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Euphoria

By: juleshugs



He opens the door just far enough to peer inside. She is standing in the bedroom, straightening a new framed portrait on her wall. He sneaks up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. She gasps in surprise as she feels his soft lips graze the side of her neck. Melting into his strong grip, he kisses her again, giving her chills up her spine. He runs his hands over her curvaceous body. His fingertips move slowly, caressing her slender neck, her full, heavy breasts, her narrow waist, her round hips. Lower and lower, searching with his fingertips, he makes her squeal with pleasure. 

He continues exploring her body. Caressing her shaven mound, he slips one finger into her wet depths. She moans gutturally. Closing her eyes, covering his hand with hers, she pushes his fingers deeper into her, taking pleasure in the heat that spreads over her body.

He spins her around and places his lips over hers, exploring her mouth with his probing, sweet tongue. He gently slips his hands under the hem of her shirt, slowly lifting her shirt, revealing her soft, supple breasts. He hardens at the sight of her unrestrained breasts with her nipples standing at attention. He lowers his face to one breast then the other, his mouth enveloping each of her round pink nipples in turn. As he is sucking, biting, pulling at her nipples, she grows wetter by the second.

Her face flushes as he takes a step back to admire her, naked from the waist up. She begins to speak, but he places his fingers over her lips, quieting her. He slips his fingers between her lips, letting her taste herself. As she sucks and licks his fingers clean, he grows even harder. She can feel his thick, hard erection pressed against her bare stomach. 

He reaches for the button on her jeans at the same time she reaches for the hem of his shirt. Quickly, they undress each other, hurriedly kissing and stroking every inch of skin as it becomes exposed to the chilly air.

He returns to her mouth, kissing her deeply. He lightly kisses her neck again, causing her skin to prickle with goose bumps. Holding her naked form against his own, he feels her shudder as he plucks the strings of her sexuality, massaging, squeezing, and running his nails against her bare back.

He lays her down on the bed with her legs hanging over the edge. Falling to his knees, he lifts her legs over his shoulders. He buries his face in her warm, wet cleft, inhaling her musky scent. As he sucks and probes her insides with his wet tongue, soft, feminine sighs slip from between her open lips.

He lifts his head and their eyes meet. She pulls his face to hers, peering into his bright blue eyes. She kisses him deeply, swirling her tongue around his. As the he tries to pull away, she sucks his lower lip in between hers, prolonging their passionate kiss. 

She reaches down and wraps her small hands around his engorged member, guiding him into her waiting cove. Gasping at his girth as he slowly enters her, she holds her breath. He slowly thrusts into her, into her warmth, into her core being. Immediately, she climaxes. Struggling to catch her breath, her muscles pulsate around him, bringing him close to the edge. 

Now burning with passion, he pushes himself in and out, in and out, faster. Breathing heavily now, she thrusts her body forward, matching his rhythm perfectly. A grunting moan, amidst his heavy breathing, issues from his throat. He pulls out quickly. She utters a disappointed sigh as she opens her eyes. She opens her eyes in just enough time to find his face directly in front of hers as he lifts her off the bed. 

He pushes her back against the cold, white wall, bracing himself against her, making sure she won't fall. As quickly as he pulled out, he is inside of her again, driving hard into her soft folds. She tries to catch her breath in between his rapid strokes. Her back grinding into the wall, and her legs wrapped tightly around his hips, she rides him, feeling him go deeper into her with every thrust. Suddenly, he pulls her away from the wall. She quickly wraps her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. He stands her up in front of himself and bends down. Pushing her full breasts together, he sucks both nipples into his waiting mouth at the same time. She sighs sweetly, moves her hands to his hair, and runs her fingers through his thick locks. 


Unexpectedly, he roughly pushes her onto the bed, suffocating her with his kisses, and pounding so hard into her, she thinks he might split her in two. He is grunting with every thrust now, whispering dirty things into her ear. She suddenly feels him thicken even more inside of her. She knows he's about to come. With one hand gripping the headboard and his eyes squeezed tightly shut, he drives into her, deep and deeper still, harder and harder, faster and faster.

The heat radiating from her core nearly encompasses her entire body. Glistening with a sheen of sweat on their skin, matching each other's rhythm perfectly, both aching to reach their longed-for peaks of pleasure, their mutual tension builds. His thick shaft fills her to completion. She holds her breath, feeling her muscles tense inside of her, feeling her impending release grow nearer. 

As she rocks her hips against his thrusts, forcing him deeper into her, she suddenly loses all control. As he brutally pounds into her, her muscles seize inside of her, gripping him tightly, bringing him over the edge. With one final thrust, he grunts and explodes inside of her. Her hips continue to buck against him, his pubic bone rubbing against her clit, bringing with it wave after wave of intense pleasure. 

Feeling his body trembling with the aftershocks of orgasm, she curls up against his naked, glistening body. Breathing in the scent of the two of them entwined, she basks in the cool air around them, lightly running her fingers across his muscular chest, he, running his fingers along her bare back. He kisses her forehead and leans his cheek against the top of her head. He drifts off into a light sleep. As does she, lulled into sleep by his steady breathing next her. 

..euphoria.. 

Euphoria



'Euphoria' is a wondrous place! A place that only the truest of lovers are ever permitted to enter - and even then, usually for perhaps just an hour or two.

A place of warm sunny days - days where the softest whisper of a breeze keeps it from becoming a little too hot. A place of balmy, sunset-flushed evenings - the technicoloured blaze of which is soon followed by deep velvety, star and moon-lit nights.

A place where no intrusion by the multitude of day-to-day troubles is allowed.

A place where voices are never harsh. Where greed, envy and jealousy are all unknown.

A place where no ache, pain, or even the mildest discomfort is ever felt.

A place where laughter is the loudest noise.

A place where one's beloved's body is - at least in your eyes - both perfect and in perfect harmony with yours.

A place where kisses are always either lovingly and moistly soft, or hungrily passion-filled.

A place where love-making is either mutually and joyfully spontaneous, or preceded by a time of leisurely, but increasingly tension-filled foreplay.

A place where climaxes are frequently synchronous - and even when not, always, always utterly rapturous.

Now I have been lucky and privileged enough to have visited 'Euphoria' - just the once. My visit lasting three days - or to be more precise, for exactly sixty-nine and three quarter hours.

And the fact that my visit was at such a very late stage in my life, should give heart to those who have not yet been offered the chance to go there.

And my admission that, even if the devil himself (or herself, or itself) offered to exchange an additional ten years of life for just one of the hours from one of those days, I would immediately and unhesitatingly refuse it - should convince anyone to not miss the opportunity, should it ever be presented to them.

Now those hours are - and always will be - so precious to me that I will not, ever, divulge their detail, but, as further encouragement for the reader not to miss their chance of visiting 'Euphoria', I will tell a little of the fantasies my lover and I had, before we went there. And say that even these fade to the merest, palest shadow by comparison with the actuality of the love-filled time we shared there.

The first two fantasies are hers, the third - titled 'Rapture' - is mine. Enjoy them, and hope that you too will one day be offered your chance to visit 'Euphoria' - and if so, grab it quickly and firmly with both hands!

These fantasies were exchanged during the period we were only on-line lovers, which we were for six months before our single meeting.

And finally, whilst I do - as always - use my own name, out of my continuing love and respect for my one time lover, I will only refer to her by a pseudonym - I have chosen 'Sue'.

Pantyless in New York…

Tony caromio,

Being very mindful of the penalty that you had imposed - so delightfully! - upon me for my apostrophe transgression, even as I was saying au revoir to my aunt I was gleefully looking forward to the opportunity to think sweet - and lascivious! - thoughts of you and me.

And although I knew the pastry shop would be the highlight of my morning I first of all went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, wearing that Italian silk dress I have so often spoken of.

Now it may have been the dress, and the fact that there was a breeze swirling and billowing the skirt tantalizingly, or it may have been my increasing anticipation, but simply walking up the steps at the front of the MMA was enough that all my senses came to the fore, and I began to feel that pressure between my legs that is such a giveaway that the system is highly tuned.

(I love the MMA - and thinking thoughts of you! - but I guess I was still a little surprised at both the suddenness and the intensity of those sensations.)

I went straight to the impressionist section: Monet, Degas, Morisot, Cezanne, Manet, Pissaro, Corot … and, coupled with the thought of your hand holding mine - and maybe creeping slyly elsewhere! - I was caught up in the heavy sensuality of the paintings immediately.

So much so that no more then half an hour later I had no choice but to remove the minimal lace panties I was wearing, for fear that they would become so saturated that I would begin dripping on the floor.

Without them, I could hope that my thighs would act as a runway, and the hope that the sticky fluid would be slow enough to dry as it ran.

That was fortunately the case, although the feeling of my thighs sticking together for the remainder of the morning, was a little disconcerting.

What was even more so was the thought of what you might do if you had in reality been there and I had told you what was happening to me. I could well imagine you finding us some little cupboard in which I could sit upon an upturned bucket while - in your loving kindness - you went down on me…

Frustration piled upon frustration! And for the two and a half hours I remained at the MMA those sensations only intensified…

Every fold of fabric, every expanse of beautifully silky flesh, every soft and lovely mouth in those paintings undid me.

The still lifes, the country scenes too, seemed almost as effective in maintaining my high state of arousal as those of the nudes and the formally dressed. 

However - unlike if you had been there with me - I didn't feel the need for release; just the totally overwhelming sensuality of my response.

I was a tad embarrassed when one of the doormen asked me if I had enjoyed the visit, and there I was, sodden panties in my handbag, naked under my gossamer light skirt, the scent of female arousal perceptible to me at least, and with high colour I asserted that it had been the best ever.

After that I took the subway to downtown Chelsea. Even there, when the train came roaring in to the platform, and my skirt billowed up in swirls and eddies around my thighs, my response was renewed at the thought of being so uncompromisingly revealed. And again I wished you had been there to perhaps at least catch a momentary glimpse of that part of me that you affirm is my very prettiest…

Nevertheless, with all those juices flowing again, I realized that I would have to quick-step it over to Le Pain Quotidien for refreshments, but fortunately it is only a block from the subway stop. Even as I walked in I had a glance in the glass pastry case and decided on the lemon tart, with cream would be the one that both you and I would most enjoy. A filtered coffee to replace lost fluids seemed a good idea too. 

When the order arrived, I was delighted to find that the coffee was served in a pot with a small jug of milk and a small bowl from which to drink. The lemon tart was topped with a fresh raspberry that was so suggestive in itself, that I was delighted to spoon it up with fresh cultured thick cream and to eat it immediately.

The cream was unlike any I have had since I was a child. Not whipped, not sweetened, but thick, smooth and rich, like a mousse.

I was about ready to climax from just at the sensation and taste. The combination of tart raspberry and that smooth cream was almost too much for me. 

Then came the tart; lemony and slightly runny. The perfect texture; not thickened to glue, but deliciously sensuously smooth and soft, lemony and fragrant. With the cream it was an erotic experience.

Even more so was the thought of you sitting opposite me - I wondered where one of your hands might be! - watching my lips and mouth slowly licking, sometimes - quite unlady-like - sucking, making sure I wasted not a single drop - maybe remembering what I said about wishing as to what those selfsame lips and mouth could have done with your gorgeous cock very late last night… 

Of course, as I been aware of the very real possibility of such a reaction I had deliberately pushed the skirt behind me - rather than smoothing it beneath me - so I was sitting on the (mercifully) wooden chair dripping a puddle directly onto the seat…

Then I ate the crumbly buttery crust, scooping up cream and lemony smooth filling with it. It was such ecstasy that I left the coffee until the tart was completely eaten, and even then it seemed a shame to wash away such experience and taste. 

As I said, all that while I was of course picturing you sitting just across from me on the other side of the tiny hand-scrubbed wooden table - mostly just watching silently. It felt a little as though you were watching me pleasure myself, and so, there was the sensation of self-consciousness, but mainly the incredibly erotically charged atmosphere that is inseparable from such a scene. 

I didn't want to finish, or to leave, so I just sat there for a long while, staring out of the window, but seeing nothing; simply overwhelmed by sensation.

Even the soles of my feel felt hot and tingly.

I wasn't sure what to do about the puddle, but eventually contrived to use a serviette to dab underneath the front of my skirt, cleaning up most of the sticky fluid, and then wiping the remainder off the chair with my skirt. 

Because I was heading back to my aunt's for the afternoon, I had to stop in at a shop to buy another pair of panties, just because I felt that it was too risky to remain without them and then to ride the subway back, many hours later. However, perhaps because I was in a hurry, or more probably, because I still had the images of you in my mind - and subconsciously selected those I thought would please you - I didn't choose particularly carefully, because even those new panties were saturated by the time I arrived home!

The Lincoln Centre Performance

Caromio,

Tonight I went to the Lincoln Centre to see the American Ballet Theatre perform "Don Quixote". I was writing to you during the afternoon, having not long since received an email or two from you. I was already very pleasurably aroused, and really just wanted to go on writing (talking) with you, so I kept putting off the time I needed to get ready to go out. 

Eventually I realized that I could not postpone any longer so I closed down the computer and went to get ready.

It had been an extremely hot day, and at 6.30pm was still very humid and oppressive, so I didn't want to wear the long red dress I had brought for such an occasion, due to the heat.

Seeing the French-pink satiny skirt on the hanger, I immediately decided that it would be perfect!

The skirt is knee length, its lines just skimming the outline of bottom and thighs. At the hem a border of fine lace, so that it looks a little like a blushing pink satin slip. 

The co-ordinating top is as fine and light as gossamer, all translucently patterned, apart from a couple of insets of double-layered fabric that conceal bra straps and cups. 

A lace border around the deep V-neckline allows a tantalizing view; right down to the tiny bow at the centre front of the bra, but it is essentially its delicacy, the glimpses it allows, and the knowledge of the translucency of the fabric that makes the top so attractive.

Furthermore, the whole outfit is beautifully cool to wear.

I decided that despite the heat I would wear thigh-high stockings, partly because I love the feel of them, and also because they make the whole outfit, with the silvery-bronze peep-toe shoes look complete.

As I was short of time, I put my hair up in a twist, for reasons of formality and also to remain cool by keeping my hair off my neck, then I dashed out of the apartment, with a small silver bag, holding the bare minimum of money, licence and keys, and managed to get a taxi unusually quickly. 

I arrived in good time, and began to enjoy the setting: the spectacular chandeliers that lit the entrance and the enormous open space formed by the grand curved wooden staircase sweeping both to left and right to form a huge horseshoe, up to the second tier.

Looking up through the centre of that space one could see the glass geodesic dome that formed the ceiling and rooftop, with sunlight shining through. 

The New York women were dressed magnificently, and I kept turning here and there to observe yet more attractive women and more gorgeous outfits. In this way I remained completely entertained until the beginning of the performance.

When the orchestra began to tune up, and I realized the crispness of the sound, I knew it was going to be a wonderful evening.

I was in the second seat from the aisle, right at the front of the grand central tier, with an uninterrupted view of stage and orchestra. Hearing the orchestra, I wanted to sit on the edge of my seat with excitement.

The seat next to me was empty, Caro, and I imagined you were sitting there right next to me. I imagined that you were tuning into my excitement to some extent, touching my knee and gently caressing the back of my neck. I was almost oblivious to such attentions, such was my anticipation of the performance. 

When the ballet began and I realized how artistically exquisite and technically brilliant the dancers were, I entered a kind of trance of pure delight - so I wasn't even particularly aware of your hand sliding gently over the slippery fabric of the skirt, rhythmically caressing from knee to upper thigh.

It was only when I felt your fingers softly slipping over the stocking underneath, that I was suddenly caught up in the sensuality of the situation and the fantasy of the ballet, each potentiating the other. 

As your fingers reached the lacy top of the stocking and then touched the bare skin above it, I realized that you had pushed my skirt almost right up to the tops of my thighs, and that I was faintly trembling.

I was wearing the silky mauve panties that matched my bra, and now your fingers were gently caressing back and forth over the flesh at the top of my thigh, edging ever closer to the extra sensitive spot closest to my crotch which by then was already saturated.

Even I could detect the scent of my arousal, despite the fact that I was concentrating intensely on the performance.

At this stage I had my bottom angled way forward at the edge of the seat, encouraging your fingers to easier access, whilst my pussy was contracting with anticipation.

Then with your fingers beginning to circle very delicately over the crotch of my wet clinging panties, I cup my right breast in my hand and begin to flick the stiffened nipple with my thumb, shooting tremors directly through my clitoris.

The prima ballerina is dancing a very showy solo, up and down on her pointes and pirouetting around the stage, one perfect turn after another. The audience clap wildly as she completes a series of arabesques, and you choose that moment to lean across and whisper, "I want to lick you!".

My arousal leaps to another level at your words, and then you begin to lick my bare shoulder in time to your finger now stroking my clit. My mind makes the connection between your words and what we have each said we fantasise about, and I am caught in an ecstasy of my own - somehow holding myself back, and not climaxing until the next - luckily - endless round of applause, my left hand clutching your thigh from the force of the orgasm.

As the lights come up, you smooth down my skirt, and then turning to me, you hold my face in your hands and kiss my mouth ever so gently. I catch my smell on your fingers, and shudder through several after-shocks, as you smile into the kiss, and stroke my cheek.

As the lights in the theatre brightened, I knew that we would have to stand to let the people in our row get past. Given your state of arousal I knew that wouldn't be so comfortable, so wasn't surprised that you allowed me to walk ahead of you up the stairs from our seats to the second floor lobby - with each step knowing your eyes would be fixed upon my buttocks, which were being so enticingly displayed under the satiny pink fabric of the skirt. 

We walked slowly through the lobby and then the grand hall, and you held my hand as we made our way down the sweeping staircase to the lowest level and there, I was able to show you the deep floor to ceiling insets in the wall where the photos of many famous performers were displayed.

You stood behind me with your hands clasped loosely around my waist, your continuing erection pressing hard against the back of my upper thigh - so I subtly shifted, and then, whilst we looked at the pictures, rubbed my slippery bottom against you.  

It was still very hot and the light glary outside, so it was a good choice to be down in the cool of the lowest level. I could put my hand behind me and feel the outline of your erection, slide my hand up and down the length, and tighten and loosen my grip, while you breathed and groaned into my hair. You had a handful of my left buttock - and with that, and the hard strength of you in my hand combining with the distinctively male smell of it, I could feel my own arousal renewing.

I so wanted to turn around and to remove your cock from the confines of your trousers; I wanted so desperately to lap the head like an ice-cream cone, sliding my other hand under your balls to gently cup and weigh them; to lick up and down the shaft following it each time with my hand; and then to slide my lips around it, gradually filling my mouth with as much as I could hold there, then sucking quickly in little bursts as I withdrew, flicking fast and gently with my tongue at the head; and then suddenly engulfing you again in the warm softness of my mouth; this time sucking hard and consistently whilst I withdrew again.

There would be such exquisite pleasure from lavishing so much attention on such a responsive subject! And that plus the fantasy of feeling you eventually gushing your life forces deep into my throat, makes me positively giddily dizzy with lustful desire.

However, there is little else we can do for the time being, so I suggest we buy a cup of tea, and you are astonished. "A cup of tea? Now? Whatever for?"

I smile resolutely, so - "Whatever my heart's own requires" - you murmur.

We drink our tea, which is of course merely a suitable distraction, whilst observing other audience members. I watch a very tall, young and slender woman in a glittering charcoal coloured sheath, fitted like a glove and opened at the front to mid-thigh. Long slender legs emerge from the lily-like skirt, ending in black stiletto shoes.

I indicate her to you. "She looks like one of the characters who people your stories", I suggest. An equally handsome young man accompanies her. 

Then I notice a slightly older woman, leaning against the bar, her back facing us. Her hair is brown and swept elegantly into a French roll, and she is wearing a perfectly shaped silk dress of wide coffee and cream vertical stripes. The length of the dress accentuates her most beautiful shapely calves and narrow ankles. 

However, it is her partner's long-fingered hand stroking sensuously up and down from the nape of her neck to the small of her back that has me mesmerized. There is something so caring, and so sensual about that caressing, that I feel like a voyeur as I watch, and feel the growing warmth in my groin.

I revert to the present, and note my own hand sliding up and down your arm at the same tempo. 

When the theatre bells ring you place your arm around my waist and we stroll slowly back to our seats in the centre tier, where we find that there are now empty seats around us, as people have availed themselves of better vacant seats in the midsection of the tier. We look at each other and exchange a long deep kiss.

"Caro, are you comfortable?" I asked, as we readied ourselves for the next act of Don Quixote. Although you looked puzzled when I suggested it, you - as always - indulged me when I said I wanted us to swap seats, so that I am seated on your left. However, I am concerned that now that you no longer have the aisle seat, your beautifully long legs might feel cramped. "Well, as comfortable as possible under the circumstances" you laugh indulgently.




Euphoria



The conductor takes the podium and the theatre fills with music. I am swept into the world of Don Quixote in the gypsy camp, with the most amazing colourful costumes and exciting dancing. I have my hand on your thigh again, my delight palpable through the heel of my hand sliding up and down, and my body leaning forward.

I feel your leg shift, and then you move my hand to your crotch, where I feel your erection quickly growing!

I positively thrill to your answer to my unspoken question. "That's just an example of what you can do to me." You say - and it takes very little time to become it a solidly hard column - and my own excitement ramps up as the music, plus the combination of the swirling dance and the feel of your cock twitching under my hand, all come together in my mind.

It is as though your cock is actually my own, and your sexual response is the echo of all that I feel. And I can't resist the impulse to touch and stroke, feeling every sensation in my clitoris. So all the time my eyes and ears are on that stage, the remainder of my senses are totally centred on your cock.

I massage and squeeze with my hand, doing so as slowly as possible, and then, when I feel those sensations might too quickly overwhelming you, switch to gentle scratching with my fingernails through the fabric of your trousers.

My clitoris tingles with growing excitement and now my pussy has joined the chorus, clutching and contracting in a kind of need. 

I lean over and as I daren't attempt it in the dark, with you sitting, and your erection so prominent, I whisper, "Undo your trousers. Please.". Meanwhile, I feel about in my handbag for one of the soft black paper serviettes that I souvenired with our cups of tea. 

Oh, and then when you place my hand on your already pulsing, rearing cock, it feels as though I might have one of the dancers in my fingers. And as it twitches and throbs in response to my touch I thrill to the head's soft responsiveness - like the finest velvet, yet brimming with so much power and life – such a contradiction makes me gasp.

Slowly I stroke it with just one finger, up and down, here and there, so that each touch is hopefully both surprising and unexpected.

To ease the tension my fingers take a short detour, finding your balls and softly and caringly linger awhile, gently stroking, rolling and then soothing.

And then back to the head again, which in the meanwhile has produced a quantity of slippery lubricant, which I begin to spread over it with my palm. At the same time I curl my fingers down, slipping them up and down over that even more sensitive rim - circling, grazing, working them around it, doing my best to make my touch excruciating in its delicacy.

I feel you shudder and exhale heavily, and I breathe it in and make it mine. I feel the rapidly increasing tension inside you, and taking the shaft in my hand I slide it slowly up right over the head, gently squeeze and then vibrate a little there, followed by a smooth stroke downward, all the way. 

Your cock is mine, and I know exactly what to do; to both excite and ultimately, to relieve. But I also know exactly how to prolong; easing off, then restimulating, then sometimes diverting my attention back to your heavily swollen balls.

It's not just the feel of it - the sheer excitement of having this gorgeous thing in my hand, within my fingers. It's also the knowledge that it's me that has created it for you, for us - that this very special part of you can be the source of joy and delirium for both of us.

Of course, by then your abdominal and thigh muscles are shuddering as the tension builds even higher - and under the music I hear your panting increase in speed and intensity. But I make you wait - teasing and perhaps tormenting you by pausing and stilling my caressing until I feel your responses ease - only then, slowly beginning the actions that will again start to take you on that ascent upwards into that earthly paradise.

But as our mutual excitement grows, the periods between easing off and resuming becomes less and less, until I can barely gauge where you are at.

And when I do try to ease off the next time, your hand closes over mine, and of course I know precisely what you by then need of me.

So together we take you on to the point of no return…

I already had the soft black serviette ready and as you gushingly erupt, I quickly place it over the repeatedly spouting head, catching all of it under the protective cover of its dark softness.

The odour is incredibly arousing, and my response is intense. I want to lick you clean, but cannot in the refined confines of the theatre. Still, I take a small drop and place it under my nose, where it tickles my senses, and delights me too.

Eventually, when torpor is overcome, you carefully pull up your trousers, and then you take my hand and bite it hard. I thrill to such intensity. It tells me all that I already knew....

During the second interval we make our way outside onto the balcony that overlooks the city. The air outside is much cooler now, and there is a gentle breeze teasing the hem of my skirt.

We both look out over the lights of the city twinkling in the darkness, both lost in thought and for me, at least, recalling the erotic sensation of your hard and pulsing, yet still velvety cock shuddering and jerking in my hand.

The thought alone, makes me wet again. I place my hand in yours, and you squeeze it gently and turn to look at me. The kiss that ensues transforms into one that becomes deep and sensual. I don't want it to finish. I am lost in the sensations. "What you do to me…" you sigh into my hair. I am speechless and simply squeeze you tightly.

Eventually I lean on the balcony, enjoying the cool air that swirls under my skirt and blows through the gossamer top I am wearing so that my nipples harden with the sensation of coolness. I feel alive and vibrant…and horny again, and with my bottom sticking out as I lean on the balcony, I feel a little like Sue in that story you sent me about one of our fantasy love-making encounters.

I fantasize about us playing out one of those scenes right there, right then - so of course, as the scene unfolds in my mind, my panties are saturated in no time at all.

How I long for you to slip your fingers into the lacy band at the top of those very wet silky mauve panties, to slide them down ever so slowly over my sensitive bottom, your fingers following in their wake, one hand dipping briefly into the humid wetness between my legs as the panties continue to be drawn down. Past my thigh-high stockings and down to my ankles, your hands sliding sensuously over my stockinged legs until I feel so weak that I can barely stand.

Already I am past the point of no return, and I want your tongue in the folds of my pussy right now.

Still I imagine that you lift my foot from my shoe and slip the panties over my foot, kissing my ankle through my stocking, which sends shivers up my leg, directly to my tingling clitoris.

You replace my foot in the shoe, and repeat with the other one. "Mmm", you growl, burying your face into my bottom through my skirt. The feeling of your face and the skirt on the skin of my buttocks is exquisite, and I begin to spiral out of control into that no-place that I find myself when the present becomes too full of feeling. Your growling into my buttocks vibrates on my pussy lips and I shudder with pleasure and anticipation.

You slowly lift my skirt, sliding your hands over my stockinged legs, and follow each move with kisses, through my stockings, and then, oh heaven, on the bare skin at the tops of my thighs.

There is wetness dripping down my thighs and you lap it up with murmurs of approval. With my bottom sticking out, and you behind me, I feel incredibly vulnerable because I can't see you; can't guess by seeing your movements what will come next; can only feel what it is you are doing. 

I want your tongue inside me so much that I thrust back but you catch my hips in your hands, and then gently, lightly caress my bottom with your hands moving in circles and random pathways. Your lips and tongue follow suit, and the cool air moving over the wet places raises my level of response to such a point that I feel as if I am about to come.

I feel so erotically overwhelmed that I am completely out of control, unable to halt or even slow down my response.

Although I am panting and gasping, you keep your movements slow and soft and steady, not allowing me to race on ahead at break-neck speed until I find my destination, which is my inclination.

You lift the back of the skirt and carefully tuck it into its waistband and then your hands travel up my back to loosen my bra. I feel you stand close behind me, the fabric of your trousers against my bare bottom, and, given how powerfully my fingers made you come such a short while before, am amazed to feel the rigid hardness of your penis pushing against me.

It is only then - only when the size and strength of you brings me back to reality that I discover that my imaginings have become my actuality.

The shock and thrilling realisation leave me totally breathless - so I can only gasp one single word. "Already?"

"I've repeatedly tried to tell you what you do to me Sue." Is all you have to answer to thrill me even more.

But, you caress and weigh my breasts in your hands, rolling and flicking my stiff nipples until I am unable to stop the climax that results. It simply pushes me off the side of a steep hill, and I begin to roll, over and over, powerless in the impetus of such momentum. 

You continue to flick and pinch my nipples and to squeeze my breasts, whispering sweet phrases into my ear.

When the upheaval is reduced to tremors, you gently slide your hands down my tummy and then over my bottom. A massive after-shock overcomes me and in the throes of it, you spread my legs wider and somehow manage to begin to blow gently across my wet and still spasming pussy. 

That sets off another, and this time you follow with your tongue, thrusting up into the centre of my clamouring cunt over and over. 

"Tony, I want you inside me now!" I gasp, still shuddering and trembling from the last climax, and when I hear the soft purr of your zipper, I know I am right on the verge of coming yet again.

And then I feel your cock sliding between my thighs, feeling as though it is covered in satin, in the slippery wetness there. I stick my bottom out further, in my need to have you inside of me, and then suddenly you are there, and I feel your cock slide all the way in, smoothly and deeply.

I hold you there, not wanting to do anything but revel in that feeling of fullness. 

Eventually I gently thrust back at you and you respond; sliding slowly right out to the rim of your cock, and then a few small thrusts just at that point, like little trills, and then a deep slow thrust back in.

It is so exquisite that I never want it to end, but of course, it is inevitable, and as I feel you begin to speed up, thrusting more powerfully, I feel all sensation reduced to that centre, and suddenly I am out of control, gasping and crying out, whilst you too, begin to groan and slam into my buttocks and thighs.

I flip into a series of rolling orgasms that mirror my longing for this. The resulting clenches and spasms in my pussy intensify your own orgasm, until we are both quiet and aware once more. 

We stickily ease away from each other…

"Caro, that was wonderful!" I sigh, languidly. "The best!"

You smile then, lovingly nuzzle my neck as you whisper hoarsely. "For me too my darling!"

'Rapture' - Morning

It was the morning after the first night of our three days of 'togetherness' - and given the power of the passions unleashed between us the previous night, we had both slept rather later than we normally would.

You did of course wake first - and spent the first few minutes of still drowsy wakefulness gazing across at me, wondering - not for the first time - just what seemingly magical forces had brought the two of us together. That out of the millions of people around us, we two - who not only mesh emotionally, but also mentally and physically - should somehow manage to find each other, seems nothing short of miraculous.

But we have, and the still faintly lingering echoes of the sensations you felt just a few hours earlier, attest to the strength of both the emotional force and to the demonstration of it in the thrills our bodies shared. And you felt yours quickly responding to just the thoughts and memories of even a couple of highlights of what at one stage seemed to be becoming no more than a never-ending climax.

Then, before those responses could turn into something much more demanding, you slipped out of bed and, having headed to the bath-room, then having slipped into the pink chemise and panty set that I had admired so much when you were unpacking, you went through to make yourself some much needed tea and toast.

And, as you didn't know what other times you might have to do so, you took that opportunity to get the print-out of your latest academic submission - which still needed proof-reading and revising before being sent off to your supervisors - then settled back in one of the two arm-chairs to read through it.

You were perhaps a third of the way through the papers, when you heard me stir, then as you had, heading off to the bath-room - coming through to join you just a few minutes later.

'Good morning my darling.' I whispered as I bent to kiss you - a soft but long-lasting kiss that left a hint of minty freshness in your mouth. 'Have you been up long?'

'No sweetheart, no more than half an hour.'

'I can smell that you've already had some toast but I suppose by now you're ready for more tea - right?'

'Of course.' you replied, smiling.

You watched as I prepared my cereal and made two mugs of tea - and although the smart new shortie-pyjamas were unable to disguise my body's ageing process, the recall of just a few of the joys it recently gave you, enabled you to see through those outward defects. And knowing that it is many, many years since I have shared it with any other woman, in some ways added to the undoubted and continuing appeal of it.

I sat on the opposite side of the dining-table, and although you appeared to be re-immersed in your reading, you could somehow tell that even as I ate, I was closely watching you. The ways my eyes washed slowly over you - lingering here and there - re-aroused the feelings you had had much earlier, only that time so very much more strongly.

You felt your breasts tightening, their nipples becoming sensitive to even the light brush of the thin silk that covered them. The ripples of warmth that triggered, flowed downwards, quickly reached to the very core of you. Then you felt your pussy moistening, swelling - so much so that you soon felt the slight pressure of it pressing itself against the silken covering.

You finally glanced higher - to see my eyes staring unblinkingly down, down at where that same triangle of the panties must obviously be showing.

Not for the first time you marvelled that such a very small part of a woman could be the focus of so many men's total entrancement. And although you finally believe what I have said so many, many times - that giving a woman pleasure there is one of the most powerful of turn-ons for me - you knew, from all the other parts of you that have also received such loving kisses and caresses - that for me it is not the only source of my received pleasure.

But, the mere recall of the almost gut-wrenching ecstasy I was able to give you by stroking, licking and sucking you there, only further fuelled the feelings of arousal that had been steadily strengthening as it continued flowing through you.

So, when I looked up and said - 'Do you really need to wear those?' - you unhesitatingly did what I obviously wanted you to, slipping out of both the panties and chemise.

You stood there, wondering exactly what I might have in mind for us - then when I said - 'Would you mind if I asked you to sit down again - so I can just look at you?' - you felt your cheeks colour, but did as I asked, even leaving your legs just a little apart for me.

Although it was probably for no more than a couple of minutes or so, the heavy silence, your naked vulnerability and the anticipation as to what might be to come, drove your excitement even higher - and seeing the steadily rising bulge between my legs, merely added to that erotically heady mix.

So, when I stood, moved towards you, then dropped to my knees - you finally let out a long, breathy sigh of hopeful expectation.

And of course I didn't disappoint you! Taking my time by first slowly slipping my fingers up and down the insides of your widely spread thighs - from time to time, bending to kiss, and then to wetly lick them.

But your breasts, and their by then tautly tingling nipples, were by no means forgotten - as my lips and tongue slowly glided up and down your thighs, my hands reached up; to cup, fondle and teasingly-lightly, squeeze them.

I heard your sighs and low grunting sounds, growing deeper, sharper - and recognising from those that your need was rapidly increasing, I spread your legs even wider, then slid my head high enough for my tongue to reach your pussy.

Even the feel of my as yet unshaved face, grazing the sensitive skin on your inner thighs, was another powerful turn-on for you - and you arched and pushed yourself forward so that I could more easily reach you.

Then I did what we both love - using fingers, lips, tongue and mouth in various and ever-changing combinations, to drive you up to what proved to be a series of climactic crescendos of increasingly utterly blissful rapture.

And although by the time you weakly pushed my head away, your entire body felt drained of every single ounce of energy - when you opened your eyes and re-focussed them, you couldn't miss the angrily engorged thing that was poking itself out from the front of my shorts.

Without giving me time to protest, you pushed me over on to my back - and having straddled me, you literally impaled yourself on my quiveringly straining cock.

By then your pussy was so wetly open that it slipped effortlessly deep, deep inside you - stretching and filling you in the way that only this one can.

Exactly what happened in the next period is still a blur to me - the excited elation I felt was so incredibly powerful that it entirely blocks out all rational commentary. All I can say is that those last final moments - when the almost excruciating agony your actions always produce for me became just about too strong to bear - were merely the precursor to an orgasm that felt like nothing I had ever experienced before.

'Rapture' - Afternoon

Perhaps not surprisingly, after the events of that morning, we had agreed that, although at least temporarily sated, neither of us wished to bring that intimate togetherness to an end too quickly - so, with our arms curled around each other, we quickly made our way back to bed.

For a long time - maybe an hour or more - we just lay there, tenderly holding each other as we talked. We spoke of so many, many things; music, films and books we both enjoyed; some of the events that had shaped the directions of our separate lives; the comparisons and the differences between your academic and my business oriented work. But, time and again we each found ourselves swinging back to our mutually and deeply shared love of Nature. Sometimes exchanging word pictures of scenes and behaviours we had noticed, at others, passing on some particular knowledge one or other of us had acquired.

There were so many different things we found to continue our conversation, and things which we frequently laughed about. And in fact perhaps we were each trying to absorb something of the life experiences of the other, and maybe in that way, seeking to enmesh ourself ever more deeply in the new found - and both suddenly, and so totally surprisingly - love we were each experiencing.




Euphoria



And of course we spoke of that love - each of us admitting that we oftentimes felt ourselves totally overwhelmed by the strength of the feelings that had so unexpectedly, and even so ridiculously suddenly, been generated between us.

You spoke freely of the joys I was able to give you; with a glance, a kiss, and of course with my hands and body. 'And especially with that wickedly proficient tongue!' You'd added earnestly.

I responded by saying that there were so many, many things about you that deeply moved me - both emotionally and physically. 'Sometimes it's hard to separate what's Love and what is Lust.' I said, then added. 'But if they ever make Love a religion, I would gladly worship it at the shrine of your body.'

But of course it was inevitable that the tender hold, would, in time, lead on - albeit subtly - to other, more stirringly arousing caresses. Then that those caresses would result in the kisses we both enjoyed so much. And that those kisses and caresses would, some time later, require me to assist you to reach yet another - if that time far more gently reached - orgasm.

You recognised that the one you had given me an hour or two earlier would have left me totally depleted, so had no expectation that I would be able to achieve a second one quite so quickly - but you also knew that I loved what I had referred to as 'low-level arousal' almost as much. So you watched my expression turn to one of blissful pleasure as your hands and fingers slowly stroked and stimulated my partial, though still highly sensitive, engorgement.

Much later, having answered the various calls of nature, then showered, we agreed that although the idea was initially tempting, neither of us actually wished to spend the entire time in that purely rented apartment. Then you suggested that a stroll through the Botanical Gardens might be a good idea; not only in itself enjoyable, but also providing us with a little alternative form of exercise. So, having made ourselves some sandwiches, packed fruit and other tasty goodies, we drove out to the gardens.

Of course being many people's holiday period, there was a reasonably large number with thoughts similar to ours - even if not for quite the same reason! But, as though we were unconsciously directing them, as we walked and talked, our feet took us slowly along much less frequented pathways.

So some time later we found ourselves walking steadily up a narrowly winding one that eventually took us up to a small hill-top garden of rocks and a variety of predominately succulent plants. But, as though in a sort of playful emulation of a monk's tonsure, there was also an outer ring around the area, which consisted almost entirely of low-trimmed grevilleas. On the far side of this strange and seemingly private place, behind a portion of the encircling shrubbery, one tree stood - conveniently casting shade for the park bench that had been thoughtfully installed immediately beneath it.

Of course we agreed that this place, this now very special place, had been carefully and lovingly prepared - just for us…

When we sat - our bodies touching from knee to thigh - we saw that not only had the bushes ahead of us been pruned to allow one to see out over the surrounding countryside, but also a view of one small section of the path-way we had climbed. And I think we both realised that in this way we would be able to see if any other venturers followed us - we would in fact receive plenty of warning that our isolation was about to be spoiled.

That time, as we ate and gazed out over the scenery, we were each strangely silent - and although I admit that my thoughts did sometimes return to what had happened between us just those few hours earlier, most of the time I was mentally pinching myself to prove that the reality of you was not just some impossibly improbable dream.

However, if what happened next was any indication, your thoughts were not along precisely similar lines.

Once we had finished eating, yet were still maintaining that relative silence, you turned to me, and reaching around behind my head, pulled me towards you, and kissed me. 

As you held me there, your kisses growing progressively more passionate, you dropped your other hand down to my thigh - intermittently squeezing it as your fingers moved ever higher. And, as I was wearing only silk boxers under those light, summer-weight trousers, when you reached what you had been heading for, you were delighted to feel that I already had a slowly growing erection.

What I didn't know was that you had a long-held fantasy of feeling me come in your mouth - and that you had decided that this was exactly the right time and place to see if you could bring that to a reality.

So, although my initial reaction was to start to return your caresses, when you stopped me, saying - 'No sweetheart, at least not right now, just relax and let me do my best to please you!' - I really had no idea of what your intentions were. At least not until you unfastened, unzipped, then pushed my pants down to well below my knees!

'Just keep an eye out for anyone coming up that path please.' you whispered as your fingers skilfully encouraged my cock's further engorgement - then, when satisfied with its stiffness, you lowered your head and, as your other hand burrowed its way up to cup my balls, you slid your lips down over the tip.

Your nostrils must have prickled at the already dark, musky scent of it - and you heard me mutter - 'Oh Sue! Oooh, darling!' - as the combination of your lips and fingers sent shock-waves of excitement through me when your hand tightened slightly and your lips began moving slowly up and down.

Each time they slipped over the still tautening rim of the head, I grunted and my body flexed in response to the thrills they triggered - and, recognising just how sensitive that part of me was, you concentrated on it; only occasionally relieving some of the clearly quickly increasing strength of my responses, by pushing your head lower, so your mouth could take in almost all the shaft.

In a matter of minutes you could feel that what had been a still growing cock, had become a rigidly hard and rhythmically pulsating one. But even as you continued, you probably couldn't help yourself from remembering how it had looked - and felt - at one stage of the previous night's love-making, when it had a particularly, and almost primally, fearsome size and appearance.

But - you perhaps rationalised - that was probably merely what your lust-fuelled eyes and body had actually wanted it to be, in reality - although it was certainly not an undersized one - his cock was probably only just a little larger than those you had previously experienced. No matter, it was this cock, his cock, that right then you desperately wanted - and it didn't matter in the slightest whether that was in your hands, your mouth, or deep inside your already moistly tingling pussy.

And by then it must have been moistly - if not positively wetly - tingling. I'm sure you found that holding, stroking and gently sucking it was even more exciting than you had it imagined it might be - and the excitement was undoubtedly added to by the fact that you were doing so out there, out in such a public place, and in broad daylight.

That place; plus the size, the feel, and this cock's barely contained power, must have all combined to make the feelings you were getting from doing it, far more intense than you could have ever imagined.

Then, perhaps only to prove to yourself that it actually had grown as fearsomely big as your mouth felt it had, you gripped the base firmly, then slowly - sucking hard as you did so - you pulled your lips back up, and right off it.

I looked down to see you staring, wide-eyed, at what you held - and had to admit that what you had already done to me had brought my cock up to what could very well have been its most impressive condition. The shaft, vein-gnarled and already pulsating with blood that still continued surging up into it. The head, glossily dark purple, and bulging grotesquely - the smeared mix of pre-cum and saliva only adding another component to its awesome appearance.

'Good god!' you breathed. 'No wonder it gives me the feelings it does when I have it deep inside me.'

And of course, as well as its appearance, there was also the smell drifting up from it - the dark, musky maleness that reputedly carries the pheromones that ensure the female's sexual excitement. True or not, that smell never fails to excite you - or as on this occasion, to further fuel the excitement you were already experiencing.

Then, doing your best to ignore your own body's reactions, you lick it - slowly and firmly, as you might when ensuring you get every last trace of cream from a pastry-fork. Licking from the deep groove below it, right up and over the still oozing tip of the head.





Euphoria



Once I was sure that your level of excited anticipation has begun to rise, as one hand slid up along the back of your leg, I lifted it, and started using my mouth and tongue to do to your foot and toes what my fingers previously had.

As at that other time - I don't think either of us could really believe just how quickly you became even more excited; it seemed each toe had its own separate connection to both your breasts, and to your clitoris and pussy, so as I concentrated on not only each one, but used my tongue to reach into those especially soft, and sensitively tight spaces between them, your sighs had soon turned to those harsher, and far more revealing gasps.

And by the time I had repeated those long, slow, and deliberately measured caresses to both feet, I could tell from the even deeper and more rhythmically staccato gruntings, that you were more than ready for what I next had in mind for us. So, pulling a cushion from a nearby chair, I lay back and pushed it under my head, then said. 'It's time to relieve that other sort of tension now my darling - come down here, kneel astride me.'

Of course you immediately knew precisely what I intended, and just knowing that it was my mouth and tongue that would be doing to your pussy what my hands had done to your feet and toes, sent your anticipation and excitement levels rocketing. And the fact that you had not yet got around to putting on fresh panties - coupled with your incredibly strong sense of urgency - meant you simply flipped your skirt up around my head as you moved to squat over me.

Now in that position I could not of course reach up to caress your breasts, so, as my tongue began to do no more than start slowly licking up along the wetness of the cleft between your pussy-lips, my hands instead slipped around and began caressing the delightful firmness of your bottom.

It was only when I had been licking and fondling you for a while, that I recalled something you had said in one of your letters - when you told me that the area around your anus was another particularly sensitive one. I decided that then was the perfect time to test that out! And, using one hand to spread your bottom cheeks apart - and increasing the pressure of my tongue by stiffening it and pushing deep inside your pussy - I began stroking a couple of fingers over and around that tightly muscled entry, then tentatively pressing one of them down against it.

The combination clearly did something extra for you, I could both hear the rapidly increasing tension in your grunts, and feel the strength of the tremors rippling through your thigh and stomach muscles.

So, as I shifted the focus of my tongue - from your pussy to your clitoris - I pressed my finger just that much more firmly, and felt it slipping just a little way inside you. And, once there, as I tentatively began pushing it in and out, my tongue went into over-drive - flickering faster and faster.

After all the arousing stimulation I had already given you, doing that meant that it took hardly any time at all to push you high over the top, and as I gulped down the sudden rush of fluid as the peak of that first climax ripped through you, your cries of euphoric exhilaration echoed loudly all around us.

But I was still not completely done with you! Yet!

Even as my mouth filled, I swallowed fast - then opening it and pressing my head more firmly up against you, I thrust both my tongue and my finger, as far inside you as I was able to, then sucked.

And as my tongue and fingers pushed in an out, I sucked again, sucked you hard and repeatedly.

Your climax went on - and on - and on, and as what I was doing produced feelings unlike anything you had before - and your body's ongoing reactions threatened to completely exhaust you - your cries turned to gasps, then to breathless and almost disbelieving whimpers.

Yet - even through the rhapsodic delirium of that seemingly endless orgasm - you reached behind you and immediately discovered that licking and sucking you had done what I have often said it always does to me. Feeling the size and obvious strength of the erection I had straining against the front of my trousers.

So, quickly unzipping, unfastening, then somehow managing to push them down, you moved yourself backwards until you could guide it up into the gapingly sopping wetness of your still convulsing pussy. And - quite unlike any of the love-making we had until then done together - you literally fucked me!

In fact you fucked me as though that might well be the very last one you ever had. Slamming yourself repeatedly downwards, moving ever faster and faster, making sure you jammed my by then fiercely throbbing cock both hard and deep inside yourself.

You heard yourself grunting - those deep and rhythmically staccato grunts that I have told you thrill me so much - and underlying them, my harsher, more guttural groans of the sheer and utterly mindless delirium your actions were providing me.

Like all passionate lovers, neither of us wanted those feeling to ever end, but of course we also knew that our bodies were no longer ours to command - and all too soon we each felt the other heading up towards that final, almost desperately and distraughtly driven physical rush.

As your already blurred vision darkened, as your body became nothing more than a vehicle for your convulsingly clutching pussy, you felt yourself somehow synchronising with me. By then you were being driven by some totally and uncontrollably powerful need - maybe something deeply primal - all you knew was that this time, you needed this cock, his cock, to spout its essences deep into the very depths of you. And to that end you completely ignored the momentary and wincingly flashes of pain as you jammed yourself down bone-jarringly hard - allowing the first of my mighty upthrusts to pierce you to the very deepest part, conscious only of the sudden hot stickiness of the first of my obviously massive jettings.

Then, gaining just sufficient consciousness to do so, you heaved yourself up and down even faster, clenching your pussy tightly - only slowing once I had finished spouting a long series of extraordinarily powerful gouts of it into you - and even then continuing to push yourself up and down its still remaining firmness, as though determined to ensure you had pumped me dry of every last drop of semen.

'Rapture' - Evening

Given how exhausting our day's activities had already been, we had both slept for an hour or two - our arms curled around our still intertwined bodies, our faces so close together that we each breathed the other's air.

When we woke, had washed and refreshed ourselves, we sat side by side on the balcony; sipping tea as we watched the slowly sinking sun, and gazing - mostly silently - out across the few scattered roof-tops, at the country beyond, and at the far surrounding and by then hazily misted hills.

'I'm just a little bit worried.' I said, breaking the over-long silence.

'What is it darling?' you asked anxiously.

'If the next two days are anything like today has been, I think I might have to check myself into the local hospital - for physical resuscitation.' I replied with mock sincerity.

You giggled, punched my arm, then said. 'That's not fair, you had me worried.' then paused before adding. 'But it has been quite spectacular - and I particularly mean your performance and your subsequent speed of recovery.'

'As I think I told you sometime, that's just down to what you do to and for me!' I replied, leaning closer so we could exchange a few of those lovingly lingering kisses we both adore.

'But now, to more serious things.' I said as we finally broke apart. 'What sort of restaurant would you like to go to for dinner tonight?'

You thought for a moment, then answered. 'Do we actually have to go out? I think there's a range of take-away menus near the telephone - and you brought some more of that lovely wine we had last night, didn't you?'

'Yes, three bottles - just in case!' I replied.

'Well then, why waste time going to and from a restaurant?'

'A very good question - and the answer's simple - we'll dial-a-dinner!'

It didn't take us long to find a brochure for a nearby Thai restaurant; the menu providing several very hot and spicy dishes for you to choose from, and a few of the less threatening sorts that would better suit my non-asbestos coated palate.

'Now -' you said as I hung-up the phone '- in anticipation that we might eat out, I bought a new dress to wear for you - and although this way I won't be able to show it off to the general populace, I don't see why you should be deprived of the possible pleasure. But it's up to you. So, would you rather watch me dining naked, or dressed-up a bit?'

I thought for a moment - the prospect of having you sitting there in nothing but skin, was of course extremely tempting - but so was the idea of enjoying seeing whatever you had chosen - then taking my time in anticipating the revelation of what actually lay beneath it. So my answer was in fact simple. 'Dressed-up please! That is providing I'm the one to take it off again.' I added.

'Done! In that case, if I'm to go all girly for you, I might need a bit more time than usual in the bath-room.'

'No problem - I'll just have a quick shower, then sit out here with a drink, while I watch the sunset - and spend my time imagining what you're up to in the bath-room…'

'Just don't get yourself too excited lover - I want us to make love to each other very, very slowly tonight. So I don't want you wasting any of what you might be storing up for me!' you replied with a wickedly knowing grin.

'OK - I'll be looking forward to that too.' I said as I stood up and made my way to the bath-room. 'I'll order the meal once you're ready, that way you'll have time for a G & T before it arrives.'

I'm pretty quick in the shower, so took the time to give myself a second shave - just to make sure my face was nice and smooth for you - then, as I didn't want to look too dowdy beside a well dressed Sue, headed across to the bed-room to put on something smart. 'All yours!' I called out as I crossed the short hall-way.

While you busied yourself in the bath-room and then the bed-room, I sat, slowly sipping a long, well-iced gin and tonic, watching the sky's changing colours as the sun sank below the hilly, far horizon. But my mind went skittering off on its own; sometimes recalling some of the many things we had done with and to each other the previous evening, but admittedly, mostly returning to that time in the gardens - when you had given me those totally unparalleled sensations, with your mouth and lips.

Now none of us is able to re-live the physical thrills we have previously experienced - anymore than we can recall the actual intensity of some excruciating pain - but the knowledge that it had been like nothing I had previously experienced, plus the definitely still vivid images that accompanied it, were all too fresh.

By closing my eyes I could still see the sight of you - your lips already stretched by the greater than usual size of my engorgement, your wide-staring eyes - sparkling with delight as you saw the obviously dramatically increasing tension reflected on my face - gazing up at me even as you continued pushing your head up and down the throbbingly rigid hardness.

Just the recall of that sight was more than enough to re-stir me, and I soon felt my cock thickening, then pushing itself firmly against my trousers.

Even though remembering what you had said about not getting myself over-excited made me try to think of other, much less disturbing things - I was not completely successful…

Normally, at least by comparison with most other women, Sue was one who could get herself ready in no time at all; even her make-up would be no more than a light dab of lip-stick. So, when she took some thirty to forty minutes, I understood she was making a very special effort.

And given I had to wait much more time than usual, and although I did spend most of it recalling either the delights of both the previous evening and that afternoon, or the equally strong thrills she'd given me just an hour or two before, I also found myself imaging what might be happening behind either of those firmly closed doors.

Perhaps I am just a little strange, but I have always enjoyed watching a beautiful woman dressing herself - getting almost as much pleasure from that as I do from watching her reverse the process. There is something highly erotic about a woman slowly covering those most sensually stimulating parts of herself, well at least to me there is.

The way she takes care to fit the bra-cups so each breast is both comfortably and sweetly held. Then what is sometimes the highlight of her dressing - when she reaches both arms around behind herself to fasten the two ends of the bra-strap. That movement, that position, both lifting and tightening her breasts, giving them the dramatically upcurving prominence that most men love.

Then the delicate lifting and stepping of each leg into her panties, and ensuring they fit her snugly.

And then, if the occasion calls for them, the even more stimulating sight of her carefully rolling and smoothing a pair of stockings up each leg, far up each softly rounded thigh.

And through all that, from time to time offering the watcher the opportunity to enjoy the sight of each of her erotically seductive curves.

So I imagined I was in the bed-room with you, watching as you did those things, then as you fixed your hair, your make-up, and finally, slipping into the new dress you said she had bought for me.

And of course the thoughts and images that flowed from that weakened resolve only served to further stiffen the by then throbbingly swollen length that I was absolutely unable to ignore.

But I still don't think that my state of highly charged arousal had any effect on my reactions when you finally appeared - I gawped, then stared, your sheer loveliness making it almost impossible to breathe.

'Oh darling, you look absolutely beautiful!' I managed to gasp when I had recovered my senses. 'I mean -' I added hastily. '- even more beautiful than you usually do! And that dress looks absolutely stunning on you!'

And it was - both its style and colouring suiting your figure and complexion perfectly.

It was apparently made of some very fine silk, the upper part - its halter-neck setting off the sensual beauty of your shoulders - in what I knew to be one of your favourite colours, French pink. That colour continuing down past the figure-huggingly tailored, but unbelted, waist, to just above the soft curve of your stomach, where it began bleeding, unevenly, into the dark purple of the lower third of the dress - the hem of which brushed gently against the top of your knee.

Beneath that I could see you were was wearing fine, flesh coloured stockings, your feet in high-heeled sling-backs a shade or two darker than the French pink.

Then, as my eyes drifted back up over the curves of your body, I saw that at the base of the modestly plunging neck-line, there was just an inch or so of lace - in the same French pink - which I presumed was a little of whatever prettiness decorated your bra.

As it meant I would probably have the pleasure of letting it down some time later, I was delighted to see that you had arranged your hair on top of your head. Its silky dark abundance held in place by a single large bear-claw grip, which matched the colour of both the shoes, and the glossy lip-stick and nail varnish.

That evening you wore neither necklace nor ear-rings, confidently relying on just the smoothly seductive whiteness of your neck and shoulders to set off the eye-catching appeal of that dress.

'Absolutely stunning!' I added when I'd temporarily drunk my fill of looking you over. 'And whoever came up with those colours and design must have had somebody exactly like you in mind when they created them.'

'Oh good, I'm so glad you like it too - I fell in love with it the moment I saw it. And sometime later you'll also find that at least for just this once, I am as you have always said you prefer your women to be, totally colour co-ordinated. But now where's that drink you promised me?' you asked.

I watched as the dress seemed to float around you as you headed for the balcony, then set about pouring us both a drink, before ringing our order through to the restaurant. 'They say it'll be about thirty minutes before they get here.' I said, then added as I handed the drink down to you. 'So that gives you plenty of time to enjoy this.'

The balcony was fairly narrow one, and along with the two chairs, had a slim but sturdily rectangular table. 'Now we can either spread ourselves out a bit and sit inside, or, if you'd prefer, make do with this table, which would mean us sitting side-by-side, but at least we'd still have the view ahead of us. Which would you prefer darling?'

'Oh let's make the most of this. It's a lovely evening, the view is pretty nice, and apart from that, I'd like to have you beside me.'

Once I'd moved the furniture around, cleared the table of everything except our drinks and the wine and glasses we'd be having, I settled down and joined you in slowly sipping the gin and tonic.

As we both prefer to do, we sat fairly quietly - most of the time, enjoying both the pleasure of simply being together, and well as the peacefulness of our surroundings - but every now and then, talking of this and that. So the half hour or so it took for our meals to be delivered slipped quickly by, and soon after, we were eating what proved to be extraordinarily good Thai food.

Having taken delivery of it I arranged the various components on a couple of dinner plates, and then as I placed those down on the table, I'd glanced down at you - and although the neck-line was not especially revealing, at that angle I could see not only the seductive up-curving of your always temptingly beautiful breasts, but a brief glimpse of the lace-trimmed silk that encased them.

The thought of holding, of gently uncovering them, then of kissing and fondling them - momentarily drove all thoughts of food right out of my head. But the scents drifting upwards - and the knowledge that you would be even more receptive to my caresses after you'd eaten - gave me the will to overcome such thoughts.

However, as I needed only one hand to eat the chicken and rice dish - and although it must have been a purely subconscious movement - before I was much more than half way through my meal, I realised my left hand had moved, to rest itself lightly on the spot just above your knee.

Now of course once I realised where it was, the feel of the warm smoothness of your thigh, even through its silky covering, reminded me of the pleasures I felt when either stroking, or - even more excitingly - kissing and licking it.

Perhaps it was those thoughts that set my fingers in motion - set them moving, but - mindful of how you had described you wanted that evening's love-making to be - doing so crawlingly slowly.

For some time you seemed to ignore the inching progression of my hand and fingers, perhaps your leg moved a fraction, easing sideways towards me, but maybe that was purely my wishful thinking. But by then knowing your speedy responsiveness to the slightest touch, although you neither discouraged nor dissuaded me, I allowed my fingers to gradually explore a steadily increasing area of your thigh.

It was only when you lifted the last forkful of food that you paused, turned, smiled, and said. 'You do like caressing my legs, don't you!'

'Of course I do - just as I love caressing each and every part of you - but even in spite of the delights of so many other places, there's still something very special about your legs - well, your thighs.'




Euphoria



'I wonder why that is?' you asked with a cheeky knowingness.

'Well, for one thing, they do guard that most precious part of you - so I need to ensure they recognise my touch as being that of a lover, not of an unwelcome intruder.' I replied with an equally cheeky grin.

You laughed. 'Well darling, I'm sure they know by now that your hands - and every other part of you - is an always more than welcome visitor to those parts. But -' you added - 'I'm sorry to say so, but I'm still hungry. Is there any more of this delicious chilli dish?'

There was and I got up to serve it, taking the opportunity of having another look down the dress's neckline as I placed it in front of you.

But that time I couldn't resist the temptation the sight prompted, and having placed the plate down, I reached down and around you and gently cupped the excitingly full firmness of your breasts.

You gasped, faintly - maybe a mix of both surprise and delight - as my hands held you, then my fingers did much as they had to your thighs, moved slowly and lovingly over and around their curves.

The feel of silk, on silk, on silk, was wonderful - the silk of your dress, against that of its accompanying bras, which in turn moved against the silky smoothness of your skin. And I found myself hoping that at least a little of the electrostatic attributes of silk were being transmitted to your always sensitive nerve ends, particularly those that clustered even more densely, around your nipples.

Maybe it was, or maybe it was the magic of my finger-tips that did it, but I quickly felt those rosebud tips, plumping, then thickly stiffening - and heard you give a long, soft sigh as you pressed yourself forward, pressing your breasts just that little more firmly against my caressing fingers.

'This is unfair of you - but please don't stop my darling.' you whispered. 'You have no idea what your hands do to me!'

'No more than what yours do to me - or, come to that, what fondling you does sweetheart.' I responded thickly, feeling my cock stiffening almost as quickly as your nipples had.

Then, while my fingers continued their slow, caressing exploration, I bent and kissed your shoulder - your neck - ear - then buried my face in that always welcoming curve where neck and shoulders meet, at the same time, breathing in the spicy headiness of your perfume.

But, remembering how you said you were still hungry, and certainly not wanting you to run out of energy later, I didn't distract you from the remainder of your meal for too long, leaving you with pleasure-filled eyes, pertly spiking nipples, and probably, already quite damp panties.

I poured us both a little more wine, than while you continued eating, just sat and watched you - feeling the love that I felt for you, flowing out to not only entirely envelop you, but then expanding to fill the corner of the universe that surrounded us. Yet again I marvelled that we two had found each other - in spite of the ridiculous improbability of that happening. Then not only found, but almost instantly totally meshed - meshed and forged this incredibly strong bond that I knew then joined us.  

You must have recognised the love-struck look in my eyes, you smiled, perhaps experiencing the warm glow of happiness that comes from knowing you are utterly adored. Perhaps fondly recalling the expression I had used about how I felt about you - 'But if they ever make Love a religion, I would gladly worship it at the shrine of your body.' - by then knowing that in fact it was not just your body that had enraptured me.

Once finished, I insisted you stay there while I cleared away the dishes, then made us some coffee to accompany the wine, then we sat, that time leaning toward each other, our legs pressing firmly together, our free hands linked - and although neither spoke for some time, watching the changing rose-gold colours of the sunset, each of us experiencing the sheer, ineffable joy of our togetherness.

'I'm beginning to think I made a bad mistake about my order.' you finally said.

'Why - what was wrong? I thought you were enjoying it.'

'Oh I did, it was delicious! The problem is that hot and spicy food always affects me, I mean, if its hot enough it often gets my arousal going - even if I'm not with someone as sexy as you are - and even if I don't get so delightfully caressed half-way through it.' You added with an almost woeful expression.

'So you started to get even more turned-on than you otherwise might have?' You just nodded. 'So what's wrong with that? I've never heard you complain about feeling sexy!'

'Oh I'm not really complaining, far from it - it's just that, as I said earlier, I wanted our love-making to be both leisurely and lengthy tonight.'

'Well it still can be - I'm sure that by just temporarily relieving your present discomfort we won't in any way jeopardise what might be to come later. Think of it as merely the small appetiser that is designed to sharpen your appetite for the main meal that's to be served later.'

And with that, without giving you time enough to disagree, I stood, heaved your chair around so you were facing me, then dropped down in front of you.

Even as my hands rested on top of your legs, you trembled, sighed 'Oh yes - yes please!'

With that, although I began by doing no more than rotating my thumb slowly round and round down the side of your knees, we both understood that by doing so I had started us on the way to the eventual outcome that we both knew so well.

My fingers traced increasingly complex patterns on your legs - at first not attempting to slide beneath the skirt, instead using the slipperiness of it to further enhance the feelings you were receiving. Only some time later, moving it higher, taking it up until I could see the fancy tops to the thigh-highs you were wearing - then adding my licks and kisses to the trail my finger-tips continued exploring.

Once started you had automatically eased your legs further apart for me, and as my progress up your thighs moved higher - making the first, only lightly brushing contact, with your skin - I caught my first glimpse of the panties you were wearing.

Although the light was fading fast, there was still just enough of it for me to make out their colour, fabric and design - and they were spectacular!

They had been made from the same fabric as the upper part of your dress, plus a little strategically incorporated lace - just as the bras I had also caught a glimpse of was - the same French pink silk, and identically coloured lace. The lace had been used to create a large, roughly triangular section at the front - through which I could see the dark shadow of your pubic hair - but it had been beautifully decorated with a curving spray of tiny rosebuds, made in the dark purple colour used for the lower section of the dress.

They were so pretty, so sensually attractive, that in one way I wished there was far more light than there was, and that we were in a position where I could admire them properly. But, I thought, there will be plenty of other times for me to do so. So I continued my slow, meandering kissing and caressing.

By then your sighs had become both more frequent and much more breathy - telling me that what I was doing was increasing the level of arousal you had already been feeling - so I eased your legs even further apart, then began kissing and licking my way slowly up the insides of your thighs. At the same time as I did so, allowing my hands to drift higher, skimming them slowly across the smooth softness of your skin, then finally splaying their fingers out across your pubis.

You gasped as my thumb slipped down and pressed against the already moist silk that covered your pussy, then grunted as it pressed inwards - pushing between your poutingly swollen pussy-lips.

While keeping it there, feeling the silk I had carried with it absorbing more of the apparently free-flowing juices, I pulled back my left arm, pushed it around behind you, and tugged you further forward, until your bottom was right on the edge of the chair. And immediately understanding my intention, you spread your legs even wider for me.

Of course it would have been better if I had slipped your panties off earlier, but I wasn't prepared to break whatever roller-coaster was by then carrying you, so I simply pushed the crotch to one side, then buried my face in the space between your silky smooth thighs.

I slid two fingers up where my thumb had previously been - but burrowing them deeper - and at the same time that my tongue busied itself on your clitoris, I curled them and began probing for that sometimes hard to find g-spot.

Perhaps because by then you had already become intensely aroused, that time I had no trouble at all, and within just a minute or two of licking and stroking, I heard your by then familiar, sharply staccato grunting. A pattern of response that I knew indicated your approaching climax.

You came, loudly and lengthily, doing your best to both jerk yourself hard up against my still fast-licking tongue, and down on to my deep-rubbing fingers.

I continued on, until I felt you finally begin to wind down from the heights you had been to, only then lifting myself high enough to take your face in my hands, and kiss you with my pussy-juice smeared mouth.

It took you a while, but when you had finally recovered sufficiently, you said in what was a still breathlessly soft whisper. 'If that was merely the appetiser, I'm not sure I'll be able to give the following course its full justice.'

'Oh if I know you as well as I think I'm starting to, I'm sure that when it comes to it, you'll be more than ready for the main course. But for now, how about a little more wine?'

'Oh yes please!'

So, while you readjusted your dress - only half-heartedly lamenting that it would now already need dry-cleaning before you could wear it again - I poured us the last of the wine, then we once again sat - holding hands as we gazed out across the by then rapidly darkening landscape.

'You know -' you said in a still soft voice, in which I thought I detected a note of almost wistful sorrow, '- it's going to be impossibly hard to manage without your special style of love-making. It's going to be difficult enough to slip back into my normal day-to-day life, but what you do to me with your hands - and of course especially with your tongue - well, if I'm not already, I'm sure that by the end of these few days together, I'm going to be totally addicted to it!'

'Well perhaps that will encourage you to make an extra effort for us to repeat this meeting.'

'Oh I have no doubt about that darling! I had already decided that, so long as that was what you wanted - and we could somehow arrange it - I'd be there, and, as they say, with bells on!'

Now it was the use of that phrase that jogged my memory. 'Hold on a tick, that reminds me!' I said, pushing back from the table and heading for the bed-room.

I returned a minute or so later, carrying a small, tissue wrapped package. 'Now before you unwrap that, let me remind you of something we wrote about.' I said, placing it down on the table beside you.

'You may remember that quite early on in our correspondence, the matter of oral sex came up - and I said that the reason I frequently included scenes where my male characters went down on their lover, was because in reality that was almost the very best part of lovemaking for me.'

You smiled and nodded. 'I certainly remember that - and how hot it made me to just read what you'd written. And, in a funny sort of way, it was just one more of the things that made me a bit more determined to first write to you.' You added with that wickedly mischievous smile of yours.

'The things we do - and what prompts them' I said, then continued. 'Well you subsequently said that if you were my lover you would be more than ready for me to do that whenever I wanted to - and that there might well be times, not always convenient times, when you might even demand it!'

You grinned. 'I know, I don't know what got into me, but I do remember that I was feeling particularly wanton that day.'

'Well, good for you! But this little package is for just such occasions. You can open it now.'

Your expression reflected both your obvious curiosity and lack of comprehension, which quickly turned to a sparkling eyed, full-bodied laugh, when you unwrapped the small brass bell - on which I'd had your initials engraved.

'It's small enough so you can to carry it at all times - then, when you feel the need for my special love-licking, just give a little ring, and - like a well-trained Pavlovian - I promise you I'll come running.'

'What if we're out somewhere - the shops, the art gallery for instance?'

'Trust me, I'll find us somewhere - it may have to be no more than a broom cupboard or something - but I'll find somewhere where I can be of service to you.'

'I don't think sitting on an upturned bucket while my lover goes down on me, was ever one of my particularly fulfilling fantasies - but you never know, the sheer unexpectedness of it could well make it exciting.' You replied, then went on in a slightly more serious tone. 'But it's a sweet gift darling, thank you, I'll certainly treasure it. And I promise not to over-use it, well at least not too much!' you added with a knowing grin.

'I assure you that I have a tongue that never tires - at least not when it's licking you.'

By then the light was fading fast, and maybe it was the oncoming darkness that prompted it, or maybe it was merely the still prickling tingles of arousal that must have been continuing to resonate through you - but you suddenly gripped my hand, then said in a low, almost embarrassed, whisper. 'Would you mind if we made it an early night tonight sweetheart?'

'Of course not! Has the day been too tiring for you?' I added anxiously.

You grinned. 'Heavens no! What I meant is, I can't wait too long to get my arms around you - and preferably, when neither of us has any clothes on…'

'You've got me!' I answered eagerly. 'I'll clean these things away while you freshen up, but I'll also need a quick trip to the bath-room, then I'll join you, beneath the sheets.'

Just a few minutes later - after I'd noticed your semi-naked body hurrying from one room to the other - I too was stripping off in the bath-room, taking a much needed pee, then giving my hands and face a quick wash.

But before I'd even had the chance to dry myself, I heard the metallic chinking of that little bell. Now of course the erection I'd developed while going down on you, had never fully dissipated, and the thought of you lying waiting for me, hadn't done anything to help it subside. But I swear that even if I hadn't already had the start of one, just the sound of the bell - and the thoughts as to why you had rung it - would have been more than enough to start my cock stiffening. As it was, I felt the already thickened length twitching as a fresh rush of blood surged into it.

Then that twitch turned to a far more noticeable jerk when I walked into the bed-room, and saw you lying there, waiting for me.

You lay, propped up on one elbow and half turned towards me - a pose that threw the always stirring curve of your hip into high relief. And although in one way I was disappointed to see that you had already let your hair down, that was more than compensated for by the way the dark cloud of it both framed and highlighted your face, your shoulders, and by the way a few teasingly coiling tendrils did what my fingers already itched to do - curl themselves around the firmly round lushness of your breasts, and then brush lightly against those already deep rose-red nipples.

Even as my eyes washed over the entirety of you, I noticed that yours were firmly fixed in just one place, on what was right then happening to my cock.

I felt it continuing to stiffen, felt it rising, jerkily, as the sight of you sent my heart pounding, and sending fresh flows of blood down into it - until, in no time at all, I knew its ram-rod hard length was already rearing proudly.

Although your wide-staring eyes never left the sight of it, and your voice had taken on a husky hoarseness, I clearly heard you say. 'Tony darling, could we please do something I've never done before?'

'Of course sweetheart - anything at all. What did you have in mind?'

'I know it probably sounds strange but I've never known a man with whom I was either sufficiently confident or comfortable to try soixante-neuf.'

It certainly did strike me as strange, that a woman of your personality and capability could have been so vigorously sexually active for so many years, without once trying what was - at least so I thought - such a basic position as sixty-nine. But of course I didn't voice that opinion, instead I simply answered.

'We must rectify that deficiency straight away - and of course it will be a very great pleasure to introduce you to the delights that both parties can receive from performing in that particular way. But all that's with one very strong proviso.'

'What's that?'

'That whatever you do, you make absolutely certain that you do not make me come that way. I have a number of alternatives for what will follow, but if you give me a climax - and it's anything like the one you gave me in the gardens this afternoon - I'll be unable to do much more than lie back and recuperate. OK?'

You smiled and replied. 'Of course darling, now in exchange will you let me be the one who is kneeling above? I ask that because I'm sure I will be able to enjoy you so much better that way.'

'Done!' I replied as I went across and quickly lay down across the middle of the bed.

You immediately span around then lifted yourself up and over me, kneeling astride my head, allowing me to adjust your position until your already moistly pouting pussy was immediately above my mouth. Then, realising that I might well develop a cramp or crick in my neck, you pulled down one of the larger pillows and suggested I push it under my head.

Having done so, and remembering what you had said much earlier - that you wanted our love-making to be both long and leisurely - I began by licking you in that way; first up along the insides of your thighs, and even when my tongue drew close to your pussy, for a long time keeping my licks confined to just its very outermost edges.

You treated my cock in much the same way; keeping your initial caresses to lovingly light ones, only every now and then interspersing those with one or two of those especially long slow l-i-c-ks you had used on me in the gardens.

Then, after a few minutes of mutually stirring caressing, I heard you speaking - but clearly speaking not to me, but to my cock.

'You really are magnificent - and you must know that. Not just long, and also thick - which you definitely are - but in your own way, you are also really quite beautiful. Tall, straight, and quite perfectly proportioned, and with a head that's utterly perfect - not only in size and shape, but also in having such gorgeous colouring.

I adore the look of you - and also the feel of you, so vibrantly and powerfully responsive - and find the smell of you stirs me deep, deep inside.

It's combination that makes you utterly irresistible - and whether it's in my hands, in my mouth, or in my always welcoming pussy - I'm positive I'll never get enough of you.'

All that time your fingers had been skimming lightly up and down the shaft, or - even more disturbingly - drifting lightly over and around the head. So, not surprisingly, that stimulation - coupled with that coming from both your words, and having your deliciously juicy to feast upon - soon had the pressure inside me not too far off from boiling point.

So, perhaps hoping to distract you from what you were doing to my cock, I began to use my tongue a little more decisively; licking up along each of your pussy-lips, then sliding it down between them and repeatedly dragging it up along that wetly dripping furrow. Taking my time before doing so, but of course eventually heading directly for your by then visibly spiking clitoris.




Euphoria



Euphoria, intense as an orgasm and flickering like a strobe light overwhelmed Melanie's senses. She could feel it spreading like pleasant warmth through her brain moment by moment. Like water cascading into a slashed open ship each vestibule of her mind filled and overflowed to the next, drowning any fears or worries as it went, driving them ahead of the spreading feeling of contentment and joy into ever smaller portions of her mind, soon crushing resistance entirely in a happy haze of submission to the feeling that flowed through her and remade her. She sank to her knees in abject surrender. A near religious feeling or worshipful exultation dimmed out anything else in her mind, and she felt herself carried away by a willingness and indeed wanton-ness to share and express her feelings through pleasurable acts that she had never imagined possible. 

The well timed hand on her shoulder, placed there by the boy seated on the couch next to where she had dropped to her knees sent her into long shudders of happiness at sharing even so small a physical touch, her now quite literal orgasm rocking her body until she let loose long deep moan after moan, gasping as the wetness flowed freely down her inner thighs and dripped between them onto the cream colored carpet. 

She smiled dumbly, brain numb and body alive, erotically active and sensitive in ways she knew dimly would never be possible with her full mind to restrain her sensations and judge the experiences she felt as the boy eased himself closer and another three boy joined him, surrounding her and running their hands over her as she groaned and came loudly and wetly from their every gentle and not so gentle caress. 

With mounting enthusiasm she grunted happily as her shirt was tugged over her head, her bra unhooked and slid tantalizingly over her shoulders, wracking her with pleasure and enjoyment at knowing that she was passing her pleasure out of herself and into them. Her skirt was unzipped down her side, and she vaguely heard the surprised chuckles when it was slid down to reveal her bare body beneath. She was not idle during her disrobing, reaching out nearly blindly for skin and finding long hard shafts of flesh in her hands. She squeezed and rubbed them, stroked them and closed her hand around them, jerking her full fist back and forth and being greeted with happy moans of others as she gave them what she most wanted to share. 

The first short stream of cum splashed against her cheek and she turned eagerly towards it, eyes closed and mouth open, hungry to taste the flow of semen she had brought forth from the man. Her mouth found him as the last drops were sliding forth and she savored the taste on her tongue, groaning in delight at the sensation of it sliding down her throat and the feeling of the man in her mouth. 

Quickly there were more groans around her and more soft jets of white fluid began to fly at her face, some missing and splashing against her shoulders and small breasts. She whimpered happily at the offerings, at the shudders of pleasure each spray sent through her own body, at the sharing of so much pleasure so easily and quickly. 

Suddenly she was lifted to her feet, and bent at the waist, and she happily sucked manhood after manhood which was placed before her, as she vibrated in constant orgasms from the men penetrating the wet, wanton, super-sensitized opening between her legs, pounding in and out of it until she could hear the blood in her ears rocking in time with her hips as she was moved back and forth, passed between men, used and filled with their semen, mixed liberally with her own abundant wetness until it poured down both her legs to pool on the carpet, releasing wet squelching noises like she herself was, anytime a men or her moved to step in the puddle of sex-fluids she was so happy to be leaking all over for the benefit of all her willing partners in joy and ecstasy. 

She was lifted again, turned, placed in various positions and enjoyed in each of them as she thrilled to the pleasure she could barely endure. In short order she screamed, a throaty howl of absolute abandonment to pleasure, and her wetness exploded forth, drenching the two men who were at that moment coordinating their tandem thrusts into her reddened and soaked hole. She spasmed once, twice, a third time, and was suddenly still. 

The men quickly moved backwards, worried for the first time that their enjoyment of the young girl might have consequences for them. After a few moments Melanie breathed in, a deep rasping gasp as from a swimmer surfacing after nearly two long beneath the waves. A deep voice intoned loudly "Coming up!", and the men and boys around the girl collectively moved to re-securing their pants and re-donning the shirts they had exuberantly discarded in their enjoyment of Melanie's body. 

Her breathing slowly became stable and steady as they filed from the room, leaving the young blonde lying on the floor in a pool of their shared offerings, covered and filthy with their sticky fluids as well as her own. 

She shuddered through an orgasmic aftershock, and at the end of it snapped wide her eyes. The pupils dilated and shrank rapidly, focusing as they had been unable to do for the past hour. She lifted her head from the floor, hair matted and wet with cum that lay on all of her like a sometimes thin sometimes thick and crusted sheen of glaze on a donut. Beyond the room, as her senses began to return fully, she heard the rhythmic thumping of the music and the chatter of distant voices that told her she was still in the club she last remembered being in before... before... She moaned in momentary disorientation, half memories floating through her head and competing to be the most unlikely and impossible scenario. 

She looked around into the blackness of the now unlit room, until she seized upon a shadow moving to sit across from her on a comfortable looking couch, one of many that furnished the room. His voice was deep and commanding when the figure in the darkness spoke. He was unmistakably male, and unmistakably in charge. She felt herself stiffen to attention as he spoke, not certain why she should suddenly be so obedient to this stranger, but knowing from some subtlety of his intonation that she would be, must be. 

"You are how old?" the voice boomed in the darkness, right in front of her and yet invisible in the darkness. She warred with different desires in her head: The urge to lie, to scream and cry, to crawl up to this man in the dark and find the outlines of his body with her tongue and mouth. She quashed these reactions after a few moments of turmoil, uncertain even of where some of them were coming from and terrified by their intensity and implications. 

She fought for control of her surging emotions, every sensation hyper acute. The feel of the air moving across her bare skin (why was she naked?). The wet drip of fluids down her thighs and out of her holes (oh my god!?). The soreness that suffused her accompanied by an unaccountable sense of wellbeing and relief, as though she had accomplished something she had waited years for (what... what did I do?). 

"Nineteen," she eventually managed to say into the darkness after the voice cleared its throat, clearly impatient for a response. 

He, himself, was nowhere near as cautious in immediately replying. "And what is the age requirement for this club?" 

She lowered her head, for a moment irrationally afraid that the police would be summoned, before realizing just how unlikely that was, and how much worse her situation might be. "Twenty One, sir. But I..." 

She broke off as he chuckled darkly. "We have a policy in this club. That policy is that we do not allow anyone in who is not twenty one, do you understand? That is the law, do you understand?" 

"Yes." She said hesitantly. He answered in an amused base. 

"What that means, little girl, is that you did not come here tonight. Our record of attentiveness and the laws on age restrictions in clubs make it clear that you COULDN'T have gotten in the door here, even if you tried. Don't they?" 

"I.." her mind, clearing, began to grasp the direction of the conversation. "I... yes. But, I did." Somehow she heard his smile. 

"Legally, you did not. Legally, you could not have. And so legally, you did not. No one will question this. If people look for you, they will do it elsewhere. They will not look here, because you could not have gotten in, because we would never allow it." 

"But... but I did." She was confused and worried and felt a black panic rising inside her gut.

"Yes. You did. But legally, you didn't. And that is all that will be known. Let me rephrase it for you, my pretty young thing. You, legally and officially, no longer exist. Oh, there was a girl, according to this fake ID her name was Melanie, but she went missing. She must have gone somewhere, of course, but it couldn't have been here, and so the search will go elsewhere. I hate to spoil the suspense, but it will be fruitless. Melanie will not be found. Not now, and not ever, because she no longer exists." There was a sound of paper tearing that brought tears to her eyes. "YOU, on the other hand, have a choice, my little one." 

"A...choice?" her mind whirled incredulously, unable to deal with the rapid shifts of sensation and the disorienting feeling of the world moving beneath her feet like sand running out to see on the tide. "What choice?" Again, the audible smile. 

"You can choose to join Melanie in non-existence, or you can choose to exist without her, to let her go." 

"I... I want to exist..." the girl born Melanie half sobbed. 

"Of course you do." The voice was suddenly moving, stepping beside her where she lay still on her knees in a puddle of sex. She felt something hard and fleshy strike the side of her face and she recoiled in sudden alarm and suspicion that she knew what it was. "Melanie is gone, little girl. If you wish to exist I will give you a new name, the name slave, and you will address me as Master, for as of today I own you, body, mind and soul. Do you understand?" 

Bitter tears rolled down her cheeks but she fought back her self-recrimination, knowing it was far too late to be of any help to her. "Yes... yes Master." His hand, large and rough, found her hair in the dark and jerked her back up to her knees, pressed his manhood against her face. 

"Good slave. Now suck your Master." Desperately her mind raced for any possible way to repair her life and return to it, to escape from what she knew was going to happen. She knew she could not hope to fight or hurt the strength that was her Master, his voice told her that much. But still, in her desperation she seized upon an escape. 

"The... the pill, Master?" she said as her tongue lavished him.

"Yes, little slave, what is that?" 

"The, the pill I took when I was at the bar, before that man led me back here. Can I, can I have another?" For the third and she knew final time she heard her owner smile. 

"You may have more, slave. But the effects are cumulative. Every dose you take lasts longer, until you take a pill from which you will never come back. It is addictive, as well. If I give you another, this quickly, you may need to keep taking them, until there isn't even a memory of who you were what you once hoped for and dreamed of. Until you are nothing but slave and sex and orgasming for any and every man I give you too until you die." Inside her, she felt relieved and calmed and sure in a way that surpassed even the post high feeling of being well used she had experienced.

"Please, Master. Please give me more. More now, and then more after. Melanie is gone now. I am yours, so let me only be yours, let that be all that is left. Please." She put on her best pleading voice for this last, the voice she had used on her father a few hours ago when she got permission to stay out past 10 tonight. Long past ten, she knew now, and the worry her father would already be feeling, the pain that was to come for her was the chaser for the pill she swallowed from her Master's hand. It didn't take more than a few seconds, and at the last, she smiled.



Euphoric Recall



My mind was outpacing the high speed of my car. I was on my way to get a fix that I had been craving for a long time. No, it wasn't drugs or strong drink; it was the rush of raw sexual bliss. This mad dash to a finish had been a long time coming.

Ever since I knew that I was able to blow a load, I had dealt with lustful urges by taking matters into my own hands, so to speak. I had become a pro at the art of jacking off under a wide array of circumstances -- from the quickie just before sleep, producing as little vibration movement as possible, to the much more prolonged sessions with a magazine of full figured women.

Masturbation was a necessity. I wasn't exactly a babe magnet back in high school, and a broken family dominated by manipulative matriarchs had left me with a strong distrust of women. There was no doubt in my mind that I was straight. I just didn't want the risk of a commitment.

There were a couple of instances where girls had expressed interest in me; one was a brunette, and the other was a redhead. Both cases involved women who were eccentric in their own right. 

The redhead could be moody, abrasive, dramatic, and self-absorbed, but she had a Rubeneseque form and knew how to market it. She also had a thing for wearing classic pumps, which were something of a weak spot for me. As an object of lust, she was hard to purge from my mind over the years.

Between my junior and senior years of high school, I had a weak moment which resulted in a one night stand of nothing more than first base making out. Things were awkward between us afterwards.

After high school, I took off for college, and she embarked on a Bohemian journey that took her through a short stint at a college where she didn't last a full year. She then moved to a different college town, and then spent some time in New York City. Eventually she made her way back to her hometown, living with her parents.

We did have occasional late night phone conversations, mostly about gossip, but sometimes I would bring up rather blunt questions regarding her sex life. It would make her mad, but my twisted sense of curiosity couldn't be contained. 

Still, she had some feelings for me, and I would engage in some contorted mental games just to get a read on how she really felt. Even if my feelings for her were purely lurid and devoid of any emotional intimacy, it was a boost to my brittle ego to know that someone had some sort of desire for me.

By the time I was graduating from college, things were pretty stressful. Senior projects, plans for the future, and the death of a grandparent had clouded any rational judgment. One night, about a week before my graduation day, I called her and asked her if she wanted to meet for a sexual tryst.

That's how I got here. It was about a fifteen minute drive to her house in a nearby town.  As I arrived, she came out of her house. She was wearing a tight-fitting black dress with a high-cut hemline. Her long, red hair was still a bit damp, apparently from a hastily taken shower. She was wearing a pair of black pumps that clomped deeply on the sidewalk as she walked to get into my car.

She directed me to drive to a piece of unimproved property out in the country owned by her brother. I asked her if we needed to get some protection, and she assured me that she was on the pill.  I didn't know whether I could take her answer at face value, but my inner demons just didn't care about such details right now.

Once we arrived, we climbed into the back seat and we began to embrace, kissing ever more deeply until our tongues were entwined. I could smell the fragrance of the shampoo that she had used to wash her hair. She wore no makeup save for a dark shade of red lipstick that contrasted against the creaminess of her face. The windows quickly became steamed.

I made my move and caressed one of her breasts. The fabric of her dress and the bra thereunder taunted me. With sweat forming on the palm of my hand, I reached behind her back to unzip her dress. With her upper torso now exposed, I could dive freely into the cleavage of her ample breasts. I could feel the long fingernails of her hands dragging across my neck. I could feel the crotch of my jeans getting tighter.

With time, her breasts were liberated from the confines of her bra. Her small, tight nipples were like firm peas between my lips. I could hear her breath getting heavier, and I savored the faint odor of the sweat on her tits. I sucked and nibbled with abandon, while she writhed under me.

I reached up the hem of her dress, surprised to discover that she chose not to wear panties to our encounter. I stroked her thick, hairy red bush and inched my fingers toward her clit. Teasing her with evasive strokes, I heard her respond with muted moans of approval. 

With the onset of dampness within the folds of her pussy, I plunged two fingers and then later a third. I rubbed the clit with the base of my hand as I jilled her gently. I wanted to push her to the point of no return, but I wanted her to savor the almost agonizing ride there.

After several minutes, her breathing leveled off, and she began to undulate her pelvis in response to my thrusts. She then let out a grunt that told me that she was definitely in a more pleasant space.

Once she gained her composure, she ordered me to get out of the car. She slid off the rest of her little black dress and left it lying in the uncut grass.

We lied down on the ground, with the chorus of crickets and countless other nocturnal insects chirping a soundtrack to this wanton scene. She unzipped my jeans and pulled them my ankles. My underwear was pushed back to expose a short but thick cock standing ready at attention.

She then took the head into mouth, fixed her lips into a tight suction lock on my shaft, and proceeded to lubricate me with her saliva. She took it all the way in and drew back, dragging her teeth lightly across the tender skin, as if to remind me that she was now in control. Her head bobbed increasingly faster on me, with her sour spit now dampening me.

Every once in a while she would tease me by pulling completly away, with thick strands of saliva running from the tip of my cock to her lips. She would then rub the pre-cum leaking from the tip onto her cheek. My balls began to tighten as I neared total loss of control.

I wanted to fuck her in the worst way. I pulled my pants off the rest of the way and took of my shirt to expose my hairy chest. She got on the ground, and parted her thighs. I slid into her velvety smooth pussy and started to thrust. Once she had adjusted to the thickness of my cock, I let go of whatever inhibitions I had left.

I don't remember what obscenities I uttered as we screwed under the pale moonlight. Her utterances coached and cheered me to the climax that I longed for. I was feeding my addiction with a blast of sex-induced dopamines.

I couldn't hold back any longer, and the time had come to decide. Do I trust her and cum inside her or pull out. Even in the utter loss of sanity, I could not bring myself to trust her. I pulled out my cock, took it into my hand, and aimed for her soft belly, just as the first thick, steamy stream of pearly cum shot out. 

I know that it probably wasn't a load to rival those of Peter North, but it felt that way. Two squirts, a third, and a fourth. Each one not quite reaching as far as its predecessor. A sticky pool of my seed drenched her bush. She then got top of me and cleaned my cock off with her tongue. 

Once she finished, she raised her head up to me to French me with her sticky lips. It was so erotic and so sinful. She ground her pelvis against mine, my cum forming a weak glue between our bodies.

We lay there, sated, soaked, and exhauste without motion. We redressed and I took her back home. We never had sex again. I would finally settle down with someone else several years later. I had to face up to my addiction and suffer hours of therapy. I'm probably a lot healthier now, but I despair over just how devoid of passion my marriage is these days. I still think about that strange, primal night and I manage a wistfully guilty smile.