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Desire

By: angel`29



He sits across the room in his plush over stuffed chair. A cigarette in his mouth. Watching her through the haze of smoke, as she sits on pillows by the fireplace. He smiles as she runs her fingers through her long wavy hair. Her face glows from the light of the dancing flames in the fireplace. His eyes shine as she throws her head back, her chest thrusting forth as the firelight catches her silhouette under her sheer blue-green silks. 

The outline of her hard nipples down to the underline of her breast. As she breathes in and out he shifts in his chair watching her. Never taking his eyes off her, he reaches over and puts his cigarette out. Standing, he bends and runs his hands down his legs pushing his jeans down his boots, his eyes keeping her in his sight. She raises from her heels, her hips thrusting forward, thighs spreading wide as she runs her hands down her body, over her breast, tummy, down to her parted thighs, as she runs her fingers slowly up her thighs raising her silks as she does. He straightens and watches her some more. She moves her hands higher on her thighs as she takes her silks with her hands. Slowly she licks her slightly parted lips. 

He places his hands on his hips watching. Slowly he takes a step toward her, making his way across the room slowly. Reaching her he moves in font of her. Bending slightly he places his hands under her arms and pulls her up to him. She looks into his eyes. Passion burning in her eyes as is in his. He wraps his left arm around her waist pulling her even closer to him as he wraps his fingers in her hair. Wrapping her arms around his neck he presses his lips to hers. Kissing her hard, deep, and passionately. Pulling her head back more as he thrust he tongue deep into her hot mouth, exploring with his tongue as he runs his left hand down over her ass cupping it as he lifts her up. She wraps her legs around his waist as he presses her to him harder. 

Feeling him against her she moans into the kiss as he thrust his tongue in and out of her mouth. Tugging on her hair. He turns holding her to him as he walks across the room back to his chair. He holds her tightly to him as he sits down. Straddling him she places her hands on the back of his chair as he pulls her hair to raise her head to look at him. She looks him in the eye as he runs his finger over her breast. She breaths deeply as he touches her. 

Taking a hold of her silks he pulls hard and removes them in one swift movement. Pulling her up to him as he lowers his head taking her left nipple into his mouth. He sucks hard, biting it softly as he runs his tongue over it. Running his hand over her right breast and down her belly, he slides his finger down along her clit. Rubbing her clit as he sucks on her nipples she moans deeply feeling his fingers and mouth on her body. 

Her juices flow as her body comes alive with desire rocking her hips against his hand, his own desire for her takes over his body as he reaches down and undoes his pants. He places himself against her opening as he moves his hands to her waist. She wraps her arms around his neck as he pushes up at the same time pushing her down. Moaning loudly with desire as he slams into her all the way. 

She moves with him as he takes her to greater heights. Holding her close to him as she bends her head, kissing and biting his neck and shoulder, her muscles tighten and release him as her soul cries out with pleasure. She cums hard as her body shakes in his arms and her insides quiver. He throbs inside her as he slams into her hard and deep, he cums with such a force he thought he never had. 

Kissing her neck softly as her shuddering subsides. He takes her face in his hands kissing her lips softly as he throbs deep inside her. His hands tangle in her hair as she rocks her hips slowly. Kissing him as her hands run across his shoulders. He whispers..."you were amazing" 

she looks at him smiling and whispers......"so were you."

Desire



1

She couldn't help it. When she saw him she felt a flutter through her body that took her completely by surprise. He pulled up in a big, beat up, old pickup truck with those really loud exhaust pipes, and a trailer on the back that carried his lawn machinery. She had just stepped out to get the mail. He was pulling the cord on the lawn mower. When he heard her, he looked up, and she was in shock. Shocked by what just looking at him did to her. He was perfectly formed. Tall, well muscled arms, deep brown tan, a mess of short blond hair, and blue eyes you could see from a mile away.

"Hello," he said. "I'm Trevor. I'll be taking care of your lawn today. How are you Mrs. Gibson?

"I'm good." She didn't know what else to say. She found it difficult to form words in her mind, let alone form them with her mouth.

"Could you trim the hedges along the driveway?" She asked. 

"I was just looking at those," he said. "I will."

"Ok. Thank you." And she ran back inside.

She leaned against the front door and noticed she was almost shaking. What the hell just happened? She went to the kitchen to catch her breath and poured herself a glass of water. My God, she thought to herself, this can't be happening. She went to the living room and looked out the window. Already the hedges were trimmed. She watched as again he struggled trying to start the lawn mower. He opened the gas cap then checked the oil. Sarah hoped he wouldn't come to the front door asking for help. Please don't. She couldn't believe how she acted earlier and didn't want to go through another peculiar moment. Or, maybe, she just didn't want to interact with him for fear he may catch a sign of what he did to her. He went to his truck, pulled out a gas can, and filled the mower. On the third pull it worked. Thank God. 

OK, she thought to herself. I'll go up to my office and do some work. Through the window, she took one last glance at the young man pushing the lawn mower, and then went upstairs. 

She sat at her desk, turned on the computer, and tried containing her thoughts. She read emails, wrote down a few notes, and realized she was completely distracted by thoughts of Trevor. She had never had a reaction to another person like this before - not even her husband. Though there had been, and still was, great attraction to the man she married, this was different. This was pure passion. Pure, debilitating, passion. Passion she wondered if she could control.

Ok. Work, she said to herself.

She picked up the phone, about to call her office, when the doorbell rang. Fuck, she said out loud. And as much as she was afraid to answer it, a part of her wanted it to be him. She stood, checked herself in a mirror, and went down to the front door. 

"Sorry Mrs. Gibson. I just nicked my arm on a branch. Do you have a band aid?" Sarah looked at his wound. A deep, two inch, scratch across his right fore arm. 

"Of course I do. Do you want to come in?"

"Sure."

"Come to the kitchen. I'll clean you off and we'll stitch it up," she said smiling, conscious of whether her words were the least bit seductive. A part of her hoped they weren't. And a part of her hoped they were.

They walked into the large gourmet kitchen with stainless steel appliances, and a large granite island in the centre.

"Sit up here."

She pulled a chair out from the island for him to sit on, opened the cupboard, and looked for some band aids and rubbing alcohol. She had to stand on her tippy toes to look into the cupboard, and she wondered if he was looking at her ass.

"You're not really going to stitch me are you?" Trevor asked.

"No. I don't think we'll need stitches. Which is good because I haven't used a needle in a while," she said smiling. 

He smiled back. "You had me worried."

"Oh, you'd have nothing to worry about. I used to be a nurse," she said.

"Really? My Mom is a nurse. So are two of my aunt's." 

"Where do they work?"

"Mount Sinai." 

"Great hospital."

"Yeah. They love their jobs."

"It is a great job."

"Yeah. They always tell me I should become a nurse."

"Why don't you?"

"I don't like needles. Or blood." 

Sarah laughed. "Either do I."

Trevor smiled. "What do you do now?" He asked.

"I'm a psychiatrist," Sarah said, opening the rubbing alcohol. 

"This might sting a bit."

"I can handle it." 

Sarah applied the alcohol. 

Trevor winced, looking into Sarah's eyes. When he did, she almost forgot what she was doing. Good lord don't look into my eyes she thought. She could feel her face blush. 

"Hold that." 

She opened the band aid and placed it on the cut.

"Ok. That should do it."

Trevor checked her work. "Good job Mrs. Gibson," he said smiling. "Thanks a lot. I thought I needed stitches."

Sarah smiled as she leaned over the counter. "I think you'll make it," she said.

"I'll get back at it,' Trevor said.

"Is there anything else you need done?' He asked from the door.

"No. the hedges were my only concern."

"Ok." And he walked out the door.

Sarah sat at the island counter, replaying their conversation in her mind. Did he sense her nervousness and excitement? Did she give any hint of her attraction to him? She noticed the magnetism between them while they talked. Did he feel it too?

This is nuts, she thought. I'm 39 years old. He's probably 19. Put him out of your mind. Besides, you're married, with two kids. Why would he remotely find interest in me? Again, Sarah walked to the window. She knew she shouldn't, but something inside her couldn't stop. One last look. She peeked through the drapes and watched as he rode the lawn mower across her property. She wanted to be close to him, feel his breath on her neck, smell his skin. 

Sarah went upstairs to her bedroom. She partially closed the curtains, layed on her bed and closed her eyes. She undid her pants and pulled them down to her knees. She pulled her panties aside and stroked herself with her fingers. In her mind she pictured riding Trevor, feeling him deep inside her. She imagined him licking her breasts and tightly holding her ass while she pleasured herself with him. Dear God, she whispered, completely lost in fantasy. I shouldn't be doing this, she thought, knowing that masturbating thinking of him would only enhance her attraction. Oh, fuck, she gasped, as orgasm rippled through her mind and body.

She lay on her bed enjoying deep relief, and allowed her mind to settle. She got out of bed, walked over to the window, and noticed Trevor was gone. Disappointed, she told herself this was good as she had work to do. So, she went back to her office and got on with her work day.

That night, while lying in bed, she allowed her mind to wander on thoughts of Trevor. Paul, her husband, had fallen asleep quickly and so, in the dark, unable to sleep, she fantasized. 

How could it happen? What scenario would allow her and Trevor to be together? Maybe she'd run into him at the grocery store or the mall. Maybe, while walking through the forest trail one night, he'd be there. There we go. That would be interesting. Alone, secluded. Sarah imagined the scene in her mind. He'd be sitting on a fallen tree in the forest. She would approach him, smile, say hello, sit down beside him. She imagined him whispering in her ear. She would put her hand on his leg and look at the tall trees in the forest around them. She would draw small circles on his thigh, and slowly move her hand higher. He would lean in and kiss her neck. The thought of his soft lips on her neck made her wet. Her hand would move across his lap up to the waist of his jeans. His kissing would become harder, with gentle strokes from his tongue. He would gently suck her throat trying to leave marks, and as much as the feeling made her weak, she'd pull away. You can't leave any marks she'd say. 

Stand up, she'd tell him. She'd undo the button of his jeans while keeping an eye out for any passerby. In her mind, she saw herself pulling down his pants and taking his enormous cock in her hands. Should we be doing this Mrs. Gibson? He'd ask. I don't know Trevor. Should we stop? She would say, looking up at him. No? And then she'd take him in her mouth.

In bed, Sarah could feel herself becoming wet, she could feel her clit throbbing. She wondered if her husband would notice if she fingered herself gently under the blankets. Instead, she went downstairs to get a drink of water. 

She got out of bed and went down to the kitchen. After sipping a cold glass of water she let her hand slide between her legs. She could feel the wet fullness of her clit. In the dark, she leaned against the cold, stone, counter and stroked herself. Again, she imagined Trevor's cock in her mouth, and his hands holding her head as she took him deeper and deeper. She could hear him moan and taste his ejaculate as he readied to cum.

"Cum baby," she'd say to him. "Cum in my mouth." His hands tighter on her head, his body tensing as she sucked faster.

In the kitchen she was lost in dream. Her fingers rapidly stimulating herself. She fought to stay quiet as her body climaxed at the thought of Trevor pulsating in her mouth. After a satisfying orgasm, Sarah stood silent in the kitchen. This is nuts she thought. What am I going to do? She convinced herself she could put him out of her mind, and that tomorrow she would probably not think twice about him. With that, she went back to bed.

For the next few days Trevor floated through Sarah's mind as an occasional daydream, And as the day drew closer for when he would be back to cut the lawn, she felt slight pangs of excitement stir within her. She spent more time checking herself out in mirrors as if trying to convince herself she was attractive. She knew she was. All her friends, and even her husband, were constantly commenting on how good she looked, particularly for her age. She worked out regularly, and except for the slight graying in her hair that was usually taken care of by a visit to the hair salon, her hair was still as long and lustrous as it had been back in college. 

And so the question presented itself. Could she seduce this young man? Did she still have what it took? She almost considered it a challenge - a challenge she was torn on whether she should take.

She decided she would definitely take a shot during his next visit. See if she could catch his attention so to speak. After deciding this, she went up to her closet to look for something she would wear.

The weather for Thursday was calling for extreme heat. The temperature over the past few weeks had been up near the ninties and it showed no sign of letting up. I'll have to wear something skimpy Sarah thought to herself, as she examined her closet. She pulled a pair of blue shorts from the shelf and tried them on. Looking in the mirror she wondered if maybe they were a little too short. She turned around and saw they barely covered her ass. After feeling the thrill of wearing such a revealing piece of clothing, she decided she'd wear them, with a white cotton t-shirt, not too tight, and no bra. She didn't have large breasts, but they were a nice shape, and they were big enough to catch an eye. The idea of wearing such a provocative outfit for Trevor gave Sarah a feeling of exhilaration. She felt nervous and excited and couldn't wait until the next day when she'd see him. Now, one last thing to consider - panties? Or no panties? No panties, she decided. She loved the feeling of not wearing panties.

On Thursday morning Sarah could hardly contain herself. After Paul left for his long commute to work and the kids were picked up for day camp, Sarah sat on the front veranda drinking coffee. She was becoming very nervous at the thought of what might happen that day. She had no intention of making any move, but she was very interested in what Trevor's response might be to her flirtations. After finishing her coffee, she went upstairs to put on the clothes she hoped to entice him with.

While she slipped into her way too tight shorts, she heard his truck pull up in front of her house. A nervous smile spread across her face. She pulled on her t-shirt, checked herself in the mirror, then went downstairs.

"Good morning Trevor," she said stepping onto the front veranda.

"Good morning", Trevor said, pulling his lawn equipment off the truck. 

Sarah looked up at the sky. Clouds were moving in from the west. 

"It's not supposed to rain today is it?"

"Yeah. It is. I didn't think until this afternoon, but those clouds say different. It's ok though, I brought my rain coat."

Sarah smiled. She noticed he hadn't looked at her yet. "If there's lightening don't hesitate to come in the house ok?"

"All right Mrs. Gibson. But I should be done before the rain starts."

Still, he hadn't looked at her. She stepped off the veranda and walked to the garden in front of the house, hoping to catch his attention. 

"Do you pull weeds?" She asked, bending over, looking at a large patch of crabgrass that was taking over the garden.

"Yes. That crabgrass? I can take of that for you."

His arm brushed against hers as he came and stood beside her. He stepped into the garden and began pulling out the weeds. 

"Do you want some help?" She asked, wanting to be close to him.

"Sure. You could grab a bag out of my truck. We'll put these in it."

"Ok." She said, and walked over to his truck to get a bag.

She opened the bag and stood it next to where they were working.

"If you have things to do Mrs. Gibson, I can do this. It won't take me long."

"Oh no. I love gardening. Wish I had more time for it." She enjoyed being near him, the feeling it gave her, almost as if electricity passed from him to her. 

Rain drops began to fall as the last weeds were pulled. 

"Go on inside, Mrs. Gibson. I can finish out here."

"Oh no. Get those last few and I'll take the bag to the garage."

She was delaying, hoping the rain would fall, and wet her thin, white, cotton t-shirt. Thunder cracked in the distance. 

"You won't be able to do the lawn today Trevor. Would you be able to come back tomorrow?"

Finally, he looked up at her from the garden. His blue eyes momentarily fixing on her breasts. Got him. She could tell he was embarrassed at having looked at her that way. She half smiled and scratched her arm. 

"I, I," Trevor stumbled with his words. "I'm sorry Mrs. Gibson. Yes," he said, quickly gathering his tools from the garden. "I can come back tomorrow."

The rain fell harder as she bent down beside him, her shoulder softly brushing against his. 

"Come in the house and dry off before you leave," she said.

"I will. You go inside." His eyes locked on hers. 

Another boom of thunder. The rain turned into a downpour as Sarah ran for the front door. She watched Trevor through the window as he threw his tools in the back of his truck, then ran up to the front door. She opened the door and let him in. 

"Wow, that came up awfully quick," Trevor said, as he pulled the hood of his rain jacket off his head. Sarah didn't respond. She just stood at the doorway, soaking wet, staring into Trevor's eyes wanting him to look at her, at her bare breasts beneath her t-shirt, at her wet thighs and chest. 

"Take off your coat," she said. But he didn't. Instead he did something completely unexpected. He stepped in close to her, touched her face, and softly kissed her. Shocked, she stood there, letting him kiss her, feeling his soft lips on hers, his hands roaming her body - her arms, her hips, her neck. 

"Take me Trevor," she said under her breath. "I want to be yours. Right now." He pulled her close and Sarah could feel his hardness on her waist. He pushed her against the wall and furiously tried to undo her shorts. Frustrated, he ripped open the button, and tore her shorts off her body. She fumbled with the button on his pants, desperately wanting to feel him in her hands. This was happening so fast, so quick, but there was no stopping. She was going to fuck him right there in the front entrance way of her home. "Come," she said pulling him to a small table in the hall. She leaned back on the table not taking her lips from his. She grasped his large, hot, cock, and directed it into her pussy. 

"We shouldn't be doing this," she heard Trevor say, as she pulled him into her. Fuck. His cock was so big, so thick, so long, and it felt so good slipping into her. 

"We should stop Mrs. Gibson," Trevor said, trying to resist. But it was too late. It was already done. He was already inside her.

What Sarah found most surprising, was the aggression in the way he fucked her. Just like her fantasy, his hands squeezed her ass. He sucked and bit her breasts, and her neck, and though she was afraid he would leave marks, she let him have his way with her.

"Can we go upstairs?" He asked, in a low breathy voice.

"Let's go to my bed."

Without letting go of her, Trevor picked Sarah up off the table and carried her up to her room. He threw her on her bed and took off the rest of his clothes.

He stood at the side of the bed and wrapped his hand in Sarah's hair. He said nothing, just looked into her eyes. She knew what he wanted her to do.

She looked at his lean, muscular, body standing above her. Looking into his eyes, she moved to the edge of the bed and took him in her mouth.

"Touch yourself", he said, firmly pulling her hair. "Now."

Sarah felt a shrill of fear, as her fingers softly caressed her clit. She had not expected Trevor to be so aggressive, but she did as told and fingered herself while sucking his cock, discovering how wet she was and how badly she wanted him to fuck her any way he wanted.

"Lay back," he said. "Lay back on the bed."

Sarah did as told and layed back on the bed.

"Open your legs."

She opened her legs hoping he could see how wet she was.

He pulled her to the end of the bed so her legs hung over the edge. He bent down and placed her legs over his shoulders.

"Close your eyes."

"My eyes are closed," she whispered.

She felt his tongue on her knee. Slowly rolling up her leg into her thigh.

One hand was tight on her hip and the other roamed freely across her belly, and then softly to the top of her clit. His thumb pressed firmly against her labia while his tongue gently glided from the bottom of her soft lips to the top where he mad small circles with his tongue.

Sarah let out a deep breath, her eyes rolling and closed while he stroked her. She felt his fingers slip easily into her.

"Oh my God. Oh my sweet, sweet beautiful God."

Just as she was about to cum she felt Trevor quickly stand up, lift her hips, and with his thumb rapidly rubbing her, he jammed the full length of his cock deep inside her.

She never felt anything like it. Contractions throughout her entire body. Her legs tightened around his waist. Her feet, toes, hands and brain felt an absolute, surreal, feeling of relief, as if her soul literally lifted out of her body. She thrust her hips forward wanting to take as much of him into her as she possibly could, wanting every inch. And when she did, she felt it again, a complete physical and mental bliss that she had never experienced in her life, as if God himself was caressing her soul, lifting and enveloping her into heaven. Tears welled in her eyes, as she clenched her fists against Trevor's body, pushing him away, feeling as if she couldn't take another moment of such an ecstatic state of being.

"Oh no Mrs. Gibson, we're not done yet. Turn over."

Almost lifelessly, she rolled over and felt his hands caress her soft, smooth, ass.

"You look so beautiful laying there on your bed Mrs. Gibson. Do you want me to fuck you again?

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes please. Fuck me again."

And before she could take another breath she felt him inside her, full and whole, reaching parts of her she never knew existed. Slowly, in methodical rhythm, he rammed into her from behind, steadily increasing the pace of thrusts. Sarah clenched her bed sheet and buried her face into the pillow, muffling her screams as he drove into her, harder and harder and harder.




Desire



"Cum baby," she said, again feeling the pleasure swell inside her. "Oh God, cum baby," this time with more urgency. And then the rush. She could feel him pulse inside of her, as his hands tightened on her ass. She also felt the rush, like a strong current, as she pushed back against him taking him deep. Sarah rolled back so she could face Trevor as he fell on top of her, taking her breast in his mouth. She felt the soft flick of his tongue on her nipple, stimulating her again. She could feel their wetness leak from her, and felt an urge to beg to be fucked again.

"Not again Mrs. Gibson." She heard Trevor say. "Not today. Maybe next week. And next time I'll bring a friend."

2

What did he mean by that? Sarah wondered laying on her bed, listening as Trevor's truck started up and drove down the lane way. A real friend? A toy? What did he mean when he slipped out of her, got himself dressed and left her for dead, half naked on her bed, smiling, saying he'd bring a friend? Sarah sat up, wrapped herself in a blanket, went to the bathroom, and started a bath. Though it was mid morning, and there were things to do, she needed to relax and clear her mind after what had happened that day. 

She stepped into the warm, fragranced, bathwater and layed back in the tub. Almost instantly, her eyes were closed and her mind drifted to thoughts of Trevor and the sex they had that morning. She still could not believe how aggressive and controlled he had been. In her fantasies, she was the dominant figure, she was the one taking the initiative, showing him things she thought he would only have had imagined. But there she was, obedient to his every command and desire, performing as if she were his slave. And she liked that thought - enslaved to a beautiful, surprisingly experienced, young man. 

And now he had proposed another lascivious experience - sex with Trevor and his "friend". The idea played in her mind as she relaxed in the bath. Having sex with two men. The thought excited her like nothing else. Already, she felt the stir in her chest and belly and between her legs. She would be slaves to both. And she would love every minute of it. 

After her bath, Sarah dried her body, brushed her hair and got dressed. Again, she wore no panties and decided on wearing skin tight jeans and a tank top. She loved the way she enjoyed dressing a little slutty since involving herself with Trevor. She loved that he brought out the little slut in her.

She wanted to tell someone about her dirty little secret. But who? Maybe she could tell her friend Angela. She would understand. Angela was also married and had a husband who worked long hours, and who was also open-minded. Not that Paul wouldn't be upset. But she knew her husband. And they had discussed this issue before. As long as discretion, common sense, and safety were kept in mind, they allowed the other the occasional indiscretion if the opportunity presented itself. And the opportunity had certainly presented itself. Further, she knew of at least two affairs that Paul had been a part of. Though they were many years ago. 

Sarah picked up the phone to call Angela, but as she dialed the number, something told her to hang up the phone. As understanding as Angela was, Sarah was uncertain if she wanted to share her indiscretion. She liked having it to herself, her own little secret. She would tell Angela, just not now.

Looking at the clock, Sarah realized she had a conference call coming up with the hospital regarding a new patient under her care. She quickly went downstairs, made herself some lunch, and resided to her office where she prepared for a very long afternoon.

That evening after dinner, and after putting the kids to bed, Sarah sat downstairs contemplating whether or not to share with Paul what had happened that day. She felt pangs of guilt during dinner, and had the feeling that she was putting on a facade that he could easily see through. They had known each other a long time, and though he spent a lot of time away from home, she knew he could sense when something had changed. His discovery of her escapade would happen at some point in time. She wanted to deal with it quickly and appropriately.

"Paul, would you come sit with me for a minute?

Paul shut off his computer and walked from his den into the family room, taking a seat next to Sarah on the couch.

"What is it hon? He asked.

Sarah looked at him, then looked down at her legs and rubbed her knee with her hand.

"Paul I have something to tell you," she said. 

"Ok," Paul said. "Let's hear it."

Sarah searched for the words to say. 

"Ok, so, I'm just going to say it and I want you to think about your response and how you feel about it." 

"I'm not one of your patients Sarah. Tell me what it is." 

Sarah took a deep breath and began her story.

"We have a new young man doing our property maintenance."

"Yes. Trevor I think his name is."

"Yes. Trevor."

Sarah thought about how she should present her situation.

Paul sat looking at Sarah's eyes, searching for some hint as to what she was trying to say.

"So, this morning, I was helping him in the garden when a storm came up. I told him to come into the house until it was over. Or at least until the lightening stopped. So he did. And something happened."

Paul smiled. Still unsure what Sarah was getting at. "Ok. So, what happened?"

Sarah sat silent. Then said, "He kissed me."

She looked at Paul's face, trying to read his reaction. Paul sat silent, and checked his emotions.

"Is that it? He kissed you?"

"No. There's more."

Paul stood up from the couch and paced the family room.

"Paul, we had sex."

Paul stopped pacing and looked at Sarah. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. 

Sarah sat on the couch watching Paul, beginning to feel slight threat. She wasn't sure he was going to take this as well as she had thought.

Paul sat in the chair across from Sarah and looked into her eyes.

"Thank you for telling me Sarah." He took another deep breath and let it out, and actually smiled.

"Ok, so, where are we? Do you still love me? Is this about something I'm not giving you? Why did this happen?" 

"I can't really say. And yes I still love you. I wasn't wanting or looking for anything. He showed up at our house, and I found him attractive. And I acted on it."

"Why?" Paul asked

"I don't know." Sarah said. "Except for you, I had never felt an attraction so intense. It was intoxicating, literally debilitating. I can only compare it to addiction. I lost all sense."

Paul sat quiet.

"When he kissed me there was no stopping. I knew we shouldn't have gone any further, but I couldn't control myself."

Paul remained quiet, listening to his wife. He was beginning to calm down. He also found himself being incredibly turned on. He had fantasized about his wife having sex with other men, often imagining her in various exotic sexual positions with them. And now it had happened, and he found it very arousing. Paul looked at her legs and imagined this other young man's hands on them. He looked at her breasts and wondered if he licked or sucked her nipples the way she liked. And then he looked in her eyes, and felt a need to fuck her like he had never felt before. 

"Sarah, I'd like us to go upstairs."

Sarah looked into her husband's eyes, confused by his intention. She had just confessed infidelity and he wanted her to go up to their room and have sex. She really couldn't believe it, though she understood. This had been an incredibly intimate moment and he was aroused by it. She also knew he needed to reaffirm his domain - reclaim what was his. And though she'd been more than satisfied that morning, she stood, took his hand, and walked with him up to their bedroom.

They layed naked beside each other on the bed. After taking some time stroking and caressing one another, Sarah rolled on top of her husband and rubbed his cock between her legs. 

"Tell me what he did to you," Paul whispered in Sarah's ear.

"You don't want me to do that," Sarah replied. 

"Tell me," he repeated, his hand pulling her head close so she could whisper in his ear. Sarah felt his other hand squeeze her ass.

"Where did it happen?" Paul asked, loving the feel of his cock on his wife's slippery pussy.

Sarah thought about the danger of telling her husband about fucking another man. At the same time, she had never felt such erotic intimacy. It was incredibly arousing, and she felt a closeness to her husband she never experienced before.

"Close your eyes, and I'll tell you everything," she said, rubbing his cock harder on her pussy, almost taking him in.

Paul closed his eyes.

Sarah leaned in close, and wrapped Paul's head in her arms.

"We started kissing downstairs in the front hall, both wet from the rain. He was so strong and forceful, and for a moment I was afraid. But then I let go, letting him have his way with me. I didn't expect it to happen. And it happened so fast. One minute, we're pulling weeds from the garden and the next..."

"The next what?" Paul asked.

"The next, we're in the front hallway, and he's ripping my shorts off me, and he's having his way with me on the table in the hall."

Paul cupped his wife's ass and slowly thrust into her.

"He was so big Paul. And I loved the way he slammed into me. I brought him upstairs to our bed."

Paul thrust harder, and Sarah could feel him deep inside her.

"On the bed he grabbed me by the hair. And I took him in my mouth. God, it felt so good - having him in my mouth. I sucked him until he couldn't take it anymore. Then he pulled out, pushed me back on the bed, and licked my pussy. He licked my pussy Paul. Just like you do. It felt so good. And just as I was about to cum, he pulled away and stuffed me with his cock. That's how I came. It was the most incredible orgasm. I only wish I had you in my mouth."

Unable to contain his lust, Paul rolled Sarah onto her back, pressed his body tightly onto hers, and thrust deeply into her. He could feel his entire cock slip into her, as he sucked her nipples.

"Tell me more," Paul said.

Sarah wrapped her legs around her husbands hips, and her hands around his head. Telling her husband about how she had been fucked by another man was beyond arousing. It lit up parts of her mind and body like nothing else. She could tell it did the same to him. He was fucking her like he never had before, in a skillfully, dominant way, as if trying recapture something that had escaped. And it felt amazing. 

"After licking me, and fucking me, he rolled me over onto my hands and knees. I felt him kissing my ass, and fingering me. Then he pushed me down onto the bed and slid himself into me, and fucked me from behind."

"I'm going to cum Sarah."

Sarah wrapped her legs tighter around Paul's hips.

"Cum baby," Sarah whispered. "Cum in me. I'm all yours." She could feel her pleasure swell inside. And with her nails digging into his back she felt her body pulsate. She could feel him shoot and throb inside her, and together, like a bomb exploding, they brought each other to a new realm. A place never seen before, a place only experienced through complete, naked, honesty. 

"That was incredible," Sarah said, more to herself than to Paul. "Incredible."

Paul stroked his wife's messed hair, examining his thoughts and emotion that their lovemaking had stirred. "I have never felt such carnal hunger for someone. I can't even explain how passionate that was. It was beyond description."

But Sarah understood. She knew the mechanism's of human sexuality. She knew that most often, sex was about possession. And that was the most passionate kind. She loved that feeling - of being possessed by a man. Laying in her husbands arms, she wondered what it might feel like to be possessed by many men. And as she closed her eyes, she lay hoping to find out when next she saw Trevor.

3

On the Thursday morning that Trevor was supposed to come to her house, Sarah awoke with anticipation. She lay in bed imagining all the things she, Trevor, and his "friend" would do. If his "friend" were a sex toy, she would let him do whatever he wanted with it. If his friend were a person, male or female, well, she would be into that too.

She imagined Trevor fucking her while she took his friend in her mouth. She thought about Trevor beneath her, inside her pussy, while his friend fucked her ass. She imagined every possible position they could fuck each other and became weak at the thought.

And if his "friend" were a girl? My gosh, wouldn't that be interesting? A sweet, young, female body to play with while Trevor had his way with them both. 

After fantasizing about the all the possibilities that could take place that day, Sarah got out of bed and showered. She washed her hair and body, shaved her legs, and then carefully shaved between her legs. Soft and smooth, she stepped out of the shower.

After blow drying her hair and brushing her teeth, Sarah walked into her closet and searched for the clothes she would wear that day. She had an exact picture in her mind of what she wanted to wear, and excitedly picked out some soft, lacey, string panties with a matching bra, and over that, she put on a thin, soft, one-piece yellow sundress that was short, almost see through, and showed off her tits in an almost subliminal way. After checking herself in the mirror, She reached for a box on the top shelf of her closet that contained a white pearl necklace with matching earrings. She put the earrings on her ears and closed the clasp of the necklace around her neck. Her body humming with anticipation. Sarah went downstairs, made herself some coffee, then went out to the backyard where she sat on a lounge chair in the shade of a large maple tree and read the paper. Feeling the soft breeze on her legs, and on her bare pussy, Sarah sat on the back deck, fighting herself to stop imagining what might happen that day. She contemplated masturbating right there in her back yard, and was quite thrilled at the idea. However, realizing the neighbors may be out on such a nice day, and that she was becoming lost in sexual excitement, she held off, wanting nothing to take away from the emotions welling up inside her. 

Instead, she let the wind blow across her body, and let the rising sun warm her skin, while she thought about Trevor. Though she had only two encounters with him, their times together were quite powerful. She had not let on to her husband how strong her feelings had become for Trevor, for at the time she herself did not understand. Now, in the quiet morning, those feeling were surfacing, and revealing emotion's she wondered if she could control. She was an intelligent woman, one who had spent most of her life studying and examining human behavior, and had been analyzing how and why such a provocative attraction had been aroused. In her logical mind, she never thought she would find herself in such a situation, and yet here she was foolishly, helplessly, imagining herself waking up with him, enslaved to him, becoming pregnant by him. 

Ah, the thought. She let it play in her mind. She could not believe she was fantasizing about it. She had two children, and vowed she would not have anymore. Yet here she was, completely lost with the idea of being pregnant with Trevor. 

Ok. Stop. Sarah told herself. This was getting ridiculous. As intoxicating as the idea of being pregnant with Trevor was, she realized this was a completely unrealistic, frightening fantasy. If it were to happen, her life would change forever, most likely in a un formidable way. Suddenly, Sarah became fearful, as if a light had switched on in her mind, making her realize the insanity of her situation. And just as she was about to get up, call the company Trevor worked for, and cancel their services, a voice softly whispered in her ear.

"I have not stopped thinking about you," he said, so softly, so innocently, that she felt her heart melt.

She felt his arms wrap around her, as he kissed her neck, and a hard wind blew across the yard.

"Looks like a good day to spend in bed with a beautiful woman," he said, tightening his arms around her.

"I didn't know you were here," Sarah said, smiling, forgetting everything she had thought about earlier. "You're early."

"I couldn't wait to see you," he said, "I came over as soon as I could. How are you?" He asked, as he sat in the chair across from her.

"I'm good," Sarah said, taking off her sunglasses. She found it difficult to speak, to breathe even, and felt like a young, shy girl, unable to organize her thoughts. 

"You should be inside. There is a storm coming."

"Really? I thought it was supposed to be nice today."

"It's supposed to clear up this afternoon." Trevor said smiling. "Thunderstorm this morning."

Sarah smiled, wondering where Trevor's "friend" was. 

"Do you want to go inside?" Sarah asked. Trevor smiled. "Yes, I do. I just have to go to my truck first." 

Feeling impulsive, Sarah leaned forward, took Trevor's hand and pulled him close so she could whisper in his ear. 

"I hope you brought your friend," she whispered.

Trevor kissed Sarah's neck, and then smiled. "Go up stair's. I'll be right there. Make sure it's dark."

Sarah stood, and went into the house.

In her room, she pulled the drapes across the window, and turned off the light. She closed her bedroom door then lay on the bed.

She heard the front door open then close, and listened to see if she could distinguish whom, or how many people, had come into the house. She heard footsteps walk down the hall toward her room, then stop at the door. 

"Sarah?" She heard Trevor say. "Keep your eyes closed."

Trevor opened the door and stood next to the bed. 

"Sit up."

As Sarah sat up, she felt Trevor's weight on the bed behind her.

Soft silk wrapped around her eyes.

"Now, lay back so I can tie you to your bed."

Sarah lay back on the bed and noticed she had become incredibly wet. She breathed deep, as Trevor knotted her left wrist to the wood bedpost.

"I've never done anything like this before," she said, her voice slightly quivering.

"I've never done this before either."

Before tying her other wrist, Trevor lifted Sarah's legs apart so he could sit between them. He lifted Sarah's dress and pulled off her panties. He kissed her hip, and she could feel his finger softly run up and down her wetness. Then his tongue. She could hear him softly moan as he gently, slowly, ran his tongue across her smooth, soft, clit. He got up and tied her other arm to the bed.

For a moment, there was silence.

Again, she felt the tickle of his fingers across her body. Along her arms, her thighs, across her nipples. "I must confess," Trevor said into her ear. "All I've been fantasizing about is making you pregnant."

Hearing him say this almost paralyzed Sarah. Her eyes went wide beneath the blindfold. She could not believe he had just said it. It was as if he had read her mind. Helpless, tied to the bed, completely at his mercy, she accepted the emotion's that washed over her, freeing herself to accept whatever might happen. Her body ached to take him inside. And if he did not move soon to satisfy her hunger, she was certain she would die.

Sarah heard the door open. And someone, maybe two people, walked into the room. No one spoke. She heard buttons snap open and clothing drop to the floor. Sarah's mind raced. Who was it? 

"Sarah? I don't want you to be afraid. I assure you there is nothing to fear."

"Ok. She said. Her throat dry, her voice trembling.

Then she felt the softest tongue touch between her legs, and a girl's voice say "oh my god. You are so wet."

Sarah bit her lip, and then felt large, firm, breast's brush across her thighs and soft fingers on her hips.

"Her name is Vanessa," She heard Trevor say.




Desire



"She has long dark hair and an incredible body. You'd love her tits. I'm going to fuck her from behind while she goes down on you."

Sarah could feel Vanessa's body start to move, in a slow rhythmic manner. She could tell Trevor was taking Vanessa. She could feel her deep breath's between her legs as Trevor moved into her.

And then she felt a hand on her face, tracing a line along her jaw.

"I'd love to watch you suck him off Sarah. Would you do that for me?"

Insane from the eroticism taking place in her bed, Sarah nodded yes to Trevor's request. She needed something, someone inside her, and at this point, she did not care who, or what. 

"He's really cute," Vanessa said. "I'm going to have sex with him next."

Sarah smiled, and then moistened her lips. She lifted her head off the pillow ready to take Dave into her mouth. Dave placed his cock on her lips, and hungrily, she took as much of him into her mouth as she could. He was so big, and thick and hard. She rolled her tongue around him and let him thrust into her mouth. 

"Oh God." Vanessa gasped, as she neared orgasm. "Oh fuck." She was nibbling, almost biting Sarah's clit as Trevor pounded harder and faster.

Sarah could hear the slap of Trevor's hand on Vanessa's ass, as Dave fucked her mouth. He was also nearing orgasm.

"Cum on my tit's," Sarah blurted, realizing Dave was reaching climax. Dave pulled Sarah's tits out of her dress.

"I'm going to cum," a deep, young voice said. Then hot cum spurted across her tits, an endless stream, pulsating pools on her nipples and neck. Some shot onto her chin.

"That was amazing," Trevor said. "Can I fuck you now?"

"Yes Trevor. Yes." Her body squirming, she was almost crying.

Trevor rolled Vanessa onto the bed beside Sarah, out of his way. He lay on top of her and she wrapped her legs around him, trying desperately to pull him in. 

"Untie me." Sarah begged. She wanted to feel Trevor with her hands.

Vanessa lay on the bed beside Trevor and Sarah and masturbated, watching Trevor and Sarah kiss, and touch, and devour each other. Then Dave walked over to the bed and began licking Vanessa's pussy. So wet, and tasty and young. Unknown to Trevor and Sarah, they left the room and had sex in the hallway; she straddling him, pushed up against the wall. 

In her bed, Sarah's lover had his way with her. She came the moment he entered her. And he came soon after. As dangerous as it felt, with the intention of making her pregnant on both their minds, there was no stopping it. The house could have been burning around them, and even that would not have stopped their lovemaking. 

After, as Trevor lay on top of Sarah, inside of her, she not wanting them to ever separate, Sarah fought tears, as, in her mind, she secretly prayed to keep him inside her, to always have him inside her, to be pregnant with child, to have her body create them. It was a thought, a dream, and it possessed her mind as no other dream had. As Trevor stood and dressed, giving her a soft kiss on her lips, Sarah fell into an elated daze, relishing in the thought of Trevor growing inside her. She would leave her husband - leave her family if she had to. That was the feeling she had. Pure, desperate, and overwhelming. Then, as Trevor left with his friends, Sarah closed her eyes and began falling to sleep. And as thunder rolled in the sky outside, she dreamed of tornadoes and car crashes, and knew she would never see Trevor again.



Desire



The Birthday

We needed a warm trip just for us. It had been too long since we had one. We travel frequently, but not usually for ourselves and not usually to warm places. We tried Pearl the year before, but it was a bit too quiet the week we were there. This was our first time at Desire.

I am a finance professional. Dawn is an aspiring actress. We are somewhat open to adventures but also slightly reserved. I'm a bit of a shy personality although, Dawn is less so. We have been together nearly 25 years and are still very much in love. We support each other's goals and dreams and normally find ways to do what the other needs or wants. And we work at keeping the spark alive. It's not difficult for me since she has a body that most girls half her age would want.

Her boobs are not large but perfectly shaped. Her legs and butt are exactly what I think legs and butts should look like. It's difficult for me to decide what her best feature is. I like them all. And the best part is that she is comfortable showing off her body. Maybe it's the actress in her. Anyway, it works out well since I'm very comfortable looking at it. But I'll get back to the trip...

A couple of days after we arrived, Dawn was approached by Amanda, a nice looking and slightly younger woman with an unusual request. She wanted to give Drew, her husband, a unique birthday present. Amanda asked if she could flirt with me and eventually pick me up in the disco that night. She would then take me back to her room and do me while her husband watched from their patio. Dawn could either watch from the patio or wait for us at the disco. It would be fulfilling one of Drew's longtime dreams of watching Amanda with someone else.

Dawn thought it would be fun for me to do. I would normally be too nervous to have someone watch but the idea of performing for Dawn was appealing. I thought it would be great to show off for her, just like Amanda would be doing for Drew. So I agreed as long as Dawn would watch from the patio as well. Drew told us she would be safe since he only wanted to watch Amanda.

Dawn told Drew that his approach to the planned show was comforting. Dawn and I had tried swinging several years before but she didn't enjoy it very much. Still, I had the same longtime dream as Drew, of watching my wife doing another man or even two, so I understood very well what Amanda wanted to accomplish.

We had become casually acquainted with Amanda and Drew for the past couple of days but hadn't spent much time with them. They were a decent looking couple and they both seemed nice and respectful. Amanda was a petite girl with nice breasts slightly larger than Dawn's and a slightly larger butt as well. Her firm body suggested frequent exercise (we found out later that she was a yoga instructor). Her short blonde hair with a blue streak gave her a much younger look than her age. Drew was built much like me with blondish hair and blue eyes. Both had laid back personalities.

We didn't see them the rest of the day. I was to meet Drew before dinner to get some instructions on how Amanda liked to be touched and kissed as well as what kind of action he wanted to see. When we actually met, he gave me only some general guidelines and told me that he and Amanda had made all the specific plans for the evening. She would be in charge. That made it easier on me so I was happy to play along.

Dawn and I dressed for dinner. I put on the not-so-imaginative black dress pants and button up shirt with black loafers. Dawn was, however, more spectacular in her outfit. It was a designer top made of crochet material, which is basically knots held together by leather straps across the back to make a halter top, the kind a goth girl might wear. She wore a pair of sheer black and white stripped leggings and a pair Italian boots that came up to her knees. She was a knockout in that outfit. The top was cut low enough to show the tops of her perfect boobs. It also allows me the occasional grope.

At dinner Drew and Amanda walked by our table, offering only a casual hello. The play had begun. Dawn and I kept mostly to ourselves as we finished dinner and made our way to the disco. We found seats near the bar and had our drinks along with a couple of dances. The view down Dawn's top was setting the mood, for me at least, as I got in a couple of quick kisses on her nipples.

Amanda came up beside me and we made small talk while she ordered some drinks. The bar was a little crowded so she stood so close to me that her breasts were rubbing my arm every time she moved. Before long, she asked me to dance while Drew stayed next to Dawn. Amanda wore a small bathing suit top under a barely buttoned thin white dress shirt with short shorts and high heels. Drew was dressed much like me in our relaxed versions of business casual.

While Amanda and I danced a fast tune, she whispered to me that she thought her bathing suit top might be untied and asked me to have a feel to see if it was still covering her boobs. It was covering them but just hanging there. She didn't bother retying it. We rejoined Dawn and Drew for another drink until Amanda pulled me out for a slow dance. During the dance she pulled the bathing suit top over her head, leaving only the thin white shirt which was now unbuttoned. As she tucked her top into my pocket, she quickly unbuttoned my shirt and began rubbing her boobs on my chest. I suspect Dawn had told her that was one of my favorite attention getting moves. Since we were dancing closely, I thought nobody could see.

After that dance she asked if the two of us could go someplace quieter for a few minutes. I told Dawn that Amanda needed my help with something and we would be back before too long, if she didn't mind. She said Drew would keep her company while we were gone and to take our time. Amanda grabbed my hand and said to hurry before anyone got suspicious. She asked me to stop by my room and leave my shirt and shoes while she gets a couple of drinks from the outside bar. I caught up to her at the bar in just my dress pants. As she handed me the drink she said that if I would kiss her, she would take her shirt off and walk to her room topless (more advice from Dawn I think). I gave her a nice long slow kiss that she seemed to enjoy. I took the shirt from her shoulders as I gently kissed each breast.

I told Amanda we should go before someone calls security on us. I carried the drinks and her shirt as I followed her to her room. Along the way I would stop to kiss her on the neck so Dawn and Drew would have time to get into place. But it was taking them longer than it should. They must have stopped for drinks when they saw us stopping.

As we entered her room I noticed the towels draped over the lamps to produce a sexy atmosphere while still having the right amount of light for our audience. They must have spent some time arranging just the right atmosphere. With that lighting we couldn't see outside so it was like we were alone. Finally, we heard the patio furniture moving around so we knew Drew and Dawn were ready.

Amanda pushed me down onto the bed and straddled me. She pushed my arms over my head as she moved her body and mouth all over me. She kept her shorts and shoes on as she pulled my pants and underwear off. Amanda stood me up and started blowing me, but took breaks to tell me how much she was enjoying my body. I made her keep her shoes on as I took her shorts off and went down on her. I had only been eating her for a few minutes before she exploded in a very vocal orgasm.

I was sure she was exaggerating for Drew's benefit but the soundtrack added to the fun. It also gave me an idea for later. I laid down on my back with my head toward the patio to give the audience a good view of Amanda sucking me. She sat up and guided my dick into her almost in slow motion while looking toward the door. As she rode me she kept telling me how good it felt and how horny she was. I made sure she sat up cowgirl style to give Drew the wonderful view of her breasts bouncing as she rode me. It's always my favorite view of Dawn. I then turned us away from the door to give our admirers the back view.

As part of the program, we then moved to the missionary position both toward the door and away from the door for effect. I told her to fuck me like she would normally fuck Drew in that position, both with and without her shoes on. That way, Drew could see the full range of her talents. The plan was to finish doggy style. But I thought we should have more of a grand finale.

I stood Amanda up, and told her to put on the shoes and model for me. I saw a pair of jeweled handcuffs on the dresser. I told her to put her hands behind her back and put the cuffs on her. After making her model some more, I moved her face down onto the bed with her knees on the floor. She was then to tell me what she wanted. "Please fuck me doggy style," was the answer. 

"OK," I said. "But first..." I switched off the lights and opened the sliding door to the patio. That left only the screen door between the two of us and Dawn and Drew on the patio. I whispered to her that she should make Drew only hear what was happening. I wanted to engage his imagination as an added treat.

I entered Amanda from behind and alternately held her butt and her hands. Within a short time our eyes adjusted to the darkness. We still could not see out, but I was certain Drew and Dawn could make out what was going on in the room.

With the screen door open, Amanda continued her noisy reactions to the pumping. And there was more noise from the patio as well. I guessed they were moving around to get good views. It was then I came with a loud moan. It felt like I was cumming for 10 minutes.

In a couple of minutes I turned the lights on and freed Amanda from the cuffs. We looked toward the door and said we hoped they enjoyed the show as much as we enjoyed giving it to them. I gathered my clothes. It was time to go meet Dawn. Besides, Drew probably had some catching up to do.

Amanda told me as I was leaving that all those comments she made were true. She had not been acting, just being a little less reserved for Drew's benefit.

"I'll bet it's the best birthday present he's had in a long time," I said loud enough for Drew to hear.

"Best birthday ever!" is what we heard from the patio.

Time for the Reviews

I headed back to the outside bar to meet Dawn. I was there with a seat and drinks before she arrived. Immediately I noticed that she had changed clothes. She was wearing the dress she just go t in London and it was looking a bit wrinkled.

I asked how she liked the show and how I was as a showoff. She said the show was amazing and much hotter than she thought it was going to be. It stirred them both up. And I could have a promising future as an actor. Then she asked if we heard Drew and her. I said we heard the furniture moving around.

She put her arms around my neck and sat on my lap facing me.

"Guess what I did," she said as she kissed me.

"You changed clothes?"

"Well, yes but technically, I did something," she answered.

The obvious questions are about how you technically do something, and of course, what it was.

She explained, "It was so hot watching you two dance and flirt that I decided to become a character in the play. I put on the London dress and became Chantal, who works as an expensive escort. And Chantal can be a bit naughty at times.

Chantal got so horny watching you two that she attacked Drew. He tried to resist but he was as worked up as Chantal from what we were watching. As Chantal, I kissed him and started rubbing his dick. I took the top of my dress down and put his hands on my boobs.

He kissed them for a long time. I had to take his shirt off and rub them on him before he understood that he was getting fucked. I gave him a blow job while he was watching Amanda with you. He came in just a couple of minutes but then went down on me. He really enjoyed eating me while hearing Amanda and you go at it.

He got hard again quickly from all the action. I turned the furniture around so I could straddle him while we watched you two. It was incredibly sensual because I could watch you from a distance and feel the physical pleasure at the same time.

I'm sure I, uh Chantal that is, came many times. And when you handcuffed Amanda, Drew pinned my hands above my head on the recliner. He slipped his dick into me while we stayed as still as we could, listening to you two since we couldn't see.

Once our eyes adjusted he rolled me over and fucked me doggy style while you two were doing it doggy style. We thought you could surely hear us.

We both came again just as you two were tidying up. And I knew I had to rush over to meet you."

I asked, "He came in your mouth?"

"Yes, his first orgasm." Dawn said, "Chantal likes that."

"Chantal sounds fun."

I added, "It sounds hot. I hate I missed it. I think it's only fair then, that I get to watch you, or at least Chantal, tomorrow night."

Dawn said, "We'll see about that."

The Next Day

Drew and Amanda found us on the beach the next day and thanked us for a great experience. They wanted to return the favor by inviting us to a party they were having that night with two other couples. Their friends had a Jacuzzi suite with a large hot tub on the patio. Although nothing formal, this small group of friends had this get together during their vacation every year. We agreed to meet the group after dinner that night.

Dawn told us that she would be attending the party instead of Chantal. And we shouldn't expect her to be nearly as aggressive as Chantal. Drew replied that we were to be the guests of honor as their way of thanking us for his birthday gift. Nothing would be required but to just relax and enjoy the night.

Dressing for the evening, Dawn put on a white button up shirt with sheer strips in the fabric and a short skirt, fishnet stockings, and high heels with an ankle strap. I bought the shoes for her to celebrate what is probably an imaginary holiday, St. Bruce's Day. I read something somewhere about St. Bruce being the patron saint of threesomes. Since she really liked the shoes, I made up the occasion to get them for her.

She wore no bra, which even after 25 years together, is still a treat for me. Dawn always looks amazing in outfits like that.

Drew met us at the door as we arrived for the party. He welcomed us to the group as he introduced us to the other couples, Jack and Cathlene, along with Franco and Lucia. Jack and Cathlene were Canadian. He was slightly taller and thinner than me with green eyes and short brown conservative looking hair. She was about Dawn's size with darker skin and dark mid length hair. Franco and Lucia were Italian, both younger, with slightly dark skin and hair. Lucia had what I would call an average body and Franco was a bit smaller than average.

Drew told us that we should feel free to flirt all we like, he showed us around the suite. Amanda said we might want to enjoy the hot tub until the festivities started.

The festivities, she explained, began with a game of strip poker. The game would only last for five hands. In addition to the normal clothing removal, the winner of the hand would roll two dice, one with actions, and the other with body parts for those actions. The winner would receive the designated activity from the loser. The person winning the most after five hands would then receive whatever they liked from the member of their choosing. Drew would be the dealer for the night "so the game would be fair," he said.

The members of the group are not normally hard core swingers so the activities would go no further than anyone wanted. They had been told however, of Drew's birthday present last night and were impressed. They were also disappointed none of them were having birthdays.

The Game

Dawn and I do not play a lot of poker but she won the first hand, with Cathlene being the loser. Rolling the dice produced a "blow above the waist" command. The others removed their shirts and tops. Cathlene walked over to Dawn and began blowing softly around her neck and ears, working her way around to her lips, then down toward her waist as she unbuttoned the front of Dawn's shirt. This allowed the group a quick look at Dawn's boobs, which were responding nicely. They were of course, incredible looking. Cathlene buttoned the top and returned to her seat.

Hand number two Dawn won again. How unusual. Franco was the loser. The dice commanded him to "kiss lips." He walked around behind Dawn, leaned her back, and gave her a rather long French kiss. Dawn must have enjoyed it because her nipples were responding again.

Dawn won hand number three with Jack losing. Something is fishy. "Squeeze breasts" was the roll. Jack positioned himself behind Dawn, massaging her boobs as he kissed her neck and ears. He worked himself around to her front and gave her a proper kiss as he continued to feel her up.

Again, Dawn won hand number four, this time with only a jack. Everyone seemed to expect that. Apparently, they had all planned to lose the games. By now we were all down to our panties and briefs while Dawn was fully clothed. Lucia was the loser. How convenient. The dice commanded, "kiss breasts." Lucia walked over and unbuttoned Dawn's top and for 60 seconds kissed and sucked her boobs. They both seemed to enjoy it very much, judging from their breathing.

Hand number 5, we all knew Dawn would win. This must be what Drew meant by "guest of honor." Amanda was the loser. Rolling the dice resulted in a "kiss below the waist." By now rest of us were naked. Amanda lifted Dawn's skirt as she pulled down the stockings and panties. She pulled her to the edge of the seat, and positioned herself between Dawn's legs. After a kiss on the lips, she went down on Dawn enthusiastically for quite some time. Amanda knew what she was doing. She stopped before Dawn came but everyone was breathing heavily from the show.

The Prize

It was time for Dawn to decide her reward for "winning." She said besides her reward, there was a request from last night, which was a show for me. She asked if there would be any guys willing to help at some later time. All volunteered enthusiastically. She told them to, "Hold that thought."

Dawn came to me and kissed me passionately. She then whispered, "Isn't this fun?" I was sort of speechless but yes, it was fun. She continued around to Amanda rubbing all over her naked body while they whispered back and forth to each other. She was keeping us guessing as to who and what her reward would be.

She continued around the room rubbing all the bodies. As she came to Drew she planted a big kiss on him and announced, "Tonight, you get to do Dawn." She turned the lights down and asked someone to put on soft music. She said, as her tip to the dealer, her choice was for Drew to just do her normally in the way of his choosing. He shouldn't worry about the show, but just give her an enjoyable boink.

I took a seat on the couch where I was out of way but still had a great view. Amanda quickly paired up with Jack, and Franco with Lucia, as they got into the hot tub. Cathlene came to sit with me. Dawn told Drew that she didn't lose a hand so she was not undressing. If he wanted her clothes off then he would have to undress her. The two of them walked to the bed with him behind her kissing her neck.

Reaching the bed, Drew brought Dawn around in front of him where they started hugging and kissing. He took a seat with her standing. He rubbed her breasts as he unbuttoned her top, kissing all the way down as he removed it. He kept her there topless while he kissed all around her body. Drew continued undressing her slowly with her skirt, taking in the view of her, now that he could see what he was doing. He laid her down and removed her shoes and stockings. As he took off her panties he spread her legs and kneeled down, still taking in the entire view. He licked all the way up and down her pussy, slowly, quickly, firmly, and softly. It didn't take long before Dawn's first orgasm.




Desire



I think about her constantly. Lying naked in bed on her back, her slim tanned body on display. Her long straight jet black hair spread like a halo around her head. Her beautiful face -- oval with high cheek bones and a sharp nose, full pouty lips and dark sensual almond shaped eyes. Her arms over her head, wrists bound together to the head board with a silk scarf. Her firm 36B breasts flattened out, the quarter sized chocolate nipples hard and pointy with anticipation. Her slender 23 inch waist flaring out into perfectly proportioned 36 inch hips. Her long bronze legs spread slightly apart, and between the soft and creamy thighs, her beautiful pussy. Freshly shaved, the outer lips fat and pouty, the inner labia lips peeking out slightly, a darker hue of brown, already glistening with pussy juice. Her clitoris, a fat little pea tucked inside its hood, waiting to be coaxed out.

Her toes are painted a vivid red, and I kiss each one lightly before taking them into my mouth one by one, suckling them gently. I lick between each of her toes, across the top of her foot and all along her soles. Her inner ankles are sensitive and I can hear her give a little moan as I lick it. I kiss lightly across her smooth leg, along her calves, behind her knees. I plant kisses on her knees, one and then the other, gently biting the soft skin there. 

I kiss up her soft thigh and can smell the musky aroma of her pussy. I run my tongue across her upper thigh, along the side of her waist up to her breasts. I kiss and lick around the side, all around her erect nipple that is waiting to be licked and nibbled and sucked on. Her armpits are smooth and soft and I cannot resist giving them long wide licks. There is a light sheen of perspiration all over her body, and as I lick her armpits I can taste her light salty sweat. 

I run my tongue across her collarbone and nuzzle my face against her neck, inhaling her warm fragrant scent. I kiss down and run my tongues all around her nipples again. She bites her lower lip and gives a long sigh. I continue to kiss around it and she twists her torso desperately, trying to get her nipple into my mouth. I continue to tease her and she arches her back with a whimper. I finally move my tongue and give her pointy nipple a lick and coat it with my saliva. She moans as I blow on it, the cold air stiffening the nipple even more. I take her sensitive nipple in my mouth and start alternately sucking on it and giving short sharp bites. 

She is groaning now, her hands trying to break free of the silken bonds. Eyes closed, her nostrils flare as her groans get more guttural. I stop look at her on her back, her arms tied over her head, her perfect brown body and her silky black hair framed against the white sheets, her body shining with a sheen of perspiration, her legs spread revealing her pink slit against the brown of her pussy lips, her deep navel on her soft flat belly.

She whimpers and looks at me pleadingly with her beautiful dark doe eyes. I bend down, bring my nose close to her pussy and breathe in. The deep aroma is intoxicating and I can see her beautiful perfect pussy glistening in her pussy juice. I blow on her pussy, cold air on her moist lips. I lick her outer lips gently -- first one and then the other. They are soft and puffy, and I lick up and down on both sides as she pulls her knees back and parts her legs open even further. 

I can see her puckered anus, a brown rosebud. I lick down, along her perineum, and spreading her soft ass cheeks apart, I run my tongue across one side of her asshole, then the other. I flick my tongue across her anus and feel her twitch. I flick my tongue faster and stiffening my tongue, I press my tongue against her tight rosebud. I am rewarded with a shudder and as I press my tongue down harder, her sphincter muscles relax, and the tip of my tongue enters her anus. I push my tongue as far as it will go, and feel her muscles tighten around my tongue. Her moist pussy is dripping by now and I can feel the juices flowing down her sweet hole into my tongue and her asshole.

I pull my tongue out and lap up her pussy juice. I gently nibble her inner lip pulling it with my teeth and stretch it. The musky smell is heady! I put my lips against her pussy hole and give it a deep kiss. I tilt my head and stick my tongue inside her warm hole, lick inside her, lap her flowing juices, move my tongue in and out, French kissing her pussy. She wraps one gorgeous leg around my head and thrusts her hips forward, trying to grind her pussy on my face, all the while moaning long and deep. 

I pry her leg from my neck and push both her knees against her sides. Her sensitive clit peeks out from its hood, and I flick it with my tongue. A shudder passes through her. I flick it again and again. She starts to buck, her pussy leaking and the pussy juice dribbling over my lips and chin. I suck on that fat clit and run my tongue across the top of it fast, keeping a constant rhythm. 

She is thrashing now, breath heavy and ragged, her hips bucking and coating my face with her love juice. I hold her by her waist and bury my face into her pussy. I lick her clit as fast as I can as she gives out guttural moans, each longer and deeper than the last. Her whole body tenses up as she wraps both legs around my head. Arching her back, she writhes and struggles against her bonds, and with her pussy gushing the musky, heady juice, her head thrashing side to side, hips bucking wildly, she screams and shudders to a massive climax... 



Desire



My concentration shot directly into my panties, my damp cunt literally overflowing with juices. It was a wonder Mr. Gallagher didn't actually squirt on those erect nipples of mine. My tits bounced out of the white bra I wore with such fury, it looked like an attack on his penis.

He looked at my resumé, nodding.

"Come on," I thought to myself. "Look up at me. After what Josh told me, I have to find out. I have wanted your cock for so long."

Without looking at me, he leafed through the pictures I gave him, one by one. For every photo, he raised his eyebrows a bit higher and nodded more ferociously. Finally, when that seventh picture landed on his desk, his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Not once did he actually react to the horny slut that was sitting here and hoping to unzip his fly.

"Where did you say these pictures were taken?"

I tried to concentrate, my voice shaky and nervous.

"Uhmm, in L.A. A female photographer named Jessie Barnaby took them. A friend recommended me to contact her. Jessie finally consented to take the pictures after I showed her my portfolio from Wet Dream."

Mr. Gallagher uttered a surprised gasp.

"Our rival."

"Yes."

"Very good, indeed. You make love to the camera, Pamela. You will certainly raise a few cocks. If you don't mind me saying so."

I smiled. "No problem. No problem at all."

After contemplating my next sentence, I stuttered for a bit, grinning from ear to ear, thinking if I really should be sos bold to say what I was going to say.

"After all, that is what I am in this business to do."

He smiled, still looking at the photos.

"You are in this business to do what, Pamela?"

"I am in this business to raise a few cocks."

Come on, man, I thought, this just has to wake you up.

Still not looking up, his eyeballs focused on the nude pics of mine, he continued: "What surprised me was to that you called me at all, with you speaking to Josh and all."

I gave him an ambiguous smile.

"Well, Josh told me you were well endowed."

Now, for the first time, he looked up at me.

It was a look of awe. 

"I beg your pardon?"

"I am a glamour model for men's magazines, Mr. Gallagher," I said. "One that has never fucked before the lense. Off the lense, I fuck all the time. I mean, I have had so many men fuck me..."

I paused, laughing.

Mr. Gallagher chuckled. "What?"

"Well, I fuck around so much that my girlfriends all call me Rocket Pussy, the vehicle that needs male fuel."

Mr. Gallagher giggled, again. Now, his lips were beginning to dampen. They started to look like my pussy, red and wet. I knew now, that I desperately needed to suck that cock. 

I just had to give him a blowjob.

Especially since Josh told me that the guy was gay.

"What made you come here with this portfolio, Pamela?"

I shifted in my seat, looking right and left, searching for some corner to crawl into. I knew that I needed to say this, but I had no idea how. It was strange. A girl like me, taking off her clothes for thousands of men and now embarassed to her tits.

Then, I just decided to say it. No mercy.

I took a long look at him and smiled, now very much tongue-in-cheek.

"I wanna find out," I responded. "I came here to find out if your dick is as huge as they say it is. Josh told me you were gay. I couldn't believe that. If you are, I wanna convert you. I mean you can't be, being the editor of this magazine."

I paused, waiting.

"Can you?"

The editor of Great Gazongas sat back in his leather chair, putting his tongue firmly into his cheek, stroking his black chest hair with the finger wearing a golden ring.

"I met you at so many parties," I continued. "I went into so many back rooms and fucked so many guys. But actually, I only wanted you. Your..."

"My cock?" he filled in.

I nodded. "If you are that big, women just have to suck it. A cock like that is made to be sucked."

Mr. Gallagher grinned and sighed.

"Well, girls do like my cock."

"Really?"

"They do."

"And me? Can I? Please?"

"Be my guest."

"So, you are not gay?"

He smiled. "You can start sucking and find out if I react."

I looked at him like a kid that had just heard that Santa was for real. "What?" I cried. "You want me to fuck you?" 

I started clapping my hands, looking like a happy two year old toddler with her first copy of Winnie the Pooh on her lap. I couldn't wait to see that thing in the flesh.

The editor stood up, circled the table and waited.

"What are you waiting for? Open the gift. Unwrap the schlong."

"Josh Templeton said you were gay."

Paul Gallagher threw back his head and laughed.

"Josh is the editor of Wet Dream, baby. He is always telling people that kind of stuff."

"How did he know about your big cock, if he hadn't sucked on it?"

"Everybody knows my cock is big."

I looked at him with pleading puppy-dog eyes.

Paul Gallagher, again without a word, slowly took off his Armani suit jacket and dropped it on the floor.

"My long, fat dick is famous in this country. Every damn chick in this business has sucked it."

I looked at those pants with great interest. I felt like a schoolgirl, opening her birthday present and hoping her favourite toy was in there.

With trembling hands, my nail polished hands reached for the fly. The zipping sound made my heart go bump a couple of times. What was going to be in there? How big would this be?

I opened the buckle first, then the button, then I lowered his pants. Meanwhile, while I looked at the lump underneath those jocks, the editor took off his shirt, displaying that thick chest-hair. 

I nearly went crazy. Underneath those tight jocks something huge resided. I mean, it was huge. By now, the cocks on my repertoire had been red, brown, black, blue, white and even purple. I sucked small cocks and medium size ones. One cock had been so big that my pussy still hurt a month later. Those eight inches made my cunt sing and cry at the same time. This one? Would my vagina hurt as well? I hoped so.

"I am really curious," I grinned.

The editor pursed his lips. "Shut up and take it out."

What plopped out of those underpants outsized them all and it grew bigger and bigger as I watched it. Even watching it made it grow. The long thing bounced, its helmet greeting me with a friendly, funloving "Hello!". I felt like a tourist watching the Washington Monument for the first time. This thing had a life of its own. A snake on its way to the apple.

My pink mouth took that salty male prick into its mouth and began sucking it. It was like sucking on the biggest lollipop known to man. Captain Salty's delight. It was like travelling with the greyhound bus, knowing that the U.S. was not the limit. This bus would now travel globally. The thing that amazed me was that it grew bigger for every second. That penis tasted wonderful. How wonderful to suck a dick this big, I thought to myself. Size does matter. Guys, it does matter.

The editor grabbed my head and pushed his cock into my mouth, harder and harder. I could feel that dick grow in my mouth again, the helmet just simply turning into an apple in there. I groaned.

"How big are you, man?" I asked, mumbling as I sucked.

The Gallagher smiled. "13 inches long, 5 inches thick."

"Mr. Gallagher," I gasped, still mumbling, entusiastic. "You taste great. Gosh, you should take this taste and make it into a softdrink. Your cock beats pop-corn!"

"They all say that."

I took the cock out of my mouth with a witty plopping sound.

"Please, fuck me, now. I have just got to have you in me."

"Call me Paul, you horny slut."

"Paul," I spat back, feeling randy and bitchy. "Shut up and just stick it in."

With brute force, Paul lift me up by my tush, away from my seat, ripping my clothes to shreds, not that the clothes had covered much of me anyway. Completely naked, he lay me on his desk and shoved in his big stick into my aching vagina. I saw stars. It hurt very badly, it was enormous, but it was the most horny pain I had ever felt. He pounded his cock into my wet cunny so fast and with such vigour that I felt like a real whore. I loved feeling cheap, real cheap, like a hooker, a sex-object. Gosh, this guy really could fuck.

My 40DD tits bounced back and forth.

I moaned, pleading for his penis to thrust deeper.

"Let me prove to you that I am not gay."

My jugs bounced, doing the jive and the quickstep in his hands.

Now, he turned me around, picked me up, slapped me around and spread my legs, shoving me against the wall. I didn't know what to expect, but when that big penis slid into my asshole it was the most luscious hurting sensation. Now, that stud really gave it to me. 

He fucked me, slapped me, rode me, called me really dirty names, massaged my funbags, grabbed me by my hair, sticking his fingers in my mouth and letting me taste my own cum.

"You are the randiest little tease I've met in a long time. What a horny little whore you are."

"Please, squirt into my mouth! Don't wait. Take your cock out of my ass and give me your sperm on my tongue."

I opened my mouth and pointed on it.

"In here."

He withdrew his cock from my ass, turned me around, pushed me down on the floor and threw my head back. I opened my mouth wide, sticking out my tongue, the Rocket Pussy pleading for her white fuel. Paul wanked his cock faster and faster, in fact, so fast that I couldn't see his hands anymore. They were all in a blur. Paul threw back his head, like some fucking porn star, laughing and closing his eyes, making a mean grimace, twisting his face into a snarl. 

Then the juice came shooting out of his cock. Tons of it, glasses of it, a whole bottle full. My tits were covered with cum, my mouth was full. I was covered from head to toe in sperm.

"Do I have the job?"

"As long as you keep sucking my cock, yes."

"Then, I will suck you again."

"Keep sucking my dick and you will keep getting jobs."

"And if I stop?"

"There are other girls willing to suck my dick!"

We ended up laughing and fucking our heads off. This time, I swallowed every drop of his cum. The office soon smelled of sex, sperm, female juices and hot pussy.

"So, what's the verdict," Paul asked me.

"Gay or straight?" I responded.

He shrugged.

"That cock is straight. Definately."

He looked at his own cock. "It's pointing toward the ceiling, baby. Wanna suck it again?"

I looked at it. "You are right. I have to work on that one. It needs more size."

"What are you going for? The Washington Monument?"

"Yes."

And so I began sucking it a third time that day.

While I titty-fucked his prick, I said:

"Wanna invite Josh for a gang-bang?"

"But he is gay, is he not?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"You wanna find out?" he asked as I sucked on his balls.

I nodded.

"Okay."

I stood up, put on my clothes and smiled.

"I will call you in an hour and tell you if he is gay." 

After all, Paul knew that I also wanted to find out if Josh's cock also was as long as people were saying. If it was, his cock was also worth being converted. I have always loved sucking on two big cocks at once. 

If I play my cards right, both Wet Dream and Great Gazongas will soon belong to me.

I am stuck in elevator reading this into my dick-ta-phone, hoping that the repairman will fuck me on my way to Josh.

After all, what is a poor horny slut like me gonna do without a cock for ten minutes?



Desire



Stop, stop, stop, stop. 

Damn my aroused hormones. Damn his overwhelming touches. Damn everything about August. The way he had my senses stripped, my body begging for a simple touch, my mouth starving for a taste of his tongue; I wasn't supposed to feel this way. 

The electric shocks that'll brew through me when his eyes connected with mines, the way his tongue slipped against his plump lips; I imagined nothing but sweet penetration with his tongue lapping against my most sensitive areas. The way his beefy cock must have felt between my aching lips, how it's delicious size pooled through me till I begged and shook in a earth-shattering orgasm. Damn you August. 

Why are you even here? You should be at home, pleasing the man that has devoted his entire life to you. 

But yet, my raging hormones wept for August and his gorgeous features. The black curls adding such sexiness to his rich-caramel tone. The delicious divots of muscles kissing his torso, tattoo's shining like exotic diamonds against his chiseled arms; he was a sight. At times, more delicious than my own baby. Sadness colored my cheeks as I realized my point as to being in Augusts' home, awaiting the arousing torture to unravel between my legs. 

God, what if he finds out? 

I no longer starved for Chris' bright cock, for a fatter engorgement stepped into view, making me weak to the knees. Chris' thrusts and sensuality was always lovely, especially when his lean fingers held such rawness behind a touch, pressing me against the bed till I couldn't move. Plump pastel lips devouring every inch of my body till I cried for a good ramming and he did just that, pounding me till my orgasm rained over us both. Then once morning whispered it's sweet greeting, my limbs ached and craved for a soothing relaxation in the Jacuzzi. 

August seemed better or maybe had the same drive as Chris. Both lean and muscular in their own way, looks blinding a woman's vision to have them tied up in their beds for their own sexual pleasure, gifted voices that purred sweet vibratos and falsettos. They were both blessed by the Gods, but August was my ultimate desire right now. Sadly, I couldn't care less for Chris and what he was doing at the moment. I cared for my flushed kitty and how thick August was. 

You should be ashamed of yourself. What the hell has Chris done to you? Nothing. 

"Come here", Augusts' rich Louisiana accent had my body shivering in desire. 

With hot limbs, I raised off the couch, slowly approaching him till his fingers grazed against my thighs, lips tasting his pink lower lip. A delighted smirk kissed his cheeks, eyes searching my wild ones. He wanted this just as bad as I did, and in a way, it was both wonderful yet shameful. He knew my relationship with Chris, knew it was great, knew I've been committed for two years, yet he's here about to strip me of my clothes. About to taste the sweet fragrance of Dark Kiss off my skin and I wasn't going to stop him. His fingers squeezed my thighs, head cocking to the right in amazement, leaning to press a gentle kiss against my pussy. 

Damn, damn, damn, damn. 

She whined in wonder on how his lips actually felt against her. I wondered the same as well. Reaching to unbutton my jeans, he stood to his feet, body towering over mines so that I had to tilt my head back. Both him and Chris' 6'0 ft and above height were bonus points to there beautiful features. As he pulled my zipper down, his right hand massaged my neck, leaning down to steal a sweet kiss from my anticipated lips. His tongue collided in a delicious tango with mines, fingers slowly pressing and massaging my neck till I purred against his tongue. He tasted of faint strawberries and nestle-chocolate. 

As he ended the kiss, his other hand snaked between my legs, dotting his way into my pants and against my soaked panties. My breath hitched, body awaiting for the powerful sensation to rumble through my pussy and onto his delicate fingers. Slowly and agonizingly, his fingers pressed against my clit, releasing a slight groan as he felt how wet I already was. 

"Damn baby", he breathed, leaning to steal another sweet kiss from me. 

I smirked against his plump lips, chest tightening as I felt his finger pull my panties to the side, gliding his nail against my soaked flower. The shivers purring through my pussy skimpered to my torso, flexing through my fingers and bubbling through my lips as a soft sigh. Circling the wetness around my hungry hole, he dipped a skinny finger into me, opening me with a curled finger. Slowly, he nibbled on my lower lip, trailing sweet kisses down my collar-bone till he reached the gap between my breasts, nuzzling his head and dotting kisses against me. 

As he sucked my nipple, circling wet triangles and circles around them, he added another skinny finger to the pleasing assault, knees bulking in surprise as he'll softly scrape against my g-spot. He knew what he was doing to me. He wanted my orgasm to rumble so deep that I'll collasp, begging for a breath before he slipped his thick length into me. 

Chris never drove me this crazy when we had sex. These gifted fingers.. good God. 

"You're so wet", he breathed against my skin, moving lower till he reached below my navel. 

He placed a sweet kiss there, eyes pooling to search mines. They began to leak in ultimate pleasure and desire. This was all too much. The torturous kisses, agonizing pumps of his finger against that spot, his stares and that damn accent. Once he reached my pussy, he used his free hand to pull down my jeans, gently ordering me to step out of them. Slipping his fingers out of me, I moaned in sorrow, pussy already feeling barren. Using both hands to slip my panties off, he chuckled darkly, softly nudging me against the love seat. Pushing my legs back, he sat them on his broad shoulders, softly blowing against my clit while dipping two fingers into me again. 

"God", I breathed, fingers pulling at the smooth cushion. 

"So wet, so tight", he softly chanted, continuing to blow against my clit. Damnit. 

As my moans arched higher and louder, he increased his pumps, cooling his blows by trapping my clit with his tongue. Arching my back, I massaged the back of his neck, pushing him deeper until my wetness painted his face. The deeper his tongue circled against his pumps, the more he was driving me over the edge. 

"Yes, that's it", I sighed, whining my hips against his face. 

With one last whine, I was over the bridge, cumming harshly against his plump lips. Relaxing in the cushion, I huffed out a couple more sighs and moans till my withering cooled. August slipped his fingers from inside me, tracing my lips with my orgasm. Slipping out his pants, he massaged my quivering thighs, preparing me for a bigger length; something that'll have me trembling and moaning worse than his fingers. As he kicked his boxers to the side, he cupped my ass, pressing my body against his while slipping his cock into me. I wrapped my legs around his toned and flexed sides, moaning loudly at his tremendous length. 

Switching places, he was now on his back while I straddled him, teasingly riding his shaft while cupping my harden nipples. As I grinded my hips against him, he thrusted upward into me, groaning as he pooled deeper into my pot of treasure. 

So so so much bigger than Chris. 

"Fuck", I moaned, bending down to steal a kiss from his lips. He groaned against my skin. 

Deepening his movements, soon again, I felt myself jumping over the edge, orgasm brewing through me and coloring his fat cock. Shuddering against him, he rubbed my back, pressing me against him to pound in me till his orgasm came, pulling out of me and spurting elsewhere. As we collected our wild limbs, we engaged in a couple more sweet kisses, rubbing each other till we were ready to mingle for another orgasm.



Desire



The large door beside Rebecca's desk suddenly opened, startling her.

"Hello Mr. Davidson."

"Hi Rebecca. Could you phone up the florist for me please? Tell them I need a dozen roses sent to Miss Williams. Have the card read: I had a great time..."

"Last night. You're a beautiful woman and I hope we can get together soon. Love, Jack" Rebecca interrupted her boss, easily finishing his sentence. He laughed and offered her a heart-melting smile.

"Since you can handle the florists do you think you can order me some Chinese? I think I'll be working pretty late tonight." 

Rebecca reached for her phone.

"The duck right?"

He grinned again.

"Of course. You know me too well 'Becca"

Still grinning he sat behind his deck and turned on his computer. Rebecca worked at her desk until the delivery boy came then she began re-filing things at the filing cabinets. She could watch Mr. Davidson better from there. He was so handsome she could barely keep her eyes off of him. He was fairly young, 32 or so. He had light brown hair that occasionally feel across his forehead, making him look younger. His dark brown eyes and tan, muscular body was probably his most attractive features though. He looked somewhat like George Clooney, without the salt and pepper hair she thought. Rebecca had worked for Mr. Davidson for almost three years now. And for three years he seemed to be the only man she fantasized about. But she was drawn from her thoughts by the door to the office opening and a beautiful blonde woman walking in. Rebecca said hello and watched the woman go into Mr. Davidson's office. The woman lightly closed the door. But not all the way. Rebecca stood by the cabinets, not knowing what to do. She could see and hear everything. Mr. Davidson looked up and smiled.

"Hello Katie."

"Hi Jack."

The woman slowly crossed the room and stood between Mr. Davidson and his desk.

"I got your flowers. They were lovely. I had to come and thank you personally."

She slid up the desk. The short business skirt she wore moving up her legs. She slowly unbuttoned the blouse she wore, dropping it silently on the floor. Rebecca stood stunned outside the office door. She knew Mr. Davidson would be angry if he caught her but she was so shocked she couldn't move. She watched silently as her boss slowly removed first his tie, then his white button up shirt, his belt, socks, shoes, and finally his pants. Rebecca could clearly see his hard erection straining his boxers from the cracked door way. The woman moved from the desk to Mr. Davidson, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him. He quickly removed her bra, skirt and panties. After a long kiss she turned away from him, slightly bending over the desk. Rebecca could tell he was looking the woman over, examining her beautiful body. H

e slid off his boxers, lightly taking her hips and pressing his hard dick into her. He moved in long, slow strokes. As Rebecca continued to watch she got hotter. She slowly slid her hand into her panties. She was soaking wet. She lightly rubbed her clit as her boss and that beautiful woman fucked in front of her. She kept watching until they had finished. Hastily she straightened herself up and sat behind her desk, trying to look innocent. The woman left without looking at Rebecca and Mr. Davidson came out after her.

"Rebecca you can go home if you like, there's really nothing for you to do here."

Noticing something on her desk he leaned over. He picked up a card. He read it then looked up at her.

"'Becca, I'm so sorry I had no idea it was your birthday."

"It's alright Mr. Davidson. No problem."

"No, it is a problem. Here let me make it up to you."

He walked into his office and quickly returned. He handed her $350.

"Here take yourself and a friend out to dinner. You should try that new Italian place on Main. I hear it's good."

"No, Mr. Davidson I really couldn't. Besides I have no one to bring."

"Sure you do. Here take it."

After Rebecca reluctantly took the money Mr. Davidson went back in his office. He returned once again with his jacket.

"Com’on, let’s get out of this office. I’ll walk you to your car."

They walked to the elevator and rode it to the parking garage together. Rebecca led the way to her small car. After she unlocked it and opened the driver’s door she turned back to her boss. He kissed her softly on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Rebecca."

He turned and started towards his car before she had time to say anything. She climbed into her car and started the engine. She drove out of the garage and stopped at the red light. Her rumbling stomach convinced her to take Mr. Davidson’s advice so when the light turned green she headed home to clean up. She put on her low cut red dress, pinned up her long brown hair, put on a little make up, stuck the $350 in her purse and started for the restaurant. It was tucked between some taller buildings and looked very homey. She sat at a small table towards the door and waited for the waiter to come over. Much to her surprise soon after she ate Mr. Davidson walked into the restaurant and took a seat at the bar. She watched him talk to a few men and order a drink. He turned and looked at the customers sitting at the tables. Finally his gaze drifted her way. He motioned the bartender over and ordered another drink. The bartender poured some wine and brought it to Rebecca’s table.

"From the gentleman in the blue jacket miss."

Rebecca slowly sipped at the wine. Finally when the man beside Mr. Davidson left she walked up and put her hand on his arm.

"Hello"

"Hello Mr. Davidson."

First he looked confused. Then some recognition crossed his face.

"Rebecca?"

"Yes."

"Wow! I didn’t even recognize you. You look extraordinarily beautiful tonight."

"I do every night silly" 

He laughed.

"Come join me in the backroom, we can talk with more privacy there."

They made their way through the restaurant to the very back. Mr. Davidson parted some curtains, revealing a small room with a table and a big couch. They sat down and Mr. Davidson continued his compliments. A waiter came in and asked if they needed anything.

“No, we just wanted some privacy, thanks.”

The waiter gave a knowing wink at Mr. Davidson and left, drawing the heavy curtains tightly shut. Mr. Davidson turned towards Rebecca and they started a conversation. The longer they talked the closer they got. First his arm was on the back of the seat, and then around her shoulder, finally they were touching knee-to-knee, leg-to-leg. As they kept talking Mr. Davidson’s other hand moved onto her knee, then farther up to her thigh. Rebecca quickly glanced down at his hand. But not fast enough because he quickly removed it.

"I’m sorry Rebecca. Am I making you uncomfortable? I can’t seem to resist you tonight."

"It’s fine Mr. Davidson…Actually I was enjoying it."

He laughed and placed his hand back moving it farther up and slowly let his finger tips stroke her inner thigh. He leaned in and kissed her softly.

"I really can’t keep my eyes off of you, Rebecca."

She just grinned back at him and returned the kiss. Placing her hand softly at the side of his face. Drawing him closer. She felt his hand slide under her dress, running his fingers up and down her damp panties. She flickered her tongue lightly over his as he pushed aside the wet fabric, sliding his fingers over her pussy lips. She moaned softly in his mouth as he gently rubbed her swollen clit. His finger slowly slid into her pussy, making her wetter. She pushed him back and removed her panties, his hands quickly returned. As he continued rubbing her clit she softly nibbled at his neck until she reached his earlobe. She sucked softly before whispering to him.

"Lay down."

Mr. Davidson removed his jacket, and shirt. The soft lighting made his bare, muscled, tan torso look flawless. He took off his belt, pants, and boxers. This time Rebecca could fully see his erect dick. He was maybe eight inches and very wide across. He never took his eyes off her as he lay back against the couch. Rebecca slowly removed her dress and bra. Giving him a little strip tease. He got harder, precum already oozing from the head of his dick. Rebecca slowly straddled her boss, his strong hands holding her waist. She slowly slid his dick into her wet pussy. Taking her time and feeling every inch of him. Finally Rebecca had his dick completely buried in her pussy. She slowly moved her hips in long, slow thrusts, letting out quiet moans. His hands roamed up her body, finding her erect nipples and lightly pulling and pinching them. They continued their slow pace for a while but then Rebecca heard him moaning louder and breathing heavier. 

She quickly changed positions, her knees by his shoulders with her wet pussy above his face and her mouth above his hard dick. She licked from the base of his dick in long laps to the swollen head. She licked his entire dick clean of her juices before engulfing him in her mouth. Swirling her tongue around the head and sucking with slow bobs of her head. Meanwhile her boss was busy tonguing at her cunt. Sucking her little clit and lapping up her juices. Finally she came, spurring his own orgasm, filling Rebecca’s with his cum. The lay exhausted in each other’s arms on the couch for hours.

The next day Rebecca rode the elevator up to the office. Smiling as she remembered last night. She got off the elevator and unlocked the office door. She gasped at what she saw: six vases full of a dozen roses in a variety of colors. She pulled the card off of one vase.

"I had a great time last night. You’re a very beautiful woman and I hope we can get together again VERY soon. Love, Jack."



Desire



AN: Thanks for clicking on my story! This is my first original idea that I've had the confidence to post; I don't have a beta so if anyone likes this story and would like to, feel free to contact me on here. This takes place at a small fictional private college, set in Paris, France. So there will be the occasional French (with translation) thrown into the story. Jean Morrie is 19, Allie Jones is 18, and the twins are 19. Though she has my name, she bears no resemblance to the real me.

No sex or warnings in this chapter; this is simply to set up the story. 

For Jean Morrie, it was just another ordinary day at St. Catherine's Private College... until she walked in the door.

XXX

Although it wasn't unheard of, new students transferring part way through the year was incredibly rare. So, Allie Jones's mid-semester arrival at one of the most prestigious, private co-ed colleges in Paris caused a bit of a stir. All anybody was interested in discussing that day was the unusual new girl; she wasn't like anyone at the school. She was tall and thick, with long auburn curly lock and emerald green eyes. She had 4 visible tattoos and bars through each ear; at such a prestigious and proper college, she was obviously a rebel. Theories as to why she was transferring in the middle of the first semester rather than the start of the year were exchanged between various groups of friends and curiosity ignited in those who had yet to see this intriguing new girl in person.

The first time Jean heard mention of 'the new girl' was just after his first lesson of the day. He was swaggering through the halls with his best friend, Andre Loire, when an overexcited Angeline Loire came bounding over to them to share the news. 

"Have you heard?" Angeline asked, practically vibrating in place. "A new student just transferred. Somebody named Allie Jones."

"Fascinating," Andre drawled sarcastically at his twin sister, while Jean's lips twitched in amusement.

"Angeline," Jean said slinging an arm around the shorter girl's shoulders, "sweet, innocent, Angeline, the addition of a new student is hardly of interest to me. Not unless this new girl is hot of course........is she?"

"I haven't actually seen her," Angeline admitted, "but I heard from Sharmane that she was captain of her co-ed dance team in America. Maybe she'll join L'équipage (The Crew)," She mused thoughtfully.

"We'll have to see about that," Andre commented, "The Crew are a rare and treasured talent, we can't let just any old dancer in."

"Agreed," Jean nodded, "especially if they're unattractive and transferred from an American public school. No offence, Angeline, Andre" he added to the twins who had previously attended public school. "I just find the smell and attitude that lingers on ex-public schooler's to be sickening. You're the exception of course since you're sex on a heels and dance like sin."

Angeline just rolled her eyes, used to Jean's sexual comments as they began to head towards their Italian class.

As the other students filed in to take their seats, Jean could hear on-going conversations, all of them talking about 'Allie Jones', the new girl Angeline had mentioned. Not at all interested, Jean tuned them all out and focused his attention on his Italian textbook. After spending every summer holiday in Italy with his family since the age of three, Jean was fluent in the language and prided himself on being the best in the class. While Angeline always sounded confident when she spoke French, thereby giving the impression that she was talking fluently, Jean could always tell how many mistakes his friend was making even though others couldn't. As for Andre...........it was truly a miracle that he was passing. Although he was greatly enthusiastic (almost puppy like), languages were simply not a talent Andre had, unlike him and Angeline, who were quiet fluent. The rest of the students in the class were average at best, something Jean felt quite smug about. He didn't see a new face among the class so he assumed the new chick wouldn't be taking Italian, meaning that Jean's status as best Italian student was still safe.

The thought had just passed through Jean's mind when the door opened and the most breath taking woman Jean had ever laid his eyes on (and he had seen some amazing women in his life!) All eyes turned to the new arrival and Jean cocked his head to the side to check out the new girl, erotic ideas filling his mind as her large breasts went up and down with each breath(nuzzling in that amazing looking cleavage as she sat on his lap), long curls hanging over one shoulder(a mental flash of his hand grabbing a handful of it while she was on her knees in front of him), and calf high leather boots(rubbing against his shoulders as he fucked her into the mattress.)

"What do you think?" Andre asked in a whisper as he too passed judgment over the new student.

Finding no physical thing he could pick on, he went for something ambiguous. "She must be lost already," Jean continued as the pretty female teacher introduced Allie to the class, "I find it difficult to believe that a public school reject could have the ability to grasp something as complex as the Italian language."

Andre sniggered in response before they both focused their attention to the front of the room where Maestra Carrie had just asked Allie to read an English extract out loud and convert it into Italian so she could get an idea about the girl's capabilities.

"This should be an embarrassing train wreck," Jean snickered, with a smirk. However, that smirk slipped off his lips as soon as Allie opened her mouth. "What the........." Jean spluttered seething in rage as Allie stood up front, one hand resting on her cocked-out hip(and he couldn't stop the metal image of his hands gripping those round hips as he bent her over) as she confidently, and with a bored expression, read out the extract in fluent Italian.

"Magnificent," Maestra Carrie praised leading the class in applause, "look out Jean, I think you may finally have some competition for best Italian student."

Up front, Allie looked quite pleased and smug with herself, the other students looked awe-struck while Jean scowled and Andre struggled to stifle a laugh at the outraged look on his friend's face.

Allie was then instructed to take the empty seat beside Angeline (who immediately began chatting up the girl in English, the little traitor!) and Jean spent the remainder of the lesson glaring at the back of the new girl's head.



Desire



Genevieve couldn't believe she'd actually gone through with it. In her mind, she'd already called herself crazy at least a hundred times for even considering leaving the safety of her home to drive into the woods and see a woman she'd never met. But here she was, standing on Miss Theresa's doorstep, over 120 miles away from everyone she knew.

Her focus shifted from her own uncertainty to the body of the house. It was small and dark, even in the sunlight. The large, menacing trees around it cast a heavy shadow around the area. Genevieve thought that it was fitting considering the stories she'd been told of what took place here. When she was a little girl, she heard Miss Theresa referred to as a witch and "the Devil's bride." Her own grandmother told her that Miss Theresa had tried to steal the souls of two infants in the '50s. Even though she never paid much mind to what people said, now that she was here, she couldn't help but wonder how authentic the tales were.

Suddenly, there was a loud pop, the cry of old wood, followed by the abrupt opening of the door. An old woman's gaze met Genevieve's, and she froze. The woman's eyes were black, or at least appeared so. Her dark brown face bore wrinkles and scars, the signs of a long and difficult life.

"Whatchu want?" the woman asked in a low and cautious voice. Her eyes never left Genevieve's.

"I-I was looking for Miss Theresa," she stammered.

The woman's eyes narrowed. To Genevieve, it felt as if she was looking inside her, and all she wanted to do was to turn around and flee as far away from the doorstep as she could. Her legs refused to move though, and she was stranded.

"What you need from her?"

For the first time, Genevieve really focused on the reason why she came.

"I need to know if she can help me."

As soon as she spoke the words, three large crows took flight. Their black wings soared through the swaying arms of the trees around the house. The old woman frowned a bit, and then turned and slowly walked into the house.

"Come on," she said, and almost as if she was commanded to do so, Genevieve followed her inside.

* * *

Inside, the house was lit only by candles. The scent of jasmine permeated through the air, and Genevieve was surprised by the appearance. She imagined there being skulls, chicken bones, and other clichés she'd seen in horror movies. Instead, she was greeted by a house that was both clean and bare.

Miss Theresa slowly made her way to a round table and sat. Genevieve quickly followed, sitting across from her. She still didn't know what to make of it all, but she'd already allowed herself to come this far.

"What you need help with, child?" Miss Theresa asked. Her black eyes once again studied Genevieve's.

"I've heard things about what goes on here. I've heard stories and I need to know if they're true."

Miss Theresa moved her seat closer to the table.

"What kinds of stories?"

"I've heard about witchcraft... and soul possession."

Miss Theresa leaned back in her seat, but kept her gaze on Genevieve. The candles around the room all seemed to flicker in unison, and Genevieve felt a pang inside her chest.

The room was quiet for many seconds as the two women eyed one another. The frown had returned to Miss Theresa's aged face.

"You think what you heard's true, child?" Miss Theresa finally spoke, breaking the silence.

"I really don't know what to think, honestly. I'm not even really sure why I'm here. Right now, I hope they are. I-I lost someone a year ago."

"A lover," the older woman flatly stated. Genevieve nodded in affirmation.

"Are you Miss Theresa?" she asked.

"I am. Give me your hands."

Genevieve laid her hands down on the face of the mahogany table. She watched the light of the candles dance atop them. Miss Theresa slid her palms over the backs of the young woman's hands and closed her eyes.

Genevieve could feel the hairs on her arms grow erect and a warmth spread through her body like a wildfire. Her heart began to beat harder in her chest, and she felt as though she was out of breath. The entire house grew pitch black aside from the dancing heads of the candles, and Genevieve started to panic.

Suddenly, Miss Theresa withdrew her hands, and Genevieve heard a sigh that did not come from the woman. Gradually, the light began to fill the room, and the warmth started to subside. She found herself panting at the table as the old woman's dark eyes looked out the window.

"You should go now. It'll be dark before long, and you don't wanna get lost 'round these parts," Miss Theresa spoke in a casual voice.

"I didn't even tell you what I wanted," Genevieve said, still panting.

"I know what you want, child. Now go. Our business is finished here."

An anger she'd never known before flooded into Genevieve, and she quickly stood and made her way out of the old woman's door. She didn't know what had just happened to her. For all she knew, the witch could've just stolen her soul. Genevieve wanted to slap herself in the face for believing that some recluse in the woods could've been able to give her the help that she needed.

As she got back into her car and started to drive off, tears began to fall from her eyes. She felt like a fool, and she questioned her sanity for allowing herself to embark on such an adventure.

Genevieve looked back at the woman's dark house and saw Miss Theresa standing on the porch. Yellow and orange leaves were blowing around her, prisoners caught in the wind.

* * *

As Genevieve drove back into the city and close to her house, she noticed children dressed in an array of costumes roaming the streets. She'd been so preoccupied with her pursuit that she'd completely forgotten that it was Halloween. The irony was not lost on her, and she allowed herself to laugh a bit. Who would've believed that she'd gone to visit a real life witch on Halloween?

Finally, she pulled into her driveway, settled in, and turned on the porch light for the trick-or-treaters. She gathered what little candy she had into a bowl and waited for the doorbell to ring.

* * *

By 11, the trick-or-treaters had come and gone. It brought a smile to Genevieve's face to see all of the small children enjoying what had to have been their first or second Halloween. She noticed a number of children dressed as ghosts though, and she wondered why the costume had become so popular all of a sudden.

After turning off the lights downstairs, Genevieve bathed and prepared for bed. She usually slept with her bedroom windows slightly open. The sounds of the night made for a soothing lullaby. She always slept nude, and enjoyed the feel of the cool air on her skin.

As she lay in her bed, her mind drifted back to Miss Theresa, and she found herself angry at the old woman again. She'd driven so far just to have her hands caressed by a witch, and she was furious. She could not explain what Miss Theresa had done when she touched her, but she knew did not like it

What also bothered Genevieve was that the old woman would not even let her tell her story. In her mind, she'd anticipated telling the witch of how her husband Dante had passed away, leaving her alone for over a year. She wanted to tell the woman of how she never had the chance to say goodbye, and that all she desired was the chance to feel his touch or hear his voice again, one last time.

Genevieve closed her eyes, and within a matter of minutes, she was asleep. The day's activities had finally caught up with her and taken her under. Before she completely slipped away though, she could hear the wind outside the window making her wind chimes sing.

* * *

Genevieve moaned so hard in her sleep that she stirred herself awake. In the darkness, she felt something lightly touching her skin. It was as if the stars in the night were breathing down upon her.

Her heart was drumming a quick rhythm and she was wet -- very wet. The muscles in her stomach were dancing, contracting and relaxing. She could feel her moisture running out of her pussy and spreading over her golden buttocks and down onto the bed sheets.

Starlight allowed her to see the bed, and she did not see another body with her. She began to worry. She was not sure what it was, but she could feel something opening her lips and pushing inside of her, fucking her. Genevieve closed her eyes and another hard moan escaped her mouth. Whatever was happening to her, it felt tremendous, and she did not want it to stop. It had been over a year since she'd experienced a feeling such as this.

Something that felt like a mouth enveloped her clitoris, and the sensation spread throughout her entire body. Her back arched and she reached out at her invisible lover, but felt nothing but air. Genevieve's purple nipples, the color of wine, stood erect like minarets. She glanced down past the wetness that matted her pubic hair, down at the unseen source giving her pleasure, and wondered what was happening to her. Had she finally lost her mind?

She felt something stiffer, thicker, delve inside her, and it evoked a low "oh" from her. Genevieve could not believe that she was being fucked by no one, by her own imagination. She also could not believe how much she loved the feeling. It was as if her body was coming back to life and reconnecting with the intimacy that had been lost since her husband passed.

Genevieve's face began to contort, and she knew that she was on her way towards an orgasm. The feeling inside her reached deeper. It filled her, possessed her, and she submitted to its presence. She could feel her vaginal muscles tugging against her lover, not wanting to miss a second of its touch.

She clenched her teeth, her face a tight knot, and held on. Genevieve knew she was cumming, and her body seized, the breath frozen inside her. As she made her way to ecstasy, she finally broke and couldn't hold out any longer. She cried out into the darkness and her body began to buck. The sweat on her body rapidly began to cool after she descended from her bliss.

As she lay there, exhausted, satisfied, she felt the impression of what felt like lips upon her neck. She turned her head slightly, and then felt it. Whatever had made love to her was kissing her, and Genevieve recognized the technique of the tongue and the taste.

"Dante!" she exclaimed as she broke away and shot up.

A thick gust of wind emerged through her window and scooped her up, wrapping itself around her, hugging her tightly. She felt his mouth upon hers again, and it was a deep, passionate kiss -- one of unconditional love.

The wind held onto Genevieve's nude body for several minutes before it finally unraveled, slowly letting her spill back onto the soft sheets.

"I love you," she heard whispered in the room, and then the wind disappeared, escaping back out of the window.

Genevieve protested, leaping out of the bed and racing to the window. She knew there was nothing that she could say to bring him back to her though, and a bittersweet feeling settled into her stomach. For the second time in under twenty-four hours, tears began to plummet down her cheeks. As she stood there though, the light from the stars caressing her nudity, she was no longer angry at the witch, but thankful. She realized that Miss Theresa had opened her up to read her desire, and had ultimately given her both what she wanted and needed; the older woman had given her closure.

Genevieve stared out into the night, listening to that now somber sound of the wind chimes. Her wetness had grown dry on her thighs. Eventually, the song of the wind chimes gave way to silence, and as she stood gazing out at what was left of the Halloween night, she whispered, I love you back at the roaming breeze.



Desire



I would say that I imagine you, but I don't. It's more like a memory that hasn't happened yet - your scent and the feel of your skin is so real in my mind. Standing next to you, almost but not quite touching. It's somewhere public, but it could be almost anywhere - it's night and there are people around. With your back to me you can sense my presence, feel my desire for you sparking across the almost imperceptible gap between us.

You felt it from the moment our eyes met - that I want to devour you. The way your body stiffened slightly, the way your breathing came slightly faster, more shallow. I love that - sensing the effect my desire has on you. Without seeing I know your nipples are swelling under the fabric of your bra, your pussy is beginning to feel warm and empty. I touch your arm discreetly, sliding my hand down to your wrist where I feel your fingers reaching back to brush mine. 

I lean forward just slightly and feel you lean back, pressing the back of your thigh against me to feel my hardness, as my hand slides over your hip to increase that pressure. I love the way you arouse me - the way you want me...the way you love making me hard.

You turn slightly, so that the angle of our embrace brings your hand directly over the front of my pants, with your body hiding your eager caresses. Your fingers slide along the length of my hard shaft - feeling me throb and pulse. I love the little moans in your throat as you delight in making me harder, teasing me...driving me wild with need to be inside you.

With a smile, you look directly into my eyes, trailing your hand up the length of my throbbing cock and then casually letting it drop under the hem of your skirt... Between us, no one would see...unless they were watching...as your fingers slip between your thighs, sliding quickly over your wet, swollen lips. Laughing and leaning in to gently kiss my ear, you trail the tips of your fingers across my lips. In the breath that follows a fluttering kiss on my neck, the tip of your tongue tracing a sweet figure in that heartbeat, I hear you whisper, "Taste me, Lover, I'm wet for you."

I take your hand and lead you further away from the people - to a quiet spot where I can press you back against a tree, the overhanging branches providing almost total privacy (or is it the inside of a closed bedroom door during a friend's house party...or is it the inside of your office door at work...). My lips find yours - such intimate passion, such communication of mutual hunger in the touch of eager tongues. My body presses against you, your breasts against my chest, your thighs open slightly to grind your tingling pussy against me.

Our hands pulling shirts free, pulling your skirt up, fumbling with my belt as our kisses are punctuated with eager moans and hungry gasps. Your fingers find my long, hot cock and a moan escapes your lips as your hand begins to slowly stroke up and down. At the same time my fingers, no longer content to feel how wet your thong is, pull the fabric aside and very gently begin to touch your very wet and very swollen pussy.

With each pass of my fingertips, your thighs spread open a bit more, your hips thrusting up towards me...I can feel each movement of your body whispering, "Please!'

"Mmmmm, I love making you wet, Sweetness, " I moan in your ear as my fingers slide inside you, "I bet you'd love to feel my tongue on your clit."

My words change you. You are not whispering, "please," now. The moan that escapes your lips, as the image of my mouth on your hot sex enters your mind, is different. It is not the sound of a request, it is the sound of a demand. Your hands grip my hair and with surprising strength for such a fine woman, you push me to my knees, hissing, "Lick me...make me cum!"

Only resisting your force enough to make you pull my hair a little harder, I make you pull my mouth between your spread thighs to your dripping pussy. With just the tip of my tongue, I lightly flick over and between your swollen lips. I can tell by the way you pull my hair and move your hips you want more contact...deeper, harder...but I do love teasing you. Flicking my tongue along that sensitive line at the top of your thigh, right next to your pussy, makes you pull my hair harder - trying to get my mouth on you. As much as I love teasing you, I love satisfying you. I only enjoy teasing you, Sweetness, so that it feels better when I do this: Spreading your swollen pussy with my tongue, making it stiff, I probe inside your wet, sucking pussy, bring a long awaited and longed for moan from somewhere deep inside you.

Your thighs spread wider as your body responds to the pleasure and your desire to have me taste you deeper. Dragging my tongue along the length of your wet slit. MMMmmmm. And up over your clit, making you gasp and shudder. Again. And again. Back down to suck your swollen lips into my mouth one at a time. I love the way you taste...the way your pussy feels on my tongue. I want to lick you for hours, bringing you close and not letting you cum; making you cum and then, after gently kissing your sex until you recover, making you cum again.

My hands caressing your breasts, your belly, the inside of your thighs. Feel my hands slide down your thighs to grip behind your knees. Pushing your knees up and apart as my tongue traces down the length of your pussy to trail lightly over your tight ass. Flicking, circling, teasing. The tip drilling little circles into your tailbone and then a long, slow lick right across that squeezing little bundle of nerves. Relax for me, Sweetness, I want to lick you there...i know you want to contract...relax for me...

And then, spreading your pussy open with my mouth, sliding up the length of your wetness, pushing the hood back with my lips to expose your swollen clit to my soft tongue. Sucking you gently, the tip of my tongue circling your sensitive sex, brushing, flicking...sucking harder...my tongue centering in for a moment quickly, then slow, loving caresses. You can feel my desire for your orgasm. You know I want you to cum now, while I'm sucking you. I want to taste you when you cum.

The sounds you make...how I love that. Feeling the tremors in your thighs, the way your belly flutters and your eyes close. Feeling your pussy contract around my fingers as you get closer and closer...your hands caressing my hair, pulling, pushing, thrusting...G-d!, I love turning you on! Cum for me...cum in my mouth.

"Yes, fuck yes..." among the incoherent sounds that escape your lovely throat as you drip and contract and explode in a wonderful, gasping orgasm. MMMmmmm. My tongue continuing to gently caress your clit as I feel your pussy, so full and tight and wet, cumming around my two fingers deep inside you.

As you begin to regain your senses, you glance around to see if, in our passion, we have given ourselves away. Seeing no one, your attention quickly returns to my still throbbing erection. Making you cum, tasting your pussy, has only made me harder...

to be continued.

Feedback welcome and answered in kind.  



Desire



You woke in the middle of the night from another of those dreams. You’ve been plagued with torrid sex dreams lately, but You’ve always had an active libido and didn’t start to worry about it until lately.

You are starting to worry because as of late you found yourself daydreaming also. It didn’t take anymore than an attractive stranger or just the smallest flirtatious look (real or imagined) to make your mind wander off. Not only was it distracting, but also you are starting to wonder if you had a problem.

Are you a nymphomaniac? You never thought of yourself as one. It’s not something that you wanted to think of yourself as because the word has bad connotations. Maybe you ought to talk to someone.

That’s it. You’d talk with your best friend Sara. Sara always made you laugh and feel better about things. Sara was even able to make you feel good about the flings that you had after her messy divorce.

Without even thinking of it you went straight to Sara’s house. It wasn’t until Sara’s husband opened the door with a questioning look on his face that you dimly started to remember that…

“Hi Donna, are you looking for Sara”? Asked Greg. 

“Um… yeah, I was” you stammer, “I just remembered that she’s away on business this week” you add. 

He looks at you for a moment. “Are you okay? You look like something’s bothering you. Can I call her for you”?

“No…. no” You say through a suddenly dry mouth.

“Come in” he says. “Let me get you some water. It’s been really hot outside lately”.

“No” you say quickly. “I really better go”

“What for”? He asks. “Sara will kill me if she knows that you stopped by and I didn’t take care of you- we know that your air conditionings broke down at home. Come on in. Stay a little bit and cool down. You really look like you need it”

He grabs your hand and pulls you inside, closing the door behind and sealing out the almost physically tangible humidity.

He looks in the refrigerator. “I know I suggested water” He says, “but you really look like you could use a nice, cold beer. Maybe two.”

He opens a couple of beers “from the back of the fridge” he says. “Coldest ones in there.” “Cheers” he toasts before he takes a long hard pull from his bottle.

You watch as he drinks and all you can think of is how those big, beefy hands would feel on your bare ass. You close your eyes and shake it off and take a drink from your own bottle. It’s really good.

You feel an overpowering sense that you should really get out of there, but you don’t want to seem rude. Greg has always been a great guy, and to tell the truth you’ve always been a little jealous of Sara that she seemed to get the last good one. 

All the more reason to leave…

All the sudden you realize that he’s been talking. “What” You say. What were you saying”?

“I was asking what’s wrong,” He says. “Can I help in some way?”

About thirty different sexual positions of help run through your mind before you say “Um… uh… I don’t think so” 

“Really” He says. “Maybe I can. Just because I’m a guy doesn’t mean I’m completely stupid” He adds with a grin.

You laugh. “No really, Greg. It’s um… girl stuff”

“Oh”! He says. “You should have said so!” “When it comes to that all I’m really good at is the girl and guy stuff,” he adds with a flirtatious wink and a lascivious grin. 

Now, Greg and you have flirted harmlessly and playfully hundreds of times in the past, almost always with Sara nearby, and you know that Greg’s intention was simply to be playful. You’d swear it isn’t really you when you hear your voice reply, in a husky, sexy tone, “Well then Greg, maybe you can help me out”

You know from the look on Greg’s face that he hears what hasn’t ever been there before in the byplay between you two. Sex.

You know Greg has been around the block and he can tell when a woman is being playful, and when a woman needs to play. You can tell he doesn’t know what he should say from the way his mouth gapes open. 

And you can tell that the idea turns him on from the way the bulge quickly grows huge in his shorts. 

Neither one of you say a thing as you stare into each other’s eyes, beers completely forgotten. He sees you look down at his crotch and back up to his face. He knows you know you turned him on and he doesn’t know what to say.

Silence continues as you watch yourself slowly slip out of the chair, down to your knees in front of Greg, his mouth still hanging wide open as he watches you reach up and unbutton his shorts and pull the zipper down. You feel like a helpless spectator as your own hands pull his boxers down far enough for his nine inches to pop out at you, hard, ready, fat, curved…

He overcomes his shocked and frozen state enough to say, “Donna, I really don’t think that we should…”

Which is all he can say before you slide your mouth over his throbbing shaft and push it past the back of your throat, taking all of it to the base, and cupping his balls as you start to suck as hard as you can.

His hand that had been until now seemingly glued to the table finds it’s way to the back of your head and pulls you hard on to his cock. 

Mindlessly you suck him like it’s the last cock you’ll ever get as mindlessly he fucks you in your face. You can taste it as the pre-cum starts to ooze from the head of his rock hard cock, and you savor the feel of his jism hitting the back of your throat and filling up your mouth before you can swallow his entire load. 

Cum dribbles down the side of your mouth, off your chin, and drips between your tits. You can feel it go down your cleavage and you take his still shooting cock and aim it at your face and chest, letting him shoot the rest of his considerable load all over you. 

You rub his load into your skin with one hand as you rise to your feet, pushing his shirt off and rubbing his load on his body as you press up against him.

He rises with you and pulls your shirt off, throwing it on the kitchen floor. He takes off your bra and throws it. You can feel one of his hands on the back of your neck and the other diving down the back of your pants. The feel of his beefy hand on the cheeks and in the crack of your ass feels better than you imagined.

You feel yourself being pushed toward the stairs as he roughly pushes down your shorts and tears your panties. You fall on the stairs, both naked now except for… the jewelry you both wear. Including his wedding ring. 

You glance at it and he senses it. He hesitates, and you can feel the guilt starting to set in. Quickly you whisper “Greg baby, this ain’t about love or marriage, this is about fucking. About sex. Fuck me like I’m your worthless whore.”

That does the trick. Talking like that always turns guys on. He seems to forget the ring and he pushes you a little further up the stairs. You can feel his huge cock between your thighs and you both fall forward on the steps. 

You can see his hands and this time, your conscience starts to balk, but he can sense it just like you did, and you feel his breathe against the side of your face as he says “no way, slut. You can’t back out that easy. Take it now, you fucking bitch” and shoves his cock into your soaked, aching, needful cunt.

Just what you needed, the talking and the fucking both. You can feel him penetrate you all the way to your womb with his throbbing cock. You can feel his hands on your hips as he fucks you right there on the stairs of his house. His and Sara’s house. You’re fucking your best friends husband on the stairs of their house. 

This time, though, the thought of that turns you on more. Because it’s wrong. This isn’t your man. He shouldn’t have his cock buried inside of you. The more you think about it the more turned on you get. You are so caught up that it’s a complete surprise when Greg shoves his pussy juice lubricated thumb into your ass. 

The shock makes you cry out in pain and pleasure. The feel of both holes getting fucked is quite simply indescribable. And the Orgasm that crashes upon you threatens your very sanity with its intensity.

You can feel the heat of his second load fill your hole and leak down your thighs. And you find that when he pulls it out, pulls you around and shoves it in your mouth saying “clean this off, you worthless whore” you can’t get enough of the taste of your cum mingled with his. You hungrily lick off his cock and balls as you shove three then four fingers into your cunt, continuing the orgasm, unwilling to let it end.

Now you know why you’re here. You knew, inside, that Sara was gone. You knew that if you could get Gary alone you would be able to fuck him. And you have. 

Later, as you gather your things, you look at him. “Don’t think this is over Big is Boy” You say. “There’s lots more places that you need to fuck me before we’re through”

He looks at you for a moment, Grabs your chin and kisses you. “Oh, don’t you worry” He says. “You’re my little whore, and we won’t be through until I say. And what’s more, you’ll do what I say when I say it. Remember that as you fuck that vibrator of yours later tonight.”

“Yes, sir” you say with a smile. You kiss him once more and leave.

How did he know that you were going home to fuck your vibrator?



Desire



Consider two questions to ask yourself. First, have you ever wondered what might have happened had you taken a different street or walked the same street at a different time? Second, have you ever looked at someone and literally drooled thinking how much you would like to rip off their clothes, run your hands all over their body, and then fuck them until you both screamed in total ecstasy! I’m not talking about the celebrity starlet or movie hunk type, but rather of real people like you and me. Of course you have. All of us have thought about those questions at one time or another. We wonder what if because most of us were too scared to take action. 

Regarding the first question you chose what you chose, and there is no going back, but it is fun to wonder what would have happened. Regarding the second question we almost always manage to restrain ourselves from such activities. Face it, if you are a man and do such an act without the person’s permission it is considered sexual assault and you end up in prison. The prospect of becoming some big guy’s bitch with his cock up your ass is not a pleasant thought, and is a very high price to pay for a fuck no matter how wonderful the man or woman was. On the other hand if you are a woman such an act is considered very brazen and could result in you getting fucked in ways you did not plan, and if you do it to another woman it again is considered sexual assault which can land you behind bars with your head between some bull dyke’s legs licking her lips. 

In my life I have had two experiences that to some extent addressed both questions. The first time I was not the drooler, but rather I was the target of someone else’s desires. Now I am by no means anything spectacular; maybe nice, okay, or at a stretch moderately handsome, but no where near the “drop dead I want to fuck you silly” category. I was never aware of anybody thinking of me in that way until Patti; a girl I met in of all places an elective religion class while attending a small Texas college. (What can I say? I needed an easy A, and this was on the accepted list.) She was cute with long blond hair, blue eyes, and an okay figure. I didn’t know her name and in fact had never spoken to her, but that changed early on a Sunday afternoon.

The Cowboys were on when someone knocked at the door of my one-bedroom garage apartment. I opened the door and there she was with her hair hanging loose, pleasant smile, eyes shining, and wearing a knee-length coat and flats.

“Hi, may I help you?”

“Hi, I hope I’m not disturbing you. You’re in my “Marriage and Family” class and I need some help if you have a little time.” With a movement of my hand I invited her inside; what else would I do with a blond on my doorstep asking to visit me.

“How may I help you?”

She stood facing me in the hall in front of two doors. To her left was the living room and to her right was the bedroom. The look on her face changed from beaming to very coy and seductive: “Actually, this has nothing to do with school. Ever since the beginning of the semester you are constantly on my mind. I can’t take my eyes off you, and I think about you all the time. I know you don’t see me that way, but I’m hoping I can change your mind.” She said all this while slowly unbuttoning her coat. 

“This is all I’m wearing. In a moment I’m gonna take it off and fuck you till you drop. The question is do you want to do it here, in the living room with the Cowboys, or on the bed.” She shrugged her shoulders and the coat fell to the floor revealing a very nice body; slim, trim, with curves in all the right places. 

As a gentleman I of course averted my eyes and immediately asked her to please put her coat back on so we could discuss this issue further. Yea, right! If you believe that you also believe the Pope is now practicing Judaism! I did what any 20-year old hormone machine would do. I abandoned the Cowboys, pointed toward the bed, and began ripping off my clothes to get beside her before I awoke from the dream.

It was not a dream. The girl was a fucking machine. She fucked me ever which way you can imagine. That afternoon I took her pussy from the front, back, and both sides. In later adventures she willingly gave me her ass and arranged sexual experiences involving other people including a few occasions with her, other girls, and large dogs. It was truly astounding the diversity of deviant sexual activities that went on in that small, supposedly conservative, Bible-Belt town in central Texas.

A major accomplishment that first afternoon was removal of my name from the list of “Pussy Eating Virgins.” With great care and determination Patti positioned my head above her dripping cunt telling me to lick her until she was dry then she pushed my face into the hairy juncture of her legs (At that time a shaven pussy was not the style.) That was a first, but every woman who has shared my bed since has benefited from that experience because I like eating pussy.

The experience with Patti was interesting, but she is not the main event of this narrative so to shorten the story let me summarize. I fell deeply in LUST, we married, had kids, and went through a very messy and painful divorce. It turned out she was a manic-depressive who became a compulsive over-eater, and who drove almost all her family from her life. I saw her a few years ago and it appeared she had grown four or five of her previous size bodies into one skin. The woman was beyond fat; she was morbidly obese in the 500 to 600 pound range. I know some very nice obese folks, but she is not one of them. 

That was my almost story, but there was a time when the dream became reality. She was 25, just graduated from law school, and entering the prime years of her good looks. That latter criterion is a tad shallow and does not adequately describe this beautiful creature. She was an athletic 5’6” tall with a figure most men would grasp at in a second. The woman’s butt was tight and round and her 36C tits stood high on her chest. Her face was angelic highlighted by deep brown eyes, dark auburn hair, and her sun-bronzed skin was smooth and flawless. In a word to me she was beautiful; much too beautiful to walk upon the streets of our planet.

I did not feel that way when first I laid eyes upon her because then she was a mere child of six or seven while I was twenty. She was the daughter of some friends, and at the time while she was beautiful it was in that little girl manner. Her parents were very attractive, but their appearance gave no hint of the beauty that would emerge when the child became a woman. Now almost twenty years later she had developed from a child through the gangly colt years of puberty until at last she had blossomed into adulthood. She was an emotionally mature and physically perfect woman who was aware of her sexuality; a predator on the loose in search of ways to satisfy the sexual needs she had kept repressed while she remained in her parent’s home. You might think it strange she continued to live with her parents through undergrad and law school, but it was one way to keep the student loans to a minimum; besides she was in an attached flat with a private entrance.

I was in the city on business and I decided to go out for an afternoon walk. It did not make any difference where, but on a whim I crossed the street to Brown Avenue and headed south. In less than a block I saw her familiar face coming my way. It took a moment, but as I watched her walk toward me, and despite the years, I knew who she was. I knew her and could not believe what she had become. The woman was beautiful beyond words. 

Woman, I can not continue to just refer to her as the woman. Her name is Alyson Katherine O’leary, but most of her life everyone had called her Kitty. To me she was Alyson because that is how I knew her as a child. 

Body erect, head held high, and hair blowing in the breeze Alyson walked past me without any sign of recognition. Why should she remember who I was; but even after all these years I remembered her, and had I not remember her it would not have changed for a second the impact she made on me. If it were not for my Jockey shorts constraining my dick I would have had a visible erection right there on the busy sidewalk as I turned to watch her walk away.

Maybe she did recognize me, or maybe she sensed my stare; for whatever reason she stopped and turned to look my way. It was a fast pivot and I could not avert my eyes. What was the sense of it anyway; I was standing flat footed on the sidewalk with my mouth hanging open. She caught me watching; not just watching, but staring at her.

“Do I know you sir, or are you just a dirty old man?”

“The answer is both. If I’m not mistaken your name is Alyson O’Leary.” She nodded yes. “Long ago I was an acquaintance of your parents, and I knew you as a child. The beautiful woman you have become simply takes my breath away. By the way my name is Nick; Nick Jones.”

She lowered her guard just a bit: “Glad to meet you Mr. Jones. Your name sounds familiar, but I don’t remember you. Thanks for the compliment.”

I was almost shaking at her presence and the sound of her voice, but with great willpower I managed to keep my voice steady. “Please call me Nick, and I doubt you would remember. Too many years have passed since I last visited, but it is nice to see you again. How are your parents?” 

She looked me directly in the eye, and in a very unexpected twist said: “They’re fine Nick, but do you really give a damn about my parents, or are you just making conversation? My guess is you do not care about them at all, but you are very interested in me.”

What could I say? She had me pegged exactly. I could lie, but she knew, and she was not adverse to telling me so. “You’re right. I didn’t turn around to stare because of your parents. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and yes I am very interested in meeting you, and maybe a few other things.”

“Do you mean fucking? Listen, I don’t understand what is going on with me, but when I walked past you I felt a shiver which is why I turned to look back. Also for some unexplained reason our feelings seem mutual. You’re certainly no stud yet I find you gorgeous. You are like a magnet; I am very attracted to you and I can’t explain why.” She paused to look at her watch “I have to complete some business errands. Where can I contact you say around 6:30?”

A feather landing on my nose would have knocked me to the ground. Here was the most beautiful and sexy creature in the world asking where she could meet me later. “I am at the Fairfield in room 204. I’ll be there if you decide to call.”

She looked at me with a smirk and an understanding nod of her head. “I’ll call! Not only will I call, but I’ll let you buy me dinner. Meet me in the hotel bar at 6:30, but I will call before then just to prove you wrong.” She watched me nod my head before she turned to continue whatever tasks she had to complete. As if I was rooted to the spot all I could do was stare watching the swaying motion of her skirt encased ass as she walked away.

In somewhat of a state of shock my feet shuffled me along the streets for a couple of hours before I was once again in front of the Fairfield Hotel. She had called, and in my absence had left a message calling her dare to telephone and reminding me when to meet her in the lounge. 

Do you remember the scene from Pretty Woman where Richard Gere arrives in the hotel lounge to meet Julia Roberts before he takes here to a fancy dinner? On first look he doesn’t see her, but when he turns his head again he sees the street hooker who has blossomed into an angel. A similar happening occurred to me only I already knew she was an angel. The bar was crowded, and on first look I did not see her. I peered through the smoke, looking intently sure I she would stand me up and I would eat alone, but then I saw her stand and wave to me. If my knees were weak before they were now almost total mush. The most exquisite creature I had ever witnessed was beckoning me toward a booth in the back of the bar. Her hair fell in waves around her face and down toward her shoulders. The dark auburn color was greatly enhanced by her low cut cobalt blue dress and black velvet diamond-studded choker. It remains a mystery how my legs were able to move just like it is a mystery why as I neared her it appeared she was shrouded in a halo; probably just smoke and a wistful imagination. 

“Good evening Nick. I was afraid after thinking about it you might not show. I glad you did otherwise we might have had a scene outside your door.” 

“I thought it was the fashionable thing to arrive a bit late?” said I jokingly. I took a deep breath as I slid into the booth across from her. “You are too knowing. In fact I almost chickened out. Our ages and the fact I knew your parents raises some questions.” What I did not say to her was my ego and I were scared; rejection was not something we dealt with well. 

In a normal tone yet sultry voice Alyson replied: “I’m proud of you. You overcame your fear, and you are here. Nick, you look good. Good enough to eat.”

“Thanks. I would say the same, but that is redundant.”

I started to make some small talk, but Alyson waved her hand signaling me to stop, and with that same hand reached out to grab mine. It was as if every worry in the world disappeared. I was in heaven with an angel; an angel holding my hand. 

“Stop worrying and don’t say anymore. We both know what we want. The only reason I had us meet here was to allow a fast get away for you if necessary. I want you, and I want you right now! We’re leaving. Did you say your room was 204?”

I nodded my assent then followed behind her as we wove our way out of the bar. Watching her ass sway was mesmerizing, but the amazing thing was the feel of her hand in mine. Back and forth her hips moved keeping my eyes fixated as if in a hypnotic trance; a trance in which I remained until she spoke.

“The key please, Nick. Please give me your key.”

I fumbled in my pockets trying to locate the key; back then hotels sto;; used traditional keys. At last it was found, handed to Alyson, the door opened, and our entry complete. Alyson looked around then turned, took me in her arms and kissed me. She kissed me hard then stepped back with some force slapped my face.

“Wake up Nick. If you are going to be any good to me tonight you have to come out of your daze.”

It was like cold water hitting my face. Here I was with a lovely creature, a woman who had professed wanting me as much as I wanted her, and I was acting as if I was in a stupor. “Fool! Fool! Fool!” I said to myself. Then I looked at Alyson’s face reassuring me it was not a dream. I squeezed her body next to mine and returned her kiss with all the ardor I could muster. My tongue dueled with hers for rights to explore the other’s mouth. Sometimes I won and sometimes it was her, but we each took a fair share.

As we delved into the passionate kisses our hands began to search for ways to remove whatever barriers prevented access to other’s body. I found the zipper along her back and lowered it to just above the crack of her ass leaving the dress clinging to her shoulders. She found the buttons to my shirt as well as the buckle, snap, and zipper to my trousers. All my items of clothing associated with those objects fell to the floor. Alyson stood with her dress open in the back revealing a shiny blue bra with matching panty and garter belt. On her legs were white hose, and high heeled shoes. She was as sexy as you can imagine. As for me I did not think my appearance was so alluring standing in my dress black briefs, black socks, and shoes.

The briefs did not remain in place long as Alyson kneeled to the floor, grasped my underwear, lowered them down my legs, and exposed herself to a slap in the face from my rigid cock as it exploded upward from its confines between my legs. Using both her hands Alyson corralled my rampant member and both visually and manually inspected its every aspect. 

“I’ve seen and had bigger, but I’ve never seen prettier or I hope experienced better. Are you a good fuck with this?”

“Some have said so. You’ll have to judge for yourself, but keep in mind I’m not 25 so pace yourself.”

“Thanks for the advice, but I think I will do whatever I want until one of us can’t do it anymore.”

Alyson moved her tongue and lips along my penile shaft wetting every surface until she engulfed the prick head with her mouth. As her lips closed around the corona Alyson applied, through talented use of her tongue, a pulsating suction that almost caused an ejaculation of my sperm. Alyson must have sensed my closeness because she relaxed her grip to allow me time to regroup. 

“God, that was fantastic. You have an amazing mouth, and I am too sensitive to even touch you or my dick right now.” I paused for just a moment. “Will you do something for me? Will you dance for me? I mean strip to music.” 

Alyson stood, deposited me in a chair, and found some slow pounding Latin music on the radio. Her body undulated to the rhythm as she began to spin a sultry web of intrigue and suspense. Slowly, piece by piece her clothes fell away from her body. First to go was the dress. With a shrug of each shoulder it glided down her torso where it pooled at her feet and was kicked aside. In just her undergarments and heels Alyson danced in a world of her own that held me completely enraptured. Next came the shoes and then with devilish teasing the hose. These she unsnapped from each garter in turn alternating from leg to leg, and rolled the hose down her legs two or three inches at a time; matching the same movement on the other leg. When at last they were gone she spun around several times removing her garter belt and waving it in the air until she released her grip and the sexy piece of lingerie landed in my lap.

Now, as if I was not there, Alyson made love to herself. Her body moved to the rhythm of the music as her hands gently caressed her body. Her passion level, constantly increasing, reached a point where she could no longer bear the touch of the last clothing upon her skin. She reached to the gap between her breasts and released the bra’s clasp. With it disconnected Alyson slowly withdrew the cups briefly exposing her perfect breasts with their deep pink areolas and erect nipples; almost ½ inch in length. She cast the bra aside and replaced its cups on those beautiful breasts with her hands; hands that squeezed, massaged, and tweaked the appendages on her chest.

One item of tormenting clothing remained, and her hands began to move down her body toward the diminutive piece of blue silk lodged between her legs. Truly it was just a wisp of almost nothing connected to two tiny side strings that met an equally tiny string emerging from the crack between her butt cheeks. The silk hid almost nothing. Only her vaginal lips were incased in the piece of wet cloth; wet with the moisture dripping from her cunt.

Alyson toyed with the panty’s removal first beginning to push the strings down her hips then changing her mind and rubbing her hands between her legs to feel the heat emanating from her pussy. She teased by flashing images of what resided behind the cloth, but she showed me nothing. Tiring of the game Alyson very slowly, so very slowly, with her back turned toward me slipped the panty from her body. She then swayed backwards, looking over her shoulder, to a spot beside the bed, sat, and managed to get under the covers without my seeing her vaginal area.

“Are you going to stay over there all night?” she whispered in a sweet husky voice.

In less time than it takes to type this sentence I moved between the covers tightly pressing my naked body against the woman of my dreams. Her body was warm, a little sweaty from the dance and her passion, and so hard and soft at the same time. It astonished me how every sense of my body was attuned to Alyson. I could hear, feel, see, smell, and taste every aspect of her being. 




Desire



Immediately we entered into a deep hug kissing fervently, and our hands began to explore. She had examined my cock in detail while I had not touched anything of importance below her face. I moved to rub my hands and my mouth on her breasts and very erect nipples. As if a whisper of a dream my lips glazed against, and caressed the lines of her neck, shoulders, and upper chest. Very slowly my lips and tongue began to search out the sensitive spots on each of her breasts. I sensed the tension in her body; tension that was momentarily released when my teeth grasped her left nipple and Alyson bucked upward in a small orgasm. It was the first, and it suggested many more were to follow. 

I licked, nibbled, and caressed every surface of both her breasts and upper body before I shifted my focus. It happened that as I moved Alyson also moved curling into a fetal ball with her back toward me. I bent down and sloppily kissed my way downward over the bumps of her spine in search of her buttocks, the tender spots on the backs of her knees, and what I soon discovered were very ticklish feet and toes. Each area received attention, but on the upward route I applied special attention and concentration to her lower buttocks and the tiny brown anal opening; access to which was gained by spreading her cheeks. She responded very favorably to that lingual onslaught. So much so that once again her body shook in small orgasmic thrills. To me the indication was clear that Alyson was pleased and would enjoy a more substantive anal adventure.

There remained one more region of her body to which I had not paid oral homage. Toward that region I proceeded by rolling Alyson to her back, spreading her legs revealing a cleanly shaven pussy, and positioning my face where her nether lips resided. Using my tongue and lips I slowly and gently licked and kissed up and down the outside of her labia. The ultimate target was the clit at the top where the labia joined, but that objective was not planned as a target for a long time to come. 

Slowly I licked inside and outside of the labia never quite reaching her vaginal opening or clit. Many times I ventured very near, but never touched either of them. In response to my ministrations Alyson’s excitement level grew, but so also grew her frustration level; a level that suddenly maximized and in a sense detonated.

“LOOK YOU MOTHERFUCKER LICK MY PUSSY, CLIT, AND EVERYTHING ELSE RIGHT NOW!! I MEAN DO IT RIGHT NOW!!!”

Alyson grabbed the sides of my head and positioned my mouth exactly where she wanted me. I received the message and the perceived threat that failure to obey might prove perilous. My tongue assaulted her entire genital area applying wet direct pressure to everything I touched. She climbed higher, but what sent her over the edge was the sharpness of my teeth as they nipped at her clit. Alyson exploded in an orgasm of monumental size, strength, and duration. 

“FFFFFFUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKK MMMMMEEEE!!!! OH GOD FFFFFFUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKK MMMMMEEEE!!!! PUT YOUR COCK IN ME AND FUCK ME NOW! OH PLEASE FUCK ME!”

I learned long ago when a woman speaks in such a manner it is a good time to follow directions. Leave any misplaced macho image behind and do exactly what the woman says which is exactly what I did. Alyson was well lubricated and the rigid member between my legs slid into her cove of pleasure without resistance. It slid in fast and deep, and once in position I commenced the traditional in and out movement as fast and hard as I could. POUND! POUND! POUND! I crashed my pubic mound against her clit while my dick moved back and forth along the wet velvety walls of Alyson’s cunt until I crested the summit of no return and reached the point where I could no longer pump. I reached orgasm, and in the manner of men free from any bounds screamed out my release.

Inside her cunt Alyson felt my cock begin to eject squirt after squirt of warm liquid, and she enjoyed each contraction as the cock planted my seed deep in her vaginal canal. It was these contractions that brought on Alyson’s most intense cum of the evening. Her orgasm came from a spot deep in her being; a spot which she had never visited before. A spot arrived at through a combination of physical and emotional stimulators. Her orgasm was as intense as any she had ever known. It was not so much due to the sex, which was grand, but rather due of the man; a man that until a few hours ago had not existed in her world. He did not exist before, but he existed now and Alyson knew she never wanted to let him leave her side again. With that warm comforting thought she entered a deep sleep as did he.

Next morning I awoke to find myself alone. Was it a dream after all? If it was a dream it was the sweetest, and now that I was awake the saddest I had ever experienced. I headed to the bathroom where on the vanity mirror in lipstick was written: “See note on table. ITILY, Alyson.” It wasn’t a dream. She actually existed. 

Despite my excitement over the message on the mirror, I heeded the demands of my bladder and took a long morning piss before rushing to the table and finding an envelope addressed “My Dearest Nick.” I wanted to rip it open, but restrained myself to preserve this wonderful memento. Instead I carefully opened the envelope and extracted a key and a note that read: 

Dearest One, 

I hope you do not object to my terms of endearment. As much as I wanted to remain I had to attend to some business at the office; they paged and I had to go. You were out like a log, and I did not want to disturb your rest; you will need your energy later. What I’m doing should not take long. 

Do you feel there is something between us? If so please do the following things.

1.Notify the people where you live that your schedule has changed, and you will let them know more later.

2.Check out of the hotel. 

3. Move your things to 315 Green Leaf Drive apartment 203

4. Call me at 713 555 1212 when you are settled.

5. If you can cook please fix a romantic dinner. If not I will pick up something on the way home. We are not going out tonight, and maybe not this entire weekend.

6. If you do not feel as I do please call and talk with me. I will try and change your mind.

7.Personal questions: where do you live and what do you do? Do you need a good attorney?

ITILY, Kitty Alyson

 PS: You are the only person I know who calls me Alyson. I like it that way.

I read the note twice more then refolded and put it away. It was a very significant invitation that could create a large and important change in my life. As I sat at the table I thought about the situation for a long while. It was just one night, but she was wonderful; everything I could ever hope for and she seemed to like me also. You can’t tell everything from one night, but . . . It seems there is always a “but.” My big dilemmas were two. One: our age. There was quite a difference in our ages which meant we had generational differences in perspective. Two: her parents. I had not associated with them in many years, but I still harbored a sense of loyalty and wondered how they would feel about Alyson and I as a couple. The rational negative thoughts seemed to overwhelm the passion driven positive thoughts. The conflicts drove home the aspect of how a great situation can have difficult solutions. 

Ringggggg went the phone next to my right hand. I placed the receiver next to my ear, but before I could speak:

“Nick, please don’t say a word; just listen. You are worrying and fretting over us aren’t you? I don’t know how, but I sensed it. My guess is you’re scared about our age and my parents. Is that right? You don’t have to answer; I know what you’re thinking. I have thought about the same things, and I can read your mind from here. Well, stop it! I have. You have a say and so do I, but my parents don’t count at all. Your age does not matter to me. Actually, I find it arousing and the difference is only a state of mind. Next, I am an adult woman. I make my own decisions, and do what pleases me. I do not need my parent’s permission to do anything. 

You have a choice. You can run from this if you want, but if you do without giving us a chance you are a fool who does not deserve me.” She paused to take a breath, but again before I could speak, and in a calmer voice she continued: “I am sorry if that sounded too harsh, but I want you to understand what is happening on my side. I don’t know why, but I just know you are supposed to be a very important part of my life. I want to give us a chance. I don’t know what that means other than a huge amount of change. It will require much, and it begins with enough bravery to step into an unknown future. Do you want us? Are you brave enough?”

At last she paused and waited for me to speak: “You’re right about everything. I was thinking, and I was getting scared. Those issues are significant to me, but it’s mostly that I’m just scared of what we are undertaking. The manner of what we are talking about is very out of character for me. It is fast without much time for thought. I . . . . .find it difficult to believe we are talking like this.” I paused to take a deep breath before making the fateful decision. “But it is also exciting, and it feels right. What the hell. I am a very good can cook. I’ll see you at home later.” I started to hang up, but rapidly said: “Alyson, in answer to your questions I live in Maryville on the other side of the state. I will tell you what I do later.” Again I paused: “You didn’t ask one very important question, but I will answer it anyway: I am neither married nor involved in any established relationship.” With that I hung up the phone and prepared to carry out her instructions.

On the way to Alyson’s apartment I stopped by the market to get some things for a very special dinner I planned to prepare. What I had not told Alyson was my position as owner and Executive Chef of Melville’s an upscale gourmet steak and seafood restaurant. I wanted this piece of information to come as a surprise. It was at this point that self doubt and fear again emerged. I knew so little of this fabulous creature. I had no idea what food she liked or disliked. How could I chance this? Of course I wasn’t exclusively thinking about dinner? The fear was momentary before I resolved to trust in us; particularly in her. That thought enabled me to think more clearly, and to realize if she was adventurous as me she would probably like anything I prepared. I selected the needed items and headed home. It seemed strange to say home, but I felt comfortable doing so.

At two that afternoon she called to say she was on the way and she had a very peculiar itch she needed my help to scratch. By that time I had most everything prepped for dinner so it was easy to put it aside to wait for later. The important task now was to position myself so I could scratch her itch. 

Alyson burst through the front room yelling: “Nick, Nick where are you?” I was naked reclining under the sheets in the bedroom which was her next destination. She ran and jumped on the bed cuddling to me with as much of her body as she could match to mine. “Oh God Nick I have missed you so much. I can’t believe and I don’t understand what is happening, but I like it and I’m not running away from it.” 

We lay there a few minutes just holding each other before she whispered in my ear: “Do you have the right tool to scratch a very specific type of itch?” My cock had gotten hard when she called and now it just got harder.

“Maybe, it depends on the location of the itch.” As I spoke she ran her hand under the sheet and up the inside of my leg to grasp my rigid dick.

She squeezed and caressed my manly member then whispered:

“I think this is the perfect tool to scratch most of my itches. Do you mind if we give it a try?”

I placed myself under her command; it was her itch and her show. Besides it did not really matter to me which itch got scratched first as long as I was doing the scratching.

Alyson arose from the bed to disrobe. Her moves were very utilitarian with no hint of seductiveness, but to me the opening of every button, hook, snap, and zipper was arousing. It was as if I had never seen her before, and in a sense I had not as much of what we did last night was done in the dark and it was now daylight. As long as I live I will never forget the bend of her neck, the curve of her breasts, the swelling of her nipples, or the hairless view between her legs she revealed to me that afternoon. She was playful, but very direct in her manner; she wanted to fuck, everything else could wait for another time.

When she was naked she jumped back under the covers so we lay skin to skin. Her touch was like a fire of arousal; it was very hot, but it did not burn. She passionately kissed my lips then positioned herself above me with her pussy hovering over my cock. 


“The first itch I want you to scratch is right here between my legs. Let me help you get it in the right place.” She correctly aligned our genitals then plunged her pussy down the rigid shaft of my prick. Her pussy was so wet from her own lubrication that no obstacle hindered the penetration of my dick along her cuntal folds. Up and down she bounced until we were sweaty and I was on the verge of cumming; she arrived first moaning and shaking then resting on my chest. I did not cum.

After a few moments she raised her head smiling: “That was good, but I have another itch that needs your specific type of help. This time you need to start with a little oral medication.” She disengaged her cunt from my cock and spun around to place that wet, aromatic, and tasty portion of her anatomy upon my face. “You can start there, but that is not exactly where my itch is located.” 

I began to clean the excess pussy juice from around her labia. In response Alyson moaned and groaned with pleasure until she slightly shifted position to place her anal opening within reach of my tongue. Here was proof of what I suspected last night; Alyson enjoyed anal adventures. 

“I want you to doctor that little hole very carefully and when I think it is time I want you to use your hard scratcher to satisfy an itch I have just inside the opening.”

It was not a hard, maybe a better word is difficult, decision. My tongue leapt to lave her anal aperture. I licked and slobbered for all I was worth, and while Alyson moaned appreciatively I knew she was not getting all that she needed or wanted; four fingers on each hand worked into to her ass one at a time solved that problem. I was not in a position to consider a fist, but it is amazing how eight fingers moving in and out of a person’s asshole will change their disposition. In short order Alyson was moaning in a different manner with a much different intensity.

“Do you still want to employ my itch scratcher, or is this meeting your needs?” I asked. 

“Fuck you Nick! This is great but it’s not enough. I need your cock so yes I want you to use that tool. Just allow me a few more minutes of this. I’m almost ready. I’ll let you know when.” My fingers continued to move in, out, and around her rectal portal causing more and more moaning accompanied by a great deal of wiggling. 

“Now Nick, I want you in my ass now!” She rolled off, spun around, grabbed, aimed, and impaled her ass on my very hard dick. There was no concern for pain as she was well lubricated and well stretched; a condition that quickly corrected itself as her sphincter clamped down on my cock. 

The motion was the same, but the hole was different. She demonstrated to me another aspect of herself as she achieved anal induced orgasm after orgasm while bouncing up and down on my ass-fucking prick. I think she could have gone on for a much longer time but that was not true for me. The previous vaginal activity had left me hanging very close and it did not take a great deal of time for me to cross the threshold and begin pumping my seed into her ass. 

Alyson knew what was happening and understood how sensitive the end of a cock is after orgasm. We did not cum together, and unfortunately she was left hanging just a bit, but we both enjoyed ourselves immensely. With a little help from a buzzing friend she kept in her bedside table she was soon relaxed just like me. After quite awhile of cuddling and cooing as lovers do we took a shower and I finished dinner. 

It was only when Alyson walked into the kitchen to see what was for dinner that she discovered her soul mate was a VERY good cook. Just to wet your appetite we feasted on tossed green salad with sliced red onions and orange slices covered with a raspberry vinaigrette, roasted lobster-stuffed beef tenderloin with an apple/cilantro chutney, roasted rosemary potatoes, lightly steamed asparagus, hot rolls, and for dessert vanilla whipped cream topped strawberry short cake made with strawberries macerated in Balsamic vinegar: there were no leftovers for later.

All these events took place several years ago. Our lives continue along paths we have mapped for ourselves. Alyson changed my life in many ways. Because of her I am a better man; a better person, and a better human being. Our life together is happy; for me it is the happiest time I have ever known or ever will know. This all came about because of a chance meeting while walking down the right street at the right time and through pure chance encountering the one person who I literally drooled about as she walked by me. In that instant I wanted to rip off her clothes, run my hands all over her body, and then fuck her until both of us screamed in total ecstasy! It happened to me. I hope you are so fortunate.



Desire



I want to know. I want to know when you're thinking about me, when you're feeling happy, when you're feeling sad. I want to know when you feel excitement; I want to know when you feel euphoria. I get off on knowing you are having fun. Thinking about you mid-orgasm makes me shudder with extreme pleasure.

I want to taste you. I want to suck on your fingers, your toes, your neck, your nipples, labia, and your clit. I want to drive my tongue deep inside you, wiggle it around, curl it, and squirm my tongue around inside you. To taste you. I want you to cum tonight.

I have this little massager from bed bath and beyond. Just sort of these wooden balls held together by very short dowel rods. If I were with you tonight, I would have you lay naked on your front, and I would massage every inch of you... your shoulders, lower back, your calves, your butt. I'd kiss every part as I finished so your muscles would be as loose as they've ever felt. Then I'd roll you over and begin to massage your legs, your inner thighs. I'd continue to kiss every inch after I finished massaging. Before long, I'd toss the massager aside in favor of just kissing everything. Not a second goes by between kisses on your neck, cleavage, belly, knees, nipples, everything. But I wouldn't kiss the nipples at first. I'd have to tease you first. Holding my mouth over them about a quarter inch, I'd breathe on them. I'd match the rise and fall of your breasts as you breathe. You start to jut your chest out, trying to get me to touch them, to lick them, to kiss them, to bite them, just to make contact in any way. But I would pull away just enough. Then I'd kiss your lips and then suck as hard as I can on the nipple. I would take off my shirt and press my chest against your naked breasts, feeling our skin touch our bodies against each other.

I'd caress your shoulders, knead your breasts, and when your arms drop to my belt, I'll slide off my pants, but you don't get to feel me inside you just yet. I have to taste you, make sure you're wet enough. I bring your knees up and apart, so that your ankles nearly pressed to your beautiful ass. I'd run one long lick from your vagina to the top of the clitoris, tracing the slit and giving almost no pressure. Then I'd use my hands to pull apart your outer labia, revealing the wonderful treasures inside. I'm mesmerized, dazed by the beauty of your sex - as I always am, every time we're together.

I'd begin by placing my tongue against the very top of your clitoris, where it is least sensitive, and running my tongue in almost microscopic circles. You moan, and your hips match those motions. There's my favorite bit of skin between the vagina and the anus. It's soft, and usually extremely sensitive. I like to apply a little pressure there, maybe stroke it a bit while I perform. Then I slide a finger inside you, twisting it around a bit to get you wet. I move my hand so the palm is facing up, and curl my finger in a 'come here' motion.

I drive my tongue deep inside you, wiggle it around, curl it, and make you squirm around my tongue inside of you. My tongue stays hard on your clit. I start to put more pressure on it, move a little lower on it, where it is more sensitive. You can feel my finger on the inside and my tongue on the outside, and it feels like I'm trying to touch them. My other hand moves down below the vagina and lightly strokes the soft skin there. You feel electricity shooting through your body and you arch your back. I want you so badly. I just want to wrap my arms around you, drive deep inside you, and feel you milking my cock. While I hold you tight, your beautiful body spasming, pulsing. And you pass out for just a moment from the overwhelming joy. But I discipline myself, forcing myself to wait until you cum. I want you to get dripping wet. I want you to feel an intense orgasm at my hands - and tongue.

And when you finally stop writhing, I slide up your body, your knees fall conveniently to the sides of my hips, and your legs wrap around me. I attach my lips to each nipple and give it a suck, then kiss you deeply. Then I slide inside you. You're tight, hot, wet, and you feel my cock sliding in and out. I can still feel a few squeezes, involuntary waves from your now passing orgasm. My hands explore your body, every inch from caressing your checks, your forehead, stroking your hair, squeezing your breasts, sliding down to our shoulders. And after what feels like days of pure joy, my pounding inside you, sometimes long, deep strokes, and sometimes extremely quick and shallow, and occasionally hard forceful thrusts. I part your lips with mine, close my eyes, drive my tongue deep inside your mouth, kiss you passionately, and thrust my hips forward, grabbing the edge of the mattress and I start gushing deep inside you.



Desire



Actually this would have not been easy unless I came across this wonderful site, where I read other people experience and thought of giving away my own. To introduce my self I am 30yrs married to a beautiful women now of 28yrs. We are happily married couple for last 6yrs now and were having a very regular life till last 4 yrs before. The incident, which happened last 4yrs before, has completely changed out life in the most beautiful way. About my wife, Ritu, she is really beautiful with 32 – 26 –30 in size even today. Has a fair complexion and a naughty look in her eye. Without wasting any more time let me start with the actual incident that happened 4 yrs before.

One evening when I came from my office, Ritu told me that she has a surprise for me. She told me that she had participated in some quiz program and now since she has won the quiz we both are been invited to a beach resort in Goa for free stay of 4 nights and 5 days. It sound usual to me as there were lot of such quiz program going on which gave a newly married couple a chance to stay at some isolated resorts. She told me that immediately after 2 days we have leave for Goa. We were given two tickets of a A/c bus. We got prepared and boarded the bus on thursday afternoon from one of their pickup points. Ritu was wearing a saree and I a T – Shirt with jeans.

Soon I found that our rear seats were occupied by two young people of around 25 – 27 yrs of age. One of them, sitting exactly behind Ritu was continuously starring at her. I am usually use to that kind of looks, because Ritu is really very good looking. She was sitting in window seat and looking out side of the bus, when I informed her that one for her fan is sitting exactly behind her. But she ignored it saying “ Don’t pay him any attention.”

The first stop at hotel was to have our dinner. I went inside the hotel to get fresh and when I came out, I saw that same person talking to Ritu. And also she was talking with a ease. As I neared them, I thought they changed their topic and just started making a new discussion. He introduced him self as Rohit and his friend Manoj. They both were commercial photographers and were going to Goa for some kind of assignment. When asked where they are stationed, to my surprise they mentioned the same hotel name where we were staying. But I took that as a co incident. 

Since the air was blowing cool, they asked us if they can take some photos of ours and we agreed for that. There was some dense forest near by and we entered in to that for some natural photos. They had some joint photos of ours. Then one of them, I think Rohit said to me,” If you don’t mind can I take some photos of your wife alone.” He promised that he would not use it for anything else. And I saw no problem in that. After some hesitation Ritu agreed for that. At first he took some normal photos by asking her to stand near a tree or while sitting near a bush. Then he asked Manoj to help Ritu giving a better pose. Manoj went near her and asked her to open her hairs. So Ritu opened her hairs and let them fall on her face. She looked great in this pose, same as we see in some magazine. After taking few more photos, Manoj asked to make her hairs wet by pouring some water on them. So Rohit got a bottle of water from the hotel and made her hairs wet and now they started to shoot some more photos. I was sitting on a near by rock and watching all this. One of my minds was saying to stop all this, but some thing beneath me was holding me to do so. My mind said to me, “Just wait and watch” 

Till now they both had convinced her to pour some water on her saree and put it on her shoulders. And Ritu was also co-operating with them. She already was wearing a sleeveless blouse with a deep back and neck, which made her look more sensuous. Now that they had taken more of her photos, Rohit said to me, if you don’t mind can you bring a towel and a new saree for Ritu, as she was completely wet by now. I, as a slave was obeying their orders. I went to the bus and brought a towel with new saree and her blouse. But when I came back, I did not find them all at the place. I got bit worried and searched them near by. But I soon found them more inside the forest. To my surprise, Ritu was made to remove her blouse; her saree was lying on the ground from her waist. She was only on her bra sitting on a rock looking upwards. And Rohit was standing behind her without his shirt on. His jean pant was completely wet and he was pouring more water on her face from up, while Manoj was busy taking their photos. As they saw me, Manoj said, “Where were you Sir? We were planning to take some joint photos of yours and Madam. But since the sun was soon settling we could not loose the time, hence Rohit had posed instead of you. I hope you don’t have any objection for that.” I had no choice, because, already they had started taking photos of Ritu. By now Ritu was completely wet with water from top to bottom. She was standing with only her bra on her and with her saree opened till her waist. Of course she was looking damm sexy. 

Just then Manoj said, “ Now that you have co-operated to such and extent, so why don’t you please co-operate some more.” I asked him, “What do you want?” He said they want some joint photography with Ritu. I rejected the idea. But then Ritu convinced me saying, they are just taking some photos and won’t be using for anything unless our permission. After they promised to do so, all four of us dropped from the bus for a stay at the hotel. We booked next day tickets of the same bus and with our clothes bag we entered the deep inside the forest. Rohit and Monoj had very good knowledge about the forest because they found a very good waterfall for their shoot. Now Ritu was asked to lye on one of the rock with her saree falling down in the water. And she did so. Manoj was standing behind her with all his body wet with water and his face near her face as if kissing her chin. Ritu was also made wet with the water. She was asked to raise one of her leg from her knees. Manoj pulled her saree up, so that her white skin was visible up to her thighs. Ritu was also giving very seductive looks. I could not control my cock getting hard. Manoj had kept his one hand on her open thigh and with other he was caressing her hairs with his mouth near her face.

They both were alternately taking poses with her and also simultaneously taking photos of hers. I was not able to understand if all this was going correct or wrong. But the desire of seeing one’s own wife as a sexy model cannot be buried. And that desire kept me away from stopping them doing so.

Now that both of them had removed their pants also, Ritu was asked to be only with her inner clothing. She removed her saree completely. Let it be spread on the rocks for a better site. Now she was only with her bra and panty. And both these people were only on their underwear. Ritu was made to stand; Manoj was holding her from back with his one hand on her breast and other on her stomach. His face buried under wet hairs, kissing her neck. Oh my, that was real sexy pose to see. But here she was my own wife and he was some stranger, just met few hours ago, and now he was with my wife holding her tightly. Moreover they both were with hardly any clothes on them. It was very difficult to believe all this. They took few more photos in that situation. Now Rohit who was standing near me taking all these photos requested me, “Sir Can you do one favor please?” I could not imagine what more favor he wants from me. I just looked at his face. Showing me the camera, which was adjusted on the tripod stand he said,” Sir Hope you don’t mind taking some photograph while I joining them both. You just need to click this button when we give you a ok signal from there.” Without even waiting for my answer he joined both of them. And I, as if hypnotized took the control of the camera. 

Now that Ritu was standing in between both of them and these two guys were holding here one from behind and the other from front, I was taking their photographs. Both of them were alternately exploring my wife’s body with their hands. They were touching almost every part of her’s and I was watching like as if I am the assistant of these three. Slowly they stopped even giving “OK” signals to me and were busy hugging her. To my surprise Ritu was now not looking at me, and also busy giving them the pleasure they needed.

Oh no. Now they had removed their underwear and standing with their 8.5” inch dick in their hand. She was made to sit on her knees and alternately they were making her suck their cock. Ritu, till now, had never taken my cock in her mouth, was eating their cock like a master in the act. Till then Rohit had removed her bra and also her panty, Ritu was made to stand completely naked in front of them. Manoj was now busy sucking her boobs while Rohit was licking her pussy. And I was just taking photos and actually masturbating there standing behind the camera. 

By now Rohit from front was trying to insert his big fat dick inside her. I think she was having pain in taking that inside. It was clearly visible on her face. But after some tryouts he was successful in inserting his cock inside her. She gave a big moan as it went inside her. I was now only looking at all of them with my cock in hand. Ritu was looking at me and saying,”Hey manu, why are you looking that way? Don’t you like to see your wife being fucked by a strange man? This is all planned. We had already planned to meet here and make you have this feeling, because it was you who has shown a desire to see me being fucked by a stranger. So I called these two people whom I met on net and got this plan done.” Now I remembered that why Ritu was busy chatting on computer till late at night. And of course it was I who had shown a desire to see her being fucked by a stranger. Now I really started to love to see the sight. 

Now Manoj was trying to insert his dick from behind of Ritu. That was not possible I told him. Because we had tried this earlier which, gave a big pain to Ritu. But he assured me not to worry. As there is always a way if you have will. He immediately added some lubricant on Ritu’s ass. I was seeing the pain on Ritu’s face. Now slowly he started to apply pressure on her ass and finally with a big killing shout of Ritu he entered her. She was shouting with pain and these two were fucking her madly. I thought of rescuing her from both of them. I went near her, but she just shouted at me,”Hey you. Just be away from us and let us enjoy. Don’t you ever dare to interrupt us.” I could not believe those words were of my own wife.

I left the place leaving my lovely wife in the hands of two stanger. I could not imagine what all they might have done with my wife.

Late at night I saw them sitting a the table of hotel having some coffee. As I went near them Ritu said, “Don't worry darling. They don’t have any film in the camera. So don’t worry about our privacy.” And this was all done only to please me as I had a desire to see her being fucked. 

Next day Rohit and Manoj, which were not their real name, left for Bombay and we headed for Goa for a real fantastic stay. From then on we have been to the same place twice and had same kind of experience with one couple.

For any comment do write to me through the link below.



Desire



for D.

While I was still at school, in the time before my marriage, I worked as a lab assistant in the public computer lab. One day I received this message from a girl named Kathy, who was just checking out people with unusual handles. Mine happened to be set at "Starship Capt." that day and she wanted to know if I was a Star Trek fan. Silly question.

I finally met her in real life a few days later when she came into the lab office asking for help on her BASIC project for CS 114. She was a few inches shorter than me, with long wavy brown hair, deep sea-green eyes, luscious cherry lips, a nice bust (not too big), and a behind that made it hard for me to calmly deal with her problem. I sat at her terminal and we worked on her program for nearly an hour (my supervisor came by at least twice and reminded me not to spend too much time helping one person). We were sitting in the far corner of Room F, a small room in the back of the main lab. It was dark outside and the lab was fairly empty, even though it was only just after seven. As we worked, Kathy was questioning me about what other TV shows I liked, what kind of music I listened to, if I had a girlfriend, etc. This last one really got my attention and it began to seem like maybe she was interested in me, though I didn't know why. I decided to test the waters.

"Hmm?" I responded, seeming interested only in my job.

"I asked you if you had a girlfriend," she repeated.

"Not really," I said. "I haven't been too lucky with women lately." This wasn't a complete fabrication, though it had been some time since that night with Melissa. Then again, that night only went so far. Hmmm, maybe I wasn't so far from the truth after all.

Kathy seemed to react to my statement, moving a little closer and feigning (I hoped) an interest in the data on the screen.

"That's too bad." She paused. "Are you doing anything tonight after work?"

I was surprised that she took the hint so quickly and I blushed. I can't remember what I said, but I think it was something stupid. Something on the order of "Only if it's with you." After a comment like that it's amazing to me that we ended up at the Olive Garden together an hour later.

Kathy and I talked until they closed. We discussed everything -- school, religion, politics, her career goals, my music -- even sex. That topic lasted until the end of the evening. I found out that she hadn't had a decent relationship in months either and would burst if she couldn't find a guy. She didn't seem very shy about discussing her sex life, but she didn't go into details like what positions she liked or whether or not she swallowed either. She liked snuggling and long, quiet evenings with her lovers. She didn't always have to make love right away either, as she had the patience to snuggle all night and take her lover in the morning. It was becoming obvious to me that this was a woman guided, not by her lust but, by her desire for love. She was a sensualist who knew the benefits of a long, drawn out night of soft kisses, tender caresses, and slow, methodical intimacy. So I wasn't surprised when she said she preferred passive, gentle lovemaking to heavy, aggressive "bed shaking", as she put it. I was definitely intrigued.

They threw us out of the restaurant around eleven, so I drove her back to campus. When I pulled up in front of her dorm, she smiled at me.

"Thanks for taking me out. I really had a good time."

She reached out and touched my cheek. I took her hand and pulled it to my side, forcing her to lean toward me. Our eyes were locked until she felt my hand on the back of her neck, then she closed them and lightly parted her mouth. I closed my eyes and moved my mouth toward hers. I felt a swell of warmth flow over me as I felt her plump, soft lips touch mine. I had to adjust my position because the seatbelt was still fastened and I couldn't press against her any further without choking myself. I broke the kiss and unhooked the belt. I looked into her eyes again and she leaned into my chest, snuggling her head against me. I bent my head down and kissed her cheek as I ran my fingers through her soft hair. There was a pause that went on for seconds and it seemed like neither of us was going to say anything.

"I really liked that...Kathy," I finally mustered the energy to say, still stroking her head. "Umm hmm." (I was choked, I had to clear my throat.) "Can I kiss you again?" I asked, my voice shaking.

She didn't respond verbally, but tilted her head back and offered me her mouth. I kissed her warmly and, as I remembered to do, gently. I made no quick movements, though I had this urge to press her back into the seat and tear open her shirt. Maybe Kathy could teach me to channel my desire into something more sensual and less aggressive.

We finally broke the kiss and held each other for several minutes, talking about things in general. She finally saw that it was near midnight and said she had a psych class at eight in the morning. She opened the car door.

"I'll drop you a note on the computer. Maybe we can get together again." She started to leave, then stopped and added, "You can cook some Chinese for me."

I smiled. "Deal," I said.

Kathy slammed the door shut and I watched her walk away, staring at her beautiful behind and thinking about how wonderful the evening had been. She turned around quickly and waved me on, but I waited until she was inside the building before I drove off. Something inside me, something more than just common courtesy, wanted to make sure she was safe, and I wondered what was happening to my life. I wondered if Kathy was destined to mean more to me than what Melissa had meant. Melissa, despite all I had felt for her, didn't work out. I had wanted her in my life, but guilt over losing her virginity drove her away. I never did see her again. Now there was Kathy. A simple and inauspicious beginning, perhaps, but my heart was already thinking of the future. Thinking a lot...

I received a computer message from Kathy three days later. When I didn't hear from her right away I became concerned that she might have had second thoughts because of my looks (not many women want to date a guy who is on the heavy side), but I was obviously wrong -- she was definitely impressed with me. I had her over that Friday and cooked up a batch of General Tso's Chicken and my special Thai Spring Rolls, which she loved. Things got even better from there.

We went out quite often and spent our time talking about everything, including how much we liked being with each other. We found ourselves talking to each other a lot -- on the phone, over the computer, in the halls -- though she told me she didn't want to bother me at the lab after what my supervisor said. I understood, but assured her she shouldn't not come to me if she needed help or just to say hello. I really just wanted to see her at every opportunity.

What surprised me was the fact that our physical relationship was pretty much limited to what we had done that first night. We would often hold each other for hours at a time, gently kissing and caressing. One night was spent sleeping in each other's arms in my recliner (my back nearly killed me, but what price love?). I shocked myself with stoic restraint, curbing my urge to take things further. Maybe I had learned my lesson with Melissa.

One night, about a month after we had started going out, I found her waiting outside the lab when I was leaving. She waited patiently for me to close the door. She grinned because she knew what was about to happen, though I was oblivious. She was so sexy that night. She even seemed to walk seductively, her ass moving gently side to side as she walked away from me. I followed, of course. We walked across the parking lots to Lafayette Hall, through the complex, and then on to her building. The whole time I was curious about what she was doing. She punched the button for the elevator and the doors opened almost instantly. She walked in and I had to follow. When the doors closed, she slid her arms around me and looked up into my eyes. Gently I bent my head down and touched my lips to hers. Her mouth was soft and sweet. God I felt so warm. It was only a few seconds before she opened her mouth and slid the tip of her tongue in. I was shaking from being so nervous, but Kathy's gentle French kiss seemed to calm me some. I started to raise my hand toward her breast, something I hadn't done with her before, but stopped when the elevator door began to open.

Kathy led me to the stairs, down two flights, and then down the hall to her room, then unlocked the door and ushered me in. The room was dark, except for one small lamp on her desk. I felt her hands on my shoulders as she slowly turned me around, then we continued our kiss from the elevator. Her tongue, a little less gentle this time, seemed to desire more from me than before. I slid my tongue into her mouth and she moaned from the pleasure. She exerted a little pressure on me and I went back onto her bed. She kicked off her shoes and knelt beside me, then positioned herself so she was straddling me, her crotch rubbing firmly against mine. This seemed unusually aggressive for Kathy, but I wasn't going to argue with her.

She took my hands and began to kiss them. She ran my fingers over her face and neck, then on down to her bust. I wasn't sure how far she wanted me to go, so I began to rub the sides of her breasts through the fabric of her shirt and bra. She arched her back a little, seeming to enjoy my caresses. I took a chance and began to unbutton her blouse, my fingers trembling intensely. She grabbed my hands and pushed the down to my chest. I figured that I had gone too far, but then she continued to unbutton her blouse for me. When she finished, she pulled the rest of the blouse out of her pants and then pulled the top off altogether. She was wearing a frosted white-lace bra, which pleasantly exposed the upper parts of her breasts. I gently reached up with my hand and began to trace a line from her cheek, down her chin and her neck, then down her bra strap, over the edge of her bra cup, and finally to the point where her cups met. I then slowly spread my hand out over her left breast and began to massage it softly through the lacy white cloth of her underwear. Kathy moaned softly as I began to stroke her nipple to erection. Then I began to cup her other breast with my other hand.

Kathy sat up, rubbing her crotch harder against my erection, which was now firm in my pants. My hands were stretched out over both of her breasts. I tried lifting up on the bottom of her bra, in an attempt to pull it up. She reached around behind her back and unhooked it for me, then let it fall away in my hands. I dropped the bra somewhere on the floor as I looked at her full, soft breasts. Creamy white, unblemished, and firm, with perfect erect nipples. All thoughts about her not taking me seriously were dispelled when I realized that I was doing this to her. I was causing her to be excited. Despite the number of relationships I had had, part of me still thought no one could really ever be turned on by me, but I was finally beginning to believe in myself.

Kathy bent over a little, her beautiful breasts wavering only inches from my mouth. I instinctively licked my lips, then placed my mouth softly over her right nipple and areola. My lover gasped lightly as I took it into my mouth. She placed her hand on the back of my head, holding my mouth against her bosom. Meanwhile, she continued to rub her crotch against the bulge in my pants. I knew she had to be so excited that she was getting very wet between her legs; her clitoris swollen from rubbing against my erection.

As I suckled liked an infant, my right hand moved slowly from her other breast toward her pants. I moved it gently over the soft bulge between her legs. I pressed a little harder, which solicited a gasp from Kathy's mouth, then I pulled my hand back and slid it into her pants, but over the silky softness of her panties. I could feel the soft hairs of her mound underneath, begging to be touched, and the heavy wetness of her excitement. I stroked her for many minutes, at the same time switching my mouth back and forth between her breasts. Finally, I pulled my hand back and slid it into her underwear. Her mound of silky hairs was slippery wet against my fingers. I wanted to go further, but I had probably taken it too far already.

"Oh God," she moaned in a whisper. "Please...Pat. More."

Kathy's begging pushed me along. I began to caress the outline of her lips, stroking the outside of her labia until they blossomed. I worked my fingers slowly back and forth into her vagina, each time penetrating deeper. I did this for several minutes, feeling the smoothness of her vaginal wall and listening to her moan about my attentions to her genitals. She began to lightly grind herself against my hand and body.

"Uhhn...ohhhh. Pat...I want you to see me. Take off my pants, please."

I pulled my hand away from her mound as Kathy arched her back, allowing me to undo her pants. She then twisted around on the bed, lay on her back, lifted her behind and, with my help, slipped out of the remainder of her clothes (except her socks, which we both found incredibly sexy). She lay facing me, naked and smiling. Her hand gently touched the soft curls of brown hair at the top of her mound. She was very beautiful down there, with her thick hair and tender, well-formed labia. I could also see her inner labia, having opened from the gently caressing my fingers had given her. I watched as she slid her third and fourth fingers down over her mound and pulled them back up between her lips. She was looking down at herself, moaning softly. As her wet fingers moved around her clitoris, she looked back up at me, closing her eyes in pleasure. Pleasure that she wanted me to give her.

I smiled back and leaned over to kiss her softly. I moved slowly and nuzzled her breasts for a while before continuing my downward journey. As I got closer to her mound, she began to feel hot and prickly. My mouth slipped past her navel and began to kiss the top part of her soft, brown pubic triangle. She spread her legs slowly as my mouth moved down over her wet mound of Venus. The tip of my tongue slid down partway into the cleft of her labia at the top. She shuddered as it darted around her clitoris. I wrapped my arms under and then over her thighs, which helped her hold her legs apart. I slid my tongue down all the way to her inner labia, then gently into her vagina. My lips came to press fully against her genitals, my tongue at least two inches inside of her. Kathy was slowly rolling her hips and ass, as well as arching her back and head, as she moaned my name softly. I didn't make any sudden or deliberate movements; nothing to disturb the gentleness with which I was giving her pleasure.

As Kathy ran her fingers over my head, holding it between her legs, I pulled a hand back and slid one finger deep into her vagina. I pulled it out a few seconds later and slowly, but in time to my licking, began to move that finger back and forth into her anus. Kathy felt electricity shoot up her spine as I touched this forbidden part of her anatomy. After a short time, my finger was all the way up inside her rectum, moving in time to the massaging movements of my tongue and mouth on her genitals. I did this all slowly and gently over several minutes but, nevertheless, she felt the pressure of orgasm building within her loins. Slowly she rocked her hips, keeping her actions as tender as possible. It was building...building...BUILDING!!

"Oh, oh, please..." she cried, softly. "Oh, oh, yes..." She fell into a short sleep. While she rested I removed my shirt, then lay back and pulled her bare breasts gently against me. She kissed me again and again, but then rested again.

We lay together, letting our passions cool. She had her head on my chest and was gently stroking my erection through my pants. Over the course of the next hour, interspersed with kisses and the gentle suckling of my nipples, she unbuttoned my slacks and slid down the zipper. She seemed to be getting her energy back, so I lifted my hips and she pulled my pants off. The very noticeable bulge in my underwear excited her. She rubbed the cotton cloth of my briefs for a few minutes before she reached her fingers under the elastic and pulled them down past my socked feet, then tossed them onto our mutual clothes pile. She looked back to my groin, staring at my fully erect phallus. To this day I don't know what she was thinking about at that moment.

Kathy lay beside me. I began to suckle her breast as she wrapped her hand around the length of my penis and started to stroke it back and forth. She pulled her breast away from my mouth as she moved hers down, kissing my chest, then on toward my erection. When she arrived I felt her begin to stroke my pubic hair with her fingers. Then I felt them on my testicles. Her tongue gently flicked my scrotum just before she planted several kisses on my penis. I watched as she kissed slowly up the underside of the shaft of my organ. Suddenly, but gently she took it into her mouth. I felt such a warmth surround the head of my phallus that I almost ejaculated immediately, but I was able to manage a little bit of control. Then she stopped sucking me and wrapped her hand around the base of my penis, squeezing lightly. My head became swollen and this time she took it all the way into her throat.

"Uh...ohhh, Kathy...ohhhh. Honey...ohhh...that feels so wonderful," I moaned softly to her. She craved this tender attention. To her it was love, not lust. That's how she thought of things.

She moved her mouth up and down on my erection. She began to quicken the pace, but not enough to disrupt our promise of gentle lovemaking. I was tightening my hip, buttock, and thigh muscles as she sucked on me. My breathing was becoming more rapid. I felt the whole world begin to dissolve.

"Kathy...I'm...I'm going to...oh!" I called tenderly. It was too late, I began to come. My hips and thighs shook as the semen rose in my genitals and my prostate gland tightened. I felt a flood of warmth rise in my testicles and penis. Then I was throbbing. Kathy let my organ slip out of her mouth as the first wave came...a hot white gush of sperm ejaculated onto her cheek before she could get it back in her mouth, then she began sucking deeply. Five more bursts squirted from my erection before my supply was depleted, though it continued to throb several more times. She swallowed all that came into her mouth, ignorant of everything but the passion my climax made her feel.

"Oh Kathy..." I sighed.

She climbed up, wrapping herself around me, and caressed me, stroking my face. She placed several tender kisses on my face, occasionally on my nose, then pressed her plump lips against my mouth. Her breasts were firm against my chest and I could feel their intense heat flowing through my body. My right arm was around her shoulders and my hand was holding her head as we kissed. My other arm was down around her waist, with my hand gently caressing the valley between her buttocks. She moaned as I stroked down around her anus and pushed my tongue back into her mouth. I could feel her mound rubbing against the tip of my penis as we continued to press against each other. I could have just nudged her on her back and...oh God, I just wanted to slide right inside her.

She finally broke the kiss and I rolled onto my back. She lay her head on my chest and I pulled the comforter out from behind me, throwing it over our bodies. As we drifted off I swore I heard her say, "I knew you were someone special."

* * * * *

It must have been two or three in the morning when I woke up. The first thing that occurred to me was that it was well past the dorm curfew for visitors, even on a weekend. The next thing I noticed was that Kathy's body wasn't there keeping me warm. I fumbled for my glasses and looked across the darkened room (she must have turned out the desk lamp while I was asleep). As my eyes adjusted to the light coming in from the cloudless sky outside, I could see Kathy's naked silhouette as she stood in the window. I threw back the blanket and tumbled out of the bed. She must have known I was there because she didn't flinch as I slipped my arms around her from behind. I held Kathy just below her breasts and her arms wrapped over mine. I kissed her on the nape of her neck and she sighed.




Desire



"Isn't it beautiful out there?" she asked.

I looked out the window and saw the stars and the moon as they shone over the campus. The glow from the lights of Muncie provided just enough light for me to see the reflection of Kathy's nude form in the window. I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

"I think it's even more beautiful in here."

She turned away from the window and faced me, pressing her body against mine as we embraced. I could feel her breasts warming up against my chest and her abdomen rubbing against my flaccid penis. I looked into her green eyes.

"Kathy?" I asked, my voice rough.

"Yes?"

I paused, considering what I was about to ask her. "Do you want to make love with me?"

Her eyes flickered for a second. "Yes..." she whispered and pressed her lips softly against mine. My penis began to grow against her body and her nipples grew firm against mine. She pulled away and took my hand, leading me back to the bed. I sat down and rolled under the covers. She lay next to me and pulled the heavy winter comforter over us. We embraced again and kissed passionately for many minutes. My hand gently caressed her arm and moved over her back, down to her behind, around the front to her mound, and on up to her breasts. She turned slightly, still facing me, and pressed her body against me again. I could feel the head of my penis as it slipped down against her mound. Her legs moved apart slowly and my erection moved a little ways into her. Then we looked into each other's eyes and smiled.

"Just a minute," she said. Her hand reached up onto the night stand and grabbed something, slipping it underneath the blanket before I could see what it was.

We began to kiss again, but this time Kathy reached down and started to stroke my penis. I could feel her slipping something cold against the head of my erection. Then I realized she was unrolling a condom over it. She rolled it completely down to the base of my penis, then slid her fingers up to the tip to make sure there was enough space left for my semen to come into. She guided it back toward her mound and I lightly pressed it into her as we lay on our sides. I could feel how warm and open she was. I nudged her and she rolled slowly onto her back with me riding her. She held onto the blanket as we turned, keeping us completely covered. I began to probe her pubic hair, guiding myself downward again. I found her labia and my erection seemed to naturally slip into her vagina. Kathy sprawled herself out as I slid my hands under and over her shoulders to hold more firmly onto her. I slowly pushed myself into her mound, stopping every so often to pull back and then thrust deeper into her again. Soon I was moving slowly but rhythmically, back and forth inside of her. She could feel me pressing closer and closer to the mouth of her uterus. Her hips and buttocks began to move up against me.

"Ohhhh....Pat," she moaned in my ear, caressing my back with her hands.

"Kathy...you're so wonderful," I answered back.

Our mouths were locked in a passionate kiss, her tongue darting in and around my mouth. My chest was pressing against her breasts, flattening them against her chest. The only space between our bodies was where I was slowly pulling back to thrust again into her mound with my erect phallus. The longer we made love, the closer I got to touching her cervix, I was so incredibly deep inside her. The condom was ultra thin, bless her heart, so I could experience all the pleasures of our intimacy. She continued to roll her hips slowly against me whenever I would thrust into her. Finally, one time, I struck her cervix lightly and she gasped in pleasure. She felt another powerful orgasm coming on...

I tried to imagine what the scene must look from behind. My testicles hitting the lower part of her mound as I would thrust in. When I would pull out, my penis would be wet as it extended away from my scrotum into her genitals. The chocolate hairs of her mons had to be completely matted with lubricant by now. Below our passionate sexual embrace, her anus would be glistening with the dripping moisture of her mound. Above it, my perineum would blend away into my anus, partly shielded by my quivering buttocks. The thrusting of our intercourse making them shake with the passion of my thrusts. Our moment was building...

Kathy was about to achieve her plateau. Her pelvis screamed for release as I was hitting her cervix frequently. Her legs wrapped tightly around me and she began to squeeze my body with them, rolling her hips and buttocks up against me.

"Oh, God!" She cried as quietly as possible. "Pat! Pat! Oh please...yes...ohhhh."

I could feel her vagina begin contracting around my penis. Her tightening body and passionate words made me need to thrust only a few more times.

"Oh, Kathy...Kathy!" Again, hoarse whispers of passion as I reached my second orgasm of the night. Hot semen gushed from the tip of my urethra into the reservoir tip of the condom. I felt pulse after pulse racing through my loins as the liquid left my body.

"Patrick... oh, I love you," she moaned to me.

I continued thrusting as the last few drops of my passion spurted into the condom. I then slowly lay myself against her, where I held her in a long, deep kiss. I don't remember how long I lay inside her -- a couple of minutes, maybe -- then I withdrew my penis from her mound and lay gently at her side.

I was exhausted and drifting off to sleep again, but I remember Kathy laying her head against my chest. I ran my fingers through her hair, over her forehead, and down to her cheek. She took my hand and kissed it, then I tilted my head up and kissed the top of her head.

"I love you too, Kathy," I said and lay my head back, looking out the window at the moon as it hung high over campus.

Kathy and I saw each other for a long time. Our relationship was very much like the one I had with Monica, though Kathy was more certain about her feelings for me. Yet, it was strange. I had a feeling all along that it would never go beyond the sensual desire we had for one another. I truly did love Kathy and I still believe she loved me, but I think we both knew there wasn't a lifetime plan in the future for us. The following summer we went our separate ways, though we parted as good friends. I saw her off and on after she came back, but we never made love again. By that time I had become involved in a new relationship and Kathy didn't want to cause any trouble with my new S.O. Besides, they were becoming good friends and that, at least, would allow Kathy to be a part of my life for a little while longer. 

END



Desire



Disclaimer: The character of Ardeth Bay belongs to Stephen Sommers and Universal Studios. No infringement intended. All other characters owned by the author.

Author Notes: This story is based on the character Ardeth Bay, played by Oded Fehr, from the movies The Mummy and The Mummy Returns. It takes place after The Mummy but years before The Mummy Returns. Feedback welcomed.





Desire



Angelina whimpered at the acute sense of loss when Ardeth released her mouth, turning her head restlessly, trying to recapture his lips. But he wouldn't be deterred; the rougher scrape of his goatee was a stark contrast to the warm velvet softness of his lips as Ardeth slid his mouth hotly down the long column of her throat to nuzzle the hollow at the base of her neck. His hands, warm and sure, stroked her flesh with delicious knowledge, his touch making her quiver and sigh in heated pleasure - she felt fevered; her breath coming in gasps, and she wanted to feel his hands all over her. She drew in a ragged breath as he cupped her breasts, rubbing the rough pads of his thumbs across tightly puckered nipples, and she moaned aloud at the pure heat that surged through her. 

Their legs tangled, and one hard-muscled leg slid between hers. His muscled thigh was hard and hairy and enticing, riding up along the delicate skin of her inner thigh, coming to rest against the vulnerable, feminine mound between her legs. He pressed against her, gently, lazily, rubbing her with his thigh. Moaning, her hips lifting to meet him, Angelina knew she was dampening him with her eager response; and she knew that he was highly aroused by it - she could feel it in the heightening tension of his body, in the way his lips hotly closed over a turgid nipple, making her dig her fingers in the hard muscles of his shoulders and arch her chest into his mouth. She cried out in pleasure and need as he suckled her hard, his hands stroking all over her body, the hungry, passionate tenderness of his touch making her shiver.

She could feel the entire length of his lean, muscular body along the side of hers, almost on top of her. His heat seared her skin, warming her until she felt like she was burning up, his hands and mouth driving her mad. She marveled at his self control; she could sense the lust coursing through him, feel the need gathering inside him like a storm; the proof of it was throbbing thick and hard and hot against her hip, pulsing with a life of its own, and she ached to feel him thrust inside her, quenching this terrible burning deep inside her with his passion.

Burning with the need to touch him, Angelina slid her arms around his bare back, running the tips of her fingers down the groove of his spine, reveling in the feel of strong muscles under her palms, and the way they tightened under her touch. His skin was hot and smooth to the touch and - knowing with feminine instinct that Ardeth's self control would not extend to allow it now, or her own for that matter - she resolved that later, before the night was over, she would learn its textures not only with her hands but with her mouth as well.

Triumphant lust pounded through him with heavy demand, glorying in the fact that he had same effect on Angelina as she had on him; the proof of it in the way she was moving wantonly, urgently, against him, her back arching and hips lifting, her hands and lips gliding restlessly, urgently, over his fevered skin leaving streaks of fire in their wake. He could feel the damp proof of her desire on his thigh where it pressed and rubbed the plump cushion of flesh at the juncture of her thighs. Her passion was a brand, searing his flesh, and it was all he could do not to tug her beneath him and plunge deep inside her, to find blessed relief for his throbbing erection; he was hanging on to his self control by a thin thread, and it was getting thinner by each passing second.

She traced the contours of his tight rounded buttocks, forming her palms to the round firmness of his flesh, delighting in the hot feel of him. Ardeth's body arched, pressing hard against her own fevered skin as she fondled and knead the firm flesh and eliciting a deep, male groan from Ardeth that she felt, rather than heard, in the gush of warm moist air against a turgid nipple as his tongue curled hotly around it, chafing the swollen tissue and sending arrows of electricity straight to her groin and making her arch and cry out in pure need. Liquid heat pooled between her legs and she squirmed, rubbing and rubbing herself against the thigh he was pressing so enticingly against her and clutching at him with frantic fingers.

Blood roared in his ears, drowning out her cry. She moved against him wantonly, maddeningly; her legs opening and closing and her hands clutching at his ass and thigh in an effort to ease the burning within. An overwhelming surge of pure lust exploded in his body, obliterating all but the most tenuous of control he still had on himself. His engorged manhood throbbed in nearly painful erection, and he half groaned, half growled in the grips of the commanding need - he wanted her, needed to bury himself inside her - now. He would go mad, if he did not; every cell of his being was screaming at him; he had never before wanted anything or anyone as he wanted her. 

"Angelina," he muttered, his voice husky and raw, almost guttural, his breath rasping as it left his chest, and he clasped her hip with bruising force, welding her against his thigh for a moment. Then suddenly, his thigh was gone from her body, and she cried out at the acute sense of loss, instinctively surging towards him, but the cry turned into a breathless moan as he mounted her, bracing his weight on one bulging forearm. She spread her thighs wider and felt the eager dampness between them even as he fitted his lean hips snugly into the soft hollow of her loins, urging her legs further apart, making a place for himself there. She panted with the pleasure of feeling his heavy weight on top of her, pinning her to the mattress; the tightly leashed strength of his taut muscles and the heat of his body combining to envelop her in a cocoon of exhilarating sense of desire, and danger, and surprisingly, utter safety. She loved his roughness, the wild savagery of his hunger; it reached into some deep inner place - a sensual, sexual well that had never been really explored - she had always known existed within her but had never been able to tap into before, and she knew with every fiber of her being that one night with him would not be enough for her, not even close.

Ardeth grimly hung onto what tatters of sanity he had left. The feel of her soft, feminine body underneath his own hard muscled form was a heavenly torment as he stubbornly fought against his body's imperative, primal urge to plunge into her receptive body immediately, unceremoniously, to end this terrible gnawing need inside him, and in the taking, make her his, for ever. Sucking in deep gulps of air to maintain a measure of control and shifting his weight to one side, he stroked his hand down the smooth, taut expanse of her abdomen to comb his fingers through the tightly curled dark hair at the apex of her thighs, urging her thighs further apart to admit his exploration. Strung on the tight wire of anticipation, she eagerly complied; he ran his fingers along the secret, tender folds, feeling the slickness, the exquisite softness. He gently squeezed and stroked her, drawing an intricate design on her heated flesh until she moaned and writhed, breathless with desire. Only then he dipped one long finger boldly into the slit, opening her, probing with unerring skill, and pushed deep up into her body, feeling her hot, slick sheath stretch to accommodate him. He heard her breath snag, and her arms came up to twine around his neck.

"You are very tight," it sounded like exultation and a curse at the same time. Angelina could barely hear his voice through the roaring in her ears, and then it took a few moments for her lust-addled brain to translate what he had said for he had spoken in his native Arabic. His probing finger felt very big and rough, rasping at the delicate inner flesh of her sheath, and the pleasure was so acute it was almost painful.

Her inner muscles contracted gently, adjusting, caressing the intruder, and Ardeth's entire body shivered a heated response. She was tight about his finger, damned tight, and he felt ready to explode from just imagining the hot, moist, intimate clasp of her body around his burgeoning manhood. Swallowing hard, he withdrew his finger and thrust again, eliciting a little, breathless cry of pleasure from her; he liked that so much he did it again, and again, her breathless cries reverberating all along his nerve endings. 

Gently but swiftly he withdrew his finger from her body and saw her passion glazed eyes widen as he quickly sucked his finger clean, briefly pausing to savor the sweet, spicy taste of her nectar. He felt his own eyes widen as she gripped his wrist, and she stared at him with wide eyes, she opened her mouth but no sound came out, and she tried again. 

"I... you... do you like how I taste?" her husky, breathless voice was curious, her tone both hopeful and embarrassed.

Ardeth paused. "I love how you taste... all over." His voice was purposely soft and husky on the last words. His hand covered the soft feminine mound at the apex of his thighs, and he saw her close her eyes briefly and she swallowed. Then her hand covered his hand.

"Then would you kiss me... all over?" Her voice was as soft and husky as his, her eyes and tone of voice, and the hand covering his at the juncture of her thighs conveying exactly where she wanted to be kissed. A flush slowly spread from her face down her neck; and Ardeth had a sudden insight to why she was reacting the way she was when otherwise she had been as eager and brazen as he.

"Have you not been kissed in this manner before?" He found it incredible; what man would not want to pleasure his wife in this way, in everyway? But her firm shake of her head confirmed his suspicion.

"Good." Intense satisfaction and possessive male intent was evident in his voice and hot in his eyes, and for a moment his hand cupped her possessively, sending arrows of sensation shooting through her heated flesh. "I will kiss you, in this way and any other way you desire. But not right now." 

"Promise?" Her voice was little more than a breathless whisper of anticipation.

"Promise."

Angelina started to say something but she promptly forgot it when Ardeth propped himself over her on his elbows, the muscles of his biceps and shoulders flexing as he took the weight. Her heart jumped wildly, banging against her ribs. The velvety head of his shaft nudged at her soft folds, sliding over the slick, yearning flesh, seeking the entrance to her body. He found it, and the muscles of his hips bunched as he drove forward, pushing inside her. Angelina's eyes widened, and her fingers dug hard into his shoulder muscles as she cried out, ambushed by the burning pressure between her legs that boarded on real pain as he slowly, inexorably, drove himself deeper into her tight body.  

It wasn't easy, despite her arousal, despite the dampness that readied her for him, and Ardeth grunted at the difficulty of penetration, his entire body taut and straining. His entire being was focused on the masculine goal of penetrating her, and he rocked his hips back and forth, slight movements that coaxed her taut inner muscles to relax, allowing the next forward rock to slide him deeper into the hot, wet, incredibly tight clasp of her body. 

At last he was in her to the hilt, seated deep, and he groaned at the perfect, hot gloving of her body as she softly pulsed around throbbing shaft, adjusting. He could feel the quivering tension in her body as she moaned and shuddered in his arms, her eyes tightly closed, and he himself shuddered at the reality of the hot gloving of her body around his burgeoning manhood; at the exquisite torture of finally being embedded deeply inside her. Sweat popped on his forehead, breath burned in his lungs and he felt like he might explode, might spill his seed from just this. 

Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, he waged a ruthless war with himself, harnessing in the urgent, primal clamor of his body to draw back from her tight sheath, and plunge right back in, time and again; she wasn't ready for that, not yet, the discomfort he had caused her with his entry still quivering in her muscles. Aware that he would not last for much longer he framed her face with his large hands and began kissing her eyelids, cheeks, ears, lips, all the while crooning to her, using touch and voice to sooth and calm and reassure her. The reward of his efforts was the way she softened about him and beneath him, her breath calming and becoming deeper, the hard pressure of her fingers digging into his shoulder muscles easing.

Angelina reeled under the onslaught of sensation; he was thick, and hot, and so hard that she felt bruised from the inexorable advance of his shaft into her. But there was also fierce, hot delight in the intimate, perfect embrace of their bodies, as he lay immobile deep inside her, strong and powerful, pulsing with life. She felt herself stretching around his thick length, softening, adjusting to his girth, and closing her eyes even tighter, she gasped for breath, her senses reeling with the sensation of being penetrated, filled at last. Ardeth was possessing her, fulfilling her in a way she had never imagined possible, and she welcomed it, reveled in the perfection of it. 

He was showering her face and neck with light kisses, his hands stroking down the sides of her body simultaneously soothing and arousing her flesh, and all the while he murmured to her in a low, rugged voice; sweet words, hot words, words that she didn't have a prayer of translating for he was speaking in his native Arabic, and her brain could barely function, but it was all right - the fierce tenderness of his tone was all she needed. The short hairs of his beard tickled the tops of her breasts and she shivered as much from that than from the warm velvet of his voice washing over her skin. Momentarily subdued by the burning discomfort of his entry, the raw need returned abruptly, overwhelmingly, as the burning discomfort of his entry began to ease and the ease transform into a burning of another kind.

A guttural groan rumbling up from deep within Ardeth's chest made Angelina open her eyes even as she felt his entire body fairly vibrating with unleashed tension. His skin was flushed and pulled taut across his cheekbones, the tattoos standing in stark relief against the smooth dark caramel of his skin. Tension emanated from him in waves, every muscle of his body taut with lust barely held in check. His eyes were hot and dark as they raked every inch of her naked body visible to him. Then he looked back up at her, eyes glittering with the intensity of his desire, and something else; something she couldn't quite decipher but that was so utterly hot and male that she couldn't control the instinctive, heady, automatic response of her body, her breath catching and pulses leaping. Her sheath tightened about his deeply embedded manhood, subtly caressing the thick intruder as she quivered and melted under his gaze. Ardeth stiffened and held himself rigid over her for a tense moment, his muscles trembling as he fought to control himself, still mindful of her comfort. But she saw the terrible need in his eyes and she knew, she knew.

"Take me, Ardeth. I want you. I need you - I need you now." Her voice was breathless and husky from her own want and need as she gave him leave of the tight, ruthless restrain he had put on himself. His eyes bore into hers even as another guttural groan rumbled up from his chest, and hearing her words was abruptly too much. Heat surged through his entire body in an ungovernable rush, and his hard-won control splintered. A rough sound burst from his throat and he began thrusting with heavy power, slowly, relentlessly driving in and out of her, groaning at the loss each time he pulled from her wet, clinging sheath, growling in pure, lustful pleasure as he pushed back into her; the incredibly tight internal clasp of her body sheathing his hard, throbbing member until he thought he would go insane with the need, with the pleasure, with the way she was responding to his every move as she eagerly took his passion and lust and need, and gifted him tenfold with her own in return, back arching, hips lifting, hot little cries breaking from her lips.

His first thrust had made her catch her breath at the harsh burning sensation. By the second thrust she was panting with the onslaught of desire. By the third thrust she was as mindless as he, clutching at his shoulders and crying out breathlessly; never taking her eyes of his, spellbound by their hot depths. She raised her knees and braced her feet on the bed, eagerly arching, lifting her trembling hips to receive another thrust, the impact shaking her entire body, and she fleetingly marveled that the immense strength of his muscular body could be used so deliciously to countermand her own strength, giving them both such intense pleasure. Every time he plunged into her she felt the hot smooth length of his thick, hot, pulsing shaft slide up and up within her until he was sheathed inside her to the hilt; impossibly deep and hard and hot inside her, searing her sensitive flesh, and she wanted to scream with the incredible, perfect pleasure of it. Each time he withdrew she felt his girth; dragging exquisitely along the nerve-endings in her tight slick sheath, and she clamped down hard on him in frantic pleasure, sobbing at the ever tightening spiral of tension his every move built inside her. She was burning, glowing, strung on a tight wire of such intense need clamoring for release that she hurt with it. Air burning in her lungs, blind to everything but the man whose heavy weight crushed her to the bed and whose hard rod of male flesh moved relentlessly, achingly, blissfully, deep inside her. She raked her blunt nails down his back to cup his laboring buttocks, imploring him with her eyes, scarcely aware that husky, disjointed words of need were falling from her lips.

Ardeth was so close to the edge that he felt the feathery sensation along his spine, but he desperately resisted it. She was close to her culmination, and he wanted - needed - to entice her to that satisfying explosion first; wanted to watch her come apart in his arms, needed to feel it. Shifting his weight to one elbow, he reached down between their bodies to stroke the tightly stretched entrance, her flesh so sensitive that she gasped as the touch jolted through her like lightning. Then he moved his attention to the little sexual nub that was the center of her pleasure, rubbing his fingertip back and forth across it, feeling her instantaneous response.

The fierce, rapidly increasing sensation gave her no mercy, and he gave her no mercy, not even when she bucked under his touch to escape the intensity. It burned her, melted her, and he rode her harder, deeper, thrusting with heavy power. The friction was almost unbearable, but he was touching her deep inside in such a way that she cried out in agonized pleasure, helplessly clinging to him as it grew stronger and stronger. When it finally shattered, she arched wildly against him, her body shuddering as her hips undulated, working herself on his invading shaft. Submerged in the throes of ecstasy, she only dimly heard her own wild cry as she dissolved in a huge explosion of senses, white-hot pleasure flooding her.

Freed from his constrains by her climax, Ardeth surrendered to the hot, wet, silken gloving of her body, the incredibly exquisite joining of their bodies. He pushed his hands underneath her and gripped her buttocks, hard, pistoning back and forth between her wide spread, straining thighs, slamming into her again and again, all thought now gone save for the primal need for release, to possess her, make her his. She was still with him, pacing him, and the rhythmic pulsing of her slick silken clinging sheath on his plunging shaft propelled him to the edge with dizzying speed. He arched over her powerfully, plunging into her again and again; harsh, helpless groans rumbling up from deep within his chest as he shook and pulsed with the nearing ecstasy, convulsively thrusting, slamming into her. He felt himself growing even harder and bigger inside her and then, with a husky shout, he exploded deep within her, flooding her with his seed, claiming her, marking her his. 




Desire



Mindless with pleasure, groaning under onslaught of rapture almost too sharp to bear, he bucked heavily into her, riding wave after wave of pure sensation, until at last he slowly, heavily sank down on her, trembling and sweating, his heart pounding in his chest against her breast, and his breath catching on occasional small groans at the last small twitches of his climax.

He was so heavy he was crushing her but Angelina didn't mind; cherishing the closeness, the reality. His head rested on the pillow next to her, his face towards her, eyes closed, and she could feel his warm breath fanning the skin of her neck as their madly pounding hearts quieted to a more normal rhythm. She threaded her fingers through his hair in a tender caress before letting her hand fall limply on the bed; her body so heavy and weak with the surfeit of pleasure still pulsing through it that even that small move required more energy than she could muster. He was still embedded deeply inside her, as loath to separate of their bodies as she was, and lulled by the silence of aftermath, the steady beat of his heart against her breast, she lapsed into a doze, barely aware of when Ardeth finally stirred and carefully separated their bodies. He left the bed for a moment, and came back with a basin of water and a washing cloth, efficiently cleaning them both up before moving to lie beside her, drawing the sheets over both of them. She turned instinctively into his arms, seeking his body heat, and sighed in contentment as she felt his arms close around her. Her head settled into the hollow of his shoulder, and her arm rested on his chest, idly tracing the tattoo over his heart before lapsing back into sleep.

Ardeth was stunned, rocked to his core by the intensity of what had just occurred between them. Women had always come easily to him, and he had no qualms about availing himself of what was freely offered. Sex was a pleasure; sometimes gentle and playful, sometimes raunchy and intense - a persistent appetite, yes, but ultimately easily satisfied. He chose as his lovers experienced, unattached women who had their own lives and interests, and sought no more from him than he was willing to give; they rarely occupied his mind once he left their bed. He'd had a few lengthier affairs, born out of mix of mutual passion, affection, respect and companionship, but even those relationships had been by no means non-exclusive either on his, or the lady's side. Only one woman had held his interest above others but even so, he had thought that once he had her in his bed, he would be free of the persistent lust that refused to be slaked on the bodies of other women. He had not expected to get emotionally involved, not to this extent.

Nothing he had experienced with other women had prepared him for the emotional upheaval that making love with Angelina had thrown him the middle of. No woman had ever roused his lust as profoundly as she, the need for her both emotional and physical. What he had just shared with her was as powerful and unstoppable as a desert storm, indelibly imprinted in his body as well as his mind; a fire that had left him scorched and already thirsting to feel the flame again. He wanted her in his life, and he wanted to be important to her. For the first time in his life, Ardeth felt possessive over a woman - just the thought of Angelina wanting another man over him tied his gut in knots with jealousy. Although he had not felt that way when she had been married - merely mildly envious of her husband, and he had shrugged it off easily.

Four years ago, when he had first met Angelina, she had been out of his reach as the wife of one of their Cairo based healers. The Medjai were a very open society where sex was concerned compared to surrounding cultures; while matrimony was encouraged, sexual relations between consenting, unattached adults mostly went uncommented as long as discretion was practiced - but marital bonds were considered sacrosanct, and Ardeth had avoided her as much as he could, striving to be courteous but distant, lest anyone should guess him harboring a secret, forbidden desire for the wife of an another. Yet, time after time he found himself drawn to her circle by circumstance; their lives never and always touching and touched. 

But now she no longer was out of his reach; and he knew he wanted a very involved, very exclusive and very sexual relationship with her - he wanted it with a gut wrenching intensity that left no room for doubt.

Angelina had no idea how much time had lapsed before she became aware of warmth seeping into her limbs, of his hands moving over her flesh with increasing purpose. Suddenly she was wide-awake, not wanting to miss a beat. 

Ardeth was looming over her, his skillful hands and mouth teasing her flesh, arousing her. His eyes were warm and inviting as he looked deep into her own eyes; there was more there than just desire in his gaze; something that she couldn't or wouldn't define but that made her feel protected and treasured. 

His generous mouth curved in a smile that managed to be contented and hungry at the same time, and excitement began to curl inside her. "I believe I have a promise to keep, yes?"

She couldn't keep her lips from curving in an utterly feminine smile. Feeling already giddy with anticipation, she looped her arms around his neck and, pulling him down to her, she spoke against his lips, the words low and husky with promise.

"Oh yes... and I have one of my own to keep, too."





Desire



You enter the room quietly so as to not announce your presence. 

Silently you liberate my book from my grasp carefully marking my place before laying it on the bedside table. 

I look up at you with a question in my eyes but you shake your head no and put a finger to your lips signaling for me to not say a word.

You climb into bed with me and straddle my hips.

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. I am amused since I am usually the one to take control in these types of situations. I have encouraged you in the past to try taking control but this is the first time you have done so and I am eager to see how it plays out. 

You reach out and gently remove my glasses folding them up and placing them atop my book. 

I reach out to touch you but you capture my wrists and pin them to the bed as your lips gently brush mine and you whisper "No touching. Be a good girl or I'll have to tie you down."

Part of me toys with the idea of forcing you to tie me down but ultimately I decide to be the good girl for now until I see where things lead.

Your lips claim mine again but this time there is nothing gentle about it. It is a kiss full of hunger, need, and desire. 

You part my lips with your tongue as a low guttural groan emanates from deep inside me betraying a desire to rival yours.

Our tongues dance together furiously as we desperately try to devour each other until you finally pull away but not before you capture my lower lip between your teeth and suck it into your mouth as I have done to you so many times before.

I can't help but whimper with desire as your lips leave mine. I try to raise myself to gain those lips again only to find you are holding my shoulders to the bed.

You smile down at me; you are obviously enjoying your game. If only you could see how sexy you look as you hover above me, in control, you red hair hanging down partially obscuring one eye, your lips bruised from our fierce kiss moments earlier. The rapid rise and fall of your chest is the only thing that betrays the intensity of your need.

I see a momentary flicker of hesitation in your eyes as you nervously bite your lower lip for a moment. I sense that you are unsure of what to do next.

I groan and raise my chin exposing my neck as I whisper a silent prayer to the gods that you'll read my signals correctly.

The gods must have been a good mood, I silently thank them as I feel your tongue begin it's journey from the hollow of my throat to my chin.

I lose all ability to form coherent thoughts as you begin to nibble on my neck alternating between licking, sucking, kissing and gently biting. 

My breathing comes in short rapid, audible gasps.

I've always expressed how sensitive my neck was to you but you never seemed sure of how to approach it before.

I feel myself grow light headed as I begin to hyperventilate. I don't want to stop this exquisite torture but I finally manage to gasp out the words "Baby, stop please. I don't think I can take much more before I pass out from the pleasure."

You pull back with a mix of fear and apology on your face. I say quickly "No baby you didn't do anything wrong. What you did was perfect but it's time to move on."

I give a sigh of relief as I see the confidence return to you eyes and I feel your hand tugging at the sides of my t-shirt. You pull me to a sitting position so you can remove the shirt but you stop short of pulling it off completely leaving it so my eyes are obscured. You kiss me again as you push me back down to the bed. 

I feel your weigh shift as you slide further down my body to my chest. 

My breath catches in anxiety, my breasts have never been that sensitive to anyone's touch and I don't want to disappoint you. I needn't have worried. My inability to see your actions intensifies the sensations. I gasp in surprise as your lips close around my right breast and I feel a tingling as my nipples stiffen. A moan comes from my throat surprising even me. I feel your tongue making lazy circles growing ever smaller around my breast as you graze the pads of your fingers over the other breast. I cry out as you gently bite my nipple sending an equal jolt of pleasure and pain coursing through my body. You repeat the assault on my other breast as your fingers gently massage the pain away. 

You reach up and tug the shirt completely of my head as you run your tongue from between my breasts briefly tracing my gall bladders scar down my belly to the waistband of my blue silk boxers. You look up at me with a grin and a lustful gleam in your eye to let me know you're pleased. The blue silk ones are your favorites on me. They should be since you brought them for me. 

You hook your fingers on either side of the waistband as I raise my hips to aid you in your task. With agonizing slowness your lower my boxers down over my hips, my buttocks, my thighs, my knees, my calves, my ankles, and finally my feet. You sit at the bottom of the bed twirling my boxers in your fingers and you wink at me as they disappear over your shoulder to land on the floor behind you.

You part my legs enough to kneel between them and begin to run your hands up and down my legs massaging my calves and thighs as you go. I close my eyes, lean my head back and arch my body trying to will you to where I want you. My body begs for release and my eyes fly open when I feel your hot breath on my pussy. I hastily pull a pillow beneath my shoulders so I can watch your progress. Your lower your head parting my lips with your tongue and make your way up to my clit. I cry out when you make contact and you back off not wanting me to climax too soon. You plunge your tongue inside me; I stiffen at the initial contact and then relax to make it easier for you. The sensation coursing through my body as you tongue fuck me are indescribable. It's never been this intense before. 

You withdraw as you feel me coming close to a climax. You gently slide two fingers inside me then a third slowly and gently pumping them in and out and make lazy circles around my clit with your tongue making sure not to come in contact with it. I try to move my hips to get your mouth where I need it until you threaten to stop. I beg for my release until I'm almost weeping with the need. I silently vow to make you pay for putting me through this wonderful torture. All of a sudden your lips close around my clit sucking it into your mouth as your sink your fingers as deep as you can and press upwards. My hips buck uncontrollably and I explode as I cry out your name. The spasms rack my body for what seems like an eternity until finally they begin to subside. I don't remember when you moved but as my heart rate begins to return to normal I look down to find your head nestled against my chest. I can feel your heartbeat like a jackhammer in your chest and realize that you now realize how much pleasure one can derive from giving pleasure. I stroke your hair and your stir tilting your head up to look at me. I see the love in your eyes and my heart swells almost painfully with the same love. I pull you up for a kiss and taste myself on your lips and tongue as I hold you I roll until I'm lying on top. You cry out and then laugh with surprise. I then kiss you again gently and whisper "I love you baby but now it's payback time." 

You smile and throw your arms around my neck to pull me down for another kiss. Just before our lips meet I hear your melodic voice whisper "I'm looking forward to it." 

I think to myself, "What a vixen I've created." before I lose myself in your embrace.



Desire



Stepping up to you I press you down into a chair, kissing you with a flick of my tongue against your lips. Smiling I draw away, my hands sliding down your chest to your thighs, fingers pressing inward to part them as I step between. Kneeling down I draw your shirt up slowly, leaning in to trail a line up your stomach with my tongue to the bottom of your naval as my hands slide to your sides and to the waist of your pants, slowly unbuttoning them.

Drawing the flaps of pants away my lips press tender kisses along the newly exposed skin, pressing my body closer so that I can feel the crotch of your pants against my breasts, the slow hardening bulge caressing my skin. Tugging at band of your boxers with my teeth my hands slide along your thighs, pressing them closer to me then wider before my mouth drops to the zipper of your pants and drags it down. Looking up at your face I smile, rubbing my chin against the exposed cloth of your boxers.

My hands travel up the back of your thighs. Coming to your ass I press my fingers up, silently commanding you to lift your hips. Once you do my hands take hold of the back of your pants and boxers, drawing them down your ass and thighs so that you may sit back down. Lifting my face my eyes lower to watch as I draw you free from the confines of clothing, drawing both your pants and boxers off completely to lay on the floor forgotten. Turning my head I kiss along the inside of your right thigh, nipping gently as I come close to your pelvis, my cheek brushing up against your now fully hardened cock.

Turning my head I flick my tongue against the side of your dick before sitting back and kissing my way along the inside of your left thigh, and like before, nipping the tender skin near your pelvis. My left hand rises, fingertips gently holding your penis still as I turn my head and place kisses slowly up its length, my lips nibbling at the head before I dip my head back and arch my back, brushing your shaft against my neck and chest. Idly my fingers trace along the veins before encircling around your shaft while I draw my head up and began to lap the tip of your cock with long sweeping strokes.

My fingertips brush gently against your dick, my tongue twisting ever so slightly to conform to the head, flicking against the edge. Carefully I lick every inch of it, my hands cradling you to keep you from straying from me. Dipping my head down further, I move my hands to gently wrap around your calves, massaging as I draw my tongue along the sac of your balls. Sucking one into my mouth, I tease my tongue along the salty texture, rubbing my lips against the skin as I moan softly at the taste.

Drawing my mouth away slowly my tongue laps at the ball sac before I take your other ball into my mouth. Stroking my tongue against the bottom so that you rub against the roof of my mouth I lightly run my fingernails against the sensitive spot behind your knees. I can feel you hard shaft against my cheekbone, brushing against my left eye. I flick my tongue easily around your ball sac before drawing my mouth away. Lifting my eyes, I make sure you are still watching me before licking my lips, my eyes once more falling to your large cock before my face.

Moving my lips back to your left thigh, I gently nibble once more, easing my way back towards your pelvis and the base of your cock. Licking there, I stroke the tip of my tongue around and then slowly to the tip of your dick once more. Drawing in a breath, I blow gently against your sensitive flesh before wrapping the lips just around the blunted head of your shaft, suckling gently with soft dabs of my tongue against the tiny hole.

The suction slowly intensifies as my eyes slide half shut, my hands moving to rest on the inside of your thighs to secure myself, enjoying the taste of your body. My tongue becomes a little rougher, more probing, eagerly searching for the drop of clear liquid. Finding it, I growl softly in triumph, the sound vibrating over the wet skin as my tongue laps eagerly at you once more, coating with the salty liquid.

Opening my jaw more I take more of you in my mouth, my head bobbing as little by little the thickness of your penis disappears into my hot mouth, my throat contracting around you as the head presses against the back of my throat. I swallow, taking more of you until my mouth until my face is finally nestled against your pelvis. Swallowing I feel my throat contract once more around your dick, squeezing and milking a little. I suck, my tongue slapping lightly against the underside of your shaft as I slurp at my own salvia, feeling it begin to slip from my lips and dribble down my chin.

My arms circle under your thighs, holding your legs close to my head as I begin to bob my head once more, impaling my mouth on your rock hard cock, enjoying the taste of your skin in my mouth. My salvia is now dripping down onto my chest but I am oblivious of that, focused solely on what was occupying the space of my mouth. I work diligently with my mouth, becoming more and more engrossed in my task as I taste your precum stroke against the back of my tongue. Sucking almost savagely my nails dig into the tender flesh of your thighs, creating crescent moon prints as I feel your thighs tense beneath my hands. Suddenly I feel spasms shake your body as your seed fills the back of my throat. I swallow greedily, again and again, always sucking vigorously for more until your body grows slack in the chair.

Slowly drawing my head back my hands smooth over your thighs where I left marks in your skin and use my tongue to lick you clean. Glancing up at your face I smile sweetly, licking my lips clean before leaning my head against the inside of your left thigh, my left hand stroking against your right one. Slowly standing I arch my back so that you glide between the press of my breasts before I straighten up and move to settle on your lap, idly gliding my hands over your chest, my head lowering to gently brush kisses against your collarbone and neck, giving you time to recover. 



Desire



PROLOGUE

Anality awoke with a gasp of terror which stole her breath. "Alayza!" she managed to choke out. Immediately the red haired girl was by her side.

"Lity, what—?"

"A vision," Anality gasped.

"A second one?"

"Yes. The prophesized, my half-sister, will not only save the clan. But all others of our kind. All others."

Alayza gasped in surprise. "All—? But how?"

"I cannot say," Anality rasped. "Bring me parchment and ink. There is something I must do."

"But Anality—"

"Go!" Anality insisted. Alayza nodded reluctantly and left the room. Anality drew a shuddering breath and broke into a coughing fit. I made my choice so that I would not have to worry about time, she thought. But it looks as if time has finally caught up with me.

Alayza returned then with what Anality had requested. Anality wrote for several minutes before handing the paper back to Alayza. "Put it on meus capulus," she said softly. "Do you see who it is meant for? Yes? Good. Be sure that only her eyes ever see what is said. I told her to trust you, Alayza. I know she can." And with that Anality drew her final rattling breath... and died.

SIXTEEN YEARS LATER

Amanda shivered slightly in the chilly October air. Of course, it didn't help that she wore a halter top and her skimpiest skirt. Hey, she needed the money, and she wanted to look good for the customer. I'm studying, she told them. I have friends to see. Her parents would kill her if they knew what she was really doing, but hell; they didn't care enough to check.

As the wind picked up, Amanda began pacing. Her three-inch heels of her knee-length boots clacked sharply on the cold cement of the sidewalk. Why wasn't he here yet? He was over thirty minutes late. She just stood there on the New York City sidewalk for another ten minutes, freezing her ass off, before she finally decided it wasn't worth it. Just as she was about to hail a cab, she heard a voice.

"Mel?" Amanda turned to see a man in his thirties standing beside her. Mel was the name she used on the streets. With her tall shoes, done up hair, and heavy make up, it was unlikely anyone would recognize her anyway. The alias was just a precaution.

"That's me. I'm assuming you're Mr. Preston?"

"I am." He smiled, and she saw every last one of his gleaming white teeth. Eager one, this man was. She shuddered mentally. Mr. Preston looked around nervously and twisted something nonexistent around his left ring finger. A married man.

"Ah, Mel, is this, ah, legal?" Amanda assumed he was referring to her age.

No fucking way, Goddammit! I'm fucking sixteen. And you're a cheating, horny little bastard!

"Yep," she said, showing him her driver's license. Melissa Jones, Age 18. Any kid with a computer could have made one, yet a look of pure relief crossed Mr. Preston's face. It's funny, Amanda thought. What people will believe when they want something bad enough. "So where are we doing this, Mr. Preston?" she asked cheerily. He was nervously looking around still.

"Oh, my hotel room, I suppose," he said, snapping back to reality. He led her over to a black sedan car, shiny and new. A rental from the hotel, no doubt. There was a driver, so Amanda sat beside Preston in the back seats. The upholstery was all black leather, and it was all Amanda could do not to slide around every time they turned. Her fishnet tights were getting twisted. She rolled her eyes. How far away was this place, anyway?

Suddenly his hand was on her leg, moving slowly upwards. She braced herself mentally. Time to block out her world. She felt his fingers as they worked their way up her thigh and under her skirt. Time to play, she thought. Amanda set herself on auto pilot. She knew exactly what to do. She scooted herself onto Mr. Preston's lap, feeling his arousal. Inside, she was sick, but outside she wore her sexiest smile and most flirtatious laugh.

When they finally arrived at the hotel, Amada was all but in dreamland.

- - -

Several hours later she was walking back down the city streets. Her hair was a mess, her makeup smeared, and a piece of the heel on her left boot was missing. BDSM. He should have warned her. But she had made $300, so she was happy. Or as close to happy as she'd ever get. As always, there was a glimmer of hope residing in the back of Amanda's mind. Maybe the kids at school will like me more if I have enough money, she thought. But she knew it wasn't true, and she never had money for long anyway.

Amanda always came home proud of her new found wealth until she saw the stack of overdue bills on the kitchen counter. She always ended up stuffing her cash into various envelopes and mailing them. It wasn't fair. Why should she be responsible for her meth-addict mother's debts anyway? After what seemed like forever, Amanda arrived at the apartment she shared with her mother. Without even bothering to take off her broken boots, she climbed into bed and fell asleep.

- - -

Amanda awoke to the ringing of the telephone the next morning. Groaning, she pulled her pillow over her head. "Shuddup," she muttered, but the ringing was insistent. Cursing modern technology, she groped for the phone, keeping the pillow over her eyes. "Hello," she said sleepily.

"Hello, is this Ms. Lisa Cooper?"

Like hell I am, you son of a bitch. Do I sound like my meth-addicted, drunken excuse of a mother to you?

"Yeah, yeah. What's up?"

"This is the Pearson-Saint Andrews Bank. According to your landlord, your rent is three months overdue."

"Fuck!" Amanda yelled, sitting up "How much did she -- I -- miss this time?" The man on the other end looked up the amount, and when he told her, Amanda let loose every curse she knew at her mother. It would take her two months to make that much, if she worked every night. But she didn't have two months. The banker told her she had until Friday to make up the payments or she would be evicted.

Deciding not to worry about the current money issue yet, she took a shower and got dressed, spending most of her time on her hair and makeup. She tried so hard to look "normal," or someone who tried too hard to look slutty. Half-laughing at the irony, she got downstairs just in time to catch the bus. She was lucky; ten seconds later and it would have been gone, and principal Croix said that another unexcused absence earned her a week's suspension. She couldn't afford to miss that much school. If she ever wanted to graduate high school and maybe go to college, she needed to pass her junior year first.

On the bus Amanda could feel several pairs of eyes on her. Maybe she'd taken the fake whore look too far. Slightly self-conscious, Amanda slumped down in her seat. Only seven hours of school and she could get to work to pay off the missing rent. But it sometimes took her three days to line up a job. She just didn't have time.

The bus arrived to school on time and Amanda's mind wandered all through homeroom and math. She had more important things to worry about than algebra and theorems. In study hall she was doodling on her notebook when she caught a piece of an interesting conversation. 

"Seriously, none of the chicks in this whole school will fuck anymore."

"No kidding, man, I'm almost desperate. I'd do almost anything."

There were murmurs of agreement among the rest of the boys. Suddenly Amanda had an idea. She grabbed her stuff and jumped up from her seat. She muttered something to the teacher about going to the nurse and almost sprinted down the hall to the boys' bathroom. She pulled out a permanent marker and began to write.

- - -

For the second time in two days, Amanda strolled the Big Apple's night streets. She couldn't believe someone had actually called her, and he had promised her big bucks. She was nervous about someone possibly recognizing her, but she needed the money more than she needed a good reputation. When she was almost to her destination, she thought she heard footsteps behind her.

"Hello? She called, turning around. No answer, no movement. You're spooking yourself, Amanda thought. Calm down. You've been out here at night before. Punctuating her thoughts with a nod, she started again towards Central Park. She only got half a block before she heard more footsteps. "Leave me alone?" She had meant to sound forceful, but her words came out sounding more like a question. In the small patch of trees near her she was sure she saw movement.

"Well hello!" said a voice behind her. She turned around and found herself face to face with a tall, dark haired boy who looked about nineteen. "You're Amanda Cooper?" he inquired. Amanda noticed then hardness in his grey eyes. They were the strangest eyes she'd ever seen. It was as if they'd been taken from an old black and white photograph. Flat, cold, and void of color, without anything behind them. She shivered slightly before remembering why she was there in the first place.

"I am. And you are..." Amanda wrinkled her nose, realizing that she hadn't asked him for his name.

"Blayne Coulter," he said, extending a pale, long-fingered hand. Amanda took it, expecting a handshake, but Blayne bent to kiss it. She giggled and his thin-lipped smile widened. "Honored to meet you, Miss Cooper," he said.

"Oh, don't be." Amanda nervously tucked a strand of her dirty blonde hair behind her ear. She looked around curiously. "Where's everyone else?" For so much money she had expected several people.

"No one else," Blayne said. "Just me."

"Really?"

"Mhmm. Not too disappointed, I hope."

"Oh no, I just thought..."

"Perfectly understandable," he said, waving his hand dismissively. He blinked and seemed to hesitate before opening his eyes. When he did, he turned to look at Amanda again. His silver eyes looked into her blue ones, and she wondered how she had ever thought them depthless. They were wonderful. She wanted him to see her and only her. He smiled again, and said, "Come with me." His voice seemed darker, more exciting. Seductive. Blayne led her into the trees; farther than they should have stretched. Fallen leaves muffled their footsteps as they ran. Finally they emerged at a clearing, carpeted with still-green grass. The trees were denser around it, as if keeping it a secret.

Amanda turned to face Blayne, wonder and desire visible on her young face. She wanted him. No, she needed him. This was something she could not live without. Wordlessly, Blayne embraced her, pulling her towards him. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, and Amanda knew they were no longer separate people. She pushed her tongue against his mouth, and he allowed her entry. Their tongues danced together as her desire grew stronger. Before she knew what she was doing, her hands were entwined in his dark hair.

Blayne spun her around and pushed her gently back, pinning her against the rough bark of one of the trees. His hands moved to her shoulders, keeping her in his control. Her breathing quickened as his hands began roaming over her body, from her shoulders to her arms and her waist. Amanda moved her hands and clasped them behind his neck, pulling herself towards him again. Wasn't this every girl's dream? To have a handsome, sexy stranger sweep them off of their feet?

Stepping back, Blayne grabbed the neck of her shirt and wrenched it downwards, tearing it halfway to the bottom. Amanda tried to move closer, but he pushed her back. He began to kiss her shoulders and along her collar bone. She shivered in satisfaction as she felt the bra straps slide slowly from her shoulders. But soon his kisses were rough, moving up the side of her neck. She cried out in pain as he bit at her throat. Stepping sideways, she felt the heel of her shoddily repaired boot collide with a stone on the clearing's grassy floor. The heel snapped away entirely from the force of the impact.

This was enough to block out Blayne's seductions. His cold eyes glittered hungrily and there was a menace in his smile that she hadn't noticed before. As he moved towards her again she noticed the one thing she was now expecting: two sharp white fangs over his lip. She turned and ran, her strides awkward in her twice-broken boots and her torn shirt exposed her now only half-on bra. It was cold, and she was sure she felt rain, but she kept running. Suddenly Blayne was in front of her. Amanda opened her mouth to scream but no noise came. She was trapped in the trees with a vampire.

"Don't be afraid, Amanda," he said. His voice beckoned to her and desire flowed through her veins. 

"Oh God, Blayne," she moaned, afraid and desperate. "I want you."

"Yes, I know." He was still grinning. "Come back to me, Amanda." She stepped forward hesitantly. She drew a shaky breath and took a second step. Blayne disappeared and reappeared behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, the tip of his tongue trailing lightly across her collar bone again. Amanda whimpered softly, torn between wanting to run and wanting him. He moved his mouth to her ear and whispered, "I could let you leave, you know. But a sexy little thing like you... Soon you will be begging me to possess you."

"Oh Blayne, please! Please let me go!"

"Are you sure?" he asked, appearing in front of her again. His bewitching grey eyes bored into hers, and Amanda was filled with pleasure and longing. She stepped into his embrace and kissed him again. Why was she running?

"Do you really want to leave me, Amanda?"

"No! Blayne..."

"Come back with me, Amanda."

"God, yes ..."

"Will you make love to me?"

"Yes! Oh God, just please take me back," she pleaded. Wordlessly, he took her hand and led her back to the clearing, where he pulled her into the grass with him. They finished undressing. Hearts beat in rhythm and blood pulsed to a beat. Skin against skin, breath on breath, Blayne slowly brought Amanda into bliss. Even then, in the back of her mind, Amanda realized she had to get out before he blooded her, but passion clouded every thought. He nipped at her neck again, drawing blood, and used a silver blade to make a small cut on his own throat. Pressing her against him, Blayne made sure the two wounds touched.

Amanda felt as if electricity was being passed into her veins. She knew she should break the connection before the process was complete, but she couldn't move. As soon as his vampiric blood touched hers, she was Blayne's possession, one to do with as he wished. She felt his hands glide across her naked form as she struggled for breath. Her vision blurred and she felt herself slipping away as his blood fought for control. Go! Run! Get away! She thought, but it was too late. Instead she welcomed the darkness and silence her unconsciousness brought.

- - -

"Amanda," he said. The sound of his voice brought her back. She tried to open her eyes, but she felt like she was underwater. "Amanda," Blayne said again, his voice more insistent. Amanda just shook her head, wanting only to go back to sleep. "Get up," she snarled, his eyes showing the venom from the night before. She didn't move. She couldn't move. Exhaustion held her fast. Blayne's slap echoed across the silent clearing like the crack of a whip, and Amanda stood up, wincing, sure there was a hand-shaped bruise across her cheek. She took the clothes Blayne offered her without question. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind as she recalled her encounter the night before. How could she ever leave him? He loved her, he had said so. Who else had ever told her that? No one. So who was she to object?

"Where are we going?" she asked him.

"Somewhere safe. The Council will want to meet with us. Never mind that, you'll see when we get there. Hold on to me, we'll Flicker there."

Deciding not to ask what Flickering was, Amanda wrapped her arms around Blayne. She felt as if there was static surrounding her and she closed her eyes tightly. She was sure she didn't want to see what was going on. The static feeling spread around her, crackling in her ears and frizzing her hair. She felt as if she was not all there, like it was possible she was transparent, but decided not to open her eyes and check. She really didn't want to know. Suddenly a piercing shriek lanced through her ears and, as weird as it seemed, she felt herself cease to exist. Just for a moment, Amanda had disappeared off of the face of the earth.

As quickly as the feeling came, it left. No more static, no more screams, nothing unusual. When Amanda decided to open her eyes, she saw that they were on top of a hill, in the middle of a road. At the bottom of the hill the road became a parking lot that spread out in front of a tall, light blue building as well as a long, square, brick one. The few streetlights gave off a very feeble amount of light, but it was still brighter than it would have been if they had been depending on the overcast sky. Amanda's eyes followed the height of the blue building to the steeple upon the top. A church and a school maybe? Where had he taken her?

"Don't worry," Blayne said as if he had read their thoughts. "We're still in New York. Someplace in the Catskills actually. The Hudson isn't far off in that direction." One of his long fingers pointed behind them up the road. "We traveled about a hundred miles just now."

"Really? Wow, how did you—?"

"The Council's expecting us. They'll explain everything. Now, follow me." Blayne started down the hill towards the side of the church, where a small white statue of Jesus and his Sacred Heart stood on top of a stone platform. Blayne stepped up beside the statue.

"Wait, what are we doing?" Amanda asked. "Won't someone notice us?"

"They never have," Blayne pointed out with a shrug, before motioning for Amanda to join him. She stepped up on the statue's other side He pressed his thumb to one of his fangs and then pressed his bleeding thumb to the statue's heart. When he drew away there was no mark upon the white stone, as if the statue had simply absorbed the blood itself. The platform began to descend into the darkness, and Amanda was too stunned to react as her eyes quickly became level with the grass. After the platform was completely underground, Amanda felt its speed increase, but by how much she couldn't tell. The blackness around her was absolute as they made their swift decent.

After what seemed like forever, the platform stopped moving, and Blayne took her hand. He led her off the statue and down what might have been a hallway. Still, Amanda couldn't see anything.

"You'll be able to see well after the Council finishes your blooding," Blayne assured her, again as if he had read her mind. I can't imagine ever seeing anything again, Amanda thought, but she said nothing. The echo of his slap still stung her cheek. As Blayne led her further into darkness, she was sure that she had done the right thing. What the vampires had to offer would almost definitely be better than anything she could have in the city, she was sure of it. Blayne loved her. She was surprised when she found herself slowly becoming used to the darkness around her. Wasn't that where I always was anyway? In the darkness?

Further and further the vampire led her, through the tunnels twisting beneath the old church. When she began to wonder if they would ever stop, Blayne halted abruptly and hissed something indecipherable at her. Slowly she saw a faint but steady light ahead, and she heard something almost like a rumbling. She strained her ears, knowing that there was something more. Slowly and surely words became clear to her. "Nos es unus, nose es totus. Obscurum sceptrum quod cruor videlicet totus debitum." A thousand voices chanted in a foreign tongue, and the sound of a hundred mournful voices flowed around her. The rhythm was enchanting, and soon she could think of nothing else. But far too soon, the chant stopped. Amanda looked at the people before her, and saw countless pale faces peering at Blayne hopefully. Tall and gaunt, children stood among men and women, looking just as hopeful. The vampire clan stood before her, as if they were expecting her.




Desire



"Blayne Belen, you have brought us a mortal girl. Dissero atque testis." 

"Etiam meus Concilium," Blayne said. He began to speak rapidly in the language the clan had used—was it Latin?—and Amanda caught words like "possessio" and "moriar"—possession and death. Also, the word Mársabis seemed to come up a lot, but she couldn't be sure. The jumble of syllables soon became too much for her to remember. After he was finished, there was a collective gasp from the crowd. Murmurs were passed into ears and an excited air settled over the crowd. "Amaclaty, Amaclaty!" they whispered. Blayne laid his hand on her shoulder.

"Let it begin! Laurus!" Blayne cried.

"Laurus!" the clan echoed.

"Galena," Blayne called. "Bring her to regius cella. Alayza will come later to speak with her. Invado obscurum." A young girl who looked about twelve stepped forward. Her red hair was horribly obtrusive and obnoxiously bright in contrast with the darkened room.

"Invado obscurum, Belen. Adveho, Amaclaty," Galena said softly, starting off into the crowd. It parted quickly to let her through. Her hair was like a beacon of light, easy to follow, and Amanda set off after her. Expecting another maze of dark tunnels, she was surprised when Galena led her down a short corridor into another large room lit with flickering torches. Black silk covered the furniture and black roses were strewn across the floor.

"Too unreal," Amanda whispered. Her eyes swept the room again, lingering upon the black flowers.

"Deathroses, Amaclaty," Galena said, holding out a glass of red wine to her.

"Why does everyone keep calling me that?" Amanda asked, accepting the glass.

"Blayne Belen will explain. He is the one who blooded you, and it is his knowledge to share. Be patient."

"You're leaving?" Amanda asked as Galena moved towards the door. Somehow she had depended on the young vampire to stay with her until Blayne returned.

Galena smiled secretively. "You will be glad that I am gone in a few moments, Amaclaty. Be ready for Alayza and Blayne Belen to come to you. Invado obscurum. Go in darkness."

"Invado obscurum," Amanda echoed. Galena smiled again before leaving the room and closing the heavy door behind her. It was only after she had gone that Amanda realized she still held the crystal glass. The red liquid within was thicker than wine should have been... Blood, she realized. The glass was blood. Her grip upon the glass tightened. How could she have forgotten? She was a vampire now. Or at least she would be soon, after the clan did whatever they had to do. Amanda moved to place the glass on a table, but she felt a sharp pain lance through her. Once, twice, three times she felt the waves of pain pulse through her blood. She felt her knees give out the moment before she fell to her hands and knees. The chalice shattered, spilling blood upon the floor, staining the deathroses crimson. With every heartbeat the pain grew worse. She screamed for relief. If someone would just end it, just kill her now, it would be so much better. Just as she felt she could withstand no more, the pain subsided and a hand grasped her shoulder. She drew a few shaky breaths before accepting the new blood being offered to her. She drank the contents of the glass, not really caring what it was as long as it would stop the pain from coming again.

"I am sorry, Amaclaty," the vampire said, helping the girl to her feet. "I had forgotten—we had forgotten—that you are a Mársabis. That your blood would fight Blayne Belen's." Amanda saw that the speaker was a bit older than herself, with Galena's fiery hair. A sister, maybe?

"I'm a what?" Amanda asked, realizing that Mársabis had been spoken again and she had no idea what it meant.

"Blayne Belen will explain later." Why did everyone keep telling her that? What did Blayne know that they did not?

"Who are you again?" Amanda asked the vampire. She had forgotten most of what Blayne had said in the chamber earlier.

"I am Alayza, Galena's cousin." Much to Amanda's surprise, Alayza knelt before her. "A great honor, Amaclaty, to finally meet you." Alayza looked up, and Amanda made the connection the instant before their eyes met. Alayza's blue eyes radiated the same power Blayne's had held the previous night. Raw seduction over venom over desire. Amanda could not resist. Alayza handed Amanda a dress of gossamer black, which she changed into without being asked. After she had dressed, Alayza Flickered before her.

"Quickly, we must finish what Blayne Belen started before the Mársabis blood overtakes his. As I said before, Amaclaty," the red haired vampire said huskily. "It is an honor." Amanda could see Alayza's fangs glittering in the torchlight. One long finger extended to touch Amanda's cheek. It was slight, but enough to make the girl shiver. Whether from terror or something else, however, she did not know.

"A-Alayza, p-p-please... What's g-going on?"

"I have waited a long time for this, Amaclaty. For many years after Anality predicted your coming, I have yearned for this moment." Alayza looked up from the deathrose she had been twirling deftly between her fingers. "Oh, yes. Lity was the best lover I ever had. Let us hope you do not fall far from the proverbial tree, my dear."

"But I don't—" Amanda began. She never finished. Alayza sank her fangs into the half-mortal's neck. Amanda gasped in pain as they collided sharply with her collarbone. The pure force of the impact was enough to send Amanda toppling over backwards. She landed among the deathroses.

"Amaclaty, I will not hurt you," Alayza managed to say, though her voice was breathy and full of urgency and desire. "You must trust me." Amanda nodded, and Alayza kissed her. Later, she could not say why she had done it, but Amanda kissed her back, aroused beyond belief. The vampire seemed not in the least bit surprised that her advances had brought on such passion. Instead, she pressed herself against Amanda with all the more urgency. The final stage of the blooding had begun.

- - -

Many lust-filled moments passed, and quite a while later the two vampires lay among tattered deathroses and discarded clothes. Amanda turned to Alayza with a puzzled expression on her face. "I don't have a sister," she said. Alayza sighed and stood, putting her silk gown back on. Amanda found her own dress which had been discarded among the deathroses some time ago.

"I believe, Amaclaty, that it is time to call forth Blayne Belen." Amanda nodded, and Alayza closed her eyes, calling, "Blayne Belen, ego voco vos!" A moment later he Flickered beside them. Alayza turned to him quietly, and said, "It is time, Belen." He nodded and sat upon the floor, motioning to the girls to join him. The time had indeed come.

"Amanda, I will tell you the story, but you must promise not to interrupt me." Amanda nodded, and Blayne began. "Many years ago, Amaclaty, a young woman came to us. She stumbled upon out fortress quite by accident. You must understand that we were weak then. The faith in the church above us was much stronger, and it weakened us. When Anality arrived, we were in need of everything, including blood. So I, as the Belen, the leader, was the first to drink.

"But something was wrong, I knew that the moment her blood passed my lips. Anality was no ordinary mortal. Not even close. She was a Mársabis. It had been generations since our clan had last met with a Mársabis. It was during the Black Plague, I believe. Because of Erikagana, we were able to thrive, to eventually migrate to the New World, as we called it then. But when she died, we thought that she had been the last of the Mársabis line. And Mársabis blood, you see, is very important. The Mársabis bloodline descends directly from Judas Iscariot, the betrayer of Christ.

"So when Anality arrived, we were overjoyed. She weakened the faith in the church above us by setting fire to the altar, and she brought us victims so we could gain strength." A grin played across Blayne's pale features. "She was also one of the best lovers this clan had ever seen. Most of us anyway, myself included. She led us to power, and we multiplied. Some of our clan has Mársabis blood running through their veins, Amaclaty. Your sister was our savior.

"But as Mársabis do, even when blooded, Anality became ill. Within two months of contracting her disease, Lity was bedridden, here in this very room. But what she did for us then was almost more powerful than what she did in good health. She began to tell us of another in the Mársabis line, a baby born of her father and another woman. The baby, she said, was called Amaclaty. Anality told us where to find this child. And advised us to seek her quickly. She died not long afterwards, but not before she told us that this Mársabis would have power greater than her own. She would reign with us, over the land, and for miles darkness would overthrow all light. We could demolish the church above us, Lity said, in a matter of hours after the Mársabis arrived in our fortress.

"As you can imagine, Amaclaty, I kept a constant watch over this child. Over you. I watched you as you grew. When I believed you were ready, I confronted you. You are the last of undiluted Mársabis blood, and it is your destiny to lead us into darkness again." Blayne fell silent at this, and looked expressionlessly at Amanda. The new vampire shook her head. It wasn't possible... Was it?

"Amaclaty," Alayza said softly. "Trust in his words. I made love to your sister many times while she was here with us. I can tell you that your blood is hers. You are truly Anality's sister."

"I trust you," Amaclaty said finally. "Tell me what I have to do."

"You must lead our people to darkness. You must be their hope. You must help us overthrow the church which inhibits us," Blayne told her quietly, anger lurking in his voice.

"Why do you loathe the church so much? And why do you live under it if it hurts you?" Amaclaty asked, thoroughly confused.

"It was written when we of blood lust were created," Alayza explained. "That we shall not reign but live restricted by the Faith in the Church. All clans must live beneath a place of the Faith. We cannot enter the church, or we will die. But if the clan can demolish the faith of the particular congregation, the building itself loses its power, and we can overthrow it, and then we may reign. But the faith in this church has been steadily regaining strength since Anality's death. Mársabis blood makes you resistant to the powers of the church, but also connected to the clan when blooded. It is a powerful thing, the mixture which now runs through your veins."

"So how do we weaken the faith?" Amaclaty asked. Blayne grinned.

"We start drinking," he said. "The church was not ignorant to Anality's coming. They noticed when some of their own began to disappear. But when she died, and we were again weakened, they decided amongst themselves that we had gone, left this place, never again to bother them. If we start preying on them heavily again, the faith will start crumbling." 

"So you're telling me that to bring the clan to power, we must weaken the faith of the church. But to weaken the faith, we must bring the clan to power! It's not possible!" Amaclaty shouted, her eyes blazing with anger.

"Anality managed," Blayne snarled, grey eyes cold once again. "She managed that and more!"

"I am not Anality!" Amaclaty roared, springing to her feet. "I'm not ready for this! I'm not some—some—some second savior!"

Blayne stood to face her, and when he spoke, it was not in a shout, but a whisper.

"That's exactly what you are."

Almost out of instinct, Amaclaty tried to hit him, but he grabbed her wrist. His long, pale fingers tightened, leaving no hope for escape. His hatred burned against her flesh. "You are a stupid little whore," he said in that same frightening whisper. "But I can fix that. I can make you the image of your sister." His eyes flashed sinisterly. "And I remember vividly what I did to convince her."

Amaclaty twisted in his grip, but her efforts were in vain. Blayne's gaze still rested on her, and she was surprised to see Alayza had gone. Suddenly she was overcome with a fear stronger than anything she could have imagined. She saw it in his eyes: every horrible thing he had seen in his many years as a vampire, every child he had killed to be fed, every girl he had lured into the dark and had his way with. Amaclaty tried with renewed strength to escape him, but by now he held both of her wrists, and he gripped her so tightly that she could feel his fingernails digging into her skin.

"Don't struggle," he told her, but his voice did not reassure her as it had before. With a cry of desperation, Amaclaty tried once more to free herself, but she could not. He released her wrist just long enough to give her a backhanded slap. This time, the blow was stronger, and reinforced by a black-jeweled ring. Amaclaty fell to her knees, bleeding from a gash just below her eye. She looked up at him, her expression filled with hurt and pain and loathing. She did not move.

"Get up," he ordered. Amaclaty rose slowly, her eyes never leaving his.

"If you want me to save these vampires," she said shakily. "You will never lay a hand on me again."

"Oh really?" Blayne inquired menacingly. "I think you'll be singing quite a different tune when I'm through with you."

"What makes you think anything you do will change my thinking?"

"Because you are your sister's sister," the vampire said simply. Amaclaty opened her mouth to reply, but decided against it. "You are more like Anality than you realize," Blayne continued. "She was convinced after a while, but for the beginning of her time here she did all she could for the clan while cursing my name."

"But you 'convinced' her," Amaclaty spat angrily.

"As I will you, slut. Galena, Karæa, ego voco vos." A moment later Galena appeared, a girl about her age with long black hair standing beside her.

"Yes Belen?" the latter inquired.

"Take her to my chambers. You know what to do." Karæa and Galena nodded. "Invado obscurum, then. You will have compensation for this later."

"Invado obscurum," the girls echoed as Blayne Flickered from view. Before Amaclaty could speak, each girl had a firm hold on one of her wrists, and she felt the static crackle that had preceded her Flicker to the hilltop with Blayne. The next instant she was standing in another underground room, this one darker and more depressing than any she had seen so far. Shackles and chains lined the walls and lethal-looking instruments filled the glass cabinets. Most of them were unfamiliar to her, and that made them all the more dangerous. Better the devil you know...

Amaclaty shut out several thoughts as they formed; she had no wish to dwell on the things Blayne could and would do to her. Instead she turned on Galena and Karæa. "Why do you listen to him?" she wailed. "What's in it for you?"

"Blayne Belen will repay us for our assistance," said Galena coldly.

"But you can't be more than thirteen!" Amaclaty objected, not entirely sure why that made any difference whatsoever. Karæa simply laughed.

"You're forgetting what we are, Amaclaty," she said.

"Explain it to her, Karæa," galena consented softly, laying her hand upon her companion's shoulder. "You know I will repay you tonight." Amaclaty saw the same smile on Galena's face as she had worn before leaving her with Alayza, and the Mársabis knew instantly that Galena's words held more meaning than they seemed to.

"Very well," Karæa said grudgingly. "You are only partly right Amaclaty. We look, and in some respects are, very young. But what you are forgetting is that we are vampires. We are immortal. Well, most of us are, at any rate."

"Most of you?" Amaclaty echoed, thoroughly confused.

"Blayne Belen has told you that Anality bore children while she lived?" Amaclaty nodded. She indeed remembered something of the sort being mentioned. "That was very fortunate for our clan, for while our men are still quite fertile, our women cannot conceive children. Anality's blood, her Mársabis blood, seemed to counteract that particular fault."

"But what does that have to do with immortality?" Amaclaty asked. Karæa put her hand to her forehead as if the whole conversation was giving her a headache.

"Think, Amaclaty!" she said, and though she was trying to control her temper, a note of frustration and anger showed through in her voice. "If the children Anality bore were immortal, they would either remain infants eternally or grow horribly ancient while living forever. The half-bloods age slowly; one year for every seven, I believe. So the youngest are just over two by mortal standards."

"Did you know Anality?"

"Of course. Galena often had the pleasure of her company, being as Alayza and herself were so close. And as I often have the distinct pleasure of Galena's company, I came to know her quite well."

"Did you ever—" Amaclaty began, but Galena cut across her next words.

"Enough," she said firmly. "You have delayed us long enough. Blayne Belen, ego voco vos." A moment later Blayne appeared, looking extremely annoyed.

"What is so urgent that it could not wait until my reappearance, Galena?" he snapped.

"My apologies, Belen, but the need I mentioned to you before has become, ah, more acute, shall we say." Blayne's expression softened.

"Of course, I had forgotten..." He shared a look of understanding with the red-headed vampire before continuing. "May your satisfaction be abundant. Invado obscurum."

"Invado obscurum," the girls echoed, and they Flickered away as if they had never been there at all. Blayne appeared to have forgotten Amaclaty was even in the room. He stared at something she could not see. For several moments he stayed like that, smiling secretively as Galena had.

Suddenly he Flickered behind her and shoved her roughly to her knees. "You will regret it if you move," he told her. Amaclaty saw him searching for something in the many glass cabinets, but he was far enough out of her peripheral vision that she could not tell what he held in his hands. He Flickered back behind her once again, lowering his mouth to her ear.

"Listen closely," he whispered. "What do you hear?"

Amaclaty listened and could hear groans of pleasure echoing in one of the other underground domes and gasped in surprise. "Karæa and Galena! They're lovers!"

"They have been for almost a century by now."

Amaclaty shook her head in disbelief. How was it possible that the two young vampires had been alive for over a century? She tried to imagine them as they were blooded, crying out not in pleasure but pain as they were bitten.

"Who blooded them?" She already knew the answer.

"I did, of course." Blayne had moved from his position behind her and was now pacing the stone floor, still behind her and out of view. Amaclaty opened her mouth to reply, but never got the chance.

Before a syllable passed her lips, she heard a whistle of air and felt the worst pain she could have ever imagined. Agony coursed through her as the silver spurs adorning the end of the leather whip embedded themselves into her flesh. Pain alone took all breathe from her body. A silent scream was called to the heavens as she raised her face upwards and yowled soundlessly, her neck under such strain that the marks from both stages of her blooding reopened, sending rivulets of red down her throat.

But Blayne wasn't finished. Not a second after he drove the shining spikes into her back, he gave a powerful flick of his wrist and pulled back sharply. The barbs tore free, shining with blood, leaving their victim sobbing, and gasping in a crumpled heap on the floor. Blayne waited. One second... Five seconds... Ten seconds... She seemed to calm down, and she was certainly quieter.

"Will you listen to me now?" Blayne asked. "Will you give your word to obey me?" He was expecting total surrender from the wounded vampire. He was sure she would come to his feet, begging, pleading for him not to hurt her anymore, just as her sister had. Instead she looked towards him with an expression of determination.




Desire



"I will never let you own me."

"It's a bit too late for that, Amanda," he sneered. Without hesitation he brought the whip forward with another vicious twist of his wrist. It tore into her skin easily, leaving six more slashes, bleeding freely, scarring her. She arched her back in agony and cried out fiercely.

"Will you obey me?" Blayne asked again. She could only shake her head. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Again there came the scream of the whip slicing through the air, as well as the crack and cry of pain that meant it had found its mark. Amaclaty felt the spurs slice new wounds as well as retrace the others. Pain clouded her vision as she sobbed and gasped for breath. Blayne yanked the whip back sharply, watching calmly as her blood began to stain the stone floor scarlet.

"I can bring you relief, Amaclaty," he said conversationally. "I can make the pain stop. You only have to consent to obey me."

"Never," she said, her voice barely a whisper. The whistle and crack of the whip echoed twice in quick succession. Amaclaty's scream of agony died in her throat.

He's right oh God make it stop just tell him—

When she did not answer, the whip was brought again across her back.

Oh God oh God kill me now make it stop make it go away oh God—

There had to be a way to make him stop without giving in, there had to be—

CRACK!

"Alayza, ego voco vos!" Amaclaty screamed. Instantly the red-haired vampire was at her side, screaming at Blayne, trying to comfort her former lover's sister. Alayza Flickered in front of Blayne, shrieking and screeching in the most powerful, demanding, and totally inhuman voice Amaclaty had ever heard. Apparently whatever she said made so much sense that Blayne could not argue, because ten seconds later Alayza had taken the Mársabis's hand and Flickered them both back to regius cella. Amaclaty leaned on Alayza, literally crying on her shoulder, alternately sobbing and gasping in agony. Such anguish she had never known or imagined. Surely Alayza would be merciful and end it, stop the pain forever and give her peace.

"Amaclaty," Alayza said, but she sounded hollow and far away. What did it mean anyway? A nonsense word that had no significance. "Amanda?"

That's right, I'm Amanda, I'm Amaclaty, right.

She tried to say something but she felt herself fading. Pain turned the edges of her vision red. Something was being pressed to her lips, forced into her mouth, so that she had to swallow or choke. It seemed to help her cling to the remaining bits of sanity and consciousness she still possessed, yet it did nothing to ease her agony. She managed to make herself talk, to try to make sense, but her attempt failed, resulting only in garbled syllables that were almost—but not quite—words. She collapsed to her knees, pulling Alayza down beside her. The vampire was rapidly switching between trying to comfort her and cursing the absent Blayne Belen in Latin.

"Sarkis, ego voco vos!" she cried. A vampire Flickered in a moment later, her white-blonde hair and freckles looking almost grotesquely out of place.

"Oh dear Lity!" Sarkis gasped, erupting immediately into a rapid incantation of Latin, which, even as Amaclaty listened began to change and echo, screeching and splitting and soon it was as if all the voices from the depths of Hell were speaking through Sarkis herself. Amaclaty swore the other vampire's eyes turned black as the last of her strength left her.

- - -

Amaclaty woke with a scream, a chilling shriek that could be hear faintly in the church above. She screamed until all breath had left her lungs, until her throat was raw , until her voice failed her. It was obvious now that she was no longer human. The shriek lasted until her vision blurred and her eyes rolled madly in her head, yet she never drew a single breath.

As suddenly as she has started, the wail ceased, lapsing into an eerie silence. The Mársabis was shaking in agony, feeling every mark of the whip's spurs as a line of molten metal burning itself into her back and shoulders. She felt every nerve in her body and heard every tiny sound. At the same time Amaclaty felt, very clearly, something close around her heart.

She had Flickered without meaning to, standing again in Blayne's chamber. She didn't know what she was doing. Thinking only of how to rid herself of the choking loneliness that had settled onto her shoulders. He turned around and saw her, and she ran blindly to his embrace.

The loneliness, the sadness, the darkness; they were strangling her. She knew she could not survive it. The feeling would suffocate her, rob her of breath, take everything away. The darkness alone could kill her.

She clung to Blayne. Everything he had done forgotten. He would save her. His kiss was sweet and his embrace was gentle as his hands traveled over the scars crossing her back. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry." Amaclaty said nothing, only held him more tightly. She could never lose him, ever. He was as much a part of her as the Mársabis blood. Without him she could not survive. He led her to the bed and pulled her towards him, kissing her throat, his arms still around her. He moved her so that she was beneath him, under his control again, her arms around his neck. He undressed her slowly, pausing again to retrace the wounds across her back. He was kissing her again, along her jaw, down her neck, across her collar bone. A moan of pleasure escaped her throat as he nipped at her gently, his tongue brushing over the marks Alayza had made in the final blooding.

"I'm glad you've decided to listen to me," Blayne whispered.

"I love you," she replied. "I probably always have."

"I know you have," he said, grinning. "You are so very much like Anality."

It wasn't until much later, when both vampires had climaxed and Amaclaty lay breathless, half way between sleep and waking, that she realized she hadn't said he loved her back.

- - -

Amaclaty awoke to sensations pure pleasure and realized Blayne was kissing her throat again. "Mmmm," was all she said. He grinned at her.

"The image of your sister," he said. "The perfect mirror image." He began to pull away.

"Oh, God, no, don't stop," she groaned, tugging him towards her and kissing him again.

"You must get up." he whispered, his lips brushing hers. "It is time you met the Council as Amaclaty. We will have time later."

"He drew away from her and flickered from the room, leaving her frustrated and annoyed at him. Suddenly she heard her name being spoken.

"Amaclaty?" It was Sarkis. "I have been sent to prepare you to meet the Council." Having no choice, Amaclaty swung herself out of bed. She took the dress Sarkis held out to her, one of black silk lined in red. She dressed quickly and saw it was cut at and angle, slanting from her left shoulder to under her right arm. When she stepped in front of the silver mirror Sarkis showed her, she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.

Amaclaty did not know how much time had passed since she had arrived at the old church with Blayne, but she had changed so much in such a short time. She could see the marks of Alayza's fangs as well as Blayne's on her neck. Angry red scars crossed each other on her right shoulder, painful reminders of Blayne's strength and lack of compassion. Her face looked thinner than it had been and her hair lay flat and dull upon her shoulders. She opened her mouth and saw what she knew she would: two glittering white fangs. But the most noticeable difference, especially to Amaclaty herself, was her eyes.

Still the light blue they had always been, they gleamed sinisterly and held unimaginable power. One look into any mortal's eyes and they would be under Amaclaty's control. Her eyes showed something else that hadn't been there before, either: a look of depthlessness, of being closed off from everything else. A sense of hopelessness hovered just below the surface of the sinister stare. As she looked into the eyes of her own reflection, Amaclaty knew that the last part of her former life had left her. She was Amanda no more. Sarkis apparently saw that the Mársabis was bothered by it, because she squeezed her shoulder gently.

"Come now, we cannot be late. The Council has much to discuss with you." Almost reluctantly Amaclaty stepped away from the mirror. Sarkis simply touched her arm, and they stood in a long hallway illuminated by a row of blue-flamed torches.

"What happened to the static?" Amaclaty asked, confused.

"That was only because you were not fully a vampire yet," Sarkis explained impatiently. Without waiting for a response she set off down the dimly-lit corridor at a glide-like pace. Amaclaty made no move to follow her. "Adveho," Sarkis called when she noticed the girl's absence. "Come on," Sarkis insisted, grabbing Amaclaty's hand and practically dragging her to the double doors at the end of the hallway.

"Do not speak unless you are addressed in English," Sarkis warned her. "It is tradition to hold Council solely in Latin. We are making an exception for your sake. If you interrupt, you will be severely sanctioned, Mársabis blood or none." Amaclaty nodded to show she understood, vaguely wondering if they had something worse than Blayne's whip and doubting they did. She followed Sarkis through the heavy doors. The room was not large, definitely not as big as she had expected it to be. In fact, it looked as if Blayne's chambers rivaled its size. The same blue-flamed torches that lit the hall flickered upon the stone walls, casting ever-moving shadows on the intricately patterned floor. Inscriptions covered the walls and ceiling in a language that was neither Latin nor English, but something much older. 

All of this barely registered with Amaclaty. What—or rather who—she was looking at were the vampires.

They sat in two rows, upon seats carved from the walls so that the whole room was one piece. They were dressed in blood-red silk lined with black, their garments perfect echoes to Amaclaty's own. They looked solemn and serious, and all of their eyes held the same sense of depthlessness and loss she had seen in Blayne's eyes as well as her own. But what she saw as she gazed at the faces of the Council was something she had never expected to see in any vampire.

The Council was old. Not just older than the other vampires, but actually old, aged and worn and tired-looking, their hair silvery-white and their faces carved with lines. They looked weary but wise, thin but strong. How could it be? Surely they were not blooded when they were that old; Blayne would not have allowed it. Amaclaty was bursting with questions and curiosity, but she heeded Sarkis's warning and said nothing. 

Sarkis was speaking to the Council in Latin, keeping her head bowed so that her white-blond hair fell in a curtain around her face. "Concilium," she was saying. "Ego tendo vobis novus Mársabis, nostrum secundus thymbra Amaclaty!" 

"Amaclaty! Laurus!" they cried hoarsely. The ceremony seemed either well-remembered or well-rehearsed; which, however, was unclear to Amaclaty. She looked up at the Council again and saw one of the vampires nod to Sarkis, who gave her own small nod in return.

"Gavin, Kairi, Badin, Ehren, Varden, Hewent, Yasmeen, Fenik, Veruke, Deke, Joya, Fedeya," Sarkis said, naming the Council members to her. "Amaclaty, meet your ancestors, children of the honorable Erikagana, kin to the most beautiful Anality and also to yourself."

Amaclaty stared with renewed wonder at the ancient vampires. Of course, if they were half-bloods, they would age. Karæa had said one year for every seven that passed. And hadn't Blayne said Erikagana had come during the Black Plague? She did some clumsy math in her head. If she had done it right—she was starting to wonder if she did—the vampires had to be over ninety years old!

"Concilium," Sarkis continued. "Meet your descendant Amaclaty, formerly Amanda Cooper, sister to Anality. She whose coming was prophesized by her predecessor, her own flesh and blood. She is the last hope for our clan's salvation, last of the noble bloodline that have helped us of blood lust since their first, Judas Iscariot and the prostitute Mary Magdalene. 

"Concilium, we have sought your wise words for many years, since the first of Mársabis blood who came to us bore you and spoke your names. Now as we bring forth to you the very last of your coveted blood, we call to the leader of our blood-bound clan to join you in you Council, so that he may speak to the Mársabis Amaclaty in security and all those who sit before me shall hear his command, his guidance given to Amaclaty so that she may lead the clan into darkness.

"Blayne Belen, nos dico vos rectum nos!"

Blayne Flickered in silently, still dressed all in black. He nodded respectfully to the Council and turned to speak to them.

"I believe the time has come to present our newest vampire, the first blooded since her sister, what was given to her so long ago. Varden, you may lead her to quietus locus. Invado obscurum."

"Invado obscurum," the Council echoed, and Blayne Flickered away again. Varden, one of the vampires in the second row, stepped down towards Sarkis and Amaclaty. Each movement seemed to bring him pain and he moved carefully, as if he was afraid that a wrong step would send him tumbling apart. Amaclaty barely noticed any of this.

Her thoughts were on Blayne.

In the brief instant he had Flickered into her vicinity, she had been overcome with such a passionate desire for him that she could think of nothing else. As he had spoken to the old vampires, she was sure she had heard his pulse as well as his voice, and the smell of his throat was almost irresistible. She wanted nothing more than to taste him. His scent lingered in her mouth, driving her wild, something like a smell and taste all at once, lingering so faintly to her tongue that it almost wasn't there at all. Amaclaty craved nothing more than to taste him fully, to have the wonderful aroma engulf her. Surely it would be exquisite.

These thoughts so fully consumed her that she hardly noticed Sarkis and Varden had Flickered her into yet another room. If Blayne had not occupied her senses so completely, she might have wondered at the seemingly endless immensity that was the fortress of the vampires and just how deep and wide it was. Finally Varden's rough, aged voice brought her back to reality.

"Welcome to quietus locus, Amaclaty," he said. She blinked at him and looked around, coming reluctantly from her reverie, pushing the half-formed fantasies of Blayne to the back of her mind. What she saw as she took in her surroundings was a type of gothic beauty she would not have imagined if it was not before her eyes.

The room itself was small and simple, dimly lit with the same dancing blue flames she had seen so often here. The floor was carpeted in black velvet, soothingly soft on her bare feet. On the stone-paneled walls hung two portraits, above stone statues of two women, carved in marble, lying atop their platforms as if asleep.

Amaclaty moved to examine the portraits, the first one catching her eye, and sparking a strange sense of familiarity and recognition. The girl in the picture was still that—a girl, looking younger than even Amaclaty herself. She appeared delicately beautiful. Whoever had painted her picture had captured both a fragile grace and strong will. Her neck was long, Amaclaty noticed, with a black silk ribbon tied just above her collar bone, the extra length trailing over her bosom. Her gown had a plunging neckline, exposing pale skin that contrasted with the black and purple of the gown itself. The sleeves were laced with red ribbon from elbow to wrist, the four ends entwined in her long pale fingers. But what inspired the sense of déjà vu in Amaclaty were the depthless blue eyes and the long, red-orange tresses cascading down Erikagana's shoulders.

"She was related to Alayza and Galena in some way," Sarkis explained. "Do not ask me how; the two bloodlines are so strangely intertwined that not even Blayne Belen knows where they are connected." Amaclaty nodded absently, still examining the portrait. Erikagana was hauntingly beautiful, so much so that it almost inspired and ache in Amaclaty's heart. She was so intently focused on the image of her ancestor that she started in alarm when she felt Varden's bony hand upon her shoulder.

"She was beautiful, my mother," he said. Amaclaty blinked at him, astounded. She had forgotten Varden was the Mársabis's son. It seemed rather impossible, as Varden looked as if he was old enough to be the great-grandfather of the girl in the portrait, and, in all actuality, was several centuries older than even that.

Amaclaty let her eyes slide to the second picture, and what she saw was such a shock that she felt as if she had been doused in icy water and placed in Arctic winds. The Mársabis in the portrait was, of course, Anality. But what Amaclaty had not expected was the uncanny sensation that she was looking into a mirror. The resemblance was strikingly similar, and the painting horribly accurate. Anality's golden hair was like her sister's, but slightly longer with more of a wave. Her gaunt face with its sharp nose and thin lips and her round blue-grey eyes with their sense of so much lost hope were echoes of what Amaclaty had seen looking into the mirror with Sarkis.

The dress Anality wore in her portrait was the very one Amaclaty wore at that moment, but the scars crossing the older Mársabis's shoulder were fewer than her sister's and certainly looked as if they had been shallower, less forceful. And the four fang marks from her bloodings were placed differently than Amaclaty's. In every other aspect, though, they were nearly identical.

As she caught her first glance of the portrait, Amaclaty gasped and stepped back with surprise, colliding painfully with the cool marble corner of the strange statue beneath Anality's portrait. "Ow!" she gasped breathlessly, turning around to examine the statue more closely. The form of the girl who lay atop the marble, also carved out of the pale stone, was the echo of the portrait above it. Anality's likeness looked peaceful but cold, captured in eternal sleep, her stone hair fanned out about her head, her marble gown seeming to cling to her slightly emaciated form. Her eyes were shut, saving the sculptor, whomever it may have been, from attempting to capture the dying spirit and fading will of the too-quickly-aged Mársabis. Amaclaty saw that Erikagana's statue was much the same as her sister's. But why go through all of the trouble of creating the images of the sleeping Mársabis? What gain would the clan have from immortalizing the two Mársabis twice over?

Then, as it had so often lately, realization slowly stole over her, and with a gasp of horror and disgust Amaclaty backed away from the statues, which were not statues at all, but coffins. This was her half-sister's final resting place. The very thought of the two beautiful women lying so far beneath the ground, never again to see the light of day, decomposing beneath imprints of their former selves, made Amaclaty almost sick to her stomach. Sarkis and Varden seemed not to notice her distress. They were conversing quietly in Latin. They seemed to come to some type of conclusion, because Sarkis walked to Anality's coffin and took something from the statue's hands that Amaclaty had not noticed. She handed it to the Mársabis then, who saw that it was a small scroll of paper, slightly yellowed by age, and coiled tightly. She could read the words to my sister on the side. She turned to Sarkis and Varden for an explanation.

"Anality wrote this just before she died. She requested that it be kept safe until your survival, as well as that you be the only one to ever know what is written upon it." Sarkis said nothing more and Varden remained silent, so Amaclaty unrolled the brittle message with shaking hands.




Desire



8 months later

I am sitting in the middle of the bed. I have taken a shower—have scrubbed the dirt from city's monotony away. My hair is washed. The smell of citrus shampoo clings to each strand and if I turn my head just so, I can breathe deep, and remember sweet summer days from two years past. I have squeezed just the right amount of lotion onto my palms, rubbing it on my legs, my arms, my breasts at just the right pressure to produce a tingling longing. It is just the amount to make me want to run my hands up and down my legs again and again; that silky paradox that a woman is supposed to be only lasts for so long, and I want to touch and glide my fingers against it for as long as it clings to my skin. Idly, I stare at my drawn up knees, smoothing my check against them. Nothing more to do, but wait and wonder. Wait, for what, I do not know—but I sit here, naked, my silken body encased within a light blue over-washed sheet. It is, perhaps, an unconscious last attempt to retain some sort of modesty. But in this conscious world that I am bound to, I tell myself that I cling to it to ward off the chill. 

I have been waiting long enough to have traced the outline of every piece of furniture in your room with my eyes as the pencil. I have painted this room, with its odd pieces of furniture and odd colors, onto the canvas that blankets my mind. Changes have been made on this canvas—colors deleted, shapes and lines added—shadows and light moving in and out of corners. I have even drawn myself. On this canvas, I am in a far different position than I am at this moment. Right now, I am in the middle of your bed, sitting with arms around drawn up legs, head resting on bended knees, eyes staring at the scarred wooden door across from the bed. But in my mind's painting—I am lying down on my back, legs spread wide, each ankle secured with rope to each corner of the bed. My hands are clutching the wrought iron bars on the headboard above my head—not tied, but still unable to move. My eyes are closed, lips parted. 

No sheet hides my body in this painting. I am exposed, irrevocably and completely exposed. My breasts full and aching, slightly apart—nipples, so very light in color, are erect, waiting for your touch. A small brown mole adorns the middle of my stomach—its twin lies in the middle of my chest, above my breasts. If one took a paintbrush and painted a line from mole to mole, that line would be straight—almost as if these two moles were placed there for some purpose. Follow that line down further still, and the black curls which serve as a shield, come into view. Run your fingers through those curls, and you will find yet another small mole. 

But—this is only in my mind, for here, in this moment, I sit—curled position, eyes pensively watching the doors. There is the fleeting thought of a wish to get into this position which has infiltrated my mind for you—because I know it would please you. A fleeting thought only because I pry it from my mind and cast it away somewhere in the deep recesses of the subconscious—or, at least, I try to. I am honest enough to partially admit my desire—and this is what scares me the most. So, I wait, but my body is not still—for the picture in my mind beckons, makes my body begin to react—and my imagination churns. 

I imagine your hands on my shoulders firmly, but gently, massaging. I imagine your hand grasping my chin—forcing my eyes to meet yours, showing me the slight disapproval swimming in the brown depths of your eyes. Disapproval at how I am sitting—as if I were hiding. And maybe I am. I imagine wishing I were in the position that had washed over the canvas in my mind. But I am not in that position, and so you slowly pull my legs down, gently push me onto my back. And the whole time, you do not speak, showing your disapproval and disappointment only in your methodical movements. I do not trust you, you might think. But it is not that and I long to tell you so—though something tells me that maybe you know that, and maybe you know the real cause, which is even worse. You know me more than I know myself—you know all the parts that I long to hide from my vision. This is what scares me: you want me to know myself as you know me.

And I am thinking all of this as I wait—and on some level, it is a breakthrough, but one that I don't want to embrace.

I turn my head to look out the window. Night has taken over. The room is now full of shifting shadows and apparitions that beckon. A small candle is the only light, but it is a mere pinpoint. The landscape outside has turned to murky water, items no longer visible and concrete. It matches my feelings. 

You still have not come—and now I worry. I hear you moving around in the other room, but you have not come for me, as you said you would. "Just wait." I can still hear your voice echoing inside this room when you led me in here. And so I have waited. 

Worry turns to irritation. Irritation turns to anger. Anger at you, or myself, I know not. Maybe you have decided to forgo tonight—maybe you are doling out some sort of punishment. You know I am not good at waiting, and I wonder what you want from me. It has been three months since I moved in, eight months since the first time my eyes moved over your face for the first time. And I have given you much, but I feel as if you are still trying to pull something out of me that should stay inside. "I started this," I want to shout. Or maybe you did—and maybe I helped. Is it time to finish it?

I close my eyes. A slow ache begins to throb inside my head, and I wish for wine. Wine would help to smooth the edge of this situation—but you must know that, and so you haven't left any wine. Tea! You have left tea! Half is gone and the glass sits on the night stand. I find myself overcome with a consuming desire to throw it at your head, should you open the door anytime soon.

I tear the sheet off my body and jump out of bed. You will find me standing! I walk back and forth across the room, counting the steps. It takes exactly ten steps from one wall to the other. I will leave, I decide, but that means looking for my clothes—and you took those. Well, so I'm naked. I will walk out anyway! But I don't have a car. Why did I let you pick me up?

I suddenly stop, breath coming in and out of my mouth in short puffs. No noise comes from beyond the door anymore. Have you fallen asleep? I put my hands on my hips and scowl, stalk towards the door. The door is locked. 

All night, I have been quiet, I haven't said one word. I haven't called for you—but now I take my anger out on the door, yell your name. Ten minutes pass by, still I do not hear your footsteps, and I know you are not coming. I sink to the floor, pressing my head against its hardness, hoping that this impenetrable spirit of the door will somehow soak into my mind. 

I do not know how long I stayed in that position, crouched by the door, hoping that I would hear your footsteps, knowing that if you entered the room that I would punch you. I slowly stand up, look at the bed. Images pervade my mind and I become lost in them. My gaze wonders up and down the bed, and it is only then that I see the ropes. Ropes. My lungs suddenly don't work. Air claws its way up my throat but it is unable to escape. Ropes. I step closer to the bed, run my hands over the covers. Ropes attached to the headboard and footboard. Suddenly, I've never been so thirsty. I pick up the glass of tea and take huge swallows. But it is not enough; dryness coats my mouth. 

Pictures shoot through my head, pictures I have no desire to see. You know that I have resisted the use of ropes. You have gently pushed and prodded as to why, though you already know. You want me to know, to understand myself. So far, I have hidden those reasons away from myself. If I were to look, to examine, I know what I would find—on some level. My heart quakes at the thought of forcing myself to come face to face with my desires, my whole being. But I do not want to find this out. I do not want to admit to myself what you know of me. 

My body folds and I sink to the floor. I wrap my arms around my legs. You ask too much. Too much. And, what? Are you going to keep me locked in here? Force me into looking inside myself? It won't work. It won't. 

Have you gone to sleep, I wonder. It is late, but there are no clocks in this room. I lie down on the floor. I won't sleep in that bed. Your bed. 

"And how do you know me?"

"I know you. I know what goes on inside that body of yours, inside that head. I know that you react to my every glance, my every movement. You want me to touch you." Your voice is like thick honey. I am captivated.

"You are wrong," but I am trembling.

"Do you think you can always hide?" 

"I am not hiding," I clasp my hands, "I'm not. You should leave. This was a mistake." 

"Leave? A mistake? There is no mistake. You have given your friendship to me, and I have given you mine. You knew what I wanted from the beginning, and you still continued to see me. There is no mistake." 

"Yes, there is. It's too much—you're too much," I look towards the door.

"Too much? Too much is this talk we're having. Come here."

"I don't want to," but my body strains towards yours, and you see it.

"Really?" Your eyes sparkle, a small smile, and suddenly your arms are around me, your mouth invading mine, your hands------

My eyes open. Dreams have the capability to destroy or build. Memories have the ability to bind and torture. That kiss. I still remember the taste of your mouth on mine when you pulled me to you seven months ago. 

Its is morning, and my body aches. I slowly stretch. I am warm, but I should be cold. I look down, and the blanket I gave you for Christmas lies over my body. You must have come in during the night. I look at the bed, hoping to see you there, but you are not. No one has slept in that bed. I throw the cover off, irritation and desire courses through my body at the same time—two conflicting emotions battling. And it makes me angry that you covered me up. Always, you are caring for me even as you reprimand me. And this is what you're doing now, isn't it? Reprimanding me? Somehow, this makes me even angrier, but I refuse to analyze why that is. Instead I bask in it, giving myself over to a tantrum.

I stand up. You have a pair of scissors somewhere in this room, I know. I walk towards the desk, blanket in hand. There, right beneath your papers in the second drawer of your desk. There lies the scissors. I pick them up, and it is satisfying to feel the cold hard metal in my hands, to slowly put the blanket in between the two blades, to feel the resistance of the blanket shows before succumbing to the blades. I cut two large slices into the blanket, and then drop the scissors on the floor. Something fiendish, violent, overcomes me, and I tear at the blanket. My body delights in this destruction—heart racing, eyes wide as if they cannot shut, mouth open in delight. It is terrifying, yet thrilling. And I keep tearing, and ripping, tearing and ripping, the sounds echoing in my ears. But suddenly, your face comes into my mind—and I stop. The pieces of the destroyed blanket fall to the floor. Your eyes—they are piercing into my heart. I begin to shake and the tattered remains of my anger mock me. 

Tears fall down my face, a silent rainfall. And I find myself craving to have your arms around me, holding me tightly, protecting me—even from myself. But you are not here—and I am lost. 

Anger has disappeared, almost as though it were a fire put out suddenly by a bucket of water. Once there, the next moment nothing but ashes. I slowly pick up the pieces of blanket and discard them into the trashcan that sits next to your desk. The scissors are once more in my hand, but now they feel like only a pair of scissors. My body feels heavy, as if two large hands were pulling me down, pulling...pulling. 

The pain in my head begins again, and I realize I'm hungry. But you have left no food for me. I crawl back to my spot on the floor and lie down, eyes closed, a sigh forcing its way out of my body. I hear movement beyond the door, but I am too tired to even wonder at it. I even hear the door open, but I am unable to care. Somehow, I know it is you—no one else but you. It is as if the body recognizes its captor even as the mind does not wish to. But I keep my eyes closed—I do not want to see your eyes. Your eyes hold the power to strip me, physically, emotionally, and mentally. My defenses, the wall around that which does not and should not be disturbed...I cling to those now. 

There is no thought of leaving this room anymore, even though I try to think such thoughts. Perhaps you know this. Perhaps you know the power you wield over me; you would not stop me if I got up and walked away. You would only wait until I came back, and the fact that you know I would come back scares me. No, you might not stop me, but your eyes would, your body would. It would call to mine, and my mine would answer. And I know all this, and so if I keep my eyes closed, and I lie here quietly, I might just be able to resist. 

I hear you moving around the room. I know the moment you see the remains of your Christmas present because there is a sudden quiet which invades the room. I expect you to say something, but you don't—and I find that silence even harder to bear. 

You are closer to me now, and I know you are looking at me. Suddenly I feel your hands upon my bare skin. I have always loved your hands—big, strong, rough and gentle. Somehow your hands can be both loving and cruel. Not cruel in the sense of physical pain, but cruel just the same, because with those hands I become something other than myself, something that scares me, something which you want me to face. And yet, I love your hands.

You pull me up, and then I am weightless in your arms. I keep my eyes tightly shut, face buried in your chest. You put me on the bed in a sitting position, almost daring me with your body to move. It is a dare which I dare not take. You sit behind me, pulling me between your legs. The contact is too much, and I jerk away automatically, even as I wish to be closer. But you do not allow this. You pull me closer, resting your head atop mine. It is only now that I open my eyes, for you are behind me, and your eyes cannot reach into mine. You place a tray loaded with food on my lap. Then I hear your voice—and my body reacts. "Eat," is all you say. It is a command, and I cannot refuse. One of your hands settle on my stomach, the other takes the fork full of food from my hand that I have just picked up, and guides it to my open mouth. I do not taste the food; I do not even see the food. I eat slowly, loving the feel of your body against my back. 

Soon I am finished. You pick up the glass of orange juice and bring it to my lips. 

"Drink." I open my mouth, and you tip the glass. I am so thirsty, but not for this, for you. You pull the glass away and put it on the tray. Then, you push the tray away. I begin to pull away, afraid that you will push me away. But you growl and pull me tighter against you. You put your hands on my legs, bend my knees, and pull my legs apart. You are not gentle but you do not hurt me; there is a tension in your body that I feel. For a moment, I resist. My breathing quickens, reacting to your touch, to the picture I must make, but I resist. Your hand squeezes my leg in warning. You pull my legs wider and position each leg over each of yours. With your legs, you hold mine apart. One hand returns to my stomach and you pull me against you hard. I feel your breath on my neck and I begin to wish you would gently bite the point where shoulder meets neck. 

Your other hand slides lower, covering my cunt. You cup me tightly, hold me against you, letting me feel the tension in your body, the strength you hold in check—and like this, you keep me—no other movement. I am breathing faster, moans forming in the back of my throat, even though you have not done anything else. We sit like this for what seems to me like days, though it's probably only a few minutes. But it is enough for me to realize what you are doing, and my mind protests, but my body...my body submits. I push against your hand, begging for your movement. You begin, and I sigh in relief. I expect you to slowly begin, and close my eyes, letting out a deep sigh. But you are forceful, and my eyes open wide. You shove three fingers deep inside me, and pull out quickly, only to shove them back in deep and hard. I have been wet since you walked into the room, but I am unprepared for this. I strain against your hand, trying to pull away, but you force me to remain plastered against your body. You slowly withdraw your fingers, and then quickly shove them deeper inside me, over and over again. I am panting, my body on fire. My breasts are heavy with wanting, nipples hard and begging for attention. You are pushing me over the edge forcefully and too quickly. Before I know what's happening, I begin to come, deep spasms holding my body in captivity. I cry out and hold my hand against yours, at once trying to push your hand deeper and to pull it away. I become limp against you, but your fingers do not stop. I moan and writhe against your hold, and beg you to stop, but you do not listen. Your other hand slides down to find my clit, and again you roughly force me into another orgasm—one hand flicking my clitoris, the other driving deep into my cunt. I almost scream this time, but instead I moan your name, clutch your arms, come hard. Still, you do not relent, and push me over the edge again.

My body is drained—completely limp against yours. Your hands stop, but your fingers stay deep inside me. I am unable to move, and it is then that you bend your head to my neck. Your tongue flicks the place where my pulse beats rapidly. A moan forces its way out of me, and you sink your teeth into my flesh, sucking against my neck, and at the same time your fingers begin to move inside me. I try to say, "no more," but it comes out as a loud moan. Your mouth bites and licks at my neck, and soon I am writhing against you, begging you to stop, begging you to not stop. Your legs push my legs even wider. 

I open my eyes, and gasp. You have been watching my every movement in the mirror across the room. Your eyes catch mine in the mirror as you bite down hard. You shove your fingers deep and I am unable to look away. I begin to come again, my eyes captured by yours, and I know that you see everything. I try to close my eyes against yours but you bite harder in warning and I force myself to keep them open. My orgasm flows over your hand and you lick where you have bitten me. I see you smile in the mirror and all of a sudden I want to cover myself. I try to push your hands away, to move away from your body that seems to control mine. Your eyes have not let mine go. You grab my hands in one of yours, and force me against you even tighter. You bring your other hand from my cunt to my mouth. 

"Open."

I shake my head, my eyes going wild.

You trace my lips with your finger. I feel my wetness. 

"Open."

I cannot refuse and slowly my mouth opens. You push your fingers in my mouth and I begin to suck, moaning against them, tasting myself from your fingers. Your eyes hold mine still.

"You are mine." I am helpless to resist. I nod my head. You pull your fingers from my mouth. You turn me towards you, putting my legs on either side of you, and I feel your hardness, and I want to press against it. But you hold me away. I am looking down, not looking into your eyes. You grab my chin with one hand, and with the other, ensnare your fingers in my hair, pulling hard. And I drown in your eyes, breathing fast. 

"Mine," you repeat. Your mouth comes down on mine, invading, seeking. It is a kiss like no other we've had yet. Penetrating, dominating, demanding submission. I gasp against your mouth, but you only take me deeper into the storm. 




Desire



As she turned into the car park she had butterflies in her stomach and felt sick with nerves but there was no turning back now. She parked the car up and looked towards the window, behind it sat at his desk was the man she desired. 

They'd been friends for a long time, they'd flirted more times than she could count and had a brief encounter that made her want him all the more. She thought back to that morning when he'd walked into her bedroom after a morning of filthy texts both of them getting more and more turned on with each message. She had been lying naked under the duvet with a vibrator in her pussy as he stood in the door way, she'd pulled back the duvet and spread her legs letting him see what he'd been waiting for... her dripping wet cunt. She'd let him watch for a while and then made her move releasing his straining cock from his trousers, it was bigger than she expected and perfect for what she wanted from him. She'd pushed him back on the bed and taken him in her mouth still amazed by his size. He had tasted divine. It hadn't taken him long to shoot his load in her mouth and it had tasted like nectar when she swallowed it all.

She stepped out of the car and thought about his large tool again her pussy tingling at the thought, god she was desperate to get that inside her, she hadn't stopped thinking about it since she'd seen it all those months ago. As she walked across to the door she felt the chill in the air as her nipples became hard and goose pimples stood up on her bare legs. As she got to the door he unlocked it, he'd seen her coming. She stepped inside, he turned to look at her she had 6 inch heeled black patent stilettos on with a black coat that stopped just about her knees, her legs were long and tanned and she had a smile on her face. He made to go into the office and as he did she pushed him back against the door placing her feet either side of his so he couldn't move any where without touching her. He started to talk... 'this can't happen, move out of the way...' she put her finger on his lips 'shush, don't talk... I didn't come here to talk', her tried to grab her arms but she moved before he could. She took her coat off to reveal her naked body and as he looked at her he relaxed, he'd put up a fight to not give in to her for so long but she was turning him on and he felt a stirring in his loins. 

She took his hands in hers,as she pressed them against her tits she felt the palms of his hands brush against her erect nipples and she let out a moan. He shouldn't but he couldn't help it, he took her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers and played with them squeezing them sharply. She bit her lip, it felt good, on the edge of pleasure and pain just how she like it. She felt a warm feeling down below and pushed herself against him. Her hand moved down to his crotch and she started to massage his cock which was already getting stiff if the bulge in his pants was anything to go by. His right hand started to move down her body, over her deeply tanned stomach towards her bald cunt. She had made sure the night before that she had thoroughly removed all traces of hair so she was smooth and soft for him. As his hand reached her slit she put her foot up against the shelving to her left and spread her legs wider so the 2 fingers he put inside her were not restricted. She was warm and incredibly wet and his fingers made a squelching noise as they entered her, his cock was now on the verge of bursting out his pants. She rocked her hips forward and threw her head back, even his fingers felt amazing fucking her pussy and his left hand still teasing her nipple was driving her wild. She unfastened his belt buckle and looked in to his eyes as she freed his swollen shaft, her hand sliding gently up and down it as she licked her lips. 

He'd never fully given into her before, always resisting temptation but tonight his barriers were down, she wasn't going to stop until she got what she wanted that was for sure and he couldn't see that it was going to be a hardship letting her have her own way, surely once wasn't that bad. If any one else were in his shoes they wouldn't be able to resist! Her hand was wanking his cock faster now and it felt good, he was starting to enjoy himself, he took his fingers out of her cunt and put them in her mouth. Her tongue licked and sucked his fingers and she could taste her sweet pussy, warm and wet, it was divine. He moved his fingers away and she moved forward to kiss him, as their lips met his tongue moved into her mouth, he could taste her cunt. Desperately wanting to taste her pussy juice he pulled away from her dropping to his knees, he looked up her and smiled then buried his face into her wetness, his tongue flicking against her clit, she tasted fantastic and she was dripping wet. She gasped as his tongue hit all the right spots, she moved the leg that was on the shelf a little higher opening her cunt up to him even more, his hands were on her arse cheeks pulling her into him as he devoured her mound. She rocked her hips back and forth as the warm wave of orgasm started to travel through her body. Her fingers went into his long blonde hair as her mouth opened into an O shape as she peaked and shuddered, her thighs tensing.

He pulled away and stood up to meet her flushed face, a large grin breaking out on her face as she dragged him into the office and he sat on his chair with his cock stood to attention. She moved backwards towards him and sat on him, his shaft pushing into her pussy as she faced away from him. She started to move up and down feeling every inch of him move inside her, he was so big and so hard it was like all her birthdays had come at once! He couldn't believe how wet she was and how warm and tight her cunt was, she was fucking him deep and started to move faster, he started to groan. As he watched her arse moving up and down in front of him he gripped the chair arms hard, he started to think about fucking her arse hole and almost came. She sensed he was on the edge and stopped moving away from him, she turned around and sat on the edge of his desk one hand on her tits and one between her legs, she watched his cock twitching and his eyes burning into her while she slipped a finger in her pussy once more. 

His eyes moved up and down her body not knowing what to look at next, his hand slipped round his shaft as he started wanking it gently. She turned round once more facing away from him and bent over spreading her legs apart, her legs looked really good, enhanced by those fuck me heels she was wearing. He looked at her ass as she put one hand on each cheek and pulled them apart so her could see her star fish. He got up and moved towards her, he grabbed her hips and thrust his tool inside her cunt and started pumping hard. He watched her hands move towards her arse hole and her index finger start to tease it, he was struggling to contain himself now as her finger moved closer to entering her ass. She pushed it up her arse hole and he felt her cunt muscles tense around his cock as she fucked her ass, she was gasping now. His cock felt so good inside her and she wondered if it was the biggest she'd ever had it certainly felt like it! She was loving every minute of this especially now with the added excitement of her ass being fucked, she was sure he wanted it and she had no doubt that her ass would be full of cum by the time she left. He was groaning now, his cock feeling like it could explode at any second, he didn't want it to end yet so he pulled out and sat on the chair once more. She stayed exactly where she was. She put 2 fingers of her other hand into her wet pussy and then put the juices round her arse hole, she repeated this again making her ass lubed up ready for another finger. He watched her fucking her tight ass with 2 fingers now, he wanted her more than ever his cock was throbbing now, craving her.

He lent forward and stuck 3 fingers up her cunt, she screamed partly in shock but mostly with pleasure, he started to fuck her fast with his fingers while keeping his eyes on her arse hole and those 2 fingers. His thumb slipped on to her clit and he started to massage it her breathing becoming hard and fast. She had never felt so good, he knew exactly what she wanted, those filthy texts had come in handy for teaching him what she needed to make her cum. She screamed as she came her legs trembling, he removed his fingers as did she, giving her a break for a moment. She looked at him 'I told you that you'd live up to my fantasies...' she turned back around again and bent over, 'now get your cock in my ass and pound me!'. He laughed, she was a dirty bitch, cock hungry and not afraid to let it be known, following her command he slowly entered her ass. Fuck she was tight, he thought as his cock started to move in and out, he started to build up rhythm and speed and as he did he moved his hands to her tits. He took her nipples between his thumb and fingers as he had done earlier, her hands were grabbing on to the desk, she loved being a slut and she loved giving him what he wanted. He was in full control his cock fit like a glove in her ass, each time he pumped away at her his shaft moved closer to orgasm it was heaven, 'harder!!' she screamed, with pleasure he thought as he fucked her as hard and fast as he could.

After a few minutes he couldn't take it any more, this was it, he was going to cum. He cupped her tits in his hands and his shaft made the last few strokes before he shot his load up her ass and explosion of all the sexual tension he had built up waiting for this. As he came he grabbed her tits, his legs trembling. He thrust into her twice more and then collapsed on to the chair, sweat dripping down off his forehead. She turned around and leaned back across the desk, she looked at him and they smiled at each other in silence for a few moments getting their breath back. She went to pick up her coat and put it on covering up the body that had provided him with more pleasure than he thought possible. She turned back round winked at him then left. She didn't want to say anything, didn't want to ruin the moment, she got in her car and then left. He remained in his chair in a daze wondering if it had all been a dream. He had held off from fucking her for so long it actually felt like a release now he'd given in and the guilt he thought would wash over him immediately wasn't as immense as he thought. 

As he got dressed and straightened himself up he thought about the many nights he would spend wanking over thoughts of his encounter with the women he'd always said no to.



Desire



(For my husband, with love)

Heat. The road shimmered in front of me as I swung my hire car onto the motorway that ran from the city of Palma up to the north of the island of Majorca. Overhead, an incoming holiday jet screamed its way to the airport and the intrusive noise heightened my feelings of stress and anger. I could feel tears gather behind my eyes but with speeding cars coming at me from all directions, I had to stay concentrated on the journey for now. The tears and despair would no doubt hit me later...

I settled into the far right lane and let my mind wander for a moment. Even though my foot was pressed against the accelerator my brain was telling me to stop, turn the car around and head back to the airport.

Despite the air-conditioning turned up high, I could still feel the full force of the sun, feel its rays beating down on top of the car as if it wanted to invade me. The heat and discomfort I was feeling finally made the tears flow, my vision blurring as I sped along, ignoring the curious looks of the other drivers who overtook me.

I shouldn't be here. I should be on my way to Ibiza now, not driving towards my parents' villa to spend four boring weeks with a group of strangers with whom I had nothing in common...

And Jake...I slammed my fists into the steering wheel in frustration at the thought of the house party that would be taking place every day at Gina's villa in the hills. He would be there, as would every single one of my friends...

The outskirts of Palma gave way to arid countryside, the occasional small finca surrounded by palm trees and olive groves. The mountains to my left were piled up, one against the other, their rocky peaks a stunning contrast to the intense blue of the sky. But even this familiar sight did nothing to lighten my mood. I was furious with my parents for making me travel out to see their new villa instead of allowing me to holiday with my friends. They had used subtle blackmail and every trick in the book to make me agree to their demands and at twenty years of age, I was also furious with myself for giving in.

"You can always catch up with your friends later," they had insisted. And with my father recovering from an operation and my mother pleading help, I had no choice but to agree.

Of course, they had said I could bring a friend with me, but nobody had fancied accompanying me to a remote villa in the countryside around the small Roman town of Pollensa. How could that possibly compare with the clubs of Ibiza? 

I imagined my friends arriving at their villa, laughing and joking and preparing to dance the night away. Their days would be a mixture of sunbathing and sleeping, not a care in the world. And Jake would be there as well...Jake, who, without me by his side, would soon turn his attention to the sweet and pretty Alicia...

I could feel small beads of perspiration run down my back as I imagined him kissing her, his hands covering her smooth, perfectly formed body, the pair of them entwined on the bed in the villa, the morning sun shining down on them. It was bound to happen. I wasn't that naïve to think that he would wait until after the summer to resume our fledging relationship and I now regretted not sleeping with him when I had the chance.

I was so immersed in my tortuous thoughts that I nearly missed the exit sign for Pollensa and slammed the steering wheel again. My mother had hinted at a single man as part of the group who were staying and my heart sank. She had never been keen on Jake and I was certain that that was one of the reasons why she wanted me to go out to Majorca. He wasn't the type she wanted for her precious only daughter and I dreaded to think who she had invited that was more suitable.

The view of mountains had been replaced by pine forests on either side of the road and I concentrated on the signs, knowing that the villa was along a narrow, single track lane. I hadn't taken much interest when my parents were choosing their holiday home as I had been away at University and consumed with thoughts of Jake. Wishing now that I had at least accompanied them when they flew out to finalise arrangements, I searched desperately for a sign that would show me the way.

It was half an hour later when I eventually drew up in the large courtyard of an imposing new-build villa. My parents had recently come into some money, left to them by an ageing and distant relative and they were determined to enjoy their new-found wealth. No expense had been spared in the design and build of the house and its shuttered windows looked down on me impassively as I turned off the car engine.

I opened the driver's door and was hit by a blast of heat, the noise of the crickets the only sound in the silence of the afternoon. I had been warned by my parents that they might be out, but I had a key with me and as I struggled to the door with my luggage I noticed how quiet and remote the villa was. There were no other cars in the courtyard and I opened the heavy oak front door slowly, listening carefully for any voices but there was only a deep and heavy silence.

A note from my mother greeted me and pointed out which of the five bedrooms was mine. Sinking gratefully onto the bed I lay still for a few minutes before heading for the shower and welcome relief.

*

The feeling was intensely pleasurable...hands were stroking my body and my nipples responded as warm lips licked softly at them. I moaned and arched my body as the lips moved lower, drawing tiny circles over my skin. My fingers reached out to press a dark head closer, at the same time urging him to go further down and ease the ache that was threatening to make me explode...

"Ahem...it's Lorna, isn't it?"

My eyes flew open and I recoiled in shock at the dark figure looming above me. The sun was behind him so I couldn't see his face and for one moment I thought that I was at the mercy of an opportunist burglar.

"Who are you?" I gasped and hastily covered my body, which was naked apart from a tiny bikini bottom. I was aware of what I must look like, my nipples no doubt still erect from my delicious dream.

"Sorry to wake you, I'm Peter. Your mother invited me..."

I sat up in confusion and reached for my wrap. "I didn't think there was anyone here."

"There wasn't. I've just come back from the town."

My head hammered with the sudden movement but Peter made no move to avert his eyes from my body. I could now see him clearly and my heart sank once again. He was just as I guessed, lanky and spotty with a hopeful, almost dog-like expression on his thin face. He must have thought it was his lucky day and I wondered how long he'd been standing there ogling me before speaking.

Now covered, I stood up and made my way back into the villa, tiny hairs standing up on the back of my neck as he followed me. We were totally alone in the house and he was a complete stranger. 

"I'm going to make a drink," I said, as he almost ran to keep up with me. "Would you like one?"

I looked back and he nodded, a grin on his face. "That's great, thanks. Your mother told me you were coming to stay. I've heard a lot about you."

I groaned quietly and opened the fridge which dominated the large kitchen. My parents had spared no expense here either and the room was stuffed with appliances and massed ranks of white, gleaming cupboards, the floor tiles cool on my hot feet. Searching around for glasses, I could feel Peter's eyes follow me.

"How do you know my parents, then?" 

"They're friends with mine. They all met when your mum and dad bought this villa."

"So...are you staying here?"

He grinned. "Yeah. Just for a while. There's someone renting our villa at the moment and I'm out here to keep an eye on things. Your mum and dad let me stay here rather than rent an apartment. Good of them, wasn't it?"

I groaned inwardly. If this moron was staying here as well it meant that my mother had ideas of us getting together. I thought of Jake and my eyes misted over again. What was he doing now, I wondered?

I found a chilled bottle of Cava in the fridge and opened it expertly, the sudden explosion of sound loud in the quiet room. Peter smiled lasciviously as I gave him his drink and I felt like screaming. How could I stand weeks of this? Surely my parents would relent when they knew what I was missing in Ibiza?

"Cheers," he said and downed the drink in one long gulp, almost choking on the frothy bubbles. "Do you fancy going for a meal tonight?" he gasped, his eyes hopeful. "I know a great restaurant in Pollensa."

Resisting the urge to slap him, I pushed my way past and took my drink outside. The heat had lessened slightly and I sat down heavily on a padded lounger, the stunning view of the mountains making me wish I was alone to enjoy the peace and quiet. I should be happy, I thought. This beautiful villa, an idyllic island to explore and freedom from studies for the next few weeks, but I felt trapped, like a wild animal, unable to escape. 

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine Jake lying next to me and how his muscular body would be glistening under the fierce Mallorcan sun. How he would love the pool and the terraces, and how much fun we could be having if he hadn't been so insistent on travelling to Ibiza with his friends from University. He had pretended to be sad, but I could sense his excitement as he waved me goodbye at the airport, and I knew his thoughts were already buzzing with plans for Ibiza, even before I had disappeared into the Departure Lounge...

I yearned for his touch so much it hurt. I could feel a dull pain in my stomach at the thought of being apart from him. He hadn't contacted me since we'd said goodbye and in all honesty I hadn't expected him to. Even I knew that our relationship was heading for the end.

I took a long sip of my wine, enjoying the contrast of the chilled liquid and the hot and sultry afternoon air. The hit of alcohol made me dizzy and I realised I hadn't eaten since the morning. I looked up to see Peter lounging against the doorframe, a smile on his lips as he watched me.

"What's the matter?" I snapped.

"Nothing," he replied, a silly grin spreading over his face. "I was just admiring the view."

I stood up and stormed into the kitchen, my irritation threatening to explode. Four weeks of this? My mind was made up.

*

The sound of raucous laughter filled the air and I groaned again. The setting sun was sinking languidly behind the mountains and I gazed into the depths of my wine glass, knowing that a petulant scowl had distorted my otherwise even features. I could feel my mother's eyes on me and felt like screaming out loud, just like the little girl they wanted me to be.

"Lorna...please!" my mother hissed. "At least try and look happy to be here. Your father..."

"Can I talk to you a minute?"

She looked startled. "Of course. What's the matter with you?"

I grabbed her by the arm and almost pushed her back into the villa. The group around the table hardly noticed our departure, so intent were they on telling jokes, the loud shouts of laughter echoing around the grounds of the house.

"I can't stand this!" I shouted as we faced each other in the kitchen. "This is so unfair of you to make me stay here! Do you know what I'm missing? Do you have any idea of what my friends are up to at this very minute in Ibiza? Without me?"

She shuddered and reached for a cloth to wipe the worktop. "I dread to think, Lorna. You know I need you at the moment, what with your father the way he is...how do you think I can cope with him on my own?"

"You've got Eve! Why can't she help?"

"Eve's here to enjoy herself, not tire herself out looking after Dad."

"So what am I then? An unpaid skivvy?"

"Oh, Lorna...don't be silly! I just need your support, that's all. Your father needs you here as well. We thought you'd be pleased to spend the summer here. It's a free holiday, after all!" She laughed and draped the dishcloth over the taps. "Don't make me feel bad. It's not much to ask, is it? We paid for your flight and the car."

"Who is this Eve, anyway? And why is she staying here?"

"I told you about Eve, darling. She's just got divorced and needed a holiday." She smiled and tapped her nose. "In fact, I've been doing a little match-making, but don't say anything. A friend of your father's is arriving tomorrow and, well...I think they're very suited. He's just got divorced as well and you never know..." She tittered. "I rather fancy an Autumn wedding!"

"I don't believe it! So I suppose the lovely Peter is destined for me, is he?" I almost spat the words out. "Well don't think for one moment that there's going to be a double wedding, mum! No way!"

She looked disappointed. "Oh. I thought you two would get on well. He's about the same age as you."

"What about Jake? What about the fact that he's now probably with someone else?"

She shrugged. "If he is, then he's not worth it, is he?"

I felt like screaming. "I do not want to stay here," I said slowly, gripping her wrist. "One week and then I'm booking a flight to Ibiza."

My mother's face dropped and I felt a momentary pang of guilt. But I was adamant. The thought of spending the summer in the company of the screeching Eve and, even worse, fending off Peter's pathetic attempts to seduce me was not going to happen...not even if my mother went down on her knees and begged.

*

After my outburst in the kitchen I'd spent the rest of the evening in my room, sending a text to Jake and trying to get hold of one of my friends who was out in Ibiza with him. But no-one was answering their phones and after a while I gave up and sat on the balcony overlooking the mountains. The night was like black velvet and dotted with a myriad of stars. It was so romantic and there was nothing I wanted more at this minute than to sit sharing a bottle of wine with Jake before spending the night making love with him in the huge bed that dominated my room.

I spent a restless night dreaming of him again and woke the next morning early, the pillow damp with tears. Glancing at the clock I realised that everyone would still be asleep and the thought of a quiet swim was too good to resist. I grabbed my bikini bottom and a towel and quietly made my way down to the pool, the dawn sun bathing the house and gardens in a golden glow.

Heaven. Only a few birds could be heard singing in the trees as I slipped into the cool water. I looked around and waited but no-one appeared and, feeling very naughty, I removed the bikini bottom and started to swim. The water was like chilled silk against my skin and I could feel the tensions of the night draining from my body. 

I swam for a while, reluctant to get out of the pool and start the day. It was so much easier in the water to let my thoughts drift and wander. But the sound of a distant dog barking made me realise it was getting later and worrying that Peter would fancy an early swim as well, I emerged from the pool and went to lie on one of the loungers behind the house which were hidden from view. 

The sun's rays soaked into my naked body and I idly stroked my breasts, my eyes closed against the glare. Five minutes, I told myself. Five minutes and then I would go and get dressed and see if I could book a flight to Ibiza. My body was quivering and I felt a tremendous sense of desire course through my pussy. Being naked in the open air always had an arousing effect on me and I trailed my fingers slowly down to the neat triangle of hair that covered my vagina. Dare I finger myself here? I shivered with excitement at being discovered, but no windows overlooked the terrace and I would hear footsteps if anyone approached.

The desire to masturbate was now overwhelming and I knew I could bring myself to orgasm within minutes. The tension inside me was building and I listened for a minute in case anyone was up. 

I couldn't resist the feeling any longer and slipped the fingers of my right hand into my pussy, already wet with arousal. With my left hand I pinched the nipple of my right breast and sighed with contentment as the pleasure mounted.

It didn't take long for me to reach orgasm, my fingers rubbing my clitoris hard as I bucked and gasped my way to ecstasy. I looked down at my breasts and took pleasure in seeing how round and full they were, how the skin glowed in the morning sunlight. I was proud of my figure and glad that I wasn't stick thin like some of my friends and had been only too aware of how Jake's gaze had lingered on my boobs when he thought I wasn't looking. Oh Jake...how would he feel inside me, I wondered? What would it be like to have him between my legs, thrusting hard as he watched my reaction?

I shook myself and stood up, the sudden movement making me feel dizzy. I stretched in the sun and reluctantly put my bikini bottom back on, covering the rest of my body with the towel before making my way back to the villa. It was still quiet and I wondered how much alcohol had been consumed last night to sedate the others so heavily.

"Enjoying yourself?"

I almost fainted in shock at the words and spun around to see a tall, dark haired man leaning against one of the balustrades. He was carrying a rolled-up newspaper and the smirk on his face made my heart lurch into an erratic beat.

"Sorry?"

"I said, are you enjoying yourself?" He straightened up and walked towards me, his smile deepening as he noticed my discomfort. "It's such a beautiful morning for a...er..swim..."

"Who are you?" I demanded, wrapping the towel tightly around my body. 

"Oops, sorry! Where are my manners?" He held out his hand and I noticed how brown and rugged it was. "Greg. Greg Summers."

I ignored his outstretched hand and continued to stare at him. He was in his mid- forties, tanned and tall, with a lean, almost athletic physique. The type who made old ladies swoon, I figured and said nothing.

"Your parents very kindly invited me here for a couple of weeks. I assume you're Lorna?"

I nodded. Not normally someone to be tongue-tied, I couldn't think of anything to say, my mind suddenly consumed with thoughts of him making love with the ageing Eve who would no doubt go weak at the knees when they were introduced.

"You know, I didn't expect you to be so quiet," Greg mused. "Your mother hinted at a certain feistiness when she said you were coming to stay..."

"My mother has a lot to answer for," I finally said as I turned away and made my way back into the cool of the house. 

"I don't suppose you'd fancy making some coffee, would you?" he asked. "The stuff they served on the plane was crap and I've been up half the night."

I stopped in my tracks and laughed. "I'm not your bloody servant! All the stuff you'll need is in there." I pointed to the kitchen and without another word strode off to my room.

*

While everyone was having breakfast on the terrace, I slipped out of the villa and drove into Pollensa to visit an internet café. My parents had conveniently forgotten to hook the villa up to the web and I wasn't sure whether this was deliberate or not as they knew how I liked to keep in contact with friends via instant messaging. Seething with annoyance, I parked the car on the outskirts of the town and made my way to the beautiful square which was alive with locals and tourists enjoying coffee and pastries at the numerous cafes. 

Sipping coffee I tapped away at my laptop, desperately searching for flights to Ibiza, the screen barely visible in the glare of the sun. I was hot and tired and would far rather have been lying by the pool, but the thought of spending any more time with my parents' guests made me shudder. I had heard Eve laughing as I passed and was certain she was delighted with the new arrival who appeared to be flirting back with her. I gritted my teeth and logged onto Yahoo to see if Jake had sent me any messages but my inbox was full of junk mail and I stared at the screen in disbelief. Was I right in deciding to go to Ibiza? Jake had not contacted me at all since I'd left for Majorca and nobody had bothered to call me to see how I was.




Desire



I shut my laptop angrily and scrolled down my phone to find Jake's number. With my heart racing I waited for him to answer but it rang and rang, eventually clicking onto voicemail. This was ridiculous! Why wasn't he answering his phone?

My mood was now dark with despair and disappointment and I slumped back in my seat trying desperately to stop the tears from flowing. I felt completely alone and wanted nothing more than to fly back to England and spend the rest of the summer at home. But no matter how much I yearned to run away, I knew I would never escape the feelings I was experiencing now. I had thought Jake felt the same about me, but it was obvious now that he cared little for me and had moved on almost immediately. How could I have been so stupid? And if I had slept with him would he still have cast me aside so easily?

I drank the last drops of my coffee, dropped some coins into a saucer and returned to my car. The heat was almost unbearable now, and the glare from the car roof blinded me as I eased myself into the driver's seat. Where now? Back to the villa where everyone would no doubt be lying by the pool and having a riotous time... 

Which they were. When I got back I heard screams and shouts and watched as Eve sat quivering on the side of the pool, her wrinkled face creased with laughter as she flirted with Greg. His body was bronzed by the sun and I couldn't help pausing to watch as he swam strongly across the pool, his dark hair plastered to his head. He grabbed her by the legs and she shrieked again as he pulled her in, his face alight with good humour.

My parents looked relaxed and happy as they watched and Peter grinned as I approached. "Going in for a dip?" he called. "I'll join you."

I looked at him and shuddered. He was still pale and his thin chest was covered with angry red blotches. "No, thanks. I'm going to have a lie down."

My words made Greg turn towards me and he smirked. "Had an exhausting day? Must have been all that exercise early this morning..."

I felt anger and frustration rise up inside me and marched into the house, my mother's voice following me as I disappeared inside. I felt like a prisoner in my own home as I stripped off and had a shower. Tomorrow I would drive to Palma and take the next available flight home whether my parents liked it or not. At least at home I would have the house to myself.

As I soaped myself in the shower I thought back to Greg's words. Had he seen me masturbating this morning? My face burned at the thought of him witnessing me but another side of my nature felt extremely aroused. There was no doubt he was a very attractive man, but he was old enough to be my father and I was in love with Jake. 

I stepped out of the shower and towelled myself dry, watching myself in the full length mirror. Was Jake angry with me for not sleeping with him? I know he'd wanted to...one night we had almost done it, but I didn't want my first time to be rushed and I'd pushed him away. I hadn't had a lot of experience with men and with Jake I wanted it to be special. In Ibiza, in a beautiful villa, it would have been...

I sighed again and went to lie on the bed. Despite the air-conditioning I was still hot and I lay face down on the bed, my body aroused by thoughts of Jake. Oh, how I wanted him to take me now, grind his hard cock into my compliant pussy and feel him deep inside me. Tears of frustration ran down my face and I reached for my mobile again. Perhaps if I called him I could tell him how I was feeling and he would beg me to get a flight to Ibiza. I pressed the buttons and heard the interminable dial tone, but once again it clicked onto voicemail. Where the hell was he?

I threw the mobile on the bed and cried my eyes out, my sobs echoing through the silent room.

*

Over dinner, which I couldn't avoid, I sat stony-faced as Greg and Eve almost made love on the table. My mother and father tried to engage me in conversation, but my black mood had deepened throughout the afternoon and evening and even the numerous glasses of wine I'd drunk had had no effect. Peter still followed me around like a lapdog and I was ready to explode. Tomorrow, without even telling anyone, I was going to drive to the airport and leave. 

I picked at the food on my plate and listened as Eve simpered and giggled. She was dressed in a white halter-neck dress that left nothing to the imagination, her saggy breasts barely covered by the thin material. Greg, on the other hand, looked well groomed in a cream polo shirt and chinos, his dark hair swept back from his face and accentuating his chiselled good looks. He had glanced at me once or twice throughout the evening and the smirk had gone, to be replaced by a look of concern...or was I imagining it?

"Lorna...fill Peter's glass, please," my mother urged as she noticed how gloomy I was looking. "You're the hostess here as well, you know."

I shot her a glance of contempt and tipped up the bottle of wine into Peter's glass, filling it so much that it splashed over the table. 

"Lorna! Be careful! Look what you've done!"

I pushed back my chair viciously and marched into the kitchen to fetch a cloth, my fists clenched with anger. If it wasn't for her I'd be in Ibiza now and not having to wait on her stupid guests.

I found a cloth but as I turned around to go back to the terrace I bumped into Greg. He gripped my arm and I could smell the lemony essence of his aftershave. "What's wrong, Lorna?" he asked. "I've never seen anyone look so miserable."

"It's none of your business!" I retorted and shook my arm free. "Why should you be bothered anyway? You seem to be very well occupied!"

He laughed. "Jealous? I thought you would be happy with the lovely Peter. He seems quite a catch!"

I felt like slapping his face but I made do with a contemptuous look and strode past him out of the kitchen. "Leave me alone," I snapped. "I'm leaving tomorrow anyway."

Not waiting for his reaction, I returned to the table and mopped up the split wine. My mother watched me, her face unreadable as she noticed Greg return at the same time. Eve was still giggling and I realised she was very drunk, her dress slipping lower and lower as she struggled to sit upright.

"Perhaps it's time to call it a night," my mother murmured as she glanced at her watch. "It's market day tomorrow and I'd like to go and do some shopping."

I rose without a word and started to gather the plates. Eve was almost asleep and I watched my mother help her to her feet and accompany her into the house. My father drained his wine glass and followed them which left Peter and Greg still sitting at the table.

"I'll help," Peter said eagerly. "I'm good in the kitchen."

Greg snorted and sat back. His wine glass was full, I noticed and it was obvious he had no intention of helping. Seething with anger, I gathered up the dishes and stalked into the house where I found Peter already stacking the dishwasher. 

Half an hour later, I collapsed into one of the armchairs which overlooked the pool and the mountains. Above, the sky was covered in thousands of tiny stars and the noise of the crickets was loud in the night air. It was cooler now and I sat and gathered my thoughts. Peter had followed me outside and was sitting opposite, a bottle of wine in his hand.

"Lovely evening for a nightcap," he said pouring out a glass. "Very romantic, don't you think?"

I shrugged my shoulders and sipped my wine. There was no sign of Greg and I wondered whether he'd gone in search of Eve in the hope she would have sobered up. I imagined them having sex and shuddered. If they were going to do it, I hoped they would be quiet.

"The meal I mentioned the other day...would you like to go tomorrow?" Peter asked, leaning forward. "It's a lovely place. I'm sure you'd like it."

"I'm going home tomorrow," I said abruptly. "I'm going to the airport and if I have to wait all day for a flight it'll be worth it. I can't stand it here any longer."

There was a pause as Peter stared at me. "You're so pretty, Lorna. I would love to take you out for a meal, just once."

I stared at him. "I do not want to go out for a meal with you. I do not want to be here. Do you understand? I'm supposed to be in Ibiza with my friends and I can't stand it here!" My voice had risen and I stood up, tears gathering in my eyes. "This was a mistake. I should never have come."

I turned away and ran around the pool to a small hut that was used for changing. At the front was a small sofa and I sank onto the seat, my breath coming in short gasps. I felt trapped here and the summer of fun and love I'd imagined had disappeared to be replaced by one of disappointment and frustration.

I don't know how long I'd sat there but when I heard footsteps I tensed. Probably my mother who had come to find out where I was and I curled into a ball on the sofa ready to defend myself against her accusations.

It wasn't my mother, however, but Greg. He stood in front of me, his face unreadable as the tension between us grew. Finally he said, "What are you doing here? I thought you were with lover boy."

"Shut up. Leave me alone."

He laughed. "My, you are a feisty one, aren't you?"

"Why don't you go and fuck Eve, hey? It's what you want to do, isn't it? And by now I'm sure she wouldn't put up any resistance. Or perhaps you've done it already?"

With one movement he reached down and dragged me to my feet. "Don't you swear at me, do you hear? You spoilt little brat! Mooning around all day with a face like thunder!"

We stared at each other and were so close I could feel his breath on my cheek. His eyes were blazing with anger and his grip on my arm hurt. I started to feel genuinely afraid. Nobody knew I was here and I was sure that before I could even open my mouth he would have silenced me. 

The tension dragged on with neither of us saying a word, but then he released me and turned away. "Don't ever swear like that again," he repeated. "It might work with your boyfriend, but it doesn't work with me."

I stared at him as he walked away, but instead of blessed relief, I felt only acute disappointment.

*

The next morning my mother appeared in my room to wake me. Once again I'd had a disturbed night but this time my dreams had been full of Greg, not Jake. He'd been making love to me, his touch expert and arousing. I'd dreamt of his dark head between my legs, his tongue probing and exploring the inner folds of my pussy until I'd almost screamed out with desire. 

"Lorna! It's past nine o'clock. We're going to the market. Are you coming?"

I shook my head and dived under the covers. My body was pulsing with arousal and I just wanted to get rid of her so I could relieve the intense ache. "I'll stay here," I mumbled but instead of hearing the door close, she spoke again.

"Be a love and get Greg some breakfast, can you? He's hopeless in the kitchen and I said you'd cook him some bacon and eggs."

I flung back the covers. "What? I don't believe you!"

She waited. "Look, Lorna...do this for me and I'll talk to your dad about that flight to Ibiza." She closed the door behind her and came over to the bed. "I realise it's a mistake having you here." She stroked my hair and I gazed at her in surprise.

"You'll agree to me going?"

"I don't think I can stop you, can I? Let's face it, you're not happy here, are you, love?"

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, too. I just miss my friends, that's all."

"I'll talk to your dad," she repeated. "But if you don't mind just doing this one thing for me? You can have a shower later. Greg's waiting."

I slowly got out of bed and pulled on a pool robe over my naked body. Running my fingers through my hair, I hurriedly brushed my teeth before making my way to the kitchen. Greg was sitting at the large oak table, the newspapers spread out before him. In the distance I heard voices, the sound of car doors slamming and then silence.

"What would you like?" I asked, peering into the fridge.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" he replied, turning the pages of the newspaper. 

I glanced at him but his face was impassive. I took out a handful of eggs and some bacon and set about making breakfast, determined to keep silent. Greg carried on reading his newspaper, a smirk on his face. "I do like a woman who can cook," he said, his dark eyes dancing with amusement. "And in a fetching robe like that as well. I am a lucky man!"

I almost threw the plate of bacon and eggs at him but as I passed him to go and get showered and dressed, he caught me and pulled me close, making my flimsy robe gape. "Thank you," he said. "I don't often have a beautiful woman making me breakfast like this."

The tension mounted again as we stared at each other and then he reached up and pushed a stray hair out of my eyes. "You really are very pretty," he breathed, pulling me closer into the circle of his arms. 

I didn't resist. I closed my eyes and thought back to my dreams of the night before, yearning to feel his touch. He pushed his chair back and pulled me onto his lap, my robe gaping widely as I straddled him. He fiddled with the tie belt and the robe was suddenly open and pushed back onto my shoulders as he kissed my breasts. 

"Oh, God...." The breakfast was forgotten as he licked and sucked at my nipples, his hands gripping my waist. I ran my fingers through his dark hair, pulling him closer, loving how his lips were exploring my skin. 

"We're alone, I take it?" he murmured, looking up at me. "Your parents took Eve and Peter with them?"

"I don't know," I gasped. "I can't hear anyone else."

We kissed and our tongues met and explored. I could taste coffee and his mouth was soft and warm. The kiss went on for ages and I realised I'd never been properly kissed like this before. Jake was good, but...

My eyes flew open. What was I doing? I was in love with Jake, wasn't I? Surely he would be waiting for me in Ibiza and I just couldn't let Greg take my virginity. I had fantasised about Jake being the one to open me up and take me and what was happening now? I pushed Greg away and pulled the robe around me. 

"Lorna? What's wrong? There's no-one here, don't worry. They'll be gone for ages."

I shook my head. "I can't do this, Greg. I'm sorry. I have a boyfriend. I promised I'd be with him."

He stared at me in anger. "Your parents never mentioned a boyfriend...when I realised Peter was out of the running, I thought you and I could..."

"Could what?" I interrupted. "Screw? What about Eve? Didn't she meet your expectations?"

He pushed me away and stood up. "Didn't I say to you I hated you swearing? Eve is nothing to me. She knows that! I like her, of course, but I'm not attracted to her."

I pulled my robe tight and turned away. "I love my boyfriend, Greg. He's in Ibiza and I should be there and not here.

"This boyfriend...why didn't he come here with you instead of going to Ibiza?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is that I have to be with him."

Greg laughed nastily. "Believe me, if you were my girlfriend, I wouldn't let you out of my sight. You know what he's up to right now?"

I whirled around. "He's not up to anything! I'm not listening to you!" I flounced out of the room and ran into my room, the slammed door echoing through the silent villa.

Shortly after my outburst, I heard Greg's car start up and speed off down the drive, gravel flying. I was completely alone now but all thoughts of relieving the ache had gone, to be replaced by feelings of sadness and despair. I couldn't stop thinking about Greg and the way he had kissed my breasts, his tongue so sensuous and warm against my skin. I imagined making love with him would be slow and languorous, not a quick hurried affair that would be over in minutes.

I reached for my mobile again and checked my messages, my heart beat quickening when I saw a voicemail from my friend Laura. I clicked onto the message and listened, my fists clenching as I heard her message.

Part 2 to follow shortly...



Desire



Amy lay in bed thinking of the day when she would get to hear his voice. For now, she only has the fantasy. "Maybe some day," she thought. But but for now, she did what she always does best, touching herself, playing with herself. Soon, her thoughts made her reach between her legs and touch her pussy. When she became wet, she tasted her juices. Slowing stroking her pussy lips, she begins to fantasize.

"Hello master, I'm home for the weekend. I'm sitting here in my chair thinking of you! I look at your pictures. They make me so wet. I'm licking my pussy juices off my fingers. The picture of your gorgeous cock is my screen saver. I slide my hand down between my thighs again thinking of the guided words you sent me. I grab my pussy and begin to moan, then I give her a little slap an tell her 'bad kitty.'

I move the cloth of my panties to one side an begin to play with my clit imagining my finger is your tongue. I start to rub myself faster, sir. I begin to moan your name. I want you. I need you. Yes, sir, I am so wet and I crave what you have to offer me. I see your cock on the screen and I insert my finger between my pussy lips. My body arches and I begin to moan a bit more. Sir, can you feel this in my words? Can you taste me? Do you desire this kitty as I finger her for you? Sir, I would love to have you taste me. Would you like that? Yes? OK, I will do it for you, Sir. Oh, Sir, I can feel your tongue. Oh, now your kitty is about to cum. I'm sitting with my legs wide, draping over the arms of my chair. I'm leaning back. My head is arched. Oh, Sir. I feel my body begin to release my desire for you! Oh, Sir, can I grab a handful of your hair while you nibble on my clit? Hmmm? Yes? Oh thank you Sir. I open my eyes and see your cock on my screen May I worship it, Sir? Oh please, slide it right here. Please, Sir! Please give me what i crave, give me what i desire. Can you do that for me. Sir? Can you hear me? Can you see me as I am about to cum for you, Sir? My heart is pounding. My breathe is heavy. I can feel it building up. Here it comes, Sir. Oh yes! Sir! Here. I'm cumming! Yes, my master! Yes! All for you! My fingers swirl in my desire!" 

Amy hadn't realized how badly she missed him. She met him on a website. In her profile she wrote how much she needed sex and love. She got lots of emails, and never answered any of them. But his was different. He was kind and understanding and very loving. Even though she was a little scared, and reluctant to do so, she answered his email. She thought he knew how lonely she really was. She wanted his words and guidance. She began sending emails back and forth with him. She followed his words and read his stories. He could always make her wet with his wild adventures of lust and sex.

She began to call him Sir and Master as he guided her on a journey of sexuality and adventure. She wondered if he realized how much of control he began to have over her mind and her body, let alone her heart. Or did he? They shared phone numbers, and talked about sex over the phone. Every time she saw his name on her caller ID, her heart would melt She couldn't wait to talk to him. She was was always eager to please him she did everything he asked of her. 

She began, of her own free will, sending him pics of herself, just to see if he liked what he saw. He sent her compliments about how attractive she was. She was looking for someone, needing someone, to say, "You are beautiful," to say, "How I would love to taste the soft folds of your pussy." Eventually, they exchanged pictures of his cock and her breasts and pussy. 

She wanted to know that someone wanted her, craved her, desired her most of all. She wondered if Sir knew just how much she hungered for him. She often fantasized about hearing his voice on the phone when he came, and him hearing her when she came. 

What she fantasized became a reality. One day it finally happened. He sent her a text her as she was driving home from work. He told her to pull off the freeway, find a side road, and park among some trees where no one could see her, then text him back. She sent him a text, "I did what u said Sir." 

The phone rang. It was him. Her heart raced. She could feel her heart beating as she was touching her breasts. His voice, low and sexy, began instructing her what to do. She knew there wouldn't be much small talk because her master said he wanted to cum.

"Turn the speaker on your phone and turn the sound to high."

She did as he asked. 

"Take your pants down." he ordered. 

"Yes, Sir," she replied.

"Are they down yet?"

"Yes, Sir" Amy answered. 

He instructed her to start playing with herself. Step by step he lead her hands over her body.

"Unbutton your shirt. Play with your nipples."

"Yes Sir." 

"Touch your clit with a finger."

"Yes Sir."

He told her to squeeze her nipples while playing with her clit. He told he to run a finger up and down the folds of her wet pussy. She did. She began to moan into the phone. She waited for more instruction.

"Sir, mmm Sir, I am so wet"

He talked into her of how he would love have her suck his cock, slap her the face with his cock, then put his cock deep in her. His words got Amy even wetter! She listened to his every instruction.

Finally she moaned into the phone, "I'm going to cum, Sir."

"No slut you may not! Wait for me."

At first she didn't understand, but was overwhelmed when she realized what he was doing. She kept rubbing her pussy while being in tune with his voice, hearing his words as he was masturbating . He told her how he wanted to put this cock in her tight ass. It made her moan and whimper as her body tensed up from the desire and lust of in his words. Her moans got louder, her body began to shake.

"Please, Sir! Now? May I now Sir? Now Sir please!"

"No, not yet," he moaned. "Wait for me." 

The sounds of him moaning told Amy that he was close. They got louder and louder.

The sounds of his voice sent her heart racing. She could tell he was stroking his cock harder and faster as his moans were getting louder. It was almost there, her orgasm She wiggled and moaned and got louder.

She pleaded, "Sir! Here it comes. May i cum now Sir. Please!

"Now," he shouted, "Come with me! Yesssssss"

The sounds of him cumming filled her ears. It was amazing as there bodies unite together. Amy felt like they were actually in each others arms having passionate sex! Then there was silence except for their heavy breathing.

As Amy sat there, her eyes blurred, she felt relief.

Then the sound of silence turned into a giggle as she said, "Thank you Sir."

He just chuckled.

Her fingers were soaked with her cum. She asked, "Sir may I lick my fingers?"

"You may." he replied.

As she was making the sounds of sucking the sweet juices off her fingers, she says, "Sir, i wished i was there to lick your cum off your fingers "

"Oh, yes."

After a few minutes, Sir said his cock was still hard. Amy told him that she wanted to be on the floor in front of him and suck him off. She told him she wanted to lick off the cum that was all over the head of his cock. He told her he wanted to put is head between her legs and lick the juices all over her pussy. The next thing Amy knew, they were talking their way to another orgasm.

It was hard to say goodbye. They sat in silence for awhile.

"My sweet slut, I have to go now," he finally said.

"That's OK, Sir. I need to get home too."

Amy sat there smiling. She hoped it wouldn't be too long until she got another phone call. But, for now, she just sat there caressing her pussy, and re-lived the wonderful sex they shared. She let out a sigh as she started to pull up her pants. Looking in the mirror, she noticed that her cheeks were still flushed. She touched her breast and felt heart still pounding. She started laughing when she reached down for her pants and noticed that her car seat was wet from her own cum. She grinned as she pulled up her pants, and buttoned her blouse. She started her car and got back on the highway headed towards home. While she was driving, she could not stop smiling as she kept hearing his voice playing over and over in her head. She let out a soft moan of contentment and she slid her hand down into her pants one more time to feel the desire that laid on her fingers.



Desire Amongst the Stacks



I walk into the library wearing a long winter jacket, brown wool with faux fur cuffs and neck line. Auburn curls tossed and wild from the cold winter wind that blows viciously through the narrow city streets. 

Shaking with gratitude to be lost amongst the steamy warmth of house of fantasies, fact and myth, I walk to the fourth floor slowly opening my jacket as the heat reaches my body. I sensed I am being watched, stopping to look around, I see no one. 

Smiling to myself, I continue and find the desk in the corner lost amongst the stacks of my desire.. books.. keepers of dreams, truth and history.. myth making, bliss enhanced, artful colorings of life. 

My coat off now reveals a tasteful black skirt cut to mid thigh, short enough to demand attention while long enough to deem respect. Black silky stockings grace my legs, secret knowledge that they are lace topped thigh his make me giggle with glee. Leather knee hi boots with 3" heels creates an Amazonian appearance, regal and wanton. I love being tall and walk with an air of confidence that blooms from my essence. 

My tight, black cardigan sweater that buttoned low into a V shows the blossoms of my breast cradled safely amongst the firework splashed gel bra. The bra feels like warm hands continuously caressing my full 38 D breast. Lace rubbing soft and rough against the nipples already hard and calling for attention. 

Men watch me walk by, long desire filled glances as my auburn curls bounce gentle against my shoulders, swaying with my hips as my full ass calls for them to dive into forbidden caverns. I find the stack I am looking for, Hegel, Bacon, Plato, Socrates, Descartes, Campbell. Philosophy, soul and mind food. My hand runs across the binders as I close my eyes feeling the thousands of minds that have opened these mental orgasms called books. 

Lost in the essence of others hands roaming pages of knowledge, I suddenly feel a slight caress, warm breeze at the nape of my neck. Eyes still closed, I call to the dream of lips slowly digesting my skin suckling my pulse, arousal, mental and physical. Gracefully, my hand naturally grazes my round exposed breast, your hand joins mine. Our fingers tracing together, moving down a slope of desire as I feel fingers exploring under the skirt. Urgent fingers pulling to reveal no panties, only the black lace tops of the thigh his that gently stroke my shaved lips. 

Probing... lost in the need to feel hot moisture and cool demanding fingers meshed together, I push my ass up, head tossed back, your lips lost in my pulse as your fingers dive into my wetness, gushing oceans of hot femininity parts the lips of my sea. Your hardness pressing against me, demanding, rasping, desire fills me fully, only making me crave you all the more. 

Understanding the secrets of arousal, forbidden places and acts needing of more, I slowly grind my ass against you. A seductive dance, with hands gripping onto the shelves, my skirt slowly raises, exposing raw flesh screaming for you. My legs open, waiting for the final dance of our pas de deux. Seductively, you slide into me, slowly teasing me, your head hot and full, naturally I rise to meet you, lost in our soulful adagio.

Looking into the aisle, I spy a beautiful woman watching us. Long blond hair plied on her head, pink full lips, moist and slightly parted. Full breast stretched against a white silk blouse. Gracefully her hand reaches down between her long legs, smiling as I glance at her. I watch her fingers work, a steady rhythm of building energies that matches the stride of our coupling. Breathe quickening, my eyes are locked with this Goddess as I see a flush rise up her neck, painting a natural rouge to her lips and cheeks. She is as close as I am, I whisper "Faster babe, harder... now... let go..." Your moans are musical in my ear, we are one, connected, united lost in all we can be and will be. 

My eyes dance with the light of a thousand fire flies that shot to the night sky as a primal groan leaves my lips, vulva pulsing, womb contracting, your head pumping all its white thick cum into my deepest regions. 

Softly I hear a whimper, I look and my friend is cumming. I watch her as you and I slowly float back to the stacks. She smiles and mouths thank you. You look and laugh kissing me full and deep, sucking my soul from my inner core. Eyes dancing, happy, grateful for forbidden knowledge and the ability to share unbridled desire.



Desire and Confusion



Disclaimer: Every character depicted in this story is at least 18 years of age or older. Furthermore every character in this story is fictitious, any similarities to persons living or dead is completely coincidental. If you are offended by incest, nonconsensual sex and/or dialog which could be deemed demeaning please do not read this story. For everyone else, please enjoy and feel free to provide me with constructive criticism. Thank You! 



I remember the excitement I felt. Being eighteen, it was going to be my first real date with an older guy. It was to be a date where my parents or his wouldn't be driving us to our destination. It was to be a date where we wouldn't have to hide under the bleachers of the football field to have sex. It was to be a date where I wouldn't have to worry about getting pregnant thanks to the birth control patch on my right hip. It was to be a date with a real man with a real career, a real nice car and an apartment of his own.

At school I was often referred to as a slut. The term was demeaning and it hurt to hear it sometimes but I had grown to accept it. After all I did enjoy sex, a lot. I also know how attractive I am, my friends and boyfriends always told me I look like a petite Miranda Kerr. I love to flaunt my body with sexy skimpy clothes because I love the attention it gets me. For this date I bought a hot new tight white mini skirt that was low on the hips and short on my legs. I have a small ass and relatively narrow hips so the skirt fit perfectly without riding up in the back. It was such that there was a hint of the very top and very bottom of my small tight butt cheeks. My black G-string was visible through the material and above the waist band of the skirt. I matched it with a tight white tank top and a lightweight mid-waist pale pink cardigan. I had my manicure and pedicure done in pink to match the cardigan. I didn't were a bra, my boobs are small and firm enough that I didn't need one, but also I enjoyed knowing that men could see them through the white shirt. Actually another reason I went braless was because my boobs were a bit swollen and tender from the birth control which made my normal sized bra's uncomfortable. I tried to go with simple accessories to keep the attention on my body and face. Sparkly white gold earrings set with a dozen tiny diamonds with a matching ring I wore on my right ring finger to help draw his attention to the exposed patch on my hip. My pretty high heeled sandals were a color called Silver Snow and they matched perfectly with the jewelry I sported. I carried a small white coach clutch bag with only the basics to touch up my makeup, a smoky dark eye to make my big pretty blues standout combined with blush and lipstick to match the cardigan. I left my long brunette hair natural looking, but that's not to mean I didn't spend hours getting it to look exactly how I wanted.

When I looked at the clock I was ready a half hour early. That was rare of me to be ready early and I chalked it up to my excitement. I walked down to the kitchen to get a water bottle from the fridge (Proper hydration is the most important thing for maintaining smooth clear skin) and my dad was sitting in there looking over the manual for the new microwave we got. The light from the setting sun was bursting through the window illuminating me like a spotlight as I entered. I could feel my dad's eyes on me the instant the warmth of the sun light washed over me. I knew my dad was a pervert, he never objected to my skimpy outfits like most dads would and I constantly caught him looking at my body in ways that no father should. Sometimes he wouldn't even bother to avert his eyes when I caught him.

It's hard for me to explain the feelings I have with regards to my father's attraction to me. I tried, for the most part, to ignore it. After all he was a good father; he made sure I did well in school and he patiently taught me how to drive. He was always there when I needed him weather it was calming me after a nightmare as a kid, or as a teenager picking me up from an out of control party at 3 in the morning when he had to be up to go to the gym before work at 5. He did it all without complaint, so I loved him dearly. Though sometimes he was so blatant with the way he stared at me and smirked that it did make me feel a little weird and uncomfortable.  Though in all honesty there was a part of me that was flattered to get such attention from my own father and without a doubt it made me feel pretty and confident in my appearance. It also made me feel dirty in a good way and a bad way. Dirty because my ignorance of it was his enabler and I never once voiced my discomfort. Dirty because I let him look at me and it exhilarated me to be such a sexual freak. Dirty because it made me feel like the slut everyone said I was. It was all a big confused mess in my head and I couldn't be sure if I liked it, disliked it or both.

"What's that sticker on you for?" His tone was mildly sarcastic and a sly smile was plastered on his rugged handsome face. 

He obviously knew what it was since he'd seen them on me for the past couple months but he wanted to hear me say it. My response was a sigh and silence as I leaned against the kitchen sink drinking my water. 

I was looking up and off to the side at nothing in particular letting my dad drink in the sight of me when he spoke again after a minute or two, "It's interesting how you chose to show it off in such a manner..." I looked to him. His eyes were fixed on my hips and an expression of mild distaste on his face, "As if it's an advertisement."

"You don't like it there?" My voice was soft and meeker than I intended.

Dad twisted his mouth and shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't say that. It's actually quite sexy." He Smiled. "It's just that I always found it more exciting when there was some level of risk involved."

He was being exceptionally outgoing with his choice of conversation and I was taken aback by it a little bit. I'm sure it was obvious to him that I was a very sexually active young woman, though this was the first time he ever spoke of it so nonchalantly and bluntly. It was also the first time he used the word "sexy" to describe me. I tried to ignore the tingles it gave me down below.

"Yeah well I'd rather not get pregnant this young like you and mom did." I realized I sounded very nasty, more so than I wanted. Perhaps an inadvertent defense to the way he was making me feel.

Dad chuckled and took it in stride, "I never regretted having you. You know that. Hmph, You're the single most amazing thing in my life..." His eyes followed the curves of my body all the way down to my sexy heeled sandals, then slowly back up to meet my eyes. I know that he knew that I knew what he was thinking and it made him grin with pleasure that I allowed it. "And I suppose my ahh... my other feelings for you, probably aren't a secret any more. Are they?"

I felt my face flush and my blood begin to course through my veins like a freight train. I didn't know what to say. I never thought he would ever admit it so openly to me. This changed everything. The whole dynamic between us would be different because, if I let him look at me not, it was no longer an innocent tease but rather an open invitation. I was always disgusted with myself when I found pleasure in his gaze, it was always such a mixed up batch of emotions I almost couldn't handle it. But now! Out of nowhere it was all out in the open. It felt so much more real I thought I might faint from the dizzying whirl of motley feelings. Without a word I turned and looked out the window. My mother was sunbathing in her bikini over by the pool. The sun a deep orange now half hidden behind the tall pine trees at the back of our yard and the sky was all shades of pink, blue and orange with little wisps of white clouds here and there. It was beautiful and serene. It distracted and calmed me for the moment.

Dad kept at it, not so subtly dancing around the bush. "Let tell you how I would want it to go if I were this boy toy you're going to go out with tonight."

Finally I found the courage to speak but I still had my back to him and I was still looking out the window, "You know what dad? I don't think I want to hear it! Actually this conversation is really beginning to gross me out!" I sounded serious and slightly pissed off.

He came back so quickly and with a slightly raised voice it seemed aggressive, "Then why are you still standing there?"

Dad was right, I was still standing there, and consciously bent over the sink just enough so that he could see right up my skirt. My previous statement was only a partial truth since there was also an excitement building inside me from the freaky nature of dad's attraction to me.  Instinctively I apologized, for what I wasn't sure, "You're right daddy. I'm sorry." It was more an act of submission on my part I think, and the simple act of that apology thrilled me to no end. I grew moist between my legs and my heart fluttered with all those 'dirty' feelings as adrenaline spurred me on to new territory. Softly I asked, "So how would you want it to go if it were you?"

I heard him get up out of his chair and push it in as he spoke briefly and bluntly about his fantasy. "I would want you to withhold any information about birth control until after I dropped my load in that tight little bald cunny of yours. Do you shave it that smooth or do you have it waxed?"

I honestly didn't realize he could see that much and I wanted to reach back and pull down my skirt but I knew how much he liked what I was doing, so I didn't. I liked knowing that he was happy with me, a child's urge to please their parents I suppose, as creepy and perverted as it was. I was in awe of the way he was speaking to me, so dominant, direct, and uninhibited. It made me feel an odd blend of both arousal and disgust that made me continue with youthful curiosity. "Waxed," I answered. "What if he asks me if I'm birth control?"

Dad was truthful as I heard him slowly step toward me, "Well, then he is a much different man than me. Be honest but don't freely give away information. Mystery is a great aphrodisiac."

Without warning I felt his warm uninvited touch, his right hand cupped my ass cheek and his left wrapped around my thigh right where it met my hip. It startled me and I jerked around to face him. Almost yelling I asked, "What are you doing?" I knew exactly what he was doing, but even after our sexually charged little conversation it came as a surprise.

"Sshhh!! We wouldn't want your mother to hear." His voice was soothing yet powerful as he gripped my shoulders and pushed me over the sink. He was not a huge guy but he was significantly stronger than me. I resisted him enough to let him know I didn't want to do it but not nearly with all my strength.

"Dad no," I pleaded barely above a whisper obeying his command to be quiet as I tried to push myself away from the counter. It was barely enough to bump him back an inch or so and I felt my butt cheeks spread around the erection bulge in his pants. I realized that my weak struggles were only enticing him. He knew I wasn't resisting with all my power.

"Stop," he whispered as he pinned me against the counter the stainless steel sink in my face. "Don't move."

He backed off a bit so he could unbuckle his belt. Like a good daughter I did as I was told and held perfectly still as he undid his pants and let them drop to the floor. My heart was pounding as my breath became deep and ragged. I had never had a guy be so forceful and dominant as my father was right then and it was a side of him that I was seeing for the first time. My mind said 'NO' but my body betrayed it as my pussy tingled with intense arousal and I felt an unusual yearning deep in my tummy. I realized then that there was no stopping this, my own father was about to rape me, and I was going to let him. Perhaps then that wouldn't be rape, if I let him, would it? I admit, part of me wanted it, but in my mind I knew it was wrong and gross. Yet maybe it was the wrongness and grossness that helped bring me to such an abnormally high state of arousal. Up to this point I had fucked 7 different guys a total of a dozen times between all 7 and I had never been as sexually turned on as I was right then.

I felt my father's thick cock slowly glide over the crack of my ass while his hands bunched up my skirt at the small of my back. "Do you realize what you've done to me", he groaned with dominance, more a statement than a question. His right hand slid up my shirt and squeezed my tit as his left explored my narrow waist. I felt my sex respond with increased moisture from his rough manly hands groping and exploring my body. Somehow my cardigan was no longer on my body and I felt my shirt being tugged over my head. I did not resist. "All these years of teasing me," He went on. "You knew what you were doing you little slut! Now it's time you get what you deserve."

My arousal was so potent I could smell myself and I was sure he could smell me too. Dad's right hand found my sopping wet pussy. "Ahh fuck yeah," he whispered. "You're fuckin dripping! You fuckin love what I'm doing to you don't you?"

I was silent, trying only to gain some control of my breathing. I had become afraid too. I felt like my dad was right. I knew what I had been doing all those years, but I never expected it would come to this. I suppose I should have known. Maybe if I had seen this aggressive sexual side of him in some other way I may have stopped teasing him. Yet as my mind lingered on his question, I found myself wondering if this would have happened sooner had I known about this carnal personality of his. His dominant aggression and my fear of it only seemed to be intensifying my erotic excitement.

Dad's hands left my body as he removed his shirt. Suddenly he yanked me up by my hair. My back pressed against his solid stomach and the nape of my neck arched over his right sparsely haired pectoral muscle. His hard shaft nestled firmly between the top of my butt cheeks while the mushroom cap poked into the small of my back. He lowered his head so our faces were next to each other with his prickly stubble brushing lightly against my smooth cheek. He whispered with breath scented of the mango he must have just eaten and a firm commanding grip on my hair. "I asked you a question. Do you like what I'm doing to you?" His tone implied that he was going to be in control of me.

"Yes," was the word that flew from my mouth without a single thought and it wasn't untrue. Simultaneously I gave in to it all, excited, afraid, aroused and willing yet unwilling. I let my body go limp in his arms and let all my minty breath escape my lungs in one big sigh. He grinned at my submission. His left hand cupped my pussy and pulled me tight against him while his right released its grip on my hair and petted me like I was his kitty cat purring in his ear. "That's my good girl." His fingers probed at my clit as he continued, "You look scared. Didn't know daddy could get like this did you?"

"No," I responded barely audible through my heavy breathing. I wiggled my ass against his dick and added, "...but it's so hot."

I felt his tongue slither slowly from my shoulder all the way up my neck before he nibbled gently on my earlobe. I cooed with a soft high-pitched moan. I reached back with my left hand and lightly brushed my pink nails over his bald shaven head. He was handsome and stern and 16 years my elder. He went to the gym 5 days a week with his wife, my mother, and had a lean muscular body to show for it. His genitals felt neatly groomed against the skin on my ass. I always knew he was an attractive man, but now I was seeing it with new wanton eyes as I unleashed the chains of my inhabitions.

Abruptly, dad pushed me so I was bent over the sink again. With haste he pulled my skirt and G-string down till they fell to the floor. I kicked them off across the kitchen. We were both naked and vulnerable. I feared my mother walking in because it would be difficult to pick up all our clothes and hide before she saw us. I felt the tip of dads dick spread my smooth wet lips before he commented, "I've never fucked such a smooth hairless pussy before. Between that and your tiny size, Mmm, you look so much younger than you are."

"Sorry," I muttered unsure if he was unhappy about it.

"Don't be, I think you're so fucking sexy," he stated as he pressed his dick into me a little bit. I groaned as my pussy stretched to accommodate his girth. "Is this what you want?" His voice was gruff with pleasure as half his cock was now in me.

"Yes!" I moaned.

He asked almost growling, "Yes who?"

"Yes daddy!" My answer came to me without thought.

"That's my good girl. I want to hear you tell daddy what you want." The command came as he was buried fully inside me. He was large more girth than length, yet still it seemed almost too large for me to handle.

This time I thought briefly about what he was asking and I responded aptly and with a soft submissive tone. "I want you to fuck me daddy, whenever you want. I want you to treat me like the slut that I am. I want to feel your dick shooting cum deep inside me." His cock had begun to move in and out of me, slowly and deliberately while he groaned his enjoyment. Surprised with my own words I wondered if I really did want those things. For that very moment, with the way I felt, my words were all truth. I continued with more passion and conviction in my voice, "I want to be your fuck toy, your cum dumpster. You can do anything you want to me, daddy. I'm yours."

"Oh Fuck YES!" He groaned almost too loud. With his cock buried balls deep in me, he pushed on the small of my back with his left hand and pulled me from just under my chin with his right until my head rested on his shoulder. He held me in this mildly awkward position with my feet clear off the ground. The base of my flat firm tummy rested on the edge of the counter and his lips met my neck. He pumped his cock once and I felt it, expertly he had a direct hit on my elusive g-spot. He began to thrust into me in earnest. I found myself grunting uncontrollably with each thrust and a lascivious guttural pleasure quickly building from somewhere deep in my gut. Dad was grunting into my neck as he sucked the erogenous area of skin into his mouth.

In a moments time the pleasure overwhelmed me and I had my first internal orgasm. It was incredible yet insatiable. With each pulse of pleasure a short stream of piss burst from me unrestrained. Wetness cascaded down my legs while unearthly groans escaped my lips. My father cupped his hand over my mouth to muffle the noise as my pussy clamped up around his cock with a mind of its own seemingly tugging it deeper into me. The sensation spread from deep inside me to eventually encompass my whole body. This feeling of explosive orgasmic ecstasy made me giddy and giggly. It was new to me and much different than any other orgasm I've had before. Then I felt it fading, subsiding back from where it came. "More," my voice was scruffy and horse, halfway between moan and audible speech. I begged him, "Please more! Please!" Daddy never stopped and just as the first orgasm ended I felt another one brewing. It took hold of my senses faster than I expected and quickly overpowered me. Luckily dad held me firmly in position as he thrust his cock into my contracting pussy otherwise I would surely have fallen. Those blissful contractions combined with a glorious loss of control loosened my bladder once more as little spurts of piss washed down my legs each time my body tensed. Never had I orgasm so powerfully that I lost control of my bladder like this. It was oddly liberating, but had it happened with a guy I did not know as well as dad, embarrassment would have engrossed me. As my second orgasm came to an end and my convulsions dwindled I suddenly felt light headed and deathly out of breath. I realized I had been holding my breath since I begged daddy for more orgasm.