0 comments/ 272436 views/ 24 favorites The Hands By: Starlight "The fools, the stupid uncaring fools. " I was beside myself with rage. The manager of Ironside Castings, the foundry my son had just started working for, had arrived on my doorstep to announce that my son had had an accident and that both his hands were crushed. He was full of apologies that in no way placated me. His father and I hadn't wanted Stephen to work in the filthy place, but he had been determined. He had ambitions of becoming a metallurgist, and saw working on the foundry floor for a while as a good starting point before undertaking formal academic studies. And now, just a few days into the job, a casting he was working with fell and crushed his hands, and they had carted Stephen off to the Royal City Hospital. I listened to what the manager had to say, and then gave expression to my thoughts. I think my words and manner left him in no doubt about how I felt. He departed, still mumbling apologies. I rang my husband who was away on business. They had to call him out of a meeting. I tried to break it to him carefully. "Darling, Stephen has had a bit of an accident at work." My approach didn't help. George knew quite well that I wouldn't have rung him at that time of day on a minor matter. "What? What is it? What's happened?" I had to give such details as I knew. "I haven't seen him yet," I explained, "but I'll go to the hospital as soon as I put the phone down. "Should I come home?" George asked anxiously. "No," I answered, "wait until I've been to the hospital and found out how bad he is, then I'll give you another call and we can decide then." I rang off, changed my dress, and drove to the hospital. Stephen, when I saw him, was very pale and sorry for himself. I kissed him, and asked how he felt. "Not good, mum. They hurt like hell." I had been trained as a nurse, and so I had some idea about the meaning of his injuries. They would immobilise his hands for some time to come. A nurse entered and loaded a syringe. "This will probably make you sleepy," she said, as the contents of the syringe went in. She turned to me, "If you would like to see Doctor Anderson when you're leaving, I can take you to him." I thanked her and she departed. The effects of the injection were beginning to show by now as Stephen's eyes drooped and his speech slurred. "I'll leave you now, darling," I said, "I need to phone your father to let him know how things are. Would you like him to come home?" Not a really good time to ask any questions, but Stephen mumbled, "No, he'll be home in a couple of weeks, it's okay." The nurse took me to Dr.Anderson. We shook hands and he invited me to sit. Coming straight to the point he said, "His hands are badly injured, but they're not quite as bad as they look. I need to have some further x-rays taken, but I think I can safely say that given time, his hands will be fully mobile. There'll be some scars, but I'm fairly sure that will be all." I let out a long sigh of relief. He went on, "After the initial treatment, there's no reason why Stephen shouldn't go home, providing there's someone there most of the time. You see, he won't be able to use his hands for some time, so he'll need help." I explained my nursing background and he smiled and said, "Excellent. We'll keep Stephen here for a few days and see how he goes. Then make a decision." Arriving home I rang George and explained the situation, and suggested that he complete his business before coming home, as there was nothing he could do at the moment. I paid daily visits to Stephen, doing my motherly comforting thing. We had always been very close, even to the point that I had to be careful not to arouse George's jealousy. I tried to imagine how it would be not being able to use your hands, and made tentative adjustments to the household. On my fifth visit, it was announced that Stephen could come home next day. When I went to pick him up his hands were plastered. When we got home, I began to discover just how immobile he was. He couldn't feed or dress himself, although after a couple of days he did devise ways around some of these problems and all I had to do was zip or button him up. One embarrassment for him was my having to get his penis out when he wanted to urinate, and getting his trousers down and cleaning him up after he defecated. My nurse training meant that I had no problems about these tasks, but one job in particular proved initially awkward. It was showering him. We needed to keep his casts dry, and me too for that matter. We tried with his hands outside the shower and covered with waterproof plastic, and this worked to some extent, but I got soaked. After a couple of tries, it was finally decided he should have a bath instead. This worked well except for one embarrassing matter for Stephen. On reaching puberty, he had gone into shy mode, and it was only now I again saw his penis. I recognized that it had grown since my last sighting of it, but Stephen was very self-conscious. It was made even more disconcerting for him when, every time I washed his manhood, it began to stiffen. He apologised profusely and I made noises about being a nurse and all that. About the fourth time, this happened I realised that it was not only embarrassing for him, but also distressing. I knew he usually masturbated regularly to give himself sexual relief and I could see that this was now impossible with those hands. I had also noticed when I made his bed in the mornings, a sticky patch where he must have discharged during his sleep. I am not afraid of the male organ but have always been careful not to overstep the bounds of propriety, especially where my son is concerned, so I approached the subject very carefully. "Darling, that must be very uncomfortable for you." "Oh God, yes," he moaned. I touched his penis and said, "Would you like mother to fix it for you?" "He looked at me unbelieving for a moment, then seeing I was serious said, "Oh, would you mum, would you?" "Of course," I replied. I took his organ in my hand and began to stroke it. I had of course done this with George many times during our love making, so I knew how to chime into the rhythm of the approaching male orgasm. I felt Stephen's orgasm drawing near and speeded up my stroking, and as I did he started to groan, "Oh mum, mum, mum, don't stop, don't…Aaah." His sperm shot out and cascaded down onto the bath water and my hand. When he finished, he leaned over the edge of the bath to lay his head on my breast as I knelt beside him, and said, "Thank you mum, that was wonderful." After that, relieving him in the bath became a daily ritual and his gratitude were very touching. Things changed when one day, instead of masturbating him in the bath I waited until I was drying him. As he started to come, he suddenly pressed himself against me, the sperm pouring out against the lower part of my belly. As he moved away, I could see his sperm on my dress slowly running down it. His apologies were profuse, but I shushed him, telling him it was all right and not to worry as the dress would wash, but I had not missed the significance of what had happened. I had thought that while I masturbated him he was fantasising about some girl or girls. Until this moment, it had not occurred to me that I was becoming the object of his desires. I was now in quandary. Should I cease relieving him, or carry on as if I didn't know what was happening? The other side of the matter I was still to some extent hiding from myself. Now, with the safety of time, I can confess that I was starting to become involved. While George was away on his trips, I used a vibrator or dildo to give myself relief, and as I had my orgasm, I fantasised that it was George in me. Over the last couple of nights, the fantasy had become Stephen. I conjectured that despite the belly pressing of this morning, Stephen would not make any bigger moves, so it was up to me. Again, I approached it carefully. Next morning I waited until I was drying Stephen after his bath, and said, "Darling, let's go somewhere more comfortable to relieve you." He made no discussion about this, and simply said, "Okay." I took him to my bedroom with the big double bed, and getting him to lay on his back, I began to use my hand on him. As I felt him starting to move towards his orgasm, I took the big chance. I had chosen my clothing carefully that morning. I had on a full skirt and no pants. This was to make it easier to execute my plan. I took my hand from his penis and moving quickly I sat astride him and inserted his organ into me. Stephen stared in unbelief for a moment, and then, as I began to move up and down on him he started crying out, "Oh God, mum, mother, oh God… yes… oh yes…yes." He came with what sounded like a shout of triumph, shooting great bursts of sperm into me. I had not come myself, but was content to wait. I had seen the pleasure he had experience with me, and I thought, "He'll want more and more of me now, plenty of time for my gratification." I waited until I was sure he had slackened in me, and lifted myself from him. He lay still, saying over and over, "Oh, thank you mum, thank you, I've wanted you so badly." It was intensely moving and I found myself with tears in my eyes. My feelings were of gratitude that I had been able to give my son the beauty of a woman's body, and understanding that there was sure to be more to come. I was not wrong about more to come. That afternoon Stephen came up behind me and put his encased arms round me. "Come to bed with me again, mum," he whispered. We went together to the bedroom. His hands being as they were, he could not do much to me. I deep kissed him and then lowered my breasts to his mouth so he could suck my nipples. I took his penis into my mouth and sucked and licked until I thought his orgasm was near then, denying him fulfillment at that moment, I sat across his face and lowered my vagina to his mouth saying, "Lick me there, my love." Not being able to use his hands, he tried to use his arms to drag me tighter and tighter against his mouth and flickering tongue. I could feel he had all the makings of a wonderful lover, and I was now determined I would be his teacher. His oral stimulation of me brought me to my climax. I screamed as I crushed my vagina against his face, rubbing it all over him. When the climax had passed a little I went astride him and inserted him into me. He spurted with the same gushing orgasm as earlier in the day. As the days passed and the time for George's return home drew near, I began to realise I had unleashed a monster in him and a veritable sexual demon in myself. Stephen could not leave me alone. He wanted me in the morning, afternoon and at night. Where he got the energy and sperm was a mystery to me. Not that I objected to this situation, on the contrary, I was enjoying myself hugely. George had always been a more or less adequate lover, just about, and only just about, keeping me satisfied, and there was one area of sexual penetration that we both delighted in, but I had not shared with Stephen. But more on that soon. Now, with Stephen, I had found the true dimensions of my carnal needs, and dreaded having to give up the satisfaction I was getting with my son. A decision had to be arrived at, and in the end, I was probably the one who had to make that decision. Should I stop the sexual relationship with Stephen? Should I try to arrange things so that we could carry on in secret? Should I tell George in the hope he would understand my needs? Should I leave George in the hope that Stephen would remain with me as my lover? Other questions arose; would Stephen always want me as he did now? Probably not. What would happen when he returned to work and had his days filled with activity? Suppose he met a girl? How long could I look forward to a sexual relationship with Stephen? Was I merely a fill-in while he was incapacitated? These thoughts raced around in my head, and the time for a decision was very close. I determined to be open with Stephen about my questioning, so a couple of evenings before George was due home, I opened the discussion with him. To my frankness, he responded with equal candor. "Mother," he began, "I want the sex with you to go on. I don't know how we could go on living in the same house without it. Knowing what we do about each other, and seeing each other every day without having sex would be hell for both of us." "On the other hand," he went on. "I don't want you to leave dad, nor do I want you to tell him about us. In either case, I think it would just about destroy him. The thing is, could you cope with both of us? I don't know how often you and dad have sex, but let's just say, twice a week, " "Three times usually," I interrupted. "All right then, three times, " he went on. "We've been having that amount and sometimes more every day. Could you handle that and dad as well." Emotionally these were two men I loved, so from that perspective I felt confident in my power to cope. I pointed out that once he returned to work, Stephen would probably not want me so often, so I anticipated no problem on the grounds of my physical ability to survive. Any sensual woman can easily handle two men. Stephen went on to point out his father frequently had to go away on business, and that would leave us free to indulge each other. At other times, we should have to take opportunities as they arose. It seemed then, that from Stephen's point of view, we carried on, but with reduced frequency in actual intercourse. I admit that this is what I wanted to hear, and so I agreed. For the remaining time we were alone we took full advantage and made love even more frequently. George arrived home in the afternoon a couple of days later. He wanted to take me immediately, but couldn't because Stephen was there, so we had to wait. Stephen and I had come together twice that morning, and George took me twice that night. The second time he used anal penetration and this is what I had not done with Stephen. I don't know if you will think this odd, but I felt that something had to be reserved for George alone, and as a consequence, I have never had anal sex with Stephen. Actually, he has never attempted it with me, but I suppose I could have approached him and, given the way he hurled himself into all other aspects of sexual play with me, he probably would have taken to anal sex as well. Eventually Stephen's hands healed, and as predicted by the doctor, there was little to show but a few scars. With the freeing of his hands, more delights were added to our love making, and now, as I write, it is three years since Stephen and I came together in sexual love. Once he started work Stephen's desire for sex did diminish a little, but there are times when he comes home from work, arriving about an hour before George gets in, and almost rapes me on the living room couch. I love it. As to my sexual stamina, well, I usually have sex about twice a day, and believe me, where the heart is; the body doesn't have too much difficulty following. I some times wonder how George would take it if he knew. Given his predilection for anal intercourse and Stephen's satisfaction with vaginal penetration, it could be an interesting threesome. Well, we'll see…! The Hands Author's note: After three years of writing experience I decided to put my hand to rewriting this story. This is the result. I hope you enjoy it. And please let me know by voting. At the edge of my consciousness, the thought that something was wrong flitted through my mind then slipped away. For a moment I thought I couldn't move. That thought also dissipated, and I was unable to perceive its gravity. No idea lasted long enough to make me nervous. I was trapped in a deep, comfortable fog. But as it slowly lifted, my mind meandered, and the questions drifted in and out, without being adequately answered. Am I asleep? Have I been drugged? Why do I feel sore all over? Where am I? What was I just thinking about? I began to perceive my situation. I was lying on my back in total darkness. I had to blink to check whether my eyes were open. Flat cool metal supported my back. I swallowed. My throat was sore and my tongue felt completely numb. In a haze I half-heartedly strained my body. I was able to confirm that I couldn't move. I was locked down tight. My wrists were anchored somewhere high above my head. In a rising panic I realised my legs were open. Wide open. Oh my God, I'm naked! My calves began to cramp. I tried to ease the pressure by bending my knees. My hamstrings screamed in protest and I locked my knees back out. My thigh muscles quaked and I moaned incomprehensibly. With the pain, my senses sharpened and my anxiety mounted. Adrenaline started pumping through my veins and I could feel my heart thudding in my chest. My breath quickened and my skin came alive. What was going on? Please! Someone! Tell me what's happening! Why am I here? The tight cords of my calf muscles quivered for a full minute. My legs could not have been spread wider without causing me injury. My ankles and wrists were cuffed and I could not reach to loosen them. Movement was severely limited, but if I remained still, I could stand the strain. My body trembled, humming like a bizarre instrument. There was a click, and a shock of bright light appeared from above, making me clench my eyes tightly. Immediately the image of my naked body speared into my mind. Gut-wrenching embarrassment washed over me. No one had seen me like this! There had to be some mistake. Maybe someone was there. Maybe someone could stop this madness. Please! Someone cover me! Someone! Help me! Nothing happened. No one came. I opened my eyes a little, squinting while they adjusted. For fifteen minutes I laid still, a single globe pointed down at me, tied down and wide open on a metal tabletop. It might have been thirty minutes. I don't know. My concept of time was faulty. I felt like I'd been there for days, but that was crazy. Raising my head to survey what I could, the harsh overhead light and everything under it became my world. It illuminated my straining body and little else. The black shroud of my existence had been raised about two feet, to the extent of the light. Above and beyond was an inky nothingness. I groaned like an animal and my head fell back to the table. The light above me swayed with the movement of air. I sensed a presence to my left and turned my head toward it. Please! A single hand entered the light like a ghostly floating spider. Encased in an opaque surgical glove, its fingertips touched my left hipbone. With little apparent purpose, the fingers spread and brushed over the skin of my leaping stomach. I tried to scream but I couldn't find my voice. My heart raced and my mouth was so dry. I clamped my eyes shut, utterly violated. I couldn't even cry. Why can't I speak! The touch of the fingertips was strangely unhurried. As though it was normal. As though it was intended to arouse! Along the flank of my taut body they trailed, barely brushing against the outer swell of my breast before lightly tormenting the sensitive skin under my arm. Tremors of fear and anger ran through me. I cringed and tried to twist my body away from the insistent fingertips. The muscles in my legs trembled and I held still. My mind could make no sense of what my body was feeling. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. I was being touched, and I could do nothing about it. I swallowed again and tried to raise my head to see something, anything. My mind swirled with the effort. I seemed to blink in slow motion and by now I was certain I'd been drugged. As the hand receded into the darkness, the sound of a man's deep, almost whispered voice made my breath catch in fright. "I'm glad you've decided to join us." I tried to speak, to protest, but all I could do was moan pitifully. I was shocked by the futility of my situation. I was at someone's mercy! Oh, my God! He said "us"! I was filled with so much adrenaline that my skin seemed to crawl. Minutes passed before two hands moved back into the light. I jumped at their sudden appearance. Like the first, they too were clad in latex surgical gloves. Subtlety was abandoned as they immediately reached for my breasts. I clenched my teeth as they covered them and squeezed lightly. My body shuddered and I gasped involuntarily. A deep ache radiated through my breasts. The hands released them and withdrew. I lifted my head and looked down. My beautiful breasts were covered in red blotches. My nipples ached. I'd never seen them as long or as hard. What have they been doing to me? In seconds the hands reappeared. One gently closed around my left breast, squeezing the nipple upwards. My body jolted as the pain increased. The fingertips of the other hand swirled smoothly over my engorged nipple. A thick, acrid gel was slowly and carefully massaged all over it. I groaned as my other nipple received the same treatment. I blushed in shame as they hardened further. They were so hard they hurt. I heard snickering as the hands receded into the darkness, leaving me alone in my silent humiliation. In moments my nipples were on fire. Breath caught in my chest and I writhed as the unholy heat doubled then tripled. Then quadrupled! Centered on my nipples and spreading rapidly through my breasts, it felt like I was being branded. I was left for minutes, my eyes popping out and sweat breaking out all over my body. At long last the burning sensation began to ease. My muffled moans decreased, and my nipples hotly throbbed in time with the blood pounding in my temples. Hands entered from the right. Something glinted. In morbid fascination I watched as steel clamps were applied to each of my nipples. Time and again the hands switched from clamp to clamp, accompanied by a small twist that pinched them ever tighter. Finally satisfied, the hands tested the clamps, tugging each one. I groaned again. It was maddening. After the heat treatment, it almost felt good. The hands disappeared, and more hands appeared on my left. I had the strange thought that this had been done a hundred times. Everything was happening like clockwork as though I was a patient being operated on. Coiled in one disembodied hand was what looked like rough hemp twine. A simple noose was fashioned and slipped over my right breast. Without a hint of concern, the noose was tightened until it pinched and the long end of twine wound around the base of my breast several times before being knotted. I gazed at my bloated breast, swallowing and watching it darken. It was completely bizarre. Like my breast had turned into a purple cantaloupe. I hardly even noticed the same thing being done to the other one. Hands appeared and disappeared. Some caressed my swollen breasts and some tested the clamps. Another pair attached wires to them. Wires? Oh, no! There were at least three or four of them. I shuddered on the cool metal. The table felt like one from a gynecologist's office, or maybe in a hospital. Were these people doctors? What is happening to me? What are they going to do? The hands were gone, but I felt eyes on me. They were close, watching me. I looked from side to side, but could see nothing. Someone spoke. "She's just about ready." Ready for what? I heard footsteps approach. I hadn't heard them before. Another hand reached for my jaw and turned my chin up toward where a face might be. I tried to speak but all that came out was a fretful whimper. Again I heard the quiet evil snickering around me. "Okay. Stick her." No, please! What do you mean! What are you going to do? I sobbed once and my chest shook. I needed to speak! There had to be some mistake! My mouth felt dry and furry. Swirling my tongue around, I tried to get the feeling back into my tongue. A golf ball-sized shape was in my mouth, behind my teeth, gagging me. Until that moment I hadn't even noticed it. My tongue lolled in my mouth, exhausted by the effort. I could feel straps going around my head, holding the gag in place. There were small holes in it. It whistled softly as I breathed right through it. Trying and failing to make words, I realised all I could do was moan. It was useless. Hands re-entered from the darkness and I saw the needle. I tried in vain to escape its approach. A tear came to my eye and trickled slowly down my cheek. I thought I was watching a movie in slow motion. This can't be real. It came up to the left side of my neck and a hand on my forehead turned my face away. I felt the prick as it was pushed easily into my neck then withdrawn. I was stunned. For a few minutes nothing happened. The first thing I noticed was my mouth was no longer dry. I had started to swallow my excess saliva. Before long I started tingling all over and I could feel goose bumps on my skin. Warm and cool flushes swept over me as the sensitivity of my skin increased. Fingertips began lightly caressing the insides of my straining thighs. I groaned and closed my eyes. They passed wetly over my open vagina and I trembled in shame. I raised my head and opened my eyes to look down my body. I swallowed again. For the first time I saw my denuded form. I had been shaved bare. The fingers explored me from my anus to my bloated clitoris. They glistened in the light, betraying my arousal. I heard more snickering. My head fell back to the table, jaw clenched, blushing to the core. The fingers stopped caressing me. I fought not to shudder in pleasure. I was being pinched. Right on my clitoris. As the pressure mounted in my twitching clit, I realised it was actually being clamped. I looked down to see the same twisting motion of the wrist preceding each increasingly painful squeeze. The muscles of my legs began to vibrate in sympathy. At last the twisting stopped, and I watched in horror as another wire was attached to the end of the metal clamp. I coughed on my saliva and felt drool burst through the gag to drip down my chin. My head fell backwards again and I moaned and swallowed. This was beyond my worst nightmare. A nagging repetitious pulse of pleasure began in my clit. My skin flushed and small contractions rippled through my pussy. A single droplet of moisture trickled down over the sensitive skin of my anus. You fucking slut! You LIKE this??? I almost gasped at my thoughts. I never thought like that. I concentrated and forgave myself. It was the drugs. It was all the drugs. My pussy was wet and my clit was pulsing. My nipples ached atop my swollen breasts. My skin was tingling. Trickles of sweat made their way at the whim of gravity. And it was all right, because it wasn't my fault. It was the drugs. Some part of my psyche was being added to, or toyed with, or torn away. I couldn't move. I couldn't protest. I resolved to get through this alive. My hair was matted to my forehead and my body was hot. A cool breeze wafted over my skin as though a nearby door had been opened and closed. I moaned as I felt the prick of another needle at the base of my clitoris. Tingling heat radiated throughout my groin and pelvis. My pussy clenched and more warm juice bubbled down over my asshole. A new haze began to cloud my brain. I turned my head, trying to mentally escape, and I drooled openly onto the tabletop. In moments an incredible pain enveloped me and I lost consciousness. I awoke in a different position and by comparison was much more comfortable. At first I thought I was floating free. I tried to move and found I was held in place just as securely as before. Peering down, I saw wide leather belts buckled around my wrists and upper arms, holding them by my sides. My breasts had ballooned, turning faintly purple. My thighs and calves were supported in stirrups and were also bound by thick belts, still spread lewdly, but not as wide as before. I was thankful. There were whispered voices but I could not quite hear them. I rested my head again, forcing myself to swallow my copious spit. My brain was still hazy. I thought I could hear an alarm clock buzzing in the distance that wasn't loud enough to get anyone's attention. It slowly dawned on me that the buzzing was coming from within me. I could feel it. I was jerked fully awake by an electric current searing through my flesh. My nipples and clit exploded in pain. My chest heaved and shuddered, my breasts shaking on my chest as my resolve buckled in pain. For a split second I was afraid I wouldn't be able to control my bladder. Then it stopped. Sucking in huge breaths and blinking with fear, I sensed movement between my obscenely spread legs. I lifted my head. Standing at the apex of my thighs was a male torso, dressed in a lab coat. A small black box with dials was in one of his hands. Wires ran from it. His fingers moved over the top of the box. As one of his hands twisted, I convulsed and cackling erupted around me. The pain in my nipples and clit was so intense I wondered whether unconsciousness would claim me again. His hand twisted again and the pain subsided, leaving a tingling chill that set my clit and nipples throbbing. With another twist, I threw my head back and screamed into the gag as my body shook. It stopped just as suddenly. I breathed hard and felt more drool drip down my cheeks to my neck. I was sweating profusely now and my whole body flushed hotly. I heard whispering from close by. It sounded like I had cotton wool in my ears. Only the last few words were clear. "All right. If you really can't wait." Muted chuckling came from across the room. I looked in its direction. A hand slid into the hair on top of my head and took hold, pulling my face roughly back in the opposite direction. A large and very hard cock was wiped all over my chin and neck, gathering my drool as lubricant. I stared at it as it glistened, the latex clad fist sliding fluidly up and down its length. A voice above me chuckled. The hard cock slapped my cheek. Then it slapped the other. The air seemed to press in on me as I watched with lurid fascination, constantly swallowing the saliva that welled in my mouth. The thought that it was a beautiful cock floated across my mind. Held in a gloved fist, the cock started whipping across my face. It was so hard I shuddered with each strike. I closed my eyes and was immediately hit with a jolt of current that seared through my genitals. My body convulsed and my eyes flew open. The current ceased. The slapping resumed a bit softer. A gentle current started in my clit and my pussy tingled in pleasure. Slowly it increased until I started moaning. My clit was caught between pleasure and pain as my teeth bore down on the gag. I felt like I was going to cum. My eyes fluttered closed and the suddenness of the excruciating pain sucked the air from my lungs. For an eternity I was held in a purgatory of pain as the cock slapped my face even harder. The pain spiked and my eyes bugged open. It ended abruptly and the pleasant pulses returned. I swallowed insanely and a huge breath was sucked into my lungs. I resolved to keep my eyes open. The beautiful cock was now being furiously stroked right before my eyes. Spatters of pre-cum flew in silvery loops, landing on my face and distorting the chosen trails of the perspiration trickling down from my forehead. The fingers in my hair tightened as the cock expanded, growing thicker and longer. The latex fist stroking it accelerated, my face no longer being slapped. The grunting from above the cock increased in volume. Suddenly a great gout of white-hot cum flew from the end of the cock. It splattered across my face, bridging my nose and across my right eye. I shut my eyes and was immediately jolted. Just as quickly I opened them again, a string of cum stretched across my eyelashes. Another thrust through the gloved fist and the cock erupted again. Ropes of cum flew across my face and over the gag in my mouth. I could taste it coming through the holes and instinctively pushed it out, along with a mouthful of drool. Again I was lit with pain as another jet of hot fluid launched from the cock. It landed right on my mouth, pooling around the gag. Swallowing madly, I ate the salty mess, diluted in my spit. I hoped to avoid the pain and none came. The gentle vibrations returned, slowly increasing until I almost couldn't stand it. My clit felt like it was twitching and my cunt was a flood. Pulses of cum were stroked down the length of the cock and dripped directly onto the porous gag in my mouth. I swallowed and swallowed, delirious with insane pleasure. Eyes wide open and out of my mind. The cock withdrew into the darkness. The pleasure running through my body abruptly ceased just as I was about to cum. I whimpered before I knew what I was doing. I shook my head, trying to clear my tortured mind. A needle was pushed into my thigh and withdrawn. The lights went out and I lay alone for what seemed like hours. My aching body was drenched in sweat and my face crisscrossed with cooling cum. My mind floated. Lurid images formed and dissipated. My thoughts zeroed in on myself and I had an out of body experience. I was examining my wet cunt and tut-tutting at myself. My entire crotch was wet. My ass sat in a pool of my own secretions and my cunt visibly pulsed. I shook my head, trying to push away the crazy thoughts. Finally sleep threw its shroud over me, and I fitfully dreamt of enormous cocks, the taste of cum, and of pain. I was roused by footsteps, and cringed as the light was turned back on. Time had passed but I had no idea how much. I could hear them more clearly. I wondered if it was the same day. I listened to the footsteps around me and shuddered. There were more. Clearing my throat, I was surprised to hear myself. The gag was no longer in my mouth but I was insanely thirsty. A gloved hand, wrapped around a glass, entered the light on my left. Fingers took hold of my hair and lifted my head. "Thank you," I whispered as the contents were slowly tipped into my mouth. It was thick and sweet and for a moment tasted almost pleasant. Then I noticed the oily texture and consistency. I sputtered as I realised it was warm cum. I tried to close my mouth. I saw the torso return to its position between my legs, little black box at the ready. Another hand entered from the other side and pinched my nose. It wasn't necessary. My mouth opened and I swallowed over and over as the whole glass was slowly tipped down my throat. The hand behind my head lay me back down and my eyes blinked at the light above me. "Good girl," said a deep voice from above. "She'll feel it in a minute." Mindlessly I tried to rid my mouth of the taste of sickly sweet cum. At first I swallowed almost continuously. Then, as a light, stomach-fluttering warmth crept up on me, I found the taste unnervingly pleasant. Again my body trembled, this time in pleasure. I almost giggled, I felt so good. A crazy laugh was released from deep in my chest as current shot into my body. The pain peaked, and I moaned as it receded. Fingers clad in latex ran through my hair. I leaned gently against them. The Hands An electric motor whirred and startled me. The table below my head fell away and my neck bent back. Hands made for my face holding some nondescript contraption. Fear of the unknown engulfed me. My nose was held closed and again I opened my mouth to breathe. Two strong fingers slid between my lips. Instinctively I started sucking them. It was strangely comforting. "Soon she won't need it." Chuckles echoed around the room. I wondered what was funny. The fingers I was sucking curled under my tongue, taking a firm grip on my lower jaw. They gently pulled down, opening my mouth widely. The effort required to fight them was beyond me. What more could they do? The fingers slipped from my mouth and I whimpered. They held my chin down, keeping my mouth wide open while something plastic was fitted into it and slotted into place. The fingers guided my lower jaw and my teeth locked into place around it. I felt a buckle being tightened around the back of my head. I investigated the contraption with my tongue. At first I thought it was the ball again, but the ball itself was missing. The thing in my mouth was smooth and circular. I swallowed. My saliva was starting again. Someone said, "I love this part." Suddenly I was staring into the face of a... a slut. Her manic eyes stared back at me. Smudged mascara had run in rivulets down her cheeks. Her hair lay mussed and matted to her forehead. She had dark circles under her eyes. Looking down, I could see the ring gag fitted between her teeth, holding her mouth wide open. I almost laughed when I realised it was me. I waggled my tongue at myself. I looked like a drug addict. Gone were the Fifth Avenue clothes. Gone was the attitude, the self-confidence. It was still me, strangely attractive in a wild kind of way. One last thought struck me before the mirror was taken away. I look like a fucktoy. My head was laid back down. The warm current flowed through my clit and nipples and I forgot about how I looked. Then I felt something smooth and gentle teasing my pussy. It was warm and round and running up and down, just between my lips. I looked down to see the man in the lab coat, the black box in one hand, and an enormous cock being pushed downward toward my entrance in the other. The tingling in my nipples and clit heightened. Agonisingly slowly the cock pushed into me, stretching me like I'd never been stretched before. I wanted to wrap my legs around this man's back and pull him into me, but I couldn't. My legs were still widely stretched apart. I wished he were naked so I could see his body. What is happening to me? He wasn't touching any other part of me. I was going to be fucked, and I had little to do with it. I shuddered at my thoughts as he slid deeper into me, gliding on a sea of my juices. He started to fuck me slowly. My cunt contracted wildly as the pleasant current running through me was doubled. An orgasm, the likes of which I'd never known, grew deep in my belly. It's the drugs! A hand slid into my hair and guided my head down. Right down until my head was bent back. A strap appeared and went over my forehead and was tightened, holding my head in place. Beside me appeared a male torso, in an open lab coat. Hanging from his fly was another enormous cock. His gloved hand lifted and stroked it into pulsing hardness. In my inverted position I had no doubt what was going to happen. I was about to get my mouth fucked. Like a fucktoy. Through the ring gag it passed and over my tongue, pressing against the roof of my mouth. It was hard and hot and silky and spongy all at once. My saliva covered it and bubbled from the corners of my lips as it slid relentlessly and endlessly into my mouth. Then down my throat. This is it. I'm going to die. I couldn't breathe and I gagged fitfully around the thickness plugging my throat. In a moment its stretching length was withdrawn long enough for me to swallow. I drew a tortured breath before it pushed mercilessly into my throat again. Over and over the ritual was repeated. Spit had reached my hairline and blocked my nose. I stared into space and tried desperately to relax. All the while the cock in my cunt fucked me slowly. I wanted to scream. I wanted to be fucked hard. What am I saying! The cock impaling my throat was in a rhythm. In, out, swallow, breath. I wondered at how easy it was to deep throat a cock when I had no choice. None whatsoever. My clit sparkled with pleasure and my nipples throbbed almost painfully. The knot of orgasm had curled around the muscles in my pussy. It was getting closer. I was getting fucked harder. A grunt and a moan roused me from my thoughts and I crashed back to reality with a cock pistoning into my throat and its load bursting from the tip, coating me from teeth to esophagus in hot cum. I struggled to spit out as much as I could. I screamed as the current went from one to a hundred in the blink of an eye. In another blink the same warmth was spreading through me. "Make sure you swallow that cum, whore," said the man with the black box. Yes! Yes! I will! I promise! Someone at to my right said, "Hit her again. It looks fuckin great." The current spiked again and I shuddered involuntarily, muscles seizing. The man with the black box was groaning as he fucked me harder and harder. I was moaning and pleading. Once more it stopped. The hot tingles returned, rocking my body. He plunged deeply into me and shuddered. A hot wetness filled my cunt and I felt every twitch of his cock as he blew his seed into me. I felt the cock in my cunt withdraw as a new cock was pushed into my mouth. Its endless length pushed deeply into me. I was beyond gagging and immediately this new cock started fucking my throat even faster than the first. Fingers curled around my aching breasts, holding them like handlebars for leverage. My empty pussy was not left that way for long. In moments it was filled to bursting, an even larger cock stretching me and pushing out cum. Now I was really getting it. The cock in my cunt fucked me hard and fast. I was gagging and swallowing and pushing out spit around the cock mercilessly fucking my throat. I moaned hotly as the current increased. I was going to cum and cum hard. An unholy CRACK sounded and pain exploded across my breasts. I writhed uncontrollably as the cock in my mouth pushed deep into my throat and exploded, pulsing hard and drawing moans from above me. Again and again the cock throbbed, heating my belly as I swallowed it all down. Suddenly it was gone and before I could complain another impossibly large organ was pushed through the ring gag and straight down my throat. Another CRACK sounded, followed by excruciating fire ricocheting through me. The cock stretching my throat muffled my moaning. The whistling of the whip cutting through the air pierced my senses. Again and again my breasts were whipped. Just when I thought I could take no more, it stopped. The burning need to cum was driving me insane. Again and again cocks fucked my greasy throat and swampy cunt, spewing their thick cum into me. I swallowed and swallowed. The flow of current increased and I began to shake uncontrollably. I felt the touch of one then two then three hands. More came and were joined by unseen mouths and tongues, caressing and licking and kissing my flesh. Teeth began to bite. My breasts were bitten all over. My stomach felt marked and I writhed with the feel of teeth pulling at my skin. I felt like I was on the edge of a cliff, my body spasming, threatening to send me into the abyss. Another cock slid into my mouth while I was still swallowing cum and another cock was pushed up my cunt. With each new cock the dial was turned up and I groaned and trembled. Finally, as I was being pounded relentlessly from both ends, a searing orgasm snaked around me and squeezed the scream of a wanton whore from my chest, just as the current spiked. I was held there shuddering and spasming by the flow of electricity as pure pleasure raced through my nerve endings, side by side with unmitigated pain. I came and came and came. I moaned and gurgled with another mouthful of cum. My mind felt like it was hazing over as my cunt was filled again. I could hear voices but I could hardly understand them as I built to another orgasm and another cock was pushed down my throat. "Are we doing her ass tomorrow?" "Yeah, just three days 'til she's released." "It's great how she forgets everything." "Yeah, like having a virgin, over and over." "Drugs are great." "Let's make her cum again." "Yeah." Author's note: Thank you for another excellent editing job, rachel. The Hands Deprived of vision, I lay spreadeagled on the bed. A blindfold taped across my eyes and thick silken restraints bound my wrists and ankles to the bedposts. No words were to be spoken. I was not in control, far from it, but I was there voluntarily. I had given myself over to the unseen entity known as "The Hands", someone who knew how to control, to use a woman, to push her beyond. Hours it would last, many, many hours of defilement. My big tits were getting a work over, random slaps that broke the silence with loud thwacks, each one followed by an involuntary yelp from me. A series of rapid staccato slaps to one nipple and then the other was followed by a pensive pause before the sides of my breast mounds were spanked hard. No inch of boob was spared, my tits smarted with the torment and things had only just begun. I never knew when or where the next smack would land, or how hard it would be. "The Hands" was working my tits over, but I would learn very quickly that spanking was only a minor part of the repertoire. After a series of skimming smacks that zeroed in on both nipples simultaneously, contact stopped. The only sounds were our breathing, mine much deeper and faster. Time seemed to stop as I waited for something else to happen, yet still nothing. Seconds ran into minutes, then firm fingers lashed out and grabbed my nipples clamping them, squeezing them, squeezing the very breathe out of me. Over and over again my nipples were grabbed and released in a pincer like grip. Each time they were grasped, they were twisted more and more, until it felt like they were being twisted full circle. Just as I thought I couldn't take anymore, respite was given, but only momentarily and only so a new torment could be unleashed. This time instead of twisting, the vice like grip pulled my nipples upwards, dragging my whole tit with them. My tits were stretched repeatedly, they felt like they were being distended beyond belief -- methodically. Finally they were relinquished and "The Hands" became busy elsewhere in the room. I heard a luggage bag unzip, and then some rattling around. I heard what sounded like a bottle of some description open, then I felt a cool drip on to my nipples, but the coolness didn't last long, replaced by a distinct burning sensation, not overpowering, but a burning sensation nonetheless that spread across my entire tit as what felt like oil of some description was massaged into them. My mind wandered as to what had been applied to me to cause such a sensation, but then I heard the telltale sound of a match being lit and then a candle being burnt which jolted me back to the moment. Almost instantaneously, I felt searing hot wax on my already burning and tenderised tits. I yelped, squirmed and bucked against my silken restraints as hot wax landed and ran over my tits before solidifying, locking in the burning sensation of I what I later discovered to be oil infused with chilli. Hot wax rained down on me for what seemed like an eternity, and I could feel my tits being totally covered in wax, slowly and deliberately. "The Hands" then moved to my cunt, presumably because my tits were completely caked with wax, they felt like they were, the wax locking in the strong tingling sensation of the oil. "Whack...... Whack.......Whack" My cunt was smacked repeatedly and exactly, over and over again rapidly, only interrupted by short and sharp pinches to my clit. This brand of torment was the epitome of pain and pleasure, but abruptly it stopped. I heard more shuffling and then first my ankle and then my wrist restraints were removed. I was allowed the briefest moment of peace before I was pushed and prodded on to all fours in a doggy position. The silken restraints were put back on my wrists and ankles. The one in control spent some time positioning me just how they wanted. Hands then reached around and started to vigorously squeeze my encrusted tits, cracking the wax, removing it all. The process of binding my hanging tits then commenced, I had no doubt it would be expert. Swathes of rope wrapped rapidly around the base of my pendulous tits, I felt the engorging begin as the ropes tightened, biting delectably into the soft flesh that was still burning because of the oil. Soon my tits started to throb deeply within their unyielding constraints. "The Hands" moved back to the bad and I again heard clinking and shuffling as I was momentarily left alone, the throbbing from my tits now coursed through my whole body. Contemplating this was brief though, as hands grabbed by tits, encircling there bond form almost completely and squeezing them wickedly. It may have only been a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity as the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain mingled together, but there was still more to come...... a lot more. Abruptly, the encompassing hands relinquished my anguished globes but I yelped as first one nipple and them the other was clamped. The clamps bit into the already tormented nipples, then I felt them dragged down impossible and I whimpered as I felt the nipples being stretched. Weights had been attached to the clamps, and they swung lightly, their slow arcs dragging my nipples forward then back. Fuck, I thought, my tits had really been worked over already; they'd been groped, squeezed, twisted, and slapped. They had had both hot wax and stinging oil applied to them and they were now meticulously bound tightly and the nipples were clamped and weighted. That was nothing though, compared to what would happen to my cunt. Deft fingers started to tug on my pussylips, pulling them downwards, and then releasing them. Rhythmically, this labial stretching was repeated over and over again. and was only interspersed with the occasional firm slap from a flat palm across my vulva, each slap would make me jump and send the weights on my tits flailing, further pulling my nipples every which way. Clamps, smaller ones than the ones on my tits, were then put on my pussy lips, two clamps on each lip, and I could feel and hear the chains attached to them. I yelped as I felt the lips of my big cunt distending, the inexorable drag downwards as weights, weights that felt very big, were attached to the chains. I didn't get much opportunity to acclimatise to the pussy torment, my asschecks started to be whacked. I guessed for about 10 minutes, I was slapped with a bare hand, flogged with a flogger, and whacked with what I assumed was a ping pong bat. Each depraved contact would send the weights swinging from my tits and cuntlips, dragging at my most sensitive flesh wickedly and unpredictably. Just as I didn't know whether I could take anymore of this particular punishment, it stopped. The clamps were removed from my cunt. I waited for my nipples to be liberated too, as I felt the deft pair of hands move to my tits, but I was mistaken, very mistaken. I whimpered breathlessly as instead of the hoped for respite, the titty torment was further enhanced. Another weight was added to the short chains that dangled from each bloated tit. Things changed pace now for awhile. I hadn't climaxed yet, but I would soon be in nearly permanent orgasmic bliss, but offered no post orgasmic reprieves. Let me explain that I have been fisted by men and women on a number of occasions. By virtue of giving birth to three children vaginally, my cunt is loose. What I experienced though with "The Hands" was completely different; it was the work of a genius, a cunt playing virtuoso. First, four fingers slithered effortlessly into my big cunt. I expected to soon feel the full fist, but I didn't. Four fingers from the other hand slipped next to the four already inside me, and thrust, jabbed and twirled around in all manner of ways before settling into a devilish rhythm that would be bring me to my first orgasm of the session. Like a metronome, eight fingers smoothly fucked me as a pair of thumbs slid along the side of my clit every time the fingers dived deeply into my welcoming cunt. All this was against a backdrop of a pair of weights swinging wildly, dragging my tightly bound tits by the tormented nipples. As my orgasm built loudly my groans and screeched were loud and guttural, primeval utterances, a wordless frenzy. "Argghhhh..... Uhhhhh...........Ohhhhh.....Arrggggghhh..........," I repeated involuntarily. I bucked and bucked against my restraints, but the fingers inside me never missed a beat, the flicking of my clit was meticulous, even at the height of climax. My bucking became more violent, more furtive as my orgasm subsided, but the stimulation continued unabated. There would be no post-orgasmic respite, just more stimulation of my pulsing cunt and clit. Teasingly, the speed of the thrusting fingers began to slow, a depraved decrescendo, until finally they were withdrawn. The fingers then worked momentarily at the entrance of my hole, applying copious lubricant and then considerable force, stretching the entrance further. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh................," I gasped, the breath taken out of me as a fist plunged deeply into my already thoroughly used cunt. The single fist then fucked me with the same metronomic precision that appeared to be a trait of my defiler. I panted and wheezed. It didn't take long for my orgasm to build again, this time my bladder let go as the relentless fist drove deep into my bulging birth canal. I squirted uncontrollably as I descended over the edge of a cataclysmic orgasm. I could feel wetness all down my thighs and there was no doubt a huge soggy spot on the bed. Like before, there was to be no respite, the fist fucking of my contravened cunt continued for a long period, before things changed slightly. The fist was now withdrawn totally, before plunging back into me, and every so often, my entrance would be stretched out again with powerful fingers, plying my already abyssal cunt open even further. A brief pause was followed by the fist remaining lodged and quiescent inside me. As the fist lay dormant inside me, I wondered what the next "activity" would be. I waited for several minutes and I could hear the sound of my heart beating fast and loud and then my clit was squeezed and pulled rhythmically and hard. I was bought to the edge of orgasm, only to be denied as the devilish fingers became absent from my clit, leaving me craving more stimulation. Over and over I was denied release, until after the fifth or sixth time, the fingers left my poor little clit and forced their way alongside the hand already lodged inside me. I had never been double fisted before, never contemplated it, but now it was happening. I was now being stretched impossibly; a pair of strong hands did their best inside me -- churning my cunt, ruining my hole. The double thrusting continued, but my I couldn't tell you how long. Again, my bladder let go, each thrust for a while was accompanied by a squirt from me. As I felt another orgasm build, my cunt was vacated, leaving me craving stimulation. It would stay vacated for a little while as my rampant defiler turned their attention to my until then untouched bumhole. I felt the coolness of lube and then first one and then two fingers slip effortlessly into my ass, probing and stretching my sphincter. It wasn't long before a third finger burrowed into my bum and more lube was deftly applied. My asshole was smoothly finger fucked for a while, but I knew the attention would not stop there. I yelped as another finger joined the others and even more lube was added. It was obvious what was going to happen. A thumb joined the fingers and my bumhole was now jabbed with all the digits, withdrawing and then stabbing back into me, in syncopated rhythm, I could feel that my bumhole wasn't closing fully even when vacated. Finally, and with much effort, the unseen person plugged by bumhole with their whole fist. Slowly, my asshole was fist fucked, as each asscheek was hit with a paddle periodically, but at intervals where I was never sure when the next stinging contact would be delivered. I bucked involuntarily with each whack as the fist did its business -- the business of stretching and plundering my asshole. My nipples were still being dragged this way and that by the weights attached. The reddening of my asschecks finally ceased as I felt fingers at my cunt again. My clit was roughly and repeatedly pinched, making my scream, before fingers were inside my cunt again. As my now thoroughly stretched asshole was still being fist fucked, fingers from the other hand wasted no time in wedging themselves back into my cunt. I wheezed through gritted teeth as a second fist entered me. I know had a fist in my asshole and one in my cunt. The two fists started out fucking my holes slowly, but the speed and power of the thrusting fists increased, at first slowly, but then more rapidly. Sometimes both would drive into me in unison, sometimes they would alternate their pulsating plunges. After a time, they became frenzied and maniacal, reaching their peak and driving me to a massive orgasm and simply keeping me there. I thought I would blackout, my mind was simply overrun by what was happening to my cunt and bumhole. I was thrashing about vigorously, but ultimately pointlessly against my restraints. Just as they had speeded up and become more forcefully, the fists started a long, long decrescendo and then finally extracted themselves from me. I felt thoroughly overwhelmed. I had been a submissive many times before, but this was something else. I had been told that it would be, but it was even beyond my own filthy imagination. It was the meticulous and relentless execution that I could not belief. I had trained myself each evening for the treatment I expected to receive, clamping my own nipples and then later slapping them with a ruler; and stretching my own cunt with big dildos and cucumbers, but I don't think anything could prepare a woman for being devilishly defiled by "The Hands". After the briefest of breaks in which I was given a big drink of water and was untied from my restraints. I guessed that this may have been the end of the extreme session, but there was no way to be sure. I knew to wait approximately five minutes until the door was closed, before I could take off the blindfold and pack up to leave. I lay there silently and not moving. Finally after listening to much shuffling around the room, I heard the door open and then slam shut. I waited for what I thought was five minutes and then waited a little longer. I reached up and took of my blindfold, and was momentarily blinded by the shock of light. As I became accustomed to the light again, the first thing that struck me was my tits. They were red and swollen, particularly my nipples. There were still marks from where the binding had been. I guess I expected it and it wasn't foreign to me, but what I saw surprised even me. My nipples were throbbing deeply and intensely, as I gazed at them it nearly looked like they were throbbing visibly. The second thing I noticed was how wet the bed was. I knew I had squirted a lot, but I didn't realise how much. I had squirted a river. The third thing was a bottle of chilli infused oil which I then realised was what had been applied to my tits early on. I sat up on the bed, very gingerly. My cunt and bumhole were sore, so were my bum cheeks. I would be sore for a week. It was about an hour before I got myself showered and dressed and re-entered the real world, dropping the key off at reception and then ordering a taxi to go home. I was spent. Totally fucked. It was my last session......... for the month. The Hands of a Friend We had been friends for several years now, he and his wife and I, so it wasn't unusual for him to ask if I wanted to accompany him into the city. It was well into the holiday season and we both had shopping to get done. Besides, his wife had to work that day and he was hoping I could help him pick out a nice gift for her. Rather than bother with a long drive, followed by the aggravation of trying to find a parking spot, we decided to take the train. The ride into the city was uneventful, spent enjoying the coffee and muffins we had picked up on the way to the station and chatting about our plans for the day, our jobs, people we knew, interspersed with comfortable silences as we watched the scenery go by. We spent the day going from store to store, getting most of our shopping done and taking a leisurely break for a long lunch. I always enjoy spending time with him. Not only is he attractive, although only of average height, he is dark, handsome and very well built. When he talks to you his eyes look right into yours, as if no matter what you are saying, he can tell what you're really thinking…and that he really cares. In truth I had always been attracted to him, but he was a friend and so was his wife, so in my mind that meant he was off limits. Which is not to say I hadn't had the occasional fantasy about being with him. It soon became late afternoon and we headed back to the station to catch the evening train home. After boarding, we found a pair of seats together at the very rear of a car across the aisle from the door. This gave us a modicum of privacy, though I didn't know at the time that I'd be glad of that. It had been an enjoyable, but long day and we were both feeling quite tired and ready for a rest. The seats, however, were not built for comfort. Since we were in the last row, they didn't even recline. I had pulled out a light blanket I had bought for myself during the day and wrapped it around me, as it was a bit chilly on the train. Although I tried various positions in the seat, I just couldn't get comfortable. Watching my dilemma with increasing amusement, he finally let out a short laugh and said, "Here, wait a minute. Let's try this. Stand up for a second." So, I stood and watched as he turned sideways, leaned his back against the window and stretched his legs out across the seat. "Aahh, that's better" he said with a sly grin watching me out of the corner of his eye. "Hey" I said, "It's not better for me!" "It's not?" he replied, trying to suppress a small chuckle. "Okay, okay. Just kidding…this'll be better." With that he raised his left knee up and leaned that leg against the back of the seat and let his right foot sit flat on the floor next to it, his thigh running parallel and a couple of inches above the bench. "There you go," he said, patting the seat between his legs. "You can sit right here and lean back on me. It'll be much more comfortable and we can both get some rest." I hesitated, thinking that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. "What?" he asked, looking me right in the eye with an expression that said this was the most normal suggestion in the world. Well, maybe I was just being silly and overthinking the situation. I've been known to do that. So, "Nothing" I shrugged and turned around sitting in the 'chair' he had created with his body. I pulled my legs up and stretched them forward over the edge of the seat's armrest, which put it right under my calves. I smoothed my skirt down over my knees and crossed my legs at the ankles. Then I sat there straight up looking across the aisle and out the window in the door to the passing darkness beyond. "Comfortable?" he asked, a bit sarcastically I thought. "Not really" was my reply. I heard him let out the kind of sigh that grownups do when children are being foolish and then I felt him wrap his arm around my waist and slide me back up against him. He took my blanket and shook it out, draping it over the top of us both and covering me from my feet up to my shoulders. "Now lean back and relax, for crying out loud. Let's get some sleep". I did as he said, leaning back against his chest. I still wasn't so sure about this, but as the minutes passed and I realized he was dozing off, I started to relax and fell asleep, too. I don't know how much time passed as I dozed, but I slowly woke into that delicious state where you're half awake yet still half asleep, not yet quite aware of your surroundings. The movement of the train beneath me confused me at first and it took me a moment to remember where I was. I did know I was feeling quite content and comfortable. I snuggled a little deeper under the blanket and then stopped cold when I felt that hard muscled chest and stomach against my back. Then I remembered where I was and whom I was with. Slowly turning my head back, I saw that his eyes were closed and could feel his even breathing beneath me. He was still asleep, so I relaxed and was about to decide whether or not to try to go back to sleep myself when I took stock of the rest of my body. To my dismay, I realized that while I had been asleep my skirt had bunched up over my hips and I had drawn my knees up, flopping to either side and leaving my legs wide open. Thank goodness he had covered us with that blanket. If not, I would have been lying there with nothing but the crotch of my silk panties between me and the rest of the world. Just as I was about to try to readjust myself, I felt him move behind me. I glanced up and saw that he was still sleeping as he gave a little stretch. Then before I could react, I felt him raise the leg that was against the seat back, stretch it and bring it back down over the inside of my thigh, thus pinning my raised left knee against the seat with his calf. It was at this point that I realized that his right hand had moved off of his own leg and was now resting on my inner thigh. His large fingers were spread across the tender skin at the uppermost part of my inner thigh and his long thumb was resting right along the edge of my panty line. I suddenly couldn't move. All I could feel was the heat from his hand on my naked skin. I knew I should extricate myself. We were friends, good friends, but allowing this to go any further could ruin that good friendship. His wife and I were friends. This had to go beyond her idea of friendship. My head said to get up, but I couldn't get my body to take the hint. I squirmed a bit in my indecision and his hand started to move, freezing me in place. His fingertips began slowly moving against my thigh in small, light, almost tickling circles. They moved lazily. His thumb still lay motionless on my panty line, but I could feel the heat of it through my panties against the outside of my pussy lips. A pulsing was starting to run up through the middle of my abdomen. Every part of my body was on alert waiting to see what would happen next. My crotch felt like it was homing in on his hand. I could almost feel my lips leaning in that direction as they waited, willing his thumb to move. When it finally did as he began to stroke the edges of my pussy I could feel the electric waves wash over me. I shuddered and took in a deep gulp of air, as I'd forgotten to keep breathing, so wrapped up as I was in what that hand was doing. Now he moved his whole hand over my crotch and began to stroke along my slit with the tip of his middle finger. He stroked gently over the silky fabric from the top of my mound all the way down to my anus and back up again. At this point, I knew there was no turning back. I couldn't stop now even if I had wanted to. Each time he stroked over my hole, I knew he had to be feeling the wetness that was gathering there. Each time he stroked my slit over my clit I felt my hips jump just a bit to try to make contact. I had closed my eyes, but now sensing something different I opened them and glanced to my left to find his face right next to mine, his eyes dark with desire watching my face. His breath was hot on my cheek and he stared at me with an intensity I hadn't ever seen in him before. This took me aback for a second. "Maybe…"I said, confused as I was in my state. "I think…" He never stopped his stroking, but raised his other hand to my lips and said "Shh…stop thinking. You think entirely too much." "But…" I tried again. "No" he said with a small smile. "If you must think, then just think about how you feel." With that he let his hand drift away from my crotch and was rewarded with a small moan of protest that I realized with humiliation had come from me. He took the top edge of the blanket and gave it a little shake rearranging it over us. In the process, we were flooded with warm air from under the blanket, ripe with the scent of my arousal, thus ending any thoughts of stopping this now. His left hand moved around behind me, up under my blouse and unhooked my bra. Trailing his fingertips lightly around my side he drew a light line straight up between my breasts, circling them teasingly and then finally resting his arm across my body and placing his hand onto my right breast. There he stroked and fondled me, flicking and gently tweaking my erect nipple. As I responded, he moved his right hand down working it's way under the waistband of my panties. He lingered, tickling a bit on my mound before sliding between my legs and cupping his hand to rest lightly covering my pussy with his middle finger lying softly along the line of my slit. Every nerve in my body, especially in my crotch waited in anticipation. But, he didn't move that hand. He just let it rest there while continuing to play with my nipples. I could feel his hot, moist breath on my neck. He was kissing and nibbling under my ear, flicking my earlobe with his tongue. I couldn't stand it any longer and I began to squirm under his hand, trying to push my pussy up to him, aching for more contact. He slid his hips down in the seat behind me pressing his crotch tight up against my butt. I could feel his hard and swollen cock pushing against my left cheek. As I squirmed under his touch I could feel it growing and getting harder still against me. This only served to increase my arousal and I was beginning to feel desperate for his touch on my clit. I turned to look at him, biting my lower lip as I tried to contain myself. He lowered his face to mine and began to kiss me, gently at first letting his tongue trace the outline of my lips. Then using his tongue to open my lips, he began to kiss me more urgently exploring every part of my mouth. As my tongue reached to meet his, I felt him apply the slightest bit of pressure on my crotch and his middle finger slipped easily through my wetness to lie between my pussy lips. The tip of his finger lay just at the entrance to my hole and his upper knuckle had finally made contact with my clit. Shocks of electricity shot through my center, yet still he continued to tease and torture me by not moving that hand. I began to rock my hips forward and back pushing against him, humping his finger and rubbing my butt against his cock. By this time the juices were running out of me and I was dying for release. Slowly he moved his hand back allowing the length of his finger to stroke along my slit from my hole over my tender and throbbing clit until his fingertip just reached the juncture at the top of my pussy lips. Then suddenly he plunged it back following the same path to let his finger rub against my clit and stab into my hole, but just as far as the first knuckle. Then, he did it again. Stroking and plunging, each time entering my hole just a little further. I was matching his movements with my hips, rocking up against him as he plunged deeper each time and sliding slowly downward as he stroked back up. The muscles in my butt, thighs and abdomen were clenched tight trying to maintain some control. In the back of my mind, I was aware that from the feel of his thick rod behind me, he was just as wet as I was. Now grasping my clit he began to roll it between his thumb and finger, massaging in circular motions first gently then more firmly then gently again. He began to pull it out and in as if pumping it, making me feel like it was being gently sucked. I was moaning and gasping into his mouth now, hoping the noise of the train would cover the sound. Still stroking my clit with his thumb he wound two fingers around each other and dove into my hole, pushing me hard against his crotch and fingerfucking me in and out twisting his fingers with each stroke. I knew I was about to go over the edge and apparently he could sense it, too. He pushed his fingers deep into me stretching up to press on my g-spot, now rubbing furiously on my clit with his thumb. As he did, he stretched his tongue far back into my mouth and brought the tip up to stroke along the roof of my mouth. That's when I could contain myself no longer. With an uncontrollable shudder that ran along the length of my body I began to cum. As I did, I felt him begin to tremble and then explode holding me tightly against him. When we were both spent, we collapsed against each other. I was so wet I had to remove my panties and use them to clean myself up, then rolled them up and stuffed them in my purse, thankful I had worn a rather long skirt that day. We had just finished readjusting our clothes when we pulled into our station. As he drove me home from the station, we were quiet in the car. I was concerned about what this would do to our relationship, but whenever I sneaked a glance at him he seemed quite infuriatingly content, actually humming along to the music on the radio with a little smile on his lips. We got to my house and he walked me to the door. As we climbed onto the porch and I began unlocking the front door he said, "There's something I need to tell you." "Uh, oh," I thought. "This is it…now he's going to tell me that we went too far." He saw the look on my face and smiled. Crooking his finger under my chin, he raised my face up to look into his eyes. Pushing me back against the doorjamb, he leaned his body up against mine and gave me a small kiss on the forehead. Then, leaning over by my ear and as he reached under my skirt and placed his hand onto my pantiless crotch, he said, "All I wanted to tell you is that next time I'm going to taste you." I had to hold onto the doorjamb as he sauntered down the walk to his car. My knees were too weak to hold me and I was getting wet all over again. Next time?!