0 comments/ 28703 views/ 1 favorites Miss North Carolina Ch. 01 By: velvet hammer Enjoying the company of Miss North Carolina was a singularly unique and pleasant part of my life, let me tell you. Let's call her Suzanne. How we met and hit it off was as unexpected as anything in the brief, whirlwind affair that was the Miss North Carolina experience. It started at the bar in a Fayetteville nightclub, and I was reciting poetry to her. Reciting poetry. I wasn't drunk, either. I'm telling you; she was that beautiful. So knock-down, drag-out beautiful that she inspired me to actually recite fucking poetry, for crying out loud. When Suzanne had to make a pit stop in the ladies room another woman came up to me and asked if I was with that incredibly beautiful creature, and that if I was I needed to take her home right away and fuck her brains out, because she was in the ladies room telling her girlfriend, "Omigawd! Omigawd! He's so beautiful! He's so wonderful! He's so fantastic! I WANT HIM TO TAKE ME AND RIP MY CLOTHES OFF AND LET HIM HAVE HIS WAY WITH ME IN EVERY WAY IMAGINABLE!" I meditated on this information and concluded that it meant I was obviously making a good impression on the young lady. But I digress... First of all, let me say again for the ten millionth time, Suzanne was BEAUTIFUL. I mean, we're talking a national-level beauty queen here, right? Silky smooth blonde hair like spun gold, the clearest complexion like a china doll, her sweet, sweet smile revealed a line of straight teeth that shined like a line of pearls, and eyes of the clearest cornflower blue. Her sleeveless minidress displayed a perfect pair of shoulders that looked like they were molded by Michelangelo out of Plaster of Paris, that in turn curved toward her perfectly proportioned breasts. I don't know her bra size; all of her was so beautiful I didn't have to work to keep my eyes off of her tits. I was even fascinated by the curved line of her jaw, her delicate neck. Of course her waist was narrow, her belly flat and hard and her legs a study of rounded thighs, perfectly shaped calves and narrow ankles. And from what I could see of her ass, perched upon that barstool; ah, what an ass! The girl was beautiful enough to make a guy cum in his shorts with just a smile. I'm telling you, Suzanne even had the women in the place drooling after her. When Suzanne opened her mouth and started to talk she had the most beautiful voice, as clear as a bell with the sexiest Southern accent and all the cute little sayings and nuances that those Southern girls come off with. Sayings like, "Wah, you tahk moah shit than a gol tooth allagatah." Why, you talk more shit than a gold-toothed alligator. English translation: you're witty and well-spoken." She was as perfect as a rose and as fresh as a spring morning in the mountains, but what really made Suzanne's beauty so utterly remarkable was the study of contrasts her personality offered. My first glimpse into the darker side of Suzanne's persona was right after we got to her place. We were having a glass of wine, a sort of an icebreaker, she was smiling at me that super sexy perfectly beautiful smile of hers over her glass, when she asked, "You know how-a get a dawg a-stop humping yo-ah leg?" "I dunno, how?" I asked. It seemed like a weird enough opener, but nothing compared to the answer. "Wah, you pick him up and suck his dick!" We both laughed. Little did I know at that moment that Suzanne was laying a big-time hint on me as to her fondness for delivering a certain technique to which I happen to be very partial. But I digress... After the nightclub I took her for a spin in my car. I had a Ford Explorer in those days, the two-door sport model, back when the whole SUV concept was still new and unique. It was very plush and comfortable and as we enjoyed the bright neon lights whizzing past Suzanne leaned towards me and casually placed her hand on my forearm. I took her to a popular Thai bar/restaurant that featured karaoke and dancing. My intent was double-edged; I wanted to show Suzanne another side of Fayetteville - the Asian sub-culture that I was a charter member of, and I also wanted to show this magnificent creature off to my Oriental friends. When we got back in the car Suzanne said, "I want to show you mah place." Suzanne had this neat condo down in the old, traditional part of town, the part of town the city council was trying to renovate. The place was two stories up above an old corner store that had been turned into an art gallery. It was wedge-shaped, with high ceilings and huge windows overlooking the gaslights and the cobblestones of the street that had been turned into a pedestrian mall. From the moment we went left the nightclub there was this weird dichotomy going on, a sort of denial; like, we're only just friends, we're only having a late night visit to her place. The whole "I-never-fuck-on-the-first-date" thing. I went along with this charade because I really didn't think for a minute that I was going into this woman's apartment at one in the morning and not leaving without a shot of leg. Her enthusiastic tour of the place led us to her bedroom. It was dark, the only light coming in was from the gaslights down in the street; her bed was the size of an aircraft carrier. As we stood side by side looking at it I decided now was a good time to take Suzanne in my arms and start undressing her. I had the hem of her minidress up and my hand down to her panties in no time flat; Suzanne unbuttoned my shirt as I gently massaged her asscheeks. She pulled my shirt back and off my shoulders, then undid my trousers and let them fall to the floor. We stood there kissing for a little while because it was pleasant to take our time. She softly stroked my rod as I gently caressed her sweet, tight ass. When we finally got into bed Suzanne wanted to play Little-Miss-Goody-Two-Shoes all over again. You know, still with the I'm-not-the-kind-of-girl-who-fucks-on-the-first-date routine. At this stage in the game I figured this HAD to some kind of an act, some kind of last ditch effort to convince me that she really was a good girl, not some kind of slut that hops into bed with a guy at the earliest opportunity, that she was only going this far with me because I was someone special. Never mind the fact that we were in bed and practically naked; in the weird logic that runs through women's minds that was beside the point, right? I decided to go along with it; I'd encountered this kind of denial before. The girl needed some kind of pretext to get started, is all. Some kind of excuse to abandon herself to the passion of the moment and let herself go. I decided to focus on Suzanne's lips, which were full and soft and looked like they'd been sculpted by an Italian Renaissance master. I gently kissed her, the softest open-mouthed kiss. We let our tongues play little love games while our hands traveled over each other's bodies, barely touching each other in a tantalizing sort of way. As it later turned out this was a good starting move. I gently moved my hand twice over her entire length, softly tickling, teasing and tantalizing Suzanne's body. I finally placed my hand on her panties, on her mon du Venus, and found silky smoothness; under her dainty white panties she was perfectly hairless, as bald as the proverbial billiard ball. I traced my fingers along the start of her cleft. Suzanne legs were clamped tight together; a few strokes up and down her pussy mound opened them, however, allowing me to stroke her pussylips through her panties. I teased her, cupped her sex in the palm of my hand, then moved my palm upwards so that I could lay a finger along the length of her seam. I made no attempt to slip my fingers into her panties, to penetrate. I simply felt her heat and continued to tease her. Then I took her hand and placed it on my now erect penis. "Play with my cock," I whispered, saying the forbidden word. Our kisses became deeper and more meaningful as Suzanne gently tugged on my cock, while I continued to rub her wet pussy right through her panties. After awhile I lifted her hand off my tool and placed it on right on her sopping wet panties. "Play with yourself for me," I whispered. Suzanne slipped her hand into her panties and started moving her middle finger over her clit in circular motions. Despite her earlier coyness, once she got going there was nothing shy about blonde Suzanne; in seconds flat she was writhing around on her back, masturbating furiously. I moved my head down and started sucking on Suzanne's nipples, and discreetly moved my hand under the crotch of her panties to stroke her wet pussylips, while right above my hand her fingers continued to diddle her clit. I slipped a couple of fingers into her and in seconds flat she moaning, arching her back and squirting clam juice all over my hand. "Oh! Oh! OOOHHHHHHHHH!" she cried. I felt the inner muscles of her cunt tighten like a band of iron about my two fingers as she peaked. When her moment finally passed I withdrew my fingers, removed my hand from under her panties. I moved my hand back on top of her panty-clad pussy to cup and hold her hot, throbbing box while Suzanne threw her arms about my neck and cried tears of sheer joy onto my chest. When she regained some semblance of control she moved up and softly kissed me. "Thank you. I needed that." We embraced for awhile, then lay back, side by side in the dark. Suzanne pulled her wet panties off and tossed them aside, and now we were totally naked, together in bed, side by side. We had a sort of a conversation as she told me how hard her job was, the long hours, attending meetings and looking after a myriad of details, and how she never gets a chance to be alone, how she never gets to meet a guy and have a private life. At this point we were not yet lovers. That is, not completely. We still had yet to fully consummate our love. "How about you?" she asked. I told her about my work, how I love what I do, the challenges my work presents and the adventures I experience, and ultimately how I liked keeping my life simple. Then Suzanne told me about two abusive relationships she'd been through, one several years ago with a live-in boyfriend, another more recently with a married guy she'd hooked up with who was total slime. As she continued, it turned out the guy was her agent, during her year as Miss North Carolina. Suzanne started telling me about the nature of the abuse. "He never hit me, he didn't want to leave any kind of mark on me. He was totally dedicated to marketing me, to my image as a professional beauty queen. Instead he humiliated me, verbally. And there was... ...more..." Before I could catch myself I asked, "More?" "Psychological torture..." Suzanne whispered furtively. Things were complicated, she told me. It continued after she'd completed her reign as a beauty queen. She was finally able to get away from him, after a couple of years of his abuse. She was only now getting past the recovery stage of this event. The conversation was at a difficult point, especially when I considered the fact that I'd just had her masturbate for me, a sort of a mild kinkiness. I decided the best way to get us past this sticky subject was to kiss her. At this point I still hadn't gotten my rocks off and I was really ready and raring to go, but there was still this strange "never-fuck-on-the-first-date" dichotomy going down. I wanted to show Suzanne my very real physical need, so I took her hand off my shoulder and moved it down, placed it on my rock solid cock. Suzanne gasped, looked down in the semi-darkness at the hot, hard cock she held in her hand. Her soft fingers felt so good on my raging hard-on. At this stage my balls were in such a state of turmoil I would have settled for a handjob. Then Suzanne said, "Why don't you come over here and lay on top of me?" I moved on top of her, held my arms around her and we kissed. Suzanne's legs were apart and the blunt end of my cock was poking right on her wet pussylips. I moved my hips, pulled my cock up and away from there so that it lay flat between our bellies, and began moving my hips up and down to rub her swollen clitoris with the underside of my hard cock. This had the predictable effect; Suzanne began writhing and moaning and her pussy started dripping all over again. I could feel her love juices all over my cock and balls as I rubbed my shaft up and down her groove. "Do you have something to put on?" she whispered. "Yeah," I grunted. I reached down to where my trousers lay on the floor and retrieved a condom. "Here," I said, handing her the packet. I leaned back to display my fully erect penis. "Put it on for me." Suzanne seemed to like this latest twist. She studied the little packet for a moment then used her teeth to rip it open. The inconvenience of having to use a condom was almost made up for by the feeling of her dainty fingertips rolling it over the head of my rock-solid cock and down the length of my shaft. I could tell she was trembling with anticipation; her pussy was practically dripping. I got on my knees between Suzanne's legs and began rubbing the head of my rubber-ensheathed cock up and down her wet slit, to get some lubrication on it. Her labia parted automatically and I slid the head of my cock in. She was wet enough that my entire length slid in easily. Suzanne put her arms about my neck. We gently kissed, long and slow, as we became lovers. Beyond the physical joy and pleasure of our lovemaking there was a more complete sensation to it all, a special kind of sharing, an element of complete trust that was beautiful to be a part of. I'm happy to say the relationship progressed beyond a simple one-night stand. Miss North Carolina Ch. 01 "For some reason, God only knows why, I put up with it for over a year, even after my time as Miss North Carolina was over." "If you didn't like it, then why didn't you just leave?" I asked. "Later, in counseling, I learned that I was an enabler, that I let him do the things he did, that what happened was as much my doing as it was him." "I'm not sure if I understand," I said. This would take some time to grasp. "To tell you the truth, I could handle it." "You could?" I asked, incredulous. "I was an enabler," she shrugged. "He couldn't have done it to me if I wasn't willing to let him. In a weird sort of a way, I was totally into it." "Being paraded around naked, on a leash?" I asked. "Oh, that wasn't so bad. It was humiliating, but nothing I couldn't handle. I was a sexual adventurer. I could handle the blowjobs, the ass fuckings..." Whoa. "It was when he got me eating dogfood out of a bowl on the floor, and started making me drink water out of the toilet bowl that the whole thing started to scare me." Double whoa.