0 comments/ 19589 views/ 1 favorites Black Boots By: curiousqt The air in the subway station is warm and muggy. We had just gotten out of the Producers and were on our way home. It's late and the station is nearly empty. Your arm is wrapped loosely around my waist and I slip my hand in your back pocket as we wait for the train. You're wearing black pants and a black, button up dress shirt and I'm wearing a short black dress and tall black boots. "Did you enjoy the show?," you ask giving my waist a little squeeze. "Of course. I loved it," I answer. "I can't believe you got such great seats." I turn towards you wrap my arms around your waist and plant a quick kiss on your lips. "Don't thank me," you laugh as you look down at my upturned face. "Thank my new publisher." "I think maybe I'll just concentrate on showing you how grateful I am." We just start in on a deeper kiss when the train pulls up and we break apart and quickly step inside. We find ourselves all alone in our own car. We sit down and you begin rubbing my thigh just below the hemline of my skirt. "That feel so nice" I say in a low whisper. Your hand slowly moves further up my leg, slips under my dress and begins massaging the soft flesh of my upper thigh. We kiss deeply and my hand finds its way to the growing bulge in your pants. I begin firmly stroking you through the fabric as we kiss, feeling your cock grow even harder under my fingers. The feeling of your hand on my thigh coupled with the vibrations of the train are making me very excited. I can feel myself getting wet and squirm in my seat trying to encourage you to caress my aching pussy. We are still locked in a long, deep kiss when the train lurches to a stop at the station just a block away from your apartment. We practically run back to your place, eager to continue what we'd started. As soon as the door has shut behind us, you wrap me up in a tight embrace and lean down to kiss me. You push open my soft lips with your tongue and eagerly explore my mouth as your kiss becomes deeper and more urgent. Our bodies are pressed against each other and I can feel how aroused you are. I break our kiss, lead you over to the couch, and motion for you to sit down. Standing in front of you I slowly slip out of my dress and lacy bra. Now completely naked except for my boots, I straddle your lap so that my full breasts are just inches from your face. I lean back so that I am sitting on your lap, facing you, and I begin unbuttoning your shirt. You reach a hand up and to the back of my neck and pull me toward your mouth. We kiss, our tongues intertwining as I undo the last button and push your shirt off your shoulders. The feeling of your bare chest against mine as we writhe against each other is amazing. You begin kissing along my jawline, then concentrate your attentions on my neck. Your hands begin massaging my breasts, running your fingers lightly over my sensitive nipples. You gently squeeze the hard, little buds between your fingers making me moan softly. As you tease my delicate breasts I reach my hand down and undo your zipper. I slip off of your lap and kneel on the floor. I pull of your pants and boxer briefs in one fluid motion leaving you completely naked. I softly kiss my way up the insides of your thighs before positioning my mouth over the head of your penis. I wrap my warm lips around the head of your cock and run my tongue along its salty tip. I slide my mouth down your shaft until you are buried deep in my throat. I squeeze your cock firmly with my lips and begin sliding rhythmically up and down, up and down. I gradually speed up as I feel you grow even harder in my mouth. When I feel your muscles start to tense up I slide my lips over your cock one last time and pull away. "We aren't done yet," I say. I look up at you and gently bite my lower lip. "You're an energetic girl tonight, aren't you," you say smiling. "Maybe," I say reaching over into my boot and pulling out the condom that I had stashed there earlier in the evening in anticipation of tonight's fun. I slip it on you then climb onto your lap again. I bury my face in your neck as I feel you slide deeper and deeper into my wet pussy. I wrap my legs around your back and my arms around your neck. Your hands rest on my hips and you can feel me move, grinding myself against you. I love feeling how deep you can penetrate me in this position. We kiss hard as my movements become more vigorous. I can feel an orgasm building. The little moans escaping from my mouth as I get closer and closer to cumming are muffled by your lips. My fingers dig into your back and I gently bite your shoulder as I feel myself going over the edge. You can feel my muscles contracting as waves of orgasm go through my body. I keep holding you as the feelings pass. "Let's change positions Sweetie," you say. Glad to oblige, I move off you for a moment while you adjust so you're lying face up on the couch. You just lie there for a second enjoying the view of my nearly naked body kneeling over you. You run your hands up the smooth leather of my boots then continue up my soft legs. When you get to my hips you stop and guide my body down so that you are once again, buried inside of me. I lean forward slightly and press my hands hard against your chest. I use my arms and knees to push myself up and down on you hard member. I know that after all the attention you've gotten tonight you must be close to cumming so I try to keep take things slow to prolong the experience for both of us. After several minutes of slow, even thrusts I lean forward and lie on top of you so that our chests are pressed together and my arms are holding you around the neck. I brace my feet against the arm of the couch and use that momentum to help me continue to ride you. I can feel your hands running along my back and ass as we start moving faster and faster. Suddenly, your hands grab me tightly and your body tenses as I feel you explode inside of me.We lie motionless and entwined for a few moments enjoying the feeling of being so close to each other. We kiss gently and pull apart. I lie resting on the couch while you clean up in the bathroom. You come back into the living room wearing only a pair of boxer briefs and find me lying on the couch. "Come on Honey, let's go to bed," I groggily reach down and unzip my boots, slide them off, then follow you into the bedroom. We lie together cuddling for a bit, just talking quietly until you notice I am starting to doze off. You kiss me one last time on the forehead and say "Good night." I mumble a sleep "Good night" and turn over to fall asleep. Before I drift off completely though I feel your hand find mine under the dark covers. I fall asleep with a big smile of my face, thinking how glad I am we took a chance on each other. Black Boots ::Disclaimer:: All characters in the story are of or above the legal age to engage in sexual relations. * * * * * She stood, quivering, in front of the mirror. Faintly she heard the sounds of her father moving around downstairs. Her eyes flickered past the reflection in front of her, then darted away, too ashamed to look properly. She tensed as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs, then relaxed as they went over the squeaky floorboard outside the door and passed by. She shuddered at the thought of her father catching her like this. If he told her mum she'd be in such trouble. No, scrap that, she'd be in disgrace. She didn't know what had possessed her to do it. She glanced down briefly now, her eyes drawn relentlessly to the bare flesh she'd exposed. ***** The evening before had been a strange one all round, starting with that comment Tom had made. He'd been leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking beer out of a bottle and laughing with some of his friends from the Rugby club. One of them had spotted Sascha hovering nervously in the doorway and let out a low wolf-whistle through his teeth. If he'd been trying to make her even more uncomfortable then he'd succeeded admirably, laughing as her face turned crimson. "Oh dear," he chuckled, turning to Tom, "have I upset your little sis?" "Probably," he said, raising his eyebrows and sucking his teeth to indicate his feelings on the subject. "She's only a little girl." Sascha had turned and fled, the sound of rough, masculine laughter rolling down the hall behind her. She wasn't that young. One of the oldest in her year at school and about to go to college, she was old enough to have all the physical characteristics of a woman, it was more the way she carried herself and behaved around other people that made her seem so young. The thing was -- this wasn't the first time she'd been teased about her youth. Over the years Tom's friends had veered between a patronising friendliness towards his little sister, to a scathing silence that didn't even acknowledge her presence. Over the last few months they'd started this new campaign of whistling and making lewd jokes until Tom stopped them. Sascha thought she'd got used to it, and Tom always stood up for her, so she hadn't minded too much. As long as he was on her side she could take the teasing. But now, to be denigrated like that: to have her brother who she hero-worshipped denounce her as being just 'a little girl' and have a group of burly men laughing at her was enough to shatter anyone's confidence in themselves, so she slammed the door behind her and sat on the bed staring at nothing and thinking. She couldn't really quantify what it was that made her seem so young, but she knew that she was fed up of the assumptions that everyone made based on her youthful appearance. Slowly she picked up her laptop and turned it on. She clicked on the internet browser and typed 'women' into the search engine. She chose the 'image' function and sighed in frustration as a load of pictures of clothes came up. She thought for a moment, then typed in 'adult women.' Maybe that was a mistake, because suddenly a whole page of naked, porn-style images came up. Shocked, she was about to go back to the search page, but braced herself as she realised that perhaps this is what Tom had meant. Maybe it was the way she shied away from sex and her own sexuality that made her seem so young. She gazed in slight wonder at the pictures in front of her. One by one she deleted the letters of the word 'women,' leaving just the 'adult.' The pictures were now very definitely pornographic, with all sorts of intimate body parts on full and graphic display. Staring, she analysed the images in front of her, finding herself becoming entranced with the close-ups of genitalia. "Yuck, horrid word." She thought. Softly she said "pussy," liking the way it sounded on her lips, soft and whispery. She said it again. "Pussy." She felt braver now and for the next hour she browsed all kinds of erotic sites that she had steered well clear of before. She looked at pictures, read stories and 'how to' articles until she became intensely, uncomfortably aware of a growing heat in her belly. She squirmed on the bed, trying to satisfy some urgent need inside her, pulling the duvet between her legs and rubbing against it, but to no avail. As she lay there she started wondering about herself, whether she really did look that young or whether she could be as sexy and glamorous as some of those women. Cautiously she snuck into the bathroom, the only room with a full length mirror as well as a lock. Turning her back on the mirror she quickly stripped off her clothes, then took a deep breath and turned around. She was actually pleasantly surprised. Her body was fit and toned, with rich curves and as long as she pretended it was someone else's body she could see that it was an attractive one. Blushing slightly and checking that the bolt was still in place, she lowered herself into a sitting position on the floor in front of the mirrored doors and opened her legs. She wanted to look at her pussy and see if that, too, matched up to those she had seen online. She stared in bafflement for a second before realising what was wrong. Unlike the carefully manicured pussies in the pictures, hers was entirely 'au naturelle.' With her colouring being that of a typical English rose -- pale pink-and-white skin and dark hair -- the shock of pubic hair between her legs not only obscured the delicate contours of her pussy, but stood out in startling contrast to her pale skin looking messy and ungroomed. Without even thinking about it she jumped up and got her nail scissors out of her wash bag. A few minutes later there was a small pile of hair on the floor and she looked a lot neater, but she still wasn't happy. She liked the smooth, cleanliness of the porno girls and with her arousal growing ever stronger at this mini-makeover of such an intimate part of herself she grew more determined. Getting up again she rooted around in the cupboard under the sink until she found the waxing kit she used on her legs. She ran the sink full of hot water, put the canister in, waited till the wax had softened, then sat back down on the floor. She had only intended to wax the lips, leaving a small patch at the front like she had seen done, but the more she did, despite the pain, the more she enjoyed it. There was something so satisfying about making the skin smooth and unblemished and the pain was almost pleasurable once the endorphins had kicked in. Before she knew it she had removed all the hair from her pubis. Her pussy, although pink and sore looking, seemed so much more beautiful now. She spread the lips with her fingers, exposing the rosy pink centre that was oozing a clear, musky-scented liquid. As her fingers brushed against her clit she gasped in pleasure. She did it again, enjoying the tingle and hum of it. Again and again she ran her fingers across her pussy, all the time watching herself in the mirror. She loved how sexy and slutty she looked. Like one of those girls online she played with herself for the pleasure of a viewer -- even if it was herself. She felt confident and sexual for the first time in her life. Perhaps this was how all the other girls felt; why they dressed to show off cleavages and legs, flirted with boys, constantly talked about sex, even if they hadn't done it yet. She thought about those girls now, imagined being one of them, hanging out with them. She imagined what Tom's friends would think if she went downstairs wearing the sort of clothes they wore, her eyes heavy with makeup, her hair tousled. Her fingers moved faster as she pictured how it would feel to be the centre of all that male attention, to be the one in control, powerful, instead of the object of their jokes and teases. She'd laugh and flick her hair and they'd all go quiet as the strap of her top slipped off her shoulder. She dipped her finger inside herself, making it slick and wet with juices, then moved back up in little circles to her clit. Something inside her belly was clutching and tensing, like a cramp building up. She pressed harder with her fingers as she watched the blurry motion of them against her tender pussy. She could see the lips flutter and ripple in time with the squeezing sensation inside her and she focused on this as a strong urge to wet herself overwhelmed her. Instinctively she clamped down inside and everything came together. Her fingers froze in position as spasms of pleasure ripped through her belly and the hot place she'd rubbed with her fingertips melted and tingled. Slowly, slowly, her body relaxed and she became aware of her surroundings again. She was sitting on the cold, linoleum floor of the bathroom, her legs splayed, with her hand pressed against the most private part of herself. Her breasts seemed obscene with their pink flush and hardened nipples and her cheeks flamed with the afterglow of passion and the slow burn of shame. ***** She remembered all this as she stepped out of the shower the next morning and was confronted by the new nakedness of her body. The clean, bare pubis with its suggestive crease seemed both hideously childish and incredibly lewd when viewed in conjunction with her long, sinewy body and small, yet heavy breasts. Hurriedly she scrubbed herself dry with the towel, then pulled on the clothes she'd grabbed off the chair in her bedroom. She pulled on the navy blue skirt first to hide the worst of what she'd done, then looked round for her bra. In her hurry to get ready she'd forgotten to pick up any clean underwear and she could hear her mum calling up the stairs at her now. Quickly she buttoned up her white cotton shirt and pulled on her Navy, woollen jumper. She could do the tie in the car. She gave her hair one last rub with the towel, then threw back the bolt on the door and ran downstairs before her mother could shout any more. Occasionally she'd been without knickers before, and it had only been a few months since she'd actually started needing a bra, so initially she wasn't too worried about the fact she was lacking both items now. It would be far worse, she thought as the car crawled through the morning rush-hour traffic, to get another bollocking from Mrs. Haitley about being late again. Besides, if she got detention she wouldn't be able to go shopping with Hannah after school and she'd been looking forwards to it since they'd arranged it at the weekend. It was only as she was walking down the corridor to her form room that the vulnerability of her position struck her. What if she tripped and fell and her skirt rode up? What if she got too hot later and needed to take her jumped off? What if some of those stupid boys in the year below who delighted in tormenting her took it into their head to flip her skirt up? Her cheeks grew hot immediately and her hand trembled as she reached out for the door. She was just about to turn round and play truant for the day, when Mrs. Haitley came up behind and made an acerbic comment about arriving on time for once. After that she had no choice but to go in. She sat down at her desk in the corner and made sure her knees and ankles were firmly clamped together. Registration was taken, then they had some notices. By the time all this was done Sascha had become slightly less aware of her situation and crossed her legs. As she did so the rough woven fabric of her skirt became caught between her legs and rubbed against the bare, tender flesh there. She gasped and shuddered as the sensations of last night came flooding back to her. For the rest of the day she was aware of her nudity in a completely different way. Every feeling of vulnerability was tinged with a sexual nature now. If the boys lifted up her skirt then they might become aware of her sexuality. Maybe she'd have that power over them she had so relished when she imagined it last night in relation to Tom's friends. By lunchtime she had become so aware of her bare pussy and the new demands it was making of her now she'd awakened it that she had to lock herself in a cubicle in the toilets and try to quietly recreate the delicious sensations of last night. When she failed to achieve orgasm again she almost screamed with frustration. The part of her that had been so reticent before was shocked by the way she was behaving, but the newly liberated part of her was only the more turned on because of the forbidden nature of what she was feeling. When she and Hannah finally managed to escape school a period early and head for the high street she felt immense relief to have escaped without losing her dignity. She had to admit that, despite the fantasies of discovery, she wasn't ready quite yet to become the centre of that kind of attention at school. Blushingly she admitted to Hannah all about her interesting evening. Hannah, a sexually precocious yet placid sort of girl was not shocked and discussed everything in a way that made it seem quite normal. Mainly she was glad that Sascha had decided to tell her -- she was beginning to feel a bit far ahead of her friend as far as sex went. They wandered in and out of the various high-street shops as they chatted, spending the majority of their time in the few good second-hand shops, trying on silly or ridiculous outfits, each trying to outdo the other. Hannah won the silly outfit award when she grabbed a 1980s style, polyester wedding dress off the rack and wore it with a woolly bobble hat and a pair of cowboy boots. Sascha, trying to compete with this, grabbed a massive grey sweatshirt from the man's rail and a pair of black, patent-leather hooker boots and took them into the changing room. She took off her uniform, turning her back on the mirror so she wouldn't be confronted with her nudity yet again. The sweater was actually quite soft when she pulled it on, even over her bare breasts -- she might actually get this just to slob around in she thought -- then bent down to pull on the boots. They were stiletto heeled and had a metal zip running up the inside. The top of them was top so you could turn it down and have knee-high boots with a cuff, or turn it up and have Pretty-Woman style thigh high hooker boots. Sascha chose the hooker option, then turned round to view the result -- she almost choked. She was meant to look silly and slapperish, like a little girl in her parents' clothes or something, instead she looked astounding. The soft knitted fabric clung to her figure, outlining her breasts and clearly showing her hardening nipples. The sweater, a wide V-neck, hung off one shoulder and finished at mid thigh, leaving a gap of only 2 or 3 inches before the boots began. She looked like one of those models in the Sunday Magazines dressed up to show Shabby Chic or something. Despite her neat school-girl pony-tail and complete lack of makeup she looked older and innately sexual. Silently she got back into her school uniform, gathered the charity shop items up, took them to the till and paid for them. When Hannah tried to find out what she'd bought she was very impressed by the boots and ignored the big grey sweater. "Can I borrow the boots sometime?" She begged. "Perhaps," said Sascha, "when I've worn them a bit." She and Hannah parted ways soon after this, Hannah to meet up with the latest boyfriend and Sascha to go home. Her parents were both at work when she got back and Tom was off with his friends. Another Rugby match or drinking session she assumed. It didn't matter, she was glad to have the house to herself. She went up to her room and took off her clothes yet again. "Today is a very naked day," she muttered to herself as she fished out the box full of makeup she had in her dresser and opened it. It was a collection of stuff given to her over the years as presents or other people's left-overs and she'd never really put in on before. Hannah had shown her how to apply it and, with the help of some cotton wool to remove the mistakes she started applying some charcoal kohl to her eyelids. When she'd outlined her eyes she carefully brushed on a soft grey shadow from the outer corners in. It looked a bit harsh, but when she'd smudged it a bit she looked quite dramatic and her eyes looked really green. Quickly she blended in some peachy blusher so she didn't look so washed out and added a berry coloured lip gloss. Already she looked completely different and she smiled knowingly at herself. "It's just like a more grown-up game of dress-up," she thought to herself as she brushed out her hair and started to backcomb it a little bit to make it look fuller and more tousled. The long, dark locks streamed over her shoulders when she'd finished, framing her face sharply. She sat down on the bed and pulled the long, black boots on. For a moment she wondered if she should leave her outfit as it was -- the boots and nothing else, but she wanted to see the effect of the whole look. Pulling the sweater on over her head and tugging it down a little to make sure she was covered; she opened the door of her bedroom and stuck her head out. When she was sure the house was still empty she stepped out and sauntered across the landing. Once in front of the mirror she had to smile. The effect was exactly as she had hoped. She looked older, more aware and very, very sexy. It was amazing and she only wished she could actually go out in this outfit without getting arrested for soliciting. "Never mind," she thought, the outfit had been for her own enjoyment mostly anyway. At least she could wander round the house for a bit without anyone seeing. Holding firmly onto the handrail in case she tottered in the high heels, she carefully made her way down the stairs. She went into the kitchen, turning the radio on to a rock music station as she passed it, making the volume as loud as it would go. Pulling open the 'fridge, she stood still for a moment, intensely aware of her nipples hardening in the cold blast before reaching for a snack. She danced her way over to the sink, taking a bite out of the carrot as she went. It wasn't until the music got quieter that she turned round, to be confronted by the same group of sweaty, noisy young men that had filled the kitchen the day before. For a second she froze, but something about the clothes and makeup gave her a false confidence and, instead of saying anything or running away, she just smiled and took another bite of her carrot. "Sascha?" said the tall, blonde one at the front, not entirely sure that this self-composed young woman with all the bare skin, whose nipples he was trying to avoid staring at was the same person as the nervous girl in the school uniform who he'd been teasing for years. "Mmm," she said, raising her eyebrows slightly as she chewed the carrot and savoured the obvious discomposure felt by all the young men as they watched her wrap her lips around the carrot again. Twenty minutes later all previous hostilities had been abandoned and Sascha sat on the counter joking and laughing with all the boys, entering into the rude stories with the sort of gusto she'd observed amongst her contemporaries at school. Her legs were crossed demurely, but the sweater had ridden up her thighs until it barely concealed her bottom. The boots only emphasised the amount of thigh on display and with her head thrown back in laughter her breasts were painfully obvious and obviously entirely unsupported. This was the sight that met Tom as he came in after staying behind to shut up the Rugby club after practice. For a second he was struck speechless at this new view of his baby sister, but words flowed freely as his outrage mounted. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he yelled at one unfortunate lad who'd been trying to show Sascha a rugby tackle and still had his arm around her waist. Tom pulled him off and propelled him towards the door. Black Boots "Get out!" He shouted as he pushed him out, "the rest of you too! That's my little sister for fuck's sake! She's barely legal and you're all slobbering over her like perverts. Just get out!" All the boys had left by now, except for the tall blonde one, Tom's oldest friend. "Hey, hang on mate, there's no need to be like that." "Isn't there?" demanded Tom, squaring up to his friend. "You've known her since she was eight, do you really think it's appropriate to be encouraging her to behave like a tart?" "I don't think anyone was doing any encouraging," said Sean, moving towards the door, "she was dressed like that when we came in and I think she looks great. Maybe it's time you stopped imagining her as your little sister and had a look at what's really in front of you. "We'll see you at the social on Friday, yeh?" He said as he backed out of the door and shut it behind him before joining the others in the pub to laugh at the schitz Tom had thrown and make lewd comments about Sascha's tits. Tom turned his attention to Sascha now, as she sat perched on the counter. Deflated somewhat by the abrupt departure of her admiring court, she was nevertheless still feeling bolder than usual and was preparing herself to stand up to Tom as he faced her, nostrils flared like a furious bull. "I don't know what you're doing, but you look like a slapper." He said, assuming she had been aiming for elegant sophistication. "Whatever," said Sascha, choosing the most irritating word known to man as the best way to continue the debate with her brother. "Seriously -- have you any idea what those blokes probably think of you now?" With the air of desperation he tried one last tactic to shock her into a realisation of her situation. "They're probably going to go back home and have a wank thinking about you in that ridiculous outfit." "GOOD!" Yelled Sascha, getting off the counter so she could go right up to Tom and shout in his face. "At least they can finally see that I'm not some stupid little KID any more. I'm sick of being told I'm a little girl and the way you treat me like I'm incapable of looking out for myself. When are you going to realise I'm not any more?" "This is absurd," he said, shaking his head at her. "Just go upstairs and put some proper clothes on and wash your face before Mum and Dad get home and see what a tart they've got for a daughter." "No." She said firmly. "Why should I conform to what you think I ought to be." "You won't go upstairs?" he asked? When she shook her head and leaned back against the counter defiantly he seemed to make his mind up. He launched forward and rugby tackled her round her thighs so that she tipped over his shoulder. He lifted her up and carried her, fireman style, up the stairs. She couldn't kick, because he had her legs firmly gripped, but she squirmed and wriggled, trying to make it as difficult for him as possible to carry her. The sweater had ridden right up to her hips now and she could feel the air on her bare bottom. Desperately she squirmed some more, trying to get him to put her down so she could cover herself up. "Fucking STOP doing that," he yelled at her, moving his hand to take a firmer hold of her as they went up the stairs. His hand was right beneath her bottom now, his fingers on the inside of her thigh brushing against the bare lips of her pussy. He was concentrating so much he didn't register this, but Sascha was burningly, painfully aware of his touch on her. She went limp as she resigned herself to the humiliation of being treated like this and the embarrassment of her brother realising she was getting wet against his fingers. He barged through her bedroom door when he got her upstairs throwing her onto the bed with a grunt. "Now stop pretending to be something you're not and just act like the little girl you are." He said, shaking his head in scorn and wiping his damp fingers dry on his shirt without registering why they were damp. Sascha, lying prone on the bed with the jumper still rucked round her waist, saw him do this and was suddenly unaccountably furious with him. "When are you going to realise I'm not a little fucking girl any more?" she yelled, getting up off the bed and standing in front of him, almost at eye-level in her high high heels. "I'm almost beginning to think you WANT me to be a little girl for the rest of my life. Just look at me properly for once!" Tom's face flushed as his sister rounded on him, "I can see exactly how old you are," he said with scathing coolness, "not even old enough to have developed properly." He lowered his eyes to hip height and looked at her bare pussy with deliberate slowness. "You stupid prat!" yelled Sascha, infuriated by his patronising tone and the fact that she had lost all the power she felt she had had wearing her provocative clothing. Obviously she couldn't beguile her brother the same way she could other men, he was hardly going to be entranced by her attractiveness, but she could try and shock him. Without even thinking through what she was doing she reached down and pulled the sweater off over her head so that she stood, naked, in front of him except for the slutty black boots. "I waxed it off," she told him calmly, trying to stand upright and proud with her arms by her sides instead of covering herself up. "I feel more sexual this way. Just look at me Tom. This is hardly the figure of a little girl." She held herself rigid, defiant in the face of his ridicule. She was intensely aware of her bare breasts and the nipples flushing and hardening as he looked at her. Tom, too was aware of his sister's bare breasts. For someone whose whole face and demeanour was that of a very young, shy girl she had the most astoundingly mature body and he was struck utterly speechless. He hadn't been trying to make her feel small and silly, he genuinely had thought of her as young and in need of protection. He didn't recognise this fiery, sexy young woman who stood so provocatively in front of him. She was only inches away from him now, panting with fury and passion, feeling him watching her naked body, waiting for him to respond. His face was dark with some concealed emotion and she focused on every speck of dark stubble on his cheek and the way his nostrils flared slightly as he breathed out, rather than look him directly in the eye. The silence grew thick with unsaid words and their breathing had synchronised; Tom was clenching his fists, utterly dumbfounded by this passionate, independent girl while Sascha forced her hands and body to stay relaxed so he wouldn't know how uncertain she felt at this shift in power. Slowly she raised her eyes to his to see how he had taken the change in her. They locked eyes for a second and she saw the slight flicker of respect in his before they changed. Just as she had tried to take control of the situation by shocking him, he was now determined to do the same. If she really thought her female-ness and her nudity gave her power then fine, but she'd better learn the kind of power it was and what it could lead to. He grabbed at her upper arms, gripping the soft flesh tightly in his strong hands. A trace of fear flitted across her face and she tried to pull away, but he was far far stronger and he held her firmly. They were gazing intently at each others' faces now: the sound of heavy breathing all that could be heard in the small room. Her eyes filled with slow tears at the pain from his hold, brimming over till the drops ran down her cheeks, smudging the makeup. At this sign of vulnerability Tom pulled her closer to him forgetting the strangeness of their situation until he felt the hot pressure of her breasts against his chest. Sascha, too, was affected by the sensation of his shirt grazing her swollen and sensitive nipples. Swiftly her tongue flicked out and licked her lips as she took a quick gasp of air in and Tom was lost. The heat of her body on his and the sight of that sharp, pink tongue caressing her full lips utterly confounded him and before he could control his reaction he had bent his head to hers and pressed his rough, male mouth against those wet, pink lips. Sascha tried to pull away at this assault on her mouth, but Tom only pulled her closer to him. The taste of her was overwhelming and, with his eyes closed, he could ignore how wrong this thing was that he was doing. Sascha, who had never been kissed before, was distraught and struggled hard to get away from the savage lips and probing tongue that assailed her now. It wasn't long, though, before the rough sexuality of the sensation overtook her and her natural constraints. Just like the previous evening a heat began to build inside her, that squirming, tugging feeling that drags all the physical senses to the fore, squashing conscience and judgment into the recesses of the mind until they spring forth in the post-coital anti-climax. This is what happened to her now. Reason, sanity, logic: all flew out of the window as her body sent urgent signals requiring release and satisfaction from whatever source. Instantly her body became limp and compliant, allowing itself to be pressed full-length against Tom's. She could feel the hard proof of his desire now and her head spun with the intoxicating power of desire and being desirable. Their lips moved against each other and tongues entwined in mutual exploration. His hands released their hold on her arms now, sliding down her body to encircle her waist as she put her arms about his neck. Tom was unquestionably in control now. Deftly he manouveured Sascha over to the bed where he pushed her back and lay down on top of her, his weight holding her pinned like a butterfly; legs spread to accommodate his hips. Her fingers plucked futilely at his shirt while he ground his lips and body against her, forcing her to submit to him and his desires. She lost herself in the urgency of the sensations, responding willingly and fully to Tom's furious onslaught. The flesh of her buttocks was being squeezed mercilessly by his hands and the course fabric of his clothing made the insides of her thighs pink from the friction. Sascha's attempts to remove his shirt finally resulted in success when Tom reached up and pulled it roughly off and the bare skin of their bodies met. Sascha whimpered at the feel of his warm, lightly-haired chest against her sensitive breasts whilst he revelled in the hot, soft pressure of her skin. He paused for a second now, caressing the curve of her waist and the swell at her hip, looking into her dazed, green eyes as he kissed her more gently and deeply. They both slowed down now, savouring the sensation of skin on skin, the downy angles of her jaw, the rounded muscle of his shoulder. Every inch was kissed, touched and appreciated. When Sascha slid her hands under his waistband to hold the cool globes of his buttocks in her hot hands both of them sighed and pressed their hips closer together. He stood up to take off the last of his clothing, slowly revealing the thick, swollen length of his cock as it nestled in the dark hair between his legs. The sight of Sascha, sprawled promiscuously on the bed, arms and legs outspread, her pussy pink and wet, the grotesque black boots only enhancing her nakedness made his cock twitch and leap. Any twinges of conscience or morals were utterly forgotten now as he looked down on the eager, wanton woman waiting for him on the bed. It didn't matter who she was -- she was sexy as hell and she wanted him and nothing was going to stop him from taking his satisfaction. He took a step towards the bed, standing over her, surveying the mounds and hollows of her body. Her chest rose and fell with the rapid, panting breaths she took, making her tits quiver deliciously. The experience of being completely naked and completely open to someone else's gaze was shocking and exciting to Sascha, it was like watching herself in the mirror last night, only with the added heat of another's desire being reflected back at you. She longed for the touch of his hands on her body again, wanted him to touch the burning spot at her centre that had sprung into such vivid life. He knelt, now, running the stubbled surface of his jaw along the tender flesh of her inner thigh, making her moan. Softly he breathed hot air over her bare and pulsing pussy, flicking lightly at the velvet soft lips with his tongue. The moisture was seeping more insistently from her folds now, oozing out in honeyed drops that he gathered on his finger before pressing his finger to her lips. The musky taste of herself on his roughened finger was strange and exciting, whilst the hot, wet embrace of her mouth on his finger pushed him over the edge. He surged up and bore down on her with all his weight, thrusting his cock straight into her wet and pulsing cunt. The virgin tightness of her and the squeal of surprise and fear that she let out thrilled him and he dug his fingers into her hip so he could control his thrusting even more. Her pussy was engorged now, stretched as wide as it would go around his thick cock. Every wriggle and tremor heightened his pleasure and the scared face of his sister looking up at him as he drove his cock into her was almost too much. Licking his thumb he placed it against the hard little nub of her clit, holding it firm as he maintained momentum. The tingling friction of this, combined with the pleasure-pain of his large cock in her tight little pussy had its effect on Sascha now. From the fear and betrayal she had felt moments before at Tom's selfish rape of her body emerged a strange pleasure, part physical, part emotional from the humiliation and fright. Slowly she arched her back, pushing her hips up so Tom could enter her more fully. As his thrusts grew deeper she bucked her hips in unison with him, fucking him back. She wrapped her legs around his waist, the soft leather cool against his skin. Her tits trembled as her body was thrust back and forwards. Both of them were breathing heavily now, then moaning and grunting. "Oh God, Oh God, Oh God," Sascha started calling as that irresistible wave of heat pulsed out from her centre, washing over her and rendering her completely insensible to the volume of her calls. Her pussy constricted and throbbed around the hard length of Tom's cock, dragging him with her into orgasm. His mouth opened and his eyes shut as he tilted his head backwards with a hoarse, "ohhhhhhhh," that was almost inaudible. With a sticky sound he pulled his cock out, leaving a viscous trail of liquid connecting him to Sascha. She whimpered as he withdrew, her pussy feeling void and bereft without him inside it. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his eyes filling with tears before running from the room. Sascha stayed prone on the bed, spread-eagled, flushed, almost naked except for the long, black leather boots, semen smeared between her legs. "Why?" she asked softly, as the door swung shut behind him and her eyes filled with tears. Black Boots Goes Downtown Black Boots and her lover, Michael Gallagher, got into the taxi. The smell of body odor and curry was strong. Black Boots gagged. Michael said "Take us to 1st and 10th.Please." in his slick voice. Black Boots leaned against the seat as they lurched downtown. She mused...'It has been over two years since we reconnected'. The two first caught up on Linked In, where she worked at her first job as a corporate paralegal at one of the world's largest law firm, Glott, Marks, Gilman & Moore, twenty four years ago. When Boots put her info into the profile, all of the LinkedIn members who had worked in that company during that time period popped up. She thought 'I hardly know any of these people. I barely recognize any of the names except one: Michael Gallagher, now he's a partner. Business must be slow if he has time to play with LinkedIn. What fun! I had had a little crush of him. I never got to work with him but he always had a smile and a good sense of humor.' Boots mused further ' He just never got the message that I was interested. He was so awkward and 'old man looking' before his time...and yet it was his sense of humor that had attracted me then...His humor and the fact that I knew I had power to make him hard. I loved to see him squirm back then...he was so inexperienced. Now I have him. When I knew him back then, I wanted to own him and now I do.' Boots looked over at Michael. He looked straight ahead. He was always so nervous around her. He was tapping his stubby little fingers on the back of the driver's seat. 'He is like a little abused dog' she thought and touched the top of his balding head. He didn't even look over at her. Boots leaned over and blew in his ear and still no reaction. She bit the lobe and he reacted with just a slight movement an almost undetectable flinch. He was like a wall she thought. A wall that she could do anything she wanted with... The cab stopped in front of his apartment. He paid the driver. It was a walk up thought Boots disgustedly. Michael made so much money but he was the cheapest man that Boots had ever met. He didn't even own his apartment. He had had it as a sublet for years since he had first come to NYC out of law school. He paid $1,500 a month for the bug infested one bedroom apartment. He was phobic about going broke. Boots was not mercenary. It was Boots who had provided all of the presents for her lover. She loved to shop for him. It gave her power to make him beholden to her. She would never have wanted his money, if she took his money, he would have power over her. He never said thank you for the gifts she had sent. He didn't feel worthy. She had taken him to task, in her way, and now he thanked her. When they got to his apartment, Michael opened the door. He had cleaned up for her. She had stipulated that he hire an exterminator before she would set foot into his apartment. He looked so nervous. It was dark. He did not want the light on. She turned to him and opened her black bag "I brought a present for you. Let's go to your bedroom and look at it." She pulled out a ball of black material. Michael led her to the bedroom where books, papers and old take out pizza boxes were piled in stacks all around the room. They could barely walk, there was so much clutter. "Take off you clothes" Boots commanded. Michael hesitated but did as he was told. Boots handed him a black bra "put this on now." Boots had suspected that Michael had worried about his excess weight and man boobs. She did not care...she had wanted to suck on them for months. She helped Michael into the bra. Boots handed him black bikini underwear." Don't worry they are plus sized. Take off those boxers" Boots turned away. When Michael was dressed in the underwear that Boots had provided, she looked appraising at him. "Get on the bed." He did as he was told. Boots took off her coat and dress. She stood in her underwire black bra and leaned over the cowering Michael. He was so frightened he was having trouble getting an erection. Boots started to rub his hard belly. Michael was a drinker and his belly was like a round exercise ball from all of his fancy client dinners chased down with good wine. He had lived the stressful life of a workaholic who drank too much. Boots caressed his belly and put her tongue in his belly button. Boots knew that even if she could get him hard she would have to get on top and she wasn't ready for so much exertion...yet. She pulled his pubic hairs from the bottom of the bikini panties. She chewed on the small hairs. It smelled musty of old sweat. She parted his legs and pulled her bag closer to her side. Michael was motionless. Boots pulled off the panties with her teeth and started rubbing his anus with spit from her fingers. She stuck one finger in. He writhed in pleasure. Boots rotated her finger slowly in his butt hole and put her mouth over his penis softly. She was very gentle because she knew that anything more than a light touch with the tongue on the penis would be too much when combined with the anal stimulation. She stopped and pulled something out of her bag. She opened up a tube of lubricant and smeared it over the device. She started the vibrator on the butt plug and inserted it gently and slowly into his anus. Within minutes he had ejaculated.