2 comments/ 4364 views/ 1 favorites Lips By: Lady_Fiona This tale was inspired by one of the avatars on the Lit Forum. I was so awestruck by its simplicity and promise, that I wrote this. My thanks go to Wings27 for her beautiful lips. ***************** She walked into the crowded room and looked for somewhere to sit. Shy and conscious she looked for a dark corner as was her custom, from which she could watch the world go by, the beautiful people mingling, talking, laughing, interacting with one another, both singly and in groups. Men and women kissing the air as they passed each other, greeting and moving on, laughing with smiles both false and true. Making her way to her decided seat in a corner she made herself comfortable, her favourite pastime of people watching now coming to the fore. She scruitinized each person one by one, small and tall, large and thin, male and female, sexuality oozing, body language giving people away, conversation loud and soft surrounding her. Skimming back and forth she noticed the same people time and time again, the girl with the flame red hair, the man with the loud ridiculous laugh, the tiny old lady with the shock of white hair who was talking the tall curvy girl. Each sweep of the room brought someone new coupled with the ones she had already seen but each time her eyes rested on the tall girl and the small white haired lady. The tall girl had a dress that was elegant and fitted her curves well, her long legs and well turned ankles accentuated by high strappy peep toe shoes, her toes painted neon pink, possibly the only indicator to the nature of the girl inside. She sat fascinated by the girls features, soul searching eyes, she was certain they saw more than she ever gave acknowledgement to, expressive eyebrows above them. The thing that captured her the most though was her lips. The most sensual lips that she had ever seen moved softly as she watched. It only took a short time for her to become completely mezmerised by them. She continued to watch as in turn the lips were pursed seriously, then again as they stretched into a smile, outlined in pale pink, her make-up natural, her hair as elegant as her dress, captured and held, leaving tiny whisps around the nape of her neck, small curls daring fingers to twirl them, play with them, caress them. She watched as the tall girl suddenly looked up, excusing herself from her conversation with her tiny companion to smile broadly at a tall, dark young man. It was evident from that moment that they only had eyes for each other, hers searching his soul, piercing it as he opened to her. He grinned at the unspoken welcome, her eyebrow raised cheekily in reply. She watched as the young man endured polite introductions to the tiny white haired lady and she smiled as he tried to show interest in thier conversation, watching as her eyes watched him, her lips in a mischevious smirk. The white haired lady, her conversation finished, moved on and the pale pink lips broke into a broad smile, laughing as her companion chastised her, eyes diverted demurely, her lips still turned up at the corners, the promise of mischief on them. She watched the interaction between the couple and it grew evident that her face was the reason he fell in love with her, his every reason for living was standing in front of him now. The tall girl watched him, her soft words unheard around them, perfectly formed words from perfectly formed lips, floating, voices mingling around them as the sparks flew unseen by all around but clearly visible to the watcher in the corner. She watched the couple as the bubble grew around them, still drawn to watching her face, her lips speaking words only he could hear, sensual, sexual, as he replied in kind, making a smile form once more on those perfect lips, as they moved again, a myriad of different shapes until finally, the couple began to move across the room. So captivated by the lips, the watcher stood to find out where they were going and continued to watch as he helped her get ready to leave. A wave of loss flowed over her at the realisation that she would never see them again and never know who they belonged to. The couple left, the tall curvy girl and her tall dark man, into the night. The most sensual lips with words whispered and promises as yet unspoken. Lips of an Angel The room was completely silent as Paige's eyes welled up with tears. She tried to hold back, but it was no use. The stinging on her cheek was just as raw as the emotional pain. Her body shook, so she gripped the marble countertop for balance. White knuckles were a sharp contrast to the black speckled coldness. Her heart ached. Paige blinked to see properly, her vision blurred by her salty tears. She was almost composed when it happened again. "Don't you dare stand there crying like you're the innocent one." His voice was loud and sharp, and echoed in the massive kitchen. It was the only sound in the whole house except for the barely audible hum of the furnace. It was that quiet. "I've given you everything you've ever wanted, and don't you even think I won't take it away from you." Paige winced. She saw the flash of movement and heard the crunching sound as his fist met her nose; she had closed her eyes and gripped the expensive counter with both hands. The sound of his heavy steps on the tile floor receded until they faded altogether. Paige didn't have to open her eyes. She knew exactly where he was going. He would get into his sports car and take off to the local bar. He would drink, buy alcohol for others, and flirt with anything that was breathing and had breasts that were more then a handful. Strangely enough, he didn't consider this cheating. Even though he'd get home in the wee hours of the morning smelling like cheap perfume, she was not allowed to say anything. Paige breathed in through her nose and began to choke. Her throat filled with the hot syrup of blood. The pain radiating from her cheek had masked the fact that her nose was bleeding. She opened her eyes and spun around to lean over the sink. The overhead lights cast a shadow, but she could see that she had blood gushing from her nose. She grabbed a towel and tried to stop the bleeding. Leaning forward a bit, breathing through her mouth seemed to help calm herself down. Paige needed to concentrate on one thing and one thing only. She remembered her days as a lifeguard, knew that she had to apply pressure to the fleshy part of her nose and tilt her head forward slightly. She waited a few minutes until she felt no more blood gushing out. She dabbed her nose gently and then began to clean up the kitchen. There was blood on the countertop. She noticed that when she placed her hand on it and felt the stickiness of the liquid. The marble was dark black and her blood blended in just right. After cleaning up the droplets on the floor, she washed her hands. She held the soiled towel in her left hand and then decided to use that to pick up the shards of glass that were on the ground. The glass had been an expensive vase that he had smashed, but it didn't matter. Money was no object to him. He didn't really care for anything that was in his large house. A snobby interior designer had purchased most of the furnishings, and if she had broken the vase herself, he wouldn't have cared. Thankfully, instead of shattering, it had cracked into about a dozen large pieces. Once the kitchen was clean, she walked to the garage and threw out the soiled towel along with the broken vase. It was no use trying to clean it, and considering a thousand dollar vase had been decimated, a ten-dollar dishtowel was not worth the trouble. Paige walked slowly up the grand staircase to the master bedroom. She took each step slowly, reminding herself of all the positive characteristics of her boyfriend. She knew there were thirty-four steps from the living room to the entrance of the bedroom. This was not the first time she had forced herself to do this. Counting them was the only way for her to keep from falling apart completely. Paige entered the bedroom and looked around. There was not one trace of warmth or personality in this room. It was like a hotel room. Everything was neat and organized. The bed was a massive entity in the middle of the room. The wall behind it had floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the front lawn. On the left-hand side of the bed were her dresser, his clothes chest, and an overstuffed chair. The wall on the other side had two doors. One led to the massive walk-in closet, and the other to the bathroom. They were French doors that made the bathroom feel more like a fancy spa. Paige walked past the bed and into the bathroom and looked at her reflection. The sight of her cuts and bruises no longer affected her. The first time this had happened, she was appalled at her appearance and had broken down in tears. Now she gently washed her face, then put antiseptic on her cheek where his ring had caught her skin and scratched it. She didn't want it infected since she didn't want anyone to notice this injury any more then necessary. Her nose had a small bruise but was otherwise uninjured. She was thankful for that. Her brother had broken his nose playing baseball when they were younger and she remembered that it had taken two surgeries to reconstruct it. She was not up to dealing with complications. It was only after showering and changing into her pajamas that she thought of Peter. It wasn't that she ever stopped thinking of him. He was always there in the back of her mind. Most times, she wondered what he was doing at any given time. She had his schedule memorized, so all she had to do was look at the time and know whether he was at work, at the gym, or at home. Sometimes she would close her eyes and imagine what he was wearing. It was weird, really. That scent was what she missed most about him. He always had this clean smell, with a touch of spicy after-shave. She had once asked him to give her one of his sweatshirts, but was afraid that her current boyfriend would find out. It started to rain outside, and Paige lay back in bed, loving the soothing sound of the raindrops hitting the window. She was in need of comforting because what she desperately wanted to do was call Peter. "I will not call him." Paige spoke aloud and repeated the words a few times, like a mantra. She tried to reason with herself that the more times she said it, the more likely she would not call him. His girlfriend was home almost every night and could possibly answer the phone. They could be watching a movie, or cooking a late dinner. Paige gulped as she then thought that they could be having sex. She did not want to imagine that. *** It was dark outside and the smell in the air hinted that a storm was rolling in. Peter was sprawled out on the blue and pink flowered couch wearing silk pajama bottoms. He had wanted to wear his comfortable cotton pants, but his girlfriend had thrown them out. He didn't care that the seam down the left leg had been ripped completely; to him they were broken-in. He was lounging around his apartment and didn't worry what he looked like. She was always concerned about appearances. High-maintenance was the proper term. Peter had originally thought it was appealing. He'd thought it was charming that she had been an hour late for their first date, and adorable that he had never seen her without makeup until they had moved in together. Everything annoying and bothersome about her he'd once found charming and sweet. "I'm making popcorn, do you want any?" Peter heard her distinctive high-pitched voice from the kitchen. "No, thank you." He didn't even need to turn around to know exactly what was going on behind him. She was wearing pink yoga pants and a matching tank top. Her hair was in a braid and she looked a lot younger then she was. She would put the popcorn in the microwave and do stretches while waiting for it to cook. Peter had originally loved how amazing and sexy it was to be dating a professional dancer, but the thrill of that part of their relationship was gone. Actually, every exhilarating part of their relationship was gone, and there was only one reason for that – Paige. He was not over her and never would be. As he sat and watched television, he wanted her next to him. She would cuddle with him and watch the immature cartoons that he loved. She would let him drink beer from the bottle and be fine with him wearing ripped pajamas. He could never be over her for so many reasons. Peter stared blankly at the television. He wasn't paying attention to the movements and flickers. He was remembering when they had broken up. It felt like yesterday, partly because he ran the scene through his head at least once a day since that fateful date almost a year ago. *** Peter had been kept late at work and had wanted to go to the gym and exercise before coming home. He had lost track of time and it wasn't until he got out of his truck that his heart sank to the ground. It was a cold November day and the weather was rainy. If the temperature dropped even a few degrees, it would be snow. Sitting on the outside steps to his basement apartment was Paige. She was shivering, but smiled the moment she saw him. "How long have you been waiting?" Peter was angry with himself and his tone of voice showed his resentment. He wasn't irritated with her but couldn't help himself from showing her his true feelings. "Only a few hours. It's fine, really." Paige was smiling sweetly. Her hazel eyes were full of life, and that made Peter feel even worse then before. "A few hours? It's freezing outside." Peter pushed past Paige and unlocked the door. The heat from inside rushed out and felt good on his cold face. He couldn't imagine how chilled she must be, but she hid it very well. They entered, and he secured his front entranceway. "I'm fine." Peter glanced up and couldn't even look Paige in the eye. She had removed her coat to reveal a short jean skirt and low-cut top. White leggings covered her legs and she had her blonde hair in a ponytail. She looked so adorable and innocent. The icy wind left her cheeks flushed, and as he glanced down to her feet, he noticed her wiggling her toes around, trying to increase the circulation. He needed to do or say something, but she was making it very hard for him. Without even realizing it, she was making his cock swell in his jeans. He could feel the blood flow directly to it. She had always had that effect on him, and tonight was no different. "Paige, we need to talk." Peter didn't want to say those words. It was a long time coming but both of them knew that the relationship was failing. They didn't have the energy to deal with all the stressful issues of making a relationship work. The only thing that was amazing was the sex. "No, we don't. I'm fine Peter. Really." Paige's eyes were begging him not to continue. They had started this conversation three times in the last few weeks, and each time he had given in and not broken up with her. This time he had to be strong. "Paige, I love you. I always will. It's not fair what we're doing to each other. I've turned down two promotions because I don't want to move. You're still in school and I'm too selfish to turn this into a long-distance relationship. You drop everything important in your life just to be with me. I was two hours late and you just sat at my doorstep." "I didn't mind. I got some reading done." Paige blurted out those words frantically. She had taken the few steps towards him and pushed her freezing hands into his thick, chocolate hair. Peter closed his eyes. She was pressing her body against him and he knew she could feel his hardness. He wished she repulsed him. He wanted to be able to make a clean break, but it was no use. He kissed her. Paige gasped as his burning hot lips pressed against hers. All her worries and frustrations slipped away as his hands gripped her small, round butt. He tapped his fingers gently against the curve of her body. She tried to breathe, but he was kissing her so aggressively, she didn't have a chance. Peter pushed her forcefully toward the bedroom, but Paige wasn't paying attention. Her small hands were fumbling with his jeans, and the moment they were undone, she sighed. His thick cock fell into her hand. It made her feel incredible. She had only begun to stroke him when he pushed her backwards onto his bed. Their lips parted, and her chest rose as her lungs filled again with air. "We have to stop doing this." Peter pulled his shirt over his head to reveal his firm, bare chest. He took care of his body, and it showed. His jeans were already undone, so he slid them down along with his gray boxers to pool at his ankles. Stepping out of his denims, he kicked them away. He bent down to remove his socks. When he stood up, she was doing nothing but stare. "Undress. Now." Peter's voice was urgent. He had his hand wrapped tight around his thick cock and he was stroking hard. The room was dark, but the outside streetlights cast a thin stream of light into the room. They didn't need it; they knew each other so well. He knew exactly where the light scar on her stomach was located from when she'd had her appendix removed when she was ten. Peter had no distinctive scars, but Paige could kiss and nibble his body, knowing by touch the exact spots of arousal. Peter watched in the dimness as Paige pulled off her shirt, bra and skirt. She then got up on her knees to wiggle out of her leggings. Peter grunted as the wool material slid down her legs. Once they were off, she removed her panties, which were a simple cotton bikini brief. This was what Peter loved about Paige. She was so undemanding, so normal. She didn't need expensive clothing to feel good about herself. Naked at last, she kneeled on the bed, an innocent smile on her face. Peter took a deep breath, and his nostrils filled with the scent of her sweet pussy. He didn't even have to glance down or slide his thick fingers into her burning core to know that she was dripping. "I'm okay with everything." Paige's voice was soft and sensual. Her eyes locked on his cock, and she was unconsciously licking her lips. She was an amazing cocksucker and would spend hours just sucking and licking him. She had said on many occasions that she loved the power and control she had while going down on him. Paige loved the taste of his precum and enjoyed feeling him throb in her mouth. He could never complain about her eagerness. "It's fine if we don't have time to be together a lot. I love you." Paige's last words drove Peter over the edge. She did love him, and he loved her just as much. At that moment, everything came crashing down on him. His mind was racing with a million thoughts. He needed to fuck her so badly. His cock was doing the thinking and all he wanted was her pussy. He loved her so much it made him ache. He was hurting her with every second that passed when they stayed together. He needed to break free from this, but his cock was telling him that just one more time inside her was best. He grabbed her and pushed her backwards onto the bed. He lay on top and shoved his cock deep inside her waiting pussy. She was soaking wet as always, but had she not been, he wouldn't have been able to stop. He pulled back and pushed in so hard their hips grinded together. They had spent many evenings making passionate love. They had spent their first Valentine's Day giving each other full body massages. Peter still remembered the combination of lavender and vanilla they had used. Both of them could be sensual and romantic, but right now, this was fucking. It was pure, animalistic sex. He grunted and did it again. "We can't do this anymore." Peter was kneeling now. Looking down, he saw her soft pink pussy lips wrapped tightly around his cock. She waxed completely, which had surprised him the first time he had gone down on her. He remembered how she had blushed with embarrassment, explaining that as a lifeguard, she was in a bathing suit so much that it just made things easier. He had loved her practical explanation, but it didn't remove the fact that her pussy was just plain sexy. Her clit was throbbing, and moisture was seeping down around his cock. Peter growled and reached down to find her hard bud. He rubbed it roughly, grinning as Paige lost control. She bucked her hips up and down as she held her breath. Paige had been able to control her impending orgasm the whole time Peter fucked her senseless. It wasn't until he pushed down on her clit that she lost it. Her body shook and she whimpered quietly. "Come, baby. Do it." Peter leaned over and wrapped his lips around her earlobe. Her legs were over his shoulders, almost bending her in two. He knew she loved this position because his cock was nudging the entrance to her womb. "I love you." Peter held her face in his hands as he thrust hard into her pussy one last time. He was not going to last another second. She wouldn't care one bit. He wanted to hold on, but gave in to his need. He breathed in, smelling her shampoo and perfume. He was addicted to her scent, and that was what drove him over the edge. All he could do was gasp for breath as his cock erupted inside her. He had climaxed and was now trying to recover. The room smelled like sex, and the only sound was their heavy breathing. He finally sat back up, pulling her into his lap, his semi-hard cock still deep inside her. "It's over," Peter whispered, and then wiped the tears that were spilling down her cheeks. She wasn't sobbing. She wasn't saying anything. They looked at each other. It couldn't be over. Paige had left the next morning. She had taken home all the little things that she had left at his place. It wasn't much, really, just a toothbrush, lipstick, and a few magazines she liked reading in his big bathtub. They had been silent since they had awoken; there wasn't anything really to say. She left quietly, no energy to cry. He had shut his door and then sat on his couch. Everything around him reminded him of her. This was the hardest breakup he had ever dealt with, because he actually loved her. *** The phone rang and Peter answered it. He had been lost in thought, and noticed that the show he had been watching was over. He picked up the phone. "Hello?" "Hi." Peter's stomach lurched. It was more than a coincidence. How did she know that he had been daydreaming about their last time together? How did she know that right now, more than anything, he needed to hear her voice? He tried to compose himself, glancing into the kitchen, where his girlfriend was deep in thought. She was working on her thesis, and the flickering from her laptop created an eerie glow on her face. She would not notice anything that Peter was doing until she decided she needed a break. "Honey, why are you calling me so late?" Peter turned sideways on the couch so he could keep an eye on his girlfriend. He was whispering as he heard Paige's voice. She was sobbing quietly, and he desperately wanted to hug her tightly and tell her everything would be okay. "I just wanted to call and say hello." Paige was trying to stay calm, but the moment she'd dialed his number, the tears had begun to flow again. He knew nothing about the injuries she sustained on a regular basis. He knew that it was dangerous for them to talk and that it could start a fight, but Peter was clueless to the extent of Paige's unhappiness. Peter's eyes shifted from the kitchen to the television. He did not want his girlfriend to catch him, but he enjoyed talking to Paige. It was wrong, but she was his addiction. "He's out tonight again. I'm just alone in the house and wanted to say hi." Paige bit her lip as she struggled to control her words. She wanted to say more, but would not be the cause of the breakup between Peter and his girlfriend. She heard him sigh deeply. Paige knew that if he were in the same room, he would know right away that she was lying. She was glancing around and biting her lip, two gestures that gave away her dishonesty. "She's in the kitchen." Peter grabbed one of the throw pillows from the couch and placed it in his lap. In just a short few minutes, his cock had swelled, and Paige was the cause. She still had that effect on him. Her voice was hesitant and quiet. This was not the first time she had called, and it made him feel helpless and useless. Nothing he said would erase the pain that both of them suffered. Lips of Inspiration Parts of the story refers to memories, related by the main character, when they were all underage but there is no sex when they were underage. They are all over 18 in this story. The characters, location etc are completely fictitious. * * * * * If you know anything about California, especially Southern California, you know that Blythe, California is one of the hottest places in North America, second only to Needles and Death Valley. Me and my two girlfriends grew up in this hot hellhole and since we were pretty much born here, this was home. My name is Chrissie. With my two other girlfriends, Marcie and Cindy, we were always together hanging out, getting in trouble, comparing notes about guys, the usual stuff. Marcie was fast-talking and fearless; she never missed a thing. She was able to talk herself into, or out of, almost anything. Marcie had shortish brown hair and big pretty brown eyes. She was thin and hyper, no ass to speak of but she had a nice pair of boobs. Cindy was almost the opposite. She was little on the chubby side with small breasts; poor thing. She had blond hair but did have a cute face with big full lips. Along with those lips came the tendency to say what ever came into her head, most of the time without thinking about it first. Marcie and Cindy always called me the "pretty one". I was quiet, with light brown hair and big green eyes, and I have to admit, with bigger boobs than Marcie and Cindy put together. About 3 or 4 years ago, I think Marcie was 14, she befriended this guy down the street from her house. Marcie would just wander the neighborhood being her typical restless self, just looking for something to do, and one day, a couple of blocks from her house, she hears music. It sounds like "live" music, not the radio or a CD. It's just a single guitar. Marcie follows the sound to a non-de-script house and in Marcie's fearless manner, just walks in. There sitting on a stool, is a guy just playing guitar. Blues guitar, I guess (he would later call it "R&B" or just "Blues"). Marcie noticed that he didn't seem to notice her at first. Then he stopped playing and said: "Hello? Someone there?" Marcie then realized he was blind. "Hi" Marcie said, "I just heard the cool guitar from outside and followed the sound. Sorry. I didn't mean to barge in on you" "That's OK" he said. "You play guitar really good" Marcie said. "Well" he declared. "Huh?" Marcie was confused. "You play guitar really 'WELL'" he corrected her. "Oh. Got it. Yeah. You play guitar really well" Marcie repeated, almost like she was in class. "Thank you. Thank you very much..." he said, with an obvious Elvis twang. Marcie laughed. "My name is Marcie" Marcie declared. "Nice to meet you Marcie. My name is Steve". Steve put his hand out to shake, his eyes and head looking in a different direction from where his hand was. Marcie walked around to his hand and politely shook it. Steve went back to playing. After about 5 minutes, Marcie, always hyper and restless, in her usual way, said: "Can I bum a cigarette?" "How old are you?" Steve asked. "Ummm, I'm going to be 15 in another two months" said Marcie defensively. "Hell, no you can't bum a cigarette!" "Why aren't you in school?" "It's summer!" Marcie said, with a tone of "DUH!" "Well I'm kinda busy right now. Maybe you should just run along" Steve grumbled. "OK" Marcie said, a little let down. "Can I come back sometime and bring my girlfriends so we can listen to you play?" Marcie asked. "Sure, sure... We'll see you later" Steve said, with a polite but obvious tone that said "leave". Marcie met us later and we talked about the usual stuff and she told us all about the blind guitar player down her street. During the rest of that summer and a few more summers after that, we would drop in on Steve once or twice a week and drive him crazy. Marcie kept trying to bum cigarettes. He finally let her have one after she turned 16. Then she started asking him to let us have a beer. "OK. That's it. Out. See you later. No beer" and pointed (sort of) toward the door. We left, but we'd come back in a few days and he'd be cool, like it never happened. We just liked hanging out at Steve's as it was a place to go. In Blythe, there was NO place to go. He was pretty cool, just played his guitar and let us hang around as long we didn't get him too irritated. He also had A/C! When it was really hot (which was most of the time), Steve would just wear an old tattered pair of gym shorts. The gym shorts looked 20 years old, with holes and tears and so thin there wasn't much holding 'em together. We would hang out and listen to him play, and with him wearing these old shorts, I could pretty easily tell that he had a huge dick. One day, the three of us were hanging around at the park talking about stuff when Cindy, as usual, just blurted out, "Have you guys noticed that Steve has a huge dick?" Marcie, always the cool one, "Yeah, Cindy" looking at me for confirmation, "It's a little hard to miss." One time he was playing on his guitar stool and we could all clearly see the full length of his dick through his shorts and after he drank a few beers, he was really getting into his guitar playing, almost all of his dick was just hanging out. The three of us just looked at each other in amazement. He must have felt a draft or something because he quickly pulled his shorts around to cover himself up but it was a little bit of a struggle as he had a LOT to cover up. We looked at each other and silently giggled. Marcie started calling him "Blind Melon" as a joke from the old Cheech and Chong "Blind Melon Chitlin" about the black, blind, blues guitar player with the huge dick. Marcie would call him "Blind Melon" and he would just go along with it, until once he finally asked: "What's with the 'Blind Melon'?" Marcie just said, "You know the old joke stereotype. The black, blind, blues guitar player, except you're not black. It's just a silly nickname." We found out during our many annoying visits that he had written a couple of hit songs years ago and so didn't really need to work since he lived off the royalties. He also got into a terrible car wreck which blinded him about 7 years ago. He also gets a check every month from an insurance company because of the wreck and being blinded. One day after drinking a few beers, he confessed to us that the wreck and becoming blind took all his musical inspiration. He said he just didn't have the old "mojo" as he called it, for songwriting. He also largely stopped dating. He didn't really want to go through the trials and hassles of finding a woman who was also blind, but he knew that dating a sighted woman brought it's own set of challenges so he basically gave up. The following summer, it was ANOTHER hot day in Blythe (who could have guessed?), and the power was out all over town from the heat wave. Even for Blythe, this was HOT. Marcie suggested we go hang out at Steve's since there was nothing else to do. It was at least 110 degrees and it was only early afternoon. We walked into Steve's place and, as usual he was sitting on his stool, playing his guitar. It was really warm inside but there was a breeze coming from somewhere. "How do you have fans going and the TV on?" Cindy asked. "Got a little Honda generator out back. I use it for times like now." Steve said. "My God. It's got to be over 100 in here!" Marcie said. "That's why there's three fans going and my handy-dandy 'Blind Melon' swamp cooler." joked Steve, at his own expense, said and went back to playing. Steve had nothing on except the same old gym shorts. No shirt, no shoes. Cindy, in her typical fashion, just blurted out: "With those ratty old gym shorts you have on, you may as well be naked. There's hardly anything left of 'em. It's so hot in here anyways" Steve deadpanned, "That's exactly what I do on hot nights when no one's around" Cindy asked, "You play naked?" Steve simply replied, "Yup" Cindy, again just blurted out: "That's awesome!" Cindy caught herself and, realizing she was being quite revealing about what she was thinking, covered her mouth and just looked at the floor. Marcie cut in, "Well, hey, just pretend we're not here. Like Cindy said about the shorts, it's not like there's much left to the imagination." "I don't know..." Steve said. "Come on" Marcie insisted. "We're not going to say anything to anyone, and besides it's not like we're a bunch of prudes." "Well...." Steve stammered. A sudden thought struck Marcie and she turned to Cindy and I: "Hey, you know what you guys? It's like over a hundred degrees in here, right?" "Yeah..." Cindy and I agreed. "Let's take our tops off. If you were home alone right now, would you be wearing a top?" Marcie asked. "No way" I said. "Me either" Cindy agreed. "Well, 'Blind Melon' over here won't be able to tell (smirking and gesturing toward Steve) and we'll be able to cool off in front of the fans and hear him play". We both nodded. Marcie started pulling her top off right away and snapped off her bra, turned toward one of the fans and let it blow on her breasts, which had that moist glow of perspiration. We immediately followed suit. It was SO hot, we didn't care anymore. Steve was playing his guitar and oblivious. It felt wonderful to feel the cool breeze and it also felt kind of scary to be hopping around the room half-naked with this man just a couple of feet away. I always wondered to myself: Is Steve like, completely blind, or can he see a little? Is he totally faking it? Now there were three paris of young breasts bouncing around his living room and he was completely oblivious to it so I was convinced: He was 100% blind. "Ok, 'Blind Melon'" Marcie said in her kidding but always sarcastic way. "What?" asked Steve. "The three of us are practically naked. We took off our tops to cool off so you have to drop your bottoms" Marci declared in a tone made her almost sounded like a referee. "OK." Steve said and stood up. We all stood there motionless. He dropped his shorts and without hesitation, started to pick up his guitar, and the word escaped my mouth before I had a chance to think: "Whoa!" apparently escaped from my mouth. I guess now I knew how Cindy felt. Cindy, as usual had her usual phrase to blurt: "That is awesome!" "What, what?" Steve said. Marcie, cool as always, and never at a loss for words, said, "I guess there was a lot more left to the imagination than we thought!" "Come on, you guys." Steve protested. Marcie simply stated, "Well, you have, like a porn-star sized dick and we are all pretty impressed." "I just want to play my guitar." said Steve. "Go ahead and play. We're just sitting here with our boobs hanging out, feeling the nice breeze and watching the show." "Obviously, I have to take your word for it." Steve said. "Word for what?" asked Marcie. "Well, I have to take your word for it that you all took your tops off..." Steve said. "You don't believe me?" Marcie asked. "Here. I'll prove it." Steve said, "I believe you..." "No, no. I'll prove it. Hold your hand out." Marcie ordered Steve hesitated. "It's OK..." "I mean it. Put your hand out." Marcie ordered again. Steve, almost like a dog being asked to "shake" put his hand out. Once again, his head was looking off at a different angle. I was watching all this happen like a dream when I am jolted to reality with Marcie grabbing my arm and pushing me toward Steve. "Marcie!" I whispered. "What are you doing?!" Marcie whispered back rapidly, "Chrissie, just let him feel your breast and it will be over. Steve's not a horndog, you know that. He'll be a gentleman." "You do it!" I said. "Chris, you have bigger boobs than the two of us put together! I thought he might like to be 'impressed' like we were." Marcie has this amazing effect on people. She's talked Steve into stripping naked, she's talked Cindy and I into stripping almost naked, and now I'm about to let a man feel my breast to prove that we have our tops off to a blind man. For reasons I don't understand, I obey. I move forward and barely touch my right breast against his hand. He responds immediately but so gently! He touches the skin very lightly. His fingers are BARELY touching my skin. His fingers follow the outline of my, yes, rather large breast. His fingers feel the underside of my breast and his hand ever-so-gently cups my breast, almost to get a sense of the weight. He then turns his hand over and runs the back of his fingers gently as possible, across my nipple. My heart is pounding. I am panting but trying not to be obvious. I am surging with pleasure at this man's ultra sensitive touch. He swiftly brings his hand back down, and it looks like he is also trying not to pant. "OK. I believe you. That was very, very nice." Steve said, trying to compose himself. I stepped back with Marcie and Cindy. I felt a little self-conscious but Marcie was totally cool. Cindy was spellbound and couldn't take her eyes off his dick. Steve's dick was obviously aroused. Not completely hard but, as impressive as it was at first, now it was just plain magnificent. Steve sat on his guitar stool, had on his headphones and just kept playing. We all just sat on the floor and watched (I mean listened!) to him play. He did play really well but in addition to that, now all three of us were spellbound. As he played, his body was moving slightly with the rhythm of the music and this "big swinging dick" was swaying back and forth in time with the music. Steve stopped playing, took off his headphones and lit a cigarette. His guitar was settled in his lap between his legs and below the guitar was this almost disembodied, huge hanging penis. When he played, it swayed, when he stopped, it stopped. Cindy, as usual, said, "That is awesome!" "You like that song?" Steve asked innocently. Marcie almost had to act as interpreter: "Cindy's in love with your dick. When you play, it swings back and forth and it's driving her crazy." "Marcie!" Cindy said, obviously embarrassed at Marcie's brutally honest assessment. "I like the music too." Cindy said, trying to wiggle out of being so clearly pegged. "I have some things to do, so you guys should get going." Steve said. "OK." I said. "Thanks for the music." I said, trying to be respectful. We got dressed and started to leave. We were outside when I realized I forgot my cell phone. "I left my phone. I'll be right back." I ran back in. Steve was still sitting on the stool, smoking another cigarette. "I forgot my phone." I said. I hesitated for a few seconds. I wanted get another look at his huge penis one more time but he had already put his shorts back on. I just had to tell him: "I just wanted to say that the way you touched my breast was so wonderful, so sensual!" He looked puzzled. "Wait. I thought that was Marcie's breast...." I explained, "Marcie 'volunteered' me because I have the biggest boobs." Steve said simply, "Your breast felt beautiful. Silky soft skin, especially your nipple." I was starting to pant again and I could see Steve's dick fattening up through his shorts up as he recalled the experience. "Would you like it if I came back another time and you could feel both my breasts?" "I would love that." he said. "You want me to come back tonight?" I asked trying not to sound too eager. "What time?" Steve asked. I said, "Maybe around 11:00 or so..." "I'll be here..." said Steve. I went back with Marcie and Cindy. The three of us hung out for the rest of the day and I couldn't wait for tonight. I waited until 11:20 and walked into Steve's entryway. "Hello." I called out. "In here. In my usual spot." Steve said. I walked in and there he was, playing his guitar. Naked. He stopped playing. "Go ahead and finish the song. You play really well." "Thanks" said Steve simply. After he finished the song, I walked up to him and said: "Since you're naked, maybe I should be naked." Steve simply smiled and started playing 'The Stripper', that song you always hear for strippers. I started to playfully take my clothes off when I realized that he was not going to get any thrill out of it, so I just slipped out of my clothes. "Put your hands out." I said, doing my best 'Marcie' impression. Steve held out his hands. I took his hands and led them to my breasts. Steve gently caressed both of my breasts. He traced the outline of both of my breasts with each hand and ran his thumbs over my nipples. He gently squeezed them together. Again he used the back of his fingers and hands to feel my breasts all over. It was agonizingly wonderful! His touch was so light and careful that I could hardly stand it! I could see Steve's dick swelling up and rising right in between my legs. I could swear I could feel the heat from his monster penis radiating onto my thighs. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel my pussy throbbing. "Would you like me to bring my breasts up to your mouth?" I asked. I found myself asking questions in an odd way because of his blindness, but at the same time, it was also sexy. "Yes, Chrissie, please..." Steve said, obviously excited. I stood up and leaned toward him and put my left breast near his face. He inhaled deeply. "I love that smell...." "Smell?" I thought. I was confused but before I could ask, he said: "I love the smell and taste of a woman's nipples." I had to ask: "There's a smell?" "Oh yeah!" Steve said. "Maybe from the blindness; I don't think most women are even aware of it. The smell is so wonderful! It's a smell of a woman's nipples. It only comes from the nipple. It's impossible to describe. It's earthy and sexy and incredible." Before I had a chance to think about it, he had my nipple in his mouth. He sucked it so gently and then sucked my other nipple. He rolled his tongue in a circle around the tip of my nipples three of four times and then would gently suck the tip. Between his hands being so gentle and his mouth and tongue super sensitive to my breasts, I was ready to explode with an orgasm! I said, "You know what I would love to do now?" Before he could answer, I said, "I would love to massage your penis with my breasts." Steve said, "Oh yes....." I dropped down to my knees and squished my breasts together. His penis was full but not completely erect; His dick was really long and fat so the weight of it made it hang even when it was mostly hard. With my breasts squished together, I began to let myself drool (which wasn't hard to do!) into my cleavage. There was a glistening river of spit sitting in my cleavage. I came up underneath his penis and scooped it up in my cleavage. I let his penis rest there between my breasts. I was breathing so hard, I wasn't sure what I was doing but then I spread my breasts apart just slightly and with my saliva, I could feel his heavy dick sink in between my breasts. I began to immediately massage my breasts together with both hands "choo-choo" style, massaging his incredible penis in between. He began to moan: "Oh, yeah!" I kept up the massaging and his dick was growing so much that it was now poking up from between my breasts and I could easily kiss the head of it if he would let me. "I would love to kiss your penis if you would let me." I said. Steve almost yelled, "Oh, Chrissie." I immediately dropped my breasts and took his penis into my hands. I kissed the head just as I said I would. I kissed it with a more loose pucker on my lips and the wet part of the inside of my lips were sliding around the head of his penis. It was incredible. I hated to torture him but I said: "I need to let your penis rest for a few minutes. I'm sorry but it's so fat that I can hardly fit it into my mouth. If your penis softens up a little, I will suck it all the way into my mouth and I will suck you like you've never been sucked." Lips of Inspiration Steve just nodded. I got up and walked over to the refrigerator and got a beer. I opened it and handed it to him. He slugged it down. I kept looking at his dick to see if it was softening up. After a few minutes, it looked perfect. I couldn't stand it any longer and, without warning him, I just sucked his dick into my mouth. "Oh my God!" Steve cried out. It was so wonderful. I sucked on his dick and was growing huge inside my mouth. I sucked him very gently in the same way he was gentle with me. I would slide his penis out just to the tip and keep my pucker loose, but firm enough that I could feel the shape of the head and the folds of skin. I would stay focused on the tip for a few minutes, kissing it and sucking it, and I could feel the rest of his penis softening slightly. When I felt that softening, I gently slid my mouth down the length of his dick and started rhythmically but very slowly sliding my mouth up and down the shaft. I knew from what he had said before, that he was not going to last long. I could feel the spasms after just a couple of minutes. I let him blow big. And big it was. Ve-freaking-suvius! I managed to hold onto him as he came so big. I loved every second. He was so weak after that, I just led him to bed and he almost passed out. I covered him with a single sheet (it was still hot!) and left. Marcie and Cindy and I still came by every now and again and I just acted innocent. I gave him a little "love tap" when no one was looking as I passed by and he would just grin. I was actually able to get something past Marcie without her knowing. A few weeks later, we saw a "For Rent" sign on Steve's house. We went inside right away and asked what was going on. Steve just said, "Don't you guys ever listen to the radio?" Of course, we didn't. We were the iPod generation. What's radio? "What are you talking about?" Marcie asked. "I was inspired." Steve said. "I wrote another song and it was a hit! Haven't you guys heard the song 'Lips of Inspiration?'" We had all heard it. It was sung by a female Hip-Hop singer. I couldn't believe it. He had written it in such a way as to be non-sexual, but very sensual, and also not gender-specific. I was impressed. And very flattered. After listening to the words, I knew who and what he was talking about. It was all about my lips on his penis but he worded it so cleverly I pulled Steve aside, "I'm so happy for you" I told Steve. "If you'd like me to come back one more time before you leave, maybe I could 'inspire' you one more time." "I think I'd like that." Steve said "Tonight?" I asked. "How about midnight?" Steve asked. "See you then" said Steve Steve went back to packing and turned to announce to us: "I'm moving out of this hot hell-hole by the end of the week" said Steve "By the way, you guys all have jobs now, right?" Steve asked. We all nodded. "Well, I still own this dump. I was just going to rent it out. Why don't you guys move in? I'll give you a great deal." We were so excited. He gave us a super-deal. No deposit and low rent. I got to Steve's late, almost 1:00 am and he was not playing his guitar. I walked toward his bedroom and was laying on the bed with just a sheet. I knew he couldn't be deep asleep. I slipped out of my clothes and held my breasts right over his face, my nipples almost touching his mouth. Again, the first thing he did was deeply inhale. He pulled my breasts to his face and rubbed my nipples all over his face. "I want that wonderful nipple smell all over my face and I want it to stay with me." Steve said passionately. He began to suck my breasts, which, since I was standing over him, they were hanging down and looked huge, even to me. Steve lost himself in my boobs. He, as always, very gently licked and sucked and seemed to be in another world. I took so much pleasure in the fact that I was providing him such deep pleasure. Before I knew it, I was lying on the bed and he had puckered his mouth just sightly and and was intentionally breathing his warm breath first between my breasts and then over my stomach and then his hot breath was blowing onto my pussy. He gently lifted one leg and placed his entire mouth over my pussy! I don't know if there's a genetic link between penis size and tongue size, but he was moving his tongue in and out of my pussy and it felt like it was going in very deep. It was beyond fantastic! I am absolutely sure I've never felt a tongue so far inside my pussy. Small tremors of orgasms were rippling through me and I know soon, "the big one" was coming. His tongue was moving all around inside my pussy and the pleasure was indescribable. I had never been tongue-fucked before! Then he puckered up slightly and placed his mouth right over my clitoris. He sucked gently but constantly and I could feel my clitoris getting fuller, larger and harder. Then he began to gently, I mean gently, so gently that it was sensual torture, but he was rhythmically massaging my clitoris with his tongue. "The big one" was flowing toward me like a landslide. Boom! Wave after wave of intense, feverish orgasms. After a minute, it was more than I could take. I gently rolled Steve onto his back. His penis was in that perfect semi-soft state that's perfect for sucking. I laid my head on his stomach, pulled his penis up and into my mouth and began gently rocking back and forth. I wanted to get into that rhythm where I could just keep sucking by rocking back and forth. I didn't want him to come too fast but I wanted to make sure this gentle sucking felt good. Steve seemed to love it. I rocked my head back and as I rocked it forward, Steve would gently rock his hips so that he was ever-so-lightly, fucking my mouth. His dick wasn't completely hard but still firm so it felt really great in my mouth. I don't know how long we kept at it but it was over an hour. I could feel Steve getting closer. His hip thrusts were getting deeper. I lunged forward to swallow as much of his dick as I could. I did this three more times and he exploded with cum. I laid down next to him and said, "Do you think you might be inspired to write another song?" Steve said slyly, "What I'm feeling right now I don't think they could play on the radio." He said, "But maybe I'll write something like: 'The Taste of your Skin' or even 'The Smell of your Skin'. He got up and immediately started fooling around on his guitar. I got dressed and walked up to him and said, "I'll be listening for it on the radio." I kissed him on the cheek and said goodbye. He waved, smiled, and went back to playing. Lips to Lips Pressing lips to lips. Soft at first, almost reluctant, unsure. As this new sensation registers as enjoyable, you move in closer, our silky soft lips moving in unison. My hands come up to run through your hair and caress your face. My tongue surprises you by subtly sweeping over your lips, another sensation to savour. Our kissing becomes more passionate bordering on aggressive, a deep hunger for each other driving our desires. Our tongues connect in an electrical moment and brush over each other softly, smoothly in an intricate dance as our lips press together and come apart, teasing each other but at the same time longing for each other's presence. My hands drop down to your waist and pull you even closer to me, our bodies connected as one as our passions grow with every breath, every heartbeat, every touch. Pushing you back effortlessly, I pin you against the wall, the burning desire of my kisses not ceasing for a moment. My hands travel down your luscious body, entwining my fingers in your own, bringing your arms up to kiss your delicate wrists. The momentary tenderness throws you, so when i move in to kiss you once again, harder than before, a small gasp escapes your lips. This small noise fires my lust for you and I'm unable to prevent myself sinking my teeth into your soft silky lips, replying with my own animal growl. Letting your hands drop, my own move to slide the straps of your dress from your shoulders. With your shoulders bare, I move in to bite them in tender abandon, sending bolts of pleasure through you, leaving red marks where my mouth has been. You throw your head back and expose your delicate white throat, my teeth eagerly sinking into your soft flesh, the sensation making you shudder. My hands roam around your back, locating the zip of your dress and undoing it in one fluid motion. The sleek fabric slides down your body, revealing your nude form, soft and curvy and trembling with unspent desire for me. Slowly, seductively, my strong hands glide over your breasts, grazing your pale pink nipples, sending small waves of pleasure thru your sexually charged body. Weighing them in my hands i marvel at their softness, at the effect my touch has on your body. Sucking slowly and firmly on your nipples they stiffen and deepen in colour. Already i can detect the scent of your desire in the air as my hand comes up between your legs and into contact with the intense heat radiating from your excited sex. I catch your gaze and smile; my own bright blue eyes sparkle and shine, a look of mischief that is reflected in the quick smile I flash before dropping to my knees in front of you. My hands trail down your body, fingertips circling your navel, my thumbs lightly stroking the line of your hip bone, a natural guide that leads me further down to your secret treasure. My left hand comes up under your thigh, urging you to lift your leg. You comply without protest, draping your right leg over my shoulder. Your back pressed against the wall to steady yourself, adjusting your balance to this new position. What a sight I am fortunate enough to be witness to as you expose yourself to me!! Such a neat and delectable young pussy you have!! A light dusting of pubic hair crowns the prettiest pussy I've ever seen. Your puffy outer labia already glistening with your juices, already reveal swollen pink inner lips. And at the apex, a shining pink pearl. Pausing for a moment I let a soft breeze play over your sensitive flesh, the cooling sensation at odds with the heat radiating. This will be a pleasure like no other. Leaning in, I begin to plant kisses over your tender thighs, lightly flicking my tongue over the soft skin, enjoying the musky scent of your womanhood. My left hand comes up the back of your leg, gliding smoothly up to the tight firm buttock. I can't help squeezing just a little harder than I should, letting my nails sink in a little, causing an unconscious thrusting of your hips in my direction- what better sign to proceed could I ask for? My hand rests on your mons, on the soft patch of pubic hair, my thumb seeking the thin hood covering your magic button. Pulling up gently, your small swollen clit pops out of its hood, now exposed I waste no time lashing it firmly with my tongue. The sudden stimulation is incredible, the gear change makes you gasp and leaves your body trembling as I continue my assault. My tongue flicks over your fleshy outer lips, gathering them between my lips and nibbling gently, first one, then the other, savouring the taste of your honey. My tongue delves deeper into your folds, my fingers working in unison to reveal all to me, massaging lips now a deep red as they swell with excitement. Your pussy floods a continuing stream of its sweet cream, a natural lubricant which aids my fingers as they slowly slide into you, penetrating your inner core. The twin sensations of my fingers massaging inside you and my tongue dancing over your clit sends you to a whole new level of pleasure, enough to illicit groans and a few choice invectives that only serve to spur me on further. I'm like a man possessed, tonguing your pussy with such fervor as you have never experienced. Feeling your body respond, hearing your cries of pleasure, inspire me to double my efforts. My fingers slide easily between your slick lips, your hungry pussy drawing them in deeply, enabling me to reach every inch of your hot wet canal. Pulling your skin tight draws the hood back and further exposes your clitoris, now fully distended, a thousands nerve endings all coming together in a space barely a quarter inch across, the sensations are almost too much for you alone to bear. Taking the magic pearl between my lips, I suck long and slow, rolling your clit between my lips, lashing it with my tongue. I can feel your body tremble, your fingers grabbing at my hair to steady yourself. The pain causes me to wince a little even as I am forced to take more of your weight as your left leg buckles a little. But you don't notice the minor pain you have caused me, lost in the sensations washing over you like a tidal wave. Your sweet pussy is leaking copiously; it is all I can do to catch the dew before it falls to the floor. Time to rack it up a notch! You can feel a digit probing your your other hole. Your juices provide plenty of lubrication; my assault on your clit never lets up, so much so that you barely notice my single finger slowly working its way past your tighter anal ring. It seems your body is eager for anything that provides you with more, a little pressure is all it takes before my finger slides in easily, fitting snugly in your ass. With two working your pussy and now this third in your rear, it doesn't take long for the orgasm that been building inside you to explode. I sense it coming, your body tenses, the hand in my hair grips harder, the breathe in your throat catches and your throbbing pussy clamps down hard on my fingers. Your deep groaning fills the air and your body is racked with a powerful orgasm that starts deep inside your pussy and radiates outward. You can feel it in your toes, your whole body shakes and trembles and your pussy gushes an incredible amount of thick cum that I eagerly lap up, my tongue continuing a dance on your cit, drawing the orgasm out until you collapse in my arms, weak and exhausted.