0 comments/ 41050 views/ 2 favorites The Scene By: Paraffin “I don’t know what to say…I’m just overwhelmed,” Sophie finally managed to murmur in response to her host’s question. “I’ve honestly never been to a party like this. Thank you so much for having me.” Oliver beamed. “Don’t be silly. We’re just glad you could come on such short notice. When Gillian told me what a charming young woman she’d met this morning we both realized that you were just the addition we needed to make our guest list complete.” True, there hadn’t been much time since the matronly woman she’d met on the bus called to invite her. But Gillian insisted that one of her nieces had an appropriate dress Sophie could borrow, and she just couldn’t pass up such an opportunity. On the long bus ride uptown, Gillian had told her all about the black tie dinner she was arranging for that evening. All by candlelight, two hundred dollar bottles of champagne, the hors d’oeuvres, the roast duck, the beautiful people. It was all true, Sophie thought, already light-headed from the champagne, as she watched the dimly lit clusters of guests, their laughter filling the hall. “Come. Let me introduce you to a few people.” Oliver passed his hand down her back as he steered her toward a group of people. The dress reacted as his fingers caught on the delicate silk, pulling tight across her breasts. Sophie blushed, although she knew Oliver couldn’t know what he’d done. The dress was beautiful. Buttercup yellow with a low-cut front that showed off her smooth pale skin, and tiny buttons all down the front. It was fitted, cut perfectly to follow the curve of her hips. The only problem was that she’d only had a black bra with her, which showed through the flimsy dress and there was no way she could wear it. Gillian had laughed and assured her that it didn’t matter, but Sophie could feel her nipples harden as the fabric brushed across them, and she was petrified that it might be just a bit too transparent. Thank god it was so dark. “Let me introduce Sophie,” said Oliver, and a round of introductions ensued. Too many names, dimly lit faces. Sophie caught none of them and happily fell back as they carried on their conversation. They were talking about a film they’d all seen. Some dark new mystery Sophie had never heard of. A waiter brought a fresh glass of champagne and she let her mind drift in and out of the conversation. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry! How could I have done that?!” The woman next to her had gotten passionately involved in a disagreement about whether or not the film had built up sufficient suspense before revealing something or other and as she made her point she threw up her hands, spilling her entire glass of champagne across Sophie. “It’s really alright. It’s not a problem.” Sophie laughed with the others but turned away quickly to rush off to the ladies room. She had felt the ice-cold champagne splash across her left breast and was sure she must have a case of “wet t-shirt.” As she started away Gillian’s hand wrapped tightly around her arm. “Mark, dear,” she said to a thin man who had appeared at her side, “what am I going to do? This is one of Anne’s best dresses. If she comes home and finds it stained I’ll never hear the end of it. You’re so good with these things…” “Certainly,” he said with a nod of his head. “I can take care of it,” blurted Sophie too loudly, trying to pull away. She had glanced down and seen her fears justified. The wet fabric clung to her and the pink of her nipple stood out, as exposed as if she’d been undressed. Exposed in a room of strangers. Gillian’s hand tightened around her arm and she whispered sternly in Sophie’s ear, “You will not make a scene.” Then, in a calm voice: “Mark is a fabric designer. There is no one better to save the day.” Sophie was silenced. She understood the importance of the dress. It really was the most beautiful, delicate things she’d ever worn. The owner had left it at her aunt’s with some other things while she was traveling. If it were hers, Sophie wouldn’t have lent it to her best friend, let alone a stranger. Still, Gillian’s admonition and steel grip were unexpected and harsh. There was nothing she could do but follow this man, close to a table where there was more candlelight. He studied the pinkish stain, but Sophie only felt his eyes studying her breast, watching her quiver, enjoying her painful embarrassment. “Tsk, tsk,” was all he said, dipping his handkerchief into a glass of water. He started at the outside of the stain, gently dabbing at, then brushing across the edge of her underarm. The water was icy and sent more shivers through her. “The secret,” he said, “is patience. You need to work slowly with silks like these, sucking out the stain drop by drop.” Then he worked in studious silence, bending over her intently, dropping the handkerchief in more water and slowly working toward the center of the stain. Dip, dab, brush, Dip, dab, brush. Sophie found herself growing as intent as he, watching the spot grow fainter and fainter and feeling the tiniest scratch of his fingers as they came closer and closer to her nipple. She couldn’t help herself. She blushed even more deeply, embarrassed to feel herself growing aroused and impatient. All of her senses were focused on his two fingers working their way along her body. She let out a moan. Almost imperceptibly. Had he hear? Sophie got hold of herself and checked his face. No, he didn’t seem to have noticed. His face was now just inches from her. Dip, dab, brush. Closer..closer…there. Her breath quickened. He had to hear her heart pounding as his fingers flicked across the tip of her nipple. It was cold; a fingernail grazed her; she stiffened, suddenly aware of how wet she was, aware that she wanted those two deft fingers to find their way down, down to her clit to dab and brush across her there, slowly, slowly. She pulled her eyes away. “Mustn’t think like this,” she told herself and forced herself to look up at the ceiling. Focus on something else. Suddenly, she felt a last, warm flick across her nipple and heard him say “All done.” “My god,” she thought. “Was that…was that his tongue? Could he have…?” She looked around. Her back was to the room. She’d been afraid to keep watching him. He could have stolen one quick taste of her. Had he? Gillian reappeared. “Mark, you’re such a love. What would we do without you? You know Anne would have just killed me.” She wrapped her arm in Sophie’s and was leading her into the next room. It seemed everyone was sitting down for dinner. Sophie felt weak. She was exhausted, frustrated, her body still aching with desire. Was it the champagne? As Oliver offered her a chair in the middle of the long table, she realized that she was still exposed. She could feel the dress, so carefully moistened and dabbed, pressed up cold against her breast and knew that, even in this light, they could see every curve of her. She could still run to the bathroom, dry off there before returning. She pushed back and her chair made a loud scraping noise. Once again, Gillian, sitting down next to her, placed a firm hand on her arm. “I told you: do not make a scene in front of these people,” she hissed. “Collect yourself.” Gillian beamed across the table. No one had heard her, and she began to chatter with her guests. Sophie was baffled by Gillian’s nasty asides, but no one seemed to pay much attention to Sophie anyway. Not that she looked around to check. She focused on her soup, nervously watching down the front of herself, wishing herself invisible amongst all of these sophisticated people and, at the same time, unable to stop imagining that darting tongue flicking across her nipple that still seemed to beg for attention. Her nervous excitement kept her distracted until the main course, by which time her dress had dried and she was able to look up and exchange a few words with the portly gentleman next to her without fear of calling attention to herself. And then, just as the duck was being served, she felt it. Under the table. The faintest touch across her calf. Had she imagined it? She couldn’t tell. The tablecloth draped down around her lap. When she dropped a napkin to take a peek, a waiter appeared out of nowhere to hand her a fresh one before she could even bend down. No, she must have imagined it. But there it was again, brushing the inside of her knee. She tried to kick out, but found that she couldn’t. There was someone there, and he held her feet hard, immovably, sliding them slightly, but forcibly, apart. Sophie panicked. She looked around her. No one noticed anything wrong. Where was Mark? He’d been sitting down near the head of the table, she was sure. An empty seat. How could he have gotten under the table unnoted? How could he— The hand. It was back at the side of her knee, slid dartingly up her thigh, then was gone. “Oh, yes, let’s do!” someone yelled out. “It’s always surprising which ones you miss,” said the man at her side. “I have always boasted a very discriminating palate, but last time I missed mint jelly. I still don’t understand it. How could anyone miss mint jelly?” “I beg your pardon?” said Sophie, desperately trying to concentrate. The hand ran up her thigh, sliding her dress up with it. “The game,” he said. “We do this every time. Always an education, I say. A few of us put on blindfolds and are fed random foods—nothing foul, mind you—that we have to identify. We started out with wines a few years back, but realized it was too damned hard for some of us, so we decided to try more basic tastes—cashews, mandarins. You’d be surprised what you miss. Mint jelly, for christ’s sake.” Sophie nodded and tried to appear interested, but her mind remained under the table, where her dress had been pushed back to her lap. She looked at Gillian and could feel her icy words: Do not make a scene. Gillian was now caught up in the excitement of the game and looked over at Sophie with the sparkling eyes that had made her open up and start talking to her on the train only this morning. “Sophie!” Gillian screamed out. “Sophie! Yes!” It was Mark’s voice. He was back in his seat. The hand traced the edge of her panties, lingered, teased her as it danced, now inching closer, closer, then disappearing. Sophie could hardly keep still. It didn’t matter whose hand it was. She wished it would go away, but she didn’t want it to stop. She barely resisted when he inched her legs farther apart. “Close your eyes!” said Oliver, reaching around from behind her to put on the blindfold. Sophie jumped, startled. “It’s the game,” the man on her right said, taking her hand. “You’re one of the tasters.” As Oliver secured the blindfold, Gillian grasped her left hand. “One of our newer rules,” explained Oliver. “You’d be surprised how many people instinctively try to grab at the spoon. Gillian never would have gotten the squid if she hadn’t touched it first.” “Don’t be ridiculous, Oliver,” said Gillian, with a playful squeeze of Sophie’s hand. “I could smell squid from the next room.” Sophie felt dizzy. Fingers brushed against the front of her panties, skimmed her clit. She gasped. The fingers moved faster. She felt her lips swell. She opened her legs wider without any prompting. “Let’s see,” said Oliver. “Where should we begin?” Sophie heard plates sliding. Was the tablecloth drawn back? Giggling. “Open wide.” Something cold and sharp slid under the side of her panties. Snip. Sophie reddened. Gillian laughed and gently squeezed her jaw. “Open up, little Sophie. Tell us what you taste.” Snip. The other side of her panties fell free. She felt the faintest stirring, breathing, almost touching her. “Give it to her!” a voice across the room squealed. A warm spoonful slid into Sophie’s mouth. She seized upon it, wrapped her lips around it and let out an irrepressible moan. He wouldn’t touch her. She could feel his breath. It was so close. She opened her legs wider, begging for him. A man moaned across the table. Another taster? “What do you think, Sophie?” cried out Oliver’s jolly voice. “Liver pate?” Sophie’s voice couldn’t hide her desire. “Oh. I…I need more…I don’t know.” A deep laugh. Mark’s? Oliver refused. “Tapioca pudding, my sweet. Tapioca. You’ll have to do better on round two.” Then he seemed to be distracted. Someone at his end of the table was taking his first taste and must have spit it out. The room erupted into laughter and everyone was shouting at once. Sophie waited, her mouth just open, in readiness, when Gillian hissed in her ear, “I can smell you.” She pulled Sophie’s arm back. “I know what’s happening. Do you think we’re all blind?” Sophie quaked. The hand was back and her head was spinning. There was so much noise. “He’s never liked garlic. You knew that!” Was Gillian unbuttoning her dress? “Pass it over here. I’ll have a bite of that.” “Don’t spill it on the table—you’ll smear the glass!” “Back here! Round two! Back to Sophie!” yelled out the man on her right, and he waved her hand in the air, pulling it back like Gillian had. “If you make a scene….” whispered Gillian. He touched the very tips of her closely cropped pubic hairs. She could feel the hand dancing all around her. She could feel his warmth just on the edge of her pussy. She was dripping. Her longing was like pain. “I think she’s going to like this one,” boomed Oliver. “Open up!” “If you make a scene…” She could barely hear Gillian’s voice. “…I am not going to shield you, little Sophie. Everything’s out in the open here.” Once again, Sophie thought she felt a button snap, then the drag of the dress pulling across her nipples. Oliver gently tipped her head back and she moistened her lips before giving them to him. Gillian’s mouth was touching her ear. “You’re going to make a scene, then.” Sophie screamed. His tongue devoured her. The honey Oliver drizzled into her mouth lost its way down her chin, down her neck. She was ready to cum the second he touched her. Her moans were met with others, and a voice—she couldn’t tell them apart anymore—begged to lick up the honey. “Only if she begs,” suggested another. Fingers were deep inside of her now. She knew they were all watching as the honey oozed down her belly…further. “Please!” she pleaded. “Is that begging?” “I’m not sure she wants you.” “Please!!” she screamed. Her arms were still pulled behind her, but she managed to arch her back, reaching for the mouth she knew was ready for her tits. It was right in front of her. The honey engulfed her. It poured over her clit and into her as mouths descended upon her. Greedily now, no more teasing. Digging into one nipple. Sucking the other. A tongue working her clit and new the fingers inside of her were a cock thrusting through her. She had stopped trying to understand where they were all coming from and let herself go. She heard Gillian from somewhere: “Give us a scene, little Sophie. Cum for us.” And she did, and then again. And again. The Scene A woman stands alone on the street; she knows He is out there. Waiting for her, watching her. She shivers with fear and excitement, knowing He will strike soon. She hurries her pace, trying to get away but not wanting too. Suddenly a noise in the shadows distracts her. It's only a cat, as she turns He stands before her. Quickly He has her by the throat, turning her before Him. "you are Mine," she almost hears in her mind. She is lifted into the air, landing hard upon his shoulder. They are moving faster than she thought possible; she knows it must be His madness driving him to such risks. To actually appear in the open even at night, He must want her. Now in darkness she feels herself tied, though not unpleasant to her, she knows she will not escape this time. Rope bites into her skin at ankle and wrist, but now it is around her throat also. "No escape for you this time." Hisses between his teeth. Suddenly a knife seems to appear from nowhere, to bite the skin of her throat. She realizes now that this is no game; He will have her even if it means her death. She feels the ropes tighten, and the warm trickle of her own blood on her naked skin as she is lifted into the air. Now she realizes why the rope is around her throat, as it tightens little by little slowly cutting off the air from her lungs. Bright lights come on and she sees Him standing before her, a faint maniac smile crosses his lips. She sees she is a position she can never escape, her fear rises clouding her already darkening thoughts. She looks around from her hanging position seeing the others hung in much the same way she is, some already dead, others looking as if they are about to die. Wondering why He hunts them, but she already knows it is the Law. Over the centuries, He and his kind have always hunted her kind. Taken then to the House, hung them from the rafters to die a bloody painful death. It is the way of this world. She smiles at what is to come. Staring from across the room, He sees her smile. His own faltering for but a moment, then he springs to the ropes above her. It is time. Slowly He pulls her up into the loft; every thing has been made ready. She will not escape Him this time; this one is fast, and slippery. Laying her out on the floor, He cuts her loose from the ropes. Holding her tightly by the throat He brings her to the table. Still covered with the remains of the last to lay there. With the sweep of a powerful arm the remains are swept away onto the floor. Binding her hand and foot with fast easy movements, He knows she will not escape as she did before. Now she is almost ready. She knows what will happen now. She is prepared for it. No escape this time. She relaxes and awaits her fate at His hand. He is coming back so she plays to be unconscious for she will not be able to later. "Oh My sweet, what great things we have in store for you." Hissed through a closed mouth. "You shall be the best yet, you who have escaped once." Slowly he cuts away her cloths, carefully missing her skin. First her skirt is rendered to rags, then her blouse follows suit. She never expected such tenderness from such a creature. The careful way He cut away her clothes, almost as if in regret. His hands, such as he has, caress her body softly massaging her breasts. Her body and mind react, she arches toward his touch, never having felt this kind attention He is showing her. Her mind begins to wonder if all the stories are true, of the death and blood They shed in service to the LAW. A growl escapes His lips as she responds to his touch. "Good you are almost ready." His touch becomes a bit rougher; she reacts to as before. Enjoying this new touch even more as His hand comes to rest on her sex. Feeling him slowly part her with his fingers she moans. His fingers find her moist and warm, almost ready as He had thought before. Slowly with care, His finger enters her, finding her pleasure point with practiced care. Feeling her body react to this, he pushes in further, rubbing her with His thumb on the outside, while pressing his finger with in her. She moans with pleasure at this unexpected sexual advance from Him. Soon she will cum in violent spasms, He must know by her reaction for He withdraws his hand from her expecting the bite of the knife again, is surprised when He Mounts the table over her. She feels Him on top of her, pushing Himself with in her. Her mind explodes with pleasure as she feels his size enter her. Trying to ride Him to His full length, yet He holds Himself just beyond her reach. Smiling at her he says, "Not yet." On top of her He has entered her partly for need and for pleasure. Smiling He holds Himself just out of her reach only giving her enough to tease with. He knows she is closer than He is. With a quick movement he drives himself all the way into her, listening to her screams of pleasure. She feels him shift, then he is within her all the way, shock, pleasure and pain race across her body as she screams out wanting more. Slowly he withdraws and thrusts back within her again and again. She feels her pleasure building with each stroke finally she can hold back any longer, on a very deep thrust from him she releases herself to the pleasure as it racks her body with spasms. He feels her tight on him and knows with the next thrust she will release, He shifts Himself to go all the way within her. As He does He releases with her, their screams and growls mingle to become their music. Now that they are done, he has untied her from the table and carried her to the waiting bath. Washing her, tending to the cut on her neck. She looks at him, "Master what is it that made you think of this scene for us this night?" He looks into her eyes, "When we first meet you told me a fantasy you had since you where young, I have now brought it to life." Smiles down at her. She lays her head on his hand and kisses it, "Thank you, Master." After her bath he carries her to the bed they share. Together, touching in a lover's embrace they fall a sleep to dream. The Scene THE SCENE He has been working at the computer for what seems like days, not moving From the chair less it be to go to the bathroom or move his back and stretch After all he is a writer and once he gets started he won't come up for hours. I hear him moan once in a while, cuss too. Maybe I can help him relax. Heading into the bedroom taking off everything except my little black thong I have been saving just for something like this. I look into the mirror to fuss with my hair and lipstick. I feel all of a sudden a little nervous. I see Boo our cat laying at the foot or our bed watching me with a bored look on her face. She is use to me telling her all my worries and woes. Ever since Kathleen called all excited about what happened at the cabin. I have been feeling lonely and a little depressed. Thank goodness Gavin was there to get her out of that cabin after the roof caved In on her in that snow storm. What she told me happened later between them only happens in books. What a romantic, erotic few days she had with him. She is so lucky to have found someone like him. Sometimes I wish Vincent was that sexual with me. I know I am not too knowledgeable in the sex department. I have in the past few months taken up reading some erotic romance books to see what all the hype is about. I have read his books too. I wonder why we haven't done some of the things in them. I looked over at Boo. She is looking at me as if to say, well go out there and start something you big ninny. Taking a last look at myself in the mirror, I blew her a kiss and headed for the front room. I stepped out of the bedroom and walked up behind him, running my fingers Down his long blonde hair, pulling the holder out of it so it would fall loose over his shoulders like I like. I leaned down and kissed the top of his head moving in a little so my breasts where touching the back of his head. He reached up still reading what he had just written and kissed my hand. "Are you going to be much longer?" I asked hoping he would notice my breasts rubbing his head. "MMMM..maybe I just can't get this one scene right....AGHHH...it is just driving me crazy!" he said. I wanted him to see me, so I grabbed the chair, swung it around so his eyes where level with my breasts. He started to say something. I stepped back quickly so he could see me standing there in only my black thong. "Does this help?" I ask with my sexiest grin. For a moment he didn't say anything just looked at me and I could swear his Ice blue eyes for a moment got darker, a slow smile formed on his mouth. "Lovely, he said, just lovely!" I watched as his eyes moved slowly up to my face, I knew I had him, he wanted me. "It can wait for a while" I said in a soft voice, "come to bed with me, love me" "Yes, it can wait." he said staring at my black thong like he was in a trance "Wait! What can wait for a while?" he asked shaking his head to clear it. "The scene, the story, the DAMN book!" I said a little louder, getting angry. "Ah, my sweet" he said in a low voice "as much as I would like to take you right now, I have to get this finished by tomorrow, please try and understand?" And with that he swung the chair around and was back typing again, leaving Me standing there with my thong in my butt as it were and a big "loser" sign on my head. I stood there for a minute just staring at his back and breathing hard, Thinking I could take this throng off, wrap it around his throat and Squeeze! Instead I just took it off and threw it at him as I walked to the bedroom. "I am taking a shower I said and going to bed! Have fun with your scene!" All I heard was a grunt from him and the typing of the keys. I went into to bathroom started the shower, fuming all the while at him. Our shower is large enough for two a walk in shower they call it. I closed the door and reached into my private cabinet where I hid the vibrator I brought last week, the lady at the store said it would help. Even told me how to use it for "the best orgasm I ever had! "She said. So, I stepped into the shower the warm water felt good running down my body as I wet my hair and washed it, smelling roses and spice coming from the shampoo. I reached for my soap and a sponge, started to rub soft scented lather all over my breasts. Feeling them stand up a little at my touch, I must be hornier than I thought. I ran the sponge down my stomach and slowly around to my backside, I closed my eyes, thought of "his hands" doing it. I always wondered what it would be like to make love in the shower. I moved the sponge back around down my stomach until it reached the top of my womanhood; I opened my legs a little and slowly moved it down in between my legs. The softness of the sponge felt nice as I moved it back and forth, thinking of his hands doing this. It felt so real that I started to breathe hard as the sponge moved in and out of my legs rubbing just the inside of my wet lips. It felt so good. I moved closer to the glass of the shower and placed my hand on the glass to steady myself, I placed my leg on the little seat there to get a better reach of my now throbbing clit. I closed my eyes again and saw him there kneeling, his hands on my butt cheeks pulling me closer to his mouth and tongue. I reached for the vibrator placed it onto my clit. Seeing in my mind his tongue working on my clit as his fingers invade inside me. First one then two. I started to move my "little battery lover" back and forth, liking the feel of The hum is giving. I reached up with my other hand and pulled on my nipple, moaning a little as I did, seeing his hand there pulling and tweaking it. Getting into this now I moved "my new lover" back more to just touch the opening of my pussy, starting to slide it in. Wanting it to be him sliding into me...I gasped as it moved into me, I opened my eyes just a little, I froze. There on the other side of the glass he stood, watching me. He was naked and hard as I have ever seen him. I opened my eyes wider started to say something, he put up his finger to his lips "SHHH!" He said with a low growl, "don't stop what you are doing please let me watch." He placed his hand on the other side of the glass right where my hand was like we were touching starting to stoke himself. I watched him move his hand up and down on his rock hard shaft, started to feel him as if he was moving in and out of me. I looked up into his eyes as I moved the vibrator in and out of me feeling myself let go. As I stroked myself in and out he stroked himself up and down keeping time with me. I was close now feeling my stomach getting tight my breathing getting heavier, I looked down to his erection. He tapped the glass so I would look into his eyes. Just as the climax welled up in me I could see the wanting in his eyes and I never felt so Sexy or turned on as right now. Our stroking getting faster, feeling the tightness in my loins, I exploded into orgasm..... I came so hard I slid down the glass to the floor breathless. The next thing I knew he was in the shower carrying me out. My knees where so weak I didn't think I could stand but he stood me long enough to wrap a towel around me and picked up again. "Where are we going?" I asked breathless. (remembering I still had my "little friend" in my hand I dropped it on the counter). He kissed me and reached for it. "To finish the scene" he said with a hurried moan and carried me off to bed. The next morning I woke, sore and happy. Sort of like Scarlett O'Hara in Gone with the Wind after Rhett carried her up the stairs. We made love all night, every way we could think of even standing up in the shower. Thinking back to later when we had exhausted ourselves, laying in each other arms he told me he closed his eyes and could see me in the shower. He couldn't think of anything but, coming into the bathroom. When he saw me there so sexy and turned on he had to join in. Giving kudos to the lady at the sex store, Kathleen's phone call and myself. I turned and looked to his side of the bed; of course he was not there. I heard in the other room the tapping of the computer keys and a soft "yes". And I knew the "scene" was finished for now. Hoping there would be more "scenes" to finish, many more.