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Gretchen

By: stormbreyer



This is a fantasy, none of the events here actually happened.

********************

I was back in New Jersey for a week of meetings with the other members of my team and we were out to dinner together, or more precisely, having drinks after our dinner. The members of my team are all close friends, though we are a pretty diverse group in terms of age, professional and social backgrounds, and it was common for us to go back to the hotel for drinks after we finished a business dinner together. 

I am in my early 50's and I was talking with Gretchen, who is a very pretty, dark haired young woman who, I would guess, is around 30 years old. So technically, I am old enough to be her father, though I was thinking anything but fatherly thoughts as we talked and joked with the rest of the group. 

It was late January and we were talking about New Year's resolutions. It turned out that most of us had made a resolution to get more exercise, and Gretchen was telling us about getting back into working out with weights. It seemed like everybody had a similar goal. I, myself added push ups and sit ups to my running routine, because it was something I could do while travelling for business.

Gretchen admitted that she was still sore from lifting and using muscles that she hadn't used for a long time. I did a quick appraisal of her taught, sexy body and tried to picture it without clothes. She was curvy, with a larger than average bust and a great ass, but a very thin waist. I honestly didn't see much room for improvement.

As the group was breaking up, Gretchen and I found ourselves with a moment of relative privacy, and I said to her that she needed a massage to help with the muscle soreness.

"That would be great," she admitted, "I had a massage on my last business trip when I stayed at that resort hotel in Fort Lauderdale and really enjoyed it."

"Well, you're in luck," I replied. "I just happen to be a very good masseuse. I would be more than happy to help you out, if you like."

Gretchen looked at me skeptically, and asked. "For real?" 

I figured that she saw through my offer as a desperate attempt to get my hands on her body, but I decided to play it out anyway.

"Sure, let me show you." and I moved behind her and began working on her neck and shoulders with my hands. In truth, I was winging it.

As I peered at her face for clues on how I was doing she sighed, "Mmmmm, that feels good." and closed her eyes. 

One of the other guys on the team who was watching us quipped, "Get a room, you two!" and everyone laughed. I was embarrassed and took my hands off Gretchen, as she giggled and blushed at the comment. Shortly after that, the group broke up and we all headed off to our own rooms, alone.

I had not stopped thinking about how nice Gretchen's graceful shoulders felt, or the fact that she seemed to enjoy what I was doing. I played it out in my imagination after I got to my room, and started to get an erection. I decided to go for broke, and picked up my phone.

I texted Gretchen, "That massage offer still stands."

After a few seconds my phone beeped, indicating that she was responding. The message appeared, "Your hands did feel nice :)"

I did a celebratory fist pump. She was still interested!

"How do I know I can trust you?" she added in the next message.

I replied, "Come on, we work together. You know I am an angel 0;-P"

"LOL. OK, but only for a few minutes. I am in 326"

Holy crap, I thought. She was actually giving me the green light. I put on track pants and a tee shirt and slipped into some flip flops. I took a Viagra that I had in my shaving kit and headed to her room. She opened the door and glanced around to see if anyone was watching us before letting me in. I wasn't sure what to make of that. The hotel we were in was set up with suites, each containing a sitting room in front and the bedroom in the back, separated by the bathroom.

She was still in her work clothes, and she looked at me and said, "How about if I sit at the desk and you give me a chair massage?" 

She seemed nervous and a bit embarrassed, so I said sure. She had on a pale blue cotton blouse and gray skirt that ended at mid-thigh, along with black hose and a set of black pumps with 4 inch heels. She sat down and I started to work on her neck and shoulders again. I kneaded her deltoids for a few minutes, moving to her arms and eventually her hands, and got her relaxed back to the state she was in when we were still in the bar. She sighed as I rubbed the tension out of her muscles and said, "That feels nice." She had her eyes closed again.

"You know," I said, "I am not going to be able to do much more in the chair. How about if we move to the sofa and you let me work on your feet and calves?" 

She only hesitated a second, then stood up. I took her hand and led her to the sofa where I sat at one end and patted the cushion at the other end. She sat down and carefully swung her legs onto my lap, keeping her thighs together. I did my best to appear as though I was not paying any attention to her hemline during the maneuver. She still had on those killer heels, and they featured a deep cut-out in the vamp, or top part of the shoe that covers the toe. I could see toe cleavage, which is a big turn on for me. 

I eased the shoes off and set them on the floor, and took my time admiring her feet. I could make out red toenails through the dark hose. The hose themselves were good quality, with a very silky feel, and no wrinkles at the ankles. I tried in vain to determine if they were panty hose or thigh highs using my peripheral vision, as I started working on her feet with my hands. 

She let her legs relax, and I worked my right thumb into the arch as my other hand worked on her toes and the ball of her foot. I looked at her and she had her arms raised with her hands behind her head, and a smile on her face. 

"Does that feel good?" I asked.

"It sure does." she replied.

"I have to admit that I have a foot fetish, so this is heaven for me." I said, winking at her.

"I would have never guessed." she answered wryly, and used her calf pressed against my groin to nudge my erection.

"Sorry about that." I said. 

"You shouldn't apologise, I take it as a complement." 

We both grinned at that comment. At this point I was succeeding beyond my wildest dreams, and wasn't sure how to proceed without making an obvious sexual move, which I had assured her earlier was not my intention.

Once again, she saved me. "You know, I am so impressed with your skills, I think I need you to work on my core next. Let me go change and get comfortable on the bed, and you can come in and finish the job."

With that she swung her legs off my lap and got up. I learned the answer to my question about her hose. I got a glimpse between her thighs and briefly saw the gusset of her panty hose as she sat up. I watched her cross the room to the bathroom and go inside, shutting the door. Was it my imagination, or did she flash me intentionally? And was she swinging her hips suggestively as she walked away? What exactly did she mean by 'work on her core' and 'finish the job'? 

I enjoyed flirting with the women I worked with, and tried to do it subtly, without being a jerk, so most of them played along with me. The current situation had moved way beyond anything I had ever experienced in the past, though.

The bathroom door opened and Gretchen came out with a towel around her torso. Her clothes and hose were gone, but I saw the straps of her bra on her shoulders. She smiled again and tilted her head towards the bedroom door. "Come on, are you ready?"

I followed her into the bedroom like a puppy, though I managed to keep my tongue from hanging out of my mouth. She pulled the towel off and dropped it to the floor. She was standing with her back to me in a matching beige bra and panty set. The beige was a shade darker than her fair skin. She looked over her shoulder and said, "I guess I am not showing you anything you wouldn't see if I was in a bikini at the beach, right?"

Technically true, but there is something about being alone with a girl in underwear that is way more erotic than the very same amount of skin coverage and proximity on a public beach. I drank in her feminine aura and my mind started processing all the amazing details of her appearance. 

The bra was a back clasp design, and I could only see the side of one cup while standing behind and to the right of her. What I did see was that the cup was very nicely filled out. The panties were bikini style, and had a lace edge around the top. There was no constriction at the waistband, indicating that her hips were very lean and muscular. Her amazing ass filled out the fabric in the back of the panties in perfect hemispheres of womanhood.

She crawled onto the king sized bed and positioned herself face down almost exactly in the middle. I realized that by doing this, I would also have to be on the bed with her to do a massage. I hoped that she chose this spot intentionally. She reached up and pulled her hair together behind her head and draped it forward over her right shoulder.

"Please do my shoulders again," she directed, "it felt amazing when you worked on them earlier."

I crawled on the bed on her left side and began working at the base of her neck. I moved to the right shoulder, then back to the left and repeated the work I did earlier. Then I began moving down her back.

"You should probably unhook the bra while you do my back." she said.

"Sure." I gulped, but quickly released the clasp and pushed the straps to the side. I have large hands, so I started in the center of her back using my thumbs, then moved my hands to the sides of her torso and allowed my fingers to circle her ribcage. the fingertips of both hands explored the swell of the sides of her breasts that were pinned under her body. I continued to work down her torso to the tops of her hips. Her skin was taut and smooth. She was very pale, in contrast to the darkness of her hair. As a result, I noticed a very sexy pattern of fine dark hairs at the bottom of her spine that disappeared into her underpants. 

I decided to go for broke and massage her glutes. Since I was literally grabbing her ass, I figured I'd better do it with the same firm pressure I used on the rest of her body. I also decided to cover the whole area, so I 'allowed' my thumbs to explore the cleft between her cheeks and the area below them at the top of her thighs as well.

The feeling was amazing. She was pretty relaxed, but as my hands worked lower, I felt her butt muscles contract, perhaps involuntarily. Maybe I was tickling her, or maybe she was aroused, but either way I knew she had great muscle tone back there.

Her thighs were next and I noticed that she had a small gap at the top of them, just below her pussy. Her legs were extended all the way and her toes were pointed, creating the longest possible line and displaying her legs to maximum advantage. The fact that I could see all of her gorgeous legs down to those graceful feet, and that the feet were extended to display the heels, insteps and toes, was driving me to distraction.

I worked on the hamstring muscles, and again allowed my thumbs and fingers to encircle her thigh, which brought me deliciously close to her pussy. As I moved my hands across the tops of her legs, I noticed that she was alternately splaying and clenching her toes as I worked. She had not said anything since I unhooked her bra, but I did hear her breath catch a few times as my fingers explored sensitive areas.

I worked down her legs and did the calves and feet again, more for my own enjoyment than because she needed it. I had already spent an inordinate amount of time on them earlier. As I finished I announced, "All done back here Roll over so I can do the front."

I was sitting on my heals, anxious to find out how she would deal with the unhooked bra. I fully expected her to slide her arm under her boobs and trap the bra against them as she turned. It was the maneuver observed by disappointed men at beaches all over the world, hoping against hope for the woman to forget her situation. Instead, she shocked me by pushing up with her arms into the cobra pose, grabbing the bra with one hand and flinging it to the floor as she rolled over.

"Do I need to cover myself with the towel, or can you control yourself?" she asked me, as she was propped up on her elbows, peering at me. She said it with mock seriousness and tilted her head to emphasize the point.

I was still too awed to respond immediately. Her breasts were easily the most amazing part of her that I had seen yet (though there were not many more parts left.) They were a full, perfect D cup, with large areolae that protruded from the rest of the breast, and quintessential gumdrop nipples. The hung without sagging and appeared completely natural.

"Haven't I been the perfect gentleman so far?" I asked.

She smiled and glanced at the protrusion in my pants. "Yes, you both have been, in fact." and with that she layed back and put her arms to her sides. I worked my way back up her legs until I got to her crotch. My vantage point allowed me to get a close up view of her honeypot covered only by the lace panel of her underwear. The lace was backed by an opaque panel, so I couldn't see anything through it, but the shape of the fabric hinted at generous labia, or a natural bush, or both. I didn't notice any dampness in the underwear, which disappointed me, but I detected a faint, natural feminine odor.

Once again I was struck by how narrow her waist became above her hips. I swirled my hands over her abdominals, and push upwards across her ribcage to just under those magnificent breasts. As my hands spanned her chest, in the crease under each breast where the underwire of her bra normally rested, I stopped and looked at her face.

She was staring at me intently, with her lips slightly parted. She pushed up on her left elbow and wrapped her right arm around my neck pulling me into a kiss. 

It was the proverbial dam breaking. 

She pulled me down on top of her as we explored each other's mouths. I felt her nipples against my chest and her left hand was now on my lower back, pulling me closer to her. She was an excellent kisser, and communicated growing excitement with her mouth and tongue. We both became worked up from tongue wrestling with each other for several minutes.

As much as I enjoyed kissing her, I really wanted to explore those breasts. I slid my mouth off of hers and moved around to her neck. I trailed kisses from her jaw to where her neck and shoulder met. 

She whispered, "I want you to give me a hickey there, where your mouth is." 

I was surprised at that. I knew she was married, and I wondered what her husband would say if he saw it. I sucked firmly and she shivered as my mouth worked on the spot. It had been years since I intentionally left a mark like that on a girl. 

When I moved down, I could see the spot where my mouth had been starting to darken. My hands were squeezing her breasts and I used my fingers and thumbs to tweak the nipples. Her hips undulated as I played with her tits. I had more than a handful, even with my large hands. I placed my mouth on her left nipple and circled it with my tongue.''

Gretchen moaned as I moved back and forth between her breasts. I was sucking firmly, but avoiding any contact with my teeth. She had my head in her hands and was directing me where to go next.

"Harder." she commanded as I continued to work her tits with my mouth and hands. "Bite them." 

I began to use my teeth, where before I had covered them with my lips while sucking her nipples. She was moaning continuously and rubbing her panty covered pussy against my hip. I returned the favor by humping her thigh. She gasped and crushed my head to her breast, smothering me, as she orgasmed. 

I looked up at her face as she opened her eyes, and she commented that someone was overdressed for the occasion. We both sat up and she helped me remove my shirt and pants. She was pulling my pants and underwear down together when my cock sprang free.  

She looked up from it to my face and smiled, then she leaned forward and took the tip of my cock in her mouth. The Viagra had done it's job, and I was hard before her lips ever touched me, so it felt wonderful to feel her tongue working around the swollen head of my cock.

"Lay back." she told me. I did and she got on her knees and shimmied out of her underwear. Her pussy was just as I imagined. Protruding with large labia that were slightly parted, It was shaved below and there was a neatly trimmed vee of fine, short, dark pubic hair above it pointing to her clitoris. 

She turned facing my feet and swung her leg over my chest. Her heels were under my shoulders and she backed up until her mouth was over my erection and her pussy was right in front of my chin. 

She wasted no time in taking me back in her mouth. Her left hand caressed my scrotum and her right hand was wrapped around the base of my cock as she pushed down until the end of my cock was at the entrance to her throat. She pulled back and used the flat of her tongue on the head of my cock while her hand twisted and stroked the shaft. after a couple of circuits of this technique, her saliva was providing the lubrication for a fantastic blow job.

I had not been idle while this was going on, though I did take time to admire the view. Her ass and hips looked larger with her clothes on, I realized. Probably due to the tiny waist she had. Now that her ass was right in front of me and I had my hands on the globes of flesh, my palms and fingers completely covered them. I have always loved long, thick labia, and I was glad to see that Gretchen had them. I used my fingers to pull her cheeks apart, causing her pussy lips to part slightly, revealing the glistening treasure between them. 

I kissed the junction between her thighs, the base of her ass cheeks, and put my mouth right over her rosebud. my tongue flicked around the rim of her rectum and then I teased her with short jabs directly into it. She was scrupulously clean back there, so I took my time playing with her butt and working my tongue in and around this sensitive area. I was rewarded by moaning and squirming on her part, and she became more aggressive with her attention to my cock.

Her mouth felt so good on me that I decided I better start working directly on her pussy. I wanted to bring her off again before I popped, because I wasn't sure when or if I would get another chance at fucking this beautiful angel. 

I moved my attention down, and licked and sucked on those wonderful pussy lips. I learned in high school while practicing with girls that were saving themselves for marriage about how to please a woman with oral sex. It is important to start soft, and lick around the clit, building up both pressure and direct contact after the girl begins to respond. Otherwise, you could overstimulate them, and reach a point where they couldn't achieve orgasm. I was a good student then, and I used that knowledge to tease Gretchen. I was very soft with my tongue, flicking the sides of her clit from several directions rather than a direct assault. I knew it was working when she took me out of her mouth to moan, "God that feels good!" 

I built up the frequency of my tongue strokes across her clit, but kept the pressure light. Her squirming increased, so I alternated between long licks deep into her pussy and the attention to her clit. I knew I had her on an irreversible trajectory to another orgasm when she stopped stroking my shaft and just laid her head on my stomach. She had my cock in a death grip, but she was incapable of anything else other than panting and moaning. 

When the orgasm hit, she pushed her pussy against my tongue to get the pressure she wanted, and ground it hard and slow against my mouth as she wailed through three or four strong contractions. Then she abruptly lunged forward to pull her sex clear of me, too sensitive to take any more stimulation. 


Gretchen Does the Groping



"Skidder," murmured Gretchen, "why do your testicles feel funny?" He had just shot inside her tight pussy and they were lying in somebody's bed, recovering so they could fuck again. The "tits-out" party downstairs was in full swing and occasionally they could hear a voice they recognized. Their college friends, all in their third year, when they were allowed to live off campus, were talking loudly, dancing, feeling each other up, and making out, like any normal tits-out party. 

Gretchen hadn't brushed her hair back since turning over to lie next to Skidder. She was still wearing the light blue altered tank top with no neckline -- no point taking it off when it came down so low it completely exposed her firm, B-cup tits, displaying them nicely and making them readily available for fondling. Her denim skirt was hiked up around her hips so her pussy was freely available to Skidder, evidence of the haste with which they had run upstairs and dived into the first free bed they could find in the old farmhouse. She never wore panties anymore. Skidder had used a condom so there was no problem with leaking onto somebody's clean sheets. 

"I shaved my nuts," Skidder said. He had spent the last half hour fondling the tall girl's small tits, just like she liked it done, before, during, and after he boned her. Now he was lying on his back and she was on her side, facing him, long hair covering her face over her eyes and spilling over his chest. Without her glasses, she couldn't see his face clearly in the dim light anyway but she knew what he looked like. Knew what his dick looked like, too. But she realized now that she had never taken a really good, hard look at his balls. She remembered that they were red, is all. 

"Why'd you do that?" she asked. "They do feel real smooth, like velvet. Nice." She was rolling them in her hand, tugging on his scrotum, feeling all the little cords and bumps that can be found in a young man's sack. And, of course, gently squeezing his egg-sized balls. Skidders balls hung low and she liked to see them swing when he walked. 

"That's why I did it, so they would feel so good you'd want to suck on them," he replied. "You can suck my balls now without getting hairs between your teeth." This was a hint about what he really wanted. She had never sucked on his nuts, ever. His dick, often, but never his nuts. "Why don't you shave your pubic hair? It'll be fun to rub up on bare skin." That was a great idea and Gretchen made a mental note to shave her brown, abundant muff the very next day. If she were at home she'd have done it right then but the girls who rented this farmhouse might not appreciate her using one of their razors and making a mess in the bathroom in the middle of a tits-out party. 

Skidder leaned over and kissed her, his hands moving back to their accustomed position on her diminutive tits. His breath felt like beer but she welcomed his attention because from her point of view her tits hadn't been fondled nearly enough tonight -- she had gone upstairs with Skidder before she got her fair share of being handled by the guys. You go to tits-out parties to get felt up, if you're a girl, and to feel girls up, if you're a boy. 

Skidder climbed on top of her again and got between Gretchen's long legs. Now that he had told her, she noticed the difference in his hairless balls as they rubbed against her thighs. He had put on another condom and was sucking on her little nipples, getting her ready for another good, hard boning before they went back downstairs. But Gretchen pushed him off and did something new instead, something he had hoped for but didn't expect. She sucked his balls one at a time into her mouth. She felt the smooth velvety skin of his shaved scrotum in her mouth as she moved his nuts around with her tongue. She had to admit it was sexy -- first time she had handled balls without hair and she liked it. She fondled and tongued him for several minutes, enjoying all the little cords and tubes and lumpy organs in his sack which she could feel with her tongue, lips, and fingers. Then she lay back, spread her long, skinny legs and invited him to resume boning her. 

Skidder was inside her again and she was enjoying being humped a second time but she especially enjoyed the slap of his big, low-hanging shaved nuts against her taint and it inspired her. That's when she got the idea! 

Gretchen had a brain wave! The same idea behind a tits-out party but applied to swinging nutbags! By the time she came to her second booming climax of the night, she had the basic idea, if nothing else, clearly in her mind. It was a good thing she remembered it after her orgasm! Usually, she left those tits-out parties almost wasted, pleasantly post-multi-orgasmic, incapable of rational thought, mind reliving the most intense sexual moments of the night in a continuous loop, driving home more or less on autopilot in the wee hours of the morning. That night, for a change, she kept an idea in her head and did not forget it. 

She and her roommate Felicity were regulars at the tits-out parties that were so popular that summer. She just loved the thrill of showing up for parties with her breasts on display and letting her friends, new and old, feel her up. Tits-out parties had practically become her whole sex life, and getting felt up was almost a fetish. That was true for a lot of her private college classmates, once they got to the third year and were allowed to move off campus. During those dreary first two years on campus, most of them got kind of hooked on groping with their clothes on because that was all they could do safely while they were confined to the dormitories. After those pregnancy scandals, the school had really cracked down and taken the fun out of college life while they were young. But the third year was liberation at last! Free of all those strict college rules, they went a little wild when they got their own apartments but they still loved to grope!

So what was this big idea involving boy's nuts? The idea was simple in principle but complicated in practice: If the girls could display their boobs and get felt up by boys at tits-out parties, why couldn't guys display their balls and get groped by girls at parties? But it had to be balls, not dicks and balls. After all, at a tits-out party it's breasts that are on display, not cunts. You had to leave something to the imagination or it's not sexy! So she made up a rule that for a "balls-out" party, guys had to pull their dicks straight up in their pants and let only their scrotum hang out of their fly. And they had to be that way when they came to the front door or they wouldn't be let in! It was just like the rules for girls at a tits-out party, only the conditions applied to guys. 

Gretchen had come to the party with her pal and roommate, Felicity. Felicity and Skidder were both what she called her "fuckbuddies", not serious or long-term girlfriend or boyfriend but just good, solid "friends with benefits", who stuck by each other and were always available for sex if Gretchen hit a dry spell or didn't have a date some night. But that didn't mean she didn't have feelings for them. Skidder was really sweet and some days she thought she could fall in love with him if he could just lose the skateboard and take her somewhere besides the pizza place, which he only did on nights when there was a two-for-one special. She felt a powerful attraction for Felicity, too, and when she wasn't around their apartment Gretchen had been secretly sniffing her soiled panties. 

She had been rooming with Felicity for two years already, since before they moved out of the dorms. She often got hot for her roommate, even though she thought she was basically straight and could have boys like Skidder over whenever she wanted now that they were off campus. Felicity was so cute and her pussy was so sweet -- it smelled divine, and tasted so good! Gretchen had even worked out a ploy that would give her an excuse to lick Felicity's pussy almost every night, supposedly as a way of rewarding her for doing her Econ homework, like that would help her study! She was going to spring it on Felicity tonight when she went downstairs. All she had to do was get Frank and Skidder to go along with it for show but of course they wouldn't be around Felicity every night when the homework was done, like a roommate would -- a great set up for Gretchen! Later, she ran into Horst and got him to agree to be the grand penis prize for Felicity if she passed the course! She knew Felicity was hot for Horst and any normal horny straight guy would want to bone Felicity, given a chance, and Horst was a normal horny straight guy, even if he did have pretensions to be the misunderstood artist. Or was it misunderstood philosopher this week. 

On their way home from the tits-out party, Gretchen told Felicity about her new idea. Felicity had had a little too much to drink and was still a little too postorgasmic to comment. She was still overwhelmed from the unexpected boning with Dave and the surprise of her nipplegasms. But she was also still gushingly sentimental about Gretchen's offer and her other friends' generosity in helping her study, by giving her a reward every night for doing her homework. She didn't have much to say about Grethcen's idea that night except that she liked the idea of doing with guy's balls what they had been doing with her boobs. 

Gretchen sat on the idea for another three days, working out the details and writing rules down on paper, before she ran it by Skidder. He thought it was great! He'd happily shave his balls again for that kind of party! Soon she had brought in Frank and then more friends and soon they were ready to organize their first balls-out party! 

The apartment where Felicity and Gretchen lived together was plenty big enough for the two roommates but a little cramped for a party. There were two bedrooms, one of which was used for sleeping (Felicity and Gretchen slept in the same bed, and sometimes in each others' arms) and the other was set up for study. Then there was a living room that they tried to keep neat for company and a kitchenette, where they would put the beer. (This time they would just be cans. There wouldn't be enough people coming to get a keg, they thought.) The wine (which many girls preferred) would go on the table in the little breakfast nook. Fortunately, their front door was around a corner, out of sight of most of the other apartments. This meant that guys could safely pull out their balls at the last minute, without having to let them swing in plain view, all the way down a long corridor, before knocking on their door. 

The night arrived and about 8:00, the girls invited to the first-ever local balls-out party, about a dozen of them, started to arrive. Most of them were regulars at tits-out parties and so it seemed weird to them to show up for a party with their tits covered! Some of them didn't like it at first -- they wanted to show off and get felt up! Then about 9:00 the male guests started to arrive, greeted with hoots and hollers by the ladies, who had gotten a head start on the wine!

It was really a sight to see! Each guy had a sheepish grin on his face as the door opened, standing there with his (usually brownish-pink) nut sack hanging out of his fly! If it hadn't been for the hand-lettered sign on the door that said "Remember the Rules or You Don't Get In!" a lot of them would have figured it was just a set-up or a practical joke and wouldn't have done it. Unlike girls, who usually went to tits-out parties together, the guys were mostly coming in one at a time. They were greeted by one of the girls (the guys didn't know it but the girls had agreed to take turns answering the door), who always said hello, looked down at their hanging scrotum, and then picked it up in their hand, tugged it a little, and squeezed the nuts just a bit. "You've got a full sac there!" they almost always said, even if the guy's testicles weren't really that big. Had to make the macho males feel good if they were going to get action later! 

One or two of the guys showed up with their dick hanging out and they were sent away. Rules were rules and exposed penises weren't allowed. Pity, Gretchen thought. They were nice dicks. 

Once inside, it was just like a tits-out party, except that instead of exposing the girls, all the guys had that one body part on display. It was fun to look at them all! Some hung low, some were tight up against the zipper, some balls were huge, practically the size of ripe lemons, and others were not much bigger than big lima beans. The girls liked to watch the low-hanging ones swing back and forth while they danced! 

And as the night wore on, girls picked out guys they were talking to or standing next to and grabbed their nuts, whether they knew the guys or not! The rule was that any girl could grab any guy's balls anytime she wanted and play with them. At one time or another, most of the girls went from guy to guy, fondling their sacs and playing with the testicles, feeling the cords and veins and tubes, sticking fingers up into the place where the sac meets the guy's pelvis, and bouncing them in their feminine hands. After a couple of hours of that kind of ball play, every one of the girls had had enough experience fondling balls to be a connoisseur of the variety and esthetics of male gonads, appreciative of both their many differences and their fundamental similarities. 

Gretchen had organized a contest -- each girl was blindfolded in turn and had to identify the guy just by feeling his sac -- no peeking allowed! Most of them did really well, maybe showing how distinctive the feel of balls really is. But maybe because the girls could smell, they identified a lot of them by whether they were using Axe or Jade East or Old Spice or something else scented, like their soap or their sweat, if they hadn't showered. There was a lot of giggling but something, somehow was missing. It just wasn't like feeling up breasts. 

Once that was over, a new game got started. The girls started tying string to the guys and leading them around like they were on a leash, or jerking the string up like their balls were puppets! Then it became a contest to see how much a girl, the littler the better, could squeeze a guy's nuts without making him yell! That lasted less than one round because nobody would do it a second time. Even little blonde Felicity, Gretchen's roommate, had too much strength in her hands! 

By then it was midnight and time for the lights to go dim! Gretchen had it all planned. Their own bedroom was dark and available so their guests could get it on if they felt the urge, with a sleeping bag and pillows thrown on the floor for party-goers who couldn't fit on the bed. She would also turn out the lights in the living room so their guests could make out, like usual, but she'd leave the breakfast nook lit so the drinking could continue. 

Well, it wasn't really a huge success. In the living room the girls were holding tight to the guys' ball sacs but the guys were squirming and had to work hard to feel up the girls -- they had to unbutton buttons, pull up T-shirts, push bras out of the way -- all this stuff they never had to do at tits-out parties. Gretchen hadn't thought of them having to go to all that trouble -- she never wore panties and if she let someone up her skirt, there was nothing in the way! 

Felicity checked the bedroom every once in a while, opening the door a crack just to be sure everything was ok. There was usually nobody in there. Only one time she saw one of the girls giving head but nobody fucked or even got under the sheets -- the bed was hardly mussed at all. 

But the weirdest thing about the night was that hardly anybody was getting off! Except for the couple in the bedroom, Gretchen heard grunts but no moans and the living room, where the lights were turned off but it wasn't really dark because of the light coming from the kitchen and breakfast nook, wasn't even crowded. Most of the guests were mingling in the breakfast nook, which got really crowded. 

The balls-out party idea was not going well. Not well at all. People were starting to leave and it was only one o'clock. Even Skidder looked bored, like he was there just because he was being loyal and sticking it out until he could go. Gretchen had to do something! 

Then she remembered Skidder's red, hairless balls! 

"Skidder, come with me!" Gretchen whispered. "Felicity, keep the door open!" And she grabbed a string tied around Skidder's scrotum, left there from their little games an hour before, and led him to the bedroom, which was now empty. There she turned on the closet light but kept the closet door almost closed, giving just enough light so people could look into the room and see what was happening. Then she pulled off the beaded T-shirt she was wearing, so her braless B-cup tits were out, hiked up her skirt, and pulled her long brown hair back out of her face. Then she told Skidder to whip it out, his whole package, everything! 

Framed by the doorway and visible in the dim light, she put her glasses on the dresser and got down on her knees. Her shaved pussy was on display below the skirt bunched up around her waist. She started by fondling Skidder's velvety smooth balls, fingering and manipulating all the little things in his scrotum, tugging on the sac, taking his nuts one by one in her mouth, and stroking his dick, while her high, firm tits were accentuated by the shadows from the little light in the room. Then she took his penis in her mouth and began to suck, scraping her teeth, now so perfectly straight after years of orthodontist work, on the underside of his shaft as she moved her head back and forth. Skidder sighed and put his hand behind her head and after about ten minutes of this delicious treatment he tensed up and suddenly came, right in her mouth! She felt her mouth fill with his semen but she didn't even try to keep up -- she let his cum drip from the sides of her mouth onto her pert little tits, where one glob ran down to her nipple and formed a viscous drop that just hung there for a long time. Then she opened her mouth to show him his own ball juice before she swallowed hard! 

By now most of the party was crowding into the doorway to stare at them! They gazed silently on this open and unexpected display of lust, but since it was in the bedroom, no rule had technically been broken! When the show was over, Gretchen put her T-shirt back on -- right over the come streak! -- got her glasses, tucked Skidder's dick back in his pants, and led a dazed Skidder back out of the bedroom and into the light. Five or six couples then went into the bedroom behind them and soon the rhythmic sound of agitated bedsprings and long whimpering cries of passion could be heard. Even the living room became more lively, as one girl after another took off her panties or removed her bra to make it easier for the guys to get access. It wasn't as good as a tits-out party but the mood was a lot better than it had been. 

The party turned around after that and kept going until about five in the morning. As the guests left, either Gretchen or Felicity bid them goodbye with kiss for the girls and a grope of their balls for the guys, giving them a friendly tug for the road! A big hand-lettered sign on the door said "Now Leaving the Balls-Out Zone! Don't Forget to Stuff It Back In Your Pants After You Leave!"

By six, with the sun rising, it was just Felicity, Gretchen, and Skidder. 

Skidder spoke first. "You pulled it off but it was close. The party could have sucked."

Felicity offered the explanation. "It probably feels good to a guy to have his balls played with but it's not the same as getting felt up and having your tits fondled."

Skidder responded. "Yeah, it feels good, at least for an hour or so. More than that is too much. Right now my nuts are sore. But the main thing is you can't come from just having your nuts played with. At least I can't." 




Gretchen Does the Groping



Gretchen had the last word. "Well, I had fun tonight and it was different. I learned a lot about testicles. But it's not like a tit-out party. Those are more fun." 

Felicity then said, "Hey, I'm tired. It's tough putting on a party. Let's go to bed!"

Skidder said, "Does that include me?"

Gretchen grinned. "Why not? There's room in the bed for three. Or five, if you count the three of us and your two balls."



Gretchen in Suspension



Authors note: Although not really a Part Two, I'm intending to fold these characters in with the characters in my first story in the future, so please check that out too. I'm also feeling that after two relatively slow burners, I'm going to have to bash out something quick and nasty next time. Please comment and vote if you read, because I really have no idea what I'm doing right or wrong.

- - -

Gretchen couldn't see properly. Her hair had fallen down in front of her face, and no matter how she twisted her neck or flicked her head she couldn't get it out of the way.

"Jesus, stop jerking around Gretch!" Stan sounded pissed. Of course she couldn't see him in her position, but she could feel his hands working away at yet another knot, securing her ankle to the top of her thigh, and she could imagine his brow contorted in concentration and his tongue sticking out as he set about his work. "This is for us remember?" he added.

"My hair's in my face and I can't see a damn thing," Gretchen informed him coldly. "Could you do something about it? I promise I won't... bother you if you do that."

"Hold on babe." Stan slowly tightened one of the many, many ropes and Gretchen felt the heel of her right foot pressing into the bare right cheek of her ass. "How's that?"

"Ow... a bit too tight. It's gonna hurt and cramp like that I think."

"Ok babe." The rope was loosened and Gretchen felt her foot resting in a more comfortable position an inch or so away. Right now Gretchen couldn't summon many positive feelings or opinions about Stan, but he was still considerate and professional when it came to binding up a naked woman like a thanksgiving turkey.

He came into her line of sight now and she was shocked for a minute to see he was still fully clothed while she was bound, increasingly helplessly, stark naked, face down on the bed. She couldn't crane her neck up enough to see his face, but she watched him pick up one of the red head-scarves she wore for work from the dresser and kept still as he pushed her hair back and tied it around her head.

"You'd better not get anything on this," Gretchen smirked, "I have to wear it to work tomorrow."

"I'll be careful babe." Stan said, but his voice was distant. Gretchen pulled a face as he walked back around to her backside, looping another rope around her legs, securely binding her thighs to her calves.

Gretchen and Stan had been dating for, what? Five years now she guessed, and increasingly they had been having problems. Problems like Stan thinking Gretchen was a cynical bitch, and Gretchen thinking Stan was an utter jackass. They were both adults, and neither of them wanted to give up on a relationship that had been so good (it had hadn't it? It was so hard to remember that far back now) so they started on a series of last ditch schemes to re-ignite, to repair, to restore what they had before.

They took a camping trip out to beyond the edge of nowhere and fucked up against a fence while they watched horny horses doing the exact same thing in a field. That hadn't been so much of a success since Stan had lost his temper when Gretchen wouldn't stop making jokes about the relative size of the stallion's cock and his own member. Gretchen had no idea why he would be so fucking touchy about that, after all his dick was... well it was a not inconsiderable proposition itself.

In fact if Gretchen was really honest with herself, Stan's wonderfully proportioned prick was a big check in the "positives" column of their relationship. She could understand that she might have been ruining the mood for him, but if their idea of what the mood should be like was so different, were they really right for each other?

Other than the camping scheme they tried porn, scheduling more time together, weeks without TV, more porn and even considered threesomes, but both kind of chickened out of that last idea.

Gretchen was out of ideas, but she felt she owed it to Stan to at least try when he suggested that they step up from the light bondage and hand-cuffs that was often a part of their fucking, to some serious rope bondage. It was something he'd always wanted to try, he admitted. And when she had given him the ok, he had dived headfirst into it - and she had watched him buying enough rope to restrain an elephant and fitting a steel hook into the ceiling of their bedroom with butterflies flitting around in her stomach.

Stan was almost finished she realised, and she started tensing her muscles and testing the restraints of the ropes that coiled around her again and again.

Gretchen was lying face down on the bed, her head tilted back so she was looking straight forwards, pulling the muscles of her neck taught. Her shoulders were both pulled back and her arms were securely tied together behind her back, forming a single line down her spine with her hands emerging from a tight bundle of rope just above her curvy ass.

When Stan had forced her arms back like this and bound her she had been kneeling up, and it had forced her breasts out as if for inspection and maybe that had been the point when she felt most embarrassed and vulnerable.

The loss of control, putting herself completely in someone else's power, at the mercy of their whims - she relished all those things, and she liked the spice it added to her sex life. This time though, so close to their relationship breaking down, she realised her trust in Stan was eroding, everything felt different. His eyes on her felt more calculating, she felt more of an object that he could just ogle and inspect and then fuck. Was that objectification what some people craved? She guessed it must be, but she wanted the connection - the feeling that the restraint was for her benefit as much as it was for his.

Stan had grinned at her pose, and couldn't help himself from roughly grasping and squeezing her breasts as she thrust them out against her will. She had kind of giggled along then, but then the butterflies started again as he looped more rope around her chest and arms that cut under her breasts and over them, so that they squeezed out obscenely from between two bands of restraint. It didn't hurt but she became painfully aware of how exposed she was, and her nipples and flesh seemed to become more and more sensitive every minute.

Her arms bound like that, she had been laid face down and he had bound her legs. Bending them at the knees, he had secured her calves to her thighs in two or three different places so that the heels of her feet rested an inch or two away from the curve of her backside. All along he sure as hell hadn't been sparing the rope, going over areas of her tingling skin again and again until in certain places she almost felt... clothed. It was a strange sensation, but she never forgot the sensation of the cool air passing between her legs or her slightly distended breasts.

Next he had gently parted her legs, and though she caught her breath she had let him, knowing that he must be inspecting her pink lips, and trimmed hair but not knowing anymore what he was thinking.

"Is that comfortable?" he had said softly.

"Uh-huh."

"Ok, I'm going to tie your legs now so you can't close them. Don't be scared."

"Oh... hahaha..." She had laughed nervously and considered again how this was the most restraint she'd ever been put under. She had had her legs secured before but this time it sounded like she wouldn't be able to struggle even. Just lie there and endure everything he did to her.

Her legs were bound now, just as he had said. He had tied the ropes around her knees to a kind of harness that he had secured around her waist and midriff in such a way that she could barely move her legs a centimetre. She was well and truly trussed up, arms in a straight line behind her back and legs folded up and splayed as wide as they could be without hurting her.

"Finished!" Stan sounded more cheerful than he had for weeks. "Oh wait... one more thing..."

"Hey, be careful..." Gretchen said in alarm as he started to mess with her hair, and she felt him beginning to secure her long, soft brown hair too. Oh god, when she was spread-eagled, tied to the bed posts, she could kick and struggle and stop him doing shit like this, but now - she tensed and tested her muscles again - her limbs were completely immobilized. "I don't think I want you tying my head back like this Stan."

"It's part of the position. Relax Gretch, nothing hurts right? This won't either. It'll take some of the pressure off your neck too."

She didn't say anything else, just concentrated on the tingling, rubbing sensations that were running all over her skin, even when she wasn't tensing her muscles. Where was the most sensitive? Maybe her thighs, she could really feel the ropes against the tops of her thighs. Or her upper arms, it was really sensitive there too. The rope wasn't too rough but she still felt the fibres rubbing into the soft flesh around her biceps.

Stan finished, and Gretchen swallowed down an involuntary panic response when she realised she couldn't now move her head much more than to angle it from side to side. Somehow Stan had tied her hair to some of the other ropes around the small of her back, over her arms and now her head was being forced back so that she had to look straight ahead.

He appeared in front of her, squatting to her level, holding a coil of thick rope, different from the thin stuff he had trussed her up in. Sometimes she forgot what he looked like these days. He was cute, she knew, with a lean, gorgeous body. But the closer they got emotionally the less there was inside him to sustain her.

"Ok Gretch. Last bit, and it's very important that you tell me if anything hurts."

"It's ok so far Stanny." She smiled bravely.

"Well, we're gonna use that big hook up there. I'm going to lift you up in the air, and if my knots and ropes have been ok so far your weight should be pretty much perfectly balanced and you won't feel any undue stress anywhere."

"Christ, you sound so professional."

"Enthusiastic amateur babe. I've got a pulley thing set up so after I run this rope through it, it should be pretty easy."

"Saying I need to drop a few pounds there Don Juan?"

"Relax Gretch," he grinned a little evilly "I don't want to have to gag you too." He stood, disappearing from her view and after a few minutes of clanking and rattling Gretchen felt something pulling gently on her, then she was a horizontal package being lifted vertically off the bed.

She was excruciatingly aware of her own weight, her flesh bulging out around the straps of rope, and for a moment panic started to spiral up inside her as she worried that too much stress on one point of her body and she could choke or break something or something else could go wrong. But quickly she realised that Stan had been right - her weight was evenly distributed amongst that crazy network of ropes and bindings and she was hanging, slowly spinning and completely naked.

He hoisted her several feet off the bed, then secured the rope somewhere and placed his hand on her thigh to stop her slow spiral.

"Oh... oh god," she whispered, biting her lip nervously.

"How's that? Anything pulling? Hurting?"

"It's ok, it's. Oh god... oh my god... what am I doing?" Gretchen felt her face flushing with blood as her heart pounded. Her breasts, squeezed and hanging down now were just... she was so aware of them it was amazing. And her legs, spread so wide with nothing to hide her privacy - to hide her pussy, it had been bad enough on the bed, now she felt like she was being displayed in a shop window.

"It's a kind of suspended hogtie."

"A what?"

"Sounds scary, doesn't it? That's why I didn't tell you before."

"Oh... thanks." Gretchen felt the blood leaving her face as Stan's hand on her thigh calmed her and she centred herself.

"And now..." Stan gave her thigh a gentle push, starting her slow spin again. Gretchen, unable to lower her head, looking only straight forwards, willed her muscles to relax and watched as the room rotated around her. Stan's muscular chest, the window (curtains drawn), the bedroom door, her dresser with her messy piles of make up and clothes, the wardrobe, the chest of drawers, the mirror, the wall above the bed and back to Stan's muscular chest.

Oh god, but the mirror! Stan had heard that savage intake of breath as she had caught sight of herself and with a chuckle he turned her back to face the full length mirror. She gasped in wonder, or awe, or horror, even she didn't know, to see herself turned into a BDSM aficionado's wet dream. The brown rope coiled and looped and bound her everywhere, but still there was so much of her soft, pink skin showing through. Again she thought - trussed up and exposed for inspection and display. Everything on show. 

From her angle she could see the smooth curve of her neck, and her breasts hanging down from between the ropes, and she got a pretty good idea of the rest of her body, but she could also see Stan, and his eyes were eating up the curve of her ass and her split, spread thighs, and then - of course, her defenceless pink pussy and, God, probably even the dark pucker of her anus. Actually in this position maybe he couldn't see that, her cheeks were pushed together a little, but then again, everything else was on show, why not that too.

"Jesus fucking shit Gretchen," Stan chuckled again, "you look amazing." And with that, as if he was reading her mind he reached up and gently but firmly spread her ass cheeks to expose that dark pink, puckered opening. She felt naked all over again, and a low sound came out of her throat as she watched him in the mirror, inspecting and investigating her.

To her relief he stopped pulling her cheeks apart, and span her quickly back to face him. He squatted a little, so his face was level with hers and she watched silently as a slow grin of desire crawled across his face.

"This is gonna be so good for us baby." Stan reached under her and she felt his big, rough, fingers pinching at her nipples, pulling her sensitive breasts down even more. "How does that feel?"

"It's... um... it's good..." Gretchen felt out of control and under control at the same time, and she wasn't lying. She didn't think this would be good for them, if this was what it took to keep Stan interested in her then they had no future, but it did feel good. Her body was becoming more used to the unique suspension and position, and though her breasts were too sensitive for him to toy with them like that, she was starting to imagine the moment when that long, thick prick slid into her helpless pussy and he started to slowly pump into her.

Her eyes closed, biting her lip, lost in the moment Gretchen only half noticed Stan had gotten up and was rooting around in his bag of "gear" in the corner of the room. He brought it back over to her.

"Let's see what we have." His hand disappeared into the black holdall and came out with a shiny red plastic tube - rounded at both ends, it kind of looked like a thick cigar case. Gretchen stared at it uncomprehendingly until Stan twisted it and it started buzzing in his hands.

"Oh, oh fuck!" It was a shiny new vibrator she realised, but they rarely played with toys... what else did Stan have planned?

"Like the look of that?" Stan grinned broadly and placed it on the dresser where she could see it, tossing some of her clothes on the floor to make room. "And..." the next thing was a thick, black rubber dildo, moulded into the shape of a big, veined cock, including balls. Stan tapped it on the edge of the dresser, chuckling as is wobbled slightly.

At a glance Gretchen guessed it was even bigger than Stan's prick, which would mean it would be the biggest thing she had ever had inside her if he fucked her with it. When he fucked her with it, she realised. There was nothing she could do to stop him.

He was going to come round behind her, between her open, inviting legs where her pretty, pink pussy was displayed for him and he'd tease her with that buzzing vibe until she was gasping, begging for him to stop or fuck her, then he'd slide that monstrous rubber cock between her wet, waiting lips and fuck her with it. Not even deigning to use his own dick. She felt herself blushing at the thought and took a deep breath, closing her eyes and centring herself once again.

"And the final piece of the puzzle is this." Stan put the bag on the ground, crouched and with a flourish pulled two more objects from the bag. A video camera and a collapsible tripod.

"Oh wait, Stanny... I don't think that's a good idea." Gretchen's eyes were wider and now she was seriously worried. Their relationship wasn't strong, and if Stan recorded this and they broke up there was no way this wouldn't end up on the internet for every guy in the world to beat off to. "I don't want you to tape this." He'd never taped anything before had he? Had he hidden a camera? Oh God! Gretchen's heart was pounding as Stan erected the tripod in the corner and fitted the camera on top.

"This'll be so great babe," he didn't seem to have heard her, "I'll tape it, and we can watch it back while I'm fucking you from behind. Oh man, that's gonna be so hot."

"That's..." actually, that did sound pretty hot, "Listen, I need to think about this. We need to talk about it. Maybe next time we do this, ok?"

"Why not this time?" Stan straightened up and she couldn't see his face, but she could see the camera lens exactly at her eye level and she watched, stunned as he pressed a button and the little red light came on.

"Turn it off Stan," she made her voice hard and serious, but Stan ignored her, taking another loop of rope from the floor and the red tube vibe from the dresser. "I don't want this recorded." He didn't say anything, just gave her thigh a gentle push making her body spiral gently in the air.

This time she didn't feel the air moving across her skin, she felt the intrusive gaze of the camera lens taking her all in. Her pleading face, her dangling breasts, then her thigh, then - as she rotated a hundred and eighty degrees - her restrained legs and her scandalously displayed pussy. She kept spinning, turning to face the camera again, trying not to look directly into the lens, trying to make eye contact with Stan, but he was just standing there, nudging her further around.

"It's for us babe," he murmured, "you don't think this is gonna be hot?"

"I'm sure it's gonna be hot," Gretchen swallowed, painfully aware of how her neck was stretched when she did that, "but I don't want it videoed."

"Don't you trust me babe?"

"Of course I do," she lied.

"It's just for us." He span her again, the held her, turned so that the camera could get a good long look at her soft pink lips, and her light brown hair, exactly the same colour as the hair that was tied back forcing her to stare at the empty corner of the room as the digital camera recorded what she looked like at her most helpless.

She almost squealed when he split her ass again, exposing her tight little asshole to that one digital eye, but bit her lip and stifled the sound, rather than give him the satisfaction of getting her shriek on tape.

"Don't film that! Stan!" Her voice was stressed and strained she could hear, but she couldn't calm down now. She felt Stan plant a moist kiss on her left cheek, then he released her ass and his hands moved down, his fingertips brushing over the lips of her pussy, rubbing gently at the skin of her inner thighs, teasing and probing. She knew what would happen to her if he kept this up (he really was very good at turning her on) and she couldn't let that be captured on film.

"I wanted to do this for you baby," she appealed to him, "not put on a show for some fucking camera."

"Well, why can't you do both?" Stan asked simply, and slid his finger firmly over her pussy, pressing it in as her lips obediently opened for him. It didn't penetrate her properly, but it opened her up, and made her know that whatever her reservations, she was already wet, and would soon be ready for whatever he had in mind for her.




Gretchen in Suspension



She couldn't help squealing this time, a kind of strangled complaint that she managed to choke into a sob that probably sounded just as pathetic. "Oh Stan, no, please don't." Both of Stan's hands moved in smoothly, sliding over the ropes and her soft skin, and his fingers found their targets quickly. With another chuckle he gently pulled her lips apart and exposed all of her hot, pink secrets to the camera.

Gretchen squeezed her eyes closed, and gasped as he held her tantalizingly open for what seemed like an unbearably long time. This was a betrayal of trust, what the hell was he doing? It was one thing to tease her, but to keep going when she had seriously asked him to stop? Gretchen's face flushed with frustration as she realised her pussy was just a toy for him and the camera. What she wanted didn't matter anymore.

But she couldn't deny the way her body was responding. Stan seemed to be systematically exploring all of the folds and regions of her hot, wet cleft for the benefit of the camera and his slow, methodical fingers were driving her insane. There was pressure and it was exquisite, so much so that she forgot to be angry for a split second, but then the pressure would move on and it would be a teasing, pulling sensation that made her growl in frustration. Stan's fingers moved and she knew he was closing in on her clit. He stepped away and she heard him lift the camera, tripod and all. Oh god, he was going to get a close up wasn't he?

"Stan, no don't. Stop filming and this'll be... it'll be so hot."

"It's already hot babe. Oh... what have we here? Something's hiding."

"Noooo..." She half gasped, half groaned as he roughly fingered her clit, forgetting his subtlety and just rubbing it to fully expose and arouse it. "Ah... fuck. Fuck you Stan." Gretchen's eyes were squeezed closed, her brow furrowed as she instinctively tried to suppress her response to his clumsy finger.

"Oh, wait till you see this babe. You can see everything. It's so, so hot."

"Are you listening to me? I don't..." it was getting harder for her to concentrate, her breath was getting ragged, "...want to be filmed like some porn whore. I want to have fun with you. You and me right?"

"Oh babe, you'll see how hot this is." As Stan moved away again Gretchen moaned in frustration, both at her predicament, and at the fact that he had stopped rubbing her burning clit. He looped another rope around her, but this one was cutting diagonally across her wet, open pussy, over her left hip. What was he doing? "So, anyway I've gotta go out for a while."

"You've what?" Like a cartoon character, Gretchen's eyes almost popped out of her skull. "What did you say?"

"I promised I'd give Dan a hand moving some stuff to his new apartment Gretch, I can't let him down."

"You fucker," at this Gretchen almost laughed. This was the kind of excruciating tease she could enjoy, although the presence of the camera was still fucking everything up for her.

"So I'll be back as soon as I can babe, in the meantime," with a shiver Gretchen felt him squeeze that evil looking red tube between the rope and her moist opening, positioning it so that it lay diagonally across her lips, held firmly in place by his simple rope harness, "I can't just leave you with nothing to do."

"Oh you fucker, you'd better not." Gretchen's voice was a combination of amused disbelief and genuine threat.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Stan repeated and with a click, started the vibe. Immediately Gretchen wanted to arch her back and move, to manipulate the buzzing shaft into a more pleasurable position, or even better to get rid of it. But she could do little more than twitch, and the device was laying agonizingly across her pussy, stimulating her but not hitting any of the good spots.

Stan gave her a solid push and started her spinning again. "Feel free to come," he remarked, "it'll all be on the camera so I can watch it back later." And with that he left, closing the bedroom door behind him.

A few minutes later she heard the front door slam.

Gretchen span; bound, restrained and tormented by vibrations that relentlessly attacked her helpless pussy. What the hell could she do? She screamed and shouted for Stan a couple of times, in case he was hiding outside the front door waiting to come back in, but then she remembered the camera - oh god the camera! - and realised that maybe that was exactly the sort of begging and pleading that he wanted to see.

She could move her weight a little she found, and she rocked herself into a gentle swing, but that was getting her nowhere and she felt much safer if she was just turning in a flat spin.

The camera! Taking all this in: her pathetic struggling and the gasps and whimpers that she couldn't stifle. And all the time that fucking vibe! It wasn't even set very high! It was maddening, buzzing away turning her on more and more, but she knew that if she did climax, it would be a dull, agonizing sensation, not the satisfaction that she was craving.

She was torn - on one hand this was an incredible, torturously wonderful experience, but on the other she couldn't totally lose herself in it because Stan... she didn't love Stan anymore. No, she didn't even like Stan anymore, no matter how titanic the orgasm he brought her to.

Though her wrists were just as secure as the rest of her tightly bound body, her fingers were free and Gretchen started reaching and stretching them. Maybe... if she really stretched...

Gretchen, panting and her desperation increasing with every agonising moment she spent as some human sex-swing, couldn't shake the feeling that no matter what she did she was performing for the camera. Her face blushing scarlet again as she swung to face the lens, she tried to ignore it and concentrate on her hands.

She could turn her wrists a tiny bit she found, and she could force her hands even closer to her back by pushing her shoulders back uncomfortably. With a little stretching she could touch her own ass and then she could trace down its curve, cringing at the perspiration that slicked her fingers and that she felt must be covering her entire body

She could feel the soft flesh trembling, shaken by the noisy vibe that sat just out of reach. With her left hand she couldn't reach it - she felt like it would take just one nudge to free it and drop it onto the bed but she couldn't make it.

She sobbed in frustration, and tried her right hand. This one sat closer to the centre of her pert backside, and she found the easiest way was to let her fingers trail down the hot, sweat-slick valley between her cheeks, and see how far she could get.

She tried to arch her back, edging her fingers closer and closer (she hoped) to her goal. Through her fingertips, through her ass, the vibrations were very strong now, and suddenly she felt it. The vibe was held by the simple rope harness, but it was sticking quite far up, so the "base" end was also resting a little between the very bottom of her ass cheeks and sticking up in the air. Her fingers brushed it, the hard plastic shifting a millimetre at most.

Opening her eyes and taking deep breaths to prepare herself for another attempt she realised that she had spun to face away from the camera. That meant that her groping, struggling hand; fumbling pathetically around her ass as she grunted with exertion, was being captured for posterity on that goddamn memory card. Fuck it! She bit her lip again, to keep from crying out in rage, and used that anger to stretch back and try and knock the vibe out of its little loop of rope.

Her fingers connected firmly and the vibe shifted, slipping down. She almost whooped with joy as she felt it go, slipping quickly between her skin and the rope and then...

It didn't drop.

Oh god, not only did it not drop, but it had shifted from an obtuse diagonal angle to being in a straight vertical line, directly on top of her wet, hungry lips. Now she could feel it properly. Oh God! Feel it and how! She didn't know, couldn't tell, if it was partly inside of her, or how it had stopped falling and come to rest but now it was having its full intended effect on her.

She could feel the buzzing all the way through her, and now she couldn't help it as little yelps and moans came bursting, fast and sexy, from her mouth. Whether she wanted to or not she couldn't avoid giving the camera exactly what it wanted, her trembling hips, her wet, pouting mouth, her brow furrowed in ecstasy. The red vibrator wasn't exactly on her clit, otherwise she would have been a thrashing, screaming mess, but it was close enough that her orgasm was inevitable and only moments away.

Gretchen span in suspension, she couldn't move her arms, her legs, her head, anything; but she could feel everything. Her body was tingling and her skin felt like it was twitching and jumping everywhere there wasn't rope to hold it down. She felt the lips of her pussy being stimulated unbearably, and behind them the actual opening to her warm body was shaking, begging for penetration that wouldn't come for... what, maybe hours?

This thought caught Gretchen by surprise, and so did her first orgasm. A kind of sobbing noise transformed into a long, low moan of denial as it swept up on her.

"Ohhhh, no, no, noooooo..." Then she wasn't using words, just bestial grunts and groans as her immobile body was wracked by a blast of pleasure. She couldn't even buck her hips, and she wanted to writhe and twist so much. Christ, she wasn't even able to shake her head and flick her hair like she knew Stan liked... Wait fuck Stan, she didn't have to please him anymore, he was gonna get his kicks right enough when he watched all this on the...

Her eyes shot open, she had forgotten the camera again, and she found herself staring into its lens as it coldly captured her wide eyed face, tortured by pleasure and tormented by restraint.

She came again, or her climax continued, she couldn't tell, but she felt the muscles inside her tensing and pressing now beyond her control. And this time she really screamed, hoarse and wet and completely unrestrained.

At that point of course, she heard the doorbell ring.

Her eyes open again in surprise she bit her lip, hard this time, trying to cut the sound off. But it kept on against her will, a low guttural moan deep in her throat. The doorbell kept ringing. She wasn't climaxing any more, the feeling of her whole body trying to escape from inside itself was dying away now thank god, but the teasing, evil tube was still there and she knew it would get much more out of her.

Dimly, she became aware of a voice shouting something from outside, but she didn't pay it much attention, concentrating on breathing exercises to stay in control as much as she could. It wasn't like she could answer the door anyway, she almost laughed at that thought.

Then she heard the front door open.

"Stanton? Gretchen?"

What the fuck? Who the hell was that? Gretchen span into a full-blown panic now, someone was in the house, and she was trussed and wet and ready for fucking. It didn't bear thinking about, what could happen, and blind terror threatened to engulf her.

"I heard some weird noises, and no one was answering so I got the spare key from round the side of the apartment."

Oh god! It was Raf, Stan's friend Raf! Saint Raf, one of the nicest, gentlest guys she knew, if there was anyone she was happy to be in the apartment with in this condition... no wait that was a stupid thought. Anyway, she couldn't imagine a world in which Raf would take advantage of anyone, even when they were tied up with their pussy offered on a plate, like she was right now. But still, she didn't want him to see the need to investigate the apartment for burglars, she had to get rid of him somehow.

"Raf?" she shouted.

"Gretch?" His footsteps started crossing the living room to the bedroom door. Damn it!

"Ah... don't come in, it's a fucking mess in here Raf!"

"Ok," he hesitated, "I've got those DVDs Stan wanted. The sci-fi stuff."

"Um, oh, great," that fucking vibe, now that her heart had stopped pounding like a jack hammer, was making its presence felt again, "just put the...ah...them on the table."

"Sure. Sorry to bust in here, I thought, like, you might be in some trouble or... something. Like a burglar." Raf was so cute, a little spacey at times, but he was pretty sexy along with it. Gretchen, her mind a little fuzzy from the orgasm and the restraint and everything found herself wandering off into dream land...

"It's cool Raf, nice to know you'd come in and check on the... mmmm... the place."

"Are you... ok? Gretch?"

"What? No... no... uhmmffuck... I'm fine." What was she doing? She had to get control of herself or he'd come and check on her.

"You sound a little... odd." Raf's voice was laden with suspicion.

Gretchen focused all her will power and concentrated on sounded as bored and busy as possible. "Just sorting all the summer clothes and the winter clothes and it's such a tip, that's why I can't get to the do-ohmyfuckingchrist! Oh no!"

She had been so close, giving such a good performance! But the spark of pleasure, shooting up from her clit as the vibe finally slipped to a position right over it, had given her away. She heard two big striding steps and Raf pulled the door open.

"Gretch! Are you..." he froze; his eyes wide; his jaw hanging slackly, stupidly open. "What. The. Fuck?"

Gretchen closed her eyes and screamed, still spinning, the vibrator still buzzing: "Raf! Get out! Close the fucking door!" Raf just stood there mutely, hypnotized by the wet dream he'd somehow wandered into.

"I thought you'd been like... tied up by burglar or... there was... or..." he mumbled in a kind of trance as his eyes ate up the naked, heavily bound girl before him. "This wasn't a burglar right?"

"The fuck do you think Raf? This is private! Get the fuck out of here!"

"Woah, is that a... vibrator?"

"Yes it's a..." Gretchen caught herself midway through the answer, "It doesn't matter! Raf! Get out and close the door!" Oh god, and now here it came again...

"Stan is like, the luckiest man alive I swear," Raf's voice almost broke into a kind of sob as he continued to watch Gretchen spiralling slowly one way, then the other. "He's the luckiest asshole alive."

"Raf. Please. Go. This is humiliating enou-oh, oh! Oh my..." Gretchen bit down hard on her lip this time, trying to fight away the feeling that was beginning to bloom. It was filling her though, it couldn't be quelled, the vibrator had positioned itself in the worst possible position and suddenly the back of her eyelids were lighting up with primary colours and she couldn't remember what year it was. She lost the English language too of course, just exhaling savagely through her nose while dragging in gulps of air around the teeth she had sunk into her lower lip. She came, hard. When she opened her eyes, unsurprisingly, Raf was still there.

"Oh man. Did you just come?"

"Yes Raf. I came." Gretchen gasped dryly. What next? Bound, filmed, forced to climax, humiliated in front of a perfectly nice, cute boy who she'd always liked and who probably now thought that she was a slut... She wasn't coming right then, but she would again soon.

"That was," Raf put his hand on his heart, "the hottest thing I've ever seen Gretch."

Gretchen, her naked breasts moving with each heaved breath she took, her face red and dripping with perspiration looked up at Raf. He was apologising now and turning to go, he wasn't going to take advantage, she realised with relief. With his olive-brown skin, short messy afro and stylish clothes he looked like something straight out of a fashion magazine. She looked like something straight out of a fetish porn magazine.

"I'm sorry Gretch, I'm going, I won't tell..."

"Raf wait. There's a camera over there."

"Shit, you're filming this?" Raf bit his lip in frustration. "That lucky goddamn..."

"No wait. Stan wanted to film this and I... hah, I couldn't really stop him. Can you..." she fought for breath, "turn off the camera and smash the memory card? Please?"

Raf frowned a little seriously now. "Are you ok like this Gretch? Did Stan make you do this?" He crossed quickly to the camera, turned off that little red light and quickly worked out how to pop out the memory card.

"No, I agreed to it. Me and Stan are..."

"Going to break up, he says." Gretchen was a little surprised that Stan had talked about this, but she was having difficulty holding the conversation now.

"Raf, I..." she swallowed, "Can you get rid of this vibrator too? I don't, I can't..."

"Hey, don't worry." Raf came close to her and stopped her spin with his hand on one of the rope supports. Gretchen blushed all over again to think that Raf was inspecting her, probably red, swollen pussy so closely. But for some reason it didn't feel creepy, he was dealing with this in the least lecherous way possible. "It's kinda, right on you - if you see what I mean," he said, "I think I'll have to touch... y'know."

"Fuck it Raf, I'm gonna come again in a minute and I don't want to come again like this so please just go ahead and touch whatever you need to." Her voice sounded hoarse and strained now, she didn't care.

His fingers were steady as they brushed gently over her pussy and with a long sigh of relief she felt the vibe pulled away at last. He turned it off with a click.

"Oh God, thank you."

"Hey, and check this out." He saw that she couldn't move her head and held the memory card up in front of her. Then he used both hands to bend and snap the hard plastic token in half. "Man, these things are tougher than they look." He tossed it on the floor.

"Fuck, Raf. Thanks." Gretchen slowed her breathing, centring again, and regained control of her scattered mind. She felt more rational, but in the middle of that grew an irrational irritation with her boyfriend. "What the fuck was he thinking, with that video, leaving me here."

"Where did he go?" Raf moved round in front of her, but didn't think to bend down so Gretchen could only see his waist. God, Raf had seen everything there was to see of her, she realised. Her breasts, her most intimate places, the crumpled face she made when she was forced to orgasm... everything except the places that were covered with rope.

"He said he was helping Dan move."

"Dan moved last weekend," Raf responded coolly. Still holding the rope to stop her from spinning.

"He what?"

"Me and Travis helped him. Stan wasn't there, lazy asshole."

"Then where the fuck...?"

"There's a big game this afternoon. I think I heard Stan was meeting Dan at a bar or something..."

Gretchen closed her eyes. Why lie about something like that, she couldn't even... She took a deep breath and counted to ten, and thought "I'm going to break up with Stan today." When she opened her eyes for some reason she noticed the outline of Raf's cock, hard and pressing against the dark denim of his jeans. She didn't know why she hadn't noticed it before.

"Uh, Raf. Are you... hard?"

"Gretch, I mean, no offense, I've tried to be as much of a gentleman as I can about this. But that was, and this right now is, straight up, the hottest, sexiest thing I've ever seen in my entire life. I'm surprised I haven't just shot in my pants already."

Gretchen couldn't help giggling, and couldn't help pushing it. "Show me."

"What? Listen, I couldn't live with myself if I thought I was taking advantage girl."

"Raf, you're looking at me stark naked, splayed open and humiliated by my soon to be ex-boyfriend. I think you owe me a little peek of my own."

She couldn't see his smile, but she could hear it, "Soon to be ex?"

Even in her bound and shaken state Gretchen could still manage that slow, dirty smile that all of Stan's friends secretly coveted. "Gonna show me that cock?" She felt confidence flowing back into her as Raf fumbled with his fly, filling her like that unstoppable orgasm had filled her moments ago. He popped the buttons of his jeans quickly, then slowly pushed the front of his blue name-brand boxers down until his long, almost rigid prick slipped out and jutted up towards her.




Gretchen in Suspension



Gretchen licked her lips without thinking. No, not as big as Stan's but a good size, and beautifully proportioned with a mouth-watering curve and a satisfying thickness to it. Short curly pubic hair and what looked like deliciously heavy balls.

"Well? Fair's fair." Raf sounded like the cat who got the cream. Gretchen got the feeling he might have a little crush on her. Under all the bare-faced lust of course.

"Well, not quite," more of the usual, playful Gretchen was creeping in all the time, "you got to see me come Raf. Why don't you stroke that thing for me a little?"

"Oh, you're serious?" Raf laughed, and keeping her steady with his left hand so she could see, he wrapped his long fingers around the thick shaft of his cock and pulled down to the base of it.

"Mmmmm!" Gretchen couldn't help the little moan of delight she made as she watched him. She loved cocks, she loved boys showing off their cocks, and playing with their cocks and she loved being in control, even when bound and restrained. Right now she had all of those things.

Raf's fingers uncurled and repositioned themselves slowly - he really was putting on a show for her! Then he gave his prick several slow, firm strokes. Gretchen loved how tightly he grabbed that thing, how thorough his movements were.

"Well?" he was stroking it steadily now, his hand moving from the base and the short tangle of hair smoothly up to just below the bulge of the head where he seemed to linger, squeezing slightly before sliding back down. His breathing was starting to resemble hers from earlier, laboured and distracted. "Do you want me to cum too?"

Gretchen was already ahead of him. "Um, yeah, but remember, I didn't get to make myself cum."

"Uh, Gretch. Listen is this OK? I mean you two are..."

"Just shut up and come round behind me with that beautiful prick you idiot. We're not going to fuck."

"We're not?" Raf didn't move, instead he span her gently. She yelped in surprise.

"Oh very smart, smart-ass." Gretchen flexed her slightly mobile hands and opened and closed her fingers in a greedy, clutching gesture. "Now, can you guess where I want you to put your prick?"

"Holy. Shit." Raf muttered, stepping forwards until she felt the heat of his thighs pressing against hers and his balls against her pussy. She shivered and gasped, but he needed to rise up onto the balls of his feet, support himself by holding onto the rope that she was swinging from, and rest that heavy package right on her pert ass so that her hungry fingers could finally curl around his solid, gently bobbing member.

She sighed happily as she finally got it in her hands and quickly and roughly explored it as much as the awkward position allowed, making him grunt in surprise. It was hard, hot and inflexible. He really was turned on. This was the first cock other than Stan's she had touched in five years and it felt fabulously different, and she in turn felt an electricity pulsing through her she hadn't experienced for so long.

"Easy!"

"Think that vibe went easy on me?" Gretchen growled, and started to firmly jerk the thick cock with a fiercely tight grip and slow, steady rhythm. She fumbled to tease the fat package that was squeezed against her round cheeks, but couldn't reach it. Instead she focused her attention on the thick shaft and the hot head that was rapidly getting slick and wet with Raf's thick pre-come.

Raf was taking deep breaths and making low, soft noises as he hung onto the rope. Gretchen's range of movement was severely limited, but it didn't seem to stop her propelling him rapidly towards a violent orgasm.

"Jesus. Gretch you're too... I think I'm gonna come soon. I can't hold it." He grunted savagely.

"Oh my god, so soon?"

"I was pretty seriously turned on, remember?" Gretchen made a circle with her forefinger and thumb, just under the head of his prick and pinched tightly jerking him with minute, teasing movements. Her fingers were sticky from toying with him now, and she used the fingers of her other hand to use that to lubricate up and down his shaft. "Oh sweet fucking Jesus, how are you doing this?"

"Oh, is the little helpless bound girl too much for you Raf?" Gretchen giggled and wrapped both hands around his dick once more, her digits slipping over the hot, hard flesh that was slippery with his own cream. Her hands were tight and her movements, just like she had watched him do, were smooth and thorough - not too fast, not too slow.

"Oh, I'm going... I can't... ungh!" Raf grunted, lost in pleasure. "Faster Gretch, I'm almost there."

"Faster?" Gretchen laughed, almost cackled, wickedly. "I don't think so Raf baby." Instead she gripped him even harder and slowed her strokes unbearably, pulling down hard on his soft skin and keeping it held back for far too long before continuing.

"What are you doing to me?" Raf sounded like he was almost passing out as Gretchen gave him another agonizing, vice-like pump.

"Making you shoot that hot cream all over my cute little ass of course you idiot!" Gretchen giggled and gave Raf one last long, teasing stroke.

This filthy description was too much and despite the glacially slow pace of her hand Gretchen whooped with delight as she felt Raf's thick prick buck and jerk and spurt in her hands. Oh god, she wished she could see this!

Raf was grunting like a beast and for a moment as his creamy come arced through the air she couldn't feel anything. Then she felt a heavy, hot string splatter in the small of her back, another at the top of her ass, then another just under where his cock stood, erect above her ass. She felt more come trickle thickly over her fingers as his balls continued to pulse and send more of her sticky prize to spurt and drip from his teased manhood.

"Now that is so hot baby," Gretchen laughed again, "I kinda wish we'd left the camera on so I could see you coming all over me."

"Jesus..." Raf sounded like he couldn't breathe.

"How do I look? Did you make a mess?"

"Oh Jesus..."

"Pull yourself together Raf!"

"Gretch I... I came all over you. What about Stan? He's gonna come back right?" Gretchen made a sour face, to be dragged out of the moment and reminded about that.

"You know what?" her voice was strong and decisive, "Screw him, get me down from here and cut these ropes Raf, there's some big scissors in the kitchen that should do."

"With pleasure." Raf paused somewhere out of sight, to clean himself off Gretchen guessed, then went out to get the scissors. Gretchen, spinning slowly once again, enjoyed the silence, tracing her fingers through the slick wet mess that was slowly getting stickier and stickier on the smooth curve of her ass.

Raf reappeared, lowered her back down onto the bed and set about the ropes.

"What are you going to do Gretch?"

"Now? Pack some things and stay with a friend I guess. Sort things out with Stan over the next few days, cry a lot once I come down off this... whatever this is. Get coffee with you next week."

"Coffee with me?" Again, she could hear his slow smirk as he cut one leg completely free of the rope. She stretched it out, the muscles groaning and complaining as normal circulation was restored.

"Yeah!" she said playfully. "I mean, if I just give you a hand job after you watch me come, and then we don't see each other properly again - it sound s a bit slutty doesn't it?"

"Not really," Raf cut her other leg free, "just sounds sexy to me."



Gretchen Meets Mr. Long



I'm very fortunate and I know it. By fifth grade, I knew how to play the system to get what I wanted. I found that certain actions by me necessarily resulted in predictable responses by others. So I became very proficient at manipulating people. It's amazing how far a smile from a pretty girl can go. This is not to say that I never studied. I studied hard. But the more I learned, the more I understood how to achieve my goals in school and in life.

There have been a few setbacks, for sure. Nothing is guaranteed, and everything doesn't come easy. My ambition has left little time for relationships. However, I've always been close to my sister Gretchen, who is six years younger. Mom died when she was only five and Dad never remarried. So, as a mother-substitute, big sister Jenny willingly helped her to achieve her own goals with encouragement and love.

Having graduated from nursing school, I was fortunate to find work in a hospital in my home city. It was hard work, but I enjoyed it. There were some sad times when patients were really sick, but those were offset by the patients who just need minor surgery or a little TLC to heal, recover, and go home again. My people skills and the shortage of qualified nurses worked to my advantage. In less than a year, I was head nurse on the night shift. There were normally only three of us to cover a 14-room ward of non-critical patients, so our jobs consisted of mostly monitoring and tending patients. On weekends, it could get busier; especially if we received transfers from another floor or from the ER. 

We got our share of groping from randy patients who viewed us as sex objects. Some of them were so drugged up that they didn't know what they were doing. Others were lucid, and offered to take me out when they got out of the hospital. Usually, I just smiled as I took their pulse and blood pressure, helped them to the bathroom, changed their bedpans, or gave sponge baths. With my acquired people skills, I helped most patients during a tough time with conversation that put them at ease. A soothing, sympathetic voice and handholding were usually sufficient for the female patients. 

Sometimes though, I was a "naughty nurse", helping a male patient to relieve his stress with more than conversation. The first time a patient took my hand and placed it on the sheet over his erection, I was shocked. I was forewarned, of course, and told repeatedly in my training to politely rebuff any such request for more than usual nursing care. That was fine for teachers to say, but out on the "front lines", we were expected to offer treatment in the best interests of our patients. This left plenty of room for interpretation, as far as I was concerned. If I could help them feel better, wasn't that part of nursing? This did not bother the other nurses. Some, I expect, chose to participate in similar actions. Most I knew chose to look the other way, or were busy with their own patient care. So, when a sponge bath turned into a hand job, it was all part of the job, as far as I was concerned. As long as I was the one to choose and the patient remained mum about the act, it didn't bother me. In fact, I've seen so many erect cocks, I could write a book about them. Men are so helpless when they are aroused. They think they have so much control, just because they are bigger than most women. But it is the woman who controls them. Most women have no idea how much power they have when their man is hot to trot.

Gretchen was a senior in high school, getting ready to go to college. Her ambition was to become a veterinarian. She had interned with the local vet, who suggested that she could take over his practice someday. She had visited me at college several times over the years. On holidays and on long weekends, we had many late-night talk sessions. She complained that Dad seemed over-protective of her, restricting her activities, and enforcing a curfew. With long dark hair and a figure to be jealous of for her age, Gretchen was growing into a very pretty and desirable woman, but she was never satisfied with her dates. She complained that all of the boys were so immature, wanting only to fondle her tits and get in her pants. She confessed to being a virgin at 18 simply because she could not imagine a relationship with the "self-centered, egotistical, immature jocks or nerds" in her school. No wonder she thought she wanted to care for animals! I could sense her frustration, but reminded her that she would soon see a whole new world when she entered college.

One particular weekend, I was visiting her at home. We were drinking wine and talking about my work. I was still on the night shift. We had only four patients and it was pretty slow. One of those patients, John Long, was in for surgery on his shoulder. He was 30, solidly built, and easy on the eyes, if you know what I mean. I told her how John had said his name was Long John in the phone book, but he preferred to be called Jack.

I must have been a little tipsy when I told Gretchen about Jack, because I went on to tell her about how Jack "accidentally" exposed himself while I was taking his temperature.

"Really, Gretch, his cock just flopped out! Honestly, it looked like it was a foot long, with a big helmet head."

"Oh my god, Jen," said Gretchen. "What did you do?"

"I said, 'Don't look now, but we have a visitor!' and pointed at his dick."

"What happened then?"

"He said his "visitor" had a mind of its own and asked did I mind."

"What did you say?" asked Gretchen.

"I said I've seen worse and reached to cover him up, but he grabbed my wrist and put in on his cock. He looked me in the eyes and started to rub my hand over his cock," I said.

"You didn't!"

"Yes, I did. And it wasn't the first time I did that with a patient. But you can't say anything, or I could lose my job."

"Oh, Jen. Of course not. What happened then?"

"Well, he got hard real fast. It just got longer and thicker until it was poking up. I wrapped my hand around it and caressed the length. Like I said, I've done that before, so I know what a guy likes. He said 'Keep going', so I did."

"Nobody could see?" asked Gretchen.

"No we were alone. It was night and his room is at the end of the hall."

"So you jacked him off?"

I took another drink of wine and said, "Yes, I did. He was moaning and pumping his hips up through my hand as I was stroking him. I got some lotion from my pocket and applied it to both hands, warming it up. Then I pumped his big cock until I could tell he was going to cum. I used both hands to make him cum on his own belly."

"Oh, wow. I wish I could have seen that!" exclaimed Gretchen.

Quickly, I replied, "You could if you really want to."

Her eyes got wide and she said "How?"

"I can get you a Candy Striper outfit and you can come to the hospital. You want to?"

"Yeah. I won't get you in trouble?"

"No, I can control what goes on there most nights. But you got to come tonight. He's getting operated on tomorrow."

"What should I do? Can I do what you did?" asked Gretchen.

"You can do anything you want," I said. I'll cover for you as long as you want."

"OK then. Let's do it!" Gretch was excited about playing the 'naughty nurse", I could tell.

I told her to be there around midnight and come to the fifth floor ward. I gave her instructions on where to find the Candy Striper uniform in our locker room. She showed up right on time.

"The uniform's a little tight", she complained.

"Don't worry. You look great. He'll love it. Here, open the top two buttons like this. You've got a great cleavage. Let's get him hot for you."

"What am I supposed to be doing in there, anyway?"

"Start with taking his blood pressure and pulse. You know how to do that, right?"

"Sure," Gretchen replied.

"After that, ask him if he needs a sponge bath. Even if he just had one, he'll be sure to say yes. Here's the sponge and pan. Pull the curtain around the bed. After that, you can do whatever you want. He'll be putty in your hands! Well, not really putty, but you know what I mean!"

Blushing slightly, Gretchen took the stuff and walked quietly toward Jack's room. She opened the door, softly calling "Mr. Long? I'm here to take your pressure." She closed the door after going inside the room.

Jack was asleep as she entered, but aroused slowly in the dim light. "What? Oh not again! I just got to..." As he saw Gretchen, he stopped and stared. She was practically busting out of her uniform.

"Wait a minute. You're not the regular nurse. Have I seen you before?" asked Jack.

"No. I'm Gretchen. Nurse Jenny said I should get your pressure." Gretchen drew the curtain most of the way around the bed. After making sure the other nurses had assignments for the next hour or so, I took that opportunity to sneak into Jack's room unnoticed by he and Gretchen. I wanted to hear, even if I couldn't see what was going on behind the curtain.

"All right," said Jack, practically drooling at my sister. She fumbled with the cuff, finally getting it around his arm.

"No too tight, Gretchen. You don't want to cut off my circulation!"

"Sorry, Mr. Long."

"Call me Jack. So, have you been at this very long?"

"Actually no, Jack. I just got this assignment. I volunteered for the late shift 'cause I go to school during the day."

"You want to be a nurse, then?" asked Jack.

"I want to explore all my options before I decide for sure," replied Gretchen. Finally releasing the cuff, she noted the numbers on the chart. She was losing her nervousness as she talked with Jack. His good nature helped put her to ease. His good looks helped too, I'm sure.

"Is there anything else you need, Jack?" offered Gretchen.

"Yeah. Maybe you could fluff up my pillow."

"Sure. I can do that for you." As she reached on both sides of his head, leaning over his face, he got a good look at my sister's voluptuous chest. She "accidentally" leaned too far, dropping a breast against his cheek. "Oh, sorry," she said, backing up.

"I didn't mind at all," replied Jack. "Actually I enjoyed it very much. You smell nice." As he spoke, he moved the sheet to the side. His hospital gown was his only other covering. Curious about whether what I had said was really true about the size of Jack's cock, Gretchen looked down.

"There is something else you can do for me, Gretchen, if you want," Jack said as he saw the direction of her gaze. Slowly he pulled up his gown until the full length of his semi-erect cock was exposed. "I've got this itch, nurse. Can you scratch it for me?"

"Oh, Jack. You've got a big problem there!" she exclaimed. Unable to control herself from staring, she decided to move in again for a closer look.

"Go ahead. Touch me," begged Jack.

With one hand, she reached out, the tips of her fingers lightly grazing the length of his cock. It twitched at her touch, moving like a thing alive. She grasped the shaft and held it softly as it continued to grow in her hand. Quickly, his cock reached full erection, pointing up as she held it. It was thick enough that her fingers did not meet around the shaft. Her other hand joined the first and began to slowly rub the skin up the shaft to the head. It's got to be nine inches long and so thick! thought Gretchen.

"That's it, honey. Keep that up. That feels nice." He reached out, caressing her shoulder, fingering the collar. Slowly, the tips of his fingers brushed across her neck, then down to the cleavage between her breasts. Reaching the buttons, he released one, then two, and then more until Gretchen's unrestrained tits were fully exposed. Jack tweaked a nipple, cupping the whole thing before moving to its identical twin on the other side.

"That feels nice too," I heard Gretchen whisper. "Now I know why they call you Mr. Long!" She actively pumped his rigid pole with both hands. As the first drops of pre-cum oozed from the tip, she spread the moisture over the head, sending shivers up Jack's spine. Bending further over the bed to allow him to play with her tits, she lowered her head toward his cock. She gave it a light kiss and a lick; then she opened her mouth and took the slick purple helmet inside. Closing her lips around it, she alternately licked and sucked as she continued to pump slowly.

"Oh, honey. That's so good," whispered Jack. "Come up on the bed." Gretchen climbed up, straddling Jack's chest, facing his knees. This allowed Jack to see that she was not wearing anything under her dress. Quickly, he unbuttoned it the rest of the way, pulling it off and dropping it beside the bed.

I could see shadows on the curtain in the dim light. Their position on the bed and the sounds behind the shade go me hot. I began to finger myself as I listened to them make love.

Jack pulled her hips down until the golden globes of her ass were directly over his face. With two fingers, he spread the pussy lips, already wet with anticipation. Probing gently, he found her sweet spot. Pulling again, he had her lower her pussy to his waiting mouth. His tongue darted out, penetrated her moist lips, and began to move over her clit, as two fingers continued to probe inside her orifice.

Gretchen was losing control rapidly, as evidenced by her moaning and humping Jack's face. "Oh, oh, oh," she grunted as he licked deeper and faster. It was all she could do to continue to suck Jack's cock as he expertly brought her closer to orgasm. Within a few minutes, Gretchen felt her own pulse racing as she approached orgasm. "Oh, oh, YEAHH!" she exclaimed as she gushed her juices over his face. He continued to lap as she came.

Ready to release his own juices, Jack said, "I'm gonna cum!"

Gretchen continued to suck as much of his big cock as she could get inside her mouth, as she pumped the shaft with both hands, encouraging him to release his spunk. She felt the slight pause in his humping as he pushed upward into her mouth. Suddenly, he was spurting great gobs of cum. She struggled to swallow, but was quickly overwhelmed with the volume. Releasing him from her mouth, the next white glob struck her forehead, dripping down over her eye to her cheek. Several more thick ropes of cum pumped from the head of his cock. As she pumped and squeezed, she could feel the large vein underneath contract to shoot spurt after spurt from the tip. Finally, the last of it dripped over her tiny hands. She bent back to lick the accumulated cum from his cock, swallowing then what she could not before. When he was clean, she turned to dismount. She used the corner of the sheet to clean her face.

Jack was grinning. "Honey, that was the best cum I can remember!"

"Thanks," replied Gretchen, smiling back. "You've got a great tongue."

"Maybe we can do that again some time," hinted Jack.

"Let's get you through your surgery first," said Gretchen, not wanting to commit to anything. Stooping, she picked up and donned her uniform. The room smelled strongly of sex, which was an improvement over the usual sterile non-smell. I found that I had cum along with the two of them. I just managed to sneak out of the room before Gretchen threw back the curtain. Throwing Jack a kiss and a smile, she left.

Meeting her in the hallway, I asked, "Did everything work out OK?"

"Oh yes!" Gretchen replied. "Did it ever! Maybe I'll look into getting a job as a nurse instead of as a vet. No animal can compare to that!" 



Gretchen Mueller



At nineteen, hormones drove my entire life.  Everything I did centered around sex and the possibility of getting some (any).  I was a six-foot three inches, 190 pound, sandy haired, handsome devil, so I didn't have too much trouble in that department, but I could have gotten a lot more if I wasn't so inexperienced.  

I had just graduated from high school and was working part-time evenings in a fast food joint when I found out one of the really hot girls I was interested in, had been accepted under a state sponsored program to go to a massage therapists school.

I applied for admission to the same school the next morning before I went to work.  Mrs. Mueller, one of the instructors interviewed me and I was accepted on the spot.  We started class the following Monday at 9 a.m. 

The first week was boring as hell because it was spent in classroom work.  We learned about most of the human body (except the parts I was mostly interested in) and the muscle structure (again omitting the most important muscle of all).

The second week things began to look up when I found that we were going to practice techniques on each other.  Somehow, I got screwed and was assigned to Mrs. Mueller.

She wasn't all that bad, but not what I would call sexy.  She was blond, in her mid to late 30s, married and had 3 kids, one almost as old as me.  Mrs. Mueller was big, just under six feet tall and was at least 180 pounds of solid muscle with a slight Nordic accent.  

Each two-person team was assigned a small private room, equipped with only a massage table, a straight chair and a wash basin. 

The first session I had with her, she did me.  The only thing I was wearing was the tight, bikini style, bathing suit that was the standard uniform for the male students.  First, she did my back.  She ran her hands up my legs into my crotch so many times that by the time she turned me over, I had a world-class hard on, so big that it stuck out the top of my bathing suit.

I was embarrassed, but she just smiled and said, "Ach, look at dat, I haff done good job.  Thank you for der complement, now you do me, and see what you can do."

I was surprised when she undid her bathing suit top and took it off before lying down on the table.  Her breasts were like the rest of her, big and firm.  I tried to remember what they had taught us in class but the thought of those big bare breasts just a few inches away from my hands, coupled with my almost painful erection, made it difficult to think of anything except this large sexual object.  I did her back and then her sides, as close to those bulging breasts as I could get.  

I moved to her legs and was rewarded with a little satisfied sigh and a slight spreading of her thighs.  Each stroke on her legs brought a little further opening.  I copied on her what she had done to me by running my hands up into her crotch as far as I dared and soon noticed a damp stain had appeared in her suit.  I took the bull by the horns, so to speak, and pushed my fingers deep into her crotch, hard against the spot.  It was no longer damp, it was stopping wet.  She gave a little moan, and opened her legs wider.  

I stood there for a few seconds, wiggling my fingers against her pussy through the cloth until she quickly turned over and ran her hand down the front of my suit.  She grabbed my, rock hard, cock with one hand and pulled down the bottom of her suit with the other.

"You haff done good," she said as she grabbed my head with her free hand and pulled my face into those wondrous breasts.  I was sucking on a very firm nipple when she pushed me away and said, "Now, finish by showing me what else you know how to do, and hurry, class is almost over."

I showed her every trick in my 19 year old repertoire, including some things that I made up as I went along.  From the groans and moans, I think I passed my first test. I know that Mrs. Mueller suddenly became my favorite teacher.

We were getting dressed when the bell rang.  She grabbed the crotch of my bathing suit, and with a firm grip on my still hard penis said, "You are very good and have learned much, but I will teach you more.  Plan to stay after class tomorrow and we will practice oral exercises."

The oral exercises were beyond my wildest dreams.  We started the same way we had yesterday, but when she turned me over, she immediately pulled my bathing suit bottom down around my ankles and swallowed my cock.  This was all new to me; I had never had a blow job before.  

I looked down and could see the top of her blond head and my cock disappearing in and out of her lips.  I was awash in a sea of sensations, for all intents and purposes, lost in the feelings that were being transmitted into my mind from my cock.  It only took about two minutes for me to shoot a tremendous load of my sperm into her mouth.  She looked up at me, smiled, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, and said, "Ya, you taste good too."

She pushed the table against the wall, took off both pieces of her bathing suit and said, "Now, I show you what to do."

She sat on the table with her back against the wall and her feet on the edge.  Her legs were bent at the knees and spread wide with her pussy completely exposed.  She had me bring the chair over, place it in front of her and sit down.  My face was on the same plane and directly in line with her pussy.  I could see it seeping moisture through the forest of reddish-blond pubic hair.

I was at a loss.  I had often heard the other guys talking about eating pussy but I had never tried it myself.  She said, "Not to worry, I will tell you what to do and what is good.  Now, put your tongue into me there and you will find a little hard knot.  Ah, yes, that is it.  Ouch, don't bite, just lick and stuck."

Step by step, she led me through the maze of female sexual preferences until I must have gotten it just right and she had an orgasm.  I was surprised that I enjoyed the taste and enjoyed doing it to her.  At 19 the only thing better than getting a blow job and eating pussy is fucking, so we finished off the session by having her lean over the chair while I stuck my dick into her pussy from behind.

I stayed after class every night after that.  I learned very little about massage therapy but I learned a lot about sex and the female anatomy. By the end of the week I had gained immeasurable confidence but lost almost six pounds.  For the first time since I could remember, my hormones were somewhat in check.

It was well after class on Friday and we were in one of the private treatment rooms.  She was nude, bending over the chair and I was standing behind her, my cock lodged deep in her pussy, pumping away.  My eyes were closed and my hands were holding her hips, pushing and pulling her back and forth.  I was completely oblivious to her guttural moans and groans.  She was cuming, or at least moaning so loud it was almost a shriek and I was on the verge of shooting my load into her.  I could feel the familiar tingle that precedes climax when the door opened and there stood Mrs. Toope, the old prune that ran the school.

Both of us were too far gone to stop.  I grinned at Mrs. Toope, but never missed a stroke.  She slammed the door just as I unloaded into the soft, warm receptacle of Gretchen Mueller's pussy.  Gretchen was in the throes of such an orgasm that I'm not sure she even knew we had been discovered.

Saturday afternoon there was a message on my moms answering machine that I had been dropped from the school and my tuition (which I he had only paid half) would be refunded.

I later found out that Gretchen had gotten a divorce, moved to Tampa and opened a massage academy that only took male students.  She does all interviews herself.  I understand she charges more than double the tuition of the other schools but there is a two-year waiting list for enrollment.  

As for me, I attended a junior college before I joined the Navy.  But that's another story.  

30

Copyright © 01-05-2001 by E. J. Sheeran. All rights reserved. This work, in part, or whole, is not to be distributed, reproduced, transmitted or posted, in any manner, without the express written permission of the author.

For comments on this story contact me.



Gretchen’s Sugar Daddy



The kindest words to describe Gretchen were as the office slut. Most women called her a whore, or worse, and Gretchen loved it. She couldn't remember when she lost her virginity, but she sure did remember how powerful she felt as her French teacher moaned and groaned, sliding in and out of her tight cunt, squeezing her tits and telling her how he loved her. Gretchen got an A in French and was allowed to go on the exchange trip to France that summer. Her French wasn't very good, but she soon picked up a lot of useful vocabulary, fucking her way through Paris.

Much to her parents' dismay, she didn't want to continue her studies after high school. Her parents were surprised. She was a straight A student without putting in a lot of effort. Little did they know the effort she'd put in, sucking her teachers' cocks, being fucked in small offices and dingy motel rooms after class. She was sure that she could earn a good degree with her sexual favours, but she wasn't interested. Gretchen didn't intend to spend her life working for a living. She was young and beautiful and very horny. She figured that she'd be able to use her body to earn the lifestyle she wanted.

As soon as she was out of school she enrolled in a secretarial course where she picked up computer skills. She actually passed that course on her own merit. Not because the teacher was female and immune to Gretchen's charm. The teacher was rather partial to Gretchen's tongue. But Gretchen had decided that the only way to get what she wanted was to have the skills she needed to make herself invaluable to prospective employers. There were plenty of girls out there who were dying to fuck their boss, Gretchen wanted the senior managers and directors, and you only became their secretary if you were good.

During her first week on the job she fucked the copy room guy on the photocopier, the mailroom guy on a pile of outgoing mail, the security guard in front of his wall of TV-screens (one of which showed the two of them, she made sure he gave her the tape) and the janitor in the basement. By Friday she was feeling a little bit sore so she lured the HR manager's assistant and the payroll clerk to an empty conference room for some afternoon lesbian fun. She was only a week into her job and already she knew all the key people for finding out the useful gossip for an ambitious young secretary.

She spent her initial stint at work in the secretarial pool, working for various people in the business. After a month and a half, one of the sales managers asked her to work overtime as he had scheduled a video conference with his worldwide sales reps. She soon got bored with the video conference and started flirting with the manager. He ogled her appreciatively and it wasn't long before she crawled under the desk and unzipped his trousers and started to suck him off. It didn't take him long to wrap up the meeting and soon they were fucking each other's brains out on the floor.

Gretchen was his personal secretary for 6 months after that, travelling with him wherever he went, always sharing his hotel room and joining the mile high club in first class on a transatlantic flight. She eventually got bored with him and arranged to "bump into" a marketing manager late one evening. He liked it rough and took her from behind against the windows of his 23rd floor office. She was his personal secretary for 3 months, during which she spent meetings with his hand between her thighs (under orders not to wear any underwear) and being tied up and spanked for his sexual gratification. She didn't dislike the kinky sex with him, but she soon decided that it wasn't going to take her anywhere.

One Saturday the HR manager was catching up on some paperwork when the photocopier broke down and Gretchen just happened to be passing through the office at the same time to pick up some things that she'd forgotten the previous night. By Monday morning she was reassigned to the HR office and she spent a long couple of months being the lover of the HR manager and her husband. 

Being on such friendly terms with the HR manager gave Gretchen the opportunity to practise her secretarial skills on a director level, but she took it one step too far. The HR manager warned her. The security guard and janitor warned her. The copy room and mailroom guys warned her. The HR assistant and the payroll clerk warned her. But Gretchen was high on sexual power. She wasn't yet 20 years old and she'd already fucked 25 men and a dozen women. She'd accumulated a sports car, an apartment, a designer wardrobe and some very fine jewellery. How could she possibly fail? She got herself assigned to the managing director and, quite predictably, he fell for her charm. She got a beautiful diamond necklace, a trip to the Caribbean and a luxurious condo. 

On her 20th birthday her world fell apart. Her current lover was going to take her out for a romantic meal and then they were going to go back to her condo where she would get her birthday present and then they'd make love all night. It didn't quite go to plan. She went home to get changed and when she came back to work her boss was sitting behind his desk, pearls of perspiration on his forehead and a tense look on his face. She looked to the armchairs in the conference corner and there were his wife and her father, the owner of the company. Gretchen was told in no uncertain terms that she had 5 minutes to gather her things and make herself scarce. 

She started applying for other jobs, but it seemed that news of a secretary's affair with the managing director at her old company had leaked out, and most people assumed that she was the secretary in question since she'd quit her old job before getting a new one. Money soon became a problem. She hadn't had to worry about building maintenance and land rent, or any of the costs of owning a German sports car before. Everything had always been paid for by her lovers and she hadn't bothered to save much of her pay. She contacted a few escort services and soon became very popular, but it didn't quite build the lasting, profitable, relationships that she was used to. She knew that she needed a sugar daddy, but wasn't quite sure of how to get one.

The answer to her dilemma was rather unexpected. She was escorting a visiting businessman to a strip club one evening and there was a man who was obviously a big deal to all the girls who worked there. As soon as he came in they all rushed to his side and he chose two girls to sit with him and left the others to his friends. When he turned around to sit down Gretchen nearly fainted as she recognised her own dad. She cornered one of the waitresses in the club and asked if she knew her dad. The waitress knew him as Don and he was a partner in the club. According to the waitress he liked to "road test" the strippers and escorts before they were let loose in the club and he was said to keep a luxurious apartment where his favourite girls lived.

Gretchen couldn't believe her ears. Her father was a salesman for a big paper company. He and her mother lived a reasonably comfortable, yet fairly modest, existence in the suburbs with Gretchen's three younger siblings. There had never been any sign of the kind of money this club seemed to be raking in. She decided it was time to do some more detective work. She spent the night with the client she'd escorted that evening and was awarded with a generous tip after a fuck marathon that resulted in very little sleep for either one of them. 

She then spent a week fucking various people to get hold of as much paperwork about her dad as she could. It turned out that he did indeed work for the paper company, but he also owned a company, whose only asset seemed to be 100% of the shares in another company that never paid out dividends. The other company on the other hand co-owned several strip clubs, an apartment downtown, a house in the Caribbean and a couple of luxury cars. Gretchen discovered that her dad paid someone to do the paper selling for him, while he spent those 3 days every week when he was supposed to be travelling to clients in his apartment, managing his strip clubs. He had everything that Gretchen aspired towards and now she knew exactly how to get it.

The next weekend she decided to make one of her rare appearances at home. Her parents didn't know that she'd been fired from her old job and she wasn't intending to tell them as they'd want explanations.

"Hey dad," she said during dinner. "What weird and wonderful places are you visiting this week?"

"Oh, I'm on the road as usual, driving from one industrial estate to the next, nothing exciting, I'm afraid," he lied as Gretchen's mother smiled the smile of a devoted wife who thought her husband was working so hard for her.

"Mind if I come with you?" Gretchen smiled innocently. "You see, I think it's time for me to spread my wings and maybe if I come with you I can find another place to work."

Her dad nearly choked on his food. Gretchen had never exactly been interested in his work and it had been years since she last volunteered to spend any amount of time in his company.

"What do you say, daddy?" she smiled. "It'll be fun. You and me on a road trip."

Her mother smiled expectantly at her husband. She was most likely thinking that finally their oldest daughter seemed to want to be part of the family unit again so they should make the most of it. Her dad cleared his throat.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Gretchen," he started. "But I can't take anyone along with me this week. I have to bring some rather large samples to a customer so I need to take the van, and one of the junior salesmen is going to be shadowing me for the next few weeks so there are no seats left in the van."

"That's a shame," Gretchen said and acted quite disappointed. "Maybe another time."

The following Tuesday Gretchen went to the strip club alone. Her dad was at his VIP table with a girl on either side. He was kissing one of them as Gretchen slid in next to them. The two girls were about to protest when Gretchen handed them some cash.

"Drinks are on me, girls," she said, "I need to have a private conversation with Don."

The two girls looked at Gretchen's dad and he just about managed to nod. When they'd left, Gretchen slid up right next to her dad and put her hand on his thigh.

"Hi daddy," she smiled. "Surprised to see me?"

"How did you find out about me and this place?" he asked.

"Well, I forgot to tell you that I was fired from my secretary job," she said casually. "Apparently the owner didn't approve of his son fucking the secretary. So a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. I needed money and I escorted this guy here one evening and there you were, king of the castle. It took a couple of days, but I managed to piece everything together. So, which one of those girls is the current resident in the apartment that my mother doesn't know about?"

"What do you want Gretchen?" he said through gritted teeth.

"I want it all, daddy," she smiled. "Oh, you can keep your apartment, my condo suits me much better, but I want to be an equal partner in all of this."

"And what if I don't agree?"

"Then I think it might just be possible for my mother, our pastor and all your family and friends to stumble upon this place one evening. You'd lose everything, including the three dweebs that are my siblings. Have a think about it. I'll swing by your apartment at noon tomorrow. Make sure your whore's gone for the day. We have a lot of talking to do."

Gretchen got up and walked away. She'd done it, and daddy hadn't called her bluff. The next morning she dressed with care. She'd had a full body wax the previous day and she squeezed her D-cup tits into a push-up bra. She put on a garter belt and lace topped stockings, but didn't bother with any other underwear. Finally she squeezed herself into a skin tight black dress that didn't leave anything to the imagination. She stepped into a pair of high heeled shoes that added a lot of grace to her 5'7" frame. She let her long blonde locks hang free and she only had a minimum of makeup to accentuate her blue eyes. It was showtime.

She arrived at 12 on the dot and her dad opened the door, dressed in a white shirt and slacks.

"You look like a whore," he greeted Gretchen.

"Well, you're the expert," she smiled. "I take it you've sent yours out."

"Mindy's gone for the day."

"So, how do I look?"

"I told you, like a slutty whore. Not that I mind the look, you just don't expect to see your daughter dressed up like that."

"There's a lot about your daughter that you don't know."

"I don't doubt it."

"Don't you want to know?"

"Know what?"

"What it'd be like to fuck your little girl."

"What?"

"You heard me, daddy. You have a thing for whores, why don't you try me? I've been told that I'm very good."

"You're insane, Gretchen."

"Am I, daddy? I can see it in your eyes that you want to know what I look like underneath this dress. I'll show you."

In the blink of an eye she'd shed her dress and stood in front of him wearing only her bra, garter belt and stockings.

"Gretchen, you know what kind of man I am. You don't want to take this any further."

Gretchen bent over to give her dad a close view of her ass and her wet hole.

"Gretchen..."

She reached back and parted her pussy lips. It was an invitation to fuck her. 

"Oh fuck it!" her dad exclaimed and got on his feet. He opened his fly in no time and pulled out his erect 8 inches. He grabbed Gretchen's hips and impaled her on his shaft. They both cried out with pleasure as they united in the most intimate way a man and woman can meet.

"Oh yeah, daddy," Gretchen moaned. "Fuck me hard. Fuck your little girl."

"You little cock tease," he grumbled as he pumped in and out of her well lubricated cunt. "Let me feel those tits."

He snapped off her bra and reached around to grab Gretchen's firm melons. He pulled her up against his chest by her nipples and he started kissing her neck, biting her as he fucked her.

"You like this, my little whore?" he said against her skin. "You like being fucked by daddy's big cock? You like being daddy's little cum slut?"

"Oh yeah, daddy," she moaned. "Fuck me harder."

His trousers were in a pile on the floor, she was naked apart from her stockings, they were united as one in the middle of the room as he fucked her as hard as he could from behind.

"I'm cumming," Gretchen moaned. "I'm fucking cumming!"

"Cum, baby," her dad told her. "Cum for daddy!"

She cried out as her cunt gripped her daddy's cock hard and she nearly collapsed with pleasure, but daddy didn't stop fucking her. He kept slamming inside her as her cunt squeezed him hard and he moaned with pleasure. When Gretchen's body finally stopped shaking he pulled out and pulled his clothes off. He lay down on the floor.

"Ride me, slut," he commanded. "Ride your daddy like a whore!"

Gretchen wasn't one to hesitate. Her dripping cunt soon engulfed daddy's cock once more and she set off at a ferocious pace. She loved riding big cocks and daddy's shaft felt especially good in her hungry cunt. Her tits bounced as she slammed against daddy's hips. He reached up and started kneading them.

"Oh yeah, baby," he panted. "I never realised my own daughter was such a fucking whore. Let me feel those tits."

He pulled and pinched her tits as she rode him harder. Neither one of them could speak any more. They were both panting hard as their incestuous fuck got faster and faster. Finally Gretchen grinded her clit against her daddy and cried out as she had her second orgasm from her daddy's cock. This time he couldn't resist the quivering cunt around his shaft and he grunted out loud as he started shooting his cum right into his daughter's womb. Gretchen collapsed on top of daddy and they lay like that for a few minutes, daddy's cock in Gretchen's cunt, catching their breath.

"Gretchen," daddy said and kissed her deeply with his tongue down her throat. "My little cum bucket."

"Yes, daddy," she said with her innocent little girl voice that had earned her several tips in the escort game.

"Straddle daddy's face and let me eat your delicious cunt."

Gretchen quickly slid off his cock and straddled his face. She could feel daddy's cum gushing out of her cunt and into his mouth, along with a generous dose of her own juices. Daddy just lapped it all up, licking his little girl's snatch like a starving man. Gretchen moved her hips as though she was riding his cock, but the only thing entering her cunt now was his wonderful tongue. His hands grabbed her thighs as he tried to hold her still. He kept lapping up her sweet juices and sucking her little pleasure nub. Then she came and she squirted all over daddy's face. He cleaned her up with his tongue and then made her get off his face. They embraced and kissed.

"My, my, Gretchen," daddy mused as he played with her nipple. "I raised myself a wonderful fuck toy."

"Yes, you did, daddy," Gretchen replied and returned the compliment. "I wanted to fuck you, but I never knew you'd be so good."

"So, where do we go from here?"

"I want us to fuck some more, daddy. This was too good to not happen again."

"I agree, baby. So, do you want to be daddy's special whore?"

"I might. What do you have in mind?"

"I share my business with you, as you requested. In return, you spread your legs for me whenever your mother thinks I'm out of town. That means sleeping here in my bed three or four nights a week. That part is non-negotiable. I don't sleep alone, I want a cunt there if I wake up horny. In fact, you will be at my beck and call both day and night. I will not put up with having to wait for a cunt. I also won't put up with you questioning what I say. You will be happy to receive my cock, whether it's in your mouth or your cunt or anywhere else I want to put it."

"And what about your other whores?"

"My other whores will be busy making money for us, and they'll also be available for me to fuck if you question me or try to play power games by withholding your cunt. And if I decide that I want a threesome or a foursome I'll get them to join us."

"And what if I want some pussy?"

"If you want some pussy and your cunt isn't busy pleasuring your daddy's cock then you can do whatever you want with the whores. So, do we have a deal?"

"You bet, daddy."

Gretchen hugged her father and soon they were kissing violently. Before she knew it she was pinned to the floor under her daddy's body and his knee was parting her legs. She wrapped her legs around daddy's waist as he slid effortlessly back into her cunt. 

"I hope you're on the pill, baby," daddy panted as he started pumping his daughter's cunt again. "Because I will not wear rubber to fuck my own daughter!"

"Oh yes, daddy," Gretchen panted as her hips met yet another one of daddy's thrusts. "I've been on the pill since I started fucking my teachers in high school."

"You little slut! I knew you couldn't be making those grades without studying."

Daddy seemed happy with the revelation that his daughter had been the school whore and he increased the pace of his fucking. His hips were moving at a furious speed when they both heard someone clear their throat. They looked towards the door and daddy's secretary was standing there.

"Not now, Fred," daddy panted angrily, without breaking his pace. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

He leaned forward to kiss Gretchen as he listened to the message that Fred was giving him. Neither of them noticed if Fred left because they were both close to cumming. Daddy made a final deep thrust and grinded himself against Gretchen's clit. She came with a shriek and for the second time that afternoon her cunt milked daddy's cock dry as his cum raced up inside her. After a quick kiss to catch his breath, daddy pulled his cock out of Gretchen and kneeled by her mouth.




Gretchen’s Sugar Daddy



"Clean my cock like a good little whore," he commanded her. "I have work to do. You shower and wait here for me to come back to fuck you some more."

Gretchen smiled and relaxed on the floor as daddy went away. She finally had her sugar daddy and this one wasn't going to dump her. She was her daddy's fuck toy, his cum bucket, and she loved it.



Gretchen



I was so aroused by her reaction, I almost came just from her soft breath on my balls as she came down from her high. We both regained our composure and rested for a minute as we gasped for breath.

"You have got an amazing tongue." she told me.

"Thanks!" I replied as I rolled her off of me and did a swim turn to position myself on top of her. I got between her thighs and she spread her legs to allow me to mash my now painful erection against those amazing pussy lips. I leaned down and kissed her as I slid my cock back and forth in the wet cleft between them.

She had had enough foreplay, I guess, because she reached down and positioned my cock at the opening of her vagina. As I looked into her bright hazel eyes, I pressed forward and my cock tunnelled into her grasping sex. 

It was a wonderful combination of tight and slippery, and I was able to continue to push forward slowly until I was buried completely in the warm embrace of her honeypot. Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a cute little "O" as I began sliding in and out in smooth, long strokes.

She grasped my ass cheeks and wrapped her legs around me. I knew I wasn't going to last long, what with all the teasing she had done to me for the past hour. I tried to think of other things while I was pumping her, but she wasn't having that. She put a her hands on the sides of my face and forced me to look at her as she stared back at me intently. Then she pulled my face to hers and stuck her tongue as far as she could into my mouth while urging me to fuck her faster with her heels crossed behind my butt.

I gave up and began hammering her with long, hard thrusts. My balls were slapping against her ass, and I was the one gasping and moaning now. She whimpered and crushed me in a bear hug, signalling her orgasm and I came at the same time, jerking and moaning as I filled her with my cum.

I rolled off of her to one side and hooked my elbow behind her head to pull her body into mine. She threw her leg over my groin, and pressed against me, nestling her face on my shoulder with her lips against my neck.

"Thanks for the massage." she whispered.

"I suggest another session tomorrow morning, for maximum relaxation."

She laughed and played with my nipple, "I bet you do, including the 'internal massage' you just gave me!"

I looked into her eyes and asked, "What brought that on, anyway? You had me convinced that I had to behave. I'm not complaining, mind you."

"My husband, Steve has been trying to convince me to have sex with someone else. He actually suggested it months ago and we began discussing it. At first I was upset, I figured he just wanted an open marriage, and that meant he was getting tired of me, but we talked about it a lot and I came to realize that the idea of another man with me was what really turned him on. We started sharing fantasy stories about it during sex, and I came around to his way of thinking."

That explained the hickey she asked for. I traced the outline with my finger, "So this is proof for him that you did it?"

"Yeah. He just wants me tell him the details afterward, but I thought the mark might enhance his pleasure while I describe the experience to him."

I was curious, "How are you going to describe it to him?"

She grinned and began, "I was having a drink with my friends from work, and one of the older guys that I work with began massaging my shoulders..."

"Older, huh?" I interjected.

"Older but very handsome with a great body," she reached down and grasped my penis, "and a really nice, thick cock!" she said as she began to squeeze and stroke me. 

"I know he has a thing for me, because every time I look at him I catch him looking at me with this intense stare. What are you thinking about when you look at me like that?"

"I fantasize about what we just did, but I have to tell you that my imagination has never painted a picture as amazing as what just happened. I thought I was seducing you, but it turns out you were playing me." I replied.

"I think I picked you because you are 'safe'," she explained. "I am attracted to you anyway, and since you are 'older' (here she inserted air quotes) and married, I don't have to worry about you causing problems after."

"Ah," I said, "problems like a romantic connection that you might have for a younger guy."

"Right, but not because of what you are thinking. I could fall for an older guy as easily as a younger one, I think. In fact, I dated a guy in college who was almost 20 years older than me. What I meant is that we are already friends, and comfortable with each other. I can't imagine doing this with a complete stranger, or a young single guy I am already friends with who might start to fall for me. I think maturity makes you safe in that sense." 

"If you think my age automatically prevents me from going gaga over you, you may be mistaken." I joked. "But I see what you are saying. So what else will you tell the hubby?"

"Well, he will want specifics. He likes to ask me about my former lovers, and he always wants me to tell him the physical parts in graphic detail. I will tell him that you made me wet when you put your hands on me in the bar earlier. I'll mention that when you texted me, I was in my room laying on the bed in my underwear and rubbing myself off thinking about you."

I was amazed at this revelation.

She continued,"When you called, I jumped up and put my clothes and shoes back on to answer the door. I will tell him that you have a great tongue; I may have you give him some lessons on that subject! And of course, your cock is thicker than his, but not as long. It feels different when you stroke me, and creates more pressure on my clit in the missionary position."

Now normally I am a one and done guy. It had been a few years since I was motivated to try a double header. But between the Viagra, Gretchen's amazing body, and her hot talk, I started to rally. I leaned into her and kissed her, and she reached for my cock and started gently stroking it. I began to rub her soggy pussy with my hand.

"Would you do me a favor and go down on me again?" she asked.

I smiled in response and trailed kisses down Gretchen's body towards her sex. I had always wanted to do this with my wife, but she was not into it and questioned why I tried it the first time I went down on her after coming in her pussy. 

My first lick was a wonderful mix of her sweet juice and my salty essence. I pushed her legs back and licked her clean from her anus to her clit, repeating the technique with my tongue that I used on her earlier. She reached orgasm even faster than the first time and smashed my face into her crotch with her hands on the back of my head, then pulled me upward by the ears and shoved her tongue in my mouth. 

It was obvious that having a guy eat his creampie out of her was one of Gretchen's triggers. She held my face in her hands as she sucked at my tongue and lips, and kissed my face.

"I have another request." She said. "Are you into anal at all?"

I smiled, and she continued, "It felt amazing when you stuck your tongue in my ass! How would you like to try it with that hard cock? 

I rolled her over onto her hands and knees, and she handed me the complementary bottle of body lotion provided by the hotel. "I didn't bring any lube so you will have to use this. I did clean myself out with a plastic water bottle while I was in the bathroom, though."

I squirted lotion between her ass cheeks, and worked it into her butthole with one then two fingers. She was very tight at first, but her sphincter began to loosen up as I slowly worked my fingers in and out. 

She was looking back at me with her head resting on one forearm on the bead. She smiled and closed her eyes. "Mmmm, that feels so good."

The sight of this beautiful girl offering her ass to me, with her eyes closed and a smile on her face was all I needed to make me ready. I coated my cock with lotion and positioned the head at her anus. 

She reached back with both hands and pulled her ass cheeks apart. Her rosebud opened slightly, and I pushed forward. My cock slid in about two inches, then hit her inner resistance. I waited, using gentle pressure, until she opened completely and I was able to push the rest of the way in.

"Oh God, yessss." she groaned. I moved slowly out, then back in. The pressure and heat of her bowel was amazing and I felt myself on the edge of orgasm again, so I held still for a moment. Once I regained control, I began long, slow strokes. 

She grabbed the bedspread with both hands and bunched it into her fists. Her moaning became a prolonged wail and she started thrusting her hips back into me rapidly, impaling herself on my erection. I used my hands on her hips to direct her thrusting and keep her from pulling completely off of my cock. This lasted several minutes, thanks to my earlier orgasm, but the intensity of the sensations began to take their toll.

"Your ass is amazing, I am going to cum." I gasped. She reached between her thighs and grabbed my swinging balls, squeezing them gently as if to milk me dry. That sent me over the edge, and my orgasm ignited hers. I felt her ass contract several times, and sensed her other hand on her pussy, rubbing her clit. Her back arched three times in synchronization with her rectal contractions, as I spurted into her and then collapsed forward onto her back. 

We both fell to the bed, with me laying on her back. I kissed her exposed neck and ear, and she reached up and caressed the side of my face.

"I really enjoyed that." she said. 

"Me too," I managed to wheeze out as I gasped for breath. 

She giggled, "It sounds like it. Am I going to have to call a paramedic?"

"That or a coroner," I responded, "I should know which in a minute."

With that we both broke into fits of giggles, and I rolled onto my side with my arms around her, pulling her against me and spooning her from behind.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" she asked. "You will have to leave early tomorrow morning, though, so no one else from the team sees you, okay?"

I understood what she was saying. This was just between us, and she wanted to keep it that way. I was fine with that, and looked forward to sharing her bed for the rest of the night. 

"That sounds great. Let's get a wake-up call for 5 a.m." I suggested. She called the front desk and then turned out the light, and we settled back into the pillows with my arms around her and drifted off to sleep.



Gretchen's Garden



It was a beautiful spring day, sunny and warm with just a slight breeze - the first nice weather in at least a week, and just what I needed to finish the job. We were scheduled to hold the grand unveiling in just a few days - on Earth Day. The garden was nearly ready, and I felt a combination of pride and relief. And sweat. As I rushed to plant the last of the seeds and sprouts before he arrived, I thought back over the immense amount of work I'd put in over the past few months.

I was a senior at the college, and that semester had volunteered to lead a group of my fellow students in putting together a community garden on some vacant land owned by the campus. The goal was to set it up for composting and organic growing, and once it was up and running, to be able to provide produce to a local food bank. My job would be to coordinate what was sure to be a large number of volunteers, work to get some local businesses to contribute money and supplies to the effort, and try to get press out to the community. My professor assured me that it'd be a great experience, but I hardly needed his input to jump at the opportunity.

Truth was, I missed this kind of hands-on work. I had grown up on a farm, and although I appreciated that going away to school had opened up lots of new doors for my future, I still sometimes missed the simple pleasure that could come from working the land. So, you can imagine my pleasure when I was able to convert a former vacant lot, overgrown with weeds and the occasional abandoned car, into a vegetable garden that would provide healthy food for needy families.

And even those days when I spent more time at a computer or on my cell phone than digging in the dirt were a great learning experience for me. I'd made some great connections with local business owners, who donated the lumber for the planting beds, snacks for volunteers, and coffee grounds for the compost. It was John - whose cafe's coffee grounds were feeding our rich soil - that I was supposed to meet today. We hadn't met in person yet, and he had called yesterday to say that he wanted to stop by to introduce himself and see the results of the project.

**********

I arrived early, parked down the block from the garden, and watched her work. Truth be told, I'd been watching her off and on for the past week, after one of my assistants returned from a visit to the garden with a report that she was a hottie. I wasn't sure that she was really my type - a bit of a 'granola', you might say - but there was something about her that fascinated me.

Everything about her seemed to be natural. She was obviously a true blonde, her long hair cascading freely down her back. She looked strong, I thought to myself as I watched her scoop dirt from a wheelbarrow into a raised bed, as if from work rather than from a gym membership. And her breasts - well, it was hard not to watch as her ample bosom bounced while she walked. A lot of women have paid good money for a rack that big, but given the rest of her persona, they had to be real.

Snap out of it, I told myself as I shifted my weight in the driver's seat, my cock beginning to grow uncomfortably. What kind of girl wears a long hemp skirt and sandals to work in the garden? She probably doesn't even shave her legs. I chuckled to myself, realizing how much she'd gotten under my skin, and climbed out of the car. Time we finally met.

**********

Wiping the sweat from my brow, I rested the shovel against the fence and admired my work. After a few moments, I sensed movement out of the corner of my eye, and turned to see a man walking towards me. That must be him - tall, confident walk, nice suit. I'd have to wait until he got closer to see if he was also dark and handsome. 

He was definitely the square businessman type, although I'd been impressed in our conversations over the phone how aware he seemed to be about environmental issues. He'd been quite excited at the prospect of having a local site to donate his coffee grounds for composting, because his cafe didn't have room to compost on site, but he hated just to throw everything away. And he'd made a point of bragging to me about how he got his milk from a local dairy.

Dark and handsome indeed, I quickly realized. I tried to look cool as I watched him approach, but he quickly won me over with a generous smile, and I dropped the facade. Better to be myself anyway.

"You must be Gretchen," he said, as I looked up into his big dark eyes. 

"That's me! Nice to finally meet you, John. Let me show you around." Funny how I always build an image of someone from their voice. I'm usually wrong, but in this case, I'd been right on, even down to his age, which I guessed was around 40.

I walked from one raised bed to another, pointing out the different vegetables we'd planted, explaining why we'd chosen seeds in some cases and starts in others, and mentioning again the big celebration coming up for Earth Day.

"It's part of a whole series of events the campus has going for Earth Week - lectures about global warming, a recycling demonstration - but this opening is the only one that really brings the community and the campus together. I'm pretty excited, as you can probably tell since I'm talking too fast!"

"Hey, that's OK, I think it's great what you've done here. You have every right to be proud. I'm just happy to help."

**********

It wasn't true, though. I wasn't just happy to help. I was trying to figure out a way inside her pants. Or in this case, a way up her long skirt. As we walked and talked, I was finding her to be not just fascinating, but irresistible. Up close, it was very clear indeed that her breasts were real. And that she was working braless. Her tits were both large and perky, even without support. And even though I'd normally find hippie, tree-hugger clothes to be a turn-off, her confidence while wearing them definitely won me over.

But it was painfully clear that she was both out of my league and uninterested. Don't get me wrong, she was friendly enough. But it was obvious that her focus was the garden, and that while she was happy to show me around and thank me for my contribution, she'd be just as happy when I left and she could get back to work.

So, after a few more minutes of chatting, it was time to make my departure, and head back to work.

"Well, thanks so much for showing me around, Gretchen. Please remember, you're welcome at the cafe anytime. Your coffee will always be on the house."

"Thanks, John, I'll remember that!"

We shook hands once more, and that was it. I walked back towards my car, hoping she would at least stop by the cafe sometime when I was there.

**********

I was both disappointed and relieved when he left. I could feel the way he was looking at me, and although I normally hated men to ogle me, in this case I found it strangely erotic. Part of me had hoped that he would make a proposition of some kind, but I knew it wasn't likely - he was a professional, after all.

I picked up the shovel again and walked towards the shed where we kept the tools. It was a simple building, put up by the volunteers, but gave a bit of shelter and security so that we could lock up tools and supplies on site. I opened the door, walked in, set down the shovel, and then let the door close while I was still inside, hoping to gather my thoughts in a little privacy before walking back outside.

He had obviously been entranced by my breasts, I thought, and my hands instinctively moved up my body. With a breast in each hand, I gave them a squeeze, flicking my already-hard nipples and giggling softly in pleasure. It was surprisingly satisfying to have such power over a man like John, a confident older professional. And how wet it had made me - one hand now slid under the waistband of my skirt to explore. Oh god, yes, dripping wet, and just from a conversation?

I hesitated for a moment, telling myself that I was, after all, outside, in public, but that thought only served to turn me on even more. Alone in the shed, with sunlight streaming through the spaces between the rough-hewn lumber, I began fingering myself. Soon, I found my clothes too restrictive. I shot a quick glance to the outside, and seeing nobody nearby, quickly pulled off my blouse and stepped out of my skirt, leaving me naked save my panties and sandals.

Leaning against the wall and putting one leg up on a bale of hay, I pushed my panties aside and began furiously finger-fucking myself. It would be a quick orgasm, I was sure, with the image of John, his eyes moving lustily over my body, still fresh in my memory. I moaned softly as I came, moments later, the smell of my juices overwhelming that of the soil and compost from the garden.

**********

Just as I got back to my car, I realized I'd forgotten to give her the business cards from the cafe - the ones she'd agreed to have for people to pick up at the grand opening of the garden. It took me just a few moments to find them in the car and walk back down the block to the garden, so I was surprised not to see her there.

Soon, though, I heard noises coming from the shed, and realized she must be putting tools away. After a few more feet, it became clear she was doing much more. The thoughts rushed through my head - was it mutual, the lust I'd assumed was unrequited? Would she allow me to join her in relieving those sexual tensions?

Moving slowly and quietly now, and glancing over my shoulder more than once, I finally reached the door of the shed and creeped inside. Her eyes were closed as she fingered herself, so I knew she wouldn't see me. I was able to watch, undetected, as she brought herself to orgasm. It was delicious, watching her pleasure herself. My eyes landed first on her stunning breasts, every bit as perfect as I'd imagined them to be. It took me a few moments to look down, to follow the action of her hands on her clit and pussy, and to see that not only did she shave her legs, she shaved everywhere.

That pushed me over the edge, and I moved as quietly as I could to unzip my slacks and free my bulging cock from my boxers. I began stroking myself in time with her fingers as they plunged in and out of her pussy, her moans masking my own. As she came, I knew it was too late to back out now, and simply kept stroking myself as I waited for her to open her eyes and see me standing there.

**********

An odd sound brought me back from my heavenly pleasure, and I opened my eyes, feeling slightly guilty in my indulgence. My heart skipped a beat as I saw John towering above me, stroking his impressive cock as he watched me. I fought back a first impulse to reach for my clothes to cover my body. And I ignored my second thought, which was to say something. No, it would be better just to act.

I fell to my knees before him, and began kneading my own breasts as he continued stroking his cock above me. I pinched my nipples, squealing in delight as I did so, and then brought them up, one by one, to reach my outstretched tongue. After a few moments of this, his eyes fixed on mine in pure lust, he shoved his cock into my mouth in one long motion.

I wrapped one hand around his shaft, cupped his balls with the other, and began licking and sucking him enthusiastically. I could feel my juices beginning to flow once again as I pleasured him. He reached down and grabbed my tits, squeezing them hard as I moaned in delight. He let go of one breast just long enough to push my hand away from his shaft, forcing his entire length into my mouth and deep into my throat. As I struggled not to gag, he pushed into me with several long, forceful thrusts before finally letting me up for air.

He pulled me to my feet now, and after finallyl loosening his belt and letting his slacks fall to the ground, pulled me into a strong embrace, kissing me passionately, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth just as his cock had moments before. Then, in one smooth motion, he wrapped my arms around his neck, hoisted me up in the air, and positioned his cock to plunge deep into my pussy. I cried out as he filled me completely, wrapping my legs around his waist and settling into a bouncing motion.

Strong as he was, he held me in midair like this for a few minutes longer, fucking me even harder and faster, before finally lowering me to the ground once more. I whimpered as we lost contact, my pussy longing for his cock once more, but he quickly found a solution. Spinning me around so that I faced the wall of the shed, he spread my legs slightly and entered me from behind. I tried to turn to face him once more, but he had me pinned, taking my hands in his and pressing them against the wall above my head.

I gave up my struggle when I felt the satisfying depth of his cock in my pussy as he fucked me in this position. I left my hands where they were, above my head and against the wall, as he moved his own to cup my breasts. I flipped my long hair to one side of my neck as he began nibbling my earlobe, and this touch pushed me towards a powerful orgasm. He continued to fuck me hard from behind, kneading my big breasts as he did so, until I finally exploded. He held on firmly, leaving his cock buried deep in my pussy, as I bucked beneath him, the waves of pleasure so strong I couldn't have stayed on my feet without him.

I marvelled at his stamina, as I found him still hard as a rock and ready for more once I recovered from my orgasm. I knelt before him once more. Slowly, steadily, I took his entire shaft into my mouth, tasting my own juices as I let him begin pounding into my throat once more. After a few more strokes, I pulled away, and began stroking him furiously with both hands.

"Please, John, I want you to shoot your load all over my big beautiful tits."

"Oh, god yes, Gretchen, it's a dream come true."

He took his cock in his own hand and began stroking as I once again cradled my own breasts, holding them up for him, begging for him to cover them with his hot, sticky cum. It took only a moment longer, before he grunted with pleasure and covered me - not just my tits, but also my face - with spurt after spurt of cum.

We took our time getting cleaned up - I gave him that much more pleasure when I licked his cum off my own tits - before parting ways with a kiss, and leaving the small shed one at a time. It would be a few more days before the unveiling of our Earth Day garden. But at least for me, the earth had already moved.