9 comments/ 12605 views/ 1 favorites Sin By: PrincessFlit *She had waited sometime, lingering at the back of the church cleaning the pews with a soft cloth and lemon wax. Why did she come here every Friday night when her friends were out at the bars, having fun and living life the way most women her age did. Closing her eyes she let her head dip as the priest slipped from the confessional and moved out of the hall of worship. Such a good devout girl she was. Making sure the church gleamed for all of Gods worshipers. The truth was, when the last person left for the night and she was here, alone. It was then she could commune with God. "Good night Father." The doors clicked, and after a few breathless minutes her supplies were put away, and her hands were scrubbed clean. Alone.. Over to the confessional she moved, her lips bitten with the thrill of anticipation. *Pulling open the door, she smiled. A rich lush grin that bared perfect teeth as the smell of the sacred place seeped out to greet her. Its air of sin atoned for reaching out for her. Moving as if unseen hands were drawing her in the door clicked shut behind her. Alone. She didn't sit down quickly. Not at first. Out she reached to touch the ornate scroll work. How many people touched that panel, with a life of sin on their lips so eager to spill out and fill the ears of their priest? In here, these four walls were witness to the dirty little secrets people poured out in hopes of absolution. Between her long stocking covered legs she felt the first twinge. The little spike of desire that began to throb between her legs. Then there was the tingle that rolled through her belly and across her breasts. Heat flooded each orb, and as they grew taut with desire her nipples pressed against the lace of her bra commandingly. Tonight, she didn't tell herself it was wrong. Instead with a kiss pressed to that sliding panel she sat down on the leather bench to pray..* "Bless me Father, for I am Sin. It has been 24 hours since my last confession. In that time, I haven't been able to take my mind off you." *Out she reached, her fingers stroking the well seasoned oak walls. Down across the surface she imagined the anguish of the confessors. Their guilt, their shame, their self loathing and disgust. Did they know their weakness turned her on? On the seat, moisture began to drip form her neat cunny, lust vibrating in her mind from the walls and traveling down her fingertips. She could almost hear them whispering their dirty little secrets.* "I wonder Father, does it turn you on? I watch you ever Sunday.. delivering Mass and I don't hear. Instead.. I sit with legs parted.. and allow the vibration of the faithful to travel through the wooden benches and tease me. Allow you to tease me through them." *Heavy breaths sweep over her lip and back her golden head is pressed against the confessional. There is no need to be quiet. She is Alone, with her spirituality. So hot and she hasn't even touched herself.* *She doesn't need to hurry, but across her belly she lets her hands wander, reaching up to cup each breast and test their weight in the bowl of her hand. A firm squeeze is made at the right then left. Inside the box, her moans begin to spill through the open slide panel. They will linger there for the priest when he arrives tomorrow. To bathe him in her sin and only she will know. Aching need, it seems connected. Both nipples are pierced with a little cross dangling from each one. When at last she touches them.. her body convulses just with the threat cumming far to soon. * "No, no, bad girl.. that would be far to soon." *Unable to touch her large, over sensitive breasts for the time being. She lets her feet come to rest against the wall. Stockings, garters... short skirt and no panties. She reaches down to stroke her legs.. how good the silk feels on her skin. If it were his hands, with a rosary wrapped around them.. she would gladly do anything he wanted. Small scratches are made at pale flesh just above the lace tops of her stockings.. and then palms press flat to slide up to the hem of her skirt. Teasing it backward. It lets the cold air of the night tease at her pussy lips. Allows the memory of those confessing whispers to nibble and lick at her sweet cunt. Writhing and she hasn't touched her clit yet.. no fingers have sunk inside her quim to take the place of her imagined frocked lover. Alone. The back of her knuckles sweep over the folds of her pretty lips and pleasure shoots through her. The vision.. the idea of the Priest kneeling between her legs draws another moan. Her hand twists and slowly she spreads those petals with two fingers forming a peace sign atop her pussy. Already dripping, she listens for the echo of those confessions.* "Do they ask you to forgive their affairs? Their lustful thoughts about their daughters, sons, co workers, teachers.. you? Do you ever reach below your cassock and take your cock out Father? Maybe you use holy oil to make your palm slick and your fingers glide over the head of your cock smoothly?" *Up comes one hand, this time to undo her shirt and set her breasts free atop the cups of a pink bra. One nipple is played with, rolled between her fingers and tugged at gently by the ring. Oh, to feel his lips suckling, his tongue probing the soft nipple. Again her moans grow louder.. and she giggles. After all, she is Alone.* *Arching her spine presses her body forward and she imagines the Priest sitting on the other side of the confessional watching her. Fist curling in his robes as he tries not to part his robe. Fights the urge to wrap his strong hand around his meat and begin to stroke.* "Its okay Father, I won't tell, go ahead and rub it. You make me so hot Father. I can't go out with men my age. I can't look at them and feel lust. You have ruined me. I only want your blessed cock, your sacred hands and holy mouth touching me. Do you feel it too Father? After a day of listening to others sins, who listens to yours? Story after story of housewives sucking their post mans cum down their throats, of soccer moms going down on one another. Business men getting blow jobs in the backs of cabs and sleazy motels. Don't you want to reach out and fuck a young thing?" *Two fingers worked to slide up and down her slit, creating a froth of naughty juices right there on the confessional bench. Out she reached for a candle, taken from the alter right next to the place where the Priest gave his sermons each Sunday. It would be put back, and next Sunday when it was lit, her scent would fill him like incense. At first she teased her tight opening... slowly slipping the head of the cock inside and then waiting. Her cunt slowly gripping, pulling it deeper and deeper in. So wet, and you didn't even know you did it to her did you Father? More sultry moans filled the small confessional as she let her hips roll and began to fuck herself with the candle in slow long strokes.* "Oh Father.. fuck this sinner.. use me as a vessel to mop up your need. A gift from God. Yes, harder Father." *With another tug at her nipple ring, she let her lips part and turned her head toward the open panel. Pretending that his cock was there, pressed through like a sacred glory hole. Eyes closed and mouth open she nursed at the invisible cock knowing that it was wrong. Desperate for his hot Cum to splash on her chest and at the back of her mouth.* "Forgive me Father, mayhaps I say to much." *All day, he listened, and all day she hungered to sit knelt before him suckling, easing his suffering praying for forgiveness. Just like he did for others.* *No. She couldn't cum. Drawing herself back from the edge a soft sob escaped from between her lips. From betwixt her legs the candle was drawn and cleaned off on the hem of her blouse. It took a minute, but soon she was pulled back together. Alone here in the confessional, wishing she were brave enough to confess to him, to her Priest the love, the lust, and admiration felt for him. The dark needs he alone stirred. While she basked in the sins of others, and savored how they must torment him. She couldn't risk being turned away by him. To suffer in silence was better then never to see him. God would forgive her, but what if he could not? Letting her skirt fall back into place and redoing her shirt she let herself out of the confessional. Only a stain on the leather bench to bear witness to her confessions. With the candle replaced she sighed and looked around once more. Out over the pews were the congregation would gather. Already she could hear them whispering their confessions at his ear. Sin I knew the storm was coming; my body began tingling as the clouds gathered overhead. My nipples hardened as the chill breeze began to dance among the trees. I jumped in the car, racing through the traffic to get away in time. I couldn't be in the city when it happened, I had to be free. I reached the stream just as the first crack of thunder sent a shudder through my lower body. My shoes were left beside the car, my jeans in the road, my shirt entangled in a bush, my bra hanging from a cactus, the last bit of silk floated near the bank as I dove into the water. Icy fingers moved over me, the rising wind teased the current into a thrashing frenzy. I rose out of the water, leaving sodden footprints in the dirt as I moved to my rock, stretching out as I always do. My arms flung wide to receive nature's violence, my eyes closed, my breasts heaving and swaying as the heat within became a feverish need. The warmth centered deep within, moving through my veins, along my limbs. It crested and receded as the lightning flashed and the thunder crashed. I growled deep in my throat, undulating against the hard stone beneath. The rain began to fall, slashing at an angle with a force that bruised my exposed flesh. I welcomed it, inviting any that would come to relieve my tension, fulfill my fantasy. There was a silence then, though I only imagined it as appropriate to the shadow which fell across me. Hands took hold of my wrists from above. Eyes pressed against my skin, moving over my proffered form in a slow assessment. I heard a soft "Hmm…" Beside my ear as the figure climbed onto the rock beside me without releasing its hold. Knees pressed against my sides as I was straddled, a hardened length of flesh nestled itself in the space between my breasts. I heard his voice beside my ear though I knew he had not leaned close again. "This is what you want?" The muscles in his thighs tightened as he moved his body against mine, taking liberties with the unprotected valley of my cleavage. "Yes." My throat ached, I was light headed. I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to see him, only wanting to feel him. "Yes, I want it." I raised my head, tongue snaking out to brush across the head, lips opening as he continued to press forward. I swirled my tongue around the shaft, letting the stud on my tongue ring caress the vein along its underside. I inhaled, pulling him further in, popping my jaw out of place to accommodate. It would hurt later, but for now it was good. He was salty, like the ocean, and sweet somehow. I heard him groaning as I moved within the limited space he had allowed. I purred against him as he tried to pull away, humming softly beneath my breath. "Stop." He whispered, but did not pull away, and I continued. I swallowed, pulling the head into the back of my throat, knowing that I wouldn't be able to take it all. He groaned again, the weight across my ribcage was eased as he pulled away. He moved downward, trailing precum down my belly as he pressed my knees apart and settled himself there. "This is not how it happens" he sounded perturbed, petulant. I was the wanton sacrifice that had been offered to pagan gods, but I was not cooperating. I am not one to play by rules, to lie still and be ravaged. It would be a cooperative effort, with give and take, or it would be nothing. My eyes opened, running over the well muscled torso above me. The lines seemed sculpted, perfect. Muscles rippled as he leaned over me, tugging at my arms to force me to lie back. I complied reluctantly, catching a glimpse of his shaven head as he bent over me. Cold rain fell around us, chilling my bones. His tongue was hot as it passed over one sensitized nipple. He suckled gently, ignoring my whimper of complaint. I wanted violence, not lovemaking. His lips closed over my flesh, teeth coming together with a satisfying click. I moaned, squirming against him. He bit down again, I knew that a bruise would rise there later, and it pleased me. This is what I had craved, why I had come to this place. I arched my back, and he pushed me down, scraping a raw spot between my shoulder blades. I could feel him, hard and throbbing against me, but still I did not open. He chuckled at my resistance as he moved to the other breast, continuing his assault on its neglected peak. The stubble on his cheek rubbed, bringing blood to the surface of my tender skin. His teeth bit and scraped, seeming sharp at one moment and dull the next. I wanted him, wanting to feel the length of him buried within, but he still hadn't given me enough. I thrashed against him, freeing one hand long enough to rake my nails across his shoulders before he captured it again, holding both of my wrists tightly in one large hand. His other hand moved to my throat, squeezing lightly. I gave a soft whimper of satisfaction as the pressure increased. His lips and teeth returned to the first breast, leaving the storm to cool its tortured twin. His fingers closed, pressing inward, his palm pressing down. I managed a gasp of air, opened my eyes to watch the starbursts in my head. The world slowed, drifting into a surreal plane. My mind retreated, leaving my body only with sensation. Fire burned through me, a repressed scream built deep within. This is what I had wanted, why I had come here instead of finding one of my lovers. This is what I craved whenever a man or woman touched me, this moment when the world would recede and I would be lost in a sea of pleasure. The pressure eased so that I could speak, so that I could beg if necessary. This stranger knew me as well as I could know myself at this moment. I struggled to keep hold of that moment until he returned it to me. I twisted and shuddered under his hand, against his lips, forcing the words out while I could still speak. "Who are you?" I cried even as I writhed beneath him, struggling to free my wrists from his grasping fingers. He raised his head long enough to smile, an obliging flash of lightning illuminating the feral gleam in his eyes. "I am Love." He said. "I am passion, desire… I answer your Need." I laughed, opening myself to him. "You are the devil, I say." The wind blew around us, stirring dirt and small rocks into the air, but leaving an area of safety just large enough for us. "Nay." He moved to take what I had offered, thrusting forward in a single motion, stretching and filling me in a way I had until then only imagined. "I am not Satan, but the essence of Lust. I am Sin." "Take me then!" I threw my head back, baring my throat, letting the rain wash over me. "Bless me, Sin. And then bless me again." The hand closed over my throat again, his lips pressed against mine. His tongue forced itself between my lips, delving inside to taste the one thing I had not allowed him. My body moved against his, I could no more fail to meet his thrusts than I could deny that I wanted him. He released my hands so that he could move me, placing my calves onto his shoulders. I grasped his arms as he held onto my waist and throat, driving into me with a pace that rivaled the rage of the storm around us. The wind screamed because I could not. The water slashed down, washing away the blood that my nails had brought. I knew the shrinking pinpoints of light were echoes of the lightning, the fading sound of drums was the thunder, the world faded around the edges of my consciousness. I panted for what air I could get, nails digging deeper as I anchored myself onto him before letting go. The world flew away, not so much shattering as fracturing. It was a spider web windshield fragmentation that escalated to an earth quake as I felt him pull away, felt the hot rush as he spilled across my belly. My legs fell away from my shoulders, his hands released me as he collapsed. The world rushed back, but I ignored it, panting for lost breath. I fell back against the rock, oblivious to its discomfort or Sin's weight atop me. I was satisfied, satiated. Now I knew why the storms had always teased at my senses, tantalizing my body into an awakened state, making dark promises that it would no more fail to fulfill than I would fail to accept. Sin shifted onto one elbow, staring down at me, and smiled. I could feel him stirring against me. "Again?" Sin This story inspired by "Sacrament" By Pride and Fall. * I crack my whip. You cry in pain and lust. I bend you over, and you obey. Your ass is red, bright red. I love to see you like this, and you secretly love to feel it. Every time we play like this, you act as though you are afraid; you act as though I am doing something I should not. You beg me to stop. But, in your mind, I bring you comfort. You shall be released, a moment to live and a sequence to heal. But you'll find no redemption here, for I will punish you. I will use you for my pleasure in every way I can, my dear. You will give it to me, your heart, your soul, your everything. You will give it to me. I own you as I bend you over, and your pleasure is mine. Candles light the room, and yet you cannot see. You feel me next to you, and yet you cannot say for sure. I am here, everywhere around you as you beg for more. You are blindfolded, bound, ready for me. I know how you enjoy this, and yet still you beg and squeal beneath me like the cunt you are. I place my coat around your shoulders, I bring you comfort to stop your shivers. It is cold outside, a Midwestern night. You bear my sin as if you are proud, you need to feel me, and I you. "Tell me what a whore I am," you whisper. "You are such a dirty whore," I reply. "You want to be fucked so badly, you cannot contain it. You have dreams of being taken by more men than you can count, don't you?" "I do," you reply. "You want to be covered in their cum, used. Don't you?" "I do," you reply. A sinful life, you live, along with I. We enjoy it very much. You'll find no redemption here. "You want to cum right now, don't you?" I ask. "I do," you reply. "Sadly, that is not to be. Not now. Some time, I shall allow it. But not now. You exist for my pleasure." I say this as I toy with you, my fingers circling your clit. I know how much you like it, as you gasp in pleasure. You are moaning for me, you sinful slut. You will give it to me, your need, but you will not cum. Not yet. I can feel your wetness against my fingers as I tease you, I can see on your face how much you need it. And yet, your collar holds tight. You are not to cum this time. You beg me please, but I refuse. I can taste you as you are bent over for me, enjoying all of you. It will end some day, you will be free, but until then you are mine to enjoy. You squirm, and I smile. You'll find no redemption here, not among those watching you. Yes, you are being watched by men, and by women, touching one another as they enjoy the sight of my tongue buried inside your deepest, most secret places. They are aroused. Are you? Good, I am glad that you are, as I knew you would be. "Tell me how badly you want it," I whisper in your ear, pulling close to you, my body against yours as I speak. "I am such a slut. I need it. I don't just want it, I have to have it. Please, make me your whore." And so I do. I use your wetness with my tongue. True, it gives you pleasure, but it give me even more pleasure to hear you moan. I love your sinful sounds as you tell me, without words, how badly that you need it. You beg me, "Please." I allow it to continue. After all, a sinful life will clear it all. All the doubt we have ever felt, all the want we have ever had, a sinful life will make it all clear to us. Again, you beg me. "Please." I push myself inside you; I can feel your lust. You press against me, as you give it to me, and I you. You beg me, "please," and I push harder. I can feel you quiver against me, and I know you are ready. I reach around, and touch you, all over. I can feel your want against me, your wetness burning with every touch. I view your colors in my hand, and our sinful lives will clear it all. I can feel you cumming even now, against the wall, begging for more. You'll find no redemption here, only more of the same, lust and need. Sin and Atonement "Balu," said my twin sister Meena casually as if she was asking me to pass salt at the dining table, "can you give me some of your semen?" "What do you mean my semen?" "A sample of your semen for testing," she said. . "Sure," I said. I took the thick glass cup she offered and went into my room. My sister is a clinical lab technician. She left her job in a large hospital and is setting up her own private lab. She has rented a suitable place in Bazaar Street of our small town near Trichy in southern India. Painting and carpentry works were going on in the building, meanwhile the equipment she has ordered has piled up in our house. Meena has set up her microscope in her room and was trying it out; hence the request for my semen. A sister asking her brother for a sample of his semen is likely to get the brother into a curious frame of mind. No, it was not sexual excitement; it was something else that I am quite unable to describe. Whatever the reason I was not able to masturbate. I could get the erection but I could not get to the point of ejaculating. I tried and tried till by forearm muscles became sore. I had to give up. "Sorry Meena I could not." "What do you mean 'could not.' In our lab men get samples in a jiffy. "If their sisters ask for semen samples they may not also be able to get it in a jiffy either," I said annoyed. I was unhappy that I had failed in this rudimentary test for manhood. "Look here Balu with difficulty I have got things ready for full scale semen testing. It cost me quite a bit. The last thing I expected was for you to let me down." "I tried my best." "Why don't you open up your lap top? I believe most men have a collection of porn there." "I tried that too." "You have seen me in the nude. Think of that." "I did that too." "Really? That's interesting. What more do you need. Do you want me to strip?" When Meena was talking about my having seen her in the nude she was not referring to our childhood days much less our days in our mother's womb. I must explain the circumstances under which in an orthodox Hindu family in the conservative society of rural southern India a brother can see his grown up sister in the nude. Our family consists of my widowed mother who at 38 is quite youthful, my sister and I both 20 years old. My father a long time sufferer from rheumatic heart disease died two years ago. . We live in the ancient part of our small town. Our house must be over a hundred years old. The houses in our part of the town are country tiled with a pyol in front. The wooden door, thick and heavy with decorations leads into a central spacious courtyard with a well in the centre and rooms on front, left side and the back. The kitchen and store room are on the right side of the entrance as prescribed in Vastu shastra. The well has dried up some years ago. We live not far from the Cauvery River but thanks to numerous dams built along its 300 mile course the river is also dry except during the monsoon season. But our municipality supplies piped water. Each house has one pipe. Ours is in the court yard next to the well. We get water for two hours in the morning from four to six. That is all for the day. We have to bathe early in the morning and after that collect as much as possible in casks for the rest of the day. I am the owner of the cloth shop that my father had inherited from his father who by diligence and honesty has made the shop the best known in our populous agricultural taluk (county). My father kept up the reputation of the shop and as he was aware that he had only a few more years to live he has trained me from early years to run the shop. My mother is supervisor in a tailoring export factory near Trichy. The factory bus picks her up at seven in the morning and drops her back at six in the evening. My mother is up at four to start her chores. When the water starts dripping she is already there in order not miss even a drop of our precious allotment. She bathes and then sister bathes. I get up at five and bathe hurriedly. Before six when the water stops we have to collect water for the rest of the day. We do not have a bathroom in our house. The granite platform built round the well is our bathroom. (The lavatory is well away from the house in the compound. If my late grandmother had known that in modern houses the lavatories are inside the houses she would be greatly scandalised.) My mother and sister use the parapet wall round the well as screen and bathe. I tie a towel round my waist and bathe. My mother is not as careful as my sister is during bathing. Even my sister when she leaves after the bath at times runs across to her room in the nude. When I am recuperating from fever my mother would take a day's leave and warm water for my bath. She would bathe me not sparing attention to my penis and scrotum. Likewise when my sister is in periods (and consequently unclean in our culture) I will help my mother when she has her weekly head bath. She would crouch in the nude and I will attend to her scalp and then withdraw. Yes I have seen both my sister and mother in the nude vulva and all. In short in our home we are not that ashamed of our bodies as people are in our parts. Back to my story where I am considering my sister's poser: "Do you want me to strip?" It was clear that she was desperate for the specimen. I took the cup from her and went back to my room to give another try. This time I had problem even maintaining an erection. I came out empty handed. Sister took the cup from me and left the room. Her body language was not of one accepting defeat. I had no idea what her plan was, if any. When she came back soon after she stunned me absolutely. She had a thin towel tied at arm pit level and nothing else. It was how she covered herself when she slipped back to her room after bathing (at times as I have said before she would run back in the nude). The towel came up to mid thigh. "Will this do?" she asked. "Do you expect me to masturbate while you watch?" I asked. "Unless you get into the TV carton lying in the store room with the head protruding out." she said and laughed. "Cheap joke," I said. "I have seen your thing many times. I can't she why you are making a fuss about it. Think of me as a nurse." "I do not think that patients in hospital have to masturbate before nurses," I said. "Don't take it literally. You cannot let me down." My sister's boldness surprised me. I hesitated. Masturbating with my sister looking on was something I would have considered unthinkable a few minutes before she came with her request. "I'll try again with you image in mind," I said and taking the cup I left for my room. I was so confused that I could not get an erection. I came out. "OK," I said and boldly throwing away my dhoti I sat on the low chair and took hold of my penis. Meena was standing arms akimbo a metre from where I sat. I looked at her and started. I think it was because we were twins that made us participate is something so daring. Brother and sister twins are closer to each other than brothers and sisters who have not shared wombs. We did not make eye contact for I was looking at her scantily covered body and her eyes were riveted on my fingers working on the penis. "I am not getting proper erection," I said for such was the case. My penis was turgid but not hard enough. "Will this help," she said and without opening out she loosened the towel and slid it down to her waist. My sister has a pair of magnificent breasts. Large with just that sag their size demanded. The areolas were broad and the nipples indescribably lovely. My penis responded in kind. It was erect with an upward pointing tip. "OK?" "Perfect," I said. We made eye contact but it was only for a fraction of a second for sister looked away at once. No, she did not blush, neither did she smile. "Almost there," I said but for some reason I was not able to ejaculate. Meena must have noticed that I was having difficulty in surmounting the final hurdle. "How about now," she said and removed the towel altogether. I gasped. I have seen her nude but not front on and not with her standing still with the specific object of letting me have an eye full. She was like a temple sculpture. Narrow waist and broad hips with shapely thighs with a puffy clean shaven vulva the slit of which was unblemished but for a prominence at the top to show where the hood hid the clitoris. And then she parted her legs just a bit. That did the trick. "The cup, hand me the cup" I said. Meena took the cup from the cot and hurriedly brought it to the tip of the penis. No sooner was it in place semen started pulsating out. Part of the first spurt missed the cup and landed on the back of Meena's left hand. The rest was in the cup. The flow soon ceased. Meena placed the cup on the bed and taking hold of my penis she squeezed it and collected the few drops that came out on two slides. She placed the slides next to the cup and using soft paper wipes she cleaned my penis thoroughly. She retracted the prepuce and cleaned behind the glans and then replaced the prepuce. That done she collected her specimens and left. "You have not wiped your hand," I said as she was leaving. She looked at the spot of semen on the back of her hand as if wondering what to do about it and then she deliberately licked it. "I can give the report straightaway. You have no diabetes," she said and chuckled. I sat in a daze. "Come Balu and see," she called from her room, "look at your dancing sperms." I looked into the microscope and saw my sperms wriggling about, countless numbers of them. "Nice?" I nodded. "Now go and lie down and rest. I will bring you milk and almonds." In our parts men consume almonds because it is supposed to promote sexual vigour. I would have liked to relax on the sofa reenacting the event but I had to go to my shop. . The next three days nothing happened for sister was in her periods. On the fourth day Meena was at home as the workers who were getting her lab ready were on leave. We had lunch and I had my afternoon nap. At three I woke up. I went to the kitchen. Meena was preparing coffee. We had coffee and snacks "I want semen again Balu," she said. I went to my room. Meena followed bringing the cup to collect the specimen and some glass slides and wipes. "You get on the cot," she said in the tone nurses order patients, "I will do it for you. I know I can do it better." "What do you mean by 'do it'?" "I'll masturbate you." "But, but," I said in half hearted protest. I liked the idea. Her soft hand on my penis as she squeezed it of semen was still green in my memory. "Don't be difficult Balu. Remove that dhoti and lie down. You can watch me as I strip. I believe that brings on erection." So saying she started undressing. She removed her sari and then her blouse. She was now in her skirt and bra. The bra was the first to go exposing those lovely breasts of hers. Then with eyes fixed on me she undid the skirt tape. She wriggled a bit and the skirt dropped down in slow motion exposing her lower abdomen, and groin and finally that puffy vulva. I was erect and rearing to go. She allowing me time to drink in her beauty. She climbed on the cot and made me recline on pillows. She rested with her knees modestly close together between my legs. She was ready to start. My penis had already subsided to medium hardness. I like to think I am as virile as any man can be. I attribute this tendency of my penis to lose hardness so readily to the fact it was my sister who was confronting me. But Meena was up to the task of reviving it. Her pose of keeping her thighs together she must have thought was an error. She now brought my thighs together and rested her knees on either side of my thighs. Her vulval lips were now apart and I could see a bit of the redness of the vagina. She caught hold of my penile shaft and moved her hand to and fro. It was then that I noticed moisture in her vulval opening. She was more sexually aroused as I was. Soon she was not just moist but pouring. She looked up and saw my eyes focused on her vulva. She looked down and saw what she must have felt—secretions dripping from her vulva. So far she was resting on her knees. Now she squatted with feet on the mattress. Her vulva was widely open. She lifting up her buttocks and moved her feet forwards little by little. Her vagina was coming closer and closer to my now hard penis in her firm grip. And then a little maneuvering and she neatly threaded my penis into her vagina. She pressed and with a perceptible jerk her hymen ruptured. I was fully and deeply into my sister. "Excuse my darling brother," she said, "I just did not have the power to resist." "I am glad it happened," I said, "or I would have burst." "Fondle me," she said. She took my hand and placed it on her breast. I ran my hand across its smoothness and when I came to the nipple I gently plucked it. "Suck me," she said. She came forward holding up her breast and bringing the nipple to my lips. I held it between my lips and with teeth covered with my indrawn lips and gave a firm bite. She moaned. 'Kiss me," she said. Her lips sought my lips and we locked in a passionate tongue lashing kiss. She moved her hips up and down. My penis moved in and out smoothly like a well lubricated piston. She moaned again. Soon her hips were vibrating rather than moving. And then it happened. As I ejaculated she had the first of her three climaxes. She screamed softly as she climaxed. She then had two more. It was of her own doing. From the dominant position on top she was able to grind her clitoris on by pubis to get those extras that women value so much. We lay exhausted with sister on top of me. It was then that both of us were suddenly aware that mother has returned early that day and was watching us from less than six feet away. She was standing still like a statue with a face devoid of all expression. A combination of emotions of which fear and embarrassment were foremost paralysed me. I could not move a muscle. Meena was made of sterner stuff. She kissed me on the lips and got up. She put on her skirt and holding her crumpled sari against her breasts with one hand she went up to mother. She took her hand in hers and led her out of the room. I crept to the door and peeped. Meena and mother were in the room they shared. As I was watching the door opened and sister came out in her skirt but bare breasted. She squatted on the bath floor and washed herself. This understandably took a while for had not only to clean the vagina and vulva of semen but also her thighs and lower abdomen all of which were wet with her secretions. She then went back to the room and closed the door. It was time for me to go to the shop. I washed and changed and left locking the main door from outside. All three of us had keys to that lock. That was the reason why mother was able to come in without our knowing it. I have very little remembrance of what happened in the shop that evening. My first sexual intercourse, something I have been dreaming of for years, had happened; the girl I had sex with and deflowered in the process was no other than a sister with whom I had shared the womb; and as if that was not enough our mother was watching it from within the room. I was not afraid of pregnancy for the day after end of periods is quite safe. My anxiety was about my mother's reaction. The shock that her son and daughter were lovers could kill her. After closing shop I returned home with trepidation. I opened the door. Sister must have been waiting for me. She came out of the room. Her smile reassured me. "Mother is sleeping," she said. Mother often sleeps for an hour or two after returning from her factory. "I'll tell you what happened. You can't guess in a million tries. Yes, mother's reaction is totally unexpected." I'll quote Meena. "Amma came placidly as I led her out of the room. Her blank stare was alarming. 'Are you OK Amma,' I said. 'Go and wash well,' she said. I came out and did so. When I went back mother was lying facing the wall. 'Come this side and lie down beside me,' she said. She held me in a close embrace. We were silent for quite a while. 'I was fifteen when I married,' she said speaking softly, 'even at that age I was eager for sex. From then on till your father's passing I have been having sex regularly at least twice a week. Now that you have experienced I can tell you that even on days when your father was breathless from heart disease he would want me by his side. I would lie down nude beside him and he would hug me. For the past two years I am bursting with desire. Rubbing gives no relief. Men are there in plenty wanting me. There has not been a single day in then past two years when some man or other has not made sly signs that he wants to sleep with me. Hindu widows cannot marry and men in our parts know our weakness and try to exploit. I have no choice but to resist for even if I yield once I am gone, gone for ever. The community will shun me. I can understand how much you two have suffered. It is better that Balu has you rather than some prostitute. And please only when the desire becomes great and be very careful about pregnancy.'" "The last thing I expected Balu," said my sister," was mother to bless us. But I was more concerned about her. Her starvation from sex is so intense that she may yield and as a family we will be doomed in this our ultra conservative rural society." "What are we to do?" I asked her. "Do you get any ideas?" She spoke in a tone that suggested that she knew I could get ideas. I could too but it was so horrible that the very thought made me shiver. "I have been thinking about it," she continued as if I had spoken my thoughts, "I do not find it that bad. You help mother during head bath when I am out of bounds, and you massage her back with her buttocks all exposed when she has low back ache. This is just one step removed." "The very thought makes my head go round and round." "Mother may not be averse to it." "How do you know?" "I asked her." "You mean you suggested it to mother. How did you have the nerve to do that?" "I will do anything to save mother from becoming a lust object for other men Balu, anything. What about you." "What did she say?" "She was horrified at first. I told her that as Hindus do not allow widow remarriage our customs sanction widows to have taboo relationships under exceptional circumstances. Young widows can thus have sexual relationships with brothers and grown up sons." "I have not heard of such customs." "That does not mean that they do not exist." "What happened next?" "I pressed and she gradually became less and less vehement in her objections. Just as you are excited to see her nude she likes to see you in the nude too." "What do you mean I am excited to see her in the nude." "You are Balu. I have seen you ogling her when she is bathing and I can see her excitement when she is bathing you on those occasions when you are recovering from fever." "You were watching were you?" "Of course. With great excitement." "I won't be surprised if both of you wanted me to fall sick from time to time." "That's going too far," she said laughing. "Anyway I have given a razor to mother to shave herself. I told her you like it that way." "Razor? To mother? And where did you get the notion that I like it that way?' "A woman must be at her best when she presents herself before a man even if it is her son. That is what Kama Sudra says. As for you liking shaved things I know. Please deny it if I am wrong." I was silent. "What next?" "We'll play by the ear," said Meena. Mother-son the very thought seemed so horrible. With my morals already loosened Meena could sell me the idea without difficulty. Sin and Atonement The next morning I woke up as usual at five sharp with the help of my alarm clock. Armed with tooth brush I ventured out of my room. Normally by that time the plinth area around the well would be clear with mother and sister having taken their bath earlier. But today mother was bathing. My first impulse was to withdraw but I realised that the altered programme was deliberate. I acted as if it was all normal and went on with brushing my teeth. Mother was not crouching with her back towards me as she does when on the occasions I would be soaping her hair during her oil baths. Instead she was facing me but with soap on her face her eyes could not be open. And then she stood up to do her thighs with soap still on her face. She was a mother of two twenty-year olds but she was still a beauty. Her buttocks were like glass globes and her thighs as smooth as peeled banana tree stems. Her breasts were sagging malgova mangoes. Though she had put on weight she still had a narrow waist. The sight of her in the nude a couple of feet away from me made me hard as rock. I might have had erection problems with sister but none at all with mother. It was then that I studied her vulva. Sister must have inherited her vulva for mother's was puffy too with a smooth slit and a perceptible clitoral hood. She had shaved smooth. Indian mothers are famous for going to the limits to please their sons but this was way beyond those limits. It was touching. 'Mother," I said, "a chilly wind is blowing here. Wash away the soap we will go to my room and I'll wipe you." There upon she poured the bucket of water over her head. I held her by the arm and dripping water she allowed me to lead her into my room. There I wiped her scalp and face (with eyes now open) and her neck and shoulders and breasts and chest and abdomen. Then I did her thighs and legs. She helpfully lifted one and then the other leg as I wiped them. I then made her turn and did her buttocks and then I came round and went down on my hunches to do the vulva. With the towel on my palms I cupped the vulva. With my finger lightly gripping the major lips I opened the slit with my thumbs and peered in. It was wet, generously wet. Mother was in a high state of sexual excitement. I took my head forwards and kissed the open slit and then I inserted my long tongue inside and licked the juices. Mother spread her thighs and placing her hands on the back of my head she pressed. We moved to the cot. I lifted mother up and rested her buttocks on the edge of the mattress. I then crouched. Mother had lifted her legs and spread out her thighs. I opened out her vulva to bring the clitoris closer to the surface. The button like tip was turgid. I started licking. I licked the clitoris and the inner lips leading to it. Soon mother was moving her buttocks and moaning. I stopped licking, paused and then swiped the clitoris. Mother had a massive orgasm. For the finale I bit the clitoris with protected teeth. Mother screamed softly. "Quick," she said between moans, "I can't wait." I pulled her up and soon I was on top of her. She caught my dangling penis and inserted it into her vagina. We were both is such a state of excitement that we climaxed soon after with perfect timing. Soon it was over for me but not for her. I waited for a while and pressed again. Mother moved her pelvis up and down till her G spot made contact. She had another orgasm and then yet another. I lay limp on her totally exhausted. I then rolled over and we held each other in a tight embrace. "It is time for me to get ready for the factory," she said. We got up. I led her to the well. I poured water as she washed herself. I poured again and she did the needful for my penis and the wet surroundings. I led her by her arm to the room. Meena must have been waiting for when the door opened she held her in and closed the door. I went back and lay down; my legs were too weak to hold me up. Some time later Meena called me for breakfast. "It is wonderful. Mother has had he fill," she said. "How do you know? Did she tell?" "Better than that. I saw it happening." "You saw?" "Why not?" This afternoon you must lick me," she said. We had it that afternoon and several afternoons after that. I liked it when I am on top. It is delicious face to face with her breasts pressing my chest. But Meena likes it when she is on top. She says she is able to get the right touch and the precise amount of pressure on her G spot when she is on top though that pose is more strenuous. But strangely we soon became less and less enthusiastic about sex. As for Mother we had the second after two weeks and the third after three. That was to be the last. In the glow of sexual satisfaction the utter heinousness of our actions was not apparent to us in the beginning. But misgivings that what we were indulging in an act that even in animals is taboo were floating all the while under the surface of our consciousness. The hollowness of the arguments that we had advanced rationalizing our actions started popping up in our thoughts with greater and greater frequency. The period of wakefulness just before dawn was when I questioned my actions and it greatly disturbed me. I also found mother brooding at times. One day I asked her what was bothering her. She said our sins will soon catch up with us. Meena was affected; she was no longer bubbly. The tension was building up. It needed but a spark to explode. That came in the form of an innocent letter we received one afternoon. 2 One evening when I came home from my shop mother met me at the door disheveled and staring widely almost as if she had become insane. Meena was laying face down on the sofa. Mother pointed to a letter lying on the table. It was from a marriage broker bringing an offer for Meena. It was a normal and natural thing for brokers to bring marriage offers for eligible girls. "What reply can we give them?" she said. "What reply can we give them?" she repeated this is time in a screech. "We have made our darling into an object worthy of being spat upon by prostitutes." That I had to admit was the stark reality. "I am not worthy of even that, continued my mother, "I have dishonoured motherhood itself. We have brought a family renowned for respectability for generations to this state. We must do away with ourselves that's the only way we can erase our shame." She was becoming hysterical with every word she uttered. Meena got up. Her eyes were red from crying. "I am to blame," she said. "I started this horror; I seduced my brother by craft, I almost raped him, and like the devil I put temptation in my mother's way, I do not deserve to live," so saying she ran into her room and closed and latched the door. After banging the door vainly pleading with her to open we broke open the door and entered. Meena was standing on the cot with one end of a sari strung on the electric fan and other looped round her neck. Mother pulled her down in the nick of time. They hugged each other and wailed. Then suddenly a change came over mother. "All hope is not lost," she said slowly pacing her words. "God can save us still, but first we must obey the shastras. We must not run away like cowards. We must live to atone for our misdeeds. Flesh eating has filled us with animal desires. We must stop that at once." She ran into the kitchen and threw the meat dishes vessel and all into garbage. "Tomorrow we make a pilgrimage to Palani," she said. Hindus have numerous places for pilgrimage. Banares is the most famous of these but there are others of local importance. The most famous in south India is the hill temple at Palani 130 miles from our town. To gain merit one must walk the distance from home on bare feet. That is what we vowed to do. The three of us attired in ochre cotton clothes started the pilgrimage the day after the letter. We traveled about 15 miles a day walking on bare feet. There are many rest houses for pilgrims on the way. We stayed there for the night and started early in the morning before sunrise to escape the heat of the sun. It took us 12 days to reach Palani. We climbed the steep stone steps to the hill temple. We offered pujas there and had our heads shorn of hair as per custom. In addition we had vowed to circumambulate the temple not by walk but by lying on the stone paved way and rolling along. There were many doing that day and every day. That done we had more pujas and when we came down the hill we felt at peace with ourselves. Meena who had the blank look of a mad woman for the past fortnight was normal again. But her vivaciousness was gone. There was an assured gentleness in her eyes that reminded one of Mother Teresa. It was a remarkable transformation. Before leaving I had written to the marriage broker that as we were on a vow to visit Palani we can reply only after we have done the pilgrimage. When I wrote to him after the pilgrimage he said that the mother of the boy will be visiting us. This was not only not customary but quite strange; we agreed. The lady came. Though owners of the biggest cloth store in the city she was very simply dressed and wore just a thin chain round her neck. She said she wanted to talk to sister before proceeding further in the proposal. This again was an unusual request. She had a strange story to tell. She has two children. The first one is the 25 year old boy for whom they were seeking a wife. The second born seven years later is a girl with severe mental disability. She has to have assistance for her every need. Astrologers whom they consulted studied her horoscope and said that the girl was a very distant member of the family who is reborn deformed as punishment for the sins she had committed in her earlier life. Hindus believe in heaven but not in hell. It is their belief that one has to atone for sins during rebirth. There will be many such rebirths depending on the sins committed but eventually everyone will reach heaven. The astrologers said that to be prosperous they should give the best care for the girl. They have been doing it for the past 18 years and as predicted they have become very prosperous. After the mother had passed away the wife of the brother would have to take up the responsibility of looking after the girl. Would my sister agree to that? I was watching my sister when she asked that question. I knew what her answer will be. My sister smiled; her face glowed when she said, 'I most certainly will.' Thereupon my sister's future mother held her hand against her bosom, closed her eyes and mumbled a prayer. Her long search has ended. My sister was married a month later. Six months later the mother-in-law paid the ultimate accolade that any daughter-in-law can receive from her mother-in-law. 'Your daughter is God's gift to us,' she wrote. Five months later my sister did more—she presented her family with a boy baby. My mother and I lead a life so simple that it is not different from that of the very poor in India. As a penance we have discarded mattresses and cushions and sleep on mats on the floor. I married a distant relative girl who became destitute when all the members of her family perished in a train accident. She shares our hardships and our joys. Yes, there is great joy in sharing everything that we can spare after meeting our meager needs to fund the charities that mother and I supervise. We have gained a totally unmerited reputation of being a holy family. Our business is prospering and the more we get the more we give. We hope that we will gain merit in the Almighty's eyes. We cannot escape our unfathomable sins but we hope our good deeds will to some extent mollify the punishment. Sin & Lust in Eden Beautiful crisp spring weather and a glass of cool lemonade was all that a little sweet southern belle could ask for on this day of lazy contemplation. Breezy soft air collected perfume from the velvety rose garden with its splashes of fuchsia, shell pink, buttercup yellow, pale peach, and shocking red. The clumsy clouds with their oddball shapes like fluffy cotton candy and marshmallows danced above my head. The robin's egg blue colored sky playing peek a boo with me as I sat under the magnolia tree spying on the variety of birds competing for perching places on the abundantly supplied birdfeeder. This beauty around me was breath taking and under appreciated by many. The day was too nice to escape notice. I couldn't help but wish that I had someone with me to enjoy this quiet gentle canvas God supplied and nature painted. The warm air was hypnotic, relaxing me enough to loosen the buttons at the bodice of my powder blue sundress. I leaned back against the massive bark of the tree; books scattered around my petite form on the multicolored quilt Granny made years ago. I don't know how long my new neighbor was there in his own flower garden with its multitude of buttercups, daisies, and other wild flowers before I noticed him. I could tell from the way he were singing those off colored sailor songs that he didn't know I was close by, lost in the splendor of my own piece of heaven. With amusement I watched as he danced around the glorious sunflowers he had planted by the picket fence, for more privacy I assumed. They had to have been 7 feet tall and so beautiful, yellow ochre in color and essence. His dancing skills were funny, like those of a drunken Indian trying to entice rain with magic feet but getting snow instead. The soft musical sound of my giggle made him pause mid step, frozen. My laughter increased as his head appeared under the heavy blossoms of the sunflowers. With his vibrant manliness, he looked out of place in all the coziness of the giant flowers. Upon seeing me, he smiled mischievously, like a boy caught stealing his first kiss. I radiated a smile in his direction that caused a blushing to his cheeks, which I believe hasn’t blushed in years. In the silence I said a tentative hello. His hello back was humble and endearing. I lifted my glass of lemonade, condensation accumulating, and pantomimed pouring him one. He hopped over his fence, trying to do so smoothly but I detected the faintest effort on his part. This amused me even more, the nonchalant air he was attempting to achieve all for the sake of appearance. "Welcome to the neighborhood," I said, handing him a glass of refreshing lemonade. His tanned fingers brushed mine; the effects sent chills up my arm. I caught his eye and held the stare as I waited for his response. My look was confident and friendly. "Thank you, my dear," he said. "Nice rose garden. I can smell them when the morning breeze sails my way some mornings." He took a long gulp. "I didn't know you were here or I would have watched a Gene Kelly movie." My soft laugh seemed to please him. I traced designs in the moisture of my glass. "Sorry I haven't been over with the customary welcoming casserole. My Granny would roll over in her grave if she got wind of this." I whispered the last part from behind a slim hand. His laughter startled the birds, sending them squawking. "Well, I wish you had remembered because if this your cooking is as good as this lemonade I am in heaven." I kept silent and thanked Kool-Aide. "The kind Widow Brown brought over apple pie. I still have some left. Would you like a slice?" "No thanks! She makes one for me every birthday. They are terrible. You can keep yours." I reproached him with a look, which sent him into more laughter. "Even the birds won't eat it. I have tried," I said trying to look stern but giggling anyway. I was enjoying his vitality in my home of Eden. I was currently manless, a self-imposed state. I found the exchange we were having to be entertaining. So did he I could tell. He was sneaking sly glances at me from over the top of his glass. His glance was melted to my bodice, which was showing off an eyeful of cleavage. I pretended not to notice the increase in my heart rate. I hadn't felt desire in a long time for a man I was meeting the first time. Usually attraction had a way of sneaking up on me, but this time it was different. He was interesting and I wanted to know more. "You should know that at night when I am in my study, I can see through your windows," he said solemnly. "I wouldn't want you to think that I was purposefully trying to peep at you, even though I really am." His smile made a hot flash course through my body. I was quiet, remembering that last night I had looked out the window towards his house and got the impression that the shadows were moving in the darkness. I also remembered that I had been clad only in my underwear. "So, cowboy have you seen anything interesting?" I glanced down at my lap, smoothing the fabric over my knee. His answering remark caused me to flush. "I am now, Miss Moppet." He caught my delicate hand in his, bringing it to his lips. He kissed the open palm and brushed it across his cheek. "Soft," he whispered. Still holding my hand, he leaned over towards me, his breath tickling my lips and said, "You owe me a welcome to the neighborhood kiss. The kind Widow Brown gave me one. But I think I will like yours better." His lips were gentle on my trembling ones. I was nervous. I hadn't kissed any one in almost a year. I was so shy suddenly. A small helpless fly trapped in the enticing carnal web he was creating. I was swept away in the intensity of his kisses, his tongue stealing my will power. He placed his free hand on the nape of my neck, sliding fingers through the auburn tresses. We couldn't break the melding our lips and tongues. He pulled my lithe frame against his strong firm one. His kisses rained down my chin, over my neck and landed on the top of my right breast where it swelled over. I knew that I should stop this. One shouldn't let a neighbor seduce you in brood daylight; especially one that you had just met face to face. Granny would really have a cow if she saw what was transpiring under the shelter of the magnolia tree, she and Grandpa planted before my mamma was born over 55 years ago. But Granny was not around to shoo him away with her broom. I was lost in his kisses, captured by his touch, entangled in his embrace and burned by his passion. I couldn't stop; no more than one can stop the rain. I sighed with pleasure as his lips captured a dark rosy nipple he released from the straining fabric of my dress. The warm spring air sent chills through that breast as he ventured over to the other breast. He said over his kisses, "I have been watching you. At first I tried not to. I felt guilty looking when you had no ideal that I could see you. But you are so beautiful, all pale and radiant in the evening light. I sit in the dark wanting to touch you, kiss you…love you. I touch my cock, stroking it wondering if you were as delicious as I thought you to be. I want you, my sweet beautiful neighbor. Give me the welcome wagon gift that only a woman like you can." I was naked before he could finish the last sentence. His passion and the desire I saw in his eyes melted me. I forgot all manners and ethics. Let them be damned. He ignited a heat in me that was dormant and I thought long dead. I pulled at his clothes, trying to get him into the naked state that I was sporting. He suggested our retreat to the inside, but I refused. I needed him here in Eden, his Adam to my Eve. I didn't care about the other neighbors. The sanctuary of my roses hid us from prying eyes. His mouth was on the outside of my pussy. With tenderness he kissed my pouting pussy lips, tugging a little on them. I shivered with anticipation. His tongue teased my wet slit, as I arched my back, touching his hair with one hand while I caressed my left breast with the other. He buried his tongue in my opening, moaning and licking with delight. His hands went to my breasts. I took one of his hands in mine, to bring a finger to my mouth. I sucked it as if it were his cock that I longed to taste and feel the hardness of him in my mouth. I came, raining his face with wetness. He didn't stop as I came again and again. He had me powerless in his lip locked grip on my pussy. I whimpered and gyrated my hips against his expertness. I tugged hard on his hair, unrelenting in my desperation to kiss his mouth to taste myself on his lips. He had no choice but to come up for air and my lips. "Vixen!" He said as I licked his face, lapping my nectar from it. I placed my knee against his hardening cock. I looked down at it. My eyes returned to his face. I stroked his cheek as I whispered, "I want to taste you." I pushed him back upon the quilt that Granny made which probably had seen this kind of activity before. I believed that I would explode if I didn't have his taste in my mouth. I inhaled deeply his masculine fragrance, the perfumed scent of the roses mingling with his manly odor. "Delightful," I said to him as I took a long lick down the shaft of his hard large cock, starting at the tip of the mushroom head and ending at the base of his pubic bone. He quivered under my gentle touch. I plunged my mouth down on him to inhale his hardness deep in my throat. I held him there, milking him into even more of a torrid state. He cried out and pulled me up by my hair like I had done to him earlier. "I want to be inside you. I have to be inside you. I can't take this any longer. I am sorry, Love, but we will have time for exploring and teasing and enjoying and discovering later. For now we have to fuck. And I think you need a good fuck just like I do." He plunged his hard throbbing cock inside me, roughly shoving my knees apart. I cried out with joy and came immediately on his cock. He caught my mouth and kissed me so deeply. Our bodies locked in a dance more urgent than his earlier one. "I have to own you. Don't be afraid. You are a rare flower that is just too good to resist. Don't fight it, my blossom, I will be gentle." He said this as he was pulling out of my wet lips of Venus. His touch was gentle as his fingers caressed my face, his tone soft and caring "You see, Darling, I have fallen in this state of heaven, lust, love, whatever it is, while watching you. Stroking my cock at night, I come with violence and am left still wanting and needing. I can't stop this now. Don't fight it. I think you need it, too." He rolled me over, pulling my knees up with my ass in the air. He slid inside my pussy for about five hard strokes. I came so violently. Then he was out. I whimpered like a little child who has lost her favorite dolly. His throbbing cock was touching and rubbing my ass cheeks. I wanted him there. This was so unusual. I didn't let lovers go there. It was a no man's land. But he was different. I braced myself for his plunge inside my tenderness. I felt lips there instead. He licked and teased me with his tongue as he placed demanding fingers upon my clit. I came again. He didn't stop his stroking on my clit. He made me come at least two more time. When he stopped, he kissed my round perky ass cheeks, whispering comforting words as he pushed his cock against the opening of my ass. The big head slid in easily. I was so relaxed from my orgasms that he had no trouble entering me. I felt him shiver and I could tell from his breathing that he was close to coming. He stood steady and still inside me. I gripped his cock with my inner muscles, milking it like I did when he was inside my pussy. He reached up and intertwined the fingers of one hand in my hair while the other hand gripped my hip tightly. "Stop," he said. When I didn't, he said, "Then take me." He started stroking in and out fast and hard, not caring for my comfort or if I was enjoying. He was lost in pleasure. Animal sounds were coming from his mouth, soul as I felt his cock grow to even more intensity and size. I reached between my legs to torture my clit with more pleasure. I wanted to come with his cock deep inside my ass, maybe even while he was coming. When the explosion of my pussy happened, I don't think he knew that I had been touching myself. He was that intent on his pleasure. He cried out in a voice of thunder and let go his reserve with an even harder thrust as he came with such force I could feel it hit the walls of my ass. He fell forward, driving it inside deeper than before if that was possible. In my ear he whispered, "I think I am in love." He kissed my sweating neck and shoulder, sliding his arms under and around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. "Snuggle time," I said, kissing his arm. A voice, carried on the wind from my other next-door neighbor's yard, asked was all well. We giggled and pulled the quilt over us. The neighborhood needed some new gossip. I believe that he and I would have plenty to give. Sin and Redemption "Hey, birthday boy," laughed my friend Tom. "Have another beer, Jimmy. How's it feel to be 21?" I grinned. "Pretty good. This is one hell of a party. But with all this alcohol, I'm glad I walked. I'll be in no shape to drive." "Keep drinking and you'll be in no shape to walk home either," Mike boomed from across the room. "But it's only 5 blocks. You can crawl that far if you have to." I laughed. "Is that so? How many times have you crawled home, Mikey boy?" Mike chuckled. "Too many." He walked over. "Have some hard stuff. Here's a couple of screwdrivers." "Thanks, Mike," I said as I downed the vodka-infused mixture. About 10 minutes later I staggered to my feet. "Oh, man. I don't feel so good." I wobbled towards the door. "I may need some air." **** The pounding on the front door eventually woke me. "Uggggh," I groaned. I had the worst hangover of my life. I was back in my own apartment, although I had no idea how. I shuffled over to the door. "Go away. I'm not interested in what you're selling." "We're not selling anything!" snapped a voice from outside. "Open up in the name of the law!" I pulled the door open. "Uggggh. I feel like crap. Hi there, officers." Two policemen helped me back to my couch, where I gratefully sank into the cushions. "We're investigating a rape that happened a block from here last night. Where were you?" I blanched. "W-what? A rape? This is a safe area! Anyway, I was celebrating my 21st birthday with my friends." I gave them the address and the names of the partiers. "I think I way overdid the booze. Last thing I remember was drinking two screwdrivers. I have no idea how I even got home. I'm assuming they got me here." "You look like you way overdid the booze," one of the officers laughed. "Anyway, we'll check out your story with these people. Don't leave the area until we tell you." "I don't even plan to leave my house for the rest of the day," I groaned. "And probably tomorrow as well." The policeman chuckled. "Drink some water to rehydrate, then sleep it off. You'll feel better." I drank some water, then before I lay down, I popped onto my computer to find out what happened. A 20-year-old waitress, Karen Nelson, at a local restaurant had been walking home from work around midnight and been jumped from behind. She had been brutally raped. The article said that she had been saving herself for marriage. She never got so much as a glance at her attacker, and could provide no identifying details at all. I didn't want to read any more about that, so I deactivated the computer and lay down. When I woke, I felt better. **** The knock on my door the next day didn't seem quite as loud. I walked over and saw the same two officers. "Your story checks out," one of them said. "There were at least 20 people who confirm you were at the party. By the end of the night they were all pretty drunk themselves, and no one remembers helping you home, but they must have. You were apparently so drunk you couldn't even walk straight." I grumbled, "Never again. I'm not going to touch a drop of alcohol in my life from now on." The cop grinned. "You all say that. Anyway, looks like you're in the clear. Don't worry about the drinking. You only turn 21 once, after all." I was still feeling a bit zonked, so I lay back down for a bit. [5 years later] I had followed the rape investigation and story for a while. Karen had gotten pregnant from the rape and decided to keep the baby. Her religious family was very anti-abortion. They had also pretty much disowned her because she had a child out of wedlock. There were no leads, and after a while the case had been dropped. I moved on with my life, and had gotten a job as a sales clerk in a shoe store. I had a trust fund from my late grandfather that meant I didn't actually have to work to live, but I liked working. A woman and a young child walked into the store. I put on my best retail smile. "How may I help you today?" "My daughter needs some new shoes," the woman replied. "Tennies. And I'm not rich, so I don't want a fancy brand." I turned my attention to the daughter. "How are you, young lady? Let's get your feet measured so we know what size to get you." I sized her feet as I continued the conversation. "How's school treating you?" "Pre-school," the mom laughed. "She's 4 years old." I found an inexpensive, simple brand of shoe. "Do you like pre-school, miss?" I asked as I set the shoes down for the girl to try on. "I'm Kellie," she giggled. "Pre-school is fun. My teacher is nice." She had one shoe on by now. "What about the other kids, Kellie?" I asked curiously. Kellie laughed. "Most of them are fun. I have 4 good friends." She made a slightly sour face. "There's one boy who bugs me all the time though. I think he likes me. Boys are gross." She had her other shoe on. "Why don't you test those out?" I encouraged her. Kellie obligingly walked back and forth. "These are cool," she squeaked. "Thanks, mister." "It's Jimmy," I smiled. "I hope you don't think I'm gross." "Nope, you're good," Kellie laughed. "You're too old to be a boy." The mom smiled at me. "Thanks, Jimmy. Most clerks ignore her and talk only to me." I chuckled. "The shoes are for her, so she's the one that has to like them. She's a good kid." The mom's expression turned wistful. "I just wish she had a dad in her life." "Why doesn't she?" I asked. "You're pretty, a good parent, and a nice person. Why would anyone leave you?" The mom pulled out her credit card. "This will explain all." I looked at the name and blanched. "Oh, my gosh! I am so sorry, Karen. They never caught the guy, did they? I hope he rots in Hell." I paused for a moment. "Would you like me to come over to your house with the fixings for a nice dinner and cook you and Kellie a good meal? Say, tonight at 7?" Karen's smile was full of light. "Sure, Jimmy. What were you planning on cooking?" I grinned at the two of them. "How about steak, and a side salad?" Kellie squealed, and Karen laughed. "Sounds wonderful." That evening, I arrived with a grocery bag full of steaks and salad materials, plus bottles of sparkling cider. "I pride myself on my cooking," I told Karen and Kellie. "Give me half an hour." An hour later, I was washing the dishes in Karen's sink. "You don't have to do that," Karen protested. "You're a guest." "I want to do it," I responded. "A real man is unafraid to do housework. You are a single mom who needs a partner to help you out." Karen walked over and pressed up against me from behind. "I think you like me," she whispered. "I've been waiting a long time to find a man who cared about me and my daughter. You and I are going to have a good time tonight after she goes to bed." "That isn't --" I started to say. Karen's hand clamped over my mouth. "I know," she murmured. "And it's precisely because you came here with no such expectations that I want to get you into my bed." I shut up and finished doing the dishes. Kellie went to bed at 8:30, and by 9:00 she was asleep. Karen guided me into the master bedroom. "Don't be too loud," she whispered as she closed the door. We both removed our clothes and lay on the bed. "Karen," I murmured as I held her in my arms. "I don't want a quickie or a one-time deal. If we do this, it means you're committing to me, and me to you." "Jimmy, you're very sweet," Karen replied softly. "I understand that. Take your time, and I promise to commit to you." I kissed her lips, gently. She responded in kind. I parted my lips slightly, and she pressed hers more firmly against mine. Her tongue slid into my mouth, and I twined my own tongue with it. We held the kiss until we had to break it to breathe. I moved my lips down to her neck, giving her soft little love-nibbles and tender kisses. Karen let out an almost inaudible moan. "Keep going, Jimmy," she husked. I had no intention of stopping. I proceeded downwards to her upper chest, taking my time, kissing the very top of her pert breasts. Karen's body shivered slightly. Encouraged, I eased my way between her breasts, leaving a kiss and nibble trail through her cleavage. Her hands reached downwards and caressed my neck and back. I lifted her breasts and kissed the base, then proceeded in a helix towards her nipple. When I took it in my mouth and began to softly suckle, Karen let out a soft moan. "Mmmmm... Jimmy, that feels good." I gave her breasts additional attention, switching back and forth between her nipples. Her soft purrs and shudders of pleasure told me everything I needed to know. I took the nipple not in my mouth and rolled it gently between my fingertips. After pleasuring her breasts for a proper amount of time, I kissed my way down her belly to her mound. Her swollen clit deserved attention, so I subtly circled it with the tip of my tongue. Her body shook with pleasure. I licked along her slit to collect her honey. "I love what you're doing," Karen purred. I slipped my tongue inside her to drink directly from the source. Her legs wrapped around my head. I swirled my tongue in circles to collect every drop. Karen's body was trembling. She flooded me with her nectar and let out a muffled cry. When her legs unlocked from around my head, I saw that she'd stuffed her fist in her mouth to keep from screaming out in pleasure. "Oh my," Karen panted. "That was amazing. Lie down and let me return the favor, Jimmy." "Works for me," I breathed. I lay on my back with my legs spread. Karen got in between my legs and kissed my neck. She moved her way down to my chest, just like I had done to her. Karen laughed. "I can tell you like this." She spent a few minutes kissing my chest, causing me to shudder. "What gave it away?" I half-moaned. "My body quivering or my pole twitching with excitement?" Karen giggled. "Both." She kissed down to my stiff, throbbing rod. I shuddered as her lips touched the tip. She slipped her mouth downwards, taking in just the head, and the sensation of her tongue teasing the tip of my rod was exquisite torture. I stuffed my hand in my mouth to avoid making too much noise. Karen's hand moved to my rapidly filling balls. She scraped her fingernails gently across them, and my body shuddered. She slid her mouth farther down, running her tongue along my shaft, and my rod quivered and pulsed. Karen popped her mouth off my pecker. "Jimmy," she whispered. "How much do you like me?" I whispered back, "I'm fully committed to you, Karen." "Good," she husked. "I want to ride you and have you finish inside me. I want to be with you and have a child with you." My eyes shined with delight. "I'd love that, Karen." She slid her tight, hot box down onto my pole. I lay back and let her slide up and down on me. Her internal muscles gave me a squeeze every time she slid downwards. She was clearly trying to milk the cum out of my balls. I was very close as it was. Karen leaned her torso forward, pressed her chest against mine and kissed me deeply as she climaxed. Her orgasm set me off, and I blasted hot jets of sperm into her. Our moans were muffled by the lip-lock we were engaged in. When we both regained control of our bodies, Karen climbed off me and lay next to me. "Stay a while." "I have a better idea," I husked as I brushed my lips against her neck. "You and Kellie should move in with me. I don't actually need to work, so I can play Mr. Mom." Karen's kiss caught me by surprise with it's intensity. When she unlocked her lips from mine, she giggled, "In case you couldn't tell, that's a yes." [6 months later] "You may kiss the bride," the justice of the peace said. It was a small affair, with two of my friends as witnesses. My pregnant wife was beaming. [8 years later] "Come home at once," I said over the phone to Karen. "The news is not good." 15 minutes later, she arrived. "What's happening?" My eyes were brimming with tears. "It's Kellie. She needs a kidney transplant. If she doesn't get one she has 4 months to live." Karen's face displayed shock. "Jimmy, you've loved that child as much as if she were your own from the day we met. I think you love her more than the two sons we've had since. What can we do?" I shrugged. "We all take blood tests. If by some miracle one of us or our friends is a match, we donate one of our kidneys. Otherwise she goes on the waiting list." "Why would you take one?" Karen asked. "You're not her real father." We'd discussed that for years as well. I had pushed the cops hard to find Karen's rapist, but absolutely nothing had turned up. She and I had seen every police file, could practically recite every word on every one of the reports and witness statements. And 3 years before, the statute of limitations had run out and the police had closed the case. "I know," I replied. "But I love her, and you, and our sons, more than anything else in the world. Maybe a miracle will happen." I had cajoled all my friends, and all Karen's friends, into getting tested. Altogether, there were more than 50 of us. Blood was drawn, and there was nothing to do but wait for the results. Three days later, the phone rang. I answered. "Jimmy, you and Karen need to come down at once." It was Dr. Ross, Kellie's pediatric kidney specialist. Karen and I were in his office, with the door closed, half an hour later. The doctor looked pale. "Jimmy, you're a perfect match." Karen looked happy. "Does that mean Kellie can be saved?" Dr. Ross looked grave. "Yes, it does. Jimmy just has to agree to donate --" I interrupted. "Go ahead and put me under now, Doc. I love that girl as much as if she were my own daughter. I'll be glad to donate a kidney to save her." Dr. Ross frowned. "Jimmy, what do you mean by `as if' she were your own daughter? Kellie IS your daughter." I blanched and passed out. I was awakened by Dr. Ross placing smelling salts under my nose a couple of minutes later. "Doc, that's just not possible. You do know how Kellie came to be, right?" Dr. Ross nodded. "The whole town knows. Heck, it made national news the next day." Karen looked at me. "Jimmy, I forgive you. You yourself had no idea what happened, and you've been a perfect husband and father. Now let's get you in that OR so you can save your daughter's life." I looked at her, with pure love in my eyes. "A wonderful idea, dear." [Epilogue] Karen seemed to love me even more after that day than before. "Saving the life of my child -- our child -- put you permanently on my good list," she murmured. We raised our three kids and sent them all off to college. Karen and I are going to be a couple until separated by death. Sin & Satan Hello, my name is Akira, and I'm about to tell you one of the most daunting, the most exciting things that have happened to me. But first, a few things about myself: I am Asian/Native American, 5'2", 115lbs, long, straight dark hair with black dyed tips, dark brown eyes outlined with dark eyeliner, and I'm Goth. I love being controlled, and I love controlling. On with the tale: One night last week, I attended a local band show. The usual freaks were there; me, people I'd seen before, and my closest friends, Dario and Jina. After the show got in progress, I noticed a guy I'd never seen at any of the shows. He stood off out of the large crowd with a couple of familiar faces. I'd noticed him because I'd felt his eyes on me. I found his appearance appealing, with his black shirt and pants, long dark hair hiding his right eye, and lip ring. I embraced his eyes with mine as I stared intently back, until Jina pushed me and wanted to mosh. I forgot all about the mysterious stranger as I dodged blows and punks falling over on each other. After the long night, I kissed Jina and Dario goodnight, and they walked to their car. I stayed after to talk to the group who'd put on the show, and they asked me for my number so we could catch up later on. I pulled on my coat over my short dark green skirt, fishnet tights with my black boots, and revealingly low black top, and headed towards my ride. As I passed a storage building (the show was at an abandoned church), the hairs on my neck stood up and I received chillingly equal bumps on my arms. I stopped and stood still; waiting to see what caught my attention, when I saw a shadow from behind me. I turned to see who it was, but before I could someone else jumped from somewhere in the dark and grabbed me. With a hand over my mouth, and strong arms holding mine to my side, the two drug me behind the building. Usually, I don't like to take shit from people, so I fought back, kicking hard and biting at the hand at my lips. They solely tightened their grasp and forced me hard to the wall. The back of my head came it contact with the stone, and I grew dizzy a moment. The guys restraining me against the building blurred and distorted before coming back into focus. Though the light was dim from the street poles, there was a full bright moon out, and I could make out that one of the strangers was the one with whom I'd locked eyes with earlier in the night, the second one was a face I'd known from a previous concert. He had black hair with red streaks, and his hair just touched the bottom of his ears. I made no sound as he withdrew his hand from my mouth, and the one with the lip ring grinned at me. He introduced himself as Satan (which obviously was a nick name) and his friend with the red streaks was Zygi. Zygi leaned over and whispered in my ear, "You are extremely beautiful, and we would like to take you home with us." I shrugged his head away from mine and said, "Thanks, but I'm not interested." Satan lifted my face up to look into his and replied, "Oh, but it's not optional, you see, you will come with us, whether you oblige to or not." I merely narrowed my eyes and jerked my face away. They laughed amusingly and proceeded to take me to their car. I drew a breath to scream, but Zygi evidently expected a little disagreement, for the fact that he stuck me with a sharp object, in all probability a knife. I shut my mouth and stopped struggling, while they opened the door and threw me in the back, with Zygi following me. Satan walked around to the driver's side, and got in. Zygi had me face away from him while Satan threw him some cuffs, which Zygi persistently stuck on my wrists. Satan started the engine, and pulled out of the parking lot, and Zygi spun me around until I could feel his breath on the skin of my breasts, which were barely covered, because he took off my jacket. "And where the hell do you think you're taking me, bastards?" Satan tapped the brakes and I flew forward a little, falling onto the floorboard. Zygi lingered over me with the knife, rubbing my cheek first, and then moved down to my lips. I started to say something else, but he pricked my top lip with the tip, saying,"Shh, now baby, we going to a place where we can make all the racket we want. Satan here's wanted a little malevolent angel, like you. And he sure has intelligent eyes, finding you, a mystifying creature." He allowed me to speak, and I growled," Don't touch me again, fuck face." The driver let out a witty laugh and commented, "Jeeze, Zygi, you're a real gentleman. She loves you already." Zygi just hissed between his teeth and grinned. My mind was racing, 'Well, what the hell now?', I asked myself, 'you wait, that's what, then find the right moment and run.' The car came to a sudden halt, and again, I was thrown forward. Satan opened the door on my side and tried to grab me as his friend pushed me out, but he wasn't ready and I crashed into him. I did my best to knock him over, my hands still behind my back from the cuffs, I was rewarded when he fell. I took off over him, and three steps, I believe, when Zygi came airborne out of the car to capture me. Landing hard, I tried to roll over and get up, when Satan was standing directly over me. I didn't move, just glared up at him, while Zygi jerked me up until I was standing. With the two walking me roughly to the cabin standing about 20 feet away, I tried to slow my heart down. Satan walked in front, and Zygi behind with a death grip on my hair. The door was opened and light switched off, I was thrown into pitch black onto something soft, perhaps a bed. One of them tied a blindfold around my eyes, removed the metal manacles, and ordered me to not move. I listened intently to what they were doing, but I couldn't tell exactly. "The click of a lighter? Drawers opening and searched through? For what?" I thought... "What's wrong there, dark one" a ragged low voice inquired, and I guessed it was Satan. The bed shifted, and I supposed that he was real close to me. Of course, I said nothing. Fingertips brushed my jaw, and I bit the hand that touched me. He didn't as much as grunt, just used his other hand to remove my blind. I blinked my eyes a few times, and then was looking straight into his profound black eyes, yawning windows of iniquity, and I glimpsed the wickedness behind his smile. I felt in danger being just 6 inches from his face, and something rose inside my chest. My fear had taken over me completely, turning me into a frightened soul, but I tried to not let him know I was scared. I had to break the stare, turning my head away to face the rest of the room, which was now lit with quite a few candles. Zygi was sitting on a chair not too far away, and the bastard smirked at the look I gave him. 'Where was the knife?' I wondered, 'did they put it down?' As if Zygi read my mind, he tossed the knife on the edge of the bed out of my reach, but in Satan's long one. He stretched over me to retrieve it, and my breast brushed his arm. I shrank away and snarled defiantly, and he straddled my stomach with his knees. I felt his hand at the top of my skirt, and then the cold metal of the blade. "Do you want me to stop?" I nodded and bit my lip, gradually becoming more and more aroused. "Too bad..." he said and started trailing the knife up my belly, cutting my blouse and my hands came up to prevent him from catching my skin. He was faster than I, and had my arms pinned to my side as before, and asked Zygi to tie them to the posts of the bed. He had no need to restrain my legs, being that he was sitting over them. He slipped my shredded blouse out from under me, and removed my skirt as well, leaving me in my black bra, black thong and nets. Satan let out a long whistle, and devoured my body with his damned eyes. I didn't blink as he undid my bra, and slipped my thong down. He told me to behave as he leaned up to remove his shirt, pants and boxers. I took in all of his maleness, his broad shoulders, his firm stomach and abs, his thighs, and I screamed inside when I came to his rod, trying not to look stunned at the enormous size. I tried to let him see my hatred and abhorrence while he slipped his hand between my soft thighs, and ran a finger over my outer lips, stopping just short of coming in contact with my clit, which was already swollen with desire. "Do you hate me yet?" he asked, slowly kneeling down between my legs. "You're gonna burn in hell, you fucking fiend," I spat out, trying to close my legs. Again, he was stronger, and held my thighs apart, lowering his head to my femaleness, flicking his tongue out and catching my clit, rubbing it in small circles. Fire shot through my lower body as he continued, and I held back a low moan. He ran his nails over my stomach and sides, spreading the stimulation up more. When I was ready to explode, he slipped a finger inside me, and sucked gently on my clit. My body froze and convulsed, going wild. His nails dug deep into my butt, and I gasped at the pleasure and ache. He licked his lips and returned above me, this time using my legs to straddle his hips. "Am I fucking wicked?" he whispered, "how do you like having a demon for a lover?" I whimpered and struggled, being scared that he would hurt me and make me bleed, for that he was so large. He pressed the head against my wet lips, and I froze once again, longing for his dick to be deep inside me. He ran the blade of his knife over the skin of my thigh, up to my belly, dipping just deep enough and hard enough to leave a small trickle of dark red blood. I jerked and started to oppose this action, when he plunged his immense shaft just inside my hole, and I felt the pain of both stomach and vagina, shuddering. Satan let out a long breath, and glanced sideways at Zygi, still enjoying the show from the shadows. Satan sank another inch into me, and I yelped from being stretched so far. Being Asian, I am small and will always remain small, no matter how much sex I have, and I knew that I was bleeding. I figured he was only in 4 inches or so, still having 4 more to go. A tear trickled from my eye, and I wished it hadn't, for this encouraged his torture. He thrusted again, deeper and deeper, until I had to scream from the intense throbbing between my thighs. He let go of the knife, knowing I couldn't reach it with my wrists tied up, and grabbed my head on either side of my face and kissed me deep and longingly. His tongue ravaged my mouth, his teeth biting my lips, drawing blood from my lower lip. He pulled all the way out slowly, and then tenderly slid his swollen dick back into my vagina. It hurt still, but was number than anything, and Satan withdrew his rod again. He grabbed his hard hot pole and rubbed my clit with the tip, which was moist and warm. I he rammed it back into me, all the way this time, then took it back out. He laid down on top of me, and ran his hands over my firm breasts, circling the nipples, yet not touching them. They were begging for attention, and he wouldn't give it to them, dominating my pleasure, holding me from it. His licked my neck and my ear, blowing gently were he licked, sending chills down my spine and making my nipples harder. He bit into my neck, not hard, but enough to leave a mark, and held onto my head at the same time. I moaned with the excitement of it all, throwing my head back, exposing my neck to him, trusting the devil with my life, closing my eyes and loving it. He let go of my neck, and kissed the underside of my chin, twisting his fingers in my hair for a better grip. The numbness resided slowly from my vagina, and I whispered frantically, "Take me, Satan, fucking take me to hell." He reached down for the blade again, and set his hips between my legs, picking me up off the bed, he slashed out with the knife, and set my wrists free. My arms came up and around his strong shoulders, and he set me down on his shaft slowly, making sure I wasn't too sore. I didn't care, I needed him, I loved his wickedness and malice, forced his head down to my neck, and he bit down to my bliss. He started driving his dick in and out, slow at first, then faster, holding on to my hair with one hand, trailing my back with the knife, nicking me occasionally, building my orgasm up more and more. I was close, so close, I could feel the fires of torment aflame in my stomach. He let go of my neck, dropped the blade and held onto my hair, pulling my head back far, riding me like his own fist. "Yeah, you know you like that, you fucking sex demon," he whispered, "I'm your malevolent pleasure, your anguish and suffering. You love it, baby..." His dark words ran through my mind, with the misuse and ordeal, my hands were still on his shoulders, I dug my long black nails into his skin, being sharpened for such an act. He gasped and plunged deeper into my soul, feeling my fire from inside, lighting us ablaze from within. "Damn you...fucking damn you..." I drawled out, seconds from my release. He let one of his hands from my hair, and reached for the nearest candle on the nightstand. I felt my muscles contracting, tightening, ready to die, and he pulled my head back further, thrusting my breasts aloft, and dripped the hot smoldering wax from the candle between them, trickling slowly down my chest, leaving a fiery trail and sizzling heat, then all of a sudden, without warning, I grew frenzied with another orgasm, and unconstrained my tenseness, arching my back further, and grinding my hips harder into his stomach. He let go of my hair and head, threw the candle, and seized my waist, bouncing me high and hard. He let out a loud groan, caught his breath and came explosively inside me. Satan tensed and shook with the waves of his orgasm, throes of damnation and sin. I grabbed his long hair and rode his dick extensively, drawing out his release longer using my femaleness, he screamed and drove into me hard once more, liberating his aching spirit again and again. Finally we could take no more and collapsed altogether. I fell into the realms of sleep, dreaming a great serenity of indulgence. When I awoke, Zygi was gone, and Satan was slumbering peacefully by my side. He was still naked, as I, and the candles were long burnt out. I slipped out from under his arm, trying not to wake him. He stirred, but didn't say anything, and I hoped he was still asleep. I reached for my clothes, spread out everywhere, and froze. Something inside me whispered teasingly, saying 'You know you want him, stay longer...' I walked past my clothes, exploring the small cabin. I glanced into the kitchen, then passed the bathroom. A pair of his pants were lying on a dresser, and I dug through them, searching for a wallet. I found it, and pulled it open, staring right at his driver's license. His real name was Jacob Ray, age 26. I thought for a second, heading towards the bathroom. I turned the shower on, and stepped in after it warmed up. About 5 minutes later, the door opened, and I turned around. Jacob was standing there beautifully bare still, with a slight gleam in his eyes. I invited him with a flick of my wrist, and he welcomed my warm wet body with his dry one. Pushing me against the shower wall, he lifted me up and set me about his hard on. He looked deep into my eyes and kissed my lips without breaking the stare. I moaned his name and he shivered with delight and wonder. I whispered, "I like Satan better" and he laughed quietly, "I still don't know your name, my sex demon." I traced his collarbone with my finger, and slit his neck with a nail. I kissed the wound, soaking up his vulnerableness with pleasure. "Just call me Sin." Sin and Seduction I was surprised as well as a little shocked when Jessica made a pass at me during a sleepover. It was just a kiss, but wow! I had never tasted lips quite that soft and sweet. Actually, my experience up until now had been pretty limited. There didn't seem to be any harm in simply making out; a little experimentation might be healthy. At least, that's what Jessica claimed. Jessica's luscious French kiss was better than anything I had experienced with the few boys I've dated. There really wasn't anything to worry about. Jessica has many boyfriends, and certainly isn't queer or anything. I wasn't a lesbian. Jessica explained that once in a while we are entitled to have a little "innocent girl fun." Then after a few more soulful kisses, she began to undress me. I thought to myself, "okay, but only down to bra and panties." If Jessica wanted to see my body that bad, there was no reason for me to be such a prudish spoilsport. It would be worth a laugh as long as it didn't go too far. What was the big deal, anyway? We'd seen each other naked many times in gym class. A few minutes later she coyly fingered my belly button, and asked if I liked it. I giggled and said yes, even though I was a little embarrassed. To be honest, it made me sort of wet. Such an unexpected pleasure. Maybe my bra could come off as long Jessica let me remove her's too. The more we kissed, the thought of seeing Jessica's bare nipples started to make me very wet. I wondered how they might feel pressing and rubbing against my own. Without any further urging, I slowly unhooked my bra and let it fall to the ground. Normally I tend to be rather shy when it comes to exposing myself, but this felt like the right thing to do. Perhaps this kind of experimentation would be a good learning experience, considering that it would never ever happen again in a million years. Might as well go for it. Jessica's eyes widened as she gazed at my naked breasts. It felt good that my body could turn another girl on like this. To my delight, Jessica reached behind her back, and removed her top as well. Now we were two naughty girls having a little bare-breasted innocent girl fun. Jessica leaned forward, and tentatively licked each of my nipples. She looked up and gave me a leering smile. I involuntarily gasped when she applied light pinches with her thumb and forefinger to my right nipple while sweetly suckling the left one. My nipples got bigger and harder than I had ever seen or felt before. I thought they would pop off my chest as each slow lap of Jessica's tongue around the areolas was followed by rapid titty flicks. She pressed her breasts to mine and began to deftly sway back and forth allowing the tips of our fully-erect nipples to make contact. Every time her large brown nipples touched my large pink ones it caused an electrically charged sexual spark. "What's next?," she mused. Without waiting for an answer, she placed languid wet kisses all over my tummy and abdomen. She stopped and gazed lovingly at my mid-section. "I think this little button on your belly needs some serious attention. Just looking at it gets me so friggin' hot." Jessica directed her tongue all around the perimeter and then directly inside. She found my belly knot that was hidden just below the upper edge of my navel, wiggled her tongue, and introduced me to the delights of a lusty belly button kiss. "I could lick your belly button all night," she cooed. Letting a girl like Jessica take such audacious liberties with my body felt liberating. No one had ever done this to me before. I'm eighteen, and still a virgin. No boy had ever gotten this far with me yet. First Jessica's mouth and fingers were all over my nipples and now she was actually licking my belly button! She was obviously loving every minute of it. And so was I. When Jessica decided to peel off my panties, I couldn't find the will to put up any resistance. We both laughed when she hung them around my big toe, and I waved my foot around. "Now we're really gonna have some innocent girl fun," she giggled. "Just lay back and enjoy it. Spread your legs and let me do the rest."

 She gently pressed her lips to my glistening vagina, and ran her tongue up and down the slit. I could hear her breathing heavily. I became aware of my own heavy panting as Jessica lasciviously sampled my wet pussy. Her arms stretched forward so that her fingertips could stimulate my nipples at the same time. This triggered a wave of pleasure that exceeded anything I had ever experienced while masturbating. I was having my first real orgasm. The release from my climax surprised me. It was so overwhelming that I burst into tears. Jessica could hardly contain herself. "This is so awesome. I haven't even licked your clit yet." While choking back tears of ecstasy, I kept my legs spread and let her continue. She fingered me while using her lips to nibble softly around the clitoral hood. "There it is," she said. "There's that little man in the boat I've been looking for. Look, he's standing up!" I suppressed an urge to moan, but when her tongue repeatedly massaged my love button, she had me whimpering aloud. It felt like I was speaking in tongues as my carnal juices flowed freely. This forbidden pleasure exceeded and obliterated all semblance of shame and guilt for being naked and letting myself be used like this. For the next twenty minutes she made me cum again and again even though I knew it was wrong. Jessica had led me into sin. There was nothing innocent about this kind of fun. She had led me into sin for her own selfish gratification, and ultimately for mine. I could never change the fact that I had willingly lain nude and compliant to the lecherous ways of another girl. I could never change the fact that I had willingly allowed her to taste my nipples, my belly button, my vagina, and my clitoris. That's what I did. I allowed another girl to lick my nipples, my belly button, my vagina, and my clitoris. Nobody forced me. And it felt so damn good. We kissed. I could taste the sweetness of my sin and my body on her tongue. Jessica stood up. I knelt and kissed her belly while my hands anxiously reached out and peeled off her thong. Now it was my turn.