Plumbed During Work

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I work as a saleswoman for a company that markets adult products. The pay is low, the travel constant and the hours unsociable. But it’s all I can get at the moment. Mostly it’s parties or fundraisers I go to, usually held in someone’s home. The fundraisers are nearly always mixed events. Although I sell more this way, I don’t look forward to them. One of the ‘benefits’ of this job is supposed to be meeting people. But there’s little pleasure going into a room where the guys all feel compelled to make grubby comments and innuendos and the women all laugh in an embarrassed way wishing they were elsewhere. And some guy always comments on my looks or what I’m wearing or wants to give me advice about how to use one of the products or calls for a demonstration. It makes me feel like the money I’ve earned is barely worth the effort.

Much better are the parties. The ones I get on my job sheet are mostly all women parties – hen nights, engagement showers, that kind of thing. The lines I use for the different products don’t sound smutty and the atmosphere is much more relaxed. Women aren’t bashful about speaking out when there are no men around, and they’re not worried about being misunderstood. They also say things about their husbands or boyfriends that they would never say if they were in the room. There is much more laughter and although I don’t sell as much, I hand around my card before I go and quite often there are phone calls and sales that way.

Which is how I came to have a very raunchy afternoon late this summer. You may think that a woman in my line of work would have lots of opportunity for a bit of fun. Well only if your idea of fun is half-drunk guys trying to grope you or propositioning you as you fill orders and pack up. In fact, working constantly with ‘marital aids’ and ‘sex toys’ tends to de-sensitise you and it’s only when you see them through other people’s eyes that you can be reminded that they are things intended to give erotic pleasure.

I was at an engagement party one evening. There were around twenty women all getting into the champagne and dancing to some music. I went through the usual routine and they had a bit of fun with some of the novelty items. The bride-to-be was in her late 20s and made a humorous display of fellating a chocolate dildo. There was the usual interest in the leather gear but before long I could sense they were getting bored. I handed round my cards, packed up the travel case and headed home.

The next afternoon as I was on the way to another function I got a call on my cell phone. The woman introduced herself as Monica from the day before. As she described herself, I quickly remembered her. She was 30ish with pale skin and dark hair cut in a pageboy look. Very striking, with good dress sense that showed off her trim body. She had been fairly quiet at the party but I had noticed her because she had seemed more attentive than the others and because she had large dark sexy eyes and large pouty lips.

On the phone she said she would be interested in looking through some of the samples in more detail and making some purchases. We made an appointment for the next day and I jotted down her address. It was some distance and I hoped that I would make a big enough sale to justify the trip.

Early the next afternoon I knocked on the door of a small newly-built house in a commuter suburb. Monica answered looking as well groomed as I remembered and ushered me into the living room. She had coffee ready and poured it as I opened the travel case. Most phone enquiries are about the S/M items that we stock, so I had a good selection of those with me together with specialist catalogues. But Monica showed little interest in those.

I asked her what she was interested in seeing and she sat back on the couch, sipped her coffee and said that maybe I could advise her. She told me that she and her husband had a good sex life (don’t they all say that?) and that they had an uninhibited relationship (ho hum) where they discussed sexual matters openly (yawn). Well, she had long known that there was a time in her husband’s life before she met him when he had experimented with bisexuality (uh oh). Although it had been years before, he had recently started talking about it in terms of a sexual fantasy.

Monica continued on saying she could see what he was leading up to and didn’t like the idea of her husband looking for sex with another guy. Although they had tried most things she didn’t like that idea at all.

She was quite nervous talking so openly to a stranger and even though I encouraged her with smiles and nods, it wasn’t getting any easier for her. She stood up and said she needed a glass of wine.

While she fussed about in the kitchen, I looked at a row of framed photographs on the bookcase – wedding photos, holiday snaps and so on. Monica’s husband was quite a hunk.

She came back in with two glasses of chilled white wine and, even though I make it a rule not to drink on the job, I accepted a glass hoping it would put her at ease. I asked her how I could escort bayan help. She said that her husband’s fantasy involved him in a submissive role.

By this time I had had enough of the coy way she was talking. ‘You mean he wants to be screwed in the butt?’ I asked, and smiled gently to show I was not being nasty. Monica nodded quickly and took a gulp of her wine. But the ice was broken and she was able to talk freely.

Apparently he had always encouraged her to play with his arse and she had no problem with fingering his butt and rubbing his prostate while giving him a blow job. And so long as he washed thoroughly, she was prepared to rim him on occasion as part of their foreplay. Afterall, he certainly returned the favour and it was a bit of a turn on for her that he would lick her butt for long minutes. But they rarely progressed to anal sex – she was willing enough but he didn’t seem to have much interest beyond tonguing and sucking her shute.

As Monica talked I was aware of a breakdown of the normal barriers between people who had only just met. I would not expect a stranger to confide in me in this way, but it somehow felt natural enough and a warmth was building between us. We were talking like old friends who had long been sharing secrets.

She continued saying that she had concluded that her husband’s fixation on things anal was based on his desire to get bum fucked; and she was concerned that he would start cruising some gay beat and do something stupid or get himself in trouble. Not to mention that she didn’t like the idea of him getting involved with some guy. At this point she stopped, put a hand on my forearm, and spent a couple of minutes assuring me that she wasn’t the jealous type and that they had experimented with swinging and threesomes. It was just that anything he did should be with her consent, and he hadn’t even tried to talk to her about it.

She got up and took our glasses to the kitchen for a refill. When she returned she sat close to me on the couch, our knees touching, and told me that her plan was to buy a strap-on dildo and give him what he wanted herself. I had a sudden vision of Monica naked with a black leather harness strapped around her pale waist and between her buttocks, a rubber cock hanging heavily from her groin. I took a gulp of the wine to cool my suddenly hot face then told her I had a few in the sample case she could look at and a number more in the catalogue.

I felt a bit flustered as I unpacked the case and took out a couple of harnesses – one black leather with studs and the other a more dainty red version – and a range of dildos. Monica went straight for the black harness and stood holding it as I complimented her selection and showed her how to fit the dildos in and the raised patch on the inside that presses against the woman’s parts. She got the idea quickly and didn’t hesitate in selecting a large nine inch black life-like tool (catalogue number AM8447/9B – we move quite a lot of these beauties), running her fingers up and down the ‘veins’ and around the ridges of the ‘glans’, a reflective smile on her face. ‘Yes, I think this will do nicely,’ she cooed and put her selection on the coffee table together with some lubricant and, after a pause, a small black leather flogger.

We sat back on the couch and resumed talking. I asked Monica how she planned to bring up the subject with her husband. She wasn’t sure so I suggested that she do it as a role play. She liked the idea and we amused ourselves thinking up ideas, giggling like school girls. We decided that it should be something along the lines of a dominant/submissive theme with Monica pretending to be a tough butch guy. Our glasses were empty again and Monica refilled them. Returning from the kitchen she announced that she thought there would be a better chance of things working out if she rehearsed it all and would I mind playing the part of her husband. I agreed readily enough. She said she needed to dress for the part and I sipped my wine while she went to the bedroom to change.

She came out wearing jeans and a checked shirt, her hair tied back and lipstick removed. She strutted around talking in a deep voice and we both broke up laughing. It was obvious that wouldn’t work and, after a bit of thought, we agreed to it with her being a dom mistress that her husband was going to see. She scooted off to change again and, after quite some time, came back in dressed in a tight black top with a deep scoop neck, short black skirt, and black stockings and pumps. Her hair was down again and she had lots of vivid lipstick and eye shadow on. She’d put on a push-up bra and the tops of her breasts looked plump in the neck of her top. Her pale skin was striking in this get up and her dark eyes positively smouldered. I felt weak in the pit of my stomach and Monica asked me if anything was wrong. I stammered that she looked pretty amazing and she gave me a long look.

She sat beside me and reached for her wine. Her skirt rode up to reveal her garter belt and the touch of her stockinged görükle escort knee against my thigh made my mouth go dry. We talked about how to proceed and basically agreed that Monica needed to get into the role right from the start and not deviate from it. I would do my best to give the kind of responses a submissive guy would make.

‘Right,’ said Monica decisively. ‘You go out of the room and knock on the door. I’ll call you in and we’ll go from there.’ I went out to the hallway, took a couple of deep breaths, then knocked on the door frame. ‘Come in,’ Monica said imperiously. I walked in and stood before her. ‘Well, well, what have we here?’ she said, looking up at me from the couch.

‘Please ma’am,’ I said in a little voice. I wasn’t sure what else to say and anyway my eyes were drawn to her cleavage and my mouth went dry again. She watched me staring at her for a long moment then stood up and walked around me.

‘You’re certainly an insolent little boy,’ she said in a demeaning tone. ‘Pretty and girlish and insolent.’ She stopped in front of me and, hand on hips, said ‘By the time I’ve finished with you, sissy boy, you won’t be so smug.’ She seemed taller and more substantial and had a natural severity about her. ‘Now strip!’ she commanded. I hesitated wondering an instant if she expected me to act out this part as well. ‘Strip!’ she said harshly, dispelling my doubts, ‘Or it will be worse for you!’ I unbuttoned my blouse, shrugged it off, and unzipped my skirt, letting it fall around my ankles. I was very self-conscious as Monica looked me up and down. I carry some extra pounds, especially on the hips and my backside is larger than I’d want. Plus my thighs need toning. ‘So the sissy boy wears women’s underclothing! What other nasty little things do you do? Huh? Speak up!’ I wasn’t sure what to say and stood there dumbly. ‘Do you put on lipstick and make up?’ she demanded.

‘Uh yes.’ I mumbled.

‘And do you put on false eyelashes?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘Yes, I bet you do,’ she purred. ‘And I can see that you shave your legs.’

‘Uh huh,’ I nodded.

‘Take off your pantyhose so I can feel how smooth and girlish they are, sissy boy.’ I took off my shoes and rolled down my pantyhose, standing bare foot in just my cotton briefs and bra. Monica walked slowly around me and then ran a hand slowly down my thigh. I shivered with the contact and broke out in goose bumps. She laughed brashly, then sneered ‘What a scaredy cat!’

I was a bit confused but decided that I should abandon my qualms and get fully into the role play like Monica obviously had. Once I’d settled that in my mind it wasn’t so hard and I guess the three glasses of wine were helping. I started trying to think like a man who wanted to get screwed by this beautiful mistress. After all it wasn’t at all hard to see Monica as sexy and desirable.

‘Sorry ma’am,’ I said apologetically. ‘I’m not scared really.’

‘No, you’re not are you?’ she said. ‘You’re here because you want to be. And you know what you want from me. Isn’t that right?’

‘Yes ma’am,’ I agreed.

‘So, sissy boy. Tell me what it is you want.’

‘Uh, I want you to strap on a dildo and fuck me,’ I said hesitantly.

‘Oh,’ she said in a demeaning tone, hands on hips again. ‘Let me make sure I’ve got this right. You want me to get my black leather strap-on…’

‘Yes.’

‘With the huge black rubber cock…..’

‘Yes.’

‘Bend you over the arm of the couch here….’

‘Yes’

‘Shove it up you tight little sissy butt hole….’

‘Yes.’

‘And fuck you till you cry and beg me to stop.’

‘Yes’ I was a little breathless after this and Monica’s voice was also choked.

There was a moment’s awkward silence before Monica replied. ‘Well let’s see how serious you really are, faggot boy. Get my harness,’ she ordered, pointing at the coffee table. I stepped across and picked it up, conscious of the weight of the wide studded leather. ‘And my beautiful black weapon,’ she added softly. ‘Now kneel,’ she commanded when I turned back to her. As I knelt before her she inched the skirt slowly over her hips and onto the floor. She was wearing a small pair of black lace panties that seemed moulded to her mound. I could feel my face redden as she put her thumbs under the waist band and lowered them down over her garter belt to the floor. She kicked away the skirt and panties and stood before me, legs slightly apart, hands on hips. Her pussy was only a few inches from my eyes. It was lightly covered in short dark wispy hairs. I could see the bulge of her labia and a slight parting, red and dewy, through which the inner lips protruded. I could smell her arousal. I was also damp between the legs.

Monica let me gaze a little longer before ordering me to dress her with the harness. I fitted the dildo in place and, heart thudding, held it out for her to step into. I lifted it up her legs and my hands trembled as they came into contact with her smooth pale thighs and bursa elit escort buttocks. I fumbled with straps and buckles, shuffling around her on my knees. As I fitted the rear strap I saw that her pear shaped buttocks were perfect and the sight of the black leather disappearing between them made me flush again. I was sorely tempted to kiss the flawless flesh.

Back in front of her, the heavy black cock bobbed before my eyes. Monica grasped it at the base and brushed it against my lips and cheeks. ‘Come on sissy boy,’ she cooed. ‘Open your lips so I can put my fat black cock in your little girly mouth.’ I complied and she pushed the head of the dildo in. My lips had to stretch quite a bit and it wasn’t an easy fit. She rocked her hips a little, running the cock head back and forth till I was used to it. ‘Yes,’ she purred. ‘I bet you’ve sucked lots of dicks, haven’t you?’ I didn’t think any answer was required, but grunted anyway. ‘Yes, I bet you were quite the little faggot in the locker rooms at college weren’t you. Sucking off the bigger boys and the coaches.’ She was sounding a little choked again and, looking up, I saw that she was wetting her pouty lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘Well sissy boy, show me how good you are.’ With that she reached behind me, grabbed me by the hair and pulled me forward onto the cock. It slid into my mouth until it butted against the back of my throat, making me gag a little. I guess it was a good five inches in and she held it there for a few seconds before starting to thrust it back and forth. ‘Yes my little queer,’ she cooed dreamily. ‘I bet you love having your sissy mouth fucked by a big strong cock. Suck my cock, baby,’ she said tugging at my hair. I sucked and slurped so that she could see and she smiled down at me. ‘My, my,’ she teased. ‘You are a hungry little cock sucker, aren’t you.’ I grunted again and she continued the thrusting. In fact, I was quite enjoying it. The rubbery taste was gone now and I wanted Monica to keep tugging my hair and shoving her groin towards my face. She started swaying and rotating her hips so that the pad on the inside of the harness worked against her clit and in this way she fucked my mouth for a long few minutes.

‘Well, you slut,’ she finally said a little breathlessly. ‘Time to show you know how to handle a real man’s cock. Time for you to deep throat my black beauty.’ I felt a bit panicked, never having had a cock this big in my mouth before and not knowing if I could take it any deeper. ‘Come on my lovely,’ Monica said and, hand still grasping the hair at the back of my head, tugged down so that my head was tilted up and my throat was straightened. ‘Now take a deep breath … that’s it … and open up …’ She leant her weight forward and the invader in my mouth pushed past the initial constriction and deep into my mouth. I was skewered and in a few seconds my lips and nose were hard up against the leather of the harness, the scent of her pussy thick on my senses. Monica eased back and then pushed deep in again, this time grinding her mound against the harness as it pressed against my face. ‘Oohhh, you do give good head you nasty boy,’ she cooed before tightening her grasp on my hair and pulling me along the cock and against her groin for another long grind. After half a dozen times, my throat was beginning to get sore. Maybe Monica sensed this because she pulled her cock all the way out and wiped it around my face.

‘OK my pretty,’ she said. ‘Now take my cock and show me how you like to give head. Let me see what those guys in the locker room are getting.’ I took the head of the rubber dick back in my mouth, reached behind Monica and cupped her buttocks. They were cool and smooth. I sucked back and forth on a comfortable three or four inches, squeezing and stroking those admirable cheeks. Then, with the cock half way in my mouth, I clamped down on it with my teeth. At the same time I grabbed the strap running between Monica’s buttocks and pulled it tight so that the harness was jammed hard against her snatch. Then I pushed with my mouth, grinding the base of the dildo back against her cunt. Monica moaned and rotated her hips. After a few seconds I eased off then did it again, getting the same response. I could smell her pussy and ran a couple of fingers down the strap between her buttocks. Sure enough it was all damp where it had been pulled against her labia. I glanced up and she had her eyes half closed and was massaging one breast, her nipples prominent against her bra. Knowing she was getting off just heightened my own arousal and I wanted to put a finger between my legs. But I kept my attention on the blow job I was giving.

After a couple of minutes Monica took control again. ‘Jesus,’ she gasped. ‘You sure are a good little cock sucker.’ She pulled away from me and adopted a stern voice again. ‘Now let’s see how tight that arse is. Over to the couch!’ I stood up and stepped over to the couch. Monica put her hand in the small of my back and pushed me forward so that I lay across the arm, my backside presented quite high. Keeping one hand firmly on my back, she roughly tugged down my panties and pushed a finger into my dripping crotch. ‘So you’ve been getting off on sucking cock, huh, you little slut!’ She wiggled her finger around and the invasion made me ache for that cock sprouting from her thighs.

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Post Apocalyptic Date Night

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Sometimes it can be tough to find the time.

*

Author’s Note:

If you’re expecting a serious story, this ain’t it. I’m taking a break from goofy fairy tales and instead focusing my love of parodies onto the genre of post-apocalyptic sci-fi. There’s an evil warlord, a damsel in distress, and a sword-wielding hero on a motorcycle.

This story is also loosely coupled to a rock and roll soundtrack. If you’d like to play along, take a moment to cue up Ace of Spades by Motorhead, Supernova by Liz Phair, and I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing by Aerosmith. You’ll know when to press play, I promise.

*

Post Apocalyptic Date Night

A lone warrior rode out across the desert, a cloud of dust trailing behind her. The roar of the Harley-Davidson between her legs echoed off the face of jagged rocks, as the arroyo she traveled in gave way to a deep box canyon. The fact that there was no way out of the canyon but forward was not a concern for the woman, but should have weighed heavily on the minds of the hundred or so of the Duke’s men waiting for her. For they were the ones who needed to worry—they had made the mistake of kidnapping her girl. And on date night no less.

A massive California Condor, the last of its kind, swooped down from the heavens. Gliding on a three meter wingspan the color of midnight, it clutched in its talons a mighty broadsword. The majestic bird quickly closed the gap between itself and the rider, and after letting loose a powerful screech, dropped the weapon into the woman’s outstretched hand. In the far distance, a forked tongue of lightning streaked toward the dry earth, the resulting thunder sounding suspiciously like the heavy metal crunch of an electric guitar.

It had begun.

*

As she rode deeper into the cool shadows of the canyon, the warrior woman had ample time to reflect upon how the events of today had come to pass. It was a long journey in the making. She envisioned herself as a child, no more than nine years old, on that fateful day when the world descended into shadow and chaos—the day her mother explained to her that they had to leave under the cover of darkness. People were in the streets, she said—bad people.

The nine-year old girl knew nothing of global warming, or its effect on the world’s crops, and in particular the precious crops of the coffee bean plantations. All she knew was that everyone in the older generation seemed to be constantly on edge these days, and downright cranky in the mornings. Just days ago, in her own neighborhood, a group of smug tea drinkers had been put up against the wall and shot. It was later that night that her mother had roused her from sleep to embark on their clandestine journey.

But a mother’s dream of a better life for her daughter made no difference to the coffee warlords and their roving gangs—the Bean Kings, the Sons of Juan Valdez. Soon the girl found herself as an orphan, trained as a gladiator slave, fighting and killing for the amusement of the most evil warlord of all, the Dark Roast Duke.

Though through her cunning, she was able to escape the Duke’s clutches and find a peaceful life for herself in the California wilderness, the place she now called home. She had even domesticated enough to find herself a nice girlfriend in the nearby Native American village. It was not an easy life, but they made the best of it, and had recently started setting aside time for date nights.

Now, after many years, the Duke was back. While the warrior woman was enjoying the peace and relative comfort of her isolated cabin, the warlord had been building his empire—and exacting his revenge on anyone who had betrayed him, no matter how long ago the transgression. The woman felt the sharp sting of his retaliation when she woke one morning to find a scrap of her girlfriend’s clothing stuffed inside a battered old coffee pot that had been left on her doorstep.

There was no question in her mind as to who sent the message, and soon after discovering it, she knew that the only way out was through. She donned her full-length oilskin duster and pulled her Harley out of the barn—the big V-Twin engine rumbling to life with a single kick of the starter.

She and the Native America woman had been trying for weeks now to go on another date, but it seemed like something was always coming up. And now that something was the Dark Roast Duke.

*

“Nobody fucks with date night,” she muttered to herself, as she twisted the throttle and roared deeper into the canyon.

High atop of the canyon wall, the warrior saw a single ghostly apparition. All dressed in black, sporting a Stetson hat and some serious mutton chop sideburns, the supernatural figure appeared to be stepping up to a microphone.

How this came to pass in the middle of the desert, and how the apparition was suddenly, magically flanked by a guitarist and a drummer, the woman did not know. She had other, more pressing matters on her mind, like the hundred or bursa escort so of the Duke’s men riding toward her on all manner of ATVs, dune buggies, and dirt bikes.

The warrior woman squinted against the dust cloud kicked up by coming mob, looking for a weakness—a place to strike. As if on cue, the ghostly trio of black-clad musicians above began pounding out a familiar speed-metal riff. She smiled, for as soon as the lead spectre began belting out the words to Motorhead’s Ace of Spades, she knew it was the ancestors who watched over her from above. They approved of her crusade and would provide the soundtrack as she loosed her wrath on all those who would dare to interfere with the sanctity of date night.

The Dark Roast Duke didn’t stand a chance.

*

With a swing of her mighty broadsword, the warrior woman separated the first thug’s head from his still convulsing body. Before she struck, he had already been riding erratically, seemingly having trouble keeping his dirt bike upright as he sped onward at the front of the pack. She did not know the source of his ailment or anything else about the man other than the color of his blood that was painting the rocks where his lifeless corpse now lay. She only knew that he was the weak link—her way in.

“One down, ninety-nine to go,” she muttered. Her sword had already found its next target before the first man’s head completed its macabre spinning arc to land face up in a red puddle behind his lifeless body.

After thugs ninety-eight and ninety-seven suffered a similar grizzly end—and ninety-six through ninety-two lay limbless on the canyon floor, their hearts still beating hard enough to send geysers of blood some three feet into the air—the remaining riders parted like a great sea, keeping a safe distance from the warrior and her motorcycle. And when she reached the far boundary of the mob, she turned to face them again.

They easy prey was gone. The lightly armored dirt bike riders had fallen so quickly that she was forced to quickly prioritize her remaining targets or risk letting her enemy regroup. The ATVs were the next logical choice in her mind, less protected than the dune buggies, but their numbers were many, and most riders clutched heavy bludgeoning weapons in their hands. One hit from a club or swinging mace would be enough to put her bike on the ground. She decided to go around the outside.

The warrior woman rode a great circle around the Duke’s men, faster and faster she went, herding them into a tight group and then charging one side to separate a small number of them to be quickly and easily dispatched in a spray of blood and gore. This tactic worked to her advantage for three more revolutions until the remaining men finally stood their ground. Whether they were smarter or braver than the slain, she did not know. She did know that the fifty or so of the Duke’s men who remained would be her toughest foes yet.

As the warrior woman sat astride her idling Harley contemplating how to pull off the next attack without being severely injured or killed, her spirits were lifted when she heard a howl. She recognized the voice as One-Eye, the old grey wolf who had a habit of coming around her campfire at night looking for scraps.

“Thank you my friend,” she said, “but I fear this may prove to be a difficult battle even for a pair of fearsome old warriors such as us.”

Before the words had finished crossing her lips, a second howl joined in with One-Eye. And then a third and a fourth. Soon the entire canyon echoed with the sound of the advancing pack. The warrior woman smiled and twisted the Harley’s throttle. One-Eye bared his teeth, and together with One-Eye’s extended family, they made short work of the remaining mob.

*

The sound of the Harley’s big V-Twin no longer echoed as loudly now that it was clear of the canyon and speeding toward the Duke’s palace, but alas, it was still a noisy beast and had alerted the captain of the guard. A number of warriors were already assembled outside the gate as the woman made her approach.

Had they known the foe they faced, they would have stayed inside, for their armor was more ceremonial than practical. And the Duke’s men were dispatched quickly by One-Eye and his cousins before the warrior woman even had a chance to swing her sword.

As it was, she relaxed her grip on the throttle to make her way slowly through the sea of mangled corpses. “And that, boys, is why you do not fuck with date night,” she said.

But she knew her troubles were not over as she brought her bike to a halt. Undeterred, the woman strode through the gate until the heels of her boots echoed on the marble floors of the Duke’s great hall. The warrior woman took note of several large and well-muscled men closing in to protect the Duke from her advance. From her gladiator days, she knew of the royal guard—serious warriors, hand-selected at birth and trained as ruthlessly efficient killers.

Also inside the circle of protection, for she bursa ucuz escort was chained to the Duke’s throne, was her girlfriend. Stripped bare and help captive by a heavy iron chain connected to the metal collar encircling her neck, she was every bit the picture of a warlord’s prize.

The warrior woman examined her girlfriend from afar—from the magnificent swell of her bosom, over her taut stomach and smooth-shorn mound, to the full length of her lean muscular legs—looking for any signs of harm.

“You’re looking good, babe.” The warrior woman allowed herself a smile. “Still want to go out tonight?”

“Of course,” responded the naked woman on the chain. “Took you long enough though. These guys are really lousy hosts.”

“Silence!” the Duke barked. “You may beg for your woman’s life, and your own, but your dogs will have to wait outside. I just had the floors done.”

“Certainly, your highness,” she said without the least bit of sincerity. Though in reality, the woman was simply biding her time and had no intention of being the one begging for anything today. With a nod and a wink from the warrior, the wolves began to retreat.

The Duke stared at the warrior woman, face frowning for a moment, before a servant came into view and offered him a steaming cup of brown liquid that the woman assumed was coffee—not chicory as the natives were fond of, but actual coffee made from the finest dry roasted Colombian beans.

“You cost me a hundred men today,” the Duke said, sipping at the cup with his pinky extended. He spoke rather matter of factly, as if he were settling a grocers bill rather than speaking of men who had lost their lives.

“You fucked with date night.”

For a moment the hall was silent. The Duke gazed upon the warrior woman with casual disdain while she in turn glared at him. While the gazing and the glaring continued seemingly without end, the men of the royal guard stood around posing and flexing their various muscle groups.

“Do you have any last requests before you bear witness to me having my way with your girl?” the Duke said. “Just a tiny reprieve before I give her to my men in exchange for bringing me your head.”

“Actually, I do.” The warrior woman turned her eyes to the vintage Wurlitzer jukebox that stood just off to her right. “Mind if I play a little music to get me in the mood?”

The Duke threw his head back and let out a mighty bellow of a laugh. He tossed the woman a coin. “Be my guest,” he said, still smiling and chuckling.

By the time the jukebox clicked and whirred, placing the ancient compact disc on its platter, the warrior woman was back standing where she had started, glaring defiantly at the Duke. And as the beginning strains of guitar rang out from Liz Phair’s Supernova, the warrior woman witnessed her girlfriend shifting her body, slowly closing the distance between herself and the Duke while holding a length of chain firmly in her grip.

Smart girl, the warrior thought. You take care of him, and I’ll get the rest.

“Good song, honey,” her girlfriend said. “It’s one of my faves.”

“Thanks, baby. I know you like it.”

The Duke raised his right hand in a lazy gesture that all of the royal guard seemed to fixate on—as if waiting for some signal.

“I’ve changed my mind,” the Duke said. “You die now. Then we gangbang your bitch.” The Duke dropped his hand and the royal guard sprang toward the warrior.

“She’s not a piece of meat, boys.” The warrior gritted her teeth.

And by the time Liz Phair’s vocals joined in with the guitar sounds emanating from the Wurlitzer’s speakers, the first head had been separated by the warrior woman and her mighty broadsword—the spray of red making the marble floor slick and treacherous.

The bulky men of the royal guard were forced to slow their advance or risk losing their footing. They should have taken the opportunity to retreat instead.

The warrior leaped forward, and using the fallen guard’s lifeless chest as a springboard, propelled herself into the air. Once airborne, time seemed to slow as a single slash sent three more guards sprawling under her sword—their bodies oozing the last bits of life before ever hitting the floor.

Two more of the royal guard made the mistake of standing two close together and were simultaneously skewered and dropped to join the lifeless heap.

The muddy riffing of the guitar and the powerful vocals of the chorus rang through the air, resonating around the scene of death that played out in the Duke’s hall. A beautifully choreographed spin, and a kick—followed by a slash, a parry and a thrust—was all it took to have the remaining three shaking their heads and tallying the scant minutes that lay left in the balance of their lives.

They decided to redouble their efforts.

While this regrouping was taking place, and the remaining trio of royal guards advanced on the warrior, her girlfriend had taken a length of chain in bursa elit escort her hands and wrapped it around the Duke’s neck. The warrior smiled as her girlfriend made a valiant effort to choke the life out of the foul little man.

“See what happens when you fuck with date night, jackass,” the Native American woman said, echoing the words of her warrior girlfriend. Still straining on the chain, she lifted her head to address her girlfriend. “How you doin’ over there, honey?”

“Good, and you?” said the warrior.

One of the royal guard had pulled a dagger from his belt and was now brandishing it menacingly in the direction of the warrior woman’s face.

“Not bad, baby.” The native woman put her knee against the Duke’s back and grunted as she took any remaining slack out of the chain. “You think of any place you’d like to eat tonight?”

“Anywhere, as long as it’s not at your parent’s house again.” The warrior woman spun to block a dagger thrust with a chop of her sword. The dagger clattered over the floor while she continued conversing, unfazed by the noise. “You know I love them to death, but your father tells the worst jokes I’ve ever heard. I really don’t know how you and your mom put up with it.”

The warrior stole a quick look at her girlfriend, who seemed to be holding her own against the Duke, his face a deep shade of crimson as he struggled to breathe under the chain.

“I’m okay with that, but Mom’s really gonna miss seeing you.”

For a split-second, the warrior woman fell prey to contemplating a fate worse than death—the frowning face of her future mother-in-law. And in that moment of distraction, one of the three remaining men of the royal guard unsheathed his dagger. But being a more cunning members of the Duke’s royal mob, he did not turn it on the warrior woman, but instead ran over to hold it to the throat of her girlfriend.

As the scene played out, the song ended and the Jukebox fell silent. For a moment, the Duke’s hall was deathly still. Then the two men flanking the warrior woman swiftly relieved her of the broadsword, while a press of the dagger held by the third man caused the Native American woman to relax her grip on the chain around the Duke’s throat.

The Duke stood up, dusted his pants, and put his hands together in a slow applause. “Bravo,” he said. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you fight. I dare say your technique has improved.”

The warrior woman huffed and struggled against her captors, but they held her fast.

“Come work for me again,” said the Duke. “I can always use someone with your skills. It seems such a shame to waste all that talent by having you killed.”

The warrior woman spat on the floor.

“Of course, I’ll have to keep your girlfriend.” The Duke slid the back of his hand over the Native American woman’s cheek as she tried to pull away. “But I’m sure I can keep her occupied.”

The Duke extended two fingers and pressed them roughly into the Native American woman’s mouth, as if to illustrate the plans he had for her. The warrior woman looked on in horror as his meaning set in, but then smiled as her girlfriend chomped down and the Duke cried out, shaking his bloody fingers loose.

“You shouldn’t fuck with date night,” the warrior woman reminded him.

The Duke responded to the taunt by slapping the warrior’s girlfriend hard across the cheek, sending her chain rattling and her body sprawling in a heap on the floor.

Recovering quickly, the native woman was soon sitting up again and casting an angry glare at the Duke. But the warrior woman had already seized upon the chance afforded by the split-second distraction of the guard who had once held the dagger to her girlfriend’s throat.

The warrior woman ducked out of the grip of her captors and sent their heads colliding with one another in a sickening crack of skulls that echoed throughout the Duke’s hall.

In a blur of motion she cartwheeled herself to the throne, swept her feet under the guard, relieving him of his dagger. He collapsed in a gurgling heap as the warrior drew the stolen blade swiftly across his throat.

With only the Duke remaining, she turned on him next and pressed the edge of the still dripping dagger to his throat. Then, as a final insult, she picked up the Duke’s cup of coffee, still steaming even after the brief skirmish, and brought it to her lips.

After taking a tentative sip, the warrior woman made a sour face and expelled the remainder the bitter liquid in a coffee-colored cloud of spray. “This stuff tastes like shit,” she said.

The Duke lay with his back pressed against his throne, trying, but not succeeding in putting some distance between himself and the warrior’s blade.

“Now here’s what we’re gonna do, Dark Roast Dipshit,” she said. “I’m kind of in a rush since it’s date night and all. So I’m gonna let you live … for now.”

The warrior woman turned her gaze to the pack of snarling grey wolves that had come forward once again to fill the hall. “My friends will be keeping an eye on you in case you get any bright ideas.”

No sooner had the admonishment crossed her lips, than the California condor came swooping in to pick up the discarded broadsword in its mighty talons and delivered it to the warrior where she stood.

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Pretending Life is Sweet

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This is my first attempt at writing a story so i’m testing the water really. Feedback welcomed.

Starts slowly, goes on a bit.

Apparently I can’t write and listen to music at the same time but I was obsessed with I Walk a Little Faster as performed by Blossom Dearie throughout the time I was writing this, hence the title.

*****

Prologue – A Dividing Line

First. There was nothing, then there was a bright light and a lot of people shouting, maybe at me, maybe at each other, really who cares. I wished they would just shut up and go away. Wasn’t this all supposed to be about making everything go away? I wasn’t quite sure where that last thought had come from. There was something hard and cold being pushed up against, and then around, my face and I was coughing into it. I struggled to lift my hands and push it away but someone was holding me back. My eyes wouldn’t seem to focus properly and then it was all black.

Second. There was darkness but at its edges I could see hints of grey and in the distance I could hear quiet voices in conversation. My back hurt and my throat hurt. These were nothing though compared to the pain around my neck which felt as if I was being strangled by a hand made of hot metal. Strangled, ah, right. There was other duller older pain elsewhere in my body too, pain which I recognised and had accepted. I sensed a figure looming over me and a soft female voice saying, “You’re awake are you. Try to drink some of this.” I felt a hand under my head lifting it a little and a straw at my lips so I sucked on it. The water felt wonderful until it hit my throat and then it burned and I was coughing and retching and the pain made me try to shout out but it hurt too much and then I felt really tired and then it was black again.

Third. There was a small room with curtains for walls and in it a bed and me in the bed. I really didn’t feel well and there was a kind of empty dizziness. A young woman in white loosely fitting clothes came in through a gap in the curtains. She smiled at me and said hello. I smiled back. I didn’t want to try to speak as my throat still hurt. She seemed to understand though and she kept on talking and telling me that i’d not been very well. Then I could hear a thin keening sound and feel tears on my cheeks and I realised the sound was coming from me. She sat on the side of the bed and held my head against her chest and distantly I could hear her saying something which sounded comforting although I couldn’t really make out the words. Eventually I must have fallen asleep.

Part 1 – Planning for the Future

I was first sure the difference was there when I was probably thirteen or around thereabouts. I know that is younger than most. So how then. Gender stereotyping was a deeply ingrained aspect of my upbringing so we used to play brides a lot. This wasn’t a game which was played with boys so you always ended up spending a lot of time being a groom. There I was every few days skipping down the aisle (skipping was very big too) approaching or maybe hand in hand with my fantasy spouse and I think I always knew I wanted her to be a girl not a boy.

It’s a silly story which misleads the reader and doesn’t quite answer the question. It also implies that perhaps there should be a moment of revelation and that just isn’t the way these things work generally. So take the story as more of an illustration, a little glimpse, of one of those tiny points of difference which were individually invisible but collectively lifted me into my self awareness.

As the next couple of years passed self awareness became an increasingly uncomfortable place. In our community deviation from the norm was generally a bad thing and best controlled or concealed. Overall that worked in my favour I think as it kept me hidden for a while when I might otherwise have been tempted to look for advice. In turn this gave me time to come to terms with an unsettling truth which I deciphered from the more adult themes of some of the endless sermons. Vicious spittle-flecked speeches denouncing the evils of men lying with men left me in little doubt that the same would apply to women had we been worthy of mention at all. I knew in a vague sort of way what ‘lying with’ meant; I was young and repressed not stupid.

By that time my inchoate childish feelings had started their transformation into the deeper more specific yearnings of adolescent attraction. I was watching girls and was even starting to recognise that I was developing a type – taller than me, more slender than me. It was obvious that the direction my development was taking was continuing to veer further out of line with the local status quo and while I was frightened of this because of the impact it was going to have on my life I was still fundamentally accepting of feelings and determined that everything was right with me and it was going to have to be the rest of the world which changed.

So I concluded that the solution was to leave which was unfortunately a really big deal. You’ve got to understand how small my world was at this point. Elverton is a tiny village in rural Kent, bursa sınırsız escort maybe a thousand people in total and most if not all were members of the church. I knew there was a lot more to the world but i’d rarely spoken to anyone who lived outside the village I certainly didn’t know anyone. This wasn’t something I could handle all on my own. I couldn’t just get on a bus. So I came up with my plan and ironically I suppose I needed to find myself a man.

I’ve always been reasonably good at reading people and i’d noticed some interesting reactions in the congregation to the diatribes against homosexuality. Fervent righteous anger, while worryingly common, was no good to me but subdued fear is as easy to spot if you know what you are looking for and there were a few of those. Several far too old, one a little too young (and too female anyway) but one just right. I watched him for a few days to confirm my suspicions and then I tracked him down when he was on his own and sat down beside him.

He glanced over at me with mild curiosity and then away again so I went ahead and hit him with it. The force of will it took for me to release those first four words into the air was almost more than I could manage.

“I like girls Ben.”

He looked back at me baffled. “Ok right. That’s nice.”

“No Ben.” I said. “You’re not listening to me. I like girls. The same way you like boys.”

He tensed and his face closed up completely. “I don’t know what you are talking about and I don’t want to. Leave me alone ok?”

His reaction was very frustrating, but hardly surprising in the circumstances, I shouldn’t have expected anything else really. I pressed on.

“Right, fine. But look, this problem is not going away for either of us and I think you have enough common sense to have figured out that, people like us, we don’t get treated very well around here. I’ve spotted who it is that is catching your eye and figured you out so it’s only a matter of time before someone else does too. You go away and have a think about that and when you are ready come and find me and we’ll talk about how we are going to help each other.”

It took nearly two weeks in the end and I was a nervous wreck by then. I’d done my best to leave things so that he couldn’t say anything about me without drawing attention to himself but, you know what, people don’t always act in their own best interests. He did what he could to avoid me and I did my best not to seek him out so I didn’t see him much. When I did though it kept my hope alive as I caught him gazing over at me a few times making me think it was probably still on his mind.

I was sitting in the same place actually when someone sat down next to me. I looked over and there was Ben. He looked really upset and part of me wanted to give him some support but I just left him to it. I sometimes wonder about moments like that, whether if i’d given him more and strengthened our bond then he would have fought for me later.

Without looking around he muttered, “Sorry, you’re right. Ok what do you suggest.”

He seemed resigned to it rather than enthused but I could work with that.

“Well, I thought we should get married.” I replied

He nodded slowly. I was impressed actually, i’d thought he might object to that. “I can see how that might work. Less risk for both of us that way.”

“No.” my voice was a little louder than I had intended and I made a conscious effort to lower it. “That isn’t enough for me. I’m not just trying to switch this thing off and spending the rest of my life in hiding.”

“What do you mean, what then?”

“We get married, we move away together, find work, and then we both go and find the people we are supposed to be with. That’s the plan. Take it or leave it.”

So he griped a bit first but in the end he took it and we spent the next couple of years just getting on with growing up, talking whenever we could, exchanging gifts like couples do. We let everyone think what they were going to think and sure enough they did. Along the way we learned a lot about each other and shared confidences we couldn’t share with anyone else. How he thought Malcolm was the greatest thing on earth and would love to wrap his arms around him. How I thought Rachel was starting to look really attractive. How Ginny might be turning out to be one of us but she wasn’t my type.

We talked about how we would engineer our eventual departure. Ben’s family were still in occasional contact with relatives outside the church so essentially what we intended to do was to set ourselves up as a household and then petition a sympathetic uncle or aunt for support.

Part 2 – Change of Plan

Joanne Tulley died on the fourth of January. She’d been sickening for most of the previous year, getting thinner and weaker, and I suppose the cold weather was just too much. If she had only held on for another two months how different things might have been. We had agreed between us that Ben would speak to my father just before my birthday but Jacob was knocking on the door only a week after they buried his bursa üniversiteli escort wife. Well he had three children under four years old didn’t he, he needed a housekeeper. It seems my father convinced himself that this would be the best match for me, although I do wonder what pressure might have been applied to help him reach that conclusion as Jacob was an influential figure in the church. I know it’s a sad thing that the best I can think of my father is that he might have been bullied into giving his daughter away to another man.

This was the end of my plan. When I was told (not asked of course) I kept myself together long enough to leave the house and then I went and found a place to sit and I let myself cry. Ginny found me there and I told her what little I could, my hope for a different life wrecked. I think she knew there was more, maybe she even guessed something of the specifics, I was fairly certain she was turning out gay too by that point but wasn’t sure if she even knew herself yet let alone knew how to spot someone else. Her family had only joined the church a few years ago though and she had spent most of her life as an outsider so who knew what mysteries she might know.

Ben dropped me completely. I can only ever remember speaking to him once or twice again after that day. Words had obviously been had as I saw him most days in church sitting across the aisle and he definitely avoided my stare. Looking at him he seemed reduced, just not looking at or interested in anything much at all and it struck me that the trap had sprung for him almost as catastrophically as it had for me. My frustrated anger at him mellowed to sympathy; he’d invested a lot of himself too. I hear he married Hannah in the end so I suppose I had been wrong about that too and he did learn how to make that other side of himself go away after all.

With my perspective now I must have fallen into a spell of depression then. I look back on the following months and all I can really bring to mind are long periods of misery punctuated by two major events.

First came the wedding in April. When a wedding is infused with love then it seems to me it can reach its very best and be the birth of a new belonging. The longstanding emotional bonds weaving each family together are acknowledged and celebrated side by side, in step one with the other until finally the two reach out gently and touch. This point of contact is physically manifested in the two central participants and creates, as they meet and merge, a third entity. Then this newborn entity, this dual individual, dances. And under the loving observation of all assembled spins off around a new common orbit celebrating its mutual belonging.

Mine wasn’t like that. Stripped of niceties the process was exposed for what it was, a brutal transfer of ownership, and when that had all been finalised I went back to my new home with my new owner.

To begin with his expectations of me were demanding but bearable. Keeping house and cookery were work I had been trained for. Looking after the children was harder even with the limited experience I had gained through having younger brothers and sisters. None of them wanted me there, they wanted their mum. Jacob didn’t want me there either he just wanted his house and children looking after and his Joanne back. I didn’t want to be there for sure.

Every single day was one long hard slog with no thanks at the end of it for a job well done or more often badly done. Despite my struggle, which I imagine must have been obvious, as the summer passed and the autumn started to draw in my husband’s expectations of me only became higher and higher. I suppose one day you could say it reached a tipping point. Afterwards as I was hopelessly trying to put myself back together I realised that this was it for me now, just one long hard painful journey from here until the end of my life.

So I lost myself for a while at the end of that day and when I found myself again it was all the wrong way around and I was looking in at my life as if from outside. I was undoubtedly hysterical in a quiet focused way, but it all seemed so straightforward at the time, I could just skip the journey. So I put the children to bed and then went through to the bedroom I had shared with my husband. I hitched the cord of my dressing gown over a beam in the ceiling, tied the other end around my neck and walked off the side of the bed.

****************

I woke in a place I didn’t understand. I had to speak to people, medical people to begin with. A doctor wanted to let me know that I was physically well and had suffered no long term damage but that she had to keep me in hospital for a while – I had been detained temporarily, for my own safety, because of something called the Mental Health Act.

A nurse called Anna came and took some basic details like my name and my age. I remembered her from before I was properly awake and was a bit shy about having been hugged so intimately by her while I was upset. She wanted to understand why I had hurt myself. bursa anal yapan escort I said that I hadn’t expected it to hurt but that didn’t seem to reassure her much. She also mentioned that they had done some tests while I was asleep and someone else would be coming to talk to me about those.

When my next visitor arrived very soon afterwards she was striking, tall, straight black hair with a dark blue stripe through it, dressed very smartly in a charcoal grey trouser suit. She was treated differently and, although I may only have had a vague idea of what the police were, I knew authority when I saw it.

She did give me her full name but she asked me to call her Dione and that is all I remember now. She asked whether it was ok to call me Sarah and I said it was. Dione said she had worked with our community before. She used the formal name for the group which we rarely used amongst ourselves. I guessed that maybe she didn’t know us as well as she thought she did.

“Sarah,” she said, “I need you to understand some things. You are seventeen so you don’t have to go back home unless you want to. If you decide not to then I can help you to meet people who can support you in that decision.

“I also need you to know that your injuries, all of your injuries, have been assessed by your doctors and one of the reasons I am talking to you is that they are concerned you may have been assaulted. Is there anything you would like to say about that?”

I knew what she meant. I knew why i’d spoken to half a dozen different women since i’d woken up and they hadn’t even let a man into the room. I knew all about the pain between my legs. I explained that I had a husband and while I did so I did not cry. Instead I asked if, with that in mind, she could still make it so I didn’t have to go back.

Dione told me that assault could still take place within a marriage and I don’t know to this day why she didn’t try to push me any further after that. I’m not saying I put any blame on her for it, maybe she could see what I could, that this was a battle not worth fighting. Maybe she could see too that this information could be a weapon. One I could use, if I had to, to prevent them from trying to make me go home.

In the end it was my mother who came to see me. She was devastated by what I had done and wanting to know what had brought me to it. I couldn’t bear to let her know the truth so instead I just told her I didn’t want a husband and that maybe one day i’d want a wife. Inevitably, and predictably, she raised her voice to me and I cried again then for all sorts of reasons. It all gets so complicated that it is difficult to know exactly why. Partly I suppose it was because i’d been hurt, partly it was because I was leaving everyone I knew behind, partly it was even relief that in spite of the desolation of all my dreams for the future I was going to get away in the end after all. Lastly and most horribly though it was because i’d told my mother my deepest hidden secret and it had had the effect I had always known it would; it had made her not want me back. Sometimes losing and winning are so closely bound together that you can’t tell when one ends and the other begins.

I was moved to a psychiatric inpatients ward a couple of days after that as my physical injuries were fading. This was quite an introduction to the inhabitants of my new wider world. The people I found I was sharing the ward with seemed almost specifically to be the unsaved I had been taught to fear but then again so was I. Bearing in mind the way i’d been treated by some of the supposedly righteous I thought i’d try to keep an open mind about what a potential friend might look like in the future.

I was there for a couple of weeks which from what I could see was a pretty typical stay. As promised Dione had spoken to somebody on my behalf and during my second week on the ward she visited me again. She had spoken to an organisation called the Blossom Foundation which had been set up a long time ago to provide assistance to people who were leaving insular communities and to teach them how to live in the open society of the UK. It is funded by contributions from former clients and in fact a part of my wage every month still goes to them today. They were offering me a place to live which in the circumstances I had little choice but to accept.

Dione picked me up herself on the following morning when I left the ward. We travelled from the hospital to the Foundation’s residential home, Errwood, by bus which took most of the day. It would have been faster by car of course but for me this was all further familiarisation with the outside world so I didn’t mind. Looking out the window on the way I remember the main thing which struck me was that I’d had no idea there could be so many people.

Errwood was largely composed of the old stone workers’ cottages in the grounds of Errwood Hall the stately home in the Sussex countryside after which it was named. Most of the cottages had been renovated for accommodation and there was a central building, a converted barn, which was split into several communal areas as well as the canteen where we cooked and ate. There was a yurt set up in the paddock for more meditative private relaxation. The community was small with I think about thirty people in residence when I arrived and space for another ten more. In a lot of ways the place seemed very similar to home aside for the notable absence of a church.

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Meeting Her Pt. 03: In Bed

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Lunchtime rendezvous and random encounters in a shower and an office can have a special charm. But to make it a tawdry affair, there has to be regular sessions of adultery despoiling an innocent bed.

In Chapter 1 Nancy has a short visit that begins with a bang.

In Chapter 2, the hired gun visits Isabel’s secret hidaway where they use a bed to take their affair to the next level (up or down, depending on viewpoint). The lady is very anxious for more contact, which continues in Chapter 4. Also, some secrets come out about Isabel’s first lover.

–

Chapter 1. Nancy Visits

Thursday, October 15, 2020

Thursday night Nancy arrived just before the kickoff of the game, and she was anxious for it. She came through my door in a dress but was naked before the ball was down, I guess she removed her underwear in her office after her last class. As I kissed her nipples in greeting (since mouth-to-mouth kissing was not allowed I had to do something) it was clear to me that she was in an unusual mood. Uncharacteristically, she asked for me to please her first.

I think I have mentioned that I am an accommodating guy.

I got right to it, picking her up and taking her to my bed. When I made contact I found she was really wound up for it.

I did not bother to undress or otherwise expose my desire, I crawled between her legs and started to eat her, working my tongue like a demon on her very juicy snatch. She really up for that, she had been thinking about us and she had been thinking for hours about what she wanted me to do to her, so she was very juicy. My quick direct action, being carried to my bed, was a perfect fit for her mood.

There was no conversation, actions said it all. She got off fast, in less than two minutes after hitting the bed she wrapped her legs around my head and howled as her body arched. When she was done with the fireworks she loosened her legs only a little. It seemed a nice way of telling me she was not planning to stop with one.

Imagine a hungry animal, the look in it’s eyes as it is starving, but is closing in on some prey. Nancy was like that, only she wanted to be eaten to exhaustion and then fucked like prey she was the prey, she was hungry for such treatment.

Well, I knew how to feed her what she wanted, I started my tongue working magic again. Damn, she had a pretty smile when she was getting what she wanted.

While she caught her breath after her second climax on my tongue I took a moment to rip off my sweatsuit, then I dove in for act three. She was panting, looking like a hungry tiger, tracking my every move with her eyes, eagerly waiting for me to get her off again. This time I did not stop with one, I went nonstop for ten or fifteen minutes, with her getting off, thrashing and panting and enjoying herself, every 90 to 150 seconds. She was in one of those mood, and healthy enough to enjoy in for a long time… game, set and match. Good thing my tongue was also good for a long match – I talk for a living.

When her energy started to flag and my tongue had was losing feeling, we both decided on a change. I moved up her body, stuck my cock in, and fastened my lips on a nipple. Suck and lash works good on the nips of her tasty chest treats. Now I was wound up and she was ready to enjoy wiggling under me and I moved inside. She adjusted to my motion and joined in the movement, moaning and sighing.

She finally spoke. “You are too wonderful to me. That is perf… YESSSSS! FUCKYESSSSSSS!” She gave the hardest, longest spasm so far, lifting most of my body as her athletic muscles spasmed in release.

That last was her punctuation of my good time as she felt my balls do their “make Nancy happy” thing, filling the empty spot close to her soul, the first of several for the weekend.

I took my time with her after, grabbing lots of little body kisses, which she loved, whispering praise of how wonderful she was as a lover.

When I was done enjoying myself and she was finally exhausted we shared a quick shower, then shared the food I had brought home specifically for tonight. While we were eating she mentioned she was in a good mood because of a tennis match where she beat Isabel. I knew they played on occasion, usually on Wednesdays, and that Isabel usually (90%) won. But they moved the game to early this morning. Maybe Nancy was on her game and Isabel had a rough night. Nancy beat Isabel soundly, by the biggest margin ever, putting her in a good mood all day. Isabel actually hugged Nancy and kissed her cheeks in congratulation, saying she deserved it. I gather Nancy made every move just right so she never had a chance.

She admitted that Isabel was looking a little distracted after, but a win is a win.

In the shower after the game Isabel continued to praise for every aspect of Nancy’s game, some of her shots were super accurate. They went out for a special energy drink and a light meal after and both had a great time. Nancy said it was one of those great times that made gorukle escort them great friends.

I did not realize until that moment that the two were serious regulars at tennis, they tried to play once a week and always showered together after, washing each other’s back but keeping it a friendship, nothing else.

After supper Nancy noticed my state and asked me to stick my cock into her again, only this time we could take our time and chat. She considered that the greatest luxury in our relationship. Once we were settled she talked about the tennis team. There was a connection she had to confess while my cock was inside her. Usually I did not get off for these, she mainly wanted the connection, not the messy business. I was okay with that.

Nancy confessed that when she had been on the college team, oral sex was considered “morale,” and it was usually one-on-one with reciprocation. Some girls took it farther, sneaking into the men’s shower and going from guy-to-guy, this was called “cheerleading” but Nancy did not do that. She liked privacy in a motel for “away” games and a dorm room for “home” matches. They used a system for random matches of oral pleasure. Most folks associated with the team did not consider oral with teammates as sex, so it was not considered infidelity. The idea was that less time spent on the mating games and dealing with “normal human needs” during the season meant more time for practice.

Most of the team members were straight, but Nancy and a few others went both ways. It was a powerful memory, Nancy was activated by it to the extent that both her voice and the state of her pussy were affected. I had hardly moved during the conversation, but as the memories came out, while she talked of different encounters, she had to play with herself at the same time. The guys all liked her, she had a lot of expertise with her mouth and the guys were always grateful. But the emotions were more intense talking about females, strong enough that she climaxed on my cock while talking about some of her more intense incidents with her female partners.

The trigger for this especially good memory was a time when Nancy and another woman were in a locker room, in an aisle that was empty, but as they were taking turns eating each other’s pussy in a 69, with one laying on the bench and the other straddling above. Both girls were in a good “oh we are so bad” mood. Suddenly girls filled the locker room, changing clothes and chattering away, in the aisles on both sides of them, basketball players on one side and swimmers on the other. Nancy and her friend should have stopped, but they were just too turned on and into each other, so they kept at it without any noise.

When she was done with her fireworks after telling the story she was embarrassed to ask for my tongue, to be gentle and get her off again, but slowly. I was pleased to help. That took about 15 minutes. She kind of lost energy for the evening, and she was lost in her own thoughts while I did as she asked. The rest of our evening was pretty low-key, with plenty of cuddles.

I knew Nancy was 5 years younger than Isabel so they were never on the team together. Still, I wondered what would have happened if they had both met me together that night in July, in the shower after a match.

Thusday evening turned into Friday. In the middle of the night Nancy woke me and coyly asked for more service from my smile, which I was happy to give her. We were still limited to face-to-face fucking or oral sex, but she was more needy that usual. I pleased Nancy’s body with my lips and eventually my cock again. This time, after I fucked her for a time, she wanted to finish by taking my cum in her mouth. I was to wait until the last minute, then pull my cock out of her pussy and put it in her mouth. Like before, she was tripping on some memory of her undergrad days. It was strange, no mouth kisses, no snowball or creampie, but she would finished a fuck by sucking me off and then swallowing with a sincere smile.

Nancy slept in my bed all night, cuddling with me more than usual. She was so thin with a light frame that there was a child-like feeling when holding her. Not to say her body was childlike, her nipples were right there, her hips swelled nicely, plus she had a lot of muscle in her shoulders, back and legs. Also, she had a graduate degree and was a top lecturer in the classroom. I guess the whole woman-child thing had me charmed.

When she woke up she helped herself to a salty protein breakfast snack from my balls before we got out of bed. Friday was more relaxed, talking, watching movies (she had never seen “Last Tango…”), and lots of just naked cuddling. We were comfortable holding each other without talking all the time. After the morning BJ there was no more sex for me, the mood had shifted to something more affectionate. She needed to be with somebody who was supportive, good to her without judgement or expectation.

We talked about that. It seemed that I was the altıparmak eskort bayan only person she had ever stayed with, naked in bed, who did not presume upon her charms simply because she was there and the guy had an urge. She saw my physical response to her presence, clearly I desired her, but I was okay with respecting her wishes. She had not been “testing me,” but she confessed that I was the only guy she had ever been with where she could act like that, do those things (fingering herself while my cock was in her), and talk about being with women, without the guy getting upset or making sexual demands. She was very sorry she “bought me off” with the oral finish after she got off from fucking, she said she just didn’t want the mess at that time. (Nancy assumed that an oral climax provided a man less pleasure than a vaginal one.) She said it was just another case where I was too good for her.

I hinted that maybe the problem was in her choice of guys. I had said it outright before, I didn’t need to do that this time. A hint was enough.

Eventually she explained that, until her tennis with Isabel, she had a rough week with her townie boything, her family (who asked boything questions) and worse, her job. A few faculty and staff were natural bullies who were always making things difficult for her. But somebody had trapped them and the Provost got involved. Nancy discovered she had a friend in Hightower.

This was a big deal because the Provost CAN take a person out of the classroom, dock their pay, and start the process to get them fired for cause, even with tenure.

The work stuff was most disturbing, she was showing up some of the others in the classroom and they did not like it. This week the issue involved a difficult question she answered from a student in class. It seemed that a group of students asked each teacher in the course the same question (LIFO process costing, 2 periods, increase then decrease), it was logical but was not in the book and to most folks it does not make sense, which is why the textbook-for-idiots writers kept it out of the book for the intro students. The question was an ambush to see who knew what they were talking about and who was just going through the motions of reading the skimpy outline provided by the textbook’s author.

Nancy, who happened to be the first teacher asked Monday morning, gave the right answer off the top of her head with a shortcut demonstration computation on the spot. The others all flubbed it or tried to dismiss the question, except for the course supervisor who was presented with Nancy’s ‘off the top of her head’ sample facts and gave a different (very wrong) answer. Each response was recorded (cell phones in class only serve the Horned One).

Then the whole thing, unedited, was sent to the Provost Wednesday. He called to ask Dryden who was right. It really is not difficult, but it is not in the book and the others teaching the course were not really cost people. Still, even over the phone there was no question, Dryden backed Nancy’s approach.

An edited version of the whole business would be published on the web next week.

Rumors started Wednesday. Nancy’s response was too perfect, folks wondered if she had set it up to make them look bad (as if), but that was not Nancy. Naturally suspicion shifted to me, aided by our asshole chairmen who felt the winds shift and thought a shit-storm was coming his way (he was right) and that I was capable of such things (I was). But with my short time on campus I didn’t have any contact with sophomores, which was key to the set-up.

Wednesday was especially bad for Nancy, since everybody was talking to everybody else, gathering in their offices, but she was excluded from the conversation and she knew it.

After her last class Thursday she got out of the building and took Isabel’s advice from their talk in the shower, to read the hottest erotica she had then bring her pussy to her secret lover’s hideout for some good feelings.

It turned out Isabel knew a little bit more about the issue, the Provost summarized the issue for Curtis who, knowing his daughter’s friendship with Nancy, shared what was going to happen.

We found out some extra details later. Friday morning the ringleader of this plan revealed himself, he was a nephew of the Provost (different last name). The smart kid did it 100% on his own, but the Provost was glad to have more ammunition for the shit-storm he knew was coming. Now he had a score sheet telling him “naughty” or “nice.” There were lots of names under “naughty.”

Nancy was the only one teaching Cost on the “nice” side of the list, and she was not even in the department but was borrowed from Management.

The course supervisor was not actually teaching the course, he taught Advanced Cost. However, he had selected the folks who were teaching the course, and when first questioned even he said the wrong thing.

Friday evening at 7 (a very inconvenient nilüfer eskort bayan time) the Provost called all the cost teachers except Nancy together, even those who were not on campus Fridays. In his office he delivered a public reprimand about their teaching, saying the film would hit the web, and he would fire immediately, for cause, anybody who even thought of reprisals against the students or Nancy. They were on notice. Nancy got an email about it Monday.

This wasn’t my doing, but it was actually in line with what I needed, the first step at clearing out the losers.

Nancy’s status was something I was fixing, it was in the works but she could not know just yet. When it happened a lot of her former superiors would find things reversed. She could be the new course co-ordinator, if she wanted. At the very least, some staff would not be rehired and faculty would be reassigned. I reassured her that her position was safe, she had powerful allies, and the truth would set people free. As evidence I pointed out that the Provost had not called her in for a talk, so she must have done good and he knew it. Also, Dryden backed her 100%.

Friday evening at 9 Nancy left to do something with her family, she tended to listen when they said it was something important. But it wasn’t, the reason they gave was just an excuse to get her home. She stayed until the third time her mother asked about her love life, then she stomped off. Saturday she worked on her upcoming lectures and Sunday morning was some sort of discussion with her worthless local boything about limits and expectations. Before Noon he wanted her pussy “for good luck” on his football bets but the answer was still a hard “no.”

For now she was convinced that they might be meant for each other; he was a waste of life but he picked her so she must deserve no better. I got the impression that a lot of what she said to him was ignored, but who am I to judge? They were not exclusive, and in fact he never got her pussy – it is some sort of record for her. Still, she told all her friends about him while I was a deep dark secret, except for the things we did work at work. I felt funny about that, but she insisted.

After Nancy left Friday night I made bacon. These days I only eat it on weekends. Then I got to work, putting about 30 hours of work on various projects. Getting paid the big bucks meant working weekends.

Monday, when the ambush video was posted on the web, all the cost teachers had to eat crow in the classroom, a humiliating experience. It had a “Red Guard” flavor to it, if you know about that Chinese calamity. Nancy, on the other hand, was lauded by the student’s video. Word reached the Faculty Senate, where folks who have no idea what LIFO means, much less “process costing” praised her name, diligence, and intelligence, because the internet said so. They were even moved to vote a commendation of Nancy for the record. That was an unexpected bonus that fit with the President’s, and my plans for Nancy.

Tuesday the venerable Dean called for changes in the Spring program, which was supposed to be locked down on September 15. No reason was stated, so everybody assumed it was caused by the process costing video. That put every schedule in the college at risk – except Dryden and Me. The Department Chairs objected, but the Dean said the video had reached the Board. Somebody – their cronies – would pay the price.

Then he mentioned that the video could be amended to show the consequences.

–

Chapter 2. An Affair Requires A Bed

The next Tuesday I had my first regular date with Isabel, at her secret place. It was not where she lived with her husband, but another address. I picked up the food from Zap Shrimp and made my way to Isabel’s secret spot in back at 225 Berry.

It struck me as a bit of a mystery that, after five years of marriage, her husband did not know about this place. The location was ideal, within easy walking distance of the entire campus.

I did considered that maybe his ignorance was because this was a borrowed bed. Would that make the affair more or less tawdry? Still, Isabel did not strike me as a “borrowing” woman, more the type with superior options.

I followed the route Isabel suggested. Promptly at five I opened the door next to the bench to find she was waiting for me in the kitchen, wearing a very sunny smile plus a thin light robe that did not really cover much – it was short enough that I could see the inverted “V” formed by her spread nether lips. These were parted, eager, damp and welcoming. Warmed up by light use.

The inverted “V” is the view I appreciate most in a woman, the sight aroused me.

But the bigger difference was her hair, which drew my eyes. She had a shower cap that first time in the dark, and for the office visit her hair was pinned and clipped so it stayed more or less confined to her back, between the shoulder blades. This time her long lively hair was totally unrestrained front and back, creating a Lady Godiva impression. Honestly, her hair was full enough, she did not need the robe.

I was visibly stunned, which did not hurt her attitude.

I said she looked 5 years younger that way, and was incredibly beautiful. Her reaction told me that was exactly the type of thing her husband never said.

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A Productive Daydream: A Bunny Tale

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Recently, I have taken on a sub with some simple rules and daily tasks for her completion. This story was written by her after I had the idea to have her spend more time creating something and less time on social media. Moving forward, I think I will post more of “My Bunny’s” stories here for posterity and to share the inner workings of her mind with everyone.

This marks the first “Bunny Tale”

—–

Bunny sat at her desk, trying to stave off boredom, typing away mindlessly. The job was always the same, which often led her mind to wander without worry of entering the information incorrectly. It was busy work anyway, something her boss, David, liked to torture her with, making her stay after hours when the office grew still and dark. She often thought it was because he didn’t like to work late alone.

Peeking above the cubicle walls, she could see the soft glow of office lights down at the other end of the corridor. The liminal space between felt otherworldly so late at night and frightened her.

Leaning back in her chair, she let her eyes close briefly as her head tilted back. Her chestnut hair fell away from her face. Bunny let her mind wander back to her boss. The thought stirred warmth within her, and she squeezed her thighs together. The room felt warm suddenly, and she unbuttoned the top few buttons of her blouse, exposing her flesh to the air. Her round breasts quickly rose and fell as her breathing quickened. She imagined his touch on her face, his thumb brushing her lip, parting her lips slightly. She looked into his eyes, escort bayan black and deep.

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought her back to reality. She waved to the janitor and checked the clock. She had only killed 2 minutes.

She squirmed in her seat, which only added to the frustration she already felt. She knew it was wrong to want him. But months of late nights had taken their toll. In her overactive imagination, she had made love to him dozens of times. Sometimes she’d let him take her there in her cubicle, hiking her skirt up, nearly tearing her panties off as he pulled them aside. She could almost feel him slide inside of her, his hands strong hands pulling her hips to him, thrusting deeply as she climaxed.

Other times, she’d imagine she was standing in the ladies’ room at the sink. The sound of the door opening and closing behind her. She could smell his cologne before she saw him appear in the mirror. His cock bulging in his pants. And she wanted it. She wanted it more than anything else. Nothing satisfied her hunger.

Sitting there at her desk, legs tucked under the tabletop, she slipped her fingers under her skirt. Her lips were warm and wet. Bunny gripped the arm rest as her fingers found their place, gently rubbing and teasing out the pleasure. She knew she should get back to work, but the temptation to touch herself more was too great. Biting her lip, she held back a moan as she continued to work her fingers back and forth.

“Bunny,” his voice called her back to her office. Embarrassed, altıparmak escort bayan she pulled her hand from between her legs. “Hey, Bunny!” he beckoned from his office. She nearly sprinted down the hall. Standing in the door, she’d forgotten to button her shirt, her lacy bra showing through the opening, exposing her cleavage. He suddenly didn’t remember why he’d called her to his office.

Her face flushed, red with embarrassment and desire. Her trembling hands quickly moved to button her shirt. “D-don’t-” he stammered, as he rose from his chair.

She couldn’t tell if she was dreaming again. His hand gripped the back of her neck, fingers tangled in her hair. His lips pressed to hers, and he pulled her close. She knew it was wrong, kissing him, desiring him, but the voice of reason had long since left the building. Lifting her from the floor, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he carried her to the desk. Her skirt rode up, exposing her panties, now wet with anticipation. She wanted him inside of her that instant. But he wouldn’t give in that easily.

He wanted to taste her. He had since he hired her. What did a Bunny taste like? He dropped to his knees, breathing deeply, taking her in with all his senses. She gripped his raven black hair as he leaned in, kissing her thighs. He pulled her panties down, exposing her engorged pink flesh, glistening in the lights. She moaned softly as his lips made contact, tongue slipping along the crease, finding it’s way deeper inside. His mouth worked nilüfer eskort against her, licking, and sucking. He pressed his fingers inside of her and felt her tighten against them.

“David,” she whispered his name with reverence. He gripped her thighs and rose to his feet. Bunny instinctively pulled at his belt, releasing the buckle with ease. Then the button and zipper. His pants fell to his feet, leaving only his briefs between them. He rubbed against her, his hard cock pulsing and throbbing.

Reaching forward, she pulled his member from its hiding place, surprised at its size. With a single motion, he thrust himself inside of her soaking wet pussy. She cried out, half in pain and half in pleasure. His thrusting grew rhythmic, like a freight train barreling down the tracks. His brows drawn together in concentration. His breathing matched hers as he fucked her hard on the top of his desk.

Her powerful orgasm nearly knocked her on her back, her hands reaching back to steady herself, sending papers and office supplies flying to the floor with a loud crash. Her body shook, but she called his name and begged him not to stop. “Oh, god! David!!” She cried out to him.

Her pussy soaked him, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold off much longer. He felt his dick grow, and he groaned loudly as he came deep inside of her. They both grew still, just looking at each other, with him still buried in her.

Shock and embarrassment crossed his face as he pulled away. She began to pick the scattered supplies up from the floor. “Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed her attempt to clean up the mess. “We probably should call it a night.”

“Bunny!” Her eyes fluttered open. “Bunny, wake up.”

She blinked.

“You fell asleep. We probably should call it a night. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She shook her head, “Absolutely.”

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Yes! Yes! Yes!

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“Fuck me! Harder, oh God, harder! Right there, yeah baby.”

“Oh, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“There they go again,” I thought, “while I’m here alone on another Friday night.” I was sure my next-door neighbor, Jenna, was now passed out on her bed while her latest triumph smoked a cigarette beside her. I had heard Jenna’s sexual escapades for many a weekend. So many Friday and Saturday nights, the last words I heard before going to sleep were Jenna screaming, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

The best thing about hearing those particular words was that then I knew I could truly sleep. I had sat alone so many times wishing that it was me screaming, “Fuck me!” I wanted a man to touch me, to inspire moaning and screaming. But I just didn’t have Jenna’s “something,” that thing that draws men to you. I fantasized about a cock being pressed against my pussy, ready to be drawn into my wet, waiting hole. I dreamt about a man who would tug gently at my nipples with his lips until my back arched.

Jenna and I were friends and she often asked me to escort her to the newest local hot spot. I had gone a few times but with Jenna in the room, any other woman just fades away. However, she was a great shopping buddy and loads of fun so no matter how much I would like to say I hated her, I just can’t. She’s the kind of person who seemed truly in my corner. Either that or she pitied me. Jenna had never endured a boring weekend. I could vouch for that.

What I usually got each weekend, and had experienced again that night, was some good Chinese food (Yes, the restaurant owner knows I’m always alone. So sad.), another DVD (I didn’t even have the nerve to rent porn.) and because I was “lucky,” a ringside seat to another orgasmic Friday evening vicariously experienced through Jenna. Knowing that the activities next door had completely transpired, I nodded off to sleep.

I awoke early on Saturday morning. Not the gentle, stretching, easy way to wake up. No, I awoke to the sound of the garbage truck lifting the dumpster (that just happened to sit right outside my apartment window) and dumping it into the truck. Startled, I drug myself out of bed and into the bathroom. I looked a mess. Knowing I should get into the shower and get my day started, I reached for the water nozzle.

“Nope, coffee first!” I convinced myself.

After three cups of coffee, a valiant attempt to read the paper and a quick glance at the television, I finally made it to the shower. I turned on the water, nice and hot. I slipped off my gown and stepped into the shower, the steam and wetness suddenly helping me to wake up.

I began to lather the soap and wash myself from head to toe. As my hand slipped between my legs to wash, my fingers lingered at my clit, which had suddenly become more swollen and hard. I began to run my middle finger over my clit, eventually letting it slip up into my pussy.

I reached out of the shower and into a basket sitting on the shelf. Rifling through the basket, my hand finally found what it was searching for, my vibrator. As my finger found its way in and out of my pussy, I let the vibrator work its magic on my clit. As the sensation became more intense, I had to lean my shoulder against the side of the shower stall for support.

I felt my thighs begin to tremble and then sensed a tightening in my groin as I released and came, juices running down my legs. I reached down and tweaked at my clit a little more. The sensations heightened and I felt myself cum again.

After the shower, I quickly finished getting ready, dressing in jeans and a bright blue tank top. I needed to head to the bookstore to pick up some research books I needed to study for my next story. Grabbing my purse, keys and my fourth cup of coffee, I headed out the door.

I jumped in my car and rolled down my window, enjoying the cool spring breeze blowing against my arms and görükle escort bayan through my hair. After a good masturbation session, everything seems more intense and I could just feel an air of confidence surround me. This would be a good morning. And after last night, I needed some cheering up. Maybe I’d head round to the shoe store to treat myself before heading home this afternoon. It just seemed like that type of day.

I got out of the car and headed into Barnes & Nobles for the books I needed. I opened the door and upon entering, pushed my sunglasses up, pulling my long blonde hair back away from my face. Shaking my head a little and readjusting to the change in light, I looked up straight into the eyes of the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.

He stood at the New Releases shelf and had been reading the back of the latest John Grisham novel. He had sandy blonde, wavy hair, a little on the long side of what I usually liked. He was wearing an Old Navy t-shirt and baggy, old, worn-in jeans. But it was his eyes that seemed to paralyze me. They were the most beautiful shade of hazel, almost brown but with a touch of green. Upon eye contact, the corners of his mouth turned up into a charming smile showing his slightly crooked yet charming teeth.

I also quickly allowed myself a glance toward his zipper checking out what he may have packaged beneath the denim.

Suddenly, feeling I’d stared too long, I broke eye contact and turned to head to the section of the store I had originally planned. His words made me freeze again.

“Liz, Liz Harper, is that you?”

“Could this fine specimen really know me?” I thought. I looked his way again, frantically searching for where I had seen this man before and needing to know how I could’ve forgotten him.

“Yes, hi. I’m sorry. Have we met?”

“Well, not actually, I do some freelance writing for the paper you work for. I just know you from your byline picture.”

“Oh, I didn’t really think I’d forget someone like you.” I immediately blushed, embarrassed that I’d let my attraction become so obvious.

He let out a small laugh, blushing along with me. “Well, I just wanted to say that I enjoy your writing. I’ve always wanted to meet you. You’ve just never been in your office when I had the opportunity to come through.”

My head was spinning. “This guy? This guy had always wanted to meet ME?”

“Well, I’m Liz. I suppose you know that already. And you are?” I stretched my hand out for a shake.

“Todd Reynolds. I did the piece on the recycling woes in the city.”

“Oh, yes. I remember that. Did you do all your own research?”

“Yes, I always try to. Is that why you’re here today? Research?”

“You got it. What else could get me up this early on a Saturday?” I laughed. I was thinking to myself that I wish he were keeping me in on a Saturday morning.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your research. It was really nice to finally meet you. We’ll have to get together for coffee sometime.”

“Sounds great.” I managed to say. “Damn, this guy is so smart and so hot.” I thought, “I wish I could think of something fabulous to say.” “Let me know, we’ll get together.” was all I managed.

After another mutual smile, I headed off down the aisle, trying not to skip. I had just gotten my nose into a book on the history of jazz when I heard a familiar voice say, “Hey, what are you doing tonight?”

I turned to look at Todd and said, “No major plans, how about you?”

“Wanna change that coffee to dinner and go tonight?

“Sure. That would be great.” My cheeks were hurting from smiling so much.

“Okay, how about we head to the new Chinese place on 4th and Jones? Shall I pick you up?”

“Sure, I’m at the Red Oak Apartments on Cherry St. It’s apartment 12. Say, 7:00?”

“I’ll see you then Liz. I can’t wait.”

I smiled. I couldn’t altıparmak eskort wait either. I waited for him to get to his car and leave before I ran out of the bookstore and headed to my favorite clothing store, just had to have new clothes for this date.

At 6:54, I heard the knock at my door. I was wearing a black mini-skirt and a hot pink tank. Underneath, I had worn a hot pink bra and thong to match. And to lift my confidence level a bit I’d completed the outfit with black high heels. I opened the door and he was breathtaking in black pants and a bright blue shirt. I could see a bit of his chest hair at the top of his shirt and had to keep myself from trying to touch.

Dinner was a lovely mix of laughter and conversation. But the reality was, I wanted this man and I wanted him bad. Each time he shared a story, I touched his arm as I let my head lean back in laughter. I sent all the signals but I wasn’t sure they were working.

We headed to the car after eating. As he opened my door, I sat down in the car. My skirt slipped up and was showing quite a bit of my long, bronze legs, but instead of pulling it down, I looked up at Todd. He had noticed my skirt and was staring right at my thighs. Ever so subtly I let my legs ease apart a bit, sending him the signal that he had the go ahead for physical activity tonight. As he closed the door, I swore I saw some movement in his pants.

He headed around to the driver’s side of the car. As he sat down, I could plainly see that he was hard. Feeling confident and quite nervy for my normal personality, I reached over and took his hand. I put it on my thigh, his fingers sliding between my legs. I easily led his hand down further and underneath my skirt. When his fingers grazed my thong, he reached over and kissed me.

It was a good first kiss. It wasn’t too forceful but it was definitely urgent. I was first to break our lips with a tongue. Our tongues met and danced together as his hand rubbed against the fabric of my panties. On the other side of that fabric, my pussy was on fire. It was already running with my juices. As I felt his finger slide underneath the fabric, I was unable to hide my excitement.

Upon Todd feeling the dampness there, both our eyes opened for a second and we both smiled. I reached out for his cock. I had been correct before, it was massive and it was hard. Through the fabric of his pants, I could feel the groove where his head met the shaft. As I rubbed, he responded even more.

“We have to get out of here.” Todd said. “Where to? Your place? I have roommates.”

“That’s fine, just get there fast okay?”

“ Oh believe me, it’ll be fast.”

As he drove, he let his right hand stay buried in my panties, his finger rubbing against my lips, causing me to get even wetter. And I kept a constant hold on his prick, just imagining what it would feel like inside me.

As I opened the door to my apartment, we were already intertwined, our bodies, our tongues and our hands. As I turned to close the door, I felt his hands grasp my ass and pull me closer to him. Then his hands moved to the top of my blouse and slip it over my head. I turned around and he unzipped the skirt. It fell into a puddle on the floor.

There I was standing in a hot pink bra and thong and black high heels. I felt like the sexiest woman alive. My breasts were perky and the nipples hard. He sat down on the couch and began to take off his shoes. I walked toward him, unbuttoned his shirt and laid it over the back of the couch.

He stood, took off his pants and looked at me. I reached over, put my fingers inside the top of his underwear, my hair grazing his cock as I took them all the way to the floor. He sat down again, his massive dick standing straight up. I reached back and unfastened my bra. I bent down and slipped off my thong. As I was about to take off my shoes, nilüfer escort Todd said, “Leave them on, they’re sexy.”

He motioned for me to come toward him. “How do you feel about 69?” he said.

“I have never done it but I hear it’s great.”

He took one of my legs motioning for me to sit down close to his face. As I did, I felt his tongue brush against my pussy lips, causing my back to arch and a small moan to come out of my mouth. He reached up with his fingers and began to play with my clit. He followed this with long, warm penetrations of my pussy by his tongue.

As I writhed in pleasure, I leaned down and began to lick around the head of his penis. Taking only the head in my mouth at first, I wrapped my fingers around his thick shaft and began to pump it, quickly then slowly and quickly again.

As I felt his tongue enter me more deeply each time, I began to take more and more of his cock into my mouth. I could taste his precum and knew he was enjoying it.

His tongue flicked in and out of my pussy, all the while his finger flicking at my clit. As I began to suck more eagerly at his cock and play with his balls, I felt a finger slowly and gently enter my ass. “Aaaaahhhh,” I said as the sensation was heightened.

His tongue darting more and more quickly into my pussy, I began to take him faster and faster in and out of my mouth. I could feel myself close to climax and began to squeeze lightly on his balls. I felt his body tighten as he filled my mouth with his warm juice.

At the same time, my back arched and I felt myself cum, his tongue lapping up every drop. I swallowed everything his dick had to offer and turned over to face this man who’d made me cum harder than I ever had before.

Todd smiled and I smiled back. “Maybe I should see your bedroom now,” he said breaking the silence.

“Right this way sir.”

He held my hand as I led him into the bedroom. I could feel his gaze go from my neck to my ass and back.

“Okay, Liz, what do you want me to do to you?” Todd said.

Not used to asking for what I want, I replied, “Whatever you want to do to me.”

“No, you have to tell me.”

“Okay,” I said gathering up my nerve. “I want you to fuck me.” I said in an almost inaudible voice.

“What Liz? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I want you to fuck me.” I said again in an undecipherable voice.

“Liz, I want to do this but you’re going to have to tell me.”

Something inside of me broke out. I said, (well, actually screamed was more like it) “Fuck me Todd. I want you to fuck me.”

“That’s more like it.”

He stepped forward and guided me toward the bed. He turned me over on my stomach, touched my hips and began to pull them upward. I could tell what he was looking for so I obliged. I got up onto all fours and looked back at him. His cock was hard again and aimed directly at my pussy.

As he entered me, my head leaned back. I could feel the tip of his dick hitting the front of my body from the inside. I felt his balls hit against my clit. Again, I felt him enter my asshole with a finger and then two. As our rhythm became one, I could feel my wetness running down my legs. He reached down and touched and then made sure I saw him lick his fingers.

He began to thrust faster and I knew we were both close to cumming again. I was completely into our rhythm and was ready to burst when I heard a voice that I now know was mine screaming, “Fuck me! Harder, oh God, harder! Right there, yeah baby.”

“Oh Liz, I’m cumming.” I felt his warmth ooze into my pussy.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I found myself screaming as I joined him in his ecstasy.

We fell into a ball of two bodies, exhausted from our activities and fell asleep.

The next morning I awoke to find myself enveloped in Todd’s arms. Smiling I decided to get up to make us some breakfast and have a quick read of the paper before Todd woke up.

As I opened my front door to collect the paper, I ran into Jenna walking down the hall.

“Hey, Liz. Sounded like a good night in there.” She winked.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I said, masking my blush with a smile.

I headed back inside for breakfast and a Sunday morning fuck.

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Worth Every Penny

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I had only had a few drinks, and so was thinking and talking pretty clearly, despite me swaying every now and again. The cold air and dark streets made it harder to walk in a straight line, but mostly the alcohol in my system was mostly just making me light-headed. I had been ditched by my friend at the bar, who’d sauntered off with a hot guy from France, but I was in a good mood. I gave an overly-friendly smile to a passing woman, who looked at me suspiciously.

The streets were dark and I was quite a long walk from home, but I wasn’t worried. This area of town rarely saw any danger, and besides the booze had made me optimistic. I turned down an alley that connected two quiet roads, taking a route I hadn’t taken before.

Sitting on the floor was a man, indiscernible under the shadow of the wall that he leant against with the glare of a streetlight in my eyes. I made the connection that he was a homeless guy, with nowhere to go for the night. Being in my overly friendly frame of mind, I walked over and slumped down next to him. “Howdy.”

He looked at me and gave a humoured smile. “Hey there. Been out?” When I nodded, he prodded further. “Had fun?”

“Yeah, it was a laugh. And the booze was cheap.” He laughed at that. I gave him a sympathetic smile. “Got no place to go tonight?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but then registered what I had meant and started to laugh. “I’m not homeless, you know. I just had a few too many drinks and sat down. I live up on Newgrate.”

I went a deep shade of red, but he seemed to find it funny so I let it drop. “Newgrate? Not in the big houses, with the columns and french windows?”

He chuckled. “I’m afraid so.”

“You must be filthy rich then!” He gave a modest smile, but I pushed further. “How much money have you got on you, right now?”

At this he looked around, saw nobody was looking, and brought out his wallet. In it was a thick wad of money, more than I’d ever seen before. The look on my face must have been priceless – he at least had the decency to go red. “Earlier today I was meant to put a deposit on a car but never got round to it. This is one grand, but I don’t normally carry this around.”

Since I’d started at Uni I had been constantly low on money, always having to borrow from my friends. I could never have asked my parents, who had been in debt since they’d first had me. This was about ten times as much money as I’d ever seen in one go.

I realised I was staring and tried to smooth it out but he was interested in my reaction. “How far would escort bayan bursa you go for this money?” he asked, seeming genuinely curious.

“I would do a lot of things,” I laughed.

“Would you kill someone?” At first I was startled, but seeing the glint in his eye showed me he was joking and I laughed. “Maybe not that far.”

“Would you suck a dick?” This time I actually thought about it. It did sound a tempting offer, and it was a lot of money, but my conscience went into overdrive and I came out with, “No.”

However, even though it had been for only a second, I had hesitated on this one. He noticed straight away and grinned. “I think you would!”

“That’d be prostitution!” I protested.

“It’d be you having some fun, and getting a whole lot of money at the end of it.” His voice was smooth, and he put it like it was a fun game that I could be playing.

I snorted. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. What do prostitutes get, 100 for the night? If they’re lucky. Nobody’s gonna pay me one grand to suck their dick.”

“I would.”

My head snapped round to look at him. The gleam was back in his eye, but it wasn’t one of jest this time. This was a genuine proposition. I laughed loudly but nervously. “You’d give me all of that money to suck your dick? I don’t think so.”

“Why not? It’s just a bit of fun. And it’s not like I don’t have the money to spare.” I declined, but again I allowed myself a second’s hesitation, so he dove in head first. “You’re a college girl, am I right? You need this money, and it’s not like the job market’s forgiving. So what’s the worst that can happen? I’ll get pleasure, you’ll have fun and get a big wad of money at the end of it, so nobody loses!” I laughed, but it was an uncertain one – why was this so tempting?

I imagined myself doing it. I’d take out his dick, and just suck it, right here in the street. I felt my mouth water slightly but there was no way I could do it. What if someone saw? The rumours would destroy me completely. What if he had an STI? Unlikely, from his background, he could get all the attention he needed, but it was a risk. Anyway, it was degrading to women, and was morally wrong.

And then he did something completely wrong, completely inappropriate, but it silenced every single voice in my head telling me that I shouldn’t do it.

With that hand that wasn’t holding his bulging wallet, he reached into his bulging trousers and pulled out his dick.

It wasn’t that it was an especially nice dick. I mean, a dick is bursa sinirsiz eskort a dick, and admittedly his was slightly thicker than most, but it was average length and there was nothing special about it. But it was one of the single biggest turn-ons of my life. Partially this was due to his attitude, his confidence in just being able to take out his dick and expect me to suck it. Partially it was the fact that a part of me liked that he and his wallet had a dominance over me, a type of control. But mostly it was because it was just suddenly there. I didn’t slowly get it out in the bedroom, when it was expected of me. It was in the middle of the street, at the most unexpected of situations, but it was just standing there, hard as a rock, pointing straight up towards the sky. It was completely out of place, completely inappropriate, and it was unbelievably attractive.

I was speechless. I had nothing to say, my mind was numb. My eyes drifted from dick to wallet to dick, but no thought processes were going through my mind.

The man seemed to sense my daze. He reached up a hand and pushed some of my hair behind my ear. His hand stayed on the side of my face, before moving round to the back of my head. He didn’t push my head downwards – I’m not sure he even applied any pressure – but somehow his hand seemed to guide my head downwards towards his dick.

Had I been at another angle, had I had to shift my position in order to suck him, the spell might have been broken. But somehow I was sitting in the perfect position to just dip my head down. I bent over, and my mouth went over his dick. My lips softly traced his hard shaft, travelling further down his dick. Then I squeezed, and pulled my lips back up to his head.

There was a dick in my mouth. A rock hard, thick cock just sitting in my mouth, ham mocked by my lips and tongue. My heart beat was racing and my mind was whirring with a mixture of emotions. I felt confused, I felt a little bit scared, but mostly I felt excited. This was unbelievable, this must be a slutty dream – and yet as I pushed my head downwards it was a solid, real dick that twitched in my mouth.

His hand stayed on the back of my head, gently pushing every time I went down. I sucked up and down, caressing his shaft with my moist lips. My tongue traced his bulging veins and stroked the underside of his head.

He tilted his head back with pleasure and moaned, but then seemed to decide that his need to watch me was greater than anything else. He stared escort bayan intently at my brunette head smoothly sinking down on his dick before pulling upwards with a suck of my mouth, breathing heavily. My nipples had hardened through my shirt and I longed to play with them, but all my focus was on his dick. I flicked the slit at the end with my tongue and his whole body quivered with pleasure.

I went down again but this time his hand pushed more firmly, not letting me come up. Realising straight away what he wanted me to do, I gripped my thumb and slowly pressed forwards. Fighting the gagging sensation, I felt the round head of his dick pushing past my uvula and into my throat. His dick twitched with the intensity and my throat automatically clenched on his dick. He gave a loud gasping moan at that, and I felt the head of his cock bulge.

I pulled out, tracing pleasure lines on his dick with my wet tongue, but when I pushed forwards I once again opened my throat to him. My mouth was deep, so when he was in my throat I was able to lick the very base of his dick with a stretched-out tongue. I pulled away slowly, allowing me to lick all the way from base to tip while sucking sensually on his shaft.

He was loud and the alley wasn’t particularly secluded, so at some point at least one person must have seen us, but the alcohol working with the huge amounts of adrenaline made me blind to all else but his and my pleasure. I had forgotten about the money, it had left my mind – I was focussing purely on giving him as much and as many different types of pleasure as I could.

After a few more minutes of intense sucking, his dick began to twitch more violently and I knew he was going to cum. The head of his dick swelled up and, knowing it would be sensitive, I drew out and sucked only on that. His load was building up and building up but my sucking was teasingly minimal, only allowing him to get close. I carried out my fun as long as I could but, sensing that he couldn’t last much longer, I plunged my mouth down on his dick. His thick cock exploded with cum, filling up my mouth almost instantly and swilling down my throat. I held back a gag until the urge to had gone away, at which point I sat up and swallowed my mouthful. We both sat there, panting.

He pulled out 900 from his wallet and stuffed it in my hand. “The last hundred is for when you clean my dick,” he panted.

I bent back down without a word and put his now-limp dick in my mouth. It hardened slightly at the sensation but it was extremely sensitive, and he gasped loudly with every lick. I licked all the cum of his cock, gave one final suck and sat up.

He breathed deeply, his chest heaving up and down. As if in a trance, he slowly pulled up his trousers and did up the zipper. He leant back, and chuckled breathlessly.

“Worth every penny.”

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XXX Movies Ch. 2

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(Continued from ‘XXX MOVIES – Part 1)

I had been in an almost constant state of sexual arousal for a week, but watching those porno movies had really gotten me turned on. I’d had enough of watching someone else do it, and I wanted some for myself.

As I slid over onto John’s lap, he used the remote to turn off the TV. I put my arms around his neck, we kissed, and his hand slid inside my robe to find my nipples just waiting for his touch. Then he stood me up in front of him, opened my robe, and I let it fall to the floor. He dipped his fingertip in the Grand Marnier and spread the liqueur over one nipple It felt both cool and warm at the same time; tingly on that sensitive area. Then John circled the tipof his tongue around that swollen nipple and finally sucked it into his mouth. It felt wonderful Then he dipped his finger again and gave the same treatment to the other nipple. By the time he had gotten all the Grand Marnier off me, both my nipples had been kissed, licked, and sucked until they tingled and stuck out like little red berries. I could also feel my pussy getting wet. It felt wonderful.

John stood, took me into his arms, and we shared a deep, lovely kiss, with Herman insistently poking me in the tummy. I put my hand between us to untie the belt of his robe, and reached up to slide it off his shoulders so we were standing there naked, kissing. He picked me up like I was weightless, carried me to the bedroom, and stood me up while he pulled the covers down. Herman was sticking straight out from his body and looked very inviting and eager. When John took me into his arms again, we kissed, and I used my hand to put Herman pointing up, between our stomachs. He was hot and doing a lot of throbbing, so I rubbed my tummy against him to encourage him. Ohhhh, I can hardly wait to get that hot, hard penis inside me. I hope John doesn’t do that forestuff and make me wait too long.

We lay down, and our bodies naturally got into the position I had come to love so much: On our sides with our heads on the same pillow, lips and tongues together, arms around each other, legs intertwined, and big, warm Herman rubbing against my tummy. I sure didn’t need any foreplay, but John spent a long time kissing me, making love to my breasts with his lips, stroking my inner thighs, and finally kissing down my stomach to my mound. John’s tongue found my sensitive clitoris, and he licked me until I was almost to go over. Oh, I love this, but I wish he would stop teasing me and give me what I want. He knows what I want.

I loved all that kissing and petting, but what I was really wanting was to have big, warm Herman inside my pussy. It was all wonderful, but everything he did just made me want him inside me that much more. If foreplay is supposed to arouse me to want sexual intercourse, it sure works! Not that I needed any arousing. I wanted him in me before he ever started, and now I’m going to go crazy if I don’t get it right now! It feels like my pussy is really gushing. Miss Kitty knows what she wants, and is she ever ready! I think I might come before he gets all the way into me. I need to be fucked, right now!

John finally got between my legs, and I spread my knees wide and high to welcome him. I reached down to guide big, warm Herman, and I was quickly getting my entrance stretched. John entered me really slowly, going in a little, pulling back, going in a little more, pulling back. He was making me wait, teasing me, and I loved it. When I could finally feel John’s pubic bone against mine and Herman’s tip poking my cervix, I was just about to come. He held his penis very still, though, so I never actually went over, although the feel of him throbbing and jerking inside me kept me right on the brink.

Then I pulled him down to me for a deep kiss, and that was all it took to get me over. I had a tight little orgasm that made me tingle all over with pleasure. There was no yelling, scratching, or any of that, and I don’t think John would have even known I’d had a climax if I hadn’t pulled his hair a little and moaned görükle escort into his mouth.

John whispered, ‘Did you just come, Sweetie?’

I said, ‘Oh, yes, Lover. It was a sweet, gentle one. The kind that just make me want more.’

He got back up onto his hands and started moving big, warm Herman slowly in and out of me. He kept this up for a long, wonderful time. Every time I opened my eyes to look up at him, I found him looking down at me. I finally asked him what he was looking at, and he said he loved to watch the expressions on my face while we made love. He thought the looks on my face left no doubt as to what was happening to the rest of my body. For some reason this was very erotic to me, and I suddenly was close to another orgasm. It’s amazing. I don’t know why, but when we’re making love, something like kissing orJohn telling me about the expressions on my face can almost make me go over. The more experience I get, the more questions I have. It’s all wonderful.

I put my arms around John’s neck and pulled myself up to him for a kiss. Then I reached my legs up and wrapped them around his waist and pulled the rest of my body up. John was on his hands and knees, and I was hanging from him, not touching the bed at all. This really turned me on, and I started rocking back and forth while hanging there, causing his penis to move back and forth inside me. John pushed forward to meet me when I moved, and that made Herman go nice and deep into me.

Herman’s shaft was sliding along my clitoris with every stroke, and my climax came over me very suddenly. As that orgasmic dam inside me burst, I used my strong legs to thrust my pussy hard up against him, fucking myself with that big, hard penis in my vagina. I had a short, very hard climax, and I could hear myself yelp at my peak and moan loudly as I slowly came down. Mmmmmmmmmm

When I had come down a little, I lost all the strength that had kept me hanging from John, and I just let go and flopped back down onto the bed with an ummmpf. Unfortunately, this caused my vagina to lose Herman. Maybe that was best, though, because if he had stayed in my pussy John would have had a real climax and he would have been finished for the night.

As it was, I felt something wet and warm on my stomach and looked down just in time to see John’s penis give a big upwards jerk and a long, thick, white gusher of semen shot out of his little slit and down onto me. The first part of the stream landed all the way up between my breasts, and the rest left a trail down below my belly button. Wow! That’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. I didn’t know it would spurt that far. I’ve felt him gusher in my mouth, but I’ve never seen it.

Herman jerked again, and another gusher left a trail from my right breast down to my hip bone. I could feel some of it running down my side. This was such a turn on for me that I almost had another orgasm without even being touched. Almost. After a smaller gusher and some dribbling on my tummy, Herman was through, and I put my hand down to guide him back into my wide open pussy. He was definitely smaller and not as hard, but after a few strokes he was big, warm and wonderful inside me again.

I had no experience with having semen all over me, so I just did what seemed natural: I scooped some up with two fingers and sucked them clean. Really thick. Sweeter than it was this afternoon. The sweetest I’ve ever tasted. Must be from the Grand Marnier he was drinking. No, I don’t think so. How could something he drank affect the taste of his semen?

I pulled John down to me for a kiss, and he seemed to be as hungry for it as I was. He didn’t even seem to mind that my lips were cummy and that I had semen all over the front of me. He lowered himself onto me, moved around, and smeared it all over the front of both of us, our mouths never parting. That was a really big turn on for me, and I nearly went over again. Wow! Things like watching John gush semen on me or rubbing it all over us can almost bring me to a climax. Even eskort bayan a kiss when I’m close can put me over. Just something he says. There’s a lot more to orgasms than just what’s happening to my button and pussy. The more sex we have, the more I find out I don’t know. Boy, do I ever love learning!

John turned us on our sides with my leg under his waist. We shared long, deep kisses while big, warm Herman moved slowly and wonderfully in and out of me. After a lovely long time of gentle stroking in and out, kissing, and murmuring, John pulled Herman out of me and got to his knees. He told me to get on my hands and knees. I remembered seeing women on the porno movies doing that, so I did as I was told and got onto my hands and knees. I thought of the way dogs do it.

Unfortunately, moving like that somehow forced the air out of my vagina and there several short, loud, awful farting sounds. Brrrrrrrt brrrrt brrrrrrrt John took my hips with his hands and lifted my back end to suit him, then he plunged Herman into me. I guess my vagina had filled with air again, because John’s penis going into me caused another long, loud, wet noise as the air was forced out of me. I was embarrassed, and I giggled, but John laughed and said that ‘pussy farts’ were just a part of lovemaking. Pussy farts. That really sounds gross! It feels kind of good in a sexy way when it happens, though. I guess it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but I sure wish it didn’t sound so awful.

After John had my hips positioned the way he wanted them, he put one arm under my waist to hold my back end high. He used the other hand to push down between my shoulder blades and told me to lower my front end. I went down to my elbows, but he wanted me down further, so I ended up with only my face, breasts, and knees touching the bed. I had to get rid of the pillow and lay with my cheek on the matress. I felt kind of embarrassed being in that position with my ….. uh …. my anus on display. I also missed being able to watch John as we made love, but I got a nice side view in the mirror.

I watched John slide big, warm Herman into me, and he went deep. In that position, the tip of his penis was going to places inside me that had never been touched before. When I felt stretched almost to the breaking point, John slowly kept pushing even deeper. Oh, my God! If he goes any deeper something’s going to break. This is scary. I’m afraid he’s really going to hurt me. Ohhhhhhh, it feels wondderfuullll! I was in a panic, and I cried out for John to be careful, he was going to hurt me. He responded this by taking my hips in his hands and pulling me up and back while he plunged his penis into me.

I felt a brief stab of pain and I had the feeling that something kind of give way deep inside me, like what happened when John popped my cherry, but a lot farther up. It felt like something went crunch. Then John was lifting my back end completely off the bed and starting fucking me hard and deep. I guess whatever had happened up in there made more room for Herman, because he was slamming into me with long, hard, deep strokes, but it didn’t hurt anymore and I loved it.

Every time he went full-length into me, my pussy was being stretched and battered, and I it was wonderful! Our bodies went smack, smack, smack as they came together, and I loved it, loved it, loved it. I had my arms out and my hands braced against the headboard of the bed so I could push back when John thrust forward and make sure I got rammed hard. It also kept me from getting my head banged into the headboard. I was just on the verge of the biggest orgasm anyone had ever had when he lowered my hips and started moving more slowly. I had been so close to a real monster climax that I sort of stayed close to the edge.

After John had stroked slowly in and out of me for a while, I was able to back away from the brink of that huge climax that never quite happened. I was just drifting along in the wonderful bliss of being made love to. After being in that position altıparmak escort for a while I decided it wasn’t so embarrassing after all, and it gradually seemed to be perfectly natural and wonderful. It would have been even better if we had been able to kiss.

John pulled his penis out of me and slid it back and forth in the crack of my behind several times. At first it felt weird, then it felt kind of good, then I definitely liked it. By the time he put Herman back where he belonged I had a well lubricated crack.

I felt John’s finger feeling around my …… umm …. my anus, and I clenched it tight. I didn’t want him putting his finger up in there. When he took his finger away, I let it relax, and. the next thing I knew, he had a fingertip up ….. up my……. well, up my ass. I clenched tight, and he told me very sternly to relax my anus. I guess I had become accustomed to obeying him immediately, because I actually did relax it. I yelled, ‘Oh, John, don’t ………………………… Ohhhhh,’ and I had the full length of what seemed to be a huge finger all the way up in my rectum, and no amount of anus clenching was going to remove it.

He held his finger there and started fucking me again, and the pleasure of that sort of took my mind off of that finger …. back there. He whispered several times for me to relax the muscle, and I really tried. At first, every time I tried to relax my muscle it felt like I was going to …..have an accident, so I clenched. I knew I wasn’t, though, so I kept trying to relax. Finally I got the hang of it, and I found that, as long as my anus was relaxed, having his finger in my rectum wasn’t uncomfortable.

John moved his finger around in there a little, and I actually started to feel some pleasure. He pulled his finger out a little, then put it back all the way in, and I sort of liked that. Then he would slowly pull the finger almost all the way out, then slide it back in. It got to feel pretty good. Then he would pull the finger out as he slid Herman deep into my pussy and slide the finger in as he pulled his penis back. He never pulled his finger out all the way, just slid it back and forth. The regular finger in-Herman out, Herman in-finger out started feeling very good.

He slowly increased the speed, and I felt the beginnings of an orgasm building from what his penis was doing in my vagina. Much to my surprise, I was getting the same feelings from my … um……. behind. Oh, my God! It’s like I’m being …….. well, like I’m being fucked twice! If he keeps this up, I’m going to go over. I wonder which one is going to push me over, Herman or finger, pussy or ………. bottom.

John started fucking me harder and faster and sliding his finger in and out in rhythm with the strokes of his penis. I heard him moan, ‘Ohhhh, Baby, I’m going to come.’ Then he started slamming his penis into me, keeping his finger stroking at the same time. This was enough to burst the dam inside me. Boy did it ever burst! It shattered, blew up, disintegrated, exploded. My brain was getting waves of orgasm from my vagina and my behind at the same time, and I just lost all control.

I heard myself scream as the full force of my climax hit me. Not just a little yelp, either. Eeeeooooowwwwww I was experiencing the incredible ecstacy of an orgasm, but I screamed like I was being murdered. Then my teeth clenched, those red and yellow lights flashed inside my eyes, huge bells rang in my head BONG BONG BONG, both feet started cramping, and I pushed back with my hands as hard as I could to keep from being driven right through the wall by the force of John’s thrusts. I could hear myself grunt every time John slammed into me, and I sort of shrieked between grunts. I was at a height of an orgasm and at a peak where I had never been before. It just went on, and on, and on. There was no coming down from my peak. My overloaded mind only had one thought: I’m going to die, and I don’t care. I just want this to go on forever. I’ll die in ecstacy. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Then everything was black and silent.

________________________________________

Diane’s next new experience? Read ‘Three O’clock in the Morning’ by MathGirl at Literotica.com

Comments always welcome. Votes are nice, too.

Everyone in the story over eighteen, of course.

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Eva – Valentine’s Edition

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Eva

Lily Rockmore

*

Oh, fuck! That hurt.

I looked into the enraged blue eyes of my lover, shooting wary glances at the perfectly manicured hand that was still partially raised in the air. My left cheek was sore where she’d hit me and I wondered absently if it would leave a bruise.

Monica’s chest was heaving, the indecently large mass of her breasts pushing against the low neckline of her pink Chanel dress. She looked like the perfect Miss Barbie. It was just too bad that I’d cheated on her. I didn’t make a habit of cheating, but it wasn’t technically considered cheating if your partner cheated first, right?

“Thanks for that, Monica. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave now,” I said, lifting a hand to my stinging cheek.

“Leave? You want me to leave?” she sputtered, her disbelieving eyes locking with mine. Monica had baby blues that glimmered beautifully when she cried. I’d fallen for the helplessness in those eyes once before.

“Yeah,” I replied, leaning on the railing of the balcony and pulling my cigarette case out. “Tell Marie to buzz me when the five o’clock is in, would you?” It was an efficient dismissal. I turned away to light a cigarette, looking down at city traffic from the twenty-fifth floor of my office. I waited to hear the click of her heels as she walked away. Instead, a sudden, surprisingly strong hand clamped on my right shoulder turned me around and pushed me against the railing, holding me in place. The cigarette dangled precariously between my fingers. Monica pushed herself against me, making me back up until the black steel of the railing dug into my ass.

“Why’d you do it?” she hissed. The vulnerable maiden façade she liked to put up had faded, and now, she just looked like an angry bitch. “Why, Jessie?”

I looked away from her and sighed. Monica really loved making things difficult But at least I had a ready answer for her. “Payback’s a bitch, honey.”

I think she slapped me again, but I couldn’t feel it. My cheek had gone numb. Through a haze of cigarette smoke, I saw a satin encased ass making its way into the office and disappear from sight. A distant click of the sliding door confirmed that she was gone.

Finally.

After several months of putting up with her brainless efforts at talking and mediocre sex, I was rid of her. It was almost enough to make me believe that there was, indeed, a god up there. Monica had been a good lover and all, but under all that make-up, she was just as dumb-ass stupid as they came. I never liked her, but she’d made a good bedmate and I’d dumped her when she’d worn on me. She wasn’t any different from the rest of the women I’d dated.

I flicked the remains of the cig over the side of the building and made my way into the office. A quick glimpse in the mirror told me that Monica hadn’t done any real damage to my cheek — there wasn’t a handprint or anything. Just a little redness was all. I rubbed at the spot soothingly before taking a seat behind the glass desk. A file was already open and the numbers and figures were a welcome distraction from reflective thoughts of the past ten minutes or so.

It was probably about ten minutes later when there was a buzz at the door. I growled, for I hated being distracted when I was in the middle of calculating something or the other. I’d never been someone who could switch back and forth between reality and work. Multi-tasking was for crazy people.

“What?” I snapped into the speaker that connected me to the person who was on the other side of the door. I knew it wasn’t a client because Marie would have buzzed me first if anyone important wanted to see me. So it was probably one of those pesky attachment trainees sent by the other execs to get me to sign stuff.

I heard someone shuffling on the other side of the door and tapped my pen on the table, waiting impatiently.

Finally, after probably a whole of five seconds, someone spoke. “Uh, Ms. Carter? I have some files for you,” came the feminine voice.

Without replying, I buzzed her in, returning my attention to the figures at hand.

In the back of my mind, I knew that someone was flitting about the office, placing files in the ‘to be signed’ folder and withdrawing the ones in the ‘signed’ folder. The girl made little noise, but it was still a distraction anyway, so I looked up instead of pretending to be able to concentrate.

Young, was the first thing that came to my mind.

Coffee-coloured skin and dark hair accentuated with dark red highlights. Her back was to me and that was all I could see. I watched her as she worked, taking in the simple black hipster slacks and white office blouse that she glamorized by pulling a tight vest over. She had thin black heels on her feet, but even the extra height couldn’t cover the fact that she was somewhat short.

She turned from the file cabinet and caught me watching her. I saw her eyes widen a little before she clasped the black files to her chest.

“Uh, bursa escort I’m sorry for disturbing. I was trying to make as little noise as possible,” she said with a slight stutter and I found her child-like fear quite amusing. A small smile tugged at my lips.

“That’s ‘kay. You new here?”

“Yeah. I’m here with the attachment program at St. Michael’s College.”

Ah, yes. College girl. Mm-mm.

“What’s your name?”

I noticed that her blouse was unbuttoned to reveal a bit of cleavage. Not too much, but just enough to intrigue. Definitely sexy, I thought. A small stud glinted on her nose, giving her an exotic look. A part of me wondered if she had other piercings.

“Eva, ma’am. Eva Smith-Johnson.”

“Well, Eva,” I said, returning her smile. “It’s nice to have met you. How long is your attachment?”

“Two months, ma’am.”

“That’s nice. I hope you learn a thing or two at Violet.”

“I hope so, too,” she returned, then after a moment or two of awkward silence, said, “Uh, I should be getting these files to Mr. Therman. Sorry again for disrupting.”

I gave her a reassuring smile and watched her generous rear with much interest as she made her away across the plush carpet and left the room.

Eva, I thought. I’ve always liked that name. And the sweetness of her smile contrasted interestingly with the boldness of her piercing. She seemed interesting indeed. I looked forward to bumping into her around the office.

*

I didn’t see her throughout the week.

Planning for the company’s Valentine soiree kept me busy in the evenings and the accounts shut me up in the office in the mornings. I still had a dozen more files to look through before the weekend ran by; the thought was almost enough to make me tear out what was left of my short-cropped blonde hair. I’d been driven crazy throughout the week with so many things to see to. Even whilst working more than 16 hours a day, I’d yet to submit the confirmed guest-list to the hotel the party was taking place at, and hadn’t looked through the song list the deejay had sent me to look through. To top it all off, I hadn’t even gotten myself a suit.

By Thursday, two days before the actual party on Valentine’s eve, I knew I needed to visit my favorite shopping district or I’d just have to wear one of my old suits to the party — a strict no-no for me.

So on Thursday night, I left the office earlier than I had over the past few weeks. The whole place was cold and eerily quiet without the air-con on — we’re one of the few companies in Boston to go green — and people milling about. Marie, my PA, had checked out earlier and so had almost everyone else. However, knowing that he’d still be there, I said a quick good-bye to Quinn, a workaholic and co-exec, before stepping into the elevator and punching in the code to the employees-only parking lot.

The first thing I heard when I stepped out of the elevator made me pause.

“Work, you stupid bitch, work! Fuck!” The rowdy cussing was followed by sounds of thumps and thwacks on metal. Then it was quiet and I heard someone sigh loudly. “Come on, baby,” the voice was pleading this time. “Don’t do this to mummy. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

The key turned in the ignition, but the car didn’t start up.

I followed the resultant string of blasphemies to the corner of the parking lot that was reserved for part-time workers. I knew it would be her even before I turned the corner.

Eva sat in a beat-up old Mustang, her head slightly beaded with sweat. She was wearing a buttercup-yellow dress that fit snugly around her almost-plump figure. Her hands tightly clutched the steering wheel, and as I watched, she leaned over and laid her head against the metal.

“Car trouble?” I called out, sauntering toward the flushed girl. Eva turned to look at me with her slightly surprised dark eyes, the nose-ring glinting beautifully in the dim light of the parking lot.

“I-uh-well, yes, Miss Carter.” She got out of the car so that she stood in front of me, out of respect, I knew. This new position showed me just how short she was. Why, the top of her head didn’t even reach my chin!

“Where do you live? I can give you a lift home.” It was a generous offer on my part; I never usually offered to drive trainees home. But this one was different. She probably had C-cup boobs. Wouldn’t you offer a ride, too?

“Maine Street. The one nearing Kensington Lane. But you don’t have to, really. I can take the bus.”

I was having none of that.

“It’s eight at night, Eva. I’m not taking chances with you and that dress. Get your stuff. My Rover’s over there.” I signaled to the middle of the parking lot.

“Well, if you insist.” She looked doubtful, but I’d already started walking. I heard her hastily grab her stuff and follow me. The sound of her heeled footsteps rang sharply in the empty space.

I pulled out of the building a minute later with a royal screech of tires, heading towards Maine Street. escort bursa The girl sat silently beside me, her hands flitting nervously on her lap.

“So, what’re you doing in St Mike’s?” I asked, just to fill in the semi-awkward silence.

“Business Ad, second year. I can’t wait to graduate,” she said.

I snorted, reaching for the cigarettes that I usually store in the small compartment below the stereo.

“Can’t wait to start work, can you? I remember being like that once. Funny how thoughts change.”

“Philosophies of a thirty-year-old?” she questioned, and I shot her a look. So she’s been asking about me. Interesting.

“Nah. Just some things you learn in life. Want one?” I passed the pack of cigarettes to her but she declined. I lowered the window and lighted a stick. Ahh, I thought on the first drag, the pleasures one can obtain from chemicals rolled in paper.

“What were you doing in the office so late?” I asked when we stopped at a red light.

“Oh, that. I had some extra filing to do and I didn’t want to come in early tomorrow, so I thought I’d finish it off today.”

“Is the work-load OK for you guys? Nothing too heavy?”

“Nope. Truth to tell, I’m enjoying every minute of it. I’ve always wanted to work at VioletCo. It’s so big and important that it makes me feel important, too.”

I glanced over at Eva. Our eyes locked for a second; moss green to sinful black. In that one look, I could see all her hopes and dreams and a future that she had so readily planned out. It was just too bad that life had a way of fucking things up.

“It’s just around the corner. Take a left here.”

I pulled up in front of a row of flats, nothing too shabby but not too showy either. The low-rise houses were painted a brick-red and many of them had lights glowing from the inside.

“This is it. Thank you for the ride, Miss Carter,” she said with a smile, slipping out of the car with the grace of a cat.

“Hey, wait,” I called. She paused and turned back. “Are you coming for the party this Saturday? You’re supposed to have gotten an invitation.”

“Oh, yes. I am. All the trainees got one.” She smiled.

“Great. See you then.” I watched as she walked toward the row of flats. Her yellow dress caught the lamp light, making her look like toffee covered in cream custard, just ready to be eaten. I shook my head at the ridiculous image and raised my hand in lieu of a wave when she looked back at me.

I didn’t leave until I was sure she had gotten into the lift.

*

She intrigued me.

Why, I didn’t know. But she kept intruding my thoughts at the most inappropriate times. Perhaps it was because of her kick-ass assets or sexy taste in clothes. Or maybe it was the innocent light in her eyes. Hell if I knew.

I had a dream about her the night that I’d dropped her off. A dream about her in a tub filled with bubbles. I could smell vanilla essence in the air and she crooked a finger at me, inviting me into her bower of warmth. In the dream, I’d been powerless to disobey her, moving closer and closer to her but never really reaching her. I remembered praying for the frothy bubbles to dissolve so that I’d have a glimpse of her, but it was in vain. I’d woken up feeling as horny and turned on as a teenager, a feeling I hadn’t felt in years. Instinctively, I reached across the bed for the vibrator I kept charged in the bedside drawer, thinking to finish myself off. But I didn’t have to.

I came, a second later, when my thighs clamped shut against each other, making my clit rub against my swollen lips. It was a quick orgasm, fast and over in a minute — which was a good thing, for it was already nine in the morning.

I’d slept through my alarm clock and I was late for work.

Damn.

*

Saturday night arrived, much to my relief. I was so tired of checking to see if the food was there, the guests were there, the deco was right, and nothing was out of place. Usually, it would be Marie who saw to the details, but she’d asked me if I could help her out and I couldn’t say no. I knew she had a lot going on at home.

Through the night, I smiled, nodded, waved and smiled again. Execs from Pioneer Industries, Terrance & Co. and JJ Inc. were there, mingling with the guests. There was usually tough competition between our companies to score contracts, and the animosity sometimes got out of hand in press statements, so to cool things off a little, VioletCo. usually sent invitations to other companies for formalities’ sake. We couldn’t afford to ruin the relationship we had with them.

As I worked the crowd with Amelia — my best friend who was my date for the night — on my arm, I couldn’t help but keep a lookout for the girl I’d been thinking about on and off for the past week. There were very few women I’d felt attracted to enough to think about them when they weren’t sitting in front of me. In fact, the last woman that had intrigued me this much was Tania, and that had been back in college. bursa escort bayan It had been over ten years since I’d felt this interested in someone, and that fact excited and scared me, especially since the person I was attracted to was so young.

She had probably been late for the party, because by the time I spotted her in the crowd, the party was well underway. She was speaking to Quinn near the VIP table, a glass of punch in her hand. The thin slivers of silver on her ears glinted under the dim lights of the entertainment room as she shook her head and laughed at something Quinn said.

A hand tightened on my arm, and I looked down to see Amelia staring up at me. I’d almost forgotten she was there. She was frowning.

“You became really tense all of a sudden. You ok, sweetie?”

I gave her a small smile. “Yeah, fine. I just remembered that I’ve to talk to Quinn about something. Uh, business stuff. Will you be all right on your own?”

“‘Course,” she said, waving off my concern. “I just saw Meghan Rivers walk through the doors, anyway. I’ve to invite her to the opening next week.”

She patted my hand and walked away. Releasing a breath, I squared my shoulders and prepared to walk towards the duo, who looked like they were having a really great time. I’d just taken three steps in their direction when Violet, my boss, stepped in front of me with a wide smile. I returned her smile whilst cursing inwardly. It was going to be a long while before the woman would let me go.

*

“Hello.”

Eva turned, the glass of punch cradled in her hand. It was about hour since Violet had caught me and kept me busy with business matters. It had been a torturous hour, with Violet speaking about business and me keeping a lookout for the girl in the sexy white dress. Eventually, Violet had spotted better prospects and left me in peace. I didn’t lose a minute in walking directly over to Eva.

When Eva saw that it was me standing behind her, she smiled and said that the party was lovely.

I really didn’t care if the party was lovely. She was lovely and that was all that mattered to me right then. The beautiful angel-like white dress that she wore had a slit up the side and ended at the knee. The paleness of the material contrasted so nicely with her skin that my mouth watered. She’d also done something with her eyes. They looked more prominent and beguiling. When she smiled, I noticed that there were two tiny dimples that marked the perfection of her skin.

“Ms. Carter?”

I realized that I’d inadvertently tuned out of our conversation. “Oh yes. Did you say something?”

“Yes, I did.” She looked at me peculiarly. “Your suit is lovely.”

I ran a hand down the front of the Armani suit. “Thanks. You look lovely, too. Although that’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

She lowered her eyes, and I swore that if she had a lighter skin tone, her blush would’ve been charmingly obvious.

“Thank you,” she said, setting her glass down on the table behind her. “So, um, does the company have this party every year?”

“Yeah, it’s a tradition thing. Apparently, Violet — my boss — and her late husband finally made their decision to start their company on Valentine’s Day about thirty years ago. So it’s like a founder’s day anniversary celebration for us to do this big party every year.”

“That’s interesting,” she commented, fiddling with the ends of her hair. “This is my first real corporate party, so it’s really exciting.”

“I’m sure it is. Hang on to the excitement while it lasts. A couple of years down the road, you’ll be wondering what you’re doing here when you could have had a nice romantic dinner with someone you don’t see for ten hours a day.”

I rolled my eyes and she laughed. “So, are you here with someone?”

She reached for one of the cubed sandwiches as the waiter passed by. “Well, no, actually. A few of us came as a group.” As I watched, she pried the sandwich apart and frowned at the spread. “Do you have any idea what this is?”

I peered at it. “I think it’s the horseradish.” She wrinkled her nose and placed the uneaten sandwich on a plate behind her. Again, there was that charm about her. She was so openly honest, almost innocently so. I liked that.

“I wasn’t that hungry anyway,” she said with a shrug. I couldn’t help but notice the way her dress moved when she lifted her shoulders. She wasn’t even trying, but she was so sexy! What the hell was she doing to me?

“Mind if we take a walk?” I proposed, pointing to the gardens just outside the party hall. Her eyes widened a little and held mine for a few seconds. I could almost swear that the chocolate brown of her irises darkened a little.

“Yeah,” she said after a pause. “I mean, no, I don’t mind.”

*

Being a butch has its ups and downs. I’ve had people give me ‘the look’ — you know, the look which says ‘you’re gonna burn in hell, baby’ — and I’ve had pretty ladies asking for my number. But truthfully, my orientation hadn’t been my choice to make. I’d never grown up around people who swing that way; it had been instinctive. The first girl I’d crushed on was back in junior high. Her name was Anne and we’d been math partners.

To suffice: it didn’t turn out well.

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Entomorph Breeding Program

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The small village of Nookington was located near a forest where the various species of the now called ‘Entomorph’ were discovered. A collection of insectoid and arachnid humanoid creatures that sought to introduce themselves to the world, but were starting small so far. Several had come to open a small ‘farmers market’ of sorts, which included a bee people’s pure honey, ant treats, and even spiders who had caught and humanely taken care of wild animals that threatened the town.

Recent developments had led to the discovery that with aid from other creatures, Entomorphs could much more easily spread their species, and grow a closer bond with the rest of the world. Thus, a breeding program was put up for a vote and passed in this small town. Currently, there was a board outside the town library with several requests from eager Ento parents, hoping for a host to their young.

Emelia was dropped off outside town standing in loose-fitting clothing hiding her fairly plump exterior. Her auburn hair mixed into her dress’s colors as she made her way over to the small mating clinic. “Alright, you can do it. They all seem so nice and you could use the connections…” She took a deep breath before pushing the front door open. Looking around and seeing several groups of Entomorphs some dressed like doctors and others who looked like excited soon to be fathers or mothers.

The librarian smiled “Hello Ma’am, are you here to sign up for the first wave of the breeding program?” She smiles lightly “I can personally say that it is not only pleasurable but also surprisingly easy on the body to recover.”

Emilia blushed before nodding. “Yes I, Yes I’m here to do that.” She walked overlooking rather flustered as she eyed the driders in the corner of the room. “I am Emilia. I signed up for the drider program.”

She looks it over “Ah yes, Tara will be your partner.” She waves over and one of the driders skitters over. She looked to be about the size of a centaur, but with her spider lower half. “Thank you for signing up for our program Miss Emilia. My name is Tara.” She smiles and holds her hand out, her fangs glinting a little past her lips. “Most have been a little nervous about signing up for our program, so I hope I can coerce you into giving a good word when this is over.” She giggles a little bit.

Emilia’s face turned fully crimson before shaking her head. “Yeah, I have heard a good bit about all this. I’ve always been a tad lonely and hearing that this was a good way to make a connection made me excited to come in.” She looked back up into Tara in her bottom set of eyes nearly getting lost in the inky blackness.

Tara smiled “Alright then, one last question, and please be honest. Would you rather a hotel room, or my place? Either is fine, my place would at the end be more private, but the hotel room would be within the town limits.” Tara gently reaches down and rubs Emilia’s cheek with a smile. “You know, you truly are beautiful.”

Emilia shuddered slightly before smiling. “I think your place sounds good. The hotel idea just feels… cheap.” She shakily reached out putting her hand on one of Tara’s legs feeling the hard black near leather-like leg. “You’re also beautiful ya know… your legs are very pretty.”

Tara giggles a little bit and playfully picks Emilia up “Thank you for the compliment, and I thought so too, I just wanted to make sure you were fully comfortable.” She begins to walk out of the library, waving to the others who smiled at her. “So, what do you know of our kind? I’d be willing to answer any questions you have while I take you back home.” She skitters towards the edge of town and into the forest…though the well-trodden path was well lit.

Emilia nodded following closely next to Tara. “Well, I’ve been curious about how being a mate actually works? I know the pregnancy is gonna last a few months at least so… do you want to get to know me during it? I…” She looked down, rubbing her belly gently. “I would like to… know our children and such…”

Tara smiles wide “Of course I would like to get to know you more. Also most opt to let our colonies raise the young, though we have a few who have opted to be parents. If you want to spend the time here with us, I would be thrilled to support you.” She smiles lightly and rests a hand on Emilia’s shoulder. “Essentially, I am going to inject you with…well technically it is a venom, but it induces ovulation, heightens pleasure responses and dulls pain, and it affects the stretchiness and tensile strength of the flesh. As you take in my eggs, it will cause you to get larger much faster than normal pregnancy for humans, but everyone who has gone through it is fine at the end, no stretch marks or anything.”

Emilia smiled softly looking back to Tara. “If you’re offering I’ll definitely stay…” She was quiet as they continued down the path starting to lean into Tara as they walked. Just enjoying the presence of what would soon be her mate. “So do you have a husband or wife? Also how quickly bursa escort do your young grow up? I’m more than willing to be in for the long haul.”

“I do not have a mate of my own. I normally would give out unfertilized eggs, though they can absorb the eggs of a host mother to fill in the other parent’s genetics. That is why we induce ovulation. As for how long they take to grow. Unlike insects and arachnids, we age and grow slower, though our rate of growth is faster than a humans. Driders like me would be considered fully grown at 15, though mature at 17. Though for human’s sake, we are taking to waiting till at least 18…in human years. I am 25 for the sake of it.” She smiles gently and giggles “Ants grow at an astounding rate, and they can be fully grown in as little as 3 years, though the drones are 100% loyal to their parents, particularly their mother for 15 years. And they don’t reach sexual maturity for another year after that. Bees have a similar growth cycle…though that comes down to their base races. We driders have always been expected to be…somewhat solo loners…at least genetically.”

Emilia reached over rubbing Tara’s hand. “Well if you don’t want to be alone… you don’t have to. After all, we are starting to share our races’ cultures so hopefully, now there won’t be pressured to go solo anymore.” She perked up as the pair approached a large now well-lit cave with cabins surrounding it families of driders inhabiting each.

Tara smiled and nodded “That sounds nice to me, I’d really like to see where this goes.” She leads Emilia into a rather nice log cabin, large enough to support a good few extra bedrooms. Inside was a nice living room, then just past that a kitchen. A door in the side leads to the other half of the house where it was a short hallway with a few rooms off of it with a bathroom at the end. “I helped work on getting these newer homes put together…and I made mine in planning for having a family…though extensions should be pretty easy.” She blushes and opens one door. “Here is my room.” Inside there was an armoire, a lamp, bookcase, and while a normal bed was there, a web hammock in the corner, as well as the ceiling rafters being largely webbed went to show where she slept.

Emilia giggled walking into the room and sitting on the bed. “I will admit this is a far bigger home than I have ever lived in.” She ran her fingers through the sheets smiling. “Just getting to get to know someone and explore parenthood sounds like a massive gift to me. You’re coming off as nothing but kind to me so being your partner also sounds like tons of fun.”

Tara smiles and moves up to Emilia “So then, shall we start now? Or would you like a bit of a ‘wooing’ dinner?'” She leans in and plants a kiss firmly on the girl’s lips, her dainty yet strong fingers running down Emilia’s back and scalp.

Emilia moaned softly before pulling back. “Well I would enjoy getting to know you over a meal then we can get into it.” She then leaned back in kissing Tara again and hugging the spider. “You’re beautiful and I’m sure the children will be too.”

Tara playfully picks Emilia up before skittering back to the kitchen and living room, setting the girl on the couch before heading to start cooking. Before too long, the sizzling of something is heard. “I hope you like fish and rice. We catch and grow them here.” She is showing her dexterity with quickly grabbing and working on multiple things at once in the kitchen, even with her body size she is effortlessly moving around the space.

Emilia watched enthralled by the drider’s dexterity. “That sounds wonderful. I love fish and rice isn’t half bad either.” She sniffed a few times before sighing happily. “It also smells wonderful. I can make some other types of meals, most breakfasts, and meat. I don’t really… have any form of employment that’s a big reason I was sent out here. An opportunity for a better life and all.”

“

Tara smiles and soon brings out a pair of plates of a salmon with lemon and butter, along with some white rice. “Well, our community needs plenty of people willing to put in an honest day’s work. So I can assure you something to do beyond parenting if you wish.” She sets the plates down along with some silverware before curling her legs in, sitting technically on the ground, but level with Emilia all the same.

Emilia took the fish starting to eat quietly. Smiling at Tara between bites slightly nervous but on the whole, enjoying the experience of being near a new companion. “I am more than willing to do both after the children are born. Although I am more than willing to have as large of a family as you desire, and take care of them as my job if needed.”

Tara giggled and leaned in to kiss Emilia’s cheek. “Is that so? Well. I think I could accommodate for your wants and needs.” She smiles a little bit “So what all do you like? I’m learning just how much we don’t have yet that I enjoy. I particularly like all kinds of music and reading, don’t really have a favorite bursa escort bayan yet. Oh, and while I’m strong enough to help lift things around here, I’m an excellent weaver. In fact, I weaved many of the things here.”

Emilia blushed while looking around at all the tapestries in the house. “I must admit they are all lovely. I have a passion for writing and books so I’m sure reading together could be lots of fun.” After finishing her meal Emilia scooted over to lean into Tara’s side. “You’re really soft ya know that? It’s nice…”

She giggles “Why thank you, your skin is quite soft as well.” She finishes her food before gently wrapping an arm around Emilia “So how do you like it? Later I can show you what I know of cooking…then we can experiment with cooking together.” She rubs Emilia’s back a little bit “Also what kinds of writings do you do?”

“I mostly write romantic short stories. That and I love mystery.” Emilia started hugging Tara’s side, closing her eyes and enjoying the closeness. “But now I have my mysterious romance right here so I don’t need to daydream about it anymore.”

Tara giggles a little and helps Emilia onto her spider back before carrying their dishes to the sink. “Well then, what say we…investigate the bedroom fun that I am sure is on your mind Emi.” She giggles and starts to head back towards the bedroom.

Emilia hugged Tara tight, relaxed on her partners back as they moved over to the webbing in the corner of the bedroom. “So do you wanna do it on your webs or the bed.” She blushed looking at the webbing in front of her. “Both could be very fun.”

Tara giggles and starts to remove what coverings she has on the top of her body. “Well, if you want to go for the most fun, I think you would enjoy the webs. Especially if you want to feel like a helpless little fly.” She turns and runs her fingers through Emilia’s hair.

“Well, then webs it is.” Emilia nuzzled into the hand before starting to move off of Tara’s back and onto the webbing. At first, it wasn’t that hard but after she got her first hand on tight she fell tangling herself helplessly in the webbing being held upside-down and diagonally.

Tara giggles a little bit and starts to remove Emilia’s clothing. “You are adorable Emi, let me help you get…more comfortable.” She leans in to kiss the girl before pulling her top off and playing with the bra hooks, getting it off too.

As her clothes came off piece by piece Emilia’s curvy body was truly showing off how gentle and soft it looks. Her breasts both decompressing from her D cup bra and jiggling slightly as Tara moved them around to remove the rest of her clothing. “Well… uh… thank you. This is very comfortable.” By the time Tara was done, Emilia was fully nude other than the webs around her wrists, ankles, and waist holding her in place.

Tara giggles and crawls up on the webs, her legs expertly navigating the netting she had made. “Well well well, what a delicious morsel I have here.” She wiggles as a cock like tube begins to grow out from her lower body, prodding at the exposed pussy. “And look at this, the perfect egg sack, though I think I need to prep it a little more.” She leans down and bites into Emilia’s neck, injecting her…causing a wonderful heat to spread through her veins.

As the venom spread through her Emilia’s blush turned from red to crimson her mouth slowly falling open as she began panting. “F… Fuck. Tara! I need something inside me!” She whimpered her legs quivering helplessly because of the heat overwhelming her senses. Her pussy began dripping from the stimulation of the prodding tube as her hips thrust forward trying to get it inside.

Tara smiles and begins to slide her ovi-posterior into Emi “Oh you feel like you are already trying to get my eggs into your belly. I can’t wait to fill you to the brim!” She begins to thrust in and out, purposefully holding back her eggs to play with her new mate.

Emilia continued her helpless humping letting out gasps and moans as the first egg just barely teased her pussy, trying desperately to get it inside her. Her hips widening welcomingly for the first of her mates’ eggs. “T… Tara! P… Please! I need it!” She moaned out and nuzzled her head helplessly into Tara’s chest.

Tara shoved all the way in, her tip painlessly pressing into Emilia’s womb as she began to let her eggs pump into the woman. The first large egg entered, making a bulge in her belly, then the second joined its sibling…and finally a third. Emilia’s belly already looked to be 6 months pregnant as Tara gently pet her mate. “There we go, how do you feel with that?”

Emilia’s eyes had rolled back into her head as the eggs rolled around in her now stretched wide womb adjusting to their proper places. After ten minutes of moaning and squirming the heat started to drain out of her. “I… feel wonderful.” She leaned into the petting before letting Tara pick her up off of the webbing and lay her back down onto the bed. “I’m… excited for the escort bursa little ones.” She started to absentmindedly rub her swollen belly still clearly slightly hazy from the session.

Tara pulled out and laid next to Emilia, pulling up the blanket. “I am also excited for the little ones. 3 is a pretty good load for me, and I can’t wait to see how they come out.” She rubs Emi’s belly gently “You may need a little time to adjust, but I really look forward to the family we are going to raise together.”

Emilia nodded before nuzzling into Tara’s chest. “This is going to be a wonderful experience for the two of us.” She yawned softly before closing her eyes and holding onto Tara letting her legs hide under Tara’s body and letting her swollen belly be supported by Tara’s side. “Have you considered any names you want for the little ones when they hatch?”

Tara thinks a little bit “Well…I was named for “Tarantula”…but I haven’t thought too much about what my own would be called, figured I would work that out with whoever my mate was.” She smiles a bit “So Emi, I’m all up for figuring that out together.”

Emilia giggled leaning up to kiss Tara. “So umm… we are mates now…” She blushed a bit but had a wide smile on her face. “I was always conflicted about human ways of partnership but… I like this a lot. When it comes to the little one’s names. I’m sure we can find some cute punny names like yours.”

Tara rolls her eyes but smiles and kisses Emilia back “I’m sure they will all come to us when it comes time for them to hatch.” She closes her eyes, holding Emilia close before nuzzling into her. “Love you Emi…thank you for giving this a chance.”

“It was an opportunity for me too… I…” Emilia looked down rubbing her now swollen belly. “Was infertile. I had always desired a chance to start a family or romance but because of my inability to have children the ‘human’ way I was struggling to find a partner to belong with… then I got the ad for this program and nearly cried on the spot before signing up. The other species weren’t compatible with me so… here I am… here we are.” She let a few tears drip down her face before kissing Tara hard. “Thank you Tara I love you.”

Tara kisses Emilia deeply “I can already tell, you are going to be a wonderful mother…and wonderful to help us move forward into interacting with others.” She rocks Emilia gently “even if you can’t support a normal human pregnancy, my eggs are absorbing some of your DNA, one way or another. Usually through absorbing sperm or egg cells of the host, but in absence they can passively take in surrounding DNA, they will just grow a little slower.”

Emilia started crying softly holding onto Tara enjoying her mates’ touch. “Well, then I’m sure they will be beautiful.” She took deep breaths holding onto Tara until she was able to fully calm herself the exhaustion setting in as she drifted off in Tara’s arms.

-3 Months Later-

Tara walked inside their cabin, happily lugging in several bags of groceries “I’m home, and I brought the snacks you wanted as well as our food restock.” She began to put down some bags of various veggies she had gotten from their neighbors, as well as an assortment of foods from the town market.

Emilia smiled sitting on the living room couch as Tara came in. “Thank you so much, sweetie.” She slowly stood up her swollen belly making her movements sluggish as she came over kissing Tara on the cheek and starting to help unload the groceries. “The little ones have been wiggling around in their eggs a lot today.” She giggled as Tara could see her belly start to jiggle slightly before calming down. “It really tickles.”

Tara giggles and rubs the belly “Are you three being nice to mommy?” She smiles a little “Them being lively is a good thing, it means they are comfortable and enjoy where they are. I bet your heartbeat soothes them.” She gently rests her head on Emilia’s chest and closes her eyes. “It soothes me.”

Emilia kisses Tara on the lips gently before heading over to the kitchen to get some water. “I’m always happy to hear that. I will admit that these have been the happiest months of my life. Even if the little ones make it tough to get around.” She grabbed a glass pouring a cup before grabbing an apple and heading back to the couch to snack on it.

Tara smiles and sits down, pulling Emilia onto her so she can wrap her arms around her mate, rubbing the egg bump happily. “You are positively glowing, I really can tell how much you personally want to be a mother.” She kisses Emilia on the neck right where she had bitten during their first night together. “I do have one question, and if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s ok. But do you want any family to know that everything is going ok? I haven’t noticed you call anyone on a phone or anything.”

Emilia looked down slightly before shaking her head. “My family didn’t approve of my choice to come to be with you and gave me an ultimatum. Stay with humans and them or go here and never talk to them again. I chose to come here with you and they dropped me off.” She sighed before leaning more into Tara’s chest. “That doesn’t matter though I’m happy with my choice. I love my mate with all my heart and that’s all I could ever ask for.”

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