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Freedom

By: CTrei



I watch. Standing by the shed, unnoticed in the darkness. I see everything. I watch as her car pulls into your drive. You both sit talking. 

I wait. You slowly get out of her car. Reaching into the backseat, you grab the bags of things she bought you. Just like I used to. You lean back in. Muffled words of thanks and goodbyes reach my ears.

You slowly walk to the house, a beautiful two-story house. The one we shared in. The one we played in. The one where I held you drying your tears. The one I know where your extra key was hidden. The key I copied months ago, before you started seeing her. Before I was put aside. 

She waits trained, as I was, until you open the door and with a half-wave dismiss her. Like you used to send me away after I had spent all my money on you. I can see the hungry frustrated look on her face as she backs out of your drive. Or maybe I just remember it on mine. I hear her engine complain as she accelerates too quickly, trying to escape you.

I watch as the kitchen light comes on. In my mind I see you, pleased with yourself. Making a cup of chai, just like you did each time you bled me dry. I can hear your six cats greeting you. Each begging for attention as you make your way to start your bath.

I wait as you choose your music. Wondering briefly what will greet me as I enter. Will it be the Irish tones of Flogging Molly? Meaning you got every little thing your heart desired. Evanescence means she demanded payment of some sort, kisses or even to taste you. Lincoln Park means she denied you something. How well I know you my little cunt. I know your every selfish whim. I watch and I wait.

I see the kitchen light go off. You are settling into your bath. Surrounded by the deceptively clean scent of sage and sandalwood. Your cats placing themselves at there guard positions. But they know me. They will let me enter. 

In the beginning of the end I tried to talk to you. Not wanting to be pushed aside. I tried to make you see. To reassure you I would get more money. Then, when I realized, I tried to talk to her. To explain what you were. Just like he tried to warn me. Like me, she didn’t listen. She told me to leave you alone. That I was wrong, jealous even, and no longer welcome. 

So I waited. I watched. I know what I need to do. I have to free her before you cause more damage. I have to protect the future from you.

Silently, I let myself in. I am greeted by the whiney voice of Amy Lee of Evanescence. I allow myself a second to gloat. Your guardians don’t make a sound. I pet each one as I make my way to you.

I walk quietly to the bathroom, knowing exactly what step to avoid. Not that you would hear it over your pouting. At the door I pause, knowing the room on the other side is deliciously steamy. In my mind I see you, naked in the antique claw-foot tub, bubbles cascading over full breasts. Breasts so sensitive to my touch. 

Shaking myself from the memory of your taste, I put on the gloves I bought. Carefully I open the door. Steam rushes past me, filling the hall. I enter quickly, pulling the door closed behind me. 

For a brief moment I stand there. I watch you. Your head back, eyes closed as the hot water caresses your smooth skin. You are lost in your own little world. 

I am disappointed that you didn’t notice me. I wanted you to know who it was. I warned you about taking Vicodin before your bath. I warned you. 

Your most loyal cat watches me from her perch as I approach you. She meows a soft greeting, you don’t stir. 

Standing over you, looking down. Your hair is spread behind you; its dark mahogany color was once golden honey for me. Soft long lashes caress your golden cheeks, skin so soft and tan. Hiding soft brown eyes, doe eyes. How I want those lids to open and to see the fear of recognition in those eyes that lied to me. 

A soft sleep sound brings my attention to your lips. Those dark cherry lips, I used to beg kisses from. Poison spewed from them, words that clouded my happiness. Nothing was good enough for you. There was no hope, no love, and no chance of survival. 

My gaze moves lower, down your smooth neck, just begging for nibbles. To where your chest moves slightly with each shallow slowed breath. The soft brown of your nipples gently peak from the cover of bubbles. 

Your arms rest on the edges of the tub, down to perfectly manicured nails, a perfect accent, sharp red nails. Nails I want to feel across my skin as you struggle against me. 

The bubbles hide your curves from my eyes. But I see you fully, every sensuous curve, the soft mound of downy hair that hides your taste from me. That glorious musk, the amazing taste of you, the soft skin that quivered at my caress.

I look to the end of the tub, perfectly painted toes just out of the water. 

So beautiful, so expensive and so high maintenance. It is a greater good I do as my hand moves to your head. 

I caress your face. Then slowly with gentle pressure slide you lower into the water. There is no resistance. 

Dumb bitch, I knew you had a problem with painkillers. Now here again you are ruining my fun (as usual). I wanted you to struggle, to fight me. I want you to know who was freeing the world of your taint. Instead you fell asleep in the tub, after taking too many pain pills. You can’t even die with dignity. I could just walk out of here. You would wake tomorrow in a cold bath, with a headache.

Lower into the water, my hand on your head, I watch. I watch for a long time after the bubbles are gone. The room cools around me. The water cools around you. 

Your cat smiles at me and walks to the door. Feeling freer than I have in a long time, I remove my hand from your head. Your body doesn’t move. Carefully I open the door. She sneaks past me and down the stairs. I leave the door slightly ajar. It wouldn’t be fair to lock any of the cats in, or out for that matter. They need closure also. 

The others greet me as I descend after her, pulling off my glove and putting them in my bag. Such lovely animals, their lives are worth more than yours. I stop to feed them before I exit. No need to punish the innocent. 

Then as silently as I came, I slip out. Out of this servitude forever. I am finally free. Free of you. 

Freedom



This is a true story describing my awakening to an unhappy marriage, finding love and sexual freedom in the arms of a man who was able to love me as I am.

Seventeen was TRULY too young to get married, but let's face it – at seventeen, no one was going to tell me how to run my life. I'd met William at the grocery store where I worked. He was 22, lived on his own and had a really fast car. I had a hot-head mother who loved to degrade me, a school where I was considered a nobody because my parents weren't rich and a dad I loved but was unable to see very much because of my dominating mother. I thought I fell in love with William but in reality was only looking for a way out of my own personal version of hell. On the positive side, his sexual appetite was wonderful and we were constantly screwing. I was young and the idea of getting plowed two times a day was amazing!

When he asked me to marry after two weeks, I accepted and we were married six weeks later. Mom was no problem, she was ready for me to go, but dad was not happy at all and told me I was making a huge mistake. He did walk me down the aisle though. In our church, you walk through a side entrance, through the back of the sanctuary and turn right in front of the big double doors before going to the alter. I should have taken it as a sign from God that this was a mistake when my friend Kristy opened the big door and almost hit my nose as I was about to make the turn. Luckily daddy caught the door with his hand before it got close. Nope, even that didn't stop me. We marched on and I moved into my new married life. That was August 22, 1987.

I had not returned to school that fall for my Senior year, despite having obtained a 1390 on my SATs, having a straight A average and being the class pet of all my teachers. I had to move to another county to start married life and just went to the local adult education center and obtained my GED. I kept my job, but was transferred to a store closer to home. I took a few classes at the local technical college, but had very little support from the hubby, so after taking them, I didn't go back. 

It didn't take things long to change. My loving husband, who had been up and anxious for sex at the drop of a hat prior to marriage suddenly cut back drastically. Once a week was a privilege after the first year. Lucky for me, we went on vacation with his mom and step-dad over the summer of our second anniversary and his frustration at being kept in a room for 7 days with them made him ready to go. We didn't even make it home, but had to stop on the side of the road on I-20, and there my oldest son was conceived after maybe 3 minutes of his thrusting and grunting. 

I was 19 years old, giving birth to my son and my moment of glory was ruined at the words of my loving spouse, "Damn, that was the grossest thing I've ever seen! It looked like chicken parts was falling out of you!" Just what I needed to hear. The doctor told me to wait six weeks before having intercourse. No problem, he wasn't interested anyway. It was a good six months before he wanted anything but blow jobs, stating that my breastfeeding was a real turn-off for him. 

I settled into a happy monotony of working, and taking care of my son. I had moved on to a job as a paralegal for a small town attorney. Sex was still present, but his idea of foreplay consisted of taking our clothes off, my blowing him and maybe getting to ride for a while if I'd been a good girl. More often I was treated to a nice warm gush of cum sliding down my throat, him yawning saying how great it was and falling asleep. 

These happy days lasted about six years and I changed jobs again, moving to a state agency, which allowed me a greater opportunity to meet people and I loved it. I became pregnant again, this time with twins. It was not an ideal pregnancy as I went into labor very early and had the babies at a little less than seven months. They were beautiful, but small and had to stay in the hospital for quite a while. I was proud and happy and imagining my perfect little life. William helped me come back to my senses once I got them home, reminding me that my tummy would probably never be flat again my D cup breasts were so bloated by milk that I looked like they could be used as flotation devices. 

I started crying constantly, and he finally took me to the doctor. I'd been treated for depression as a teenager and once early in our marriage, but this time the doctor called it post-partum depression and they put me on Zoloft. Then they added Xanax. I still cried, and all I wanted to do was sleep, so they changed me to Prozac. During the next few years, I tested more medication than I care to remember. In 2003, I discovered emails between my loving husband and a dear friend. She had a penchant for having married men on leashes. These idiots would pay her bills, buy her furniture, basically anything she wanted. I had attended a party at her house one night a few weeks before the discovery and drove some friends home. On returning to her house, I walked in to find my husband, her and her boyfriend laying in bed together. They were fully clothed but cuddled up, spooning. They assured me they were just messing with me. God, what an idiot I was. Even after all this, I took him back. I had taken vows to remain with him, and I put my pride away and let him come back. He slept on the couch and I in the bed.

During this time, I began talking to a few friends at work about what was going on. One friend in particular, Joan, thought I just needed to spice up our sex life. Spice up? I'd never really worried about my own needs, having come about twice within the last five years. I was more concerned about his. I had no problem deep throating him and could literally bury his cock in my mouth and lick his balls at the same time. I had even stuffed both balls in my mouth and kept them there, licking, sucking, anything he wanted. I loved anal, as he seemed to think this was the kinkiest thing in the world. I listened to Joan talk, though, and took in what she had to say. It seems that there was a whole world of sex-toys out there – vibrators, dildos, etc. Vibrators? I'd never had one. She just looked at me and smiled.

One day, my boss came back from Joan's office with a box wrapped in gift paper. He told me Joan had insisted that I open this as soon as I got home. Thank goodness she wrapped it well, because inside that box, complete with a battery was a 3 in long 1 inch round vibrator. I called her because there was NO WAY I was sticking something up my cooter other than my husband's penis. That was cheating, right? She just giggled and told me to try rubbing it on my clit. I did and came within 30 seconds. When I say I came, I mean I came, juice going everywhere, pussy pulsing, clit throbbing, moaning and gasping for breath. Never had I orgasmed that way before. Even deep inside my cunt, the electricity and pulsing was amazing. I immediately found my new favorite hobby.

That night I pretty much jumped on my husband and went down on him. I rolled over, batted my eyes and asked him if he'd go down on me. I was informed that MEN don't do that, and he guided my mouth back to his dick which erupted shortly thereafter. No problem, as soon as he left the bedroom I found my new best friend and buzzed right into happy land.

We rocked on in pretty much the same mode until March of 2004. By this point my weight had escalated to over 200 lbs., my depression was really bad and my vibrator wasn't even enough to get me off. I'd lost even that small happiness. I talked to my doctor and she put me on a new depression medication which would also help my anxiety attacks AND had no sexual side effects. I tried it. 

Within three weeks, I was able to have wonderful juicy climaxes again. After about six weeks, I began to see everything in a brand new light. Since when was I supposed to only give pleasure and not receive? Since when was he immune from helping in the house because he had a penis? Since when was it okay to push me into walls, choke me or slap me? I had a friend, Louise, who had just gotten out of a bad marriage and I finally woke up when she told me she'd known about the bruises on me for a while. Suddenly, I realized I was a human being and deserved better. Yep, I told him so too. He didn't take it very well, and basically told me that either I could get an attorney and file for divorce or he would. Fine. No problem. 

One week later, he signed the papers and they were filed in the Court house. Louise went to church with an attorney and after he told her about my situation, he had the papers done in a matter of days. One of my clients was the daughter of the Judge to whom the case had been assigned. In GA, you can have divorce agreement and a judge will sign the Divorce decree anytime after 31 days. July 15, 2004, I was finally free. I had lost a lot of weight since I had begun taking my new medication, and the stress of staying so near my bastard of an ex-husband had taken it's toll. I'd lost nearly 60 lbs. and had been diagnosed with an ulcer. On the positive side – 60LBS!!! I felt great about that.

July 17th was the Saturday after our divorce. I was having a modular home put on property I owned and the divorce agreement allowed me to live in the family home until the modular was finished. I was awakened to discover William had taken the bedroom door off the hinges. I hopped in the shower and was going to head out of the house as quickly as possible. 30 minutes later I was on my way out when he stopped me and informed me that he knew I was going to become a whore and that I'd probably get piercings and be sucking dicks within a week. I looked at him and the rebel in me woke up. I told him "You know, that's a great idea, and you can pay for it". I grabbed a $50 bill out of his wallet and walked out the door. I used my cell phone and called another friend to find out where she'd had her tongue pierced. I called the shop and went immediately. A heavily tattooed girl name Misty met me at the door. I was very relieved to recognize her as a former client. I told her about what had happened, had a nice cry and asked her to pierce my tongue. She smiled and before I could blink, it was done, with very little pain. I was staring at it and finally started to smile. I'd finally done something just for me. It was my first baby-step on my own and I was proud. 

Driving back home, I realized my tongue was swelling and new he'd only use that to laugh at me, or worse, beat my ass for acting like a whore. (Strange, the woman he cheated on me with had a pierced tongue.) I called my friend Louise and she said to come to her house. 

I drove up in her yard as was shocked to see her friend Tom's truck in the drive way. I'd me Tom in February 2003. He had come into our office and I was lucky enough to be working the reception desk at the time. I could remember it so clearly. He was tall, a good six footer, dark skin (I'd thought maybe Hawaiian, but now know he is partially Native American), dark hair, a wide chest with massive shoulders and eyes that just sparkled when he spoke. I'm not kidding, I even remembered the shirt he'd had on that day, a dark charcoal gray long sleeve with a lone wolf on the left chest. I'd greeted him and immediately went back to tell Louise we had a hot one at the front counter. He and she had become fast friends and I found out quite a bit about him through the year and a half from Louise. He was a truck driver, but had taken a construction job later behind our office, building a retail store. He'd come to the back door and talk with Louise and I'd blush and leave. I know Louise knew I'd developed a crush, but I was married at the time and there was no way I would ever cheat. I found out he'd taken her to a sex club in Atlanta and heard stories from her about him being able to go on and on for hours. In my frustration, part of me hated her for living out the fantasies I wanted but he was the forbidden fruit to me and I was not going there because I was married.

Earlier in the Spring, his girlfriend of 16 months, Melody, had left him and I found him in our parking lot at work, waiting for us to open up so he could talk to Louise. He was crying real tears of pain. I told him to wait and I went inside and had her go out to him. She told me he had only thought he was in love, but the girl wasn't right for him. I knew he'd dated (and bedded) other women while he'd been dating her. It turns out that she left him because he had to take care of his children for two weeks while his ex wife was being treated for a medical problem. I'd met Melody. She was cute, but thin and dumb as a brick. She'd found a computer nerd who lived in our area and was moved in with him even before she'd told Tom. 

When I saw him in her yard on July 17th, my heart leaped into my throat. I had been so attracted to him for so long. I wasn't wrong now – I was divorced. It wasn't like Louise had any claim to him, she was dating a guy. I decided to walk on in and just see what would happen. My mouth was swollen, and I was still a little jittery from the nervousness of having the piercing done. I walked in and he was asleep on her couch. I asked Louise if it was okay for me to stay and she said sure. She said she was getting ready for work, but to wake Tom up and talk for a while. He'd gone back to truck driving and had been gone all week. He was talking a nap while his clothes were washing. I patted him on the shoulder and he looked up at me over his left shoulder with those sleepy eyes and I had to fight the urge to crawl on top of him. I purposely sat down on the small sofa across the room from him.

Apparently Louise had been filling him in on my situation as well as she was filling me in on his. In fact, she laughed that her son had said that it would be neat if Mr. Tom and I got together. She kept getting ready and we made small talk. When she was ready to go to work at her second job, I got up to go to, but she stopped me telling me to stay as long as I needed to. I looked at Tom lying on the couch and sat back down. I told him how I'd tried to be a good, loyal wife, but it seemed that men only wanted women like Tammy. The woman my ex husband cheated with. I told him I was going to become that kind of woman – a bar whore. The bar-hopping, multiple partner types that used sex to get what they wanted. He said something to the effect of "Dumb men want those types". He told me that since his ex-girlfriend had left him, he'd decided to remain celibate until he was married. One comment was the next woman he slept with, he'd be married to. I almost felt guilty that my long-neglected vagina was beginning to cry for attention and my clit had decided to rise to the occasion. He told me how he had been to bars, picked up women (and been picked up). I admitted to knowing some of what had happened with him and Louise in Atlanta. We talked about his job and how his shoulders were sore from driving. 

Always trying to be helpful, I suggested I could rub them for him. He smiled and I took that for a go-ahead. I sat beside him and slowly rubbed his shoulders, and allowed my fingers to rub the nape of his neck and trail into his hair, rubbing and pulling just slightly. He moaned and continued to lay still. I remember thinking how much easier it would be if he took his shirt off and advised him of such. He removed his shirt. Somehow, I decided that I could get better leverage if I sat on his ass and rubbed his now naked shoulders. God, they were perfect. I've always admired tall men with muscular shoulders and arms. He was my own personal version of male perfection. Sitting on his ass, my hands kneading his shoulders, rubbing lower on his back until I was brushing the top of his jeans. 

I was becoming more and more aroused and our conversation was being directed toward his resolution to remain celibate until marriage. I showed him my tongue piercing and asked if oral sex was against the whole celibacy thing. Shortly after, he'd rolled over and I was grinding myself on his jeans. He said no, and stood up. I threw a pillow on the floor and proceeded to unzip his jeans and set his manhood free. 

Upon seeing him, I realized that I'd been lied to for the 17 years of my marriage. My husband had maintained how he had such a huge cock. Sorry, the urge hit to call him and cuss him out at the moment my eyes feasted on the sight of the penis in front of me. I told him I wasn't sure if I could take that much in. He thought I meant because my tongue was swelling, but I told him that it was because he was huge. He laughed at me and said he was just average. Again, I wanted to grab a phone and tell Mr. Wormy off. 

I admit it wasn't my best work, but he seemed to enjoy my mouth encasing him. I was sore, but wanted to try out the tongue ring on him to gauge his reaction. I was very pleased. We went like this for a few minutes and I was becoming hotter and hotter. I asked him if his vow of celibacy was carved in concrete and I saw him smiling. 

I held his hand and led him into the bathroom. I told him I loved being taken from behind in a standing position. I bent over and he positioned himself behind me. I knew he was much bigger than I was accustomed to and was wondering if he'd fit. He pushed in slowly but determinedly. For the first time in my life, I felt filled. So filled in fact, that there was the slightest hint of pain mixed in. He began slowly moving in and out of me. I hung on to the side of the tub as his hands held my hips, moving me to his rhythm. The sensation was amazing and before long I was panting on the verge of orgasm. A REAL orgasm. One brought on by my lover, not my vibrator. It shook me and I moaned a little louder than I'd liked. He started asking if he could come. My first thought was WHAT? He asked again and I said yes. He pumped into me harder and started moving so fast. He held my hips and increased his speed and I could feel the stirrings of another orgasm. DAMN! Two orgasms in one session of sex? Unheard of. He slammed home and held me and moaned out. I felt him spilling into me and again my cunt pulsed. It was overwhelming. He pulled out. We'd been going for well over half an hour – even after I'd blown him. Strangely, he started apologizing, saying he usually went a lot longer. I just smiled and looked up in stunned silence. I couldn't believe anything could top that. I tried to clean myself up and found a slight tint of blood. I figured he was just so big. 

We laid together on the couch and he held me, nuzzling into my neck and rubbing my arms, shoulders and back. I hadn't been held in so long. Our legs were entwined and the rubbing and touching began to arouse us all over again. We repeated our earlier performance in the bathroom, this time with him lasting even longer. I couldn't believe he was able to get hard again so fast. 

Again, we cleaned up and went back to lying together on the couch. He asked me more about my life and I asked him about his. He knew I had children. He had two at about the same age range as mine. We laughed about how we'd met. I told him I remembered the shirt he had on and described it to him. He was surprised and said he knew exactly which shirt I was talking about. Then he dropped the biggest surprise on me. Not only did he describe the dress I had worn that day. He stated that he'd always wanted to fuck me. That he knew I'd be wild. He told me he'd always thought I was cute. He ran his hand across my face and began kissing my neck and pinching my nipples. I started to head back to the bathroom, but he stopped me by grabbing my hand and taking me into the bedroom.

He laid me down and for the first time in my life, I was made love to. He undressed me and kissed my breasts. We he looked down at my tummy, I reminded him while I blushed that I had twins. He just smiled and kept going. He began rubbing my clit with his fingers and probing my sex. I started wiggling. I wasn't used to this. I started telling him to put his dick in me and he just smiled and kept playing with me, sucking my nipples, biting, pinching my clit. When he finally mounted me, it took me by surprise. I was usually the person on top, doing the grinding. He slid into me and began moving slowly. He never stopped using his hands to caress me, pulling my nipples, holding my hair. I leaned my head back as an orgasm neared and opened my eyes to look out the open window. He shook me from my reverie by saying "Look at me". I was confused and he demanded "Look at me", pulling my hair and moving my head to make me look into his eyes. I saw life there. That was all that it took to release my orgasm and I cried out and strained against him. He didn't stop moving, only increased his speed and joined me in the release. 




Freedom



He held me tight and cradled me in his arms as our breathing returned to normal. I asked him why he'd made me look at him when I came. He said he wanted to see me, that he saw life in my eyes and I knew exactly what he meant.

I never did get to become the bar-hopping whore I had told him I wanted to become. I've become his whore, and he's introduced me to my own fantasies. Fantasies I was too uptight to express, but he could see. I became his wife on July 5th of this year. I'm happy and loved and finally know what it means to be free. We've done a lot of experimenting in the 15 months we've been together, including sex in his Truck, my first trips to a sex-toy store and my introducing him to anal. Let me know if you are interested and I'll gladly write more.



Freedom



"Hey."

He didn't answer, he just stared at her, unsure what it meant to have her standing at his door. 

"Can I come in?"

He stepped out of the way and gestured for her to move past him into the apartment, and watched her as she walked by. His nerve endings felt on end as she passed him. He didn't speak as he picked up her bag from the doorway and shut the door. He stood with his hand on the door for a moment and realized he was clenching his jaw. When he turned, she was standing with her head cocked slightly to the side and a mischievous smile on her face. Her dress was low cut, not skin tight, but it clung to her body and accentuated the curves of her breasts and hips, the flatness of her stomach, and ended midway down her lean thighs. She was tall, with long legs and a swimmer's frame with the kind of breasts that plastic surgeons attempted futilely to duplicate. 

"You did miss me," she said, seeing the look on his face. 

"Yeah, I missed you. A lot. I can't believe you ...," he started, his voice rising, but then stopped and took a deep breath. "Take of your dress."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't move. 

"Take off your clothes, and go over to the couch." 

When she still didn't move, he turned and opened the door to the apartment and then walked into the couch and sat down. She looked from the open door back to him, bemused, and after a moment walked to close it. He pushed a button on a remote and music filled the room before she made it to stand in front of him. Their gazes met for the length of a heartbeat, two, three, and then she moved her hands to her waist, took the fabric of her dress in her fingertips and began to slowly pull it upward. At first he continued to meet her stare, but his eyes were drawn to the bottom edge of the dress. It inched up her legs and then paused, hovering just at the point where a hint of black lace that could have been more imagination than reality was exposed. He pulled his stare up to her face and found her watching him, her bottom lip clenched lightly between her teeth. He nodded at her and by the time his eyes were back at the bottom of the dress, it had cleared her waist, revealing the curved lines of her hips, her narrow waist, and a delicate black lace thong that was both transparent and opaque, designed to reveal and tease while still hiding her most intimate parts.

The skin of her stomach was pale and taut and the contrast between her skin and the dark fabric of her dress was incredibly erotic. After the dress was over her head, he could see that her bra was also black and lace, and revealed more of her perfect breasts than it hid. He marveled again, one of countless times, at the incongruity of her natural breasts on her lean, athletic frame. 

"Turn around," he said and then added, "Slowly." 

When her back was to him he said, "Stop. Spread your legs." He leaned forward until she could feel his breath on the small of her back and let his fingertips run up her legs along the outside, across her ass and back down before letting one hand rise again up the inside of her of her thigh to end with his palm against her groin. He felt her shudder and saw the reaction on her skin and abruptly gave a light slap on her ass. She gasped, but didn't move, and after a moment, he reached up and unhooked her bra with one hand and left the other cupped against her. She slid the straps off her shoulders and let the bra fall to the floor without guidance. His hand traced her bare spine and then settled on her ass for a moment before leaning back into the couch again. 

"Take it off." 

She looked back over her shoulder at him as she used her thumbs to ease the fabric over her hips. She bent forward and pushed the thong downward to slip down her long legs and then stepped out of it. As she straightened, he took hold of her waist and pulled her onto his lap. He cupped her breasts, drew her against him, and ran his hand down her stomach and to her cunt. She gasped as he began to rub her clit with his middle and ring fingers at the same time as he squeezed her breast and nipple. When she began to arch against him, he used his legs underneath her to spread hers and without warning entered her with a finger. He pressed against her clit with his palm, drove his finger in and out of her, and then added another finger as she began to breath more raggedly. 

He kissed her neck and bit at it lightly and she moaned his name and covered his hands with hers before saying, "Please, don't stop."

He chuckled and bit at her shoulder and plunged his fingers harder and more quickly, making the muscles in his forearm stand out. He felt her clench at him with her hands and her cunt, and knew she was coming. She pulled at his wrist as she trembled to the end of her orgasm and he pulled his fingers from her and then pulled her chin around toward him to kiss her hard on the mouth. Still kissing her, he stood, holding her behind her knees and lifting her with him before lowering her so she could stand against him. 

"Undress me." 

She kissed hungrily at his neck as she unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it free from his pants, and pushed it off of his shoulders. When the shirt was off, he clutched her hair near the base of her skull and pulled her into another hard kiss while she pulled at his belt, and when it was undone, he turned her, not breaking the kiss until he pushed her to a sitting position on the couch. She looked up at him as she pulled the button of his jeans open, yanked his zipper down, and tugged his jeans down over his hips. His cock stood out in front of him, and she took it in her hand, stroked him several times and then drew him into her mouth. He groaned at the sudden wetness and heat of her mouth and gripped at her shoulders. He began to move his hips, fucking her mouth as she held his ass with her hands and he still held her shoulders. 

"Touch yourself. Play with your cunt," he growled, and she reached to comply, moaning around his cock as she began to finger herself. 

Abruptly, he stopped her and pulled her to her feet. He held her by the wrist and wrenched her along behind him to the bedroom. He spun her around and pushed her onto her hands and knees on the bed and brought his hand down sharply on her ass, once, twice, three times in rapid succession. She yelped with each strike and then groaned when he pulled her ass apart and licked her roughly, first her cunt and then her asshole. 

"Oh, Jesus, Fuck. Goddamn," she whimpered, clutching at the bedding as he penetrated her with his tongue and held her ass apart. She let her head fall forward onto the bed so that her back made an elegant curve from her shoulders to the base of her spine. He nudged her knees farther apart and without pausing thrust into her, slamming forward until his thighs were against hers and then, thumbs digging into her waist pulled back until he was all but out of her before driving forward again. He began to pick up the pace and every few strokes gave a light slap at her ass. Faster and faster, over and over, he crashed into her, fucking her so he could feel the exertion in his abdomen and an ache in his balls. He was rough, angry, pouring emotion into the act, and she absorbed it, absorbed him, understood him. Sweat beaded on both of them, breath coming in jagged whispers. She was making inarticulate sounds and then howled his name as she came. The pressure of her contracting around him started a howl within him, and ratcheted tenseness through his muscles. 

He snarled her name and she twisted around, already reaching for his cock as he seized at her like she was freedom itself. She had him in her mouth grabbing at his ass as he came, rigid and vibrating with the intensity of the orgasm. When he finished, he collapsed to kneel, ass on his heels and she continued to suck at him, until he gasped and pushed at her shoulders to free himself. He caught her head in both hands and pulled her up to him, kissed her forehead, and then her eyes, cheek and then softly on the lips. He eased her over backward until they were lying on the bed, her head on his chest and shoulder, one leg drawn across him as he stroked her hair. 

"Fuck, I'm glad you're here," he said. 

"Me too," she whispered with a smile, and then, "Better?"

"Yeah. Better, Sweet Girl. Better now."

They talked for a while, the pauses between responses growing longer until they were both asleep. In the morning they made love, slowly, tenderly before she made coffee wearing just the shirt she'd taken off him the previous night and he cooked, shirtless and touching her at every opportunity. Reassuring himself that she was still there, still freedom itself.



Phoenix



The coolness of His hand will never cease to startle me. He is always cold, and His skin bears the reminder. Each brush of His hand over my shoulder, even though my shirt, causes me to shiver and tremble, both due to the temperature and the arousal that His touch brings.

"Tonight, you will remember, love."

I nod, eyes closed in shame and cheeks burning with the same emotion. How could this have happened? How could I have let a dream interfere with something that meant so much to U/us both? 

His voice is soft against my ear, His presence very evident behind me. His hands run down my shoulders and down over my breasts, gently pulling me back against His chest. He knows my weakness, knows what calms me more than anything. 

This is His own form of bondage. No ropes or handcuffs. Not tonight. In every way, this is more powerful, more controlling. It is only my body held back against Him, His legs spread with me tucked against His body while He whispers into my ear.

His body is strong, supported against the headboard of the bed, bare-chested and clean-shaven. 

"I cannot force you. I will not force you. It was just a dream, little one. I promise." 

I am trembling now. Clenching my fingers into fists does no good to stop the shaking of my limbs and body against His chest. 

"I'm sorry, Mmm—" I cannot bring myself to say the word. I am still so terrified. 

His hands slide down my body, brushing over my stomach. His fingers are light, slipping down between my thighs, teasing lightly against my clit...just one brush at a time, barely anything at all. Anyone else might not even notice the touch.

But I do.

All I can manage is a gasp as He tugs gently at me, my head resting back against His dark shoulder. My pale complexion sits in strong contrast to His chocolate-toned skin. His voice is low in my ear as he gently kisses against my neck.

"I would never. You know I would never. It's alright, My love. I promise I would never."

Slowly He is turning me. Turning me to take His place against the headboard, my legs spread as He kneels between them. His hands are slow against my stomach and thighs now, touching me with so much tenderness that I almost want to cry...to force myself to scream the word that I cannot bring myself to say.

Slowly, His hands rise to wrap around my wrists. He gazes fully into my eyes, the lust apparently along with the grief I know He feels. He hates that I'm feeling what I'm feeling...that I have become afraid of Him. He and I both know that is nothing that He has done, but something powerful and crippling brought on by the vulnerabilities of my own subconscious. 

Gently, He binds my wrists together before tying me tightly to the bedstead. His movements are gentle, but oh, so firm. His Dominance is never in question, not even for a moment. 

Slowly, I inhale, the occurrences that brought me here still fresh in my mind... 

    ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was unavoidable. Just something that happens when I close my eyes. He's known from the beginning that I struggle with ceaseless nightmares. These are more than just dreams of falling or being chased by strange, primeval monsters...but flashes from my own broken past.

It is like a projector screen has been rolled down in my mind, and the claws of fear have dug their way into my heart and hold me steady as I am forced to watch my Hell over and over again. 

But this was different. This was a new dream that crept into my nighttime state. I cannot even bring myself to write the contents of my nightmare, but it was strong and real enough to take my submission and press it down beneath a pile of stone and broken pieces. 

I could no longer use the word that tied me to Him. I still wore His collar, delicate silver around my neck. But my words were chained to my tongue. I could no longer call Him what He was to me. 

I'd felt broken for days. Like I can't make myself come back to what I once was...what I worked so hard to accomplish...what He has grown in me in the months that now stretch behind U/us. He knows what I need. He knows what it will take to draw it back out of me again. This is what has brought U/us here.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Gently, He begins to kiss me. Lick me. His tongue is magic electricity against my body, cajoling my fear to the surface. His words form with each pass of His tongue.

"I....would...never..."

I can feel myself starting to arch, eyelids fluttering. My body starts to tug against the bonds that He knew needed to be kept tight to restrain me and my frantic struggles. 

"Please...Mmm—mmmm---"

The words are soft. "Please what?"

Whimpering now, can barely breathe.

"Please....please, may I...can I...I need to..."

Again, soft. "Please what, baby girl?"

Choked, almost a sob. "Please, may I cum...Master!?"

The last word is a wail. It's like something has snapped in my soul...like this one ashen phoenix has been rekindled, spreading its fiery wings for a renewed flight across the night sky. 

He sucks my clit fully into His mouth, barely able to mutter, "cum for Me, little one."

The freedom is inexplicable. 

The love pouring from Him into me is intoxicating.

I said it...just as He knew I would.

The phoenix is flying again.



Freedom



You once told me that we were like two sides of the same coin; you wandering the earth searching for a permanent home and soul-mate whilst I longed to escape the confines of my perfect domesticity. 

You told me your greatest fear was to grow old and die alone with neither a loved one to hold your hand nor a child to validate your existence. Mine was to die without having lived outside the conventions of polite society, without even having nudged the parameters of this ordered life for a glimpse of my true self.

And so, my friend, we wrote to each other every day, both of us eyeing the greener grass whilst trying to convince ourselves of how fortunate we were to be in our respective positions, so envied by the other. 

But I never appreciated the full extent of your sadness and when you embarked on your next globe-trotting adventure in the Far East, I smothered my resentment and continued the school runs and supermarket trips, sinking wearily into the sofa every evening, then waking restless from elusive dreams.

The news of your suicide reached me yesterday, two days after I had picked up your latest email, which I admit is now much clearer in hindsight. Another member from our internet forum broke the news after she had read about the tragic death of an Englishman abroad in her local newspaper. We all expressed our dismay and loss on an appropriate thread whilst privately, my heart plummeted and smashed into a thousand pieces as I felt the noose of my incarceration squeeze tighter against my throat. How selfish of me to dwell on my solitary melancholy now that you had abandoned me for those greener heavenly pastures.

It is almost half past eight in the morning. Paul has already left for work, after another wearisome quarrel, and both the children are at school. I pull my dressing-gown tighter across my chest to banish the early morning chill and pour myself a strong cup of tea before reading, once more, your final words to me.

"Dear Maddie,

I feel as if I am being swept along helplessly by a strong current towards an enormous waterfall. But the curious thing is that I am not struggling to avert this disaster, indeed I feel a certain comfort in just letting go and seeing where the rapids takes me. This must be what a baptism feels like; submerging your fears and uncertainty in the cool, fresh water then emerging purified and cleansed of self-doubt.

I have no real responsibilities to keep me from exploring this path, which at this particular juncture in my life appears to be the only way forward. But before I leave you, I give you this: fight, my friend, to recapture your aimless soul - for claim it you must, before the rot of bitterness and regret consumes not only you, but all those around you. 

Wherever you go, my dear sweet Maddie, I shall always remain with you. 

Oliver x"

I switch off the computer, lean back in my chair and close my eyes, pushing away all thoughts of the banal obligations that preoccupy my dreary life: shopping lists, daily menus, PTA meetings, extra-curricular activities, perfunctory intercourse, housework. Instead, I try and focus on the precise chain of events that led me to this prison. 

Of course, when I met Paul at university, how could I have known that the intoxicating and meaningful love we made in those early days and that our ensuing dreams of a fruitful union would result in the daily drudgery of my life now? I used to glitter at parties, flitting skilfully from man to woman, charming all and sundry with my sparkling wit and intellect, rising refreshed at dusk and falling sated and happy into my bed at dawn. 

Unencumbered, I would catch the midnight showing of a summer blockbuster in Leicester Square with a group of friends then wander through Chinatown in search of a sweaty nightclub tucked away in an obscure backstreet of Soho. I could spend hours alone on a Sunday at the Tate or the National, drenching myself in all the beauty and culture that a vibrant city has to offer the young and idle. 

Paul and I used to travel lightly before the days of highchairs and nappies, with nothing more than some cash in our pockets and an overnight bag. We would talk into the early hours of the morning about exploring the world together and we enjoyed each other's company on equal footing with the reassuring knowledge that either of us could walk out of that door anytime we desired with no baggage to anchor us.

Then the years caught up with us and, in our perceived maturity, Paul and I began to think about the next steps of marriage and children as our parents and grandparents had done before us. How naïve of me to think that I would remain the same care-free happy person I was back then, and that the balance, so finely tuned in our relationship, would never shift. Diligently, we started to build our nest and midday post-coital conversations about skiing in Chamonix were replaced by afternoon property viewings in the right catchment areas. 

Somehow, it was tacitly agreed that Paul should continue climbing the corporate ladder whilst I stay at home to raise the children. So as he proceeded to flourish at the office surrounded by his sycophantic and opportunistic peers, my brilliant mind was left to stagnate in the unforeseen wasteland of spousal and maternal hell, devoid of my former friends who were equally plagued by their own arbitrary lives. 

Paul cannot understand my misery and tears. On paper, our domestic life is perfect. He thinks me selfish and ungrateful, yet he cannot see how I have become a slave to the needs of my family, that I must sacrifice my personal growth and happiness in order that they may fulfil theirs. I am in a constant state of anxiety and fatigue as I strive to be the perfect wife and mother whilst struggling to retain my identity; an impossible task when daily conversations revolve around cartoon characters, and the highlight of my day is finding discounted produce at the supermarket. The children know the exact pitch at which to scream to bring on a migraine and dinner-time is its own special brand of torture. 

Then Paul returns late again from work in an effort to avoid my ugly moods, which merely fuels my antagonism, and thus we spend the evening in either fiery conflict or icy civility. Paul is blind to how lonely I have become and how this has festered into resentment towards his uninterrupted weekend lie-ins, his lengthy gym sessions, and the peaceful private hours he affords himself late at night after the children have gone to sleep and I have crawled exhausted into my separate bed, too tired to face another disappointment. 

And now you, my precious Oliver - who I stumbled upon one tedious morning whilst browsing the online chat-rooms for conversation and companionship, who for nine months patiently listened to my anguish over my invisibility, who shared my despair and made me feel revered and whole again - you have gone. I am, once more, alone in my cage and for a brief moment I consider the path of your release.

I open my eyes with sudden clarity. 

I refuse to die this way. 

I choose to live.

Berlin. 

I always wanted to delve into the seedy underbelly of Berlin. 

I book a flight for that afternoon and pack a small suitcase, leaving a note for Paul with a vague explanation of how the latest argument has pushed me over the edge and I how I now need some time to myself. Even at the point of betrayal, the dutiful wife and mother in me promises to contact him the following day, adding that I have asked his sister to help with the children during my absence and that I will be taking up an offer to stay with an old school friend by the coast. I send a text message to his sister explaining the same and ask her to collect the children from school later that afternoon. 

As I close the front door firmly behind me and climb into the waiting taxi, I notice my hands are trembling. I cannot determine whether from fear or exhilaration, but I know that if I falter now I shall not live to see the sun set. There is a momentary pang of guilt as the taxi sets off; not because I am deserting my family, but because I am unable to summon feelings of contrition for doing so. It is not until I am in the air high above the clouds that I begin to feel my clipped wings slowly unfurl.

***

I am running late for the girls' school play and usher them playfully out of the bathroom towards the front door. Paul has promised to meet us there at half past five but his lack of punctuality no longer grieves me, having freed myself of this compulsion to control every aspect of our lives. With the girls safely strapped in their car-seats, I check my lipstick in the rear-view mirror and marvel at how the new blonde highlights form an angelic halo around my face, softening the scratchy lines at the corners of my eyes. I am certainly not a book to be judged by its cover, I think wryly to myself as I head towards the school. I hear the girls giggling in the back, so much happier now that their once over-wrought mother smiles instead of screams at them, hums show-tunes throughout the day instead of weeping behind the bedroom door at night. 

Paul has noticed the change in me since my return and savours the buoyant hedonism of my new incarnation, although he has never fully questioned what precipitated it or exactly where I fled four months ago; perhaps a preternatural sense that the revelation would irrevocably damage our fragile relationship. Some things are better left unspoken. 

I have saved a chair next to me for Paul and, as the hall lights fade, I crane my neck to spot my daughters amongst the children as they make their entrance. My husband arrives ten minutes later and under the cover of partial darkness he furtively slides a hand under my skirt as he takes his seat. I give him a side-long glance, slowly yielding my thighs further apart so that his fingers brush against the moistness of my naked mound. His eyes glaze and although he stares intently at the stage, I know he is distracted by the memory of our rough coupling from the previous night. He is impatient to return to our bed and I am hungry for his flesh.

You see, Oliver, it was not my domesticity from which I sought to escape after all, but simply my self-imposed morality. 

By the second night in Berlin, I had discarded my lofty ethics and fully embraced my lost soul. Now when I eat an over-ripe pineapple, the sweet pungent taste of the willowy brunette from the fetish bar on Urbanstraße lingers memorably on my tongue. Never had I anticipated the thirst I would acquire for drinking the cunt juices of a beautiful woman as she gracefully straddled my face on the lush carpet in the closed back room. I dissolved in her soaking pussy, swirling and sucking each delicious tiny fold, probing her delicate slit with the length of my tongue until she shuddered violently into my face and infused her balmy perfume into my skin.

On the treadmill each morning, perspiration trickles between my bound breasts and I am once again writhing beneath countless damp, greedy hands as they explore the deepest uncharted crevices of my body. I remember entering the sex club, naked and accessible to anyone who wished to have me, my dripping cunny signalling the urgency for a deep hard fuck. Plundered for hours by an eager mob, I crawled back to my hotel and drifted into a deadened slumber, the kind that had eluded me for so long and for which my body now ached in order to heal my broken spirit.

When Paul frantically entered me last night, I recalled the queues of unfamiliar, engorged men filling me with their lustful seed as I lay chained and compliant on the soiled sheets in the dimly-lit underground club. Forced to relinquish control, I had calmly accepted the strangers into my throat, cunt and arsehole as they stretched and marked me, each welcoming assault bringing home the realisation that in order to anchor my trouble soul, all I had to do was let go and simply be. 

I exhale with satisfaction at the memories of my emancipation, which must nourish me until my next trip two months from now.

I wonder had you lived, Oliver, would you have applauded my courage in seeking out such deliverance or would you have taken exception for leaving you behind? Was the bold step of committing your heart and soul to an ordinary woman too fearful an undertaking for your foolish ego that you chose death instead to be your steadfast companion? 

No matter. 

You remain as you promised, my dear friend, locked away in a tiny corner of my heart as we continue to flow spontaneously with the rapids towards our uncertain denouement.

THE END



Freedom



It had been a year since Don had left Samantha and moved in with his secretary. As part of the divorce settlement Samantha kept her home and had sufficient money to get by.

It occurred to me that it had been a year in which Sam had drawn herself into a shell. Although she lived just down the road we were at best nodding acquaintances. Then it struck me that she'd always seemed the quiet type, Don, her ex, would strike up a conversation but Sam was never included, and if she did attempt to join in Don would quickly cut her short giving the impression that Sam's opinions were unimportant. 

Sam didn't drive so she could often be seen walking to the shops a couple of kilometres away. Her head was always bowed as if trying to avoid eye contact with passers by. Which was something of a pity as Sam in her late twenties was an attractive lady. Even her defensive posture could not disguise her striking figure with full firm breasts and curving hips. Her peaches and cream complexion with blue eyes and cropped short fair hair bespoke an English rose heritage. She could have easily made friends but something inside seemed to be stopping her from doing so.

It was a situation that in everyone's opinion needed remedying. At the age of 60 I was regarded as the 'Old man of the street.' And with this view of age came a perception of wisdom. It seems to me that wisdom is often confused with commonsense. Be that as it may people looked to me to do something about getting Samantha out of her shell.

Conversation with the lady tended to be one-way traffic it was difficult to get much more than a yes or no reply from her, it was as if she had built a defensive wall around herself, I felt that breaching fortress Samantha was going to be no easy task, I was soon to be proved wrong.

It was a stinking hot day and I was at the local supermarket buying some groceries, as I finished paying I looked up to notice that Sam was just leaving one of the other checkouts carrying a small bag of purchases.

I waited for her to draw level with me then said, 'I'll give you a lift home Sam.'

'No that's OK I can walk.' She replied.

'I wasn't asking Sam. I was insisting. It's far too hot to walk.'

'Well if you insist.' A smile lit her face. 'Then thankyou Jim I accept.'

Her smile turned to a look of dismay when we reached my transport. 'You're riding a motor-bike.' She gasped.

'Yeah, I thought that I'd give the car a rest.' I replied then before she could protest I opened the top box and whisked out the spare helmet and replaced it with our shopping.

Samantha looked at the helmet as if it were something alien. "I've never been on a motorbike.' She said.

Well then you're in for a real treat.' I replied as I fastened the helmet over her soft hair and lowered the visor. 'Hop on. Let's go. All you need do is go with the bike, when it leans, lean with it. It's that easy.'

As soon as Sam had settled behind me I hit the starter button and the 1200cc B.M.W. engine growled into life. Because it was her first time on a bike I took things easy but even so the bike got us home in half the time that it would have taken a car. A quick blip of the throttle at the traffic lights caused us to leave other traffic in our wake then we skimmed past slow moving queues of cars with ease.

When we reached Sam's place I pulled in to the kerb stopped the bike and twisted round to look at her. When she raised the visor her face was flushed. 'Oh that was so much fun.' She gasped. 'It was just exhilarating.'

I paused then asked. ' Is there anything in your shopping that needs refrigerating?'

'No.' she replied. 'It's just bread and vegetables'

'Then hang on tight. Now we're going for a real ride.'

'But I can't I have to cook dinner.' She protested

'I'll take care of that.' I replied then before she could say another word I started the bike hit the throttle and we roared off down the street.

In no time we had passed through the town and were headed down the highway. Now the Beemer came into her own, the growl from the engine turned to a snarl as we tore past a line of cars that had formed behind a lumbering road train. Then the snarl became a roar as we raced past the truck and headed for the open road.

A turn off had us passing through country roads that climbed into the mountains. It was here that the B.M.W. really came alive. There are a few bikes that will give the Beemer a run for her money when it comes to acceleration and top speed but none, in my opinion, that can live with her for handling. As we passed through winding mountain passes the bike swung easily from side to side and although we were close to dragging the footpegs along the bitumen the sure-footed machine never as much as twitched. Every time we came out of a bend into a straight. I gave the throttle a twist and the front of the bike became light as if she was trying to become airborne. Then a dab on the brakes would bring us back to a speed that could cope with the next series of bends.

Sam was a good pillion passenger, she had shuffled closer to me her arms were wrapped around me so that our weight was centrally located on the bike which made for better handling, But I couldn't help being aware of two very firm breasts that were pressing into my back

Only those who know and love motorbikes have experienced the sheer exhilaration that comes from such a ride. Samantha was taking the crash course. We swept down out of the mountains and made our way through vineyards where row upon row of tended vines marched in orderly processions along our route. 

I turned into a winery that I knew to have a first class restaurant and came to a halt. Stopping the engine I dismounted and turned to help Sam from the bike. 'I told you that I would take care of dinner.' I said then indicated the restaurant, 'Dinner awaits my lady.'

Sam's face was animated, flushed and full of life, she tore of her helmet, threw her arms around me then stepped back and gave a loud whoop of sheer joy. 'I have never felt so alive, sooo.' She searched for a word then found it. 'So free, so utterly and beautifully freeee!' Then the lady who so recently had been reserved and withdrawn threw her arms wide spun in a circle then kissed me full on the lips and said. 'Thankyou Jim Thankyou.'

'The pleasure was all mine dear lady. Now shall we dine?'

It seemed to me that Sam's reaction to a motorbike ride was at least a little bit over the top. Once again I was soon to be proved wrong.

After studying the menu we both decided on Barramundi, which is a truly delicious Australian codfish. This was served with a fresh garden salad and accompanied by a lightly oaked Chardonnay that the winery was justly proud of. Sam appeared to be savouring every mouthful, closing her eyes and eating slowly as if trying to memorise every morsel.

'You are enjoying the food.' I commented.

'Ooh yes! It seems that now I'm free even my food tastes better.'

'Free?' I inquired.

'Yes Jim, free. You can never know what that ride on your bike meant to me. As we swooped through those mountain passes I felt...No! Became free for the first time in my life.' The heat of the day had caused her to perspire so that her breasts were sticking to her shirt and her excitement from the bike ride was making them heave in a very enticing manner. She continued. 'I have never been so alive and I want to savour every minute. Not just the food'

' But free?' I was becoming repetitious because her words were puzzling me. Samantha looked up from her food; saw my look of puzzlement then without raising her voice told me her story.

There had only been two men in her life, her father and her husband. Her father was a martinet, a man who firmly believed that children were to be seen and not heard. This to the extent that she had never been allowed to form an opinion of her own much less voice one. He was equally firm of the belief of not sparing the rod to spoil the child. The slightest disagreement with this tyrant was met by immediate and painful punishment. To make matters worse his wife was only able to have one child and to his eternal shame that child was not the son that he could have formed in his own image. Her mother had never enjoyed good health and passed away when Sam was five. Her father felt that someone should be punished for this and that someone was Samantha. He watched her like a hawk and if he as much as thought that she might have ideas that did not match his own then retribution was swift.

As she grew and reached her teens she naturally became aware of boys of her own age. Her father's reaction had been to literally lock her up. She was taken to and from school then later to work. Her job in an all female typing pool was a position within the company where her father worked. Where once again she was driven to and from work. 

But it is in the nature of typing pools for the girls to chat during their breaks and when the work slackened off. It was during these chats that Sam learned that there was another side to life, a side that was both interesting and exciting, a side that involved having boyfriends. All of the girls it seemed had boyfriends, all except Sam that is. 

Their relationships varied from those who had only recently met their man and those who had gone the whole hog and were now in a live together relationship. Sam was fascinated by all of their stories and even found herself becoming aroused when some of the senior girls talked at length of their sexual experiences.

But most exciting of all to Sam was that she could see that a man in her life would be her ticket out of her father's control. In her fervid imagination this man took on the persona of a knight in armour who would come to her rescue.

Her knight in shining armour turned out to be Don an underling in the department that her father supervised. Sweeping Samantha off her feet was a simple task. It was not till they had married that Sam discovered her father had put Don up to the idea of dating her; with the understanding that promotion would come quickly if the young man were to marry his daughter.

It soon became obvious to Sam that Don was the son that her father always wanted. He was a control freak who simply took over from where her father left off.

Two years after her marriage her father suffered a massive heart attack and died. But even though he had passed away he continued to control her life in the form of a son who had now been promoted into his position within the company.

It wasn't until after her divorce that Sam discovered that Don's affair with his secretary had been ongoing since before her marriage. No wonder he had so little time for her. All that Don had added to Sam's life was frustration. When he left her she had no feeling of loss only a sense of being alone which compared to her life up till that point was something of an improvement. 

Samantha had already started to think of herself as an old maid when I offered her a lift home. The simple act of riding on a motorbike had been a massive turning point in her life. She became animated as once again her face flushed as she spoke.

'I really enjoyed the ride home your bike is just thrilling in the way that it moves and responds. I had accepted that the ride home was probably going to be the highlight of my year then before I knew it we were off again. Racing along the highway had me shivering with excitement but the when we rode through the mountains and the bike really came alive, so did I.'

A slow smile crossed her face, and then she continued. 'Its hard to explain but the feeling of joy, excitement and sheer freedom was no longer the highlight of my year; it was the highlight of my life! Because suddenly it came to me like a bolt of the blue that I was just as free as the motorbike, unchained, unrestrained, free to fly like the bike. And not just for today but for the rest of my life! You can never begin to understand what that ride on your bike means to me.'

There was a lump in my throat as I tried to respond, it was hard to find words to fit the occasion 'Sam, if only I had known we could have done this a dozen times by now.'

'You couldn't possibly have known Jim. But there is one other thing that I'd like to explain.' Her eyes became downcast and I feared that she might be sliding back into her shell. Then she continued. ' I can't begin to explain how good it felt to have somebody do something for the sole purpose of letting me enjoy myself and be happy. It felt so good to know that this whole trip was not something that you'd planned it was just something that you wanted to do for me. And Jim, it just felt so good, so right, to have my arms around a man who was good, kind, strong and gentle.' 

Sam raised her hands to her mouth as if she has said too much. I never spoke. I got to my feet walked around the table and lifted Sam out of her chair and hugged her to me. We remained in each others arms for fully two minutes before I whispered, 'Sam this is a loving hug, you have lots of them coming your way and you deserve every single one.'

Tears were shining in her eyes as she replied. 'I hope that a lot of them will be coming from you Jim.'

I returned her to her seat then picked up her wine glass and gave it to her. Then we toasted. 'To freedom and happiness.'

Sam took another sip of her wine then said. 'I like this wine, can we have some more?'

'Yes but not yet. We still have to ride home so I'll get a couple of bottles to take with us.'

'I would enjoy that, the two glasses that I've had are making me feel so relaxed.'

'In vino veritas' I quoted

'What does that mean?'

'It translates to. "In wine there is truth." Which means that wine can relax our inhibitions to allow us become more truthful. It is truth that sets us free. But like almost everything, wine is only good in moderation. Now shall we go home?'

I have always maintained that you only need to take a B.M.W. motorbike anywhere once. After that the bike knows its own way and all you need do is enjoy the ride. Thus it was that we made our way home just enjoying the ride whilst the machine swooped through the mountains and because I was relaxed I became more conscious of my delightful passenger. She had squirmed as close to me as possible so that I was conscious of the full length of her torso against my back. Her breasts were really firm, a fact that I was truly aware of when Sam hugged me tightly as we swooped through many of the tighter bends. 

It was almost with regret that I turned into our street and our journey was over. I turned to Sam and yelled. 'Your place or mine?'

'Mine.' She replied.

After I'd opened and poured the wine we settled into two deep armchairs in Sam's tastefully furnished living room. We chatted for a while then I noticed that Sam was drinking far too quickly. 'Hey take it easy with that stuff it can knock you down as quickly as it lifted you up.'

'Message received loud and clear.' Sam grinned. 'Music?' then without awaiting a reply she made her way to a stereo and shortly thereafter the room was filled with Dave Brubeck taking five.

Nothing is more relaxing than warm Jazz and cool white wine; there was silence whilst we enjoyed both. There is silence and then there is silence. There is the kind of silence where people find solitude and there are silences that somehow draw us together. This was the latter, I found myself enjoying Sam's company without a word being spoken and I instinctively knew that Sam was feeling exactly the same. Therefore it came as no surprise when, without a word, Sam rose to her feet to came and settle in my lap; we smiled, clinked glasses and again toasted freedom and happiness.

Sam's head was resting on my shoulder so that I hardly had to raise my voice above a soft rumble when I asked. 'So, where to from here Sam?'

She mused a moment before replying. ' From here? I'm not really sure Jim. I only know that for the rest of my life I'll be doing what I want to do and going where I want to go. And right at this moment that is exactly what is happening.' She raised her head slightly to look me in the eyes then leaned forward. This time her kiss was soft, warm and tender.

I could see where this was heading but there was a point that I felt had to be made. 'Sam, you do realise that I'm old enough to be your....'

'Stop right there Jim.' She cut me off. 'Haven't I just finished telling you that I'm doing what I want to do? If your age was any kind of a problem then I wouldn't be here.'

I looked into her eyes and all that shone back was complete sincerity. This time when she kissed me I responded so that our tongues laced around each other. There was sweetness in this kiss like no other I had ever experienced. A kiss has a language all of its own this one spoke of need, desire, and a drawing together that could only end in fulfilment.

Isn't experience a wonderful thing? At this stage I could have hurried things along but instead I slowed down. In the words of old Blue Eyes 'Nice and easy does it every time.' I'm so glad that I listened to his advice.

For the next ten minutes or so (who's counting?) I allowed my hands to caress Sam's torso. Coming up from beneath her button down shirt to cross her abdomen then slowly and lightly let my fingers drift around to her spine from where her cute butt protruded above her jeans, slowly counting my way up her vertebrae till midway between her shoulder blades, surprise surprise! No bra strap! My fingers made their curiosity driven way around her body to the sides of two very firm, very smooth breasts. Definitely no bra!

Stop right there Jim, save the best bits for later. 

My fingers again slowly descended across her abdomen rippling over a tight six-pack. Sam was breathing hard and squirming in my lap, my turgid manhood straining against my pants trying find that delicious groove between her butt cheeks. Meanwhile my fingers had made their way down the outside of her jeans clad thighs and were now describing a slowly circling rise up the inside of her parted legs toward the object of my desire then stopping short and moving back down. All this time Sam's breathing had become heavier, her body shuddering with need.

Suddenly without warning she jumped up out of my lap to stand before me, breasts heaving hips thrust forward eyes blazing with lust and something more; a hint of mischief. Her tongue lasciviously licked slowly across her lips as she leaned toward me till I could not help seeing down her shirt to where two glorious orbs showed why she did not need a bra.

Sam was showing me that two could play the teasing game.

'You are right about the wine.' She said. 'It has released my inhibitions. So this is where I get to fulfil two of my favourite fantasies.'

'What might they be Sam?'

'First things first.' She replied. 'I've always wanted to do a strip.'

Without awaiting a reply she walked over to the stereo, her hips swaying provocatively as she went. She pressed a couple of buttons then returned to stand before me again as the music of The Police filled the room. Then while the soaring voice of Sting sang. 'Every breath you take, every move, you make, I'll be watching you.' Sam began, little by little, to unbutton her shirt. As each button became undone a little more of her body became uncovered, a little more of her firm breasts was revealed. As each button became undone Sam sensuously leaned toward me then straightened, turned, weaving her hips as she did so, then began unfastening the next button. Till button by button her shirt was open to her waist partially revealing two very firm breasts. She reached up and lifted the shirt over her bare shoulders; the only things holding the shirt in place now was two very roused very firm nipples.

Sting was singing. 'How my poor heart aches with every breath you take.' When Sam shrugged her shoulders and the shirt fell from her torso to pool at her feet while every breath she took caused her lightly perspiring, totally perfect, breasts to swell before my eyes. Breasts that were so firm that neither sag nor ripple occurred as she moved. Breasts with light pink aureole from which arose firm nipples. Samantha had easily the best breasts that I had ever seen. When you've been around the planet for sixty years you can say you've seen your share of boobs.




Freedom



You might think that it would be difficult to remove a pair of jeans with any degree of sensuality; and you'd be completely wrong! Sam used the same technique undoing the top button as she had with her shirt. A slow turn displayed a sensuous curve of spine before once again facing me. Nothing was slow about the way she unfastened the zipper. The zzzzz as it was undone demonstrated why it is called a zipper. Then her hips began to gyrate as she raised her arms above her head allowing the jeans to slide down of their own volition revealing smooth strong thighs, dimpled knees, long tapering calves and above all of these, dark grey briefs that displayed a sexy camel toe. I couldn't help noticing the small damp patch that defined the lips of her sex.

Now that Samantha stood before me wearing nothing but a pair of slightly damp grey briefs I found that my own breath was sawing in my throat and my cock was rock hard. Sam's strip was beyond sensual and lascivious. It was womanhood at its most desirable, demanding the attention that it so richly deserved. But she was not quite finished yet. She hooked her thumbs into both sides of her panties and whilst sensuously gyrating her hips she eased them down, gradually revealing firstly a light thatch of pubic hair then the lips of her sex that glistened with the moisture that came from within. Again she slowly turned before me arching her back as she did so, displaying the kind of bubble butt that men fantasize about.

This time when Sam turned to face me she reached down and took my hands to draw me to my feet. My erect penis was forming a distinct tent in my jeans, but there was nothing I could do about that. It certainly wasn't going away. We stood with barely a hand span between us as Sam whispered. 'Now I get to fulfil my second fantasy.'

'What would that be Sam?'

'I get to strip a man.'

Sting and The Police had fallen silent as Sam unbuttoned my shirt kissing my chest as she did so. I followed suit kissing her breasts and running my tongue across her hardened nipples. This brought a gasp from her, so I saw no reason to stop as she unfastened my jeans and with a light tug they pooled around my feet. The tent in my boxer shorts could no longer be denied. Not only was it rock hard, but also like Sam's underwear, mine had a damp patch where pre-cum was leaking from me.

'Wow! Did I do that?' Sam asked.

'You and only you.' I replied. 'And you and only you can deal with it.'

'Oooh yesss please.' Sam gasped then hooking her thumbs into my waistband she began lowering my shorts. She had quite a degree of difficulty getting the waistband over my erection dragging it down till it sprang free to strike her on the chin. It stood hard and proud before her, she gazed at it in wonder as if she'd never seen one before. Which was in part true.

'You are uncircumcised.' She said. 'Don had been cut. This is the first time that I've seen a foreskin!'

'It is a day of firsts for you Sam. Don't be afraid of it. Hold it and move the foreskin back and forward.'

This Sam did. There was joy and amazement in her eyes as she watched my foreskin slithering back and forward across my glans, the smoothness of the action seemed to fascinate her. She dipped her forefinger into the clear moisture and asked. 'What's this?'

'That my love is pre-cum. It is just another effect that you've had on me. It will mix with the moisture from your pussy to make things smoother when we make love.'

'That never happened between Don and I. We were always both dry when we had sex.'

I noted that she never said, 'Made love.' And it did not surprise me. Don obviously did not make love to his wife. He simply used her as a form of masturbation. Well that was about to change. I took her into my arms. This time it was I who initiated the kiss. I drew her to me so that her breasts were pressed into my chest and my erection into her abdomen. My kiss was demanding, my tongue thrusting in and out of her mouth spoke of my need. As we parted we were both breathing heavily, Sam's eyes were afire her breasts heaving as I said. 'We need to take this to bedroom.'

Once on her bed our kiss resumed from where it had left off but there was a degree of hesitancy from Samantha, which caused me to wonder if she was having second thoughts. 'Is there a problem Sam?' I asked.

'No problem.' She replied. 'But I thought that we would be having sex by now.'

Suddenly I understood. 'You and Don never had foreplay.' I stated.

'No.'

'So it was just wham bang thankyou Ma-am?'

'More or less.' She replied. 'Without the thankyou Ma-am.'

'Then both you and Don were missing out on some of the best bits of making love. The bits that define the difference between making love and having sex.'

The hesitancy was gone when she pulled my head closer to her delightful breasts, which I kissed at first gently then firmly, running her nipples from side to side between my teeth. This brought groans of pleasure from Sam who laced her fingers through my hair to push my head from one breast to the other. Her whole body was becoming tense as I broke free of her grasp and began to trail my lips down across her abdomen toward her sex.

Again Sam hesitated then before I could ask said. 'I don't know if I will like this. Don never tried it.'

'Well, you know how good it felt riding the motor bike?'

'Yes.'

'Then let me assure you that this is a whole lot better.'

Her only reply was 'Wow!' when my tongue caressed across her clitoris, which stood firmly peeking from its protective hood. Her Vagina was soaking so that as my finger slipped easily inside her and I crooked the end of it to stroke her g-spot, again she gasped 'Wow!' Then Wooow...Wooow...Woooow!' as he body arched up toward me and her hips began bucking. I continued to caress the lips of her honey-coated pussy whilst kissing her while her orgasm slowly subsided.

There was wonder in her eyes as she said. 'This has been a day of firsts for me. There is no need for me to ask what that was. It was an orgasm!! And you are sooo right. It is way better than riding on a motorbike.' Sam's lips made little fluttering movements as she began to kiss her way down my chest toward my abdomen. I stopped her; lifted her face toward mine and said.

' You can do beautiful things for me later but today is all about you Samantha.' Once again we kissed, this time tenderness was mixed with passion. There was also tenderness in my touch as I caressed her breasts while I whispered in her ear. 'Your breasts are just perfect. They look perfect they feel perfect, they taste divine.' Then as my fingers moved down her body. ' I just love the way that my fingers ripple over your tummy; the texture of the skin between your thighs is so soft, so smooth. Your pussy is beautiful it has lips that beg to be kissed; it seeps the sweetest honey.' As she parted her legs I raised myself over her. 'Now Samantha; we are not going to have sex. We will be making love.'

Sam's breath was sawing in her throat; she was trembling with need as she reached down between us to guide me into her. I barely penetrated her then withdrew slightly before sliding back into her this time slightly deeper then continued thus, each stroke slightly deeper than the last. Her pussy was so hot, so smooth and so tight that it took an enormous effort of willpower to not plunge all the way in. Samantha was definitely designed for making love. I could feel the walls of her vagina clasping at me as I slowly slid in and out of her.

By the time I had the full length of my steel hardness inside her, Sam was thrusting her hips up toward me in an unspoken request to go harder, faster and deeper. I responded, thrusting myself faster deeper harder into her honeyed depths our bodies held firmly together, Sam's beautiful breasts crushed against my heaving chest, her legs raised and wrapped around me so that we moved as one faster, harder, faster harder. Till our world became a whirling storm of pleasure; a storm that simply could not be denied, a storm that Sam had been storing up inside herself for all of her life; a storm that now broke as a shattering orgasm tore through her. As she cried out my name, Jiiim! I could no longer hold back as my seed pulsed into her.

Later we lay in each other's arms whilst the soft aftermath of making love tingled through our bodies Sam sighed deeply then spoke. 'Jim darling, I have never felt so good or so happy or so free. You wonderful man; now what on earth can you do for me that might begin to compare with what you've done today?'

I thought for a moment before replying. 'Well I have a sailboat and I know a perfect little desert island where you really can be completely free.'

End



Freedom Acres



The evening started out innocent enough. Once again the promise was only to dance. No pressure on Lilith to having sex with another woman or couple. We would just dance as erotic as we could muster. If anyone was interested in joining us, so be it, but there would be no pressure.

Last time we were at Freedom Acres Lily got a dance floor thrill when, as we danced, a woman, Hispanic but about Lily's height, came up from behind and took her right there. The floor was packed, the music load. I don't know how long the woman had her sights on my wife. At first she rubbed Lily's back, the slid her hands around to Lily's breasts while pressing her own into Lily's back. She unbuttoned Lily's translucent blouse and exposed everything to everyone. Lily arched her arm around to the back to the woman's head and they both swayed side-to-side to the music. She lifted the Mrs.'s short pleated skirt, and started rubbing Lily's panti-less pussy. 

Now I just watched giving no regard to my dance steps. I noticed a few other women started to pair up in similar fashion. The boys, like me, stayed clear and just watched. 

Lily arched back and it looked like she put all her weight on the woman that was giving her pleasure. As she petted more vigorously and occasionally inserted a finger or two Lily started to shake. Her breathing was labored and quick. She had a kind of Tina Turner stance as she approached the precipice. Up, down, side-to-side they went to the music as the tension rose in Lily. She growled and her knees buckled and she came. She didn't collapse but it was obvious she could not sustain the orgasm and standing at the same time for very long. 

She rung the last of the orgasm out her, turned and laid a passionate kiss on the woman. Lily grabbed my hand and we joined this woman, her husband and a few others for further adventures in the back rooms.

On this night though, Lily wore her black shorts that make her butt look great: round and firm. Her top was a white, loose crossover. Her dark nipples shown through like shadows on a shear window curtain. Though many at this lifestyle dance were topless or even naked at the get-go, we prefer some subtlety. Almost showing is much more erotic.

We were the only couple on the dance floor to begin with. It was still kind of early. Lily and I formed to each other just like we spoon in bed. I would run my hands along her breasts pulling gently at the blouse. Lily's nipples were now hard...she was "stealing raisins." From behind I nuzzled and kissed her neck, while my hand slid along her crouch. Lily tilted her head back, then raised her arms and angled them behind my head. My other hand pulled away the blouse exposing a breast -- perfectly round with light Polynesian brown skin. Lily had been sunbathing nude so for now no bathing suit borders. 

Others began to dance to the hip-hop music now. At first just a trickle of folks followed us onto the dance floor. One couple who we'd seen when entering the club danced very close to us...too close for the number of people. She wore a white dress with silver sequined edges. It was sleeveless and the hem barely covered her vitals. She was young and dark for a Caucasian. She had low profile braces on her teeth! She had really nice stems in high-heal pumps. He was older, maybe late 40's, somewhat overweight but dressed nicely in slacks and a Tommy Bahama shirt worn outside.

As we danced they would mimic Lily and me. He turned her to face us and ran his hand along his partner's breasts. He flashed them now and again. They were small and gorgeous. She had sharp edged nipples that made perfect circles and had a youthful puffiness. She raised her hand behind his head. She would grind her pelvis while using him to stabilize her dance. 

She stared, silently urging with her eyes for Lily to come to her, feel her, kiss her. Before I could bring the forbidden pressure to bear, Lily shimmed over with me in tow. Their clothed breasts met. They embraced and kissed while he and I swayed behind our respective mates. Later we would come to learn that this was Vicki and Dan.

Lily moved Vicki's dress to expose her breast. It was young, somewhat rectangular and soft. I ran my hand round it. Likewise Dan cupped and squeezed Lily through her blouse. I shifted Lily's blouse to expose her boob and Vicki bent to suckle. Dan continued to play with the other side. Lily had one hand covering Vicki's pussy and was massaging her love from outside her dress.

Lily twirled so she was between Vicki and Dan. Now, I was behind Vicki and it was a nice behind. She pressed her cheeks into me. My cock was hard but restrained in a downward direction due to my pants. In all this action no one would be watching me so in one quick motion I reached in and pull him up. Ahhhhhh.

My attention returned to the game at hand. The dance floor was now a convention of barely dressed bodies all swirling around us in their own small groups of pleasure and ecstasy. Obscured to everyone except those immediately adjacent, we continued our play.

Lily, in her new position between Dan and Vicki, put her hand behind Vicki's neck under her barely shoulder-length, straight, light-brown hair. Lily went for a very passionate kiss, tongue deep and lively. My cock, in its new position was feeling the pressure of V's butt and the vision of their kiss made it throb. I pulled away to relieve the tension that was about to burst.

They disengaged from the kiss and Lily bent for her turn on V's right breast. I could see the smear of lipstick on V's areola. Lily's left hand went back to V's pussy outside her dress. I wondered if Vicki wore underwear. V convulsed, and sighed instantly with the touch. This was a sign of things to come. Somewhat startled Lily moved her hand back to Vicki's shoulder to steady herself as she continue to lick the perfectly round and smooth nipple. Though her nipple puckered due to the stimulation it remained round, only smaller and more pronounced from the breast.

All the while Dan didn't seem as affected as I. He kept in play, his crouch pressed on Lily's behind. They freak danced as Lily continued with Vicki. Dan's left hand pulled Lily's blouse open so that both boobs were out pointing down at gravity's insistence. He slid his hand over a breast, then lightly brushed back and forth along Lily's rock-hard nipple.

Dan opened a gap between him and Lily's bottom. His right hand groped along between the checks of her derrière until his forefinger landed on her pussy from the outside of her shorts. He agitated in the vicinity of her clitoris. Now, Lily moaned. A trickle rolled down her inner-thigh.

Lily's hand came off V's shoulder. She reached behind her self. Guided by D's leg she crept up to his crouch. There from the outside of his pants she found his shaft. It was hard but like me earlier held down by his underwear. Lily grabbed hold and stroked his penis in violent downward motion.

Still holding on V's left breast Lily reattached her lips to the other side. I was stunned at her aggressiveness. She was clearly enjoying Dan's attention and the passion she was inspiring in Vicki. I was angling to get re-involved.

All-at-once though, the music stopped. The party host stepped up on the stage to make an announcement of some sort. Vicki, Lily, and Dan straightened and recovered. Unfortunately I could not rejoin in time.

Lily and I went back to our table. V& D gathered their drinks from their table and joined us. It was now we learned their names and where they came from (Long Beach).

We had light conversation but Lily wanted to cut-to-the-chase. She asked if V&D had ever been to this party before and if they'd seen the back rooms yet. As it turned out this was their first time at this club. So we offered a tour. The girls went to the rest room to prep. Dan and I grabbed some towels and waited.

In past visits nobody went to the back rooms until late. Then, as you walked around you could watch all manner of love-making. Groups of couples intertwined, women giving blow jobs, men licking pussy, women licking pussy, everyone sucking nipples and the cacophony of slapping flesh and orgasmic cries.

As we entered the play rooms this time though, there was no one. It was way too early. We made stops at the various alcoves in the maze of rooms. Lily showed us the "no street clothes" room, the double-decker beds, and the cubby holes that fit just one pair of humans. In all the areas people could stand and watch the activities but now there was no one to watch. We might just be the first show.

We settled on a second floor room, lined with king sized beds with adjacent twins running perpendicular. There was a water fountain and that sealed the deal for us.

Lily started things off after a bit of small talk. We were seated around the corner of the bed and Dan was standing. Lily ran her hand up Vicki's back, nuzzled and gave a short kiss on her neck. Leaning away she crossed her arms and lifted her blouse over her head. Dan was transfixed. He obviously was a hooter aficionado like me. There they were, firm, round and dark. Lily's circular nipples are darker but fade into her breasts along the edges of the areola. Dan was about to reach for them when Vicki who was also enjoying Lily's boobs when she stood, reached the hem of her dress and in one motion removed it like a shirt. Talk about your entrance. 

In an instant she was naked and oh how naked. Vicki was thin but not boney. She had curvy hips that sprang from a tiny waste. Her breasts as I said before were small but beautiful. They were almost raised soft-edge squares that bulged on the outside. A crease in her tight body lead from between her breast to her diamond belly button piercing. Below that was a completely shaved pussy. She was young, say early 20's, her skin new and smooth. She stepped out of her pumps and push Lily over on her back just as she had finished taking off her shorts. Vicki fell between Lily's legs and suckled her breast as she lay on top. 

Lily rolled Vicki over and ran her finger into Vick's pussy and her mouth on the closest breast. Without so much as a how-dy-do, Vicki came. I'd haven't seen an orgasm this quick since a girlfriend of mine in college. It startled Lily. Dan explained then and there that Vicki was "very sensitive." 

While Dan and I removed our trousers and shirts Vicki rolled on top of Lily and over to where both girls were on their backs, side-by-side. I mounted the bed next to Vicki. Lily sucked her nearest breast and I ran my hand along Vicki's smooth torso to her cleft. There I started pressing and circling Vicki's clit. I heard the quick rise of orgasm but something bugged her. She pulled my hand away. I don't know if it was fear of Dan being jealous or I was doing something wrong but I didn't pursue it. Soon Lily's finger replaced mine and V began to come again. Lily was clearly enjoying this. 

After the second instant-orgasm, with me kneeling next to the intertwined girls Dan encouraged Vicki to suck my fully engorged cock. She demurred. I think it was too new and freaky for her. Lily told her to only do what she liked, that I would be cool. Of course I was cool, but I certainly wouldn't have minded. I was on my knees my penis sticking out over Vicki's chest, well within reach, but it was not to be. 

Vicki again mounted on top of Lily, playing with her breasts and kissing. Her body angled up from her head to butt, her knees to either side of Lily. She let me feel her bottom without objection. It was like Lily's breasts: round, firm with a bit of give provided by a thin layer of fat under the skin. It was heavenly.

Lily's legs were spread. Dan preferred to stay up top with the girls so I dove in. What a fantastic scene. I was chewing on Lily while between Vicki's legs, which straddled Lily's hips, I could see Vicki holding and sucking one of Lily's breasts and Dan on the other. Lily's hand and forefinger were stroking Vicki's labia to one side. With some strain I could see this action which was nearly above my head. 

Lily began her more gradual but deliberate climb to orgasm. Her breathing became heavy. Her fingers moved faster around Vicki's pussy, knees twitching. Then the rush of trumpets came from her mouth and a slippery gush of natural lubricant flowed from her crevice. It was an exquisite crescendo. I nearly came just hearing it, feeling it. 

I hadn't realized it until that moment the Lily had a hold of Dan's penis and was milking it uncontrollably through her orgasm. He and I were on par as far as size but he had dark untrimmed hair. Lily pulled the cock toward her and just gave it a little kiss.

As Lily's orgasm faded Dan step away probably because like me he was on the edge. I too surrendered my position to see where we were going next. 

Lily pushed Vicki over on her back, mounted her by her pelvis, and then slid down passed her knees. Lily pushed Vicki's legs up and separated them. Lily went down for a taste of this hairless mound. I could see from my once again kneeling position Lily's tongue dart into the crease and around the clitoris. I was really, really impressed. I watched Lily as I felt Vicki's glorious tits. Dan again encouraged her to suck me or at least grab my cock. Again though, she didn't. Dan bent over Lily and with his cock along the line of her cheeks reached up and held both of Lily's boobs. Vicki sprang to life and came again. This time with an extended vocal aria. If there had been anyone around it would have been the hit of the ball.

Lily was ok with Dan's all-encompassing grip but did not want to have his cock in her. That was our rule. Neither Vicki nor Dan challenged this. But Lily was ready to fuck. She stood straight and came away from Dan and Vicki straight to me. I was now on my back but slanted on my elbows. Lily turned around and shimmied up to my mid-section, backwards! I wasn't sure her objective at first. It turned out to be a tactical move to include Vicki in my climax. Lily grabbed my cock, inserted it in her and leaned back on my chest. She rolled her pelvis to tease my sensitive cock into submission. Vicki took the bait and straddled Lily and me. At first she sucked on Lily's tits while thrusting along with our movements. Then the clincher: she took a hold of Lily's head by the ears and laid a passionate French kiss on Lily. Through the fog of war I could see the breasts and nipples pressing, glistening lips roiling, hair bouncing, and the synchronous pelvis's swaying. I was defenseless. No turning away or thoughts of baseball would prevent me from coming. So I did. Usually, my orgasms are more of grunt but this time as my cock imploded then exploded my yell was like that of the Rough Rider's charge up San Juan hill. Lily stiffened and moaned into Vicki's mouth. She was rigid as she also came.

Vicki dismounted towards Dan who'd watched all this. Lily and I decompressed in our slanted position. Vicki angled her pussy towards Dan's cock and he inserted in a doggy style, perpendicular to Lily and me. Lily and slumped in our upward facing spoon. Dan reached over Vicki's back and played with Lily's breast. And now, I guess since we knew each other and since Vicki's head was so close, she pulled my cock from Lily and started pumping it. I was pretty spent but I didn't mind. She, to my surprise, starting kissing my somewhat limp penis, mimicking Lily's previous engagement with Dan's. I couldn't see this of course, other than auxiliary motions but I could definitely feel it. Her face was essentially buried in Lily's lap below which was my cock. The object here I believe was to tease Dan into submission. 

Lily sat forward and motioned Dan and Vicki into another position.

The doggie style changed to Dan on his back and woman-on-top style. Vicki rolled her pelvis forward and back not up and down. It was heavenly. Lily kneeled between Dan's legs. She pressed her breasts into Vicki's back and held both of the smallish breasts from behind. Once again Lily was caressing Vicki's neck with her tongue. Lily let one boob go and fingered Vicki's clit while they pulsated along Dan. Vicki's head leaned back into Lily. She dropped one arm back and found Lily's waiting pussy. She rubbed Lily's tired clitoris and then inserted a finger. 

Dan exploded as if he was getting jolted by a defibrillator. Vicki immediately followed. She let go of Lily, moved her hand to Dan's belly, stiffened and lifted slightly. Her body had a seized. She grimaced and let out a mild cry. Together they collapsed. Lily was very proud of herself.

As the panting died out we talked a bit, got dressed and went our separate ways. D&V may have come back to the play rooms later that evening but Lily and I were tired. We hit the Jacuzzi for awhile but then dressed and went home. 

One regret: why in the hell didn't we get their phone number!!!