0 comments/ 11112 views/ 3 favorites The Singer By: Jan M. Well, it was a rainy night. The type of setting one sees in the movies. Rain pouring down steadily. Not cold, just wet. And the gloomy darkness engulfed man, concrete and machine in its clammy shroud. I knew she was there, because I've seen her tracking my steps many times before. It intrigued me, almost to a point of annoyance. She was like a chilled breeze on a summer's day, a sudden squall on a calm sea - an enigma. I had no idea who she was. Where she came from, what her name was, why she was out there watching me. She was pretty, very attractive. She glided along in the shadows with a slow gait, sensuality in motion. Was she a cop? Why not walk over and ask her, one could ask, but somehow something held me back from doing so - something eerie-like. I suddenly spotted her. In the shadows. Following me. Well, not following me as such, but keeping pace with me as if she wanted to let me know of her presence. Almost as if she wanted me to saunter over and scold her for being my second shadow. But why, I desperately wondered, why me? She wore a long, black coat, buttoned down to just below her waistline. I could see the pale gleam of her legs as she walked. It incited me and I could feel an involuntary stirring in my loins. Her dark hair was partially covered by a scarf - a blood-red scarf. One could perhaps blame my next move on the two beers I have had after work, but I suddenly had a strong urge to see her eyes - to talk to her. To find out. She could be a serial killer for all I knew. Prowling the streets, looking for men to quench a deeply rooted hatred, stemming from a bad experience she had had in the past. I shivered at the thought, but I had to know. Tonight. I hesitantly crossed the street, afraid she might be scared off by my action. The rain had stopped. She stood in the shadows underneath a street lamp. And yes, she actually waited for me to catch up! As I approached her, I could feel my pulse quickening, my hart beating faster. Excitement bubbled inside me like the frothing head of a freshly poured beer, but there was also a nagging feeling of something close to fear. But, she carried a sensual aura of such magnitude, that my legs kept on walking - my eyes glued to her shadowy figure there on the corner of Fagan and Bartlett Streets. My apartment was barely thirty meters away. A tiny smile greeted me. I opened my mouth to speak, but she immediately raised a gloved forefinger to her lips, silencing me with that simple gesture. She took my hand and spoke only three words. "Take me home." Her voice was soft and musical. I was unable to think of a sensible reply and started walking again. She hooked her arm through mine. I could only just see her profile in the streetlight's glimmer. Full lips, delicate nose, sculptured eyebrows. I noticed her legs again as they were periodically revealed by her coat flaps. Beautiful legs. The urge to slide my hand up them towards her womanhood, was overwhelming. She kept her silence. I unlocked the front door - a thousand questions raced through my mind, but I was unable to ask a single one. It was as though I was thunderstruck, almost mesmerized by this enigmatic figure beside me, by her aura of sheer womanliness, sheer sensuality. She spoke again as we entered the hallway. "No lights, please. A candle is enough." I found one in the kitchen and bumped my head against a cupboard as I bent over to light it. The blow jolted me from my stupor. "Who are you?" I blurted out as I entered the living room. "Why follow me? Why did you choose....?" "Shh... So many questions, so many answers, so little time. My name is Shannah Wilken," she interrupted. "No more questions, please. Come to me," she invited softly and held out her gloved hands. The candle threw playful shadows over her upturned face. She was striking. Her eyes were blueish-green and once mine locked with hers, it was as if all my questions and fears just faded away. All that remained was the knowledge that this woman, this beautiful stranger, offered me her body - the utmost gift any woman can ever give to a man. I didn't know why she chose me, but I didn't care anymore. Her lips were full and moist. She darted her tongue into my mouth when my hands found their way inside her long, black coat. Her legs felt like warm silk. My hands moved slowly upwards and it came as a slight shock to realize she only wore a bra and panties. They were of the old-fashioned type, not as small and revealing like today's. Her lips acquired a new urgency when I removed her coat. She gave a slight moan. Her bra dropped to the floor and I took hold of her breasts. They were full and firm. I broke the kiss and moved my lips down the side of her throat - downwards, until they reached those magnificent breasts. She unbuttoned my shirt as I slowly licked her cherry-like nipples. They stiffened from my gentle administrations. I bit down slightly on the left one and she gave a small cry of pleasure. Her fingers tugged softly at my own nipples. I felt pleasure ripple through me. My jeans became too tight for my, by now rock hard, penis. I kept on smearing her breasts with saliva. My hands moved downwards again, over her flat tummy, down to her panties - inside her panties. Her pubic hair was soft and already wet from her secretions. I slid my hand over her vaginal lips. It was like touching soft and warm butter. Her breath was hot in my neck - almost ragged from desire. I dropped down on my knees and gently tugged her panties down. My eyes were used to the light now and I gasped as her swollen labia emerged. I stared in awe at those pink petals and my own desire became almost unbearable. Her clitoris stood erect and I moved my forefinger in circular movements over it. She opened her legs even more. She grabbed the back of my head and pulled it towards her womanhood. I smelled her slight muskiness as my tongue came in contact with her folds. I slowly traced those lips, up and around and back again to her clitoris. I pressed my upper lip against it and pushed my tongue inside. Her legs buckled slightly as sheer ecstasy shot through her body and she cried out loudly. My tongue snaked back and forth and by now she was soaked. My penis was so swollen, that it felt like bursting from my jeans. She suddenly broke away and pulled me upwards. In a flash my pants and underpants were lying on the floor, releasing my swollen member like a coiled snake. She took it in her mouth. She moved her head backwards and forwards, sucking as she did so. My legs trembled and I realized that an orgasm was close if I did not stop her in time. I pushed head away, took her shoulders and lowered her onto the thick carpet. Her body gleamed like ivory in the candlelight. We were both breathing in gasps as I moved down onto her soft, yielding body. Her eager hands took my penis and guided it home. I slid up all the way and she moaned loudly. It was like dipping it into a heated furnace. Her vaginal muscles contracted around my shaft as I rammed it in as deep as I could. Our rhythmic gasps were almost in unison as I slid my penis back and forth in its oiled sheath. She was wildly kissing me, groaning and making other strange little noises as our bellies slapped together. I felt her body tighten. She screamed at the top of her voice. Her legs locked behind my back and she arched backwards as a massive orgasm shook her entire being. That was enough to trigger my own. A few seconds later my sperm shot in hot, sticky jets into her pussy. We rested for a little while and then she got up. She said she wanted to take a shower. I was still glowing in the aftermath of our lovemaking and remained where I was. She was fully dressed when she came out again. I protested, asking her not to leave, but she was adamant. I even detected a sense of restlessness in her. "OK, but please, can I see you again tomorrow?" "Perhaps, perhaps not." "Why perhaps..?" "I'm a singer and do not always have the time. Don't worry, I will find you again, Lover." With that she gave me a lingering kiss and went out the front door. As the door closed, I suddenly felt cold - almost afraid. And there was a faint smell in the air of something I could not place. A few days passed without a trace of her. Each night I patrolled the streets, cursing my stupidity for not having asked her address. But Shannah was not to be seen. I desperation I phoned a friend of mine who was a music critic at a newspaper and asked him if he had ever heard of a singer called Shannah Wilken. "Oh yes. She was destined to become a major star," he replied. My gut tightened as he spoke. It was then that I smelled something strange again. The same odour as when she left me that night. "Why speak in the past tense?" I asked haltingly. "The poor girl died in a car crash in 1965. My God! Now that I think of it, it was close to where you stay! On the corner of Fagan and Bartlett Streets. Is there any reason for your asking?" "Never mind." I put the phone down, trembling violently as I did so. I recognised the smell for what it was - the smell of death. The Singer Last night the singer called. She was crying and when I asked her what was wrong she said she got a phone call from her father telling her that her mother had slipped into a coma and could I please come over and stay with her a little while. I said sure. I had a hell of a time finding parking in the singers' neighborhood. It was Friday night. I parked near the Wharf and had an unfair walk to the singers' apartment. When I arrived she was wearing a bath towel and her hair was wet and combed back. She immediately thrust a mixed drink into my hand when I walked in the door. I took a sip and coughed. "Jesus Christ!" I said. "What the hell is in here? Moonshine?" She did not answer and shut the door behind me and put her head to my chest and began to cry. At first her sobs came gently and her shoulders slightly heaved as she tried to hold back, but eventually her sobbing began to intensify until she was actually wailing. I did my best to console her and after she pulled away I took a big swallow from the drink she gave me. Her wailing was unnerving. It is hard to describe, but it had a primal quality, like a scream you might hear from an animal. I hope this does not come across as insensitive, but it was a sound I do not know if I will ever be able to forget. Just like the sound of crushing metal and breaking glass. Just like the sound of a car crash. She excused herself to her bathroom and told me to make myself comfortable. I took off my shoes and hung my coat on the back of one of her kitchen chairs, then put more ice in my drink and sat on her leather sofa. She had on cable TV and one of the music channels was having a countdown of some kind, naming a specific release as Rocks greatest recording. Now, personally, I liked the choice, however, in terms of the greatest Rock recording, I can think of many others. I was somewhat distracted when the singer joined me on the sofa. I leaned over, took the remote, and turned off the television. "Thanks for coming over." She said. "No problem. I'm sorry to hear about your mother." We talked for awhile and the singer told me to finish my drink and that she would make me a fresh one. I told her I was fine and she said for me to suit myself and then went into the kitchen and returned with a wooden cutting board that had a full glass balanced on top as well as two whole apples and a big knife. The glass wobbled and the apples rolled around as she made her way to the table. I stood to help her. "Sit down!" She yelled. The tone in her voice startled me. She sounded so angry it seemed out of place. She sat down next to me and raised her glass in the air. "Here's to us hot heads." I raised my glass and took a sip. "C'mon" She said. "Drink like a man." I watched her, and did not know quite what to do, I downed the entire drink. "Good boy." I sat my glass on the table and leaned back against the sofa. It felt cool and soothing and smelled like the inside of an expensive car. My head was beginning to swim. The singer picked up the big knife and chopped both apples in two, sending them scooting across the table. I did not even try to lean forward and help her. She laughed and handed me two halves. "Have an apple." I chewed on my halves and listened to her tell me how she was glad her mother was hurt. She was glad she was in the hospital and actually hoped she would die. I asked her if she was joking. "Am I joking about what?" "About wishing your mother was dead." "I didn't say that." I checked myself and thought hard before answering. "Yes you did." I whispered. "My goodness, you are really drunk. No more for you." It is true that I was very drunk, but I know what I had heard and I did not know whether to continue to feel sorry for her, and before I could sort out what was going on, she began crying again, this time laying her head in my lap. I stroked her hair and told her that everything was going to be fine. Her face was warm and pressed right against my crotch, and I could not help but get aroused. I felt ashamed, but when I tried to move from under her she grabbed onto my legs and kept crying. My head was throbbing and her breath was warm and before I could protest the singer unzipped my pants and took me inside her mouth. Her motion re-sparked the awareness that is possible for me to temporarily leave my mundane shell. For several moments I soared among the stars. After I climaxed she raised her face and began kissing me hard. I tried to speak, but she kissed me harder. She then began caressing me with one hand as she held the big knife by the blade in her other hand, pressing its handle against my arm. After I was hard again, she took me by the hand, and when we got into the bedroom, she let the knife and her bathrobe fall to the floor. She had a body like a painting. She looked beautiful. I undressed and she lay down on the floor next to the butcher knife, spreading her knees apart. She began to masturbate, instructing me to get a condom from the nightstand drawer under the clock. I rolled it on and knelt next to her. "Don't just watch! Fuck me! Goddamn it! Fuck me!" I did what I was told. And as I was thinking about allowing myself to climax she pushed me off her and got on top, thrusting herself up and down furiously. I climaxed and she kept thrusting. After I went limp, she stopped and I pulled out. I removed my condom, and she sat on top of me laughing. The Singer "How was that?" she asked "Wonderful love, absolutely wonderful," replied Mike before continuing "that's a wrap, all done, no need for a second take, Christ you're good, makes my job a fuck load easier, I'm thoroughly fed up with the string of second rate wannabe session singers I keep getting sent, gotta be said, I'm keeping you." "Aww thanks," Jayne replied, although, just playing up to him. She knew she was good, she knew she was a professional and far and away the best in the business, but enjoyed the compliments nonetheless "So," she continued "who does a girl have to suck off to get a drink in this place?" she asked candidly. "Usually it's the studio monkey Tom, but he's not in today, so I guess it'll be me" Mike replied, giving her a sly wink. The thought of what he was suggesting sent a shiver through Jayne, it was clear he fancied her, but also himself, and he gave her the distinct impression that he expected them to have sex, which was never gonna happen, as good looking as he was, Jayne was always one for the mind of a man. "Here you are love," Mike said, handing her a can of Diet Coke, "how about we take this into the lounge area?" "I don't think so," Jayne quickly replied, looking around for her coat, "if its job done, I'll just have my money and be off, got plans for later" Mike clearly looked disgruntled, but grudgingly handed over the agreed fee, "See ya then," he said, "I'll keep you in mind for future projects." "Thanks," Jayne replied, "I'll look forward to it," knowing full well he wouldn't ask for her again. As good and professional as she was, Mike only wanted the second and third-rate singers, because he gave them a false hope of going further, if going down on him became a reality. She headed back to the car, jumped in and eagerly leant over to the glove compartment, unlocking it and opening to check her mobile phone, but an air of disappointment breezed over her as the display showed no new messages, so she started the car and headed off. Back home, everyone was out, Jayne headed into the office and logged onto the computer. Heading straight for the 'Favourites' list and choosing 'Literotica'. Logging in, her face lit up and heart skipped a beat as she saw 4 Unread messages waiting in her Private Messages. Upon opening the Inbox, she scanned the list, 1 from 'Spanner_Man', 1 from 'Cock4U', and then what she wanted to see, 2 from 'MonkeyMan'. Ignoring the first two, she clicked on message one from 'MonkyMan', it read 'Hi Jayne Just a quick note, you have really captured my mind and imagination, I know we've never really talked at length, but I can't stop thinking about you, hope to speak soon. Jon xxx' Smiling, Jayne clicked to return the Inbox and looked and his second message 'Hi again You're gonna think I'm stalking you, if I'm becoming a pest just say. Hope your workload isn't too much for you. Would love for you to text me, you have my number if you want to. With you in my mind Jon xxx' Jayne thought for a minute, things weren't great at home, in fact she was on the verge of leaving her husband, "I'll text him," she decided, and reached for her phone. She tapped out a message and pressed send, pausing only to look at an earlier message from Jon to find his number, putting it in the destination box, she completed sending the message, then sat back, eagerly anticipating a response. It didn't take long, her phone beeped and flashed as the display read '1 new message'. She opened and read his reply, and although she'd never met him, or even know him at any great length, his words felt warm and natural, somehow, typically him!! She replied, entering into a conversational string of messages, somehow finding herself asking to meet him that night. Almost a soon as the message was sent, her phone rang, 'Jon calling' displayed, "Hello?" Jayne answered nervously "Hi," came the voice, "you really wanna meet tonight?" he continued, Jayne paused, she'd made the offer, but on reflection it was a rather hasty decision, she'd only exchanged a few messages with this guy, she didn't know him from anyone other stranger, but somehow she felt something special with him, she'd felt some strange connection with his name the first time she'd seen it online, there was definitely something there she couldn't explain, "Sure I do silly," she replied, "why on earth would I make an offer if I didn't mean it?" "I apologise," Jon replied, "just seemed very, you know, 'out of the blue', but its fine by me, haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the very first PM you sent me. In fact it's weird, I know you probably won't believe this, but I felt a strange connection with your profile the first time I saw it, but hey," Jayne felt a wave of excitement as the words were processed in her mind, yes it was a cheesy thing to say, and somewhat clichéd, but he'd summed up how her exact thoughts for him, "Do you know the Red Lion?" she cut in, "in Church Street, just past the Police station." "Sure," he said, "about 8 good for you?" he continued "Great," she replied, be fore hurriedly continuing, "gotta go now, see you then, bye." She finished in almost a whisper as the front door opened. "Pete?" she shouted, "Is that you?" "The one and only," came the reply "Hi" she said, "I've had a call for tonight, one of my regular session studios needs a panic commercial recorded, it's due to be aired tomorrow and the booked artist never turned up, I'll be away about half seven, not sure when I'll be back." "Fine, not a problem," Pete replied, "got a ton of work to do myself anyway," and with that headed into the office to start. About quarter past seven, Jayne entered the bedroom to dress for, what was essentially, her blind date. She browsed her wardrobe, eventually selecting a short black skirt, black see-through top, and her favourite black bra. After slipping into her heels, applying a suitable amount of make-up and brushing her hair, she headed out into the evening air, got into the car and headed off. Pulling into the car park, she saw a man ahead of hair looking slightly nervous getting out of his car, and heading into the pub. It was him, she knew it. They hadn't planned on how they would know each other, but she knew it was him. Jayne parked in the space next to his, and got out, feeling a slight pang of nerves, she headed into the pub. Once in, she approached the man at the bar she'd seen leaving the car, and stood next to him, "Jon?" she asked "Wow, Jayne?" he replied, "my god, you are stunning," he continued as he mentally undressed her with his eyes, carefully admiring every inch of her body, her fabulous curves and voluptuousness, not to mention her devastatingly good looks. "You sound surprised," she retorted, slightly offended at the tone of his remarks, but willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He wasn't quite what she'd hoped for in a physical sense, but he had captured her mind and imagination with his Lit posts and stories, and that for her, was the real turn on. "I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean in the way it probably sounded. I've seen your profile picture on the site, but of course didn't know what you looked like - I think an initial spontaneous reaction is surely better than a rehearsed one, at least its honest, and comes without thinking time, hence it's the first thought in my head." "Mmmm," uttered Jayne, "sounds like you're rambling, but yes, you're right, thank you." She knew she was right to give him the benefit of the doubt, she wanted him already. The evening progressed well, just as Jayne had hoped, a little light flirting, some deep thinking conversation and a lot of sexual tension lingering just below the surface. "How about we move on somewhere," Jayne asked, knowing what she wanted to move onto. "Sure, good idea," Jon replied, also wanting to move on, but unsure of just what Jayne getting at, "where do you suggest?" "I know a place," she said, flashing him a smile, "its not far, very quiet and private," she teased, and got up, heading for the door. Jon followed eagerly as Jayne crossed the road down a dark alley, he walked alongside her, desperate to touch her and explore her. After a short distance, Jayne slowed and came to a stop, "Here," she said, "Here?" Jon asked "Yep, here," Jayne continued, opening her handbag and pulling out a set of keys. Jon looked up, the sign above the door read 'Session Studios'. "Come on," she said, opening the door and going inside. Once in, she flipped on a light and headed towards another door with 'Lounge' written on it. "I do a lot of work here," she said, "I here in the morning, and I have a spare set of keys to get in as the recording crew are notorious for being late." "Ah, I see," said Jon, excitement grew inside him, guessing that Jayne hadn't brought him here to demonstrate her singing abilities. He followed her in the 'Lounge', it was a smallish, warm room, fully carpeted with 3 large leather sofas squeezed into. "Now," she said, "you've won me with your mind, show me what else you've got." Jon grabbed her by the hips and pulled her close to him, hey kissed deeply, his hands running over her curves, her breasts pushing against him. She felt him press hard against her ass as he pushed his stiff cock into her. As they parted for air, Jayne let herself fall into one of the sofas, pulling Jon atop of her. The couple continued to kiss, tongues wrestling in their mouths. Jayne felt her nipples harden against the inside of her bra, she could feel the passion build inside her, her pussy getting wetter by the second. Jon moved from kissing her mouth to her neck, gently dragging his teeth across her soft skin. Jayne gasped with pleasure as she felt the sensation of his hard teeth clash with the softness of lips and the heat of his breath on her sensitive neck. His hand moved the length of her clothed body, gently gliding across her collarbone, down over her breasts, then across her stomach and over her pussy, before stroking the naked flesh of her thigh. His touch was gentle, his fingers caressed inner thighs as she opened them slowly, allowing him the opportunity to push her skirt up around her hips, and rest gentle on her g-string covered sex. "I want you," Jayne muttered breathlessly. It had been a long time since anyone had touched her in this way, she was longing to be entered by this man, and for him to make love to her. Jon stood up from the sofa, removing first his shirt, then jeans and underwear. Jayne still fully clothed, sat up on the edge of the sofa, and leaned forward, reaching out for Jon's erection, and with one hand she wrapped her fingers around it, and started to gently wank him, using her other hand to caress his balls. Jon leaned his head back and sighed in satisfaction, but it didn't last long, as felt Jayne release his manhood, and remove her top and bra - her breasts were more beautiful than he imagined. Jayne stood to face Jon, unzipping her skirt and allowing it to fall to the floor. "One more item remains," she said, and sat back down on the sofa, reclining the spread her legs a little. Jon needed invitation, as he dropped to his knees in front of her. Placing one hand on each knee, he slowly slid his hands along her thighs, tracing the outline of her body, over her hips and into her waist, where he placed a finger under each side of her g-string and pulled it towards him. Jayne lifted her bum slightly to allow the garment to leave her body freely, as Jon pulled it away down her legs. In front of him, was a glorious sight, Jayne's shaved pussy, with a small strip of hair running from the top? He moved towards it, gently kissing her thighs on his approach. His lips met hers with a gasp of pleasure from Jayne, his tongue gently caressed the length of her sex, probing slightly at her clitoris. Jayne breathing became heavier as Jon concentrated his tongue on her raised swollen button, circling it gently, teasing her with his fingers, which he pushed into her a little, before pulling them out, each time going just a little bit further. "Enter me, please" Jayne begged, "I want you inside me, I want your cock deep inside me." Jon raised his head, and climbed onto the sofa, Jayne kissed him deeply, as she felt his body between her legs, the head of his cock resting just inside her. He gently pushed into her, she felt his length travel up inside her, his pubic bone press against her clit. "Oh god, " she cried, "that feels so good, so right". Jon buried himself deep inside her, gently sliding in and out of her, pulling out almost entirely before plunging back, deep into her again. He could feel her tight muscles gripping him, her wetness lubricating his dick with every thrust. Jayne loved the feel of him inside her, he pressed into her, pushing his pubic bone hard against her clit, she could feel the orgasm build, it was like electricity flowing through her body. Jon's strokes quickened, increasing the friction on her clit, the power of the impending orgasm was too much and Jayne succumbed to it, gasping as she felt waves of pleasure rushing through her body, her muscles spasming around Jon's cock. She felt his hot cum inside her, oblivious to his orgasm, overtaken by her own feelings, but held him close to her. His arms wrapped tightly around her in response, they lay together for an hour, facing one another, exchanging deep meaningful glances, interspersed with soft kisses. When the embrace did break, Jon spoke, "Can I see you again?" "I'd love to," Jayne replied, "but you know it's complicated." "Yeah, but its gonna be sorted soon though, right?" "It will, " Jayne continued, just give me time, "tonight was magical." The Singer I pay my money and get past the bouncers, probably the last one in. As I enter the club I look around and see it's a vibey place with a fair split men and women, bit dark and smoky and full. Looking forward to a few beers and then work the Barry magic on some ass and home and get laid. Nice. I go to the bar and squeeze in between 2 girls and order a beer. I glance discreetly at the girls and think 'my type, still breathing' and laugh to myself. A blonde walks onto stage, I assume that she's the bands fucktoy as she's really hot, dressed in a tight t-shirt showing her belly ring, and a short skirt with thigh length boots. Her body is firm and tight and I have a real good look. Lucky bastards. Guys come on behind her and pick up their instruments. There's no introduction, she just starts to sing which surprises me. I'm not really listening to the words but as the songs continue I'm picking up the message and emotions. She's telling of her anger at being treated like a piece of meat and I can tell she's talking to me and I start to feel ashamed. As it builds the girls either side of me are glaring as if they'd like to cut my dick off and as I glance around the room I can see the other women are the same. But the music shifts and the words calm us down and let us know we can respect each other and get along. The sort of stuff that would normally make me puke but now sounds good. The music shifts again and we're all still hypnotized. But the pace is picking up and the singer is getting raunchy, grinding the mike stand and pacing about and starting to exude raw sex.. She's saying that we can do anything we want and grab every moment of pleasure. It's like I can smell it and almost taste it and I respond getting a hardon in my tight jeans. The girls are getting flushed and I can see their nipples really hard in their t-shirts and I can see the singer reach up and pinch her nipple, really feeling the vibe. It's getting hot and heavy. The songs continue and a guy walks up behind the singer, someone says 'Joe' but I'm not concentrating. He leans in and starts kissing her neck and running his fingers through her hair. She's still singing but panting as well. The sound is like J'Taime tried for and failed because it's real. The girls lean across me and start to kiss and tongue each other and stroking each others breasts. One drops her hand onto my thigh and gently caresses my cock. This is the point I'd normally jump in and take control and get my rocks off but I know now that's not the way. The guy slides his hands up and down her body and lifts the t-shirt to show her fantastic tits. He's squeezing and tweaking and rubbing but she still manages to sing, or is it singing? It's more primal now, moaning but telling us exactly what's going on. I glance around and see the whole place is the same, there's all variations of groups and even some singles playing with themselves unself-consciously and as much a part of the group as me in the middle of these two girls. The guy lifts her skirt and fingers the singer for a bit but they can stand it any longer and her lifts her up and puts her onto a table and enters her all in one smooth motion. I hear 'Shell I love u' and then there's just the love noises as she's still got the mike in her hand. My girls have stripped their tops off and are grinding their tits together with my cock sandwiched between them. It is beyond erotic. I slip my hands up their skirts and use my thumbs in their wet, soaking wet pussies and my fingers on their clits. We are in a separate world of pleasure and I see the others in the room are equally transported but when I look at the singer and her guy I feel connected to them and everyone in the room. We are all part of one huge building orgasm and I can feel it building and then suddenly it breaks all over us, we are cumming and feeling them cum and they can feel us cum and it just goes backwards and forwards almost forever. It's the music of the universe distilled in one place and time. It should be recorded and beamed around the world and into space to show how life can be lived. The Singer I'd finished dining a client just as her show had been finishing an hour ago; the grounds having cleared by the time I knocked on the door of her dressing room. She opened the door and stood facing me with a pre-eminent stare from her dark eyes. Her long wavy hair came down behind her shoulders and lightly rested against her thin black top. There was a small rim of her flat stomach visible between the bottom of her top and the top of her thick dark blue jeans, held up by a fairly thick black belt and tucked into her heeled, combat-style boots. They were tied neatly and rose up to partway up her shin. She'd had them on for around five and a half hours by now and had a forboding smile as she said 'Come in' with her make-up still bright and undiminished. She walked with a swagger; her bottom flicking up and down on either side as she walked past the open bottle of YvesSaintLauren on her dressing table – confirming what I thought I'd smelt as she'd opened the door. She was only a year younger than me yet we were both under twenty and legal to drink; our lives a story we lived rather than believed. I hung up my jacket on the back of the closed door as she screwed the top back on the bottle with a knowing look of expectant joy on her face. "So, do you like my new boots?" She asked me already fully aware of the answer. "Why, yes," I said, more interested in what they hid inside them. "I like them too," She said sweetly – a manner she normally only reserved for when she absolutely wanted to get her way, "but I've had them on since six this evening and my feet are starting to ache." "Oh, that's, uh..." "Would you be the most amazing friend and take them off for me," and she addressing me by name and fluttering her black eyelashes. "Sure, but only to help," I said as she walked over to a chest of drawers and perched herself on top. She stretcher her legs out infront of her and admired the boots on her feet for one last time before they came off, nodding her head authoritatively in their direction and reaching into her jeans pocket for a small fliptop make-up mirror and a tube of rich pink lipstick. "Sit on the floor," She said matter-of-factly, "With your legs crossed. Now this is my room and so you do exactly as I say, do you understand?" "Yes," I said, and her left leg came up, the top of her boot guiding my chin upwards. "Yes what?" She asks, looking down from the mirror and pursing her lips. "Yes Miss," I said. "That's better. I want you to undo the laces on my other boot first, and loosen the tongue. Then do the same with this one, then slip them off – slowly! And if you dislodge my socks, there'll be trouble – is that understood?" "Yes," I nodded, and she hit my chin more forcefully this time. "Yes what?" "Yes Miss." "That's right, and you be careful or I'll have you in trouble – alright?" "Yes Miss," – and she flicked her legs a little either side of my face, mesmorising me before she stretched them out in front of me. I did as she instructed, gradually pulling the lace of her right boot so the laces fell limp, and then I tugged a little on its tongue so some air could get in. A slightly sweaty scent rose up but I did my best to hide my expression. She busied herself with the black nails on her left hand, seemingly disinterested. I moved on to the left boot, pulling both ends of the lace this time but just as gently and then dropping them so they fell either side of the boot. This time I put my finger down the tongue to loosen it a little and I felt the soft material of her sock for just a moment. The boot was suddenly under my face again, but this time there was a smile on her face. "Were you trying to be cheeky there, boy?" "No Miss, no Miss," – she put her boot down a little from the ankle, like she was pushing the pedal in a car. "I'll believe you – but just this once!" "Ok, thank you Miss." "Is there something in your trousers?" "I don't think so Miss," – 'though I was fully conscious of the increasing bulge, fuelled by anticipation. Her eyes lit up a little at the control she knew she had over me. "Now take this one off, and remember – slowly," She said, lifting her left leg up to the side of my cheek. I turned and held out my hands, my heart pumping at the thought of what might be inside and everything I was about to discover. I put my left hand on the end of the boot and my right hand in the middle, feeling its strong structure so similar to her personality and everything she could make me do, I wanted to savour taking it off and yet was so eager to have away with it. "Wait," She said, and I was hit with a panic that she might call the whole thing off, "I'm not sure I can trust you." "No Miss, no Miss, I promise..." "Shhhh," she said, pressing a finger to her lips and looking down at me like an Au Paire trying to send a small child to bed, "let go" – and I did as I was told, my heart sinking but my dick edging ever higher up the lining of my trousers. "I think I need some kind of collateral," She said, placing her hands by her sides and leaning back so as to rest on them. "Collateral?" I asked, quickly adding on, "Miss." "Yeah. Stand up," She told me, letting her legs hang loose over the side of the drawers, the laces dangling towards the ground as if to mock me for being closer to my desires than I was. "Give me your shirt," She told me, "If you're well behaved, I might give it back to you." – and so I undid my buttons and slipped it from my shoulders. She looked fondly at my bare chest and my weight-toned arms; she rose her legs again and lightly tapped the bottom of her boots against my tummy. "Good boy, now give it to me," – I reached over and handed it to her. "Do you like that? Do you like that, boy?" She asked me, tapping her boots again and again against my bare skin. "Yes Miss, I do. Thank you," "Now sit down again, there's a good boy," She told me. I resumed my original position with my legs crossed, this time her offering her left boot to me. "Slowly," She emphasised again, "So I can feel the fresh air coming in and soothing my feet." I retook my grip of her boot and gently wiggled it loose, sliding it down to the bottom of her ankle and then running the wool-lined top along her soles, her toes opening up a little as it finally came off completely. Her socks were white with pink ends and slightly faded with sweat. "Good," She said, "Now put it over there, next to you, so it faces me." I did so before she told me to move onto her right boot. "You can go a little quicker this time," She told me, "I don't want to sweat for much longer." I pulled a little with this boot and took it off in half the time, the shape of the side her right foot more curved and shapely that the flatter sole itself. I placed it next to the other boot and awaited further instruction. She said nothing though, instead pressing her finger to her lips and now rubbing her socked feet further up my chest and over my torso. The socks were a little wet but still soft and I found myself opening my mouth to breathe, only opening my eyes when I finally realised she had stopped. "Do you like my socks, boy?" She asked me, and I sat up a little. "Yes Miss." "Do you like how they feel on your chest, boy?" "Yes, I do Miss – thank you." "Can you prove how well behaved you are to me now, boy?" "Yes, I think so Miss." "Alright, I'm going to sit here with my socks in your face. You must do everything I say, you can look, but you may not touch. If you touch them, there'll be trouble – is that clear?" "Yes Miss." She pushed her left foot right into my nose, the sole millimeters from its end, but I sat still and took in the aroma, closing my eyes slightly. "Open your eyes," She said with a coaxing charm. I did so and looked along the side profile as I was told to do so. The shape hidden slightly by the sock I still took in how she was moving her toes upwards and then sprawling them a little. She switched feet and twirled it round and round my face, in front of my eyes and lips. She pulled it back a little and said "Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue, but do not touch my feet." I opened my mouth and my tongue crept out, shaking with excitement. I let it lay still less than half an inch from where the end of her right foot now was, almost able to taste it in the air. Before I knew it she'd placed it, still socked, in my mouth, and caught by surprise I instinctively closed my mouth around it. She wrenched it out quickly, my face registering the horror of what I'd just done before she kicked me – properly this time, in my right cheek, only just holding herself on top of the drawers. "Now," and she called me by name again, "I warned you..." "But," I interrupted, and she looked at me sternly. "Were you going to argue with me, boy?" "Er, no Miss. No, no Miss. I'm sorry Miss." "I knew I couldn't trust you," she began. "No, no Miss – I'm sorry Miss, I just got carried away," but she cut me off mid-sentence. "Bring my boots over here and put them back on." "I..." "Do it! I don't want to wear them either but that obviously what's needed until you learn your lesson." I picked them up and placed them back on her feet, careful not to touch her socks before tying them up, sitting there sadly. She placed her heavy boots on my shoulders and said my name again. I looked up at her. "Do you have anything you want to say." "I'm sorry, Miss." "And why are you sorry?" "Because I tried to kiss your feet Miss." "And Why did you want to do that," she said my name again. "Because I want your feet Miss." She lifted her boots from my shoulders again. "I must admit I rather liked you taking them off," She said with a small smile at the edges of her lips before she mentioned my name another time. "If you could have anything at the moment, what would you have?" She asked. I looked up at her sheepishly. "Your boots, Miss." And she let out a laugh. "But that's silly, then my feet would get dirty when I went outside – and we couldn't have that, now could we?" "No Miss." "Would you like my socks instead, boy?" "I'd love to have them, Miss." "Really? Would you swap me for something you're wearing?" "Certainly, Miss." – and she looked at me menacingly, her smile getting wider and wider as her mind ran wild with what she was going to do to me. "Why don't you try taking off my boots without messing it up this time?" She asked me, "You can do it quickly if that helps fight the temptation." I went at them like a Child unwrapping Christmas presents; undoing the laces and pulling them off quickly leaving her socks undisturbed, and placing them again as she'd asked. I knew her size but seeing the English number in a circle printed on the inside – '6' – still gave me a rush of excitement and by now my balls were starting to ache. "Okay boy, stand up," She told me, "I'll let you take off my socks and take them home with you if you do me a fair swap. Is that a deal?" "What would you like, Miss?" "Well, I want," and she tilted her head back suppressing an urge to laugh – at me, "I want... I want everything you're wearing. Does that sound fair to you? Is that how much you want my socks?" By now I was trembling, I knew how close I was to seeing her feet properly for the first time and something told me if I did as I was told I might even get to touch them, to taste them undiluted by fabric. "Yes Miss, that sounds fair to me." Her eyes widened as if she was impressed. "Take it all off then, boy. Take everything off whilst you're facing me, and then go and put it in a pile over there," and she pointed her toes to the other side of the room. I started undoing my belt slowly, trying to make a show of things, but I could fight the temptation no longer and pulled down hard; my trousers and boxers coming off in one, my cock sensitive instantly to the cool, air-conditioned air and pointing out at a right angle towards her. "Stand still," she said, and I held my clothes by my side, "Don't you know it's rude to point?", and she patted her left sole flat against the head of my cock, I felt a small surge and some pre-cum dripped onto the floor. "Dear, dear, dear," She said, "You need to learn some more self control, boy." "I, er..." "Shhhhh. Go and put your clothes over there, then come back and sit on the floor again." I walked over, naked, as best I could, dropped my things in a pile and came back, the base of my shaft feeling like it was supporting a great weight. "Bring me my boots," she said as I walked past them, "and come and stand next to me," – I handed them to her and stood next to the drawers, "you may kiss my neck," she said, and she looked intimate as I pecked it in a circle, occasionally peaking through my otherwise closed eyes – I could feel the tough outside of the boots rubbing against my naked thighs until she began placing one around my cock, rubbing the soft lining up and down my ridge, my dick flinching at the feeling as I fought harder and harder to control myself until I let out a 'ahhh'. She slid the boot of slowly, placed a hand on my neck to push me back slightly. "Floor," she said, raising her socked right foot in front of my left eye, "What do you want boy?" and by now I could hardly answer. "I said, what do you want boy? Answer me!" "I... I... I want your feet, miss, please. Please, please, please, I want your feet." She hovered herself over the side of the drawers and trod lightly on my dick with her feet, the soft socks warming my sac. Eventually she hoisted herself back up and rubbed them against my cheeks. "Okay, I think you've been a good boy," and I looked up in anticipation, "you can take off my socks, slowly – but you can't touch my bare feet. If you do, I'm leaving you here – is that understood?" "Yes Miss," I nodded. She raised her left foot up slowly to my face and I put my hands around the top of her sock, gently sliding it down to the top of her ankles and then over the slight bump, she lifted it a little more and I slid it down below the ankle. The flesh was lighter towards the sole and the soft sides of her feet curved inwards towards her arch, I slid the sock off slowly until it came to the part I'd longed for most – her short, neat toes with immaculate black polish. I put the sock down between my crossed legs and she put her now bare foot right into my face. "Can you control yourself, boy?" "Yes Miss," I just about managed to say. "And what do you really want to do at the moment, boy?" "I want to kiss it, Miss." "Kiss what, boy?" "Your foot, Miss." She ran the bottom of her toes over my forehead and I tried not to wince as I did my best not to shoot my load. "Take the other one off first," She told me. I rolled this one down like a football sock this time with her right foot, which felt a little softer as I lifted from the bottom. Her toes were a little more pointed as I slipped off her sock and put it with the other one. I looked up at her with longing eyes. "Up." She said, and I stood up in front of her, my cock heavy. I could feel the nail on her right big toe as she ran it up and down my shaft, "Do you like my foot touching your dick, boy? You like hearing that, don't you? That's what you like to hear, isn't it – you like to hear me saying that my foot is touching your dick!" I let out another pant. "No!" She said firmly, "You're not going to cum unless I say you can. Sit back down," She said calmly, dangling her feet downwards like she was sitting on a riverbank. "One lick, and one lick only," she told me as she raised her left foot up again. I put out my tongue and bent underneath, running slowly from the bottom of her angle to the tip of her middle three toes – it was cooler thanks to the air in the room, the taste of vinegar strong but the leather on the inside of her boots masked after she'd worn the socks. I took my position up again and she pushed the bottom of her toes against my lips. "Suck," she said, and I placed my lips around them, a little sweat still coming out and straight into my mouth, my dick beginning to drizzle to the point where I thought it might burst. But then she withdrew it – quickly and unexpectedly. Before I knew it she had leapt down from the drawers and was kneeling on the floor, her feet tucked under her bottom and her soles protruding out, a little more wrinkled than they'd been previously. She'd taken up one of her socks and had thrust it onto my dick, she was leaning forwards and placed her mouth around my shaft, licking around the head and pausing only to mumble 'Cum!' as I felt the spasm at the base of my shaft and it oozed out as she looked up, my load seeping through her sock and spreading before I looked at her and some drops fell from her top lip as she winked and blew me a kiss, leaning forward one more time on all fours and whispering to me "Never forget: I control you..." The Singing Lesson © 1974, 2008 by Argentum Witchlover (All rights reserved.) A buxom beauty learns that a haughty spirit really does precede destruction as she falls prey to a vicious captor and finds her voice. * Kathy had always been a proud beauty. Her mother had once warned her that her proud, haughty nature would one day be her downfall. It was not that she disliked the attention she attracted, but Kathy did not feel any obligation to the men whose eyes she caught. She was, after all, above the fray in the whole man and woman thing. How, then, did she find herself in this situation? Tied nude to a chair in an unfamiliar room. Her body bound rather simply, really, but quite securely. Kathy's ankles were fastened to the legs of the chair by ropes, and her hands were bound together behind her back by something that felt like a wide leather belt. The belt, if that is what it was, fastened to something below the chair so that her arms were pulled downward, and her shoulders forced hard against the back of the chair. She wasn't going anywhere. Kathy remembered with her usual pride how she had taken great pains to dress well that day. Now her carefully chosen outfit, which had been ripped away from her body, was little more than a pile of rags. This had been placed deliberately so that she could glimpse it if she turned her head as far as she could to one side. Her captor had said little other than she would be free to go if she would only ask to be released. When Kathy refused, he did not seem surprised, saying only that he would hear her sing an aria of screams for her insolence. It was then that Kathy's world went suddenly dark. How long Kathy had been unconscious, she could not tell; but she had come to in this gray, dimly lit room, stripped bare and tied to a chair. Waiting for … waiting for what she could only guess. Kathy heard a door open behind her. Someone entered, and the door closed. She was no longer alone, and the feeling that came upon her was worse than any fear she had ever known. This wasn't the anticipation of the unknown, for Kathy knew that she was in great danger. This was the fear of … helplessness … of having no control. Kathy was not in control! Her captor didn't speak as he approached her from behind, and Kathy was not about to give him the satisfaction of having her speak first. Having her beg. Having her panic. Having Kathy lose her self control. The footsteps in the dark stopped, and Kathy heard a grating metal-on-metal sound followed by the snap of an electrical circuit being closed. The room was flooded with a glaring white light, and Kathy reflexively closed her eyes, opening them only when she heard the footsteps move away from her and then stop once again before moving in her direction a second time. These brief seconds gave her time to take in the cell in which she was being held. Except for herself and the pile of rags that once had been her clothing, Kathy saw only mirrors. Mirrors situated so that she could see her ample, naked form from every conceivable angle. At once she realized that her bindings had a purpose beyond simply holding her fast to the chair. Kathy saw that her breasts were pointing straight ahead, her back forced into an arch so that she could not relax and slump forward. In fact, she could do little more than squirm. Kathy did not contemplate her predicament long before her captor stepped into her view carrying something in his right hand. A whip! He intended to beat her. Kathy felt her anger boil at the mere thought of such an insult. But another realization came to her just as suddenly: Why, she wondered, had he not suspended her from the ceiling or bound her to a wall, or to a post? The way she was bound to the chair, the only place his blows would land was … . No! Worst of all, her captor knew that Kathy understood his plan, and he laughed at her reaction to this understanding as he tested the whip in the air mere inches away from her soft, round body. "Scream and I will release you." … Kathy sat silently, defiantly. Proudly, unwilling to comply, even at the cost of her own destruction. Kathy would not scream! "As you wish, then," her tormentor said as he began to whip her with expert strokes which caused Kathy pain she had never imagined possible. Still, she was quiet. I will not scream! I will not scream! Kathy repeated silently to herself. The cruel leather began to bite into the tender flesh of her innocent breasts: deforming them, tearing precious skin, and bruising the delicate tissues underneath. Still, Kathy did not scream. "All you need do is scream and I will stop," her captor reminded her, but Kathy didn't really hear him. In her mind she thought she heard a strange voice trying desperately to be heard over the sound of her torture. Then, a new understanding came to Kathy's mind. It was her voice she had heard, and it's message to her was clear. There was no doubt: Kathy understood. Kathy closed her eyes and threw back her head. Then, she screamed. The Singing Man Choral groups; the stage; local productions of any and all sizes; those were his passions away from work. Freedom from market restraints was the apple. Interaction with an entirely new group of people every couple months or so didn’t hurt. Every once in a while a new person piqued his interest. This time it was a strawberry blonde in the alto section. Joe knew he had found a rose amongst the thorns. She was young and modestly attractive. She was told it was her perky attitude that brought her so much attention. Personally the figured it was that or the hair coloring she’d used just before joining this choral group. This latest color from Clairol was as hot as she’d ever picked. It brightened an already effusive demeanor and showed off her dimples just right. Deb liked being noticed. She knew he was studying her from the third practice on. She slowly began to let him know that she was interested. Sometimes it was a coy glance between numbers, or across the room after practice. Once she brushed against him as she slid into her row after break. His lean, muscled buttocks didn’t disappoint her mind, and enticed a further glance when he wasn’t looking. Joe finally decided to break the thawing ice a week before the performance. He strolled to where she was talking with Alice, the lead Alto, and picked up a few details. “Cats, dogs & other pets” seemed to be the topic of conversation. When Alice walked out to visit the water fountain, he said (nearly to himself), “I’ve got an old, broken-down cat. Loveable though.” He was almost surprised, yet pleased when Deb turned toward him. “An old cat, huh? What kind of pet is that for a tenor?” The mischievous smile tugged at the corners of her eyes. “Surely you have a dog, or a woverine or something more manly?” Joe’s lips curled into a smile, “Nope, never saw the need. My cat and I keep the apartment nice and quiet enough without the racket a dog makes. How about you, Deb? What pets do you prefer?” Deb smiled wider, glad to finally have a legitimate conversation with this man. “I prefer a dog. Or would if I could. Our Building Super is hell on pets! I saw him press charges against my down-stairs neighbor over a goldfish.” Joe shook his head. The thought of a lawsuit over a goldfish was ludicrous. He briefly wondered if she was making it up. “You’re in an apartment, eh? How long you been there?” The conversation might have gone like that for another hour, but Joe noticed that break was nearly over and finally asked her out for coffee after practice. “Sure,” she said. Right away Joe knew they had similar interests. That evening at Starbucks they let their hair down. Joe admired her figure as they walked to the coffee bar. He decided she must be at least a “C” cup, and her hips were well-proportioned. The hair was just the icing on the cake. Deb admired Joe’s manners. At least he didn’t drool while he was trying to decide if everything was ‘natural’. His pecs twitched beguilingly as she hung on to his arm, letting him walk her to their table. That arm, strong and stable, spoke of workouts galore. When their latte’s arrived, she asked him about it, too. He said, “Thanks,” and sure, he worked out twice a week at the gym. But the real toning was done at his home. He jumped on his weights there any time he had 10 minutes to kill, and that kept him in good shape. She cocked an eyebrow, and hoped he had a balanced workout. Just as they were rising there was a commotion at the register. Some bastard in a mask had a gun out, and was threatening the teller. Deb gasped, backpedaling to their table. Joe saw the bandit and something overcame him. He became – dangerous. The crook had his back to the rest of the restaurant, and even though there was a mirror above the register, he didn’t see Joe coming. Joe’s tackle threw the gun out of the man’s hand and into the glassware across from the entry, knocking over cups and glasses. They both hit the ground, and the mask flounced up, obscuring the bandit’s vision. Joe rolled up and around behind the man, holding onto an arm, and quickly had him pinned face-down in a wrestler’s hold. By then another patron and the gal at the register had finally reacted to the chain of events and jumped to Joe’s assistance. Everyone cheered, and once the felon was securely tied onto a chair, Deb ran gushing to Joe’s side. “Oh, Joe, you were marvelous!” Deb’s sincerity came through, as though the crook had been holding her up. “I can’t believe you just ran up and tackled the guy!” Joe, sweaty and hyperventilating, began to blush at the praise. “Oh, it wasn’t that much. I just felt I had to do something. Besides, it wasn’t a real gun anyway!” Several people heard that comment, and a resounding, “Huh?” was muttered. “That’s right,” Joe said, starting to grin, “that guy only had a plastic gun for this job. He probably would have used tonight’s drawer to buy himself a real one. Didn’t you see it? The end of the barrel had a big chip in the plastic!” The crowd, and Deb, didn’t seem to care. Deb rewarded him with a sincere, full-body kiss, pressing her chest and hips into him. Joe, pleasantly surprised, accepted it, and wondered how he could arrange this on their next date. By then the police had arrived and had to take everyone’s statement. By the time they were allowed to leave, it was after 10:00. Reluctantly Deb and Joe said goodbye and got into their respective cabs. But not before they agreed to meet and celebrate the night of the performance. The musical performance wasn’t appreciated nearly as much as Joe’s performance at Starbucks. Yet the pitches rang true in most spots and the audience didn’t seem to mind the ones that were slightly off. After all, they were only out a fiver even if they deplored it. Deb and Joe traded glances throughout, and Joe was pleased to see the deep collar on Deb’s dress. Every time she took a deep breath for a sustained passage, the collar expanded to capacity. At the end of every passage, the effort used to expel the air left a wonderful little shadow between her breasts. Joe actually lost his place on pages 7 and 15 while he was otherwise distracted. Deb liked what she saw. Joe was dressed up in black slacks and a white dress shirt, topped off with a bow tie and a black dress jacket. His pecs were hidden, but his abs worked to push air into and out of his lungs on a regular basis. His high, sweet voice seemed to pulsate in her mind, and she lost her place once, missing an entrance because of a casual glance in his direction. After the performance the choir all met behind the stage for the obligatory “party”. Really nothing more than a cookie or two and a drink for parched throats, the group toasted each section leader, the pianist, and the director for all the glorious contributions. All the while, the glances between Deb and Joe began to build, reaching a dull, smoldering red heat as the last congratulations were uttered. Deb felt a blush in her cheeks as they neared each other. When Joe offered her his arm for the walk out, Deb was afraid he would feel the shudder of delight as they touched. The blush began to spread. Joe could see Deb’s expression intensify towards the end of the celebration. When he offered her is arm, he was pleased to feel the tremble of her hand on his arm as they walked out. He asked confidently, bluntly, “Your place, or mine Deb?” Deb leaned into him at the curb, and whispered into his ear, “Yours, Joe.” The cabbie pulled up and asked the address. He heard it clearly, but when he looked into the mirror anyway, as if to have the couple repeat it, decided against it. He adjusted the mirror so they wouldn’t feel infringed upon, should they happen to look up. As their bodies hit the seats in the cab, their eyes locked onto each other, smoldering, heating the space between and within them. Deb’s passion was beginning to spread to the points of her hips. Like the blush on her cheeks, it heated a spot there. Then it began to spread inwards as well. Joe’s reaction was more obvious. The bulge in the crotch of his slacks began to grow, the tingling there more difficult to resist each second. He reached for her and she came to him, the embrace causing the flickering embers inside them to come to full bloom. He held her in his arms briefly, savoring the moment, then reached into her hair, closed his hand, and roughly pulled her head backwards. Her body swiftly heating up, her neck exposed, she was ready for his lips upon it. He didn’t disappoint her, and they nibbled, licked and bit its length. The taxi pulled to a stop. Her dizzy mind faintly heard the driver get out of the car and step to their door, and start to open it. She slowly pushed Joe away. He didn’t want to stop, but the house beckoned. Joe let himself be pushed back and took Deb’s hand, pulling her out of the taxi behind him. The fare was settled neatly with a $20 bill, easily double the actual fee, and the two walked swiftly up the walk and up to the house. Joe’s key, already in his hand, fit easily into the lock. Deb’s hands, wrapped around Joe’s waist and dangling pleasantly low, nearly caused Joe to lose his grip on the knob. But he managed to get the door open even as she started to giggle. They whirled into the hallway, Joe turning inside her arms and pulling her tightly to him. Deb loved the breathlessness of it, and when he turned to her they kissed hungrily again. Lips parted, tongues twining, bringing their passion even nearer the edge. Deb felt her body responding strongly now, knew she would have this man, all of him, before long. Joe felt the need welling up higher in his body, and caught the scent of her aroma beginning to fill the room. He pressed her against the wall. Then he reached down between her thighs and put his hand suddenly, roughly, directly on her pelvis. The speed and precision of the pressure caused Deb to gasp, and spread her legs. Joe continued to kiss across her face, eyebrows, and cheek, but also began to move his hand up and down her body, incidentally pulling silken fabric across Deb’s pussy. When his hand started to move, she moaned with pleasure. His need was driving her mad with desire, Joe’s impressive cock throbbing against the outside of her thigh. She willed him to go further, moaning again, and pressing lightly against the top of his head with one hand, the other at the base of his neck squeezing. Joe bent forward, his tongue trailing down across her neck. The flush he found there encouraged him, and he managed to get his other hand behind her, working her zipper down ahead of his lips. As head and zipper fell, so did the dress, exposing a thin, nearly non-existent black bra and lily white breasts beneath. As Joe kissed lower, Deb arched her back, stretching up to bring his hot lips down onto her breasts quicker. The hand between her legs had not been idle, and she felt it change direction, sliding further down her legs. As his tongue began to caress the edge of her bra, she realized he was beginning to kneel and her breathing began to come ragged. Joe moved the hand behind her again, and the dress began to fall off her shoulders. Yet another movement and the clasp holding her bra against her body came lose. And his lower hand had managed to find the hem of her dress, and slipped inside its folds, stroking an ankle inside a slick film of hose. Deb’s arching back informed him she wanted more, and he kissed past the edge of the lose bra and onto the pink areola outlining her nipple. Deb gasped as his mouth met her breast, then again as it crossed onto the surface of her areola. Her hands on his head, she tried to hold him right there as a bubble of passion percolated through her. She was glad when he didn’t move right away, and the bubble, coming up through her pussy and into her tummy, “poofed” into a small orgasm. Joe knew he had pleased her when she suddenly relaxed, but knew she would have more fun if he continued. As his teeth brushed her areola, her nipple lengthened and firmed. His hand, sliding up her leg, stroked the back of her knee, eliciting a thin, throaty giggle. He licked her nipple at last, and that brought another moan. When his hand moved up again, her legs began to shudder in anticipation. Unwilling to stop, but recognizing the signs, he paused, saying, “Deb… Deb! We have to go to the bedroom. Let’s go!” Deb heard the words, and though her body screamed “No!” she realized it would be wise to lie down with this man before she did something silly… like pass out! When he bent down to pick her up she nearly swooned, glad to be in his strong arms. They made it down the hall and around a corner before he opened another door. He stepped in and turned to the right. Just as he began to step to the bed, a dark grey shape jumped off it and ran out the door. Joe said, “Go find some food, Sheeba.” He laid her in a large bed. Before he could step away, Deb reached out impishly and grabbed the taught point above his crotch. It was his turn and Joe was glad to moan. The sensation of her firm grasp against his cock made him roll forward on the balls of his feet and arch his back. Deb kneaded him, moving fabric past his manhood, and he began to lose control. But that’s not how he wanted her. Not yet, at any rate. He stepped back suddenly, his cock pulled from her greedy grasp, and began to undress. When he pulled back, Deb was disappointed. Then, as his clothes began to come off, she became impressed. The sight of his muscles gleaming excited her mind, and she began to move out of her dress as quickly as she could. His jacket was off. Her bodice was over her thighs. His shirt unbuttoned, her dress finally off. His pants unzipped, sliding down over golden thighs, her bra and nylons were down. But before she could get them completely off, he pressed her flat onto the bed and demanded, “Suck me, woman!” The shock of it coming as a command set her back. She began to resist. But when she looked into his eyes, she saw the same determination she had seen once before, in a coffee shop. She took him in her mouth, wholly, licking and sucking him like no one before. Joe saw her resistance start to build, but when he looked into her eyes he knew she would assuage his need. He felt her lips down his shaft, her hand gently squeezing it, massaging its length. He felt the rough edges of her teeth against his delicate foreskin and her tongue around his head. Then she moved her other hand behind his balls, tracing the hidden portion of his cock backwards and upwards. She began to stroke that portion as well. He felt as though he would cum any second. Deb tasted the sudden saltiness of a drop of precum on the head of his cock. She knew he was close; his breathing was getting rough and he was about to lose control of the rhythm of his hips. She reached back further, tracing his cock back behind his balls, and pressed in; rubbing back and forth, she seemed to have twelve inches of manhood in her hands. Just as he started to buck, she reached back further, and inserted her thumb between the petals of his anus. His hands immediately reached to her head, his hips rocked, and she felt the cock between her lips begin to surge. A dollop of cum flew out of his cock. She swallowed as quick as she could, just in time to have another bit come out. His hips were bucking uncontrollably, the cum filling her as fast as she could take it in. Joe had lost control of the situation as soon as Deb’s hand had passed his balls. But when she inserted her thumb into his ass, he couldn’t hold back any more and reached down, pressing her mouth deeply onto his cock. He lost track of time at that moment; the only things in existence were the pressure on his cock and in his ass… and the hot cum leaving his body. His gasps and moans and groans all combined, and he compressed his abs repeatedly as his orgasm grew, subsided, and finally ceased. Dizzy, with stars in his eyes, he bent forward and kissed Deb. His hand slid down her body, rested in the folds of underwear still there. He hooked it with a thumb and helped her remove it. Deb slid out of the rest of her clothes, glad to have helped her hero. But she wanted more herself. First, though, she had a hand to wash. She slid out of bed, looking behind her, but his temporary fit of exhaustion was overwhelming. She smiled to herself. He’ll recover soon enough! She went to the bathroom and found the soft soap there. She washed up quickly, though waiting for the hot water took longer than she wanted. All the while she was mentally reviewing the sights she had had of his body. The man was outrageous. Toned muscles moved effortlessly everywhere, and that other muscle, the one she’d had in her mouth? It wasn’t bad either! The hot water finally arrived, and she finished. She wiped her hands on a purple towel, and decided she needed to get back into bed. Her excitement, while not gone, had died down slightly, and her skin was feeling cool. Joe heard her go, and knew what she was doing and why. But it was easily two minutes before his breathing returned to normal. He opened his eyes as she was returning, and he smiled greedily. Her body was even nicer than the vision he remembered. As she slid back into bed, she worked herself under the covers. He rose up and joined her, the embers left in his body momentarily banked. They rolled towards each other and caressed, lips dancing lightly around and on and past each other. He licked her nose, she nipped his chin. Suddenly their lips were parted and they began to kiss each other deeply, tongues dancing each with the other. Their bodies, united along their length, began to heat up again. Joe began to slide his hand down her side, making lazy 8’s against her rib cage. Deb wrapped her leg over and around his. When finally their tongues tired of each other, Joe began to move his lips down Deb’s face and neck. She, enjoying the thrill, rolled onto her back. As she moved, Joe’s hand slid across to her stomach before it began to move slowly lower. Hand, lips, and tongue moved lower together, in concert. As Joe’s fingertips dallied lower and lower, Deb unconsciously spread her thighs. As his lips and tongue move across her bodice, Deb reached down, cupping her left breast with her hand. She lifted it to his questing mouth, begging for it to be caressed. As his lips met her breast, his fingers found her pussy. His lips parted, and he exhaled. His middle finger found the fold in her labia, and gently parted her pussy lips. His teeth framed her nipple between them. Two other fingers surrounded her pussy lips, one down the left side, the other down the right. As his teeth began to move slowly up the length of her nipple, his three fingers slid slowly down her pussy lips. The outer fingers pressed her labia up against the inner finger. A moan began to build in Deb’s throat. Caressed in so many places at once, she began to move with the ancient rhythm. Hips slid forward, then back. Her breathing became shallow, and quicker. The heat flooding into the center of her body from her hips seemed to concentrate in her nipples and her clit, and those spots were being stimulated by a very generous man. The strength of him, her memory of him, and the scent of him filled her as she began to voice the building excitement in her body. She became heated again and Joe’s mouth began to move. His head and lips and tongue slid even lower, which allowed his hand a different angle. On their next trip down, his finger slipped inside Deb’s pussy. When her hips dropped, he curled his finger inside her, and pressed firmly against her g-spot. Her sudden intake of air told him that she was pleased, and his tongue moved quicker. It slid down to the junction between her torso and thigh, and paused; but only for a moment. Then it slid down to the top of her clitoris. The Singing Man Deb’s hips began to rise and fall quickly now. His tongue, riding the movement, began to make small “o’s” on the top of her clit, and the finger inside her… God that felt good! She thrust her hips again, and the finger moved back and forth. “Uhhhn,” was all she could utter. She thrust again, and the tongue moved across her clit swiftly, smoothly. “Ooooohhhh,” came out. She thrust over and over, and his movements, keeping time with her body, moved in random, ecstatically wonderful directions. She began to rub the palms of her hands across her own nipples, the first time she’d ever done it during sex. The pressure in her hips and clit and nipples began to build, and she could no longer contain it. She began to have an orgasm, but what an orgasm! As the height of it washed against her, she involuntarily began to sit up. As Deb’s body reacted to his ministrations, he began to increase pressure. As her hips began to go out of control, he let his tongue slide along her clit. As her upper body began to come off the bed, he opened his mouth and sucked in her clit, pressing it up against the rough edges of his teeth. All the while his finger kept rubbing back and forth against her g-spot. Deb screamed as she came, a throaty, lusty expression of delirium and delight. As quick as the sound started it stopped, and Deb, light-headed with joy, flopped back against the pillow exhausted. Joe slid up her body, and rested his head on his arm, drawing his other hand to his lips. They opened and his tongue came out, tasting another part of Deb. She, lying there dreamily, smiled. He smiled back, and asked, “I reckon this means we’ll have to find a dog, you ‘spose?” The Single Mother Flo lived in the same apartment building I lived in. I was 22 at the time and hadn't met anyone in this new town. I had just gotten my first job after finishing college. It was the early 60's, and I was lonely and horny. Flo was a single mother who had a 2 year old daughter named Dana. Her boyfriend had left her with the child and disappeared as soon as she told him she was pregnant. Flo was 38 years old and looked like Anna Maria Albergetti. She was always short of money and borrowing it from whoever would lend it to her. One day she came to my door and knocked on it asking for 5 dollars to buy some food. I gave it to her and felt I was doing a good deed. Within a few weeks she seemed to be showing up every day to borrow some money. After this had happened several times I asked her when she was going to pay me back. She told me her next welfare check would come tomorrow and she would give me the money she owed me. The next day came and she gave me the money. I really felt sorry for her so I told her I would pay for a babysitter and take her to dinner, no strings attached, just because she deserved a break. That evening I dressed for in a suit I wore to work, and she dressed in a cute dress. That evening we went to a local restaurant that had dancing as well as dining. As the evening progressed, Flo mentioned that she liked to dance and hadn't been dancing since she became pregnant. I took the hint and asked her to dance. The dances were slow. I kept my distance for a while until she came closer and rested her head on my shoulder. She whispered to me. "Let's pretend we are on a date and I am your girlfriend. Dance with me as close as you would with her. Hold me close like you would her." We danced like that until about 11, and then I took her home. At her door I decided to see if it was still a date and kissed her. Her mouth opened to accept my tongue in what was a very passionate kiss. I reached for her breast to cup, and caress it. She pushed my hand away, and said she had enjoyed the evening, but that I was much too young for her. Again she began to borrow money from me and nothing more happened until she got her welfare check. She paid me, and I offered to take her to dinner again and pay for the babysitter. She responded only if dancing was included. I told her, I only danced with my dates. Flo then said she would be my date, but not to expect even a good night kiss this time. I agreed and that night I dressed for dinner and we went to another restaurant that had dancing and even served drinks. I did not know it but Flo liked to drink and it made her horny. In fact that is how she had gotten pregnant she had been horny and not taken the time to insert her diaphragm. The evening began with Flo meeting me at her door wearing a low cut dress showing some cleavage. She was not big busted, but had a very nice shape he hair was done, and she actually looked like she was prepared for a date. We left for the restaurant and she stayed on her side of the car, not sitting next to me like a date would have in those days before bucket seats and seat belt laws. We arrived at the restaurant and I opened the door for her. I managed to catch a glimpse of powder blue panties as I helped her from the car. She put her arm on mine as we entered the restaurant. After we were seated the waiter asked us if we would like a cocktail. She immediately asked for a vodka and tonic. I asked for a bourbon and water. The drinks were served, and then we ordered dinner. We ate and talked during dinner. Flo was smart and sexy; she didn't look as old as she was. She looked like she was in her early 30's not 38 as was her real age. I ordered us 2 more drinks and then asked her to dance to a slow romantic song. We danced as if we were on a date, arms around each other bodies pressed tightly together. Before long my erection was pressed against her belly. I bet down and kissed her neck and ear before the dance ended. We sat down for a while and she had another drink, I didn't because she reminded me I had to drive home tonight. We danced again and this time I kissed her lips and slipped her a little tongue before the dance ended. It was almost time to go home so we left. As I entered the car she moved next to me, and put her head on my shoulder, and her hand around my stomach as we left the parking lot. As we drove I was feeling horny and decided to see what would happen. Flo had given me all the signals that a date who wouldn't be objecting to a little necking, or maybe even more would. I drove to a lover's lane, and just sat there waiting for her objection. "I am too old for you." "I don't think so. It's just a date." She looked deeply into my eyes then said. "I am not going to do anything with you. The most I will do is kissing you." "I will settle for that, but only of you want to. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." With that she turned and pulled my mouth onto hers kissing me deeply and showing me how talented her tongue was. As we kissed my cock became harder and harder. Before long my hand reached up to feel her breast and she moaned. I reached to open her dress and she stopped me there. "Take me home now please." "Richard I didn't mean to tease you, I am not ready, but if you want, after the baby sitter leaves we can neck some more in my apartment. There is no way I am going to let you undress me in a car." We left the lover's lane, and I drove back to the apartment building I lived in. She told me to giver her 10 minutes to pay the baby sitter and get a cab for her, then come to her apartment. I waited for about 15 minutes to make sure and then knocked on her door very softly. I did not want to wake Dana. Florence opened the door, and ushered me inside to her living room. I was hoping it would be her bedroom. We sat down on the couch and she cuddled next to me. I tilted her face up and kissed her passionately. Flo moaned into my mouth and did not object when I slipped my hand into the opening at the top of her dress. I began to caress the parts of the breast I could reach without opening it. They were soft and firm, full and womanly. I kissed down her neck to the tops of them. My hand moved to the buttons at the front of the dress and I began to unbutton it. I pushed it from her shoulders and saw her powder blue bra. The bra and panties were a matching set. I reached behind her and opened the snaps on her bra. Flo's hand unzipped my pants and slipped inside my pants and shorts gripping my hard penis and stroking it gently bringing me close to cumming. I slipped my hand under her skirt and slipped my finger under the gusset of her panties and into her sopping vagina she moaned and stroked me even harder until I came spurting into her hand and my shorts. Florence groaned and arched her back bring her pussy hard against my hand as she spasmed in orgasm. She then sent me home. End of chapter one.