freshman. She was to stay in Vivian's room until she could get on-campus housing. Sarah was blond, blue eyed, with a body to kill for. Apparently she was really sexy, because the boys just panted along behind her, imagining what was under her rather skimpy clothing. Sarah tended to dominate the house. In the evening she lead us to go to more movies, particularly more adult ones. We had only a single bathroom, every one in the house was very proper about dressing gowns and making sure that the bathroom was empty before entering. But Sarah, set a new practice, she would walk the house in her flimsy nighty and barge right in if Vivian or I were in the shower. Once I saw her barge in on Mark, she simply smiled, and walked out again. Given that Vivian was apparently so proper, it seemd strange that Sarah grew up in the same home. A few days after Sarah arrived, Mark forgot to take out the trash for the Monday morning pickup. We had a house meeting after dinner, and Mark was awarded the usual penalty, which was to require an extra week of garbage duty. Sarah was fascinated by the process and in her sweet, demanding way, she asked about the penalties. "How did you decide on the penalties? Do they really work? This house is a pigsty!" Sarah was probably right that the house was a pigsty but she was only a visitor. What right did she have to be so rude? But nobody visibly reacted and when we described the official list of penalties, she said, "Oh, these are not severe enough, and are rather boring. Mark will just forget again about the garbage." Neither of the boys took much notice of me, or Vivian for that matter, but they fell over themselves in trying to respond to Sarah. "What kind of penalties should we have?" Peter asked "Something that will make the miscreant think twice before they do it again" she replied with a cliche. "The death penalty?" I asked with some sarcasm. "No, just say that whatever they failed to do properly the first time, they must do again, but this time naked." she responded promptly, so promptly that I was sure she had been thinking about this. "Wow!" said Peter, "That is bold. I am sure Mark would think twice, he did forget last week too." This sealed the fate. It was hard to argue against without being impossibly conservative, and any way, I was neat, relative to the guys, so I felt I would be immune. It would be fun to see Mark take the garbage out in the nude. However, Mark escaped doing it nude immediately since we thought it unfair to have a retroactive punishment. It was only 3 days later that Peter forgot to do his chore of unloading the dishwasher before going to bed. The next morning, Sarah called him on it. "Peter, the dishes are still in the dishwasher, you are such a slob. You know the new penalty." Peter was taken aback; he was not really ready for this. "Well, yes, I will empty it tonight, late, when no one is around." "Sorry, that is not the way it works, for a deterrent to be effective it must be sure and swift. You must strip now and put the dishes away!" Vivian and I nodded in agreement, I was still sure this would only be sloppy boy thing. Peter took it with surprising grace. He stood in the kitchen and carefully stripped, laying his clothes on the table. With "oos" and :"ah's" from Vivian and I on each item of clothing sacrificed. Sarah just stared straight faced, but I am sure she was trying to suppress a smirk. Peter looked nervous when he reached his underpants. They were boring boxers. He looked straight into Sarah's face. I think he thought that she would say, "OK, that's enough", but she did not. The equipment underneath was apparently ashamed and did not want to show itself. We all clapped as he pulled his boxers down. Peter turned away to finish stripping and started to quickly empty the dishwasher. Sarah had kept a stern face, but I caught her smiling to her sister when Peter was not looking. Peter was very careful about emptying the dishwasher in the future. Only a week later, I came home to a very angry Sarah. "You left you makeup kit all over the bathroom this morning Julia!" "Oh, sorry, I had a big meeting this morning and I was in a hurry. I will go clean it up now." "No, that is not good enough, what is sauce for the gander is sauce for the goose. If Peter can take his medicine, so can you!" Peter and Mark were there, grinning. Vivian stood back, but smiled, signaling that she was not coming to my aid. I was a very proper young lady, strict upbringing. Nobody, but the occasional boy friend, had seen me naked. I was surprised by a kind of tingling in my pants. It would be truly mortifying if my panties were seen to be wet. I especially did not want Mark to see me. "OK, but just you girls.", I pleaded. Mark came back, "No way, this is an equal opportunity household, it would be unfair if you were treated differently than us men!" "All right, but I will just undress in my room, as I did this morning....." "Yes", said Sarah, "that is fine but we will all watch". With trepidation I began undressing. Two women, the bitches, and the two men were watching every move and making unkind remarks. They were fully dressed – this made it somehow much worse. Not like undressing in a locker room. Not only were they dressed but there was no functional reason, or rational excuse for me to undress at that time with my housemates watching. It could only be interpreted as me putting on a deliberate, degrading show. "Very elegant shoes", as I slowly undid my trainers and pulled off my socks while sitting on my bed. "The sweat shirt is first rate", as I reluctantly pulled it over my head and revealed a lacy white bra. My covered boobs shook and tingled as I exposed them to my house mates. I desperately did not want any moisture on my panties. "Wow!", came a more genuine remark from Peter as I unhooked the bra and placed carefully on my bed. I was proud of my breasts, but usually kept them out of sight. They stood out and I wriggled them very slightly for Mark. This was the fist time I ever stripped for a mixed audience. Now I pulled down my jeans, nothing too dramatic here, but this did not stop Vivian saying "Oh, what nice demure white panties". I turned and quickly whipped off my panties before there was a chance to look for moist patches. I needed to keep my cool. As I turned back to the crowd, I had almost forgotten what I was revealing. My bushy, unshaved pussy was open to their ogling eyes. Even Vivian just peered intently at me. I felt deeply ashamed, a flush came to my face – but I felt even more moist. I tried to cover my treasures, but it just made me feel silly. Like Peter had with his ordeal, I wanted to get it over quickly. I walked into the bathroom and started to gather up my lipstick, face powder, etc. Sarah, now the bane of my existence, said: "Not so fast, you insisted on starting in your bedroom 'like you did this morning', so now let us watch you do the entire makeup task and then you can clean up after yourself." So, stark naked, I was forced to hurriedly wash my face and apply makeup as my housemates looked on. As I looked into the mirror doing my eyes, I could see all of them staring at the reflection of my nipples. They were hard and erect. I put a dab of lipstick on and turned away. This made my fine boobs wriggle to the barely suppressed delight of the boys. I quickly finished, gathered my stuff and ran back to my room. Thankfully, they gave me a break and did not follow. As I lay on my bed, I felt deeply ashamed and wondered why I had done it. Why did I let that bitch Sarah get away with using peer pressure to make we strip in front of my housemates, particularly Mark. What would he think of me now? What did it mean that I felt so wet? Two days later, Mark caught Vivian leaving her blow dryer in the bathroom. This was very unusual since normally she left the bathroom tidier than she found it. Sarah could not defend her. We gathered around, she looked flush, but just nodded and walked to the room she shared with Sarah. Vivien was always well dressed, particularly for a graduate student. "That's a nice blazer", said Peter, as she carefully placed it on a coat hanger and hung it up. Vivien paused before undoing her blouse, she looked at us all, and – I suspect – wondered if she could chicken out. But Sarah, the pest of a little sister, was there, and would never let her live it down. With grim determination of her face, she unbuttoned her magnificent yellow blouse to reveal a very feminine lacy bra. "Very nice", said Mark. I did not really like to hear Mark making such positive comments to her. She sat on her bed to remove here shoes and hose, and then she undid her skirt and let it drop. We all stared at her fine body. I was jealous. Tall, thin, with big curves. The boys had eyes for nothing else but her exposed skin. She turned and quickly unhooked the bra. As she turned back, there was clapping from some of us. She had great boobs. The clapping, and the catcalls from the boys, made her even more embarrassed and her face flushed red. Her own sister said: "Now those panties." She was wearing very light blue briefs. The moisture spots were obvious but no one said a word. She turned even more red, and quickly pulled them off. The boys were treated to a 5-minute blow dry job, as Vivien sat in the bathroom and ran the dryer on her dry hair. Her hair would come down to almost cover her boobs. No matter how she sat, every part of her upper body was exposed either directly on in the mirror. However, she was calm, with a controlled intensity that I had not seen before. Sarah made the most of her discomfort. "Oh, if our Mother could see her now." Vivian clearly had the full attention of the boys. I almost felt jealous, almost started to get wet. The next day, I left my personal shampoo out on the counter in the bathroom. I tingled all day. But when I got home, I was not greeted by a triumphant Sarah. My shampoo was safely back in my room. Mark did smile strangely at me. The next day, I was more blatant; I got up early, before Sarah, and left a lot of water and a soaking towel on the floor outside the shower. Then I rushed out. I do not understand the compulsion, but after the first time, I felt an addiction to having those clothed people stare at me. When I cam home, Sarah was furious. "What a pig, I found the bathroom in a big mess today, everybody else was still sleeping, so it must have been you!" I did not fight it. My loins had that indescribable feeling. The tribe assembled as I slowly took off my clothes. I had chosen carefully that morning. My sexiest, dark red bra, the minimalist of possible panties. I looked defiantly at them as I pulled up my tee shirt. Mark smiled at the bra. "Very sexy" I could have kissed him. Then I dropped my jeans and stood partially undressed before them. I could see myself in the bedroom mirror - I did have a great body – I said to reassure myself.. I slowly unhooked my bra, to release my boobs that were already swelled and erect. But my secret nightmare came true, Sarah pointed at the small patch of cloth in the covering my public area. "She's wet! She's loving this." I turned crimson, but kept my dignity and removed my soaked panties. Now Peter pointed. "She has shaved her pussy – now that is sexy!". I had, for the first time ever, given myself a very neatly trimmed bush. I led the throng to the bathroom. Although we only had one bathroom, it was quite big with a large open shower. I soaked my hair and began to wash my body. Mark and Peter had stood back earlier, not trying to be too obvious, now they pushed to the front and watched my every move. The visitor stayed back, she had a devilish smile. I was starting to regret my drive to be forced into nudity. The reality of being stared at by four fully clothed housemates made me feel tense and shameful. My nipples shriveled a little. "I had better get this over with", I thought. "What had possessed me to make me deliberately seek out this embarrassment. I turned away to quickly wash the front of my body, away from the staring eyes. But, the visitor was quick to pounce. "I am sure that you are not modest about your body when nobody is here to watch! You must do it just as you do it every morning. You always spend 15 minutes." I reluctantly turned back to face the audience and again put skin cleanser on my breasts and body. As I washed, my nipples grew again. It was too obvious. I quickly bent over to clean my feet and legs. This gave me a slightly less exposure. Then I got to my groin area. I planned just a gently cleansing and to quickly escape the ordeal. This time it was Peter who ambushed me. He must have a thing going! "Your bush is so nicely shaved that you must have done it this morning. Surely you should repeat that for us now?" That cow Sarah, was happy to twist the knife. "Yes, she must have trimmed herself this morning, just in case she was to be on display. Come on Julie, the boys are just bursting to watch you do it!" I had no choice. I got some cream and a new shaver. As I stood there, with one leg raised on the side, the boy's eyes seemed only inches away. Even the women crowded close to enjoy my humiliation. There was not much to shave, since the morning. Then I got my scissors and carefully trimmed the remaining hair. The experience of having that intense attention on my body parts was an extraordinary turn-on. I kept turning to rinse so that they might not see it. I finished my shower, and was allowed to run back to my room. Visitor I was cowering in a corner of my cell, when I heard the sharp click-clack of high heels on a stone floor. I pictured, with dry humour, a sexy warden wearing high heels and coming to punish the poor prisoner. That was what kept my spirits up in this wretched place; humour and fantasies. As the person with heels came closer, I was able to glance at her through the small barred hole on the cell door. Even from afar, she seemed like a formidable woman – beautiful face, long black hair, dressed in black from head to toe, and she somehow had this air about her... I can't explain it, except that maybe the best word to describe her presence would be 'charisma'. As she spoke to the jailor, her hands emphasized her words with vivid gestures. The jailor seemed scared, but showed admirable courage in denying the lady what she demanded. I already knew, watching from afar and without being able to make out the words of their conversation, that this woman had the self-confidence of someone who was rarely or never denied. And as it turned out, she wasn't this time either; when the jailor refused to give in, she up and walked away, only to return a few moments later with the poor jailor's superior. And this mysterious lady was granted an access to the prison. I was curious about this woman, and very much in love, even before I had ever talked to her. As she walked past my cell, I retreated from my watching spot, only to see her come towards my door and ask the jailor to unlock it. I retreated all the way into the corner, suddenly terrified. Even if being alone in my cell meant being lonely, someone coming to my cell usually meant very bad news. The woman stepped in, and the jailor closed the door behind her. For a while she just stood there, watching me. I avoided her gaze, but stole glances of her hands. Those big, strong, soft hands I suddenly wanted to touch. She didn't come any closer, respecting my personal boundaries; instead, she spoke to me. "Come here," she said, her voice soft and bereft of all that demanding tone she had used on the jailor. "Don't be afraid," she added when I hesitated. I took a cautious step closer, but hesitated again. I wanted to ask who she was. And what she was doing here. What she wanted of me? I wanted to believe she didn't mean me any harm, but as long as I wasn't sure I could not be at ease at her presence. As I stood there, eyeing her – still not her face, only those beautiful hands and the high-heeled shoes she was wearing – she extended her hand to me. "Come on," she renewed her plea, her voice even softer this time. "I'll take care of you." I froze at those words, and slowly lifted my gaze to meet her eyes. Seeing the warmth in them made me take a slow breath, just to steady my racing heart. And no more hesitating; I closed the distance between us, taking her extended hand, and she pulled me into an embrace. I closed my eyes as she pulled my head against her chest, caressing my hair. I inhaled her scent, a sweet perfume, not too overwhelming but certainly noticeable. For a long while, we just stood there, as she was holding me close and stroking my hair, rocking me softly in her arms. After what felt like an eternity, she planted a soft kiss on my head, then lead me to sit on the bed. Sitting beside me she cleared a strand of hair from my face, then took my hands into hers. As she was looking at me, I knew I could tell her anything I wished. "What's your name?" I asked. My voice was hoarse, since I hadn't spoken aloud in days. She lifted her hand to caress my cheek as she replied, "I'm Kaliopi." Content with that answer, I leaned in to rest my head on her shoulder. She kept stroking me, my cheek, my hands, my arms, my thigh. There was a long moment of silence, until I lifted my head to look at her one more time. She had a somewhat Slavonic face – with the big nose I always liked in Slavonic women – and long, very straight black hair, and judging by the wrinkles on her face she was in her mid-40s. Suddenly I realized I was staring at her lips, and wanting to do a lot more than just stare. I leaned in again, to whisper into her ear, "Te sakam." A wonderfully useful phrase, since it means both "I love you" and "I want you". I stayed close to her ear, knowing I was so close she could feel my breath. After a while I slowly retreated to meet her eyes again. The warmth in them was still there. I placed my hand on her cheek and leaned in...and the first touch of those lips was all but divine. She kissed me back, so tenderly I feared my heart would burst. As she slipped her tongue into my mouth, I inhaled sharply and, unconsciously, pushed my body against hers. Her hands were caressing my back and my sides, and the kiss that had started out so tender and delicate was becoming more and more passionate. She now took the lead, peeling my shirt off but never stopping the kissing for long. Then she gently pushed me down to lie on the bed, and came next to me, her hands now caressing my stomach. I can't even describe how wonderful those fingers felt on my bare skin. When her hand touched my breast through the fabric of my bra, the feeling made me hold my breath – long enough for her to let out a small chuckle and remind me to keep breathing. I smiled as I resumed breathing, and her hands kept traveling on my skin. Soon, she added another sensation, softly brushing her lips on the side of my neck. I tilted my head to give her better access, and she used the opportunity to kiss the same spot properly this time. She even sucked gently, not hard enough to leave a mark but hard enough to draw a very needy little moan out of me and make my hips buckle against her. She smiled against my neck, a smile that I could not see but could feel on my skin, and kept planting kisses down my neck. Her hand now rested on my inner thigh, and I was very aware of it being there, almost where I needed it the most but not quite. But she managed to distract me by placing a kiss on my breast, just on the border of the fabric of the bra. As I subconsciously arched my back, she slipped a hand under me and unhooked my bra, then swiftly removed the garment. It was gone so fast that I almost didn't notice. As the bra was discarded, she now had full access to my breasts. She placed small kisses on the skin, then swept her tongue over a nipple, making me arch my back again. She sucked the nipple into her mouth, stroking her fingers over the other one. I bit my lower lip, seeing in my mind how those beautiful fingers with bright red nail polish looked like on my breast. As she kept licking and stroking, my body was moving on its own accord, and I was becoming so wet that I seriously needed to lose my pants. Which she understood soon, taking a break from the caressing in order to pull my pants away. Panties followed suit without further ado, and so I was completely naked. Which reminded me of the fact that I wanted to see that gorgeous body of hers, too. She had managed to charm me so completely that I had literally been mindless for a while. Knowing that I couldn't keep my wits about me under her administrations, I decided to act quickly. I opened my eyes (when had I closed them?) and tugged the hem of her shirt, not finding words but wishing to communicate my intentions by gaze. She understood, lifted herself up a bit and removed the shirt. I lifted myself too, slowly bringing my hands to touch those big, soft breasts. After a while, she smiled at me and removed her bra, after which I simply couldn't resist and took one of those beautiful nipples in my mouth. She placed her hand on the back of my head and arched her back, and I was happy to fulfill that unspoken wish, sucking a bit harder, then licking, then sucking again. She took my hand and guided it to the other breast, then covered it with her hand, leaving my hand comfortably squeezed between her breast and her hand. Her quickened breath and soft sighs were music to my ears. After a long while of enjoying those gorgeous breasts, I lifted my eyes to see her face again. She placed a finger under my chin and gently brought me up to kiss her lips again. I did so, my hands on her shoulders, as she gently swept me back to lying down on the bed, this time coming over me, parting my legs and positioning herself between them. As her sex touched mine the first time, I gasped and ground myself against her, desperate for greater contact. She repositioned so that her sex was now against my thigh, and her thigh against my slit. I wrapped my arms around her neck as we found a steady rhythm of grinding against each other, pulling her down for a kiss. She tucked her long hair behind her ear, then took my hand and pushed it down on the mattress, above my head, her fingers intertwining with mine. She bit my lower lip, so gently it didn't hurt, but sent millions of little shivers down my spine, making me gasp into her mouth. As my breathing was getting quicker, she leaned close to my ear so I could hear and feel her equally excited breath, then she nibbled at my earlobe, making me moan aloud. She then lifted herself a bit, and I almost cried at the lost contact. She more than made up for it however, sliding two fingers into my dripping wet cunt. As she set a steady pace, my hips buckled to meet her hand with every thrust. Her lips were still only an inch away from my ear. "Do you want to come?" she whispered in a low, husky voice. I was too far gone to utter a simple coherent sentence, but I made a sound in the affirmative. And a desperate one at that. She kissed me on the lips, long and deep, and then leaned close to my ear again. "Come on my hand, little one. I'll be here for you. I'll take care of you." Those words again, and her quiet, husky voice, her breath in my ear – she drove me over the edge. And she kept me there, kept me riding the wave of my orgasm, holding me close and safe at the same time. It seemed to last for several minutes, and when I finally came back down, she squeezed me tightly against herself, kissing me on the cheek, on the forehead, keeping her arms tightly wrapped around me. I eased myself into her touch, feeling safer and more comfortable than I ever had. I fell asleep in her arms, as she was idly caressing me, sometimes muttering sweet little words for me. Somehow I knew I would be safe, and she would still be there when I'd wake up. I don't think I had ever slept that peacefully before, as I did in her arms that night. She kept her promise; she was taking care of me.