0 comments/ 19101 views/ 2 favorites A Rainy Afternoon By: anon1940 Would you like to have me to tease you? That's the question which I posed to Mary one rainy Saturday afternoon when we found ourselves at loose ends staring at the rain drops as they ran down the windows in our living room. From past experience, Mary was familiar with my ideas about teasing. In particular, she knew that I require her complicity. That is, she knew that my pleasure comes, in large part, from the knowledge that she has agreed to temporarily relinquish control over her own body and to put it, quite literally, in my hands. Of course, her recognition of her own complicity has been the source of much of the excitement which she experiences herself when I tease her body. Nonetheless, exciting as it may be for her, her agreement to relinquish control is an act which borders on self immolation, and, as such, makes her understandably ambivalent about it. Thus, I was neither surprised nor disappointed when she hesitated before responding to my question. On the contrary, I interpreted her hesitation as evidence of the care with which she was coming to her decision. For this reason, when, after several minutes, she accepted my invitation, I knew that she was committed to accepting whatever torment I might require her to endure, and so, without further ado, I told her to run a hot bath, remove all her clothes, and wait for me in the bathroom. Once she had done so, I joined her in the bathroom and asked her to immerse herself in the water. Because the water was quite hot, at first she found it difficult to relax. However, her body quickly accommodated to the temperature, and soon her face transformed into a beatific smile as her skin became suffused in a delicate pink hue. Wanting her to fully enjoy what was happening to her body and, at the same time, be aware that pleasurable rush of blood to its surface was making her body more sensitive and, therefore, more vulnerable, I had her remain completely passive while I began a thorough and intimate scrubbing of every part of her increasingly pliant flesh. Lounging in warm water while someone else soaps and washes your body is a sensual experience. However, when that other person begins to probe and delve into every crevice, the sensuality of the experience comes into conflict with inhibitions. Thus, although Mary took unalloyed pleasure in my soaping and scrubbing of her firm limbs, stomach, breasts, back, and legs, her feelings were mixed about the attention I paid to the more remote areas of her body. Nonetheless, I insisted that she keep her arms raised not only while I shaved her armpits but also when, after carefully removing from them the last vestige of hair, I subjected her freshly shaved skin to a gentle but protracted scrubbing with our fingernail brush. Similarly, she found it difficult to stay passive when I prized and held open her buttock in order to introduce a small piece of soap into her rear. However, after the initial embarrassment had passed, she discovered that she could learn to tolerate and even enjoy the indignity of having me watch as her body heated and eventually melted the soap which I had inserted. When I finished bathing Mary, I helped her out of the tub and had her stand with her arms at her sides in front of the full length mirror on the back of our bathroom door. As I expected, her bath had left her in a mildly dazed state of lassitude. Thus, even though she enjoyed the rub down which I gave her towel, her response was more one of relaxation than excitement. Wanting to reawaken her body slowly after I had dried it, I brought a pillow from the bedroom and placed it on the toilet for her to sit on. I then told her to sit on the pillow with her arms at her sides and her shoulders pulled back so that her breasts would be presented to me without obstruction. In this position, Mary's breasts are lovely. The countervailing forces of gravity pulling one direction versus the strength of her well toned muscles pulling the other results in her breasts assuming an inviting curve, and it was precisely this portion of her anatomy whose invitation I intended to accept. When she was comfortably settled on her perch, I placed a chair in front of her, armed myself with a hairbrush, and, making sure that I left her with a unimpaired view of her own reflection in the mirror, sat down. Seeing surprise at my activities in her eyes, I explained that I intended to brush her breasts. I assured her that I had no desire to inflict acute physical pain. On the other hand, I did want to make her experience the excitement of enduring sensations from a source over which she had no control. To allay her fears, I told her that, although she would not be permitted to protect her breasts from my attentions, she could request that I desist for brief periods. On the other hand, I warned her that it would be I, not she, who determined when her breasts had been brushed enough. Having informed her what it was that I had in mind, I brought the bristles of brush into contact with the underside of her right breast and gently drew them back and forth. Although the bristles were barely touching her skin, I made sure that they never left the surface of her breast. After several minutes, my efforts were rewarded by the appearance of a blush which soon enveloped the whole of Mary's right breast. At the same time, Mary's body language made it increasingly clear that the state of lassitude in which she had emerged from her bath had been replaced by a state of considerable agitation as she fought her inclination to remove her breast from the insidious brushing to which I subjecting it. In fact, not only had her brow become knit but the muscles in her neck and arms had become visible as a result of the intensity with which she had begun gripping the edge of the toilet seat with her fingers. When, after another five minutes, the frown on her face and the subtle writhing of body left no doubt about her desire that I stop, I told her that I would turn my attention to her left breast if she would shift her position in a way which would maximize its availability to me. Without hesitation, she drew back her right shoulder while twisting her torso in a way which brought her left breast into prominence. Keeping my promise, I abandoned her right breast and applied the brush to the pink globe which her adjustments thrust in my direction. At first the change in target afforded Mary some relief, and the tension in her neck and arms receded. However, her relief was short-lived, and my brushing soon produced the same livid blush on the surface of her left breast as she already had on her right breast. Once I was satisfied that her two breasts had been equivalently initiated, I returned to her right breast where I now focused on its nipple and the surrounding areola. In my first visit, I had carefully avoided this most sensitive region. Instead, I had circled the globe of her breast without touching the areola. Now I used the brush to caress her breast by, starting at the base, pulling the brush toward me and having the bristles follow the conic contour of the proffered breast all the way to the nipple at its tip. Each visit of the bristles to her nipple was greeted by a sharp intake of breath, especially when I guided the brush in a way which brought the points of the bristles into contact with the point of her increasingly rigid nipple. Much to my pleasure and Mary's consternation, the response of her nipple to this treatment seemed to invite more intense stimulation. Pleased by the invitation, I decided to oblige by making the tip of Mary's right breast into a living pin cushion. That is, after placing the head of the brush directly over the areola, I applied enough pressure to be sure that the brush bristles would poke into the skin of her areola at the same time as the nipple itself would be forced to poke into the bristles surrounding it. Because at first Mary found this form of torment too much to bear, I gave her a respite when she begged for one. Nonetheless, from the salacious way in which she twisted her body while it was happening, I suspected that, in spite of the discomfort which it entailed, she found this mild impalement of her nipple very exciting. For this reason, when she had regained her composure and agreed to resume, I told her to lean forward so that her breasts would hang more freely from her body and, as a result, would be more malleable. Thus, when I brought the brush back into position, I was able to manipulate the entire globe via slight adjustments in the way I was impaling its tip on the bristles. After her initial shock at what was happening to her breast, Mary discovered that she was being surprisingly aroused by this new form of self immolation. In fact, after several minutes, she admitted to me, in a voice choked with emotion, that, for the first time in her life, she believed that she could be brought to orgasm through the stimulation of her breasts alone. I had been long fascinated by the idea of bringing a woman to orgasm in this way, and so her admission greatly excited me and encouraged me to try. With this goal in mind, I studied Mary's reactions carefully and, when I saw that further attention to her right breast would exceed the threshold at which her discomfort might diminish her pleasure, I switched the brush to her left breast, where I stayed until her response indicated that I should return to her right breast. As I continued alternating between her breasts, Mary's growing excitement manifested itself in several ways. For one thing, she renewed her grip on the toilet seat with such strength that beads of sweat started to appear on her face and sweat began trickling down her rib cage. At the same time, she began to undulate her torso in a sensuous dance which caused the breast not being teased to bob and sway in unison with the breast being manipulated by the brush. Also, her eyes, which had become slightly misty, were fixed on her own image in the mirror, where she had a clear view of the torment to which I was subjecting her breasts. Finally, as time when on, she played an increasingly active role in the proceedings. Namely, by hunching her shoulders forward, she was purposefully forcing her breasts into greater contact with the bristles, and at no time did she attempt to protect them from their fate. I continued this routine for about fifteen minutes, by the end of which time her distended nipples had acquired a deep red glow. When it became clear that she had derived as much excitement as she could from what I was doing and that continuation might begin to lessen her excitement, I put the brush aside and replaced it with my hands. I knew that her breasts would be warm from their ordeal, but I had no idea that they would be actually hot. However, when I cupped her breasts with my hands, they seemed to emit heat into my palms. I was also shocked to find how completely impressionable they seemed to have become. Wherever my probing fingers touched her breasts, they left behind a visible trace of the sort left when skin has been slapped. Thus, when I palpated her hanging breasts and molded them with my hands, their surface became mottled. On the other hand, even though their time under the brush had left Mary's breasts extremely tender, it was clear that their tenderness was of a nature which made them more, not less, receptive to my touch. Confirmation of this conclusion appeared on Mary's face, where a look of ecstasy now replaced the tension which had been written on it, and in her neck and shoulders, where a mild pink flush replaced the earlier strain. In the hope that it would help her achieve the climax which we were both seeking for her, I began a systematic milking of her breasts. That is, by clasping one breast at a time with both hands, I induced a peristaltic motion in the breast by squeezing it firmly, starting at its base and progressing along its sides, until I reached the nipple, on which I then tugged, in much the same way as one would tug on the teat of a cow. Mary and I had often discussed whether her breasts would produce milk if I were to consistently milk them in the way I was now, and, in the course of experimentation, we had learned that, although no milk was ever forthcoming, Mary derived enormous pleasure from our attempts in this direction. Thus, considering the tender state in which the brush had left them, neither of us was surprised to find that, on this occasion, Mary's response to my milking efforts was overwhelming. Within minutes she enhanced the availability of her breasts by resting her elbows on her knees and leaning forward so that her breasts became more like udders waiting to be relieve of their bounty. Moreover, as I turned her nipples into teats by tugging on them, she began to emit a sort of satisfied cooing sound which bore a considerable resemblance to the lowing of a contented cow. Noting how much she enjoyed having her nipples tugged, I grasped one nipple between the fingers of each hand and, by alternately raising one hand while lowering the other, I made her breasts into a pair of fleshy bellows as they were alternately forced flat against her chest and then pulled away from her body into the shape of cone. Because her sweat had made them slick, I had to exert considerable pressure to maintain my grip on her nipples. Nonetheless, Mary's pleasure in what was happening to her breasts grew and grew until, while, literally crushing her breasts into my hands, she achieved the orgasm for which we both were striving. Once her orgasm subsided, Mary leaned forward, put her lips next to mine, and expressed her gratitude for my success in relieving the boredom of a rainy afternoon. A Rainy Afternoon She stands at the counter, the kitchen table behind her. Staring out the window watching the rain, she fails to notice that he had come up behind her. He grabs a fistful of her hair and yanks her head back, a smile creeping up on his lips when he hears her soft yelp of pain. His free hand runs up her side, the back of his palm brushing against her breast. He yanks her head back again before slowly wrapping his hand around her throat. Bending his head down to her ear, he nibbles on her lobe, gently tightening his hand around her throat. Upon hearing her moan, he whispers to her, telling her to fight against him. Taking his hand off of her throat, he spins her around to face him, pulling her head back a bit farther, watching her eyes widen against the pain. His free hand rests at the base of her throat, sliding down catching her shirt between her breasts, tearing it apart. She tries to pull away and he yanks her head back again. Her tits press against her bra with each breath she takes, he bends his head down and bites at her nipples. He pulls her head back again when he hears her stifle a scream, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing her. His head still lowered to her nipples he looks up, bites down hard on each one, explaining that until she starts fighting him she's going to keep getting her head yanked back. She laces her fingers through his hair and yanks back trying to dislodge her nipple from between his teeth. He laughs low in his throat, his hand slowly running up her thigh, telling her to fight harder. She tries grabbing at his hand, getting her head yanked back again. Getting annoyed with her pathetic struggle, he turns them around making her stand against the table. He pushes her head down, his hand on her neck, holding her there as his free hand reaches up the skirt she's wearing. Tearing her panties down her legs and pushing up the hem of the skirt, he stands there a moment enjoying the picture laid out before him. Sliding the tips of his fingers up the back of her thighs, he pushes her head back down. She pushes against the hand on her neck, pulling at it with her hands. With his free hand, he takes both of hers and holds them behind her back. He spreads her legs farther apart with his foot. Removing his hand from her neck, he leans his forearm on her back, keeping her down as he ties her hands together. He places his hand back on her neck pushing her down, and unbuttons and unzips his pants releasing his rock hard cock. He stands to the side of her, running his fingers across her pussy lips, sliding them in between, pinching her clit hard. His fingers getting wet, he shoves them inside her eliciting a soft moan from her lips. He then brings his fingers to her lips, orders her to suck them clean as he slowly runs the head of his cock along her wet lips. When he feels her obey, wrapping her mouth around his fingers, he slams the entire length of his cock deep inside her. She bites his fingers upon his penetration, he locks his fingers in her hair and pulls sharply. Slowly he withdraws his cock and she releases his fingers. She whimpers in protest, trying to push her hips against his cock. He slams his cock deeps inside her once more and slowly withdraws again. He pushes the head of his cock against her ass. She shakes her head no, knowing she mustn't say anything. He pushes his cock a little deeper and pulls her hair. He withdraws, tells her that she will take every inch of his hard cock and then slams the entire length of his cock in her ass. She cries out in pain, trying to free her hands from her bonds. He pulls her head back, telling her to stop, that it's not that bad, he starts thrusting in and out of her ass. With his free hand, he shoves three of his fingers deep in her pussy, his thumb rubbing against her clit. He reaches into the drawer behind him and retrieves the vibrator he had placed in there earlier. He turns it on and as he continues to slam into her ass he places against her clit, then slides it deep inside her pussy. Hearing her moan, he pushes her legs farther apart and starts thrusting the vibrator in and out of her pussy in time with each thrust into her ass. He slides his cock out of her ass, and removes the vibrator. He then shoves the vibrator up her ass when he feels her close to orgasm. Just before she cums, he slams his cock into her dripping wet pussy. He reaches up and pinches first one nipple, then the other, his nails biting into her flesh. He leaves the vibrator in her ass and starts slamming in and out of her pussy, feeling it contract around him. Her breathing quickens, moans slipping past her lips more frequently, when she starts shaking. He continues thrusting in and out of her until she screams his name as she has orgasm after orgasm. He thrusts every inch of his cock deep inside her one last time, feeling the vibrator against his entire length as his orgasm overtakes him. He removes the vibrator, cleans it off and places it back in the drawer. He withdraws his cock, wipes it off and refastens his pants. Her hands still behind her back and leaning over the table, he kneels down behind her and slowly licks the intensely sensitive flesh of her pussy, pulling up her panties when he's done licking her clean. He pulls her skirt down, unties her hands, pulls her upright and turns her to face him. Asking if she enjoyed it, he kisses her lips when she nods her head yes. He lets her go and walks away, already planning their next encounter. She ties her shirt together under her breasts and turns back to the window. She runs her fingers against her lips and smiles slowly as she watches the rain continue to come down. A Rainy Afternoon in Barcelona We were on holiday in lovely Barcelona, a southern European city on a short break. It was a nice place and we were enjoying our stay having been there a few days already. This day had started out fine and we had spent the morning having a leisurely time walking around city seeing the sights and doing a bit of shopping. As the day wore on it began to cloud over and as we were wandering along the main shopping street heading back towards our hotel a rain shower started. Looking around to find somewhere to take shelter, Jane noticed a sign above a doorway on the other side of the street between the larger shops. She pointed it out to me, 'Sex Museum' it read. Seeing as this was smack bang in the middle of the main shopping area and not down some seedy back ally I figured that it would be okay to take a look, we could at least pass the time till the shower was over and it might be fun too. We hurriedly crossed the street and went into the narrow entrance. There was a little booth where we paid our entrance fee to a young lady before climbing a set of steep steps leading into a series of rooms situated above the retail shops below. The exhibits were what you would probably call more in the arena of erotica than pornography. They featured things like phallic and fertility symbols from various cultures, the karma sutra, old erotic paintings or drawings, stuff like that. We spent about half an hour having a wander round in mild amusement and curiosity looking at the exhibits whilst trying not to catch the eye too much of the few other visitors who were probably just there seeking shelter themselves. By then the rain looked like it was settling in for the day so we decided to make a run for our hotel and so hastily made our way back through the tall narrow streets to our cozy little place in the old quarter of the city. Our room was on the 3rd floor with a little balcony overlooking a narrow street below, it was small but comfy. We opened a bottle of wine that we had bought earlier and relaxed, perhaps reading for a bit or trying to make sense of the foreign TV. I suppose that visiting the museum had aroused us a bit, and after a couple of glasses the drink helped too as neither of us are big drinkers by any stretch. Soon we were feeling randy and not a little drunk as we snuggled up lying on the bed together kissing. I was running my hands over her lovely bum. I got up and pulled the curtains over the tall windows and then went back to lay with Jane in the dim light of the overcast day. I undid the buttons of her jeans and slid them down, throwing them onto the floor by the bed. We lay back down together and my hand returned to caressing her bum and as we kissed again I slowly moved it around to the front of her crotch to lightly trace the groove of her sex through the material of her pretty little knickers. My cock was by now rock hard and straining inside my jeans. I slipped my hand down inside the front of her little knickers brushing my fingers over the short trimmed hair of her mound to seek out her soft wet slit. I ran my finger up and down it a couple of times before gently pushing against her pussy to find, and then slide into her hot and wet little hole. Jane gasped softly in my ear. I withdrew my wetted finger and used the lubrication to slowly circle her clit with my finger tip. Jane's breath quickened and she began to writhe with pleasure as I continued, every now and then I'd dip my finger back into her cunt for some more juice. Jane undid my belt buckle and jeans front and pulled my erect cock out from inside my pants and began to slowly rub it up and down, it felt really nice. Not wanting to cum myself yet and wanting to enjoy pleasuring Jane for longer, after a short while I pulled away from her contact and getting her to lift her bum I slid her knickers off down her shapely legs and they joined her jeans on the floor. Now she had just a short T-shirt type top on. I then pulled my jeans and pants off too. Jane lay back on the bed and as I lay down with her and kissed her mouth as she opened out her thighs allowing me total access to her pussy. I rubbed at it with my fingers feeling its soft warmth before easing first one, then two fingers into her vagina to explore that hot little cave. I slowly finger fucked her pussy, sliding in and out easily as it was so wet in there with her love juices. I felt her grip my fingers with her muscles in there as she pushed her hips up to meet my insertions. I kissed my way down her body until I was between her thighs and then with my fingers still pushed up inside her I poked my tongue out to lap at her clitoris, still hidden in its little hood at the top of her slit. Jane gasped with pleasure. 'That's nice.' She sighed quietly to me. I continued to pleasure her like this for a short while and then I took my fingers back out. Looking closely at her lovely little pussy I carefully spread it open to peer into the lovely pink interior, I love to look at her pussy like this, sometimes she will spread herself open for me to see, I like that a lot too! But now I had the irresistible urge to taste its sweet juices and explore its folds and depths with my tongue. I ran my tongue in a circle over the taunt stretched skin of her pink inner labia and then licked up and down the divide in the middle savoring the fruity musky flavour of her sex. Every circuit or two I'd flicker my tongue over the bud of her clitoris, now exposed to me. Jane moaned her enjoyment of my actions. I spread her wider and lapped at the puckered entrance to her vaginal passage before plunging my tongue into it to really taste her. Having thoroughly enjoyed myself so far I decided that I'd better stop teasing her and so went back to stimulating her clit, licking and sucking on it as her breathing began to get heavier and faster until pushing her hips up to me and wriggling she gasped loudly and came, then subsided back onto the bed. I moved up the bed to lay with her while she recovered. 'That was nice!' she gasped. 'Good.' I replied, pleased to have been of service. We kissed passionately and I felt her tongue tasting herself on my mouth, I like that, I think it is really sexy of her. Now it was my turn. Jane slipped off of the bed and pulled me round to sit on the edge. Now Jane was on her knees in front of me as I sat on the side of the bed. She took my cock into her mouth and gently sucked at it while she slowly worked her hand up and down the shaft. She pulled back and watched as she squeezed making clear liquid drip from the end. She sensually lapped at it tasting me. She then took me back deep into her mouth, fucking my cock with her soft mouth and tongue taking it out now and then to flicker her tongue lightly over my pursed foreskin as she pulled it forward. I really like it when she does that to it. She poked the tip of her tongue into the little purse and licked at the slit on the end of my penis. With my cock half in her mouth she breathed hoarsely. 'Spank me.' Then again 'Go on spank me.' I reached forward over her back and rather faint heartedly slapped her across her pert backside. 'Harder.' She said. I slapped again with a bit more force and she moaned softly. Again, harder still and her body jerked from the pain. 'Is that alright?' I asked, afraid that I might be really hurting her. 'Yes, it's nice. Keep doing it.' She urged. My open hand fell across her buttocks in repeated strikes making a sharp report with each blow and her cheeks grew a rosy red. We'd never done this before but she was obviously really getting off on it as she was sucking at my hard erection with ardor. I changed to the other side using my other hand until both her buttocks had well and truly been punished. Jane left my cock and climbed up onto the bed to kneel on it on all fours with her red backside facing me. 'Now fuck me, fuck me hard!' she urged lustily. I moved around on the bed to position myself behind her, my cock rigid in my hand. I pushed it up against her rear and experiencing some difficulty gaining entry pushed hard and suddenly slipped in. Jane gasped at my entry into her. Holder her by the hips I began to fuck her, pushing my cock in and out of her, varying the speed and depth of my stroke, my cock felt like it was enveloped in a velvet glove, but something felt wrong somehow? I reached down and around to her front and began to rub her clit with the aim of increasing her pleasure and was surprised to find that her pussy hole was also available to me! I have to say in my defence that I was feeling fairly drunk at the time and before I'd figured out what was going on I felt the wave of pleasure as I came inside her. I pulled out and collapsed back on the bed, spent. Jane turned to me and said. 'You'd better go and wash that now.' Then I realized that I really had done what I thought I'd done! I'd fucked her up the arse, not something we'd ever done before. 'I thought something was wrong, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to.' I apologized. 'Don't worry, its okay.' Jane reassured me. 'Go clean-up then we'll have a nice cuddle in bed.' When I returned from the bathroom Jane was slipping on a pair of panties and climbing into the sheets. I snuggled in with her and drifted off into that wonderful half sleep that follows good sex. The hotel room was dim and faintly you could hear the sounds of the street outside. It was warm and cozy cuddled up together under the sheets. We lay like this for some time before I was suddenly roused from my dreamy state by Jane pulling at my hand. 'Come on.' she said. 'Where are we going?' I asked puzzled. 'Just come on.' She replied, leading me out of bed. We quickly went to the back of the room and then into the bathroom. Jane hopped into the bath and then I knew what she was up to and that I was in for a really special treat. She pulled her panties down to middle of her thighs and then stood still holding my hand for a few moments. I watched in excited anticipation. Suddenly Jane began to pee for me. Golden liquid gushed out of her slit to pour into the crotch of her panties and then splash into the bath, my eyes were riveted to the highly erotic sight. I watched as the panties quickly became soaked with her piss, she went for quite a while and I enjoyed every second of it. When she finally finished going I said. 'That was really nice, thank you.' She smiled back at me. Turning on the shower she stepped out of her wet panties and rinsed them and her legs off before we returned to the bed to make love again. I think that we gave anything in the Sex Museum a good run for its money that day!