0 comments/ 12529 views/ 0 favorites Fingers By: androgyne30 It was snowing hard outside when you walked into my shop. The radio on a shelf behind me issued a report that a blizzard was moving into town, and that people should not travel unless absolutely necessary. You took off your toque and shook snow crystals out of your hair in a wet spray of water and rainbow ice. I watched as you undid your coat, checked out the shelves of porn on one side, and toys on the other. You raised an eyebrow, and licked your lips. Then you noticed me. I smiled and nodded slightly, and looked down at the book I was reading so that you would feel comfortable enough to stay, and look for whatever it was that had brought you into the store. I reached over to a bag of M&M's that I was snacking on. I took a couple and popped them into my mouth, and noticed that a blue M&M had left some dye on my finger. I sucked on it to clean it—and heard a sharp intake of breath. I looked up to see why you had gasped, but you were busy examining some toys in a corner . . . I wondered if it had just been my imagination, or if you had liked seeing my finger between my lips, sucking and licking to clean off the blue colour . . . maybe it was just my imagination. I decided to test you. I reached below the cash counter and grabbed the brown paper bag that had my lunch in it. I opened the bag, and pulled out an orange. I made sure that the noise of the bag was loud, crunchy and raspy, and then put it away. I took the orange in my hands, and began rolling it in circles to loosen the skin from its clinging embrace with the interior meat. I kept an eye on you in my periphery, and thought that you might be watching me in the mirrors that lined the walls behind the video shelving units. I slipped my thumbs into the flesh of the orange, and penetrated its surface. The movement of my thumbs continued inwards to spread open the thick skin of the orange, and suddenly its aroma exploded outwards; its juices oozed into my skin. The orangeness flooded my nostrils, and oozed into the space behind my brain with its pungent fragrance. I knew that the aroma would infuse every air molecule in the shop, and watched you closely to see the moment my ethereal orange-drenched fingers reached your body to slip into you and tickle your senses. I saw a shudder ripple across your shoulders, and knew that the smell was inside you. I took one of my thumbs out of the orange, dripping with its aromatic juices, and pushed it into my mouth. I sucked the juices off my thumb noisily. Working it in and out of my mouth, my lips slurping the pulp off the surface—I saw your knees twitch slightly—and I knew that I had you. I pulled a wedge off the orange, and put it to my full lips—and bit hard, sucking and slurping the spurting juices into my mouth. Some of the juices still slipped outside my lips to spill down the sides of my mouth, and chin. I put my thumbs and fingers into the center of the orange, and spread it a part with a slick sucking sound. I pulled another wedge out, and tongued the bottom of it . . . feeling the textures of rough pulp and plump flesh along the surface of my tongue. I bit into the delicate flesh, and felt it pop with a juicy spurt. I saw your eyes widen, you tongued your lips, and I smiled. I bent down behind the counter to grab a box of Kleenex, and when I straightened you were standing right in front of me. I blinked, and tried to say with a mouthful of orange, "Hu-i." Some more orange juice dribbled down my lips and chin, and your eyes locked onto the rivulets . . . And then, faster than I had ever seen a woman move, you grabbed my face with your hands, and my entire reality dissolved into sensations of mouth, tongue, and teeth, kissing and sucking on my chin, lips, and tongue . . . Every nerve in my face orgasmed as your tongue and lips slid over them. Our faces were instantly slick with each others' saliva, and orange. I slid my hands under your shoulders and lifted you up onto the counter. The moment your legs cleared the counter's threshold on the other side they locked around my waist. I dropped my hands from your shoulders to the bottom of your shirt and then up into its interior to burrow under the wire of your bra and grab each breast hard. Your mouth moved from mine to my earlobe. The sensation of wet lips wrapped round my lobe, tongue and teeth assaulting its softness, had my cock so hard and ready to explode that my underwear had a wet spot from cum already leaking out in a steady stream. On the other side of the thin layer of underwear and pants, the head of my cock strained to burst through all the clothing that lay between it and your cunt. I felt a wet heat of your own radiating against me, and it made me grind against you. I lost all sense of anything other than my desire to fuck your mouth that was now locked onto the side of my neck and driving me mad. I pushed back from you, and had my pants and underwear off. I spun you to face the other direction, and then laid you on your back on the counter. You looked up at me as I grabbed my unfinished orange and rubbed it all over the head of my cock, and along its shaft. My hands gripped each side of the base of your head, fingers along the back of your neck, and my thumbs firmly along the top flesh of your throat. I tilted your face back towards my pulsing red cock. I pushed into your mouth, and lingered for a moment as you began sucking--moaning into me. You sucked so hard that it hurt, and then I was pushing my cock further into your mouth, and slowly its length passed down into your throat. As the head of my cock moved deeper I felt the motion of its passage in my thumbs where they lightly gripped your throat. I pressed slightly harder to feel my cock moving in and out of your throat. I pulled back so you could take a breath, and then continued to fuck your throat. I could feel my orgasm about to erupt, and I pulled out fast. I picked up a piece of orange and crushed it in my hand. I smeared it all over your face, and then rammed my orange-soaked fingers into your mouth. You sucked furiously on my fingers to get every ounce of juice off them, and then I pulled them out, and replaced them with my hot hard cock. I thrust into the orange-coolness of your mouth and my cock pumped hot streams of cum . . . You reached back with your hands to grab my ass and pull my cock farther into your throat, which convulsed as it swallowed me whole—and then I was lost in the shuddering ecstasy of your embrace . . . End Part I Fingers "I'd like you to have a seat Mr. Wcyzowski." Miss Diane Finch was sitting across the table from the candidate, her long fingers holding his resumé, her dark red fingernails showing with stark contrast against the starched white paper. She looked at it for a brief moment, then slowly crumpled it into a ball, allowing her eyes to focus on him. She dropped the resumé into a waste basket next to her and said, "You can leave now, Mr. Wcyzowski. I'm afraid that you won't be a fit here." The man looked puzzled. Then angry, his brow furrowed. With a trace of an Eastern European accent, he said, "What do you mean, not a fit? You called me in for the interview, didn't you? I presume that you screened my qualifications beforehand?" The woman kept her voice calm. Pushed up her black-rimmed glasses with her index finger. She said, "I'm afraid we've had a misunderstanding with our recruiter. I'll have to have a few words with her about candidates. You may leave now, sir." "Just like that? Without even asking me any questions? You know -- before I came here the recruiter told me that I was one of the strongest candidates she'd screened all month. Was it really my resumé Miss Finch. Or was there something else?" "I don't appreciate your tone, Mr. Wcyzowski. Please leave." "It was something else, wasn't it?" He was clenching his hands into fists without being aware of it. Holding them below the table. "Please leave, or I'll have to call security." He stood and pushed his chair back in against the table. He glared at Miss Finch, his eyes now bright with fury. Then he said, "You're a bitch." Diane reached for the red telephone in front of her on the table, beginning to dial the number for security, but after she entered the first digit, he said, "Stop. Put down the phone." She froze and looked at him, thinking, The poor sap thinks he can speak to me that way? Her expression was one of annoyance. Perhaps even mild amusement showing in the trace of a smirk on her lips. Mr. Wcyzowski walked to her side of the table and put his hands down, spreading out his strong fingers. In a cool voice he said, "Hang up the fucking phone. I believe that we're not finished here." She raised her eyebrows. "Really? I think I've seen everything I need. You'll be leaving now, or security will be here within two minutes to escort you out. By whatever means necessary. Do you understand Mr. Wcyzowski?" He reached across the desk and firmly wrapped his hand around her wrist, the one holding the phone receiver, and squeezed it hard. She said, "What are you doing? This is completely ina -- " "Like I said -- we're not done here. Now put down the fucking phone before I have to hurt you." She gently placed the receiver back down. "You can stop squeezing now. I believe you've made your point." "Have I? Really? I think we're just getting started here. You see -- I think skinny rich bitches such as yourself who get to fuck with people's lives by sitting on that side of the table don't realize just how much power they have over poor, ordinary hardworking folks such as myself. And I think you need to learn what it's like to be on the other side. Just to get a taste of it." "You're going to leave a mark if you don't let up your grip. Now let go before I have to -- " He stepped behind her, roughly pulling her up into a standing position while holding her wrist, and began to twist her arm behind her back. "Here's the deal, Miss Finch. If you scream, I'll break your arm. I swear to god I'll do it." He gave it an extra twist for effect, making her wince audibly in pain. "And if you cooperate, you'll come out much better when we're finished." She whimpered. "You're going to pay for this. No one gets away with treating someone of my stature like this. You know what happens to wretches like you? They get arrested and then sent back to whatever hellhole ghettos they came from. Your kind don't belong in this country. You're filth...as your behavior is most definitely proving to me right now." He smiled and said, "I knew it was something like that. You racist whore. But I do appreciate your honesty. I'll spare your arm for that." Her breathing deepened. Her full breasts moving up and down with each breath underneath her white blouse. She said, "If you think that trying to intimidate me is going to make your own life better, you're sorely mistaken. If you let me go this instant, I may decide against pressing charges. But if you don't, I'm going to report you to -- " She gasped as he brought his lips to her neck underneath her ear and softly kissed her. He whispered, "You're my cunt now. You do what I tell you, and you don't get hurt. What you don't understand is that men like me don't have a hell of a lot to lose. That changes the balance of the equation for you, if you think about it. It means you're going to go along with our little game now whether you like it or not. The only remaining question is whether I have to give you an extra twist of that pretty little arm of yours. Do you understand me?" She paused, her breathing audible. She hadn't counted on encountering someone of his sort. Someone who fought back. In her long career, she'd rejected all kinds of people who looked like him, with their accents and unpronounceable names, and they usually all walked out quietly, dejected with their heads down. The way she saw it, she couldn't be caught polluting the ranks with foreigners. It was her civic duty to keep them out of positions of influence. Of power. But this turn of events, this blatant disregard for her authority and superior social standing, was instilling something new in her consciousness. Something she wasn't used to feeling -- fear. She thought, This man is unpredictable. Dangerous. But the idea of bending to someone else's will was still foreign to her. Still hard to comprehend in her frontal cortex. He whispered again in her ear and said, "I take it by your lack of response that you're considering my offer. Which is good, because it means you'll absorb your lesson better." He moved his free hand down to the small of her back and slowly pushed down against her skirt, creating a crease down the center of her ass. His hand and fingers groping, pushing hard so that they could feel every round, smooth contour underneath. She said, "What are you doing now? You're touching my -- " "Quiet dear. You're my dirty cunt, remember? And I do what I want with dirty cunts. Especially when they've been so naughty. I think you need a lesson in multiculturalism today." His fingers pushed against the firm flesh of her ass until they reached the bottom of its major curve. And then he moved his fingers toward the space between her legs, reaching forward and pushing up. Her skirt pushing back against his movements. He's feeling for my cunt through my skirt. Fuck. The bastard. But as much as she wanted to fight back, to pretend that none of this affected her, she moaned and sighed deeply, feeling his intrusion as he rubbed her through her skirt and panties. She said "You can't touch me like this -- it's not right. You'll be in so much -- " "I'll be in what? Trouble? I've crossed the line, Miss Finch. I'm not stopping now. I'm just getting warmed up. Now I'm telling you to shut your mouth, because you need to cooperate if you want to take this the easy way." He pressed his crotch against her ass, his hard-on bulging hard against his slacks and pushing into her smooth muscle. And he rubbed her pussy harder, reaching underneath and pushing further up. Stroking, feeling the softness of her folds yield underneath his touch. She found her legs almost shaking, a mixture of anger and frustration and lust coursing through her veins. This can't be happening. This can't be. He's an animal. A brute. Worse than scum. And his fingers, the way they're touching me -- so vulgar. So crude. So...so good. She felt the beginning of tears welling up in her eyes. I can't be enjoying this. I can't. No no no. But as much as she was fighting back in her own mind, trying to deny the signals her body was sending to her in an overwhelming flood of sensation, to her own horror she could feel her pussy moistening. Her panties beginning to soak in the first of her musky juices. He reached lower, down to the rear hem of her skirt, and slipped his hand underneath, hiking it up. Now she was exposed to him, showing off her lacy black panties. He said, "That's a nice ass for a rich cunt. You always find time to work out, don't you? Being in such a position of privilege, I'm sure physical fitness is right up there on your To-Do list everyday. And now I'm going to enjoy the fruits of your labors for myself. Yes I will." He hooked two fingers underneath her panties, rubbing slowly up and down her flesh. Close to her outer lips, savoring the forbidden feeling of her soft skin. And then he pulled back hard, making the elastic dig into her waist before tearing. She yelped and said, "Ughh! No!" But her breathing was heavier. Her anger becoming overwhelmed by desire, mixing with it in a cocktail that she didn't want to taste even though he was forcing it between her lips. She tried to fight it. No no no no. I will not submit to you, you goddam bastard. I will not be your slave. But as much as she resisted him in her mind, her body couldn't help but yield to his fingers. To invite him to make her wetter. And it was driving her mad. He whispered in her ear again. "You like it, don't you Miss? You like it when I do this." And he slid a fat digit along the line of her slit, pushing it along from behind her, slowly moving it through the wetness. And he didn't stop until just before her clit. Then he slowly moved the finger back. Rubbing slowly, gently. But still holding her arm firmly. She was powerless to go anywhere. Powerless to move, to scream, to tell him to go fuck himself. Because she was a prisoner of her own sensation. My pussy. Oh fuck my pussy. That feels good. So fucking good. But she wasn't going to admit it. There was no way she'd tell him how she felt. How when he ran his finger along her slit while he held her captive, it awakened an animal lust of a magnitude that she hadn't ever felt before. She was used to being the boss, the alpha bitch. And this man was making her his own. Bending her to his own twisted desires. And as good as it felt, as delicious as his fingers felt, making her clit ache for his touch, she knew she had to to resist him. Because he couldn't win. He couldn't see her enjoy it. Only she won. Only I win... She felt him let go of her arm behind her back. Now was her chance to run. If she wanted to struggle against him, to fight, now was the time. She could twist and punch and scratch and bite and scream like hell. But his free hand quickly found another use. He slipped it around to the front of her skirt and moved it briskly underneath, reaching downward. Unimpeded by panties, flowing downward below her navel toward the shortly trimmed hairs of her mound. And then continuing until he found the soft, moist folds of her clit. He began to rub in small circles. Not too much pressure, but not too little. She groaned in pleasure. "Oh fuck, oh oh oh oh my god..." "You like this, you rich cunt? You like how this feels?" "You -- you fucking stop this...stop this right -- " "Oh no. Oh no I won't. Because you're getting ripe for me, aren't you? I feel those hot sticky juices coating my fingers. I know you want more." She raised her voice this time. Trying in vain to protest. "No I don't. You let me go. You let me go right this instant." But even though she was telling him to stop, her body was defying her. Her senses electrified. She felt him push the bulge of his hard cock against her bare ass, and instead of moving away she inadvertently increased the pressure. Only slightly. But that was enough to betray her true intentions. The biological intentions that she wouldn't be able to fight for much longer, no matter how much she tried. Now her clit was aching hard. Aching for him to speed up his circles. The way his finger moved around her most sensitive flesh driving her crazy with desire. She began to grind her pussy against his finger. Giving him cues to push harder. And that was just the signal he needed. He slipped two fingers into her, from behind. Spreading out her tight flesh with their width. And he started to thrust into her cunt. Wet thrusts, probing her insides. Possessing her. He said, "You have a tight pussy, you cunt. A nice tight pussy. Tell me you like this. Tell me you like it when scum like me violates you." "I -- I..." He stopped his fingers altogether. Stopped touching her clit. Stopped his thrusts. "You tell me you like this, or I'm finished with you. Which will it be?" "You're a disgusting man. A terrible, disgusting man. Forcing me like this." "I'm giving you choice, aren't I? Now you have choice. Which will it be? I'm dying to know." "I hate you. I hate you I hate you I hate you." "Well -- I guess I'll be leaving then." He started to pull his fingers out of her cunt, making them retreat until just the tips were still inserted. She blurted out, crying at the same time from her frustration and humiliation. She sobbed, "Fuck me. I want you to fuck me. Don't stop. I need you to finish." She tried to choke back her sobs. "Now that's a good little bitch." He pushed his fingers back into her pussy, pumping them in and out. And he went back to his motions on her clit, making it vibrate with pleasure. Thrust thrust slap, thrust slap thrust thrust, his movements driving her to the brink. She was getting closer... So close that I'm going to come, she thought. I'm going to fucking come right now. The fucking bastard. Forcing me like this...oh god. Oh god fuck yes oh -- He didn't stop this time. Her pussy stretched and then clenched around him in buzzing contractions of pleasure. Her back arching stiff as sensation vibrated throughout her body, making her mind freeze its focus on that one feeling. Orgasm was the only thing that existed. For a moment it didn't matter that he was a bastard, that he'd taken advantage of her. Taken her. Taken me. She felt aftershocks, shivering as they coursed through her. And just as she was coming back to earth, coming back to her senses, she felt pressure from behind. Something big pushing against her slit. And it dawned on her -- his cock is against my pussy. He'd unzipped himself and pushed his swollen head against her ripe, juicy opening. He said, "You didn't think I'd leave before finishing your lesson, did you? I'm going to leave you a present. Something to make you remember the rest of us, the people you look down on every day. The people you reject because they have the wrong last name or an accent. You're going to get a piece of my people. You're going to get a piece of us inside you." He thrusted his cock into her, burying his shaft balls deep inside her pussy. She grunted as he took her doggie style. She moved her hands to the table, supporting herself as he thrusted hard. Each forward motion laced with equal parts anger and lust. She tried to speak but couldn't. She thought, I'm letting him fuck me. He's fucking me with that big thick immigrant cock of his. And it feels -- no no no it can't feel good but it does... Then words came to her mouth. And as they came out she felt disconnected from her own body, from her mind. As though she was watching herself commit a betrayal. It struck her as almost surreal. She said, "Fuck me. Fuck my pussy hard. Give it to me. I've been so naughty to you." "That's right, you ignorant bitch. You're learning. Now here's your parting gift. I'm going to give it to -- " He let out a sustained ahhh and she felt him jerk into her. Pump his hot cum deep into her pussy as he clenched her ass with his hands. Filling her up, coating her insides with that thick, milky fluid. She had a flash of panic and thought, Oh my god no -- what the hell is happening? But it was too late. He finished his deed. He slid his cock out of her wet hole, still half-erect, and zipped it back into his pants. She turned around, her cheeks hot and red. The smell of their sex heavy in the room. She said, "I should -- I should -- " "You should be glad this is all that happened to you. Now, I'm still not convinced you've learned your lesson in tolerance. I'm going to send some friends by to make sure that you've changed your ways. They'll be checking up on you. And the penalty for misbehavior might be worse than what I gave you. You understand?" "Yes." "Good. Now I'll be leaving. And you can screw your job. I don't want to work for an intolerant cunt like you anyway. Even if you have a tight, sweet little pussy." " Mr. Wcyzowski?" "Yes?" "Please don't leave. I'd like to discuss...future arrangements." What the hell am I doing? Let him go already. He hates you. (he makes me come) He turned his back to her and started to walk out. "You have my number on the resumé you tossed into the waste basket. If you want to talk to me again, you'll have to look through the trash to find it." He walked out the door. Gone. And she stared at all the crumpled pieces of paper in the waste basket, all those symbols of dashed hopes and broken dreams, and wondered if she'd reach in to find his. Disclaimer: All characters are fictional. All characters engaged in sexual relations are over 18 and not related by blood, whether or not that fact is disclosed in the story. Any resemblance to real people is coincidental. Fingers Deft hand play. * * * * * Click Here to listen: .mp3 format or .ogg format. (7.5 min/mp3) * * * * * Fingers & Hands I remember how bright the room was when I was trying on my wedding dress. It was the day before 'The Day' and I asked Daniel to help me with the all the zippers, clasps and veils. I was thinking how surreal it all felt. Even though I was twenty seven, I still couldn't believe it. I'd turned down a few guys and I'd even said no to Jeff once before; but he hung in there. It was that day that I first realized what my brother Danny's feelings were for me. It happened in an insignificant instant. He was zipping up my dress and I felt his gentle hand on my back across my bra strap. He said, "You're lovely Anna." He's touched me before and he often tells me I look pretty but this was different. Maybe it was the tone; maybe it was because he didn't say I 'looked' lovely but that I 'was' lovely. I don't know; but I knew then without a doubt that he loved me more than just as a sister. I guess it shouldn't have been that much of a surprise because I was more. He's lived with me in San Francisco for six years even though our parents are alive and well in New Hampshire. The short version is that they're both basically workaholics and it was left to me to bring up Daniel. I guess he was sort of an 'accident' because he's eight years younger than I am. When I was twenty one I got a once in a lifetime job offer out here and Danny insisted on coming with me. My parents and I gave him a hundred reasons why it wasn't a good idea but he was adamant. We finally relented and agreed to a six month trial. Six years later there we were. I probably didn't get married sooner because I didn't want him to have to go back East. We enjoyed our life together. I took him to libraries museums and concerts. We traveled to 'educate' him. Meanwhile I had a great time and loved his company. He sat down after helping me get dressed and I walked over and put my arms around him. He laid his face on my thigh and I could see his eyes fill. "Do you love him Anna?" I started to tell him what a nice guy Jeff was but I realized that he wasn't asking about Jeff. I said "Honey I'm always going to love you and I'm going to miss you too but I'll just be a few miles away and we'll see each other all the time – I promise." He was unconvinced but he smiled and said "sure." He kissed me softly on the lips and said "I'm here when you need me." That was ten months ago; ten months before life got soap opera complicated. I was now spending a lot of time with Danny again. After six months of marriage Jeff was working more late hours, the fire was dying and smoke was getting in my eyes. I kept trying to talk to him about it but all he would say was, "We're fine" or "It's a phase." I came to the old apartment one night without calling. Danny answered the door and I said, "Hi handsome" and then I lost it. Through tears that felt like marbles I blubbered my tale of woe. My brother held me as it poured out. "Danny I may have made a mistake. I don't know if I love him or if I ever loved him…but he's been good to us and…" I didn't say that one of the reasons I probably married him was that he had enough money to put Danny through College. "I can't just walk out on him…but it's not working and he doesn't talk and…the only good part of my day is you." I won't kid myself; it was an invitation and Danny accepted it. His mouth was on my mouth, on my eyes, and on my tearstained face. "My sweet salty Anna" he said. He kissed me with kisses I knew he had locked in his heart for this moment, for me. I gave him back the ones I realized were only for him. His hands were on me and I let him; I wanted him to touch me. He fumbled with my buttons and I just pulled my top over my head. I unhooked my bra for him and he fondled my breasts as we kissed. His face was in my neck as he called me, "Anna, Anna, Anna." "I'm here baby; I'm here…Anna's here." He reached under my skirt and when I stopped him he took my breast in his hand and began sucking the erect nipple as if I was his mother. I stroked his hair and I felt a fluid line inside my belly that ran from his sucking lips to the wetness between my legs. I reached for him and could feel the outline of his swollen shaft running down his leg. I massaged him as he suckled and I made him come. He probably didn't realize how tightly he squeezed my breast as he closed his eyes and repeated "OH…OH…"in loud bursts of breath. I held him after he quieted and again he tried to put his hand into my panties. I took it out and placed it over the filmy nylon. I put my hand over his and directed the movement over my mound. My fingers helped his fingers find my clitoris. We circled and rubbed it until I stiffened and came. It's amazing to me now the rationalization process I went through then. Somehow I wasn't being unfaithful to Jeff if my brother and I masturbated each other – as long as he wasn't in me. It was ok for Danny to do what he wanted with me on the couch - but no touching in bed. Fingers were allowed, tongues were not. In the following weeks it became so ludicrous it reached 'Clintonian proportions'. I just couldn't keep it at the 'fingers and hands' level no matter how hard I tried. I'm not blaming Daniel because I wanted to 'move on' as much as he did. And move on we did. After kissing over my soaked panties for about fifteen minutes one night, off thy came. I'm not even sure who pulled them down but Danny's tongue was finally where I wanted it to be: right on my bare swelling. I don't think I ever came so fast in my life. Naturally I wanted to make Danny feel as good as he'd made me feel, so before long his whole length and width was in my mouth. It was the first time I'd let a man come in my mouth. It was the first time it felt right. Danny held me and kissed me until my lips were raw and he said, "Anna how long can we do this? I love you and I want to be with you. I want to feel you next to me in the middle of the night when I stretch my leg across the bed. I don't want to steal a few hours here and there and then watch you leave. It's time." He was right, it was time. I decided to talk to Jeff whether he wanted to or not. I went up to his office and the receptionist told him I was there. I heard him tell her to ask me to wait a few minutes and he'd be with me. I figured he was in a meeting until I saw his secretary come out of his office. Oh God, one look at her face and I knew. There were a hundred signs on her – she just screwed my husband. I went up to her desk and put my face three inches from hers and said, "How long?" She stammered and started the "What do you mean…how long what…I…?" I just said it again, "How long?" She actually seemed like a nice girl and after a minute or two the tearful admission cascaded. "I didn't want to at first…I needed the job…I'm sorry …I'm not a bad person…now I love him…he told me…" And for the final time I quietly asked, "How long?" "Six months" she blubbered. I walked out. I didn't knock and I didn't ring the bell. I used the key I still carried in my purse. Danny was surprised to see me and more surprised when I took him by the wrist and led him into the bedroom. He didn't ask for explanations and I wasn't going to take the time for them until after I had what I needed: Danny inside me, Danny between my legs pushing deep into me, Danny coming in my belly. His first entry was exquisite. I breathed a sigh of relief and knew that this was how I wanted to spend my life: being the person he wanted and being the person who wanted him. I reveled in the hands and fingers that had brought me pleasure and now pleasured me again. I felt the joy of completion as he filled me and my channel held him fast. He wanted and I gave, I opened, I promised. "Anna please don't leave again, stay…love me…" "I'll never have a reason to go again, I need you too love…I need you in me…I need to be with you." I started to spasm into orgasm and felt the pressure of his width ease as he came in me. We moaned into each others mouth as we kissed and came. When all the moving stopped, I locked my legs around him and didn't want to let him out. He laughed as he tried to lift out and I lifted up with him. I said, "I'll only let you out if you promise to come back soon." He promised. I cuddled into him and kissed his fingers and hands. Fingers by the Pool Marian walked out to the pool and looked at the fence to see if the neighbor's son was there. The fence, about thirty feet from her lounge, was made of chain link with wooden laths woven into it and the privacy was far from perfect. A person would be able to peep through it, but only by getting close enough to be easily visible to the object of his or her spying. The neighbors' son, a fat, lazy 18 year old high school dropout named Brian or something like that, had sometimes tried to watch her in the past but she hadn't seen him for quite a while. and he wasn't watching from behind the fence that day. Marian was glad he wasn't there that day; she was hoping to be able to sunbathe topless, but would turn around and go back inside rather than putting on a show for the creepy pervert. For a few minutes, she lay on the lounge, soaking up the warm rays she loved so much, until she decided to remove her top. Marian hoped to be able to blur her tan lines, making her that much more desirable to her boyfriend, George. He wasn't really her boyfriend, just a guy she sometimes got together with for sex, but Marian called him that for lack of a better word. George really loved sucking and licking her breasts and she believed he would like it even more if they were less pale, and didn't contrast so much with the rest of her body, which was deeply tanned. After carefully looking over at the fence again, she sat up, reached behind herself and unhooked her top. There was nobody and nothing pressed up against the fence except the small wooden shed the neighbors used for storing gardening tools, so it was safe for her to remove the top. As she did, her hands massaged her large, firm breasts, lightly squeezing her very sensitive nipples between her fingers, smiling as she felt them become erect. George liked to fondle her there and he liked even more to suck her breasts and lick her nipples. She hadn't gotten together with him for quite a while and Marian started feeling horny as she remembered the last time, how her pussy became dripping wet from his mouth sucking her breasts and his tongue caressing her nipples. Just from the memory, she felt her crotch getting damp and she smiled even more as she thought of how George also loved to feast on her juices while eating her pussy and slowly bringing her to a tremendous orgasm, sometimes two. The thought of his tongue and lips pleasuring her whole body made Marian even wetter. When she lay back down, for the sake of uniformity in her tan, she turned onto her right side and raised her left arm over her head. Without really thinking about it, her right hand resumed fondling her breasts, going from one to the other, gently cupping and stroking them while her fingers and thumb rolled her erect nipples. "God, how I wish it was George's tongue and his mouth doing that," she told herself. "When I go back in the house, I'm going to call him and make a date to get together as soon as we can." Marian remembered that, besides licking and sucking her breasts and eating her pussy, George also liked to caress her ass and hips and had complimented her on how smooth and soft her skin was. She really wanted a more uniform all-over tan and, since there was nobody around to see her, she decided to take off the bottom part of her bathing suit too. Standing once again by the lounge, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of the garment and started pushing down. It was a snug fit and there was quite a bit of wiggling around to maneuver it down and around her ass and hips. Marian wasn't bothered by the difficulty and the swaying of her breasts actually added to her growing arousal. Once the suit bottom was down to her thighs, she let it drop and straightened up again. The slight breeze ruffling her well-trimmed brown pubic hair gave her more erotic thrills and her thoughts drifted again to the things George liked to do with her body. Marian lay back down in the same position with her left arm once again lying atop the side of her head. Her other hand returned immediately to her breasts and this time there was no pretense of doing anything but fondling them and playing with her nipples. As she manipulated the hard nubbins, she could feel a connection between them and her pussy, especially her clit. Juices were running down her thigh onto the lounge and Marian once again fervently wished George was there to lick them from her leg and continue from there. Since he wasn't, she did the next best thing, reaching down with her right hand to sluice them off her leg and cover her fingers, which continued on to her pussy. As she caressed her lips, which had become swollen from her desire, Marian thought again of George's tongue and how much better it felt than what she was doing. Although a poor second choice, her fingers were sending ripples of pleasure coursing through her body and eliciting blissful cooing. The position was really not very comfortable so Marian convinced herself that she had been lying on her side long enough. She rolled over onto her back, which was much better because she could easily bend forward to caress her pussy lips with the hand that was already so wet with her juices. Her left hand, which had been uselessly draped over her head until then, went to work too, starting on her nipples until Marian realized it could serve her better elsewhere. After covering her second hand with her steadily flowing juices, Marian put them both to work, caressing the engorged lips on either side of her pussy. She moaned from the pleasure while rubbing all over both pairs, even the most sensitive inner edges of her labia. It felt good but, even though he could only lick one pair of lips at a time, George's tongue still felt better than what she could do with both her hands. Second best or not, Marian knew she was getting closer to cumming so she started massaging her clit with her well-lubricated left hand. She arched her other wrist, held three of her fingers against her palm and placed the tip of the other digit, the middle one, at the entrance to her yearning pussy. Marian was multiorgasmic when George or other men were eating her pussy or fucking her and at other times when she was using her favorite dildo. The toy was flesh colored and the main shaft was long and thick and covered with raised stars and spirals to stimulate the entire inside of her pussy. A secondary shaft protruded from the side and was smooth except for the cluster of interesting shapes on the end that could do incredible things for her clit while she was plunging the toy in and out of herself. She had named the dildo "Pete", which was short for Cactus Pete because it reminded her of a picture of a Saguaro Cactus she had once seen. She wished she had George's face between her legs or Pete with her but had to settle for her middle finger. Marian slid the digit easily into her dripping pussy, all the way to the knuckle, and out and back in again. It was better than nothing and was the best thing available just then so she used it. After two more strokes, her index finger joined forces, an improvement, but still leaving much to be desired. She started plunging the fingers in faster and Marian's pussy fucked up to meet the twined fingers as they surged into her over and over. Her body writhed on the lounge and her moans became louder from the limited but very real pleasure. "Uh! Uh! Uh!" Marian whimpered as she started cumming. It didn't last nearly as long and wasn't as much fun as she was accustomed to having before she climaxed, her back arching and her body spasming. She relaxed back on the lounge; her fingers slipped out of her pussy but otherwise she lay without moving. After quickly regaining her strength from the orgasm which, on a scale of one to ten, she might have rated a two, Marian got off the lounge, picked up her bathing suit and walked into her house. Her sunbathing was over for the day because she had much more urgent things to do. First, and most important, she was going to call George and make a date to meet for sex as soon as possible. Second, unless they would be getting together that day, she would draw a hot bubble-bath, climb into it with Cactus Pete and give her pussy the workout it deserved. * Thank you for reading this story. I hope you had as much fun as Marian expects to have later with George. For the other side of what I have described, see "Peeping by the Pool" which should be posted within a day of this story. I like writing stories on this site but I like it a lot more when I know that people are reading and enjoying them. That's why I always appreciate it when readers take the time to express their opinions by voting. Like most other writers on Literotica, I practically live for feedback from readers, either public comments or email to me. Such comments help me to write more and better stories, and I respond to them whenever I can.