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For Me

By: Caesar



Sheba baby, Sheba baby come along with me and let me taste a little bit of your ecstasy. Sweet lemon, foxy brown tell me what you know. Let me make you feel a bit of my chocolate flow. I'll wash and rub your feet and gently rub your toes and massage you in ways that you've never known. I'll rub your body good, I'll rub your body right to let your mind unwind without your body being tight. I'll start with the steam and run a tub for you of hot water and baby oil and serve you passion fruit while you baste in rose petals and sip on Chardonnay and relax while listening to Maze - "Golden Time Of Day". Then I'll dry your body off and let you inhale the smell of the roses that form the slinky trail to the dining room table from which you'll see a bottle of Mumms and candlelight for you and me.

I'll adorn your tender frame in perfumes and oils and marinate your lovely essence with a special vile of sensual imagination that exists in my mind, which I will impart to you as we begin to dine. I'll clothe you in silk and softly kiss your neck so I can fully inhale the scent of loveliness and nibble on your ear to send you a sign that greatness is to come so baby take your time. I'll feed you, feel you, rub you, touch you, lick you, bite you and do whatever it takes to excite you and when you finally get ready to slip off your robe I'll begin to please you and suck on your toes. I'll take my time and tickle every one and make sure that none misses all of the fun. Then I'll lick up your calf and begin to rap my tongue back and forth behind your kneecap. I wish to tickle your fancy after I've sucked on your toes and leave you trembling with such desire that your body rolls all over me as I slowly move up your leg while tickling and teasing to make you beg; to make your imagination roam to the tip of ecstasy; to make your body churn emitting loads of heat on me; to make you grind and moan until you say enough while allowing me to wear your legs like ear muffs.

There is something about the way in which you feel. So soft, so tender while your trembling still sends waves of immense rhythms flowing through your loins and causing me to journey upward towards your other joints. I'll take your fingers in my mouth and tickle them lightly while my hand begins to roam to find its way inside you. I'll lightly brush across your sprout with the tip of my tongue and devour your lovely breasts until you're forced to long for a taste of my lips since they were seasoned so nice by your tasty body so warm, so right. A delight are you from your head to your toes and I know that it is the time to go for what we know.

As I remove my hand from your sweet and sacred place I begin to tease you with Solomon at a slow pace. Desirous and hungry and wet is your silky mood. You whisper "take me now" and I comply with the rule. A methodical pound and pound, a forceful grind or two, up and down, side to side, and some tongue for you, a rhythmic pound and pound and several power shots allow me to protrude and reach the magic spot. A steady pound and pound, several forceful grinds flowing in sweet rhythms and bringing joy divine to your faithful breasts who suggest that I bless them, grab them, taste them and hold them and suck them. Working them best with your arched back at its crest, I endure for a creature so demure and attest to the erotic tones of your deep moans and soft screams - purely melodious and powerful like torrents of mighty streams.

Bucking up and down and filled with wild desire as the flow we indulge further lights our fires. Despite the bodily fluids that emerge from our loins, our flames cannot be doused as we continue to join; as the passion inside you begins to build and grow; as our motions move faster to increase the flow; as my force, your power and desire continue to mount; I churn harder and deeper until your body rings out to release the beast that resides inside you calling for more as I continue to provide for you; steadily rising to reach the pinnacle of passion as your squeezing and moaning emits the natural reaction to the pounds of our motion and caress of my lips; to the grip of my hands on you thighs and your hips; to the grinds of our bodies and our emotional demands as you feel the strength and power of a natural man. As you taste the drops of essence falling from my loins and as you smell the sweet aroma of our immaculate joining; as the tones of sensual joy are heard throughout these measures you see our bodies and souls intertwined in pleasure.

There is something about the way in which you glare as your eyes and mine join in an erotic stare. My hands caress your body as my thoughts caress your mind and our looks flow through the pleasures we've experienced this night. I've tasted you, licked you, melted you and kissed you, rubbed you, grinded you, fed you and guided you, wet you, pet you and gently erected your nipples, stimulated you, ate you and loved you to the pinnacle; aroused you and brought you to the brink of pleasure which occurred to disturb all monotonous measures. Release and set free those waves of sensuality; hold back no more and let me control your body; give yourself to me and let our minds be free. Release my dear, release for me.

For Me



I want you on your knees. That's right, kneel before me. 

Let me covet you with my eyes. You are beautiful. You are living art, a model for all womanhood to envy. Your hair styled up, your makeup done to perfection, with dark eye makeup and dark lipstick. Your lips look so wet and so pouty, so inviting. Your eyes are beaming past the dark makeup. Loose pieces of your hair hang down onto the soft skin of your collar bone. 

Your neck is long and graceful, adorned by a beadwork necklace; your shoulders look soft and delicate. Your torso is compressed into a black satin corset, Victorian in style, heavily boned. The satin decorated in floral pattern. The lacing crisscrossing it way up your back. Your waist compressed. Your breasts being pushed up. The soft flesh spilling over the tops of cups. Offering me the tops of your perfectly formed breasts as a gift. 

Your hips and ass spreading from the bottom of the corset, so feminine, so feline, so sexy, the gentle angles, the curve of your back, your ass so nicely framed by the garter straps. I follow the garters and feast upon the dark bands of the full fashion nylons that sheath your legs. Your ass is resting on the backs of your thighs and your hands are placed passively in front of you hiding your smooth, clean, freshly shaved pussy and resting on the tops of your thighs. The contrast of your skin and the dark nylon excites me. 

I follow your nylon clad legs to the black pumps that cover your feet. I know you hate high heels shoes, but this is not for you it is for me and I can not help for follow the shiny black leather all the way to the points of your toes. I want to see you stand to see how the pencil thin heels form your legs, and to see how you balance your self to watch your tits and your ass pushing out in different directions. 

Soon enough, my dear, soon enough. I walk around you absorbing you, drinking you in. Filling my mind with every detail in your makeup, your lingerie, your posture. God, you are perfect.

I can not help touching myself through my jeans. My hand keeps drifting to my cock and the denim from my jeans feels rough compared to the skin of my cock, but at some strange level if feels so good. I finish walking around you and I am standing directly in front of you. My crotch in line with your perfect mouth.

Standing there I reach for my cock and slowly pull down the zipper of my jeans. I reach inside and soon so soon I pull the head of my cock out through my fly. I stroke my hard cock, coveting the beauty at my boot clad feet. I stop for a moment and I licked my finger and thumb and I notice that as I do that you instant response is to lick your lips. 

Consciously I wrapped them around my cock where my head meets my shaft and slowly pull my cock up and down, wanting to cum, not wanting to cum, not wanting to end the erotic scene that is unfolding between us. You are watching as the meat of my cock is pulled up to the head and then down to the shaft, watching as the eye of my cock opens up and produces a single bead of cum. I leave it there and you lick your lips again as it rolls off combining itself with my spit and helps lube my fingers.

I nod and you start to touch yourself. Up on your knees in front of me and you are busying yourself with your hand buried very deeply in you wet pussy. I see from the angle of your legs that your pussy must be wide open and as your hand moves I can hear the wetness from between your lips. I move closer to you and your reach up with your free hand to help me in my efforts but I shake my head and you pout a bit but continue to stare at my cock and the work out that I am giving it.

You are on your knees so close that every now and then the head of my cock touches your lips as I stroke it. You open your beautiful mouth to catch the beads of cum as they roll off the head of my cock you also ready yourself for the moment of impact when I have jerked myself beyond the point of no return and will grab the back of your head and impale your face on my cock and fill it with my cum.

I am entranced by your perfect body stretched out behind you. How feline you look. Your own hand playing with your pussy. I love hearing the sounds your fingers are making in that pussy. I replay each time I have jerked you off in my mind, I recall how your clit feels under the pressure of my finger, how each nerve dances at my touch, how slick your skin feels when it is this wet. I shudder but I fight the urge to cum. 

And with these thoughts I continue to slowly stoked my cock, I feel my cum building inside it and when the next pearl produces itself I take my finger and wiped it up and place it in your mouth. You suck my finger hungrily and I can tell you are getting close as well. I want to time this right. I want us to cum together. I tell you I am getting close and I squeeze my cock just a little harder trying to prevent it.

I order you to cum for me, to crack that nut, to cum for me. I am pleading with you to cum for me. I need it. Look at me let me watch your eyes as you cum, let me see your rebirth as you cum. As you start to shake your way into orgasm I loosen up the grip on my cock and my cum sprays over you tits and chin, your hair, and tongue bathing you, baptizing you, making you as mine.



For Me, She Says, and Not for Him



There she is, a languid Sunday afternoon and he’s coming over, the man she met last night who made her drop her inhibitions in the house of the woman who’s birthday they were celebrating, where she kissed him hard, straight, full on, no holding back, not caring that her friends were peering in from the sidelines, not caring that they were in the way of guests trying to grab another beer from the fridge, not caring about the thump-thump-thump of the music coming at them from the overhead speakers. No, there wasn’t much to keep her from reaching towards his mouth and wrapping her arms around the full, gorgeous span of his back, no real sandbagging effort on her part to control what was the first animalistic urge she’d had in months, she was so fucking grateful she still had it in her, that something had been bubbling all along, quiet as a quiche approaching finish. Because there was a heat there in the kitchen, all hers, unmistakable, mitigated by nothing, decorumless, and thank goodness for such pheromone precision. 

And of course he didn’t seem to mind at all that she’d turned primitive right there on the linoleum floor, in the high-wattage, faintly zinging fluorescence of that woman’s kitchen, didn’t seem to care that she, with nary a warning signal save the swiftest of flirtations, launched into him hungry and unapologetic, extracting a kiss she hadn’t quite gotten permission for, then a tongue, but then hey, no protest at all as the tango between them unfolded among the Black & Decker appliances. She had her back against the Magnetic Poetry on the fridge door, his 6'5"” frame an impervious blockade of noise and stares and they made out like a couple of teenagers, undistractable, everything above the belt but just, hips close though, close enough for her to feel his rising erection, close enough to feel that she was already wet, cunt slippery and solicitous. 

Later, she drove him back to his apartment, and God let me tell you it would not have taken much to lead her in, no, not much, it was difficult enough with her car straddling his driveway and the engine sputtering a “please park me I’m done for the night” but something told her to wait, that time-sensitive, health-respecting conscience of hers probably, always lying dormant wouldn’t you know it until it was time to revisit all the sex ed literature she’d gathered since high school, and it wasn’t much of a surprise, really, it was always like this when it came to fucking, she could never just do it, too many rules one had to follow these days. And so her goodbyes stayed in the car, her mouth sore already from kissing, and then there was a very sensible “Why don’t we meet up tomorrow afternoon?” and he agreed, said “How ‘bout 3” and of course she liked that even more, capping her evening on a high like that, thighs quivering, him ready for anything else she might have wanted to spring on him, but acquiescent, not pushing, a good boy.  And her wanting, oddly enough, now that the initial buzz had cleared a bit, to go to bed alone and dream a little less abstractedly about fucking someone again.

Once home and under her covers, she thought she’d sleep in the heat and sprawl of a woman getting herself ready for sex, body pancaked on the mattress, mind wild with possibility. An urgency, an impatience. It had been months since her last legitimate fuck but who’s counting, who’s doing the math, she was done with that, it wasn’t like there was some universal metronome she was supposed to keep time to, no, it didn’t work like that, not for her, it was more like earthquakes, yeah, a seismic surprise shaking the dishes at some unexpected hour, rattling the cabinets. And yet, a hesitation now, waiting for sleep to come. What if this wasn’t it after all? Who knows who this guy turns out to be, and what if that was all she wrote, messy makeout session in the kitchen, no tomorrow after all, that “3 o’clock” some phantom promise? oh, God don’t let this be, don’t let this be it. She didn’t want to keep track, no, didn’t want to think how a season had passed, that’s right a whole season, and nothin’ much goin’ on down there, no sirree, and dear God am I breaking some kind of record here? She didn’t know how to hope for sex without being a little conservative, oddsmaker that she was. And so she fell asleep a little uncertainly, wishing she could abandon herself to the cinematography of her desire, not quite knowing how to clear the psychosexual decks and begin again, unsullied by her own censors.

Then, before she knows it, it’s 3 p.m., Sunday, and the doorbell rings. It’s him, he’s here, exactly when he said he’d be. And when she lets him in, and after they kiss each other’s cheeks, exchange pleasantries, she doesn’t want to waste another minute thinking about the rules of attraction, the protocols of behavior she’s so aware have been keeping her sidelined, doesn’t want to listen anymore to the voices inside her saying no just to hear themselves, and so she leads him brazenly up the stairs to where her room is, leads him to her featherbed mattress and the mountain of pillows and the hazy, subversive-feeling sexiness of an August Sunday afternoon.

But she doesn’t rip his clothes off, no, they start off slow instead, real slow, the best kind of slow. A kiss, gentle, to his eyelids. A careful trace of her hip. Movements so slow her eyes flutter into a kind of half-sleep, and her body millimeter by millimeter begins to feel its own architecture. She is spooned into him, now, having curved herself into two, he is just barely grazing her breasts from behind, the fabric of them at least, her shirt’s still on, and somehow he intuits that place on the back of her neck she never tells anyone about, intuits the hidden gear shift there and kisses it, and the skin of her stomach goose pimples, the backs of her knees start sweating, and then her hips are buzzing like the bulbs in that kitchen last night, her ass arching involuntarily in the direction of whatever’s lying beneath the safety of his buckled jeans.

It is an hour of this at least, an hour of this subsonic tingle and jitter, of his mouth and hands proffering their butterfly kisses, and her vibrating just enough to let him know he shouldn’t stop, or slow, or speed, or change direction. And of course she wants this, wants this more than he could know, she’s so ready, wet and so utterly fuckable by now you wouldn’t believe, mind gone, just body, just body now, just a body arcing itself towards pleasure and the gratuity of release. And though she could stay like this for so much longer, it’s that good, could stay shimmying to the whispers of his attention, something inside of her bucks a little, grinds perceptibly, can’t help it, and then he’s saying something in her ear, she feels his cock against his jeans, against her backside, he’s asking “What can I do for you?” 

Oh my, what’s this, so generous he is, so attentive, so unselfish, so not “Oh baby, suck me hard,” no, none of that, none of those porn-influenced invectives she’s heard before that make her shudder, so ill-timed and misfired she wonders how anyone would have thought she’d cozy up to that? But no, all he says is “What can I do for you?” and somehow that throws her over some kind of irretrievable edge, she is so close to coming, now, so close without him even touching her down there, and something inside her squirms and spasms and she surprises herself by saying “Nothing, you don’t have to do a thing, just stay where you are” and instead she’s the one, she’s the one who snakes her right hand behind her, sneaks it under her pants, past her underwear, curls her fingers around the southern end of her cunt, dips her left hand to her front, finds her clit, the heartbeat of it all, and gets going.

And then she loses all track of him, loses the sensation of his touch against her nipples, loses the cock shape behind her, loses his voice, his hair, his arms, his chest, his frame against her, and she is for a moment, for that exquisite moment just before orgasm, entirely alone. Beautifully, exuberantly alone. Because she is rocking there, cupped into the cradle of her own hands, entwined, electric, impermeable, and her body forgets about the old order of things, forgets who’s supposed to do what and why and where and how, and it is just this, it is just her, she is riding this wave by herself, emblazoned with it, a luminescent wave-rider hurtling towards shore, and he pipes up, can’t help it, wants something of this she’s sure, he’s saying “Are you gonna come for me?” all eager timid schoolboy again and she knows it’s not for him, not for him exactly and certainly not for him entirely, she’s in charge now, for a kind of first time, and she wants it, and likes it, and she’s saying this as she plunges into the crescendo of her final ecstasy, soaring into the sweet, pointillated thrum of climax, “No baby, no,” she breathes. “I’m coming for me.”



For Melanie T



Author's note -- This is an open letter to a woman I greatly desire. It begins with our reality and then delves into our fantasy. I hope she chooses to read it, so that she understands the truth.

For Melanie T.

I won't lie and say that I desired you from the first moment we met, although it was close. When I first met you I thought you were cute, a little goofy and full of energy. Definitely not a bad thing. However, I never really got to talk to you much during the conference in Niagara Falls, so I never really got to know you at all.

Once we got back to our regular work lives, and were both working in the same office, I got to know you much better. It didn't take long after that to feel my desire build. There is just something about you that I find captivating. I'm sure you noticed that I would take any opportunity I could to roll my chair over to your desk, sitting close to you to discuss an issue. Hoping for the occasional accidental brushing of an arm or leg.

We talked; I listened and asked questions, getting you to open up to me. I wanted to understand you, trying to see if I could learn what it was that was drawing me to you. At the time I was living out of a hotel, having not relocated yet. You lived in town but were dying to get back to the city. I think that opened up some of the possibilities that would go through my mind.

The first time I came over to your place, to watch Survivor, it was both fun and torturous at the same time. I enjoyed talking with you, listening to you and just being next you. We sat close on the couch, our legs stretched out, touching. I knew at that point that I desired to be with you. When I went to leave, and we said goodbye at the door, we ended up talking for another 30 minutes or more. I lost track of the time.

All I know is that I wanted nothing more than to pull you close and kiss you deeply. Looking into your sharp blue eyes, seeing your slightly parted lips, the way you adjusted your hair behind your left ear. It pulled me in and made me want more. However, I didn't kiss you, well, we did hug goodnight and I kissed your forehead before I even realized what I was doing. And with that I left for the night.

It was a couple of weeks before I ended up at you place again. We had talked about getting together to watch survivor every Thursday, however, that never worked out. It was after your car accident coming back into town. I was thinking about you that weekend and I wanted to call you to say be careful driving back. I didn't. I think I was afraid of the thoughts I was having.

I was so relieved that you were not hurt in the accident, although I know just how shaken up you were. I wanted to hold you when I first saw you that day, to comfort you, to let you know everything was alright. I didn't. I can be very reserved when it comes to feelings and anything that may seem inappropriate. Given that we worked together, not to mention the fact that I'm married, it wouldn't have been proper. My feelings be damned.

I offered to come over and cook you dinner one night. I would have done it that night except my wife was in town. I said I'd come cook the next night. The following day, I was all set to cook you a great dinner. However, it would be delayed again. Our co-worker's church was having a pancake supper, so we went to that instead. It was a nice meal, just not what I had in mind.

After the dinner we went back to your place, you invited another co-worker as well. I instantly felt disappointed. And then happy again when he said no, he couldn't. We went back to your place to play Guitar Hero. We never did end up playing. We talked for a while, watch some TV, but you were tired. You still hadn't recovered from your scare with the accident. I understood and we went to say goodnight again.

As with before, we stood at the door for 30 minutes or more. Again I wanted nothing more that to lean in a kiss you deeply. Again, I didn't. I did commit to coming back the next night to cook you dinner. So with that I left a happy man.

The next evening after work, I stopped and picked up what I needed for the meal. I was excited and nervous, as if it was a first date. I got back to the hotel, showered and changed and then you called. You were running late and wanted to delay supper for an hour. That was fine, I was afraid you were going to cancel all together.

I finally arrived, I think before 7, and we got right into cooking. You made some nice tortilla chips and I got started on the pasta. I cooked and we talked and chatted. I can't remember half the stuff we discussed. I just remember enjoying my time with you. We ate, the meal was okay. I wasn't that happy with the result, but you said you enjoyed it so I was still happy.

After dinner we cleaned up and sat on the couch, talked a little more, watched some TV. Again it wasn't long before you were tired and needed to get some sleep. I knew you hadn't been sleeping well, so I understood. We went to say goodnight, and again, it was a long goodbye at the door. I do remember me saying something about not sleeping well at hotels and you said I could stay there. I wanted to say yes, instead I said, no, it wouldn't be a good idea as I still wouldn't get any sleep, just for a different reason. You laughed.

We hugged goodbye again, I had my hands full, so I put the stuff down and we hugged again. This time a little longer. We looked into each other eyes. I wanted to kiss you; I wanted to feel your lips pressed against mine. Instead, we broke the hug and I turned to leave. I opened the door and stopped. I let the door close, dropped my stuff again and hugged you once more. This time I leaned in to kiss you, hesitantly, slowly.

I could see that you wanted to kiss, that you wanted more, however, you stopped me. You said we couldn't and for all the right reasons. You didn't date people at work and the whole me being married thing. I knew the reasons why we shouldn't but the desire didn't go away. I said I understood, which I did, and I finally left. That would be the last time I was at your house for months.

Afterwards, I continued on with everyday life as if those feelings weren't there. They were easy to ignore, unless I was near you. I enjoyed our time together; even if it was just being in the same office. Not too long after our work relationship changed as well. I was now going to be supervising your work for one area. That added yet another reason to the list of why we shouldn't act on our feelings (at least I hope they are shared feelings).

Once you started to work in the city more often, I got to see you less and less. I still tried to talk to you (even if just on-line) every day. I knew I would be into the city on a regular basis to see how your work was going. I looked forward to those days. In particular lunch time.

Lunch is the one time we really get to talk, at least during the work day. The first lunch we went had you asked me if I thought about the last time I was at your house and that you hope it did create any awkward feelings. I wanted to tell you the truth, however, I just went with no, it didn't bother me. I enjoy the relationship we have and didn't want to damage it.

Shortly after that, another day on the way to lunch, you mentioned that you had met a new guy. My initial reaction was, I'm too late, I missed my chance. My second, almost as quick reaction was, good, I'm happy for you. Obviously I verbally expressed my second thought. Through our talks I knew what you were looking for and despite my sometimes selfish thoughts (thinking only of my desires); I know I can't offer you what you want, what you deserve, at least not any time soon.

I know that you want someone to share your life with, you want someone that appreciates you and what you have to offer, someone to love and to love you in return, someone to have a family with and someone you can just be yourself with. I know I'm not in a position to meet those needs, all I can offer, at the moment, is an affair. I know that's not fair to you, although it doesn't stop me from thinking about it or wanting it.

I could offer you some fun, some satisfaction, a way of dealing with some of your more personal needs. I'm sure it would be fun and exciting and passionate, however, I also know it wouldn't be complete. Again, it doesn't stop me from wanting it. But I'm a good responsible man, so I do the right thing, or maybe that's do what's expected of me.

Time moves on, we chat, you ask me about what guys mean when they do certain things, I want to lie and tell you something that will make you want to drop the new guy, I don't. I give an honest opinion, not wanting to cause any damage to what could be a good thing, while still being a friend and looking out for you.

Time moves on, we're having lunch. You tell me about your last encounter with the new guy. I'm furious inside, what the hell was the guy thinking. He's in a position I would love to be in and he throws it all away. It never ceases to amaze me how stupid some men can be. I'm happy with how you handled the situation, it increases my attraction to you, it builds on my feelings. The fact that you are single and available seems a cruel irony to me in many ways.

Time moves on, I'm at your house. Your plans are moving ahead to move permanently back to the city. It saddens me that you are leaving town, but it gives me an opportunity to come over to help out. I'll take advantage of anytime I can spend with you. We do work in the yard, you ask me in for a drink when we're done. Of course I say yes.

We talk, we chat, we relax. Our talk becomes more personal. I enjoy getting a chance to really know you. I ask about your relationship with an old boyfriend, some of what I heard before worried me. I'd hate to think he was taking advantage of you, or making you feel bad about yourself. I should've known I didn't need to worry. You are stronger than you think.

I ask about your relationship with your best friend, something mentioned at lunch previously intrigue me. How did you end up in a threesome with her? Ahh, the visions I had about that situation. I loved your response and how you handled it.

We're at the door again, saying goodbye. Again time drags on, 10, 20, 30 minutes. Finally I get the courage to say something I wanted to say before, when you asked me at lunch about the attempted kiss. I told you the truth. There was one thing I regretted about that night at your place, the fact that I hesitated. When I think about that night (and I still do on occasion), that's what gets me. It would be nice to act freely on my feelings, to not worry about the consequences of my actions, to just seize the moment.

Unfortunately, that's not who I am. I'm reserved, I think things through, I understand the repercussions of my actions before I act. That being said, I still tried to kiss you, but I think the right moment had passed. You say I shouldn't feel bad about it, or think about it that way. I said, I thought it was important that you know the truth. And that I understand all the reasons why we didn't. And that it didn't stop me from wanting it none the less.

That night there is no hug goodnight, you give me your hand. I'm not going to shake hands; I turn it and kiss the back of you hand. The feeling is grand. I say goodnight and leave, before I do something I'll really regret.

Time moves on, I'm at your house again. Someone's coming to see the place so I offer to help you get tidied up. I bring over some boxes, knowing you'll be leaving soon. We straighten up the house and move some things around. I help you go through old papers. We chat. Nothing exciting, yet at the same time thoroughly enjoyable.

I pick up a burgundy bag, without looking inside, I guess what it is. I hold the bag up and show it too you. You get a slight flush, and take the bag. Then you decide to show me what it is. You pull out the handcuffs first, I laugh, but I'm oddly not surprised. The anal beads and butt plug surprise me a bit more. You said you tried the beads but never the other. Anal play just isn't your thing.

We talk about the handcuffs a bit, you said you like them to spice things up but they haven't been used in a while. You talk about one time that your parents found them attached to the straps on your bed (you used to have two pairs). I laugh, although my mind is filled with very different thoughts. You show me the box that use to be your favorite toy and explained what happened to it. I can see the benefit of having a vibrator with a remote. And again how your parents found it. I laugh, but again my mind is filled with different thoughts.

I take the cuffs and put them around your wrist, I pause briefly about what I want to do next. I drop my first thought and instead connect the other half to my wrist. Joined together at last, just not quite the way I would have chosen first. The cuffs are quickly put away, probably for the best. We continue with our cleaning. I get up to move a couple bags of papers and other things (including your toys) upstairs. I pause, something just crossing my mind.

So, what's your new favorite toy? You flush slightly again, and get up to show me. You keep it in the bathroom downstairs. It's a realistic looking vibrating dildo. It feels very flesh like. You felt it was worth the extra money. I suggest you put it upstairs with the other items as people tend to open medicine cabinets when looking at a house. You hand me the box and I take it upstairs. I envy the toy as various thoughts race through my mind.

Eventually we go to say goodnight. The familiar pattern emerging. You mention that you feel naked from having told me so much about your self. I said that's not a bad thing, I like the thought of you naked. You flush slightly and dismiss the compliment. I say that you shouldn't, that you are quite attractive. I then decide to tell you something to even the score a little.

When talking about the cuffs earlier, I mentioned something about being tied up with shirts. I also mentioned that it wasn't with my wife. I didn't give you any sort of timeline though. At the door, I mentioned who it was with, and where. I talked a little bit about her. Your questions were all about where we did it while in China. I told you a few of the more exciting locations.

You felt better, not feeling as exposed. We say goodnight, you give me a hug. I look into your eyes. We hold it for what seems an eternity. I lean I to kiss you. No hesitation this time. You pull back, then move in again, before finally stopping me. Again we stopped for the right reasons; again I still wish we hadn't. I make sure that night that you know I'm not sorry I tried, and that I understood why we didn't.

You mentioned about a work romance that didn't go well, and how hard that was on you. I wanted to just tell you that one bad experience shouldn't stop you from exploring your feelings. I wanted to say I'm not that person. I didn't. I said I understood, which I did. I knew that I couldn't offer you everything you deserved, so I didn't try to break down your resistance. Instead I said goodnight and kissed you on the cheek, letting you know in advance. 

We hugged again before I left; I kissed your cheek again. I wanted to place my hands softly on you head, pull you into me and kiss you deeply, but I restrained my desires. I said goodnight and left. The next day we ate lunch together; we just sat in my office and ate. It was nice. No mention of the prior night, just two friends enjoying each others company.

Your showing didn't happen that night and you headed into the city. I was happy that my initial reaction was the appropriate one. I was disappointed for you as I know how badly you want to get back into town and that the house is what's holding you back. You can't really afford to maintain a house here and pay for an apartment in town. My second thought, which closely followed the first, was slightly more selfish.

I thought, good, at least it will give me more opportunities to go to your house to help out. More opportunities to spend time with you, away from work. I was a little ashamed of the second thought, but then again, I don't tend to place much value on my own feelings.

I can envision the next time I'm over to your place to help out. I can feel the tension, the desire. I can picture our conversation turning more personal, I ask you a pointed question. What do you use for mental stimulation while using your new favorite toy? Do you just imagine? Do you watch porn or look at pictures? Do you read erotic stories? I don't know what your response will be; regardless I suggest you go to literotica.com. It's a great site I say, it's what I use. Besides, that's where I post my stories. 

I suggest you look up stories by Lomar2. I tell you that if you read them, use the feedback option to send me a note, just include something in the note so I know its you. I want to know if you've read them. What I don't tell you is that this story will be there by the time you check it out (if you've chosen to check it out). I tell you to keep in mind that the stories are just that, stories. They're meant to arouse and excite, they're not true stories. I also tell you that some of the stories are of a potentially more offense nature, and just because I wrote them doesn't mean I would ever behave that way or would even think that way in real life. My comments intrigue you, I can tell.

What I never told you was how I agonized over whether or not to tell you about the site and my stories, for fear of what you may think. In the end I tell you. I figured they are what they are. Why hide something from you, if they offend you, they offend you. I want a reaction from you afterwards; it may as well be based on the truth. Anyway, I picture that next visit ending the same way as usual. A long conversation at the door; me wanting to kiss you deeply. We hug goodnight, it's a lingering hug. We look deeply into each others eyes. I lean in and kiss your cheek, then say goodnight.

I could have tried to kiss you again, this time you may not have stopped me. However, its already getting late and we just don't have the time for anything more than a kiss. Besides, I'm not sure I could take another "no, we can't". So I don't put you into a situation where you have to stop me. I drive home, wondering if you are going to check out my stories. Wondering if I'll get an e-mail from you.

There are many things I would like to tell you directly, many things I would like to show you and many things I would like us to experience together. Unfortunately, it would seem that it is highly unlikely those things will come to be. So instead of an unlikely reality, I want to take you through a fantasy. Consider it a look at what might be if our circumstances were different than what they are, or what could be if circumstances, or mindsets, change. 

In a perfect world, here's what would happen during my next visit to your house. This is what I've always imagined would happen; this is what I desire to happen. This is entirely about what I want to do to you, how I want to please you, to satisfy you.

I arrive at you house around 6:30, as we agreed. I'm slightly nervous and anxious, the same as usual. I'm happy to spend the time with you, and I've gotten better at keeping my desires in check. I've told myself that I will not make any further attempts to act on those desires. If something is to happen, you'll have to make the first move. I ring the door bell, I hear you coming, the door opens and I smile.

You answer the door wearing sweat pants and a tank top. The shirt highlights your breasts quite nicely. I take a look, making no move to conceal my gaze, yet I don't linger too long. "You look great, as usual" I comment as I enter the house. You smile but say nothing. You close the door behind me and lock it. You seem different, slightly nervous yourself.




For Melanie T



You slide by me as I'm taking off my shoes, your firm breasts brushing against my back. I feel a stirring in my pants, if only you knew what you did to me. You're standing in the doorway, looking at me, a slight smile on your lips. I smile back, you blush slightly. You reach out and grab my hand, and lead me into the living room. You've never done that before; my cock twitches again, starting to harden.

You turn to face me, still holding my hand. You step towards me and look up into my eyes. "I've changed my mind" you say, "please, kiss me." I don't hesitate at all, and for that I'm thankful. I place both hands softly on the side of you head and pull you in. My eyes never leave yours. Our lips meet, softly at first, almost as if we are testing a cup of coffee to ensure we don't get burned. The contact is electric, the feeling intense, and just right.

We pull apart slightly and then kiss deeply, clutching each other close. We kiss for several minutes, although it feels like both an eternity and a fleeting moment at the same time. When we finally break the kiss we are both breathing deeply, our eyes remain locked. We do not break our embrace though. You lean forward and place your head on my chest. I slowly caress your back.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time" you say softly, "I think I was just afraid of getting hurt again". I continue to rub your back softly, "I understand. I've wanted that kiss for quite awhile too. There's more that I want as well, however, that is entirely up to you." I don't ask why you changed your mind, and frankly I don't care. I'm just glad you did.

"I want more as well." You say slyly, a slight twinkle appears in your eyes. I kiss you again deeply, my hands roam a little lower this time and I caress your firm butt. Quickly, before you change you mind, I pick you up. You give a quick squeal at my unexpected move. I kiss you, softer this time, and carry you up the stairs. I'm careful not to bump you into anything on the narrow stairs, or going through the door to your bedroom. I'd hate to ruin the mood at this point.

I place you softly on the bed and move to close the window blinds. I return to the bed and caress your face before leaning in to kiss you again. This time I shift my kisses and work my way along your neck. You gasp and give a slight sigh; I appreciate the feedback and keep going. Despite my intense desire, now that we are moving forward, I'm able to be very patient. No sudden flurry of clothes being discarded, no hurried and animalistic fucking, surrendering to our base desires. The want is there but I want this first time to be something special. Something you won't forget. We can give into the base desires another time.

I continue to work my way around your neck, slowly, savoring each taste, drinking in your scent. My hands have been busy as well. They've never stopped caressing some part of you, but never going anywhere too, shall we say, sensitive? I stop my kissing and place my hand on the back of your head, raising you up to a sitting position. I caress your back and slowly work my way down to the bottom of you shirt. I grasp the tank top and start to lift, taking it slow, giving you the opportunity to stop. You smile and kiss me once before raising your arms.

I remove you shirt and let me gaze linger as your flesh is slowly exposed. I toss the shirt to the floor. You go to remove my shirt and I stop you, "there will be time for that later, for right now, I just want to enjoy you, please?" I ask softly, you nod yes; I smile and pull you close to me. I caress you now bare back and reach you bra clasp, I pop the clasp open and bring the straps forward with my hands. Brushing the sides of your breast slightly.

I lean you back and admire the stunning form before me. You blush under my gaze and move to cover up. "Don't" I say, "I want to take in this sight, it's so much better than what my imagination could come up with." I let me gaze linger, drinking in the breathtaking view before me. Finally I lean in and kiss you deeply again. My hands now caressing your naked flesh. My kisses leave you lips and work around your neck once more before slowly inching down towards your breasts.

I kiss softly between the valley of your breasts, down to you stomach, before tracing my way back up again. I start placing soft kisses all around your breasts, first one then the other. I'm working my way in towards your nipples. They are now hard and just begging to be sucked. I finally reach my first prize of the day and suck you left nipple into my mouth. I flick it gently with my tongue and you gasp, grabbing my head, hands gripping my hair.

I could spend an eternity there; however, there is still another nipple to taste. I kiss my way over to the right nipple, my hand now moving up to cup your left breast. I suck in the right nipple and pinch the left lightly with my fingers. I'm lost in the moment and work my way between your nipples, losing track of all time. I finally let go of your nipples and kiss my way back to your lips. You're breathing deeply as we kiss, our tongue twirling together.

I start kissing my way back down your body, pausing to taste your nipple once again, but now I'm focus on what I really want. I work my way down to your waist band and hook and slip my fingers inside, getting a firm grip. I look up at you and smile; you smile back and raise your hips. Seconds later you pants are on the floor with you shirt and bra. I skip over your panties for the moment and caress and kiss my way down your legs.

I stop before your feet; I know how sensitive you are. I kiss my way back up your legs, my eyes fixed on my ultimate goal. Your scent hits me as I work my way back up. It is intoxicating. My heart is pounding as I force myself to go slow. You only get one first time and I wasn't going to ruin it just to satisfy my own desires. I reach your panties; the lacey black material looks stunning. I kiss along the edges of the panties, first at the legs, then the waist.

I breathe in your scent deeply, savoring it. My head is swimming with devious images of the things I want to do, eventually. For now, I know what I want. I slowly caress around the edges of your panties, you squirm slightly under the touch, your breathing is hurried. I can tell part of you wants me to hurry, wants me to cave into the desire, but an equally strong part is savoring the sweet torture as well. I hook my fingers into the waist band of your panties; you raise your hips in response and say "yes, please". 

I pull your panties down and reveal my second prize of the day. I don't know what to expect exactly, I've had visions of you shaved bare, neatly trim and untouched and natural. Ultimately, it doesn't matter to me, I'm just thankful you've chosen to share it with me.

I toss your panties on the floor and sit up to better take in the full view before me. You are stunning. You blush beneath my gaze, feeling slightly embarrassed. I run my hands up and down your naked flesh, circling your breasts and tracing the triangle at the top of your legs. "You are truly beautiful you know" I whisper as I lean down to kiss you deeply, "I want to know if you trust me" I ask softly, my hands still roaming, feeling, caressing.

"Yes, I trust you" you say with a smile. I smile back. I get up and grab a small burgundy bag from the closet, right where I placed it a few weeks back. Your smile grows even wider. I pull the handcuffs out and click them over one wrist, then gently lifting your arms up, put them behind the curved headboard and secure it to the other wrist. "It's too bad you never found the other pair" I comment as I stood up. I go to your closet and thankfully find what I was looking for quickly. I returned to the bed with a man's tie. You've worn it to work a couple of times, with devastating effect on me.

I lift your head and cover your eyes with the tie, securing it before lowering your head with a gently kiss. I ask if it too tight, you smile and say no. Perfect, now the fun can begin. I kiss your lips softly, then with increasing passion. I work my way down to your breasts again, licking and sucking the nipples with the hunger of a starving man. Your breathing is getting faster, shallower. I move my hand down and cup your pussy. Massaging it gently but not penetrating at all.

You breath catches at the first contact then picks up again. I let my fingers start exploring your folds as I continue to feast on your nipples. Finally I let a finger slip into you. You gasp loudly and give a small quiver as a tiny orgasm runs through you. You are hot and tight and dripping wet, just as I hoped. I finally leave your breasts and move downwards, trailing my tongue down over your stomach, tasting the light sheen of sweat, savoring every minute.

I finally reach my prize and drink in the sight. I breathe deeply before leaning in to kiss you softly on the lips. You gasp again at the contact. Using my lips I pull your folds apart, exposing your sweet inner flesh. I extend my tongue and get my first taste. I'm in heaven. I love the taste of a woman, it is something to savor, to enjoy, something to drink in and cherish for it is not easily given.

I lick again, exploring your most secret places. Your breathing has sped up. I figured that you would not last long the first time through, not with all the stimulation you've been experiencing. I place my fingers at the top of your pussy to spread the lips apart. I see your clit exposed to me, begging to be sucked. I lick around it; I lick down to your opening and push my tongue inside, letting your juices flow over me.

I move back up and circle your clit again. I position two fingers from my other hand at your opening and push them inside at the same time I suck your clit hard into my mouth. A scream escapes your lips as your climax hits. I continue to suck and continue to push my fingers in, building your orgasm until it finally crests. You lift yourself up off the bed and let one long scream out before dropping back down, your breaths coming quickly, your body bathed in sweat. I ease my fingers from your still quivering pussy, causing you to shiver once more. I slowly ease back my sucking, finally releasing your clit from my lips.

You are still breathing hard as I kiss my way back up, pausing to suck in each nipple before reaching your lips and kissing you deeply. You taste yourself on my lips. "Oh my god" is all you say. I smile and untie your makeshift blindfold. I look deep into your eyes and bring my now two favorite fingers to my lips; I suck the juices off them and smile. "I can't tell you just how much I enjoyed that," I said as I reached up to undo your handcuffs. You stretch out before pulling me down for a kiss. Its then that you realize I am still fully dressed.

"I think its time we evened things up a little, don't you?" You smile and start to unbutton my shirt. I grab your hands briefly before letting you continue. Women aren't the only ones that have body issues. I'm nervous as you undo my shirt, your hands then move to my belt and you quickly unbuckle it and undo my pants. I try to act calm, but I worry about what you'll think once you see me nude. I think I have a lower opinion of my body than I do my feelings.

Don't get me wrong, its not like I have any big defects or horrible features, I just don't think much of my appearance. It always makes me nervous, especially in this sort of situation. You grab the bottom of my shirt and I raise my arms, you quickly pull it over my head. If you wanted a smooth chest and six pack abs, then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. I'm not in bad shape but you won't see me in a men's fitness magazine anytime soon.

You run your fingers through my chest hair and smile. You lean in to kiss me, and then you start kissing down towards my chest. You coax my nipples out and lick and suck them gently. I give a light moan, the sensation are just traveling downwards to my dick, making it throb even more. You reach down and cup my balls, rubbing lightly as you continue to lick my nipples.

You sit up on your knees and lean me back on the bed. You grasp the tops of my pants and underwear and start to pull them down. I hesitate a moment before I lift my hips. Finally I lay there exposed to you. If you were expecting porn star size, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. Again, its not that I'm small, it's just that I'm probably average. The one thing I know I am is hard and dying to be inside you.

It's my turn to feel slightly embarrassed as your gaze takes me in from head to toe. You bend down to kiss me; I grab a hold of your head and kiss you for all I'm worth. One of your hands reaches down and wraps around my throbbing dick. I let a hand wander over you back and slowly towards your ass. I cup one cheek and squeeze lightly. You break the kiss and suddenly swing yourself around.

I stare up at the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I lift my head the taste you for the second time that evening. I feel your breath, hot against the flesh of my cock. Finally, you suck me in. The feeling is beyond description. I let myself savor the sensation for a moment before returning my attention where it belongs.

I focus on you pussy, licking and sucking, trying to keep the sensation going as long as I can. Finally, to my surprise, you release my cock and let out a scream as another orgasm overtakes you. Your juices gush from your pussy and I greedily take them all in. I didn't think I would outlast you, I don't think you expected it either. I figure out the reason though. As much as I would've loved to cum, it wasn't how I wanted the first time to go.

Once you calm down, I roll you over and turned myself around so I can look into your eyes. "Thank-you for that, it was fantastic. But I really want to be in you." You smile and tell me there are condoms in the bedside table. I reached over, opened the drawer and grab one. You take it from me, opened the package, and put it over my dick. I find the act incredibly sexy; I've never had a woman put the condom on me before.

I roll you over on your back and position myself between your legs. I look deep into your eyes and I slide slowly into you. The sensation is beyond compare. I push all the way in and hold it there for a minute, almost afraid that if I move right away I'd cum and it'd be over. I kiss you deeply and begin to thrust into you. Finally, after holding back for most of the night, I decide to give into my desires. My pace increases, I start thrusting harder and harder. "Yes, as hard as you can, give it all to me" you say. I pause and shift upwards onto my knees.

I bring your legs forwards and start thrusting again, harder and deeper than before. I move my hands to your breasts as I continue to pound into you. I grip them firmly, pinching the nipples. You gasp as your breathing picks up. I free one hand and move it downwards; reaching your clit I start to rub. It's not an easy angle to get at but my thrusting never lets up. Your breathing picks up even more.

You start to mutter, "oh god, oh god" as I continue to drive into you with everything I have. Finally I feel your muscles contract around me, you let out a high pitch scream, almost silent, as another orgasm hits you. Your climax triggers my own. I push as deep into you as I can and hold it there, letting the orgasm wash over me. Every nerve in my body is tingling; I let out a primal scream of my own as I fill the condom with every ounce of cum in me.

After what seems an eternity I collapse, keeping enough weight on my arms to avoid dropping on you completely. You wrap your legs around me and kiss me deeply, with more passion than I've ever known. After several minutes we turn onto our sides. I pull out of you, reluctantly and remove the filled condom. I get up and go to the washroom to dispose of it. When I return to bed you are under the covers. I slide in next to you and hold you tight. 

I would love to say that we cuddle up together and fall into a peaceful sleep, waking several hours later to enjoy each other once again. This time forgoing the preliminaries and just jumping right to the main event. I would love to say that we wake with the alarm in the morning and have a quick bit of fun in the shower before heading out to work. I would love to say that we continue to explore our relationship and our feelings; that we get to see where they lead us. Unfortunately the fantasy ends there, reality always wins out in the end.

We lay there for a few moments, the clock radio staring at me saying it is almost 10:00. I would love to stay the night, would love to stay and talk about what we do next. I can't. I get dressed slowly, very aware of your eyes on me. I go to the wash room and get freshened up. I think about doing what every cheating married man does, wash away his lover's scent. I don't. I don't want to remove your scent, I want to savor it.

I come back to the bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed. You look sad. I lean down to kiss you, I say that I don't want to leave, however, I have too. I say we need to talk as soon as we can. You agree, and pull me down for one more kiss. I get up and walk from the bedroom. I show myself out. For once there is no long goodbye at the door.

I don't know what will happen when I get home. Will me wife call me out right away or will she just chose to ignore the evidence that is right in front of her? What about you? How will you react now that we've crossed that line? These things and a million others are racing through my mind as I drive home. All I know for sure is that I don't want to give you up. However, even in my fantasies I can't escape my more responsible nature.

What happens the next day at work when we see each other? Do we see each other again out side of work? Do we continue the affair while we can? Do we let it go at the one time satisfying of desires? So many questions that need to be answered, so many feelings that need to be addressed. I don't know where we would go from here. All I know is I'd love to be brave enough to find out how we'd handle it. In the mean time, I'll let my imagination run free; free of responsibilities, free of consequences and free of inhibitions. I hope you do as well.



For Melissa



"You ready for this?"

"Ye.. yeah. I am."

"You sure? I'm not going to go easy on you."

"I'm sure."

"I told you, I don't do safety words. Once you've consented I'm not stopping until I'm done. This is your last chance to back out."

She tilted her chin up a bit. Stared him in the eye. Said nothing.

Gruffly, he grabbed her by the shirt, pulled her to him. Forced her to face away from him. Couldn't see, but she could hear him rummaging through something. A hand moved up her back and held her steady as another started fitting something around her neck. Leather? A collar. With intricate metal links leading to a strap held firmly in his hand. She was thrilled, and terrified. What the fuck was wrong with her? She was so turned on.

He turned her back around, facing him.

"Drink this."

A glass of water, as far as she could tell. Knowing protesting would be futile, she drank it.

"I have a rule. You don't come without permission. Understand?"

"Yes"

The chain went taut as he yanked her to him by the strap, pulled her face right into his. His eyes were on fire with rage. He stared, expecting something.

"Ye... Yes, sir"

The rage died a bit.

"Better," he said.

He started to walk down the hallway and she could follow or be dragged. She followed. As he led her down the hallway, through a door, and down stairs to some sort of basement, she realized she felt sort of funny. No, not funny. Hungry. Hungry with a sexual avarice beyond anything she'd ever experienced. Her soft, cotton panties were drenched. She could even swear her breasts were swelling. What was going on? Christ, why wasn't he fucking her already?

She reached out to feel the curve of his hip, to pull him into her. As soon as the tips of her fingers slipped under his shirt he spun around, her wrist in his grip. That enraged look was back, staring right into her.

"Did I say you could do that?"

She bit her lip, afraid.

"No," she breathed.

His grip tightened painfully.

"No, sir!" she blurted.

"You don't seem to understand how this works. From now until I am finished, your body is not your own. That hand that touched me is not your own. It's mine. And unless I want it somewhere, it's not there. Understand?"

"Yes, sir, I do. I'm just so... Christ, I don't know, I want..."

"That's the problem," he interrupted. " 'I want.' What you want isn't important."

Being more forceful with the leash than seemed necessary, he pulled her into the basement. It was dimly lit, but clearly he'd prepared this room for tonight. 

The walls were covered with tools and toys and devices she couldn't quite make out. In the center of the room was... a chair? An odd chair. Like a modified dentist's chair. 

Fuck! What was wrong with her? She wanted him to tear her apart. Her loins were on fire! Such willpower to keep from putting his hands where she wanted them. She'd never been so insatiable so quickly.

He grabbed her by the hips, was about to force her into the chair, but paused. Something about her caught his eyes. He looked into hers and... smiled? She didn't expect that. There was mischief in that smile. He pulled her into him, one hand pulling the leash taut, the other wrapping its way about the back of her neck. She exploded as his lips vigorously met with hers, his tongue exploring, twirling, diving. Breath was rushing in and out of her nose. She'd come! Oh fuck, what was happening? She'd just come violently from nothing more than a forceful, passionate kiss.

He pushed her away from him. Staring at her, his features were an odd mixture of rage, amusement, and lust.

"When did I give you permission to come?"

She looked at him pleadingly, unsure what to say.

"When?" he said more firmly.

"You didn't, sir..." She couldn't meet his eyes.

Abruptly, he dragged her across the room by the leash, sat in a sturdy wooden chair, and had her across his lap before she knew what happened. Skirt and panties were ripped off in one swift, deft motion.

Pain! Followed closely by the reverberating echo of the sound of leather on flesh. 

"Pleas..." she couldn't get anything else out as the next lash forced a scream and with it went all of her breath. 

She squirmed, but he had such easy strength. His grip tightened as he continued lashing away at her.

The only thing more intense than the pain was how insatiably aroused she was. She thought she might come again. She couldn't bother wondering why she was so inhumanly horny, she was pouring all her focus into preventing another indiscretion. 

The lashing was merciless. Her flesh had to be a terrible hue of red. Her nethers were drenched. She tried not to think of how hard he was through his jeans. Fuck! Goddammit she wanted him in her.

He stopped. Surely nothing has ever been so relieving as the cool air brushing against her skin.

"Perhaps you've learned your lesson."

Be stood her up, led her by the collar to the odd chair in the center of the room. With unsettling ease he lifted her into it, pulled her legs apart, and latched them to stirrups on either side of the odd chair. Having no more need for it, he removed the collar. Next her hands were lifted and tied to something she couldn't see, holding them firmly above her head. Her eyes widened with fear as he bared a blade. With astounding care, he cut through her shirt. Shortly, shirt, bra, and blade were discarded. She was completely bared for him to enjoy. Her loins were pulsing with lust.

"Time for some fun," he smiled. He peeled off his clothes, tossed them to the side.

A finger traced down her forehead, across her neck, over her breast, down her stomach... oh, no no no... she can't possibly take this. The finger became a hand, sliding firmly along her inner thigh. She was terrified the mere heat of his hand would set her off. He moved to stand between her legs, grabbing her hips with both hands. The hands worked their way down to her quivering legs, all the way to the constraints across her ankles, and then back up. With vigor, he caressed her inner thighs. Her body's lubricant was dripping onto the chair, flowing over the edge, dripping onto the floor.

She was so intoxicated with ecstasy that she hadn't noticed him pulling out a string of beads. Beads that got progressively bigger. He smiled that mischief-filled smile and traced the beads between her legs. How she didn't explode immediately, she has no idea. The beads were covered in her fluids. He toyed with her, tracing the beads up and down her crotch. Up. Down. Up. Down. And then, further down. Oh God, she'd never had anything up her ass! Fuck, what was he doing!? Was he... oh fuck, he is! No, no, not there, wha... 

The first bead went up inside her. 

It felt. It felt so illicit, so wrong... so fucking arousing. 

She was moaning furiously, pitifully. He worked the next bead in, slowly he was feeding bead after bead into her. The pressure. There was some pain, but the pressure. Christ it felt amazing. Her muscles were contracting, convulsing. His lips and tongue were hungrily enjoying her thighs, the curve of her ass, the crevice where leg met crotch, yet carefully avoiding her pulsating lips that were so very hungry for him. 

Fuck, he was driving her insane, his breath working its way inside her, his hands working the beads in, out. She pulled her wrists against their binding, wanting desperately to touch herself. God she needed to come, she had to come, she was drenched, his mouth so warm, the beads moving in and out, in, out, the pressure, fuck... she's... oh God she can't. How could she? He's not even in her, not even touching her where she so desperately wants. He works a rather large bead out of her. It presses against something inside her and she erupts. 

"Uh, oh, fu... fuck... aaaa... uuuuhhhh.... aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAA" her moaning builds into a scream as her legs convulse violently against their constraints. She bucks her hips, arches her back. Her whole body is on fire, every part of her is shaking, filled with sensation.

He shoots up from his crouching position. His eyes are insane with rage and lust.

"When?! When did I give you permission to do that?!" 

He was livid.

"Please, I, I couldn't---"

"Save it!"

He looked dangerous. He stormed away from her, paced the room a few times, attempting to hold his rage in check.

He walked back in between her legs, staring at her intently. The smile on his face was terrifying.

"Pain doesn't seem to teach you anything. Let's give pleasure a try!"

His cock exploded into her. He used the stirrups to push her legs up and out, hooked his hands under her thighs, and began thrusting into her with insatiable lust. She came immediately. How was this possible? Fuck, what was wrong with her? Dammit why won't he fuck her harder?

She noticed drops of sweat tracing his body, down his chest, his abs. She watched helplessly as his hips rhythmically pulsed, thrusting himself in and out of her. She could still feel the beads up inside of her. The combination of pressures was euphoric. Again, fuck, she's coming again.

"Please, sir, please, I ca... ohhhhhh... fuck...." again "plea.... I can't....." again "oh god dammit... fuck me harder!" What, no, not harder! She can't take this! She's drenched in sweat, her chest is heaving as she fights for oxygen. He's continuing to animalistically thrust himself into her. Why does she keep thinking of the feeling of his balls slapping against her? Christ that's hot. His grip on her thighs tightens. He's hammering into her with desperate hunger. 

Again. She's coming again. Her body can't possibly take this. She's never come so much. She's exhausted yet hungry for more.

"Sir, aaa, a break, please, I ca... ohhhhhh fuck...... aaaaaaaa" he picks up speed. He's thrusting faster, harder, with vigor and purpose. A guttural moan explodes from his vocal cords. His fluids gush into her. She can feel him convulsing inside her. Stream after stream after stream. He's moaning uncontrollably. 

Violently, she explodes right along with him. Legs shaking, hips bucking.

Breathing.

Breathing. 

All she can hear is breathing. His and hers. She can't possibly open her eyes. Too much stimulation, the light. Just breathe. Just focus on breathing. Her entire body is surging with post-coital ecstasy. Gently, he slides out of her, slides the beads out of her. Breathe. Nice, deep, calm breaths. No drug could ever be this good. She swears she can still feel her uncountable orgasms reverberating through her body.

Eyes still closed, she feels him undo the various constraints. An arm slides under her knees, another loops under her shoulders. He lifts her off the chair. She wraps her arms around his neck, holding on. Such an odd mix of danger and gentle affection, this man. Eyes still closed, she's lowered into a divinely soft bed. A weight falls into the bed beside her. Strong arms envelop her, caress her. Her head light with ecstasy and security, consciousness wavers, flickers, and finally fades away...



For Men



The sky is dark and the rain is coming down hard.  You come home from a busy day at the shop to see that I have the house all picked up and candles everywhere.  The only source of light is from the candles.  There is a bottle of wine and two glasses in beside the bed.  

I see you pull up in the car and wait for you to come in.  Even though its close you are soaked by the time you open up the door.  I greet you with a gentle kiss and help you remove your shirt because of the rain.  I kiss you again deeply on the lips and massage your back softly and retreat to the bathroom to change into something you'd like better.   

By this time you have poured two glasses of wine and laid down on the bed to wait for my return.   The rain is hitting the window and the thunder is setting the mood perfectly.

When I return I am wearing only the skimpiest laced black bra and a pair of black lace panties.  I slowly begin to walk into the room and get to the bed.  I slowly climb onto the bed and crawl up overtop of you and kiss you on the lips passionate, slipping just enough tongue to get you interested in what was to come.  

I gently kiss your neck and nibble on your ear slightly as I unzip your pants and push them down.  I help you remove your socks and then together we work at your boxers and push them to the floor.  

I then reach to the nightstand beside the bed and open the door and pull out a blindfold and put that over your eyes so you can not see anything that I am going to do.  Next I take your hands and hand cuff them to the head board and I tie your feet to the baseboard.  I want to be in control this time.

Once you are all tied up and can't move at all I begin to rub my hands all over you body and then my tongue.  Up and down your side, all over your chest and check and your thighs.  

Finally I get to your nice, hard cock and I kiss it and lick it lightly which I gently play with your balls, fondling them and caressing them. 

I take your cock in my hand and gently stick it into my mouth and slide my mouth over top it as far as it can go. I begin to suck ever so slightly more and begin to slide you in and out of my mouth a little bit faster.  When you start to moan a little louder and about to cum I stop and lick you some more and kiss your nice cock again... 

I slowly work my way up your body laying kisses everywhere I can possibly kiss.  I undo your handcuffs and then kiss my way back down your body and undo your feet so that you are free to move.

You still have your blindfold on so you are caught by surprise when you go to pull me closer and I have already removed my panties.   I take a hold of your nice long and hard cock and slowly slide my pussy onto it, teasing you a bit and then sliding it out and then back on deep this time.  I start to ride you slowly at first and increasing in speed along the way.  

Soon I am riding you hard and fast.  When we are both about to orgasm together I start kissing your neck and moaning louder and louder until like magic it happens. I stay on top of you and rest with you deep inside of me and then I get off you and take your hand and pull you into the other room and then out the back door onto the porch where there is a hot tub.  

You slowly get in and then I follow you.  I sit on your lap in the hot tub sliding you in me at the same time.  I slide you in and out of me slightly and then turn around and kiss your neck and nibble on your ear.  I slide you in again facing you this time but sitting on your lap.  I move on and off of you in such ease.  Listening to you moan until you are about to cum again.  I am about to cum myself and moaning even louder than before and finally we both orgasm again.

Throughout the night we orgasm a dozen more times in the hot tub on the back porch and in our bed.  I spend the entire night pleasuring you and amazing you with what I can do with both my hands and tongue.  Daylight is approaching and we are in our bed and I curl up next to  you in your arms and relax and we both sleep until late in the day from all the excitement the night before.  It was truly an amazing night!



For Mistress B



The candles are lit. The fire is burning hot in the wide hearth with the wooden beam across it. My old cottage sitting room is cosy and warm. A bottle of wine is chilled in the fridge and I am dressed for her.

I hear her knock and go quickly to the door to let her in, standing aside as she does so. She turns and we kiss briefly. Her blonde hair catches the candlelight and glows like a halo around her face. Her blue eyes sparkle.

I take her coat and lead her to a deep, soft sofa. I fetch her wine. Few, if any words. I have had my instructions and now I will obey them.

My blouse is black and almost transparent, buttons from shirt neck to waist inside my long dark blue silk skirt. The skirt is slit to the side, high up my thigh. I wear no bra for, unlike my Mistress's ample 34c bosom, mine is a tiny 32a. Hers needs no bra, being firm and pointed but she wears one anyway, always something sexy and exciting.

I wear stockings, of course, and suspenders, both black. The stockings are silk and seamed and the movement between them and my skirt is arousing. I have French knickers on. They are black too, trimmed with a small ribbon of lace and slit up the legs – loose and revealing. I sit in a deep chair opposite her. I look into her eyes and slowly begin to caress my right nipple through the soft shirt. It hardens under my finger. I undo a button and another until the blouse is open to the waist, my small breasts still concealed, at least in part, by the fabric.

She sips her wine, watching me. Her skirt is short, revealing her long, stockinged legs. Her breasts are moulded in a black silk camisole. She looks delicious.

I sit forward and lift my skirt slowly to reveal my stockings and when it is up to my waist I open my knees, wide apart. I sit back and reach between my legs, stroking the silk between them. I let a finger slide in under it so she can see the material move as my finger explores my slit. My other hand opens my shirt wide. I want to look wanton and slutty for her. Perhaps it is working, her own hand goes to her breast and begins to cup it.

I lift my feet onto the seat, knees as wide as I can and lift my bum, easing the knickers down. I take them from my ankles and slowly, very slowly, run them up my stockinged leg and let the silk caress my lips. I run it over myself, trying to give her occasional glimpses of my swelling lips. I feel the dampness begin to run inside me – know that in a moment it will shine on my lips.

I lay the knickers across one breast and reach down again. Slowly I run my finger between the lips and, reaching with the other hand, spread my lips and hold them open for her.

She nods and her hand rolls around her nipple which is straining through her bra and camisole. 

I slip a finger inside, slowly and carefully. Then a second. I bring them to my mouth and lick and suck them before reinserting them. I know I must look a disgrace, skirt around my waist, breasts exposed, feet up, legs wide. I hope I do anyway.

I lower my feet to the floor and stand. I turn and let my blouse fall to the floor. I unbutton my skirt and let it drop too. I kneel on the chair and let my long hair fall forwards as I lower my face to the seat's back.

I reach down between my legs and slip a finger deep and move it around inside me. I let it roll against my clit and I feel the wetness covering it. The finger, wet and slippery, slips out and back to my bum. I use it to press into my bum, lubricating that hole with my own juices. I have, hidden by the seat, a set of beads, five. About half an inch in diameter and joined by a thin string and with a black ribbon extending from the last. I push the first into myself. Then the second, my bum closing around the string between them. I push the third in and the fourth, leaving the fifth and the ribbon hanging outside me.

With the delicious fullness there I return to my pussy and slip 2 fingers in, crossing them and turning them. I push hard and feel the beads working with my fingers inside me. My rubbing becomes faster as my breath becomes heavier. I am grinding onto my hand. My head is shaking, I feel an orgasm rise from somewhere deep, near my kidneys. I work my pussy harder and faster, my knuckles massaging my clit as my fingers work inside me.

I throw my hair back and look over my shoulder at my Mistress.

She nods and I start to wail and cum, cumming for her, cumming so hard.

I collapse onto the seat back, face over it, fingers sliding from my pussy. "Thank you Mistress." I hear her stand and approach me. She touches my open pussy and slips a finger inside. "So wet, my love." I feel her lift the ribbon and pull, not hard enough to pull it out, hard enough to let me feel it. Her pull increases and the first slips out, then the second. She stops and turns away. "More wine I think."

I stand and reach for my clothes. "Just the knickers," she says. I step into them and stand there in them and my stockings with 3 beads and the ribbon hanging down from my bum.

"Fetch me another glass, have one yourself and then we will continue."



For Mom, The Son Also Rises



Brad had experienced numerous affairs and had a number of steady girl friends, as all young men in their twenties do. But it wasn't until Brad was twenty-five years old that a whole new and mysterious world had opened up to him. It was in his twenty-fifth year that Brad made love not to another feckless young girl in her twenties, but with a mature, vibrant, and sensual woman in her early forties. It was Brad's Mother who initiated him to the power Eros, as only a real woman can.

Nothing in their past seemed to lead to this special initiation of young man to Eros by the woman who gave him life twenty-five years before. True, ever since he was a child, Brad had cared very deeply about his mother in an especially intense way. Both shared a love of the written word, the lyrical melody, and the out-of-time and in-mind sensibilities they found in the arts and in the city in which they lived. But Brad's father, Jim, never really did. His was a world of taking money, insulating commerce, and insinuating "friends." 

Brad's mother, Karin, had wanted at least a brother or sister for her son, perhaps in the hopes of providing Brad the love and sense of family his father couldn't—or wouldn't provide him. It was not to be. Instead, of family, love, or even the comfort of passion, Jim "moved his family" up, in his words, which really meant wrenching his too young wife and their sensitive son from the nurturing city to a barren suburb of relentless privilege and paltry pleasures.

Thus exiled, Karin and Brad would come to develop an even closer, deeper, more intimate bond to keep a family starved of any nurture alive and to keep love in the cold climate of the ready-made upper classes warm and vibrant. But this close relationship was utterly platonic, an exemplar of the bonds between parent and child.

It is true, however, that after Brad's eighteenth birthday in the summer after he graduated high school and was preparing to attend college, he did begin to notice and think of his mother. He began to see his mother as he never previously had, but perhaps as all young men of eighteen or nineteen have, do, and always at some point will. 

Brad's father, Jim, had married Karin as his trophy wife when she was but in her early twenties. Lithe, tall, long-legged, and perhaps a bit sinewy in her youth, Karin aged gracefully into a strikingly beautiful young woman by the time Brad had become a teen. Her hips filled out, rounded but firm. Her legs were still taut and long. Her dark complexion complemented her large breasts. Still very firm but now with just the tiniest hint of a sag, Karin's breasts completed the body of a real woman, young and beautiful enough to keep the company of her younger rivals, but savvy and sensual enough to slay the competition.

It was in that summer after his eighteenth birthday that Brad caught a glimpse of his mother in her brassiere. As in all families, the son had glimpsed his mother this way before in the normal course of the morning or evening hustle and bustle of preparing for work or bed. And of course, Brad never thought anything of it. 

But now as a college-bound, adult and young man, something changed. This time, the image stayed with him, insinuating, whispering, haunting, and heating dormant desires. He sought and found release over page and video from his father's Playboy collection. Spent over the image of his favourite Playmate, Brad would no longer have to think about how she looked not unlike his very own mother, or so he thought.

But whenever such a connection, such an inclination, or inkling would seem a distant, foreign disturbance or brooding storm passed, light coincidences would conspire to trigger his darker contemplations. A few weeks after seeing his mother in a brassiere, Brad saw her in a skimpy black bra and matching panties as she was preparing for bed. She was tall and firm, but just a hint of handles on her tummy. Her legs were smooth , shiny, and impossibly long. Her tits were fleshy but firm, strained to escape the tight black bra, as did her round, big and firm ass her panties. There was no doubt about it. Mom's tan and tall body stood out in all the more contrast to her tiny black panties and bra.

That night, pages of his favourite Playmate were made sticky upon the shudders of Brad's naked body. 

On another night, he was suddenly was aware that he was on top of a long, tall, and dark woman. His cock disappeared into a hot buttery tunnel that pulsed and massaged the length of his manhood as it engulfed it in sweltering sweetness. His face was between two fleshy, pillowy mounds that tasted of cream and almonds; his mouth suckling on a long, rose coloured candy of a nub that arose from the heaving tit. His ass was pumping up and down, and the succulent tunnel into which his dick slid in and out rose up to engulf his masculinity. 

It felt hotter and tighter with every thrust. He felt a buzzing, boiling commotion in his balls. That turned into a fiery thick magma that moved thickly into his cock and burned its way up in searing sweet rise. Everything was in a soft blur. 

But not the rush of liquid fire up his cock. It became unbearable and blissful. And then his cock was twitching hard, shooting a lava of creamy white goo deep into the sweltering pussy in which his spurting penis was buried. Oh, it felt so incredible. He opened his eyes and struggled to see the face of this amazing woman between the two fleshy tits upon which his chin rested. He heard a woman's cry: "OH, BRAD, YES!!" Just then, the face came into view. It was his mother. 

Suddenly, Brad was back in his bedroom, in the dark, and his eyes opened in shock. It had all been a dream, a strange, frightening dream. But something happened. He felt a wet, warm, sticky cream all over his tummy. He had cum in his sleep. The dream was frightening, but also all so real and yet otherworldly. Everything was engraved into his mind's eye, but for the face of the mystery woman into whom he had emptied his young man's lust. But somewhere Brad knew. The voice, her face: it was Mom. Wiping himself clean, he felt vaguely dirty. The woman's face and her voice. They were...no, it couldn't be.

Disturbed, he pulled out the Playboy magazine from under his mattress. He reached for the one in which that Playmate was wearing but tiny black panties and bra, topped off with long black stockings. THat was the edition in which, as he turned th pages, that very same Playmate stripped off her bra, then the stockings. And then finally, that Playmate stripped off her panties. In no time he was spraying the image of that Playmate's pussy with his potent, youthful juices. 

Now he could sleep. That's who the face was in his dream, he thought to himself; it was his favourite Playmate. As he drifted off to sleep, a last thought flashed before his eyes, to be forgotten in the morning: his favourite Playmate looked a lot like his mother, Karin.

In time, Brad moved back to the city to attend college, graduate, and make his way. The love that could not speak its name of "mother" seemed to recede, as it might for a select few young men. And so this might have remained so, had Brad's three-year relationship not broken up shortly before his twenty-fifth birthday. In the aftermath of the breakup, Brad seemed to withdraw from all socializing. 

He seemed disconsolate and taciturn in telephone his conversations with his mother, so much so that Karin began to worry for her boy. She decided that the next social event her husband dragged her to, she would insist on bringing her son, not only for the welcome company but for his well being as well. 

It wasn't much longer after Karin decided upon her strategy that one of Jim's clients had invited him and Karin to a soirée. Normally, Karin dreaded these events, as so many of the men would leer at her, and her husband would get offensively drunk to offend the other wives by leering at them. But with her son coming along, Karin would help him re-enter the social world and have some charming company as well. It was decided. Karin, her husband, and her son would attend. 

Upon Karin's considerable prompting, Jim accompanied her to stop in on their son's apartment and convince him to go with them to the client's party. Karin seemed especially pleased to see her son, and complimented him on his brooding good looks and sensitive demeanor. Jim made snide remarks about Brad's increased drinking as of late, without offering any insight to or comfort for his son's grieving. But even the old man had to admit to himself that his son had cut a fairly fine figure.

The party annoyed Brad. But he tried his best to make great strides in small talk with his father and his cronies. Brad soon began pouring the drinks in the hopes of making the women look better to him, most of whom were his mother's age, but nowhere near as attractive. It didn't really matter tonight, though. Brad was feeling his buzz, feeling more than a little lonely, and a little like indulging his sudden fantasy of spiriting one of these women away from her drunk husband, taking her upstairs, and fucking her senseless.

As Brad hungrily scanned the room, he glimpsed out of the corner of his eye a striking woman with very big, firm tits–––for this was the frame of mind Brad was in––-standing across the room from him. He continued to eye her tits. She was vaguely familiar. She crossed her long, black-stockinged legs, and he caught a glimpse of her tan and taut thigh. Brad's penis was suddenly erect and very hard. He shifted his position from where he sat in the wan hope of disguising his sudden hope. The striking woman turned to face Brad. Their eyes met. Brad was stung with a sudden sobriety. The woman for whom his penis was pulsing gave Brad anther jolt.

The mystery woman was his own mother.

Jim came into the room and went to Karin. Jim was starting up again, saying something dismissive and cruel, as was his wont to do when had a few to drink, or even none at all. Karin was having none of what he was dishing out tonight. But her words neither tempered nor admonished him; he seemed to become belligerent, and began a too-loud whisper, sneeringly telling Karin what she ought or could not do, in so many words. 

As in so many instances before, Brad decided to intervene to deter his father from being any more abusive to Mom than he normally might be. The rest of the party guests were preoccupied with themselves, their drink, and their fatuous flatteries to do anything but provide background noise to an unpleasant scene escalating into a nasty one. Brad staggered over and good-naturedly asked to cut in, taking his Mom for a quick and casual dance and out of the line of fire. This time was different. Karin was angered and hurt, and she asked her son to take her home, and right away. Turning her back to her husband's muttered curses and loud "good riddance and good luck," Karin grabbed her coat and her son's hand and left.

Evidently, Jim was going to stay and have one too many more a drink and "chat" with his "friends," which really meant one of the wives with whom he was carrying on an affair.

When they got outside, the cool air was bracing enough, but not enough for Karin to believe that her son was sober enough to drive. She volunteered to take Brad back to his apartment, and he was fine with it. Upon arriving, Brad asked his mother to come in and unwind for a bit, and let him know what the new escalation of tension between her and his dad was really all about. She agreed. 

An hour later at two o'clock in the morning, Mom and son had ended up sitting on the love seat, talking. Brad was still buzzing on that night's drinks, and Karin was not a little emotional when recounting her dissatisfactions with her wayward husband. 

Brad poured Karin some red wine, which mellowed her somewhat, especially in light of the fact that she had had a few drinks at the party as well. It was with the first warm blush of the wine that Karin began to tear up, recounting the drink and women that were distracting her already sufficiently distracted husband. Her talking trailed off and she began to cry. As his mother stuttered between words and tears, Brad reached for her and put his arms around her to snuggle her in a son's loving embrace. 

He rocked and snuggled her, holding her close. She closed her eyes and gave herself to his tender, yet strong and commanding embrace. As Brad snuggled her tightly, he became aware of her big, fleshy tits pressed squarely his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, Brad began to focus—and focus yet again––on the way her short, black dress had crept up to the tops of her black stockings. 

She looked rather sexy, rather like some of those Playmates in Dad's magazine and video collection. But then again, maybe those Playmates looked like Karin. Mother or not, Karin definitely looked very sexy, indeed. Karin giggled a bit, which only further focused Brad's new curiosity. She told her son that if he kept holding her as tightly as he did, her new dress would probably be the worse for the wear. Brad insisted that she needed to be held, and his mother agreed. "Oh, son, this is nice, really nice, but I can't keep on holding you and wearing this dress. It's going to be a wrinkled heap in no time."

Brad, half-facetiously and half-seriously, suggested that she take off her dress. His mother agreed, somewhat to his surprise. She turned her back to him for him to unzip her. Such was the trust between mother and son that she nestled back into his arms, resting her head on his chest, her long dark hair tickling his chin. 

It took a Moment or two for Brad to take in that while his mother was wrapped fully around him in his arms, she, on the other hand, was wrapped in only tiny black laced panties and matching bra, garter belt and black stockings. She felt warm. She smelled of a light dust of talcum and wine, and the faint fragrance of a cool skin cream and fervid perfume, all swirled lightly and deliciously together. 

Brad felt a sudden warmth, not all of it from his lovely mother, but rather within himself.

Now Brad became aware of how sexy his Mom's long legs were, especially in her black stockings and garter belt. Her black-laced brassiere pressed her tits tightly together and up, accenting a deep cleavage that rose and fell gently like the Queen Mary at sea. Brad became aware of something else, as well. Maybe it was his Mom's sweet smell or her soft skin; maybe it was her long, shapely legs; or it could have been that she was in but a tiny black lace bikini underwear; or maybe it was even her big, firm tits. Any single one of those sexy things or anything about his beautiful, sexy mother should never have made the blood rush and make his manhood stir, but stir it did. His cock was hard, very hard, and throbbing, too.

Brad tried to deny it. Then he tried to hide it. Then he tried not to do anything about it. Then he tried not to be too obvious as he was failing all of the other tests. Try as he might, Brad could not help but stroke his mother's back. His fingertips gently skimmed and brushed her ribcage. Her skin was silky smooth and warm. 

Tracing over, around, and on her bra strap, Brad's fingers began to tremble. But as if possessed of a will of their own, they continued. He didn't want to stop them. He couldn't, even if he did. Again and again his fingers traced and touched his mother's soft skin. Then they somehow slipped under the clasp at the back of his mother's brassiere.

Karin seemed content. She sighed warmly, gently wrapping her arm up over her son's neck, nuzzling her face into his chest, and gently closing her eyes, purring softly, "Ummmm…my sweet, sweet boy; I love so much, you know that?" 

Brad murmured back lovingly, "Umm-hmmm; I love you, too, Mom," and he tenderly kissed her once on her ear, once on her nose, and once on the bangs that fell gently upon her temple. His mother cooed happily, nestling still tighter unto his chest. She didn't even notice that his fingers once again slipped under the back of her brassier and traced lightly over her skin toward her ribs. His fingertips continued, overshooting her ribs but brushing up right against the warm, fleshy swell of her breast. Brad quickly but quietly pulled his fingers away. 

Mom continued to nestle and didn't seem to notice, or at least not let on that she did. In fact, her close nestling seemed to expose more of the swell of her breast, at least it seemed that way to Brad. And she didn't move when her son's hand once again drifted up toward and upon the base of her smooth, fleshy breast. As it happened, his fingers "misjudged" again–––that would be Brad's excuse, anyway, if she reacted angrily–––for they slipped up to within an inch of his Mom's nipple. Of course Brad caught himself and pulled his fingers away. He just misjudged his "hug," or so Brad made excuses for himself.

Still, his Mom seemed very happy and peaceful, almost like a lightly napping cat. She turned her face slightly into his chest, almost as if she was kissing or nipping Brad through his shirt. For some strange reason, Brad felt his heart starting to beat harder, and he could swear he heard it pounding in his brain. His mouth felt dry as bone, but his breath as hot and moist as a New York summer's day. 

Brad brushed his lips lightly over his Mom's eyes, and he could feel her sigh. That was interesting. So, he then brushed his lips over nose. She turned her face up toward him, which was even more interesting. His heart was beating faster. Her graceful but sudden turn brought their lips brushing together. Karin's lips opened lightly and she kissed her son softly and squarely on his lips. This happened just when his fingers brushed up against her nipple. Karin's gave her son another light kiss. 

But this second kiss lingered. A sweet, soft sound passed between her open lips and a sigh of surprise stayed in her throat. Brad's fingers lingered over her nipple the way her lips lingered on his. Her eyes were now open. And Brad was trying to keep track of this, but for one distraction. His fingers were still on her nipple. He had wanted to put them there. He had a new reason to keep them there: His mother's nipple was stiffening into a hard, veiny, and rubbery bud between his finger and thumb. 

He felt his wrist quickly grasped by Karin's hand, and he just knew she was going to pull his fingers away and slap his hands. To his surprise, that didn't happen. Instead, her hand just stayed on his wrist. It almost felt like it was trembling. Brad's heart started beating faster. He felt a sudden heat rising to his temple. 

The sudden warmth shouldn't have been a surprise; his fingers were now gently but firmly pinching, pulling, and stroking at her long nipple. It was getting very hard to his touch. His Mom was breathing deeper and harder, too. That wasn't all, either. Brad's cock was getting hard, very hard. Brad did not know what to make of the situation. His cock was not only hard, but it was also throbbing. He could feel it pulsing. The tip of his cock felt hot. So hot that Brad began to feel as if though it was spouting something. 

Brad realized then that pre-cum was starting to ooze out of his throbbing cockhead, making his tight black underwear sticky. This only happened when he stripped when looking at those Playboy Magazines of Dad's---or when he would make love to his now ex-girlfriend. This was a bit shocking. His penis was pulsing harder than it ever did when he masturbated over sexy magazine pictures, and it certainly was pulsing harder than when he was with any of his now former girlfriends. 

The realization shocked him. It also excited him further: Mom was in his arms, nearly naked. Brad's cock pulsing and oozing pre-cum in preparation for the act of love, but this time it was for his own, nearly naked mother.




For Mom, The Son Also Rises



Brad began to feel he was going crazy. The heat in his temples, the dryness of his mouth, the throbbing and pulsing in his dick set him to fire and on fire. Brad couldn't help making the next move, even if he got slapped and reprimanded. It was now or never, wherever "now" was leading and whatever "never" was supposed to happen.

He nervously slipped both his palms into his mother's brassiere. He began kneading her nipples and tit flesh. Before she had a chance to respond, he brought his lips to her full, lush lips and thrust his tongue in. He was in for a surprise. Mom's lips were already parted. As soon as his tongue entered her mouth, it was met by her tongue. Hers flickered, slithered, danced, and wrestled with his. Another surprise. Karin moaned into his mouth. Her hands grasped his wrists tighter, but they did not push them away from her now heaving breasts. Brad's cock was twitching so hard now that he was sure he was about to cum.

What followed is something Brad "never" expected would ever happen. His mother seemed to enjoy what was happening. "Ummmmm…oooooooo…mmmmm" were the sounds his mother moaned into his mouth as her tongue flailed his. Her hands went to his head and pushed him toward her breasts. It was all happening as if in a sultry, forbidden dream. It seemed so real, hyper-real, like those wet dreams about "MOM," the one to which every nineteen year-old young man wakes up, flustered, excited, and covered in his own manly essence, the dream that is too hot to forget, and too shocking to dare remember.

Brad went with the dream, moving quickly before he had to wake up. He bent down his head and with his lips, pulled away the brassiere to get to her hard, sweet, rubbery nipples. Into his hungry mouth went her warm, moist, sweet spongy tit flesh. He found and began to suckle her sweet, hard nipples. They tasted of that milky, sweet flavour he had so loved in women, and these were just a bit musky, too–––like in his murky but hot wet dream. It was as if the images of Playboy, the thrill of tasting his first girlfriend's body, and the mysterious, moist, fleshy and primal pleasure of feeding upon Mom were combined all in one incredible, hyper-real Moment.

"Ohh, God, yes," is what Brad thought. This was no dream. This was that teenage boy's wet dream as a surreal, hyper reality. As Brad suckled on his mother's nipples, making them hard and long, Karin reached around and unhooked her brassiere. Now Brad's cock was throbbing so hard it felt like a piston pumping just before the engine set into first gear. 

He suckled more and more of Mom's sweet tits into his mouth, one by one. He prayed the dream wouldn't end. It didn't. He would push the envelope. So, Brad slid his hand into the waistband of his mother's black lace panties, grasping and kneading her round ass. It was now undulating and thrusting. As Brad suckled, kissed, and bit her nipples and squeezed her ass, Mom began to moan loudly. This was no dream. Then a bit of "reality" began to enter the Moment.

She started to talk to him, telling him that she knew he had a bit too much to drink, too much to deal with, and too much heartache to do what he was doing on purpose. As she was pardoning, forgiving, but gently reprimanding him, Brad had to push the intrusion of a mother's realism out of his dream reality. He moved his hand right into her panties, right where they tiny black fabric covered her ass. Under the panty waistband went his hand. It continued to glide under her hips, and right up between her thighs. It didn't stop. In a fraction of a second that seemed like a decade, his fingertips touched the first bristly hairs of his mother's pussy bush. 

Suddenly startled, Karin began to protest. Reality threatened. But still his hand crept up. His fingertips strained that extra half-inch. They were rewarded. The skin of his two fingers were electrified with the sudden feel of two very moist pussy lips:

"WAIT…Wai...Wwwaoooo…Oooooh!" Her protest ended in a gasp. But that ending was the beginning of something strange and wonderful for Brad: a low, heated grunt growled in Mom's throat. Brad was now at the crossroad. His hand was covering her cunt. His fingers were rubbing his mother's slippery, greasy pussy lips. His fingers, wet with the juice of her pussy lips, found her hood. It was teased until it gave up a hard, rubbery nub. Brad had begun rubbing his mother's now hard, rubbery clit. Some part of his conscience was in full alarm. He wanted to stop. He wanted to turn back the clock. He wanted to apologize to his mother. He wanted her to forget everything he did. 

But the thing that Brad wanted to do more than anything else was pull down his mother's panties to get to her pussy. 

His heart was pounding. His mind was reeling. His senses were swirling as if in a maelstrom. He had to know. He had to experience it. He had to have it. He had to reach for the waistband of her black bikini panties. Brad did. He just had to peel them off her. Brad did. He had to take her garter belt off, too. Brad did. With mouth as dry as Death Valley days, and his cock was as hard as Chinese algebra, Brad slipped his Mom's tiny black lace panties down her long, shapely legs, down to her ankles and then off of her pretty feet. 

Mom just watched him, opened mouthed. But she lifted her ass up so that he could remove that which blocked what he just had to see. Brad surely noted that. Her garter went the same way.

He went back and peeled off her sheer black stockings, one long shapely leg at a time. She watched him his every move, leaning back on the couch and supporting herself with her hands. She did not stop him. Then, Brad moved up over her. As he did, his mother laid down on her back, on the couch, nude. Her breasts were heaving. She was breathing heavily. Her breath sounded loud, moist, and broken. Her big tits sagged just a bit to either side. They were rising and falling like two boats moored off the shore. She lay before him naked, and made no move to cover herself or stop her son. 

But she tried to give him a chance to stop himself at the Moment and on the spot. She began to tell him, again, and tell him firmly that she knew he had a bit too much to drink. As she did, Brad stripped off his shirt. As she spoke, she became aware that her son was now bare-chested. She still didn't cover herself up. Karin then told him that he had had too much to deal with, and perhaps too little support from her to handle it all. 

As she said this, Brad kicked off his shoes, tore off his socks, and stripped off his pants. Karin continued, but now she became aware that her son was now down to his underwear. It was a tight fit. Her beloved son was in one of those tight, tiny black bikini for men. They showed everything. That's when Karin admitted to it herself: her son had a lot to show. 

In fact, he was hot. Even with the bikini underwear still on him, Karin could see that her son's cock was big, and his balls were taut. She started up again, but Karin's words caught in her throat. When she finely found the words, her voice was now a bit ragged, shaky, and she was speaking way too distractedly. Her son wasn't listening now. Karin was up to the part where her son had experienced too much heartache in too short a time to be doing what he was doing on purpose, when she stopped mid sentence. Brad had just peeled off his underwear and let them fall in a puddle at his feet. 

Karin's eyes opened in a dreamy, fluttering stare. She gazed upon her son. He was naked. His body was taut, beautiful, and rippling with heat. His cock was hard, so very hard. It throbbed and bounced with each beat of his pounding heart. Karin wondered what to do. Her son was so beautiful, too beautiful for a mother to gaze upon. And too beautiful to turn away. 

Brad looked at his sweet, sensitive mother. She was spread nude on her back on the backless love seat. She was spread nude, helpless to prevent a fucking she never expected, a fucking from her own flesh and blood. He gazed hotly over her. 

His eyes wandered over her big, gorgeous tits and their long, hard nipples; his eyes scrutinized her tummy, fleshy with just a tiny hint of punch befitting a middle-aged beauty, but still so firm, with a beautiful navel winking at his gaze; his eyes drank in his mother's black furry strip of a pussy bush, with its wet and swollen lips unfolding like mature rose petals before his eyes. A twinge of conscience cut through him. He could stop. He didn't have to defile his mother. He didn't have to commit the greatest taboo between mother and son. He didn't have to condemn himself or his mother to the crime they were to commit.

Then, Brad glanced once again at his mother's big, shapely, cock-stiffing tits, with just the hint of middle-age sag, with their dark brown areolas and red rose nipples, hard and veiny. They were rising up and down with the frightened, excited breath coming from his mother's full-lipped and opened mouth. He saw her tummy, shimmering with the dew of arousal, its 'innie" navel winking at him. 

He gazed upon her dark thatch of pussy fur, a perfect "V" of bristly hair coalescing between her hard, thick thighs, which ran down into long, marble-smooth legs. He could smell the sweet musky aroma wafting from her vagina, and the sweet tang of her sweat from her underarms, neck, breasts, and every pore in her now undulating body. The aromas and sights curled and caressed Brad's senses, from his cock to his brain, tugging, jerking, and pulling on toward the logical conclusion of a hot, illogical dream.

And before Brad's conscience could figure out a way to awaken a son from his most forbidden and desired dream, he was already positioning himself on top and between the legs of his sweet innocent mother. Afraid that his engorged cock would too quickly release the building, burning magma within, Brad was swiftly but gently began lowering his nude hardness onto her fleshy, warm nakedness. Karin's eyes opened wider. She began to know just what would happen next. She began to know that nothing else could, and it was all unfolding, as were her legs and the heaving of her big, firm tits.

Before she could even process all of this, she began lifting her long legs up and pulling her knees apart. Her hands were splayed lightly on his hard, tight hips. A mother's conscience was losing its final battle to stay above the surging tide of a woman's passion. Karin was a woman in that Moment, the Moment when she knows it is about to happen, and welcoming its inevitability, fearing and yet hungering for her own surrender to it. And as a mother's conscience slipped beneath the waves of arousal, Karin's surging tide was pulling her son's very hard penis toward her creamy, slippery center. 

She realized that this time there were no barriers of fabric, circumstance, or guilt, taboos, father and husband to block what was about to unite. As a Mom's micro black bikini panties and son's tight, tiny black bikini underwear were lying on the floor, it was happening. Karin knew then just where her son was going. 

Brad's penis fumbled for the slippery groove between her hairy mound and her puckered brown star. He rubbed his twitching penis over the bristly hair on her mound searching for her nest, before slipping the rubbery penis helmet down to the thick, swollen labia. He followed the hot wetness and was rewarded. His rubbery helmet head pushed up against the two swollen, slick, slippery lips. Karin shivered. 

Brad was rubbing the head of his cock up and down his mother's slit and upon her swollen nub, preparing her, begging her, commanding her, proving to her that his flesh would once again fill every part of her womanhood, every sweltering, moist fold, crevice, and depth with the flesh of his flesh, the hard heat of his manhood, and the fruit of her own womb. Her vagina, her lips, her clit itched to be found by her son's hunger. 

That's when son's cock had found them all. By then it was too late for her to stifle her moans of pleasure. Moan the mother did. So did her son; her pussy lips felt so slippery and hot on his dick. A son rubbed his mother's pussy lips harder with his hot manhood, coaxing and teasing those creamy, greasy lips open, teasing the gated, hallowed Eden open for a return to paradise lost. Soon, Brad made his next move. 

The return had begun. He began pressing into her now very creamy, slippery slit. This was a whole new, exciting type of "comforting." First, his pulsing purple head pressed into his mother's love hole. Brad's dick plowed in just enough to make her eyes pop open wide and force a breath hotly from her open mouth. But it did more than that. The hard, rubbery head of her son's penis was stretching his Mom's moist lips wide open, splitting them apart. It felt so hot and velvety inside, as if her vaginal tunnel were lined in melted sugar, satin and rose petals, all basted in a hot dripping butter, gripping and sucking in his quivering dick as a warm, puckering mouth does a sweet cherry lollipop. 

Karin was panting, closing her eyes, and giving in to a tingling, hot pleasure so intense that she couldn't bear to see the beautiful, naked man who was causing it. But he felt so good. She had to look, nonetheless. Half opening her eyes, Karin stared down between her now heaving, big breasts to see such a sight. Brad pulled out. For a moment there was breathless anticipation. What would happen now? Then she felt his cockhead begin to slide into her, again. 

He felt big, really big. But his Mom was wet and she was spreading her hot, Mommy thighs even wider for him. At that instant, Brad started to feed the rest of his big cock inside. His mother gasped, "Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh," dropping her head back, fluttering her eyes, and rolling back under the sudden assault of taboo's pure pleasure invading her womanhood. 

It was not "going to happen." It was already happening, and Karin knew it. Now she knew as never before the real meaning, the real blissful crises of the word: "fucking." Her own son was fucking her. It seemed like so many of those dreams Mom had had, but had never spoken of, too. It felt so good that she gave in to it, welcomed it, and savoured it, whispering, "Ohhh, fuck…Oooooo, fuck…OOOOOO, FUCK" hotly from her moist lips. This signaled the gravity of the Mother and Son's sin, and how hot, wicked, and so good it all felt.

Brad heard Karin's open-mouthed exclamations. He knew what they meant: Permission granted. Pushing forward, he started penetrating deeper into her wet cunt. Mom was feeding him, too. She was feeding him all that he had hungered for and had once starved himself of out of such fear, for so long: to be between Mommy's strong thighs, to have his cock deep inside Mommy's cunt. This was the return to paradise, even if it meant damnation eternal. 

She wasn't stopping him. She wasn't slowing him. She wasn't in anyway doing anything to fight the swelling, searing warmth of the sun rising and spreading from deep between her thighs, rising from the deepest folds, from the molten core of her pussy. And he wouldn't stop until he had her, took her, impaled her, and yes, that ending, yes, that ending in which he would fill her, return to her, leaving a seeds of himself again, planted so deeply and safely in her womb.

He loved the feel of her slippery, tight, wetness. He loved the sweet smell of her pussy, the softness of her skin, feel of her big, firm tits squeezed bulging flat against his chest; the wetness that oozed not only from her cunt, but from every pore of mother and son. The sound of her moans and gasps drew him in, harder. He continued to push in, stronger now, burying his cock ever deeper in his mother's pussy.

This was a new, and very special type of "comforting," the inevitable, real "comforting," the one that both needed and wanted all along, the one that they, on some level, knew, hoped for, and finally did everything the could to make it happen. Karin was so excited. She struggled to keep herself in position as her son pushed his cock deeper inside of her, his hot meat melting whatever resistance the steamy, sticky, and slick buttery folds that a sexy mother's excited vagina could offer. 

Brad's veiny shaft was so damned thick. As he pushed his hips forward, the heat and girth of his penis instantly began to "comfort" his own mother's pussy walls. Karin couldn't believe how big her son was and how well he knew how to use it. It seemed to take forever for Brad to push all of his thick, hot meat––from the tip to the base—all the way into Karin's love canal, and a little while longer for her to adjust to her boy's 7 or 8 inches of mother love. Finally, Brad's balls rested on Mom's anus. He really did it. 

Both lay still in the moment. Their sex throbbed in excruciating pleasure as their mouths sighed in disbelief. A son's penis was buried all the way inside his mother's vagina. He really did it, and she let him. And he was so thick that he made Karin feel like she was losing her virginity all over again. Karin was gasping with pleasure. So was he. A son's cock was buried to the root of his mother's love canal, and neither Mom nor son had felt anything so intense and incredible, be it lover, girlfriend, or spouse. 

There she was, a naked, gorgeous mother pinned to the love seat under the weight of her naked, sexy son. His balls were tight against her pelvis, and there was no denying it: Mom's son had a dick that felt so big, so hard, and so good, buried so deep in her wet, tight pussy. A part of her wished her philandering husband could see her now: she, Jim's wife, naked and spreading her legs open wide while Jim's own son was lying on top of her, naked, his hard penis buried in his mother's wet vagina, right up to the root her hot, grasping, and tingling love tunnel.

That's when Brad began to pull his penis out. Did he have second thoughts? If he did, what might she do or say, now that she wanted it so much. Karin whimpered in disappointment. "Where are you going," she seemed to gasp. Just before the penis was about to exit Karin's vagina, Brad pushed it back in again. This made her pussy quiver and secrete more hot, buttery juice in excitement. She moaned in gratitude. 

The thick base of her son's penis rubbed down her clit perfectly as well. Karin sighed. She was relieved and happy. There was no denying it to herself, now. She was so ready. Brad repeated the new "comforting" technique," pulling his hard penis out and pushing back in. It was working. Karin's pussy had stretched, secreted, and juiced to accommodate her son's big, hot cock as he began to pump her. 

Brad was "comforting" his mother by returning to her, reconnecting with her, filling her up with himself ––with his very hard penis, and he couldn't believe how good it felt. Her pussy had stretched and gushed to accommodate the taboo invader, making it part of her all over again.

She knew then how much her son really cared about her. She felt the hot moist breeze of his breath as his mouth nuzzled into her ear. He kept on thrusting his hips to fill and empty and fill again her love canal with all of his caring, hard cock.

Again and again, a very excited and beautiful mother felt power of virile love as her son's plunging cock was rubbing, stroking, and sculpting every sweet fold and depth of her dripping, sugary cunt walls. 

Her vagina was so tight for a middle-aged mother, tight as if it hadn't been entered in so long a time. 

Brad loved it. He loved the feel of her slippery, tight, wetness. His cock felt the slippery friction of her love canal's tight, buttery walls. They stroked, squeezed, and heated her son's dick with such slick, sweltering lubrication, drawing it in deeper on every thrust he made. Perfect. So perfect. It felt so amazingly good. So good, in fact, that Brad pushed in and pulled out again, and again, until he was soon thrusting in and out in a slow, deep, and steady rhythm. 




For Mom, The Son Also Rises



Karin was helping him, too. She was delirious with delight at the feel of his large---very large---penis pumping in and out of her vagina, so much so that she instinctively lifted her ass off of the couch and thrust her pussy up to suckle on her son's dick. The more she rolled up her ass off the couch, the more of her son's penis her vagina could swallow. That felt so good that she had to have even more of him, more of the sweet, hot sensations his manhood was giving her maternal body. 

With every thrust of his hard sword into her softly opening vaginal sheath, a mother felt like she was the sea of dark warm waves. Deep down in her watery trench, the hot fathoms parted and rolled asunder, in long, simmering billows of currents racing up and breaking the surface as wispy crests of foam, spurting up over slick pussy lips as they opened and closed over the plunger pistoning in and out of the oceanic center between her trembling, parting thighs.

It felt so good! The plunger diving to the roiling depths of her maternal sea so fucked Karin so well that she couldn't help raising her long legs into the air and spreading them in a wide "V." "Oh, Yes!" Karin gasped. "Ooooo! So Much better!" She moaned again. Spreading her legs wide and in the air for her son let escape a miracle to feel. Out of the corner of his eyes, 

Brad could see his mother's long, shapely legs, spread high and wide just for him, with her pretty feet and curled toes on either side of his face. Before being swept up into her tides, Brad looked at her outspread legs and loved it, loved it, loved it all. Brad had more room–––and more encouragement––– for his penis to "comfort" the deepest depths of his Mom's vagina, rubbing right up onto the portal of her womb. It was working. The plunging, the tides, the foam, the heat, the fucking, yes, the son fucking his mother, all of it was sweeping them both up into their own perfect storm. So perfect was the gathering storm that Karin pulled her long, outstretched legs all the way up toward her ears, and curled her toes even tighter. 

That took an already fantastic plunge to an entirely deeper level, with Brad now thrusting his penis in deep, long, hard, and ever-faster strokes. Now Mom and son were saying things like, "Ooooo," "Unngggghhh," Ohhhhhh, yessss," and they said "God," and "Oh, God," a lot as well.

All of that thrusting, kneading, and pounding stirred the depths of her sea, roiling, heating, it, making it boil deeper, deeper, deeper down to the creamiest, slipperiest, and hottest depths of her pussy. The raging tide made Karin twirl her ass around, in tight, concentric circles, drawing her son's dick right into her womb. Mother and son were kissing each other deep in the mouth. Again and again, their tongues were snaking and swirling over each other as if mother and son mouths were sharing in the same tidal rush as the one his penis and her vagina were getting.

It was then that Brad was rocketed back to the beginning. The twenty-five year old son felt like he was once again a naked baby on his Mommy. He kneaded and suckled Karin's breasts and hard nipples with his mouth, famished and nursing on his Mom's full, nourishing tits. His mouth felt like the power of Man and the vulnerability of infant on Karin's hard, sweet nipples. Her nipples tingled and crackled with electricity. It spread. It spread to her quivering tit mass, racing to join storms erupting throughout her writhing, squirming, wet body.

And this suckling of Karin's nipples joined the tingling storm in her tits and pussy, setting off volcanoes in her boiling watery depths. That deep tingling began to feel less like a boiling sea and more like fire and lava, like it was creation growing deep in her cunt, spreading its fiery fury like fingers up over her belly, her tits, down her long spread legs into her curled toes, and right up to her fevered brain.

Such was the pussy-pounding plunging of her son's cock that her frothing cunt and jiggling tits and outspread legs undulated, jiggled, and writhed below his every rise and fall. Creation's tingling fire arose, boiling away waves and water, and now hotly devouring the foaming, sweet and salty sea raging in her cunt. Her cunt was burning in a new, strange thirst, as wet as it was. It was suddenly that simple and that clear. Mom was hoping her son would soon pump a "lotion" into her vagina and quench it's thirst. Such is often the reasoning of a woman on the verge as her lover's cock rubs her clit into an oblivion of heat, fire, and bliss. 

Brad was feeling it too, right in the boiling depths of his balls and the throbbing, ecstatic crises rising in his cock. His tongue sought out refreshment in his mother's dew and juices, flickering and sliding upon her big, jiggling tits, on her neck, and in the wet spicy crevices of her underarms. She gave it all to him, her body commanding her boy, "Oh son, drink, drink!"

That's when the just-about drowned voice of conscience gasped its last: Should a mother let, no, make her son pump his lotion into her vagina? As she thought about this, Brad's hand snaked under her and grabbed tight of her sweaty ass checks, fingers slipping into her butt crack. His hand started squeezing her moist, round ass, and her anus began to be tickled and touched. 

That' when Karin's tingling sensations became a strong, rippling wave throughout her body. The wave of pleasure made her pussy suddenly tighten up to its maximum. Just when she thought her pussy could get no tighter, it did. Then there was a blinding flash of light in Karin's brain and a sudden, searing explosion from deep in her vagina that raced over her clit and burst throughout her body and being. 

Whatever Karin was thinking about ended. Wave after wave of merciless pleasure erupted deep in her pussy and swept over to inundate her entire, trembling body, blasting over flesh and thought in a tidal wave of intense, pulsing, tingling bliss. 

Somehow, amidst the fluttering and convulsing of her cunt canal, and all of her moaning and wailing, Karin felt hot streams of pleasure literally flowing from her vagina's walls, spraying over her son's penis and out onto her anus. She was finally spurting her own lotion all over her son's penis, and a lot, too. The sensations rocked her to her core, making her feel as if her body was exploding into a million pieces of pleasure. 

Instinctively, desperately even, Karin suddenly threw her round, hard thighs upon her son's sides, wrapping her long legs around his waist. She locked her ankles and crossed her pretty feet tightly above his pumping ass. Now he was hers. She owned every straining, trembling fiber and muscle of him like she never commanded of any lover or husband. With her long legs wrapped around her son's waist and her pretty feet crossed over his pumping ass, she now pulled him deeper into her body and at the same time clung and grasped on to him for dear life. 

As she did, she pumped hard and fast as she could, smearing all of her lotion over every inch of Brad's penis. It was working. Brad immediately plunged his basted cock deeper and harder into her. Her pussy muscles squeezed, flexed, and rippled up and down his throbbing dick. Mom was cumming all over son's penis. It was beyond incredible. It was spiritual. It was the big bang in her matronly universe, exploding and expanding between her squeezing thighs. 

Feeling his Mom's hot fluids spraying all over his dick and balls made Brad want to finish the "comfort session" right away, with a "big bang" of his own.

His body began to jerk. Karin was squeezing her legs tightly around Brad's waist and suddenly crying out the secret words of her deepest, darkest dreams, "Ohhhhhhh God, Brad! Oooo, yes! Cum! Give it to me! Yes! Oh, yes, that's it! You want to…do it! DO IT! CUM INSIDE MOMMY! FILL UP HER PUSSY WITH YOUR HOT CUM!!"

Brad gasped helplessly. He was losing the struggle to hold on, to wait, to stretch out paradise one more minute, one more second, one more lifetime. But Mom was not to be denied or disobeyed! 

Karin arched her back and thrust her ass high off the couch. Mom was now grinding her ass like all good mothers do, jamming her hairy pussy up onto a manly lover's bristly crotch. Mom was sliding her hot, foamy cunt lips right up over every inch of her son's cream-covered cock over and over again. It was time to end this "talking session" with that very big bang. 

Karin's hands slid down his back and onto her son's ass, her fingers digging into his flesh as her lips sought his and his tongue slipped into her mouth, meeting hers. Karin felt her son's cock suddenly grew fatter and harder, making her gushing pussy feel like it would burst. "OH GOD!! OH GOD!!" she screamed. Another wave of pleasure exploded in her pussy, followed by a second torrent of her lotion. Stars and sparks burst before her eyes. Her own son's swelling cock was impaling her to her very womb, pinning her to the couch. 

The dream was real, so real now for both of them. Brad gave a choking sound as he felt his balls suddenly contract and his cock balloon. Karin thrust her legs wide in the air to welcome her son's impending gift. That's when her son's body buckled and trembled. He shoved his cock in, all the way in, burrowing it into the hottest, wettest, deepest depths of his mother's sizzling, buttery pussy folds. There he abdicated, frozen still in the maddening flutters of excited Mother pussy. His flesh trembled. His ass cheeks quivered. 

Sweat poured off his forehead, raining in rivulets all over his Mom's big, jiggling tits. Feeling her son's cock begin to jerk and twitch hard in her cunt, Karin hurriedly wrapped her long legs again around her boy's sweaty, bucking waist, squeezing him to her body in the ultimate display of maternal love. 

That's when Brad let escape the long, pained groan he had hid in his wet dream but could hold back no more for his Mom: "OOOOOOOOHHH!!" His thing suddenly erupted inside his mother. Mother and son cried into each other's mouths. His cock gathered itself up again and again, unleashing its explosions. Torrents of hot, white cum squirted hard and into Mom's molten canal. Karin's eyes and mouth flashed wide open as she felt her son's hot seed flooding her insides.

Brad's cock was in full firing mode, hotly squirting volley after volley of his pent up cum deep into his beautiful mother's body. She was taking all of it, all of it, and more. Her pussy tunnel vibrated and undulated over his pulsing cock. And he filled up his Mom's love tunnel and womb with gobs of a sizzling goo, a son's thick soup of boiling, incestuous cum. Karin's arms and legs squeezed him down into to her wet, hot body as she writhed, bucked, squirmed, and squealed wildly under his trembling weight, and her pussy swallowed every volley of his hot baby-making juice. 

And it was an especially hot lotion spewing from Brad's son's fat, twitching cock. As Karin moaned, she rolled her convulsing cunt all around his squirting dick, adding her own juices and forcing the overflow up over her quivering pussy lips. A thick, gooey stew of pussy juice and cum from Mommy and son soon slid down the crack of her upturned ass. 

Brad was moaning, triumphantly. He was doing it! He was really doing it! He was on top of his mother, his tongue in her mouth. He had his cock buried balls deep in Mom's pussy, firing away strand after milky strand of his hot cum. And when he opened his eyes, it was no dream, no shame, no substitute. It was his Mom! Brad loved it. He loved how incredible it felt Motherfucking his own Mom. When he admitted this to himself, he nailed his mother extra hard and finished emptying himself into every inch of her grasping, hot love canal. 

And Karin felt every one of his scalding hot discharges. It was so wicked. It was so beautiful. She loved it. She loved every sinful second of it. She was living out every mother's secret fantasy: she was taking the perfect lover she helped create––her son–– right back into her pussy and into her womb, her own beautiful flesh and blood. She trembled, hissed, and wailed as her son's pulsing cock spent itself in her sweltering, receptive depths. 

Brad rode out his cum on top of his mother, kissing her on the mouth, thrusting his tongue inside. His Mom's eyes rolled to the back in her head as her pussy absorbed load after scalding load. She sucked on his tongue like a baby, but her pussy sucked on his cock like the whore slut she had become for her son, swallowing up rope after rope of his goo right down her vaginal gullet. 

After Brad finished shooting all of his sperm inside her pussy, he remained on top of Karin. He was exhausted. So was his mother. Thus the first time ended: His cock was in his mother's pussy and his tongue inside her mouth. That was absolutely the perfect ending, Karin and her son thought, to the most special "talk" ever: Brad had made Karin cum, using his son-cock on her mother-pussy.

AFTERMATH

Brad slowly but surely collapsed atop of his mother as the explosions subsided, his eyes tightly closed, Momentarily too spent to even pull his now shrinking dick out of his mother's love tunnel. The two were a wet, sweaty, exhausted heap of quivering flesh. They Momentarily sank into the couch, covered in the sheen of their exertions, redolent of the scents of their illicit and explosive lovemaking. Dazed, drained, and descending from the high of their cum, both quivered in the chill of the room and their nakedness to the world. It felt stunningly perfect. He was drained and she was filled in every sense of the word 

But as his senses began to return, Brad started to think about the enormity of the sin he committed. Brad had fucked his own mother! Brad was a motherfucker!

Even more sinful, he had fucked her after she had an emotionally charged confrontation with his father. She had been vulnerable, and he took such sordid advantage of the situation and her. What had he done? He kept his eyes closed, afraid to face the world and his mother, having broke taboo, laws, challenged the gods––and fucked his own mother full of his cum.

He withdrew his dick from her and then rolled to his side. With no small effort, he forced his eyes open to face her. She wasn't mad. She wasn't shocked. She wasn't feeling at all guilty or shamed. Instead, she was smiling gently and contentedly at her son. Karin was glowing, her cheeks red and her long brown hair matted back in sweat over her shiny temple. Her eyes were glimmering a contented afterglow.

She shushed him quiet with a finger to his lips. She then gently pulled her son against her long, moist, naked body. He was again between her legs, unraveled from his back, lowered from the air, and spread in beautiful repose upon the couch. So Brad slipped into his afterglow, laying upon his mother's naked, dewy body, his shrunken cock squished up upon her gooey pussy lips, and resting his head between her big, fleshy tits. There they lay, Mom cooing softly her love for her precious, sexy son.

While she was babying him, the phone rang. Brad got up and went to answer it. It was his father, Jim. He wanted to know if Brad knew where his mother was, and if so, if she was alright. Brad stood naked by the table, the phone in his hand, his cock covered in his mother's cunt cream, and he looked over toward the couch.

"Oh, yes, Mom is here. She's doing alright, " Brad told his father. She was there, "alright," resting naked and peacefully, freshly fucked by her own son. She was lying peacefully with her big tits bare and her son's cum still in her pussy. Jim had no idea that as he was speaking with Brad on the phone, that very son's overflow cum and his own mother's pussy juice was sliding out of upturned pussy lips and running down the crack of a missing wife's ass to stain her very own son's couch.

Brad reassured his father. She was safe and had stayed at his apartment. Jim asked to speak with his wife. Brad told his father to wait; his mother had gotten up and went into the bedroom to lie down curl up under the covers. Brad brought the phone over to his resting mother. As she spoke a few terse words with her husband, 

Brad became intensely aware of her nudity. His cock started to harden, right in front of his Mom. She sat up on the bed and crawled to the edge where her son was standing. As Brad took back the phone continued to fend off his father's enquiries, Karin took her two hands, cupped her son's hard cock and pulled it deep into her mouth. 

The voice of his father faded into nowhere as the sweet hotness of his mother's mouth and her wicked snaking tongue sucked on her boy's now revived cock, commanding it to give up another outpouring of her son's love.

FIVE MONTHS LATER:

It had been at least two weeks since Karin had been able to visit her son at his apartment, and she was in an incredibly tense, aggravated mood. She hadn't been feeling all that well as of late, either, and that did nothing to improve her mood. Jim had to fly out on business that morning, and he wouldn't be back for another three days. Brad had come by to drive his dad to the airport, and he promised Jim that he would check in and perhaps stay with Mom. So where was Brad? The plane had taken off almost two hours ago. 

Finally she heard Brad's car drive up in the driveway. When Brad came in, Karin was awaiting: "Where have you been? You said that you would be here over an hour ago!"

Brad responded sheepishly, "I'm sorry Mom. Dad was as disorganized as usual at the airport, and the traffic was nightmare going in" 

Karin shot back, "It doesn't matter! You know this is a difficult time, even more so than usual with your father, and I haven't been feeling well." Mom certainly seemed a bit out of sorts these days, Brad thought. 

He tried to calm her nerves by responding, "I know Mom, and I'm here, okay?"

Karin brusquely went upstairs toward the bedroom, and tersely asked the housekeeper, Maria, what she was still doing there. Brad went upstairs and called Maria over. "Look, my Mom's not been feeling her usual self; look, take this and you can go early. It's Friday; take the day off. My father won't be back until Monday afternoon, and Mom will be back at her office on Monday morning; you can come back then."

Karin awaited impatiently in her bedroom for Maria to leave. The fifteen minutes seemed like another fifteen years, but finally she heard Brad show her out. The house was suddenly quiet. Another five minutes. And then she heard her son bounding up the stairs and walking up toward the bedroom she shared with his father.

She was beginning to feel much better than she had this morning; she was feeling better with every step she heard coming toward her and her husband's bedroom. As she waited, Karin began. She let down her dark brown hair, which had been fixed up in a swirl at the back of her head. She was wearing an ankle length peasant dress that left her shoulders bared. Her full breasts, which were now larger than ever, jiggled provocatively under the thin fabric. 

A narrow elastic band held the dress up over her breasts. There was another band drawing in her waist. She was barefoot. Her breathing was rapid as was her pulse. She stepped out of the bedroom to greet him.

"I missed you." Karin finally said. Brad added reassuringly, "I missed you, too." They kissed, chastely, as any proper mother and son. Then Karin began to interrogate her son: "Did everyone go?" 

Brad replied, "Yes." Karin countered, "Did you lock all of the doors?" Brad responded in the positive, but Karin kept up with the thousand questions until Brad said with exasperated finality," Yes, Mom, yes, okay? Would you just trust me? Everything is just fine. I saw Dad get on board the airplane and I watched it take off."

Brad then placed his arm around her waist and gently but hurriedly guided her into the bedroom. He could feel the firmness of her body and its heat through her dress as she leaned her head against his, as she was lead in toward her marital bed, exactly where she had been waiting for so long to go. 




For Mom, The Son Also Rises



They were both thoroughly ready. Brad held her close, feeling her big, spongy-sweet breasts against his chest. Her mouth was against his neck; her breath warm, moist; her lips brushing his exposed skin. 

She moved her head back. Her brown eyes stared up into his; her lips bright red and hungry. He combed her dark bangs away from her eyes. 

They had been lovers now for five months. But as in all extramarital affairs, Karin had to juggle her time with her husband and her hot young man. It had been two weeks since she last had a chance to sneak out visit him at his apartment in the dead of night. That's the night Brad awoke that evening to see his mother standing naked beside his bed; her clothes lying on the floor; the dark furry triangle of hair between her thighs; the fine, glistening outline of her slit. She would have son then, and she wanted him now. 

He sat on the bed, at the place his father had been sleeping but a few hours earlier. Brad felt his cock swelling and palpitating against the clinging fabric of his bikini underwear under his jeans. Then he felt her hand touching, stroking, him there. She was squeezing lovingly as she was demandingly. She was telling him that she had a need, now more than ever, that he had to fulfill. 

His fingers found the zipper tab and pulled it down to the small of her back. As he undid the hooks of her bra, he heard her sharp intake of breath. She moved closer, grinding her pelvis toward him. 

One of her hands reached for his buckle while the other continued to massage his fully erect cock through the cloth of his jeans. Quickly, as she'd obviously performed the action many times before, she unzipped and pulled his jeans down. As he frantically unbuttoned his shirt, she quickly peeled off his tiny underwear. He felt the soft palm of her hand move around the swollen staff of his cock. She began pumping him sweetly. She was beginning to moan approvingly. So was he. She eagerly began kissing the muscular chest, murmuring hot, private words meant only for her son.

Kicking off his shoes, Brad swept them aside and his bikini underwear with his foot. He was naked. He was very hard, his cock was throbbing and oozing. Normally she would take his hard sweet flesh into her mouth, covering, caressing, tasting and cajoling it with her flickering tongue. He would work magic on her pussy and clit with his tongue and lips in just the same way. But it had been two weeks. The hunger too cruel to linger over appetizers.

He stood before his mother and suddenly jerked her dress completely down, letting it drape on the floor around her feet. Only her bikini panties kept them from what he so desperately wanted and she so deeply needed. 

She made tiny gasping sounds as he laid her down suddenly on her marriage bed. She pulled him down with her and they fell onto it, her arms encircling his neck. She caressed his face with lustful, needful kisses. She nipped at his lips with her teeth, sucking on his tongue and moaning hungrily, while he flicked his tongue over her lips. It was time. Again. He couldn't wait. She didn't want him to, either. He ripped the panties right down off her long, smooth legs. She gasped approvingly.

She lay all the way back on the bed, writhing naked and alluringly as he kneeled between her thighs, her big tits rising and falling with her hollow, hot breathing, and her dark haired pussy bush inviting in all of its sacred, maternal beauty. She wasn't going to wait any longer. She gripped his cock with both hands. 

Sighing, she feverishly guided her son toward her now very steamy, slippery slit. He reached down toward the hot, frothing fountain between her long, luscious Mommy legs. She could feel the palm of his hand brush the glistening hairs of her dribbling cunt. Then she gasped sharply as his spit-moistened fingertips teased open her fat, wet pussy lips and rubbed her quivering clit.

Electric sensations suddenly raced from between her legs up to her big tits and right on throughout her body. She tensed with expectation and ecstasy.

She moved her Mommy legs farther apart. She raised and bended them back in hot invitation. He quickly accepted and slipped forward between her legs. She took his cock in her hand and held it against her dripping cunt. Both Mommy and son were moaning and panting deliriously now. There was but for a moment a breathless, torturous anticipation. 

Brad's cock was pressing hard upon his Mom's slick, slippery cunt lips. She gasped out loud, "OH, YES!" That's when she felt his cockhead begin to slide into her. The big cockhead split apart the two wet, swollen, and slippery lips marking the sentry of her womanhood. The invader passed through the portal to unspeakable, sinful, and searing pleasure. She was so wet and hot, her love canal took not only all of him, but started its telltale fluttering. His cock disappeared between her legs, deep into her furry, slick slit, deep into her wet, hot depths, deep into her smoldering, molten center. Her legs were spread wide in the air, as he sank his cock to her core and impaled her to his father's bed.

As he slid in, she howled in triumph while her hands frantically gripped his asscheeks, pulling him deeper. Such sensations! His belly rubbed against hers. His throbbing dick filled her up so deep inside. Her cunt was tight. Her pussy was wet. Her love hole was hot. Her fingers squeezed his asscheeks. The tips of her nails trailed tantalizingly over his balls, shooting tingling sensations up and down his spine.

Such sensations! Karin's hand slipped down between her legs and his and cupped his big, roiling balls. She began to massage them in rhythm, and the tingling sensations became an electric overload that shot to the tip of his cock and right up to his brain.


She suddenly wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him instantly deeper into her, holding him in her, milking his manhood with her maternal love. She pulled his face down to hers. Her tongue snaked into into his mouth. She was sucking on his tongue just as her hot pussy was trying to swallow up every inch of his hot, wildly twitching cock. 

She was wild with sensations. They thrust madly. They gasped and moaned, commanding and begging each other, "Fuck me! Ohhh, God, Ohhh, God!" In no time at all, Brad and Karin, son and Mom, were wailing those telltale commands to each other: Oh! Yes! Cum, oh darling, cum now, just for me! Yes! That's it! CUM!!" 

Then they frantically ground into each other, Karin tightening her legs around his waist. She flexed her cunt muscles, milking him, sucking him, conquering him, willing him to fuck, fill her, and cum inside her.

It worked. He tensed up. His sinewy muscles stretched taut as Sheffield steel. He began pumping his hips into her hard and fast. 

Then she gasped loudly as he buried his cock to its root deep into the very boiling hot core of her cunt, plunging his being into her molten center on the verge of drenching her fluttering cunt walls with strand after strand of his hot, stored-up cum. Toes curled, legs wrapped so tightly around her son's waist, Karin's pussy suddenly collapsed in convulsive flutters spurting cunt cream to announce her intense orgasm. And then with a sharp, quick thrust, her son gave in too, and cried out his own surrender: "Ohhhh...OH, MOM! I'm gonna CUM!!" 

Cum he did! His thing suddenly bulged. And with their mutual cries and moans of bliss, a son's cock began spewing long torrents of hot cum deep into his mother's body, squirting his creamy load with the gushing, hot, intense force only a son can achieve when between the legs and deep in the pussy of his own beautiful Mom.

Afterward he lay atop her, spent and triumphant. She was satiated, proud, and at peace. And then they lay still together, their wet, sticky bodies intertwined, perfumed in sweat, cum, and pussy juice.

They lay together, unmoving, for a long time. The rest of the house was empty and silent. Her husband–––Brad's father–––was a world away, if he ever existed but to help create his wife's most perfect lover, her son. Oblivious to the stain on their soul, and reveling in their stains on the bed, Mother and sons' lips gently brushed again and again before their mouths locked together in a tender, warm kiss. Sweet slumber took them both away.

The phone rang. Karin reluctantly rolled from the warmth of her lover's embrace and moved toward the edge of the bed and toward the garish bell of the phone. Rubbing the deep, blissful sleep from her eyes, she returned to the now darkened room and picked up the receiver. 

"Yes?" she murmured sleepily. It was Jim, her husband and her son's father.

He asked her, "Hey, honey. Are you feeling any better?" 

"She replied, sleepily, Yes," and added after a moment's hesitation. "Yes, I'm feeling much better."

The perfunctory conversation continued as Jim seemed to want to know why his wife seemed so ill that morning, " You sounded terrible this morning. Maybe it was something you ate? Or maybe you're coming down with the bug." Karin answered distractedly, Ummm…Um-hmm, maybe." 

Jim thought her tone was a bit off, but that would make sense, as she seemed to have come down with stomach flu that morning, what with her feeling so nauseous that morning. Obviously, Jim thought, he called as his wife was still resting. When taking Jim to the airport, Brad had promised him to drop in on Karin. So, Jim decided to change tack and find out if Brad had kept his word, asking "Did our son come by to check on you?"

That seemed to awaken Karin, and she responded, "Oh, yes, yes he did." The question triggered the tingle deep in her pussy that was equal parts a stirring hunger and the earlier, hot deposit of jizz settling in. Karin added, "Umm-mmm. I'm spending the weekend with our son."

That put Jim's mind at ease, for now Brad could care for his ailing mother while keeping an eye on her. After all, she was still Jim's very sexy trophy wife. Jim added, "Well, that's great. A Mom and son should be able to keep each other out of trouble."

"Uh, huh," Karin smiled, and for a moment one could discern an almost wickedly satisfied smile of the cat on her face, as if she had not only eaten the bird, but Tweedie Bird, the Road Runner, and Big Bird as well. Jim reminded her to pick him up at the airport the following Monday evening, since their son, Brad, would be back at his own home. Jim didn't feel it right to further inconvenience his son, and Karin agreed. Duly satisfied that he did his husbandly duty to check on his wife, Jim said goodnight and hung up.

Karin was so happy. Three more days with her son, her lover, in her own house, in her own bed. And they would make love, fuck, and fulfill each other, as he would fill her with cum, breaking only for bed, baths, and nourishment.

Karin hung the phone up and glanced warmly at her son sleeping in the nude next to her. 

She got up to go to the bathroom and would be back before he awoke. She loved her son so much, and she couldn't wait to show him, again and again. But first she had some news, and hopefully it would be great news.

Naked, she stood in front of the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. Turning sideways, she placed her palm against her tummy and the other on her breast. Oh, yes, she was beginning to show. She wouldn't be able to hide it much longer. Her tummy was becoming larger, fuller, and fleshier. So were her breasts. The pink nipples were super sensitive. She was sexually aroused all the time. She was absolutely in love. Insatiable, too. 

She walked back to the bed and stood looking adoringly upon her naked son. At twenty-five years old, he was a beautiful young man. Her mind was racing but her soul was calm. Her heart was beating, as was her love. Her son began to stir, and she slipped under the covers and into his warmth. His skin was so smooth and warm as his body was taut and hard. He smelled sweet like her baby and strong like her man. He was both. 

She reached down to caress his cock, and it immediately stirred. Her pussy was stirring, too, full and wet, as her tummy was stirring with new life. Their lips met, their tongues tenderly flailing in each other's eager mouths. Karin pulled her son's hand from her pussy bush and placed it on her tummy, pressing it there still with her hand. Brad's sleepy eyes widened. That's all she had to do. Karin was suddenly nervous. How would her son take the news that he was to be a father?

Softly, perhaps nervously, she said to her son: "Oh, yes, my love, you're going to have a new brother…who'll be your first…SON…or maybe a new sister…who'll would be your first DAUGHT…"

He cut her off in mid sentence with the most tender and deep of kisses. And as the warmth of the new life in her tummy glowed, so too did Karin's flesh deep between her thighs and below her furry triangle. He rolled her tenderly on her back. Her legs parted for him once again and then crossed tightly around his back. He wrapped her up in his love and passionately pressed his body onto hers, giving being in all his nakedness to his most beloved. And she trembled in happiness and excitement, as she prepared to receive another hot, wet, and life-giving sacrament from a son, a sacrament for a son's most passionate love for his Mom.



For Mr. Right



Dear Mr. Right,

I don't know you yet, I haven't found you, but I wanted to tell you about some of the things I hope we can experience together. Forgive me if my writing is sporadic and unrealistic. As you will know, by the time and/or if I let you read this, I am limited in my experience, so I may not fully know what is and isn't possible. As you know, you were my first who I went all the way with. Before you I'd had a few encounters where I'd sucked and played with cocks and had my pussy licked and fingered, but I chose to wait until I found you to ever have a cock in my tight pussy. I'm glad I waited. It was getting difficult, but it means a lot to me that you're my first and hopefully it means a lot to you too. 

I also said if you ever read this, because I'm sure as you know I can be pretty shy when it comes to sex. It's going to be hard for me to write this 1. because of my shyness and 2. because it turns me on to think about how these ideas would play out. 

As you also know, I am not that wild of a person, especially in the bedroom. I give off a pretty innocent front, and though I'm not quite as innocent in the bedroom, I'm also not into outrageous things. I'm pretty standard when it comes to what I like. It's the little things and unexpected things that turn me on. I hope that we can try some of these things and that some will give you ideas of how you could surprise me. Some of these ideas I've thoroughly thought out and others are general plots I hope we can develop together. 

First, I guess one of the simple things to get me loosened up about writing, would be to tell you how I love it when you hold me. Any chances you get, please just hold me, or at least hold my hand. I'm not into, and don't ever plan to be into, exhibition but I sure think it'd be fun to sneak touches here and there. If we're out with friends at a restaurant I'd love for you to touch me under the table and vice versa. I'm really only turned on if I know I'm turning you on. Or if we're standing somewhere, again I would love for you to wrap me in your arms, but it'd be even better if my back was facing you and I could press my butt against your crotch. And if your hands were wrapped around me so that your fingers could lightly enough rub the bottom of my breasts, but that no one else would notice. I'd love for us to sneak touches in the car, movies, subway, airplane, wherever possible, but not enough to get caught. Wouldn't it be cool on an airplane to have the tray tables down and be touching underneath them? It seems it would be fairly unnoticeable in most moments. Really, I'm not into tons of PDA. I don't like to watch other people grope each other or make-out in public. So, I don't want to become one of them.

I'd love for us to go to a sex shop together. It'd be fun to look at all the different toys and games. Hopefully we could find some that we could use. And whether or not we bought something, I think it would turn me on just to be in one of those shops with you. 

We should definitely figure out some games we could play, and themes. Like why not play doctor?

I'd find it really sweet and sexy if you'd find time while you're at work, on trips, or whatever to text me dirty things, tell me what you wish you could be doing to me right then, or better yet what you wish I was doing to you. Additionally, I'd also find it just as sweet if you would surprise me some days and call me during lunch break just to say hello. If either of us ever has to go on a trip without the other, it might be fun to have phone sex if there was an opportunity to. 

I hope we can watch each other masturbate some. I'm not into domination/submissiveness; I prefer a 2-laned road. However I do think it'd be fun to tell each other what to do to ourselves, and not do any more than we're told. Maybe the other party would jump in occasionally to explain what they're asking to be done. And it'd be fun and interesting to find out how you masturbate and give yourself maximum pleasure. 

I wish occasionally you would fuck my pussy with a dildo, so you could be real close to my pussy and watch it go in and out. At the same time you could lick and suck on my clit, you know how much I enjoy that. 

I've tried it before and it just didn't work well, but I really hope we can find a way to have fun in the shower and/or bathtub. I also hope we can go swimming nude sometime, whether it's a pool or hot tub.

Would you consider letting me watch you pee and/or holding your cock for you as you pee? I can't explain it well but some aspects about pee have always turned me on. I'm not trying to be gross. For instance, in men I think I like hearing and seeing them pee because it's like watching when cum shoots out of the cock. From a woman's perspective, I cannot tell you how or why but sometimes when I have to pee real badly, at the same time it actually feels good to hold it in for a bit. It somehow feels like it's touching my g-spot or something. Medically, I can't explain it but physically it feels good, sometimes. 

Like I said, I'm not into exhibition, but it might be as equally fun if late one night when we're pretty sure no one else is around/awake to find some place outside to play. Maybe we have a trampoline we can play on, or in a tree house. Wouldn't it be fun to swing like we did when we were kids, except this time we'd be naked, you know how one sits on the swing normally and the other sits on their lap facing the opposite direction. 

It might be fun to spend a weekend nude around the house. If we knew we didn't have anything else to do that weekend, it would be fun to wake up nude together, play, and just never get dressed. That way at any time we could start playing with each other while watching TV, or whatever. Or maybe there will be times you'll surprise me by not having anything on under a robe or not many articles/layers of clothes on period. 

Whatever happens sexually or non-sexually, I just want you to always be honest with me. I want to be your one and only. That's why I waited for you to go all the way with. So whatever I need to do to keep you interested, please talk to me. I will always be faithful, so I expect no less from you. You know I'm a worry wart, and I'm always going to be concerned that I'm not turning you on enough. So I hope verbally or otherwise you can let me know every so often that I do turn you on. Like I said before, it really turns me on if I turn you on. I also hope that somehow we can find a way to become one sexually. I dream of knowing how and what you're feeling, and just want to make sure I'm doing what I can to have that feeling reach its highest point. 

With love & anticipation,

Me



For Mutual Benefit



Bernice Giraud was a devious and scheming woman. She would not have been the successful businesswoman that she was if she had not been so. However, what she was planning for today had nothing to do with business, this was far more important than mere commerce.

They had been married for thirty years, and had been lovers for several years before that. Bernice felt that the love that she shared with her husband Yves was still as strong as when they had exchanged their vows all those years ago. But two children, her illness, the hysterectomy and the early onset of the menopause had taken their toll on the physical expression of the love she felt for her husband. She still enjoyed the kissing and the cuddling, even the way he would creep up behind her and fondle her breasts as she stood at the kitchen sink or was engaged in some other household chore. It pleased her greatly that Yves so obviously still found her attractive. This however was counterbalanced by the sadness that she felt that she could no longer open her body to him as freely as she had done when they were both younger. 

At the height of her illness sex was uncomfortable, even painful to the point that she would reject even his most innocent expressions of physical affection, fearing that any advance was just another prelude to sex and the pain that that would cause her. That time was now in the past, two operations had robbed her not only of her uterus, but her ovaries as well, such was the severity of her condition. This had left Bernice felling empty, unattractive, no longer the woman that she had once been. The infection that had been eating away at the insides had been conquered, but recovery was long and slow. It had taken years before she could happily welcome her husband again between her thighs. 

At the time when his wife needed his love and understanding the most was also the time of Yves greatest sexual frustration. He had slipped from the straight and narrow, and sought to ease his frustrations between the legs of younger, willing, more enthusiastic women. Mostly he had to pay for the services of these young women. In a way the fact that this sex was a commercial transaction helped to ease the guilt that he felt. He still loved his wife very much, he was not seeking the love of another woman but the demands of his libido were hard to ignore and masturbation alone was not enough.

Bernice knew that her husband had strayed, a wife always knows. No word of his transgressions had reached her from friends or gossiping neighbours who loved nothing as much as finding out some juicy bit of scandal about someone that they knew. At least one point in Yves favour was that he was being discrete and not bringing the shame of scandal on his wife. But the nagging doubts about her husband's fidelity persisted; sooner or later she would have to confront him. 

It was the little things that gave him away, the smug secret smile that he tried to hide when he came home from one of his secret liaisons, the slight swagger in his step. The most obvious sign was that Yves became more attentive, more obviously concerned with his wife's well-being, less demanding that she should do her wifely duty to satisfy his lust. These were exactly the signs of a guilty husband that Bernice's mother had described to her years ago when her father had played away.

At first she was angry and repulsed by her husband's infidelities then she tried to see his point of view. He was obviously frustrated, often he would press his powerful erection against her back during the night or in the mornings and reach round to fondle her breast, only for her to push him away. The extra time he spent in the shower whilst he masturbated. Oh yes she could clearly hear the familiar sounds he made as he orgasmed, through the thin wall that separated their bedroom from the bathroom. These were almost exactly the same sounds as she had heard her sons making in the bathroom from almost immediately the moment that they had reached puberty. The memory made Bernice smile, how the sounds of her sons' bathroom masturbations had so soon be replaced by their girlfriends delighted squeals and cries frequently emanating from the boy's bedrooms as they enjoyed the pleasures of making vigorous youthful love.

Sex had never been a taboo subject in the Giraud household, in fact both Bernice and Yves had insisted that if Hugo and Serge wanted to have sex with their girlfriends they should bring them home and do so in the comfort of their own beds rather than some other less desirable, sordid place. Bernice had even added condoms to her weekly shopping list and made sure that her boys' bedside draws always contained a good supply. Like father like sons she thought to herself, Yves' libido was just as strong now as it was all those years ago when she had first dragged him to her bed and he had ploughed her youthful furrow. She had loved the length and girth of his penis then, the way it filled her up and made her feel so complete. That same beautiful penis had lost nothing with age but now it brought only pain not pleasure. Their home was often filled with the sounds of their sons' joyous sex but Yves only had his own hands to satisfy his lustful desires. Of course he was frustrated, it was only natural that he would seek satisfaction elsewhere if his own wife could not provide it. Silently Bernice forgave her husband and vowed to become more available to him.

Another night, and again Yves urgent erection pressed against Bernice's bottom, but this time instead of moving away she pushed back against his turgid flesh, allowing her mind to fill with memories of happier times and how, perhaps, they might be regained. Encouraged by his wife's reaction Yves reached round and fondled her breast. He felt her nipple hardening through the fabric of her nightdress as she made a soft moan of pleasure. A sound he had not heard from his wife for far too long. Further emboldened he reached down to lift her hem, but was frustrated when her hand clamped around his wrist to stop him. 

"Wait," She said in a quiet almost tearful voice, "before we go on I need to ask you something."

Yves replied with a grunt not certain what was coming next, but fearful of what it might be.

"Tell me that you love me Yves! Tell me that you were only fucking other women because I would not let you fuck me." 

Yves was shocked, he thought he had been so careful for so long but his guilt had now to be confronted. 

"I do love you so much my darling" he croaked, tears now welling in his eyes, "I am so sorry that I have hurt you. I..."

"Shush," she cut him off feeling his contrition. "I am sorry too my love, I should never have pushed you away. Just be patient my darling, I want to feel you inside me again but I am still afraid that that will only hurt me again. But I think I know a different way that we can make love if you will let me try?"

Without waiting for a reply Bernice slipped out of bed and divested herself of the long shapeless nightdress that she was wearing. It was a long time since she had been naked with her husband. They used to sleep naked together all the time. They both loved the freedom of nudity even favouring naturist resorts as the locations for their summer holidays. However this had changed when Bernice had became ill, then she had taken to wearing 'passion killer' nightdresses as armour to fend off her husband's unwelcome advances. Her muscles had healed well since the last operation but she still had an ugly red scar just above her pubic mound. She was afraid that Yves would find that disfigurement repulsive and had avoided being naked in his sight for several months. Now she had to be strong and put her fears aside to demonstrate to her husband that she was still his and he hers. From her dressing table she collected a small bottle that she had bought that morning then she returned to the marital bed.

In the few moments that had passed Yves' erection had deflated but this didn't deter Bernice from her mission. She squirted a generous amount of liquid from that bottle on to her hand and began to caress her husband's penis. The liquid was a lubricant, the warming kind, the Sales Assistant in the sex shop had assured Bernice that both she and her husband would find it most beneficial in their sexual play. Indeed Yves' penis quickly grew back to the size and hardness that they had both enjoyed so much in years past. He reached out to return her caress. 

"No!" She commanded, redirecting his hand to her chest. "Please don't touch my pussy. Play with my boobs, tease my nipples, you know how much I enjoy that. But tonight is about your pleasure not mine. Let me do this my way."

So the wife took charge once more of servicing her husband's pleasure. 

Once she was satisfied with the state of his erection she directed that she wanted them to spoon. His hands must remain on her breasts, or at least above the waist, she would look after what happened below. 

They lay nestled together, his slippery penis pressing against the cleft of his wife's naked bottom. He caressed her full breasts and large hard nipples eliciting moans of pleasure from her that were like music to his ears. She pushed back against him, her bottom squirming against his proud member, the warming gel with which she had so liberally coated him amplifying the pleasure sensations radiating from the root of his sex.

After a few minutes Bernice rearranged the way that they lay together. Still spooning but now Yves' penis was between her thighs. Not entering her, but laying along the length of her labia. Her thighs tightly squeezed together holding him in place. With some further adjustment and the aid of one hand his penis stroked against the exposed and swelling tip of her clitoris as they moved. 

Taking his cue Yves began to thrust between his wife's legs. The feelings he was receiving were almost, but not quite like fucking. The sensations were familiar, but just slightly different, but no less pleasurable for the difference. 

Here again she had made careful preparation for her husband's pleasure. Her pubic hair, which had grown unkempt during the time of her abstinence, she had trimmed back to a neat patch on her pubic mound, the way she had kept in her youth. Also she had shaved smooth the coarse hairs that had grown so readily at the junction of her legs. She wanted her husband to feel only soft flesh against his, that way, she hoped, the enclosure of her thighs would make an acceptable substitute for the passage of her vagina.

The purely carnal pleasures that Yves was enjoying could not quiet mask the true deep joy of love that now filled his heart. Oh yes, he had been with some whores, some so jaded that they merely lay below him making false moans of simulated pleasure while he spent his lust. Others, younger, more enthusiastic in their fucking, barely older than his own sons' girlfriends for whom he had secretly lusted and fantasised about while he masturbated. Still these girls youthful enthusiasm, their noisy orgasms, faked or real, only gave their affection to him by the hour and in exchange for a hundred Euros or so. No money, no fuck. Certainly no love involved in those transactions. 

This however transcended all those sordid encounters, what he was experiencing now was possibly the best fuck of his life. Not just for any of the reasons that men usually used to measure the quality of a fuck, although the sensations that he was feeling promised an orgasm that would be measurable on the Richter Scale. No more than that, much more. The woman sacrificing herself on the alter of his lust was his own dear wife. The woman whose love he had betrayed. A less compassionate woman would have ranted and raved and threatened divorce. No, Bernice had offered contrition for her neglect of his needs and given herself for his pleasure. This wasn't anything as crude as fucking this was lovemaking of the highest order.

What she had planned as a purely selfless act Bernice now discovered was transforming into something else. Her memory was so clouded by the pain that the last attempts lovemaking had brought she had almost forgotten how it felt to be sexually aroused. The warming gel with which she had so generously coated her husband's penis had transferred to her crotch. Its lubricating properties mixed with her own, surprisingly copious, secretions were making this the wettest coupling she could remember. 

The warmth was working other magic on her body as well. Her body was reacting at a most primitive level as hormones overrode conscious thought. Her clitoris had swollen up to its greatest extent and was fully unsheathed. Her outer and inner labia were engorged, open, ready to accept her man's invading rod. It would be so easy now to let him slip inside, she thought. Let him fill her up with his beautiful cock and pump her full of his hot spunk as he had done so often in the past. Only her fear of pain held her back and judging from the noises he was making, that her man was only seconds away from orgasm. 

Her own orgasm came almost as a surprise. So bent she was on giving Yves pleasure the increasing shocks of pleasure that she was receiving from her clitoris had all but been ignored. Then the great wave of ecstasy hit her causing her body to convulse, she cried out, the wail of the she-wolf impaled. Rarely had she been so loud in orgasm, but this one had been a long time waiting. Moments later Yves emitted a bear like roar and shot his hot seed into the hand Bernice had cupped at her crotch. Still they kept at their simulated fucking as if possessed by demons, beyond the extent of Yves pleasure and into the zone of hyper-sensitivity and pain. Violently he pulled away form his wife and curled into the foetal position, cupping his deflating genitals in is hands, he lay there shaking and sobbing. 

Bernice felt guilt at causing her husband pain, yet, the guilt was tempered by the sweetness of a small revenge for the pain he had caused in her. 

The moment passed, she comforted her husband, and very soon they fell asleep naked in each others arms, something else that they had not done for far too long. 





For Mutual Benefit



Bernice had decided that lunching at the Chartier would serve to throw her husband further off the scent of the nature of her intended gift. He might wonder why she had not chosen somewhere more up-market for his birthday lunch, but this was a particular special favourite of theirs. The place was large, busy and noisy. It's history going back over a hundred years, it had been the haunt of artists, poets, philosophers and radicals during the latter half of the nineteenth century and well into the twentieth. Now it was popular both with Parisian business people and tourists alike. The food was simple, but well prepared and presented. Service was quick but the diners where not hurried to finish their meals and make room for newcomers. To the French a meal, however simple, is almost a sacrament it is something to be savoured, respected and most of all never rushed. 

One couldn't usually book for lunch at the Chartier, unless perhaps you could promise to bring in a large party. You just turned up and were seated where there was space, even if this meant queuing until a place became available. Couples and singles got priority in the queue as they were easier to seat. No tables were exclusive, if a couple were seated at a table for four or more, which most of them were, another couple or a single would be seated at the same table. This usually meant no one had to wait too long to be seated and sometimes led to some interesting encounters. It was this very aspect of this restaurant that Bernice wanted to exploit to execute her plan. The planned encounter had to be stage-managed with great care to be sure it would work. Bernice knew the right strings to pull to make things work and for this she had tugged them hard. She had even given the Maitre d'hôtel photographs of themselves and her surprise guest to be sure that there would be no mistakes in the seating. 

A few minutes after they were seated and the waiter had taken their order for aperitifs another woman was ushered to their table. A stranger to Yves, but Bernice leapt up and greeted her as if she was a long lost friend. 

"Monique, darling how wonderful" she gushed pausing only to kiss her friend on both cheeks the way that French women do. The two women prattled on, for what seemed like ages to Yves, exchanging news and titbits of gossip about other apparently mutual friends of whom he had also never heard, while he was left to stand politely and wait to be introduced...

"Darling, I'm so sorry." Bernice eventually declared to her husband. "This is Monique a dear friend of mine. Monique this is my husband Yves." 

"Delighted to meet you Madame." Yves formally greeted the interloper shaking her hand.

"And you also Monsieur." she replied with equal formality. 

At last they sat, the two women on one side of the table Yves on the other, and set about the important business of ordering and consuming their meal. 

The women's chatter continued through the meal, sometimes including Yves, sometimes not. Occasionally one of the women whispered something to the other, this was followed by glance towards Yves, then a whispered reply accompanied by giggles. When Yves tried to discover the reason for the giggles he was told it was just girl talk, not important. Then the conversation was swiftly moved on.

Such was the convincing nature of their performance that Yves would never have guessed that the two women had only met three times before, the first time only about two weeks ago when Bernice had interviewed Monique to judge her suitability, the second time just yesterday to plan and rehearse this 'accidental' meeting. The third only little more than an hour ago while Yves was kept waiting for his date with his wife.

Yves could not help but notice the striking similarity between the two women in front of him. Monique looked very much like Bernice had done twenty years or so ago. She had the same Mediterranean complexion as his wife, the same glossy black hair. Her breasts, maybe a cup-size or two smaller than his wife's he guessed, were proud and carried high on her chest. The top of her blouse open just enough to reveal a tantalising glimpse of cleavage but not so much to appear cheap or tarty. He had noticed when she had first arrived at their table that her legs where long and shapely her skirt was short, but not immodest. She was gorgeous, almost the living embodiment of what he thought of as his ideal woman. After his own dear wife naturally, he guiltily corrected himself.

He knew nothing of course of the painstaking care his wife had taken over the previous weeks searching out and eventually finding the right woman for the job she had in mind. She had considered friends, members of her family, a distant cousin came close to the ideal but she lived too far away for things to work out as she wished. She turned her attention to the internet, specifically adult dating sites, exchanging messages, then e-mails with several 'possibles' only to reject them. Eventually she found:

'Hot & Sexy Monique, Parisienne, 34, Divorced, No children, Seeks older man for no-strings-attached fun.' 

E-mails were exchanged probing questions asked and satisfactorily answered. A long time was spent on the telephone. Then two weeks ago they met, Monique was ideal, the photos that she had sent did not do justice to her true beauty. The fact that she looked so much like Bernice herself was the icing on the cake. 

Between dessert and coffee Monique excused herself from the table for a few minutes and Bernice moved around next to her husband. She lent over to him and whispered into his ear so her voice would not carry over the background buzz of the conversations around them: 

"What do you think of Monique, isn't she lovely, does she remind you of anyone by any chance?"

"Yes she is and she does. She looks almost the same as you did when you were her age."

"Better than that I hope, she is older than she looks, I was a wreck at her age." She shivered at the memory. "But let's not dwell on those days. Tell me do you fancy her, would you like to take her to bed, do you want to... fuck her?" 

For a few moments the question was left hanging. Yves was not often lost for words but now he was dumbstruck and he stared at is wife in confusion and disbelief. Except in rare moments of extreme anger Bernice never used what she considered to be coarse language in public, but behind the closed bedroom door she had no qualms about using 'dirty talk' to season their lovemaking. So her use of the word 'fuck' so emphatically here must have special significance. 

Having not received a reply Bernice continued: 

"She is quite taken with you. I can't see her objecting if you did try to get her into bed. What is more my love, neither would I!" 

Another pause, another look of confused disbelief verging on awe passed from husband to wife as the full meaning of what she was telling him began to sink in. Again she continued her whispered monologue:

"Your happiness my darling is the most important thing in my life. I know that I can't satisfy you in the way that you would like me to, so if that means that you have to sleep with another woman so be it. I just want to know who it is and that I can trust her. But now we have teased you enough. Yes Yves, your present, it's Monique. Happy birthday my darling, I do so very much hope that you enjoy her."

Still unable to speak Yves simply embraced his wife and kissed her with sudden passion.

"Good that's settled then." 

She declared as she disengaged herself from his embrace then moved back to the other side of the table as Monique, who had been waiting just out of sight for her cue, returned. A glance and almost imperceptible nods were exchanged by the women then Monique sat down beside Yves. She looked him deep in the eyes for a long moment. Then:

"Yes?" she simply asked.

"Oh, yes please." Came his breathy reply.

"Superb," interjected Bernice. "Now let's finish our coffee, settle the bill, then you Yves can take your birthday present for a test drive." 

A few minutes later found the three of them, the husband, the wife and the mistress, in front of the grand entrance steps of a Five Star hotel on Boulevard Haussmann. 

"I have booked a room for you, in here." Bernice told the other two nodding her head towards the hotel entrance. "Now go and enjoy yourselves and I shall see you both at home about midday tomorrow. I'm sure there will be a lot that we shall need to talk about." 

With that she embraced and kissed them both then quickly walked away, hoping that the other two had not seen the tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes. Fervently hoping, nay praying, that she had done the right thing.

It was a most memorable 'test drive' Yves reflected later. That afternoon, evening, night and the following morning that he had spent in bed with Monique. No not just the bed he corrected himself, the shower, the Jacuzzi bath, the bathroom counter. The new lovers had made use of every facility provided by the expensive hotel room that Bernice had secured for them. Fuelled by a good lunch, copious amounts of champagne, club sandwiches and aided by the pharmaceutical help, in the form of a blue diamond shaped tablet, of Sildenafil citrate; a thoughtful addition present from Bernice to her husband and his new mistress. This was some of the best, most prolonged and varied sex that Yves had ever enjoyed. In her youth Bernice had been the most vigorous and demanding lover but even at her peak she would have been hard pressed to match the almost insatiable appetite that Monique seemed to possess. 

Yves had been hesitant at first, his usually strong and confident demeanour, thrown off balance by this sudden change of situation.

He remembered that Bernice had been hurt and angry that night when she had confronted him with his infidelities. What was that, ten years ago now? Even then she had demonstrated that love and understanding were a better ways to solve the problem rather than arguments and recriminations. That very same night she had offered him her body and together they had restarted their failed sex life. Now once again their marital sex had waned but this time his loving, resourceful wife had determined that he situation should be managed differently. Not wishing her husband to stray again between the legs of some nameless stranger, but at the same time not wanting to deny his carnal desires she had found the almost perfect compromise. As a good manager she had delegated. Delegated the satisfaction of her husbands lust to someone in whom she had confidence could give satisfaction to the greatest degree. This time it was not her own body she had offered to him but that of Monique. Yves felt humbled by the love, understanding and selfless generosity again shown to him by his wife. His love for her was redoubled. 

The image of Monique when he had first seen her undressed was indelibly imprinted on Yves memory. On entering the bedroom she had quickly discarded her jacket, skirt and blouse. She stood before him clad only in her white lace bra and panties. The white fabric offset perfectly her black hair and dark Mediterranean complexion. He could clearly see the darker peaks of her nipples pressing against the white lace of her bra, the dark triangle of her pubic hair barely concealed by her brief panties. The way those panties clung to the folds of her womanhood clearly advertised that she was already highly aroused. She stood before him in a pose of supplication, arms outstretched towards him, an invitation to him to gather her up and take her.

"Happy birthday Yves" she had almost whispered in a breathy, seductive voice. "Don't you want open your birthday present, I am certain that you will enjoy it?" 

Shoes and stockings neither had she yet removed. Her high-heels accentuated the strong yet very feminine curves of her long, nylon clad, legs. Oh how Yves loved stockings. The colour was just right too, nothing as blatantly obvious as black, but a dark shade of tan that almost exactly matched her flesh tone. The high lacy welts on the stockings and the deep v cut of her panties drawing his focus to the seat of her sex. The anticipation of the feeling of cool smooth nylon brushing against his naked thighs while he drove his turgid cock into her wet willing pussy quickly banished any doubts that had remained in Yves' mind. He drew her to him in a strong embrace, they kissed deeply, hungrily with a powerful lust fired passion as she ground her crotch against his still trouser clad erection.

And that, that was only the overture to a very long night indeed. 





For Mutual Benefit



Yves too found friend in Monique. She was an intelligent, witty, well educated woman with whom he could engage in often heated discussions on a wide range of subjects. These discussions where most often conducted naked in her bed while he recovered from the ravages she had recently wreaked upon his penis with her hands, her mouth, her vagina or even her anus. Yes, Monique had introduced Yves to the hitherto unknown delights of anal sex and, judging by hints dropped and her collection of porn films that they frequently watched together as a prelude, or accompaniment, to their fucking, would not be adverse to taking him up the arse with a strap-on either. He found that prospect both fascinating and disturbing. 

Monique loved porn and she had a wide ranging collection, much of it lesbian, the true significance of which completely passed Yves by.

He had also discovered that Monique's previous marriage had been both violent and abusive. He reasoned that part of the way in which she conducted sexual relations had an element of revenge sex about them. He further deduced that ravaging a man's anus with a strap-on dildo would be her ultimate expression of revenge.

Lust was ever the cornerstone of Yves and Monique's relationship, never love, but as their friendship grew he became more relaxed with his mistress. With Yves greater relaxation so came improvements in his sexual performance. He could now keep it up longer and recover more quickly than he ever could at the beginning of their relationship much to the delight of Monique. Neither did he feel the need for pharmaceutical aid as he did at the start. Although he always kept a tablet or two handy just in case of need. 

An unexpected benefit of the arrangement was that Yves and Bernice's sex life also improved. Now that Yves' lust was being regularly and deeply sated. (He would often return home after a session with Monique staggering and in a state of sexual exhaustion.) Lovemaking with his wife became less urgent, more gentle, more loving than simply filling a need. More and more Bernice would initiate their sex, something she had not done since before her illness, often she would suggest that they used the non-penetrative method to which she had introduced him at their revival. Yves was more than happy to comply as this method brought only satisfaction for them both and none of the discomfort that she still associated with penetration. 

Bernice trusted Monique not to steal her husband away from her and that she would return him to the marital bed where he belonged once he had adequately serviced his lust and her own. Yet unconsciously she still needed the reassurance that her husband still loved her, and found her desirable. So it pleased and reassured Bernice that oral sex also began to play a much greater part in their lovemaking than it had in recent times. Before Monique their sex had often been a rush to orgasm, now there was much more touching, kissing, licking and caressing which made their couplings longer lasting much more pleasurable for them both. 





For My 40th Birthday



My name is Jennifer. I'm a thirty-nine year old divorcee and mother of two precious little boys. Of course, they aren't so little anymore for Seth just turned twelve last month and Cody will be ten next month; but they are still my babies. And like any mother, they are my whole life; my whole world and my very reason for living. I spoil them rotten and dote on them constantly. Their father and I have been divorced for nearly five years now and according to the divorce decree, he has visitation with them one night a week, every other weekend and two months over the summer. And as much as I love my little boys, I do so look forward to the weekends when they are with their father; for that is my time; my time to go hunting.

The boys and I live in a small town just to the northwest of Houston, Texas. I work as a dental hygienist, own a quaint little one story house and am an active member of both the Homeowners Association and the PTA. I drive the boys to and from school every day, help them with their homework, tuck them in every night, let them sleep in my bed during a thunderstorm, never miss a football, soccer or baseball game and allow them to have backyard camp outs with their friends all the time. To quote Reba McEntire: "I'm a single mom who works too hard, who loves her kids and never stops; with gentle hands and the heart of a provider; I'm a survivor."

But when my boys are away; that's when the "Cougar" comes out to play. 

It was just before my thirty-fifth birthday when Alex and I divorced; and though he remarried within six months, I didn't even date for almost a full year and a half. Then one night while the boys were spending the weekend with their Dad, I went out with a couple of the girls at the office to a bar, had a few too many apple martinis and ended up in bed with a much younger man.

Unfortunately, I don't remember too much about what all happened that night, but I fell madly in love with the idea that a man nearly fifteen years younger than me had found me so attractive. I went out with him a few more times and the sex was phenomenal! But that is all it was; great sex! Then just like that, he was done with me! I was half tempted to get pissed off when it suddenly dawned on me that I was free now to experiment with other young gentlemen. So I began to take "hunting" trips every weekend that the boys were with Alex; and I soon became a very avid and skilled hunter. I had several little flings with some very hot and sexy young men and began to really feel alive again. Then one evening, I was picked up by a young man and his wife. It was kind of awkward at first, but I ultimately had the time of my life, and also made the discovery of my life: making love to women! Yes, I far more enjoyed making love to the guy's wife than to him; I actually at one point forgot he was even there. The touch and taste of another woman forever captured me that night and I have not been with another man since; nor do I ever wish to be again. Nothing personal, fellas!

Being extremely inexperienced; more to the point, totally new to the whole lesbian scene, I found that hunting for women when you are a woman yourself is more than a little complicated. Again, as long as the boys were away would be the only time I would go out to play. I started off by going to a few lesbian bars and nightclubs that one of my patients had told me about. Over the course of a year, I met some very hot and sexy women. That was my only requirement; she had to be a real lady. I had no interest in dykes or butch women. Any woman I hooked up with had to be a very feminine, attractive and sexy lady; I wasn't particular about height, intelligence or even personality. After all, this was all about hot and wild sex. 

I am a rather imposing woman myself as I stand an even five-eleven. Not to toot my own horn; wait! What the hell am I saying? This is a story about hot sex. Of course to toot my own horn! My body is a lean, powerful, finely tuned athletic instrument with irresistible sexual allure. Possessing exquisite feminine muscle definition, pristine hour glass curves; all wrapped up with sultry alabaster skin and delicate feminine softness, I definitely turn heads. Combining the forward attributes with my platinum blond hair that flows fully and mystically down to my shoulder blades, my piercing sapphire blue eyes, pearly white and sparkling smile, luscious and ruby lips, firm and glamorously round 38 C-cup breasts; my friends tell me I'm a dead ringer for country singer Faith Hill.

Needless to say, I had some unbelievably hot sexual encounters with several women and learned so much about the fine art of loving and pleasing women. Even though I'd been a woman all my life, I had no idea of all the hidden springs, hot spots and wondrous ways that one woman could love and pleasure another; things men didn't have the slightest clue about. I soon started going to regular bars and nightclubs so as to put my hunting skills to the test and was finding it easier and easier now to seduce women; often many straight women who were just "curious." Sometimes, it was absolutely breathtaking to watch their faces as I pleasured them in bed; to see this inexplicable light of fulfillment blaze into their eyes as a whole new world opened up to them.

One of the most marvelous things I discovered about seducing and having sex with women is that it never gets old! It never gets boring or becomes routine; for although every woman has the same general anatomy; we are all, at the same time, very different individuals! Though we may all look the same between our legs; how we like to be touched, how we like to be held, how we like to be pleasured and most of all, how we liked to be loved varies considerably from woman to woman. Men on the other hand, are universally all one and the same when it comes to sex; they just have different names. 

No offense, guys!

As time went on, I began to hunger for the touch and taste of young flesh again. Only now it was for young female flesh! Though every woman I'd been with up to that point was beautiful, sexy, passionate and sensuous; they were all my age or older. Only a couple had been younger, but not by more than a few years. For some reason, very few really young women seemed to frequent the clubs and bars I did; even those that were of legal age to do so. Call me a dirty old broad or pervert if you want, but I was craving buxom young female flesh like a vampire craves blood. 

On the tenth of July 2010, I celebrated my fortieth birthday. Now while so many women dread the big four-oh; I completely embraced it, for I don't believe that a woman is truly considered a "cougar" until she is at least forty. I decided that I would really treat myself; and I think you know what I mean. It was summer and the boys were away for the next month and a half with their father. Summer also means bright sunshine and stifling heat; and with bright sunshine and stifling heat come short pants with taut, bubbled asses and long tan legs, tank tops with bulging cleavage as well as tan sexy shoulders and arms. And of course, the bikinis! And with bikinis came all of the above; and a lot more!

I spent the afternoon preparing my bedroom for my birthday night feast; setting out lots of scented candles and incense as well as spreading rose petals all over the floor and made up the bed with silk sheets. I talked to the boys on the phone around six and then jumped in the shower. I decided to dress casually for I was planning an entirely new approach down a totally uncharted path. Up to now, the youngest woman I'd been with was twenty-eight; but tonight, I was going younger. Much, much younger! I wanted a girl that was young enough to be my daughter; twenty at the minimum, with eighteen being ideal. I know that sounds terrible; almost incestuous, but I didn't care. Just the thought of it got me hotter than a volcano.

I slipped on a pair of white khaki shorts without panties, a tight red tank top without a bra and a pair of flip-flops. I primed and pruned my face, let my platinum blond hair hang free over my shoulders, snapped up my purse and headed out the door. Wanting to be discreet for the sake of my sons and of my standing in our small community, I drove to the next town which was about twenty miles away. My plan was based on a very simple principle: to hunt on what most potential prey would consider safe grounds. Just as you are not likely to be attacked by a lion in Time Square or to be eaten by a Great White Shark in the Colorado Rockies, a predator is far more likely to make a successful kill if she stalks her prey where she is not ordinarily known or expected to hunt. 

I arrived at a CiCi's Pizza at around quarter to eight. My boys absolutely love eating at the one in our town for it's all you can eat pizza with a full game room. I've also noticed that it is a very popular place for teenagers to eat and hangout for it is relatively inexpensive; and many of those teenagers are beautiful girls trying desperately to look much older by dressing like slutty little vixens and outright whores. So delicious! 

Along with the pizza buffet, there is also a salad bar, so I made myself a small salad and filled a glass with some iced tea. I took a seat at a table along the glass front of the building so as to have a full view of the restaurant as well as an unobstructed view of the parking lot. The entrance was directly behind me and the exit was right in front of me. The place wasn't very crowded this evening; just a few young couples with small children and elderly couples with grandchildren. There was a table of five teenage boys in the far corner and I could feel their eyes on me from the moment I walked in. I was definitely a mother they'd all like to fuck! I munched casually on my salad as I flipped through a magazine I'd brought along. I went back for a refill of iced tea and continued looking through my magazine and paid the boys no mind. At last they tired of gawking at me and left. I was actually relieved, for I wanted nothing to offer distraction to my prey, if and when she ever arrived. I went back for a little more salad and as I returned to my table, I spotted a late model SUV pulling up into a parking space right next to my car along the sidewalk and three teenage girls got out.

The driver was a very tall and lanky girl; not quite as tall as me, but fairly close. She had disheveled long brown hair, miniscule breasts, rail thin arms, bony hips and bowed skinny legs. As she came closer, I saw that her face, sad to say, could make a speeding train stop, back up and take a dirt road. The poor baby was covered with heavy acne and her skin was sickly pale. The girl who exited the backseat on the passenger side was barely half the height of the driver and extremely dumpy looking. While she had a cute face, she was very chubby with stubby little legs, frazzled red hair, plump arms and I had a difficult time distinguishing where her breasts ended and her belly began. She wore clothes that were at least two sizes too small for her; definitely a girl who did not understand that spandex is a privilege and not a right. 

Turning my gaze to the girl that exited the front passenger seat, I nearly choked on the sip of iced tea I'd just taken. Shorter than the driver but taller than the backseat girl, this beauty nearly stopped my heart; not to mention completely redefined the term "exotic". First there was all her gorgeous coal black, long and glossy hair that draped immaculately down to her shoulder blades. She had flawless skin that was beautifully tanned; exquisitely shaped and sculpted legs, lean and willowy arms, toned and alluring shoulders, slim and sexy hands, a long and sleek neck and a statuesque, curvaceous figure that the deepest and darkest sexual fantasies were made of. Her ass was so picturesque it should have been against the law for her to have to sit on it, and her breasts were so impeccably proportionate to her body; flawless in shape and so youthfully firm and glamorous. Her face was a divinely inspired combination of angelic sweetness and goddess beauty.

Her eyes were plastered with heavy mascara and her cheeks where speckled lightly with glitter. Her full and pouting lips were covered in dark crimson gloss and her manicured fingernails and toenails where all painted an almost metallic shade of royal blue; and likewise, sprinkled with glitter while both her wrists were adorned with countless metal, rubber and fabric bracelets; there was a ring on every finger. 

Dressed in skin tight denim shorts, a stylish short sleeve button down white top that was tied off in a knot just below her stunning rack, which was covered by a black sports bra, I had a clear view of her perfectly flat, toned and trim tummy with its pierced button and dangling ring as she strode sexily down the sidewalk toward me. She took the lead while the other girls fell into step behind her, yet crowded up close to her. It was abundantly clear that she was the ringleader of the trio and that the other two girls hung on her every word and move. 

Though my heart was fluttering and my stomach was quivering with anticipation, I remained calm, eyeing her casually as the three of them approached the exit door right in front of me. While the other two girls continued on down the sidewalk to the entrance door, my birthday gift, as I was already calling her, opened the exit door and walked almost defiantly into the restaurant. She shot a brief and near scornful glance down at me, almost as if to say, "I dare you to tell me this is for exit only." But I merely returned her icy glance with one of my own. Our eyes met for only an instant and she was already striding around my table and up toward the buffet line to meet her friends.

So we're an arrogant and cocky little bitch, aren't we? I thought to myself as she passed by me. Perfect! By the time this old cougar finishes with you, you're gonna be one feeble little kitten. Meow!

I caught a strong whiff of her perfume as she passed by my table and it made my mind momentarily spin with carnal and intoxicating lust. I didn't even know her, yet I knew that fragrance mixed perfectly with her body chemistry and hence fit her like a glove: "I'm gorgeous! You know it and I know it! I can have anyone or anything I want so I can be as big of a bitch as I want! And if you don't like it, fuck off! I do what I want, whenever I want and however I want."

This was going to be even more fun than I thought. Her stoic arrogance and cocksureness was going to play her right into my hand; not to mention the idea of pulling my prey out of the herd, taking her home and devouring her while her friends watched helplessly; oh so delicious! As I glanced casually over my shoulder and observed her and her friends starting down the buffet line with their trays, I couldn't help but to grin deviously.

"That's right, honey. Eat hearty because you're definitely going to need your strength." I whispered to myself. 

I watched her work her way down the buffet line, scowling with disapproval at her friends choices and rolling her eyes at the male staff members behind the counter who tried to talk to her; essentially brushing them off. I suddenly remembered something that my brother used to say when he saw an attractive but snobbish little bitch like my birthday gift. He said he'd love to buy her for what she's actually worth and sell her for what she thinks she's worth. But in this case, what she was actually worth and what she thought she was worth, at least in terms of physical beauty, were probably exactly the same. I then witnessed the short and chubby girl head for the dessert section of the buffet and load her plate with sweets as my birthday gift rolled her eyes and snapped at her.

Oh, that's it! I thought to myself. You just keep right on being the bitchy little tramp you are. You may think you're the hottest thing under the sun now and that your shit doesn't stink, but in a few hours I'm gonna have you eating out of my hand; and out of my soaking wet snatch. You're gonna be my own personal little pussy whore! And you're gonna love every lick of it and be begging for more.

The three of them filled their plates and glasses then migrated to a booth along the wall that was less than ten feet away from me and in a straight line of sight. My gift slid into the side of the booth that was facing toward me while her two friends stuffed themselves into the other side. 

Wow! Could this possibly get easier? For now all I had to do was to lock my gaze on her with calm but hungry eyes and let her ego do the rest. Clearly she loved to have all eyes on her at all times; to be the center of attention and the object of everyone's desire. But Lord bless her, she was just arrogant enough to think that she could pick and choose who could look at her and who couldn't. And I was willing to bet that the eyes of a strange and older woman were off limits. 

Sure enough, her eyes were soon darting constantly in my direction with a stern scowl on her face and she was squirming like she had ants in her pants as she obviously felt my gaze on her. Not long after, she was leaning over the table and bickering to her friends as she motioned toward me with her eyes and the slight tilt of her head. The other two girls briefly glanced in my direction; I merely smiled and they both seemed to almost cower. Then just as I'd figured, my little tramp was on her feet and making a bee-line for my table. I took a sip of my tea, flipped a page of my magazine and pretended to be engrossed in the article as I ordered myself to remain cool and let her fall directly into my trap.

"Hey!" She hissed in a belligerent tone. "You got some kind of problem, lady?"

I lifted my eyes slowly and met her icy stare; her eyes were a gorgeous shade of dark brown; almost black, and she had a sultry, sexy voice.

"I beg your pardon?" I replied casually; her delectable fragrance now flooding my nostrils like a tidal wave.

"I said do you have some kind of fucking problem?" She repeated.

"Well, like most people, I have my share of them. But if you're inquiring as to whether I have a problem with you, then I'd have to say no." I answered coolly.

"Then why are you staring at me?!" She demanded harshly.

"Because you're a very beautiful girl." I answered.

"What?"

"I said that you're a very beautiful and sexy young lady and that's why I was looking at you!" 

"So? What? You saying you wanna fuck me or something?" She hissed.

"I certainly wouldn't mind." 

"What are you? Some kind of pervert? 

I studied her very reflectively for a long moment and thought carefully about her choice of words there.

"Interesting." I finally said.

"What's interesting?" She snarled.

"The fact that you called me a pervert and not a homo or lesbo."

"Yeah, well that's a given. I mean, I can see you're a girl!"

"Ahh, honey; take a closer look at me! What, if anything about me, says that I'm a GIRL?" I hissed.

"Okay, a woman!" She hissed back. "They can be perverts too."

"Yes, but they very rarely call each other that." I said calmly. "No, that term is almost exclusively reserved for men who are looking at you with lusty eyes and making sexually explicit remarks; and most of the time, you secretly like it. But if a woman is doing all that to you, you wouldn't call her a pervert; no, you'd call her a dyke or a lesbo or homo, wouldn't you? But you called me a pervert. Very interesting." 

"Fuck you!"

"Your place or mine?"

"Shut up! And quit fucking staring at me!"

"Oh come now; you don't really want that, do you?" I asked coolly.

"What?" She growled.

"You love being stared at! Being worshipped! Desired; the center of all attention. You thrive on it; you crave it. You know you're built for it and you couldn't do without it. That's why you dress the way you do. But you're just enough of an arrogant little bitch to think that you can pick and choose who can, and who cannot look at you." I expounded.




For My 40th Birthday



"You don't even know me!" She snarled.

"Oh, I know you very well."

"Just stay away from me, freak-o!"

"Why? That's not what you want either."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"My name is Jennifer."

"I don't give a fuck what your name is."

"Yes you do."

My birthday gift stood motionless beside my table; staring down at me with her mouth agape and the fire of frustration blazing in her eyes. She was totally befuddled. She was losing a battle she wasn't truly aware she was fighting.

"Honey, if you really wanted me to stay away from you, you'd have stormed off a long time ago. Yet, you haven't moved. You just keep standing there and you keep fighting. But who exactly are you fighting with? Me or yourself?"

"You; bitch!" 

"I don't think so." I said. "No, your mind and your body are refighting the battle of the Alamo. Your heart's pounding like a jackhammer while your stomach's just a fluttering away; you're feeling all hot, gooey and flushed. And I'll bet your sweet little honey pot is dripping wet, aching and tingling thinking about what it would be like with me."

My birthday gift rolled her eyes, gasped without really taking a breath, threw up her hands in frustration and stormed back to her table. I had to struggle with all my strength to keep from laughing; this was so much fun. Even if things didn't work out with her, I was having an absolute ball fucking with her naive young mind. But I knew without a doubt that I had her. As she plopped back down in the booth and began chattering incessantly to her friends, I checked my watch.

"Three minutes." I whispered to myself and then resumed scanning the magazine article in front of me.

The next thing I knew, I heard the chair directly across from me slide roughly over the tile floor and I looked up to see my beautiful little birthday gift plopping herself down right across the table from me. I checked my watch; just barely two and a half minutes had passed. Damn, I'm good. For a brief moment, I cursed myself as a cruel cunt, for I was enjoying this far too much. After all she was just a baby and I had her mind so frazzled that she was on the verge of jumping out of her gorgeous skin. But I didn't care; I wanted this exotic young beauty so bad I was practically foaming at the mouth. 

"Something I can do for you?" I asked with a grin.

"I could call the cops on you, you know!" She snapped.

"And just what exactly would you tell them?" I asked as I took a sip of my iced tea.

"That you're a pervert and you're harassing me." She said; her voice trembling slightly.

"I'm harassing you, huh?" I scoffed. "And yet you're the one that keeps coming to me. And once again, you called me a pervert; not a lesbo or dyke."

"What do you want from me?" She roared.

"How about we start with your name." I said softly.

"I'm not telling you my name."

"I told you mine."

She sat fuming for a minute; studying me carefully. I almost felt sorry for her for the look of confusion and desperation on her face was just precious.

"It's Ashley."

"That's very pretty."

"Now what do you want?"

"The question's not what do I want; it's what do you want? You're the one that keeps coming over here."

"I want you to leave me alone."

"Ashley, all I did was look at you. You're the one that's not leaving me alone."

"You were staring at me!"

"And I told you why; you're a very beautiful young woman." 

"I'm not gay!"

"But I am. And as such, I like to look at a beautiful young woman."

"Just not me!"

"Why not you?"

"Because I like men."

"So you don't mind men looking at you; but you don't want women to look at you?"

"I don't mind women looking at me; just not you!"

"Why not me?"

"Because you're a lesbo."

"So what if I am?"

"That means you want to have sex with me."

"And is that any different than what men want when they look at you?"

Ashley was quiet for a moment; her little mind clearly spinning like a washing machine, searching for an answer.

"I guess not. It just makes me uncomfortable." She finally said.

"If it's no different than a man looking at you and fantasizing about having sex with you, why should it make you uncomfortable if it's a woman doing it? Because that's all it is; a fantasy."

"I don't know. It just does." 

"I think it makes you uncomfortable because it intrigues you. And because it intrigues you, it also excites you; even arouses you. And being aroused sexually by another woman frightens you; frightens you because you can't stop wondering what it would be like. And that you just might really enjoy it."

Ashley's mouth again fell open in shock as she threw up her hands in frustration; making all her cute little bracelets jingle like crazy as she slid her chair out and jumped to her feet. I merely lifted my gaze to follow her rising.

"You're crazy, lady! Stay the fuck away from me!" Ashley snarled as she spun on her heels and started away.

"So what are you and the girls gonna do tonight?" I asked; stopping her dead in her tracks and she spun around.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"That's none of your fucking business!"

"Let me see if I can guess then: the three of you will leave here and probably meet up with a group of friends over at the bowling alley or someplace like that; and I'm almost certain that there will be some boys in that group. After awhile, I'm sure you all will try to get your hands on some alcohol; probably some cigarettes too."

"Eewwh! I hate smoking." Ashley grimaced.

"Good girl." I replied. "But I'm sure several others in your little group; particularly some of the boys, don't hate it and do it. So once you get your hands on some booze, you'll go to somebody's house or some secluded spot to drink it. You'll get tipsy and end up having one of those young studs all full of beer with stale cigarette smoke on his breath gnawing on your mouth and pawing at your clothes while you try desperately to keep from vomiting and to keep his hands out of your pants or off your ass."

"And just why would I want to do that?" Ashley asked.

"Because you'll be thinking about me." I stated matter-of-factly. "You'll be wondering what would have happened if you'd gone with me tonight. You'll be thinking that if you'd accepted my invitation; Jennifer could then be pleasuring me in ways I never knew were possible. She could be teaching me things about my body and my sexuality that I never dreamed of. Jennifer could be showing me all the incredible things that one woman can do to, and for another in the throes of passion. You'll be thinking that instead of this young, dumb and full of cum lumox, I could be having a beautiful, experienced, mature woman savoring every fiber of my physical being, Ashley; and helping me discover the exquisite physical pleasures and the boundless sexual fulfillment that my body is capable of receiving."

Ashley stood motionless and stared at me with a glassy-eyed expression of wonder and confusion; she had a look of true innocence about her now as she held her hand over her heart. For a moment, I thought I'd completely sealed the deal. Tilting her head, she seemed then to be stepping toward me; but at the last second, she hesitated, shook her head and sauntered back to her friends at their table. I didn't move and soon found that I was holding my breath. Ashley sat in complete silence for several minutes, holding her head in her hands, periodically combing her fingers through her gorgeous long and dark hair as her friends tried to talk to her; but she wasn't there anymore. She was already with me in her mind; and I hoped, her heart.

Suddenly, Ashley sprang out of the booth, snapped up her purse and rushed toward me; my heart shifted into maximum overdrive. Yet she didn't stop at my table, but hurried out the exit door and down the sidewalk toward the SUV she'd arrived in. Her two friends fumbled and bumbled over each other and chased after her, doing their best to ignore me completely as they passed by my table and went out the door. Glancing out the window and down the sidewalk, I could see Ashley had stopped in front of the SUV and was pacing around like an expectant father of old as her friends caught up with her. I suddenly felt a deep pang of guilt in my heart and wondered if I'd taken this too far; freaked the poor girl out so bad that I truly did frighten her. Ashley's two friends stood around her as she continued to pace and the three of them seemed to be engrossed in conversation.

I went to the ladies room that was near the back of the restaurant and took care of nature's business. Once finished, I made a quick check of my face and ran a brush through my hair. I returned to my table, took a final sip of my iced tea and glanced out the window again; the girls and the SUV they came in were gone. Oh well. It was fun while it lasted. But, it was time to move on and try another approach somewhere else. Maybe I should just go on downtown to one of my clubs and see if I couldn't meet somebody there. I picked up my magazine and headed out the exit door listening to the distant cries of the CiCi's staff thanking me and telling me to please come again. I had no sooner stepped out onto the sidewalk when my soul nearly leapt out of my body as I turned toward my car. 

Ashley was sitting all by herself on the little concrete bench in front of the business next door. With her arms folded across her chest, her lips were smacking nervously on a piece of bubble gum and her legs, crossed sexily, were bouncing up and down like a jackhammer. She appeared highly agitated; either that or terribly nervous. I took a deep breath, ordered myself to remain calm and strolled casually over to her. She wouldn't even look at me at first; just kept staring straight ahead.

"So?" I said finally.

"So!" She snapped back and then blew a big bubble with her gum.

"Where'd your friends go?"

"I don't know. I just told them to get lost."

"Why'd you do that, Ashley?"

Ashley shifted her weight uncomfortably on the bench, uncrossed and quickly re-crossed her legs the other direction, blew another big bubble with her gum, let it pop and then sucked it back into her mouth.

"Because I decided I wanna go with you." She finally mumbled and looked slowly up at me.

Outwardly indifferent, but inwardly bursting with joy, I kept on my poker face as I reached out my hand and smiled warmly at her. Then for the first time since I'd laid eyes on her, she smiled; and it nearly stopped my heart for it was so beautiful. Ashley took my hand and I helped her to her feet. Standing together for the first time, I was at least three heads taller than her; and as I held her hand, I gently stroked her long and silky soft hair with the other.

"So beautiful." I whispered.

I let my hand slide gently down Ashley's gorgeous face and caressed her immaculately soft cheek.

"How old are you, Ashley?" I asked. 

"Eighteen." She whispered.

"Oh my." I gasped softly; incredibly aroused.

"What?" She snapped.

"Nothing." I told her. "Nothing at all. Come on; let's go."

The first ten or so minutes of the drive to my house passed without a single spoken word between us; the only sounds being the tires thumping along the pavement and Ashley popping and smacking her gum.

"Mind if I turn on the radio?" Ashley suddenly asked.

"No." I replied. "Be my guest."

Ashley flipped on my car stereo, scanned the stations until she found HER station; a heavy metal station with guitars blazing, drums bashing and singers shrieking. And of course, she proceeded to turn up the volume to near ear-splitting level. I had the instinctive gut feeling that she was trying desperately to remain little Miss Cool; the show no fear mentality! Keep that cocky, arrogant and bitchy attitude front and center while just below the surface, scared shitless.

At last I pulled into my driveway, parked in the garage, killed the engine and then led Ashley into the house through the backdoor and into the kitchen. Setting my purse down on the table, I went over to the refrigerator as Ashley strode calmly behind me, taking in my quaint little house.

"Would you like something to drink, Ashley?" I asked.

"Got a Diet Coke?" She asked.

"Sure." I replied; rather surprised. I thought surely she'd want a beer. "You sure you wouldn't like something a little stronger? I promise not to tell."

"Nah, I don't drink." Ashley said, still popping and smacking that gum.

"Really?" I said. "Doesn't drink and doesn't smoke. Very smart girl."

"I try."

I pulled a can of Diet Coke from the fridge along with a bottle of mineral water for myself and carried them both over to the table where Ashley had her arms folded over the back of one of the chairs.

"Here you go." I said as I handed her the can.

"Thanks." She replied and blew another big bubble with her gum.

"Ashley, do you think I could have some of your gum?" I asked.

"Sure." She chirped.

Ashley set the can of Diet Coke down on the kitchen table and began rummaging through her purse until she pulled out a pack of bubble gum and held it out to me.

"It's a multi-flavored pack so you'll just have to take your chances on what flavor you get." She told me.

"What flavor are you chewing?" I asked.

"Raspberry."

"Ooooh, I love raspberry."

With that, I slid my hands around Ashley's sleek and sexy neck and took her mouth possessively in mine. Instantly, her entire body stiffened as my tongue burrowed its way between her plump, luscious lips and into the sweetest; not to mention hottest little mouth I'd ever tasted. Ashley struggled slightly against me at first as grunts and groans of surprise muffled down my throat. But as my tongue splurged deeper into the heat and promise of her delectable young mouth, the grunting and groaning quickly became soft and sensual moans of pleasure and contentment. Her purse slipped off her arm and crashed to the floor as I then felt Ashley's toned but trembling arms slide around my waist. The tip of my tongue located the piece of gum between her teeth and I swirled it around and sucked it into my mouth before slowly pulling free of our first kiss.

Ashley's head fell back in sheer ecstasy and her eyes were closed as I held that tight and buxom young body of hers snuggly up against me.

"Wow." She finally said; I'd clearly taken her breath away. "Do all women kiss that good?"

Ashley leveled her head forward again and opened her beautiful eyes just in time to see me blowing a bubble with her gum.

"Oh my God." She said with a giggle. "Guess you really do love raspberry."

I kissed her softly on the lips again; just letting mine brush over hers, sampling the wetness and the sweet flavor of her cranberry lip gloss.

"You wanna know what I love even more?" I whispered.

"I'm not sure, but I think you're about to show me." She said with a bashful smile.

I smiled warmly and took Ashley by the hand, leading her out of the kitchen, through the living room, down the hall and into my bedroom. I led her over and we sat on the edge of the bed. I gently ran my fingers through her beautiful hair and then down over her face, caressing her soft cheeks and luscious lips. I took her mouth softly again, brushing mine over her sweet lips and gently suckling on them. Ashley sat almost rigidly beside me; her hands folded in her lap. She was still very tense; particularly now that we'd moved to the bedroom. I kissed and suckled on her chin and slowly up her jaw line then pulled back and took her mouth again. Finally I pulled away and just looked at her gorgeous little face as I caressed her cheek.

"You have the sweetest mouth I've ever tasted, Ashley." I whispered.

"Thank you." She whispered so softly I could barely hear her.

I immediately sensed that the cocky and arrogant little bitch was no longer there. No, the young girl sitting beside me on my bed now was a sweet, trembling and fragile little thing that was quickly coming to realize that she may just be in over her head.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" I asked softly.

"Yeah." She mumbled.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "Because if you're having second thoughts, all you have to do is say stop. I don't want you doing anything that you're not comfortable with. If you want, I can take you home right now."

"No! No, I'm okay. Really, I am." She said. "I like being here with you, Jennifer. You make me feel really good; special even. And I really like kissing you. It's way better than I thought it would be."

I stroked her hair; combing and curling some of her long and silky locks behind her ear as I smiled warmly at her.

"I really like kissing you too, honey. Your lips are so soft, and your mouth is like silk: so young, sweet and sensuous; and really, really hot." I told her and she smiled weakly.

I kissed her gently on the mouth again and I felt her body relax; she even lifted her hand to softly stroke my long, blond hair.

"I love your hair." Ashley said as our lips smacked gently against each other. "It's so beautiful; soft and silky."

"Thank you." I whispered. "Now, I want you to lie down, sweetheart."

I eased Ashley down onto her back on my soft mattress, snuggled her body in my arms and gazed deeply into her dark eyes. The look on her face was absolutely precious as she cuddled her arms almost protectively over her chest.

"Ashley, are you absolutely sure about this?" I asked.

"Yeah." She mumbled.

"Look, I know that you're scared; and it's okay to be scared. But you have got to try and relax. Nobody is going to hurt you. You're about to discover that making love with another woman is probably one of the most intimate and beautiful experiences in the entire world." I said as I caressed her face and stroked her hair.

Ashley didn't speak, but the look in her eyes and the little smile that came across her lips told me that she understood; and more importantly; that she trusted me. It hadn't occurred to me until just then, but Ashley had really stepped out on faith and taken a tremendous risk by coming with me tonight. For all she knew I could have been some escaped lunatic or cult member that was going to take her deep into the woods and offer her up as a sacrifice in a satanic ritual or something. Or I could have doped her silly and sold her into slavery or human contraband. Or have taken her back to a crack house and let a pack of drug lords and dealers beat her up and rape her in exchange for drugs.

"Now, I want you to just lie still while I set the mood a little better, okay?"

"Okay." She whispered and I kissed her softly on the tip of the nose.

"You are so beautiful; you do know that, don't you?"

"I don't know." She replied softly. "But I like hearing you tell me that I am."

Strange as it may sound, I actually believed her when she said that she didn't know if she was beautiful. It was quickly becoming clear that the arrogance, cockiness and the bitchy attitude I observed earlier was nothing more than a suit of armor so to speak. I was now detecting a great deal of insecurity around her; a meekness, softness and gentleness that I hadn't seen before. This girl was turning out to be much deeper than I originally thought; lots of layers and deeply hidden, precious qualities. And while this was all definitely altering my planned theme for the evening, it certainly wasn't making it any less desirable; if anything, it was actually making it that much more.

I slid off the bed and quickly lit all the candles and incense that I had set out earlier in the day. Ashley remained flat on her back on my bed; her arms again snuggled protectively around herself as her head followed me around the room. As the candles slowly illuminated the room in a soft, romantic glow, Ashley lifted herself up slightly and glanced around; it was the first time she noticed all the rose petals scattered about.




For My 40th Birthday



"Wow." She whispered. "You did all this for me?"

"No." I told her. "I did all this for me. You see, today is my fortieth birthday. And I wanted to treat myself to something very, very special; give myself a very special birthday gift you could say. And the gift I chose to give myself is you."

"Me?" She asked so innocently it nearly brought tears to my eyes. "Why me?"

"Because you're young; and you are SO gorgeous. And from the moment I first saw you, I wanted to make love to you more than I've ever wanted to make love to anybody in my life." I told her.

Ashley's face filled with an adorably bashful smile and she rolled her head away from me; her tight little body beginning to tremble again. I set down the box of matches on my chest of drawers, slipped off my flip flops, unbuttoned and unzipped my shorts, let them drop to the floor and stepped out of them. I snatched the bottom hem of my tank top, yanked it up over my head and off in one motion and let it fall to the floor. I sauntered my now naked body seductively over to the bed and gazed down at Ashley who turned her head back slowly and looked up at my nudity with glassy-eyed wonder.

"Wow." She whispered. "And you think I'm beautiful."

"Oh you are, little one. You are." I replied. "More than you can imagine. Scoot up a little further on the bed for me, sweetie."

Ashley squirmed her gorgeous young body up to near the center of the mattress and I crawled up over her, straddling her hips; she was still cuddling her arms protectively over her chest. I leaned down over her and took her mouth again in a soft but lingering kiss; her lips are just so unbelievably succulent and sugary. I touched her face as I kissed her and then rose up above her again, taking her hands off her chest and placing them on my bare breasts.

"Touch me, baby." I whispered.

I guided Ashley's hands into tenderly molding and massaging my breasts at first, but it didn't take long for her to start enjoying herself; a soft smile filled her lips and I let go of her hands and she took over fully. Ashley continued molding and massaging my breasts in her delicate little hands for several minutes then she let her hands go exploring; down my torso, all over my stomach, down to my hips and finally around to the spheres of my ass.

I closed my eyes, moaned tenderly and swayed ever so slightly as she caressed me to encourage her. But in truth, Ashley's touch was magnificent and was driving me to this type of sensual little dance.

"You have such a great body, Jennifer." She told me. "Your skin is so soft."

"Thank you, baby. And you have a wonderful touch." I whispered as her hands slid back around and down the tops of my bare thighs. "You think maybe we could slip you into something a little more comfortable now? Take some of your clothes off."

"Okay." She mumbled in a trembling voice.

I untied the knot of her outer top just below her breasts, had Ashley sit up and slipped it off of her. Ashley held herself up on her arms and I slid my hands slowly up the soft flesh of her arms, over her shoulders and down to her gorgeous breasts that were still covered by her black sports bra. Caressing them softly and reveling in their youthful pertness, I looked into her eyes and smiled at her.

"Can I take this off too, sweetie?" I asked in a whisper.

Without answering, Ashley hesitantly lifted her arms over her head and I removed her sports bra, exposing two of the most perfect, buxom and beautiful young breasts I'd ever seen, topped with two dark and precious little areolas and nipples to match. 

"Ohh, Ashley; your breasts are so beautiful." I whispered. "Lay down for me, baby."

Ashley stretched out flat on her back again and instinctively covered herself with her arms; all those bracelets on her wrists jingling.

"No!" I told her and pulled her arms away, laying them beside her on the mattress. "Don't be afraid, love. I would never hurt you."

Combing back all my long locks of blond, I shifted my body and lowered my lips down to her left nipple and took it gently into my mouth. Ashley sucked in a slight gasp and chirped as her body stiffened and her back arched slightly. I suckled Ashley's nipple deep in my mouth; nipping and sucking the tiny nub and then dragging the tip of my tongue slowly around; teasing her course little areola, and then savoring the whole breast with luxurious licks and soft kisses. I made love to Ashley's breasts with my mouth for several wondrous moments then slowly descended down to her flat, firm tummy; pelting her flesh with soft, sensual kisses and licks. Ashley was trembling and her hands were groping desperately at the sheets of my bed as my mouth made love to her skin.

"Oh Ashley, your skin is so soft." I whispered as I relished her. "And so delicious; you taste like cotton candy." 

I kissed my way down to her belly button and ran my tongue all around her stud and down into the sweet little crevice; lathering it with deep, probing licks. My naked breasts brushed over the denim of her shorts as my body slid down, now straddling her gorgeous legs that were tightly stuck together.

"Can I take your shorts off, Ashley?" I whispered.

Ashley merely nodded her head and I slowly unfastened her belt, unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts.

"Lift up your hips, baby." 

She complied and I pulled her shorts down her breathtaking legs and off. Tossing them on the floor, I let my hands glide slowly up her gorgeous young legs, relishing the silky softness and muscle definition of them. My hands grazed sensually up over her hips to her slim little waist and finally under the dental floss waistband of her tiny white panties. I took in her beautiful young body from top to bottom. 

"My God, you are so beautiful Ashley. I don't think I've ever seen a more perfect young body than yours." I whispered. "You're a work of art, baby." 

Ashley again cuddled herself up protectively in her own arms as she looked innocently at me while I savored her gorgeous body and now fiddled with the waistband of her tiny panties.

"Can I take these off too?" I asked. "I want to see all of you, sweetie."

Again, Ashley only nodded her head and I hooked my fingers around the flossy line waist as Ashley just barely elevated her hips, allowing me to slip her panties around her taut and superlative ass, down her legs and finally off. Letting them slip off my fingers and fall to the floor, I turned back to behold Ashley's completely naked and absolutely breathtaking young body. As I looked down at her laying on my mattress, she hardly even remotely resembled the arrogant and cocky little bitch of earlier; now she just looked angelically precious and so very innocent. Her eyes were filled with great apprehension, but at the same time, overflowed with boundless wonder; and complete trust.

I kissed my way up her beautiful legs; savoring the soft and silky flesh as I spread them slowly. Ashley was very hesitant initially and it took some soft coaxing to get her legs apart as I slid my body down on my stomach between them. Ashley slid her hand down over her mound and covered herself.

"No!" I said gently. "Let me see you, sweetheart. I'm not going to hurt you."

Ashley pulled her hand away hesitantly and I at last had a clear view of her darling little vulva. With just a miniscule tuft of black fur above, her folds were utterly precious; so small, tender and brimming with vibrant youth. I wrapped my arm around her left hip and let my hand come to rest on her belly, grazing the tiny patch of fur as my other hand softly stroked her center.

"Oh Ashley..." I whispered. "I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful little pussy."

I teased the precious little fleshy petals of her inner labia with the tip of my finger and Ashley's body bucked and squirmed slightly as a strained little moan trickled out of her mouth. Then as I marveled at her ripe and fragrant little honey pot further, I was suddenly struck with a stunning revelation.

"Ashley? Honey, are you a virgin?"

Again all Ashley could do was nod her head as she once again wrapped herself up in her arms. I was suddenly overwhelmed; for an instant I felt terribly guilty for I was corrupting an innocent and beautiful young flower. But then, Ashley had come with me completely of her own free will and had allowed me to see her as apparently nobody else ever had. Now I began to feel deeply touched, truly humbled and quite honored; for I really hadn't chosen her as much as she had chosen me. Ashley really was giving me a wonderful gift.

"You've never been with anyone?" I asked softly.

"No." She said in a frightened whisper.

"Then have you ever gotten to know yourself? Explored yourself?"

"What do you mean?"

"Pleasured yourself? Got yourself off; gave yourself an orgasm."

"I guess; maybe a little bit." Ashley cooed. "I mean, I hear a lot of my friends talk about doing it all the time; they also talk a lot about having sex all the time too. I don't know. Guess I must not be real good at it because I've never been able to have one. I mean, it just feels so weird; even wrong sometimes." 

"Honey, there's nothing wrong with exploring yourself. A woman needs to know herself; she needs to pleasure herself so she knows what she likes and can then tell her lover. It's all perfectly natural."

"I guess so." She whimpered. "I just don't really know what to do." 

"Then why don't you let me show you?"

I sprang off the bed, hurried into my bathroom and retrieved a small flat mirror. Returning to my bed, I flipped on the lamps on both the bedside tables and sat up with my back against the headboard of my bed with my legs spread open wide.

"Come here, love." I told Ashley and patted the mattress directly between my legs. "Now I want you to sit right here between my legs, okay?" 

Ashley crawled over to me and did as I instructed; seating herself directly between my legs with her legs stretched out in front of her.

"Now just lean back against my body; I want you nice and comfortable." I instructed. "Now I want you to pull your legs up and bend them at the knees and plant your feet on the outside of my legs; spreading yours open wide." I explained.

Ashley did as I instructed and I soon had her beautiful body leaned up against me; the velvety softness of her skin against mine making my mind spin. With her legs spread wide open, I set a pillow down between them and propped the flat mirror up against it so that Ashley could have a clear view of her vagina.

"Are you comfortable, sweetheart?"

"Yeah." She said in a trembling voice. 

"Good."

I slid my left arm around Ashley's torso and I could immediately sense the tremendous tension and apprehension in her body.

"Relax, baby." 

"I'm trying." She whimpered.

"Do you trust me?" 

"Yes."

"Do you want to stop?"

"No."

"Then you've got to relax; just let yourself go." 

I kissed her softly on the temple while I took her right hand in mine and guided it down to her immaculate sexual center. 

"Now, I want you to just look at yourself, sweetie."

Ashley stared into the mirror and seemed to be completely mesmerized as she studied herself; if only I could have seen the look on her face.

"See how beautiful you are." I whispered in her ear and kissed it softly. "The most beautiful and sacred part of your body, honey; and its whole purpose is to give you pleasure."

I pressed Ashley's hand gently against her young womanhood and slowly began to rub and massage the whole area with her hand. Ashley gasped slightly and another tender little moan trickled out of her mouth as I felt her body tense slightly under my arm.

"Feel how it's getting wet and warm now; swelling up too?" I asked. "That means you're getting aroused; your vagina is getting itself ready to have intercourse. It's very important that she gets properly aroused otherwise intercourse can be very painful."

I guided Ashley's hand and fingers all around her sex; pointing out all the vital parts and having her touch them; massage and even tease them. I even coaxed her finger inside her and it nearly sent her up the wall. By now Ashley had become intensely aroused; her chest was heaving and her little honey pot was literally on fire; a molten lava center, drooling with her sweet nectar as all her gorgeous little folds were tremendously engorged and her inner tissues were vivid pink and glistening. Now it was time to explore her clit.

I tightened my grip around her belly, pressed her fingers down upon the gorging nub of her darling little clit and began stimulating it very slowly. As we steadily increased the pressure and speed of the stimulation, Ashley began to squirm as her breathing accelerated, her moans grew louder and her head fell back on my shoulder. Soon her hand slipped out from under mine and I was stimulating her all on my own; which was just fine. Ashley dug her hands into the sheets and seized fistfuls of them as I rubbed her clit even faster.

"Just hold on, baby girl. It's gonna feel so good." I hissed in her ear as I pleasured her.

Ashley was squirming wildly, but I managed to hold her against me as the orgasm built up inside her. Suddenly, Ashley wrapped her right arm around my head, dug her fingers into my hair as her body bucked and her moaning turned to high pitched squealing.

"Oh my God!" She suddenly roared.

My fingers on her clit were moving like pistons now; Ashley's legs were trembling almost uncontrollably as her head shook from side to side on my shoulder and she tugged roughly at my hair.

"That's it! Cum for me baby! Yeah, cum for me! That's a girl! Oh yeah!" I cheered her on.

Ashley howled like a feral beast as the orgasm ravaged her to the core and she nearly launched herself into a standing position, but I managed to hold on to her as her now squishy, spasming pussy doused my hand with her steaming hot nectar. I slid my hand away and now wrapped both my arms around her; holding her snuggly against me, pelting her neck and shoulders with soft suckling kisses as the orgasm washed over her. Ashley's body soon crumpled in my arms and her full weight came to rest against me as her hand slid out of my hair and her arm tumbled to her side.

"Oh God! Oh my God!" She gasped in laborious breaths.

I snuggled her for a few moments as the intensity passed and continued pelting her with soft, sensual kisses. Finally I took her by the chin and turned her head toward me. But before I could take her mouth, Ashley shifted suddenly, cupped her hand around my neck and kissed me wantonly. Her tongue surged into the deep recesses of my mouth as her hand slid up behind my head and pulled me deeper into the kiss. She was so passionate; carnal, even primal as she devoured my mouth. I finally had to push her away.

"Easy, love. Take it slow. We've got all night, you know." I told her.

"God, you're so incredible." Ashley hissed as she gazed deep into my eyes.

"Baby, you ain't seen nothing yet. Now I want you to lie down on your tummy for me." I told her.

I kissed her softly on the lips and then released her and she immediately complied with my request; stretching that gorgeous and buxom young body out beside me on the mattress, folding her arms up and resting her head on them. 

I switched off both bedside lamps, returning the room to the soft glow of candlelight, and then straddled Ashley's body to begin a very slow, sensual and intensely erotic massage. I explored every inch of the back side of her beautiful young body with my hands. Savoring every second and fueled by Ashley's tender moaning, I meticulously rubbed, massaged and fondled every nook, cranny, curve and muscle of her naked body from the base of her neck to the arches of her feet with the utmost tenderness and affection. Once I reached the bottom, I took her foot in my hand and suckled each of her toes. I then began a slow and seductive rise back up her body, only this time using my lips, tongue and mouth instead of my hands to explore her. I suckled, nibbled, kissed and licked virtually every inch of that delicious young flesh as I worked my way up the sexy curve of her back, ultimately molding my body down on to hers. 

The feel of her silky soft skin and her tight, buxom young body beneath mine set me ablaze with unbridled lust. Ashley rose up on her elbows and turned her head over her shoulder to watch me love on her; I then slid my arms under her's and cupped the young, bountiful breasts in my hands while I erotically grated my body down on hers. I slid up further and captured her mouth in another passionate kiss as our sweaty bodies rubbed together. I pulled my mouth out of our kiss, sliding my tongue back along her jaw line and suckled her ear lobe into my mouth.

"Oh Jennifer..." Ashley moaned sensually. 

"You like that, baby?" I hissed with a mouthful of her ear.

"Oh yeah." She moaned. "God, I'm so glad the girls decided to take me to CiCi's tonight."

"So am I." I murmured seductively.

Our mouths came together again for another wanton kiss and I slowly slid off Ashley and rolled her over on to her back. I cuddled up beside her and softly caressed her face as we stared into each other's eyes.

"So I guess it's safe to say that you're having a good time, sweetie?" I asked.

"I'm having a wonderful time."

"Me too."

"So now what?"

Without saying another word, I lowered my head to Ashley's beautiful chest and took her left nipple into my mouth. Ashley sucked in a deep gasp and her body arched up to meet my mouth and I actually shivered as I slowly savored the warm and sacred skin. Sipping the areola of her left breast, my tongue twined about the plump, swollen nub before lowering my jaw to inhale as much of the buxom young flesh as I could possibly devour. Burying her nipples deep within my sultry mouth in turns, Ashley's eyes fluttered in sheer ecstasy and her soft, tender moans chimed to me her overwhelming ascent.

I shifted my body directly atop Ashley's and slid slowly down her as I nipped and suckled the flesh of her abdomen; teasingly tracing my way down to her seething pussy with luxurious licks. Guiding her legs up to bend at the knees and planting her feet firmly on the mattress; which there was absolutely no resistance this time, I devoured the creamy flesh of her silky inner thighs. Glancing up into her sweet little face, Ashley was adorably sucking on the tip of her finger and looking down at me with wonder.

"You know what I'm going to do, right?" I asked.

Ashley excitedly nodded her head. Combing back the damp locks of blond hair from my face, I fastened my entire mouth to her sweet little box and her body jerked violently, every muscle seized and Ashley sucked in a deep gasp as I began to feast ravenously upon my birthday gift's ripe and blossoming young womanhood. I buried my lips and tongue deep inside her, my fingernails digging deep into the flesh of Ashley's hips as I savored her intoxicating flavor. As I sensed the orgasmic pressure building up inside her with the intensity of a pressure cooker, Ashley's body bucked and spasmed as her lungs strained desperately against the pressure of it for air. With the illicit pleasure literally consuming every part of her, Ashley's eyes spun erratically in her head while her head itself rolled wildly from side to side as her hands clutched and tugged urgently at the sheets of my bed. Ashley's tender moans again turned to orgasmic howls of erotic release that were reverberating frantically off the walls and ceiling of my bedroom. 

When the climactic orgasm violently tore through her body with the ferocity of a mighty avalanche, I held tight to Ashley's hips, keeping my mouth firmly fastened to her center. As I felt the orgasm erupt deep inside her, Ashley's body bucked one final time and then collapsed in a spent and exhausted pile of gorgeous young flesh as I drank deep of her spewing sexual nectar. With her hand resting on her heaving chest, Ashley gasped deep and desperately for air as moans of both intense pleasure and intense relief poured out of her mouth. I slid up on the mattress beside her and cradled her twitching body tenderly in my arms. Holding her possessively against me, I gently stroked her sweaty hair and pelted soft, sweet kisses all about her head and face. 




For My Audience



We heard about the party from Stevie, who said everybody was going to be there. So I called Katie and asked if she wanted to go and she, of course, said yes. She loves parties. Don't tell her I said this, but she loves parties because she likes to get attention. She always goes home with random guys. It's kind of sad, really. Whatever. Anyways, and Katie asked if her friend Tom could come. I was all like, sure. Whatever. I don't care. I met Tom once at this party and he seemed cool. Quiet, though. So anyway, we decide to take my car because Katie never drives to parties. As I said, she always goes home with random guys. So we drive to the party and we pull up to the house, but we obviously can't park right in front. There's a billion cars parked on the street. We drive up and around and finally we find this spot that's a million miles away. We get out and start walking.

When we get to the house, Snoop is playing real loud. Park it like it's hot, park it like it's hot. All the windows are open and so's the front door. We see a bunch of people just chilling and boozing it. I see a couple people I know, and I walk over to them. Katie drifts towards some dudes and asks where the beer is. I don't really see where Tom has gotten to. 

Jordan is all like, "So, Mike, what's happening?"

And I'm all like, "Nothing much, man. What's going on with you?"

"Did you fucking see Holly? Fuck she's smoking."

"No, I missed her."

"She's wearing this tiny tiny fucking skirt. She was in the kitchen and she was reaching up and swear I could see her fucking cheeks. Man, it was awesome."

I chuckle. "Yeah, I bet. Is she still here?"

"Why? You thinking of macking her?"

"Fuck, yeah."

"Oh yeah? Good luck, man."

So I walk away and try find the beer. The first place I look is the kitchen, obviously. I pass through some groups of people and I end up in the dining room, where there's this chick pounding back this beer and everybody is cheering her on. I wait for a second, just in case she's the kind of chick who shows her tits when she gets drunk. She stops chugging and beer spills from her mouth. All these guys are standing around her, one of them passing her another beer. She starts chugging that. I saw to some guy, "What's going on?"

He's all like, "This bitch has never been drunk before, she said."

"Oh cool."

"So we're getting her fucking juiced."

"Awesome."

She finishes that beer and she gasps. Looking up with a big grin, she wobbles slightly. She's fucking pissed now. 

Somebody shouts, "Show us your tits!"

And she grabs the bottom of her t-shirt and pulls it up, showing her pink bra. She shakes her hips and somebody gives a "woo!" and then her shirt comes back down. All in all, disappointing. Whatever. 

I get into the kitchen and there's Holly, looking perfect. She sees me and smiles, but then goes back to her conversation with this douchebag called Curtis. I know him from hockey. He's a fucking creep. Super smart, though. I guess he's saying something interesting enough to keep Holly there, of all people. The hottest fucking chick in our school and Curtis is talking to her. Is there any justice?

I step in and say, "What's going on?" I open the fridge door and find no beer.

Holly is all like, "Curtis is telling me about the universe. Mind-blowing shit."

"So is this," Curtis says, passing me a joint. I take a hit on it and pass it to Holly. Fuck she's hot. Her skirt is so goddamn short. I watch how the hem of it just dances on her tight thighs and I watch how her tits shift under her teeny tight t-shirt. 

Holly gives me an open beer from the counter and I slam it all back.

Curtis is saying something and I can't even fucking hear it. Man, this shit is mind blowing. I take another hit and then another and it's fucking incredible.

I interrupt Curtis. "Where did you get this shit, man?"

"From my dealer."

"Yeah? Can I have his number? I have to get some of this."

"Here." He pulls a bag out of his pocket and gives it to me. "There's half of what I brought. Forty bucks."

"I'll pay you tomorrow?"

"Sure, whatever."

I say to Holly, "I'm going to smoke this. You wanna come?"

Holly looks to Curtis and then back to me. "Sure," she says. We pass through the dining room where that chick is still drinking and then into the living room again. I see Katie, and I'm all like, "Hey," and she's all like, "Hey." Then me and Holly are going up the stairs and into this bedroom that's empty. It has this fucking dinosaur wallpaper, and a racecar bed and I suppose it's a kid's room. I sit on the bed and Holly sits right beside me. Putting the beer I brought down on the carpet, I glance down at her legs and her skirt is riding really high, but not high enough to see anything. I open the bag and take out some. I pull the pipe out of my pocket and fill it. Then I light it and take the first toke and then I pass it to Holly. 

"This stuff is incredible," I tell her.

She nods and lets out the smoke slowly. She turns to me and I move in and kiss her. I open her mouth and slide my tongue into her mouth and she tastes so sweet. My hands come up and I'm touching her tit over her tit. She breaks the kiss and lifts her shirt and her tits are absolutely perfect. My cock is so hard, pressing against my jeans. She has this tiny little strawberry nipples that are so hard. I lean down and grab one between my lips, sticking my tongue out at them. My hand goes between her legs and she spreads them. I feel her panties and I'm rubbing her pussy. My middle finger curling a little bit more, I feel her pussy starting to get wet. I pull my hand out and grab her skirt by the waist. She smiles at me and I pull off the skirt, showing her tiny fucking g-string. I get on my knees on the floor and I rub at her puss a little bit more and then pull the g-string aside. She has the most beautiful pussy, with the lips just jutting out a little, and she's completely shaved. So hot. She moans just a little. I stick my tongue in and out of her pussy and slide it from top to bottom. I find her little clitty and I'm rubbing it with my thumb. She starts moaning really loud and I'm taking off my jeans and my boxers. She sits up on the bed and leans forward, putting her hand on my cock. She starts stroking me, just light strokes, the lightest of touches, just to get me a little harder. I stick my middle finger in her and start fucking her. She takes my wrist and pulls my hand away and pulling me back onto the bed, she lowers her mouth onto my cock, taking the whole thing in. It feels so good so good.

The door opens suddenly and Katie is standing there. 

"Hey, fuck off," I say to her.

I put my hand on Holly's head, to keep her sucking me off. Her tongue slides on either side of my shaft and it feels so incredible. She is a great cock sucker.

Katie stands there still and I'm all like, "What?"

She moves in and kisses me, jabbing her tongue into my mouth. While we're kissing, she unbuttons her jeans and grabs my wrist, guiding my hand into her pants. I shove them in and rub my finger tip over her lips. She's already wet. 

Holly takes my cock out and stands up. She climbs over me, one leg on either side of me and she holds my cock while she comes down. I feel it slide right into her tight pussy and she starts bouncing. I look back to Katie and my finger's in her pussy, fucking it.

She pulls my hand out of her jeans quickly and I feel my cock get a little colder. I look to Holly and she's getting off the bed. She steps over to Katie and gets on her knees. Holly takes a hold of Katie's jeans and tugs them down, panties and all. Katie's pussy has just a little landing strip. She steps out of the jeans and spreads her legs. While she's standing, Katie spreads her lips and Holly leans up and starts licking.

My head feels woozy.

What the fuck?

I'm watching this, Holly licking Katie's pussy and my cock is throbbing. I start stroking my cock, and then I'm – 

What the fuck? My head hurts so much, but I'm so hard. My cock is so hard it hurts. Where am I? I'm in this bedroom, not the kid's bedroom. This looks like the parents' room. My cock. Oh I have to touch it. Fuck, I'm naked. I'm completely naked. I grab my shaft and I pull up, and it feels so good. I sit up a little and I try to look for clothes. I'm seeing nothing around the bed. My hand tugs at my cock while I'm doing this. It's just so hard. It's throbbing. I feel my cock bounce with my pulse. What the hell? My cock's been shaved. My balls are so smooth. With my other hand I cup my sack and feel the smoothness. I look at my cock and I squeeze it, watching my precum ooze out all over my hand. I let go and bring my hand to my mouth. My tongue darts out and I lick the precum off. It tastes so hot. Who shaved my cock? Oh I have to jerk it. I need to jerk it.

And that's when I heard the giggle. I looked up and saw about a dozen people watching me, staring at me and smiling. There's some dudes drinking some beers and there's some chicks. I see Holly and I'm all like, "What the fuck?"

But I can't stop jerking my dick. I'm just so horny. I can't stop it.

Holly says, "You've taken some Viagra. You're going to give us a show. Keep going."

I don't even care anymore. I lean back and keep stroking my cock. I stare into the eyes of some of the people. People I know. People I'm going to have to see tomorrow at school. People that will talk. People that are watching me fucking masturbate. I'm jerking off in front of a dozen people. My most private motion, rubbing my cock, and everybody's watching. And it feels so hot and so good. I look at everybody, wondering how much this is arousing them. I've never felt so hard or so aroused myself. It's the greatest thing I've ever done.

I furiously jerk it and then slow down. Everybody is watching my cock. Nobody's laughing and nobody's giggling. They're all watching me. I'm the star. 

I take ahold of the base of my cock and bring my hand so slowly up to the top and I slide my hand back down achingly slow. I go back up just a little bit at a time, just a little bit. It's so sticky and wet with precum. I've never leaked so much precum in my life. 

I see a dude I know from hockey watching me with no expression on his face. He's watching my hand slide all over my slippery cock. I look into his eyes and I'm in another world.

I see Holly standing there in her t-shirt and her skirt and her beautiful legs. I wonder how aroused she is. I wonder if her pussy is wet. Does she want to touch herself too?

I sit up and get on my knees, spreading my legs. I grab my cock and pump it while I'm in the doggystyle, my legs open and inviting. 

Even though this is the most public thing I've ever done, it feels like the most intimate thing I've ever done. My dick is in everybody's vision. I am the only one in this room. When everybody blinks, it's me that masturbates in their mind's eye.

It's so beautiful. Naked and exposed and wet and stroking and open. 

I know that when I cum all over, I'm going to lick my juice and use it to go again. I won't want to stop. I just want to do this for absolutely everybody.

I'm so hard. I let go of the dick hanging between my legs, and it bounces with my pulse. It throbs. I can't stop even for a second, so I keep stroking my cock. 

I lean back on the bed again and I just hold myself.

Someone asks, "Are you going to cum?"

I say, "You want me to cum?"

Everybody nods. A dozen people want to see me ejaculate all over myself. 

So I jerk it hard. I pump my cock faster and faster. I'm groaning with each pump. I can feel it rising in me. I want to do this. I want to do this for everybody watching me. I want to cum for people.

My smooth sack tightens. I moan loudly.

"Oh!" someone exclaims.

I feel it explode. A rope of sticky hot white cum flies from my fist and smacks me in the face. Another long tendril of hotness slaps my chest. I clench for a second and then let another white spiral fly onto my body. I open my eyes and watch myself milk out cum over my stomach and hand.

When no more comes out, I look up at everybody and I start licking my hand. My cum tastes so good and so hot. I feel it on my face and everybody looking at me.

My cock remains as hard as before. I start stroking it again, making the cum all frothy and slippery. 

I say, "I'm really thirsty."

Holly says, "Well, come on down to the kitchen."

"Okay," I say quietly.

I stand up and off the bed. My cock points towards the people and then towards the door as they part for me. I walk out the door and everybody follows me because I am the star. I am the beautiful one they all want to watch.

Down the stairs, I hear the party still going. My cock twitches as I imagine more people to watch me and look at my body and look at my intimate motions.

People turn and watch. Some laugh. Some look away.

"Oh my god."

"Look at all the juice."

"There's cum on his face."

"He's so hard."

I get into the kitchen and there's the fridge. I open it and turn back to my little crowd of followers. I bend down and into the fridge to find some beer.

I spread my legs and allow everybody to see my butthole. My most intimate and secret place, open and inviting and exposed.

"You want something, man?" someone asks.

I stay bent over. 

"You want something in your ass?"

I stand back up wordlessly and step over to the kitchen table. Then I bend over and open my ass. I grip both my cheeks and spread them as wide as I can. 

I croak, "I need something. Anything."

Someone says, "Here. I found this upstairs."

I turn and it's Holly holding a bullet-shaped vibrator. 

Somebody whoops as she turns it on. Then she steps between my legs and gathers some of the hot cum from my stomach. She takes a finger full and swirls around my pucker. It feels so hot. Then she slides it and then teasingly back out. I feel the buzzing of the dildo against my bud and then she presses it in, my asshole accepting it and opening. 

I feel really full. I feel almost complete. I feel a connection. Everybody is watching my butthole and my cock. 

My little crowd has grown bigger. Everybody in the party is watching me. I can't – I don't even know how.

The feeling is incredible. I've never ever experienced anything like this. I've never really played with my butt before; a little finger once when I was really horny, but nothing major. Nothing like fucking it with a vibrator. Nothing like being exposed to two dozen people while a girl fucks me. It's incredible.

My only perception is of my fucked asshole. The only thing I can feel on my body is my ring being spread by the vibrator and it consequently contracting when Holly takes it out. 

She rolls the vibrator in more cum from my stomach and then places it against my opening.

"You want me to keep fucking you?"

I moan out some syllables that aren't quite words.

"You're going to have to say something, slut."

I can't. "Ughsss."

Somebody says, "Jesus. What a whore."

"Come on, bitch, say something."

"Unn – yes."

Holly says, "What? Speak up so everybody can hear you."

"Yeah, cunt!"

I say, "Yes. Fuck me."

"Where?"

"In my ass."

"With?"

"That vibrator."

"Fucking slut," mumbles somebody.

I groan as Holly pushes it back it. And further. I feel her finger go in with the vibrator. She grabs my hair and pulls me up, making me stand straight. Turning me around so my cock points at everybody, she says, "There's your audience, slut."

My hand goes to my slippery dick; I need to tug it.

"No," she says and she slaps my hand. "Not yet. First you're going to walk around, so everybody that you're a slut."

"Okay," I mumble as I tighten my asshole as to not let out my new friend.

She lets go of my hair and we walk around the party. I see an ex-girlfriend who giggles at me. I see another girl who giggles at first and then shuts up when she sees my really hard dong pointing right at her, with precum oozing out like my soul, open to the air.

"Dude, somebody jizzed on your face," some asshole laughs.

I turn to him and I say calmly, "That's my jizz, man."

People looking at my body, judging me and loving me. 

I turn to Holly like a good little dog. "Can I cum now? I'm so hard it hurts."

"Yes," she says.

Here in the living room, surrounded by girls and boys, some of whom I know, some who I don't know. I grip my cock and imagine cumming onto my audience. 

I pump my fist, making the juice more frothy and slick. I spread my legs and bend them just slightly. With my other hand, I reach between my legs and rub my vibrating asshole. My finger circles around my asshole while my hand slides effortlessly and automatically along the length of my cock. I slide that finger into my butthole and I can feel the foreign metal lodged in my rectum. I nudge it against my prostate. 

"Ughnnn," I cry out.

I look to Holly and her eyes. I don't even care about her. I just want to cum. Once and for all.

I feel so weak in my legs that I drop to my knees. I roll my fingers over my balls and I stick two fingers in my butt. I lean back on my legs and my cock points to the silent passive crowd. 

They all desire me. Not just my cock, but my body. They all desire to have me. They all want me and that's the most erotic thing I can think of.

My sack tightens again. I'm going to cum.

I want it. I welcome it. 

My two fingers in my ass shove the vibrator against my prostate and I squeeze my cock. 

I'm almost screaming.

I shudder and quake and there's this pause, where I've gone over the precipice into a dimension of orgasm. Every muscle in my naked body tenses like in a marathon.

The pause ends in explosion as cum erupts from my cock. The white lines whip out and slap against a guy's denim thigh. Another rope lands on the carpet. It pours out over my knuckles and slides along my forearm. 

Everybody watches me. Everybody loves me.

I shiver as the last of the juice is milked out onto my hand. I taste a little of the cum and it's wonderful. When the vibrator slides out, I groan. 

I collapse onto the floor and my face falls into my own cum. It's so warm and inviting. I slip into sleep, even though tonight I woke up for the first time.