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The Opera

By: Suzann



I have to admit my curiosity was piqued. The messenger had arrived at my office with the hand written invitation and a single ticket to the opera. I've never been overly fond of sitting through the grandeur of an opera, but Puccini's Tosca is a personal favorite. How she had known that…well, that was something to ask her when I arrived. I had to smile at the fact that she seemed to have done some research and admittedly, I had done the same.

After the dinner party where we met it didn't take me long to find out which firm she worked with. A lengthy luncheon and drinks with the right people and I had the readers digest version of her life as they knew it. It was comforting to know I had crossed her mind too, and that she was curious enough to investigate my operatic preference.

Pulling up in front of the theatre I let the valet take my car, slipping the ticket into my breast pocket. Another smile as I realized she had managed to find a reason for me to wear my tux. Shaking my head I moved inside and was directed to a private box along the exclusive balcony row. Impressed again, I paused outside the door a moment then moved beyond and inside.

My breath caught and I had to mentally focus to keep my mouth from hanging open. She was a vision. Oh, yes she had outdone herself. She sat near the balcony wall; one gloved arm lay across its surface. As she turned to look at me and smiled, I noticed the color of her gown was an exact match for her sultry grey eyes. I caught myself wondering about the length of her hair. The first time we met she had worn it swept up of that graceful neck as it was now. All I knew was its honey blonde color, and that it must be curly, for the wisps that escaped the twist that held it at the back of her head spiraled at her temple and along the curve of her neck.

I felt my mouth go dry as I looked at her. The style of the dress left her shoulders bare and hugged her breasts, emphasizing every curve of her petite form. How such a simple little frock could make a mans blood run was beyond me, though when she stood and I caught the flash of skin from a daring slit to mid thigh, I had a pretty good idea it was not the dress but what was beneath that held such attractive prospects. Suddenly I knew for fact that women are much more clever than the male of the species. It seemed every detail was geared to make all the blood rush from my brain to throb tightly within my trousers. Once we are befuddled we are at their mercy. 

Crossing to her I drew her close pressing a soft kiss to her temple, shifting to speak close to her ear. "What a very pleasant surprise. Thank you for inviting me."

I felt her shiver and took comfort in the knowledge that I was not the only one affected by the whole situation. She laughed softly and lifted those smoky, grey eyes to mine.

"I told you I would make sure you saw me again."

Grinning slightly I lifted my brows. "I did try to call you. You are a very busy woman. It was clever of you to make me wait and wonder."

"Mmnhmm well I thought perhaps it was time the shoe was on the other foot. I'm sure you've left many a woman to wait impatiently for the phone to ring."

Reaching up I caressed her face, letting my thumb linger along her cheekbone, lowering my voice, my own words surprising me. "I will never make you wait."

It had to be her scent.

She smelled like sex, and honey. Earthy, almost spiced but with an underlying scent I couldn't quite identify. Whatever it was I wanted to taste it on her skin. We stood there for a few minutes, unaware of the throng of people around us or the din of the crowd. Slowly she drew back and gave me that sensuous smile. The lights flashed as signal that things were about to begin. Something in her eyes told me I was in for more than I had bargained for.

Taking our seats we turned to watch the stage. Tosca is an ill-fated love story, in truth that's probably the reason I like it. The music is passionate and the characters interesting enough to keep even my attention, usually. I found my eyes drifting to her, as though I could not get enough of the sight. The memory of her legs wrapped around my hips in that butler’s pantry filled my mind. The way the slinky black dress she wore had clung in all the right places, and how easily it had lifted beneath my hands to allow me all the pleasures of her body. 

I shifted in my chair, closing my eyes against the memory. My body stirred again and I nearly groaned at the thought that it would be a long night unless I could have her again. Determined to do this right and not push her I turned my attention back to the stage, but all too soon I found I was watching her again. How her throat moved when she swallowed, the way the corners of her mouth lifted when she was amused, the soft rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed. She turned her head, giving me a sidelong glance then laughed, leaning close to whisper near my ear. 

"If you continue to stare at me I will just have to give you something to watch."

Puzzled I arched a brow and gave her a grin. "Just what did you have in mind?"

Her smile was enticing, eyes brimming with mischief as she drew off one of her gloves. The sound of material against skin made my hands itch to touch her dress, but I remained where I was, watching, wondering what she intended. Slowly her gloved hand moved over the back of her neck and down over the side of her throat. Its surface giving off a soft whisper that seemed to echo in my mind, drowning out the music. Fingers encased in the material moved over the swell of her breasts, teasing down beneath the front to toy with a nipple that grew taut even as I watched. Oddly I knew how it felt. It seemed my whole body screamed "foul" from beneath the confines of my tuxedo. Swelling and throbbing as the pulse of my blood rang in my head. She wouldn't...

I watched as her bare hand moved down over her body, taunting me as it paused here or there to caress then disappeared beneath the slit in her skirt. Gritting my teeth I looked up to meet her eyes, an unspoken warning in them going unheeded as I watched her face express the pleasure her hand played between her legs, hidden from my sight. She gave a soft moan, head falling back as her hand moved faster beneath her skirt, lips parting with a low guttural moan that I echoed as my hands fisted against the arm rests of my chair.

For a moment I thought she was going to stop and have a good laugh at my expense, obviously doing this to excite me, tease me. Then she shuddered, panting then moaning as she bit her lower lip. Her skin flushed and when she looked at me I saw the same expression in her eyes that had haunted my every waking moment since last we met. She gave me a seductive smile and drew her hand from her skirt lifting it to her mouth to suckle her taste from her fingers. Unable to stand anymore I lunged forward to catch her wrist as she drew her hand back, locking eyes with her, my words ground out past clenched teeth. "No more games."

She looked surprised then smiled triumph as the lights rose and intermission was called. Once again we were too much in the public eye and I was forced to ease back. Trying to make my voice sound casual I cleared my throat. 

"Alright, you win that one. I need a drink. Would you like something?"

Her eyes took a slow lingering perusal of my body then back up to meet my smoldering gaze. Her smile was wicked, as she shook her head no. I was flooded with relief. I had to get away from her for a few minutes. Leaning to brush my mouth to hers I ended up delving deeper, tongue searching out her taste along her tongue before I forced myself to stand. Despite my efforts I heard the strain in my voice as I told her I would be right back. Moving quickly out into the crowd I felt the crush of those around me and fought my way to the bar. Downing two shots of scotch I knew I was lost when the flavor and scent only reminded me of her. All right, playtime is over. She wants to tease me she will see the results of her efforts. 

Determination driving my steps, I went back upstairs, pausing at the door that would lead to our private box. Nothing had eased. My body still thrummed with the desire to rip that beautiful dress from her body and take her bent over the railing for all to watch. Closing my eyes I tried to calm myself, then stepped inside. The vision only intensified as she stood there, hands braced at her sides along that very rail, looking down over the crowd. Slowly I moved up behind her, my arm snaking around her waist as I pressed the length of my body to hers. She fit so well against me. I rubbed the bulge of my cock against the sweet curve of her ass to show her just what kind of effect she'd had. I felt her stomach muscles tense beneath my hand as pressed my lips to her ear. 

"I hope you don't mind public displays, because unless you want me to lift your skirt and take you from behind, here and now, we had better take our seats."

She turned her head and I tilted mine so her mouth was near my ear, expecting a reply. What I got instead was a jolt of lightening from the soft warm caress of her tongue along the curve of my ear that went straight to my groin. I felt my cock surge and swell as I groaned closing my eyes. Desperate now I looked around and drew her back and away from the open front of the balcony. Reaching out I untied one of the decorative curtains on the sidewall letting it fall enough to shadow us from the prying eyes of the audience. Jerking one of the chairs back toward us I bent her over its cushioned back lifting her skirt as I nudged her feet wider apart. I heard her laugh as though she didn't believe I would continue then gasp as I tore the lacy excuse for panties that covered her sex, tossing them aside. Undoing my slacks I freed my anxious cock and rubbed the head along her heated slit. She shuddered and moaned looking back over her shoulder at me as though she might protest, then I plunged deep inside her, the words dying on her lips as I felt her body grip the length of my shaft. 

I worked up into her, each stroke deeper than the last. My hands roamed her body, one arm tightening around her waist to force her back to meet my thrusts, the other caressing her breast through the material of her dress. Soon she was slamming back against me and I groaned as she arched her back to lean back against my chest, lifting her breasts to my hands. I drew the front of her dress down to expose them, rolling her nipples between my thumb and forefingers. I felt her tremble and tense, then groan as she squirmed her ass back to meet my thrusts.

Her hands moved to my sides, nails raking my hips as I fucked up into her, our pace growing with the fevered crescendo of the music until I felt her muscles spasm and tighten around me, my breath catching in my throat. I felt her gasp and cry out, the sound lost as the music swelled and the voices of the singers met and rose within the song. My arms wrapped around her as I pounded into her, my last thrust forced deep within the tight grip of her muscles as I flooded heat into the spasming core of her body. My mind reeled, body twitching, the heat burning through me as I emptied into her. I felt her body slowly ease, muscles still gripping me softly. 

We stayed that way, breathless as the haze of passion ebbed with the music. For a few moments of silence there was only our heartbeats and the thrumming of our bodies, then I heard her laughter and slowly came back to the room around us. The thunderclap of applause was deafening. Laughing I eased from her body and turned her around to kiss her deeply, slowly exploring her mouth as my hands worked to right her dress. Her own fastened my pants and she drew back and inspected my tux, pausing to straighten my tie. 

We returned to our seats and watched the rest of the opera, her body snugged against mine, my arm along her seat back, our hands entwined. I didn't spend much time considering the last movements of Tosca that evening. My mind was working on how I could entice this creature into another evening, on my terms. Leaning to her I whispered against her ear softly.

"So…do you like hockey?"

The smile she gave me was answer enough. I couldn't wait to orchestrate an evening of more casual entertainment, and I grinned as I plotted what it would take to get that lovely hair down.

The Opera



After weeks of talking to one another on the phone and online, we decide to meet. We both make up stories for our spouses about someone at work having tickets for the opera that no one wanted . . . and we get away. 

Since it's our first meeting, I take special care in dressing for you. Short black dress, colorful jacket, just enough makeup to tantalize, and my favorite perfume. We decided to meet at the the big downtown mall, the City Center. 

When I walk into the bar where we're to meet, I'm a few minutes early. I walk up to the bar and order my Vodka and Cranberry juice. I notice a head turn as I order. As my eyes meet yours I know it is you. There is instant recognition in your gaze. You smile at me, motioning for me to sit on the stool next to yours. As I move toward you, I notice your eyes looking me up and down, and see you smile. It feels good to know you like what you see. 

You stand up and help me onto the high stool, whispering "Hello . . . You look beautiful." in my ear. Your warm breath on my ear and neck are almost as promising as the husky sound of your voice, so familiar and yet so new without the phone lines changing it's timbre. 

Once I'm perched on the stool, the bartender brings my drink and I reach for my handbag. You place one large, rough hand on mine and tell the bartender "I am here to provide whatever the lady wishes." All three of us smile and the very obvious multiple meanings of your declaration. I pick up my drink with a nearly shaking hand and do all I can to keep from giggling (with nerves? anticipation?). 

After you pay for my drink and a nice tip, your hand is back on mine. We smile and make small talk until we've finished our drinks. Then you lean over and whisper in my ear again. There is no need for whispering, but we both feel the jolt of electricity as your face gets so close to mine again.

"It's about 1/2 hour until the overture will start, we should be going." You help me jump off the bar stool and notice my smooth legs in their black stockings. They're not long, but they're not badly shaped. You put your hand in the small of my back as we leave the bar, and I can feel it's warmth through my jacket and dress. 

When we are walking the concourse of the City Center we dont' touch, in deference to anyone who might spot us. But I can feel your body near me, and you can feel mine. I feel the heat and tension of all those conversations we've had. The memories of lonely nights wishing I were with you, and the promise of the evening to come. It flashes into my mind that I should not expect so much from our first meeting, but dismiss the thought as foolish. You are my dear, kind, long-time friend. Meeting in person could never be disappointing.

You follow me as we go into the theater. Your eyes follow my rear as we climb the stairs, you body still so close I can feel your heat, and yet desparately far away. Knowing that you're watching me turns me on. I love feeling you close behind me, but not touching. And I can tell you're getting aroused as if I can smell it in the air. Perhaps I can.

We take our seats in the theater and start to read through the programs. I notice you looking at my knees as I cross my legs. It feels good to know you're still watching me. I allow my right leg to drift over a little and touch you, calf to calf. Our elbows touch on the arm between our seats as the lights go down. 

I am so excited, and it is not just the nearness of you. I love the opera, and I love live concerts, and I love the tension that is already coursing between us. The concertmaster appears and the musicians tune. The conductor comes out and the music begins. 

It is thrilling. The music is transporting. The voices and the costumes and the emotion are amazing. At one point, when the soloists are singing a beautiful duet of love, I reach over and put my hand on your thigh. I feel your muscles quiver at my touch, and I'm briefly distracted from the music. 

I cast a glance at you. You look like a man just waking from a dream. Your eyes pierce mine as we share the beauty of the music. The song is so powerful, though, I can feel it pulsing through my body, and my attention is drawn back to the stage. When the song ends, the curtain comes down and the intermission is starting. 

The house lights come up and I find my hand still clenching your thigh. I also notice that your hand is on mine, holding me captive there. It feels so solid and warm, how could I not have noticed when you placed it there? My eyes follow the length of your strong arm up the length of your jacket sleeve til I can see your eyes. You are looking at me with amusement, joy, and not a little bit of hunger. We smile at one another, knowing that tonight will contain more music than just that of the opera. 

You break the spell by speaking softly. "It's intermission," you say "would you care for a drink?" I have to concentrate to hear your words over the rushing of arousal in my head. Your breath on my ear while your hand is on mine sends me into a dizzy spin. I shake my head lightly and laugh a bit to clear my thoughts.

"Yes, I'd love one, thank you." 

We stand up and walk out to the lobby. The line is long, but we enjoy talking to one another as we wait. In some ways we are still strangers, yet in other ways we've known one another our whole lives. We don't touch, though, this being way to public of a place. 

After we get our drinks we find a handy corner to lean in and chat. As we talk we are subtly flirting and teasing, but trying hard to be totally discreet, in case someone we know sees us. When the lights flicker for the end of intermission, we both breath an audible sigh of relief at the thought of the relative privacy of our seats. The desire singing between us is visceral.

This time, as soon as the lights go down, your hand finds my knee. MMMMMmmmm Again I'm struck by how warm your body is. I slip my arm around yours and run my fingernail up the underside of your forearm. The music has begun both in the orchestra, and between us. As the opera goes on, we are carried away on the music, but this time, nothing can distract us from the joy of finally touching one another. 

Your hand is gently carressing my knee, and slowly goes to my lower thigh. With this, my hand gently lights on your thigh, and I feel that quiver again. I start to stroke your thigh gently - mimicking the sensations your hand is giving me. As the music picks up and the action on the stage is getting heavier, your hand starts to explore a little more, too. Your fingers sneak under the hem of my dress, and you let out the breath you'd been holding when I put up no resistance. Tickling up my thigh, enjoying the smooth hose on my skin, you suddenly stop. Your fingers found an unexpected surprise. They found skin. My stockings stop half way up my thigh, with a band of lace. All thoughts of the opera are gone as your head snaps around to look at me. My head is turned toward you, too, with a little knowing, teasing smile. 

I can see your eyes darken with arousal and I feel your pants leg shudder as you realize what I'm wearing. You send one brave finger on a search mission. You run that finger up my thigh, the back of the nail firmly stroking my skin. You give an audible but very silent groan when you first feel the moist hair of my private parts. I'm wearing no panties.

You are astonished at what you've NOT found, and very interested. You look up at my face, searching for my eyes. I, however, and still looking at the stage. I am still smiling that half smile, and looking very . . . triumphant. I am avoiding your eyes, and pretending to watch the opera as I shift in my seat to offer you slightly better access. Your hand slowly moves up my leg, past my stocking, smoothing over the skin of my thigh. I shiver at your touch. So warm and gentle, yet electric. 

As your hand moves over my skin, i decide to be a bit more bold myself. You look so good in your dark suit and tie. I smooth my hand slowly up your leg. I can feel your erection growing, and feel my inner core turn to hot liquid. I run a firm finger along the length of your shaft, through your pants. I am rewarded with a shudder of anticipation. 

Suddenly your hand is gone from my lap, and I suffer a flash of abandonment. 

"I have an idea." You remove your suit jacket and spread it protectively over my lap. "Mmmmmmmm" I murmer, knowing your plan will please me.

Slowly your hand starts it's quest under your jacket . . . under my hem . . . up my thigh. Oh, noble fingers, so brave and so pleasing. They have found their goal and will now show me their talents.

My mouth goes suddenly dry as your finger first starts to tickly my moist hair. How many times have I played out this very scene in my head? I bite my lip to keep from vocalizing the joy I feel at finally having you touch me. 

Your finger is desparately slow in it's exploration. No, it's not exploration, is it? It is calculated. I glance at your face and see that you, too, are struggling for control. The look of determination on your face almost brings another giggle bubbling up my throat. But the giggle is choked on a gasp as your first finger is joined by another. Slowly they tickle my hairs, running back and forth so lightly I question if they're really feeling anything. Oh, but I feel it.

The teasing you are doing is starting to drive me wild. Mercifully, you finally end the torturous tickling and, and if you have choreographed it purposefully to coincide with the music on the stage, your fingers firmly clench my mound.

"Oh" I involuntarily exclaim. The music all but drowns my sighs as your hand, enboldened by that first grasp, starts to carress my slit with purpose. You smile as you dip into my dripping folds. Small gasps are swallowed by me as I use all my energy to keep from squirming obviously in my seat. I wonder, briefly, what the man to my left thinks, and try to keep my eyes focussed on the stage.

Our faces both remain studiously turned toward the opera as the music, dramatic and powerful, swirls around us. Your hand continues it's sweet ministrations, slowly moving along my slit, back and forth and wriggling. The all movement stops for a second as the music has stopped for a breath before the final crescendo of the song. Just as the singers break forth in glorious cacophony, one finger touches my throbbing clit.

"Ah" I gasp aloud.  

"Are you enjoying the second Act?" Hot breath, voice raspy with desire, you've leaned over again and whispered in my ear.

"MMMMmmmmmmm" I murmer, fearful that if I attempt actual speach I will groan or shout or myself start singing. Your eyes glitter in the near-darkness as you smile, arrogantly knowing what you are doing to me. Your finger flicks over my clit as you grin . . . and flicks again.

Slowly, now, you put your fingertip on the core of my arousal and rub. Slow circles, smoothing over and around the nub. My eyes close and I bite my lip. The eroticism of being in public, with you, at this amazing opera are powerful enough, but you fingers on my most sensitive parts start to send me over the edge very quickly. Surely those around us must know what is going on. I breath deeply, trying to control the speed with which you are bringing me to climax, and I can smell my arousal on the air.

My hand on your thigh clenches as I feel a second finger join the first in it's sweet travels around my clit. Around and up and down and over they swirl and bob as in a dance. Perfectly attuned to my body, and perfectly in time with the dramatic music swirling around us. Your hand must be soaking. My mind, usually so very practical, cascades over the danger of being here with you and so very public. I briefly think about the huge wet spot that will be on my dress, and lean over to whisper to you.


"Lift my skirt out from under my butt for me - a wet spot there would be too embarassing."

You chuckle and shake your head, but you briefly leave your work and comply with my wishes as I slightly raise my hips off the seat. 

"Silly Cat" you murmur.

Your hand resumes it's exquisite dance and I relax into the sensations. Fingers swirling, spreading my lips, smoothing my folds, rubbing and circling my clit. Then, just as the music swells again around us, explosion! FAbulous, marvelous, glorious orgasm makes my legs quiver with trying to sit still, and causes my hands to clench - one on the armrest, one bunching the fabric of your slacks. Your fingers are relentless, driving me to higher and greater sensations as I plummet over the edge again and again.

I groan deep in my throat and try to look like it's just the music. The man sitting to my left glances over and gives you a brief, knowing smile. We both laugh briefly at the knowledge that not every secret is unknown.

Your hand grasps my mound tightly again, calming my spasms and comforting me. You know what I need and enjoy because we've talked through every act time and again. You slowly move your hand out from under my dress and pull down the hem. I come down from mentally clinging to the high ceilings my breathing slows and my hands unclench.

"Your turn" I whisper, and I slowly remove your jacket from where it's blanketted my legs. I fold it lightly in half and you drape it over your own lap.

With your jacket folded on your lap, I can now explore with more privacy. I turn my face to watch the stage once more as my hand slowly feels the length and girth of your hardness. Mmmmmm it feels so tantalizing. I run one finger up the zipper of your pants, firmly. I glance at you out of the corner of my eye and see your eyes close briefly. Then I find the zipper pull and slowly bring it down. Having opened your zipper, I find silk boxers! Oh my! The cool, smooth fabric feels like liquid under my fingers and I fumble with freeing you from it's bondage. 

Your magnificent erection under my fingers is such a good feeling that I breath a quick sigh and glance over at you again. The music on the stage has moved along to one of the final numbers of the opera, and several amazingly talented voices are raised in harmony as you tilt your head back, eyes closed.

My small hand seems even smaller wrapped around your cock. Your skin is hot and feels dry, but there is a very strong life force there, as my fingers wrap around you. I want so much to steal a peek at you . . . but I know that is a treat I'll have to save for later. I content myself with stroking the length, for starters. I run my fingers and nails up and down your shaft several times, lightly. 

I love feeling you get harder under my touch. I run my finger tip around the head, swirling and stroking. Moving my hand down the shaft I then scratch lightly at the base. I feel your balls. I run my fingers around your scrotum and take each ball gently in my hand. It's as if I'm testing the weight of them. They feel so warm and solid, and strangely fluid in their sack. I groan a little as I feel you tremble at my touch. 

I finally stop totally teasing and firmly clench your cock. I start to stroke in earnest now, pumping your cock with long, firm, steady strokes in time with the music. The head of your cock is rubbing your jacket. I steal a glance at your face again, and though it is pointed to the stage, your eyes are closed and you're clenching your teeth. I lean closer to whisper to you. "Do you want me to stop now?" I ask in a low, throaty whisper. 

"God, NO!" you answer back. 

I smile as the woman on the other side of you glances over at your exclamation. I smile kindly at her and chuckle a little. She still has no idea what is really going on, but I know that I owe you a good one. I start to pull my hand back, and you grab my wrist and turn your head to face me. Your eyes have a pleading look as you whisper. 

"Please dont' stop now!" 

"I won't, I just need to get something." I assure you. I claim my own hand again, and reach to the floor for my handbag. I pull out a large linen handkerchief and replace my bag on the floor at our feet. You smile slightly, and start to breath again. I slip my hand and hankie under your jacket once again. I maneuver the handkerchief around the head of your cock, and hold onto it with my fingers as I again start to squeeze and pump your erection. 

The final song of the opera has started and the music is overwhelming. The feel of your hard cock is equally thrilling. As the entire chorus is singing and singing, the orchestra is playing, and I am slowly bringing you to climax. Your hands are clutching the armrests and your eyes are closed. 

Your breathing gets short and ragged, and it's all you can do to keep from humping your hips. I reach my hand surrupticiously to my mouth and put some spit on it, then return to my task. When the moisture hits your cock, it's too much for you and sends you over the edge. You groan softly as my big handkerchief fills with your cum. My hand gently milks your cock as you throb and reward my efforts. The smile on my face is huge as I gather the edges of the hankie and take it back. I wait until your eyes are on me again and I raise the hankie to my nose and smell. MMMMM - my eyes close, and I dart my tongue into your cum for a taste. I see you lick your lips as you watch me. 

The curtain calls have started now, so I tuck the handkerchief into my handbag again. Our eyes meet as you put yourself away . . . and we both smile. This is only the beginning of a marvelous evening, and we both know it. 

We wait in our seats for the crowds to dissipate. We talk about the music, and the costumes and the orchestra. We speak about other operas we've seen (my experience in this, as well, is limited), and we compare histories. You tell me about plays you've seen in your life. I tell you about great songs and concerts I've enjoyed. 

Once the crowds have thinned some, we stand and start to exit. Almost all of the other audience members have gone by now. We slowly walk down the great stairs from the balcony, and I excuse myself to use the restroom. When I return to the second floor lobby, you are leaning against the wall, gazing over the balcony. No one is around. 

I come up behind you and stand very close. You feel the warmth of my body and turn around slowly. You grab one of my hands and slowly bring it to your mouth. Instead of kissing the back you turn my palm toward yourself and slowly, keeping eye contact with me, french kiss my wrist. Holding my wrist to your mouth, and staring intensely into my eyes, you start to back me away from the balcony railing. We are right outside the women's restroom and lounge, and you whisper in my ear. 

"Is there a good nook or cranny in that lounge?" 

"Yes," I say breathlessly "to the left inside the door looks like a quiet place." 

You continue to back me into the women's lounge. You put your other hand in the small of my back, and we're moving slowly and smoothly as if in a dance. You maneuver me to the left inside the doors, and around the corner until I'm backed into a corner of the lounge. You bend over and put your lips close to mine. 

"I thoroughly enjoyed the final act" you say. 

"Yes," I agree, "it was truly inspirational." 

You move your lips from my mouth without taking a kiss. Relocating your warm breath at my ear, "I am completely inspired, Cat" you growl. "I'm so damn inspired I don't think I can wait to get to the car." 

You start to make love to my ear. Your tongue flicks in and around. Your ragged breathing brings heat and coolness inside. Your hands are still holding my wrist and the small of my back. You take your hand away from my back and take hold of my other wrist. 

You hold my wrists down at my hips, and kiss me lightly on the mouth. As the kiss intensifies you raise my wrists to the walls behind me. You hold my arms out and kiss me thoroughly and deeply, sucking on my tongue and ravaging my mouth. I return the favor, sucking your tongue and running my own around your lips and teeth. You press your body against mine and I can feel your hardness against my belly. I squirm and rub against you, relishing the feel of you. 




The Opera



We kiss and squirm like that for a while, and soon I'm dripping down my thighs. I giggle and you ask what's so funny. 

"I'm dripping, honey." 

"Oh really" you ask, a smirk on your face. You let go of one wrist and lift my hem with your fingertips. Then suddenly you move your hand to hold my crotch. Your large, warm, rough hand on my mound again. I gasp and my eyes close involuntarily. It feels so good. You have found me out - I really am dripping. 

You look me deep in the eyes again, and I can see the smouldering desire in your eyes. Your voice is very ragged now.

"We better get going before they kick us out of here." 

You take the wrist you've been holding for a while, and let my dress down again. You walk with purpose, now, leading me out of the lounge and down the stairs. 

"WELL! That sure got you moving, didn't it?" I say as you all but pull me down the stairs. 

"Yes, Cat," you say as you stop suddenly on the landing. You plant a quick but thorough kiss on my mouth. "It's time we took a little drive around the city." 

"Your car or mine?" I ask as we start skipping down the rest of the flight of stairs. 

"Oh, I think we'll take mine," You say. Instead of turning to take me back through the City Center to the parking garage, you go out the front doors of the theater. 

The cool air hits our faces and a slight breeze seems to meet us. I look down the street to see the Main Library. One of my favorite views in the city! But then I notice that you are stopping at the huge limosine in front of the theater. The driver is opening the door for you, and you motion for me to get in. 

"What is this about?" I ask, perplexed. 

"I thought we'd want a place to be alone," you say as you help me climb in, "and hotel rooms are so cliche." 

You climb in after me, and the driver closes the door. The Limo is huge! There are running blue lights along the outline of the ceiling, and a few bench seats around the sides. I giggle at the fun of it all. You open the side cabinet and pull out chilled champagne and a towel so you can safely uncork it.

"Get comfortable, Cat," you say as your pop the cork. "We've got a few hours, if we like." 

I lean back in the seat and stretch my legs. Then I kick off my shoes and curl my legs under me. You pour the champagne into two tall glasses and hand me one. 

"A toast" you say grandly, brandishing your glass. "To a magical evening of music and love." 

"Yes," I say, clinking glasses "to a magical evening with you." 

We sip our champagne and relax back into the seats, finally alone and private for the first time. You set your glass down and take off your jacket and tie. You take my glass and take off my jacket, too. Then we snuggle into the seat with our champagne, and a bag of delicious crackers that seem to have appeared from out of thin air. Alone at last, we start to talk about all the things we talk about on the phone and in chat. 

I realize as we sit and talk that I'm all at once at ease with you, my old friend, and nervous at this first encounter with you alone. The limo by this time has toured around downtown and is getting on the freeway. 

"Where is he taking us?" I ask you with a smirk. 

"Oh, just around the freeway," you respond, collecting our glasses with a purposeful look in your eye. "I told him to just drive around and around until we intercom him to take us back to the garage. That's why I made sure we could get to our cars in that place regardless of the time of day." 

"Is there anything you haven't thought of?" 

"I don't know yet," you laugh. "You'll have to let me know as the night progresses." 

You reach over to another cabinet and turn on the CD player. You've brought some wonderful jazz, and the strains of sax and trumpet and easy drum rhythms start to waft around us. As you're doing that I notice the controls next to me, and start to play with the lights. hehehe!! I change the colors of the sparkly lights and fiddle with all the other knobs and buttons. I start to giggle like a child, having fun with the little gadgets, and lose track of what you're doing. 

Suddenly, as the sparkly lights are glowing red and the ambiant light is putting rainbows on the ceiling, you move to directly in front of me. You are kneeling on the floor of the car, facing me. I try to keep things light - joking about the gadgets and the sparklies and so on, but the look in your face, though decidedly happy, is not lighthearted. 

You place your hand on my knees and start slowly making circles with your thumbs on my inner thighs. Your hands are strong and solid as they move up my thighs and onto my hips, raising the hem of my dress a little, but staying on the outside of my clothing. 

I watch you, but your eyes are focussed on your hands, watching the heated path up my body. Slowly your hands move up my sides and over my rib cage. Then they move over the front of me to cover my breasts - both at once. The look on your face is intent and hungry. It's as if, given a small spark, the energy from your eyes would ignite and catch me on fire where your hands are touching. You are stroking and squeezing my breasts as if testing them. I laugh again. 

"Do I meet with inspection?" I ask. 

You look up at me as if you're startled to hear me speak. "Oh, yes. It's so good to finally really touch you." Your voice is husky and deep, as if you haven't spoken in days. Your voice breaks as you speak again. "You feel so good under my hands." 

"Thank you. I have to admit that your hands feel good on me, too." I lean my head back on the seat and close my eyes. Your hands leave my breasts and move to my shoulders. Your fingers go under the straps of my dress to carress my skin. Then you run your slightly rough hands down my arms. Your exploration has turned into a kind of cross between light massage and . . . . is it revery? You stroke my arms down to my hands. 

Taking one hand in both of yours, you take the massage path more seriously and rub the pads of your thumbs into the base of my hand. I groan involuntarily as you release the tension near my wrist. 

"OOoooooohhhh that feels so good," I encourage you. 

"Hmmmm - maybe it's time you found out just what a good massage is like." 

You look me over once again and wrinkle up your nose in distaste. "You have altogether too many clothes on, though, for a proper massage. Let's see what we can do about that."

Moving once again with great purpose, you reach boldly behind my shoulders and unzip my dress. Deftly, you part the shoulders of my dress, and pull it around in front of me, and down. I lift myself off the seat to allow you to take it off, and you gently fold it and place it way up on the front end of one of the side bench seats of the car. 

"No, don't do it yourself, Cat," you instruct as you notice me reaching to unclasp my bra. "Allow me the pleasure." 

You move closer to me again, leaning your body in against me, kissing me again as you reach around with both hands to free my breasts. Your hands fumble a little, and we both chuckle. 

"I think I'm a little relieved that you can't do that so deftly as all those stories describe." I'm smiling up at you as you finally manage to unclasp me. 

"Well, I have to admit I'm a little out of practice. And slight nervous, too! I've waited so long for this opportunity to be with you, Cat." 

My bra is finally unhooked, but you don't just rip it off me. You put both of your hands where the clasp was, and spread your hands over my back. You groan softly. 

"Your skin feels so good," you say in a soft, low voice. You spread your hands and hook your thumbs up over my shoulders to remove the straps. Your hands follow your thumbs over my shoulders and down the front of my breasts. You give one soft carress on each one, simultaneously, and then stroke your hands down both arms, effectively putting my entire body on fire as you remove my bra. 

I take a deep, now ragged breath of my own. "Wow, that felt so good. What do you do for an encore?" 

"Oh, Cat, I've been thinking about touching you for so long now, I don't want to miss a single sensation just because I know the sex will be good." 

You place my bra gently on top of my dress and turn back to me. It's then that I notice that there are numerous soft pillows on those bench seats. They're all covered with different fabrics. Linen, velvet, satin, cotton. You place several on the floor and take my hand. 

"Wait - let me take off my stockings." 

"OK," you say, sounding impatient, "if you must." 

I slip my fingers under the top of one stocking and slowly move it down my thigh. I smile up at you and notice you watching me. You lick your lips involuntarily and I chuckle. I stroke my fingers over my knee, down my calf and over my foot in one long, slow movement. Then I toss the stocking toward the front of the car, laughing. 

"Please let me do the other one," you plead. 

Your fingers trace a similar path down my other leg, moving to remove my other stocking. I enjoy watching you watch your hands cross over my skin. 

"Come along now!" you say with a smile on your face. "Lie down here and let me have my way with you." 

You position me on my stomach, laying the length of the car. You take time to make sure I'm comfortable and can breath as I lay there, with pillows placed here and there. I can feel the slight vibrations of the car barrelling down the road. It occurs to me then to wonder where we are on the freeway, but then I feel your hands on my shoulders again. You've rolled your sleeves up, and you've produced some warm oil. 

The slickness of the oil, with the slight roughness of your hands feels exquisite on my skin. You smooth the oil over my back, and over my butt. You let out a breath of air like you've been holding your breath. I look back over my shoulder to see you watching the path of your hands again as you start to give me a real massage. Your fingers are strong and persistent as you rub the oil into my parched skin. You find all the knots and kinks and press and rub and grind your fingers into them to release all the tensions. Soon, my shoulders, neck, back and even butt are all completely relaxed and you have me purring on the floor of that limo. 

Suddenly your hands lose contact with my skin. I look back at you again, over my shoulder, to find you starting to unbutton your shirt. 

"Hey, that's my job!" I exclaim. I roll over and sit up, putting my hands on yours to stop your progress. "Allow me the pleasure of exploring you now." 

I get up on my knees in front of you, holding your strong hands in mine where they stilled your selfish act of undressing yourself. 

"I need to undress you myself," I inform you. "I've thought about this, dreamed about this, for too long now." 

We both smile as our eyes meet. You bend over to me for a sweet, sensuous kiss on the mouth. Your lips touch mine with such soft tenderness that I almost whimper. 

I let go of your hands to start work on your shirt. I scooch in closer to you on the floor of the limo so that my small hands and arms can reach. My knees are between your thighs, and I can feel the heat of your body through your pants. 

One by one my small fingers unbutton your shirt. I notice that it's already untucked . . . so when it's all unbuttoned, I smooth my hands over your collarbones. I trace my hands over your shoulders then down your arms, taking your shirt with me. Teasingly, I take care to fold your shirt nicely before placing it on top of the pile of clothing you had started. 

"Now," I order you with mock sternness and a bonifide "Librarian" face, "stand up as tall as you can so I can finish this task." 

You start to unfold your long legs (let's face it, everyone's legs are long compared to mine) and stand up in the car. You bend over almost double, and grab onto the hand strap near the door. I giggle at the sight a little, but then I notice the bulge in your pants. 

The dripping between my legs intesnifies as I reach up for your belt. I can't help but brush my hand along the length of that tempting bulge. My fingers pull your belt clasp loose quickly, and I'm working with great purpose now.

"No need to rush things, Cat" you say, taunting me. 

"Oh hush, you," I scold. "I'm in charge right now, you just do as you're told!" 

You laugh and your eyes fairly glow as you look down at my hand on your fly. We are both struck by how pale my skin is against the dark color of your suit, how red my nails are on my pale hands. 

I unbutton your waistband and run my hand down your crotch before unzipping. "Mmmmmm, you feel so good," I purr up at you. Your smile has disappeared, but not the glow in your eyes. I hold your eyes with mine as I unzip your pants. I love feeling you this way, and watching you watch me is even better. I smile up at you as my hands tug your pants over your hips and down. 

"Hold on, there, Tex," I order as you start to lift your feet out of your pants. "No sense having to do all that again." 

I tug on your boxers, deftly moving my fingers under the waistband and pulling them down, too. Your hard cock springs free nearly in my face and I give it a quick flick of the tongue in playfulness. 

"Now, my darling, you may sit down." 

You just about fall down into the limo seat, and, lifting first one foot, then the other, I remove your pants and your boxers. 

"Now we're even." We both say. Laughingly, we argue a bit about who owes whom a drink. All laughter stops, however, when I scooch up between your legs, still on my knees, and grab your cock with my hand. I groan in delight as I finally have hold of your marvelous shaft again. I look challenging up at you and smile. 

"Devil." you breath at me.

"Yes, my dear, I have a purpose. I'm here to give you the best head of your life." 

You lean your head back over the seat and breath out a whispered "Oh my god" as my tongue flicks out to tease your head. I place my lips around you gently, running my fingers up and down your shaft. My tongue is laving your head, swirling and flicking madly inside my lips. My hand is pumping near the base of your shaft, gently but not without a little pressure. 

Then I remove your cock from my mouth so I can nibble a little. My fingers start to fly around your balls, carressing, feeling, weighing, stroking them. 

Meanwhile, my mouth is playing with your cock, making love to it. You start to murmur to me about how everything feels. I love hearing you talk to me, coach me. But it's not coaching, really. More encouragement, for a job done well. :-) 

I nibble and lick and suck and carress for a few minutes, bringing you very close to climax. But, feeling you get larger in my mouth, I pull back and release all touch and just give you a cool breeze on your cock. I blow a steady stream of air onto you to calm you down a little as you groan for the delayed gratification. 

"Oh, Cat. I need you," you say as you lean forward and kiss me on the mouth again. Your hands are on my shoulders, pushing me to the floor on a bed of pillows. 

"Let me make love to you, like I've dreamt." 

"Yes, darling," I murmur. "I need that, too." 

I am laying on my back on a bed of pillows, and you are over me, holding your weight on your hands. Your eyes blaze into mine for an instant that seems like a lifetime. Your body is pressed against mine, leaving a path of heat wherever we touch: your shoulders against mine, my breasts pressed flat against your chest, your hard shaft pressed up between our bellies, your groin against mine, and our thighs touching as one of your knees finds it's way between my legs.

The look is broken when you kiss me again. No simple light romantic kiss this time. This kiss is deep and purposeful and slow. Your tongue sweeps through my mouth insistantly, as if claiming territory it knows it should own. My tongue takes it's turn as well, circling your lips, exploring your mouth. We both groan as the car jolts a little on the road and our bodies grind into one another. I feel like I've become one large flame of liquid fire, concentrated at the sensuous joining of our mouths. I love kissing you. 

Is it years or weeks or only days that we have laid here, kissing like this? Surely it can't be just minutes. The sound of your voice through our many conversations sings through my head as you suck my tongue into your mouth. I willingly give you my tongue, my lips, your own precum having been licked and sucked off by now. 

Your hips start to swerve a bit on mine, reminding me that there are still great treasures our bodies need to discover. Sucking your tongue into my mouth as if it is the cock I just loved, I reach down for the real thing between us. Your weight shifts as you bring one hand to my face, still enjoying the sweet sensuality of this long slow kissing. My hand grasps your shaft and you groan into my mouth. 

"Oh Cat, I am going crazy taking this so slowly." 

"MMMMMMMMM I know, Darling, but doesn't it all feel so good? I'd like to make this first time last for weeks." 

My hand is becoming insistant on your cock now. Strong strokes of my hand bely my words of wishing to linger. Your mouth moves to my neck, nibbling and kissing and sucking, quickly moving from spot to spot leaving a trail of fire behind. You find one ear with my mouth and my hand leaves your cock to grab you by the shoulders, nails first. 

"Oh yes, that's so good" I groan as you begin to run your tongue around my ear, exploring. You claim each ear as your claimed my mouth, licking, blowing, sucking, exploring. My hands and nails are stroking your wide shoulders, long back . . . up and down in long strokes and pulling you in convulsively with my nails when as you build up the sensations on my neck and ears. 

Suddenly you pull back, just for a second. Our eyes meet again, and it almost seems as if your eyes have changed color. You have a deeper, more intent look than I've seen so far. 

"There are so many things I've dreamed of doing with you, Cat," you say to me. "I don't know where to begin." 

"Umm," I say with a sly smile, "didn't you already begin in the theater?" 

You laugh with me, smiling ear to ear at the vivid picture. "Yeeeeeeeeeeeesssss" you hiss, giving one last long slow kiss on my mouth. Then you murmur something about letting you do this your way as you kiss my forehead. You place a slow, sweet, careful kiss on each eyelid. The a slow sweet kiss on each cheek, my mouth, my chin, each ear. Your lips move to one shoulder, planting these slow, sweet, tender kisses across my collar bone on first one side, then the other. The trail of these tender kisses goes down, over the mound of one breast where you discover an already erect nipple. 

Your tenderness continues as your tongue comes out to slowly lick and circle that nipple. Liquid fire is seeping down through my skin each place your lips or tongue touch me, pooling in the core of my being as my body simultaneously relaxes and becomes electrified. 

You don't pause too long at that breast, moving across to the other to give it the same considerations. You briefly glance up at me, seeing me smiling, head back in pure enjoyment. The magic you are creating with your mouth envelopes me and ships me off to a distant shore of sensuality. Your pause causes my back to arch instinctively, begging you to continue this strange and mystical cross between earthly carnality and near worship. Soft moans and sighs escape me unintentionally as your mouth continues its molten path downward, over my belly, across one thigh, across my knee, down my calf to my foot. 

One long, torturous second passes while all contact between your mouth and my body is broken while you fly over to my other foot. Your kisses and slight licks continue up my other leg, mirroring the path you took down. I am writhing only slightly, and groaning as the anticipation grows. 




The Opera



It is then that I finally notice your hands again. They are both leading and following your mouth, carressing me, exploring my body, preparing the way and smoothing the path of fire after it passes. Your hands and mouth seem to call my body's entire nervous system to one focussed point wherever they are concentrated. Like my nerve endings are the the magnetic dust in one of those kids' toys and your mouth is the magnetic wand. Wherever your mouth happens to be, all my energy and desire is focussed in that one spot - quivering and pushing to be under your ministrations. 

Your mouth finally comes to it's destination as you pull your magnetism away from my skin near my crotch. I look down at the sudden ending of sensations to see you staring at my mound, one hand on either of my hips. 

"Oh God, Cat. I can't tell if I'm still just dreaming or this is real." 

With every nerve ending in my body buzzing with anticipation, my hips quiver slightly at the feel of your breath on my pubic hair. My head lolls back as I groan and buck my hips just once - my brain having reverted now from it's normally intelligent, high-thinking form down to base instincts and animal functions. 

"If this is a dream, my love, let me sleep forever." I groan.

One of your hands leaves it's heated space on my hip to cover my mound. 

"Ohhhhhhh" I breath. "Oh god, please stop torturing me. If you build the suspense of this anymore, I'm going to turn to liquid and drain out under the doors of this limo." 

You chuckle with the heady sense of the power you have over me. "Even in this compromised position you still talk like a librarian, Cat." 

"Well, my darling, I'm here to fulfill all your dark fantasies about the sexy librarian. Now DO ME, dammit!" 

You move your now wet hand and use two fingers to open my lips. One fingertip immediately finds my sweet spot, causing me to buck my hips again and yelp. You chuckle again, having a good time with your sweet, sweet torture. Your hands spread my legs wider, holding my lips open as your tongue finally takes charge of my most intimate territory. 

"Oh my god!" I scream, finally releasing another orgasm as your tongue laves my clit. Your hands go under my butt, holding me where you want me so you can continue to please me. Fingers, teeth, tongue, lips - all working me to such a frenzy I can't tell what all you are doing and what parts of you are doing them. All of my nerves are singing and screaming as you claim one orgasm after another, building them up like the great crescendo in the opera finale. My hips are grinding into your face, my hands are grasping at the pillows, my pussy is dripping and groaning her own fantastic song as you drive me over the edge again and again, sucking up my juices and making my eyes roll to the back of my head. Flying over my thick lips, my humming clit, in and out of my dripping pussy, and teasing my ass hole, too, your fingers and tongue and teeth are conducting the orchestra of my nerve endings to greater music than even I knew they could find. 

Finally all the sensations lead me to the climax we've both been dreaming of for months. In that final brief moment of clarity before I careen over the cliff I notice that your fingers have found my Gspot inside me, you've got one finger fucking my ass, and your mouth is on my clit, sucking and licking. This one fleeting thought that will haunt me forever, I think, is OMG, how many hands does he HAVE????? 

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" I scream out in primal ecstasy as I squirt magnificently all over your face and hands, drenching a few pillows beneath me. You lap it all up as best you can. I don't even know if I'm awake anymore, and frankly, I might have passed out for a second or two. Next thing I know your face is above mine again, and I can smell me all over you. We kiss again and you allow me to start to lick your face clean of my own juices. 

"UMph" you sigh as you finally lay down next to me, taking me in your arms protectively. 

"That was amazing, how you responded." 

"Well - I've warned you enough how wet I get." I say, sounding a little more defensive than I intended. 

"Oh, Cat - that is a good thing. That is a very good thing," you whisper into my ear as you stroke my hair. "A very good thing." 

We lay quietly for a few minutes, and I'm so relaxed I start to drift off to sleep. I slowly realize, though, that you are far from sleep. Your hands, which have been caressing me, start to become seductive once again. They are moving quickly over my body now, rubbing my nipples, squeezing my breasts, cupping my mound, massaging my thighs and repeating the whole routine again. 

"MMMMMmmmmmmmmmm" I breath out. 

"MMMMMMmmmmmm indeed" you echo. 

I roll to my side to face you so that I can explore your body, too. In moving, I feel your hard cock on my thigh. Groaning, I take it in my hands. 

"You feel so good. I can't believe I'm finally here with you, able to feel you in person." 

You look me in the eye again, with a grinning intensity. 

"I've got to be inside you, Cat. NOW." 

You roll over on top of me and with a deft jiggle of your hips position your cock along my damp cleft. You move your hips again, effectively opening my lower lips to rub the head between them. Slowly, you continue to move, coaxing and prodding, teasing clit and cunt. I start to squirm under you, and buck my hips every so slightly. 

With that motion, the head of your cock is right at the entrance to my pussy, and our eyes meet again. No words are needed as you slowly push your cock into me. Inch by inch you slide into me, feeling my body give way to bring you deeper. Half way in, you start to draw back. 

"NO!" I cry in protest. I raise my hips to yours, forcing you to come into me again. "I need you inside me, too!" 

My bucking brings you into me. I can feel your balls against my labia. You are finally inside me all the way, but not quite deep yet. I raise my knees to hold my legs high and wide, inviting you deeper. You accept the invitation, pushing your hips closer to mine. I groan again at the feeling of fullness you give me. Responding, you thrust again, not really pulling back, but pushing deeper into me. 

"Oh yes" we both say, meeting eyes once again with ironic smiles. 

"Is this what you wanted, Cat?" 

"Yes, it sure is, Honey. Is this what you needed?" 

In answer, you begin to move your hips in rhythm. You start a new song in my head as you close your eyes and rock your hips, thrusting your rod up into me and pulling back again. I'm holding my legs up high, by my face, and enjoy the building sensations. Your thrusts start to build in intensity, in, out, in, out and soon, I don't even measure the outs in my brain, it's only in in in in IN. I can feel your balls hitting my butt cheeks, and your pubic hairs rubbing my clit. 

My eyes are closed, too, now, as all my senses collect between my legs where the music is building. The sensation of having you inside me, thrusting and prodding, is finally too much for me to withstand, and I come again. You can feel my muscles clench around you and you thrust deeeep for my climax and hold there for an instant. 

"Good god, Cat, you've made me all wet again!" You smile at me as you resume your thrusting. 

"Stop talking, dear," I respond to your mock teasing, "I'm busy orgasming." 

We exchange silly grins again as you continue to drive into me. Each exquisite thrust drives me closer to another orgasm. It doesn't take too many thrusts to make me come again. And again. And again. I am, at this point, reduced to animal sensibilites again, groaning, grunting, breathing loudly. I don't even know how many times I've come when my brain surfaces enough for it to occur to me that variety would be a good thing. I open my eyes to find you staring down at me with a huge smile on your face. 

"Having fun, honey?" you ask me unnecessarily. 

"Yes, I AM!!!!" I respond. "But I want more!" 

"What do you want, Cat? Your wish is my command." 

"You know what my favorite position is. Let me roll over!" 

"Oh my god, yes." you say, moving quickly to allow me to roll over. 

I let out an involuntary whimper when your cock comes free of me. But I roll over quickly, and get up on my knees, raising my ass in the air. When you don't touch me immediately, I turn my head to see what's wrong. You are sitting on your knees, eyes focussed on my butt, just staring. 

"What's wrong, hun?" I ask you . . . suddenly worried about my body. 

"Just a moment of reverence," you say, taking your eyes from my butt to meet my eyes again briefly. You reach out both hands to take my butt cheeks, and caress them as I turn my head forward again, enjoying the feel of you touching me. "I've dreamt of this so much, Cat, I don't want to forget what it all really feels like." 

I smile as I feel you moving your hands over my buttocks. I look down between my legs and groan as I see your cock, quivering while it waits for me again. 

"Pleeeeeaaaaaaase" I plead for you to resume. "Please." 

"Oh yes" you say again, getting up on your knees behind me. I feel your hand directing your shaft as you find my pussy again . . . teasing my clit again along the way. 

Finally, your head is entering my cannal again, and your hips start their rhythmic motions again. This time, when you thrust it is deep and exotic, pounding my Gspot at this angle, and sending me almost immediately over the edge again. Pounding, thrusting, groaning, you keep going as I orgasm again and again and again. Clenching your cock, pulling you in, pushing you out. 

My pussy has taken on a life of her own, and frankly, my brain is in no shape to keep her under control. All my nerves are singing again, and all focused on our joining. You've reached around and squeezed my nipples, flicked my clit with your fingers, all just pushing me further and further out of higher brain function. Each new sensation sends me on, groaning and coming again and again. 

I have no idea how long this amazing thrusting and orgasming has been going on when I feel one more sensation. One wet finger has entered my ass, and again it sends me over the edge. Thrusting into me with your cock, thrusting into my ass with your finger . . . I can feel your rod grow harder and longer. I know you're getting close, and I'm hungry for you to fill me. 

"Come on, baby, fill me up" I shout to you. "Please! I need to feel you filling me!" 

That finally sends you over again, and your thrusting gets slower as you come. You squirt load after load into me, and the sensation makes me squirt, too. My thighs are temporarily humming, then numb as my biggest orgasm yet claims me, mixing my juices with yours. Both of our thighs are dripping and you thrust again and again into me, claiming this territory as yours as you continue to come, groaning. 

I've lost all track of time, now, and it occurs to me to wonder how long we've been driving around in this limo. But the concern is fleeting, as you slowly dismount me and lay down next to me. I lay on my side, facing away from you as you direct me with your hands, spooning me and cupping my breast in your hand.

There are no words necessary at this point. We've said it all in our physical movements and love words. We both drift off to sweet after sleep as the limosine continues to barrel down the freeway.



The Opera



The air was cold and wet that night. Little drops of moisture were collecting, and running down the brick walls of the buildings as I passed. The fog danced around the street lanterns and made the noises of the crowed street, ring out. The rolling coach wheels, behind the clinking of iron horse shoes, echoed up and down the cobble stone street alarmingly. I could hear the band playing in the tavern far ahead, clearly. The banjo, accordion, and fiddle players yielded an off tune, as they played a loud rousing chorus lead by inebriated patrons. Over all this noise however I was still afraid I would be heard, the sound of my footsteps. I tried still to make them slow and quiet, as I pursued her along the sidewalk. 

In and among the everyday people of London, it reeked of manure, ale and sweaty brows, but I dared not get in a carriage and run the risk of loosing her; and I wanted to go undetected. I didn't think she had seen me since I had taken after her, as she had come out, on foot, from the hotel. A lady by herself in such a part of the city was an invitation to danger, or perhaps, a warning. 

The streets of stone sweated under my feet as I passed. A storm was coming, I could feel it through my thick black overcoat and I wrapped the gray scarf tighter around my neck. Slowly I adjusted my hat and the leather of my gloves rubbed together and squeaked in response. Up ahead she slowed her pace, and so did I. Quickly I stepped under the awning of Brothel, it was dark, the woman was well past the street lantern and the crowd buzzed about her, but I knew she'd stopped. My breath became shallow and it's heat floated up in the form of a mist. I couldn't help feeling guilty; I had not yet done such a thing as this. I covered my mouth and stood totally still, with a silent dread welling up inside of me. I waited for a good while and slowly peaked out onto the street. Was I going to do this? 

The woman had gone on ahead, and was stopped, about to cross the street. She tucked her hood tighter around her head, and gathered up her soft black skirts with a gentle movement, before she stepped down off the curb. It was almost like hearing music, watching her graceful gestures. Her steps were a quiet symphony as she floated across the street, a lively music, wild and windy like Vivaldi. I followed her and watched her sweep along the opposite side of the street, cloak fluttering behind. She was herself a frantic instrument, not like a flute or a violin, more like a cello or a bassoon, with notes deep and soft. 

My wife has no music in her. She often sat next to me in the concert hall playing the part of the proper, modest, respected wife of an English Physician. She did listen and often times I would look for signs of an emotional reaction, something stirring in her heart, but it never came. 

"What in God's name are you doing?" I hissed at myself, even though I knew perfectly well. I followed her across the street, dogging a carriage. As it passed I saw that the woman in the black cloak was gone. Feeling nervous all of a sudden I looked up and down the line of shops, until a blacksmith on horse back shouted at me to get out of the street. I tipped my hat at the large, burly man and went quickly to the other side. I rounded the corner, still no sight of her. An old woman with a basket came towards me, crooning at me in a thick cockney accent.

"Hallo Gov-na. What an' ansom gent we got' ere ladies. Cam on love – won't yer bye a flawer for Granny, go some right pre-y posies..."

"No, thank you madam," I winced at the volume of her shill voice, like an old instrument badly out of tune. "Not today," I whispered and went to go around her. She stepped in front of me and we did a little dance right there on the sidewalk.

"Ohhhhh." Her companions came closer. "We got a right gen-tle-man ere. And what's a gent-le-man like you to do wiv out a beautyful flawer for is lady friend?"

"What lady friend, don't be impertinent..."

"Well yur not dressed up fa me!"

"Oh all right" I plucked the least shabby of the red roses, feeling suddenly shaken.

"Oh fan-cy! Three P govna." I pushed it at her and hurried on. "Ah, thank-ye sir, cum a-gain." 

I continued on trying to drown out their laughter and it faded as the wind picked up, and then vanished all together, as if they had gone into the Pub; it was no use, she was gone.

"Damn it," I swore and turned around to go back, immediately I jumped as I caught a still, dark blur out of the corner of my eye. The woman was one the stairs above sidewalk, not 3 feet away. "Oh, excuse me madam! I did not realize..." I could not continue but remained staring at her, even now she did not look the least bit concerned about my attention. This troubled me for some reason. Totally unnerved I just stood there, looking at her. I felt as if was gasping for air.

The woman stood still - possessively unalarmed at my frightfulness. I must not have heard her as she went up the stairs, and stood in the doorway of the Opera House watching me. There was an intense silence about her now. A noiseless wind circled round her body, even though the breeze had quite died. She seemed to sway without moving, without making a sound, like an apparition. It seemed be emanating from her.

Her complexion was pale against the dark cloak and her eyes were positively black, with bright gray rims that looked golden in the lamplight and I felt that if I were to look into them any longer they would swallow me. Her eyes flickered and it was as if her gaze had imprisoned me; I was helpless to do anything but continue to stare at her in the street. Her full pink lips moved slightly taking slow, calculated breaths shoulders bare under the cloak and the fullness of her bosom overflowing the restriction of the black bodice. 

I was spell bound in my rapture and I was sure that I had never seen someone more simply, but exquisitely beautiful in all my life; the more I looked at her, the more so she became. Shaking myself I realized that my behavior would soon be construed as improper, if it had not already become come so, and I cleared my throat to speak. Words flew from her lips like foreign birds, seeming to take flight even before her lips had opened. Her voice rapped itself around me, like the wind itself, like the gray sea, tossing me about mercilessly.

"You ave been vating for me, in de shadows."

"Why, whatever do you..."

"I vas vatching you." 

Not knowing whether to feel like the mouse or the cat I offered her the rose. Her eyes dropped to it and I watched the thick fringe of her black lashes come down. Slowly she produced her hand from beneath her cloak like she was casting a spell and reached for the flower as if it did not exist until she touched it. Her long black satin gloves went up almost the full length of her arm, shining in the streetlight. Her finger brushed mine slightly in the passing. As my hand felt hers, it was as if my breath was constricted for a moment in my throat and instead my whole body breathed in and out, one solitary plus. My body had become alive with sensation, more than I can ever remember, and I wondered deeply at this new existence of ecstasy. 

The woman took the rose like she was going to smell it but then touched it too the tip of her nose and closed her eyes. She then proceeded to guide its velvet petals down over her parted lips, over her chin, down her neck and in between her breasts to her bodice. Then she lifted the flower again and brushed it across the top of her bosom, like a sensual, sacrilegious signing of the cross. I stared in shock, not knowing what to say or do, whether I should be enraged or intoxicated.

"Are you ready" she opened her eyes and I jumped again.

"I beg your pardon."

"To go inside?"

"What?"

"To see zee O-pera," one corner of her mouth lifted in an amused seriousness. 

"Oh, right, I'd almost forgotten." Suddenly I couldn't think clearly and just stood still looking at this magnificent creature in awe, what power she had over me. With almost a sly turn she made her way towards the entrance. Shaking myself as her eyes left me, I was self-possessed again and went up the stairs, passed her and opened the door. Without glancing at me she entered and took down her hood. Her hair was up and set in meticulous curls, which fell down the back of her neck, kissing it like midnight over a smooth pond filled of stars.

Looking up from my intoxication with this strange woman, I suddenly realized the danger I had put myself in and looked at the crowd of people in the lobby. Who might recognize me? And if they did how would I be able to explain my presence here, with her?

"No one vill see you" she looked back at me, I stood frozen.

The woman turned to me fully and locked eyes with me. My body could not move as she gazed at me, and I understood. "But, if dis makes you feel better..." she produced a mask with white and gray feathers from the deep pocket of her cloak, " then by all means wear it." 

I moved towards her but without knowing that I was doing, until it was happening. She got close to me and holding on to the white ribbons sewn onto the sides of the mask, she reached around the back of my head to fasten it. My vision was obstructed for a moment, until she adjusted the eyeholes, and then the world changed. Not abruptly but soon the theatre, the people, the world was getting more slow, the music was softer. And then I noticed; my arms were open and she was in them. I could feel the heat of her body near mine, the sent of dark longings blowing through her hair, it was binding me to her in a way I had never experienced before. When she stepped away I felt I was a new man –somehow.

She turned away from me bringing her hands over her head. The woman kept moving in her turn until she faced me again and brought a mask down over her own face, black satin like her dress, but lined with silver leaves. 

"Shall vee find our box?"

"Of course" I moved of my own will and offered her my arm. I produced two tickets from my jacket pocket when the usher asked for them. 

"Thank you sir, right this way" he said, not thank you doctor, I mused, just sir. She looked at me out of the corner of her eye seductively and I lead her up the stairs after the usher. We followed him down a red-carpeted hallway hung with portraits and decorated with ivory busts on pillars. As we passed I could feel them trembling, watching us almost in horror. I wondered for the first time if I should run back, tear off the mask in a fit and go home to my wife at once, who would be in the study nursing a glass of Gin, crying. The woman steered me to the door her arm wrapped around mine. Subtly she reached into the palm of my hand; with one movement of her satiny finger she stroked the inside of it. I straightened up like a shock had passed through my hand, a pleasant electric jolt and before my senses returned to me I was in the room, but I could not remember how I had gotten there.

Below us, and straight ahead, was a dark stage (lit only with a large white moon and several stars peaking through the night sky above a castle). People below were filling the seats. The other boxes all around us, up the height of the theatre walls, were swaying colours of ladies even gowns and men in black suits. The seats on the main floor of the theatre were covered with in rich red velvet and the wood was dark brown, but looked gold in the intense lamplight. Instruments playing different scales could be heard as the musicians were tuning up for the night's performance. They made my head swirl even more, and suddenly I doubted if I knew what was going to happen. 

In our box, like in the others, was a long, wide velvet couch decorated with gold trimmed pillows. On the table in front of it there were two pairs of binoculars, two crystal glasses and a bottle of champagne in a wine bucket, filled with ice. The woman stopped before the couch and looked back over her shoulder at me. 

"Vould you?" I couldn't resist. Reaching around her shoulders I untied the cloak from her neck and touched the bare softness of her shoulders, as I drew it back over them, slowly, and then handed it to the usher. She took a seat on the couch. I went to the other side, took off my outer ware, and handed it to the usher as well, who hung up our belongings at the back on the box. He then laid my top hat, scarf and gloves on the table beside the door. I sat down myself and stared at her through the candlelight. The usher poured a glass of champagne for the Lady and then one for myself. 

"Enjoy the performance," the usher said, bowing and excusing himself. He closed the door behind him and it was over, I was caught in the snare.

The room was still trembling and I could feel the eyes of the other patrons, but they were not taking any kind of special notice of us, wrapped up in their own performances. I looked out over them fascinated; I could almost hear their own thoughts of guilt. 

"I should not have left my babes..."

"I took rather too much wine at dinner..."

"I should be home with my husband...."

Satisfied that no one was paying us any mind I looked back to her, only to realize she had been watching me. 

"Dis O-pera it said to be excellent, no?"

"Yes, quite." I handed her her glass and we toasted. I took a sip of champagne and she followed suit. I was spell bound as I watched the flicker of the tip of her tongue meet the first, cold, bubbling taste of wine. She swirled it in her mouth, slowly, thoughtfully, and then swallowed.

"Who are you?' I heard myself ask and then inwardly curse myself for doing so. She stared back.

"I am a trap."

"What, don't be ridiculous."

"Vell, if dat's vat you sink about dis arrangement, den you're the vone who is ridiculous." Her eyes sparkled under her mask devilishly as she took another sip.

"Why?'

"Because dat's vhat you vant me to be." The lights on stage came up; she picked up the binoculars and looked down at it. I moved closer to her, thinking that no one had ever so completely understood me before. It was all I could do to not throw myself on her right away. The folds of her black dress rippled like waves and I longed for them to wash over me.

"And how my sweet Lady do you suppose that I want that?'

"Be-cos, my dear sir, I alvays know. I pride myself on it."

"And, how, do you know, exactly?" I reached over to her and placed my hand over hers as it lay on her lap.

"You are telling me right now."

"I am then?" Applause began in the Opera House. We both looked down to see that the conductor had entered from the side of the stage and was standing in front of the Orchestra graciously accepting his applause. He bowed slowly, turned toward the musicians and tapped his baton on the music stand. It tinked and I could feel everyone sit up a little more straight. The first notes of the Opera began softly, unobtrusively with a lone flute, like a spider skimming along the surface of a pond; it was joined by a violin skipping along behind it, followed by five others one at a time. A cello began short notes all in the same key, like drops of rain into the water. It soon became many drops with many notes, and so the night was rebuilt in front of us. 

"You are enjoying it?" She said and I returned my glance to her. Her voice, it was, or so it seemed, to be part of the music, a perfect lead instrument, a divine solo and it drew me in.

"Madam, I must tell you, that I am enraptured by you."

"Of course" she smiled, "vhy else vould you be here." I narrowed my eyes at her as she herself moved closer and looked back to the stage as an actress appeared at the top of the castle, prompting much applause. The singer looked around appreciatively and began her song. Her voice broke through the music like a splash and went tripping across the surface of the song. 

I returned my attention to the Lady and placed my hand over hers. I caressed it and slowly moved my hand up and down her leg under the thick layer of petty coats. She closed her eyes and slowly tugged at the fingers of her right glove. When it was loosed enough she eased it over her hand and pulled it down the length of her arm. The glove dropped off and she continued to the other. Taking off the other glove, she woman placed her hand on mine, I brought it to my mouth and kissed it. The taste of her skin, the feel of it on my tongue was indescribable, and I pushed her smallest finger into my mouth. The hard, sharp nail pressed into my tongue and she moved closer still. I looked around; no one was watching us. The woman slipped her hand behind my back and traced my spine with her fingers. My whole body was awakened, it felt touch in ways that I had never known. She turned towards me and I lifted my hand to touch her face. 

Her lips were wet and I moved my thumb over them as she opened her mouth and I felt her cold darting tongue. I moved my hand down her neck and took her waist in my other hand. Her shoulders were round and glowing and I caressed them before tracing my hand down to her bosom, which was moving with rapid breath. I closed my own eyes as I felt the soft, supple mounds of flesh. I will curse myself later, I thought, not I was curing myself now; indeed I was already damned. But wished to become utterly helpless to my longing.

"Close zee curtain," she whispered. I looked at her and stood slowly, not wanting to take my hand from her. I pulled the red curtains closed just as a few patrons looked up, but they were too late to see us as we disappeared behind it. I turned to her; the music and voices pushed me towards her, as she lay stretched out on the couch, candles flickering. I pulled back the table and knelt before her. "Take off your jacket,' she smiled. Quickly I did as she told me and laid my coat and tails by. "And zee vest." I did as she asked.

Taking her delicate boot in hand I began to undo the laces, which seemed to please her. I slipped one off and then the other. She signaled for me to come closer, and so I sat beside her on the couch. She took hold of my tie and maneuvered it off, pulling me towards her by the collar. I was so close so her now that I was almost frightened. One by one she undid my buttons until my shirt hung loosely on me, then she pulled it off my shoulders and I threw it away. Scrambling out of the rest of my garments I got up on the couch beside her, we met in open-mouthed ecstasy.

My tongue against hers felt so strange and alluring, her lips were so full and tantalizing under them. I couldn't resist tracing my lips and tongue, down her shoulders and neck to that over spilling bosom. She groaned with pleasure and held me closer to her as thrust my tongue into the small space in between her breasts. I could not contain myself and tried to reach around her. She pushed me back, climbed on top of me and began to trace my chest with her fingers. Pausing slightly over my nipples and then moving her mouth to them she began to suck at them, until it almost felt like little bites and they burned with pleasure, my bare back lay against the soft red velvet. 

She reached to the soft privet flesh, now grown taught with desire. I gasped under her touch as she kissed my neck for several moments. I reached round her now and undid the back of her bodice, bringing down the soft cover of midnight to reveal a white corset. She let the dress fall to her waste and I sat up and lay her back on the couch, pulling the dress off completely.

She pulled me closer to the couch. Standing naked in the Opera House box she moved my cock to her lips and kissed the head. Beginning the long agonizing tease with her tongue, she traced up and down the shaft, using her teeth ever so slightly (inducing a fear on top of the immense pleasure it created). I swayed a little as my fingers remained anchored on her shoulders and waves of pleasure crashed through me. I pulled away and kneeled in front of her. As a loud chorus begun on stage I took hold of her leg and traced my hands up under the hidden folds of her petty coats. 




The Opera



Slowly I spread her legs apart. Her hair was soft and black and there was a heat emanated from it. I pulled down a petty coat and then another, until all that stood between clothing and our naked bodies was her tight corset and the simple skirt beneath. I pulled it up over her legs as she lay against the arm of the couch. I took hold of the strings of her corset. I tugged at them until they came loose and she pulled the piece of clothing up over her head and was bear-chested in front of me.

Her hair had come loose and she gathered it in her hands for a moment and lay back even further. Her beautiful large breasts were tipped with dark nipples and I moved my mouth to them, flicking them with my tongue, she moaned as I squeezed her breasts with my hands, and held her tightly to me around the waist. The woman's stomach and lower back were soft and I moved my fingers over them, down her hips and legs. Moving my hands back I pushed them under her skirt and drove my fingers into her body, making her gasp, she was supple and moist inside. Slowly I began to pump them and she responded by matching my movements with her hips. She held me tightly as I kissed her and breathed in her sent. 

"Der is no escape form passion" her breath was hard as she spoke.

"I don't want an escape," I pulled her down fully on the couch and lay on top of her, sucking at her breasts. I took hold of her bottom and pulled it towards me as my fingers went into her deeper and faster. I moved my mouth to her face and returned to the slow, deep French kisses. She tightened her legs around me. I took my fingers out and took hold of my cock. Then I proceeded to open her secret folds and rub my cock into them and against them, not penetrating her, but teasing her and stimulating all her most sensitive parts. Pangs of ecstasy went through me as our most privet flesh met.

Then, slowly she pushed me off of her and then off the couch back onto my knees. The woman sat up and pulled my head beneath her skirt. My tongue entered the secret folds in between her legs. I swept my tongue over her locus, the center of her sexual energy that held the key to the deepest desires and she writhed with pleasure. My tongue went deep and her moisture was on my face. I pushed my fingers inside of her still caressing her with my tongue, over the hard swelling flesh. 

Squeezing her bottom again I pulled her closer, she was groaning uncontrollably. I wrapped my arm around her backside and held her tightly as I pressed my fingers inside and licked ravenously at her. She put her head back on the couch as I squatted on my feet and pushed still harder with my tongue. The woman moved off the couch and I followed her on my knees, as she held my head in position. She sat on the table, knocking the glasses and binoculars to the carpet. I heard her take the ice pitcher in hand and then reaching in, take a piece.

I began to kiss her and move my mouth up her stomach and towards her breasts, still fingering her. She was tracing the ice over her nipples moaning with ecstasy as they became rigid with delight. I licked her cold breasts and moved up following the watery trail to her mouth. I heard her put down the bucket and then a cold flowing sensation hit my shoulders as she poured the champagne over me. Thrilled beyond belief I sat up and closed me eyes, feeling it drip down my back to my bottom. Opening my eyes again I watched her pour the rest of the bottle over her own naked body. Hungrily I began to lap up the wine running down her body, over her breasts, down her stomach over her sides and hips. I pushed her back on the table and lapped up the wine running over the soft hair and onto my pulsing hands and I sucked hard at it. Pulling my fingers out of her she lead me around the end of the table and lay down on it lengthwise, feet touching the floor.

Straightening up, I opened her vagina with my hands and again teased her my cock deep in the folds of her privets. I touched her breasts again, squeezing them and brought my hand down once more, to open her, and slid in my wet cock, until I felt the tight pressing of the hot tunnel that was her vessel. She grabbed the sides of the table. I pushed back her knees and then pulled her off the edge of the table a little and moved closer to her, deeper into her. I pushed over an over, feeling her rise and fall on the table against me. 

Moving my hands from her hips I caressed her bosom and then with one hand and one finger, slowly made a circular movement on her clit. Her writhing became more intense and in my own pleasure I gave short gasps, as I pumped her. It was getting close and we were getting loud, but so were the performers who were enacting a battle scene and shouting shrilly. I switched positions with her and lay back myself. She climbed on top of me, while she moved me in and out of her. I continued to hold her open with one hand and rub her with the other. 

In the crashes and clangs of weapons I rolled over and climbed onto her, pushing into her, kissing her face and mouth. I grabbed the edge of the table and pulled, making my thrusts even more powerful and I began to kiss her face and neck. Just then, at the moment we came I could stand it no longer and I bit, fast and hard into her neck, licking it to dull the pain. Her rapture was so great that she hardly noticed. Clinging to me as her life-blood flowed into my mouth I reached the height of ecstasy and she went limp in my arms.

Fin



The Opera - Her First Time!



I pulled into John and Teresa's driveway thinking about all the times I visited them over the last three years. John was my associate at work who seem to have it all, beautiful home, beautiful wife and daughter. While I am the other hand divorced and without a family of my own. I rang the doorbell and waited a couple of minutes and rang it again when no one answered. After a couple of tries I went to the side of the house. Looked over the gate. As I suspected they were in the backyard enjoying the late afternoon sun.

"Hey John. It's me Dave."

"Come on in," he called.

As I walked around the side of the house I could see Teresa and Kami swimming in the lap pool. I sat down next to John and he poured me an iced tea.

"Hey buddy what brings you by?" 

Just as I was about to answer Teresa steps out of the pool as she walks over to the table and grabs a towel to dry herself off. I couldn't help but admire her lean swimmers body. Refocusing quickly I say "I've got these tickets to the opera for tomorrow night but my date canceled and I don't want to go alone. I thought both of you could use the tickets and have a night on the town. I also have reservations at Maxim's for a late dinner. It's on me if you would like to go."

Teresa laughs. "It figures, John and I are going away for the weekend. And we would have loved to have gone and seen Madame Butterfly. I took Kami several years ago but I don't think she really understood it. And it's such a lovely opera and so inspiring."

Just then Kami walked over from the pool to dry herself off. "Oh Mom I was just too young to really enjoy. But I do remember how elegant everyone looked during the intermission."

As she was talking my eyes drifted over her magnificent 18-year-old body. She had changed from a awkward girl to one voluptuous woman.

"Well Kami, why don't you take the tickets and take your boyfriend with you.I think you'd really enjoy it now that your little older. It would give you a chance to be elegant and beautiful as well" Teresa said, "Would that be okay Dave?"

"Yep, I think you'd really enjoy it, it's my favorite Opera." Dave replied.

Kami blushed and said "When I told Jimmy that Mom and Dad restricted me to the house while they were gone and told me not to have any parties or any boys over he decided to go surfing with the guys for the weekend. So I don't have anybody to go with."

"Oh Kami that's to bad"

Then John spoke up. "Now let's see here, we have two tickets and two people who'd like to go but don't have anybody to go with them. Dave why don't you take Kami. I'm sure you'd both have a good time and some fun. Much better than just sitting at home alone."

"That's great idea. Dave you could explain to Kami what the opera's really about and she would probably then enjoy it much more. Then both of you wouldn't have to sit around brooding about being alone for the weekend." Smiling, at Kami and Dave, Teresa looked from one to the other and then back.

"Mom, he doesn't want to drag a kid to the opera. Even if I would enjoy it. Would you?"

"Kami, it would be my pleasure to take you. If you don't mind going with an old guy?"

"It's great then it's a date. When do you want her to be ready?" Teresa giggled.

We all laughed and agreed I pick her up at 6:30. 

The next day at around three o'clock the phone rang. It was Kami "Hi Dave. I was wondering what are you going to wear to the opera? Are you going to dress up? I was hoping that we could, but I wasn't sure."

"Okay, I'll wear my tux. Will that work for you?"

"That will be a great! Uhm, What kind of dress goes well with a tux? I don't want to look out of place. Would a prom dress be okay?"

"Well you can never look out of place in a black dress. Do you have one? If you don't you might look in your mom's closet I'm sure she's got one that would look just great on you."

"That's great idea! Okay I see at 6:30." She was obviously excited and looking forward to the evening.

Kami ran upstairs to her mother's bedroom and walked into the closet. She looked at a dozen dresses when she finally came to a black cocktail dress. She pulled off her T-shirt and shorts and slipped the dress over her head. It fit perfectly. She looked at herself in the mirror and thought "Well I don't look like a kid in this. Jimmy would be all over me if I ever wore this out with him." 

She decided to take a bubble bath in her mom's bathroom. As she was relaxing in the water and running a stimulating luffa sponge over her body she thought about the way Dave had looked at her when she gotten out of the pool. And how she had felt when his eyes moved over her body. 

That same warm tingling feeling between her thighs was suddenly back again. She slid her bare hand over her breast and touched her nipple. It immediately rose and became even more sensitive. She wondered what his touch would feel like? Her hands slid down between her thighs and over her clit which she slowly began to rub.

Within minutes her body was fully aroused. She tried to focus on Jimmy's image as she plunged her fingers into her pussy. But her mind kept coming back to Dave's eyes as he had explored her body. She began moaning and calling his name as she reached her orgasm. She lay back in exhaustion and began thinking of the possibilities ahead of her tonight.

After a few moments she finished bathing, shaved her long shapely legs and dried herself off. She slipped on a thin silk Shorty robe that she left untied, enjoying the partial view firm breasts. She sat in front of the mirror and began applying her makeup. Her mother had taught her how to accentuate her natural beauty. She decided to go with an evening look that highlighted her high cheekbones and clear eyes. Her mother had told that less is more, then you'll look beautiful and not cheap. 

She walked back into the bedroom and over to her mother's dresser. She searched around for a few moments finding a small black lace thong and silk thigh high stockings. She slipped them on feeling very sexy as she it. She slipped the dress over her head and zipped it up on the side. She stepped into a pair of Jimmy Choo 4 inch stiletto sandals making her legs even more shapely. As she looked at herself in the mirror she decided to remove the pin holding the neckline together. Now the plunging neckline went to below her firm ripe breasts and allowing for an even more spectacular view of them.

She put a dab of her mother's most expensive perfume between her breasts, at her wrists, the back of her thigh and then on impulse pulled her skirt up and put some on the sides of her thong.

The doorbell rang downstairs just as she was slipping on 24 inch gold rope necklace that hung perfectly between her breasts. She went downstairs and opened the door. Smiling to herself has Dave's eyes moved over her body making her feel more like a woman and she ever had before.

"Well I can see you like it! I guess we will be elegant." And then in a moment of self-doubt she asked "It's okay isn't it?"

"Oh yeah, my God you're incredibly beautiful!"

She blushed grabbed her bag and jacket and they went out the door to his car. As she got in she decided to let him enjoy the view. Once in the car she crossed her legs knowing that the top's of her stockings were still showing. When he got in the car she noticed a distinct bulge in his pants and that his eyes kept moving from her thighs to her breasts and back again.

As they drove away her mind flashed back to her thoughts during the bubble bath and she smiled at the wonderful possibilities ahead. She felt that warm tingle begin again between her thighs as her nipples hardened in anticipation.



The Opera - Her First Time! Ch. 02



Kami was pleased with herself as she and Dave drove to the opera. She carried on a lively conversation and kept on crossing her legs and turning sideways to face Dave. She knew she was teasing him, and she loved the effect it was having on him and her. He was obviously turned on and she could definitely feel her own body tingling all over.

When they got to the opera Dave pulled up to the valet parking area. As the valet opened her door she let her dress rise above her silken hose and watched his eyes almost burst when he took in the view of her cleavage and slender thighs. She enjoyed the effect she could have on men when she wanted to.

When Dave came around the car she took his arm, pressing her full breasts against him, as they walked into the opera. She felt the men's eyes move over her body taking in all of her charms. They quickly went to the orchestra section and took their seats just as the opening music started.

After the first overture Kami leaned towards Dave and whispered "Oh I love this! The music is so beautiful and the costumes are unbelievable. Thank you very much, this is wonderful." Then she reached over and took his hand in hers, holding it until the first intermission.

They walked out into the lobby and Dave asked her what she would like to drink. She leaned towards him and whispered "Dave, could I have a champagne please. Mom and dad let me have a drink every now and then. It would just be perfect for tonight."

Dave smiled, looked in her eyes for a moment. "Okay, just one because it's your first opera. I want you to really enjoy it."

In a couple of moments he returned with two flutes of champagne. They sip the champagne and talk about the music and the meaning of the opera. Dave couldn't help but notice the way Kami held her glass close to her body, between her firm breasts and how she kept moving her hand up and down the flute ever so seductively.

He thought to himself "My god she is a beautiful sexy woman. If I was 10 years younger I'd be all over. Her body just screams for attention. If she only knew what she was doing to me right now."

The bell ending the intermission sounded. Kami took a final swallow of her champagne and then stepped towards Dave and leaned in to him. Her body lightly pressed against his as she whispered "Dave, I don't know if you know this. I have had a crush on you ever since I was 14. This is a dream come true for me. I just want you to know this is the best night of my life. I also want to know that I am 18, legal, not a virgin, and you really turn me on!" And then she leaned up and kissed him full on the lips while he stood in shocked awe.

"Now let's go enjoy the rest of the opera." She smiled seductively and took as arm.

As they sat down she leaned herself against his arm resting her head on his shoulder and placed his hand on her thigh as the music began. When the lights went down she slipped her delicate hand down on to his thigh and squeezed it. All through the second act she occasionally gently stroked his thigh.

As he glanced towards her his eyes moved from her beautiful face to her full breasts. When she breathed her breasts would slightly pull away from her dress allowing him an unobstructed view of her erect nipple. Slowly he began to move his hand up and down her thigh as well. His state of arousal was growing by the minute.

Her hand moved up his thigh and then began rubbing his erection through his pants. She looked up into his eyes as he leaned into her and kissed her. It was a tender kiss that began with growing passion. Her mouth opened and he slipped his tongue into her mouth encountering her probing tongue. After a moment he said "Come with me." They both slipped out of their seats and walked to the side aisle way where they stepped out of sight of the audience. He quickly turned and took her in his arms crushing her to his body. His kiss was much more passionate and demanding. She pulled herself up fully against him and was equally passionate in return.

"Dave, let's find some place quick. I want you inside me now. I don't want to wait another minute."

They walked quickly to the stairwell and descended into the theater company dressing room area. Just ahead of them the lead soprano left her dressing room to go up on stage. They stepped in her room and began quickly undressing each other. Dave's heart almost stopped when he slipped the dress of Kami's shoulders and it dropped to the floor. Her body was better than even imagined. Her breasts were ripe and firm, defying gravity was delicious pink nipples fully erect begging for his lips to touch them. She had narrow waist that swelled to full hip's and slender thighs. She pushed her thong down off her hips and it dropped to the floor. Her bush was slightly trimmed and inviting.

She unbuckled his slacks and pulled his boxers down below his knees. She kneeled down and took his member in her hands and began kissing it. As she began taking more and more of it into her mouth. He put his hands behind her head and began urging her onward. He looked down and he could see her lovely eyes staring up at him as he found himself plunging deeper and deeper into her mouth. Just before he was about to cum he pulled out of her mouth and lifted her up and kissed her deeply. Then he carried her to the settee and laid her down upon it.

His kisses quickly moved from her mouth, to her neck, down over her breasts. Stopping for a while to suck and tease her nipples and then moving to her wet pussy. She was completely aroused her body was aching for his kisses. His tongue explored her labia, the entrance to her vagina and concentrating on her clitoris. Her hips began rising to him, urging him on with her own intensity of needs. 

Again he pulled away from her only this time he centered his thick 10 inch long erection over her sex. Slowly he began pushing it in, penetrating her with a gentle passion that built steadily as their bodies responded to each other. Each time the head of his penis passed over her G. spot she'd moan and when he was fully in her and pressing his body hard against hers he was stimulating her clitoris again. His hands explored her breasts pulling gently on her nipples causing her to moan even louder. She wrapped her legs around his waist and then pulled them up even further on his body to increase her simulation. Finally in a heaving orgasm she screamed his name as he came deep inside her. He pumped in and out even faster as he came again and again.

After what seemed an eternity they collapsed in each others arms. Completely spent they lay listening to their ragged breathes and the sound of the opera above them. 

As he looked at her he saw she was crying. "I'm sorry Kami. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"No it's just that that is the most beautiful experience of my life. I never thought sex could be like that. And then the music at this moment just overwhelmed me." She smiled at him and began kissing him in earnest. Hoping they had enough time before the finale to enjoy each other again.



The Opera Show



We were planning a date in celebration of you getting a full ride to Clemson of your masters, and I recommended we visit the local theatre and opera house, to see what they were featuring. The opera house was having a showing that evening of a famous Italian opera piece, and I knew one of the sitters. He guaranteed me a free pair of seats for the two of us.

We got dressed up, you in a tight black dress w/ small flecks that caught the light and shined, and myself in a black tuxedo I had gotten a while ago. As we dressed for the evening, we reveled in each others bodies, amazed at the curves and lines contained by each other. We barely made it on time to the opera house, and my friend quickly directed us into the bowels of the building.   We had thought we'd be given a pair of cheap seats in the bottom and back of the theatre, but as we climbed the third flight of stairs we glanced at each other in glee. My friend hustled us into a personal balcony, whispering, "The couple that usually sits here called in saying they weren't coming, and since you did me that favor that time..." I wave him away after we both express our extreme thanks. 

He leaves, closing the blinds around us, just as the lights dim and the first actors walk onto stage. During the first few acts, we sit enthralled by the play, even though we can't understand them, we hang off every word. As the curtains close, the house lights flood on, basking the whole building in a glowing light. We squint against the light, and I raise my hand to block the shine from your dress. 

You laugh at my expression and lower my hand with yours, unwittingly dragging my hand to your lap. The lights die, and as the actors return, I notice my hand's placement when you move your thigh, and I adjust to keep my hand on you. I see you move to look at me out of the corner of your eye, and you barely smile. 

I move my hand higher... slowly dragging your dress higher on your knees and you shift, quietly whispering "not here, not right now...hehe" I nod, smiling, and shift my hand from you lap to your shoulder, slowly drawing you closer. We begin cuddling as the third act begins, you lay your head on my shoulder, sighing as I wrap you closer to my strong chest. 

We smell each other's scents - yours is sweet and slightly scented of apricots, while mine is stronger, more masculine, but still a little soft. I decided to wear cologne tonight for the special occasion, and the new scent on me interests you. You burrow deeper into my shoulder, causing me to shift slightly, inadvertently causing my hand to rub your chest. 

You shudder slightly as my palm passes over your nipple, but you don't pull away when I begin massaging your wonderful chest, you actually push yourself into it slightly, allowing your mouth to open barely as you run your tongue over your lips. I look down on you, and you gaze up. staring into my eyes I see yours sparkle mischievously and you begin rubbing my chest. 

We shift positions again, and you are now in my lap as the solo voice on stage is matched by another slightly higher, sweeter voice. As they sing in unison, so do we. I massage you through your dress, feeling you become more excited every minute. You stroke my legs and arms, pulling me harder into your body, forcing me to grasp you tighter. 

We grin as you turn on me, and seductively remove your dress's straps, letting it fall and expose your black lace brazier. I look into your eyes, and holding your sides I nuzzle into your bosom, kissing and rubbing your breasts and neck. You run your fingers through my hair, and grasping me, force to your breast, where I continue to tongue and kiss your nipples, working them to upright buds of arousal I remove your brazier, and alternately kiss every piece of your breasts as I hold them in my hands. 

You moan lightly, your voice urging me on. We no longer notice the music, the lights, or even the alluring Italian songs, we are in our own world, and as they enter their fifth act, we have shifted again. We are now standing, and you luxuriously remove my jacket, tie, and shirt in short order. I stand next to you, and slip your dress off your full hips, all the way to the floor. 

You work on my belt as I continue to massage your chest, slowly sliding my hands across your entire body. We together get my pants off and I move you to the edge of the balcony. You pause slightly, aware again of how many people are below us, but as I come up behind you, your thoughts flit away on the melody, my hard body pressing against yours, my arms wrapping around you, pulling you close, assuring you against anything in the world as I enter you slowly.

I prolong the entry as long as I can, letting you feel each inch enter into you. I reach down to manipulate your clit as I begin pumping into you, slow and strong, matching my pace to that of the man on stage's slow deep singing. You begin moaning, low at first, so I reach around and kiss you, muffling you cries of pleasure as I suddenly become aware of the people in the audience. 

As the man on stage retreats into the background, his lover appears and starts singing also. You take over the motion as the woman on stage does too, slowly driving to her rhythm, working yourself up to the impending orgasm. You bend completely over the railing, trying to let me enter you more. I grasp your shoulders, steadying you before we both go over the edge, figuratively and literally. 

As the song reaches it's peak, so does our passion, our love becomes too powerful to contain, you begin crying out our passion, you begin quieter than the singer, and slowly announce our presence as you match then overtake the volume of the singer. Your orgasm strikes, and after a final cry, you slump backwards against me as I come to my peak, releasing myself into you. We kiss long and hard... then begin giggling and laughing outright as what we've just done hits us full blast. 

We quickly dress ourselves, and while we are still searching for your lost underwear, my friend returns and quickly hustles us out of the balcony saying "You're performance was very noticeable, you better get going..." So we get moving, rushing and giggling to ourselves as we approach the backdoor. We leave the building and circle around to the front to retrieve our car. As I shut the door for you, I happen to notice a couple walking out - whispering together as they hold something between them. I climb into the car with a grin, and as we drive home for an encore, I fill you in on the lost underwear....



The Operating Theater



It is 1811. I have been sitting in debtors prison for almost a year now, trying to raise the money to pay my landlord all the back rent I owe. I couldn't help but get behind. A single woman in this day and age can do very little to raise money for herself, but I'm a religious woman and won't prostitute myself. Someday, maybe I will marry - but that seems unlikely, wasting away my best years here in prison.

I was born in 1792 into poverty, and my parents died when I was a teenager, leaving me nothing. I had no prospects, and tried to find jobs in restaurants and shops, but it is difficult to keep a position. After being unable to pay my rent one month, my landlord had me thrown into prison. Now, I rely on the alms provided by passersby who see my outstretched hand.

"Woman!" The gaoler was yelling at me. I raised my head and looked at him silently. "This man is here to take prisoners for medical research. He picked you. Go on, now."

"I choose not to go," I answered.

Turning red and stomping toward me, the gaoler grabbed my arm and roughly pulled me forward. "You have no choice. He is paying me for prisoners, and you are one he wants." He flung me toward the awaiting doctor, who proceeded to put handcuffs on me.

The doctor smiled. "You are an intractable one. Collins, the ether, please."

Another man came forward with a rag, reaching toward my face. Unable to use my hands, I tried to resist by moving my face away, but the two men held me close as the rag was forced over my nose and mouth. Soon, things went dark.

***

When I awoke, things were a bit hazy. I could see men looking down on me in two tiers - some were in seats before me, and others were in a balcony. The ones on the ground floor were all in white aprons and had notebooks. The doctor saw me open my eyes. 

"Hello, I don't believe I have your name. I am Dr. Kraus," he said to me.

"Ann," I said, still groggy. I tried to scratch my nose, but could not lift my arm from my side. I looked down.

I was completely nude, lying on a table that was tilted slightly up at perhaps a 20 degree angle. My arms were restrained by straps at my side, and my feet were tied into stirrups, held up in the air apart. I was completely exposed with a room of perhaps 40 men staring at me.

"It's nice to have you with us in the operating theater, Ann. The men above are paid spectators, and the men below are students that will be learning from you." He turned to the audience. "You see that I have shaved the patient. She is a virgin, which makes her particularly agreeable for this session."

Dr. Kraus now took his finger and traced it around my vaginal entrance. "This is where the hymen is visible. You probably cannot see well from where you are, so I invite the students to come forward to take a closer look."

The students stood and began to file down. As the first one leaned over and took a good look at my most intimate parts, I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. He touched the rim around my hole.

"Which part is the hymen?" he asked.

"This filmy tissue just inside," the doctor answered, taking his own finger and pushing it slightly into my vagina. "You are all welcome to come and feel the hymen for yourself. You'll need to know how to establish that one exists, when the men in the balcony ask you to check the purity of their fiancees." The balcony rippled with laughter.

One after another, the students, about twenty of them, came and peered closely at my vagina, then felt gingerly inside for my hymen. One of them spent quite some time with his finger feeling inside my hole, claiming he couldn't find it, which led to the Doctor again pointing out the hymen by carefully tracing my hole with the student. Having both fingers inside was painful as they vied to both fit inside my tight vagina. Finally, the examination was over.

As the students sat back down, Dr. Kraus continued with the lecture. "Of course, the hymen isn't the only part of the vagina worth studying. There is also a clitoris, sitting just within the two lips of the labia. The clitoris is a useless organ, but during intercourse it can become engorged, as can the breasts." He again touched me, pulling on my labia. "This is the labia," then he touched the senstive bump above that, "and this is the clitoris." He then moved to my side and started massaging my left breast. "You also see how the nipples of the breasts become hard when handled. This can also occur during normal intercourse."

Dr. Kraus took off his apron and unzipped his pants, removing them. He folded his jacket and shirt up, revealing his flaccid penis.

"I know you've all seen one of these before, gentlemen," he said. The crowd laughed. "You know how they work, no doubt. I will now show you how a woman reacts during normal intercourse, and how it changes her body afterward, so that you will be able to identify a used woman readily." He began to stroke his cock, getting it hard. When it was standing out from his body, he took a cloth from a bucket and wrung it out.

"No, please, don't!" I exclaimed. I valued my purity! I did not want to give it up!

"Collins? Please gag the patient." The man who had administered the ether at the prison came forward and tied a cloth around my face. I could not fight him, restrained as I was. I tried to talk, but only muffled noises came from my throat.

"A woman will usually, upon first intercourse, be too dry to admit a penis into her vagina, so for that purpose we have here a soaked rag." Dr. Kraus began to wipe my vagina, leaving my wet in the drafty room. He then positioned his member up to my hole and pushed it in. I screamed, but the gag muffled my voice. His penis pushing in and out of me burned me deep inside.

"You can see that the woman does not enjoy intercourse. This is true of women for most of their lives. You may have to instruct a frustrated husband that he will have to restrain his wife by brute strength or by other means."

At this, Dr. Kraus began to move in and out faster. I squeezed my eyes shut. I could hear the crowd whispering and coughing, and some laughter here and there. Finally, he pushed himself into me hard, and gripped the table I was laying on to steady himself. He shuddered a few times, then stood up straight and carefully withdrew.

As he put his pants back on, he began lecturing again. "You can see that, in confirmation of our examination of the hymen, the patient is bleeding vaginally. She was in fact a virgin. You can also see that not all of the semen remains inside the vagina. This is an indication of obstinateness, an unwillingness to bear my child." Dr. Kraus began to wipe me off again with the water soaked cloth.

"For the remainder of the lesson, each student will perform intercourse with the patient. You are instructed first to examine the vagina and confirm that you see no hymen, so that you can contrast the two states. After you have performed, you should wipe her off for the next student, out of consideration." The audience laughed. "Be sure during intercourse to observe as much of the reactions of the patient as possible, and share those observations with the other students. I will call each student down alphabetically. Mr. Ashdown, please come forward."

A student emerged from the gallery. He removed his apron and pants, as Dr. Kraus had, and began to stroke his penis as he moved toward me. He stood before me, still stroking, and peered down into my vagina.

"You can see that she is missing the tissue that was earlier covering her vaginal entrance," he said aloud. Then he inserted himself. I began to sob for the loss of my virginity.

"She is crying, which leads me to believe she does not enjoy intercourse. She feels very warm inside, and very tight. I am a little amazed, in fact, that her vagina is expanding to accept my penis." He moved faster, in and out, examining my body clinically. Then, he leaned forward, grabbing the table, and quaked as he released his fluid into me.

When he had recovered enough, he stood up and withdrew, accepting a wet cloth from Collins. He cleaned himself and then me off. I could feel his semen dripping from me.

"Mr. Bennett," Dr. Kraus called.

Another student emerged from the gallery, removing his apron and then his pants. He again peered carefully at my vagina, inserting a finger. "I can see nor feel any trace of a hymen." He stroked himself until he was hard, and clinically inserted his penis into me again. At this point, I was merely crying silently, the tears dripping from my face, imagining the horrible fate that awaited me as a slut with no one who would marry me after this.

As he moved in and out, he examined my labia and clitoris with his fingers. "Her clitoris is becoming enlarged, bigger than it was when she was still a virgin. She feels warm and tight." As the others had done, he braced himself as he moved faster in and out of me, finally leaning over me and pressing his pelvis hard into me as he exploded with his own pleasure. Not once did he look me in the eye. He withdrew and silently cleaned me for the next student.

"Mr. Bigge." 

A large man stood from his seat and came toward me. As his name would indicate, when he took off his pants, his cock was quite big. I began to sob again. I did not think I could survive this onslaught. He laughed at me.

"This gutter trash thinks she does not deserve this abuse! Maybe next time she will not break the law." He unceremoniously inserted his finger into my vagina, smiling as he did so, then pushed his huge member into my still delicate hole.

I screamed in pain. I could feel his hands rove over my thighs. "I observe that her thighs do not strain in this wide position; maybe she is not so virginal as we would have believed?" He chuckled. He put his hands around my waist. "She doesn't eat much, does she?" He took his time, pumping his cock into me hard each time, but still not finishing. He was obviously enjoying the show. Finally, with two hard thrusts, his seed flushed into me. Before he even removed his member, I could feel the sticky juice dripping down. He withdrew and cleaned me with the offered rag.

"Mr. Brickenden."

Once again, a student came down, examined me silently, then inserted his penis. Mr. Brickenden pinched my nipples as he pounded me. "She is warm, not so tight anymore." The audience roared with laughter. "Her breast are firm and enlarged." He slapped them each a few times, again drawing guffaws from the crowd. "I rather believe she's enjoying this." He smirked at me.

I could feel the tears drip down my cheeks. He finished pleasuring himself between my legs and wiped me up. I resigned myself to my fate.

"Mr. Brooker."

Mr. Brooker stepped down, ritualistically examining me as the others had, then rubbing my clitoris carefully as he inserted himself into my vagina.

"I have read that women as well as men can have an orgasm if the clitoris is stimulated. May I try, Dr. Kraus?" I looked at the doctor, who nodded.

As he moved himself in and out, Mr. Brooker also massaged my clitoris hard and fast. I tried not to respond, but despite my efforts to hold back, I could feel myself trembling. Soon, I was bucking my pelvis, my whole body rippling with pleasure as I involuntarily reached out for his fingers. When I was exhausted, I fell back on the table, and he stopped touching me, laughing. "I see that Mr. Brickenden was correct. She does enjoy being the object of our class." Everyone chuckled. I was completely humiliated and embarassed, angry that my body had betrayed me. My hot tears continued to flow. Mr. Brooker finally came inside me and cleaned me up.

The class continued to use me, about 20 of them in all. Finally, it seemed everything was over. Collins was unstrapping me. I could barely move anyway, so what was the point of restraints?

Collins stood me up and turned me so that my back was to the crowd. Then he pushed me back on to the table, stomach first.

Still gagged, my surprise and the questions I had immediately formed were inaudible. I felt him strapping my knees into the stirrups, legs apart, and my hands were restrained to my sides again. Although I was confused, I was relieved not to be so exposed to such a large group of men any more. I also could no longer see them, as my head was through a hole in the table, facing to the front of the theater.

Dr. Kraus again began his lecture. "Some women are such sluts that when their vagina becomes too loose, as has Ann's here, they perform their sexual work anally." I felt something pushing into my rectum. "This cone is designed to open a woman's anus sufficiently to allow a penis in." My rectum was being opened wider and wider. I groaned from the pain.

"One of our spectators today has paid for the privilege of using Ann's anus first. Mr. Mannering, you may come down."

I heard footsteps, then the sound of clothing dropping to the floor.

"Thank you, Dr. Kraus. Any instructions, or may I get to it?"

"You may proceed as you wish, Mr. Mannering," Dr. Kraus answered.

I felt the cone removed. "As you can see, class, the anus has been opened."

Something warm, presumably a body, moved up against me, and I could feel a fleshy object press against my rectum. Soon, it was in, and I could tell that it was like all the other members that had entered my most private parts that day. Mr. Mannering was gentle at first, then more urgent. It wasn't long before his penis was moving in and out of my anus so quickly that I couldn't help but yelp each time. Finally, he pressed himself all the way in. I could feel testicles against my sensitive skin as he orgasmed. Before he withdrew, he stood and rubbed my buttocks as my anus closed on his increasingly flaccid member. He finally withdrew.

"You can see that her anus is now of a different size than it was at first. You can always look for the difference in a woman to see if she has allowed herself to be so used. You will also note that the semen is brown, because the woman is unclean back here. Any questions?" The crowd was quiet. "Class dismissed."

As the men were leaving, they were free to come by me and touch me, and many reached their fingers into my throbbing anus, exploring me. Finally, they were gone.

"Collins, the ether again." Unable to fight, I was again transported to another state of consciousness.

When I awoke, I was dressed, laying on the floor of the prison. The gaoler was laughing at me. I gave him a dirty look, to which he replied, "Don't act high and mighty to me. I know what you are." Again, I could do nothing but cry. I was a ruined woman.