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Old Habits

By: Laszlo



"Hey, wait for me!!" I heard a voice call.

She was running as fast as she could in her high heels so I held the lift doors open and smiled as she entered. What a babe! I certainly hadn't seen her here before.

"Thanks!" she said, blushing, as her tight floral top stretched with each of her heavy breaths.

"Do you work on this floor?" I asked, as she caught her breath and shuffled the papers she was carrying. "I haven't seen you before".

"Only since last week", she smiled with even white teeth. "I'm with Pearl Orient Travel. Just taking some documents down to Level 4".

My eyes were glued to her heaving chest; she was a small girl, with large breasts and slim hips. As I looked her up and down I admired her tight calf-length pants and the strappy high heels which showed off her pretty tanned feet with their painted toenails.

As the elevator whooshed down 26 floors, I realised I'd have to act fast if I was to have any chance of seeing her again.

"Seeing you're new around here, would you like to have lunch with me, perhaps? I'm going down now".

She looked me right in the eye, and hesitated. 

"Well, not today", she answered. 

My heart sank, until she added, with a bright grin, "But tomorrow I'm free".

Just then, the elevator doors opened at her floor.

"I'll meet you downstairs at Café Angelica tomorrow at 1 then", I said quickly.

"OK. Bye!" she said airily, as she waved her slim hand and walked off. 

As I watched her click-clack down the corridor I admired the way the thin green fabric of her pants stretched across her neat butt. It was clear she was either pantyless, or was wearing a very small g-string. 

As the elevator continued to the ground floor, I also realised I didn't even know her name - nor she mine - but that could wait until the next day.

+ + + 

"So, do you make a habit of asking girls out in the elevator?" Meli asked, once we'd ordered. She'd taken off her jacket and the amount of tanned shoulder and cleavage she was showing was very distracting.

"Only the sexy ones", I grinned, raising my glass.

She clinked my glass and giggled, shaking her wonderful breasts as she did. She seemed quite conscious of the effect she was having on me, as she'd worn a very low cut dress. Hair-width straps kept the whole thing up and I could almost see the edges of her nipples where the neckline was cut very low.

"So have you been in town long?" I asked her, only half looking her in the face.

"Not really. I moved here from Sydney to take this job". 

Meli paused, noticing my attention was on her cleavage. She gave me a tiny smile and stretched the strap of her top, allowing me to glimpse the generous curve of her breast. She let the dress fall back into place, lower than before, before continuing. 

"So I'm hoping I'll make friends quickly. I'd get a bit lonely otherwise".

"Well, if ever you're in the mood to go out with someone, I'm available", I smiled, picking up her obvious hint.

"So you don't have a girlfriend?" she asked, sneaking a look at my ring finger.

"Well, I do", I said, pausing. "But let me tell you a little secret . . ."

I went on to explain to Meli that my girlfriend, Karen, was not that interested in sex and, in fact, wasn't the sort of girl who even tried to make herself sexy. As a result, I often went out with other women behind Karen's back, especially women who overtly exhibited their sexuality.

"Mmmm, that's interesting", Meli smiled. "You know, I've got a little secret too . . ."

My eyes widened as Meli told me how she'd worked for five years as an exotic dancer in Sydney and had moved cities to get away from a customer who'd started stalking her. 

"Well, that explains two things", I grinned, as Meli continued to play with the neckline of her dress, pushing it down even further, now so that the edges of her nipples were showing.

"What are they?" she giggled.

"Well, it explains why you're able to wear a dress like that in such a sexy way", I explained, staring at the substantial amount of flesh which was now sticking out above the neckline of her dress.

"And?" she smiled, letting one strap fall off her shoulder altogether, baring almost all of her left nipple.

"Why a beautiful girl like you was so willing to accept a lunch invitation from me", I laughed.

Meli laughed too as she adjusted her strap once more, re-covering her loose breast. "I'm glad I met you", she giggled, "Maybe if Karen lets you out one night, I can show you one of my other outfits".

+ + + 

A few days later, I bumped into Meli again in the elevator. As we ascended, I spoke quickly.

"Lunch again tomorrow? One o'clock, same place". Meli nodded and grinned. "Bring some photos of you in Sydney, too", I added, as she got out and, once more, I was able to admire her shapely butt, this time in tight camel-coloured pants.

The next day, at the café, I could see that she'd gone to some effort to dress up. Her dress was so short - and her black mules so high - she could only take tiny little steps, her feet were arched so high.

"Here", she offered, after we'd sat down and ordered. She held out a thick packet. 

My cock was already semi-hard from watching Meli sit in her chair, flashing a great deal of thigh, and dangling her little shoe off her toes with their dark-painted nails. Now these photos got me totally hard. They were of girls - including Meli - posing with guys in a busy club.

"I used to work with those girls; most of these photos are at parties we went to, not at work", Meli explained. "You weren't allowed to take photos at work".

Meli was wearing an amazing assortment of outfits: a keyhole skirt that showed the top of her shaved slit; a sheer pale blue dress tied at the sides with just a g-string underneath; a green leopard-print miniskirt with a matching boob-tube, both worn very low to show off more than most girls would; a pink minidress slit almost up to the armpit; a keyhole dress which showed most of Meli's breasts and belly. 

"My favourite's this one", I said, handing her a photo.

It was of Meli on the dancefloor: she had a tiny red skirt with a wide side slit, which had swivelled around, showing the smooth flesh underneath. The front of the top was held together with a single metal clip and her breasts were almost falling out. She was dancing in a very high pair of strappy silver shoes, laughing wildly, her long dark hair flying loose around her pretty face.

"You look like you're having fun", I grinned, looking at Meli until she caught my eye and giggled back at me.

"I'd like to take you out in an outfit like that sometime", I suggested, imagining the looks that Meli would get if we went to dinner, or dancing.

"I think I'd like that too", she replied, rubbing her little foot against my calf.

"Maybe Friday then?" I offered. Karen would be out of town for the weekend.

"Sure, why not?" Meli smiled, continuing to rub her foot against me.

As we left the café, Meli surprised me by taking my arm and squeezing up against me. I circled her waist with my arm, which she didn't resist and, as we caught the elevator together, she reached up to kiss me. Her floor came all too soon, and I watched her from behind, yet again, click-clack into her office as the elevator doors shut.

+ + + 

Until Friday night, I lived in a half-awake half-asleep fantasy world. Imagining Meli in some slutty little scrap of fabric, flashing her wet pussy to everyone, letting her tits swing free, gave me plenty of masturbate over.

"We'll go dancing at this Latin place I know", I told her on the phone.

"Oh good!" she giggled, "Latin dancing is so sexy! But I'll need a pair of shoes to dance in. Will you come shopping with me before we go out?"

I love women in high heels, so I eagerly said yes. "I hope you'll wear something that shows you off to the max!" I said.

"Mmmmm", Meli replied breathily, "I can probably arrange something for you".

I'd arranged to pick Meli up at her apartment around 8pm, find her some shoes before the shops close at 9, then head off for some dancing at Bar Salona. Being a little bit sneaky, I deliberately arrived about 20 minutes early, hoping that, like a lot of women, she wouldn't quite be ready and I'd see her getting dressed. 

"Hi there!" she said, opening the door just a crack when I buzzed. I could see she was wearing a long satin skirt and was holding her arm across her bare breasts.

"I'm a bit early - sorry", I explained, "But it beats driving around for twenty minutes".

"Come in", she said, opening the door a little wider. "I'm not dressed yet. You can help me though", she added, standing on tiptoes for a kiss, pressing her firm tits against my chest.

It was my first glimpse of her bare breasts and was well worth the wait. Clearly, she'd had some work done on them: they were nicely out of proportion to her tiny build and they stood up without any assistance. She knew I was looking at them as she turned and walked towards the kitchen with the air of someone who was well used to having guys stare at her body.

"A drink?" she asked, opening the fridge.

In her bare feet, she was shorter than I expected and, somehow, she seemed much more fragile. Her charcoal grey skirt was slit right to the waist so, as she moved around, her entire leg and hip was visible. In fact, the skirt sat so low that her hipbones were showing and I wondered how she kept it on at all.

"Here", she said, smiling, as she handed me a gin and tonic. 

She leaned with her elbows on the kitchen counter, just smiling at me. Because she was arched slightly back, her breasts stood out prominently and I noticed that the cold from the fridge had made her nipples stick out beautifully.

"You know, Meli", I said, with a straight face, "I'd love it if you came out dancing just as you are".

I expected her to laugh at my joke but, instead, with a little grin, she cupped her breasts in her hands and looked down at them. "If you like, I'll do it. I used to do it for money before; I might as well do it for pleasure now". She smiled her big white teeth at me.

"But I've gotta go put something on first, if we're going shopping, huh?" She winked flirtatiously and walked past me into the hall.

I followed, as Meli went to her bedroom. It was clear that, as she said, she hadn't been in town long: a futon on the floor, some clothes hanging on a rack and a full length mirror were all the furnishings she had.

"Who are these people?" I asked, seeing a whole bunch of photos stuck around the edge of the mirror.

"My friends in Sydney", Meli said, as she rifled through her rack of clothes.

Like the pics she'd shown me in the café, these were invariably of Meli - sometimes with other people, men and women - in various states of undress. One was of Meli, laughing, bending over backwards in a pair of platform shoes and a pink g-string. The g-string had slid aside, exposing her bare pussy.

"This one's pretty cool", I said, unsticking it from the mirror. 

"Keep it if it turns you on", Meli grinned. "What do you think of this?" she asked, holding up a top across her breasts.

"It doesn't look nearly big enough to wear as a top!" I laughed. 

What Meli was holding was a little top made of stretchy silvery fabric, long-sleeved with some ruffles. "Show me", I said.

Meli pulled the arms on and stood, the top hanging loose. There certainly didn't seem to be enough fabric for her to pull across her luscious boobs. 

"You'd just wear it like that?" I asked, incredulous that she'd be willing to go out shopping with her tits out.

"No, silly!" she giggled. "I tie it across the front, like this". 

She took two of the ruffles and tied them together below her breasts. As I suspected, the top only barely covered her nipples and left a yawning cleavage on show.

"Very nice!" I said, feeling my rock hard cock through my pants with my hand.

"That can wait, hey?" she giggled, seeing me touch myself. "I'll just put on some shoes and touch up my makeup and hair and then I'm ready".

She picked up a pair of high-heeled white mules from the floor and slid them on before heading to the tiny bathroom. Again I followed Meli, who was now five inches taller, and stuck my head around the doorway to chat.

"So, which shoe shop do you want to go to?" I asked, as Meli was applying her mascara. 

"There's one right near the nightclub strip we're going to. It's called Flirt. Do you know it?"

"Sure, of course", I said. The manager there, Mary, is a friend of Heidi's, one of my recent one-nighters.

"I bought this top there last week", Meli went on. "Do you think it's OK? My tits don't jiggle around too much in it?"

She shook her body and her generous breasts wobbled free of the tiny top. "For dancing . . .", she smiled, as she tucked her breasts back in.

+ + +

When we got to Flirt, I introduced Meli to Mary, who looked with intrigue at this glamourous girl on my arm.

"Meli would like to try on some shoes, Mary".

I'd only met Mary a few times, but each time, she got me horny. She's a very pretty Italian girl who manages to wear the trashy clothes that she sells with style. Tonight she was wearing a metallic blue halter neck dress clearly a size or two too small, as her breasts stuck out the sides quite noticably.

"I like the really high ones in the window", Meli said warmly. "In black please".

"These are seven inches", Mary said, taking them out from the display. "Can you wear such high shoes?"

"Yeah, I've had plenty of experience with shoes like these", replied Meli. Mary frowned slightly at Meli's cryptic comment and motioned us towards the fitting area.

Even trying on shoes, Meli managed to look sexy. She pouted and wiggled her butt and slid her skirt up her brown thighs. I wondered if she was wearing panties as her skirt moved up her legs, remembering the photo of her in the red skirt.

"Just to see if it they'd look good with a shorter skirt", she said, holding the hem of her skirt below her butt.

"I can bring you one to try on if you like", Mary offered.

"Alright, that'd be good. Bring me the shortest skirt you've got", Meli replied, with a little look toward me.

I smiled inwardly as Mary went off for a moment and returned with a tube of stretch fabric slung over her finger. She held it out to Meli. "Not the right colour, but it'll give you an idea".

"God, it's tiny!" Meli giggled as she unclipped her skirt. I held my breath for a moment as it fell to the ground, for I thought Meli was naked. Then I saw she was wearing a miniscule flesh-coloured g-string. She quickly bent over and wriggled into the pink skirt.

"That's our smallest one by far", Mary giggled. "Only six inches. Not many girls can wear those. I certainly can't!" She ran her manicured hand over her taut curvy butt.

"Where are you two off to tonight?" Mary asked idly, as Meli admired herself in the mirror. The skirt showed off her dancers' legs and even much of her firm butt as well.

"Could I wear this?" Meli asked, turning to me.

I just about came in my pants when I thought about the prospect of taking her out like that so I readily agreed. "Tell you what, Meli. You buy the skirt; I'll buy you the shoes".

"Deal!" she giggled, as she adjusted her skirt once more.

We settled the account with Mary, who put Meli's other skirt and shoes in a bag. Her new shoes brought her up to my height exactly and, as we walked the two blocks to Bar Salona, I was careful to take short steps so she could keep up. Her breasts jiggled in such high heels and I also noticed that the shoes made her butt stick out a little more than before.

"I've gotta pull this skirt down", Meli said, after a block or so, when a couple of guys had whistled at her. "I think it's the shoes making my butt stick out. It makes my skirt creep up all the time".

What she said was true. Just walking a block had made the skirt ride high up around her waist. When we passed under a street light, I could see her shaved slit through the g-string at the front - and so could anyone else walking in the opposite direction.


"I think it looks great", I smiled. "In fact, you hardly need a skirt at all".

"OK", she said, nonchalantly. "I'll leave it".

She kept walking, this time with an exaggerated wiggle of the hips. Of course, this made the skirt wriggle up all the way, so that by the time we got to Bar Salona, it was just a bunched up tube of pink fabric around her waist.

"You look so damn sexy, I could eat you up", I whispered in Meli's ear as the door bitch waved us through in front of the queue of people waiting.

"Later, honey, later", she giggled, gravitating straight for the dancefloor.

Lots of guys stared at Meli's daring outfit and quite a few grabbed her from behind on the way through. 

"Do you mind that?" I asked her, once we were dancing and my own hand was planted firmly on her juicy butt.

"Well, in a place like this, you gotta take it for granted. Plus, I'm kinda used to fending guys off, if you know what I mean", she replied, with a wink.

She danced in a very provocative way, too. Her breasts jiggled so that they almost fell free of her skimpy top - but not quite. Her butt wiggled outrageously and, from time to time, Meli would finger her g-string, pulling it tight between her legs.

"You know, this song was one of my favourites to strip to!" she squealed at one point, when a Ricky Martin song came on. "Come with me!"

She dragged me over to a vacant lounge chair and made me sit down. She kneeled between my legs and started writhing and moaning, as she pressed against me. I knew exactly what was going on, even though I'd never had a lap dance before.

"Hey, look at her!", a plump blonde girl, standing nearby, said to her boyfriend.

Within minutes, several people were gawking at Meli, who was becoming less and less inhibited every moment. She dangled the ruffles of her top in my face and, with my fingers, I gently pulled.

"Go on!" she said, pushing her chest out.

I pulled, and the top came apart easily. Her magnificent breasts fell free and I felt them press against my mouth and nose. My hands went to her butt and started playing with her g-string, pulling it aside. 

"Oh yeah!" Meli yelled above the music, as my finger found her pussy. She was as wet as any woman I'd experienced, as my finger circled her labia and clitoris. She leaned right back as she straddled my thighs, and ground her hips against my hand.

"She's letting him finger fuck her!" the blonde girl was saying. By now, she'd moved quite close and was virtually leaning down for a good look.

Meli seemed oblivious as she spread her legs further; two of my fingers entered her and curled upward to find her g-spot. Her toes and feet were arching with pleasure and she was moaning loudly enough for me to hear her above the music.

"That is such a turn-on!" the blonde girl continued to her boyfriend. She rubbed her own breasts through her almost sheer top and it was obvious she was very aroused. Her boyfriend, too, was getting turned on: his hands were creeping under her stretchy black skirt.

The blonde girl was obviously going to keep up her commentary, because she kept talking while Meli was in the throes of orgasm. Meli's pussy clenched tight around my hand and she shivered and trembled as her orgasm grew and, finally, peaked.

"Oh my God!" the blonde girl was saying, now with her erect nipples between her fingers. "Look at her!", she went on, as Meli released her hold of me with her legs and sunk to the floor.

I leaned over in my seat, above Meli who was lying still on the carpeted floor, among the drinking straws and paper napkins. Her eyes gradually opened and met mine. 

"It's been too long since a guy's made me cum like that", she said, suddenly struggling to her feet.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it", I smiled, staring at her glistening, pouting lips as she stood in her high heels, directly facing me. Meli fingered her g-string as if deciding what to do with it.


Old Habits



Well, here I sit looking out of the bars of my cell watching the world go by. I have had a good life. My Mum and Dad are still together. My Dad was a war veteran back in 2003, served his country. Got a medal for saving his squad in a firefight. I can still remember seeing the movie of the camp commander pining it onto his coat and saying, "You saved many lives that day." He spent the next two years over there. I was never lonely as I had many brothers and sisters to play with on a large farm. 

When I came of age I joined the army in 2006.

The drill instructor marched us out onto the parade ground, lining us up and said, "What you are joining is the best of the best, after I have finished with you, you will be the deadliest animals to face the enemy."

"You McMaster's, I knew your father, if you are half the animal he was you'll win the war by yourself."

We began our training to mould our bodies and brains into those of the deadly animals the drill instructor told us we would become.  

In my training we were taught to knock the person down, then attack the groin, throat or eyes as this was the quickest way to stop somebody. We trained like this till it became second nature, and we moved into this attack pattern on instinct. 

My training seemed to fly by and I was soon posted to the same squad that my father had served in.

On a day patrol we came to enter a house, intelligence believed to have insurgents inside. We surrounded the house. Me and two others entered through the front door. As we checked the room I sensed movement to the left. I turned and a man was pulling the pin on a hand grenade and tossed it in our direction. A flash and sharp stinging pains washed over my body, and then darkness. When I opened my eyes, I saw the man looking down at my two friends shooting them in the face. He then turned and smiled at me and raised his gun. I tried to move but nothing seemed to work, I looked into his eyes and waited for the bang. Next thing I heard was the rest of the squad moving into the room. The man ran out the back door.

A medic patched me up and sent me to the aid station where they worked to remove the shrapnel and stop the bleeding.

Two months later I was back home, recovered in body, but I was still seeing the man's eyes every time I closed my eyes to sleep. I then got the news I would be getting a discharge from the service as I had healed, but never healed enough for active service again.

I was debriefed, given training for a civilian life and given one last psychological test to make sure I had lost those killer instincts and would be able to cope in the world.

I moved back onto the farm with my parents for a little while.

I then met a lovely girl and moved in with her on my parent's farm. Even the eyes of the man had stopped disturbing my sleep.

The next couple of years were some of the best; I started my own family, got a good job in security at the docks.

Then one day I saw something which brought me to here.

I saw the eyes of the man who attacked and killed my friends. A red mist descended on me and my instincts kicked back in. I was moving before I released I was, and by that time I had decided to go with it. I hit him at full speed knocking him to the ground and bit into his throat. 

I found out later it had taken four men to rip me off his throat and subdue me.

The man died of massive blood loss.

The real kick in the guts came when I was told the government had allowed him into the country because he turned informer on the insurgents.

My family's lawyer tried to argue momentary insanity. Some of the men from my old squad came as character witnesses. The judge ruled against me and ordered me to be executed for my heinous crime.

Now you know my story and why I sit in this cell at the Queenpark Dog Shelter waiting for the man to come and lead me to the room at the end of the hall.

I guess some old habits die hard!

RCSA1



Old Habits



"Fuck," Allie muttered to herself as she watched her car keys fall out her hand and into a puddle underneath her car. She stared at them for a moment in frustration before sighing and bending down to pick them up. At least it finally stopped raining. She thought to herself, hoping it was a sign that things were starting to look up.

"Here, I got them," a voice that she'd never forget said, as she saw the hands that she used to know better than her own pick up her keys.

"Fuck," she muttered for the second time. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, allowing herself to calm down. After a couple of seconds passed she stood up and faced the man she worked so hard to forget.

"Allison, it's been awhile," he stated. She took in his green eyes, dark brown hair, and broad shoulders. There were a few changes. He no longer wore his hair in his signature shaggy style. Instead it was now short and spiked, a style that suited the fact that he was now twenty-five and no longer a frat boy. She also noticed that he was leaner and more muscular. In general, however, she could still tell that he was the man she once loved.

"Yes it has. About five years if I'm not mistaken. How have you been, Jason?" She asked politely, trying not to reveal how badly she wanted to just go home and relax.

"I've been good. I'm just here to take care of some business," he replied with his voice trailing off. Her dark eyes watched as his traveled up her body, pausing at her curvy hips, and again at her chest. Feeling unnerved by his stare, she shifted and crossed her arms.

"You look good too," he continued. "You cut your hair." He boldly reached out to tug at a curl that was now a good six inches shorter than he remembered it being. Allie could only stand there frozen. She did not want to go down this path again, but she couldn't help but be drawn to this man. 

"Yeah, I cut it to my shoulder last summer and decided to keep it. Much less of a hassle," she finally mumbled. Jason took a step closer and she tried to back up, but she was stopped by her car. Having trapped her against the car he moved her hand to touch her cheek. Allie closed her eyes and turned away, a tear escaping her eye.

"Allison," he murmured. "I missed you."

If this were five years ago, Allie would've found herself falling for Jason's charms and giving into what he wanted from her, be it money, food, or sex. However, it is the present and she finds herself pushing him away from her.

"Jason, stop," She told him, "I can't do this again. I'm sorry. I hope you have a nice life."

"I understand," he said emotionlessly, "we didn't leave off on the best terms last time. Good luck Allison." He then back away from her, turned around, and walked away. As Allie got into her car and drove off, she couldn't get the thought out of her head that there was a sinister meaning behind his final words.

When Allie got home she made sure all of her doors were locked, and settled into her normal evening routine. She had almost forgotten about her meeting with Jason, when she heard a knock on the door. She knew who it was and what he wanted, but she couldn't stop herself from getting up and answering the door. Maybe it's not him and it's someone who actually needs me. If that's the case I would be rude for not answering. She tried to rationalize, but she knew that behind that door stood Jason. She knew she would let him in. She knew that despite what she thought this morning, the past five years hasn't changed a thing when it comes to Jason, and in the second between placing her hand on the door handle and turning the knob, she knew exactly what he meant by the words "good luck."

"Hello Allison, may I come in," Jason's rich voice echoed in the empty hallway. Allie nodded meekly, opening the door enough for Jason to enter her one bedroom apartment. All I have to do is tell him "no". She tried to reassure herself. It was true. In the past he always told her that she just had to tell him "no, stop that" and he'd stop doing whatever it was that she didn't want him to. The thought did not reassure her though, because they both knew she wouldn't tell him that. Whatever power it was that always attracted her to him, also made her go along with his plans without a word of complaint.

She closed the door behind him and stood there as he walked around turning all of her lights and opening all of the blinds on the windows. Whatever it was that he had planned, he wanted the world to see. Despite her embarrassment at that realization she couldn't help but get excited at the thought.

"Would you like something to drink?" she offered, looking for a way to distract herself from guessing what Jason had planned. Her guesses were usually wrong anyway.

"Finally decided to be a good little hostess? No thank you, I'm not thirsty for anything you have in your fridge," he answered, licking his lips. Allie shrugged and got herself a glass of water. She wasn't thirsty but she could tell by the look in his eyes that he was planning something and she wanted to do anything that would maybe calm her nerves.

"Allison," Jason called suddenly, "you know why I'm here, correct?"

"Yes," the word came out of her mouth quieter than she expected.

"Good, now come here." She set down her glass and walked to the middle of her small living room where Jason was standing. Although there was a smile gracing his handsome features, his eyes were cold, and a small shiver ran through her body. Jason leaned in close to her.

"Now, sweetheart, are you ready to play?" he whispered before nipping at here ear. She shivered again, bit her lip, and nodded. "The rules are: you are not to speak unless spoken to, you are to call me sir, you are to do whatever I tell you, and if you break any of these rules there will be a punishment and you will not like it. The only time you can speak out of turn is if you tell me to stop. If you do that I will stop whatever it is immediately and I will leave. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," she replied immediately. Whether she wanted to or not, she found that she was eagerly awaiting what Jason had in store for her. Even though every game was different, this one seemed even more so than any others. This time there was no humor or eagerness in his voice. This time he was cold and distant. This time he was going to take back what was his, what he lost five years ago. Yet, Allie was still looking forward to playing with him again; a realization that disgusted her and excited her even more.

"Let's get started. Face that the window and strip please," he commanded. She turned around so that her front was to the window and started slowly removing her sweater, followed by the removal of her pants, her black lacy bra, and the blue striped panties that she had worn that day. She stood there, trying not to shiver from the sudden lack of warmth, and tried to forget that everyone on the street passing by could look up at her window and see her naked self.

"Good girl," Jason commented, coming up behind her and smacking her ass. The spank resulted in her shuddering in delight, and unconsciously wiggling her ass, wanting more. Jason chuckled to himself. "There might be more time for that later. Now let me get a look at the beautiful pussy of yours."

Allie turned around to face him, making sure that her legs were far enough apart that he could look between them without difficulty. She tried not to look at him in the eyes, which was easy since he was looking at her creamy white thighs, her wide hips, and her full breasts. She supposed he had a good enough look at her round ass while she was stripping. She allowed herself to look at his face. His eyes where filled with lust and his smile was greedy with desire. She suppressed her urge to grin. She still had some power over him as well. A moment later Jason was crouched down in front of her; spreading her apart some more for a better look at her shaved mound.

"Already wet for me," he told her, and then gave her a teasing lick. She had to hold on to him to keep balance due to the wonderful sensation his tongue filled her with. She let a soft moan out and he laughed at her again. 

"Be patient, sweetheart, there is still more to come," he promised her while he stood back up. "I need you to take care of something for me first. Now, on your knees."

Allie obeyed as Jason removed his pants and boxers to reveal his hard dick. He didn't have to tell her what to do before she got started. She started by licking the tip and then moving her tongue down the length of his dick and back up, alternating between a teasingly slow lick and a seemingly fast lick. When she licked every inch of his cock she moved on to take his balls in her mouth. While she concentrated on licking and sucking those she lightly stroked his shaft. After she finished her work there she went back up to suck on his tip, swirling her tongue around it, all the while she slowly moved her hand up and down his dick. Once she decided that she had done enough of that she looked up at Jason and began swallowing him until his entire dick was in her mouth. She carefully sucked on him, moving his cock in and out of her mouth while one of her hands played with his balls. She must have been moving too slow for Jason's taste because he grabbed her hair and forced her to go faster. In all her concentration she almost missed the sound of him moaning her name. Right when she could tell that he was about to cum, Jason pulled her all the way off his dick and shot his cum onto her face. To her surprise he was still mostly hard.

"No, don't," he told her when she moved her hand to wipe the cum off her face. "Leave it so I can be reminded of how much of a cocksucking whore you are. I think now it's time for the bedroom." She led him to her room and waited for more instructions. He surveyed the room and then nodded, as if he decided that it would do for his plans.

"Where do you hide your toys and such?" he questioned.

"In the bottom drawer of my nightstand, sir. If it's easier for you, you can take out the entire thing, sir," she reported. He nodded again, accepting what she just told him.

"Lay on your back on the bed," he told her. He then pulled out the drawer and examined what she had for him to play with. What he found were some condoms, six pieces of stretchy cloth, a box of disposable latex gloves, a small pink vibrator, a hyena dildo, and a pig dildo. He smirked, remembering buying the dildos for her all those years ago.

"Spread out," he demanded and she instantly complied. He picked up all of the cloth and tied her arms and legs to the bed so that she was laying there tied, spread eagle to the bed. He took a moment to decide if he wanted to gag and blindfold her, or just do one. He decided to just gag her, and wrapped one of the remaining pieces of cloth around her mouth, making sure she wouldn't choke, but also that she couldn't move her lips. He paused for a moment to admire this beautiful woman, spread open, vulnerable, and ready for whatever he had in store for her. 

Jason then reassessed what he had available for his use, and decided to put on a pair of gloves. He heard her gasp in delight as he used his gloved hands to touch her. He ran his hands up her thighs, around her hips, up her sides, before he reached her tits. He brushed his thumbs past her already hard nipples. Once he had done that he moved his hands back down the way they came, this time stopping at her pussy. There he ran a finger down her slit, and watched as she writhed the little that she could in pleasure, wanting more, her moans muffled by the cloth. He used this encouragement to continue. He ran his finger down her slit a few more times, enjoying her muffled moans and the way she was trying to move, wanting more. He flicked and pinched her clit a few times as she got more soaked with wanting. He used his other hand and inserted a finger into her hot and ready. She moaned louder this time, thrusting her hips at him as best she could, needing more and deeper.

"You're a dirty little whore, aren't you?" Jason asked as he flicked her clit again and slipped another finger into her pussy.

"Yes, sir, I am," he barely heard Allie moan, and felt his cock swell even harder than before.

He took off the gloves and decided not to use any of her other toys. This time he stuck his head between her legs and started licking. He licked up her juices the best he could and then sucked on her clit. He had one hand on her thigh, and the other stoking his dick when he moved to stick his tongue into her pussy. At the sudden feel of Jason's tongue inside her, Allie let out the loudest moan yet, and thrust her hips more at him. She was trying to grind against his face, because the fleeting licks and wiggling of her tongue inside her was not enough. She was so close to cumming, but he just wouldn't let her. When she thought she could take it no more, he left. She groaned in disappointment and he grinned at her wickedly. He didn't say anything but held up the condom he had just grabbed. That's when she noticed his large, swollen dick, looking like it needed to be right where she wanted it, inside of her.

The minute it took Jason to untie her legs, ungag her, take off whatever clothing he still had on, and put on the condom, was almost unbearable, but Allie managed to wait like a good girl. He positioned himself over her and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him. He leaned down to bite her neck while he teased her by only putting the tip of his dick in her. He ran his tongue down to her breast before taking one in her mouth and sucked on it. She moaned and squeezed her legs tighter around him. He started to enter her slowly, putting a little more of his dick in her with each thrust. It wasn't long before he picked up speed, her now clear moans encouraging him to move faster. When he could tell that they both were about to climax, he slowed back down again, grinding hard against her hips when his entire dick was in her pussy. He moved away from playing with her breasts to look at her in the eyes while he slowly moved in her. The look in Allie's eyes, the way she was moaning, and how her legs were clenching him tightly were begging Jason to pick up the pace, but she didn't dare say it out loud, fearing his punishment. 

"Beg me, Allison, beg me to make you cum. Don't stop until you do," he instructed her.

"Make me cum, please make me cum, come up Jason, let me cum, please," she started begging. He started up again, thrusting harder and faster as he went. Her voice raised and she could barely speak between moans but she kept it up.

"Come on Jason, please just let me cum, make me cum, right now Jason, please," her last please was drawn out and ended in a moan as she came hard. At the feeling of Allie cumming, Jason did as well, much harder than he expected. They laid there for a little while, catching their breath. Finally Jason got off of her and stood up. He threw away the used condom, and untied her hands.

"You did very well this time, Allison. Let's play again next time I'm in town for business," he said, as he picked up his clothes and walked out. 



Old Habits



Notes: I wrote this as a little gift for another forum.

---

One

Hey, listen: this the story of how I was sent to retrieve a trinket, and, like some wet-behind-the-ears shit-face, got caught at it. I like to think it's a good story, because I'm the best storyteller in the East. I used to be the best thief in the East, but that was a lifetime ago.

But keep an eye on your pockets, friend. Old habits, and all that.

----

The city of the Dōsjin, Tōlmarak, was an ogre-built fortress: all massive slabs of grey ironstone wedged together so tightly that an ant couldn't fart comfortably. The thing about ogre-built structures is that they're far more accommodating on the inside than they appear on the outside. They just look like that to drive away everyone except the brave...or the foolhardy.

My mam always told me that out of her thirty-two offspring, I was the most stupid. Maybe that's why the city didn't look so bad to me. It was either that or the fact that I grew up in a stronghold built by ogres, and still occupied by them. Half-ogre, that's me. I know, the grey skin is a dead giveaway, but the pointy ears? The all-black eyes? The lack of tusks? I got those traits courtesy of my elven father. He was what they call a shadow-elf, one of the crazy types. Who else would think it was a great idea to fuck an ogress twice his size? On top of that, he was a flighty asshole; as soon as he knocked up my mam, he was out of there like a hut on fire. 

She claimed I took after him. Never could keep still, and always managing to melt into the shadows when I stole some food or broke some of her pottery. I couldn't help it, that's just what shadow-elves do: take things, especially if they're really shiny, and then use their magic of concealment. What kind of magic? Well, take shadows, for example. Shadows have a lot more potential than most people think and shadow-elves, better than anyone else, know how to manipulate them properly.

I wasn't too concerned about getting into Tōlmarak, but the man beside me seemed pretty anxious. We crouched behind the scraggly bushes, watching the activity at the massive front entrance. It was made of two parts: a pair of mighty wooden doors, which were currently standing open, and a long drawbridge which crossed a moat filled with brackish water. Now and again, the dark water would ripple as the spiky fin of some smallish dragon broke the surface. All kinds of people streamed in and out; I saw a few fauns, some sea-elves, flittering fae, and even a cantering herd of centaurs. It was barely past dawn, and yet Tōlmarak was already wide-awake.

"Are you sure you can get in?" The man beside me asked. His name was Marce, and he was the 'prince' of the village that had hired me for this job. I glanced at him and shrugged.

"It's not barricaded," I pointed out, getting to my feet and adjusting my oft-repaired cloak. "I'll just walk right in."

He stood up as well. He was tall for a human, but I was slightly taller. I suppose he and I were the same age, but the lines in his brow made him appear far older than twenty winters. 

"But they might be keeping Marchel locked up in a special place," Marce said, wringing his hands together and blinking rapidly. "Are you sure?"

I got a little irritated, I must admit. I scowled at him, tossing my long braid over my shoulder. The messy black hair tickled the back of my neck.

"Look, are you sure?" I asked, folding my arms over my chest. "You know who you're talking to, right? I'm Ruzhyll Delance."

"I know your name," he answered, frowning in return. "No need to repeat it."

"Obviously I need to, 'cause you seem to be forgetting who I am. Who did the Red Legion call when they wanted to swipe the crown jewels from the Talon?"

"You," Marce said, through his blackened, contorted teeth. "So they say."

I narrowed my eyes. "They're damned right, too. And who stole that talking harp from the Giant in Cloud Forest?"

"You," Marce said, even more reluctantly than before. "All the same, I hope you're worth your deposit."

"You better hope you have the rest of my payment ready when I get back your sister," I said, stepping over the bushes. "Or else I burn down your whole village."

Marce let out an incredulous scoff, and I could understand why. I'm tall, but as skinny as a broomstick, with a narrow face to match; I have a serviceable pair of tits, nice and firm, but overall I look like I can hardly light a match. I've been told that my eyes are my most striking feature: a bit larger than those seen on a pureblood elf and tipped up at the outer corners. Apart from that, I suppose I don't look like much of a threat.

I stopped walking, and snapped my fingers, concentrating very hard. With some satisfaction, I watched as blue flame erupted on my fingertips. Not very big, because I don't have that kind of power; but Marce's village has a lot of thatched roofs. Very flammable. 

"Like I said," I told him very quietly as I looked over my shoulder. "I retrieve your kidnapped princess, you give me the rest of my money."

"Fine," he said, and he sneered as he folded his arms over his chest. "Get to work, half-breed."

If that was the best he could come up with, I felt kind of sorry for the future of his village. After all, any sensible village-head would demand a bond-gift from the Dōsjinni for their stolen girl, but most full-blooded humans hated the Dōsjin. I shook the flame from my fingers, and pulled the large cowl of my cloak over my head, putting my face into shadow. I felt my natural magic unfurl lazily and deepen those shadows, effectively shielding my sharp features from any close inspection. If necessary, I could do a quick glamour, but like the blue flames, that was magic I had to work hard for. It took a lot of energy out of me.

I walked right up to the end of the drawbridge, melting in easily with the busy in-going crowd. I even managed to slip my fingers into a few purses, earned seven silver coins, twelve copper and five gold. Not bad for a five-minute walk. 

The city was big, but it was easy to figure out where a captive princess would be held. A tower, of course, and for its great size, Tōlmarak had but one: a massive spire rising right in the centre of the bustling town. It took me half a day to get to it, and on the way I saw more and more Dōsjinni: tall warriors dressed in battle-armour, weaponry slung over their backs or worn low on their hips. The spire stood in the middle of a great stone-paved plaza, the main roads of the city radiating from it like spokes on a great wheel. The other buildings ringed the edges of the plaza at a respectful distance.

At the steps of the tower, I peered up the wide flight. A group of Dōsjin stood at the top, chattering companionably; they seemed to be returning from patrol. One of them turned their head, looked straight at me, and I felt a jolt rush through my body. She had dark brown skin, pale grey eyes, and curly black hair cropped short. Her nose turned up ever so slightly at the tip, and her chin was softly rounded; they served as an interesting contrast to the sharpness of her gaze and the heavy shape of her eyebrows. Like the majority of Dōsjin, she was built tall and strong: a whole head taller than me. She wore form-fitting armour, covering every inch of skin. Pity; I would have loved to see if her tits were as impressive as the rest of her.

She kept staring at me, and I decided to take a direct route. Pulling back my cowl, I smiled up at her, invitingly. She smiled back and, look, you hear people talk about love at first sight, that's shit. 

However, there's always lust.

I climbed the stairs, putting a great deal of swagger into my walk. The other Dōsjin, noting the fixed expression of the one still gazing, all turned to watch as well, but I barely noted them in the periphery of my vision. I couldn't seem to shift my stare from her. When I finally got to them, I executed a fanciful greeting: twirl of hand, deep sweep of arm into a bow. When I straightened, they all had similar amused expression on their faces.

"Greetings, ye mighty of Tōlmarak! I am Zorn the Amazing and Amusing," I told them, giving one of my many aliases. "I offer my services to you, at a special cost!"

They dipped their heads in reply to my exorbitant bow; for a race of ruthless fighters, I've found that the Dōsjin are deeply courteous when not in battle.

"What kind of services?" My Dōsjinni asked, her tone low. She had a massive, curved sword strapped to her back. I didn't let my gaze stray too close in that direction; it seemed sharp enough to slice my eyeballs out just for looking.

"General entertainment, Jiyiō. Minor trickery and the like," I said, sidling close to her. She smelled like weapon-oil and animal rawhide, and I picked the deep musk of her sweat. She laughed, a pleasantly deep sound, and I hoped my pronunciation hadn't been too awful. I knew a number of simple Dōsjin words and phrases; Jiyiō was one of the few I could pronounce without insulting someone's mother. I think it was a noble title of some sort, like Lady or Duke.

"I am no Jiyiō, my dear Zorn," she said, and her companions agreed with hard laughter. "You may call me Isthar."

"Isthar," I purred, going even closer to rest my palm lightly on her chestplate. She glanced down at my hand and then looked up, her gaze hot as it raked over my face. As far as I knew, the only type of magic most Dōsjinni possessed was the innate kind which aided them in fighting, and occurred to them as natural as breathing; they didn't deal with direct forms of magic, like curses and charms. Yet, I felt a powerful compulsion to just lie back, spread my legs like a reckless succubus and let her stab her tongue deep into my dampening sex. I parted my lips and one side of her generous mouth quirked up in response.

"Come, then," Isthar said and just like that, I was in.

Two

Nothing like a Dōsjin party, I tell you. Tables of steaming food, barrels of drink potent enough to melt your face and lots of soft surfaces to fuck on, if you wanted. I did have a show: Zorn the Amazing and Amusing had some talent with tricks and song, and I easily held the attention of the Dōsjin warriors. They laughed and roared with laughter at my lewd jokes, and I have to admit that I enjoyed myself. I don't mind having the attention of a crowd focused on me; that's probably more from my ogre side. Shadow elves are secretive as fuck. 

Near the end of my show, the huge wooden doors at the back of the grand hall swung open and a Dōsjinni of great stature strolled in. He was huge, even among his own people. His black hair fell in long waves over his shoulder, a thick sheaf that fell almost to his waist. He had a wide brow, deep-set grey eyes and a broad jaw. The overall effect was one of brooding mystery, especially with his brown skin, dark like the polished rare wood imported from the eastern borders. He wore thick furs over his broad shoulders and his dark clothing had gilt edges.

A large silver amulet hung against his chest. My fingers itched to swipe it, but he'd probably break my hand as soon as I reached for the shiny thing. I've heard that certain Dōsjinni can move faster than a blink.

A human woman walked beside the big Dōsjinni, her arms folded into the large sleeves of her fancy blue gown. She was tiny beside him, the top of her head barely reaching the middle of his thick bicep. She possessed curves that were probably illegal in some of the more conservative areas; the neckline of her gown plunged almost all the way to her bellybutton, exposing the inner curves of her breasts. She had lovely brown eyes, a heart-shaped face and a tumble of shiny black curls set against the soft amber of her skin. This was Marchel,the kidnapped princess; I knew her by the thin collar of tattoos inked into the skin of her neck which Marce had described. Though there was a vague resemblance between the two of them, it was hard to believe this sweet-faced girl was his twin. 

As I continued to amaze and amuse, I watched as the Dōsjinni led Marchel over to one of the seating areas, a low table surrounded by fluffy piles of pillows. Marchel didn't seem as terrified as Marce insisted she would be; she actually offered a small smile to the Dōsjinni as they settled down together. Isthar appeared out of nowhere behind them, bending to murmur in the male's ear. Her armour was gone, and she wore a loose, long-sleeved blouse and trousers. Isthar's gaze flickered up to me. She offered a small smile and I almost forgot what I was supposed to be doing; mostly because I could see right down the front of her blouse when she bent over like that, and her tits were fantastic: big and round, topped with dark nipples that looked as if they'd fit nicely in my mouth.

I struggled to regain my composure as she straightened up. A show was a show, after all. Keeping up a string of idle chatter, I picked my way over to Marchel and her companion.

"And now, for my final act!" I held my arms out to her. Marchel blinked up at me, before glancing at the Dōsjinni beside her.

"Viosthar, is it safe?" she asked in a quiet manner. I stared at her, surprised. Her tone was very trusting, and she addressed him as if she expected him to ensure her well-being.

"It is, sōheen." His voice was a confident rumble, and he smiled at her as he said that weird little Dōsjin word; it had a nice ring to it, that word. I resolved to learn the meaning of it before I snatched this girl and returned her to her village. In the middle of my resolution, Viosthar turned his grey gaze on me, and the threat in it was very readable: this trick of yours WILL be safe. I hoped my expression was calm and soothing, but I have to admit I was a little rattled. It seemed as if the enormity of stealing a princess from underneath the collective nose of the Dōsjin suddenly settled on my shoulders, but I threw it off. I'd get the job done, and my reputation would be so damned shiny, I'd probably have to steal it from myself.

Marchel gave me a very dubious glance, but she held her slender arms out to me. 

"Sit right there," I told her as I grasped her forearms and let my magic seep out into the room, seeking out the shadows hidden under alcoves and in the ceiling. "Don't move."

See, there are many things people don't know about shadows. For example, shadows have characteristics specific to the person or thing they belong to. I can't explain it, it's like a sensation or a scent...or maybe both at once. All I know is that once I touch your shadow, I can find it again within a certain radius and time-frame. And if I can find your shadow, I can find you.

Another example: shadows have a tangibility which can be manipulated by shadow-elves, and I did that now, pulling them close to me and piling them under Marchel's bottom. She let out a surprised little sound as she rose up in the air, supported by nothing but wispy darkness. She laughed, looking down at Viosthar with shining eyes and the other warriors in the room released out loud cheers. I grinned as I gave the command for her to be returned to her spot; at the same time, I touched those shadows nestled in the crook of her elbows, memorising the particulars.

The crowd of Dōsjin hollered as Marchel floated back down to her place. When I released her arms, she clapped very enthusiastically.

"That was wonderful!" she exclaimed and leaned into Viosthar's side, staring up at me with a broad smile. "Do you have any more tricks?"

"I am finished for now, for it is quite late," I told her, noting the way Viosthar put his arm around her shoulders, very gently for his apparent strength. "But if I am allowed, I will present more tomorrow!"

Marchel turned to Viosthar, one small hand twisting into the furs he wore. "I would like to see more. May the entertainer stay?" 

Viosthar's arm tightened very slightly and then relaxed. "Of course. Isthar?" He turned a little, not quite looking over his shoulder. Isthar stepped forward. "Place the entertainer in our guest quarters." 

"As you wish, Jiyiō," Isthar answered and looked at me with what seemed to be contemplative amusement. "If you would follow me, Zorn."

I trotted behind her as we exited the great hall and down a corridor, tall and wide. Small torches lit the way at regular intervals, firelight branding the stone walls. Despite the attempt at lighting, this spire had lots of shadows, and I nodded to myself in satisfaction.

"Isthar, what does sōheen mean?" I had to race to keep up with her; even though I was almost as tall and my stride should have matched hers, she moved like a swift breeze down the corridor. I was at a jog when I spoke, and my voice emerged breathlessly. She glanced at me, quirked one sweeping eyebrow and slowed her pace drastically.

"It means..." She wrinkled her nose for a moment. "It has many meanings, mostly endearments. 'Darling' or 'lovely'. It's a very old word, though. Powerful."

Interesting. "And is Viosthar your brother?" I grinned as she gave me a very long look out of the corner of her eye.

"You ask a lot of questions."

"It's all a part of my natural curiosity," I claimed, eyes wide in an attempt at guilelessness. "They're harmless questions, though. Much like me."

Isthar huffed, but answered: "Yes, he is my brother. As the first-born of the Dōsjin sovereignty, he is the Jiyiō. Not me." She stopped at a place where the corridor split into two: one path led onwards at the same level; the other climbed the sweeping curve of a wide staircase. She inclined her head to the smaller corridor. "The guest quarters are this way."

I reached out and grasped her elbow. "One more question," I said, stepping near. Her skin was warm under my fingers. "Are you really going to send me to the guest-rooms, and not take me to bed?"

I was close enough to see the narrow, vertical pupils of her eyes widen to almost completely consume the grey of her irises. The smile that spread across Isthar's mouth was predatory.

"Let's see how amazing and amusing you really are, then," she murmured, gripping my hand and pulling me towards the stairs.

----

Isthar shoved me against the wooden door of her private room as soon as she dragged me in. I managed to unhook the strap of my travelling pouch and let it drop to the floor just as my back hit the timber. She grasped my chin and kissed me, groaning into my mouth as I shifted one thigh to push against her crotch and slung the other leg around her hip. She rocked against my thigh and I jerked back from the kiss with a surprised gasp.

"You have a little something extra, I see," I said, half-accusing, half-teasing. Her soft laughter puffed against my lips before she kissed me again, her tongue swirling into my mouth. Her hands gripped at my bottom, holding me in place as she ground what felt like a massive prick against my leg. I pulled back, panting. "I thought you were female. Your face--" I stroked her jaw, enjoying the feel of her shadows. To me, the shape of her face seemed more feminine, what with the slant of her cheekbones and her full lips.

"For a Dōsjinni, there is no such thing as 'extra'," she said, pulling back. I shuddered at the loss of contact. My nipples were hard enough to drill through the stone wall surrounding us, and my pussy felt as if it was dripping. She smiled as if she knew how wet I already was. "I tried being fully male last year. Didn't like it too much. You may think of me as mostly female, if that's of any importance to you."

"I admire that kind of flexibility," I told her as she pulled me towards the fur-covered bed in the middle of the small room. She yanked off my cloak, the shirt made of a rough weave and my loose trousers, tossing them to one side. She laughed a little at my drawers; they were old-fashioned and a shade of pink that used to be red, but I liked them because my mother had made them for me. Well, she'd made them for someone, and I'd stolen them before leaving my childhood home. I like to think that my mam left them out on purpose. 




Old Habits



Isthar knelt before me, undoing the lace of my drawers and letting the soft material drift down my legs. I stood naked before her in all my slender glory; I raised my hands and gave my tits a firm squeeze, looking down into her lust-blown eyes. I'm sure my smile was very smug, for she got to her feet and pushed me, hard. I tumbled back onto the soft furs with a disgruntled cry, legs sprawling open as I struggled to right myself.

"You--!" My complaint dissolved into a needy moan as her hot tongue ran a hot, wet stripe between the lips of my pussy. I grabbed onto the sides of her head, twitching my hips almost helplessly. Isthar actually laughed, and the sound seemed to vibrate right through my clit. She grasped my wrists and pinned them down at my sides, Her grasp felt as if it could snap my bones, but she didn't squeeze too hard,even as her tongue swirled and jabbed inside me.

It was better than I ever had, and I've had a lot. My body hummed under her touch. Every time she fluttered her tongue rapidly against my pussy-lips, or gently tapped my clit, I arched my back and begged, trying to get more of her tongue. I writhed and tried to free my wrists, but her hold was unrelenting. 

I let out a stream of breathless, nonsensical pleas. "Isthar," I begged, only vaguely aware of what I was saying. "Please, sōheen. Come up here and fuck me."

Isthar reared up as if I had kicked her in the face. Considering that my legs had been draped over her shoulders, that situation wasn't an impossibility. Her lips were shiny, smeared with my juices and her spit. 

"What did you call me?" she asked, staring down at me with an odd expression. I blinked, my mind still in a haze.

"I...what?"

Her lips pressed together briefly, and she shook her head. She sat back on her heels between my spread legs. I sat up as she pulled off her shirt, and I didn't wait for an invitation: I reached out and cupped her tits almost reverently. The grey skin of my hands contrasted nicely against the smooth brown of her skin, and I leaned forward to suckle on one nipple. Isthar hissed as I bit it lightly and then licked around the hard, thick teat. I pulled back, gazing up at her as I switched to the other tit, flicking my tongue against the crinkled flesh.

"Good girl." she murmured, undoing my braid and running her fingers through my long hair. I closed my eyes and sucked a little harder, reaching into her trousers to fondle her cock. It was hot in my hand, and hard, but the skin was delightfully soft. I stroked it a few times, using my thumb to smear around the pre-cum oozing from her slit. I enjoyed the huge length of it, and fondled the heavy balls. I'd never had another dick so big in me, and I shook with eagerness.

Isthar pulled my hand away with a grimace, as if in pain. "Lie back, Zorn," she said and shoved down her trousers, taking them off. I nearly said who's Zorn, and just barely managed to keep my mouth shut on that one. For a free surprisingly agonizing beats, I debated telling her my real name. I'm called Lujankir Ruzhyll Delance, I would say. Lujankir from my mother. It means Small One. Ogres don't usually share the names their mothers gave them, unless it's a special situation, like a spell to quell a demon or to build wards...or to share with a special person.

Her gaze remained fixed on me as I did as she asked, but I couldn't help go up on my elbows to watch her grip her cock at the thick root of it. I inhaled deeply; the deep, sharp smell of her, no doubt helped by the thick thatch of dark hair at her crotch, was intoxicating.. She gave her thick dick a few slow pumps, and I felt my cunt spasm in anticipation at each pull of her hand. She crawled over me and I spread my legs even wider, wanton and panting as she rubbed the flared head right between my wide cunt-lips. I wrapped my legs around her hips and tried to pull her in, but she braced one hand at the side of my head and resisted, laughing.

"So impatient, Zorn," she murmured, pushing into me at an agonizingly slow rate. My breathing quickened, for her cock was so thick that it stretched me almost to the point of pain. It was a snug fit, almost too tight. As she pulled back it felt as if my insides tugged in her wake. That prick of hers emerged from between my cunt-lips, darkly shining with our mingled essence. Isthar shoved back up into me, faster than before and with a low grunt as my inner walls clenched around her throbbing pole. 

I clamped one hand over my mouth, stifling my high-pitched whimpers as she thrust into me over and over again; both of her hands gripped the furs on either side of my head as she pounded my pussy. Sweat beaded along the places our skin touched, spreading damply. Her nutsack slapped against my skin, and the feel of it drove me wild.

"Move your hand," Isthar gritted out and I shook my head. I didn't like being loud, even during a nice fuck. Abruptly, she pulled out of me and before I could cry out in protest, I found myself flipped over: ass in the air, cheek planted into the bedcovers. Isthar worked quickly: she seized my wrists and held my arms behind my back with one hand, buried her cock back into my hungry snatch and gripped the back of my neck with the other hand. She held me in place as she went back to plundering my tender insides.

I heard someone shouting hoarsely, cursing and begging at once. Apparently, that someone was me: "Isthar, fuck! Nnnngg, harder. Harder!" I sobbed as I tried to wriggle out of her relentless hold, but she didn't release me. I think that if I clearly asked her to let me go, she would have; but it felt so good to be pinned down, her prick battering my snatch as I tried to free myself. 

"Isthar, yes! Oh--oh--I'm cumming--" I didn't have any more space for coherence. My toes curled up as pure sensation radiated from my core and spread to all parts of me. I moaned her name as I thrashed within her grasp. She held still for a few moments as I shook apart, impaled on her rampant pole. The furs rubbed against my erect nipples and that sensation added to the pleasure-filled moment. Isthar released my wrists and grabbed my hips. Weakly, I moaned and barely managed to grip the bed-covers as her rhythm dissolved into wild bucking. With a final, harsh thrust, she went rigid.

Isthar's load flooded me with shocking warmth. I twitched feebly, startled at the quantity of it: It didn't seem to stop, and I heard her grunt with every pulsation of her cock. Some of her release seeped out of me, even though her prick still plugged my hole.

She sighed as her spent cock slipped out of my cunt and a gush of cum spewed out after her, splattering on my thighs. Exhausted, I slumped over to lie on my side, kicking out irritably as she stroked at my over-sensitive labia, smearing around the sloppy mess even more.

"I'll stay here for the rest of the night," I told her, grabbing one of the many fluffy skins covering the bed and wiping at the spend between my legs in the most perfunctory way. Throwing the fur in an arbitrary direction, I reached up to sling my arm around her neck and pull her close. Isthar shifted us around until we lay with our arms around each other, my leg thrown over her hip.

I found myself stroking the curve of her ribs, and placing quick kisses on her collarbone and shoulders, drowsy and well-fucked. 

"Sleep, sōheen," she muttered, and how easy it was to follow her voice into slumber.

Three

I woke up about two hours before sunrise, and found that I'd rolled to the edge of the bed. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes, ignoring the sharp twinge in my thighs as I got up. I glanced over at Isthar's prone form; she lay with one hand stretched out in my direction. She shifted and mumbled as I slipped off the bed. I had good night vision, and it adjusted quickly enough for me to search for my clothing and pouch. Dressing swiftly, I set off through the door, pausing as Isthar grumbled again and then fell still. I experienced a convincing urge to just go back to bed; I could wake Isthar and get her to finger me, probably grease my asshole and give me a solid fuck. My cunt throbbed just at the thought of it. I pressed my lips tightly together and firmed my resolve: I had a job to do. I had to get paid, a reputation to uphold and all that.

As I stood outside Isthar's door, I recalled the impression of Marchel's shadow. In the center of my mind, I felt a very persistent tug: like a compass, it directed me to the left, and from the strength of the pull, I could tell that she was near. I slunk along the corridor, pausing twice when the watch made their rounds. I simply stepped back against the wall and let the shadows fold over my body, hiding me from sight.

Viosthar's door wasn't locked, for who would try to break into the room of the Jiyiō, right in the middle of this spire? I closed it behind me with nary a click and surveyed the huge bed in the center of the sizable room. Cool air drifted through the open, arched windows which overlooked the great plaza many levels below. I spotted Viosthar's nude bulk, and just as naked atop him, Marchel sprawled like a satisfied cat. When I took a step, Viosthar flinched as if I'd tossed dirt in his face, and I froze; and one muscular arm wrapped over Marchel's voluptuous body. She wriggled a little and then went quiet once more.

The big Dōsjinni obviously slept light, but I could move lighter. Taking another step, I raised my arms and swept them slowly through the air, coaxing the shadows to do my bidding. They came forth willingly and I directed them to pack themselves around Marchel. It was painstaking work, and all my concentration was bent on gently lifting his arm, high enough that I could began to float Marchel from atop him. I left a Marchel-shaped clump of shadows in her place and then stood still for a few beats. A slight frown had gathered between Viosthar's heavy eyebrows and for a moment I thought he would awaken. Then, his scowl smoothed out and I exhaled silently.

Turning, I gathered Marchel's sleeping form in my arms, wrapped and padded by a thin layer of shadows. I hurried to the windows and I don't know, maybe it was the cool of the night-breeze or the way I moved, but Marchel twitched in my arms.

"What--" Her voice was heavy with sleep, but when she turned her head and stared at up me, her eyes were wide and aware. "Viosthar!"

A thick roar rose from the bed behind me and I didn't give myself a chance to find out just how quickly the Dōsjin moved. I spun around, almost losing hold of Marchel as she tried to throw herself out of my grasp. I flung out one hand at Viosthar even as he leapt towards us. He almost got to me in that single bound, but the shadows under my power snagged his arms and legs. His body jolted in mid-air, and he thundered again as the shadows dragged him back. I thought I heard a thread of panic in his voice, but I had no time to ponder over that; I grabbed the struggling Marchel with both hands once more and hauled her out of a window, the edge of the stone sill scraping my leg.

She screamed as we fell, but the shadows had already begun to take care of us. They wrapped around my waist, anchored to the sides of the spire, and began to slow our descent. They released me as I touched down on the top of the stairs right in front of the main entry and I ran down them with Marchel thrown over my shoulder. As I sprinted across the plaza, the shadows flowed along the ground around us, keeping pace easily. The ruckus started up behind us, shouts and the war-cry of horns. Glancing back, I spotted a group of Dōsjin gathered atop the stairs, Isthar at the very front. She had a length of fur wrapped around her waist, as if she'd dragged it off our bed.

I stumbled at how I'd thought about that: our bed. That was my first mistake. The other one was to allow disbelief to rush through me as I watched Isthar notch an arrow into a bow. She drew it and pointed right at me without hesitation.

At the same time, Marchel gave a mighty heave and you know, I blame Isthar for everything that happened at this point. A thin whistle was my only warning and then the arrow buried itself into the back of my right shoulder. Crying out at the blast of pain, I let Marchel fall. She tumbled to the ground and shouted as she landed. I distinctly heard the sharp crack of a bone breaking and hoped that it wasn't in her neck. Humans were so frail.

In the midst of my pain and dismay, I lost control over the shadows. 

Now, don't look at me like that, my friend: it happens. Well, it's happened to me before, but only under extreme circumstances, such as being shot in the shoulder with a very large arrow. I'll admit that my half-blood status might have something to do with it, but I'll tell you this: I'm leagues better at manipulating the shadows than any full-blood elf. Why, when I went to a shadow-elf stronghold after I left my mother's home and those snotty assholes refused to take me in because I was only a half-breed, I stole into their bastion with ease. I caused a good amount of damage, too; enough that they hired a dragon-mage to construct wards against me. 

But, as I said, it happens. The unfortunate thing about uncontrolled shadows is that they can get hysterical. They simply don't know what to do, really. The ones around me reared up and then pounced on Marchel.

"Stop!" I cried at them, but they ignored me, piling on Marchel's naked form, wrapping tightly. She hadn't broken her neck, not from the way she tried to flail, but the shadows muffled her cries and I'm sure they began to stop her breath.

I didn't think. I reached over my shoulder and dragged out the arrow. Blood dripped down my back, and my vision blurred as I focused on the wooden shaft. For a brief beat, I felt dread's icy touch in the pit of my stomach as nothing happened; then, my blue flames erupted along the arrow, almost setting fire to my cape. 

"Sorry, my dears," I muttered right before I thrust the bright light and heat into the twisting mass of shadows. They shrunk back and I managed to exert my control over them once more, sending them fleeing back to their proper places. Marchel, thankfully alive, struggled to sit up. She trembled, cradling her limp left arm with her right, gazing at me with wide eyes as I collapsed to my knees.

"Why?" she whispered as Dōsjin fighters stampeded up to us. "Why did you try to take me from Viosthar?"

"I was contracted to bring you home," I told her, and then curled up on my side on the ground because it seemed like a very good idea. "By your brother."

Her lovely face twisted in dismay and rage. "I won't go back to him! I ran away for a reason!" She set her jaw. "I am home!"

"There goes my deposit, then," I muttered and groaned as the Dōsjin seized me, and dragged me to my feet. They showed far more care to Marchel, wrapping thick swaths of cloth and fur around her. Then, they dragged me around to face Viosthar and Isthar, who stood there with matching stony countenances. "Oh. Hello there, sōheen."

It was hard to miss the intake of breath from everyone around us. Viosthar actually turned to give Isthar a long, questioning stare. Isthar's chin tilted up a fraction and she cut her gaze away from mine.

"Take her to the dungeons," she commanded. "Make sure there's lots of light. And get Coisha." Her tone was clipped. She turned away from me, and I got a bit angry at myself because I felt my heart sink as she walked away. Also, Coisha. If I'd known she was in the area, I would have never come near this damned spire. As I've said before, the majority of Dōsjin possess innate, implicit magic, but when they have direct abilities, they're strong. Dragon-mage strong, and Coisha was the best of them.

After all, she had been the mage to ward me away from the shadow-elf stronghold.

---

Coisha laughed in my face as we sat facing each other in the brightly lit dungeon. There might have been a thousand torches blazing along the walls and fat candles arrayed on the floor. There wasn't a shadow in the room. I perched on a low stool, glowering at Coisha as her hands clutched my wrists, tightening the bronzed bracers against my skin. She chuckled as she checked her binding charms, which suppressed most of my own powers. Coisha sat back and grinned at me, then dissolved into more helpless laughter.

"I'm so glad that this all amuses you," I said, my tone stiff. I tried to yank off the bracers, even though I knew that I simply didn't have the ability to counter her charms. Coisha kept snickering, wiping amused tears from her cheeks. Coisha had the kind of face that was very old and very young at the same time. Her face was almost as narrow as mine, but the rest of her features appeared overly large for her face: big round eyes, with that vertical pupil of the Dōsjin; a large, hooked nose and very full lips.

"It's very funny. Ruzhyll Delance, Scourge of the East," she said, still chortling. "Finally caught!"

I bared my teeth. Whenever she put up a ward against me, I couldn't go within leagues of a place without feeling as if I would explode. Knowing Coisha's strength, it was possible that I would shatter to pieces if I took those kinds of chances. It was fortunate that her services were expensive, or else I'd be out of a job. Unfortunately, Coisha had more knowledge of me than I felt comfortable with.

"I know you're better than this," she said, most of the good humour now wiped away from her features. I sighed; this was a well-worn refrain, coming from her. "Lujankir--"

"Don't call me that," I snapped. My ogre-name was her key to warding me away from places; she managed to wrangle that out of my mother, many years ago. Coisha gave me what appeared to be a sympathetic look. 

"My apologies, Ruzhyll," she said and then rose, putting her chair to one side. Her many layers of gold jewelry clinked against each other and I glanced at them tiredly. I didn't have the urge to steal them; that was probably a part of her damned binding spell. She placed a heavy hand on my shoulder and I forced myself not to cringe away from the weight of her power. Her magic hauled at my wound, which the Dōsjin had already cleaned and dressed to the best of their ability. I winced as the flesh knitted together. 

Right after Coisha finished patching me up, she said, "Your mother once told me that she wished you could find your way home."

I frowned and tried to shrug off her hand, but she didn't move it.

"She's doing well," Coisha murmured. "The healing potions you sent for her bout of ash-pox were very helpful." She paused, waiting for me to answer but I offered none. Coisha sighed. "I've told the Jiyiō and Isthar that I've known you since you were a child. I've asked for leniency in your sentencing."

"I don't need your help," I snarled at her. "And I hope you haven't told them my ogre-name."

"Why would I share such a thing?" Coisha's tone was coy as she extinguished most of the candles with a wave of her hand and then shifted them to create a clear path to the metal door. I sensed the presence of the shadows as they settled within the corners again, but my magic was reticent behind Coisha's charmed bracers. "It is up to you to choose what you want to share."

"Coisha--" I started, but I fell silent as the door swung open. Viosthar and Isthar strode in, They both wore the same type of simple garments: a long, loose shirt over dark trousers. Viosthar held no weaponry, but Isthar still had her bow. I gave that bow the most accusing stare I could manage, then included Isthar in that glare. She stared back at me, woodenly.

"Jiyiō Viosthar," Coisha called and conjured an intricately carved seat right out of mid-air. She set it down in front of me, and smiled benignly as he sat down. "And Biriyō Isthar, you may have my chair." Coisha dropped me a very surreptitious wink. "Biriyō means 'general', Ruzhyll."




Old Habits



"You sit down, Coisha, I'd rather stand," Isthar told her, her gaze still locked with mine as the dragon-mage reclaimed her seat. "So. This is the infamous Ruzhyll Delance."

I didn't feel like dredging up a leer at the moment. I simply looked her right in the eye and said, "It was a pleasure making your acquaintance earlier, Biriyō." 

Isthar's expression did not change, but Viosthar seemed to gain an air of delighted interest.

"You kidnapped Marchel, and then you saved her life." He tilted his head to one side. "You are an unusual thief."

Shrugging, I dropped my gaze to the bracers on my wrists. Though they were already fading from view, they were really still right there, intangible and effective. They would remain for as long as Coisha had commanded, severely restricting my abilities.

Viosthar continued to speak, but he seemed to be musing to himself. "I suppose we will visit Marchel's former village and force them to accept the bond-gift they've refused. Although, Dōsjin culture demands that they give my family a bond-gift as well." A slow grin crossed his face. "I do hope their compensation is sufficient for the Jiyiō."

I was far too tired and heartworn for any more talking. "What is my punishment, then?"

He laughed. Coisha laughed. Isthar glowered.

"Well, that is a good question! How should I punish my sister's sōheen?"

Thoroughly confused now, I glanced at Isthar for an answer, but her expression was very sour. She appeared as if she would rather be anywhere else but inside this room.

"It's just a term of endearment," I ventured. "Isn't it?"

With a huge smile, Viosthar said, "Is that what she told you? It can be that, yes. But it is also a word of great power. Generations ago, it was accepted that a couple could undertake a marriage-bond after uttering those words during intimacy."

Isthar crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. I gaped at all of them. 

"It really should not apply here," Isthar muttered and her brother shook his head, still grinning.

"As Jiyiō, I accept and bless this union." He clapped his big hands once, as a priest would. "And now: your punishment, Ruzhyll Delance. You are to remain within the company of your sōheen for five seasons, and your magic will remain restrained until you prove yourself worthy of trust."

"Why am I being punished as well?" Isthar mused. Viosthar disregarded her dry comment completely.

"You will live as a Dōsjinni," he intoned, gaze skewering me. "If you die, you die as a Dōsjinni. This will be your home, and you shall cleave to it. And if you cause any harm to Marchel ever again," he continued in a dangerously conversational manner, "I will kill you."

I swallowed, hard. Without my magic, I had no way to protect myself even if I did manage to escape the Dōsjin. No matter what my mother said about me, she really did not raise a fool.

"I accept my punishment, Jiyiō," I said and clasped my hands the way Coisha had showed me when I was very small, pressing the knuckles of my thumbs to my forehead: the Dōsjin manner of showing respect and gratitude. I didn't raise my head even as I heard their seats scrape the stone floor and footsteps going towards the door. The hinges creaked, the door slammed. I sighed, raised my head and then let out an exasperated groan.

Isthar had remained, sitting on the stool her brother had left behind, one leg crossed over the other. For a long moment, we stared at each other. 

"Many thanks for not killing me outright," I said, tonelessly.

"You're welcome," she replied, in the same flat manner.

I tried for a smile. It felt weak on my lips. "I don't suppose I can convince you to fuck my ass now, can I?"

Her dark eyebrows twitched upwards. I felt a warmth bloom in my stomach and cunt as a lascivious gleam lit her eyes as she murmured, "You might not need to work too hard at convincing me."

---

The fat head of Isthar's cock stretched past my lips, and I ran my tongue around the underside. She fucked my mouth slowly, straddling my face and pinning my hands over my head the way I asked her to. My asshole clenched around the greased wooden phallus which had been twisted up into me. Drool dribbled down my chin as her cock sank deeper, stroking the back of my throat. I choked, eyes watering and Isthar's cock pulled out of my mouth with an obscene pop.

Sliding down my body, Isthar tugged out the heavy fake prick and placed her hot cock right at my back hole. She pushed my legs wider and back, shoving her cock inside me. I gasped, mouth hanging open as her thick pole tunnelled deep. She set a frantic pace almost immediately, and I clawed at every part of her I could reach, twisting her nipples and gripping handfuls of her short hair. Isthar reached down between us and fingered my leaking quim, biting that curve where my neck and shoulder met.

"More," I begged and Isthar pounded into me, twisting the length of my hair around one fist as I cried out sōheen, over and over again. I couldn't wait for the deluge of her cum, and she didn't disappoint. With a hard, sharp thrust, she filled me with a hot rush, both of us grunting and bucking like wild animals. 

"I would appreciate it if you didn't fire any more arrows at me," I said after we cleaned up and settled under the furs. "I find that I'm not really a supporter of that."

"Then don't leave home," she retorted, lining up her warm legs against mine. "And I won't have to."

---

So, that's the story, my friend! Not bad, eh? I told you I was the best storyteller in the East. Just so you know, 'Lujankir' is not my ogre-name. Why would I tell you my real ogre-name? That would so silly of me.

Oh and while you were listening, my sōheen has finally found this wonderful bandits' cave of yours. It annoys her so when I get myself kidnapped, but I can't help being a fantastic target, can I?

Surrendering is a wonderful idea, I agree with you. Just lie down, friend. I've seen her use that sword, and you don't want to get in the path of that blade. 

Oh, and here, I picked your pockets while you kidnapped me. There's your lockbreaking set, very nice. I'd keep it, but I'm not in the business any more. Alright, here are the jewels you'd stolen as well. Isthar will make me give them back anyway.

Old habits, you know. They die real hard.

End



Old Habits Ch. 2



In the story, "Old Habits" I described how I met Meli, the sexy girl who stripped off at the Latin bar where we went dancing one night. The title of the story came from the fact that she used to be an exotic dancer who'd relocated cities and become a travel agent in my office building.

"That was so much fun!" she said to me, as we lay in bed together, the morning after our adventure. 

Meli lay sprawled in the sunshine on her bed, her tanned body glistening from the sex we'd just had. She fingered her pussy idly and murmured softly.

"Still horny?" I asked, noticing her slim finger circling her clit.

"Always horny!" she grinned. "But hungry too. There's no food here. Can we go out for breakfast?"

"Let's go down to the beach," I suggested. "It's a hot day and there're some good coffee bars down there".

I watched Meli's large breasts sway as she got up and went for a shower. While she dressed, I did the same. I was towelling my hair dry as I walked back into the bedroom and what I saw made my cock stiffen immediately.

"Wow, Meli!" I exclaimed.

"Like it?" she giggled, twirling around. 

Her summery outfit was made of crocheted lace: a knee-length skirt, through which her tanned butt and legs were clearly visible; and a matching bikini top which held her firm breasts high. She'd pulled on some white high-heeled strappy mules which emphasized her dancer's legs.

"No panties, huh?" I grinned, stroking my cock, which was now sitting straight out in front of me.

"Do I turn you on that much?" Meli giggled, as she slid her skirt up her thighs to show me her smooth slit and did a little dancers' routine.

My cock was rock hard and, as I watched Meli, I stroked till I almost came. She was clearly enjoying putting on a show for me; she licked her fingers and teased her nipples through the bikini top and then started pulling on her pussy lips.

"I want you now, babe!" I said, moving towards her.

"Breakfast first!" she giggled, letting her skirt fall down and holding me from her with one outstretched palm.

The thought of going out in public with Meli in such a provocative outfit kept my cock hard as I reluctantly agreed and stretched my pants on. 

"No underwear for you either, huh?" Meli giggled, as she sat on the bed, her skirt back up around her waist, stroking her pussy again.

"You don't stop, do you?" I laughed, after I buttoned my shirt and tied my shoes. "C'mon, let's go," I pulled her up off the bed by the hand.

Meli's apartment is only a short walk from the beach, so we slowly took our time, looking in shop windows as we went. My arm circled Meli's slim waist nicely and, from time to time, I slid my hand underneath her skirt and held her warm butt.

"What are you doing?" she laughed, as I occasionally would push the waistband of her skirt down a little.

"Just giving you the sexy belly-dancer look," I smiled. 

Meli stopped in front of a shop window that gave a good reflection. "Like this?" she giggled, pushing the waist of her skirt down so far that the top of her butt was visible and, from the front, some of her pussy as well.

"That's great!" I laughed, hardly able to contain my arousal.

The woman in the shop - which sold antique furniture - had spied Meli and was craning her neck for a look. 

"And is my top OK?" Meli giggled, fingering the edges of the crocheted fabric. "It could use an adjustment, too, couldn't it?"

"What do you mean, exactly?" I asked, as I held Meli from behind. My hands went to the waist of her skirt and started pushing it even further down. In the window reflection, I could see her delicious slit come into view as the crocheted fabric moved down.


"Look at her!" Meli murmured. Sure enough, the woman from the shop had moved so she could see what we were doing.

Meli started to stroke her breasts, moving the crocheted top aside and, pretty soon, her breasts were entirely exposed. I moved one hand from her pussy to her tits and started rubbing her nipple hard. My cock was pressing into Meli's rear as she ground her butt into me.

"Take me here, please!" Meli whispered urgently.

As it was morning, there weren't too many people around and the few who did walk by didn't seem to notice anything other than a couple hugging each other looking into an antique shop window. Still, I couldn't see how it was possible for me to pull my raging hard-on out right here.

"I can't!" I whispered back. "Let's go back home, babe".

"No, I've got an idea!" Meli whispered. She took my hand away from her breast and pulled her top back so it covered her. Using the shop window as a mirror, she also adjusted her skirt so she was barely decent.

"Come on," she motioned, as she took my hand and opened the shop door.

+ + + 

"Good morning!" Meli said brightly to the woman, who looked surprised. "My boyfriend and I were just looking at that beautiful gilt mirror in the window. How old is it?"

She was a stiff and formal, but attractive woman in her late 30's. She wore a knee-length velvet dress that showed off her shapely calves. She paused for a moment, before replying. 

"Well, we think it's 1880's. Probably from Germany". 

"How much is it?" Meli went on.

"It's $5500," the woman replied. 

"Oh, that's too much for us, isn't it honey?" Meli said, clinging to my arm and pressing her heavy breast against me. As she did, her finger stroked her cleavage, attracting the woman's eye.

"Do you have anything similar around half that price?" Meli asked.

"Yes, we do. Come with me," the woman said, her high heels clicking on the polished wood floor.

She led us to a second room, furnished like a nineteenth century gentleman's parlour. As we followed, I noticed Meli's hand stayed at her breasts, stretching her bikini top so her nipples were only barely covered. Playfully, I put my hand on her butt, too, and pushed her skirt down another inch or two as well. 

Still with her back to us, the woman pointed out a large ornate mirror in a frame. "That one's $2200. It's turn of the century, probably French".

When the woman turned and looked at Meli, she started to say something, but gulped instead.

"It's very beautiful," I commented. "What do you think darling?"

"Mmmm," Meli said, almost as a moan. "Do I look nice in it? That's the main thing!" She burst into a little fit of giggles.

The woman glanced disapprovingly at us, but couldn't keep her eyes off Meli's chest. "Is that the sort of thing you're looking for?" she finally asked, in a thin voice.

"Yes, it is . . .," I started to say, before Meli interrupted.

"I've got a bit of a strange request," she said, facing the woman. Meli stood with her hands on her luscious curvy hips, sliding her skirt down fractionally once more. Her breasts pushed out against her bikini top and were almost working their way free as she jiggled her chest.

"What's that?" the woman asked, staring hard at Meli's bosom.

"I'd like to see myself naked in the mirror before we made a final decision," Meli said calmly.

I was just as stunned as the woman, for two reasons. Firstly, that Meli would so blatantly ask to strip off; secondly, that she implied we were serious about spending over $2000 on an antique mirror. Still, I thought, it's her game, so I remained silent.

"Well, that is an unusual request," the woman replied, after another of her pauses. "But I'll have to stay here with you".

I looked at the woman, wondering about that last remark.

"For security reasons," she said, with a thin smile. "I hope you understand".

"Darling," Meli said, "Can you help me?"

I wasn't sure what sort of help she needed in pulling off two extremely skimpy pieces of clothing but I was more than happy to assist. I leaned my head over Meli's shoulder and she writhed her body against mine.

"Caress me," she whispered, as we both looked at Meli's body in the mirror. 

My hand stroked her bare belly, as Meli pushed her chest out. First one breast, then the other, fell free, as she jiggled them. Through the mirror, I could see the woman watching, just a few steps behind us, obviously transfixed, her pale face now with an attractive blush to it.

"You're very beautiful," the woman said suddenly, taking a step towards us.

"Why thank you," Meli said, smiling at her through the mirror's reflection.

I untied Meli's top and let it fall to the floor. Meli moaned and arched back, rubbing her breasts with both hands. My own hands went to her skirt, as I kneeled and pulled it slowly to the floor.

"She likes to show herself off, as you can see," I laughed, hoping to get a smile out of the shop assistant.

A tiny smile twitched across her lips and her hand seemed involuntarily to move to her own velvet belly. I remained kneeling behind Meli and slid my hand up her smooth thighs. She parted her legs as my hand found her warm wetness.

"Step aside, Meli, so your skirt's out of the way," I said, wanting to see her in all her naked glory.

I looked across at the woman, to see if she was getting anxious. She certainly wasn't: her eyes hadn't moved from Meli once inch and her hand was stroking her belly quite obviously.

Meli stepped out of her skirt and stood, legs apart, looking at herself in the mirror. My fingers went higher and probed her lips apart; she was very wet, like she'd been in the Latin bar, and I now knew that this public exposure is what turned her on more than anything. For a minute or two, she writhed and moaned while I played with her glistening pussy, but then she stopped suddenly.

"Can we sit on that sofa?" Meli asked, pointing to a leather Chesterfield facing the mirror.

The woman paused but then nodded silently. Her eyes were wide open and her cheeks flushed but, otherwise, there was no way of knowing what she was thinking. 

"Ooohh, good!" Meli giggled. "I love the feel of leather against my pussy!"

She took the two steps over to the sofa and straddled the thick padded arm, facing us, grinning widely, while rubbing herself hard against it. 

"Oh, my God!" she moaned, closing her eyes and rubbing her breasts. "That feels amazing!" She leaned back until she was reclining fully on the arm of the large sofa. Her legs dangled either side and her pussy was staring at us like a crumpled rosebud as Meli's fingers entered.

"Do you mind her doing this?" I quietly asked the shop assistant.

She quickly shook her head and returned her gaze to Meli. "Do you just watch her?" she asked me almost in a whisper.

"What do you mean?" I replied.

"Well, I get the feeling you two do this regularly as a turn-on. Am I right? What's your role?"

"His role is to fuck me!" Meli giggled. She was still lying back on the fat padded arm of the sofa. 

The woman blushed bright red, but didn't respond. My cock was about to bust out of my pants and I figured that no objection meant no objection. I unzipped my pants slowly and watched the woman as my hard cock fell free.

"Oh, my goodness!" the woman gasped quietly, as her hand went to her chest. She remained immobile watching me walk toward the reclining Meli who was moaning loudly.

"Meli, babe," I said quietly as I approached. 

"Please, please, please," she begged, in a giggling little-girl voice that I found incredibly arousing.

She wriggled her little body towards me, as if to receive my swollen prick. I leaned down towards her writhing hips and tickled her glistening folds with the head of my cock.

"Please!" she almost yelled, wrapping her slender legs around my butt and pulling me into her. 

I entered her quickly. Meli gasped and her eyes opened wide as I felt the tip of my cock touch her cervix. I almost came immediately, Meli had got me so horny in the shop, but I held still for a moment.

I looked around at the woman to gauge her reaction to this; she was still standing where she was, breathing heavily, staring. Her hands were together, kneading. I felt my urge to orgasm subside, so I started moving in and out of Meli. For the next few minutes, I thought of nothing but the sensations of being inside Meli.

Until I heard a little sound behind me.

I turned to see the woman had sat down in a matching Chesterfield tub chair and was fingering herself through her underwear. Her dress was up around her waist and her hand was hard between her legs. I smiled.

"You've got great legs," Meli said, who'd also noticed the woman touching herself.

"Oh," the woman said, blushing brightly once more, and stopping her masturbation. 

"Don't let us stop you," Meli giggled, as she wriggled her hips, and clenched my cock hard. That wriggle and clench did it. I spurted inside her what I had left after our morning's - and previous night's - lovemaking.

"That did it, huh!?" Meli giggled uncontrollably, as she withdrew my softening cock and leaned up on her elbows to watch the woman.

"Are you done?" the woman asked Meli, somewhat wistfully. 

"I'm never done!" Meli said in a sly little voice, slinging a leg over the sofa and reclining on its seat. She'd left a 'snail trail' of sexy juices all over the sofa's glossy leather arm which the woman looked at. For a moment, I though she was going to rush off to get a cloth to wipe it but, instead, she looked at Meli and spoke.

"You two can stay if you want. We're not busy on Saturdays till after lunch usually".

I wasn't sure what her invitation meant and wondered how to reply but, as usual, Meli cut to the chase.

"You should come over here" she suggested, in her beautiful quiet way. Meli stroked her soft breasts and lay back on the sofa. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Marcia," the woman said, standing up. She looked nervous, but excited.

"Are you married, Marcia? A boyfriend?" Meli asked, as she parted her legs slightly. 

"Neither," Marcia replied, "Not for a long time". A look of sadness crossed her face as she said this.

Meli continued to part her legs until Marcia could clearly see her pussy, still wet from our sex a few minutes earlier. Meli took Marcia's hand as she moved to the sofa and gently placed it on her slit.

"Is that nice?" Meli asked, curling her lips in a playful smile.

"I've never touched another woman," Marcia said with a deep blush. Suddenly, she looked beautiful.

"Only a man, huh?" Meli said, winking at me. 

Marcia looked at my hanging cock, which responded by twitching once or twice.

"Make me cum, Marcia," Meli said in her hypnotic, sugary voice. "Please. Just do what you do to yourself".

Marcia knelt and licked her fingers. I took a step closer to watch. Meli's rosebud was wide open and glistening like it was coated with oil. Marcia started to gently massage Meli's pink lips.

"Ooohh, yeah, you got it, honey!" Meli murmured, as she stretched herself out, inviting Marcia's hand.

Marcia's kneeling figure attracted me, bent over Meli's delicious pussy and I moved closer still. I touched Marcia's hair gently. She turned around briefly and smiled, her first obvious, unashamed, show of pleasure.

"Do you mind?" I asked.

Marcia shook her head and turned her attention back to Meli's sweetly dripping honey box. I wondered what Marcia would do if I ran my hands down either side of her slender velvet hips. Only one way to find out, I thought.

"Oh my God!" Meli yelled. Marcia had hit the spot, obviously.

My hands caressed Marcia's shapely butt and I was surprised that she responded by pushing it towards me. Then, from a kneeling position, she got on all fours, moving her face into Meli's folds.

From here, I simply couldn't resist. My cock was hardening once more as I lifted Marcia's dress above her waist. She was wearing semi-sheer panties without stockings. I traced my fingers around the elastic of the legs and pulled them gently down.

"You smell great, Marcia" I said, as I pressed my nose against the wisps of hair I uncovered. She was wet. Very wet.

A little wriggle of her butt followed and I moved my tongue to her creamy lips and started nibbling. A little tremor moved through Marcia's body. But still she kept at Meli who, by now, was crying out loudly.

From my limited experience of Meli, I knew she was about to come. My cock was fully hard again, too, and with Marcia's pussy, shiny right at my nose, just there, I couldn't help myself.

"Oh, yeah!" Marcia moaned in a deep husky voice as I pressed the head of my cock against the folds of her vagina.

I pushed until the head of my prick was inside her. I wanted to go slowly but Marcia had other ideas. She bucked back against me until I was half in and contracted her pussy tightly.

I almost came when she did this - like I did with Meli earlier - and knew that I wouldn't hold on for too long. So I started sliding in and out gripping Marcia's hips with my hands, pulling her hard towards me. Her own hands moved to her clit and started playing with it too. Obviously she wanted an orgasm and knew what she needed to do.

"Oh God!!!!!" Meli finally yelled, at such a high pitch I'm surprised that French mirror didn't shatter.

Marcia giggled and I laughed, as we watched Meli's relaxed body slump. Now we could concentrate on ourselves.

"It's been a while, huh, Marcia?" I asked, starting a steady rhythm, gliding in and out.

She turned her head marginally and I saw her cheeks were still beautifully flushed bright red. "Longer than you can imagine!"

"So you want to become our sex slave then?" I laughed, feeling my cock expand inside her.

"If it's like this, I'd consider it," she replied, in her business-woman's tone of voice.

She was still fingering her clit and I knew I was going to come soon. I told her so.

"Go on then," was all she said.

By now, Meli was sitting somewhat upright. Her naked body was shiny with sweat - and other fluids - and I was turned on by both Marcia's svelte body still in its velvet dress and, of course, Meli's superb nakedness.

Marcia wiggled her hips in a way which made me come hard. Although there wasn't much in me left to spurt, the orgasm felt powerful, strengthened by the 'forbidden' aspect of fucking Marcia in her shop with Meli watching.

A moment later, I think Marcia came too. I say "I think" because I wasn't sure. Her body twitched while I was still inside her and she let out a little moan. Then she slowly withdrew from me and kneeled once more, leaning on the sofa's arm near Meli. She was back to the Marcia from earlier on - impossible to read.

"Well, was that fun?" Meli giggled. "We'd better get dressed. You've probably got work to do, Marcia".

Meli struggled to her feet and plucked her skimpy garments from the floor. Marcia stared as Meli slid into her skirt and adjusted her top, again examining herself in the French mirror.

"I like this mirror, hon," Meli murmured to nobody in particular.

Then she turned to face the still-kneeling Marcia, who'd pulled her dress down but hadn't put her panties back on.

"Marcia, would you accept $1800?" 

Marcia was still for a moment before she gave a tiny nod. I thought, too, I saw a little smile at the corner of her lips.



Old Habits Die Hard



In the interests of catching up after so long, R and I decided to revisit one of our old haunts, have some drinks, and get to know each other again. I was immediately at ease in his company; as if nothing had ever changed. So we put the world to rights for a couple of hours, put away a couple of bottles of merlot between us, and before we knew it it was midnight. He'd always had this particular way of looking at me with one eyebrow raised that made me feel like I was dissolving from the inside. All of a sudden, that look was there again.

"Wanna go?" he said "I'm a gentleman, I'll walk you back."

"Sure" I replied "You can call a cab from mine." 

So we made the short journey back in almost silence, walking just slightly too close to eachother but not touching.

Once inside, I went to the kitchen to get us another drink. I stood there for a while, looking at the glasses, wondering if I was reading this situation all wrong just because I was so consumed with a lust that I hadn't felt for him in a long time.

Then suddenly I could feel him behind me. Again, so close that I could feel the heat from his body radiating through the thin fabric of my dress but he wasn't touching me. Then his fingers gently brushed my right hip and I felt a surge running up my thigh so powerful that I may as well have been electrocuted. I remained frozen to the spot, unsure what to do next, becoming acutely aware of my breathing which was so shallow and rapid that I was starting to get light-headed. Then his hand on my hip became more forceful and took the decision of what to do out of my hands as he turned me around to face him. Before I realised what was happening he was kissing me. His mouth tasted of wine and cigarettes and a familiarity that made me feel so safe that I knew I was going to let him do whatever the hell he wanted with me that night. His hands slid back, squeezing my ass, pulling me against him. I could feel him getting hard against my stomach.

He stopped just then, and gave me the raised eyebrow again. This time, I turned wordlessly and walked into my bedroom. He leaned against the doorframe and watched me as I pulled my dress off over my head, revealing black lace French knickers and bra that I had been wearing in the hope of just this situation arising. We stood and looked at eachother for a while, then I walked over and pulled him into the bedroom - one hand in the back pocket of his jeans, the other undoing his belt. In one strong movement, he held me hard up against the wall. He started kissing my neck, which he always knew drove me crazy, and while still holding me with one hand his other pushed the lace knickers aside and he slid his fingers into me. I had to bite my lip to stop from moaning with pleasure and he whispered in my ear

"I used to love how wet I could make you. Turns out I still do."

With that he let go of me and pushed me backwards on to the bed. He sat on a chair at the end of the bed and said

"Play with yourself. I wanna watch"

I was so hot by this point, I didn't need asking twice. My left hand played with my nipple, which was by now so sensitive it almost hurt - but in a good way - and I ran my right hand over my ribs down until it slipped under the lace and I started stroking myself. It felt so good to touch myself like that, knowing that he was inches away, watching me the whole time, that I nearly lost it several times, but each time I got close I slowed it down - I wanted to make this last. He got off the chair and leaned over me, kissing my stomach and pulling on the ring in my navel. Then he said "Make yourself come" and pulled the French knickers off, pausing only to lick my wet fingers before throwing them on to the floor. I was ready to do as I was told. I loved knowing he was watching me. Seeing him getting more and more turned on was really doing it for me and as I slid one finger inside and rubbed my clit with my thumb I knew I couldn't do anything about it anymore and waves of pleasure crashed over me, making me shake.

Exhausted and still shaky, I turned my head to see the reaction of my audience. R was looking at me with an intensity that made me weak, but that also provoked the primal side of me and I took off my bra and sat astride him on the chair, loving the fact that he was fully dressed and I was wearing nothing at all. I'd given up all control to him, but I had never felt so powerful. He ran his hands down my back, pulling me closer to him and I took off his t-shirt. His bare skin felt amazing against mine and for a second all I wanted to do was get him naked but then I remembered that this was all part of the fun. His hands slid round from my back, and stroking my left breast he licked my right nipple, flicking his tongue over it so expertly that I couldn't keep quiet any longer and moaned with delight, arching my back against him. He smiled at me and said "You always did like that."

I decided that he'd had his fun with me - it was my turn. I pulled him by the hand out of the chair and undid his jeans. He sighed against my ear as I brushed my fingers against his hard cock. I sat him on the end of the bed and got on my knees in front of him. This was always my favourite part. I gave him a wink and started to lick him, slow and controlled at first, but after a while I was at him like a condemned woman having her last taste of a man before the call to death row. I took as much of him in my mouth as I could, his hands were in my hair, pulling it just hard enough for it to hurt slightly because he knew I loved it. I looked up at him and kept his gaze, there's nothing I love more than looking a man in the eye while his dick's in my mouth. He told me to stop. I didn't want to, but I knew he wouldn't have stopped me without reason and I didn't want this to be the end of it. Not yet. I pushed him backwards so that he was lying on the bed and I crawled up him, kissing his chest, his neck, right the way up to his mouth.

I took first one of his hands then the other and held them above his head. He knew what I was doing.

"You're a dirty girl" 

"You love it." I replied

I held his hands down and rubbed myself against him, not giving him what he - or I - wanted for a few seconds. But then I couldn't wait any longer, I lowered myself onto his cock and moaned, half with pleasure and half with relief. Moving my hips really slowly I teased us both, not wanting to go to fast and wreck it. He felt so amazing inside me, I never wanted it to end. He pulled me down and sucked at my nipple. I ran my nails down his side, feeling the muscles in his back tense up. He smiled at me again.

"That's it lady, you've had it."

He pushed me off him with considerable force and flipped me over so that I was on my knees on the bed. He grabbed my hips and forced himself into me from behind with such vigour that he nearly knocked me over. It was exactly what I wanted. He pounded into me, pulling my hair occasionally then reaching his hand around to stroke my clit. I knew I wasn't going to be able to handle much more of this. I wanted to keep it going but it was just too good, the muscles in my pussy contracted around his cock and I screamed, shuddering with ecstasy. It obviously worked for him too, because almost at the same moment he came and collapsed on top of me. 

Crawling out from underneath him, I laughed. 

"How many times have I told you not to give me that look if you don't want to find yourself in trouble?"

He raised the eyebrow at me again. 



Old Habits Never Die



The taste of her permeated Daniel's senses as he gazed at the solitary figure standing in front of him. He had not touched her, had not even said a word as memories from a bygone era flooded his senses reminding him of the forbidden fruit that stood before him. The perfect drug: euphoria, mania, depression, madness, happiness, sadness all in one size 10 package. A drug to which there was no cure from, a drug to which he would wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat with a pain deep in his chest. Am I suffering from a heart attack? He thought to himself. What is this pain that rapes my heart repeatedly? Like a scalding knife cauterizing his heart from the inside-out. A drug to which he wanted more of. Yet he did not know why. I wake up wanting more and I go to sleep wishing death upon myself to free my mind and soul from this endless cycle of pain. Yet, here she is, standing before me like a manifestation from my dreams and nightmares materialized before my very eyes. In the doorway of my bedroom to make matters worse. He wanted to touch her, touch that delicate mocha brown skin once again and tell himself that everything was alright. Lie to himself once again that the past will not predict the future. But he knew that deep down this was not the case, past mistakes could never be forgiven and bad habits can never be accepted. Like a drug addict seeking a fix telling him self that tomorrow will be a different day. 

Daniel looked at the girl in front of him; Josephine, she had stayed silent this entire time as she looked at him. Her coffee brown eye's gazing deeply at him trying to find the words to say something. She looked as though she herself was struggling with her own personal demons. He looked into her eyes seeking answers to unsaid questions. Redemption? Condemnation? Thoughts of preceding times together swept through his mind again. Images of naked limbs, entangled upon each as the strong scent of sex filled his olfactory senses, and the pleasure, yes the pleasure. Intoxicating his senses beyond relief to a point of no return. As if observing another person rather than himself he watched in disbelief as he walked up to her. His appetite needed to be satiated, an animalistic desire had taken over him, he had no control; like a shark tasting the scent of blood sending them into a feeding frenzy he too was beyond control. No rationale thinking could stop him now. 

He took a step towards her, as she drew in a breath, her voice barely a whisper against the rustling of their clothes.

"What are you doing? We can't..." her voice trailing away into silence as their eye's locked. He had the look of steel in his eyes, the kind that did not respond to no.

"Why are you here?" Daniel asked.

".... I-I don't know." She replied

His hand ran across her delicate cheekbone's and across her almond shaped eyes; their eyes looking at him with confusion initially, the cinnamon colour of her iris turning a shade of dark sepia before returning back to its original colour. She too was fighting her own demons, and like him she had lost to them. She had just not known that yet. His delicate hands ran through her gossamer like hair, relishing in their silken smoothness as her hand ran down his spine, sending shivers of pleasure throughout his body. Her scent, a delicate mix of cinnamon and spices filled his senses as his tongue delicately probed her satin skin until her scent filled his taste buds with their exotic complexity. The girl sighed in pleasure as her hands ran against his body, here fingernails lightly grazing him with their sharpness; the plastic sounds of acrylic against flesh the only sounds heard besides the faint suckling of his own tongue against her lustrous skin. He could feel her heart beating faintly, its staccato rhythm spurning him on to explore further pleasures.

Daniel embraced her, his hands moving across her clothing as he pressed himself against her, his erection straining against the tight confines of his jeans. Josephine bucked against him as she slid against the growing tent in his pants. Her hand stroking his inner thigh in soft delicate strokes.

He grabbed her shirt with both hands, ripping it open in one sudden movement as buttons sprayed the room like shrapnel from an explosion. Her firm full breasts bounded forth from their material restraints as they hung delicately before him, restrained only by the thinnest of bras. A Black laced bra- its design screaming unspoken amounts of money as delicate gold thread interweaved itself amongst embossed black thread intricately designed as small flowers and snaking vines snaked its wire edges. The thin lace material in places offered glimpses of the hidden treasures of flesh beneath. His mouth found hers then as his tongue parted her lips their tongues crushing each others in desperation, weeks of pent up frustration erupting into a climactic show of passion. His hands moved to her back, freeing her bra with a flick of his wrist as her hands went to his pants. The sounds of her nails against his metal belt combined with the rustling sound of his removal of clothing resonating through the room. Freed from their material hindrances her breast stood proudly before him. Their dark areola's framed her copper skin as her nipple's stood out erect and proud. 

Daniel's hands circled the dark hardened nipples as he affectionately squeezed her nipples between his thumb and forefingers. The sudden attention to her already rigid nipples caused an involuntary sharp intake of breath from her before she removed his underpants in one deft movement in response. His hardened member sprang forth from its material constraints. 

Josephine's hands snaked down to grasp his rigid member, her fingernails clicking in unison against one another as she began to tug at his member with increasing urgency. Daniel's eye's rolled back in ecstasy as an involuntary groan escaped his lips, breaking the unending duel his tongue was involved in with that of Josephine's. He opened his eyes to see her on her knees before him, her lips already swallowing him, encasing his member in a world of liquid euphoria. Daniel could only moan incoherently as he ran his hands through her hair as her eyes remained on him throughout this. Engorged veins pressed against her silken lips, sending them both into a world of bliss as she moaned in rapture, her tongue flickering against his head before sliding back along his engorged veins she could feel herself getting wet and found herself needing release very soon.

As if in answer to her building pleasure Daniel extricated himself from Josephine's wanton tongue, albeit with a small amount of regret. He pulled her up off her knees before pushing her onto his bed; she fell with a small cry of surprise but was unable to react as he was on top of her before she could move at all. His hands deftly removed her pants with her assistance as his tongue kissed her breasts, enjoying the familiar musky taste of her sweat. Josephine went to remove her underwear, the last item of clothing that remained on her pert figure, black and lacy it was a match for the bra, with the intricate lace design offering glimpses of her dark mound that lay beyond. She went to push them off herself before he stopped her, his seductive smile causing her to pause. 

Daniel moved towards her mound, his head moving in a sweeping motion as his hands spread her legs wide apart. Starting at her knee he began to caress the flesh of her inner thigh with his tongue, the musky smell of her sex permeating the air as he neared her mound. His uninhibited tongue moved down the silken expanse of her thigh tracing circles as he crept closer to her centre. Her breathing became harsh as his face hovered inches away from the black lace, the anticipation of things to come overwhelming her need for release. He swooped back to the top of her other knee, nibbling his way back down to her centre only to continue to the other leg. Ignoring her moans of pleasure and whimpers of pleadings as her hips bucked violently towards his face. He held her hips down with one hand as his other continued to cosset her other breast, his fingers grazing her hardened nipple. Without warning he drove his face into her thin laced underwear, his tongue lashing out against the thin material covering her core as his lips slid rhythmically against the sodden material, tasting her through his tongue as her smell intoxicated his olfactory senses. Josephine sighed in pleasure as the built up pleasure reached its final climax a washing her with its euphoric rapture.

Wetly, heatedly she dragged him up as she slid her way down his body, her legs already parted as he slid into her smoothly, her legs locking to the base of his spine as she ground her hips against his, as they thrust into each other in unison. Daniel felt himself shudder in pleasure as he felt his phallus become encased in the silken expanse of her tight confines. Their lust turning into a manic hunger for each other as their pleasures radiated throughout each others body, all inhibitions lost as their pelvis's ground up against each other in unison, the frenetic friction of this sending tremors of pleasure that irradiated down their legs, before spreading up through their body from below. Josephine's legs splayed wider as he began to fill her deeper, the feeling of him filling her as he continued to pump at an increasing rate. The spark that had began deep within themselves coming ablaze into a burning inferno as the sensations increased. 

Josephine locked her ankles against the base of Daniels spine to slow him down, pushing him over while still maintaining him deep within her silken confines as she rolled to resume a position on top of him. His back arched forward so they came to rest in a sitting position as Josephine ground her hips in circles against the base of his cock. Daniels tongue lashed out at her erect nipples, as he laved at her nipples, taking each of them deep into his mouth. As she started to slide up and down his length, his thrusts in time with hers driving him even deeper within her. Josephine arched her back in ecstasy as her breasts pushed even deeper into his mouth, her nails scratching the length of his muscular thighs as she reached behind her to cup his swollen balls. The silken skin heated at her touch as she massaged him while grinding against him. Her inner muscles contracted in time to her impending orgasm as she felt him thrusting against her with increased desperation. He clamped down on her nipples with his teeth as he came, sending hot jets deep inside her as this set off her own orgasm as she came at the same time, her swollen clitoris throbbing from the grinding and the unexpected intermingling of pain shooting through her body from his teeth on her nipples. Their groans reverberated around the room as they collapsed against each other in a heap entangled with the sheets of the bed. The pleasure subsiding to a pleasurable buzz as they dozed in each others arms. At peace with each other for the first time in months.



Old Habits



"You don't need that, do you?" I smiled.

"I suppose not", she giggled, as she moved closer to stand between my legs.

As her salty aroma wafted to my nose, I pulled the wet fabric down her hips and thighs and she gracefully stepped out of it. 

"C'mon. Let's dance!" Meli said.

With one arm, she pulled me up; with the other, she roughly pulled her skirt down.

"It's not quite down far enough", I suggested, noticing that her pussy lips were visible from behind as we took a few steps.

"Does that matter?" she giggled as she turned her head, blowing me a kiss.

Like I'd done so many times in the elevator, I again had the pleasure of watching Meli's delicious butt ahead of me as she led me to the dancefloor. 

But I smiled to myself because - this time - it was bare.