0 comments/ 10284 views/ 0 favorites On the Veranda By: splithooves Diana frequently strolled along the veranda, although it was a very strange place. The air was always soft, the breeze always pleasant. People ostensibly went there for an outing and to watch the gulls, or to peer out toward the sea that rolled and crashed beyond the wide sandy beach. But Diana knew the real reason that everyone visited the veranda: to be consumed. In the daytime she would go and smile at the ladies in their long dresses and wide summer hats. The gentlemen would nod and tip their own hats, and Diana would nod back. And since she had peculiar insight into such matters, Diana always knew which of these people she would meet later on the veranda, when the moon was full and the high stone columns awash in ghostly light. One midnight she rendezvoused with the tall man who sported a Mephistophelean goatee, wore a silk top hat and carried a cane. While she braced herself against a column, he lifted her dress from behind and stroked the backs of her thighs. Pressing fully clothed against her arse from behind, he slipped the cane over her head and pulled back against her throat. Gagging, Diana grabbed both his gnarled hands and tugged to relieve the pressure. He continued humping her as they grappled against the column. When Diana pried one of his hands from the cane, he clutched at her throat, discovering the fine mesh chain she wore, the small golden cross from her girlhood. The man ceased to hump and choke her. They both stood panting. Diana was angry and afraid but wanted completion. She saw her cross in the moonlight, so small and delicate in the palm of the man's ghostly – some would say ghastly – hand. She felt his cold stare over her shoulder at her talisman. "It's a childhood gift," she said. "To remind me that I am responsible for my actions but not in control. Not in control at all." Groaning as if in anguish, the man knelt and penetrated her rectum repeatedly with his tongue, pausing occasionally to nip at the flesh of her buttocks with sharp teeth, all the while slowly working the tip of his polished cane into her wet vagina. When the cane had invaded her as far as she could take it, the man arose and pumped her madly, almost brutally with the mahogany phallus, while she fingered herself in a gasping frenzy. When Diana began to moan as she neared orgasm, the man quit pumping, whimpering strangely as he withdrew the cane and walked abruptly away. Diana's building orgasm evaporated and vanished without claiming her. The next day the man saluted her with the selfsame cane he had used to penetrate her, but a fearful hatred smoldered in his eyes, and he never looked at her again. On another evening Diana met a married couple who had smiled and wetted their lips at her that afternoon. They arranged Diana on one of the red chairs of the veranda, the skirt of her dress around her hips, the bodice dropped around her waist. The wife knelt and kissed and licked Diana's private parts while the husband stood behind the chair and played with Diana's breasts. This continued briefly until the husband walked to Diana's side, his penis thrusting erect from his trousers. He made Diana suck him until he was almost ready to burst, then he rushed behind his wife, lifted her dress and plunged into her with a shout of release, his wife sobbing all the while against Diana's nether lips. Without a word the husband motioned for Diana to slide out from the chair and join him behind his wife. He withdrew his long penis from his wife's sex and stepping to one side spread her swollen lips wide with two fingers. He held his other hand out, palm up, as if holding a door for a lady. Graciously, Diana knelt behind the wife and licked between the husband's fingers. The wife sighed and rested her breasts against the seat of the chair where Diana had been sitting. Diana licked the husband's ejaculate from his wife's dilated hole, tasting the salty vinegary mix of man and woman. Then, at the husband's insistence, she sucked his member clean too. After they had all stood up and straightened their clothes, the husband and wife both kissed Diana tenderly on the cheek. Despite all the pleasure they had shared, Diana had still not attained her own release. "I do hope we can meet here again tomorrow," she called as their silent forms glided away arm in arm. But late the next morning, as they passed Diana on the veranda, the couple nodded as if to a stranger. Their smiles were polite but firmly distant. When Diana returned to the veranda that night at the same time as their previous meeting, there was no waiting to meet her. Another time, in broad daylight, Diana joined a man with a spyglass on a tall stepladder. They shared the glass, watching a woman in a white dress fellate a man in a brown suit and bowler hat. Soon three more women arrived, one wearing peach, one wearing charcoal, one in brown. They all took turns fellating the man. Diana, who was at the top of the ladder, felt dizzy and flushed. The man below her reached up beneath her dress and thrust his finger into her vagina, his thumb into her anus. While Diana observed the fellatrices below, the man on the ladder stroked her membranes with a slow, mesmerizing insistence until the man in the bowler hat emptied his semen into the mouth of the woman in white. But once again, even though she was incredibly excited, Diana failed to achieve her own release. By nightfall the man with the ladder was gone from the veranda; the man in the bowler hat and the four fellatrices avoided each other carefully, none of them acknowledging Diana's presence, except for an occasional furtive glance. Then, early one bright morning, Diana noticed a man she hadn't seen before. He stood just outside the veranda, his back against one of the columns, his gaze directed calmly toward the sea. Diana stood near the man, also staring at the water. Gulls screeched aloft. The air felt exceptionally fresh. For once there was no one else around. They stood practically side by side, watching the surf sparkle and roll. Suddenly Diana realized the man had turned and was looking at her. She turned and stared at him. Something tugged at her, throbbed deep in her womanhood. The man looked old but young, young but old. He looked strong yet gentle. Humor crinkled at the edges of the saddest eyes she had ever seen. He nodded as if in recognition. She felt her cunt juices flow. The man's eyes asked a question. Wordlessly, Diana removed her dress, her shoes, her underthings, everything except the small golden cross at her throat. At a glance from the man she leaned back against one of the columns. The column felt warm in the sunlight, but the breeze that stiffened her nipples was cool as the hint of death. Diana felt both frightened and filled with a deep, deep yearning. Fully clothed, the man knelt before her and kissed her. He kissed and licked her gently, tenderly, insistently. His hands stroked her thighs while his lips ministered to her center. When she had become so swollen she thought she would burst, the man arose in front of her and unbuttoned his trousers. The rod he pulled out was thick and purple. She started to reach for it but he shook his head. Guiding her by the shoulder, the man had her step forward from the column so he could slip behind her and lean back against the warm stone. Then he pulled her back against him so his stiff member rested between the cheeks of her arse. Diana moaned as the man reached around and turned her face so their lips could meet over her shoulder. His hand slid down to massage her nipples. His other hand slid around her waist and insinuated itself between her legs. He rubbed her. He rubbed her wet blossoming pussy. Her clitoris grew and throbbed as surely as the swollen cock rubbing itself along the cheeks of her bottom. Suddenly everything rushed through and out of her mind at once: the beach, the sea, the crying gulls, the columns, the very veranda itself. She cried a high lilting song as her pussy spasmed and gushed around the man's fingers. Simultaneously she felt him spurting up along the rim of her arse, his warmth gobbing along the small of her back and across her cheeks. She pushed back to enhance his pleasure while her orgasm seemed to keep lifting and carrying her farther out to sea. And then she was back with her lover, standing in the sunlight along the edge of the veranda. He had turned her around and held her naked against him. She felt his tumescence against her belly. He had partially softened and now was hardening again. She moaned with joy as he kissed her mouth, his hands behind rubbing his cum into her flesh. He kissed her tenderly on the forehead and pulled her closer against his clothes and his unsheathed prick. "I've seen you here often," he murmured into her ear. "I've been watching you. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" Diana arched back, the better to see his face, and widened her pleasure-slitted eyes. Her nipples fretted against his shirt. She gazed at him in wonder. It was the first time anyone had spoken to her. On the Veranda There had been people around all day, so they could do nothing but share hungry looks, quick kisses, and suggestive little touches with one another. For a long time it had seemed as though the steady stream of well-wishers stopping by with gifts and congratulations would never end. Bo and Milly offered the requisite thank you's and yearned for the first day in their new bungalow to end, so that the first night there could begin—alone! Finally, shortly after sunset, the couple watched their last visitors' tail lights recede down the long, winding driveway that connected their beach house with the highway. Their sighs of relief were audible as they embraced one another and shared a long, luxurious kiss. When they broke apart, Bo whispered, "Meet me on the veranda?" "Give me just a couple of minutes to change, and I'll be there," Milly said. Bo smiled as he released her and gave her a wink as she turned to walk to the bedroom. He had read the twinkle in her eyes and decided on making a few alterations in his attire as well. In less than two minutes, Bo was on the veranda, hiding in the darkest corner where the moonlight couldn't reach. He stood, still and silent, watching as Milly stepped out onto the veranda and walked to the railing to look out over the ocean. The bright, silvery light of the full moon bathed her and made the silken fabric of her short, white nightie almost glow. She rested her elbows on the railing in front of her and leaned forward just enough to accent the lovely curve of her bottom, and make her nightie ride up just high enough to display a peek at her lily white panties. She knew Bo was looking. Not because she'd seen him, but because she knew Bo and his tricks. She smiled to herself as she thought about the effect she knew she was having on him at that moment. A slight shiver ran up her spine and butterflies took flight in her stomach when she heard the creaking of floorboards as Bo approached. Bo's wardrobe plan had been to go with none at all and the view Milly was providing had had its effect. His swollen member stood straight out in front of him as he crept as quietly as possible up behind Milly. "Can you help me hide this?" he asked as he slipped his rigid pole between her legs and up against the softness of her panties. "Hmm, I think I can provide you with some assistance sir," Milly said, "but you will have to sweet talk me and treat me like a lady." "Like a lady indeed, my pretty little slut," Bo said, as he reached his arms around her to cup her breasts and begin squeezing her nipples while he brought his lips to bear on the back of her neck. He began to slide his hot, hard cock back and forth against her crotch and planted warm, wet kisses on the sides and back of her neck. Tiny little electric shocks raced from Milly's nipples to her pussy as Bo began to squeeze and twirl and tug with his fingers. Bo's breathing quickened and he could feel Milly's panties growing moist against his now throbbing cock. Milly began to purr softly as her passion rose to a need to be free of her panties and to feel Bo's stiff prick impale her. As though he had read her mind, Bo suddenly stopped sliding himself back and forth between Milly's legs and turned her to face him. He wrapped her in his arms and lowered his mouth to hers. His hot, hard prick pressed against her belly and their tongues danced in her mouth—promising things that were soon to be. Bo's fingers slipped under the waistband of Milly's flimsy panties and began to slide them down over her hips. At the same time, he began to walk her backwards toward the chaise lounge. "Sit," Bo said, when her legs came in contact with the lounge, and as she complied, he deftly pulled her panties down and off, tossing them aside. Beginning at her toes, he kissed and licked his way up her leg. Slowly, giving every glorious inch of her flesh his homage. He could hear her breathing quicken and feel the stirring in her body as his lips and tongue slid up her inner thigh. She began to gently writhe beneath his touch. Finally, with her legs spread wide and her sweet pussy open to him, he moved his face so close to her crotch that she could feel his breath on her pussy lips. Lightly, with his finger tip he traced the lovely outlines of those delicious lips, gently stroking them as his finger passed over. He felt mesmerized by the beauty of her, and the scent of her womanhood drove his passion higher. He spread her precious slit with his fingers and saw her wetness glistening in the moonlight. As he pressed his face into her crotch and began to lick, she thrust her hips into him and cried out with pleasure. First one finger, and then another slid slowly up her warm, tight ass as his tongue began to twirl on her clit. Her juices flowed freely and wet his cheeks. He licked faster and began to fuck his fingers in and out of her ass as waves of orgasmic pleasure swept through her body. When her orgasm subsided, he pulled at her hips gently and made her turn away from him, to kneel on the lounge. Her ass looked so beautiful and her now soaking wet cunt was wide open to his hardness. Holding his prick in his fist he guided it into her love canal and began to pump in and out of her sweet, wet pussy. He started to lurch back and forth, pounding himself into her with a violence that made a loud slapping sound as his hips thrust against her soft ass and his cock drove deep inside her. "Oh fuck," he cried, as his dick exploded and shot his man-cream, which started another orgasm for her. Thrusting, crying out, they fucked in a frenzy of lust until all their juices had been used up for the moment and she returned to his arms for a long, soft, mellow kiss. They fell asleep on the lounge. In the morning, he awakened to the most heavenly of sensations and opened his eyes to find her kneeling over him, his prick sliding in and out of her lovely mouth as she bobbed her head up and down. He could tell right away it was going to be a wonderful day!