1 comments/ 13053 views/ 1 favorites Love Story By: BathusnPeaches In bed at night you touch yourself. You wonder if I'm watching, if I saw you masturbating. You wonder if I'm now touching myself thinking about you. And I am. I like to watch you, touching yourself. I like watching you lay in the semi-darkness in your bed at night. I listen to your breathing, the sounds of you sliding against the sheets, your breath, purring, your legs open. I can see you shaved, and I'm struck with a flash of excitement; my cock gets immediately, vigorously hard. I can see the smooth bareness of your inner-thighs, your hand between them, your breasts and belly glowing, your eyes closed, your mouth slightly open, your hair around your face. I think about coming into the room, kneeling next to the bed, touching you, kissing you. I think about you sitting on my lap, rubbing yourself on my hardening cock, squeezing and pulling on it, making me hard. You ask me if I want you to put me in your mouth? "Yes, put me in your mouth, baby." And you do, saying in almost a whisper, "I love sucking you, baby." I rub your beautiful pussy; I touch your legs, your round sexy feminine bottom, your back, the touch like electric velvet. You slide your bottom toward me so I can reach you, and I do. You use both hands on me, you lick the head of my cock and then take me into your mouth again as I feel the smooth-softness of you, and how wet you are. My fingers dance over your pussy, don't they. baby. "Yeah, show me your pussy, baby," and you do. "Were you touching yourself while you watched me?" "I was." You moan onto my cock pulsing in your hand, in your mouth. I love your figure, your curves. I love watching you, your mouth on me. I roll you over, and we 69. I love licking your pussy, flicking your clit with my tongue, mouthing you. You lay your full weight flat on me, and you're weightless, my belly touching your belly, your breasts brushing my stomach. I bite at the insides of your creamy thighs, run my hands over your back, run my hands up and inside your thighs. I reach around to feel your breasts, lick you as you suck me into your mouth, your hand moving up and down, fused, melting like butter together, utterly in lust for each other, carnal. We lay back together, my arm behind you, your head on my shoulder. I reach around your neck, over your shoulder, trace a line around and to your breast, to your nipple, I squeeze lightly, and then more firm. You ask me to touch you, to suck on your sweet little titties, to touch your sweet little pussy, and I do. I ask, "do you like it baby, do you like it the way I touch you?" "Yes," you whisper, "you touch me the way I like to be touched. You know just how to touch me, don't you?" "I do, baby, I do." You open your legs wider, open yourself to me, give yourself to me, your belly and breasts exposed, your neck and face, your lips, your eyes, and I marvel at you, lightly, lightly rubbing circles over your bare mound, lightly playing over your clit with a touch so delicate it's like breath, a breeze, the ocean. I lick the underside of your breast, sucking harder on first one breast and then the other, taking your nipples in my mouth, rolling my tongue around them, sucking them into the wet hot of my mouth. Your hips roll to my touches, my cock is hot, aches, swells, jumps, leaves wet trails on your leg as you press your thigh against it. You feel it, don't you? You know I'm hard for you, don't you baby. You know you make me crazy for you, don't you. "Touch me, baby, touch my cock." You sigh a breath of excited eroticism, and you do, barely at first, loosely wrapping your fingers around it, lightly wrapping your fingers around it. It feels big, and hard, and hot for you, baby, and it gets bigger in your hand, doesn't it. You squeeze, and I moan, you roll the head in your fingers, play over it, satiny, rigid, thick, and I begin fucking your hand, don't I. "Kiss me, baby, put your tongue in my mouth," and you do. You roll toward me onto your side, lift your thigh and put your knee on my thigh, and touch the head of my cock to the heat of your pussy. I feel your folds, the creamy hot wetness of you, and I crave you, ache for you, want to fuck your sweet little pussy. You open your mouth saying, "Kiss me," and you slide your tongue in my mouth, and we kiss madly, hotly. I am lost in your kiss, made crazy in that kiss, our tongues lashing at one another, giving up all control. In one fluid motion you climb on top of me, straddle me, your beautiful breasts above me. We gaze into each other's eyes as you slide back, and forth, over my length, and back again, rocking your wetness along me, your lips wrapping around me like a breeze of heat as I lean up and lick your nipple, take your breast in my mouth, and suck. "You like that don't you, baby." You lower yourself to me on your arms as I cup your other breast in the palm of my hand, it's a sensuous warmth, and I suck the nipple of the other into my mouth. My hips move up toward you, are in rhythm with you, my cock sliding along your pussy, wet with you. "I like it when you sit on me, my hands free to touch you, to reach behind you and play with your soft beautiful pussy," I say into your ear, rubbing your clit, licking the under swell of your breasts, sucking on your nipples, touching you all over as you touch just the head of my cock to your pussy. "Yes, touch me, more," you breathe. I feel you, the head of my cock inside you, your belly pressed forward. I reach out and touch your belly, rub my thumb over your mound as you guide my cock into you, slide into you, deeper, slow, and then inside you. "Oh baby doll, yeah, fuck me baby doll, fuck me," and you squeeze me tighter, you squeeze me inside you, deep inside you, my cock filling you, up and down, grabbing my cock with your sweet little pussy. Our bodies meld, we pull tight against each other. My cock slides up inside you, your pussy squeezes my thickness, and I pull your mouth to mine. I pull you down harder onto me, closer against me, your whole body available to me, in my arms. I spread your pussy lips, slide my fingers in your juices, over your clit, flick your clit while I push my cock deeper into your sweet little pussy. I feel my cock sliding inside you with my fingers, I feel myself, my hardness, so big gliding up inside you like a piston, going inside you. I touch my cock as it goes in and out of our delicious sex, baby. You put your tongue in my mouth, we swirl around each other, the heat between us rises, you slide up and down the length of my cock, we have a perfect rhythm, your pussy is so hot, my cock so hard. "Fuck me, baby," you breathe hotly, "fuck me, fuck me, fuck your hot little girl, fuck me with your big hard cock, fuck my sweet little pussy." And I do. I pull you onto me, our bodies flowing, you ride up and squeeze me, ride down and I thrust, go deeper. "You make me feel so naughty," you say as you rub your pussy on my legs. "Mmm, I love making you feel naughty, baby." Love Story We met in class my junior year. I knew who he was; he sang in one of the choirs and he had been on student government with me, but we had never really spoken or anything. He had just changed majors to history, which was my major, so we had several classes together. At first, it was just, "What did you get on the paper?" Then it was talking to each other as we passed on campus. He started walked me to my next class, and then he visited my own choir singing, which was almost proof of his intent. He knew no one else in choir but me. There was no other reason to visit. The problem, however, was that we only talked about class. Our discussions were solely based around academia. Frustrating as that was, what was more frustrating was the fact that it was nearly Christmas, and he hadn't asked me out. I was starting to give up hope when I found out he had planned his spring schedule so he could take as many classes with me as he could. He liked me! I knew he must! But still, he never said anything. After Christmas break, we continued our old routine of debating lightly his conservative beliefs with my liberal convictions. We found excuses to meet outside of class: working dinners, dropping by each other's work, borrowing a text. As Valentine's Day approached, still nothing happened. Until one day after class, he asked me if I wanted to go see A Chorus Line on Saturday night. My first reaction was, "Are you gay???" My second was, "Yes!" The rest of the week flew by as I anticipated our first date. When we left my apartment for the long drive to Los Angeles, my apartment was in shambles. Spurned clothes draped the bed and dresser in my room, and shoes were littered over the living room. But he thought I looked lovely in a black wrap dress and stilettos. All I could think was, "He sure does clean up nice!" The evening ended in just a kiss, but we were soon spending several nights a week together, usually doing homework. When we weren't working or in class, we were together. I am a very independent woman, so after a month of this, I told him it had to stop. "I can't be around you all the time. I need space!" I explained. He was less sympathetic. "I like you so much; I just want to be around you all the time!" He couldn't understand my frustration, so finally I gave up the fight. At least during the summer we would be apart. Or so I thought. I was staying over the summer to work, and he lived only thirty miles away from campus. Our weekends were still spent every minute in each other's company, but he would call every night to make sure I was ok. It was rather sweet, but I was 21. I could make these decisions for myself.... Right? But the unthinkable happened. I was walking home from work; it was almost nine o'clock, and it was a safe campus, but I was pulled into a car, taken across town to the Orchards, and raped. I think he blamed himself for not being there to get me from work. I'm not sure why. He probably would have gotten hurt. But he grew even more protective. He was already living off campus the next year, so he asked me to move in with him. I was hesitant; that was a huge step to make. But I felt as if I had no choice; I certainly didn't feel safe on campus anymore. Living with a man that is worried over your safety is not fun. Lightening doesn't strike twice, I told him. I was just glad I wasn't pregnant. But he didn't like me going out alone at night, and he insisted on meeting me after my shift at work. I suppose you could call it sweet; I called it stifling. About a year after we were together, I started a terrific fight over his protectiveness. "I'm a twenty-first century woman, and I don't need protecting!" "You're just going to accept that for who I am. I love you too much to let anything harm you. I admit I may be going too far, but after what happened, I want to make sure nothing like that ever happens to you again." He seemed so calm and rational I had to give in and ask for forgiveness for complaining. After that, he wasn't quite so restrictive, but he still worried if he didn't know where I was. We hadn't ever slept together. I know, I know, we were living together! But he had been so worried about hurting me, because he was too big and might lose control, so he kept pushing it off. I know he hated doing that, how it hurt him. He wanted me so badly. And I wanted him! I didn't remember my rape, didn't remember what sex was like. I thought I would go crazy wonderingFinally, to save my sanity, I decided so seduce him. "Red negligee's drive men wild," my sister assured me. My best friend, Mandi, gave me a pair of fuck me heels, so that with a red see through negligee. He came home from work a little late, and I was waiting for him, with barely and clothes on. One look at me and he practically snarled, "Go put some damn clothes on!" I simply walked to him and kissed him. After a few minutes he wrenched himself away and growled at me. I said, "Honey, I want to do this. Please." His eyes burned as they took in the high heels, the scanty clothes and G-string. He backed me against the door and said, "If I lose control, tell me. Promise?" I did, and he started to devour my neck and mouth. I felt like he was trying to brand me with all the hickeys he was giving me. He lifted me up, ripping the negligee from me, exposing my breasts. He sucked my nipples, hard, and bit them. It hurt, but I didn't know what else sex was supposed to be like, so I just accepted it as normal. He was panting as he lifted me over his shoulder and carried me to the bedroom. I closed my eyes in anticipation of losing my virginity (I didn't count the rape as actual sex). He laid me down on the bed and got on top of me. This is it! Ouch. That hurts! Stop!! I didn't say them. I just laid there as he started fucking me. It was horrible. I tried to think of England, but all I could think was, this hurts! Even though I had already been raped, I've learned that I wasn't aroused enough. I thought things would get better when we started having sex, but they just got worse. He was busy, not taking me out anymore. And I needed time with my friends, which he never let me have. "Look," he said, "I want to protect you and keep you safe. That's just who I am. I'm not trying to stifle you; I just don't want to lose you." "You're going to lose me if you don't let me be free," I warned him. "I need space in relationships. I can't be with you all the time." "We live together," he pointed out. "It's almost impossible to avoid being together." "Just let me go out with the girls a few times a week," I pleaded. "Don't keep me in so much." "And where would you go?" he asked. "A club? A bar? Are you asking for another rape?" I gasped with horror. "How dare you!" I waited for him to apologize, but he didn't. "I think we should take a break." "Why? Nothing will change. I'm still going to look out for you. I'll stalk you if I must, but whatever I have to do, I will keep you safe." I slumped with defeat. "I guess there isn't much point then." I didn't doubt his word. He was the kind of man who would kill me to protect me. Nothing changed in our relationship, except that he went out with me more, so i wasn't in the house all the time. But enough was enough, and I decided it was time for a little rebellion. I told him I was going to the library with Mandi, my best friend, to study for a midterm. He asked me to call him when I got there and when I left, and I needed to be home by one am. Like I'm sixteen and need a curfew, I fumed. In actuality, the midterm had been two days before, and Mandi and I decided to go celebrate. In her car I changed into a red mini skirt and a black sheer top that left nothing to the imagination. We went to a club where I danced, flirted with strange men, and drank to my hearts content. I was a little drunk when I came home at 12:54, but I blamed it on sleepiness. The next six months flew by, with me spending more than the normal amount of time at the library. When I started graduate school that fall, he gave me a new zippy little car as my present. Little did I know what the present was actually for. Mandi and I continued our subterfuge, only less often, because our studied demanded much more time. It was nearly Thanksgiving when i came home from one late night of dancing to find him pacing the living room, red as a pepper. "How was the library?" he asked softly. "Good. I got a lot of reading done." "Could I show you something?" He reached onto his desk for a pile of papers. I moved closer to see what he had. "Can you explain why at least once a week you have been going to a night club?" I grabbed the papers. "You've been tracking me??" His cool stare frightened me. "You lied to me." "I wanted to have fun!" Suddenly, he grabbed my computer bag, unzipping it and pulling out what I had worn that night: a teeny black skirt that ended half an inch above my ass and a purple sheer bra. "Go put these on." "What?" "Go." When I came back in the revealing clothes, he motioned for me to come to him. I stood next to him, wondering what he would say. His arms circled me around my waist, and then forced me down onto his lap. "What the hell are you doing?" I screamed. The first smack was my answer. "Don't you dare hit me! Stop this now!" "You're dressed as a slut," he said. "Good little sluts like getting spanked don't they?" Blow after blow rained down on my creamy smooth ass that had never felt a spanking. After only ten smacks tears ran down my cheeks as I sobbed my regret. But he kept hitting me, over and over, until I was sure my ass was bleeding. Finally, he stopped. "Don't lie to me ever again," he warned. "Yes, sir," I hiccupped. "I won't." He drew me up and carried me to the bedroom, where he tucked me into bed, letting me snuggle against him. The next few months were perfect, but, as always, I got antsy. I asked him if I could go out, but the answer was yet again, "Not without me." He was working on his thesis, so there was no time for him to take me out. After a couple weeks, I called Mandi up, and we restarted our whole routine of sneaking out. He didn't catch me, so I got bolder until I was staying out until 3 am and coming home more than just tipsy. I don't know why he never said anything. Maybe he felt I should get raped again to learn my lesson. I don't know. I do know that I slept with another man, coming home with that man's seed still in my pussy. I didn't even bother to shower, just crawled into bed with him. I'm not sure what happened, how he guessed. But at four am, I was shaken awake by a very irate boyfriend. "You fucked another man," he hissed. "What? Huh? No I didn't." How did he know? "I can smell it on you. You lied to me, snuck out, and fucked another man." He went to the closet and pulled out several ties. I scooted back on the bed, wondering what he was going to do. He walked towards me, setting the ties down on the bed but one. He grabbed my wrists, tying them together, and then forcing me to lie on my tummy, he tied my arms to the bed posts. I was screaming, twisting and kicking, but he was so much stronger. Then he quickly tied my legs to opposite bedposts. "What the fuck are you doing?" I demanded. "Doing what I should have done a long time ago." I could hear him take something out of the closet, but I had no idea what it was until I heard the whistle of leather though the air smacking down onto my ass. Screaming, I pleaded with him to let me go. But he didn't. He kept spanking me with his belt until welts formed. I was beyond crying; I was so shocked. But I was more shocked when he got onto the bed, grabbed my ass (which was horribly painful), and started fucking me. It was not for my pleasure – I was as dry as the Sahara. It hurt so much, and I could feel my vagina tear from the force. "That's too good for you, isn't it?" I heard him say. He withdrew and tried to force his dick into my ass. I screamed; I was an anal virgin, and there was no lube. I begged him to stop, but he didn't listen. His dick was in me, and he went in and out, calling me a dirty slut, a filthy bitch that needed to be taught a lesson. When he finally came, he untied me. I was too weak to move; too sore to protest when he stuck is dirty penis in my mouth. "Good little sluts clean up after their masters, don't they?" I sucked the foul tasting thing, choking when he let out a stream of urine in my mouth. He pulled out of my mouth, still urinating, splashing it on me, "marking" me as his. Then he collapsed on the bed, spent. While he snored, I got up, quickly showered, and quietly packed all the belongings I could in my suitcase. I stayed with Mandi for a few months, until I had a steady job so I could afford my own apartment. I taught school in the day, taking my graduate classes at night. I don't know if he followed me. I didn't care, although I changed my cell number and got a restraining order. Mandi had convinced me to go to the hospital to get a rape kit done, but there wasn't enough evidence to put him in jail. It was ok. I didn't care. It was years before I could go out with another man. Oh, I knew all men weren't like him. But I didn't want to date. It didn't interest me. I had already gotten my Ph.D. and was teaching at Columbia University before I had my first date with the man I would marry. He's bald, short, funny. The total opposite of the man that abused me. My husband is wonderful, letting me be free, and not worrying about me all the time, as far as I know, at least. He teaches English at New York University, and we're expecting a baby any day now. I guess my life has turned out amazingly well for a victim like me. Love Story They had been together for 11 years and their love was deep. Those years had proven to beat them down and build them up stronger than they ever were before. Time can change so many things, and they had both done some changing. Even though their love was stronger than ever life could get pretty mundane sometimes. Four children, grocery shopping once a week, same shit, different day. He checked out of their life more often than not, and she grew bored so easily. One night she decided to spice things up and see if she could entice him to out of his shell. He came home to a letter like no other letter he'd ever read in his life. She had finally understood that allowing one another to be human and to share in experiences did not mean something bad, and that it could possibly be what saves them. She wrote of her fantasies and things she would love to explore. It had taken a lot of courage for her to be that open; even with him. When she asked him if he was surprised by the things in the letter he replied, "Not really. I always knew you were a dirty little bitch." She smiled. Thoughts of their first encounters eleven years ago swimming through her mind. Her short skirt, smooth, panty-less passion underneath as she opened the door. God how he had devoured her. She felt herself grow warm between thighs. The letter had made him hard. She could see it through his jeans. She bit her bottom lip and her eyes went smoky. She dropped to her knees and started rubbing it with the palm of her hand. He stood up and looked down into her eyes. She held his gaze as she un-did his belt and loosed him from his jeans. His bulging cock bobbing before her made the walls of her pussy ache to feel it inside her. Her clit was tingling with anticipation. He moaned as her tongue ran along each side of his sac. She lifted his balls to swirl her tongue on the under-side and tease his ass as she stroked his cock. She pulled each nut into her mouth and gently sucked as she stroked. He grabbed her by the hair, teased her mouth with his cock until she begged to suck it. He began to work the swollen head in and out of her mouth, moaning more and more, teasing them both as he stared hard into her eyes. What he saw was alive and beautiful and his for the taking. He began to slowly fuck her pretty face. Each thrust tapping the back of her sexy throat. Her palms were cupping and rolling and slightly tugging on his balls. She reached behind to cup his ass and pull him deeper into her mouth. She craved more cock. She wanted him to crave her like an addict craves their next high. He was her drug. She wanted to be his. He pulled her to her feet. She continued to stare into his eyes as she stood before him and un-dressed. Her breasts falling out of her bra, size C's begging to greet his tongue. He bent down and twirled his tongue around each nipple and pulled them into his mouth. She gasped his name and begged to be fucked. So he backed her up to the bed and turned her around. Her round tight ass in all its glory. His cock fucking twitched at the sight. He ordered her to get on all fours on the bed and put that nice hot ass in the air. He spanked it lightly before grabbing her hips and slapping her pussy with his cock. She begged him to fuck her. To force his way into the wet walls of pleasure waiting between her thighs, and thrust it deep and slow. Thrust after thrust his balls were slapping her ass. He felt the tension rise and his cock begging for release. So he thrusted deeper and faster into her unbelievable cunt. She begged him to tell her she was a dirty whore. He grabbed her pony tail from behind and forced her head up as he told her what a good little whore she was. His whore. He felt the walls of her sweet box contract in ecstasy. Her juices running down his dick as he pounded her pussy and released his orgasm deep inside her. Out of nowhere she heard the T.V. again. Voices of children laughing and arguing down the hall permeated her senses. What an escape that had been. They lay down and he held her as they talked about life, about kids, about money. She realized how comfortable she always felt with him. No one else could make her feel so safe. So she told him that next time they decided to bring spice to their life she wants a dick for each hand. Love Story From Foy Beach We had a love that transcended a simple relationship. No matter how fucked up our time together was. The high highs. The low lows. You know? And now we were on the way back to good. Back to perfect. Back to where we wanted to be. Back to the beach. ___________________ It was a few years ago. We were spending a long weekend at the beach. This was when everything was still innocent. Under a beaming sun, floating in the warm sea, I held her in my arms. Once, I watched her swim to my brother, as his girl swam to me. No one had talked about it. We just kissed. I kissed my girl and his. Later, the girls were sitting on my lap in a bar. They kissed me one at a time and then kissed each other. There was a heat between them and a glean in their eyes that signaled the night to come. A father and son cheered us on. It was a highlight. One of many. Even though we did not have a threesome. The girls wanted to. I REALLY wanted it. But my brother said no. Which in retrospect was nice of him…he broke up with his girl within a month. But year later my girl still has her claws in me. Even though our paths have diverged. For the time being. ____________________ Now, she’s dating a guy named Foy. Which is fine by me. Because I did things that weren’t fair to her or us. Yes, I did her wrong. But only after she did me wrong. No one is perfect. Pedestals tip over easily. Nonetheless, she wants me back. I want her back too. And we are planning how that will happen. Like the kisses in the sea, everything is unspoken. We will merely do what feels right. And pop culture provides the means. We will take the advice of Mr. Jerry Seinfeld. We will attempt The Roommate Swap. Except he and I aren’t roommates. We’re just guys who will be sharing her. At the same time. Obviously he won’t be in to it. I think I will be. I know she will be. It’s our fantasy. And now it’s time to turn fantasy into reality. Years ago, I took her anal cherry. It was something special we shared. Now, he and she have had anal too. Unlike most girls, she truly likes it, and even without me she had to have it. She likes feeling full. Taking her ass will still be special. He and I are the only people to do her there. Her last boyfriend was too big. I’ve seen her take big dildos. Other large objects. We explored many possibilities. But apparently he was even bigger. Or so she says. One day, she gets an email from Southwest. Two e-tickets. I bought the pair. For her and her Foy. To Vegas. She tells him she is taking him away for the weekend. He is surprised. But not as surprised as he will be. I will meet them in a bar. He does not know what I look like. She has kept the pictures of me locked away. I will buy them drinks. One for her. Many for him. We will get him drunk. At some point, I will slip a little powder in his red bull and vodka. Half a pill of X, crushed. He will feel great but will still be able to maintain an erection. We need him to be able to stay hard. He hasn’t tried X before. It will blow his mind. He will feel amazing and be happy. He won’t wonder why we are all going back to their room. He won’t notice me still sitting in a chair when she pushes him toward the bed. He will smile as she ties a silk scarf over his eyes. I will watch as she undresses him. As she undresses herself. She will sway her ass in the air as she sucks him to life. And I will lick the folds of her pretty pussy. My expert tongue will find the spot on her clit that drives her crazy. That no one else has found. She will moan around his cock. Then she will slowly kiss her way up his body. I will help guide him into her dripping wet vagina. She will take him inside her, moving almost imperceptibly slow. His groan will be guttural. After a few minutes, she will feel a warm, wet finger on her asshole. I will slowly work it in her. Then I will replace my finger with my hard cock. She will bite her lip against the pain. Until the pleasure takes over. He will be in her. And so will I. Pushing against that wall between her pussy and her ass. Filling her like only the dildos and I have. Maybe the dildos and him too. I don’t know. She didn’t tell me, but I don’t begrudge her any of her actions. I’m sure I’ve told her I’ve done worse. Even if I haven’t. But I will live all my fantasies with her. And she will live hers with me. Soon. ______________________ Now, Foy and I are in her. He is too out of it to know exactly what is happening. She’s calling out my name. Never his. Not tonight. Never again. I know her and she knows me. Better than anyone ever could. Because we’ve been through everything together. Even, now, this. Double penetration. She cums hard. Harder than ever before. She’s looking back at me. Not at him. Then I feel his cock pulsate inside her. I feel his semen rushing through him into her. His throbbing dick makes her ass squeeze my cock even more tightly. What’s happening is unbelievably hot. It makes me cum. She turns toward me and we kiss. I slowly slide out of her. Then she pulls his limp dick out too. It’s the last time he will fuck her. Unless I say it’s OK. Ha. That certainly won’t happen until I get the threesome I want. And when it happens, which it will, I will cum on the other girl. In her face. While my girl looks on, smiling. We will be happy forever. Love Story In White Note: This story should make sense on its own, but it's also an epilogue to my previous story, "Soft as Glass." It's the same characters years later. If blood and branding bother you, you may want to skip this story. *** Jamie lay on the bed, with his eyes closed and his head on Lene's lap. Although the video they'd been watching had finished several minutes previously, they hadn't gotten around to moving. The curtains fluttered in the summer breeze, and lawn mowers droned in neighbours' yards. Lene stroked her husband's soft white hair. It wasn't that long ago that it was salt-and-pepper, but when it grew back in after chemo, not a single strand of black remained. Jamie nuzzled her thigh. "Is it just me, or do movies just keep getting stupider every year?" She chuckled. "It's us getting smarter, I think." "Ah, that explains it. Smarter is good." He opened his eyes and rolled onto his back so it was easier to look up at her face. "And at least one of us is getting more beautiful." Lene smiled, feeling self conscious. "Now one of us is getting sillier." The face that looked back at her from the mirror these days belonged to an old lady. She had a hard time even thinking of it as her own reflection. "I'm not being silly, sweetness. You're lovely. Sure, you've got a few smile lines here and there, but you got them from smiling at me." She was about to protest, but stopped. When she looked at his face, she didn't see some old guy, after all. She saw Jamie, and he looked pretty damn good without those dark circles under his eyes. With his complexion, he looked like he'd been basking naked in the sun, even in the dead of winter. The contrast with his white hair made his skin look even darker than it used to. Lene stroked his cheek with a couple of fingers. If he looked that good to her, why couldn't she look good to him? "Thanks." He kissed her fingers the way he used to do after she slapped him while they made love; his lips lingered on her skin, soft and reverent as he let out a slow warm breath. For a moment, she thought she must be imagining things, but when he looked her in the eyes, the heat in that gaze was unmistakable. "Do you ever think about playing with me?" he asked. Did she? She'd buried those feelings deep when he got sick, and the hospital visits and medications took over everything. Every now and then, though, something would remind her of how much they'd enjoyed it when she tormented him. Just a week ago, for instance, she'd been searching for an old photo album and found half a dozen sterile needles on the top shelf of the closet. Yes, it was fair to say that she thought about it, at least. "Sometimes, but it seemed like maybe you'd had more than enough pain for one lifetime." He pointed the remote control at the T.V., and the screen went black. "From cancer, yes. From you, never." Her vision blurred with happy tears. "It's good to have you back." In the last couple of weeks, Jamie had started to act like his old self again. He'd invited the kids over for dinner, cooked something amazing in the wok, and argued with them for an hour and a half about politics. A day later, she'd found him in the garage giving his bicycle a tune-up. Now another essential piece of Jamie was surfacing. It was more than she'd dared to hope for. "I almost can't believe it..." "Well what did you expect? I didn't fight for my life so that I could lie around not having any fun." He pretended to be offended, but he was smiling too much for it to really work. Lene laughed and a tear rolled down her cheek. "No, I know you better than that." She wiped her face with the sleeve of her sweater. "But I was so worried about you for so long." "Yeah, I was worried about me too. But here we are - just you and me – and I can't help thinking we have better things to do than watch movies." His comment brought her back to considering her own state of mind, and the fact that her libido hadn't stirred much lately, even when she recalled the wonderful sex they used to have. The worry put a damper on her excitement. "I don't know if I can get back in the groove just like that. I guess I need..." She sighed and felt frustrated with herself for not knowing quite what she wanted to ask of him. Did she need time to adjust to the idea that her sex life wasn't over? Cuddles and petting? Verbal seduction? "No pressure. You don't have to be in heat just because I suddenly am." He stretched and rubbed the back of his neck to get the kinks out. His sleeve fell back, revealing a white line on the back of his wrist. The mark wouldn't look like much to a naive observer, and Lene was so used to seeing it that she didn't usually think about it. When she paid attention, though, Jamie's scars told stories of some of their most intense moments together. They'd dragged the heavy wooden chair with arms into the kitchen, and Lene had tied Jamie to it with every bit of rope they had. She turned the front burner on high, and finished off the bondage by duct taping his hands and arms to the arms of the chair to immobilize them completely. It was probably overkill, but better safe than sorry. Jamie kept looking over Lene's shoulder at the stove. Lene dropped the roll of tape and put a hand around Jamie's throat. His pulse surged hard and fast, and her heart's tempo sped up in reply. "Nervous?" Jamie tilted his head up towards her face. "A little," he lied. "A little? Well, in that case, don't worry, because this is only going to hurt a little." Lene leaned over and claimed a kiss before he had a chance to respond to that. She loved the way he got quivery when he knew she was about to do something really painful to him, and she delighted in his soft whimper when she tightened her hand on his throat just enough to remind him that he was at her mercy. She drew the moment out, savouring it until she couldn't stand it anymore. Lene plucked a fancy fondue fork out of the utensil rack – a wedding gift they'd never found a use for until that night. She held the tip against the burner to heat it up. "I bet my Aunt Alma didn't quite have this in mind when she gave us these." "Probably not. Uh, do you think maybe you should gag me?" "No. I'm only going to do this once, and the neighbours won't call the police unless you carry on for a while." She rested her free hand on his shoulder. The tension in his muscles fed her desire. After this, she was definitely going to have to take him to bed and ravish him repeatedly. The tip of the fork eventually glowed red like the burner. Jamie barely breathed. When the handle of the fork started to get noticeably warm, Lene said, "Now you can ask for it, dearest." It took him a few seconds to work up the nerve. "Please-burn-my-wrist." It came out as one word. "With pleasure." Lene touched the metal to his skin. She'd meant to count out the seconds, but the hiss of hot metal against flesh, followed a fraction of a second later by Jamie's unbridled shriek, bumped the numbers out of her brain. He fought against the bonds with all his strength, and suddenly all that rope and tape didn't seem like overkill at all. The violence of his reaction, and the intense pleasure it gave her, seared the moment into her brain as indelibly as it marked his skin. Lene even remembered the shape of the little wisp of steam, forty years later. What she did with the fork after that, she couldn't remember, but she wasn't holding it a minute later when she straddled his lap and held him while he dealt with the relentless pain. He panted, whimpered, and muttered obscenities interspersed with words of love. She petted him and babbled about how much she adored him. "What?" Jamie asked. Lene snapped back to the present. "Did I say something?" "No, but you thought something. Where'd you go?" "Your scar. I was just remembering." Jamie turned his wrist so he could look. "That was rather mischievous, putting it where we'd see it all the time. Do you have any idea how many times I've noticed this mark and thought about how lucky I am to have a wife who enjoyed giving it to me? I loved that your panties were completely soaked when I took them off you afterward." "Were they? I guess we remember different things." Lene undid a couple of buttons of Jamie's shirt. "I know what I need right now. You. Naked. Your skin is wonderfully pornographic." "I'm glad you think so." He lowered his hand to give her access to the rest of the buttons; she'd long ago gotten him into the habit of letting her undress him instead of doing it himself. Lene opened up Jamie's shirt and slid it off of his shoulders. She trailed her fingers down his arm, over four thin diagonal slashes. Those were the first scars she'd ever given him, the night their first daughter, Sylvia, was conceived. Jamie lay on his back under Lene, with his arms flung out at his sides, and she made love to him on a bed of pine needles. Tears leaked out of the corners of his closed eyes, shiny in the silver moonlight. Beautiful. He wasn't really crying, though. It seemed more like his eyes were watering from pain. She'd already put him through more that night than ever before, but there was one more thing she'd promised to do: cut him. Since she didn't have the patience to disinfect only the spots that she planned to cut, she emptied the entire bottle of rubbing alcohol over his arms and her knife. His nostrils flared. Lene placed the blade of the small kitchen knife against his arm. Jamie tensed up, and he clenched his teeth, but he let her cut him. The shallow gash darkened with blood, and his breath came in ragged gasps. He squirmed under her and his hands curled into fists, but he left his arms open wide for the next cut, and the next, and the next. He'd been non-verbal for a while, but as she finished the last cut, he shouted "Yes!" The word was magic; his surrender rolled through her like a shiver, and she came so hard it made her dizzy. It didn't make any sense, but it happened. Lene's fingers explored the texture of the scars left by those cuts – slightly raised and smoother than the surrounding skin – while she bounced the memory around in her mind. She dreamed about that night sometimes, and sometimes it seemed like she could still smell pine and damp earth when she woke up. She drew a deep breath, half expecting to smell it just then, but the only scent in the air was fresh cut grass. "I don't think it's just pornographic. I think it's a love story. That one says I was yours when we were twenty. This one says I was yours when we were thirty." He twisted around to show her the back of his shoulder, where he bore a mark from the time she'd split his skin open with a whip by accident. "I wanted it so bad. I know you don't believe me, but I swear I was hoping you'd draw blood." "I never said I didn't believe you - just that I should have been more careful." Lene didn't feel guilty about it anymore, though. That was a long time ago. She leaned in and rubbed her face against his scarred shoulder, like a cat. The heat from his skin felt good on her cheek. Jamie stroked her arm. "I'm glad you weren't more careful. I love it when you're fierce. You know that. Life is too short to go around being careful all the time." Lene left that remark alone; they'd had this discussion dozens of times, and said all there was to say about it. She worried about hurting him seriously if she didn't hold back a little. He'd say he seriously needed to be hurt. Even when they were arguing, she loved the way he begged for it. And when they weren't arguing, she loved it then, too. How many times had she tied him to the bedposts and had him ask her to do something that he knew would have him struggling with all his strength minutes later? Lene found herself kissing and nipping at Jamie's neck as she thought about it. He nudged her head against his throat. "Mmmm. What about the cut over my heart? We were, what, forty something?" "Something like that," Lene murmured, with her lips touching his skin. "I remember it was about the time all my friends were buying self help books about how to spice up their boring sex lives." That year, the blood on her mad scientist Halloween costume had been real, dripped and smeared all over her lab coat while they went at it like bonobos on ecstasy. She remembered how the hem of the lab coat soaked up the red from his chest when she had her legs flung over his shoulders. His contribution to her costume was still drying when they'd arrived at the party fashionably late. "I want you to give me another mark to celebrate," Jamie said. "How shall we do it this time? Have anything in mind, since you've apparently been thinking about it?" "Yep." He retrieved the syringe driver from the dresser – the device that they'd used to deliver painkillers for a couple of weeks when he had a hard time keeping any food down, and which the home health care company had yet to swing by and pick up. As it turned out, they wouldn't need to collect it, because Jamie smashed it to smithereens against the marble countertop in the bathroom. Crap. Weren't those syringe drivers expensive? Jamie came out holding a jagged scrap of plastic between two bloody fingers. She saw red and forgot about the bill. He handed over the plastic fragment and slipped his fingers into her mouth without having to be asked. She let the taste of copper and salt pool on her tongue for a moment, and she felt like the luckiest woman in the world to be married to this wonderful, passionate man. To have the privilege of writing their love story on his skin in their shared secret language, stroke by stroke, year by year. "I want you to carve our initials into my skin, like people sometimes do with trees and picnic tables and things." Lene tested the edge of the piece of plastic with her finger. "This isn't very sharp." A smile oozed onto his face, slow, sweet, and dark. "Then it'll take a while." Her heart fluttered. Jamie closed the window and came to bed. Love Story Pt. 01 Lauren was told to get there precisely at two o'clock or her bath would get cold, which would be no fun. She arrived with wet panties and a rapid heartbeat five minutes early. Master met her in the bedroom. As was the ritual, he slid his hands into her panties and squeezed her full young ass. "I have wanted to feel your tight ass for weeks. Kiss me, baby." They shared a long, high school like kiss as he kept rubbing her bottom. His hand searched out the wetness of her shaved pussy. She was soaking wet. "It would seem that you have missed me too." "More than you know, Master." He pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees. She smiled at his hard cock. "I know how bad you want to suck my cock, being the fucktoy that you are. Get on it, slut." She grabbed the base of his cock and then lovingly slid her mouth down as far as it would go. Nothing in her world tasted as good as her Master. She felt the wetness of her arousal oozing out onto her pink panties. The velvety hardness of his cock in her mouth was so erotic, so hot. She felt that one day she could cum simply from sucking him. She looked up at him with a mouth full of cock. He smiled and grabbed her brown hair. "Enough for now; your bath will get cold. Get undressed and crawl to the tub." She had been a little taken back when she had first read about crawling in front of a man, at his command, but now it turned her on. And she knew that watching her was a huge turn-on for Master. Once she did it without him asking and it got her fucked on the carpet. She crawled into the warm, bubbly water, excited about him bathing her. She loved being pampered by her Master. Everything he did excited her. "It's so nice to see you naked again. I think we'll order pizza so I can keep you naked until tomorrow when we go to breakfast. Spread you legs for me." The soft sea sponge felt good on her bare pussy. "Now get on your hands and knees. Damn, I love your ass. I love cleaning it, licking it, spanking it, and most of all fucking it." "It loves you back, Master." She moaned as the soapy finger entered her tight little naughty hole. She had become quite the anal slut. Begging for it on her last visit. He pulled his finger out and rubbed the soapy sponge up and down her crack. "There, nice and clean now. Rinse yourself off and then crawl to bed, and I'll let you finish what you started. I need to be serviced first if I'm going to lick you for an hour." "Anything you want, Master. I'm yours completely. For as long as you want me. I love you." "Then that would be forever. And I love you more," he said with a smile. He lay on the iron bed, smiling and thinking how lucky he was to have found the perfect slut. Maybe not perfect, but everything he wanted in a woman. He heard her crawling in. And he had taught her many things. To suck him only one way in bed...so that he had access to her cunt and ass. Almost a sixty-nine but with her legs just to the side. She loved her rules and rituals. She was quite adept at sucking his cock. She had always been a good cock sucker but worked very hard at learning how to make her master cum. She loved his sweet cum, which would at times shoot down her throat. She loved to moan and express how turned on she was when she sucked his cock. She sucked hard, knowing he had saved a full load for her little tummy to enjoy. She felt a hand strum lightly across her pussy, making her squirm. Then a hard slap on her ass. "That's it, slut — just like that and I'll cum. Don't you dare stop. I'm almost there. Oh yes, I'm going to cum. Take it all! Oh fuck, yes, that's so good!" She had a hard time keeping up with his cum from those big balls, but she did. She stayed on his cock. She was not allowed to come off it without permission, nor would she want to. "That's enough, baby. Just cuddle with me for a bit. Give me a kiss so I can taste my sweet cum too." She fell asleep in his strong arms for what felt like forever but really was only about twenty minutes. She awoke when Master left the bed to browse though his toy bag. He came back with the four latigo leather restraints. He gently tightened them around her wrists and ankles. He attached them to the ropes already tied to the iron bed, spreading her wide on the bed. He took two pillows and slid them under her ass, raising her hips off the bed. He wrapped a black scarf around her eyes. "In a minute I'm going to put earplugs in your ears so I won't be talking to you. All I want to do is eat my pussy for my pleasure. I don't care if you cum once or twenty times. Don't worry about asking permission either. I see you are already soaked, but I'm going to take my time getting there just to make your clit ache more than it is already. I said an hour, but if I need release in your tight cunt I'll take it. I like the blend of our juices anyway. So I might suck out creamball and share some with you. Any questions?" "May I have the big plug in my ass, Master? I want your cock there so badly." "No, not right now. I will take care of that sweet ass later. You will get a finger there, though. Maybe two or three, since you are such the anal slut now. Now kiss me and tell me you love me." "I love you, Master." He rolled the earplugs and stuck them in her ears, letting them expand. Now she couldn't see and couldn't hear very well at all. But other senses would be heightened. She felt the bed sink as he squatted over her, pulling her head up to suck his hard cock once more. He was more than turned on and wanted to fuck her. But still he wanted to give her a good licking first. He pulled out and she smiled. She was always ready for his cock in her mouth. It truly made her happy. She sighed as he sucked her right nipple. No one she had ever met was as good as he was at nipple play. He had an intuitive nature and just seemed to know what a woman would like. Of course, different women want different things, but he just seemed to know. He was amazing. Her little clit was pounding away and her juices were overflowing to the sheets below. He moved to the other nipple. Had she had use of her hands she would have grabbed his head and forced it to her aching cunt. She was so intensely aroused...aroused and helpless. "Please!" she cried out. He put a bit gag in her mouth to shut her up. She cried into the bit when she felt cold lube on her anus. His tongue traced up both pussy lips then lapped at her well of juice. She felt the skin around her clit being pulled up and away, exposing her pink throbbing clitoris. It would just take a few licks and she would cum. They both knew that. His tongue touched her clit right as his finger slid deep in her tight, anxious ass. She struggled against the ropes, cumming hard and being as loud as the bit would allow. He licked at her opening while she came, knowing her clit was too sensitive. He could tell when it was over by the contractions in her ass ceasing. He put on a medical glove and lubed up two fingers. Eased them into her ass. He started licking her clit again while his other hand pinched her nipple. He pinched it harder than usual, making her once again strain against the ropes. One orgasm only gets her started. She came harder the second time, gushing onto the sheets. He glanced at the clock. Only seven minutes had passed. She came four more times in the next twenty-three minutes. He had worked up to three fingers in her ass, opening her fully. He untied her and pulled out her earplugs. "Turn over, slut. I'm going to fuck your tight ass until I cum. You better squeeze my cock while I fuck it or I swear to God you'll regret not doing it." He rubbed the mushroom head of his cock on her little rosebud. Then slowly but firmly he filled her tight cavity. "Reach back and touch your clit. Cum on my cock before I start to fuck you." His thick cock hurt a little bit, but the more she rubbed the better it felt. She soon came, screaming as hard as the bit would allow. He loved how hard her ass squeezed his cock when she came like that. Nothing else in the sexual world compares to it. He started stroking her tight little gifted ass. "Touch it again, slut. I'm close to cumming myself. Your ass is just too good. We can cum together." She was now panting into the bit. He knew she'd cum on command. Just a little more fucking. He was so close. "Cum for me, slut." He screamed as he came. She screamed as much as the bit would let her. She gushed all over his balls. Neither one had cum that hard before. It was insanely good...it was magical. "I'm just going to lie here for a minute. When I pull out, crawl to the bathroom and clean your cock and balls." He watched her cute sexy ass roll its way to the bathroom. She got on her knees under the warm water and lathered up his cock and balls. Her little hands felt so good he hardened instantly. He felt a soapy finger twirl in his asshole. "Cleaning my asshole.... Does that mean you want to lick it later while you rub my cock with lube?" "Oh yes, Master! You cum so hard that way. And your ass is so fucking hot, what girl wouldn't want to lick it?" She took the shower massage and rinsed all the soap away. His hand tangled in her wet hair and pulled her to his cock. She deep throated it. "Where was that cock a few minutes ago? Spit it out and tell me." "In my tight, hot ass Master, where it belongs." "Would a nice girl be sucking on it now?" "No, I'm your naughty slut." "Yes, you are. It's time for some spanking and flogging play now." To be continued. A never ending story of love.