1 comments/ 20877 views/ 2 favorites Lisa's Jeans Ch. 01 By: gallowspole She talked about being a stripper, and I believed her. She spoke of going to school instead, and avoided the sorry myth of stripping to fund an education. She went out with guys for a week or two then dropped them, totally losing interest. She went out a lot, partied, danced, got drunk. She talked often about becoming a stripper in one of the posh suburbanclubs, where men dressed nicely and carried big wads of cash. I held little doubt that she could do well. Her body was fit, firm and curvy, covered in olive skin that glowed with her chronic tan. Her tits were offensively perky, and the long pencil eraser nipples showed easily since she usually opted not to wear a bra. Those tits should bring her a nice roll, though they were not the overinflated silicon beach balls too many girls were sporting today. She was named Lisa, and she wasn't very smart. That didn't matter to me in the least - I just wanted to fuck her. That desire, that urge grew stronger each time we met, often at my house. I was under 25 and lived alone, so all of my friends and other hangers-on came around whenever they chose. She often came with them, and I would watch her, drink in the details, try to work out an approach. After everyone had gone, my sort-of girlfriend, Joyce, would get the fucking of her life. She didn't feel like Lisa at all - Joyce was too tall, too long and too lean. Nevertheless, she was willing and in reasonable shape, and yielded to me in bed. Each time I saw Lisa, I became more aggressive with Joyce, more demanding, taking out my unfulfilled need to have Lisa. Joyce never complained, in fact, she got off harder the further I took her. I think that's why she acquiesced for as long as she did - no one had ever made her come so hard or so often. And in the darkness, Joyce served as a surrogate for Lisa, and as I pounded Joyce I imagined Lisa beneath me, her tight pussy gripping my cock, those powerful, shapely thighs clamping around my waist for added leverage as she fucked back against me. If the lights were on, I'd turn Joyce over onto her stomach, grab a handful of hair, close my eyes and fuck her mercilessly. Lisa began to come around more often, though never alone. We'd share the couch and talk under the loud music and boisterous conversation filling up the room. Again, she would talk of stripping, how much money she thought she might be able to make. I nodded my head, and never failed to drop my eyes to her fabulous tits each time the subject came up. Lisa never failed to follow where my eyes were going. She said nothing of it. I assumed, since she wanted to strip for cash and rarely wore a bra, that she anticipated, perhaps enjoyed, my staring eyes. I took silent note of the fact that those perky nipples tightened visibly the longer my gaze lingered on them. When she left, I would pin Joyce down to the bed and suck and bite her tiny nipples, turn her over to enter her, and pinch them between myfingertips, pulling and twisting as my cock ground inside her. It wasn't enough. I told Joyce we weren't compatible, and in her dull pliable manner she listlessly agreed, and that was that. I stopped masturbating, letting the sexual energy build up. Lisa kept stopping by to have the same conversations with the sentence order only slightly altered, but I didn't care. My eyes took in her body, savoring the curves, lines, and muscles. My fingers twitched, wanting handfuls of her silky smooth dark hair. One of the many nights I sifted through her inanities searching for a way in, she threw open the gates. She steered the conversation, as always it seemed, to stripping. "Lisa," I asked, "what would your boyfriend think about you getting up in front of all those men and getting naked for money?" "I don't have a boyfriend." "Why not?" She shrugged and looked down at her hands, twining her fingers together. "None of them are strong enough for me." I paused, trying to sort this out. Most of the guys she messed with were physically fit, some of them monstrously so. This wasn't about muscles. I played dumb. "What do you mean? I've seen some of those guys. They look like pro wrestlers." Lisa shrugged again, then leaned back against the far end of the couch. Her jeans pulled snug at the crotch, and I couldn't help but look. "They just aren't strong enough for me," she said quietly. I had to strain to hear her. "In what way are they weak?" "In ways that you're not." My cock twitched in my jeans. "What would you know about me?" Lisa let out a throaty chuckle. "When Joyce drinks, she's got a big mouth." I shifted to take the pressure off my dick, letting it stretch along the inside of my left thigh. Lisa glanced down at the bulge, her eyes narrowing to slits. "Tell me, Lisa, what did Joyce have to say?" People started to leave, tossing goodbyes toward me on their way out the door. Lisa made no move to leave.She leaned further back against the arm of the couch and let her legs fall open, the seam of those tight jeans bisecting her mound. "She told me that you fucked her whenever and wherever you pleased. She told me you were a bit rough with her, but you made her come so many times that she kind of liked the hard treatment. She said that you were demanding." "Did she tell you I dumped her?" Lisa shook her head. "No. Why?" "She was too easy to push around, and too passive in bed. " "Really? She sounds kinda slutty to me." "'Kinda'. That's the problem. She was playing at it." Lisa said nothing, staring at my hard on, licking her lower lip with the tip of her pink tongue. I waited, then realized I shouldn't. "Lisa, do you know where my bedroom is?" She nodded. "Good. Go and wait for me there on the small couch." She stood slowly, regarding me through hooded eyes. Without another word, she turned and disappeared down the hallway. She'd normally have left by now. It took only a few minutes to completely clear the house, and I was ready for her. I entered the bedroom to find Lisa sitting on the two seater couch, leaning forward, legs crossed. There was an air of timidity about her, quite different from the girl in the living room, whose legs had been parted in invitation, tongue making silent promises. "Stand up, Lisa," I said in a quiet voice. Her gaze remained on the floor as she stood for me, nipples erect beneath her shiny black top. The curve of her thighs ended in a beautifully delineated pussy molded by the tight denim. I was hard, getting harder. "Look at me." Her eyes met mine. "Turn around and face the wall." I approached and stood directly behind her, our bodies bare inches apart. "Put your hands up on the wall, and move your feet farther apart." Her ass looked perfect beneath the denim skin, taut, seductively shaped. I lifted her hair off her neck, moving my lips next to her ear. "Other men haven't been strong enough for you?" She shook her head slightly. "Did they not fuck you hard enough?" A quick rush of air sounded from her nose. Again she shook her head. "No," she whispered. "Did they make you come?" "Sometimes." One hand held her hair, with the other I traced a slow pattern along the line of her jaw. "Did you suck their cocks?" "Yes." Rubbing my finger back and forth over her lower lip, I asked, "How did you get here?" "What?" "Why are you here now, standing in this vulnerable position, your ass sticking out, your hands up on the wall, waiting? You thought about this, about me, long before tonight, right?" "Yes, I have." "Probably before you heard Joyce babbling, correct?" She tried to nod but couldn't; my grip on her hair had tightened. "Yes." "And did you finger fuck yourself, thinking of me?" A small moan escaped her mouth, and I slipped the tip of my finger between her lips. "Uh-huh," was all she could manage. I felt her lips close around my finger, creating light suction. "Tell me, Lisa. Did your fantasies of me change after hearing Joyce describe the things I did to her, the things I made her do for me?" I pulled my finger from her mouth, sliding it down her neck into the cleavage formed by the low cut top. "God yes." I grasped her wrists and pinned them to the wall, then covered her body with mine, pressing my cock against her glorious ass. "Tell me." "I imagined you holding me down, doing me like you did her. I lay in my bed making myself come, wondering how it would feel to have your cock inside me. She told me you sometimes called her names when you got rough, and she didn't like to admit it, but that excited her. It turns me on too." She rocked her ass back against my hard on. "Stay still," I ordered. I cupped her breast, rubbing my palm in circles over the hard nipple. Lisa shivered, but otherwise kept still. I tilted my hips forward, increasing the pressure of my cock against her ass. "What Joyce doesn't know, Lisa, is that I fucked so hard, and got rougher and rougher with her, and called her nasty names because I considered her a substitute for you." My fingers clamped onto her nipple, pulling it away from her chest. My other hand reached around and yanked her top down until both of her perky tits popped free. "You've been teasing me for months, haven't you?" "Yes!" "Coming around here in your tight pants, short skirts, showing off your tits and never wearing a bra." I squeezed her breasts roughly. "Is this what you were looking for, slut?" She strained to keep from moving. Her breathing was louder and heavier, interspersed with grunts and moans as I mauled her breasts. My lust was almost impossible to contain. I cupped the crotch of her jeans, feeling heat and dampness. Hand shaking, I managed to undo the button and slide the zipper down. "When I touch your pussy, will it be wet for me?" "Yes," she replied, voice quavering. "Beg." My hand still gripped her crotch, squeezing rhythmically. "Please..." "Beg!" "Please touch my pussy." I jammed my hand inside her jeans until my middle finger slid along her pussy lips, already slick with her cream. Her hips jerked and I pushed forward, grinding my erection against her ass. Moisture coated my finger as it lay nestled in the hot embrace of her slit. Slowly, I moved it back and forth, gathering lubrication, applying just enough pressure to push the swollen lips apart until my fingertip was encircled by by warm, wet flesh. Lisa began to pant. I curled my long finger and sank it inside her a bit at a time until it could go no further. "Feel good?" I asked her. "Yes." "I want you to hump my finger. Try and get yourself off." I could sense her hesitation, but her need drove her. The initial undulations were long and slow, back and forth on my digit, her pussy clamping rhythmically. Again and again, forward onto my finger, then back, her lush ass bumping against my cock. I had to force myself to breathe slowly to maintain some semblance of control. Her motions became more pronounced. "Oh, shit. That feels so good." My first finger was joined by a second, and after adjusting to the sensation, Lisa began to fuck them in earnest. I leaned forward and licked the soft skin just below her ear. "Do you like fucking my fingers?" "Yes!" Her hips were rolling more rapidly now. There was a loud buzzing in my head and my heart was pounding. I was going to go over the edge. I bit her earlobe. "You're so fucking wet. Can you hear it? Can you smell your horny cunt?" "...oh yeah...so wet..." "When you come, you're going to soak the crotch of your jeans, you little slut." I hooked my fingers upwards, pressing hard against the pubic bone. Her rhythm was shattered, and she fucked down on my probing fingers with an erratic motion. A series of inarticulate cries sounded over her hoarse panting, and she came. Her pussy clamped down hard on my fingers while her entire body went rigid, quivering like a taut bowstring. A sudden gush of moisture coated my fingers, oozing out over my knuckles, soaking the denim still tight against the back of my hand. Her rigidity broke all at once, and she sagged against me, weakened arms straining to keep her from collapsing. This was more incredible than I had ever imagined, and I knew I was going to come soon. "That was..." she choked,"...so fucking amazing..." "Turn around and get on your knees." Lisa's response was slow. I had to come now, and didn't want her to see me losing it in my pants. I grabbed handfuls of her hair and forced her to sink to her knees. "Take it out. Now!" Her shaking hands fumbled with the zipper. I slapped them away and undid it myself, yanking out my painfully hard cock. "Suck it," I hissed between clenched teeth. "Suck my fucking cock and swallow my cum." Regaining her senses, Lisa grasped the base of my dick and slid her mouth over the purple tip, applying strong suction. The buzzing in my head now sounded in my ears, so loud I could barely hear the slurping noises her sexy little mouth was making. Her head bobbed back and forth, leaving wet trails of exquisite pleasure along the length of my cock. "Deeper!," I moaned, and she complied. "Oh, fuck!," I gasped, and started spewing my cum into her sucking mouth. I held my breath and saw flashes of light and color against my closed eyelids. My whole body jerked with each stream of semen she swallowed. My knees went weak. A strange numbness covered my legs, crawling up my back. I felt her pop my cock out of her mouth, holding it gently in both hands. The numbness slid over my back and swarmed up my neck, covering my skull. It had never been this good, this complete. That was my last conscious thought. (End Part 1) * * * * * (Note: If you enjoyed my story and would like a second chapter, feel free to let me know. Criticism is welcome, just be gentle - this is my first go round.) Lisa's Jeans Ch. 02 (This story is a continuation of "Lisa's Jeans Ch.01," and will make a semblance of sense if you read that one first. Enjoy!) * When I awoke, I was alone. The lights were still on and there was a pillow under my head. A couple of slow deep breaths helped to clear my sight. I was laying on the floor, pants open, my deflated prick flopped over to one side. The sweat on my body had cooled and dried and I felt a little chilled. No idea how long I'd been out. I passed out. Holy shit. I had no frame of reference for this. Sure, I'd drunk my fill in times past and awakened with furry teeth and nasty tongue in a place I couldn't recognize, but sex? Passing out from a blow job? And where the hell was Lisa? Thinking of her whereabouts recalled her heat, her willingness, the look in her eyes as the first spurt of my cum filled her mouth. Sitting up I found my sorry cock pulsing back to hardness. The entire experience strained credulity. Unconsciousness was not an option. Had I not been thoroughly bested, this would have been funny. So many months of wanting her, carefully plotting the course, and we didn't even fuck. I made her cream her jeans and got a blow job in return, then fainted like an amateur. I thought about calling Lisa but couldn't imagine what to say, so I clambered gratefully into the shower to wash off the residue of our encounter and attempt to restore my dignity. Thirty minutes later I lounged on the couch, sipping a cold beer while absently flipping the channels on the TV. It felt good to be clean and naked. I prefer to wear little or nothing when hanging around the house. I gave the phone a last look, and decided to let the business with Lisa wait until the morning. Remote in hand, I settled in to watch some bad television. The ringer woke me from a light doze. I snatched up the receiver reflexively. "Hello?" There was a brief pause, followed by a throaty chuckle. "Did I wake you?" "Lisa?" "Mmm Hmm." I sat up. "I was just dozing on the couch watching TV. What's up?" Innocuous question, unless you ask it of someone you passed out in front of. "Nothing, really. Just lying here. Do you feel all right?" "Yeah, I'm fine. Why did you leave?" The money question. My ears were burning and I could feel a flush creeping across my face. "Well, Eric, you looked so peaceful, down on the floor like that. I figured if it was that good, you ought to take a rest afterwards." I could hear the laughter in her voice. My embarrassment jumped a notch, and in response to her voice, my dick began to rise. Watching it twitch and slowly grow, I said: "Imagine my surprise when I rejoin the world to find you gone and my pants open." She chuckled out loud. "I take it you got home ok?" "Got home fine," Lisa replied. "When I got into my car, I turned on the overhead light. Guess what I saw?" "Tell me." She paused. Then, "I looked down at the crotch of my jeans, and there was this big stain. Seeing that stain, after the things you said to me about soaking my pants, almost made me have another orgasm, right there, in my car." I was almost fully erect. "What did you do after you got home?" "Well," she drew out the word, "I laid down on my bed, and started thinking about tonight, about you, about the way you made me feel." "How do you feel right now?" Longer pause this time. "Not sure I can tell you that, exactly." The pitch of her voice had dropped. "Tell me, Lisa." She let out a long, slow breath. "I'm still wearing those jeans, they're still wet, and I've been so turned on for the last two hours." Her voice cracked. "So I'm lying on my bed, like I told you, but..." She trailed off. I let the silence stretch out, the ball of my thumb lightly stroking the underside of my cock. "Tell me, Lisa," I whispered into the phone. Cradling the receiver in the hollow of my shoulder, my left hand trailed down past my right to gently cup my balls, rolling them between my fingers. The lightest touch can have the most intense effect. "Tell me, Lisa," I repeated. "Oh shit," she moaned. "All right, OK, I'll tell you." Another pause. "I'm waiting." "I took off my top. There's a cotton cover on the bed, it's a little rough to the touch. I'm lying on my stomach, and the cotton is rubbing a little against my nipples." she sighed. "They're so fucking hard and sensitive. I loved how you pinched them and pulled them." The last came out as a whispered moan. Of its own accord, my left hand squeezed and tugged on my sack, while the other surrounded the hard shaft. "That isn't all you've been doing, is it Lisa." A flat statement. "No." "I didn't think so. You've been quite the nasty little slut since you left here. Your hot cunt must be absolutely dripping for those jeans to still be so wet." "So wet," she panted into my ear. "What precisely have you been thinking about that's kept you creaming so hard?" "I, uh, I can't stop thinking about how you handled me, pushed up against the wall, the feel of your hard cock against my ass. The things you were saying, god! That just sent me off." "And?" "Well, there was this moment, when you pushed me to my knees while I was still cumming, and I couldn't control my hands well enough to unzip your pants..." "Yes?" "I could see how painfully hard you were, and I knew you were going to make me suck you off, and I was so ready, but I couldn't do it right, get it out, and you slapped my hand away and unzipped it yourself. My hand was still stinging and your big cock was sliding into my mouth, and I wanted you to take me, use me anyway you needed to at that moment." My cock jumped in my hand, and I gripped it tighter, using strong strokes. She really had me going."Tell me what you are doing right now." "I can't" "You will." She groaned, a long, drawn out, animal noise. It had been clear by her labored breathing that she wasn't lying still. In whispered, irregular pants she told me."I have some cushions from my couch." Another explosive breath. "I'm face down, my nipples grinding into the rough cotton, and, and, I'm...I'm straddling the cushions. Oh!" I could hear more noise, a rhythmic grunting and the sound of movement, skin on cotton, hypnotic in its regularity. "Describe what you are doing with the cushions you're straddling." "I'm pressing down on them...feels so good. When you put your fingers inside me, when you made me cum all over these jeans, and the crotch was so wet in the car, and when I got here I looked in the mirror...oh fuck! I could see the stain, plain as day..." Her words were coming in smaller groups as she humped the pillows. "I wanted to call you right away, but I thought I should wait...and I knew if I touched myself I'd cum, and I thought I should wait for you..." I slid the palm of my hand in circles over the tip of my cock, smearing the precum lubricant around the head. Taking a very tight grip I began pumping my hips up off the couch, performing a slow fuck of my fist. "Pull your jeans down, Lisa. just enough to allow you to straddle those cushions and grind your bare pussy on them." I heard the phone drop and a frantic rustle of movement. She came back on the line, breathing hard. "This is so nasty." "You're what's nasty, Lisa, humping a stack of pillows, desperate to get off." I struggled to keep the strain out of my voice as I pumped my cock through the slick channel formed by my fist. "Now work that hot little ass of yours, back and forth. Rub that wet pussy down on those pillows." Her pace was picking up. "unh...unh...unh..." "Push your hand down there, between the cushions and your cunt." "Yeah." "I want you to put three fingers into that tight, wet box, and don't be gentle about it." Her moans grew sharper, higher in pitch. "Oh my God that feels so good!" "Hold that hand still and fuck your self down on it." My fist squeezed harder and the stroking of my cock was getting shorter and quicker. That familiar sensation of near numbness engulfed my prick and there was no way to slow down the sweet inevitable. "Ride those fingers, baby. I've got my hard cock fucking in and out of my fist." "Oh...shit...fuck me...fuck me!..." "That's my cock inside you, Lisa. Fuck it, fuck it good." My eyes were shut tight, and I was grunting with effort, my ass leaping off the couch to drive my cock forward. "Oh!...oh!...oh! Fuck me Eric!" Rapid sounds of movement turned arrhythmic. Gaining a hold of my voice before falling off the edge, I growled "I'm going to cum now, Lisa, cum inside your fucking pussy!" A last hard thrust and my cock lept in my fist, spurting strings of cum onto the couch, the floor, my hand. Through the loud thrumming in my ears I could hear incoherent screams and cries as Lisa thrashed through her orgasm, calling my name. I clung to consciousness this time, but it was close. Lisa mumbled unintelligibly in a hoarse voice as she fought to catch her breath. I rubbed my cum soaked hand back and forth through my pubic hair, over my lower belly, wanting to be messy and sticky the way she undoubtedly was right now. Those poor cushions would have to be washed or thrown away, just like her jeans. * (Note: All criticism, especially of the constructive variety, is welcome!)