0 comments/ 11796 views/ 1 favorites Passions By: DemonicAnge1 She lay there in the cool room. A silk cloth covering her eyes from seeing anything around. Her naked body was lying across the silken-sheeted bed. Her lover told her she would have her romantic night. Something she would never forget nor want to end. Her wrists and ankles were bound directly above and beneath her. Nothing to cause her to feel dirty by being spread wide, but yet at the same time they were loose enough to cause such a process. She squirmed from side to side. Wondering when the relief of her lover would arrive. Her mind spinning with all the possibilities that might come from this. He looked down upon his lover with loving eyes. Just the sight of her made him wanting for nothing else. He lay down besides her… Her arms moving to try and embrace him. But not yet, this was not his time for pleasure, but hers. A single rose was held in his right hand… the petals slowly dragged across her flesh. Running over her cheeks. Her nose allowing her to smell the sweet sensations with in it. The rose danced across her body. Brushing over her sensitive nipples before moving across her damp exposed sex. Everything he did to her brought both moans of pleasure and whimpers of excitement to produce out. Her mind not knowing what to do with such a tease. Soon the rose was discarded… he stood onto his feet moving to the dresser… gathering that of the next three items. She gasped at the new smells and sensations. Perfume with in her lover’s hands stroked down her thighs, over her breasts and her feet. Rubbing any soreness of tenderness away. Once that was complete a powder puff ball was taken. Padding her entire body with the soft feelings. A soft white came over her skin… before she felt her lover laying kisses along her jaw line. His tiers moved down. Embracing just around her nipples. Growing close to the sensitive nubs then moving along down her body. Finally… Those teasing pair of flesh rubbed along her sex. His tongue dipping forth to taste his love. She gasped feeling the sensations flood through her. So gentle he was this night. So calm. Everything was just perfect in her eyes. The warm muscle pushed past her silken petals, rubbing deeply in side of her body. His hands stroked and caressed her form. Her body writhed back and forth. Hips grinding down against his tongue. No matter how much she tried to get her lover to become faster. The sensual slow touches would continue. Right hand moved down pushing two fingers past her folds. Lips embracing the swollen nub, bathing it in his moist mouth. Everything he was doing to her, he could tell she was enjoying. When the warm fluids of her climax spilled forth. He knew it was time to show her the true meaning of his love. Every drop of her orgasm was lapped up. As if hungry for the very essence of his beloved. His hands moved down untying her ankles her. Letting his fingers stroking along her calves. Then he lifted up untying her wrists. She tried to just embrace him then… but he then removed her blindfold. They stared into one another’s eyes. She was nearly in tears at the simple sight of his love. As they moved into each other’s arms. He moved between her legs. In a slow movement he was in side of her. She was around him. They were joined now with more then just love. Their hips moved together. She leaned her head back giving out a deafening scream. The penetration spreading her, pushing with in the moist, tight space. Her lover’s member was rubbing every portion that could cause pleasure. Everything he did. Every kiss he pressed to her body. Every touch seemed to bring the sensations tonight more so. The moment of bliss struck them both. As his warmth filled her body. They held each other tightly feeling their climaxes join into one. Both of them were becoming both friends and lovers in one another’s embrace. Both of them sharing the joined love. As he rocked her with in his arms. He kissed her forehead… for this night was not that of lust. But of love. Passions Author's Note – This summer I was in a production of the musical "Footloose" that just wrapped last week. I played Vi Moore, and I was really fascinated by the dynamic between my character and her husband. I wrote this fic for my friend Tempus, who played Shaw. It's based on the character backstory he and I came up with for the show. A note— those of you who saw the show will notice I didn't model Shaw and Vi *physically* after Tempus and me; they look like what I see in my head, not like the two of us. :-D PART I: On Any Sunday It had been six months. They hadn't had sex in six months. Why this suddenly occurred to him, Shaw Moore couldn't say. Usually it remained something on which he preferred not to dwell, and kept as little thought of as any everyday thing, if one a little more unwelcome than most. But try as he might, this time Shaw was unable to dismiss the thought from his mind. It hadn't always been that way. No, once they had been intimate to the point that it was as if they were two halves of one soul, a bond growing between them since the earliest days of their acquaintance. He had been just eighteen years old then. He attended the small seminary school just on the edge of town, and was giving himself over heart and soul to his studies— for Shaw Moore was, to the core of him, a student of divinity. From an early age it was his dearest dream, the vocation to lead people in faith and love to salvation, to be messenger to them of hope, joy, and the love of Heaven. He planned to devote himself to this, the work and will of God, his calling, his true purpose, and above all else, his passion. When first Vi came into his life, he was assigned to apprentice with the Reverend George Howell, and attended on the services the senior minister conducted. He met her, appropriately enough, through the church. From the deep commitment of his position, he came to know every attendant in the parish, especially those who volunteered a great deal of time of their own. Among those volunteers was a girl, sixteen years old, who with her charming disposition and her forthright dark eyes he could not help but notice. She contributed a great deal to the parish activities, helping to organize their events, participating in their charities, and when she sang with the choir, hers was the voice of an angel. Her name, he learned, was Miss Violet Rose Hunter, but everyone called her Vi. In no time at all, he was fascinated by the girl. He was drawn immediately to her intelligence and open, engaging personality, and the cleric in him was charmed by her pure and honest devotion to her faith. But greater even than that, there was such tenderness in her, something soft and sweet and gentle that bespoke the selfless extension of a strong and loving heart. It was that, perhaps more than anything else, for which he loved her— for God help him, he soon had fallen in love. He had been so sure that she would never look his way. No, back then she had looked to Elliot Criswell, the local young tough, who sang in the clubs and dressed in leather and kept a pack of cigarettes rolled up in his sleeve. Elliot Criswell, who was daring and dangerous and ruggedly handsome and everything Shaw Moore was not. He had heard there was something about bad boys that appealed to good girls, and he was troubled to see that even sweet, perfect Vi was not immune. He despaired of any hope of ever gaining her attention. How could Shaw compete with a boy that drove a cherry-red motorcycle and with just a toss of his dark, too-long hair could make the girls flutter and sigh? For several years, he could do nothing but love her from afar. But in time it became clear that afar would not be enough. He was afraid to present himself to her, so much of him sure that he could never be enough. But all this was lost in the blinding light of the truth that he loved this young woman, loved her and wanted her as young men do, God help him, for all that he knew such things were to be saved only for the marriage bed. But still, he'd never felt so deeply for anyone, and that depth of feeling brought about a profound change. There was always a fire beneath his mild exterior, heretofore inward and only for his work, but it was Vi that first brought it to light. Before then, the work of God and of saving souls had been his only passion, a deeply personal one that no one else could see. But for Vi, oh, for her, his spirit ignited into that firestorm of fervent intensity that made great everything it touched. His fascination with her, his love for her, and yes, even his plain desire for her drew out that intensity and showed it to the world. And by some miracle, that fire seemed to draw her. It was enough to pull her eyes away from the maverick young troublemaker and toward the thoughtful, solemn-eyed boy with the call to be a man of God. There was something white-hot and passionate within that boy, and when she saw it burned for love of her, she found she could do nothing but return it. It was at this point that Shaw Moore's life really began. With his impressive record at the seminary behind him, at twenty-one he was chosen to take over for the retiring Reverend Howell, and became the youngest minister ever to preach in Bomont. Before long he realized the time was right, time to take the next step forward, to settle down, to start a family with Vi and have her by his side forever. He was only twenty-two, her just twenty, when he gathered his courage and asked her to become his wife. He planned the moment very carefully; after selecting an engagement ring, a simple but elegant gold band set with a small diamond-cut sapphire, he took her to walk down by the lily pond at dusk, and among ivory flowers and the fairy lights of the fireflies, he went down on one knee and took her hand. "Violet Rose Hunter, will you marry me?" To hear her answer was better even than he'd imagined. She threw herself into his arms and sighed, "Oh, Shaw, of course I will." It was one of the happiest moments in all his memory. Over Elliot Criswell she had mooned and sighed, but Shaw Moore was the man with whom she chose to spend her life. As the day of their wedding drew near, Shaw found himself struggling with anxieties with which he was not sure how to deal. He had no regrets, certainly; he felt nothing but excitement for the day itself— it was instead the wedding night that gave him pause. He was more than passingly familiar with the religious establishment's long-standing conflict about sex. In almost any event it was vilified and cautioned against, and for all that he was about to enter the one circumstance under which it was acceptable, it was difficult for him to make that mental shift after so long thinking it improper. It wasn't right that he should feel any dishonor for something that should be so sacred. He was left with deeper insecurities as well. Could he be good enough for her? Would he prove to be all she wanted? He hoped for nothing more than to be able to make her happy. She was a vision in her gown that day, more achingly beautiful than he ever imagined. In an almost dreamlike state of wonder, he stood with her on the altar, exchanged the rings, and took the vows that would bind their souls forever. When night fell, and he brought her to their marriage bed where they would spend their first night together, he was still wracked with nervous doubt. But when he looked at her then, her dress not quite white but instead a creamy ivory showing in glorious contrast with her skin, he realized with a sudden shining clarity the power of his feeling for her. All the misgivings in the world could not deny the fact that he loved this woman, and he wanted her. He was awkward and unsure at first, but with Vi's encouragement he grew bolder, and explored her with a touch that was at once both eager and reverent. The sensations washed over him in an overwhelming flood, indelibly printed on his memory. How her smooth, bare skin felt beneath his palms. The shape of her, as he traced it with his fingers. And most certainly, the sensation of her touch on him, the unfathomable, awesome bliss of it. When at last they joined, to his chagrin there was pain at first, but Vi knew there would be, and soon she was moving with him toward their first brilliant, breathtaking release together as husband and wife. This was what it all meant, he understood now, what they all were meant for. To discover for himself why God made some of his children men and some of them women. To consecrate the acts of marriage that would bind them body and soul. They found their way together, and it felt so utterly right. So began their life together, and so it seemed to continue. In those early days especially, they couldn't seem to get enough of one another. All his misgivings and doubts were swept away by the power and beauty of their love, and they expressed it as often as they could. Shaw never lost that reverent awe with which he touched her body, and he admired every unique line and curve of it. Things as small and ordinary as watching her tuck her hair behind her ear, or tap a pen against her lips, could draw out the desire in him. And when they were making love, often just feeling her go over that edge was enough to take him to climax with her. By the end of the next year they welcomed their first child, Robert Shaw Moore, into the world. He had been awed and delighted by the miracle that was happening inside his wife, and did his utmost to be the most careful, attentive husband he could. Though she appreciated his efforts, Vi had to continually remind him that pregnancy had not turned her into a porcelain doll. When the baby was born, Shaw had fretted all through the delivery, pacing around the waiting room like a caged tiger, and though he was a man of no vices, he broke his own rules and resorted to a cigarette or two to handle his anxiety. It took a small eternity, but at last he was presented with a tiny, perfect bundle that was his firstborn child, with both mother and son safe. Three years later their daughter Ariel came along, as healthy and full of joy, and finally their family became complete. Motherhood suited Vi, and in more ways than one. Caring and nurturing were already so much a part of her nature, but more than anything ever before, their children brought out that matchless tenderness in her, so perfect it made his heart ache to see. Such was Vi at her quintessence, he thought, her love for her children lifting her soul to its truest and most perfect form. She was at first self-conscious at the loss of her spare, more girlish figure, but Shaw liked the changes motherhood wrought in her, making her breasts fuller now and her hips take on a lush womanly roundness he found immensely appealing. Indeed, in all ways she had grown more beautiful to him, thanks to the little miracles that were their children. As for Shaw himself, it surprised even him to discover just how much he loved those two little lives. Bobby was bright and active and looked very like his mother, dark haired, dark eyed, and growing handsome. Even so young it was clear that sweet, happy Ariel was going to be beautiful, with Vi's delicate build and shape of the face, but her coloring, her thick blonde hair and her bright blue eyes, ah, those were all Shaw's. Their shining little souls were the light and joy of his life. As if that weren't enough, his contentment at work kept apace with his happiness at home. His deep, all-encompassing commitment to his faith brought forth from him a brilliant zeal that gave great significance to everything he preached, and he had grown into such a powerful speaker that his parish came to hang onto his every word. So deep a part of Shaw Moore was the strength of his passions, and into those things in which he truly believed, he poured all the fervor of his soul. It was that fervor the brought out the best in everyone, himself included. He vividly recalled one particular Sunday morning when he and Vi were in his office in the rectory, readying for the convocation. Bobby and Ariel, then ages seven and four, were with the other parish children at Sunday school, where they would be learning their catechism during the service. At the moment, he was rehearsing his address for the rapt audience of Vi. As good as he was at what he did, Shaw had rarely ever composed a sermon to equal the one prepared for that morning. Inspiration had stuck him deep, and the words came to him as if by divine messenger, flawlessly and without effort. Reciting it now, he threw himself into it heart and soul, belief in every word, with all the power and the glory of his convictions behind him. He ended with a flourish and looked exhilarated and expectant to his wife. She clapped her hands together in front of her mouth and shook her head in wonder. "Oh, Shaw, it's beautiful! I swear, when you're like this, I don't think there's anything your words can't do." Delighted at her praise, he raked back his hair from eyes that were alight with the passion of his work. "Ah, Vi, it felt like angels were whispering in my ear!" Caught up, he swept her up in his arms and spun her around, and she laughed in delight until he sealed her lips in a kiss that ran through him like lightning. He had only meant for it to last a moment, but she moved against him with such loving enthusiasm that he could not help but respond in kind. To his surprise she kept on, and she drew it out long beyond his expectation, leaning back against the desk so that he had to press even closer. "Vi," he murmured against her mouth. "Vi, what are you doing?" She broke away from him for a moment, and for a split-second he could have sworn he saw something come over Vi, something to which he could not quite give name, something he'd never seen in her before. She perched on the edge of his desk and slid her arms around him to draw him close. She buried her face in his neck and sent her hands wandering inside his jacket, dancing along his sides, to the buttons of his shirt. His breath caught up in his chest as he realized her intent. "Vi," he choked. "Think of where we are!" But her only answer was to nip him lightly with her teeth so that a shiver ran all the way down his spine. His own hands seemed to move against his will, running up the length of her legs, from smooth calf to delicate knee to soft thigh, where he toyed with her garters, and then even higher, stealing far up under her skirt. Her reaction she kept contained, but it was powerful; he could feel it run through her like a shudder. Her hands ceased their roaming and came to seize hold of the lapels of his jacket. Holding him close, she leaned back onto the desk and pulled him down with her, down so that she lay on her back with him pressing down on top of her. He fingers trailed down his chest, his belly, his belt, and lower. He gasped through his teeth as her touch jolted through him, thrilled as much as shocked. "My God, Vi, what are we doing?" But his body belied his words, and he was shocked to realize he was sooner and more desperately ready for her than he'd ever been. "We can't!" But her legs hooked around him, and drew him down and in. "We are, Shaw," she sighed. "We already are." He had to bite down on his tongue to keep from crying out as she tore his last shred of resistance away. By instinct as much as volition he began a slow rocking motion against her. She responded immediately, moving in perfect counterpoint, rolling her hips deliciously to meet his every thrust. Her legs locked around his waist, holding him to her heat. Together they raced toward the conclusion, growing in intensity until it was enough to knock free Vi's immaculately dressed hair from its pins, and let it tumble back in shining waves. "Shaw," she gasped, and he could feel her tighten around him. He was already at the brink when he looked at her then, his beautiful wife, always so demure and delicate, with her head thrown back, her hair loose, her ankles locked in the small of his back, caught up in the throes beneath him on his desk in the rectory. The sight was enough to send him over the edge into a shattering release, harder than any in his life, and so intense that it drove the breath from his lungs. He lay atop her for a long time after, enjoying that feeling he always had afterward, that all the strength had run out of his limbs. Happily dazed in the afterglow, he began absently running his fingers through Vi's hair. God, it was beautiful when it was down. God, she was beautiful, smiling at him with a vixen's smile that somehow, in this moment, seemed perfectly at home on her. Suddenly her smile turned to alarm as she remembered what he hadn't. "The congregation!" It was true, in a moment his parishioners would all have gathered into the church to hear service he was supposed to lead. Fortunately for him, the thought was enough to galvanize Vi back into action. She pushed him to his feet and went instantly to work on him, recovering his belt and smoothing his shirt and restoring order to his hair. Shaw submitted meekly to her ministrations, unable to do much beyond struggling to stand upright on legs that felt shaky and coltish, and marvel, stunned, at what had just happened. "There," she announced, doing up the last button. He looked at her with wide-eyed, still stunned and pleasantly overcome. "Vi—" he breathed, but she silenced him with an urgent gesture and shoved his sermon book into his hands. "Go on," she told him. "They're waiting for you." That at last shook Shaw out of his daze. Gathering his wits about him, he hurried out of the rectory and into the hall, then hustled toward the door that led to just beside the altar. To his overwhelming relief he stepped out just when the choir finished its opening song, at precisely the right moment. After his morning greeting, he launched into his sermon with all the energy of when he practiced before Vi, and perhaps with a little something extra that hadn't been there before. He was in as perfect form as ever, in delivery and bearing both. Vi had restored his appearance to its usual impeccable neatness, excepting the minor detail that his belt had escaped one belt loop. When he discovered this later, he couldn't suppress an embarrassed little grin— though truth be told, he was more pleased than embarrassed. When Vi herself emerged, only a few minutes late, her skirt, blouse, and stockings were again in perfect order, and her dark hair was so smartly put up that no one could have guessed that only a moment ago it had been shaken loose to spread in a glossy tangle across his desk. He believed he should have felt guilty, but found he couldn't muster much beyond a certain smug contentment. It was not in his nature to resist Vi— and how could any man have resisted that? He was only mortal human, after all! And, oh, Where had such a minx come from, to replace his demure and decorous young wife? He had no idea, but had to admit he was more than a little intrigued. Yes, perhaps it was not the most decorous thing to make love in the rectory of a church, under God's eyes in His own house, and that was his only real qualm. But, after all, it had been the ecstasy of faith that moved him to such passion, ecstasy borne of the glory of both human and spiritual love. In that, surely the Lord could find no wrong. Shaw concluded this feeling content and light of heart. They were always in God's eyes, wherever they were, and from the honorable love between a husband and a wife, there could come no sin. The years that followed were happier than he could have ever imagined. He had two beautiful growing children, his beloved wife by his side, and his ministry was dedicated and thriving. Life could not have been more perfect. But, as perhaps he should have known, it was not in the nature of life to be perfect. Of course it could not last. Passions ~~~ Passions and Battles - 321 BC Passions and Battls - 321 BC The battle had been its fiercest for the last two days as the Chakkala army fought ruthlessly to overpower the palace of the Nakira king. The small force of the Nakira king's royal guards had been most brave and courageous and had fought like cornered tigers from the Indian jungles. In the sweltering heat and humidity of the Indian monsoon season, the battle had been won but at considerable cost. Rajah Karan the Nakira king had died in battle hardly an hour ago but took with him a number of Chakkala warriors with his sword. Rajah Sher Singh, the victorious young ruler of the Chakkala dynasty looked on with mixed feeling. His final effort had been to kill Dhool Chand the brutal commander of the Nakira infantry soldiers. Dhool Chand was known for his bravery and swordsmanship but also for his brutality and cruelty. The thrill of battle was tempered by the physical tiredness that was beginning to set in and the grief of lost comrades was starting to overpower him. The battle had been far more challenging and bloody than expected. He felt a distinctly sharp emotion of bitter regret at the loss of life on both sides and this was accompanied by an equally alarming sense of pessimism about how he was now going to rule such a proud and brave people among the Nakira. Winning this battle was the start of his new problems! At 22 years of age, he was beginning to appreciate the scale of his responsibilities and challenges ahead. The Chakkala army was rounding up all the surviving Nakira soldiers and the palace staff. The women from the palace were being ushered into a large room in the palace which was on the ladies wing. There were over 70 women in the group. From the dresses they wore, it was inferred that these were a mixture of mostly palace elite and maids in waiting. A few servants were also among the group. Rajah Sher Singh glanced casually across this group of women. He noticed the tear stained grief on their faces but he also noticed the pride and strength that these women showed even in defeat. God! No wonder the Nakira men had fought so bravely! These women were the mothers and sisters of the warriors and they displayed the same courage and character! As he scanned across the faces, he briefly noticed the young woman who was scarcely more than a girl. She could not be more than 18 and most palace girls were married by 16. Yet she did not look like a married woman as she did not have the red "bindi" on her forehead. She was unusually beautiful, not just in looks but also in manner and expression. Here almond shaped eyes shone with a deep pride mixed with grief and a little fear. Her chin was held up and her shoulders were square as her young breasts gently curved out through the silk fabric she was dressed in. Her skin was smooth and creamy and shone like polished ivory with the sweat from the heat. The dusky complexion was yet pale in areas around her arms and neck, which made the king presume that she did not get sunburnt. There was something unique about her! She must be a Princess! Could this be the famous and mysterious Princess Sujata that was spoken of all over Northern India? She had not yet married though she was 18 and it was said that she would settle for no one other than a worthy Prince who could win her heart. Rajah Sher Sing's heart skipped a beat. Princess Sujata was said to be a very accomplished musician and horse rider. She was also a good hunter who had saved her brother's life from an enraged leopard that the young prince had been hunting. She was mysterious because she did not mix much with the other aristocratic young women. Suddenly Sher Singh noticed that the Princess was aware of his interest. Her deep brown eyes took on a strange look of fear mixed with something else that tore at his inner self. Princess Sujata had been distraught with grief at the death of her father. She was also very concerned about the safety of the women from the palace. She knew that often palace women were taken away as spoils of war and often raped and killed. The lucky few were retained as concubines in a royal harem. Her thoughts went back to a year ago at the royal stables..... She was on her favourite white mare going about her daily riding routine in the forest and the orchards. As they approached the stables, here maid in waiting, Poonam, had gone to her new husband the Commander of the royal guards Arjun Singh. Princess Sujata blushed as she remembered how she had by chance seen Poonam and Arjun Singh making love in the hay last spring. That had been her first exposure to the carnal sensations that gripped her as she watched the young lovers pleasure each other. Now she was approaching the stables again and it was an hour earlier than her normal routine. She suddenly heard a whimpering cry from the hay stack. She quietly sneaked up, remembering how she had watched Poonam and Arjun Singh entwined in romantic passion at the same spot just a few months ago. Now a different sight met her. There was Dhool Chand the Commander of the infantry standing naked below his waist and holding the hair of a young girl in his hand while he was thrusting his hips into her face. His big dark phallus was ploughing in and out of the girls soft lips as she whimpered and moaned. Dhool Chand was gloating a cruel smile as he fucked the girls face. The princes realised that the girl was the stable hand's daughter Chotti who was just 18. His bearded face was sweating as he pumped his cock into the soft young mouth of Chotti. His balls were swinging among a dense mat of pubic hair. His thick cock was moving like a shiny log into the soft & wet mouth of the young Chotti. It was obvious that she was not used to such brutal abuse & her face was a bit sore as it was so red in comparison to her dark skin. Chotti was literally gagging and bobbing on Dhool Chand's massive cock.. Suddenly Dhool Chand changed his grip and turned the girl around and thrust his thick cock into Chotti's small pussy from the back. Chotti screamed into his hand as he was muffling her. He continued to pound the girl hard and yet his cock was not fully in. After many such hard and brutal strokes they settled on a rhythm. Chotti was now moving in time to Dhool Chands violent fucking thrusts and whimpering with each stroke as his thighs slammed into her small dark bum. His cock was moving more freely into her swollen pussy and the thick dark shaft was glistening with her juices and now going all the way in. Dool Chand was now holding her breasts and squeezing them violently as he slammed his cock into the servant girl. Her manner was now a bit different as she seemed to be pushing back at him vigorously as well. Her whimpers were becoming more high pitched and gurgling as Dhool Chand increased his tempo and started grunting. Her small and swollen pussy seemed to be pulsing and throbbing as it tried to adjust to the size of the enormous thick cock that was thrusting into her. Her motions were also urgent and yet fluid as she kept panting and moaning. She had her eyes closed and her lips partly open as she responded to his violent fucking. Suddenly Choti started screaming and bucking hard against the thick hard cock that was ploughing into her soft young pussy. Her whole body was shaking with rigour as she slammed back stroke for stroke. Princess Sujata was shocked and so confused. This was so different to what she had seen during the tryst between Poonam and Arjun Singh. This was so violent and brutal. Yet she felt the heat and moisture between her royal thighs and was shocked by it. Her thoughts returned to the present as Dhool Chand suddenly pulled his big fat cock out of Chotti and turned her around and pushed the big swollen and glistening cock head into her small mouth. As he pumped is hips Dhool Chand started groaning and convulsing as he tightened his grip on the girl's hair. Chotti was again whimpering and moaning as if she was unable to breath. Dhool Chand began to shudder in his physical release and exploded into a wild roar as he thrust his thick cock for the last time into the young servant girl's mouth. He then seemed to slump a bit as he released his grip on the young girl's hair and his cock came out of her mouth. It was still hard and dripping its sticky juices. A big stream dropped on Chotti's lips and cheek. Chotti stepped back in relief as she started breathing heavily and got up from her knees. Her clothes were all rumpled and covered with dirt and hay. Her young small breasts were bare and bruised. She looked up at Dhool Chand with a half smile mixed with a heavy dose of fear and relief. Dhool Chand looked at her briefly and grunted his satisfaction as he rearranged his tunic and sword belt before walking out of the stable. Chotti also tidied herself up and went into the back room of the stable. Princess Sujata was still shocked and unable to move. Her legs were trembling and her insides were churning while here heart was racing at a pace a lot faster than when she killed the leopard that attacked her brother. Her thighs were feeling rather sticky & suddenly she realised with horror that her pussy had been dripping its juices very liberally and her knees were also wet. .........Princess Sujata was barely 18 years old when she saw this violent and brutal incident of pure lust....... As Rajah Sher Singh was measuring this young aristocratic girl, her thoughts had raced to that day in the stable. She suddenly felt panic as she wondered if she would be raped and brutalised by someone like Dhool Chand. Princess Sujata looked at the Rajah with apprehension and panic. Yet her pride and courage remained. Rajah Sher Singh was suddenly struck by the panic in her eyes and took his eyes away from the beautiful Princess Sujata (he was sure it was her) and scanned across the other women. "Who are the royal maids who attend to the Princess?" There was a gasp from all the women. Poonam's eyes flashed in horror and her pink lips opened in astonishment. She thought that now the Pricencess would surely be raped many times that night. The Rajah noticed this terrified expression and asked Poonam to step forward. He scanned the room and said "These women shall not be molested". The Rajah's Commander of the Royal Guards Amit Thakur and his soldiers were standing around him and acknowledged his order with bowed heads. The Rajah said to Poonam "You are in charge of the Princess and will fulfil your normal duties in caring for her. My people will be at her disposal for anything that the Princess needs." Princess Sujata looked at Rajah Sher Singh and her heart fluttered. He was a very handsome young man. If only they had met when her father was still on the throne, he might have won her favour to marry him! That was all a fantasy now! Princess Sujata then looked at Poonam and thought of the day at the stable more than a year ago. Poonam had been her maid companion for the last 13 years -- since the princess was5 years old. They had been companions and confidants while Poonam's mother Kamala was the princess's nanny. The princess and Poonam had been soul mates for the last 13 years. On that particular day they had returned from the normal horse riding routine, stabled the horses and parted company. The princess had gone to the orchard to look at the new spring mangos on the trees. She had gone for a walk and enjoyed the spring evening with the sound of birds singing and squirrels chattering. Time had passes quickly for the past hour and a half and it was time for the princess to have her daily bath. On her way home she walked past the stables and heard a soft sigh and rustling sound. Princess Sujata stepped quietly into the stable and hid behind a stall while she looked through the cracks into the hay stacks. She was surprised to see her young maid Poonam in the arms of a man in uniform. They were hugging and kissing passionately. Princess Sujata had never seen a man and a woman hug and kiss before. She also noticed that the man was the Commander of the Royal Guards Arjun Singh. Arjun Sing was the chief of her father's personal guards! He had his arms around Poonam and one palm was resting on her bum while the other was caressing her cheeks and neck. Poonam was clinging on to him like a creeper as they kissed passionately. Arjun Singh slowly moved his hand up to grasp Poonam's breasts and released them from her satin and silk clothes. Poonam was only a year older than the princess and her young breast were standing proud and the dark nipples were swollen and erect. The soft firm breasts were like ripe mangos in spring and the nipples were proud like the stalks for a freshly picked mango fruit. Arjun Singh started to lick, kiss and suck on the two breast and nipples and Poonam started to moan and grind her breasts into his face and hairy dark chest. The pricess could see that Poonam's breasts were really firm and yet soft and creamy. Her hands were also moving in front of Arjun Singh's tunic as she slowly released his erect cock from the uniform. Princess Sujata was stunned to see such a huge erection. She had never seen a man's erect cock before. She had seen the horses in the stables of course. But this was somehow much more intriguing and amazing. Arjun Singh smiled lovingly at Poonam as she shyly kissed him as she caressed his hard cock. Her dainty young hands could barely wrap around his throbbing prick as she gently but firmly stroked him. Poonam slowly undressed Arjun Singh while he undressed her and they spread their clothes on the hay and sat down. They continued to kiss passionately and then Arjun Singh gently pushed Poonam down on to the hay bed and started kissing and licking her breasts and stomach. His movements slowly went down towards her pale smooth thighs and he parted them as he continued to kiss her dusky soft skin. As he parted her thighs Princess Sujata could see that Poonam's cunt was plump and swollen. The pubic hair was tidily trimmed and her pussy lips were looking moist and the pink inner parts were just visible in contrast to the dusky complexion and the dark tones of Poonam's pussy lips. The princess could feel her own juices start to flow between her thighs as Arjun Sing continued to kiss Poonam's inner thighs and then he gently started to kiss and lick her pussy lips. Poonam had her fingers intertwined in his hair and was whimpering with pleasure as Arjun Singh started to dart his tongue into her pussy gently. His movements were so slow and gentle and yet urgent. His hands were caressing Poonam's breasts as he continued to lick and kiss her pussy. Poonam was now fully aroused as she stared to raise her hips to meet his face in a slow rhythm as she continued to sigh and whimper. Arjun Singh was on his knees and his hard cock was throbbing up and down while he was licking and kissing Poonam's pussy. The Pricess was awe struck by this incredible sight as her inner guts and heart and brain were racing at a million miles. Arjun Sing then started to part Poonam's pussy lips and expose the pink inside part of her cunt. The blue-green veins of Poonam's young wet pussy were now visible as he began to lick the insides of her pussy and stroke the upper top end. This seemed to send a jolt into Poonam as she bucked vigorously and let out a deep whimpering moan. Arjun Singh seemed to take a subtly more assertive role now as he started to concentrate on this top part of Poonam's pussy and Poonam started grunting and moaning as she continued to buck her hips into his face. This incredibly arousing scene forced the princess to sit down as her legs seemed to become jelly. She could hear the wet sound from Arjun Singh's lips as they mashed into Poonam's bucking groin. Poonam suddenly started to wail and pant with much more urgency and reached a crescendo of gurgling grunts and whimpers as she held on to him in violent shudders and slowly she seemed to relax a bit. Poonams hands were still entwined in Arjun Singh's hair but her thighs had relaxed and her head lay on the hay bed while she had a glowing smile on her face as she pulled his face to her and stared kissing him tenderly and passionately. Their lips were mashed in sweet union while his hairy chest leaned gently on her firm and luscious breasts. Poonam was kissing and nibbling on his ears with a glow on her face. Her pink tongue dated into his ears and she whispered to him. The princess could not hear what she said but Arjun Sing smiled and gently raised himself on his elbow and positioned his throbbing cock between Poonams smooth soft and firm thighs. The red knob of his erect tool was shining and looked moist. It looked so powerful and seemed to have a life of its own as it twitched up and down. Poonam reached her small had and grasper the big cock and gently lead it to her moist and swollen pussy. She placed the red helmet of her lover's phallus between her pussy lips and reached to his neck with her other hand. Her hips seemed to rise up a bit as he leaned into her. The princess was mesmerised as he saw the young warrior's sex organ began to sink slowly into the cunt of her chamber maid. Poonam's cunt seemed to just stretch and open up as she started to moan again. Arjun Singh stopped his thrust and held his position while Poonam clung on to him as her hips trembled. Her eyes were glazed and her face flushed like she seemed to have a high fever. But she did not look ill at all. In fact she started to smile again and kissed her lover passionately as he withdrew his cock. Poonam gasped in a seemingly disappointed tone as her forehead had a furrow like she was frowning. Arjun Singh's cock head was now just inside her swollen wet pussy and he gently but firmly thrust forward again. Poonam gasped as she raised her hips to meet him. His cock seemed to go almost half way in as Poonam again whimpered and moaned. Arjun Singh was smiling tenderly at her as he stroked her breasts with one hand and touched her face lovingly. He gently withdrew his hard throbbing cock and the same reaction was noticeable on Poonam's face. But her expression quickly changed to ecstasy as he thrust his hard member into her swollen cunt. This time it seemed to go in a lot more and Poonam was humping her hips to encourage her lover. Her legs were wrapped firmly around his waist as he started to stroke his cock out and in again. Very soon he was fully buried deep inside Poonam's wet cunt. Some juices had started to drip out between her thighs. Arjun Singh's big cock was moving to a rhythm and it was shining with her juices as its veins popped out. As his cock seemed to almost come out, Poonam's pussy lips seemed to stretch and open out. The pink inner layer seemed to fold out and then disappear as he pushed his hard cock into her again. The couple settled into a slow rhythm as she whimpered and panted while he also started to pant and occasionally grunt. His thrusts also became more urgent and his thighs started to bump against Poonam's groin and this made a slapping noise which seemed to help them keep beat. Their movements were urgent and passionate and yet so smooth and harmonised. The princess also noticed that Arjun Singh's balls were slapping the bottom of Poonam's pussy as she thrust her hips to him stroke for stroke. Poonam's ripe breasts were also swinging to their motions and her erect nipples were brushing against his hairy chest. Arjun Singh's powerful body was now covered in sweat as his dark skin rippled with muscles. The princess had lost all sense of time and was in a trance as she squeezed her thighs. Her stomach churned and her heart raced while her head pounded at the incredible sight that was raising emotions in her that she had never imagined. Arjun Sing's sweat was starting to drip on Poonam's soft skin as he fucked her firmly. Poonam was also covered in a fine mist of moisture as she whimpered and moaned. Her eyes would shut and her soft lips would open partially as she gasped. Then her eyes would open and look at her lover as he continued to thrust his hard cock into her tight young pussy. Poonam seemed to raise the tempo as she started grunting and moaning more often and her sounds were becoming more urgent. She once again started to wail and shudder as she clung on to Arjun Singh. She seemed almost in pain and yet she was thrusting her bottom up to him stroke for stroke and shuddering uncontrollably. Now Arjun Singh also started to moan and thrust hard. The slapping noises of his hard flesh against her feminine softness were getting louder and faster. He was grunting with each stroke while she continued to whimper, moan and gurgle while tossing her head from side to side. Passions and Battles - 321 BC She seemed to try to say something but her words were incorrigible. Suddenly Poonam started to shudder again in violent thrusts as her hips bucked to Arjun Singh's powerful strokes. Poonam's pussy was now leaking its juices like a flood. The sounds of their bodies slapping together was now mingled with the wet sounds of his thick hard cock moving in and out of her plump wet pussy. Arjun Singh seemed to increase his speed of thrusting while he was leaning more of his weight on Poonam. The young girl did not seem to notice this as she slowly recovered from her last violent convulsions and started moving to his rhythm. She was now pressing her breasts hard against his chest as he seemed to crush her with his weight. She just seemed to submit to his passions as he kept fucking her harder and harder. Her whimpers and moans were a bit softer but her body was still responding passionately to him. They continued like this for a few minutes and Poonam once again stared to moan and whimper loudly. Her body started to buck more violently and her face started to get an intense expression of grimaces and flushed passion. This time her eruption was much more violent as she started to dig her finger nails into her lover's shoulders as he thrust even harder into her red wet cunt. Arjun Singh's thrusts were getting shorter and his grunts were louder as he banged his hard cock into her swollen pussy. His body started to shudder and tremble as Poonam convulsions went up a level. They were now both bucking violently against each other. It seemed as if they would buck off each other and yet they clung on desperately. The incredible scene reached a crescendo as they both grunted and almost screamed together as their bodies trembled against each other. Their thrust had stopped as they clung on passionately to each other with his cock buried deep into her pussy. The princess could see the juices of their union slowly drip out. She could also see the distinct spasms of Poonam's cunt lips as they kept squeezing her lovers thick cock. The couple were still entwined in a deep gentle and prolonged kiss. Their bodies seemed to just move in a fluid motion like flags in the breeze. It was so much calmer and relaxed compared to the passionate waves breaking in a high storm just a while ago. Slowly Arjun Singh raised his hips and his cock came out of Poonam's cunt along with a thick sticky steam of their juices. His cock looked limp and much smaller. The princess had only seen little boys in such a state before. The princess realised that her thighs were soaking wet from her own juices that had been flowing while she watched this incredible scene. Her clothes were also soaked in spots and she had better go to her quarters and get ready for her bath. Poonam would be looking for her soon to attend to her duties. Princess Sujata was shaken out of this recollection as she once again felt the gaze of Rajah Sher Singh on her. Their eyes met and seemed to cling to each other and search each other's inner most being. Her heart started to hammer in her chest as the conquering king looked at her in honest and bold admiration. His expression was not that of a conquering master. There was no arrogance or haughtiness in him. His handsome face and regal posture were contrasted by his gentle and inquiring gaze that she could not avoid. She could feel the blood rise to her face in self-conscious embarrassment when the king saved her dignity by moving away. Poonam had come beside her accompanied by Arthi the assistant chamber maid. Poonam's mother Kamala was also there to accompany the Queen Mother. Rajah Sher Singh walked to the men's wing. He did not use the king's quarters but one of the others. He was deep in thought. He needed to quickly make new alliances among the Nakira clans. He realised that he was smitten by the princess Sujata. It would be perfect to marry her. But he would have to win her heart. Only then will the Nakiras swear absolute loyalty to him and be happy as allies. He knew that honouring the women and saving their dignity would go a long way too. The dull and depressive mood after the thrill of battle was making him so restless. The thought of Princess Sujata was also making his heart race. It would have been really good to have sex with his own palace chamber maids who had been his harem for the last 4 years since he had turned 18. His passions started to churn inside him in frustration as he thought of the beautiful women in his own palace. He thought back to his initiation ritual as an 18 year old - 4 years ago. After the temple ceremony he had been taken to the men's wing with his own chambers. There he had been presented with 3 virgins who would become the temple Apsaras. It was his royal duty to deflower them and also lose his own virginity. Royal protocol demanded that he did not use their real names but only addressed them by their new names as Apsaras. They were all stunningly beautiful girls. They were the daughters of the older Apsaras who served the temple and the aristocratic men on special occasions. They were well educated and trained in impeccable manners. As 18 year old virgins, they were innocent. But they were also fully versed in their predestined roles as "celestial mistresses" of the temple patrons. It was an honour for them to be deflowered by the Crown Prince as his first sexual experience. The three girls had bowed to him and taken over the chamber. One of them approached him with a cup of pomegranate juice which was supposed to be an aphrodisiac when mixed with myrh. He looked at her shyly and she suppressed a giggle. The second girl brought him a bowl of warm water and a towel. It was obviously mixed with fragrant oils as she squatted at his feet and began to wash and wipe his feet. The third girl had come behind him and waved some incense over his head as a blessing. The first girl then approached him and asked if she could take his upper tunic and massage him. They were all very shy and he found the whole experience a bit funny too. But he also realised that the 3 virgin Apsaras were very beautiful. They were dressed for the occasion with white silks and god thread embroidery. Delicate gold jewellery was contrasted with pearls and jasmine flowers. They were pure virgins for his pleasure. Their upper bodies were only partially clad in silks and satin. Their breasts were covered so that the nipples could not be seen but the subtle curves were visible from the sides. One girl who was slim, had nubile small breasts while the tall one had nice well developed breasts that would make a 21 year old proud. The thirds girl was shorter and a bit rounder and she had large ample breasts that were struggling to be restrained by her skimpy clothes. The three girls then approached him and took him by the hands and one of them was behind him gently touching his bare back with her palms as they guided him to a big pool of cool water covered with rose petals. As they all got into the pool and their clothes got wet, the prince could see the luscious breasts of the 3 virgins as they began to wash him with their hands. They were shy and reserved as he also started to touch them and wash them. He could feel his groin stir as he could see the tender young breasts under the wet clothes. The tall girl's firm boobs were now poking their nipples through the fabric while she leaned over him removed his lower garments. He was now completely naked and he started to undress the girls as they giggled and laughed in shy anticipation. He splashed the slim petite girl and she splashed him back. The other two girls also started splashing the prince. The innocent games helped them to relax and soon they were touching each others' arms and clinging to his back and enveloping him with their arms as their young virgin breasts pressed on him. Prince Sher Singh's erect penis was also constantly in the way of these embraces and playful cuddles, frequently bumping into one girls thigh, bottom or stomach as they embraced him playfully. The girls were also intrigued by the sight of a boy with an erect penis that was like a man's. He was not sure how it started but he was suddenly kissing the buxom girl on one arm and then the slim petite girl on the other while the tall stately beauty was caressing his back and shoulders while kissing his cheeks and throat. He then moved his hands to the breasts of the two girls on his arms when the tall girl came in front and gently pushed his face towards her exquisite breasts which were proudly standing up offering to his lips. They quickly got out of the pool and wiped each other dry as they continued to kiss him and caress him while he just let himself enjoy the carnal pleasures of playing with 3 willing and happy virgins. He slowly picked up the courage to feel between the legs of the buxom girl and felt her thighs part shyly. He touched her pussy lips and felt the sparse mat of pubic hair surround the plump lips. The girl squirmed in innocent arousal as he gasped. He touched her pussy lips and they are swollen and moist and they reluctantly parted to his gentle and inexperienced touch. He felt the whiff of her womanly smell fill the room as he gently ran a finger along the cunt lips. The tall girl now was on his arms and kissing his lips and they were slowly exploring the thrills of this unique experience as their lips parted and their tongues explored each other. The slim petite girl was stroking his cock gently with awe and excitement. Her first cock and it was the Crown Prince. She remembered the training sessions the senior Apsaras had given the virgins. They each had to lubricate the prince with their lips before he could deflower them. So she squatted down and positioned herself in front of the crown prince's erect cock. It was strong and hard to the touch and yet like velvet. It throbbed in her gentle grip and made her insides stir. She stroked it gently and the red helmet slipped out of the foreskin and the cleft seemed to be like an eye looking at her and challenging her. The slim girl leaned forward and softly kissed his cock head and felt it throb suddenly out of her lips as it smeared its moisture on her cheek and nose. The crown prince was surprised to feel the first female lips on his virgin cock. The surprise and pleasure had drawn the involuntary throb and the moisture smeared on the girl's face was suddenly a funny sight that allowed the four of them to move to more intimate play. The tall girl with stately breasts then knelt down and took his cock in her hand as she also shyly took the knob between her virgin lips and gave it a prolonged and gentle kiss as she also ran her inexperienced tongue over the bell shaped head. She was thrilled with the feeling of his cock throbbing in her mouth as he gently thrust his hips towards her mouth in an instinctive reaction. The crown prince felt his heart racing as he was being swept into new realms of sexual adventure that he had never dreamed of. The buxom girl was now on her knees as she first took her ample boobs up to the virgin cock and smothered it in the folds of her tits and as the cock head emerged from her cleavage she bent over and gave it a succulent kiss. The prince could not help himself as he gently held her head and thrust his hips at her tits and face as he sighed a deep sigh of ecstasy. The four young people continued to explore and fondle each other. The girls found it so comfortable to fondle each others breasts and kiss each others lips as they competed for the honour of making oral love to the royal cock. The prince was just ecstatic with lust at watching the three girls suck and lick his erect and throbbing cock. He started to get curious and began slowly kissing and licking the tall girl's breasts, stomach and thighs until he reached her young and swollen pussy. He very gently kissed the pussy mound and then the lips. The tall girl sighed and shuddered. The prince was encouraged by her reactions and kissed her pussy more boldly and probed it with his tongue. He was surprised by the tangy and slippery juices that flowed from her and how easily his tongue entered her cunt. He felt the girl's hips rise to meet his face and he could hear her whimper between her gasps. The prince suddenly felt a huge emotional surge of manhood thump in his chest. His cock throbbed as he realised that he was actually pleasing this virgin girl. He continued to lick and suck on the firm bud at the top of her virgin pussy and she started wailing and bucking her loins into his face as she erupted in a lusty orgasm. Her juices flowed and he lapped them up with delight. His heart was pounding and his cock throbbing as he realised that he had just pleased a woman sexually for the first time. The prince then moved over to the slim girl who had been caressing his hard cock and balls while the buxom girl had been licking his shaft. The slim girl was suddenly shy as she lay down submissively. The prince then gently pulled the buxom girl to kneel over the slim girl. Now he had a great view of two exquisite cunts in front of him. The slim girl's pussy mound was puffed up and the lips were swollen and the labia were small. Her juices had seeped out and were shining an invitation to the prince. The buxom girl's pussy lips were also swollen but much more plump and prominent. The labia were buried in the cunt lips and the moisture was seeping along the edges too. The prince leaned forward and kissed the slim girl's pussy and then gave it a prolonged kiss with his probing tongue. The girl yelped with surprise and gave a deep moaning sigh. He then switched to the pump pussy and probed his tongue into it and immediately found her swollen bud at the top and licked it gently with the tip of his tongue. The plum girl slammed her ample bum into the prince's face as she felt a shock go through her body and set her cunt on fire. The prince was suddenly besotted by the plump girl's juicy dripping pussy and kept probing the bud with his tongue as she wailed and moaned. The prince continued to probe with his tongue and the buxom girl kept bucking and slamming her bum into his face as she exploded into a wild and lusty release while screaming in delight. He juices suddenly squirt out of cunt and hit the prince on his chin and lower lips. He happily lapped the juices up as he thrived on the experience of having pleased this girt too. The buxom girl rolled off to the side and now the prince paid total attention to the slim girl's pussy in front of him. This was a firm and seductive cunt. The paler complexion of this girl gave the ivory coloured skin a glowing appearance and he could not resist kissing it passionately like he would kiss her lips. His tongue darted into the soft firm cunt lips with urgency and strength. He was getting bolder now that he had satiated two virgins with his mouth and attacked this third one with a bit more vigour and yet with gentleness and wonder. The girls willing response as she thrust her hips to meet his tongue was an additional stimulus as the prince used his tongue to explore this young and exciting cunt. Her taste was more delicate and less sharp and yet it was so feminine. He was totally drunk with the lusty smells and tastes of the three virgin pussies. Now he focussed on the firm and erect bud at the top of her pussy as he realised that the girls were most stimulated by such attention. The slim girl suddenly put her hands on the price's head and held him firmly while she bucked her hips into his face. Her whimpers, moans and grunts grew more prolonged and louder and the prince lapped her pussy with gusto. The girl suddenly shrieked and erupted in climax as her thighs shuddered and her stomach muscles rippled in violent orgasm. The prince continued to lick and lap up the hot juices that flowed from her pussy and savoured the firm but soft texture of her pussy. The price sat up and looked at the girls with a beaming smile on his face as they blushed and radiated passionate delight that his royal highness had pleasured them so. The tall girl now moved next to him and kissed him on his lips with a deep and probing kiss as she coaxed him into her arms. She embraced him and caressed his shoulders, back and bum while she ground her proud and firm breasts into his muscular chest. The prince responded by kissing her passionately and breathing in her feminine smells mingled with the perfumes and her luscious beauty. He moved his hands over her curves and felt the hot skin of her back and her firm but cheeks. He suddenly thrust his legs into her as she also wound her thighs around him. His throbbing hard cock was sandwiched against her firm stomach as he leaned forward and started kissing and nibbling on her stunning tits. The girl ground her dusky bosom into his face as she moaned with anticipation. She suddenly felt the prince lift her thigh and gently probe her pussy. She suddenly realised that it was the hard and throbbing royal phallus that was seeking to enter her virgin nether lips. The two innocent young people seemed to find the right angles by instinct as the prince slowly entered the moist and swollen pussy with his pulsing royal phallus, and drew a deep gasp from the tall girl. She gazed into his face with passion and desire as she held firmly on to his shoulders and raised her hips to give him greater access to deflower her. The prince smiled tenderly at the tall virgin and kissed her ruby lips as he increased the pressure from his loins and felt his cock sink slowly into her tight, wet and hot virgin pussy. He could feel his member throb and probe with urgency and he could also feel the muscular resistance of the virgin cunt while it also seemed to have its own will to wrap around his cock and gently squeeze it. The prince withdrew his hips and thrust forward more urgently and half his cock was now buried in the exquisite hot box. The tall girl now moaned with ecstasy and a bit of pain as she thrust her hips up and then gasped in pain. The prince realised that he was about to deflower her and a sudden urge made him thrust forcefully to break through the barrier and enter her wonderfully hot tight pussy. He waited a few seconds to see if the tall girl was hurt but was delighted to see that she was glowing with pleasure and beaming at him as she clung on to his hips and thrust her own hips to meet him and tried to draw his hard cock even deeper into her. Her cunt was pulsing and squeezing as it adjusted to the very new sensation of his throbbing velvet pole of royal meat inside her. Another firm push had him fully buried in her pussy and she whimpered with delight. The tall girls pussy continued to pulse and squeeze the prince's cock as it began to lubricate. The prince withdrew his phallus and this produced a sigh of disappointment from the girl as the cock head reached the end of her vagina but this was quickly replaced by a squeal of delight as he thrust his cock back in. He seemed to feel less resistance and yet it was so snug and erotically pulsing around his throbbing rod. He repeated the stroke gently once more and looked at the face of the girl and noticed total blissfulness in her expression as she closed her eyes and partially opened her lips. Her seductive beauty was irresistible and the prince leaned forward and kissed her long and with passion as he continued to slowly withdraw his cock and thrust it back in. She raised he firm hips to meet his thrust and they soon establishes a slow and gentle rhythm. The passion and desire was also boiling between the two and the prince could feel the rush building up in his inner being as he increased the speed and force of this thrusts. The tall girl as also being overtaken by passion and lust as she thrust back had at him. The last stroke seemed to hit a magical spot inside her pussy and she gave out a prolonged wail as she shuddered with excitement. Her thighs and stomach tightened as the prince continued to plunge his royal cock into her very recently virgin pussy. Her pussy seemed to pulse even stronger and clung to his cock, not wanting to let go. Her shudders increased to a series of violent eruptions as she wailed and grunted uncontrollably and thrust her groin up to him with all her strength and coiled her thighs tightly around his hips as he now pounded firmly into her pulsing pussy. Passions and Battles - 321 BC The prince also felt his wave of rolling fire and thunder inside his loins that made him thrust harder and deeper into her clasping pussy as he also exploded with her in a tumultuous orgasm that seemed to prolong and crash wave after wave as they ground their loins into each other with total abandon. As the waves abated the prince could smell the delicate feminine smell of her sweat and the stunning beauty of the tall girl as she gazed into his face with vulnerable adoration. He could still feel her pussy clasping & pulsing around his cock and it seemed to want to keep him inside her. He instinctively leaned forward and kissed her lips with passion and appreciation as he gently stroked her cheeks. She smiled at him adoringly and squeezed his hips with her thighs as if to say that she wanted him to stay inside her. He could feel his cock throb gently and enjoy the pulsing clasps of her amazing young pussy. He gently leaned to the side and rolled his sweat covered body to the side and his cock slipped out of her pussy along with a long stream of the sticky juices they had both ejaculated. His cock had lost its former rigidity and was now a bit flaccid as he lay on his back. The tall girl rolled over to his side and wrapped him with her arms and her thigh and nuzzled her wonderful firm tits into his chest as they share another intimate kiss. The other two girls where flushed with desire and lust as they waited to see whom the prince would choose to shower his affection on next. The buxom girl was lying next to the tall girl and gently stoking her curves and her hair while the slim girl was lying next to the prince and massaging his shoulders while pressing her body against his back. The king thought back to the rest of that night when he lost his virginity and had the pleasure of deflowering 3 beautiful and exquisite virgins. The experience with the other two girls had also been very exciting and passionate. Each had been different and varied. The slim girl had been so gentle and delicate while very sensuous. The buxom girl had been most passionate and physically responsive. They had taken turns to arouse the price again after his time with the tall beauty. He had been sandwiched between the two girls and pampered by them as they vied for his attention. The buxom girl had been so bold that she had taken him over and treated him to a most erotic and explosive tryst that culminated in a second amazing orgasm of the night for the prince. The girl herself seemed to be so full of lust and passion that she seemed to erupt again and again while bucking vigorously to the prince's thrusts. The slim girl had then moved gently to the prince's side and shyly cuddled up to him. She was so gentle and tender in the way she touched him and felt his strong muscular youth. She just enjoyed his closeness and she smelled the musky sweat from the prince. Her own arousal was uncontrollable but she remembered what the senior Apsaras had told her. It was her duty to please the prince and that she had to be very patient. She just nuzzled up to the prince and kissed him gently as her hands felt his thighs, bum and back. She gently thrust her small breasts into the prince's chest and gasped at the pleasure of his masculine strength rubbing against her tender young breasts. The prince was half asleep after his second romp and yet his hand had come to rest on her hips and gently held her bum. She continued to kiss the price on his face and neck and chest as she wrapped her slim young thighs around him. Once again she sighed with pleasure as she felt his muscles. She gently moved her hand to caress the prince's neck and hair as she pushed her breasts into his face with the hope that he would make love to her aroused nipples. She sighed once again with pleasure when she felt the prince nuzzle her tits firmly and sleepily take one nipple between his lips. He was not fully awake and yet he was responding to her shy and gentle love making. Her heart raced as her passions burned in her loins. She had been in bed with the prince for hours and waited while he deflowered the other two girls and it was now her turn but she still had to wait! She grew a little bold and reached with the hand towards the prince's groin. Her small young fingers searched for the royal phallus and found it shrunk and flaccid. It was so wrinkled and like velvet to her touch. His balls were so much firmer and yet very wrinkled. She suddenly felt his scrotum move in her grasp. She squeezed it gently and shivered with excitement and anticipation combined with frustration. She thrust her boobs into his face with uncontrollable desire and felt him nuzzle and suck her nipple sleepily. She also felt him move a bit and extend his muscular thigh between her legs as she fondled his groin. She once again reached for his cock and looked down in surprise to see that it was no longer small & wrinkled but starting to regain its former grand stature. She gripped it with excitement and it pulsed in her grasp and seemed to gain a life of its own. The prince sighed and nuzzled her tits and he continued to suck her nipple sleepily. The slim girl decided that she would just continue to arouse the prince in the hope that he will soon wake up and make love to her. She began to stroke his semi erect cock and was delighted to see the response and it was soon erect and firm in her grasp. She could now feel the familiar throbbing pulse from his erect phallus and she had this sudden urge to move down and take it between her soft young lips as she had done earlier in the night. She was now so horny that she kissed and licked his cock head with gentle passion. Her delicate nature made her prolong her oral strokes though they were so gentle and innocent. She explored his cock head slowly with her tongue and followed the ridge of the helmet. She them ran her tongue along the cleft of the cock and probed it gently. The prince moaned and stirred in his slumber as he moved one hand to hold her head gently. She continued her oral ministering on the royal phallus and was rewarded with gentle stirring and the occasional thrust while the prince ruffled her hair. She suddenly heard him groan and stir as he woke up and gently pulled her shoulders to him. He smile tenderly at her and kissed her passionately, sending her passion soaring uncontrollable. She wrapped herself around him with her gentle strength and delicate urgency as he kissed her and moved lower to kiss her breasts and then between her thighs to her smouldering wet pussy. His hot lips searched for her swollen wet pussy and licked the lips until it found her swollen clit. Her passion and desire had reached such a height that the touch of his tongue on her clit sent off a deep rumble in her guts and her thighs shuddered and she bucked her hips slowly into his mouth. This just sent her into uncontrollable shudders of lust as her juices erupted from her delicate pussy into the price's lips. He held on to her as he continued to lick her cunt and lap up her hot juices. He was amazed at the feminine delicacy of her thighs and yet they had a unique type of strength. He lingered around her groin as he kissed and licked her thighs, stomach and belly button. He slowly looked up into her face and smiled with approval and basked in her radiant gaze as she adored her handsome price who would soon deflower her. The prince was now fully aroused and eager to male love to this exquisitely gentle and feminine girl who had aroused him back to sexual desire and turgid erection. He continued to kiss her passionately, probing her lips with his tongue and enjoying her delicate innocence while he instinctively directed his pulsing and throbbing cock at her soft swollen pussy. The union of the two nether organs seemed to be mystical as his cock head slowly parted her cunt lips and the helmet waited at the very edge of her vagina. The prince could feel a bit of resistance from the virgin pussy and also eagerness from the girl as she tried to lift her hips to him in submission. Her eyes shone with desire and adoration as she responded to his kisses. The prince could not control his desire any further as he was overwhelmed by her delicate feminine beauty and innocent seduction. He thrust firmly and ploughed his turgid cock into the willing but resistant pussy of the slim girl. She wailed in excitement and pain as she lifted her hips to meet his thrust and held on to his shoulders with a mixture of surging desire and a bit of fear. The prince had relaxed and started to kiss her gently and nuzzle face with intimate reassurance as he started to withdraw his groin and then thrust it forward. The intense pleasure of sexual liberation was so immense that she almost swooned. Her senses were now in limbo as she felt the royal penis penetrate her fully and impale her with its masculine grandeur. Her pussy seemed to have a life of its own as it throbbed and pulsed around this hard phallus buried itself into her most intimate depths. She bucked her hips and wrapped her thighs around the prince as she whimpered and moaned with uncontrollable pleasure. The pulsing throb of the hard cock seemed to rouse sensations in every part of her body as the prince started to slowly and gently withdraw and thrust again. He seemed to instinctively recognise the delicate and gentle nature of this girl and made love to her in a gentle but firm rhythm as he enjoyed the seductive feminine charms that his beautiful girl offered him. He somehow felt the need to control his surging lusts and be gentle with this girl. He thrust with firm pressure but looked for subtle changes in angels as he looked at her face and wondered at the sensuous expression they took on with each movement from him. He was completely besotted by the changes in expression on face as he slowly continued to thrust his cock into her tight pussy. He could feel her lubricating juices flow as his cock thrust into her dainty and yet pulsing cunt. He sensed a change in her manner has her moans and whimpers changed to deeper groans and her grip on her shoulder seemed to take on a firmer clasp as her nails bit into his skin. She was bucking her hips up to him more urgently and yet in her typical delicate and sensitive manner. He could feel her pussy clasp his cock firmly and gently as it seemed to squeeze him to hold on and not let it go as he withdrew it for the next thrust. Each attempt to change the angle a bit and try to reach different part of her inner feminine sex yielded more urgent and passionate groans from her. Her gasps became more urgent as he thrust a bit more firmly into her. She suddenly seemed to go taut and rigid as her whole body began to shudder and then explode in a flowing and cascading orgasm that with really heart warming to watch. He was delighted with her feminine sensuality and he thrust his cock once more into her and exploded his own seed into her with restrained passion that was yet very satisfying and rewarding. The prince held his position with his cock buried deep into the slim girl's pussy as he savoured this wonderful experience. He could still feel her cunt muscles gently squeeze his cock and milking him of the last drops of his ejaculation while she clung on to him dearly and sighed with ecstasy. He gazed into her deep brown eyes and smiled his appreciation as he passionately kissed her with tenderness and urgency. The prince could suddenly feel the other two girls embrace them gently and giggle with appreciation as they shared in this erotic adventure. To be continued Passions And Fears Are Contagious Passions And Fears Are Contagious and saying all this to Jan left me stunned and silent but not before I added ...."and there is so much more I could tell you". Jan stared at me, with her arms tight around my neck, her face inches from mine. Rick, tell me everything you would do if we could and I will tell you what I can imagine, what I do with me next to you. I will tell you everything leaving no secrets behind." "Jan, are you sure you want me, us, to go on saying how we would make love to each other so slowly that we might lose our minds on the way? Another thing. Should we leave some things unsaid so that we can surprise each other later, if we were to go on along this path to ....?" Jan smiled, and whispered in my ear "let me try and guess some of the things you want to tell me, things I want you to do, and I will also tell you about my, yes, frenzied longing, and I mean how frantic I am this very moment, and how I would not know how to stop my words from driving my need to touch and devour you in so many ways" all the while between words her tongue filled my ear with her seductive song. " "Rick, don't you know how much I need you to know how wet I am hearing you tell me what you would do? I can imagine for you slowly stroking the inside of my knee and my thigh, yes, I want you to slowly move your hand up where you could feel my warmth, the wetness between my legs, and then you would want to touch my soaked panties, and they would be drenched because of you, your words, your promises of what you would do, and I would have to swallow my scream, the gagged words asking, begging you to touch me, to touch my wetness, to feel your fingers struggling to reach inside my panties, and then I know I would be moaning, no screaming, as your fingers moved up and down the lips of my vagina, and I would want to push your hand and fingers so that they moved inside me and then I would push your hands so that they might move around my clit, first in slow strokes and then faster and harder, and I would beg you to move your fingers hard and fast, and at the same time my hand would be on the zipper of your pants, wanting to take out your cock, yes your cock, not penis, not prick, your cock, yours in my hands, hard, trapped" You would tell me how my wetness and heat between my legs would feel to you and I would slow us down by telling you all about what I feel, each moment that your hand moves softly, or firmly, and I could see your hand beneath my skirt, and ...." Jan asked me, "Should I tell you what my panties look like? Do you want to see them? Do you want to taste the wetness? Do you want to pull them down, slowly? Do you want me to help you do that? " And I answered, "They are black and very snug and very wet" and I reached down and slowly moved my hands up Jan's skirt as she looked right at me, stared at me with half closed eyes. "Rick, they are white panties and they are all wet because of you but you can feel that, all of that and if you can reach underneath you can find where all the moisture is coming from" And so I felt her moist lips and at the same time pushed my tongue in her ear and told her that I needed to taste her on wetness on my fingers and she replied, "Rick, put your fingers all the way inside me and move them just like you imagined you would and rub my clit with your wet fingers and let us both taste me. Let me take your hand, like this and lift your fingers first to your lips and then to mine and then we can taste each other's tongues together." I cherished each moment, the feel of the hair around her pussy, the soft yielding lips and as I fingers entered her it was I who gasped and muffled the sound against her lips, and minutes later I was transported to a new place in my mind, with Jan, as she sucked my fingers dry, and then put her hand on my pants. "So many times, so often, when we were together, I thought I could see your hardness, and now I can feel what I imagined was so. I love it that you seem to be get harder by the moment as I stroke your cock, and do you want me to call it your prick?" "Jan, yes I want you to call it my cock, ours, and I can imagine you pulling down the zipper of my pants, and slowly, very slowly, inching my cock out while stroking it at the same time. And I would tell you to open the belt my pants, pull my trousers down past my cock, and at the same time you would drag my shorts down and touch me, stroke my cock that is by now so hard it would be burst its own skin, and then I can imagine you moving your head down to look at it closer and closer and then you would open your mouth and barely touch the tip of my prick, no we agreed, my cock, with your tongue, and you would twirl it around the crown of my cock and then slowly you would lower your wet mouth down, further and further and then you would let my cock fall free and then you would lunge down on my cock, my prick, my staff, and I could barely suppress a scream. And you would continue to move up and down with your mouth and tongue looking at me at the same time, seeing my eyes that were by now feverish with the desire to, yes, I would want to fuck you and suck you and crush your body all at the same time and I would be besides myself and .... Jan stopped me to tell me what she felt at that moment. "Rick, I would want you to explode in my mouth. I want to taste every last drop of you cum with nothing left behind. I want you to then slowly kiss me all over, slowly moving around, sucking my toes, all of me, suckling at my breasts and at the same time feeling all of me between my legs, and then I want your kisses to slowly move back down to my legs and I want you to lift my skirt and take it off along with my bra and I want your tongue to leave a trail of wet delight down to my pubic hairs, I want to pull the hairs into your mouth, and I want you to tease me, sniff all of me around my thighs and I want you to nibble at the inside of my thighs and I would push your head higher so that you were at the door of my pussy and I would tell you, plead with you, to put your mouth into the wetness of my pussy and I want you to put your tongue at the entrance to my pussy, teasing, slowly at first but then pushing, twirling the tip all about and I want your tongue inside my pussy, pushing far inside of me and I want you to keep moving your tongue all over my pussy and then you will move the tip of your tongue onto my throbbing clit and you will play with it, tease it, and then suck on it hard and my body would thrash about, I know it would, and you would try and hold me down as I arched up but the screams would erupt and all of me would come all over your face and then, then, I would grow still, exhausted, smiling to match your own smile". What could I say? I was dizzy with the emotions that have been peeled back and exposed and here we were. "Jan, I imagined the same scene just as you described it makes my words pale, colorless in comparison, my imagination is even more on fire because if your imaginings, from what you wanted and not just what I had hoped you might want. Could you imagine lying still holding each other and then could you picture our excitement building once again. Could you imagine your hand on my cock, slowly guiding it towards your pussy, slowly moving me so that the head of my cock was barely at the door of your pussy and could you imagine, rubbing the tip of my cock back and forth across your pussy lips, your clit, slowly having each of us move so that my cock slips into your pussy, in further and further, and as that happens it becomes harder yet, to push on all of me in you, ready to explode and both of us won't let that happen, right?, not right away, not for some time and.... Jan, should we let this happen? Can we stop here, just with words and the scent of your wetness and my hard cock screaming? They both sat there, silent, together and yet alone. Alone in their own thoughts about their lives, their spouses, children, friends. Rick could picture the horror that would result from Rick telling his wife Sue about an affair that he did not want to end. He could hear his kids crying as his wife sat in the living with tears filling her eyes and then the anger that followed was vividly etched in his mind's eye. Passions And Fears Are Contagious Lisa cupped Sue's hand in her own and whispered, "You did say it and I think it was how you felt and as uncomfortable as the feeling of being stuck adrift and perhaps alone, what I also sense is that you are not helpless. You have it in you to move dramatically to places that will allow you to soar above desert and to new places. Feeling helpless when we have all sorts of resources is often just what we needed." Lisa leaned over and hugged Sue and then kissed her on the forehead. Sue was touched by Lisa's tender support and she just sat there and glanced around the garden and then stared at Lisa who simply smiled in response. The light in the garden was slowly disappearing, none of the ice remained in their cocktails and the cheese, crackers, olives, had hardly been touched. "Lisa what about you and Sandy? What are your life stories, I guess the cliff note version of your biographies. " and it was then that Sandy arrived in the garden and sat down and put his drink on the glass table. "You know Sue I always find it interesting and revealing when Lisa provides a sort of movie trailer of who she is and who I am and who we are together as a couple. What I love about her take on us is that it is forever changing." Lisa seemed to enjoy being the center of attention as she started the Lisa/Sandy story as told by the narrator, Lisa. "Well in the beginning was a little girl who grew up in an upper class condo on Riverside Drive in New York City. Their was a papa bear who was a lawyer and sometime politician, a mama bear that was a debutant that continued to act the part even after she was a mother of grown children. Their was a little boy brother bear who was a playful pain in the ass but grew up to be a terrific guy and a reporter for the Times of London and then there was me who always liked to test the limits in all sorts of situations including all my time in a fancy private school that I hated along with the kids who went there. I met Sandy after graduating from U of Penn. Wharton Business School when I was working for a Wall Street private investment firm. Sandy was born in Frankfort Germany the son of Israelis who were working there. When he was 8 the family moved to New York and Sandy (Sanford, his Americanized name) was a super smart kid who ended up going to Berkeley and invented his own major which combined the disciplines of economics, brain science and anthropology. Can you believe that combination would work? Well it sure did for Sandy who had the job of his choice and chose economic development in the third world which is what he still does along with a host of projects that are more than just hobbies. Sandy was the most brilliant guy I ever met but also someone who did not fit anyone's mold except his own. We have been married for 19 years and have 2 great kids a 13 year old girl and an 11 year old boy who are both away at school. So there you have it but who and what we are is not visible in any of that biography but is revealed slowly and with others poking about our psyches. Sandy clapped his hands, "Bravo. Just as you said it is all there in a very brief summary and reveals nothing. Lisa you are so good at that, so good at the subtle tease of lifting layers and just providing a bare outline of what might just perhaps come next. " Sue laughed out loud. Thanks for the whiz bang compliment" and then leaned over and squeezed Sandy's knee. Sandy's cell phone rang and he got up and moved to another room. Minutes later he came back, "Now I really have to apologize but I am going to have to disappear for awhile. I wouldn't leave you but this is urgent. Lisa, why don't you ask Sue to stay for dinner and I can then join you later. Sue was surprised by her feelings. She was both excited and anxious knowing that she would be alone with Lisa and then took a deep breath to calm herself down. Lisa smiled. "Let's talk and continue with our mini biographies and don't worry nothing will happen that will make you uncomfortable. And by the way the real intimacy is about touching the places inside us that are private especially those that are our private internal voices. Sue was shocked by the words but didn't show it, or so she thought. She was surprised by her sense of relief but also disappointment. Sue knew how to hide and disguise her private thoughts, imaginings, emotions but she also suspected that Lisa saw much more about her inner life than anyone she had ever met, and more than what she would reveal to her husband Rick. Maybe that went 2 ways since she often felt that the the 'real' Rick was unknown to her. Sue talked while Lisa listened, asked questions. More surprises, ....the sense of being at home with Lisa, almost like a child being embraced, stroked. Even Lisa's timing seemed just right. Lisa stood up, stretched. " Enough for now. Sue, let's go inside and I will make us some dinner. How about a salad with slices of smoked turkey breast, and do you like anchovies, avocado, and a make really tasty salad dressing, with balsamic vinegar, olive oil, black pepper, oregano but no garlic and I have some aged cheddar that would be perfect with sour dough bread. How does that sound?" "Lisa that would be great and I would love to give you a hand. Can I do that?" and Lisa smiled and replied "No need. Just keep me company as I putter and mutter. Sue thought to herself 'oh, no garlic, and then was aware, somehow super conscious of everything happening around her. She felt like all of her mind pores were open taking in all of Lisa's words, gestures. 'Sue thought some more being both alive but off balance around Lisa. Lisa chuckled to herself and gave Sue a huge smile. "Sue, tell me what you thought when I said no garlic. Did you think it would somehow spoil the taste of a kiss like this?" and she leaned over hugged Sue and kissed her, and her mouth opened and her tongue slipped past Sue's lips an Sue opened her mouth wide and kissed Lisa back with her tongue and her lips and held her tight and did not want to let go but Lisa, stepped back, and jokingly said "I guess garlic might have spoiled the taste. What do you think? Lisa was relieved by the humor and started to laugh, then stopped. "You know Lisa, of course you know, I feel overwhelmed adrift, strange, and yes I am going to places that are so foreign to me, unexplored, scary, wonderful and delicious, and without the garlic" Lisa laughed and couldn't stop and Sue blushed and looked away. "Sue, I am not laughing at you at all. You should know that. I am smiling at your innocents, your charm. It reminds me of my filled with myself adolescence and the time I felt the need to introduce some of my classmates to the world of modern art and classical music. I reveled in their excitement and awed by their reaction to a world that had been foreign to them. It was a sense of my own power and value and was delighted and honored, touched by their excitement. It was delicious for all of us. But when it comes to being innocent, how could I forget my experience of 'seducing' my innocent 16 year old Mickey friend and classmate to the world of sex sort of. No we did not make love but I did encourage him to touch my breasts. I took his hand in mine and moved it all around both my breasts. I told him to squeeze my nipples but he was so gentle that I had to urge him to squeeze harder. I asked him if he would like to see me naked and he gasped, mumbled 'oh yes. That would be wonderful". So I slowly took off my sweater, then my skirt and my bra and even more slowly peeled off my panties all the while Mickey stared at me in total silence. In the meanwhile his mom was making dinner downstairs which made it all the more exciting. She thought we were studying and we were but it wasn't schoolwork. I was Mickey's first teacher, his coach, on the topic of sexuality, erotic wonderful pseudo sex. I took his hand and move it it all over my body, I took his fingers and placed them on my pussy and, at the same time put my hand around his rock hard prick and started to stroke it. I could feel him ready to explode. It was as exciting for me as it was for Mickey. When I put his prick in my mouth he came immediately. I had never tasted cum before and was immediately addicted. I also loved the experience of sharing, sharing sex, the excitement of a shared experience and giving and receiving pleasure while being in the role of the teacher and student all at the same time. I remember shuddering in the excitement of that moment. We never did have intercourse but did remain friends throughout the school year. That summer his family moved away. We continued to write each other for short time and then we both stopped writing. I often wonder what happened to Mickey." Sue's head was spinning in circles with all sorts of questions like 'Why is Lisa telling me all this, and am I another sort of experiment for her, a student in need of mentoring' and so Sue decided to confront Lisa. "Lisa, I again feel off balance listening to you and your experiences growing up. Have to ask you. Do you feel I need a mentor, a teacher, someone who would introduce me to your world, the one that is unfamiliar to me? I don't want to be treated as a naïve child and anyway..." Lisa interrupted, " Sue, I don't see you as a child, or someone who needs an introduction to another world. I told you what I did because I admire you, like you, and think you are beautiful, terrific. I want to get to know you and to do that I have to be willing to tell you about me and events in my life that have meant a great deal to me." "Lisa, can I be sure that you don't see me as a sort of pupil, a kind of experiment?" "Sue not at all. Would never have considered that. And anyway I am too selfish to not want to be with someone that can be my door to powerful, real experiences. You may not be totally aware of it but I saw so much in you when we first met and now feel even more strongly about that belief." And with that Lisa got up from her dinning room chair and walked behind Sue and wrapped her arms around her and held her in a tight embrace. She didn't let go for what seemed to Sue to be minutes. Finally Lisa let go of Sue and walked around facing her and bent down and kissed her on the cheek hugged her again and then kissed her hard on the lips, her mouth open, tongue pushed past Sue's lip which open and Sue kissed back and reached around and embraced Lisa. Their lips were locked, tongues touching, each tasting and exploring their wetness and neither was ready to let go but then they heard footsteps and stopped. It was Sandy moving about in the room above them. Sue immediately pulled back, took a deep breath. "I am so confused and also afraid" "Of what Sue? What is there to fear about our emotions, our passions, our experiences with others that matter to us?" "But Lisa, don't you understand that allowing our emotions are passions to be released and explored can be so dangerous?" "Sue. Of course I do. But look at the alternatives; lives lived in muted colors or in fuzzy black and whites, regrets for not daring to be who we are. By the way Sandy has written a short piece on the fears some many of us associate with our sexuality, our need to breath on the one hand, the fear of grasping life, but we often forget is the tragedy, the regrets we experience as we suffocate who we area and keep that being that we are a prisoner." "Lisa, I would love to read what Sandy wrote. Do you think I will understand it? "But of course." One other thing Sue. I told you that I would not do anything around you that would make you feel uncomfortable. However you have to also understand that I 'listen' to what you are saying to me, not just the words but what your body tells me what you want me to know. So, just moments ago we hugged each other, kissed each other felt the press of our bodies against one another and so I could not help noticing how your hardened nipples beneath your blouse. I wanted to touch your breasts and pull on your nipple buds but I didn't do so because I honored what I told you about not making you feel uncomfortable. I have to tell you that I noticed the scent of your sexuality knew that your pussy had started to flow with its wetness and wanted to not only touch your breasts but also to feel the soft wetness between your legs and wanted to taste you and ....but why am I saying all this to you knowing that I am trying to seduce you while knowing at the same time that I shouldn't do that. " Sue's eyes were wide open and she shocked herself as she blurted out, "I want you to touch me down there, I really do and am shocked that I am saying that but I want you to." Lisa smiled and stared at Sue. She stepped in front of her and placed her hand on Sue's knee and it is Sue who pushed her hand up against her soaked panties pushed against her pussy lips feeling the wetness all over her fingers. She withdrew her hand and placed her fingers under her nose and then sucked on one of fingers and it was at that moment that Sandy came into the room. Lisa danced over to him and placed her wet hand on Sandy's mouth, just under his nose. Sandy was beaming. "Why Lisa you certainly have handed me a delicious treat although I know for sure that it is a gift that comes by way of Sue which makes it even more enticing." Lisa embraced Sandy while Sue faced them both with a horrified look that surprising rapidly melted away. She thought, 'My God, what is happening to me. Passion's Eternal Blaze Chapter One Richard Marsh took off his glasses and tossed them on the pile of papers, on his desk. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. A glance at the clock revealed that it was three AM. It had been a long night grading mid-term papers. There were still over a dozen left in the stack to be graded. Richard was tempted to call it a night and go to bed, but he couldn't. He was required to post all mid-semester grades and student evaluations into the college's computer records system by five PM. For a minute, he regretted the tough twenty page thesis paper he had assigned his students because of the time involved in grading them. It was only a brief flash, if he was demanding and set high standards, he did it with his student's benefit in mind. He pushed them relentlessly to produce the best work they could. In turn, his student's enthusiasm to learn was his motivation when fatigue threatened to engulf him. Richard felt validated by his work as a college professor. His private life offered no such validation. In fact, it was a disaster. The interaction he had with his students and fellow faculty members was all that staved off loneliness and the near depression that weighed him down, at the end of each day. The hour and fifteen minute drive, from the college to his home, seemed endless. Made more so by coming home to an empty house. It hadn't always been that way. Years ago, his wife had been there with a welcoming kiss. His children had been there with hugs and "Hi, Daddy!" greetings. Now, the children were gone. They had homes and families of their own, now. Vicki, his loving wife, had lost a valiant battle with cancer , leaving him a widower. The pain of losing her had led to a distrust of personal involvement. He didn't date and rarely went out socially except to teach and do routine errands. He was aloof and distant with an air of an academic recluse, to those who knew him. Richard replaced the glasses, with a sigh, and picked up the next paper. He quickly scanned the title page. "I'm Not Salome" He read the title of the paper aloud, without realizing it. His voice was a deep baritone, slightly hoarse from too many cheap cigars and too much expensive Scotch. "Margaret Ray. Margaret Ray." He repeated the author's name with the hint of a smile. As he turned the page, he leaned back in his chair to read. Margaret Ray was one of the most intelligent, gifted students he had ever met in his career. She wasn't your typical college senior. Margaret was a returning adult student, in her late thirties or early forties. She was one of few students with a perfect 4.0 GPA. A remarkable feat considering she was a full-time student, worked full-time, and had a husband and two young children at home. To date, Margaret had been the only student he'd ever had that was willing to challenge some of his theories and opinions. While he didn't agree with her positions, he had to admit she backed up her arguments with solid data and stood her ground. Class discussions came alive with her in the room. Margaret could easily become a dynamic lecturer and educator, but her major was in a healthcare field. Why she had chosen to be little more than a medical secretary, Richard did not know. In fact, he knew very little at all about Margaret, except what he had gleaned from her student file, essays, and his own observations. She rarely talked about her personal life and did not socialize with the other students, as far as he knew. As he skimmed the first page of her paper, Richard realized that this paper was a far cry from Margaret's usual academic fare. She had taken the more challenging creative option of the assignment instead of the strictly academic one. Every year, he had offered student's the option of submitting a personal narrative essay in lieu of one academic paper. As most student's felt that personal narratives were harder to write, he rarely had the opportunity to read one. Going back to the beginning, he started paying more attention to her words. As he started to learn more about her, he began to draw a mental picture of her inside his head. Margaret was no beauty. She was rather plain. She was short and obese. Probably over three hundred pounds. Margaret wore glasses and was often clad in all black. In fact, he didn't remember ever seeing her wear anything colorful. She didn't wear makeup and didn't wear any jewelry, except for a simple silver wedding band. Her red hair was short, thin and touched with gray. Often, he would catch a sad expression on her face. Richard remembered wondering what caused the sadness. Her smiles were rare, but when she smiled, her eyes danced. It was her eyes that made her memorable. Bright blue pools that reflected the light and lit up her face. As Richard read her words., he grew to know more about her. Margaret's narrative essay revealed a lot, perhaps more than she had intended. As the hour grew later, he continued to read her story. Margaret's words powerfully drew his interest, compelling him to read the entire paper. When he finished reading, Richard set the paper, on the desk. He picked up a pen intending to write some comments, but put the pen down without writing anything. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he wasn't sure if he should say them. Richard lit a cigar, poured some more Scotch, and leaned back in his chair to think. His fatigue rapidly caught up with him and he drifted into a dream. Chapter Two The next day, Richard looked up, as the door of the classroom opened. As usual, Margaret was the first to arrive. "Good afternoon, Professor Marsh." "Good afternoon. How was your weekend?" Richard returned her greeting. Margaret placed her laptop case and a stack of books on the desk. Her answer was an almost snap. "Busy, as usual." "Must of been pretty bad, you sound like you are mad at the world. We have a few minutes if you'd care to talk about it." The sound was slight, but Richard thought he heard her sigh, as she placed her coat, on the back of her chair. She gave a short, almost sarcastic laugh. "I'm not mad at the world, yet." Richard didn't hear the comment. He was too distracted by the bright red satin blouse she wore. The bright color and sensuous fabric was definitely not her normal attire. It was low cut, revealing a lot of her chest. The fabric clung tightly to her large breasts. A string of pearls dangled against her cleavage. She wore the blouse with a black skirt that ended just above the knee. The skirt was much shorter than the ankle length ones he had seen her wear before. What looked like silk stockings covered her legs. She wore a pair of black high heels with the outfit. Much different from the sensible footwear she normally favored. When she turned to face him, he noticed that she was wearing makeup, something she normally didn't wear to class. She had also curled her hair and wore it styled in such a way that it looked softer and prettier. Margaret looked better than he'd ever seen her, today. "You're dressed up, today. Special occasion? " He asked. The familiar sad look crept across her face. "Well, it was." "Was?" "Today's my birthday. I thought my husband might take me out to lunch." "Happy birthday. I take it he didn't take you out for lunch." "No. He forgot, as usual. He took his mother to the casino for Senior Bingo." Margaret open her laptop, but continued to speak. "I don't know why I thought today would be any different." "Too bad he forgot." "I guess I shouldn't let it bother me so much." She added. "Why shouldn't it bother you? It would have bothered me, if my wife had ever forgot my birthday." In thirty- five years of marriage, Vicki had never forgot his birthday , nor had he forgotten hers. In fact, he still left a dozen roses for her, on her birthday, at the cemetery. He couldn't imagine just forgetting a loved one's birthday. He found his gaze drifting back over Margaret, again. Damn, she looked really good, today, Richard thought. He wondered if her hair was as soft to the touch as it looked. Other students started to arrive and Margaret didn't answer. Richard decided he would offer to treat Margaret to a cup of coffee, after class, for her birthday. Maybe it would cheer her up a bit. A few minutes later, as he began the lecture, Richard noticed a male student casting some glances Margaret's way. She's old enough to be your mother, kid, he thought to himself. He frowned, when he noticed the guy lean over and tap her on the shoulder. Richard saw her turn slightly and listen to something the guy said. Margaret blushed and whispered something back, then turned around. Richard wondered what the guy had said. If he was bothering her, he would ask him to leave. "Mrs. Ray, is Mr. Jones bothering you?" He asked. Margaret seemed surprised by the question. "Not really." She answered, but her tone was a bit strange. She almost giggled, he thought. Richard went back to the lecture. He taught almost on automatic pilot, as his thoughts drifted.He thought about Margaret, once again. His mind drifted back to some of the things she had written about, in her personal narrative. Margaret had written about being offered a work study position as a professor's assistant. She mentioned how she felt that she had to turn down the position because no one realized who she really was. She commented that her academic merit and many successes were merely a mask that people did not see through. Margaret wrote that she wasn't the wonderful person people, at the college ,thought she was. Margaret considered herself a failure as a woman. She had plenty of reason for the lack of self confidence. Her disaster of a marriage and poor relationship with her husband were,obviously, to blame for that. She hadn't come right out and admitted it, but Richard suspected that Margaret's husband was verbally and emotionally abusive. There were a lot of things, in her essay, that hinted at it. Despite what you think, Margaret, you are far from a failure as a woman, Richard thought. His eyes once again drifted over her ample breasts. Richard planned to ask Margaret about some of the things in her essay, while they had coffee, if she accepted his invitation. As class was ending, Richard asked Margaret if she would stay behind for a couple of minutes, as he wanted to discuss her essay. She agreed. When the last student had left, she stood and walked up to his desk. Richard tried hard to keep from staring at the jiggle of her breasts and slight sway of her hips as she walked. "I need a cup of coffee." Richard said. " Care to join me for one in the coffee shop? We can talk about your essay there. " "Sure. Let me get my things." Margaret walked back to collect them. Richard grabbed his briefcase and followed. "Let me carry those for you." He picked up the stack of books from her desk. "Thank you." A surprised smile lit up her face. They walked out of the classroom together. The coffee shop, down the hall was a quick walk away. Richard led the way to a small table in a back corner. "I'll go order for us." He said. "What would you like?" "I don't care, as long as it's warm." Margaret commented. "Okay, I'll be right back." Richard looked at the menu, wondering what he should order. In the end, he ordered a mint mocha latte and a vanilla caramel latte. He liked both and figured she would like one or the other. He noticed some fancy cupcakes and pastries in the case and ordered two cupcakes. He carried the drinks and cakes back to their table, watching Margaret, as he walked. "Mint mocha or vanilla caramel?" He asked, as he put the drinks on the table. "Mint, thanks." He smiled. "I had a hunch you were a chocolate lover." He placed a chocolate cupcake in front of her, and sat down. "Chocolate is one of my weaknesses." Margaret took a sip of her drink. A bit of the whipped cream clung to her lips. Richard wondered what it would feel like to kiss it away. He shook his head, surprised by the thought. He hadn't even thought about kissing a woman, since his wife died. "You mentioned you wanted to discuss my essay." Margaret's voice interrupted his thoughts. "It's a solid personal narrative. Very well written. The content is what I wanted to talk to you about." "Oh?" Margaret took another sip of her drink. "Surely you aren't a failure as a woman. I found it disturbing that you feel that way about yourself." "I have my reasons." The sad expression crept back into her eyes. "Care to share them?" He asked. "The professor you would have been working with would have been me. I think you would be an asset to my department. I'm quite dissappointed that you turned down the position. It must pay triple what you are earning, now. " Margaret sighed. "It's not a matter of money. It's a matter of pride. You wouldn't understand." "Try me. I'm a good listener." His tone was insistent, nearly demanding. Margaret shifted in her chair. Professor Marsh was being kind and she was tempted to confide in him. Lord knew, she didn't have many people she could talk to. She glanced at her watch, her husband wasn't going to pick her up for another couple of hours. Mentally debating what to say, she took another sip of her drink. "It's a long story." "I've got time." " Almost everyone, here at school, thinks I am such a wonderful person. Oh, sure I have good grades, am on the student advisory board, and volunteer in the community, I don't deny that. But,the school seems to think I am a good role model for women . I took offense to that comment when they offered me the position. A role model I am not. It would be a disservice to other students if the college placed me in a position to be a role model for others, right now. In the future, maybe, not now." "I got that much from your essay. Why in the world wouldn't you consider yourself a role model for other women? A great student, volunteer in the community, have a respectable job, you have it all." "That's the long story part." Margaret nibbled on the cupcake. "Like I said, I've got time. " Professor Marsh looked so kind and concerned. Margaret felt like she could tell him anything.Sighing, she took another sip. "My parent's are old school. They believe that women have one purpose in life. That purpose , according to them, is to marry well and have children. They think women should be decorative housewives who live to raise their children and keep their husband happy. To them, a woman is only worth something if she is attractive enough to keep her spouse satisfied, and thus her home life running smoothly. They raised me to believe that, as well." Margaret paused to sip her drink. "I tried to live up to what society considers attractive. However, I never could compete with other women when it came to looks. I never expected to find anyone attracted enough to me to want to sleep with me, let alone marry me. I was 29 when I met my husband, Fred. He is a lot older, had already been married and divorced twice, before we met. Not a lot of women wanted to date him. My husband wasn't a great catch. He was unemployed, disabled, and a had a quick temper. He was an only child and at 48, did not have children. His mother was pestering him a lot because she wanted grandchildren to carry on the family name. Fred was lonely , I think. So, he started looking for someone. We both had profiles on an internet dating site. He responded to mine and told me everything a woman wants to hear. " Richard waved over a waitress and ordered two more lattes. When the waitress left, Margaret continued. "Fred made me feel alive. For the first time, I felt wanted, desired, and loved. I didn't feel like I was a disappointment and a failure as a woman. When he proposed, I said yes. When I got pregnant right away, my husband was thrilled. So was his mother. I miscarried a few weeks later. My husband and mother- in - law were upset because they wanted the child so much. My mother convinced my husband that I must have had an abortion or done something wrong to cause the miscarriage. After that, he wouldn't come near me for awhile. Eventually, I was able to convince him that I had wanted the child. A specialist doctor was able to convince him that I had not caused the miscarriage. After awhile, I got pregnant, again, only to have another miscarriage. I had five more miscarriages and after each one, my mother in law would treat me even worse and try to convince my husband that I was evil. Finally, I was able to give him a son and her a grandson. I almost died having my son and was very weak and ill after the baby was born. My mother in law thought I was being a wimp, was just lazy, and was a bad mother because I needed help with the baby. My husband believed her and became very remote, distant, and cold for awhile It wasn't long before my mother-in- law was hinting to my husband that a granddaughter would be nice. Things improved in our relationship. I got pregnant, again. I had even more problems. I was in the hospital a lot. Eventually, our daughter was born. But, the doctor said I shouldn't have any more children because I would die trying to give birth, again. " Their drinks arrived and after a couple of sips, Margaret continued. "After my mother found out I shouldn't have any more children, she was furious. She convinced my husband that I was selfish and just wanted my career and that I wasn't a good mother. After he found out I could no longer have children, my husband ignored me most of the time. He would talk to me only when necessary. He turned from a loving, attentive, affectionate man into a very cold, distant, emotionally abusive stranger. He's been a wonderful father to the children, but a lousy husband. " "Your husband never really loved you, he just picked you because you could give him children." Richard observed quietly. Margaret nodded. "Unfortunately, I was so in love with him that I never saw the signs that he didn't really love me for me. After our second child was born, he told me he didn't want me anymore physically and I had to just deal with it, if I wanted to stay around and see the kids grow up." Tears threatened then, glistening in her eyes. "I am such a failure as a woman. I can't even keep my husband happy. I am hardly role model material for women." Richard wanted to seek out Margaret's husband and beat him to a pulp. The guy was a first class jerk for preying on a vulnerable young girl, then turning nasty and abusive just when things didn't go his way. What kind of man made his wife live in a cold, abusive sham of a marriage ,under the threat of losing her children? Competing with the urge to beat the guy up, was the urge to wrap Margaret up in his arms and never let her go. He settled for reaching across the table and squeezing her hand. "You're more of a role model than you think. You're putting up with Hell on Earth just so your children will have you in their lives. If that doesn't put you close to saint status, nothing will." The warm touch of his hand on hers was comforting. It had been years since she had been touched by a man, Margaret thought. It had felt good to tell someone what was going on. For the first time, in years, she felt safe. She didn't want to leave , but she knew she had to. Fred would be upset if he had to wait for her, especially if he had lost at bingo, earlier. Reluctantly, she stood up. "Thanks for the coffee. I really enjoyed it. I do have to be going, though. " "My pleasure. " Richard tossed a couple of bills on the table and stood up. "I'll walk you out." He offered. Margaret was going to decline the offer, but decided not to. A few more minutes of this kind man's company would be very welcome. Once again, Richard picked up her stack of books and slid his other hand under her elbow to guide her out of the. now crowded, campus coffee shop. Margaret couldn't remember the last time Fred had taken her arm like that. It was a pleasant surprise to discover manners still existed in men. Passion's Eternal Blaze They didn't talk, as the two walked down the hall. Richard was relieved, as it gave him the opportunity to quietly study her. Such an amazing intellect would be a valuable asset in his department. He wished he could change her mind about the position. There was more to it than that, though. He'd get to enjoy her company more often if she accepted. They walked out of the building and stood near the green. Margaret glanced around, looking for Fred's familiar blue sedan. He was no where to be seen, which was unusual. Usually, he was early. She flipped open her cell phone and dialed. "Where are you parked?" She asked when he picked up. "Darn. Is it six, already? I went shopping with Mom, after bingo. Mom's still in the checkout line and I'm and hour and a half away. " "Okay. I'll go study for awhile, at the library, then get a cab home later, since you'll have to go right to the lanes. " Fred hung up after saying okay. "Studying on your birthday?" Richard asked. Margaret gave a half sarcastic laugh. "Looks like it. I figured I'd make use of the time anyway." Richard didn't think it was fair that such a nice woman should have to spend her birthday being ignored. An idea came to mind. "Everybody should celebrate their birthday. Why don't you join me for dinner and I'll take you home later?" He asked. Margaret smiled and agreed thinking it would be more fun than studying algebra. "My car is this way." Richard led the way to the parking lot. Margaret wasn't at all surprised when he stopped beside a fancy black Lexus sedan. All of the school's professors were highly paid and their vehicles reflected that. One day, maybe, if she got a decent job, she'd buy a nice car for herself. As it was, they could only afford the twelve year old used sedan Fred drove. Richard opened the trunk and tossed in their books. He came around and opened the car door for her. As she slid onto the leather seat, she tried to remember the last time Fred had opened a car door for her. He hadn't done that since they were first married. As he drove out of the parking lot, Richard wondered where to go for dinner. He hadn't taken a woman out to dinner, since his wife had passed away, years ago. His wife used to like a fancy Italian place out by the lake. He didn't know if the place was still open, but he figured he'd head out there and see. "I know a great Italian place." Richard said. "Do you like Italian?" "Sounds good. I love Italian food." Margaret replied. She was thinking that things were turning out much better than dinner out of the vending machine, in the library. Richard turned on the radio, clicking through a stations. "What kind of music do you like?" "I'll listen to anything, but my favorite is country." "Mine too." Richard switched to a country station. George Strait's voice filled the car. Out of habit, Richard started to sing along, then stopped himself. "Don't stop on my account." Margaret laughed. "I was going to join you." "Okay." Richard continued with the song. Margaret joined in. A dozen songs later, Richard pulled into the driveway of the restaurant. Margaret was impressed by his choice, considering it had a reputation as the fanciest restaurant in the area. She had never been there, but had always wanted to. Her birthday was definitely getting better. She waited while he walked around to open the car door for her. They walked together across the parking lot. It was just getting dark and a bunch of twinkling white lights came on. They adorned every tree, the fence, the gazebo, and the building. "Oh, how pretty." Margaret commented. No prettier than you are, Richard thought to himself. The soft light reflected off her hair turning it a soft red gold. The urge to draw her close and kiss her seemed to come out of nowhere. He resisted the urge, barely, by reminding himself that she was married and probably wouldn't welcome that type of attention. For a second, Margaret thought he was going to kiss her. The thought wasn't as disturbing as it should have been. What was disturbing was that she felt disappointed that he didn't. As they walked into the restaurant, Margaret was trying to sort through her feelings. She didn't notice the sign advertising a karaoke contest and dancing as the entertainment for the evening. Richard pointed to it. "The way you sing, you'd win." Margaret laughed. "I don't think so. You would. You sound just like George Strait." "Want to enter?" "Only if you do." Richard asked the hostess for a couple of entry forms and let her know they were there for dinner. They checked their coats and followed the waitress to a table. Richard pulled out her chair for her. The waitress handed them menus and then asked if she could bring them something to drink. Richard asked for a wine list. The waitress handed them wine lists and excused herself. Margaret looked at the wine list. Half of the names of the wine she couldn't begin to pronounce. "Pretty extensive list." She commented. "Yes. It is." Richard agreed. "Do you have a preference?" "I can't decide. You pick." Richard glanced over the list, thinking he wanted something special, considering it was her birthday. He wasn't all that familiar with wine, but a vaguely familiar name stuck out in the champagne column. There were several vintages available. "What year were you born?" He asked. "1972." She answered, even though it seemed an odd question. When the waitress returned, he ordered a bottle of the 1972 Dom Perignon . Margaret had been concentrating on the menu and glanced up when he gave the order, not quite hiding the surprise in her expression. Richard caught the look. "We're celebrating, after all. " He glanced over the appetizer section. "Which appetizer appeals to you?" " It hard to chose. They all sound good. " "The stuffed chicken livers are delicious and so is the shrimp thing. " "I'll try the chicken livers then." When the waitress returned with the bottle of champagne, they ordered their appetizers and dinner. Richard ordered lasagna and Margaret ordered the same. The waitress poured the champagne and then left to put in their orders. "Happy birthday. May you have many more." Richard raised his glass. "Thank you." Their glasses touched and she took a sip. The wine was beyond delicious. She made an involuntary sound close to a contented purr and closed her eyes. Richard wondered what other pleasures might induce a similar sound. He noticed her breasts rise and fall with her breathing, as they strained against the satin. For a moment, he wondered how they would look released from their satin prison. Her husband must be an idiot to ignore such a woman on her birthday, he thought. When she opened her eyes, Margaret's gaze locked with his. He must have a girlfriend, she thought. Richard was handsome in a distinguished sort of way. Too handsome for a woman not to have snatched him up. Too handsome to be interested in a woman that looked like she did. Surely, she thought, she must have imagined the earlier look. She excused herself to go to the ladies room. Once inside it, she leaned against the marble sink. What the Hell was she thinking? She was married, for God's sake. Even if he didn't love her, even if Fred hadn't so much as kissed her in six years, she was still married. Professor Marsh was a just friend who wanted to be nice on her birthday. Going that long without sex was taking its toll, that and turning 40. "Get a grip." She told herself. Taking out her cell phone, she dialed Fred to let him know she might be home later than he thought. " One of my friend's invited me out to dinner, for my birthday. I might be home late." Margaret told Fred when he picked up. "Okay. I just bowled a 288. I'm going to have some drinks with the team after anyway. See you later." "See you." Margaret hung up. He hadn't even bothered to wish her a happy birthday, let alone tell her he loved her. Margaret touched up her makeup and then returned to their table. Richard stood up when she returned. Old fashioned manners like that she found flattering. The waitress arrived with their appetizers. They ate, sipped the champagne, and made small talk. Margaret couldn't remember when she had enjoyed a meal more. Richard found himself relaxing and feeling more alive than he had, in years. Margaret was a delightful companion and a joy to be around. They finished the bottle of champagne. The waitress noticed and stopped by to ask if they wanted coffee and dessert. Wanting to prolong the evening, Richard ordered for both of them. "Would you like it served in the lounge? Karaoke is going to start soon." Their waitress asked. "That would be wonderful." Richard said. "Shall we venture in there?" Margaret asked after the waitress left. The champagne had relaxed her and she was enjoying the company and atmosphere. She stood up as he did and slid her arm through his. They made their way into the lounge and settled into a comfortable corner . The booth was more of a curved soft leather couch with a small table in front of it. Margaret slid gracefully onto the couch and Richard slid in next to her. The lounge was dimly lit. There were candles on all of the tables and soft lights on the walls. A dance floor occupied the center of the floor in front of a small stage. A bar graced a side wall. Two karaoke song books and more entry forms were on the table. They each took a book and looked through the available songs. "What do you feel like singing?" Richard asked as he looked through the choices. "I don't know." "We don't have long to decide." He commented. There wasn't any George Strait songs in the book. There was mostly contemporary music in the book. He had heard a lot of the newer stuff. One song stood out...a song about a man who couldn't wait to get his woman home and see her black dress hit the floor. The song made him think about how he'd like to see that red blouse of hers hit the floor. Richard wrote down the song on his form. Margaret settled on a classic the Pointer Sister's Fever. It was one of her favorites and somehow appropriate, given where her thoughts were straying. Margaret wrote it down on her form. It wasn't long before the DJ came around to collect the entries for the contest. The DJ said he was going to play a few songs for dancing before starting the contest, in an hour. The waitress brought coffee and dessert. The two chatted and sipped their coffee , while waiting for the music to start. They didn't have long to wait. The first song was a Bon Jovi tune. The volume and bass were turned up so high, they could not hear each other over it. To avoid shouting, they moved closer to each other. The third song was a slow one. Richard asked Margaret to dance. She hadn't slow danced, in years. She was tempted to say no, but something inside her was thrilled that he'd asked. He slide out of the booth and extended his hand. A dance or two wouldn't hurt, she thought, getting to her feet. Margaret looked into Richard's eyes, as she placed a hand lightly on his shoulder. He had the most intriguing hazel eyes, she thought. His smile was warm and made his face look even more attractive. Somehow the rest of the dancers seemed to disappear. Margaret felt her attraction to him build. This was dangerous, she thought. Very dangerous. She'd wanted Fred when they were first together, but she'd never felt like this. Margaret's senses seemed heightened. She could feel solid muscle beneath his suit jacket, under her fingertips. The faint scent of his cologne, a blend of musk, leather, and something she couldn't name lingered on the air. A little voice in her head started telling her to beware, but she dismissed it. She wanted this dance. For all she knew, it might be the last time a man would hold her in his arms because he wanted to. God knew it had been years since Fred had held her. She decided to enjoy the dance and, maybe, even flirt a little. It couldn't hurt and she'd have a wonderful, pleasant memory, something to draw on when she indulged in the occasional guilty pleasure of masterbation, the only sexual gratification she'd had, for the past six years. Richard couldn't believe how nice she felt in his arms. Without thinking, he drew her closer. She settled against him like she belonged there. The softness of her breasts pressed against his chest was arousing. He hadn't felt like this, in a long time. Acting on instinct, again without thinking, he ran his hand down her back, in a caress, and back up. Richard felt her sudden intake of breath and the slight shudder that went through her. Even his wife had never reacted like to a simple caress. Margaret's reaction made him feel ten feet tall. He repeated the caress, shifting her even closer. It seemed the most natural thing in the world, to lift her arms around his neck. Her breasts pressed hard into his chest. She felt her nipples harden in response and wondered if he could feel them through her bra and blouse. Margaret was going to pull away, but she didn't have the strength. She had wanted to be wanted and desired for so long , she was starved for affection. She knew she should step away and end the dance, but she couldn't. Her emotions were overpowering her judgement. His hand moved lower, to the small of her back, pressing her closer still. Close enough that she rested her head on his shoulder. The song ended but he was reluctant to let her go. Another slow song began. The skin of her neck looked so soft and inviting that he wanted to rain kisses down it. He tried to mentally talk himself out of it, but it was a losing battle. Richard pressed a tender kiss against her neck. Then, a few more. He pressed his lips against her ear and nibbled lightly on her earlobe. "You, my sweet Angel, are definitely not a failure as a woman." He whispered. He heard her gasp, then, as another shudder went through her. He ran his lips lightly across her cheek to the corner of her mouth. Margaret felt her knees go suddenly weak. If he hadn't been holding her so close, she would have fallen. She fought for a little self control. She could hardly believe those were her own fingers that ran up his neck, to the back of his head, pressing him closer , so her lips met his. Their lips met in a long, deep kiss. The song ended and people started applauding. That brought her a little closer to reality. Close enough to step away and thank him for the dance, as if they hadn't been nearly making love on the dance floor. They walked back to their booth and he slid in, next to her, drawing her close to his side. He opened the sliding glass doors, leading out to the deck. A cold breeze blew in. Richard removed his suit coat and draped it around her shoulders. The waitress came by and refilled their coffee. The DJ announced the start of the karaoke contest and called Richard up first. Saying, "I'll be back." He dropped a quick kiss on Margaret's cheek, and went up on the stage. Margaret expected him to sing one of the songs they had sang, in the car. She was surprised when the first notes of the intro sounded. She recognized the song instantly. It was one that she had played so much , she had worn out three compact discs. Richard apparently knew the song well, too. Instead of reading the words on the screen, he took the mic and stepped off the stage, walking back towards her, as he sang. He changed a few words, as he went along. When the black dress in the song became a red blouse, she almost fainted. Margaret's head was starting to get a little fuzzy from all the champagne and emotions running through her. She knew she shouldn't allow herself to feel this way, but feeling wanted and desired was like a powerful drug in her veins. When the song ended, the crowd applauded loudly. Richard made his way back to their table, stopping once in awhile to acknowledge a good job or high five from the crowd. "You were fantastic." Margaret slid over so he could sit down. "I had plenty of inspiration." The next contestant started to sing an off key rendition of a Christmas carol. The crowd started to boo. The guy left the stage before he got to the second verse. A third competitor was introduced. A young blonde woman began to sing a popular hip hop tune. The DJ turned the bass up so that conversation was impossible. Margaret's turn to sing was next. Normally, Margaret would have been more than a little self conscious about following the supermodel lookalike. However, she had consumed enough alcohol that it didn't matter. She decided that she would sing the song for Richard. Margaret looked for him, across the room. She found his gaze fixed on her. When the music started, she began to sing . Richard knew she had a wonderful voice, from their impromptu singing, in the car, but paired with the DJ's efforts on his mixing board, she sounded better than good. All she needed was a fancy sequined gown and a piano to drape herself across, and she could pass for one of the sexy stars in old black and white movies, he thought. For the hundredth time, he thought it was a damn shame she was married. Then, there was the fact she was his student. Yes, relationships between students and professors weren't unheard of, but the faculty frowned on them. He wouldn't lose his job over it, but things would be testy, for awhile. As he listened to her sing, he decided she would be worth putting up with the fallout, at the college. Her marriage certainly wasn't a good one. Maybe, just maybe, he might have a chance at building something with her. He would give it his best shot and see what happened, he thought. Chapter 3 When Margaret finished the song, the crowd applauded as loudly as they had for Richard. She returned to their table and sat down. "Sure you don't want to go for a recording career, instead?" Richard teased. Margaret laughed. "No way. " The DJ announced a break to return to dance music, for awhile. The song was a slow, romantic , love song. "Let's dance, beautiful." She would have declined, but the way he called her beautiful sent her senses reeling, again. Fred hadn't called her beautiful, since before they were married. She'd often wondered if any man would ever call her that, again. Smiling, Margaret joined Richard on the dance floor, almost drifting into his arms. He gently pulled her closer, his hand running over her back. She could feel the strength of it through the thin satin of her blouse. Fred never danced with her like this – like he couldn't get close enough to her, she thought. In fact, in all the years they had been married, Fred had never given her a French kiss her like Richard had, earlier. Richard's hand moved down to her hip, pressing her closer still. His hand made a slow, erotic, caressing journey from her hip, up her side, to the side of her breast. Richard lowered his head to kiss her neck again. He could smell the light scent of roses and jasmine that clung to her like a second skin. As he kissed her, she made that small sound like a purr, again. Margaret shifted her body, rubbing her breasts against his chest. Her hand went to the back of his head, half caressing, half holding him closer. At that moment, he knew he loved her. As shocking as the thought was, he realized the love he had for her was deeper and stronger than he'd ever felt for Vicki . He almost whispered "I love you", in her ear, but caught himself. Too much too soon, Richard thought. He didn't want to scare her. The song ended. "Let's get out of here." He suggested. "What about the contest?" She asked. "Who cares?" She smiled then, and he led her back to the table. He motioned for the waitress asking for the check. The waitress returned shortly. Richard paid the bill and they went to collect their coats. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close, as they walked to the car. Margaret smiled as he opened the car door for her. Before she got in, it seemed only natural to reach up and press a light kiss on the corner of his mouth. "It's still early. How about a movie?" Passion's Eternal Blaze "What kind of movies do you like?" She asked, sliding closer to him, on the bench seat. "I like old westerns and war movies. Some of the newer stuff is pretty good, too. How about you? " "I love westerns. John Wayne was such a good actor." "Really." He seemed surprised. "I just got a collection of 20 of his movies on DVD. I haven't had a chance to watch all of them. Would you like to watch one with me?" " I'd love to. " Somewhere along the way to his place, Margaret undid her seat belt and slid close enough that he could put his arm around her. Richard felt like the luckiest man in the world when she laid her head, on his shoulder. Once home, he pulled the car into the garage and shut off the engine. He noticed she had fallen asleep. He smiled. She looked so lovely sleeping . Richard couldn't resist kissing her lips tenderly. Margaret stirred and opened her eyes. She said his name, as a soft sigh, her lips parting. "We're home, Angel." They kissed a few more times before he got out of the car and helped her out. Once inside, he led her to the couch. "Why don't you get comfortable and I'll put in the movie?" The couch was one of those large, black , overstuffed suede models. Margaret sank into the cushions in a half sitting half reclining position. She slipped out of her high heels, with a sigh. Her feet had been hurting since early that morning. She remembered dressing up, hoping Fred would notice and at least give her a birthday kiss. A real passionate kiss. He hadn't. But then he had stopped kissing her, years ago, except for maybe a quick peck on the cheek. As she sat there, her thoughts drifted to the previous evening. After the children were in bed, she had showered and slipped into the sexiest negligee she could find, in her size. She had hoped Fred would notice. She had hoped he'd make love to her. But, he hadn't. After six years of being ignored, his rejection shouldn't have hurt, as much. But, somehow it had hurt even more. She'd laid there, next to him, crying silently, just as she had done for so many nights of their marriage. Eventually, sometime after midnight, she had drifted off to sleep, only to be awakened by a hard jab, in the ribs. As usual, Fred told her to roll over or something. Instead, she got up, surveyed the scattered black and blue marks, in various stages of healing, on her side. She wasn't the one who snored. Fred snored so much, sometimes he even stopped breathing for a few seconds. He would half wake up when he resumed breathing and swear she had been the one snoring. Before she'd drifted off to sleep, at her study desk, she had prayed to God for one minor miracle. She'd asked for just one passionate night with the man who loved her, for her birthday. Margaret thought maybe she should have specified with Fred. God works in mysterious ways, she thought. Smiling, she said a quick, silent prayer of thanks. Richard came back into the room with the movie, a bottle of wine, corkscrew, and a couple of glasses. He placed the items on the coffee table. "Chardonnay?" Richard asked, as he opened the wine. Margaret nodded, accepting the glass he handed her. Richard poured a glass for himself , then went to build a fire, in the fireplace. After building the fire, he put the dvd disc into the player. Then, Richard joined her, on the couch. "Your feet must hurt after wearing those shoes all day." He commented, as he bent to lift her feet onto his lap. Richard began to massage one foot lightly, relaxing the sore muscles. "Mmmm. That feels good." She murmured, closing her eyes. Margaret leaned over and placed her empty glass, on the end table. Stretching like a cat, she shifted closer to Richard. Fred never once gave her a massage, even when she was pregnant and begged for him to rub her back. The movie forgotten, Richard caressed her feet. For a large woman, Margaret had very small, delicate feet and trim ankles. He lifted one foot and placed a kiss on the top of it. He rained tender kisses and nibbles over her foot. Margaret never had her feet kissed and caressed like that before. Heat pooled within her, desire built. Richard gently nibbled and kissed a toe and then sucked it lightly, while his hand massaged her ankle. A kiss on her ankle caused her to moan. Richard moved, gently placing her feet on the couch. He moved so that he was sitting on the edge of the couch. He kissed her then, a gentle feather light kiss on the lips. Then another kiss. Margaret's arms lifted around his neck, pulling him close. Kiss followed kiss. Each one was longer and deeper than the one before. Richard's hand caressed her side, then her breast. He could feel her hard nipple through her bra and blouse. He undid the buttons on her blouse, to reveal her breasts nearly spilling out of a black lace bra. He almost came in his pants. He had seen lingerie like that in catalogs, but Vickie hadn't liked fancy undies, she had preferred plain white cotton. So, he'd never held a woman who wore it. He'd fantasied about women in lingerie, never dreaming he'd be lucky enough to hold one close. Margaret shifted then, moving so that she was kneeling on the couch, next him. She slowly moved, shifting her shoulders and arms. Richard watched as her blouse slid off her and hit the floor. A jolt of red hot need ran through him. God, he had to have her. Richard pulled her close almost roughly. One hand went behind her neck to tangle in her hair. His other hand cupped and massaged her breast. Richard kissed and nibble the side of her neck. His hand moved lower, brushing her bruised side, not hard, but hard enough to cause shooting pain that caused her to stiffen and gasp an "ouch." Richard paused. "What?" He moved and glanced down, noticing the bruises. He sat back and gently eased and coaxed Margaret into a position where she was laying across his lap. "Were you in an accident?" He asked, although he was pretty sure she hadn't been. He caressed her hair and kissed her forehead. "No." She was going to leave it at that , but his concerned quizzical expression drew the truth out of her. She ended with a, "He never remembers doing it, or says he doesn't. Sometimes I get an apology, but most of the time he just tells me to quit snoring. I used to sleep in the guestroom a lot, at night. Now, since he sold our house and we moved in with his parent's, because they can't live alone, no separate bedroom for me." There was something in her expression that made him think she wasn't telling him everything. "Why have you stayed with the jerk? You're smart enough to know you don't have to put up with being treated like that." Margaret sighed. Tears gathered in her eyes. "If I leave, I'll never see my children, again. His parent's are quite wealthy. Fred and his mother have both told me if I ever leave, they'll have me declared an unfit mother and denied even visitation. They have the money to accomplish it, too – even if they have to bribe a judge." Richard continued to stroke her hair tenderly. "That's why you went back to school, isn't it? You're hoping for a better job with a much better salary. Enough so you can put enough away for a good divorce attorney." "That was sort of my plan when I enrolled." "So what are your career ambitions?" "Everyone I know thinks I'm nuts, but I read an article about the highest paid positions in the state. I'm aiming for the top of the list, or at least one of the top ten." "My, you are ambitious. President of the university or a tenured department head. You' re headed for a doctorate. " Richard smiled. "I'm sure you'll get there, one day." He lightly caressed her breast, teasing her nipple through the black lace. "I want to." "You know what I want?" He asked, as he bent and kissed her forehead. "Mmmmmm?" The sound was a half purr, half moan sort of answer. "You. An eternity with you lying beneath me, making that sound, as my hands and mouth turn your body to liquid fire. Forever with you gasping my name, begging me to finish this...." Richard's voice trailed off, as his lips met hers, and his hand slipped under her bra. Margaret gasped and opened her eyes. Her gaze met his. The look in his eyes was like nothing she had ever seen before. All her life she had yearned to be accepted, desired, and loved for who she was. She wanted to feel loved, honored, and cherished. There was all that and more in his gaze. The sheer intensity of the emotions that ran through her was almost overwhelming. Here was a wonderful man who offered her all she had ever wanted in a friend and a lover. But, was she woman enough to keep him satisfied for long? She couldn't even keep Fred satisfied even though he'd sworn he loved her. Richard and Fred were different. Richard was the type of man any woman would want. Richard was super sexy, masculine, loving, and compassionate. He had a great sense of humor, was intelligent, and had a great career with job security. Richard was a manly man. Fred was well, Fred was Fred. She hadn't been enough for him, she was afraid she wouldn't be enough for Richard. Fred had often threatened to find a "real woman" to replace her, but he never had. Probably because he couldn't find someone else that wanted him. Richard wouldn't have any trouble finding someone better than she was. Doubts and her own insecurity resurfaced and acted like a sudden ice cold shower on her desire. Margaret sat up and drew a deep breath. "Richard, I ... I can't deny that I want you." Another deep breath. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone. " She had been going to go on and add more, but Richard pulled her close and kissed her, again. This time the kiss was hard, deep, and demanding. A kiss of sizzling raw passion and need. His tounge found hers in an intimate dance of their own. Richard's hand went to the front of her bra. With a quick motion, the lace bra tore down the center.Almost roughly, he pulled the cups away from her breasts. It was his turn to gasp as the mounds of soft flesh almost popped into his hands. Her breasts were so large his hand could not reach around one. So heavy they sagged under their own weight. Richard found one of her nipples and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. It hardened and grew to the size of a thimble. His cock was so hard it was almost breaking the zipper on his pants. God knew he'd knew been this aroused this quick by a woman. Margaret's hands went to the front of his shirt and undid the buttons. Her fingers ran over his chest tangling in the hair. She shifted, twisting a little so her breasts pressed into his chest. Somehow she was half kneeling on the couch, facing him, sitting on his lap. His hand went to her hips, sliding her skirt up and pressing her down against him. Margaret gasped and arched her back as he sucked on her nipple. She felt wetness start to seep onto her panties. She'd never been this turned on before. She'd never know a woman could get so moist there. "Let's go get more comfortable, my love." Richard's voice was dark and husky. He helped her off his lap and they stood up. Richard led her down the hall to his bedroom, wishing that he could have carried her. His bedroom was functional, and a bit cluttered and disorganized. Since Vicki had passed away, he had put away all of the things that reminded him of her. He had redone the room in blues and greys, leaving the bed, nightstands and a dresser. Vicki's dresser had been replaced by his computer desk and chair. A pair of glass doors led out into the sun room, which housed a hot tub. Another door led to the master bathroom and a smaller door into a walk in closet. He led her into the sun room, turning on lights and the hot tub jets, as he passed the switches on the wall. A few kisses later, he instructed her to get in the tub and relax and he'd join her in a minute. Richard went back to the living room and grabbed the rest of the wine and their glasses. He rummaged around in the hall closet for some candles and a lighter. Back in the sun room, he found Margaret had undressed and slipped into the tub. Her eyes were closed and she was leaning back against the edge, her breasts floating half in the water, bubbles running over them. Richard poured them each another glass of wine, and placed the candles around the room, lighting each one. Margaret watched him silently, as the warmth of the water relaxed her. Richard was such a romantic, she thought, as he lit the candles and turned on a small radio on the shelf. As he adjusted it to an easy listening station that played all slow music, a smile touched her lips. Fred wasn't into romance. He'd never lit candles for her, or shared a hot tub with her. Sharing a glass of wine with Fred was a rarity, too. Feeling beyond special, Margaret accepted the glass of wine and took a sip. Richard left the room to return with a bunch of towels, a couple of bath robes , and a few small bottles of stuff. One he opened and dumped it's contents into the tub. The tub filled with vanilla smelling bubbles. "Mmmmmmm." There was that sound, again, he thought, with a smile. "I must be dreaming." Margaret whispered. "If you're dreaming, then I must be, too." Richard said with a laugh, as he removed his clothes and stepped into the tub. He moved next to her, pulling her against him for another kiss. Her body was so soft and warm, like molten silk. Richard wanted to sink himself into her lush curves and stay there forever. The scent of vanilla from the bubbles filled the room and swirled around them, as a love song played on the radio. He moved her, so that she reclined on one of the wide seats of the tub, her head rested against another. He began to massage her gently, under the swirling water. Richard's hands played with her breasts, glided over her large belly. Margaret's legs parted slightly, as she shifted and squirmed. His hand drifted lower. Richard's hand slid over her pubic mound. His fingertip pressed gently, parting the lips of her pussy. His fingertip slid right over her clitoris, eliciting another purr of pleasure. He bent and kissed her, again. Margaret clung to him. She had never felt like this before, this intense tight pleasure building low in her belly. Whatever he was doing was something else. Fred had never touched her like that. Making love with Fred meant three or four kisses without tongue, then he'd squeeze her breast and run his hand over her hip, before pulling her legs apart and shoving his cock inside her roughly. A few thrusts and he'd roll off her and fall asleep in seconds. It had felt nice to be wanted by Fred, sort of a warm pleasant feeling, but it was nothing like what she was feeling, now. The feelings building inside Margaret frightened her. She felt like she was going to explode into a million pieces. She didn't even feel like this when she masterbated. She clung tighter, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. "Let it happen, Angel. Cum for me." Richard's whispered close to her ear, then nibbled her neck. Feelings flooded through her. White lights flashed in her mind. Warmth washed over her as she started to tremble in his arms. She gasped his name as she floated somewhere above the clouds. Richard held her close and caressed her softly and soothingly as she slowly drifted down from her orgasm. His stiff cock ached, demanding release. It oozed pre-cum constantly. As much as he wanted to bury himself in her, he didn't. Not now. Later. Right now, he was more interested in making things good for her. "What's you wildest fantasy, darling? " Richard whispered in her ear. " Tonight is all about you. Just tell me what it is and it will come true." Going years without real sexual release had given Margaret plenty of time to develop sexual fantasies . She had several favorites, but there was one that she always returned to that was so much of a turn on it almost scared her. She was reluctant to share it with him, though as he might think her perverted. Her hesitation and the look in her eyes did a good job of communicating the thought she didn't put into words. "Come on, sweetheart. " Richard coaxed. "You can tell me anything. I promise you can't shock me." Margaret's laugh was a small, teasing, musical sound. "Don't be so sure." Richard's eyes turned dark with passion, at the sexy tone of her voice. "Tell me." It was almost a command. She sat up, leaning on the side of the tub. He slid over next to her, wrapping her up in an embrace. After a few more sips of wine, Margaret decided to reveal one of her innermost secrets. "I wasn't very popular with men, when I was younger. I never dated, until I met Fred. Even so, I knew more about sex and sexuality than many women do because I read a lot. I had some pretty wild fantasies and expectations going into the relationship. Unfortunately, none of them came true. Fred is ultra conservative. He reacts almost always negatively when I even try to discuss anything sexual." "I promise you I won't react that way." Margaret decided she could trust him. "Fred expects me to be very docile and submissive. He hates it when I get a bit noisy during sex, too. By nature, I'm not completely the submissive type. I'd love to initiate sex and be more in control. " Did he dare hope? Richard thought. Had he stumbled on someone as uninhibited as he was? Aloud, he said, "Sounds good so far." "I'm not into pain, receiving it or giving it. However, some of the lighter elements of BDSM are exciting. Silk scarfs, light bondage, and blindfolds. That type of thing." Richard was growing more and more aroused by the second. He hoped she would continue. Margaret did just that. "Anal sex has been something I've always wanted to try. If you can imagine it, I've probably fantasized about it. I'm definitely willing to try anything once." A huge grin spread across Richard's face. He wouldn't have been any happier if he'd just won the lottery. Margaret was definitely a keeper. He'd marry her, eventually, or he'd die trying to win her love. Chapter 4 Margaret was getting overheated and uncomfortable from being in the hot tub for so long. She stood up. "Let's get out of here.", She said. Richard agreed and stepped out of the tub, extending a hand to help her out. He tossed her a couple of towels. They helped each other dry off, which led to more kisses and caresses. After awhile, Margaret noticed that the wall clock indicated that it was almost midnight. As much as she didn't want to, she said, "It's getting late. I really need to think about getting home. I have a nine o'clock class, and so do you." "You could spend the night." Richard suggested. "I could, but neither of us would get to our classes, in the morning. And, if I did, I'd end up packing and headed for divorce court." Reality intruded like an unexpected, sudden cold shower. Richard sighed. He'd been looking forward to waking up with her, in his arms. His body was still aching from lack of release. He knew Margaret's feelings probably didn't run as deep as his, yet. But, that would change, with time, he hoped. Aloud, he said, "I guess you're right." As she dressed and redid her makeup, Margaret felt like crying. She did not want to go home to Fred, but she knew she had to. She didn't want to end up losing her children, in a bitter custody battle that she could not afford. Her children meant the world to her. Life wouldn't be worth living if she couldn't be a part of their lives. Life wasn't fair, she thought. Margaret's thoughts drifted to Richard. It was amazing how strong her feelings for him had grown in such a short time. She had fallen in love with him. In fact, what she felt for Richard was stronger than what she had felt for Fred, on the day they married. It was like Richard was the other half of her soul. He seemed to complete her in ways Fred never had. Passion's First Time My mind wanders to the first time I ever slid my hands between my legs and discovered the design of my body. I remember my first kiss, soft and innocent as it was. Short sex scenes and pictures flash in my head from movies and magazines I've gotten my hands onto. Sordid fantasies steal my thoughts and all this as I hear the doorbell ring. My heart beats as I open the door and I see you there. Standing tall and confident, a warm smile on your face and eyes that pierce me so. I stare for a moment and then finally, I invite you in. Suddenly the once enjoyed silence of the house feels heavy and thick. I find it hard to breathe but I walk casually behind you as you make your way into the living room. Our small talk gets us through the first awkward moments and well into dinner. As you sit across from me I find comfort looking deep into your eyes and soaking in your face. I feel as if I'm falling off of highest building even though I know my body sits still. A relaxed smile holds my face and masks my aching nervousness. As we move into the living room, I think of how cliche our evening is becoming. I slip a mixed cd into the stereo and sigh as it brings some comfort and familiarity back into my otherwise spinning world. As you sit, laid back on the couch I can't help but fall in love with you all over again. Your simplicity owns me and my body feels as though it were boiling beneath my skin. I've never found jeans and a T-shirt so sexy before. And now as I sit next to you, I feel an intense pulsing between my legs and a deep desire to take your clothes off. You've awakened something in me, I did not know existed. I crawl over and lay across your lap with my arms draped across your neck. You lean in and kiss me softly on my lips, sending electrifying waves through me. I pull closer to you and revel in your warmth. I tense slightly as I feel your hand on my knee, inching its way up my skirt. My blue stretch skirt clings to me but invites your hand to slide underneath making its way toward my thighs. I bury my head in your neck and hold on tight as I part my legs and hold my breath. In perfect timing to our young adult scene you sweetly ask, "Are you sure?" I bite my lip and shake my head, scared but so anxious I could scream. I scoot a little bit closer to your hand. Your soft fingers creep up my thighs trailing goosebumps with each inch. They caress my skin and find their way to the top of my black, thong panties. Slowly you peel them off and with every motion you make, my heart beats faster. I'm losing my control of thought and I feel a fiery passion building deep inside of me begging to be set free. I spread my legs a little wider and push just a little closer urging you on. You place your hand back on my thigh and drag it down to my knee. Disappointed in your direction, I pull my head up and look at you with wonder and trust. You reach under my knees and pick me up. I hold tight against your body as you lead me to the bedroom, my parents bedroom. Gently you lay me down at the edge of the bed so my legs dangle down the side. You lean over me and one by one unbutton my white shirt that outlines my every curve. I shudder as you get closer until you finally part the fabric. You look up at me and smile when you notice my stomach as it rises and falls quickly like my breath and my chest, bare with no bra. My breasts a soft pink with glaring red nipples hard and heaving at the end. Up and down....I'm so excited and frightened and curious all at once. You place your hands on my hips and slide them up. Slowly gracing my skin, touching my most sensitive spots. Your fingers find their way to my breasts and you touch me softly. I close my eyes and take in the moment as you massage and grope my wanting body. Squeezing and feeling as you move over me more and I feel your lips press against mine. This time more persistent and wanting of response. I kiss you back, deep and hungry pulling the very passion out of you. You continue to explore my body as I lift my hips up and rub against your body. We enjoy the moment, slow and simple. My mind no longer thinks complete thoughts, just random and blurred desires as they dance through my body. You reach down and slide off your shirt, pressing your warm, smooth body against mine. I raise my hands to meet you and I run them down your back. I slide them across your chest and down to your stomach. Up and around your arms, feeling every part I can grasp. I roll you over and sit on top of you. I pull the rest of my shirt off and I put my hands on my hips. You put your hands behind your head and just watch me as I trace my fingers over my own body, in all the right places. Small moans escape my mouth as I continue to excite myself. You can feel my warm, very wet pussy against your stomach as I press it into you. I pretend that I am alone to calm my nerves while I enjoy the sensations of my body as it pulsates with lust. I open my eyes and smile at you, you're so sweet and good to me. I slide down your body and slowly unbutton your pants. Pushing them down and leaving you in your boxers. My eyes widen as I see the bulge in your pants and my curiosity takes over any inhibitions I may have had. I pull them down slowly as well, each inch leaving me more and more excited. Finally it overcomes your hard dick and I slide them off easily. You lay in all your glory, unbound in front of me. The feeling is almost overwhelming. I am so unsure of myself and yet so ready to pounce, that I cannot decide what to do. I stare for a minute just taking in the scene and etching it into my memory. I muster up the courage and strength to let my hands move up to your cock. I place my fingers on it, touching it, almost as if to make sure that it was really there for the taking. I grasp it in my hands, holding it and feeling it beneath them. Squeezing and caressing you as I get to know your body. I truly enjoy exploring you as I discover your most sensitive areas and your most treasured spots. You sit back and marvel at my wonder as you also enjoy the process and find yourself sitting, very hard. I move my face closer and take a deep breath. Your smell of sex is so different then mine and yet so intoxicating I breathe it in again. Almost unconsciously I stick out my tongue and taste you for the first time. I let it drag across your skin and the unfamiliar sweet and salty tastes rests in my mouth. I am completely fascinated by you and you laugh inside at my childishness though it excites you to no end. Finally you reach down and grab my waist. You pull me up so that I am on top of you and you kiss me again. I can never get enough of you, you're so sweet and inviting. You pull down my skirt, the last barrier between us and I melt into your arms. Our bodies are so warm together and the sensation is one I've yet to know. We spend a while rolling around the bed, rubbing and touching, kissing and licking. I belong to you and you cherish my every curve. We lay on our sides, kissing softly and I feel your hand make its way between my legs again. This time, you part them a little move closer. I hold my breath and spread my legs, scared and yet so ready for your touch. You run your hands through my small, trimmed red patch and then I feel your fingers trace down to my clean shaven lips. Slowly parting them and caressing them softly. I bite my lip and moan urging you to go on. You twirl your fingers around my clit and I push up to meet your hand. My responses all instinct and I knead my tits with my hands to keep from screaming so loud. Still I moan when you dip your finger inside of me. All the way in pushing through the wetness. You pull it out and taste it and I smile at your intimacy. You push it back in and add another finger. Slowly searching the inside of my body and I crave your touch. After pumping them in and out of me for a while and leading me, but not quite, to a powerful orgasm. You slide them out and replace them with your warm breath. I feel the hot air around my skin and it sends shivers through my body. You kiss the inside of my thighs and slowly work your way toward my beckoning wetness. I tense and shudder as you slip your tongue between my lips. Parting them and lining them. You move slowly and seductively around my clit sending my nerve endings wild. You push your tongue inside, darting it in and out of me. I don't have time to scream, my body erupts and I gasp for air as my body shakes beneath you. My world spins around me and I feel so vulnerable and under your control. You crawl up and kiss me, my sweet taste lingers on your lips and you hold me close. We lay in each other's arms for a moment, you listening to the pounding of my chest, and I remain captivated at your side. I rub myself up against you and my legs feel your hard dick that still beckons to be played with. My hands creep down and I stroke you. Feeling you and holding you, calmly and quiet as we lay here. I love the feeling of your warm body against mine. You gently push me so I am on my back, looking up with honest eyes. You kiss me with passion and lust and I can feel you searching. I take a deep breath and try to prepare myself for what is to come. I'm so scared but I know it is time. I position yourself on top of me and somehow I love the feeling of being in your complete control. You glaze my skin with soft kisses making me writhe under you. I feel you widen my legs and get ready. You look warmly into my eyes, assuring me that you love me. I feel the head of your hard cock at my pussy and you allow it to dip in and then out. You tease me for a while this way and I want you so bad I hardly notice that you move a little further with each thrust. Slowly in...then out. The sensation of your hard dick inside of me is more then I could have imagined as it starts to fill me up. It's not met with much resistance as I've tried to prepare myself for this. You find yourself pushing the last half of your dick inside of me. Sliding inside my warm and wet pussy. At first it feels like you can't go any further and so you lean your weight into me just a little until you seem to push through. As you push through for the first time I scream at the feeling of your cock filling me up. I hardly notice anything else and I push my hips up to meet yours. I want you so bad the feeling consumes me. You keep a slow and steady pace, your cock sliding in and out of me. I wrap my arms around your body and pull you close. With my eyes closed, I hear every little noise, every breath, I feel your skin as it touches mine, I taste your lips on my own. I feel devoured by need to feel you. Slowly you continue to grind against me as you whisper sweet words in my ear. I scream and moan and purr under you and I roll my eyes with pleasure. You watch my body as it experiences this for the firs time and the though excites you. You feel it rise inside and you know you're going to cum. I feel you pick up speed and push a little harder reaching far inside my cunt. Feeling for the end you push harder and harder. My tight pussy sucks you inside me and you groan with passion as you explode and cum deep and hard. The feeling of your cock jerking inside of me and the sounds of your sexy voice send me over the edge and I erupt furiously. My orgasm is so intense I cannot bring myself to make a noise but I cling to you tightly and savor the feeling as it streams through my body. You lay on top of me our breathing labored and heavy. Our bodies moist with sweat and so close I cannot tell where mine begins and yours ends. You whisper your thoughts in my ear and run your fingers through my hair to calm me down. My body is a mix of feelings and emotions and it's so overwhelming I remain still and take it all in. A wear a smile on my face though it does not seem to be nearly as happy as I feel inside, bursting with contentment. As my fingers trail across your skin and yours mine, I'm glad that with you I shared my first time. Passions Ignited --Here's my second piece submitted to this site, and I went a bit more taboo than the last one, by way of blood. And to everyone who reviewed 'Summer Heat', thanks a ton and I'm working on the sequel/second chapter right now, so sit tight. Jenna adjusted the tight clasp of her scarf around her neck and hitched her shawl higher on her shoulders. The wind was cool and her long sleeveless silver dress was scanty protection against the cold. The ride home had given her a chance to think and as she was making her way to the front door, she was still lost in thought. 'I must be crazy. I mean, I just passed up an opportunity back there. I didn't give myself much of a chance to like him and I never gave Mitch the chance to really get to know me but... Oh what the hell. It still wouldn't have worked.' She kicked a stone along the driveway and nearly fell over her high heels. 'Damn stupid shoes! And damn Max too! If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be in this damned situation. I wouldn't be fucking thinking of him when I should be thinking of my date, wouldn't be having these perverted thoughts. And I wouldn't be fucking swearing either!' Seething with anger, Jenna took her shoes off and walked barefoot the rest of the way. The house was quiet now. She carefully made her way to her room, making as little noise as possible. She had decided that a bath would definitely be a fitting end to a disastrous night. She couldn't wait to get out of her clothes and step into her warm, scented bath. Hopefully, it would set her spirits high again. Jenna was so occupied with her thoughts that she didn't notice her brother standing by the window when she opened the door to her room. She dropped her shoes on the foot of the bed carelessly. She slipped the shawl from her shoulders and was about to throw it on the bed along with her purse when she saw him--tall, dark and brooding -- illuminated by the moonlight. She must've jumped a foot. "Jesus, Max, you scared me!" Max didn't say anything. He just stood there, all imposing with his arms crossed over his chest. "It's about time you got home." He surveyed her from head to toe, noticing the silver dress that clung to every delicious curve of her body. Damn lucky bastard. He got to ogle her the whole night! Max swallowed hard at the image of Jenna before him. Her hair was tamed in an upswept 'do. Her neck was bare of any adornment, seeming to tempt any man for a taste of her skin. He tried to force his thoughts away from that line of thought but he was too swept up by his other feelings to care. Jenna threw her shawl and purse on the bed and started to go to him. "Uh, yeah. Dinner was longer than I anticipated." She shrugged her delicate shoulders. "You know how time flies when you're having a good time." She froze in her tracks when he saw Max's arms unfold and his nostrils flare in controlled anger. "So you did have a good time with--what's the name of that little prick--Tommy? Shane? George?" Max's voice was deceptively calm but totally patronizing. "Oh, but I forgot. You didn't tell me his name." He abandoned his position from the window and started towards her. "In fact, you also failed to mention that you were going to be out tonight with some kid that I don't even know." Jenna had never seen Max like this. She's seen him get angry a lot of times but this was the first time he seemed to get angry with her. And over something like this? A date? She backed away, brow furrowed. She was genuinely confused, and more than a bit scared. She knew Max would never hurt her, but this behavior of his was unfamiliar to her. "Max..." Max followed her retreat. "What? Do you have nothing to say?" Jenna felt the wall behind her back. She was trapped. Max caged her with his arms, his hands flat beside her head. "Don't tell me he didn't try anything." Eyes narrowed, adrenaline pumping through her veins, Jenna pushed at his chest. "What business is it of yours if I go out on a date? I don't pry into your love life so don't you dare pry into mine!" "It is *my* business because I'm your brother- look out for you! It's past your curfew. You didn't even ask my permission---" Jenna was angry now, her confusion and fear forgotten. "Permission! Why the hell do I have to ask permission from you? I'm 19, Max. I'm an adult! I can go out with whomever I want, whenever I want without asking you or anyone for permission!" Max backed her up against the wall once again and gripped her jaw, forcing her to meet his hard hazel gaze. "Listen to me," he said in a low, dangerous tone. "I don't like the idea of you going out with some punk. And most of all, I don't like the idea of you keeping things from me." Jenna tugged his hand from its grasp on her jaw, "When did we have to start asking for consent for anything?" she asked, her eyes narrowed in anger. "You're not my keeper! And since when do I have to constantly report in to you for everything, tell you everything? I'm allowed to have my secrets, just as you are." "You *used to* tell me everything, you used to follow me around all day and climb into my arms, beg me to read you a story or play. You used to hang on my every word. I used to be everything to you." "That was a long time ago, Max. I was a child then, and you were almost an adult already, you were my hero. But things change, *people* change. They grow up. And they leave, they stop caring." Max stepped in and pinned her on the wall with his hard body, stopping her from backing away anymore or leaving. He was vibrating with anger and frustration. "You know that wasn't my fault, I was still a kid too, I didn't have a choice Jenna. But I never stopped caring. I *still* care for you, more than you know. And I'm not going anywhere." He pressed his hips hard against her belly. She barely had time to register that action, or to gasp. Then he kissed her. Hard. And Jenna was too stunned to react. Her eyes flew open wide in shock at the initial feel of Max's hard kiss. Then the desire kicked in- before fear, confusion and anger. And the shock of realization of what he was doing, what *they* were doing hit hard. "Are you crazy?" she yelled at him, her fingers touching her lips. "I must be," her brother muttered before capturing her lips again with his own. Jenna closed her eyes at the heat of Max's mouth on her own. It was the most intense feeling she'd ever felt. She forgot how this shouldn't be happening. She forgot everything else except for the feel of Max's lips. Her lips parted on a gasp as he licked them open. Max groaned at the overpowering sensations pouring into him through Jenna's lush lips. He sensed her apprehension but he knew passion would take over soon. He softly nipped her lips and tongued the corners of her mouth, taking advantage of the gasp that escaped her by thrusting his tongue in her mouth. And he gently coaxed Jenna into responding with his tongue, gently tangling his with her own, his hands on her back, gentling her with comforting touches. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, growling when he felt Jenna return it with equal fervor. His hands traveled down to her hips and pulled her against his straining erection. Jenna broke the kiss and made an attempt to stop him. "Don't, Max. We shouldn't be doing this. It's not--" "Stop," Max ordered in a voice heavy with desire. "Stop thinking. Just feel, Jenna. Feel us." Then her brother kissed her again. Jenna's mind rebelled at the assault but couldn't stop, her body was on fire. She was drowning in sensation and all she could do was feel. She opened her mouth wider and accepted the deep thrusts of his tongue. She felt his arousal against her belly and she leaned closer into his embrace, delighting in the feeling of being wanted, being loved. She felt Max's hand come up and cup her breast, rubbing his palm against her hardening nipple. A sharp ache gathered in the pit of her stomach and an answering sensation collected between her legs. Max pulled away, his breathing ragged. He stared at her languorous eyes and swollen mouth and growled, swooping down and attacked the inviting skin of her throat. Jenna threw her head back to give him better access. Max soon busied himself by pulling the straps and the zipper down at the back of the dress, pulling down the front of her dress and feasted his eyes on her breasts. They looked as beautiful and as inviting as the last time he saw them. And her nipples--they were just begging to be touched. He felt his sister clutch his bicep. "Max..." There was uncertainty in her eyes, curiosity and yes, passion. "This will feel good, baby. I promise." He took one tight nipple into his mouth. Jenna swallowed a lusty groan and arched into his touch. Max passed his tongue back and forth, back and forth across her nipple, loving the way they tasted and felt in his mouth. He sucked on her fiercely, sometimes nipping her with his teeth. "Max, please..." Jenna didn't know what she wanted. She wanted him to stop, knew they should stop, and yet, she wanted the sensation to go on. Max transferred to her next breast and lavished upon it the same kind of attention he bestowed on its twin. The throb between her legs grew stronger as she heard the moist suction of Max's mouth on her breast. She wanted more. She gripped the back of his head and forced him more on her breast. Max obliged by sucking harder, making Jenna whimper in pleasure. Max wanted nothing more than to thrust into her tight, warm core. She was so responsive he was ready to come. He straightened up and hoisted her legs around his hips. The generous skirt of her dress parted and all Max had to do was bunch the front part of the dress around her waist to get it out of the way. Jenna was surprised at the sudden movement. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she leant back against the wall. Max thrust his aching erection against her heated core. Even with the layers of denim and lace between them, he could feel her heat soaking up his cock. He wanted to feel that heat. Ripping her panties and throwing the scrap of lace on the floor, he soon filled his palm with her mound and both groaned at the sensation. Jenna couldn't help the sound of pleasure that escaped her throat, nor could she help the thrust of her hips, seeking more contact, more sensation. Max's hand moved, his palm stroking the wet curls at the top of her sex, and his fingers dipping in her warm honey pot. His thumb strayed to her clit and started a rhythmic stroking that sent Jenna thrashing and moaning. "It's okay, baby, it's okay," he soothed her. His fingers parted her wet folds, stroking them more before pushing a finger deep in her core. Jenna pulled away from the contact but Max brought her back, whispering in her ear, "Don't' be scared, darlin'. It's not gonna hurt. Come on, move those hips for me, baby, please." The alien sensation of his finger inside her was soon replaced by desire so sharp, she ground her pelvis against his hand. She closed her eyes and let herself feel. Jenna made a sobbing sound as Max continued to rub the sensitive nubbin between her legs. "Oh, Max, that feels so good. I can't--aah!" Max inserted another finger inside her and that stole her breath. He maintained a steady rhythm, loving the way her muscles contracted around his fingers. 'I wish it was my cock inside you, baby. I want to feel your heat around me. I want to feel you ripple and flow around me. Oh, baby, yes!' Max knew she was close to climaxing. He pumped faster, watching her face for any sign of pain. But all he could see on her flushed face was an expression of pained ecstasy. "That's it, baby. Come on, now. You're almost there. I wanna feel you come around my fingers. That's it." Jenna arched her back as the storm brewing between her thighs finally broke. She screamed in rapture as she pulsed around her brothers' fingers, her hips chasing the waves of her climax. Seeing Jenna come in his arms was pure heaven. The vision of her like that would be forever stamped in his brain. 'You're so beautiful when you come, baby.' He watched her as she gasped for breath, a flush staining her cheeks down to her heaving breasts. He wanted the same ecstasy for himself. He grasped her hips and tentatively, he started to rub his denim-encased cock against her soaking folds, careful not to make her sore. Jenna opened her eyes and soon the haze that clouded her mind started to clear. There was a dull ache between her legs but it was a good kind of ache. The best. She saw Max looking at her with hooded eyes and she realized he hadn't come to his release yet. She felt him thrusting and she answered with a thrust of her own. Soon, their hips were moving in counterpoint to their thrusts. She thought she was beyond sensation now but she was wrong. Another pulse began to beat ever so strongly inside her. She cried out as the rough denim crushed her clit, again and again. She strained against Max, her hard nipples rubbing against his flannel-covered chest as she gave into the desperate, *wrong* desires that had been haunting her. Max pulled her legs tighter around his waist as he moved. He closed his eyes as he felt himself nearing the edge. He felt Jenna's gentle hands stroking his shoulders, his hair, his nape. Then he heard her whisper, "Don't hold back, Max. I want you so much." That did it for him. He thrust once, twice, before he arched his powerful back and roared in orgasm. Jenna enfolded him into her embrace, letting his head rest against her breasts. A moment passed before Max released his hold on her hips and let her legs slide down to the floor abruptly. Confused by the sudden movement, Jenna looked at him and saw the anger still etched in his face. She balanced herself on shaky legs and tried to regain some of her dignity by pulling the front of her dress up. "Max?" she asked shakily. Still conscious of the wetness spreading in the front of his jeans, Max glared at her. "No one else touches you but me, do you hear? Your body responds only to me. If there's one thing that this exercise has taught you, it should be that. You're mine, Jenna. Don't ever forget that." Max turned on his heel and walked out of the room. The minute the door closed, Jenna crumpled on the floor and cried. Passion's Limit Waking in the middle of the night and reaching across the bed sheets seeking out that warmth that only she can create. As fingertips discover those rumpled ridges slightly warmer, a feeling of anticipation begins in the furthest reaches of my mind. Listening for those delicate and steady breaths letting me know my search has not disturbed that gentle slumber she lies with. Continuing on for more of her sweet warmth, I shift ever so slightly towards her body. A low purr escapes my throat before I can suppress it. Oh what she does to me, one look from those jade green eyes of hers and I'm left gasping for my next breath, the velvet soft voice of her pales even the sweetest Siren song. I am lost without her, and with her I am lost in love and desire. Steadily onward my fingertips explore, seeking out to find her body and those succulent and tempting treasures that only a woman can hold over a man, make him hungry for more while he drowns in her excess of passions treats, a man possessed for more. Her body and womanhood calls to me night and day, not a moment am I without her in my thoughts or my vision, and now my touch has discovered such softness and heat, I've found my living goddess. The delights my fingers have hinted upon fuel passions, lusts and strives to greater heights of love. I fell so deeply that all that surrounds me is her warmth. Enveloping me as I draw closer to her. Taking in everything I can and savoring every touch and scent that is only her. Along the back of her thigh, softly my fingers creep over her delicate bottom. I love to cup and pull her closer to me by those lower cheeks just to feel her body respond to the intimacy of the hold. Moving steadily, my hand caresses over her thigh and down over her hip where they meet near the junction of her hidden valley savoring the heat emanating from her flesh, inviting me to move closer to seek out more. Outlining my thoughts for a brief moment, my hand travels over her lower belly where she is all woman, and hesitating while I gather the strength to keep from immediately seeking out her essence and further rewards. I glide my hand up over center and pause over her heart, beating steady and strong, rhythmic in her sleep. Another soft purr leaves my lips, that only seems to show how inflamed my hunger for her is as though I'll never quench my desire for her. I find safety in the feel of her heartbeat. Her body pressed close to mine and I still cannot get enough. I long for her when we are apart and cherish her when we're together. She is my very life, my love, my muse, she is my soul. Increasingly higher my hand traverses over her for more of her pureness. Softly I hear a moan cross her lips, my ministrations have not gone unnoticed least not by her body as she still lies deep within the land of dreams. Cradling her breast tenderly, lightly stroking the sensitive flesh with my thumb. Slowly I feel the desired response from her body as Goosebumps break out and a slight shiver runs through her body. I can hear her breath quicken and deepen from my erotic quest. Leaning closer I place light kiss after light kiss upon the juncture where her neck meets her shoulder. Her silken hair cascades over the pillow creating a dark curtain of curls over white satin such a sweet contrast. Weighing her breast and finding it perfect as always I can't help myself and begin to tweak her rapidly hardening nipple that has been digging into my palm during my exploration. She turns then into my embrace and kisses me deeply, reaching into my lusts and that consuming moment when the World around ceases to exist and all that does is her pleasure, her desire, to give all and receive all until that exploration of sensual ecstasies have been breached with a spilling and mingling of life and love as one. Her voice cries out with mine, professing to all our unending love. Trembling and shivering with the after effects of our pleasures sought and found, I snuggle into her warmth as she cradles me to her bosom for the rest of the night so that neither of us shall ever stray far from each others touch. Then in those moments, that is when you know what is in her heart, what she craves and hungers for, it is our passions limit, when you have given your life and have gained a soul. Passion's New Home Joshua and I have been together for well over a year now, and today we moved into our first apartment as a couple. We're nervous, unsure of where this will lead us, but thrilled to live under the same roof, no longer subject to the constant travel between his apartment and mine. With big hopes for the future dancing in my head, and my mind on what this meant for our relationship emotionally, it had never occurred to me what it might have in store for us in other realms. When you've been together for a while, no matter how much you love each other, no matter how great the sex is, there comes a time when the passion mellows. If the relationship is strong and healthy, you barely notice this ebb. And you never see it coming when the passion you knew comes flooding back. --------------- I squirm, playfully pulling at my restraints, and let the heady memories of earlier in the day wash over me, relishing in the delicious progression from a mundane day to where I find myself now... He had to work today, but I don't have to start my new job for another week; and I luxuriated in bed til noon. I started unpacking some boxes, sorting books onto shelves, stowing our few pots and pans in the kitchen. Kneeling in the middle of our bedroom, unpacking a box of Joshua's things, I found a surprise; a DVD I had no idea he owned. The jumble of pictures and words crowding the covers overwhelmed me for a moment. I've watched some pornography before; hidden camera exhibitions online, the occasional late-night cable diversion. This elicited a new sensation, a feeling of naughty indulgence. Transfixed by the bewitching display of eroticism, I took in every naughty detail. I read captions like "hot tits" and "wet cunts" under my breath, soaking in the explicit words of sexuality that aren't my standard. The slang one doesn't normally use can have a forbidden appeal; if you typically say pussy, cunt sounds much dirtier. If you are used to the words breasts or boobs, tits has an added twist of sexuality. Wrenching my eyes away from the lurid heat of it all, my view flitted to the clock. I stretched, taking a deep breath, trying to understand how I'd sat staring at this rubbish for ten minutes. Exhaling, I noticed a low, heavy pull tugging deep inside me. For an instant, I allowed myself to believe I was hungry. Unconsciously, my fingers strayed to pluck at my nipple through my skintight shirt, a gasp escaping my lips. I rocked gently forward as the aching pull cried out to be quenched. I knew I was fooling myself, that this was a different kind of hunger. And so, clutching the movie in sweaty hands, I crept into the living room. Feeling like a teenager sneaking her first taste of hard liquor, I slipped the disc into the player, glad that we'd already set up our new futon and the entertainment center. I perched apprehensively on the futon, wondering what it would be like. I thumbed the remote, waited a moment for the show to start. The scene opened on a jazz club, dimly lit and full of people - fully clothed. I frowned, confused. Plotline? Story behind sex can be fabulous, but this wasn't exactly Shakespeare, or even Book of the Month Club. Besides, the novelty of such hardcore smut already had me quite worked up. I wasn't in the mood for a story; I craved a much simpler entertainment. I picked up the remote, intending to turn it off. Noticing that heavy pull once more, I stopped. It was telling me that it did not intend to go unanswered, and that these people, while lousy actors, were very attractive. So instead of pressing stop, I found the button to fast forward through the movie. I chuckled at the sight of a couple doing the jitterbug to the live jazz music. When I saw the scene change, and their clothing start flying off, I stopped the fast forward and backed it up a little. With rising curiosity, I watched the woman - a breathtaking brunette, with smoky eyes - take her partner's hand and lead him off the dance floor. His build was strong and muscular; he had very dark hair... the sort of looks I'm attracted to. He reminded me of Joshua, a little. My breathing getting a bit shallower, I found myself hypnotized by the woman's hips swaying as she dragged him away. I longed to be like her; there was such power in being so seductive. It was a power I could sense from the heat in his eyes, a fire that reflected the feeling blossoming about my nipples. The scene cut to a restroom and at once, they were at each other. My heart began to pound at the sight of such passion, such an intense need to have each other right then and there. I tried to recall the last time Joshua needed to fuck me that urgently, had pinned me against the nearest wall, the way the guy onscreen did. Watching them grapple, wrapped in one another, I could feel their heat, feel it as if it flowed out of the television. It was amplifying the hammering of my pulse and I could hear the beat of it, and feel the throb of it, as my blood began to boil. Her hips ground into his, and she slid her hands down his jeans, gripped his ass tightly, and pulled him to her. The sight of hands going down pants made me suddenly aware of how turned on I'd gotten. The heat was growing, becoming a tingling blaze. Not tearing my eyes away for a second, afraid the passion would suddenly go out of the scene, I got up, fumbled blindly with the fly of my jeans. They fell at my ankles, and I dropped back onto the futon, a sigh escaping my lips just as the woman let out a low groan. My fingers massaged my tender, swollen flesh beneath the moist cotton crotch of my panties, keeping my eyes glued to the television. They released their clinch; she gave him a little striptease, working her skirt upward with slow back and forth movements. My hands mimicked her motions, stroking my folds up and down, rocking the pressure from side to side. The mild prickling sensation was growing, deepening into a powerful throbbing. I hungered for it to grow stronger still; I picked up pace, stroking faster and harder, over the whole length of my slit. I didn't dare take off my panties; I'd have to admit I really was getting off on my own boyfriend's smut. The man stroked the swelling of his own loins; watching his own private show, one that was not truly private because I got to peep in on them. I felt my pussy clench at the sight of that, it ached to have a hard cock like that. I could not wait until Joshua was home, so he could take care of my swelling, insatiable desire. I moaned in unison with the man onscreen when the "curtain" rose to unveil her hairless, pantiless pussy; and he sank to his knees before her. His lips zeroed in on her clitoris, quite prominent without pubic hair hiding anything. My fingers hovered at my own swollen, eager clit, and then kneaded gently in small circular motions, eliciting a moan from my own lips. My panties were clammy with my wetness. I watched him bring his tongue out of his mouth, saw him dip just the tip between her pussy lips. They glistened with desire just as I knew mine did, hidden away underneath my panties. Oh, how I longed to touch that silky wetness. But I shouldn't... Joshua would be home soon, and I had to feel him there, to show him how horny I was. For now, I would only watch, and enjoy. The lover's ministrations returned to her clit; as he nibbled that sensitive little knot, he plunged one finger deep into her. She cried out with pleasure, and it was more than I could take. With wild abandon, I yanked my panties down, kicking both jeans and underwear off. As I did, I peeled off my tight black tank top, exposing my breasts. I drove my middle finger into my tight, juicy pussy, and found myself moaning in a rhythm very similar to that of the woman being drilled by her beau's fingers. It was as if I was there with them; it was as if I was them. I could feel his finger pounding in and out of me; two of them now, harder, and faster, coaxing my g-spot with titillating assaults as the warmth of my arousal grew, spread upward like fire. My free hand flew to my breast, groping tightly. I needed to feel that fire overtake me, my fingers closed around my nipple and-- The phone rang, startling me out of my lusty reverie so badly that I fell right on the floor, having squirmed so much that my ass was already on the edge of the futon. I scrambled to my feet, feeling dirty getting caught wet-handed, yet at the same time it made me grin. Disoriented by the new living space, I wondered where the phone was hiding, and had to locate it by tracking the impatient ringing. Spying it on a stack of boxes to be unpacked, I made a grab for it. Gasping out a ragged "Hello," I answered the fool thing at last. "Hello, Erin, sweetie," the sound of Joshua's rich, familiar voice washed over me, like a full body massage, like a bear hug. That happy jolt of recognition soothed me, made me less jangled from the abruptness of the call. "I just called... Well, ok, I called because I miss you already. How goes the unpacking and such?" "Believe me; I've been missing you too. The unpacking, uh... well, I've definitely found places to put things," I told him, trying to ignore the way the swinging phone cord teased across my sensitive nipples. "I just... just took a little break to watch some TV." "Yeah," he replied, laughter in his voice, "So I hear. It sounds like we have some... enthusiastic neighbours. I'd have wanted to hear something else, too. Y'know, eventually." I could feel heat rushing to my face, and I knew I was blushing. To my dismay, this only served to make me very conscious of my own nakedness. I couldn't speak, wouldn't know what to say if I could. All I could get out were quiet little stammers. "Erin, are you alright?" I could hear the concern in his voice, and suddenly I realized how foolish it was to be shy about this with Joshua. Laughing, I explained to him that the noises weren't neighbours, they were his own porn, and as a matter of fact, I was naked because he'd interrupted me masturbating quite unabashedly on our new couch. A long pause. "Oh," he croaked out, his voice thick. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath. "I, uh... 'Rin, that's so hot," that last all rushed and whispered, and I knew it was because at work he really shouldn't say these things. Alone in our little apartment with just the television's soft moaning, I grinned to myself, gently bit my lower lip. "Really?" I asked shyly. "God, yes," he replied. In a low voice, he asked "Are you always this naughty when I'm not around?" "Of course not... usually I'm much naughtier than this!" I teased him. "Oh, really?" he challenged, his voice louder, and more spirited, knowing that these words meant nothing out of context. His boldness threw me, I'd only been playing. I didn't quite know what to say to that, really. "Oh... you know. Dirty, naughty... uhm, things." "You mean like you are right now?" I flushed, wondering what he thought I was doing. "It's not fair to leave me hanging," he continued, "You just have to tell me now." "I.. er, I was just teasing you, sweetheart. I'm really not a naughty girl, I'm afraid. Sorry to disappoint, but I'm just boring old me." "Don't be silly, you're not boring at all. Take your organization skills, for example," he began in a playful tone that made me know he was going somewhere with this. I could practically see his eyes sparkling with merriment. "I'm really quite interested to know where it is you've been putting things. I wouldn't want to come home and find that I'm lost, that you put things in unusual places." Christ, he really knew how to get a lot of mileage out of what he could manage to say at work. Only I knew what he was really asking, I'm sure any co-worker who might have heard thought nothing of the conversation. "Well, let me see," I began, doing my best to tease him back, though I could tell he'd gained the upper hand in our clandestine flirtations. "I put that movie of yours in the DVD player... it seemed like a reasonable place for it, after all." "Of course, of course," he played along, "But that darned thing has that strange malfunction, you know..." "Yes, that odd thing where it plays the DVDs you put into it," and continued, playing along with where he lead the conversation. "And so, what on earth was I to do? I couldn't exactly turn it off, now could I?" "Of course not," he agreed, "But Erin... what did you do, then?" "I watched them fuck," I certainly didn't have to dance around with careful language. There was a short pause; I presume Joshua's thoughts were running wild just then. "That's... generally what I do, yes." Another pause, as he regained composure from my unexpected directness. "Tell me, my sexy girl," his voice dropping low and sensual again, "What did you do about it?" "Hmm?" I asked vaguely, reverting to shyness. "Did it get you wet!" his voice a strained growl now, it was not a question so much as a demand. He did not take well to teasing, I should have known better than to push it. "Soaking wet. Almost as wet as you make me... perhaps even a bit wetter," I knew I was being wicked to work him up so, but maybe he was right; maybe I really was a naughty girl. "Oh, is that so? Maybe I'll have to remind you of that later. Wear you out so you'll regret you even suggested that," I shivered in anticipation at his promise... or was it a threat? He continued, "You... just go back to what you were doing, for now," I pictured him glancing up from the phone, worried some one might hear, keeping his words vague. "And I'll be home just as soon as I can to show you just exactly what I mean. Let me see if I can finish off, er, finish up here early, ok?" My whole body yearned to get back to what I had been doing; I could feel the delicious dull ache of my swollen pussy, tugging at my attention. We said goodbye, our voices shaking slightly with hormones and fantasies. I sprawled on the futon, lying on my back. The conversation had left me freer, more relaxed. My eager fingers slipping between the folds of flesh, I found that the intervening time had also left me dryer than before. This discovery was all the encouragement I needed, and I plunged two fingers into my pussy. My fingers strained for the irresistible wetness, and my pelvis bucked wildly against my hand, craving deeper penetration. I quaked all over with pleasure, threw my head back as a wave of intensity washed over me. As it subsided, I turned so I could see the television. The lovers were in a different setting now. She was buck-naked except for her elaborate shoes, and he was somewhat more clothed, his shirt unbuttoned, tie askew, and otherwise naked. They were in an office, and he'd bent her over the desk, her breasts pressed against its' glass top, making them seem larger, fuller. I withdrew my hand from my pussy, clasped my own breasts one in each hand. They sat nicely in my hands, just the right size. Behind her, his hips worked hard as he slammed in and out of her pussy. He had a well-toned ass, and I was mesmerized by the way the muscles rippled and dimpled his rear as he kept on fucking her harder and faster. A gruff sound of exertion accented each thrust into her. Eager to feel this way as well, I slipped my two fingers back inside myself, groaning with pleasure. The camera angle switched from his ass to a close-up shot of their screwing then, and I gasped aloud as I saw the size of him. Feeling my pussy clench around my fingers from the very sight, I craved to be filled the way she was. Slipping my fingers out, leaving my pussy squeezing tightly around nothing, I rubbed vigorous circles around my clit, working myself up more, getting myself juicier. Feeling that perfect pain start to well up, I knew that I was close, and that if I did not stop this frantic kneading, I would climax. A desperation for the pleasure not to end threatened to overwhelm me, and I switched back to pumping my fingers in and out of my soaking pussy. Jealous of such a deep fucking with a prick so large, I used three fingers, stretching myself like I almost never do. My breath was ragged, and I was torturously close now. Oh, how I didn't want my fun to end. Yet I ached to feel that intensity that I knew so well. So I drove my fingers as deep as I could once, twice, then one time more, breathlessly caressing my g-spot with the tips of my fingers. The need for release overpowered me then, and I withdrew. Harder, faster, I rubbed my clit. The rush of sensitivity was welling up again, as if it had never subsided. Not daring to disturb the delicate balance of pressure and movement on my clit, I let my other hand grasp a nipple, now raw and very sensitive from so much fervent touching. Just the slightest touch elicited a tiny wail - all the sound I could manage, so short of breath. In response, I sped up the stimulation on my clit, moving so frantically that my arm ached. I didn't care, the pain was worth it; pain was good. I seized my sensitive nipple in a powerful grip that sent a shockwave through me, and left me breathless. Within seconds, the wonderful sensations ricocheting through my body burst outward from my clit, and I screamed aloud with the release of it. I'm not sure how long I lay on the futon, trembling in dreamy, happy way. I remember being vaguely astonished at how loud I'd been, but simply not caring. By the time Joshua returned from work, I had managed to compose myself enough to turn off the TV, and wash up a bit. I was in the bedroom, just slipping into my favourite red dress. I wanted to be wearing something a bit sexier when he got home; I knew he'd be anxious for an evening of romance. The unexpected sound of the door made me jump, as I'd been alone with the quiet of the apartment for some time. I rushed out of the room to meet him, forgetting that I hadn't finished doing up the front of the clingy, form-fitting dress. "Well, hello there!" he said, grinning at my state of undress as I threw my arms around him in a big hug. I looked down, and realized how much the dress still left revealed. Giggling, I informed him that that wasn't intentional, and joked that he'd been sending me subliminal messages the whole way home from the office. He tickled me in the ribs, making me squeal girlishly. I put up my hands in a sign of surrender. "I give, I give. It wasn't you; you're not really that sneaky. It was just that I was so eager to see you that I dropped what I was doing. Luckily for you, what I was doing happened to be getting dressed." I kissed him, and whispered in his ear, "But I know you were thinking about me naked the whole way home." "I was not," he protested. "Oh, really?" "Really. I was only thinking about you naked part of the time. The rest of the time you were all trussed up in black lace." I giggled, and wondered how he hadn't driven off the road. Then I noticed a large brown bag on the counter, which he must have just brought in with him. Looking significantly from the bag to Joshua and back again, I asked, "Been doing a little shopping, huh? Got a whole bag full of wild sex gear just because you found out your girlfriend was watching your porn?" I tried to keep the concern out of my voice, but I have to admit it was a pretty big bag and I was a little afraid I'd created a monster. "No," he laughed, "That's just dinner. I stopped at that deli on the corner. Get your mind out of the gutter, honey." "Ahhhh, I see," I replied, feeling a bit silly. "So you would never, ever dream of buying me a gift of a sexual nature, huh?" I teased him, taking the plastic containers of food out of the bag one at a time, laying them out on the counter. "Nope, never. I think of you like a sister," he replied, teasing right back. "Hey, why don't you let me get this stuff ready? You go finish getting dressed." He smiled, steering me toward the bedroom and giving me a playful little spank. "Go on, get yourself all purtied up. All the better to, you know, work up an appetite for this feast, right?" Passion's New Home I smiled back, and kissed him on the cheek, letting him have his way. I certainly didn't mind him helping with dinner, and after all, I hadn't been finished getting dressed when he came home. Back in the bedroom, I was buttoning up the rest of the dress, wondering what to wear to show off my legs. With all these boxes still to be unpacked, I wasn't sure where any of my nylons were, but I felt a fancy dress deserved stockings. Then I remembered that as I'd been packing away the last of my things, I had come across a pair of black fishnets I'd bought a while ago, for a weekend getaway. Plans had changed at the last minute, and the stockings had never been worn. As I recalled, they were right near the top of that box, too! Excitedly, I opened up several boxes, trying to find the one I'd stowed the stockings in. Locating them, I ran my fingers over the package, knowing how sexy they'd look. I pulled them out of their plastic wrapping and started to get into them. I soon saw that first I'd have to take the dress off again, as it was so closefitting. I shimmied out of it, and tried the stockings again. I wriggled and stretched, carefully smoothing the decadent mesh along one leg, then the other. I made sure the intertwining lace of the garter was smoothed against my thighs, the lacy belt accenting the curve of my hips. Looking in the mirror, a devilish thought occurred to me. I slipped my panties off, careful not to muss the fishnets. My fingers hovered on the clasp of my bra for a moment, debating. "Erin?" Joshua called out questioningly, "Are you nearly ready, sweetheart?" That decided it. "Almost; be with you in a minute," I replied, and removed my bra as well, dropping it to the floor. I ran my fingers through my hair, fluffing it up a bit. I applied just a smidgen of scarlet lipstick, looked myself over appraisingly one last time, and smiled. Satisfied that I was the very picture of sensuality, I stepped out of the bedroom, to find him in the living room. His back was to me, preoccupied with folding the futon out. I smiled, glad our minds were in the same place, and sauntered up behind him. He was leaning down, adjusting some small detail on the futon, so I had to bend down a bit to kiss him on the cheek. With a happy murmur, he turned to look at me. At the sight of me, a low gasp escaped his lips, and I could see the desire build in him, knowing how to read his body language after so many happy months together. "You look incredible, honey..." he said, his eyes devouring me with a sparkling desire that I hadn't seen in them for some time. A thrill went through me under his loving scrutiny; I smiled coyly at him, did an enticing little spin for him so he could see me from all angles. I sashayed out of his reach, in a move calculated to still be near him, but with room enough to show off for him. Catlike, I stretched and lifted my arms over my head, resting my fingertips on the support beam in the middle of the room that we had thought was so ugly. Continuing the graceful movement, I raised my back and shoulders upward as I stood on my toes, then brought them slowly down again, creating a lovely curve with my body. "Such art," he breathed. I peered over my shoulder at him with a questioning look. "Your ass; it's downright artwork, you know that? And you've finally found a suitable frame." I laughed, realized he was right as I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glass of the entertainment center. Black lace really did make the perfect frame for artwork such as an inviting alabaster backside. He took me in his arms then and laid me down gently onto the mattress, not much more than a very large, overstuffed pillow. Resting my head on a soft cushion, careful not to pull a single strand of my long brown hair, he then took each of my hands in his. He pulled my left hand to him, roughly, hungrily; bit at the supple flesh of my wrist. As he did this, his left hand trapped my hand firmly against the wooden armrest. He pulled his lips away from my wrist, showing the skin that was wet and shining with saliva, bright red from teethmarks and suction. In one fluid movement, he brought my hands together over my head, pinning them now with one hand, and swept a length of nylon rope off the floor. We'd used it during the move, securing boxes in the truck; it would serve a much less utilitarian purpose now. A swell to my lust and my ego, matching the gently growing swell nestled between the fishnet. I squirm, playfully pulling at my restraints, and I'm sure I look damned striking, as my skin is so pale and the couch is black, and very new. With the added contrast of the black of the fishnets, it must be a sight to behold. Or be held as the case may be. Joshua sees my wriggling, and snags my nipples between his fingertips, biting teasingly on the left one, and tweaking the other, making me writhe. Freeing my left nipple from his firm, talented lips, he grasps it between strong thumb and forefinger. He kisses me just lightly on the lips, with the tenderness I love so much about him. In that brief moment, he catches my gaze. Without words, he tells me to be a good girl, to endure his teasing, to enjoy it, to get all wet for him. I cannot help but flick my tongue at him seductively, in a small act of rebellion. We love our games of Master and Slave, but roles go both ways and the domme in me lashes out momentarily to remind him the teased can tease back. He closes his eyes, imagining my expert tongue on his erection. With this extra fan to his flames, he uses his own expert tongue to trace a long, slow line down my neck, across my collarbone, circling, briefly encompassing a nipple, and then downward still, diagonally across my trembling belly, to nibble, suck, titillate the sensitive skin closer and closer still to my awaiting pussy. Things are starting to heat up, in that torturously slow way he has. Joshua shows me a new toy he'd bought for me a while ago, but hadn't had the nerve to give me. It clips to his finger, and has many enticing settings. Clicking the button to the "tease" setting, he turns the power to a fairly low level and strokes my pussy with it while licking my clit. The toy pulsates with a slow building intensity that pauses just when you least want it to. This works me up easily with the way it keeps me lingering, hungering for more of the sweet convulsions it produces in me. As things get hotter, he turns the strength of the vibe up, starts rubbing a bit deeper and faster. I gasp and writhe in response, the lust growing in me. He switches to a stronger vibrator, a bullet style one with more power than any toy I've ever experienced. He slips it into me, licking my pussy all over, sucking on my clit, and pinching my nipples not nearly enough - not because he doesn't know how I like it, but because he does. He still manages to keep me hanging, even while working other areas over very thoroughly. After allowing me to relish what he lavishes on me for a little while, he disengages tongue and toys, and gets up. Tied down as I am, I can't see what he is doing... when he comes back he has one of my other toys, a longer, more phallic vibrator. He doesn't turn it on, and makes sure that I know that by stroking the soft plastic against my inner thighs. With a deliberate slowness, he slips the toy deep into my pussy. He kisses my clit, and just as he does this, he rockets the power on the engorged toy to its' maximum power. I moan, and grind into the motion, yearning to feel the sensations deeper inside of me. Loving the dance of it all, I wonder what he's going to do next. He slowly brings it out of me, and slides the tip onto my clit... and then he thrusts his dick into me, deep, and hard. It's so unexpected, and so good that I arch my back as I cum, squeezing him tightly. Yet as quickly as he started this, he stops. He pulls himself out of me, my pussy practically crying out in surprise. Gratefully, hungrily, I accept the vibrator back into my pussy. My back arches again, as the impulse to reach down and guide the toy for myself is met by my restraints. And now I see why he stopped as quickly as he started... he wasn't going to start fucking me yet, he was making an already appetizing treat yet more enticing. He moves up the mattress on his knees, towards my eager, waiting lips. He teases me for a moment or two, letting my lips have just the tip, and then he pulls away. Before long, he can't tease anymore; my eagerness and sheer lust are taking him over just as he's taken me over. His cock is at the back of my throat now, and I'm sucking steadily, all my desire channeled to my mouth. My tongue works to keep up with the suction, delights in the melding of the taste of my juices on his dick. He moans softly, and it's clearly all he can do to keep one hand lightly resting on the vibrator, so that it stays in me through waves of ecstatic clenching. I work his cock over, stroking every contour with my tongue, my lips, the whole of my mouth. With my hands restrained, the sensation of all that sensitive, stimulated skin inside my mouth is even stronger than ever. It's all that I get to touch it with, and I want it so badly. Still, I know he wants me too; he's thrusting more, and deeper than he ever does. His eagerness feeds my hunger to devour him, which in turn increases his erection all the more. Every bit of me is tingling now, my nipples, my clit, my toes... all feel as if they're afire. Then slowly, agonizingly, yet with love... the thrusting slows; the heat in his eyes dissipates into a hardened look of lusty purpose. It feels like hours between when I realize he's stopping this glorious blowjob, and when he gently slips out between my lips, sweetly allowing me a moment to linger. I kiss the tip of his penis, making him tremble. He slips the vibrator out of my pussy now as well, turns it off. At the same time, he bends down, and kisses me deeply. When we break for air, he moves down my neck, showering my neck and shoulder with kisses and nibbles, playing to my vampire fetish. He whispers in my ear that he's going to untie me now, he wants me to be able to hold him, spank him, run my fingers through his hair. Tenderness again, yet something about how he says this to me feels a like an order to please him... all the more erotic. Now that my bonds are free, I wrap my arms about his neck, pulling him close for another passionate kiss I've been longing for. As we kiss, he slides into me, and I have to pull away from the kiss, gasping with pleasure. My neck bared, he bites it passionately, and fucks me harder, faster, so that I'm gasping for air, my skin tingling with the heat of an approaching orgasm. Such buildup has left us both more aroused, more deeply aware of each other's need, and each other's sensuality than ever before. The next few minutes are an explosion of moans and sensation, happiness and tenderness. Faster than usual, he is climaxing. I can't always feel his cum inside me very distinctly. Tonight though, his orgasm reflects the mood of the encounter beautifully... very powerful, and so hot I can feel the heat of it even deep inside my pussy that has plenty of warmth of its own. The sensation of this is so wonderful, so sensual, that almost instantly I'm climaxing as well. And we wrap our arms around each other, moaning, writhing, gasping for breath, both orgasms feeding off each other, becoming long, extended, and utterly fulfilling. Collapsing into a tangle of limbs, panting for breath, we gaze into each others eyes in a way that makes time cease. Amid giggles and fond touches, the language of afterglow, I realize that we are going to be very happy in our new home. Passions of a Caged Bird Part I -------------- I was on the train when I first saw him, his dark eyes brooding and intentional, and his hair disheveled. It was a tuesday, and the rain and fog had left a mysterious and homesick gloom in the air forcing the streets to almost be abandoned. However, the train was warm, and I was grateful to be sheltered from the rain and the emptiness of this howling city. My coffee was bitter, more so than usual, so I began using it as a generic hand warmer as I watched the approaching station swallow me whole. We slowed to stop, and I braced myself for the chill as the doors slid open. Almost instantly, a gust of piercing cold hit me and I tucked myself into my thin coat for as much warmth as it could muster. Poor thing. It was more used to an occasional light sprinkle or shielding me from the morning air, but with the heavy downpour of rain and non-stop cold, it barely kept me from freezing. Oh well. I guess I should've bought warmer clothes already. But as I watched the train doors let in almost visible puffs of frigid air, I sank back into my thin coat and knew I wouldn't go out there to shop any time soon. Just as the doors were about to slide shut, a man practically threw himself inside, causing other passengers to give a quick look of either concern or disdain before returning to whatever task they were so enthralled in before interruption. The man leaned against the wall, panting and closing his eyes, giving me a chance to get a good look at him. He wore a long black coat that looked much warmer than mine and had probably escaped from some parlour in Victorian London. His hair was jet black and hung around his face in a messy but fond way, and complimented his somewhat tall and slim figure. Normally I wouldn't stare so long, but as I followed the lines of his face continually, I found I couldn't look away. His brow was stern, but still retained some level of innocence, perhaps caused by his youth. He looked to be in his twenties, and although he looked youthful, he seemed to carry some kind of weight that comes with old age. I was so compelled by this creature, I jumped when he opened his eyes, revealing beautiful black oceans that I had to tear myself away from. Trying to recover from impolite staring, I bussied myself with sipping the bitter coffee and gazing out the window as the ground began to speed up. I could feel his eyes, like black lasers, burning into my skin, and I forced myself to look away. Painful minutes went by with me staring out the gloomy window, and he staring at some part of me. I could feel his eyes like fire, scanning over parts of my body, and I wondered if I had finally gone crazy. Two years since my last date, and not one phone call or one night stand since. I just didn't need a boyfriend. They're messy and I came here for school, which was a chance I couldn't risk for some boy. I declined to attribute the lack of dates with my uncanny and awkward demeanor, or the fact that my choice in men had always been poor. Ranging from psychopaths to cheaters, I had dated them all. After highschool, I had taken a year off, which rolled into two, and were filled with more men than I want to admit. This was my chance to focus on myself, to better my education and career. And yet, I couldn't stop picturing the man leaning against the door watching me. It gave me chills. Finally, I buckled beneath the pressure and stole a glance at the man. His eyes met mine and in a panic, mine darted away and back out the window again. Well, if he wasn't engaged before, he certainly was now. I steadied my breathing as I heard slow footsteps wander from the door and close in on my seat. Gulping, I reminded myself; No Boys. He threw his body on the seat beside me as though it weighed a ton. I debated whether I should ignore such an obnoxious entry, but instead stammered, "You can sit there." Instantly I felt foolish and returned to staring outside, and fiddling with my coffee. I watched his reflection in the window. His movements were dramatic, and his dark features drew me in as his pale face broke into a smile. He chuckled. I felt a wave of nerves course through my body at the sound,and forced my breathing steady. "You can sit there too." His voice was smooth and deep, and I melted beside him. However, in an attempt to conceal my nerves, I looked at his face and glared. Once again our eyes met and I looked down. I noticed he smelled like cigarettes and cologne, and found the mixture oddly enticing. We rolled off in a brief fit of silence. His presence beside me filled me with nerves, and the pressure to speak was crippling. Unfortunately, as previously mentioned, I have awful and debilitating awkwardness that left me no words to say, and no comfort to be okay with silence. I settled with glancing at his pale hands, which rested between us, and biting my lip furiously. My mind wandered as I thought of his hands, his thick fingers, and how cold they would be running up my thighs... "So besides staring at strangers on trains and sitting in silence, what do you do?" Startled, and embarrassed by my brief erotic fantasy, I shifted my body to face him. His face was even more beautiful up close, and I found myself beginning to slip into a voyeuristic erotic wasteland. However, this light conversation starter threw my poor social skills over the edge and I began to mentally panic. Words. Where were the words? He watched me struggle for a split second, before a change came over his face. His eyes became dark and determined, his mouth lifted slightly on his right side, and he leaned his face closer. Having had my words abandon me, I helplessly settled with meeting his gaze, and holding it for as long as he would allow. I tried to pull myself away from the deepness within them, but a pain so deep lured me closer, and I found myself utterly obsessed with what could have caused it. I must have looked like a psycho for staring so intensely, for he quickly leaned back in his seat and looked away. His hands left the armrest and fled to his pocket, where he conjured a cigarette and a lighter. Shocked, I looked around at the sparse community of train riders, and at the no smoking sign above the door. "I don't think you can do that. We're on a public train you know." My words came back, and I was more grateful for them than I had been for anything in my life. He laughed as he exhaled and turned to face me again. " You seem to have a thing for telling me what I can and can't do." Around the train, people began turning their heads and grumbling. Afraid someone might approach us, my words came out in a flurry. "It's not that, it's just look." I pointed to the sign. " No smoking. You're going to get kicked off the train. Or someone could come over here and beat you up or something, I don't know. You should put that out." "I like it when you say shouldn't instead of can't." He tucked his cigarettes back into his coat pocket. "But if someone comes over here and beats me up, then they come over here and beat me up." He took a long drag and exhaled slowly. I watched the smoke swirl around the seat in front of me, which was luckily empty. Astonished and oddly unfazed, I gathered my bags and prepared for departure. " If you don't care about getting beat up, that's on you. I get off at the next stop, and I'm not a part of this." He snickered as he casually closed in on another drag. All of the sudden, his hand leapt from his pocket to mine, which were resting on my bags. They were cold, and large and instantly upon touch, I felt my stomach turn upside down with butterflies. They felt exactly as I thought they would, and the image of them making contact with my bare body flashed through my mind once again. I was in a dangerous position. I could feel myself catching feelings for him, and I hated myself for it. It was as if I had been two years sober from a terrible and highly addictive drug, and in an instant, succumbed to my passions, leaving me a vulnerable addict once again. The worst part was, I knew he was no good. From his moment of entry he had presented himself as a carefree, rough guy with little to no regard for those around him. This revelation left me angry with him, for taking my sobriety and not even following through. However, as I shivered beneath his touch, I found I didn't have the capacity to harness any anger against him. I was under his full control. "Do YOU want me to extinguish it?" His smooth voice rumbled. As I attempted to summon words from my slow and unwielding brain, a man stood up as an answer. "HEY! You can't smoke in here man." His hand never left mine, and he gave me a look that demanded an answer. Unsure, I stammered that yes, I would like him to put it out. He gave me a slight smile and looked up at the man standing up. He wore a long Seahawks jersey covered by a red windbreaker. His dark skin reflected the train lights, that created a harsh and somewhat intimidating atmosphere. "Look at that sign dawg. If you don't put that out, I'm going to come on over there and make you." Sarcastically, the man next to me raised his hands as if he were going to be shot at. He then slowly lowered them to suffocate the cigarette on the armrest by the aisle. The other man sat down as people throughout the train grumbled in agreement. "Learn how to fucking read, kid." People turned their heads and returned to normal. I shifted my body to face him again, and this time, he followed my lead. He smirked. "What was that about?" I asked, as condescending as I could muster. Once again, The train began to slow, and my heart sank. What a heartbreaking, sobriety destroying, short, frustrating fling. "What was what about?" His half smile matched with his piercing eyes forced me to avert my gaze once again. As we came to a halt, I met his eyes one last time. "It was nice to uh meet you." I stuttered and got prepared to stand up. He extended his hand in a sarcastic, yet coldly serious way. Once again, our hands met and I forced myself to stand up. I was too far in already, and there was no way anything was happening. His hands felt like a cold reminder of that. I walked solemnly to the doors and felt the frigid air wrap itself around me. I heard them slowly close, and it marked an official separation. I sighed as I began to make the freezing trek to my apartment, which luckily was nearby. It wasn't raining yet, but the air was heavy with it, and I quickened my pace. As I left the station and emerged on the cold pathway to my home, I heard footsteps behind me clunking heavily on the concrete. Curious, I turned my head slightly and saw the man from the train walking with his head down and wrapped in cigarette smoke. My heart leapt Was he following me? I couldn't begin to imagine why, and yet I had this funny feeling that he probably was. Temporary fear sent bursts of adrenaline throughout my shivering body, and I quickened my pace. I may have bad taste in men, but I wasn't stupid either. Suddenly all of my childish fears of walking alone at night surged through my mind, and I forced myself to walk even faster. My apartment was around the corner, it wouldn't be long... Grateful to be alive and unmolested, I shoved the key in the door and entered my dark and comely apartment. It felt good to be home. I threw my bags and keys on the table and made my way to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, turning on most of the lights along the way. It was warm and cozy, but I was slightly damp from the intense humidity outside. I turned the kettle on and made my way to the bathroom for a nice long shower, and hopefully to wash away some of the confusing emotions that had racked my brain. My roommate was away at some spiritual buddhist retreat, and I was glad to have the whole apartment to myself. She was a fellow college student who paid her way by writing informational articles for a website about clean vegan eating. She had short blonde hair she wore in mini pigtails, and large grey eyes. I had met Mariah at a welcoming assembly of freshman, and we shared the same age, which was old for a freshman. She was a great roommate, and she alway made food, but I was happy to be alone tonight. Although my rich fantasies replayed themselves constantly in my mind, I felt more free from the man's grasps than I had felt on the train. His face remained vivid in my head, but I had separated myself from it, and forced other thoughts and images into my head. I took a long, hot shower that made the walls sweat, and my skin turn pink. It felt refreshing and wonderfully clean. The kettle, which had been screaming for a good five minutes was louder than ever, and I wrapped myself in a towel to rush to its rescue. As I violently turned the stove knob off, I heard another sharp buzz come from my door this time. I paused. My circle of friends at this point was beyond slim, and I couldn't think of anyone it could be besides a neighbor. My heart began to pound. A silent thought crept up on me and whispered that it could be the man from the train. It couldn't have been hard to follow me here, and I didn't attempt to cover my tracks. I waited for the door to buzz again. Here I was, standing in the kitchen in a dripping towel, waiting for my fantasy stalker to ring my bell and invite himself in. I realized I had wanted him more than I thought. I sighed. Either way, I should check to see what it was. I ran to the bathroom once again to grab my robe and slippers, and grudgingly made my way to the door. I swung it open, and was surprised to find no one there. I looked up and down the hallways, which I discovered were empty. As I was about to close the door unsatisfied, I looked down and saw a small wooden box with a black ribbon. Once again, I looked up and down the hallways, but no one was there. I leaned down and picked it up. It was fairly light, but I could tell the wood was real. I was nervous. One too many episodes of Lifetime had convinced me that I could blow up or be poisoned or kidnapped at any given moment. Hesitantly, I brought the box inside the apartment, and bolted the doors shut. The wood was smooth. I ran my hand along the edge several times, enjoying the feeling of the glossy wood before pulling the ribbon and slowly opening the box. Inside, on a pillow of black satin laid a necklace. Well, it looked to be more of a choker, as it could only fit snuggly around the neck with little room for movement. It was silver, and in the center was a keyhole. I picked the necklace up and turned it over in my hands. Inside of the box, on top of the little pillow was a note. I grabbed it quickly and turned it over. From the guy on the train, See you soon. I gulped. The message was foreboding, and sent both fear and satisfaction throughout my body. I took the necklace out again with my heart racing. There was no key for the necklace, rendering it unwearable, but it was beautiful to look at. I may have fucked up this one, big time. He wasn't only a careless rebel, he was also a stalker. A beautiful, mysterious, captivating stalker, but none the less, frightening. I put the necklace back and placed it on the table. I turned back to the door, to make sure it was locked, before dreamily wandering to bed, where I lay, fantasizing all night. Part II ----------------- I worked at a bookstore about four blocks from where I lived, and was there when I wasn't at school. It was called Charlie's Choices: Used books and more, and it was almost always deserted. I enjoyed the quiet and excessive time alone though, as it gave me time to study for my classes, and sneak in a few recreational books as well. Outside, it was raining furiously, and the windows were so foggy, I couldn't see out of them. I had two hours left on the clock, and I had just finished sorting the new books onto the shelves, leaving me with two hours for study, or relaxation. I chose the latter, and laid back behind the counter, shielding my face with a copy of Jane Eyre. The days following the night I received the necklace were bland and much less frightening or exciting than I had subconsciously hoped. No strange bump in the night or feet behind me, but the beautiful man with estranged tastes still resided heavily in my mind. I thought I saw him everywhere; on campus at the cafeteria, walking home I thought I saw him in the park, on the train, at coffee shops. His features turned up all around me, and I could feel myself slowly becoming crazy. I both longed for his touch and presence, and longed to never make contact with him again. He had done a number on my comfortable lifestyle without men, and I was still spinning in his words. I allowed myself to become enthralled in Jane Eyre, as to gift myself some sanity. The rain created a comfortable symphony, letting myself tune out any outside noise, and I became lost in the world of ink and paper for a few hours. As closing time approached, I began to pack my bags and prep the store for closing. Just as I was getting up to lock the doors, someone came in, bringing with them a pool of rain. I looked up, and gasped at whose eyes met mine. It was the man from the train, his hair a wet mess, and his smile half lifted. " Hello you." He ran his fingers through his jet black hair, and I only melted a little. "Excuse me, but who are you?" I asked, as if I hadn't memorized his features already. He laughed and came closer. My heart raced and I grabbed the counter for support. "Don't you remember me? Ah maybe not. My name is Reed, you know me from being an asshole on the train." He made a sarcastic bow and looked up at me. I bit my lip hard to focus on a response. "Oh yes. You uh...also left me something the other day." I glared at him, hoping this would let him know that I knew he was stalking me, and preying on my awkwardness. However, all he did was smirk and run his fingers through his hair again. "Did you like it?" "I can't wear it, it's locked." He smiled back as a response. "Why are you following me? Are you going to kill me in an ally or rape me on my way to school? I need to know so I can plan for it." These bold words fell from my mouth before I had the sense to stop them. I felt myself internally exploding in the aftermath of such destructive words. He raised his eyebrows. "Well which would you prefer?" I met his eyes briefly, and quickly looked down at the counter again. He slowly began walking towards me until he was on the other side of the counter. He reached out and put his hand on top of mine. "Would you like to go to dinner with me?" Shocked at such a change in pace, I looked up with my mouth hanging open. I hadn't gone on a dinner date in two years, and the last one had ended with a broken condom and me turning him out. I had promised myself I was here for school, no boys. No men. No weird stalkers you met on trains. But as I looked at his face again, refreshened by his random appearance, I subtly convinced myself that two years was enough. This crazy psychopathic man before me was the embodiment of everything I wanted. Lust had always won out on logic for me. "What? Now? Tonight?" I pushed my dark brown hair behind my ears as a nervous habit. He watched me do it, with the same fascination I had for his movements. "Yes. Now. Tonight. See, I want to know you. Are you too creeped out to give me a chance?" He leaned in close to my ear. "I would blow you away." I shivered as he whispered that and knew in an instant that there was no going back. I was manipulated, and stalked, but I couldn't rationalize not giving him a chance. He was extremely curious to me, and left me wondering what happened to him, why he looked so pained, and what it would be like to feel his body entangled with mine. The latter was so enticing, it spoke for me. Passions of a Caged Bird "Stop stalking me and I'll go. And I have to change first." I watched as his face lit up with satisfaction and excitement. "You know where I live, pick me up in two hours." He smiled and extended his hand for another awkward handshake. I gladly took it and watched as he leaned in to kiss it. "What is your name?" I hesitated. "Caitlyn..." "Caitlyn." He repeated and smiled. "I will see you in two hours Caitlyn." He picked up and handed me my bags , helping me close the store as I left. I watched him walk across the street and down an alley, and my heart raced with excitement. I practically ran home and threw my bags at the door. The problem was, I had dedicated my life to long nights of study, and a cup of tea and book in the daytime. My wardrobe was painfully lacking anything that could be perceived as date night ready, forcing me to get creative and read up on a few DIY's. I ended up finding a green dress I had worn to high school graduation, and some flats I basically lived in. I looked in the mirror at myself, praying to suddenly become a beautiful makeup and fashion guru. My long dark brunette hair was pulled into a bun, with my growing bangs hanging listlessly around my face. My eyes were a dark hazel, and my lips were bare, but I looked presentable. I was decent looking, but never satisfied with my reflection. I found myself plain and boring, although some argued. I gave myself one last look in the mirror before grabbing my only coat and bag, and waiting on my couch. He knocked at exactly eight o'clock and I promptly took a deep breath and prayed for the best as I opened it. Reed stood tall and confident, his peacoat unbuttoned and exposing his white button up shirt that was only a little more than half buttoned. He had it tucked into his jeans, and his hair looked as if he had just run his fingers through it. "You look... beautiful." He half smiled and extended his arm for me to hold onto. I blushed and looked down, halfway muttering, "You look pretty hot too." He laughed at me and called me bold. He walked me to a little restaurant near the train, covering my head with an umbrella the whole time. I was surprised at the amount of gentleness he treated me with, a stark contrast with his previous frightening and bold demeanor. Throughout dinner he kept polite conversation going, and I found it very easy to talk with him. He seemed kind, and overall just as curious about me as I was about him. It felt good, refreshing to be out with him on a date, and as it came to a close, my stomach leapt. "So did you enjoy yourself?" I was already in love with his half smile. I giggled as he wrote the check. "That was my first date in a while, and surprisingly I did." "Me too. To both." He handed the waitress the check and she told us to have a good night. I anxiously grabbed my bag and looked up at him. "So uh my place or yours?" I stuttered, unsure of his response. Seriousness suddenly broke out across his face. His brow darkened and his half smile disappeared. He leaned closer to me. "I don't think you want that." I laughed and shrugged. "It's been a while, I think I'd be fine." He stared deeply into my eyes, with no hint of laughter evident. I recoiled slightly in fear, his intensity clashing with my casual approach. "Really. I don't think you do." I leaned away from him, embarrassed. Everything felt wrong now, and I just wanted to go home. His gaze was too intense for me. I had made a wrong assumption. "Oh." I looked down at my hands that nervously twitched. "It's not you it's just I... " He exhaled, exasperated. I could tell he was getting frustrated, and he quickly ran his fingers through his hair. He slammed his fist on the table and I jumped. As soon as I did he looked up at me, with concern. "I'm so sorry...It's not you it's that I...can I show you something? I just want you to understand Caitlyn." I gripped my bag harder. That sounded somewhat scary. However, I wanted it too bad at this point, and perked up when he asked if I would come to his home with him. Butterflies replaced my anxiety and I looked back up at him. He still looked serious, and more than hurt, but I saw a chance and took it. "Of course." He solemnly looked at me and offered his arm for support as we headed out to where he lived. Outside, the rain was pounding the concrete, and the night was settling in. Cars headlights flashed at us as we walked up the street. As I had begun to notice since I moved here, most people seemed to hibernate during the winter, because the rain and chill was infectious. Hardly anyone was still out, and all I could hear was the rain on a thousand roofs and our feet making tiny splashes in pools on the sidewalk. He continued to hold the umbrella for me, but without the warmth and gentleness as before. He was extremely guarded, and there was a darkness hiding in his beautiful and stony face that hadn't been there before. Briefly, I wondered if I had made a mistake, and NOW is when I'll get murdered. The change that came over him was so fast and abrupt, I hardly had time to decipher why he could be so upset. All I asked was if he wanted to have sex with me, and most men would be grateful for my bluntness. Reed obviously wasn't most men. This didn't help my near obsessive intrigue with him. We rounded a corner and reached an old brownstone, that stood at a good 10 stories. He quickly entered his pin and opened the door for the two of us, shaking off the umbrella. "I'm on the eighth floor." He sounded distant, but his voice was as smooth and low as before. I looked around for an elevator, and noticed there was only a long flight of stairs. I watched him nervously run his hand through his hair again, and begin the ascent up to his room. I am no athlete, and beyond that, I actually loathe any physically strenuous activities. I tried to conceal my embarrassing panting, as he was completely silent and unaffected by the hike uphill. When we finally reached the eighth floor, my cheeks were slightly rosy, but I was able to conceal by breathing almost silently from my mouth. Damn me and not working out. I should be in better shape. We approached his room and he put the key in the hole. He hesitated. "I'm not..." he sighed, "I'm not a bad guy." I put my hand on his shoulder, getting more nervous as time went on. What if I made a mistake? I wanted to trust him, but his behaviour was odd. He turned the key and opened the door, revealing a room completely decorated as an old english manor. The walls were decorated in hundreds of clocks, almost obstructing the deep red walls. They all clicked at the same time. "This is the drawing room. I collect clocks." I watched them all run in unison, and felt slightly anxious. The couch was deep red and looked straight out of an Anne Rice book. He had several tables, all black and with bear feet. I admired the room as I took it all in. It was comfortable, and beautiful in an old fashioned romantic way. I turned to him only to find he had been watching me the entire time. He tried to put his sarcastic smirk on, but I could tell he was desperate for my approval. I gloated in this for a moment before saying, " Wow. I love the style. It reminds me of victorian London." Relief flooded his face and he nodded, with his half grin. "I'm a bit of a fan of it. " That seemed to be an understatement. Every room that I could see was decorated in this way as well, minus the clocks. Although initially I found it slightly off putting, it began to grow on me, and it helped create the atmosphere of romance. I looked at him. His hair had fallen over his eye and he was looking down at his right hand. He was intensely beautiful. All I wanted to do was slowly take his clothes off and feel his body pressing against mine. I thought about this for a moment, then stepped toward him. I put my hand on his shoulder. He looked at me and, turning, pushed my hand off of his shoulder. "My tastes aren't traditional Caitlyn. I don't want to frighten you." I laughed. "Obviously. I'm not scared off by your weird clock collection or your old english obsession. I'm not that easily frightened." He looked me dead in the eyes, unrelenting. "Follow me." We walked down the hallway until we reached a door with a heavy looking lock. He took a large key from under his shirt out and off from around his neck. "What you're about to see might scare you, but I assure you it's safe." I took a deep breathe as my heart began to race. He turned the key in the lock and slowly opened the door. What was inside, I wasn't sure of at first. I walked in slowly, taking in my surroundings. The black walls were hung with assortments of strange things, some that I knew, and some that were foreign to me. I recognized the several leather floggers, the horse crop and cane, and a long snaky looking black whip. They glinted in the white light. The room seemed to glow rather than having one direct light source, and everything was visible. There were several complicated looking appendages hanging from the ceiling, and many bars that looked as if they were to have a body tied to them. In the corner, there was a heavy wooden chair that looked like a throne, and small cuffs at the foot. I took in the room, my mind racing and my heart speeding up. So he wasn't a murderer, he was a rapist. I loathed my choice in men in that moment so much it hurt. "I'm a sadist, but not the kind you might think. Seeing just anyone in pain doesn't do things for me...I...I enjoy inflicting pain...on women." He walked towards me and studied my face for any signs of a reaction, but I yielded none. I had been with many men, and seen a lot of fucked up shit, but never had I seen such extensive measures taken, to cause pain to another. I looked at him as well. "It's a sexual game I play. There are rules. If you choose to play, you can tell me yours, and I can tell you mine. There are also safe words, and I encourage you to use them. The pain will never be more than you can bear, and as long as you do what I say, it'll be fun." He turned to face me and grabbed my face gently. " I understand if this is too much. Most people would have left already. And by no means would I ever subject you to any pain you aren't okay with. I'm not trying to scare you away, but it's a part of who I am and I can't change that." He let go of my face, but refused to avert his intense gaze. I looked round the room again, and imagined what it would be like to be tied up in one of the machines. To be completely under his control, and subject to his sadistic pain inducing fantasies. I also imagined going home and never speaking to or about him again, and found that solution equally, if not more painful as being a part of this room. There was always something. This was the weirdest thing I had seen though, but it gave me a rush I can't exactly describe. I looked back at him, at his eyes that were burning holes in my skin and at the whip dangling delicately on the wall. "Okay." He raised an eyebrow. "Okay what?" "Okay, I'll do it. I'm curious to say the least." He leaned back and folded his arms, studying my face more intensely than before, and causing me to want to shiver with nerves. "Are you sure Caitlyn?" I straightened myself up and smirked at him. "I said I was. Now, what do I have to do?" His arms still folded, he snickered and looked down, letting his hair fall in front of his eye again. "Rules first." I nodded and he half smiled, leading me outside of the room, and back to the drawing room. He sat across from me at his black dining table and folded his hands on top of each other. "My rules are, don't touch me unless I tell you you can. Once in the room, I am not Reed and you are not Caitlyn, I am your Master and you are my slave. Do you understand?" I nodded slowly. God, what was I getting myself into. " You will not talk about what goes on in the Red room with anyone besides me. And lastly, if anything is too much for you, use the safety word Caramel Apples and everything stops." "Okay. I can do that." I shyly stated. "Now your turn. Any rules?" "No buttstuff. And I don't do girls." He chuckled. "Is that all?" I thought for a moment and then nodded slowly again. " That's it." He smiled at me and leaned in. "Are you sure you're okay with everything?" I smiled back. "Yes Reed, I am okay with it." I sounded so much surer than I felt. The idea that I could be tied up and flogged in a matter of minutes made my stomach sink, but sent adrenaline throughout my body, quivering with curiosity. He stood up and extended his hand. I reached for it and we walked back down the hall towards the Red Room. I began picking at my dress with nerves, desperate to get it over with. But I wanted his body, and this was the price I had to pay. As he reopened the door and we entered, he tucked his hair behind his ears, and I took a deep breath. "Turn around." Before I could protest such a harsh command, I realized obedience was rule I had agreed to it. I turned my back to him and focused my eyes on the dangling hooks from the ceiling. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and began unzipping my dress. It fell like a puddle of green around my feet, leaving my body completely exposed besides my underwear, which was plain black and unconsidered. I mentally scolded myself for not putting on cute underwear for my first date in years. A first date that ended up being far kinkier than I could have imagined. As soon as his fingers met my bare torso, I felt myself get goosebumps. They were so cold, but they felt perfect. They felt how I thought it would. "Step out of your dress and face me." Cautiously, I did as I was told, and faced him. His eyes scanned me over, with no shame for staring at my bare breasts. He brought his hands up to cup them , and he leaned towards me. "Keep your hands where I can see them." He began rubbing my nipples back and forth between his index and forefingers as I moved my hands from behind my back to resting on my thighs. He spat on my breasts. The saliva slid down to my nipple where it slowly dripped off and onto the black tile. "Get on your knees in the center of the room." "Okay." He chuckled darkly. "You say yes sir. Do you understand?" As I got on my knees carefully, he made his way over to me and towered over me. He leaned in close to my face, At first I thought he was going to kiss me , but he withdrew and spat down on my face. I shuddered but didn't shrink away. He turned his back to me and walked to the wall where he took the horse crop down. He slowly swaggered back, swinging the crop back and forth. Its slim head glinted in the light, revealing it was made of pure leather. I bit my lip to keep from anticipating the pain. "You didn't answer me." "Yes sir." He drew back his arm and brought the horse crop down on my thigh. I yelped. "You will speak when you're spoken to. Is that understood?" "Yes sir." The spot on my thigh had turned a bright pink. The funny thing was, I didn't hate it. It burned, but the pain merely fueled my excitement. He began walking around me in slow circles, staring at my body. "Your body pleases me." I held back a slight giggle at this awkward kinky compliment. That was probably as sweet as this was going to get, but it was still kind of sweet none the less. "Thank you, sir." The crop came down hard again this time on my back and I cried out. "Your job is to please me. You are my slave. You are nothing. Do you understand?" My back burned intensely, and I bit back the tears caused by the pain. "Yes sir." My voice faltered. He leaned back down and this time, his lips met mine, and my body was sent into a flurry of butterflies. God his lips were soft. I could kiss them forever. but just as I was about to go in for another one, he stood up and spat on me again. "See the table? Get on it and spread your legs." I looked around for it, then slowly made my way over, aware of his eyes following my ass. I settled down and opened my legs as sensually as I could. I watched his eyes trail from my face to my breasts, down my stomach and to the spot between my spread legs. He's eyes looked like an animal's closing in on its prey. I suddenly became wet at the thought of what I was doing and how exposed I was. The nerves got to me. He stood above me still, running his hands up and down my thigh and making eye contact with me the whole time. Everything he did was intense. It drew me in. Reed slowly began taking off my panties, retaining eye contact all the while. Finally, they reached my ankles and he threw them off. The horse crop laid beside me on the table, as a warning to me, and I was reminded of it when he reached for it. "Spread your legs." He lightly slapped my inner thigh with the crop, sending fire throughout that area of my body. With his other hand, he pulled my legs open so harshly, I fell onto my back. I could feel myself get more and more lubricated as he sat at the chair level with my pussy. I closed my eyes in anticipation, and nearly jumped when his hands suddenly clamped down on my wrists, pinning me to the table. "You aren't allowed to move, and you aren't allowed to come. Do you understand?" "Yes sir." My voice was low and much more relaxed than I had assumed. This atmosphere he had created got me on a deeper level. His tongue carefully circled the lips of my vagina, and I shivered and moaned. My back arched upon initial contact and he pinned my hands harder. I could feel his warm, wet tongue flick up and down my pussy, which became increasingly wet the more he teased me. He began to work faster, and I practically started dripping onto the black surface, as his teeth closed in on clit. It was almost too much. I let out another moan and he abruptly stopped. He reached for the horse crop again. Still in the aftermath of the intense pleasure he gave me, I didn't notice him drawing back his arm again and screamed when my right breast erupted in intense pain. "Answer me slave, what did I tell you to do?" "You said not to move or come." The horse crop flew down and met my left hip and I sharply drew in air through my teeth. "You call me sir. Try again." The crop came down on my left thigh and I cried out, my face scrunching in pain. "You said don't move or come sir." He half smiled and lowered his face towards mine. "Thats a good girl." His lips brushed against mine, but he pulled himself back before we could kiss. "I'm afraid you're going to come, so get up and get down on your knees." Feeling euphoric from the near orgasam I almost had, I gladly sat up and got back on my knees on the cool tile floor. I heard him undo his belt and gaped when he turned around revealing his cock. Maybe it was because I hadn't seen a real one in two years, but I couldn't help but feel impressed at what I saw. It was huge, and he held it in his hand like a trophy. He didn't give me much time to investigate it however, before carelessly forcing my mouth open with it. I gaged upon impact, but quickly remembered that this used to be a fairly engaging skill of mine, and began using my old tricks. His hands never left my head, as he forced himself in and out of my mouth, so hard I couldn't help but gag every so often. This lasted until my eyes started to water from my gag reflux, and he sharply withdrew himself, and I allowed air back into my lungs. He grabbed my chin and spat in my eye, rubbing it in as he pulled his pants back up, concealing his massive cock. "You pleased me slave. I'm going to reward you, because I am a generous master, do you understand?" "Yes sir, you are a generous master." I wasn't sure why, but I could slowly feel my sanity slipping, and I found myself at a point where I would do any sexual favor he asked of me, willingly. "Get back on the table." Passions of a Caged Bird Gladly, I climbed back up on the table and sat with my legs up and spread apart. He slowly walked over to me, rolling up his white sleeves. He walked past me and to a table behind me. When he returned, he had assorted items I knew nothing of in his hand. First thing he took out was what looked like a long piece of heavy fabric with a red ball in the center. He carefully came behind me and placed the ball in my mouth as gently if it were a piece of chocolate. I felt him tie the thing behind my head, the item rendering me silent besides moaning and yelping. "You aren't to speak to me, understood?" I made eye contact and nodded, biting down on the red ball. He smiled, and there were those wolf eyes again, closing in on his prey. The next thing he did was grab my hands, sending me slamming into the table. He cuffed each hand individually, and tied it to the legs of the table. He then walked down to my feet and did the same, forcing me into a star shape. I couldn't move anything beside wiggling my torso, which didn't move far. His hands reached up and grabbed my breasts, pulling on them hard. "Stay still. You're body belongs to me now." I silently nodded, as he walked around my body, slowly observing my helpless state. I stole a glance at his eyes and found that they were on fire with a dark passion. He looked crazy, and his intensity frightened me. I began to feel vulnerable and scared. I was completely open to him. "I have to admit from the moment I saw you I imagined this." I suddenly felt very nervous, and my palms and neck began to sweat. Reed crept up behind me and gripped my bun hard. taking out the pins and allowing my hair to freely fall all around my face. I looked back up at his face, but was forced to look away, his fiery eyes too much to gaze at. I closed my eyes. He chuckled and quickly covered my eyes with some type of cloth, which he tied around my head in a fast knot. There was a pause in which I heard him walk around the room. Out of nowhere, I could feel his cool, thick fingers slide straight into me, and I drew in breath. Never had I felt that many butterflies fill my entire body at one time and I moaned with delight. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, and began softly running them up and down my clit. All of the nerves from my previous fears focused into pleasure instead, and had me shivering and moaning with each stroke of his cold, thick fingers . He took manipulation to the next level. "You may not come. If you do, I will punish you. Do you understand?" I nodded in my silent, blind, immobile state, but was unsure myself. As he moved into me, I felt my back arch and intense pleasure fled tough my body. I felt myself become so wet, I dripped onto the table, but he persisted. I became lost in a sea of pleasure, as Reed calmly fingerfucked my pussy sore. Just as it became near impossible to hold it back anymore, he withdrew himself and pushed my blindfold off. I was grateful to see his face again. His eyes were less frightening than before, but still alive with something foreign to me. He yanked the ball gag out of my mouth and leaned up to kiss me. I joyfully kissed him back, reveling in his soft touch. He reached for his belt and began unhinging it as my heart leapt. My longing for him was so intense, it was almost a tangible thing. Reed presented his cock to me and looked me in the eyes. "You can come, but you have to ask me. Do you understand?" "Yes sir." I whispered. I watched as he ripped open a condom and quickly rolled it on in one swift movement. His hands reached up to pin down mine and he climbed on top of me. I gasped as he slid inside of me, electrifying my body with his. I couldn't conceal the moan that escaped my lips., or how far my back arched, but he became my entire focus as he racked my body with waves of pleasure. He remained at the foot of the table, standing away from me and pumping my body with pure euphoria. Unable to express my delight, all I could do was moan and bite my lip, watching him above, fuck me with such obvious lust. I could feel pressure, I could feel an intense burn and then... "Master may I come?" I half begged in a desperate moan. He smirked at me and thrust harder. "Yes you may." I smiled with relief and allowed my whole body to be consumed by intense pleasure. Every part of myself was swept with waves of bliss. I felt him pull out and allowed myself to fully enjoy my condition. As I did this, he came around, and quickly untied me from the table, freeing me of all my restraints. I slowly sat up, my body a feverish sweaty mess. He stared into my eyes, the fire and passion fleeing. He ran his fingers through his hair and began getting dressed. He carried me from the Red room to what I assume to me his bedroom. Four posts stood gloomily around his mattress , each covered with intricate designs. He gently set me down there and walked around the room to his closet, tossing me a white shirt. I buttoned it up. I thought it was odd that I had yet to see him shirtless. He silently walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower, the sound of the water hitting the drain similar to the rain outside. I tried not to seem obvious as I snuck glances of him getting undressed. As he pulled her shirt off, I noticed four long, deep, pink scars. run sideways down his back. They made my toes curl looking at them, and imagining the pain they must have induced. I averted my eyes, suddenly ashamed of my sneakiness. I rolled over and looked at the long black curtain covering the window facing the streets outside. My body was relaxed and filled with the utmost satisfaction, but my mind wouldn't remain silent. I questioned myself, and how I could do this to myself, and yet at the same time, no pain lingered and I was filled only with relaxation and the remains of a deep pleasure. Reed was a fascination to me, and one that I didn't fully understand. I wanted to know him, beyond the guarded exterior he presented, but felt that something awful was hiding beneath it all. When he came to bed, he was silent, and stared intently at the ceiling. I watched him, memorizing his face even better than I had already, falling in love with the stern expression that sometimes appeared on his brow. He made no sign that he knew I was there, and never broke from gazing upwards. Without words, I felt myself silently drifting off to sleep, and was comfortably lost in thoughtless slumber. I would have remained in perfect, uninterrupted sleep all night, had it not been for the loud crash I heard around three in the morning. My eyes flew open instinctively, and I instantly began feeling the bed for Reeds unconscious body. However, it wasn't there. I shuddered and sat up. I could see a dim light come from the drawing room, and hesitantly climbed out of bed. The air was cold, and I held myself to keep as much warmth as I could. "Reed?" I whispered into the night. I heard things move again, and began walking towards the light. When I rounded the corner to the room, I was shocked to see Reed half collapsed on a table, with glasses and a large bottle of nearly empty alcohol at his feet. "Reed?" There was almost anger in my voice as I stared at his despicably drunk state. He sat up quickly as soon as I said that, and when his eyes flashed over mine, I took a step back. There was madness in them. "Get out." He calmly told me. I stepped back again. "Are you okay?" He stood up shakily, his legs resembling those of a sailor. His eyes were full of hatred and intense madness. I couldn't look for long, it felt like I was falling into a black pit. "Get out." His voice was calm, a stark contrast to the rest of his body. "Why don't you come back to bed? I think you need to lay down." I whispered, but I watched as his face changed again, filled with more fury than I had seen before. He reached for the nearest empty glass and threw it against the wall. "I don't know you, get out." I jumped and ran back to the bedroom, debating whether or not I should leave for good. But in an odd way, I didn't want to leave him alone. I added this to a mental list of things that I was unsure of about Reed. His sudden and intense waves of anger frightened me, but not enough to leave him for good. Like I said, I felt myself catching feelings already, and that night marked the first of many I spent in both mental bliss, and turmoil. I was in love with a madman. Passions of a Naked Pussy I saw her as she walked along the shop fronts and she seemed to sway so attractively. I had been window shopping in that bored way you can do sometimes and had decided that this woman was worth looking at some more. I don't know when she noticed me watching her but it couldn't have been all that long when she moved to an escalator allowed it to move her to an upper level in the shops. It being a slow day there were few other shoppers around and none near us. As she rose upwards she reached behind her body grabbed a handful of dress and pulled it up exposing the sauciest, most beautiful butt I have ever seen. It was lightly tanned a golden colour and without any sign of panties or thong so that I knew that she was completely naked underneath the thin dress she was wearing. Taken aback at first and then intrigued I followed her and watched as she would glance back every now and again, I thought I saw her smile a couple of times when she saw me in the distance. Then she entered a second hand clothing store where an elderly lady started to chat with her. I followed her in and she glanced at me with a smile when she saw that it was me. At almost the same time the elderly lady left her and after looking at me and sniffing in a disapproving manner left to go out the back as though looking for some clothes. Turning back to the woman I was greeted by the sight of her naked ass cheeks waving towards me as she bent over to look at shoes and grasping her dress in her hands. Turning back to me she signalled me to come over to her. "Go to the change room over there I will join you soon," she whispered to me with a lust laden voice. Trying not to make myself noticeable to the woman in the back I ducked into the change room that had been indicated and I waited. I had seen her getting the shop assistant to go and get other clothes that she wanted after talking to the woman again and taking the clothes she had in her hands. I pulled the door closed and then waited. Suddenly the curtain was pulled aside and she entered the small cubicle with a wicked smile across her face. Softly she put a finger across my lips telling me not to make any sounds. Satisfied that I understood she took the clothes from her hands and hung them from the hooks in the room. Being such a small room my body rubbed against hers as she hung her clothes, more she was deliberately rubbing her butt against my hardening cock. Turning to me and smiling she began to unbutton the dress she was wearing. Slowly as though tempting me even more she allowed her dress to fall open and expose her small breasts that were topped with the most amazing nipples that stuck out at least three quarters of an inch. She smiled at my amazement and reached down her body to softly and tenderly unzip my fly to expose my hard cock. Which she gently caressed with her hand all the time looking at my face as I struggled to keep from screaming with pleasure. "You seem to like looking at me," her voice purred in my ear as she stroked my cock but refusing me any relief. "Do you like shaved cunt, I shave mine it is very smooth," as she spoke she undid the last of the buttons of her dress and allowed it to drop to the floor exposing her naked body. Like she had told me she was smooth between her legs and her lips were prominent. I lusted for this woman, wanted to lap the juice from her succulent cunt, taste the rich juice I knew must be between her legs and then thrust my hard waiting cock deep into her. As I watched she caressed her body pinching her nipples that were surrounded by her tanned breast flesh, she pulled on them hard and bit her lips with pleasure. Opening her legs she slipped her hands along her body and opened her juicy cunt lips and then nodded to me. I slipped to my knees then and she threw one of her legs over my shoulder forcing her musky scented cunt against my face. With that delicious flesh against my lips I began to lick voraciously. My sensitive tongue touched and explored her lips and then in the entrance of her wet hole. I found her clit and marvelled at its size and prominence. I touched it gently with my tongue and she took my hair into her hands and pushed me hard against her groin. "Harder!!!" she hissed. "Are you alright in there," the voice of the shop assistant asked as I sucked her hard on her clit. The nub of her pleasure throbbed as she huskily assured the woman she was well. Then he let out a sharp his as her cum shot into my mouth and I lashed her clit with my tongue until she pulled me to my feet and then kissed my cum stained lips with passion. Pulling her leg about my waist I felt her cunt lips next to my cock and reaching down I opened her hot passage and thrust my hard flesh deep into that welcoming hole. Gasping she thrust her tongue deep into my mouth as I humped my cock into her tight cunt. As I fucked her standing against the plywood wall she twisted and writhed her body as her cunt pulsed, spasmed, orgasmed and was insatiable. I don't know how long we were fucking perhaps only a few minutes until I felt my cock pulse and the cum shooting through my flesh deep into that welcoming hole. "Yessssssss!!!!" she groaned as she felt my warm cum shoot into her cunt again and again. Panting my cock slipped from her warm embrace and using her old dress she wiped the cum from her lips and thighs and laughed as she put on the blouse and short summer skirt she had chosen only minutes before on her well fucked body. The cloth was so thin I could make out her nipples that virtually poked through the material. Looking at her skirt it was possible to make out the curve of her ass and the soft lips of her cunt. Looking at the mirror as I pulled up my pants she turned to me and said," I like these I hope you have enough money for them since we have ruined my other clothes." Smiling I reached into my pocket for my wallet and hoped that you might want to keep me with you as you shopped for more things. (Dedicated to Helen who inspired this quickie)