Bound

Taken

2009-09-02T17:06:00.004-04:00

Your fingers dance across my skin, trailing want like burns along the pale expanse of need and creating in my mind a conflagration of possibilities that make my eyes gleam feral in the dusk of the room. I feel you hot and hard against the back of my thighs, the damp warmth of your demand trailing stickily along the sweep of pale flesh pressed against the length of your body.

I feel your teeth sink into where my shoulder sweeps into neck, pressing with the promise of sharp, hot need and I arch into your want with a hitch of breath that leaves me panting.

My hair tumbles over my face as you tighten your mouth and force me down and beneath the muted ruby of its curls, I feel cocooned and caught, enmeshed in the trembling panting of your breath.

I move restlessly, flanks twitching like a restive mare. You tighten your hands around my wrists stretched high about my head, shoulders straining and I feel your hand between my thighs, clever fingers burrowing and finding the hidden tightness of my need.

I buck and your body tightens around me and I feel the stiff hot demand of you slip between the slickness of my want and I growl. You jerk my arms tight and I involuntarily groan, caught between the promise of pain and fierceness of my rutting need, wanting both pain and pleasure with a craving that threatens to overwhelm me.

Your body presses my flesh into the tumbled sheets and I feel your teeth tighten on that sweet, meaty part of my shoulder that you love so much and in my mind, I imagine the hot copper taste of my blood trickling into your mouth as you break the skin. The pain is sharp and immediate and makes things tighten deep inside and I feel the throbbing slick release between my legs drench the material below me in sympathy with the warm trickle down my neck. Your body demands acquiescence and the subjection of self but the fierce, wild spirit in me fights your mastery and I struggle beneath you. Our breathing is ragged and harsh in the hushed twilight room as we struggle, a two-backed beast of slick flesh and dampness, of hot hard need and swollen promise.

My shoulders strain and tremble and pain lances through the tendons as you force my arms higher and surging, I feel you hot and damp and hard against me, pushing the firm flesh of my buttocks inexorably apart.

Belly aching deep inside, the want pulling at me, I capitulate and whimpering struggle to my knees, pushing my hips up and back, straining against your weight, opening and presenting my slick wetness to you.

The spongy dribbling tip of you slips into my swollen folds and my breath catches as I feel your girth spreading me, parting me. Wiggling desperately beneath your weight, I seek to impale myself on your throbbing, stiff organ and laughing, you hold my wrists tight and pulling your hips back, deny me my pleasure.

I cry out, raging in my hot rutting lust and again buck beneath you, thighs trembling as I strain to sink onto you, breath hot, hair tumbling in long, crimson strands against the white sheet.

You fasten your teeth yet again in my neck and I cry out, neck straining as I writhe beneath you. Your body is heavy against my back and I am pushed harshly down until my nipples scrape against the soft cotton of the sheet and I feel the mound of my sex throbbing against the bed. The feel of you against the soft flesh of my buttocks enflames me and moaning, I try to lift my hips back against the hard, throbbing core of you.

Locking me in position, you lean heavily against my back and your fingers reach under and then between my thighs. When you touch the nub of me, I explode in frantic want, buttocks pushing back against you, the long hard length of you parting the plump, firm cheeks. Holding me still with one hand, I whimper as you rub the stiff length of your sex along the furrow of my buttocks, nestling the sweet spongy tip in the little flower of my
crease.

Again, I buck beneath your weight, crying as the strain on my shoulders sends lancing pain through my arms. I struggle to push my ass further up your body, seeking to impale myself yet again. Slowly, inexorably, the tip of you pushes insistently against the tight furled nether passage and suddenly I am still as I feel your throbbing cock pushing against the most private part of me.

I feel myself twitch, my inner muscles tightening and a terrible thrilling fear floods me. Slowly, insistently, your hips flex and the plump, spongy tip of your cock pushes again at the tight ring of my ass. I lie still, heart beating rapidly, eyes now closed as I try to deal with the sharp pain which now floods my lower body as you push without mercy, determined to thrust yourself up and in.

My buttocks flex involuntarily, tightening and trying to expel the invading stiffness of your desire but you persist, your hips slowly pressing down, relishing the tearing, hurting feel as my ass is spread wide, the concentric rings tightening and throbbing against your length and girth. Your foreskin is pulled painfully back from the dribbling tip of your cock as you finally manage to slide the bulging head in the first inch of my ass and you groan, caught between pain and a fierce glee at forcing yourself in the tight, constricting passage.

Shifting slightly, tightening your hold on my arms so I can’t move, your knees spread against the back of my thighs so I am trapped, you push roughly and I scream as your length is suddenly thrust in, tearing minute little nicks in the sensitive skin and you sink deep.

The feel of you inside me is so frighteningly immediate that I stiffen and am quiet. My ass aches fiercely but just below I feel my cunt twitching and the liquid want of me is slick and slippery and as you pull back and before I can breathe, thrust again, the clear viscous dribbling from you mingling with the clear astringent proof of my own arousal.

My heart beats frantically and confused, I lie still, torn between thrusting back against your hips and pulling away, between the hot searing pain and the sucking, needy want. Now you lie heavy and reassuring against my back, patient, your long, thick cock sheathed deep to the root in my most private part and you wait, allowing me to accustom myself to the unexpected intrusion, organ throbbing gently in rhythmic hot pulsations that mimic the beating of my heart, which throbs like a frightened sparrow in my chest.

I hear your voice murmuring in my ears, and your tongue is soft as you lick gently at the trickling blood of the perfect teethmarks in my collarbone, indentations welling gently. Your other hand works gently between my thighs, tugging lightly at the silver rings, finger slipping between the swollen folds of my sex to barely brush the tingling quivering nub of my desire.

Slowly, I quieten, my muscles, tense and hard, relax and I lie quiescent, obedient, the trembling lessening, then stopping until my body is quiet and soft under you, even the clenching muscles of my ass softening and slowly, rhythmically you pull out with a rich, sucking quiver, then push in, still fighting the tightness, pull out then thrust and your hand sings between my thighs and my mind drifts and the ache on my shoulder throbs in sequence to the plundering thrust of your cock and I feel the need building, swelling deep in my belly.

My body quivers and starts to vibrate and I tighten involuntarily against you and you groan as the hot passage tightens and sucks at you and the crimson constriction of my ass is just this side of painful as you force your way in again and again.

I feel your fierce want and my breasts tighten and swell and you release my arms and with fevered hands take my hips and pull me up and tight against you and I scream as the thick base of your cock splits me wider yet and you yell triumphantly and jerk me closer, relishing the sounds of my pain and your fingers dig into the sweep of hip and the pale skin flushes crimson as your hips slap against the quivering flesh of my spread cheeks.

The hot heavy constriction at the front of my sex throbs and I feel the aching need and I whimper. Struggling to my hands, shoulders aching, my breasts hang loose, quivering and shaking each time your groin thrusts your heavy cock deep, the nipples swollen, hard, tips fiercely crimson, I pump back against you, relishing the ache, internalizing the pain, offering it to you with an exultant cry as your thrusting, rubbing as it does against the spongy, rough G-spot on the other side of the thin membrane separating cunt from anus, suddenly triggers a veritable stream of clear, sweet smelling fluid from the front of my sex where your fingers work.

As the hot fluid soaks your fingers, your balls tighten and I hear you groaning over the rapid panting of my own breath and my nipples swell further and I feel the tingling, growing wave coming and yelling, your hand comes down across my buttock with a fierce smack, the imprint of your fingers clearly marked, a bruise already forming and then clutching the bones of my hips, fingers pushing into the sore, bruised flesh, you lean back and drink in the sight of your thick stem appearing and then disappearing into the tight ass and then leaning over my back, I feel you give a mighty thrust, then another and another and the hot, molten stream of you spurts into my dark tunnel and my own peak is triggered and helplessly I cry into the musk of the room, my cunt quivering and pulsing in tandem with the pulsing of your cock.

My arms cannot hold me as quivering, trembling with release, I allow myself to fall to the bed. You lie across me, heavy and enveloping, your breath hot against my ear, the frantic beating of your heart pulsing in time with mine and together we struggle to find our breath and lie, enjoying the diminishing contractions of our pleasure.

Leaning over my shoulder, your lips kiss me gently. Your hand cups my sore bottom and sighing, you push yourself up and spreading my cheeks admire the foaming crimson-touched proof of your plundering. You slip out of the room while I drift, half asleep, my bottom throbbing, the abused passage burning slightly in the rapidly cooling air. I am almost asleep when cleansed, you slip back in, a basin of warm soapy water in your hands. Carefully, your big fingers gentle, you clean me, spreading my cheeks wide and inspecting carefully for any questionable damage.

Finally, pulling back the sheets you slip into bed, pulling me close beside you, my lips in the hollow of your shoulder and we sleep.

An Evening Interlude*

2009-05-26T20:09:00.000-04:00

Dusk stained the sky a moody swirl of red and black, of clouds roiling and embracing, while golden shafts of sunlight twisted spears of liquid gold through the teeming mass of restless night. She was in a restless state of arousal, hypersensitive to the swirl of breeze through a window, touching her legs with gossamer paws, sound seemed amplified and her attention was constantly distracted.

Between her legs, her cunt was aching with a painful intensity, a heaviness which was impossible to ignore while the brush of cotton against her breasts lay somewhere between agony and ecstasy.

She jumped each time she heard a sound, sure it was him, her cunt gushing liquid juice which trailed down her thighs in a sticky residue of lust only to discover it was a cat or a child or any one of a number of other things.

The mundane tasks of her day were eventually completed, two small ones in bed, one picked up and away for the night, the other in Montreal. Now night was here and the house itself seemed to be holding its breath.

Expectation clouded her mind, confused her body and created an irrational sense of anxious excitement she couldn't ignore.

He had been in and out over the course of the long, endless evening, pausing here and there for a kiss, a quick fondle. With the children in bed, she had entered the bathroom to clean up and casually sat on the toilet.

Suddenly the door had opened and he appeared. Saying nothing, he simply squatted in front of her, parting her legs and indicating that she was to hold her skirt high. Then intently, doing nothing, he watched her piss. She was barely able to accommodate him. Her arousal was so intense that at first she was unable to void, until finally, when he smacked the side of her leg lightly, her urethra opened and a hot, thick stream of piss splashed into the toilet. He watched intently, fascinated by the way the stream emitted from between the swollen lips of her cunt. He waited until the stream thinned and then stopped, small drops patterning the water of the toilet bowl, then he simply got up and walked away.

Now the time was getting late. She went into the bedroom and lay on the bed, somehow at peace now that she knew her waiting was coming to an end. She heard the door to his office open and he came into the room. Her heart was beating rapidly, so loudly she wondered if he could hear it. Going over to her, he pulled her so she lay sideways, her legs trailing over the side of the bed..

Then without saying a word he pulled her dress up and over her upper body then her face. The soft cotton enveloped her mouth and eyes. She was able to breathe through its loosely woven strands but it was if she were cocooned in a web which enveloped her and restricted her movements.

He took her arms and brought them to the top so they lay above her entwined, then with the skirt of the dress he wrapped them loosely so she was in essence suspended, her face and arms invisible in their soft prison, her breasts, belly and cunt open to the cooling night air. The heat generated by the enfolding dress served to make the bareness of her lower body even more naked, she felt utterly vulnerable, open to whatever he chose.

She waited with baited breath. She could not see him through her blindfold but could sense his breathing, feel the heat of his body near her. It was as if her senses were multiplied and increased, as if a sixth sense could track without the aid of her eyes and ears.

He stood between her spread legs and she jumped suddenly as she felt his warm breath on her cunt. She almost cried and could feel her cunt twitching, her hole opening and closing, and involuntarily, a stream of juice suddenly squeezed out of her vagina. She groaned as she felt his tongue lick up her libation, then involuntarily tried to push her hips even more into his face. He said nothing, but the tongue suddenly disappeared and she cried with disappointment.

She stilled her treacherous body, aware that he was intent on controlling things, exerting superhuman control to curb the almost insatiable need to thrust her hips. She was rewarded a few moments later when he licked her entire cunt from anus to cleft in a soft, warm delicious caress. Then he began to lap at her like a dog, flicking his tongue up and down the long cleft, pausing to scoop up the juice from her vagina, pushing the swollen inner lips aside to pay homage to her stiff, painful clitoris.

She felt the sensation gathering in her groin, the wonderful, painful, overwhelming pressure which preceded her coming. She fought desperately to control her movements, her hips were actually jerking as she fought them from moving, terrified he would desist. She was close, so close, from between her bound lips small desperate grunts were audible, her mind began its strange fogging which always accompanied an orgasm and then suddenly the sensation was gone.

The disappointment, the despair was almost beyond bearing. The cotton which swathed her eyes dampened with her tears. For a moment she luxuriated in her disappointment, then taking a deep breath, counseled patience and waited. She felt he was away from her at the moment but unsure, stayed very still, not seeking to dissuade him even more. She strained to hear him, to orient where he stood, what he was doing. She couldn't get a sense through her bindings and was tempted to pull her arms down and look around.

She stopped herself, aware that this ultimate submission, this subjection even to his desires was creating a storm of arousal and emotion she wasn't quite sure how to handle, yet the emotion it engendered was so persuasive, so seductive, she didn't want to question it too closely.

The night air from the open window caressed her body in a silken, soft caress, soothing the flames between her legs, calming her churning heart. She felt suspended somehow, removed from herself, as if she were somewhere else and the part of her which felt primitive, basic emotions had somehow surfaced and become dominant. She was aware of arousal, excitement and yet a strange lassitude stilled her limbs and calmed her soul.

He entered the room and looked at her. Her pale, slender legs were stretched wide, slightly outturned so that an unobstructed view of her vulva was possible. The soft, plump mound of her cunt swelled at the base of her soft belly. There, her cleft split into two separate lips, normally pale and slim, now fiery pink and swollen and turgid with arousal. The delicate inner lips of her vagina which were usually almost hidden in the folds of the outer vulva were bright red and enflamed, extending beyond their normal confines by an inch or more. Her sprawled, positioning himself to see the stiff, swollen nub of her clitoris, poking saucily from its usual hiding spot, visibly elongated and stiff with desire.

He followed the line of her soft belly and admired the swell of her hips. She could never be mistaken for a boy, he mused, not with the way her hips bloomed voluptuously, proclaiming her femininity.

The line of her waist was taut and then he feasted his eyes on the breasts which heaved on her chest. On her back, their weight pulled them to each side, their fullness bulging out over the tender pits of her arms. Her nipples were taut, small stiff nubs, their areolas crinkled and tight. The dark shadow under her arms were visible as her arms were raised over her head. The dress caught just above her spread breasts, entangling her arms and covering her face. Its folds drifted and twirled around her upper body, obscuring her features and erasing any hint of identity. She was the epitome of female voluptuousness as she lay there spread-eagled, her body open to him, available and subject to his whims. She was woman personified, with no true personality or ideas of her own, a body, a cunt, two tits there for him to play with, torment, ravish.

His cock felt like an iron bar in his pants. He pulled at the buttons of his fly, undoing them and allowing the stiff erection to poke out. Then, bending, his cock bobbing, he pulled off his pants and peeled off his shirt. Naked now, he began to pull at his cock slowly, leisurely allowing his eyes to travel over the prone body before him, lingering on her hard nipples and probing visually between her legs. His cock was throbbing and erect, its purple tip glistening with the pre-come juice which oozed in a steady stream from its bulging tip. He relished the feel of his fingers and the pull of the velvet skin over the hard muscle, the slippery friction engendered by the juice, soaking his cock and squishing through his fingers. It was immensely exciting and satisfying to know that she was completely open to him, obedient and vulnerable.

He reached for the thick dildo which he had earlier put on the dresser. Stepping between her legs he kneeled, moving close to breathe in the heavy, musky scent of her arousal, the thick sweet smell of her juice which was literally streaming from her swollen vagina.

Grasping the heavy fake prick firmly he took the head and gently probed her cunt hole. He heard her gasp and draw in her breath sharply. Her hips gave an involuntary shudder then stilled but where he gently probed, her cunt hole began to open and close. He pushed just the tip in about an inch, letting the mushroom head disappear slowly, very slowly up her. He could hear her panting beneath the cotton bindings and her chest was heaving, causing her breasts to jiggle lusciously. He could actually sense how hard she was struggling not to push further down on the stiff invader.

His own cock quivered in sympathy, a large drop of pre-come juice oozing from its straining tip.

Then with a smooth, controlled thrust he impaled her, pushing aside her soft folds, filling her, stretching her, engorging her until he felt it strike her womb. Her hips shuddered and her cunt seemed to suck at the big cock as he watched. Grasping it firmly he pulled it out, wet and glistening with her juices, sliding slowly, sensuously through the folds of her cunt.

Again he thrust and again he pulled it out. Her legs which had been sprawled to either side were tense, her thighs trembling with the strain. She seemed to be trying to spread her legs even further apart and she looked incredibly voluptuous and abandoned as her slender legs widened.

Leaving the dildo impaled in her, he stepped back to admire the sight. With her legs agape, her entire cunt seemed tipped up, her cunt lips open while the white shaft of the dildo looked obscenely arousing as its thick base barely peeked from the swollen red folds of her cunt hole.

As he watched, it began to slide out, slippery from the juice which was pouring out of her. He saw her hips shiver and then jerk and her cunt working as she tried desperately to retain its hard length deep inside her.

Reaching down he pulled it out and tossed it to one side. Then stepping between her legs holding his prick in one hand he aimed it at her cunt and shoved it in. He made sure to keep his hips from banging hers as he wanted her unsure as to what she was being fucked with. He had to stifle his groans as his stiff prick sank into the soft, enveloping folds of her cunt, juicy and soft and incredibly deep.

As he pulled out for another thrust her cunt seemed to hold onto his cock, her inner lips clinging, her clitoris throbbing. Her cunt felt as if it were as deep as an ocean and as wet.

Rivulets of her own juice were running in streams down the tender inner skin of her thighs and beneath her sprawled buttocks she could feel a pool of her own juice cooling in the night air.

Her breasts were aching, almost like when she was breastfeeding the children and a feeding was long overdue. It was as if she needed them to empty of the arousal which was tormenting her.

Suddenly she felt his fingers at her breasts, pinching the nipples roughly. She moaned as she felt a jolt of pure lust flash from the pillaged breasts to her cunt. She tried to push her breasts into his hands, sure now that it was his beloved cock between her legs and desperate to wrap her legs around his strong, working buttocks.

"OK," he told her,

Giving a cry of joy her hips surged up to meet his, her legs twining like vines around his back, her vulva pushing into his groin until he lost sight of where his cock started and her cunt finished. The palm of his hands began to slap against her breasts, he found the pink marks of his fingers unbearably erotic. She was like some wild thing beneath him, bucking and straining, her arms and face still covered, just a writhing, twisting female body, a hot, juicy cunt and two jiggling, swollen breasts.

He could feel his balls tightening and the hot intense fire deep within his groin signaled that his cock was getting ready to come. Suddenly he felt her convulse and beneath the shrouded torso, he heard her scream in a long, indrawn breath, a groan almost painful in intensity and her cunt began to pump against him.

The tip of his cock literally felt pinched as her womb began to contract, like a wave of sound, her cunt squeezed and pulled at his thrusting cock, almost expelling its heavy stiff mass.

In front of his eyes, a hot red flush suddenly spread across her heaving breasts and the soft swollen mounds literally seemed to expand another inch, the tips reaching toward him. A hot gush of come seemed to soak his groin and for a moment he thought she had pissed but it had a sticky clear consistency at odds with that. Feeling it soak into the tight nub of his balls and run in streams down the base of his cock he felt his own orgasm trigger and gritting his teeth he grabbed her hips and with a harsh, massive thrust buried his cock as deep as he could within the willing cunt which enclosed it.

Like molten lava he felt the sperm erupt from deep inside, trail fiery veins through the hard shaft of his throbbing organ and erupt in a powerful, burning explosion deep within her. She screamed as she felt the individual spurts strike her already convulsing womb, triggering an even stronger series of contractions.

He was helpless except to thrust and thrust again, seeking to bury within her the essence of his being, his sperm, his brand and she joyfully, accepted all he could give her.

Together they reached heaven, their minds fogged, their senses so permeated with sensation they were almost delirious, then as the series of convulsions weakened within her womb, as the last drop of sperm was expelled, they collapsed.

It seemed an ages later when she felt his hand gently unwinding the skirt which bound her. Cool air reached her flushed cheeks and glazed eyes and she squinted in the soft light of the room.

It was like coming out of a dark fog. Her eyes met his and glowed in answer to the light which glittered in his. He reached for her and gathered her in his arms and gently dropped kisses on her forehead, her nose and then her clinging lips. They exchanged a long, deep intimate kiss and then he bundled her exhausted, satiated body between the cool cotton sheets, pulling the blanket to her chin and hugging her closely behind, clasping her spoon fashion. She drifted in a sea of contentment and love, and true to her nature, fell into a deep velvet sleep.

*This was actually written a couple of years ago- just came across it.

The Good Neighbour - Chapter 2

2009-02-12T07:31:00.000-05:00

Rob stirred as Monique crept out of bed. A dim light bathed the room, barely illuminating the rich wood of the headboard, the tumbled deep blue of the duvet and the sensuous yellows and blues in the Kashmir carpet. He snuggled into the silky softness of the cotton sheets, missing her warmth beside him. He felt pleasantly sleepy and relaxed for the first time in days.

Quietly, Monique slipped into the attached powder room, donning the clothes she had left ready the night before. Tiptoeing back in the bedroom, she went to where her husband slumbered, leaning down, and brushing soft lips across his forehead.

"Eh?" Rob mumbled.

"Shhh. Go back to sleep. I'll see you later – I have to get to the airport." she whispered.

Rob reached up sleepily, tangling his big hand in the silky strands of her dark hair. Pulling her down, his sleep softened lips captured hers. He breathed in her scent, clean and sweet and soft and his morning erection twitched. Still half asleep, he reached for her hand, placing it on the mound now pushing up the duvet.

Monique giggled. Squeezing, she grinned as he moaned. Pushing aside the duvet, she admired him as he lay still half asleep.

A big man, shoulders wide and strong, a slim waist and narrow hips and that big beautiful cock, now tumescent and full, laying twitching across his left thigh.

Leaning down, she breathed her warm breath along its length, her tongue flicking out to lap at the tip.

Rob groaned and his hand came down and pushed her head towards his groin.

Monique complied, opening her mouth and sucking the spongy head of his prick into its warm cavern. He groaned as her mouth enveloped him, thrusting his hips up and pushing his stiff prick further into the warm prison of her mouth.

Monique's mouth stretched wide as the heavy prick pushed in toward the back of her throat. Experienced, her tongue flicked at the sensitive underside, relishing the reaction as his prick jumped. Then, reluctantly, she pulled back up, her mouth leaving a glistening trail along the swollen shaft.

"Sorry, sweetie, gotta run." she said, dropping a butterfly kiss on his sweet cock.

Rob opened sleep gummed eyes and grimaced.

"What about this?" he said.

Monique grinned then leaning down, brushed her lips against his.

"You'll have to take care of that yourself." she said.

"I'll make up for it when I get home!".

With that, Monique grabbed her overnight bag and in a swish of perfume and warm woman scent, left.

Rob lazily brushed his cock with his own hand, running fingers up and down the shaft, slick with his wife's saliva. His mind wandered over various scenarios, shying away from the one he most wanted to explore.

It was several days after he and Aisling had had that incredible sex session in his office. Unexpected and unbelievably erotic, he was consumed with guilt that he had betrayed his wife. He took full responsibility for their transgression – it was he after all who had been lusting over those heavy firm breasts, those long legs and that curvy ass. Seeing her with that boy's cock fucking her mouth had been too much and he was weak.

Rob dropped his cock as it twitched in his hand, swollen, its tip wet with pre-cum and slippery with the clear fluid.

He WOULD stop thinking of her! He had apologized to her profusely the next morning, when guilt ridden and mortified he had seen her in the gardening, pulling weeds in a brief tee and some very short shorts.

"Don't be silly, Robert!" It was wonderful!" she had said grinning.

She had pushed up to him then, warm woman scent and heavy breasts loose under a tee-shirt, long legs bare and the firm warm globes of her bottom glimpsed under the short edge of the brief pants. Rubbing those beautiful breasts against his chest, she had reached to cup his erection, which despite his best intentions, was straining the front of his sweatpants.

Mortified, glancing back at the windows of his house where Monique was cooking breakfast, and determined to be strong, Rob had pushed her away. He knew what was best, he explained, and they couldn't do this. It was just plain wrong!

Aisling had just grinned, a saucy, salacious smile that had made his prick quiver..

Sauntering away, twitching the full, firm globes of her delectable ass, she had tossed an insouciant “we’ll see” over her shoulder.

Lying in bed, Rob felt a sting of regret that he would never again feel his prick pushing up that tight wet cunt.

Groaning, Rob rolled over, his heavy prick flopping to the bed as he buried his head in the pillow and determined to forget it all.

Drifting, he started to fall back asleep, lulled by the warmth of the room, a shaft of morning sun just starting to illuminate its interior, dust motes dancing in the weak light.

***

The next thing Rob was aware of was the delicious, indescribable pleasure of a warm mouth sucking his cock. He had fallen back asleep and still dazed, eyes closed, grinned.

"Getting the next plane?" he asked.

The mouth on his prick ran experienced lips up and down the swelling shaft, lapping at the tip then enveloping its heavy length in a warm prison. Her mouth felt particularly tight around his cock today, an exquisite unyielding pressure which made his balls tighten.

"God, baby, that feels amazing!" he said, his voice thick.

The bed, ruffled and warm, enveloped him in the smell of the sex he and his wife had indulged in the night before. That tangy scent drifted around his face like a sweet veil of arousal. He stretched, keeping his hips still, focused on keeping that warm mouth wrapped around his turgid member.

His hips tensed and reaching down, his eyes still closed as he savoured the sensation, he tangled his hand in curls. For a moment, it didn't compute, then as he held the head firmly so he could thrust up into that delicious mouth, he gave a startled exclamation.

"Monique?"

His eyes snapped open and he stared down the length of his naked body to see the dancing eyes of his naughty neighbour, her little mouth stretched wide with the thick shaft of his prick.

"Aisling!" he said, horrified and tried to pull his prick from her mouth.

Two capable hands came around and clasped the firm globes of the firm buttocks. Determined, Aisling sank her mouth right down on the delicious cock, pushing his ass up toward her mouth so the big prick sank further down her experienced throat.

Rob was lost. Groaning, watching with a mixture of horror and lust, he grabbed the red curls and began fucking the delectable mouth.

The long shaft, swollen and red, a large vein throbbing along its length looked incredibly good pushing in and out of that soft mouth. A mixture of Aisling’s saliva and precum which was now flowing out of the purple head of his cock glistened each time he pulled his stiff prick out of that sweet mouth. Then, exquisitely, the warmth and sensation of her mouth as he pushed his prick back in, deep.

Aisling gagged slightly as the thick cockhead touched the back of her throat. Then relaxing her throat, she was able to swallow and now almost the entire prick was in her mouth. Her tongue busily ran up and down the shaft, lapping at the head and inserting its tip into the slit at the top.

God he tasted good!

Aisling took one of her hands and ran it between the strong thighs, trailing a finger up between Rob’s legs until she reached the heavy balls. Groaning around her delicious mouthful of cock, she cupped the heavy testicles which were already tight and starting to pull up towards his groin.

Carefully, she scraped the lightly furred surface of his turgid testicles, and was rewarded as she felt that great prick jump in her mouth and swell even more.

"Baby, you have to stop ... otherwise I'm going to cum." Rob groaned.

The fingernail again scraped lightly at the surface of his balls, which tightened up further, gathering and ready to push all that sweet cum up the heavy shaft now buried in her greedy mouth.

Rob looked down and thought he had never seen anything so erotic. Aisling was crouched over him, her heavy breasts swinging and jiggling as her mouth worked busily, the nipples engorged and stiff. Her little ass was up in the air as she knelt over him, he could see the crack at this angle.

His whole groin felt on fire, his cock felt like it was three feet long and all he could think of now was he wanted to spurt his prick right down that working throat. He wanted to hold her head while he did that so he could make sure she swallowed every drop of the hot, thick bounty.

Groaning, he pushed her head down and closed his eyes as his balls gathered and then spat their load up the turgid shaft. Rob actually felt the cum as it filled his prick and then almost painfully erupted from the tip of his prick, buried deep down Aisling's throat.

Aisling choked for a moment as the hot, heavy jets of cum began to spurt down her throat. Pulling back slightly she began to frantically swallow all that yummy frothy white cum, but despite her best efforts, her mouth filled, ballooning out her cheeks. Cum squeezed out the tight sides of her mouth, which, stretched and pulled was barely able to encircle the spasming member.

Rob felt like he was dying. His hand on the red curls weakened and fell off as his prick emptied itself, his hips thrusting helplessly. Looking down his body, he watched as hot cum dripped out of the side of his pretty neighbour’s bow lips.

As the last dribbles of cum jerked out of the spongy tip, he lay back, exhausted and depleted.

Aisling waited, savouring every drop of cum, and lapping very gently at the now extremely sensitive tip of his cock.

"God, that was SO good." she thought as the prick began to shrink and soften.

Her tongue carefully cleaned the sweet prick, lapping up every drop of cum and cleaning it thoroughly.

Rob's chest was going up and down like a bellows, his heart still beating frantically as he recovered from an incredibly intense orgasm. He lay, catching his breath as Aisling crawled up his body to lay a curly head against his chest. Encircling her, he tried to process what had just occurred.

Kissing the side of his neck, Aisling took his hand, placing it on her swollen breast. Rob cupped that beautiful, heavy orb, squeezing gently, his fingers pinching the stiff rubbery nipple. Aisling groaned and sat up. With a lithe move of her strong body, she straddled his chest, her breasts jouncing, her wet slit trailing a glistening trail along the hair on his chest.

"Me now, baby!" she said imperiously.

Rob looked up at her.

Putting his hands on her hips, he pulled her towards him.

The hairless slit, smoothly shaved, plump and inviting was right there. He studied it, feeling his depleted cock twitching. Her taut thighs were spread, pulling the tight lips apart and showing him the dark pink inner labia. Peeking between, at the apex of her slit where her mound began, was the impudent bright red clit, swollen and erect.

Pulling her close, Rob breathed in the smell of this beautiful woman, ripe and rich, sweet and yet innocent. Her entire slit glistened with her arousal. Taking a deep breath, he pulled that cunt onto his mouth.

Aisling groaned as Rob’s soft tongue began to flick at her swollen clit, first laving then ever so gently nibbling. She pushed against his face, rubbing that wet slit around his mouth and nose.

Rob's hand came around and he began to caress the firm tight globe of her ass as he continued to lick and suckle the sweet cunt. A finger wandered between the tight crack, running an experimental finger to gently touch the furled anus.

Aisling jumped as Rob’s finger gently touched her back there. She had never had anyone do that and wasn't quite sure. Then she groaned as Rob took that swollen clit between his lips and began to suckle.

Rob's prick began to twitch as he buried his face in the delectably firm crotch. Carefully, but determined, he worked his finger in her tight crack, gently flicking and pushing extremely lightly against the tight rectum. Aisling, caught up in the sensation of Rob licking her swollen cunt, ignored the forays into her tight behind.

Rob felt his prick swelling as his finger probed at the tight asshole. Her cunt was soaking against his lips, the labia swollen and pink and scrumptious. Aisling's clit was quite large when aroused, succulent and stiff, like a tiny penis. Surreptitiously, he pushed his finger forward and pushed his finger into the swollen folds of her cunthole. She was soaking and sweet, clear juice dripped off his fingers as he slowly frigged them in and out of that luscious hole.

She groaned, making his prick swell even more.

His fingers well soaked, Rob pulled them back and then carefully pushed against the tight asshole yet again. Aisling, unconsciously, now thoroughly aroused, pushed back against the stiff digit. Rob groaned against her sweet clit as he felt his finger sink in to the first knuckle.

Aisling yelped as she felt the finger push up her rectum. For a moment, she stopped, but Rob quickly captured that succulent clit and began nibbling. Her ass relaxed a bit, as the stiff finger very gently pushed further in.

"That feels .. different!"

"Relax, sweetheart, just sink down on it, relax your ass. It will feel good." Rob promised.

Aisling complied. Taking a deep breath she pushed her firm ass down on the invading digit.

"Oh!"

"It feels wonderful!"

Aisling felt that sweet deep tugging in her womb. Reaching up, she cupped her own heavy breasts, fondling and squeezing the swollen orbs then cupping the nipples she pinched them first gently, then as her arousal began to peak, harder.

Rob looked up and watched her play with her tits. She had her nipples in a firm grip and was pinching and pulling them away from her chest, swollen, dark brown and erect.

Impatiently, Aisling rubbed her slit against his lips, wiggling her ass on the stiff finger embedded there. Her breathing quickened.

Rob suckled the little clit and began fucking his finger in and out of the tight ass. He felt her taut thighs stiffen and her breathing became ragged. Suddenly, with a long wail she pressed down against his tongue and he felt her cunt spasming against his mouth. Thick viscous fluid gushed out of the swollen cunt hole, soaking his chest.

Rob's prick was rampantly erect again as he felt her cum. Aisling pulled back, her clit too sensitive to touch as her orgasm peaked. He watched intently as her cunt hole pulsed and contracted with the strength of her orgasm.

Rob gave Aisling a few minutes to recover herself, then pulling her hips towards him, he began to gently flick his tongue against her clit, his finger still buried deep in her ass.

"I'm done,!" Aisling said, laughing.

"No sweetie, you're not. We're just starting." he told her.

Reaching back, Aisling grinned as she felt her the now rampantly erect cock, throbbing and firm.

"I thought you were too old to come more than once." she said teasingly.

Rob took his soaking mouth away from where he was avidly devouring the viscous, delicious cunt.

"I thought so too, sweetheart, but apparently, you have this strange effect on me!"

After several minutes, Rob heard a hitch in her breathing. Beneath his tongue, the sweet clit began to swell yet again.

Holding the narrow hips, he pulled his head back.

"I want to fuck you, darling. I need to bury my prick in you." he said plaintively.

"Yes, I want that too." a breathless Aisling responded.

Aisling moved her hips further down so her hips hovered just over Rob’s narrow groin. His prick was swollen and stiff – glistening still from his previous cum as well as her saliva. The head was purple and spongy, the slit gaping, leaking a clear fluid which ran in rivulets down the lightly furred expanse of his flat stomach.

Reaching between her spread legs, she grasped that beautiful prick at the base, ready to sink down.

Rob stayed her with his hands.

"I'll do this, babe, you enjoy." he commanded.

"Kneel so that your feet are on either side of my hips and your ass is just over me." he directed.

Aisling, legs strong and toned from running, complied.

Rob now had a perfect view of her entire slit – from the impudent clit to the sweet furled mystery of her asshole.

Taking his prick in his hand, he pushed the head gently into the swollen folds of her cunt, soaking the head and then pushing gently, but inexorably upward.

He groaned as he watched his prick sink into the tight hole.

Slowly, taking his time he pushed it up as far as it could go, actually bumping against her cervix and causing her to take a breath.

"Did I hurt you, sweetie?" he asked anxiously.

"NO. That felt great!" she said.

Moaning, Rob held the narrow hips tightly, pulling her up and off his long stiff prick. Aisling watched too as the thick member pulled out of her tight hole, glistening with her juices. With a groan she sank down on it again, loving the feel of it pushing into her, splitting her open, pushing her folds impossibly apart and tight.

Rob reached over and fumbled in the night table, ensuring that his big prick remained embedded in its sweet prison.

Grabbing the KY, he poured a generous amount on his fingers.

"What's that?" Aisling, asked a little breathlessly.

"Have you ever been fucked in the ass, sweetie?" he asked.

"No."

Aisling sounded a little troubled.

Reaching up, Rob cupped her face and made her look at him.

"Would I EVER hurt you?" he asked.

"Noooo." she said a little uncertainly.

"And I won't now." he promised.

With that, Rob took his gel covered fingers and gently began to spread the KY over her ass, pushing a gel covered finger in and out of her tight rectum.

Aisling was pleasantly surprised. With the gel, there was no pain at all and in fact Rob’s finger felt really good fucking her up there. It felt full and sort of strange but definitely felt hot.

She closed her eyes and leaned back a little, giving him full visual access to his finger fucking.

Rob watched his own fingers push in and out of the tight sweet rectum. Carefully, not wanting to hurt her, he inserted a second finger, pushing slowly up and waiting as her asshole adjusted to the new invasion. Aisling groaned.

Above her swollen cunt was wet and glistening, leaking a clear arousal from the deep red hole while her clit quivered between her tight outer labia, clearly visible.

Rob pulled his fingers out with a pop and reaching, spread some more gel. Grasping his stiff, moist prick he coated it liberally with gel.

"Ready babe?" he asked.

Aisling opened her green eyes, heavy lidded and languorous. Her engorged breasts quivered, their nipples stiff and erect with arousal.

"Yes, I want you to fuck me there. Do it. Fuck me in the ass."

Holding her hips tightly with one hand, grasping his slippery heavy prick with the other, Rob directed the moist head of his cock toward the impossibly tiny asshole. Pointing the moist head of his prick, he pushed it gently at the tight muscled entrance, the slippery gel making it slide and occasionally push slightly, very slightly in.

There, the tip barely entered. Aisling squealed as she felt the thick head push the tight folds of her ass apart. She tensed. Rob reached down and began to caress and gently squeeze the wet slit. He badly wanted to thrust his big prick right up and to hell with it, but he held on with an iron resolve, allowing just the head to rest just inside that beautiful ass.

Aisling began to relax. She closed her eyes and explored the sensation of having the tip of a prick right up her virgin ass. It actually felt really sexy, she realized.

Her legs trembled as she maintained her crouched posture, legs akimbo, slit open to Rob’s unwavering gaze. Carefully, she looked down and by craning her head was able to just see the thick shaft whose head was now up her.

A wave of lust hit her at the sight of that thick red prick pushing up her asshole.

"Oh Robert!"

With a grunt, she carefully pushed her ass downward toward the slender groin and felt that big stiff prick sliding up her fundament.

"Oh God, oh god, oh god."

Rob literally thought he would go mad. His prick was buried so deep inside the tight ass, her sweet cheeks were actually resting on his groin, his balls nestled up against their firm warmth. His prick was so tightly held that it was almost painful, but a pain so exquisite he thought he would die.

It was no good, he had to thrust.

Holding her hips tightly, Rob pulled her up. The tight ass literally scraped and sucked at his prick as he pulled it out, then, with a groan, thrust it back in.

In and out, Rob shoved his thick cock. He watched avidly as that tiny asshole expanded as he pushed up, enveloping his cock in the most delicious tightness. Adjusting his rhythm, he released one of Aisling's narrow hips, and reached between the spread thighs to rub and manipulate her quivering, wet cunt.

Aisling's breath came rapidly. She had never felt anything like this before, this invasion up her most intimate parts. The feel of that big prick pushing up her ass was indescribable but unbelievably exciting. As he fucked his cock in and out, her own juices, running clear and sticky down the crack of her ass, coated the glistening shaft of his prick as he pulled it out only to thrust it up again.

She felt her womb quivering deep inside, her breasts trembling and jiggling, her clit hyper extended and sensitive. She looked down, her mouth slack, her eyes glazed and watched Rob take his big hand and oh so cleverly touch and twist that swollen clit. The sensation, together with the feel of that big cock pushing in and out, brought her over.

Wailing, Aisling pressed down, pushing as much of that huge cock up her as she could get. Her cunt spasmed and contracted, its deep red hole opening and closing, a thick whitish fluid spurting from between her nether lips.

Rob watched her cum and felt the sperm in his cock suddenly explode. Yelling, he pushed down on her hips, fucking his cock up deep, not caring if he hurt her, caring only that he had to empty his prick and spurt deep within that succulent ass.

Through the fog of her own orgasm, Aisling felt the long hot spurts of Rob’s prick emptying itself deep inside her most intimate hole.

"Yes, yes, yes, fuck me, cum in me." Aisling mumbled, breath hitching, breasts flushed and quivering.

"Here it is, sweetheart, here it is. Take all that cum, all that cum."

Rob thrust helplessly up, emptying his prick up Aisling’s tight, beautiful ass.

"There, there, it is. All of it. All of it up your ass." he cried.

Aisling felt the spurting cock start to slow as the last teaspoon of hot cum trickled out of Rob’s cock. Her breath came rapidly and hard as she gulped and tried to catch her breath. She felt weak and completely limp.

Leaning forward, she draped herself on Rob’s chest, relishing the comfort of his arms as they came around her to hug her close.

Rob's prick began to soften and shrink, and pulling Aisling closer, he felt it slip out of her abused asshole, cool air striking its reeking, glistening surface.

The two lay exhausted yet replete. As Rob drifted off to the soft sound of Aisling’s breath against his neck, he thought "I'll deal with this later."

The Lady - Chapter 1

2009-01-15T07:44:00.001-05:00

Her skin ripples, a soft whisper of movement as awareness of Her presence embraces and surrounds. Beneath the blindfold, her eyes flutter as her heartbeat drums a staccato against the pale flesh of her breast. She breathes deep and whimpers in pained ecstasy as her Lady’s scent fills her senses.

The small hairs on the back of her neck stand straight as warmth reaches out and almost caresses. Swaying, she undulates towards Her presence, yearning for Her touch.

caer is naked, her arms pulled tight behind her back, encircled with soft leather cuffs, strong with a velvet underband that caresses a translucent blue-veined wrist. Her shoulders tremble slightly, pulling her hands tight like this behind her always strains but she welcomes the small pain and offers it to Her with unspoken gratefulness.

She kneels, thighs spread wide as told, whispering a mantra to herself to keep open and available with pure devotion and determination. The delicate pale pink labia, already dewed with moisture and proof of her arousal glisten in the muted candlelight. The small breasts, tip tilted with swollen crimson nipples tremble as she moves restlessly on her knees. She straightens, thrusting her soft breasts out for Her use.

Cool, soft braided leather slip along her cheek causing her to start and stifle a cry. She can smell her own odour on its twisted cool surface and moans. Slowly, gently, barely touching, her Lady caresses her face, following the contour of jaw down the sweep of neck with its thick collar, touching and slightly flicking the straining shoulder blade then dropping to the plump, swollen breasts.

caer gasps as she feels the long slender stalk of the crop push in under her breasts, in the crease where the soft flesh meets the broad ribcage. As if weighing their bounty, her Lady lifts the breasts away from her chest, digging in with a sweet sharp pressure that makes caer cry out …

Her breasts, swollen, the nipples aching, are suspended for a moment and then she suddenly feels her Lady’s soft tongue sweep across their swollen tips.

Between her legs caer feels her arousal swell in a trickle of glistening clearness that trails a teardrop of diamonds across her inner thigh.

Her breasts fall back against her chest as her Lady pulls the crop from beneath them.

caer strains beneath her blindfold, eyes fluttering, ears straining as she tries to ascertain where her Lady stands.

She feels warmth as her Lady’s presence is suddenly behind her. She sighs as Her long slender fingers tangle in the muted ebony of tumbled curls. Tugging, she sways back, thighs trembling as she seeks her balance. She feels her Lady’s warm breath against her ear, not quite touching, a teasing promise that makes her shiver, goosebumps rippling the golden skin.

caer feels the promise of the crop again, trailing down the wings of her shoulder blades, pulling slightly at the bound hands, then suddenly, shockingly, she feels its leather kiss between her legs. Panting, she keeps her thighs spread although instinct pushes her to pull close, to protect that delicate inner skin against the intrusion.

caer moans as the fall of the crop snaps against her spread inner lips, flicking the swollen nub of her pleasure and torment.

A wet sweet sound as moisture spatters against the long, pale lips, as the crop licks at her perfidious body, then again, soft, then hard and she feels Her Lady’s hand at her neck, holding her still and breasts trembling, she fights to stay still as her Lady demands.

The hot sweet lick of pain against her most delicate parts sparks fire in caer’s soul. She moans quietly, pushing back against her Lady’s fingers which dig cruelly into the slender neck, grasping the collar which declares Her ownership.

She feels her Lady’s sweet breath against her cheek, vanilla laced coffee scent which floods her with an atavistic rush of memory and want.

Her own hands, capable and practical, checking the beans for freshness, sliding them through expert fingers, assessing the oil and colour and texture. Breathing deep the deep, rich scent and choosing carefully the amount. Arms piled with fresh coffee beans, dairy fresh butter and crusty multigrain bread, slipping quietly into a silent house where her Lady sleeps a deep, welcoming sleep of contentment.

Muffling the grinder with a towel so as not to wake her Lady, slicing thick crusty rounds of yeasty grainy bread, topped with fresh churned butter and the jam she had put up the summer before. Setting the tray with Irish lace and heavy silver cutlery, pinching off the tip of a beautiful yellow tulip from the bunch she had bought her Lady yesterday, placing it in a small cut crystal vase on the pristine tray.

Then, with a click allowing classical music, muted and sweet, to infuse the quiet air of the house, carefully balancing her tray, eddies of ambrosic coffee scent eddying about her, she gently wakes her Lady.

A sharp nip at her ear brings her back to the reality of sensation. Consciousness floods back in a delicious wave of pain and pleasure, so inextricably entwined she cannot differentiate where one starts and the other ends.

She gasps as her Lady kneels behind her, her Lady’s hands coming around the trembling torso to cup the heaving breasts. Lost, she cannot stop herself from leaning back against Her, the feel of her Lady’s hard nipples, the soft fullness of her heavy breasts against her back so all encompassing she panics as she feels the heavy, painful pressure deep inside so intensely that she fights for control.

Her Lady’s soft seductive breath is hot against her ear. caer pants, desperately, harshly, her breath loud in the quiet air.

Her Lady grasps the firm breasts, their sweet flesh barely filling Her palms, but the nipples, thick, engorged with blood and arousal deliciously swollen.

caer stills as her Lady’s hands cup, squeeze, and then pull, thumb and forefingers grasping the crimson tips suddenly, pinching and pulling them away from the soft flesh.

Between her spread thighs, caer feels a warm, hot stream of liquid trickle from the swollen, aroused folds of her most intimate place.

Without conscious volition, caer pushes back against the delicious, heavy breasts of her Beloved, her skin singing with desire and lust, relishing the feel of hard pebbly nipples scraping along her shoulder wings, the hot soft give of breast flesh.

Rich, earthy, the air is perfumed with their arousal, hot, rich female scents, clean and astringent as their bodies burgeon and flow, hot sweet trickles of desire and preparation bedewing thighs, swelling breasts and engorging nipples.

Deep within, the hot sweet ache of lust, the familiar heaviness building deep in her groin, caer trembles on her abraded knees. The building, the pushing, the urgency of her need begins to overwhelm and she trembles, her strong body weak and disoriented as her Lady plays, pulls and pinches, abusing the soft breast flesh of Her plaything with delight. Against her back her Lady’s breasts create a symphony of sensation that threaten to drag caer into a maelstrom of acquiescence.

“Not yet.” Her Lady’s voice, implacable.

Tears seep unbidden from beneath the blindfold, acid trails of despair trailing a crystal trail of regret along the flushed cheeks. caer breathes deep, seeking her center, seeking her control as she has been taught by Her Lady and finds a shaky, tremulous hold over her treacherous body.

Ruthlessly, she mentally pushes back the hot heaviness which wants to explode from her abused flesh, grasping the dissipating threads of determination to exert a terrible control over what she cannot have.

Her Lady stands and caer moans in despair as she feels the soft warmth of her Lady’s body leave her back, her breasts bereft as her Lady’s hands leave their sensitive tips.

Then she feels Her beloved presence in front of her and her Lady’s hands are at her eyes and the flaps unclipped and caer blinks even in the muted candle lit glow of the room, her great eyes luminous, their deep, rich sherry coloured orbs glittering with the sheen of tears.

Her lady stands before her, Her very presence a shining beacon of glory, the pale hair silky and wild around the ivory face, Her pale blue eyes stormy, glittering and clear, relishing the sight of Her property kneeling before Her. Her magnificent breasts are bare, full, heavy, swollen globes, deliciously soft skinned, the luscious nipples, swollen tipped and erect.

Capturing the adoring gaze of her girl, She smiles a rich, lazy smile of ownership. Her Lady carefully, slowly cups a heavy breast.

caer, frozen, feels her mouth dry as she watches Her Lady hold Her own breast in Her soft, strong hands, cupping the heavy weight of it and holding it like a luscious piece of fruit, then leaning, her Lady comes near. caer watches as her Lady’s beautiful breast, the flesh firm, the skin soft, ivory pale over flushed muscle and the rich swelling deliciousness of it fills her gaze and a rush of intense, hot need to her lower body, so overwhelming she almost cries out in pain.

Her Lady delicately, softly rubs the hot tip of Her erect nipple against the flushed cheek of Her possession, trailing the sweet tender flesh along the path of tears as if sipping up the reality of caer’s submission, coating Her own flesh in the salt bounty of Her property’s sacrifice.

caer sways, her eyes caught by the beauty of the pale tipped breast, its tip glistening with her own tears, the flesh incredibly soft and pale, the fingers of Her Lady denting the swollen, rich underside with its delectable rich underhang.

Still holding her full, heavy breast, the tip glittering, her Lady pulls a small hassock in front of where Her property kneels. Now, Her breasts are directly in front of the pleading gaze of Her submissive. Gently, She tangles Her fingers in the tumbled curls of Her darling, and guides Her breast to the soft lips which tremble as caer sees the bounty being conferred upon her.

Like a baby at the breast, her Lady rubs the salt tipped glistening nipple against Her property’s small mouth and obediently, caer opens her trembling lips, moaning as she sighs and closes her eyes and pulls into her undeserving mouth, the prize she has been offered.

She can taste her own despair on the full, warm deliciousness of her Lady’s flesh and the reality that she has been given this bounty, this delight, overwhelms. Breathing through her nose, she suckles strongly at her Lady’s breast, her lips pulled up and around her teeth so as not to mark the beautiful flesh, pulling the hard swollen nipple to the back of her mouth, her tongue laving the sensitive tip, her lips working strongly at the ducts surrounding the nipple.

As she suckles, caer feels her Lady’s hands tangle in the black curls, tugging at the roots, lightly, then harder until a hot searing delicious pain sparks fire into the aching tips of her own breasts. She whimpers against her Lady’s sweet flesh, tears seeping from the corners of her shut eyes, feeling overwhelmed between the bounty of her Lady’s flesh and the ache now spreading throughout her abused scalp.

[continued]

The Good Neighbour - Chapter 1

2008-12-09T19:03:00.000-05:00

There. That bloody thing's done!"

Rob threw down the pen, having put in the last figures. Leaning back in his chair, he yawned mightily, flexing his arms over his head. He needed a workout, he mused as he stretched his muscles. For an accountant he was in remarkably good shape.

Although 50, his stomach was flat, his arms well muscled and his hair was as thick and unruly as when he was 20. He refused to submit to the stereotypical accountant persona – and as a result, spent several sweaty, hard evenings a week in the gym.

The banker's light on his desk cast a warm glow on the paperwork he had just finished. Dusk was creeping in on cat's feet, casting shadows outside the window, while tendrils of waning sunlight sent fingers of illumination, motes of dust dancing in the air, picking out the oxblood red of the couch which stood in front of the dormant fireplace. Bookcases lined every available space, floor to ceiling; oak shelves dusty and warm, groaning with the weight of words and scholarship. The floor to ceiling glass doors to the private patio were obscured by heavy curtains, which he had pulled against the glare of afternoon sun.

He yawned again, closing his eyes, relieving the strain of making out tiny columns of numbers and dates.

Padding to the doors on bare feet, flagstones cool against his feet he pulled the curtain slightly and looked out, breathing in the soft summer air, which wafted through the screen.

The patio was his private oasis, his way of de-stressing after busy, demanding days. Reached by several tumbled stone steps down from the main garden, fieldstone walls enclosed on three sides a sweet escape. Morning glories grew in riotous abandon along the nooks and crannies, their tenacious tendrils able to grasp and survive anywhere. Heart shaped leaves and the sweet bloom of the trumpet flours, blue and pink and fuscia softened the tumbled stone while hollyhocks, sunflowers and Echinacea filled out overblown but lovely flower beds. Red terra cotta bricks provided a resting place for a comfortably distressed cast iron bench.

He was alone in the house, his wife away, and his daughter out on a date and the remoteness of his secret haven meant that even nosy neighbours had no egress to its quiet serenity. He was therefore shocked when suddenly he heard a feminine voice, almost right outside the screen. Pausing, he listened intently, wondering whom it was.

As he went to pull open the door, Rob heard a male voice. Rob peeked around, curious to see who had invaded his private space.

The first thing he saw was the long slender legs of a woman, her narrow hips snugly encased in a very short tartan kilt. A skimpy tank top barely enclosed her very generous breasts. What made him gasp were the hands, which were squeezing and fondling heavy breasts.

"Christ." he muttered, mortified and embarrassed. Pulling back carefully, he made sure he was hidden behind the curtain.

It was unlikely anyone could see in. The waning sun reflected off the glass doors which were further obscured by the heavy curtains.

Despite himself, Rob peeked around yet again, curious to see who was being so delightfully bold. That’s when he saw the heavy fall of hair and recognized his next-door neighbour, Aisling with some guy's hands all over those delectable breasts! He admitted to himself as he reluctantly felt a prickling of envy, that he had had some very unneighbourly thoughts about those pretty breasts before. He had chastised himself each time he caught himself eyeing those heavy orbs, but at the same time realized he was only human and Aisling had a definite penchant for displaying those breasts as much as possible.

Rob's mouth felt extremely dry as peeking around, he saw the man's hands had now pushed the tank up and the pale skinned heavy breasts were now free of any restraint. Rob felt his jaw fall open. He had imagined (he admitted to himself rather ashamedly) what those breasts would look like naked but the reality was overwhelming.

Large and full, they hung heavy, jutting from her chest, firm and buoyant. Her nipples were a dark brown, with large areoles. The tips were swollen and hard, extended like little thumbs from a breathtaking tilted expanse of pale flesh.

He watched, fascinated as the boy leaned down and began to lap at the sweet morsel of flesh he cupped in his hand.

At that point, Rob had to stifle an unashamed giggle as he recognized the pool boy who serviced both his own pool and those of many of his neighbours; apparently the “servicing” went a mite further than just cleaning the water!. He felt a delightful, uncharacteristic silliness at the whole clichéd nature of the cougar and the pool boy,(although calling Aisling (who was a delectable 32 or so), a “cougar” was taking artistic license.

Aisling groaned, her slender hand coming up to cup the head now suckling eagerly at the breast. Rob watched as she cupped her own breast, pushing the nipple further into the eager mouth. He heard the boy's harsh breathing through the screen, the suckling sound of his wet hot mouth on the heavy breast.

Unaware, Rob's own breathing was coming faster. He watched, enraptured as his neighbour , giggling pulled her breast from the boy's mouth. Dropping to her knees, he saw her fumble at the boy's pants.

The sound of a zipper was crystal clear in the quiet of the evening. Rob watched as the boy's painfully stiff cock suddenly sprung out. From his vantage point he could see that it was impressively thick, the head spongy and a deep rose, drooling clear viscous fluid from its tip.

Aisling leaned over and opening her sweet mouth sank down onto the cock. Rob gasped, then caught himself. He was helpless. Unable to stop himself, his hand crept down and he cupped his own, now heavy aching erection. Carefully, quietly, he unzipped and let his drooling prick free. After all, he thought, they WERE invading HIS place of refuge …

Slowly, gently, so as not to make any sudden movements that might attract attention, he began to rub his prick up and down its thick, moist shaft, his eyes glued to the unbelievably erotic sight of his next-door neighbour sucking cock.

He watched as her head bobbed up and down, the boy's hands tangled now in her flaming curls, urging that sweet mouth closer and deeper.

A click and a soft light illuminated the darkening garden and Rob suddenly had a far clearer picture of the white shaft, flecked with dark hair appearing and disappearing in the tight bud of her mouth, the sound of her sucking and licking it driving him quite mad.

One of Aisling's hands went to one heavy breast, and Rob stifled a groan as he saw her cup and fondle the orb, then begin to pluck at the delectable stiff nipple. He realized, unbelievably turned on, that he wanted HIS mouth there, suckling the delicious breast.

He could see the firm muscled buttocks of the boy flexing and relaxing as he pushed his cock in and out of Aisling's mouth. While he watched, he heard the boy groan, his hands tightening convulsively on the red curls and suddenly he lurched forward, a keening cry renting the quiet of the garden.

Rob gasped as Aisling gasped, tried to pull back. The boy's hands tightened, his buttocks clenching and he saw her cheeks balloon out.

"Oh Christ, oh Christ." he said under his breath, his hand working frantically at his cock.

He felt like he was going to explode as he realized that the boy was pumping jets of hot cum right down that pale, working throat, and felt his mouth dry as he watched the long expanse of throat swallow convulsively. He could see it dribbling out the side, drooling rivulets of frothy cum down the corners of her mouth as she struggled to swallow this unexpected bounty.

It was over before he could take a deep breath. Aisling pulled away, her throat working as she tried to swallow the mouthful of hot cum. The boy, legs trembling, sat heavily down on the bench, gasping.

Rob was almost in shock. He looked down at his damp palm, smeared and wet with the clear fluid which was leaking from the slit at the top of his rock hard prick.

A trilling startled him, and he fumbled at his cock, trying to stuff it back in. Then he realized it was a cell, and listening intently, heard the boy talking to someone. Peeking around, he saw him with the phone to his ear, one hand absently rubbing Aisling's breast. Then, unbelievably (from Rob's perspective) the boy turned to Aisling and very obviously was trying to placate her.

Aisling was furious. He could see by the stiffness in her back which was facing him that she was in one of her fully-fledged redheaded tempers. Living next door was in itself sometimes a soap opera, and Rob and Monique had listened with guilty delight to the massive battles that sometimes occurred next to their yard. Aisling was speaking sharply to the boy. Rob could just catch a few words.

"you ... had ...cum". she said angrily.

"and me?" he heard.

The boy spoke again, whining slightly. Rob had to stifle a laugh– the kid obviously wasn't that familiar with the flame haired woman if he thought a few words would suffice.

Suddenly, a sharp crack rent the air. Again, peeking, clutching his still stiff prick, Rob saw the boy turn angrily, a red welt adorning his face.

Aisling stood seething, great breasts heaving.

As the boy ascended the stairs, she suddenly turned towards the door where Rob stood. Rob suddenly realized that he was standing there with a naked erect prick in his hand, very obviously in a rampant state of sexual excitement and Aisling was starting RIGHT at him!

As her steps came closer, he tried desperately to stuff his drooling cock back into his pants but to no avail. Larger than average, there was no way he could get it back in in the state it was in.

"Rob?!"

Aisling stood gape mouthed. There stood her handsome neighbour, his unruly auburn curls tousled and wild, a very guilty look on that handsome face and clutched in his big hand, a very impressive, very erect prick.

"Where's your car?" she asked inconsequentially, figuring it was safer than commenting on the sight of Rob with a stiff cock in his hand.

"In for a tune up." Rob answered, again trying to stuff his stiff prick back in his pants.

"I didn't think anyone was here." she said, weakly, suddenly furiously mortified. A furious blush suddenly swept up the pale freckled skin, flushing the pale heavy breasts, turning the pretty face crimson..

"I figured I was safer here in your little escape." she offered.

Aisling's eyes couldn't help focusing on that big delicious prick clutched in Rob’s hand. God, it was absolutely yummy. Then she was horrified at herself. Suddenly, she realized WHY it was so rampantly erect.

"You were watching?" she asked incredulously.

Rob felt like he wanted the floor to open and swallow him. His prick, as if sensing his misery, began to wilt and he was able to at last stuff it back in his open zipper.

"I'm really sorry, Aisling.... I didn't plan it. I actually went to the door to say hey and...." his voice trailed off.

"and down I came with my tits hanging out." she said glumly.

"Sorta." he offered.

Aisling turned and stalking to the couch, plunked herself on it, breasts quivering. She sat, long slender legs akimbo. Rob walked over the chair which was placed at an angle to the couch, and sat down. Despite his best intentions, his eyes were drawn inexorably to the long, slender legs, the plump, sweet pussy was clearly visible, the long lips swollen, the line of her thong disappearing between ...

"Did you SEE what that bastard DID?" she asked furiously.

"I give him a frigging blow job that was ONLY supposed to be the beginning. He blows his wad then blows me off!"

Aisling was in the full throes of one of her temper tantrums, Rob’s transgressions forgotten for the moment as she seethingly brooded on the unfairness of it all.

"I'm SO horny I could SCREAM!" she said angrily.

Then, in a lightning change of mood, Aisling’s pretty face crumpled and tears began to run down the long elegant nose.

Rob forgot his prick and moved quickly to the couch. Sitting down, he patted her shoulder awkwardly, murmuring words of sympathy. Wailing, Aisling turned her face into him, thrusting the heavy breasts against his arm and leaning heavily against him. Without conscious thought, Rob gathered the small, trim figure into his arms. Nestling that sweet ass down against his lap, cuddling her tight to his chest, he turned her head into his shoulder, her sweet breath at his ear.

Aisling sobbed. Rob desperately tried to concentrate on soothing her , but could not help but be aware of the heavy breast now pressing against his arm and the feel of her sweet heart-shaped ass pushing into his still erect prick.

He was aware too that her breath had the distinct aroma of cum on it and that made him think again of the erotic tableau he had just witnessed. He had seen that boy cum, cum hard and fast and copiously into her sweet mouth. He had watched while she swallowed it all down with evident enjoyment.

He realized that her sobs had quietened and Aisling lay heavy against him. She was, he realized, dreamily rubbing her distended nipple under the thin tank top against his arm. The little vixen suddenly wiggled, rubbing her ass against his groin. He groaned, unable to help himself.

Her voice was low and breathy.

"You like that, Rob? Does it feel good?"

"Oh baby, baby." Rob couldn't answer.

His cock felt like an iron bar, it was so stiff it was actually painful.

"Rob, I've never seen your prick before. It's really big, isn't it? Monique never let on for a second." mused his bold neighbour.

She turned her cum-laden breath against his cheek, then carefully but deliberately she fastened her sweet lips on his. This was not a friendly kiss. Rob hesitated, trying to exert some control. Aisling tightened her arms around his neck, pushing her ass harder onto the stiff cock underneath and her tongue, coated and unbelievably sexy invaded his mouth.

Rob gave up. With a sigh, he gathered her and his mouth tightened on hers. His tongue invaded the warm cavern of her mouth, his tongue flicking out to taste the come laden breath. His hand reached down and fumbling at her top, pulled up the tank until the heavy globular breast was exposed. Cupping and squeezing, he fondled the warm breast.

As his hand weighed that beautiful heavy weight, his fingers rolling that sweet nipple between his fingers, Rob had a moment of lucidity.

"Aisling, we can't do this." he said desperately. His mind tried to form some resistance, sliding around thoughts of his wife, whom he loved desperately.

“I need help." she breathed into his mouth, her hands moving down and caressing his chest, and then, insinuating its way between the buttons of his shirt, seeking out the nubs of his own nipples.

"We're not hurting anyone." she said coaxingly.

Aisling took the strong hand and rubbing her fingers soothingly along its palm, suddenly placed it between her taut thighs. Unbelievably, Rob realized his hand was full of hot, swollen, aroused cunt.

Rob was finished. Wrong or not, he was going to have this woman. His experienced fingers moved carefully between the swollen folds of the slippery cunt until they found her sweet nub, and then, exquisitely gently, he rolled her clit between his fingers.

Aisling gasped, stiffening as his experienced fingers did something rather delicious between her taut thighs.. Parting her legs a little wider she pushed into that delectable hand.

Rob carefully, gently worked the stiff clit. She was unbelievably wet, his hand was already soaked with the sweet, sticky juice which was dribbling out of her sweet hole. His big thumb went down and Aisling gasped again as she felt his thumb suddenly sink to the apex of his hand into her cunt.

Groaning, she released his lips and leaned into the pressure.

Rob pushed her slightly to give him access to her sweet stiff nipple. Lipping it, he lapped at it like a kitten, then sucking it in between experienced lips began to suckle. Aisling squirmed. She had had her tits sucked before but never like this. It was if a cord attached that sucking mouth to her womb. Deep inside, she felt her womb squeeze and contract as the rhythmic sucking on her nipple. Who would have thought this usual stuffed shirt was so talented?

Rob closed his eyes, his mouth full of heavy tit, his hand buried in a delicious, hot cunt. Expertly he rolled that sweet clit, pushing his thumb against the back until he felt the spongy G-spot. Rhythmically, he began pushing against it in sync with his work on her clit.

He felt her breathing quicken until he realized she was panting against him. On his wrist, he felt her thighs tighten and knew she was close. He increased his rhythmic working against her cunt then was suddenly rewarded as her voice rent the quiet of the room in a low scream.

Rob groaned against the warm, rubbery flesh of her breast as he felt her come. Contractions squeezed his hand and his fingers were almost dislodged as her sweet hips jerked and bucked against his clever hand.

Rob kept that beautiful nipple between his teeth, his hand gently working that sweet spasming cunt as the contractions began to lessen. In his arms, Aisling, panting, lay heavily against him, eyes closed, chest heaving.

Aisling was in bliss. She had learned a long time ago to bring herself to a very satisfying climax but despite the fact that she loved fucking and everything else about sex, she had never had a guy bring her off just with his hand before.

Beneath her ass, she felt the iron rod of Rob’s erection. Aisling grinned inwardly.

"Bet he thinks that's it." she thought happily, “not a chance …”

When she had walked in , incredibly sexually frustrated and angry, only to see her Rob clutching that huge prick, she was first and foremost incredibly turned on. Between her legs was an incredible aching void and at this point she didn't give a good goddam who filled it. She liked Rob well enough and she, along with many of the neighbourhood women had often speculated on the hard bodied maturity of this unusual accountant.

Actually seeing that big prick had done something to her that she hadn't expected and she knew that her night wouldn't be complete until she actually had that big thing probing between her legs.

Rob switched to the other breast now, rolling and pinching the well suckled nipple of the first one between clever fingers. She could feel the dampness leaking from between her legs, and was sure she was staining the front of his pants.

Gasping, she took his head by a shock of his thick hair.

"ROB!"

"Oh baby, do you feel better now?"

"MUCH." she said happily. "But now YOU."

"No, sweetheart, it's ok, I'll be fine. I'm just glad you're happy." Rob said, meaning it but hating the reality of his sincerity. Aisling giggled.

"Silly Rob. Do you think I'm going to stop until I get that big prick up me?" she said coarsely.

Rob jerked up to meet her merry green gaze. Narrowed, lustful, there was no mistaking her intent.

"Ash?" he asked incredulously.

"Let me be clear, darling." said his neighbour quietly. "I want you to fuck me. I want that big prick pumping in and out of me".

"Oh baby, let me, please, please, please let me." Rob's voice was hoarse and he unashamedly begged.

"I want to, Rob. But you need to take off your pants." she said giggling.

Gathering himself, Rob picked the delicious armful up, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back. The big heavy breasts jounced as he stood, the nipples erect and wet with his saliva.

Placing her gently on the couch, unable to resist, cupping the heavy breasts and once again suckling gently then pulling back. He looked at her uncertainly, his hand on his zipper.

"Baby, I shouldn't be doing this." he murmured guiltily, trying to think of his lovely Monique who he was now planning to betray.

"Oh NO ROB! Don't you dare!"

Aisling leaned forward and before he could react, had unzipped his pants and was tugging them off his hips.

"Oh YES!" she said reverently as the big stiff cock sprang up in all its glory.

Her eyes narrowed and literally shot sparks as she leaned forward, blowing gently on the erect member.

Rob had a really good cock. A little over average size, thick and sturdy with an uncircumcised swollen head, which at this point, was drooling clear viscous pre-cum in a steady stream.

Aisling devoured the sight of the erect cock with lustful eyes. Then meeting his gaze, she stood. Deliberately, keeping his eyes on her, she first peeled off her tank top, exposing her heavy breasts in all their glory. Then, bending slightly, she unbuckled the clasp at the waist of her kilt and allowed it to fall.
Cupping her breasts she pirouetted, only a thin thong marring the perfection of her body.

Voluptuous and curving, Aisling took after her mother's side of the family in terms of her figure. Narrow shoulders, heavy globular breasts, a tiny waist and sweet curving hips. Her pudendum was plump and shaved, the sweet lips barely obscured by a wisp of cloth. Turning deliberately, Aisling showed the enraptured Rob the plump, firm globes of her ass, the string of her thong appearing at the sweet apex of her back.

Rob felt like his prick was going to explode. He didn't think it had ever been this hard. Holding his aching cock in his hand, already sticky and coated with Aisling’s juices, he could feel the sperm humming in his heavy testicles.

Aisling stretched and then seductively, beckoned.

"I'll suck your cock another time." she promised. "You know I can do that well! But right now ..."

Aisling reached up and her lips clung to his, his heavy erection between them like a bar.

"Please fuck me." she asked in a wheedling voice.

Rob had reached the point of no return. Putting his hands the lush hips, he turned her, roughly rubbing his hands against the firm globes of her ass, parting the cheeks crudely.

He put his hand on her lower back and pushed her down to the carpet which was a soft tapestry of gold and red and green, then stood back and drank in the scene. The muted light from the desk spilled golden over the pale soft flesh of the delectable ass. In this position he could see her long, plump slit, her cunt gaping slightly, juicy and swollen. Her heavy breasts hung like ripe fruit, the nipples dark and erect, almost brushing the carpet.

Outside night had fallen and only a hint of illumination came from behind the heavy curtains.

Cocooned, safe, he felt master of his domain.

Not a man to hesitate, he recognized this woman needed a stiff cock up that delectable pussy and he was going to provide it, good or bad.

Kneeling behind her, he grasped his heavy prick carefully. Nestling between the sweet cheeks of her ass, he pushed the head gently into the swollen folds of her cunt.

Aisling groaned as she felt the heavy prick probing and pushing ever so gently into her innermost recesses. Impatient, she wiggled. She didn't want this careful probing, she wanted a big cock hard and stiff, slamming into her!

Almost angrily she sank her ass back against Rob’s groin, impaling herself on that heavenly morsel of flesh and relishing every single inch as it slid up into her.

Rob yelled as he felt her envelope his aching member. Lust clouded his mind and grasping those lush hips, he slammed into her, thrusting as deep as it would go until he felt his rampant prick bump her cervix.

Aisling screamed and slammed her hips against him. Rob began to pump, hard and fast and deep, his prick sliding and thrusting in and out, in and out. Juice poured in a veritable stream from the incredibly tight cunt. It had been so long since he had felt another cunt he thought inconsequently as he relished the sucking sound his cock made as he pulled it from the tight embrace of the clinging hole.

Sweat poured off Rob's face as he fucked Aisling with long, sure, hard strokes, slapping that lush ass so that she started and shoved back at him even harder. He could feel his balls tightening, all that sperm just bubbling and waiting to be expelled.

"Girl – are you on the pill?" he managed to gasp.

"Yes yes! Come in me!" she yelled.

As she said that, Rob suddenly felt that incredible cunt tighten almost painfully around his distended cock. Giving a keening yell, Aisling’s orgasm hit. Contraction after contraction radiated from her womb in concentric circles of ecstasy. She had NEVER felt this, never ... her breath came so hot and hard she thought she might pass out.

His cock felt so fucking good in her tight hole, so good ... she couldn't believe she hadn’t noticed him before... it was almost painful as her cunt tightened and throbbed. But Rob kept pounding, shoving his hard prick into the wet, sucking cunt. Aisling felt something tight and even more exciting happening now, right in her slit – right where she usually peed.

For a moment, Aisling thought, shocked, that she was peeing. Putting her hand up, moaning, she felt something liquid and wet squirting from the front of her slit. The liquid was clear and had no scent, but like ejaculate it was squirting in a rhythmic stream from between her tight, swollen lips.

"Rob?" she said shocked.

"Oh sweetheart, I’m almost there, babe, don't stop, please, please don't stop." Rob panted. "Let me come in your sweet hole, please sweetheart."

"Yes but ... feel!"

Aisling took his hand and balancing placed it between her legs as he leaned over her heaving back.

Rob felt the hot stream and went over.

"Oh baby, you're squirting. You're squirting for me!"

Groaning, he slammed his heavy prick as far up that sweet hole as he could, flattening the plump cheeks of her ass, knocking his balls against that sweet streaming slit and yelled as his prick began to jerk and spurt hot streams of cum in her cunt.

Rob groaned. He felt as if his soul was being sucked out with the jerking and spurting of his prick. He wanted to empty every single drop of cum into that sweet spasming pussy.

Slowly, his prick emptied, the last drops of cum trickling out in a delicious stream into the overflowing folds of Aisling's pussy, squeezing out where his big prick plugged her tight, sweet hole and dribbling down the taut thighs.

Aisling collapsed in an exhausted heap onto the carpet. Rob rolled to one side and gathered up the delicious body into his arms, one hand cupping one heavy breast possessively, the other cupping that sweet cunt, pushing that plump ass up against his deflating prick, which soft now, slipped, spent and coated out of the tight pussy.

The two of them lay, chests heaving, trying to catch their breaths.

Aisling, younger and more resilient was the first to recover.

Rolling over, she lay half on top of Rob’s chest, green eyes mirroring his blue gaze.

"THAT was YUMMY!" she said happily.

"Oh baby, yes, yes I would agree ." he told her shakily, tendrils of his conscience starting to prick him.

"We are going to do that LOTS." Aisling said complacently, patting the long flaccid prick laying now across his thigh.

Rob looked at her.

"Yes." she said happily.

With some trepidation, Rob looked at her. The thick, curling red hair tumbled over the pale narrow shoulder, fanning into his face and smelling deliciously of vanilla and woman and sex. The heavy, soft breasts were warm against his chest and her long slender thighs rode one muscled leg, slick and wet with their mingled juices. Sinuously, Aisling contracted her hips slightly, pushing against the long, heavy prick, and shocked, Rob felt it twitching and taking notice.

Heavy lidded green eyes looked into his as Aisling slashed a naughty grin and then slowly slid down his body.

Introduction to bliss

2008-11-17T07:30:00.000-05:00

Rob, sitting his office, the window open to the back garden, finished his tea and thought about his wife. After all these years, she still had the ability to make him harden just thinking of her. He mused that he had been up that pussy of hers a million times but each time it was like the first.

But a stray thought several months ago had turned to obsession and he wanted not just the pussy but that sweet little hole just down from it. Anal sex was not something his usually adventurous wife had ever expressed an interest in exploring, and a few tentative forays towards that delectable hole between those beautiful plump cheeks had been seen as a misdirection and she had made it quite clear that there was no going there.

He however had other plans. He had been the first (although not the last) to introduce that tight little Clara Bow mouth to a stiff cock and the first to take a cock and shove it up her virgin cunt. He was quite determined now to take the virginity of the one orifice he hadn't yet plundered.

Unbeknownst to her, he had been in essence, "training" her for the past few months. He had begun carefully, simply by allowing a finger to rub between those sweet cheeks, barely touching the closed furled hole of her anus.

He had done this for some time, until he found she wasn't starting or jumping and in fact had begun, albeit unaware, to rub that sweet ass against his invading finger. Then slowly, gently, he would allow the tip of a finger to just barely enter.

He didn't know how he had maintained his control, particularly when he his big cock was thrusting in and out of that hot warm hole of hers and his hands were tight around those slender hips, one long finger just pushing ever so gently inside.

Now, he felt she was ready. The past few weeks as he had sucked and licked that sweet dripping pussy he had actually had her sink that sweet ass right down to envelope his finger as he ate her. His own orgasm had several times spurted out onto cool sheets as he felt her cunt spasm and that tight scrumptious asshole tighten and loosen around his finger as she came.

Finishing his tea, he stood, determined to do it tonight. Monique had gone upstairs, worn out from a busy work week to lay down for a nap.

Quietly, he went up the stairs, his cock already stirring at the thought of the treat in store.

She was asleep when he entered the room, deep dusk lending a golden glow to the pale walls of their bedroom. Through the open window, a soft breeze wafted, tremulous and sweet, a hint of autumn in its promise. She lay insensate, sleeping quietly atop the cool cotton sheets of their bed. Halfway on her side, the low bodice of her gown gaped open, revealing the soft mounds of her breasts. He admired them, the way in this position they dropped in a juicy mouthful, their bulk plump and inviting, the pink tips quiet in sleep. Her nipples were large nubs nestled into the surrounding pink areoles.

Going to his side of the bed, he noted with pleasure her skirt was ruched up around her waist. Monique's long slender legs were open, her sweet slit vulnerable to his greedy gaze.

Easing himself gently onto the bed, so as not to awaken her, he idly stroked the bulk beneath his pants.

Carefully, inwardly grinning at himself, he bent close to study that luscious cunt. Her ass cheeks were round and firm and plump and closed over the small pink anus. Further down he could see her cunt hole, a dark pink indentation between her legs, the soft folds which normally enfolded a stiff prick in swollen joy, smooth and tight.

From her vagina, her inner lips swept down, barely visible within the warm prison of the pale, shaven outer lips of her cunt. Because her cunt was pressed together by her tangled legs, he couldn't even see the nub of her clitoris, only surmise it slept quietly beneath its protective hood.

Sucking one finger, he very gently, so gently so as not to wake her, pushed the tip of his finger into the irresistible tightness of her pussy. Her cunt seemed to sigh and open very slowly as he inserted his finger, and he took a deep breath as his stiff finger sank into warm wet folds.

"The little devil!" he thought.

"She's wet… she must be having nice dreams."

Leaving just his fingertip enveloped and warm, he reached up with his thumb and very carefully separated her cunt lips, burrowing beneath to find the nub of her pleasure.

She sighed and moved restlessly, changing position just slightly. He froze, then as her breathing deepened once again, he again searched for her clitoris with his impudent finger, barely touching her, just carefully and silently burrowing between the slick, inner lips of her cunt.

There, he sighed as his questing finger touched her center. Flicking ever so softly he woke up the sleeping tip of her pleasure. Within seconds, he felt the finger he still had buried in her pussy dampen as her juices began to flow.

He watched fascinated as her arousal grew.

Alternatively flicking and burrowing, his fingers worked gently in her cunt, thrusting into her vagina, softly touching her clitoris then moving back to push even further up her hole. His finger was buried to the knuckle now and when he pulled it out it glistened with her juice, lessening the friction and allowing him to more easily push it in and out.

He could feel the soft, pliable folds of her cunt fold around the invading digit, swelling and expanding as he continued his ministrations.

Looking carefully at her cunt, he saw that the tight pink hole of her cunt was now stained a deeper, more intense fuchsia, the folds plumping and swelling as he watched. Her clitoris which had moments before been hidden between its protective lips was now thrusting its red tip out, begging for his touch. Her entire vulva was glistening as the juice began to trickle steadily from her cunt hole, which gaped and then closed as he pulled and pushed his finger in and out.

His prick was stiffening and swelling as her sweet musk wafted into the summer soft dusty glow of the room. Beneath, the cotton sheets felt cool on his flushed skin. The whirr of cicadas outside the window and the far-off cries of the children playing on the road made the intimacy of his actions all the more poignant. He felt as if the two of them, his sleeping beauty and he, were enveloped in a magic world of sensuality and touch

His prick felt stiff as an iron bar and moving his hand from the delectable cunt, he slowly pushed himself off the bed.

Undoing his fly, his cock sprang out, erect and wet with precome juice. He quietly stepped out of his pants, pushing them off his hips, relishing the freedom as his heavy cock bobbed free.

Then he stood for a moment, his hand pulling at his yearning prick, admiring the hot, swollen cunt which was fully exposed to him.

Kneeling, he carefully inched his way until he was directly behind her, spoon fashion. Then using his fingers, he pushed his prick down until its glistening spongy head was pointed at the beckoning cunt hole.

With a slight movement of his hips, taking care not to touch her with any other part of his body, he thrust his cock head just into her cunt.

She groaned, her eyes fluttered and he stilled, leaving the head of his cock embedded in her, dribbling juice which mingled with the wet sticky residue of her own arousal.

Her breathing quickened and leaning over, he saw her eyes fluttering beneath the closed lids.

Carefully, gently, stifling a groan at the sweet feel, he pushed another inch of his stiff cock into her.

Her hips moved almost involuntarily and yet another inch of his stiff white shaft disappeared into her juicy hole. He had to exert every ounce of self restraint to stop himself from shoving his cock right up, but he wanted this to last and he wanted to fuck her as long as he could before she awoke.

He felt like Prince Charming and mused on whether the Prince, coming upon that beautiful woman, had in fact woken her with a kiss, but rather thought the Prince had instead pulled a stiff, princely cock out of his breeches and opening Beauty's slender white legs, shoved it up her virgin cunt and given her a good stiff fucking.

He began to shove his cock in and out of the juicy hole, stopping occasionally to admire the glistening juice which coated his prick each time be pulled it out. Slowly he began to thrust more and more cock into her, trying to keep up a steady rhythm and continuing to hold his hips apart from her. Finally, he couldn't stand it any more, and with a stifled groan pushed it up as far as he could each, his groin banging into the plump cheeks of her ass.

She awoke suddenly, gasping, bemused with sleep, a little uncertain of what was occurring.

Instinct and a deep atavistic emotion made her thrust her hips forcefully back against him.

That was all the invitation he needed, grasping her hips he held her still so that he could really shove his cock into her. He gave up any pretence of gentleness but began to fuck her hard and long, letting his cock touch her womb, pulling it out only to shove it back in again.

Her breathing was laboured and he knew that she was very close to coming. His prick was slipping in its juicy prison and occasionally would slip out and bang against her.

She made a little motion with her hips and suddenly it seemed as if her entire cunt was clinging to his prick. He was in her but with every retreat her long slit seemed to caress the length of his cock just before he shoved it back in. It, felt .as if someone was running their tongue along his prick while he was fucking her and his hips increased their movement as he felt his balls tighten.

Banging against her, his prick slipped out and momentarily lodged just the tip in her tight pink anus.

He knew now was the time. Just thinking about it almost precipitated his orgasm, but exerting an iron self-control, he admonished his unruly member to mind itself and then, determined, he reached down to take a hold of his aching prick.

Monique moved, shoving her ass back at him, seeking the hard, moist cock.

He held his prick, carefully teasing the tip between the firm cheeks of her ass, just touching the spongy head to the tight hole.

Monique quietened, then he heard her sigh.

He gave an inward smile of joy as he felt her first tentative nudges against his aching cock.

He could hear her breathing, heavy and laboured, faster now as she pushed that luscious ass against him.

Her ass was slick and wet with their mingled juices while his prick was pouring a steady stream of pre-come which made it slippery.

Reaching between their bodies, he made sure he had a firm grasp on his throbbing member.

Determined not to be swayed, he gently but insistently pushed the spongy tip of his prick, working it carefully into the tight furled hole between her cheeks.

He felt her gasp and her hips pulled away. His other hand came around and with an iron grip, held her hips steady.

She seemed to resist him, her ass tightening and attempting to expel the invader, but the tip of his prick was in and he persisted. She gave an inarticulate cry.

"No, baby." he said firmly.

"I need this. Relax."

Releasing her hip, he reached around and down, and his fingers found her distended, aroused clit. She moaned as he expertly manipulated the sweet nub, her traitorous body betraying her.

Almost helplessly, she relaxed back against him, the invading prick still secure in her tight ass. Exquisitely, slowly but inexorably, he pushed first one inch, then two into the incredibly tight hole. As he firmly pushed his prick in further, her sphincter seemed to relax and the next couple of inches of stiff, moist prick sunk in.

He paused, relishing the feel of this virgin territory and allowing her to adjust to this never-before felt sensation. She had held her breath and he had felt her body stiffen as his prick finally sank into her, now she suddenly expelled a long, lustful breath and tentatively pushed her ass against him.

His cock felt like it was in a vice. Her ass was so tight it was almost painful yet the hard hot feel was more pleasure than pain. Unlike her cunt whose folds seemed to mold and caress him, swelling about his stiff cock, the walls of her rectum were tighter, less pliable.

Slowly he pulled his prick out, wincing slightly as her ass involuntarily tightened around him.

Then back in and gasping, as his foreskin was peeled back almost painfully from the head of his cock. In and out, slowly the friction began to ease although the tightness remained.

Her cunt literally began to stream juice, almost as if she were pissing and as the warm, wet cunt juice rolled down the crack of her ass and pooled on his groin he felt like he was going to explode.

Taking a deep breath, he took both hands and grasped those delectable hips and began to pump steadily in and out. From this angle, he could see his own stiff cock sinking into that tight ass and his breath began to quicken as he watched the pale shaft appear and disappear.

Shoving his cock as far up her ass as he could, he reached forward and between her legs, to tickle her clitoris and revel in the feel of her shaven cunt. His hand was full of hot cunt and he pinched the lips and flicked her clitoris as he steadily pumped his cock in and out.

Leaning a little more forward, his balls banging on her groin as he ass fucked her with gusto, he pushed two fingers into the swollen folds of her cunt.

He felt as if his balls were up in his throat as he felt his own cock through the thin membrane separating her rectum from her vagina. He was actually able to feel the hard knobby head of his prick and the thick muscular shaft as he thrust it in and out of her asshole.

He pushed his fingers against it, rubbing up and down the shaft of his own prick and without conscious volition began to fuck in and out of her even faster.

Suddenly he felt her stiffen and there, with his fingers up her cunt, his cock up her ass, he felt her start.

Her groans disturbed the still air of the room as he suddenly felt her cunt contract. Giving an undulating cry of ecstasy, a gush of juice soaked his hand.

She yelled, and her ass slammed against his groin, taking every inch of his large prick up her tight nether hole. He felt her cunt coming then suddenly he yelled as the spasms engulfed her asshole as well. Tightening and loosening, her sweet ass began to milk his cock.

His balls tightened tugged and then with an unbelievable shudder, his cock began to spurt, come jetting from the tip of his cock in a long, hot stream. He actually felt the warmth of his own come with his fingers through the thin membrane of her cunt.

He was almost doubled over, his groin glued to her ass, his thick prick buried to the hilt, while his hand worked spasmodically between her legs, fucking his fingers up as far as they would go while the contractions pulled and sucked at them.

Pulling his slick, come soaked fingers out of her cunt, he grasped both her jerking hips and pulled her hard against him, feeling his cock deep within her, thrusting once, twice until he could feel his cock emptying and jerking. Finally, the spasmodic jerking of his cock began to still, and closing his eyes, he felt the last drops of sperm trickling into that sweet prison.

Exhausted, his cock still buried in her ass he pulled her against him, the two of them concentrating on the ebbing of an incredible orgasm.

He closed his eyes, the spent passion creating a lassitude which lasted for some time. Then as he felt his cock soften and shrink, he gently pulled his prick out of hits delectable warren. With a pop, his cock came out of its tight home and immediately following, a veritable steam of sperm poured out and soaked the sheets.

Turning her, he kissed her gently on her soft lips, then on the closed eyelids of her green eyes. She opened and blinked sleepily at him, then a grin lit up her face.

"Well, that was fun!" she said.

He grinned, happy that all had worked out the way he had planned.

This is one girl that would be getting lots of ass time in the future!.

Fellatio

2008-10-22T21:00:00.000-04:00

She falls to her knees,
patterning intricate mandela patterns on white flesh,
as she bows to Cernunnos.

Pale marbled flesh and blue veined rigidity
seduce her rebellious spirit
as glistening trails of ownership are traced across
swollen pink tips.

Hands tangle in crimson silk
urging worship of godhead,
seducing with the pungent, sweet aroma
of hidden mysteries and burgeoning demand.

Tears, pure aching worlds of acceptance,
spring forth like Brigit’s kelles
as fertile deltas, damp and fecund,
drip her acquiescence.

Throbbing need spawns insistence,
a slippery, intricate dance of aloofness
that fires a soul and kills a spirit

as she accepts yet again

her role.

Slender fingers dance an intricate waltz
across furred tracts of territory,
tickling regions heretofore unexplored,
leaving in their wake, upheaval and chaos

as

elated, she pulls into her quintessence the
reality of godhood,
in creamy ribbons of need and helpless lust.

And,
in so doing,
regains her soul.

The Drive-In

2008-10-09T14:14:00.000-04:00

Note: NOT BDSM-related - just a little erotica story about fun sex

Life has a way of getting in the way of living, which sounds absurd until four kids, demanding jobs, numerous activities, sports and the mundane realities of running a home result in you waking up one day with the realization that other than hurried couplings, the passion you shared with your partner was largely a thing of wet dreams and memories.

Aoife did just that. An odd juxtaposition of events left her unaccountably alone with absolutely nothing that must be done and an empty house.

A luxurious bath later, shaved and smoothed, buffed and polished, she sat in front of her mirror, brushing the waist length mahogany mane which minimum care and good genes ensured continued to be one of her best features.

Maybe it was having her thick waving locks hanging silkily against her fine boned face, or the unaccustomed feel of smooth, shaved legs, but Aoife suddenly remembered what it was like when she and Finn had first met. Sparks had flown the moment the two had seen each other; introduced by a former boyfriend, Aoife found herself unaccountably breathless on meeting the shortish, well-built Scot. There was something about the way his green eyes, narrow and intense met her own, the manner in which the thick fair hair tumbled around the craggy, strong face with its decided nose and stubborn jaw. For his part, the long limbed goddess with the magnificent hair and intense blue green eyes completely and utterly enthralled him.

A scant hour later, the two left the party together, hand in hand, to continue their conversation in a less raucous atmosphere. Within weeks they were inseparable, and much of their time was spent engaged in a tangle of lust for each other that permeated their every waking moment and made them the horrified envy of friends who were alternatively appalled and envious of the way the two lovers could not keep their hands off each other.

Now 15 years and 4 kids later, Aoife had to think hard to remember when they had last experienced that spontaneous, joyous and overwhelming lust that used to be as natural as breathing.

Standing up, she inspected herself critically. With the exception of a few lines that added character to her face, her skin was excellent and belied her 42 years. Cupping her heavy breasts, she turned sideways. Most definitely not quite as firm or as high as they used to be, but nonetheless they were still more or less where they should be and the nipples were as large and luscious as ever. Her belly had a hint of softness, the legacy of four pregnancies but her narrow hips and long, very beautiful legs were still exceptional as vanity and a desire to stay healthy had her biking regularly and for long periods.

"Well, things are going to change – we need to rediscover each other," she decided then and there.

That day, Aoife began her campaign to seduce her husband. She began to rediscover the little things which he liked – like picking up the coffee he preferred, ensuring his mobile phone had minutes, and more importantly, making sure the two of them made a conscious effort to spend more time together without children.

Trips to the bookstore – a former favourite haunt – did much to help the two reconnect. Without the distractions of kids and mundane tasks, they learned again the fascination that the other held for them. Finn rediscovered his great appreciation for his wife's lively intelligence and it wasn't long before they fell back into their old stimulating argumentative debates.

Lovemaking became more than perfunctory, slowly but surely. Instead of hurried couplings, where Finn would push his stiff prick against the flannel-covered bottom of his darling and then merely pull up the hem to push its hard length between her taut thighs, he began to approach lovemaking from a more leisurely perspective.

Teasing and tender, he would strip off the nightie and cup the full, heavy breasts, suckling the long firm nipples for long periods, his prick stiff against her belly, its winking eye leaking pre-cum, until unable to stand it any longer she would thrust against him, sighing as his long thick length slid up into her sheath.

Slow and leisurely, his lips suckling the swollen breast, Finn would push his prick in and out of her tight cunt, measuring the pleasure in long delicious strokes, savouring the feel of her hot swollen folds engulfing his throbbing cock until suddenly, the urgency would begin to build and moaning against the mouthful of heavy breast, he would thrust fast and strong until his prick would throb and jerk and empty long hot streams of cum into her pulsating cunt.

Things in short improved considerably.

Aoife, however, as much as she was enjoying their renewed concupiscence, still yearned for something really spontaneous, something really sexual. Her opportunity came sooner than she anticipated when grandparents swooped down to take the kids to a cottage for a week and concurrent with that she came across an advertisement in a local newspaper which piqued her interest.

Aoife planned her campaign. Telling Finn to make no plans on the Saturday night, she informed him a surprise was in store.

A shopping spree for clothes and other things and she was ready.

Finn was out most of the day on his endless quest for treasures in garage sales, leaving Aoife time to polish herself head to foot and leisure to dress. Unaccountably nervous, she inspected herself in the mirror – wondering for the millionth time whether she was too old for dressing like this.

A very tight low-necked sleeveless tee hugged and moulded the heavy breasts. Her large nipples were clearly outlined under the skimpy lace that barely cupped their bounty and when she walked, the fluid movement of largely unfettered heavy breast flesh was clearly provocative and enticing. The skirt was denim, short and flirty, hugging her narrow hips and flaring to just midpoint on the long toned thighs. If she bent over, the firm, plump cheeks of her ass could be seen, pale and luscious, her plump mound, its reddish curls trimmed and combed cupped in the skimpy protection of a thong.

A moment later, her husband soothed her unspoken fears, when chattering; he banged into the bedroom, treasures in hand.

"HOLY shit!"

Finn's mouth hung open as he took in the sight of his very sexy wife. From the tip of her magnificent hair which hung burnished and smooth to her waist to the long gorgeous legs, the shapely calves flexed from the pressure of 4-inch heels, she was stunning.

"Oh baby!"

Moving to her, Finn pulled her head down towards his own, tangling eager fingers in soft silken waves. One hand went up to cup and squeeze the full breast.

Laughing, breathless, Aoife pulled back.

"Come on, you! Have your shower – this isn't the surprise! Get ready!"

Grinning, she dodged her amorous husband's eager hands and shooed him into the shower.

An hour later, the waning sun to the west sending warm tendrils of dying light to streak and brighten the creeping dusk, they were on their way.

Aoife drove carefully but rapidly, the dark highway speeding past on either side of the car. It was as if they were cocooned in their own private world, caught in a warp of time and space. The air conditioning blew cool against her almost naked breasts, creating an aching awareness of her vulnerability and openness to him as he sat gazing at her. Between her legs, her cunt throbbed.

The car, an old Lincoln bequeathed by Finn's grandparents, was roomy and comfortable – if exorbitantly expensive in gas. But the leather seats, luxurious interior, superior stereo and best of all, superlative engine made up for what it cost at the pump.

Finn sat sideways, watching her mobile face as she drove. Grinning, he reached over and cupped a firm breast, weighing its luscious bounty in a hot palm.

"Finn!" Aoife grinned, feeling a thrill of daring as her bold husband fondled her breast openly.

"Pull up your shirt," he said coaxingly.

"FINN! Are you nuts? It's still bloody light out!" she laughed.

"Please darling, do – for me?"

Aoife looked around – there was something about driving in a car, cupped in a speeding metal capsule, the road flashing by, affording quick glimpses into other people's universes as they sped by that gave her a sense of freedom.

"After all," she reasoned, "it's not as if anyone will ever see us again!"

A bit nervously, she reached down to the waist of her tight tee – grasping the end she slowly pulled it up over her taut midriff. Teasingly, Aoife tugged until the heavy, lace cupped underhang of her full breasts was visible.

"More, sweet one, more." Finn said, his voice tight.

There was something intensely provocative about seeing his wife's pale belly, the heavy jut of breast in an open car in broad daylight. A part of him almost wanted someone to see her – to lust after that bounty of overflowing breast flesh – to look at him and envy him this woman.

Glancing at him, one hand on the wheel, Aoife honoured her husband's request.

Slowly, she pulled the shirt higher, tugging it over the tip of pale, freckled breasts. The bra was scant, barely containing the swelling mounds; the tip of her shell pink areoles visible.

Aoife's breasts were obscenely obvious as the tight tee pushed her breasts out even further.

Finn's breath came short as she watched her expose her breasts to his gaze. Leaning over, he ran a calloused finger between the swollen globes, pushing into the tight cleavage and rubbing gently.

Aoife groaned. Her breasts were remarkably sensitive, within a second, the long, plump nipples hardened, and lengthened, pushing out the thin lace of the underwire bra.

Grinning, Finn ran his hands down and over the tips – feeling his prick jump as he saw her face tighten, the green eyes cloud.

Reaching under, he pushed his fingers under the tight underwire and pulled it up and out with some difficulty.

"Oh you bitch, you are so fucking gorgeous!" he breathed as the heavy white breasts tumbled out of the tight confines.

Aoife's nipples were already erect and throbbing, their long plump length elongated, their normal shell pink colour deep and crimson. The bra, still fastened, was tight and dug into the long sloping top of the breasts, pushing them out and making them appear even firmer. Although Aoife's breasts weren't bad for 42, she had miserably failed the infamous pencil test she had once passed with flying colours. Four pregnancies and breastfeeding for the better part of 7 years had stretched and softened their shape, although admittedly Finn had never complained.

Finn slit his eyes as he reached over and pushed his fingers underneath the heavy weight. He had told her repeatedly but wasn't sure if she believed him, that he actually preferred these mature, lovely breasts. They were softer, more pliable, their warm mass comforting and unbelievably erotic.

Reverently, Finn cupped and then squeezed the warm mass, his fingers wandering over the sweet, soft skin to the rubbery, throbbing nipples. He knew his wife's weaknesses and ginning, pinched sharply.

"Oh fuck!" Aoife almost screamed. Struggling, she tried to keep her concentration on the road. She had, she believed, a direct line from her breasts to her womb and right now, she felt a gush from between her plump lips that soaked the thin gusset of her thong.

Finn smiled delightedly– he knew exactly what he was doing. Leaning over, he put his other hand on the long slender thigh. Aoife's skirt was hiked up, the long legs slightly spread, her right one taut as she kept a foot on the gas.

He relished the feel of the soft warm skin, then snaked his hand between her legs, ignoring the inarticulate noises she made in protest. Sighing, he took his fingers and rubbed them lightly against the damp gusset, breathing deeply the musky aroma that suddenly wafted into the still, cool air of the car.

"Keep your eye on the road," he said semi-sternly.

Aoife spared a quick glance. Helplessly, she allowed her thigh to relax and sprawl slightly open, giving her husband access to her most secret place.

Stiffening a finger, his hand pinching and cupping the heavy breast, Finn wiggled his finger under the thin line of silk, brushing damp curls as he did so. He sighed as his questing finger rubbed lightly the plump, furred pubes, then nestling between the swollen labia. Very, very gently, he ran his finger the long length of his wife's slit, barely tipping the tight furled ass as she pushed her hips forward against his bold, welcome intrusion. Then back up, his finger wet now with the juices which were beginning to drip out of the swollen cunt, right up to the tiny, shy clitoris which was just beginning to wake up. Barely touching, he flicked its sensitive tip.

Aoife groaned and rewarded him with a hot gush which actually soaked his finger and trailed wet tendrils of glistening moisture to the crux of his fingers.

Finn sighed and moved uncomfortably. Removing his fingers, he pushed his hips up and thrust his hand down his pants, adjusting his burgeoning prick which was now uncomfortably twisted.

Aoife grinned as she took a quick glance and watched her husband try to fix himself.

"Serves you right!" she said jeering.

Dusk was beginning to fall. A muted light permeated the green fields, intensifying the verdant wilderness flashing by. That peculiar golden glow of a summer evening lent a muted ambiance to skies deepening to indigo, streaks of crimson and deep violet washing the waning sun.

A sign flashed by, capturing her attention..

"That's our exit!" she said.

"We're almost there! We'll finish THIS..." she said with a grin, grimacing as she pulled the tight bra back over her jiggling breasts, wiggling their heavy fullness into place, "LATER". Then, quickly, as traffic increased, she pulled the tee over the lace.

Lifting her ass, she went to pull her skirt down. Finn's hand stopped her for a moment. Fondling the shivering breasts, he left her skirt pulled up to her waist for a moment longer, then reaching between her legs, pushed his fingers up her wet, glistening cunt, leaving them there as she continued to drive. Aoife felt as if she were attached not just physically — his fingers actually in her cunt — but mentally. She felt breathless and almost panicked as she visualized pulling up and someone looking down and seeing her naked cunt with his fingers inserted in it. Then voluptuously, he pulled them out slowly, glistening with the sticky residue of her arousal. She caught his eye as he brought them to his face. He drank in the scent as if it were ambrosia, relishing the rich, musky smell of her essence, then keeping eye contact with her, he delicately put his tongue out and thoroughly licked each finger clean.

Aoife slowed the car and turned. Looking around, Finn laughed delightedly on seeing the Drive In sign. They waited in the line entering the park, the atmosphere in the car almost alive. She could smell not just herself but that private, funky scent which rose from him when his cock was stiff and the love juice dribbled and scented his pants.

They soon got to the kiosk and paying, she pulled onto the gravel lot. Aoife went to pull into a space towards the front, but looking around, Finn directed her to the back. A well-wooded copse of trees stood at the back of the park and at the far left there were spaces for many cars but none were parked there. He had her pull up so the woods backed them and in front a large space remained before the next line of cars. The park was sparsely populated, the day of the Drive In long past. In fact, this particular one she had heard about by chance and it was in its last days before a development took over.

The movie had already started but neither of them paid much attention. There was an unspoken realization between them that the movie was secondary, that what they were here for was not celluloid dreams on a big screen but a delicious, chance met opportunity to indulge themselves.

Aoife felt her throat tighten as she threw the car into park and fastened the speaker to the window. Out of the corner of her eye, she took in the sight of her husband's taut groin, his heavy prick tenting the front of his jeans .

All day she had been anticipating this night, being in this car alone with him. She had trimmed and scented her cunt at home, slathered her wonderful crème over her entire body, paying special attention to the inside of her thighs and her breasts.

Looking at each other, they reached down and pulled the levers, pushing the seats back as far as it would go, then, reaching into the back, Aoife pulled out the cooler. From within its chilled depth, she pulled pate, crackers, cheese and shrimp. From behind the seat she pulled a thermos full of aromatic, strong espresso and two small china cups.

Prolonging the moment, allowing anticipation to build, they shared and fed each other and laughed and feasted. Aoife sipped her hot, dark coffee, enjoying the rush of caffeine and for once not worrying about being kept awake. Indeed, she had made is doubly strong to ensure that they were both alert and full of energy for this precious night.

Fin gathered up the remains of their feast and putting them back in the cooler, placed it in the back. Then looking at her, his eyes crystal in the ambient light, he reached over and clasped her breast through her shirt.

Aoife gasped and felt a hot sensuous flash of lust race from her cunt to her breasts.

"Push it up so I can see your tits," he said quietly.

Oblivious to the people who occasionally walked by, she did so, pulling up the shirt then reaching underneath and pushing her scanty bra over the quivering mounds of her breasts. Their heavy weight settled slightly, jiggling on her chest, the tips already red, engorged, and stiff.

"Now your skirt."

Moving her ass, Aoife pulled the skirt up over the plump globes of her ass, bunching it at her waist and revealing the insubstantial scrap of material which made up her thong.

Finn pushed her back against the door of the car, pulling her legs apart so he could look at the thin gusset of the thong disappear between the lips of her cunt. Her right leg was awkwardly placed, so reaching, Finn took the long silken calf, rubbing hard fingers along its sweet swelling length and then pulled her leg up to dangle over the back of the seat.

"Spread wider, darling," he whispered, "I want to see your slit."

Flickering images on the screen illuminated and sent an ambient light into the dark car, moonlight tendrils lending a further cool glow.

Aoife hesitated, then biting her lip, feeling an aching deep within her womb and a wantonness that made her swollen breasts heave, pulled her other knee up to her chest. Watching his face intently, she allowed her legs to fall open.

Finn almost forgot to breathe. She looked unbelievably erotic, those long gorgeous legs spread sluttily, the big heavy breasts jiggling with her ragged breathing, their long succulent tips engorged and crimson.

The gusset of the thong was barely a string, running between the swollen, neatly trimmed but thickly furred cunt. As she widened her thighs, her long slit gaped open, a red glistening gash, hot woman scent perfuming the air as her arousal increased.

Aoife's eyes raked his beloved face, drinking in and responding to the raw lust which twisted his features.

"You like?" she asked huskily.

"Watch."

Taking her hands, Aoife reached between her spread thighs and lightly rubbed her swollen sex. Delicately, she pinched first one side, then the other and fastening her gaze on him, pulled apart her labia, exposing the now erect and quivering clit and the deep swollen folds of her vagina.

Breathing harshly, Finn leaned over. Gently, but firmly he took the insubstantial scrap of underwear and holding it in two hands, suddenly pulled, ripping its delicate lace asunder.

Aoife gasped as he pulled the scrap of destroyed underwear from between her thighs, the thin gusset wet and dark with her arousal. Pulling it to him, he used both hands and brought it to his nose, and took a deep, cleansing breath, groaning as the rich, pongy scent of her cunt wafted into his senses. Putting out his tongue, he flicked it along the glistening gusset, tasting a mixture of arousal, a scent of urine and warm woman scents

Then throwing it to one side, he leaned down to study her slit up close.

Aoife had a lovely cunt. He had thought so 15 years ago and he thought so now. Slightly scarred from childbirth, nonetheless her labia were plump, thickly furred with soft tight lovely sherry coloured curls. Her clit, when quiescent, was a tiny shy little soldier, hidden under the sweet pale hood but now, aroused and glistening, it poked a bold swollen head from betwixt the tight vee where her cunt began. The swirls and whorls of soft, firm flesh drew the eye, tendrils of glistening arousal pooling in translucent pools in its delicious nooks and crannies. Finn's breath grew short as his gaze slowly swept down to the deep, swollen apex of her womanhood. Unable to resist, he stiffened his fingers and slowly, exquisitely, pushed their stiff length into the swollen folds.

Aoife groaned deep in her throat, breasts quivering, as her husband sunk his fingers deep within her essence. Finn felt her clinging flesh envelop his digits and marvelled anew that this delicious, swollen, clinging cunt had birthed his children, and been the recipient of so many hot molten libations from his spurting prick.

Yoga and a passionate commitment to daily kegels had kept Aoife as tight as a young girl. Now, eyes heavy lidded and glistening from beneath lowered lids, she gave a wicked hot smile and Finn gasped as her hot cunt squeezed his invading fingers.

Finn realized that his prick, heavy and aching was almost painfully constricted by his pants.

With an audible sucking sound, he pulled his fingers free. Leaning back, he caught his wife's hot gaze and narrowing his own intense green eyes, captured her sultry gaze with his own. Keeping her enthralled, he brought his glistening fingers to his nose, breathing deeply. Flecks of pale white dotted their glistening length and flicking out his tongue, he delicately lapped up the aroused essence of his girl.

Aoife sighed as another gush of arousal trickled from the swollen folds of her vagina.

Finn leaned back, pushing his tented, straining pants into proximity. Slowly, he reached down, Aoife's gaze following the questing hands and carefully unbuttoned, then pushing his swollen prick against his groin, unzipped. Finn's thighs tightened as he pushed his ass off the car seat, and carefully peeled the tight jeans down the strong thighs. Cotton boxers, normally loose strained on his hips, his prick pushing its heavy length up and out. A dark wet stain trailed across the front as precum leaked in a steady stream from the winking tip of his prick.

"You want to see my cock, lass?"

Aoife, mute, nodded vigorously.

"Tell me, then, sweet one, tell your Finn what you want."

"I want to see it – your prick..." Aoife's voice was hoarse.

"This, this is what you want, sweet lassie mine?"

In a quick motion, Finn stripped the boxers down his hips. Freed, his heavy erection sprang up, throbbing and swollen, the hooded head glistening and a long translucent thread of pre cum trailing from the swollen tip to the furred flesh of his stomach.

"Oh GOD."

Aoife couldn't help herself. Reaching between her spread legs, she touched her own swollen aching clit, running a trimmed nail along its length. Her hips jerked as sensation flooded her groin.

"Yes, that's it, my little bitch, Finn's little slut – touch yourself," he crooned, his own hand grasping and pulling at his own aching cock.

His eyes glittered with barely suppressed lust as he watched his wife rub herself, a finger dipping into the swollen folds of her vagina, then dancing up the long swollen slit to the beckoning clit. A flick then back down again. Her other hand, almost of its own volition, cupped one heavy, heaving breast, pinching and pulling the rubbery distended nipple.

"That's my girl, touch that pretty cunt, rub it."

Grasping his own prick tightly at the base, Finn squeezed sharply. He could feel his arousal peaking and wanted to keep things going longer. His balls were tight and pulled up into his groin and he couldn't resist rubbing a calloused finger along their plump, hairy sac.

Then suddenly, Finn thrust himself up, kneeling on the seat in front of his spraddled darling. With a thunk, his head hit the roof.

Aoife snorted, trying to suppress her laughter. Then helplessly, as she watched her husband rub his sore head, laughed out loud.

"Bitch." Finn said grinning.

His prick, obscenely swollen and bright crimson bobbed in front of Aoife's face, a translucent bubble of precum bubbling from the hooded tip. Aoife suddenly smelled it, sharp and male and her laughter strangled in her throat.

Aoife couldn't resist. Leaning forward she breathed the strong, aroused male scent, filling her lungs with its essence. Then, slowly, her eyes flicking up to watch his face, she extended a pink tongue until delicate as a butterfly, she began to lap at the glistening tip, her tongue cupping and pulling the viscous fluid into her eager mouth.

Rounding her small lips, she brought her right hand around to cup her husband's firm buttocks; her left she used to grasp the heavy prick at its base. Taking a deep breath, closing her eyes, she stretched her lips as wide as they would go, pushing it down on the swollen head of her husband's cock.

Smoothly, experienced and eager, Aoife's warm tongue laved the quivering, silken skin of his prick. Her cheeks hollowed as she pulled strongly from the back of her throat, sinking her mouth further down, breathing harshly through her flared nostrils as her mouth filled with hot, swollen prick.

Finn stifled a yell as he felt his prick pulled strongly, his wife's suctioning mouth causing an exquisite, almost painful intensity of tactile overload. His breath was harsh in the close confines of the car. Outside, the flickering screen waxed light, then dark, static crackled and spat as tinny dialogue from the scarred and battered speaker droned in the background.

Realty was now, this exquisite pulling ecstasy of his wife's warm, sucking mouth.

He felt his balls tighten, the roiling sperm gathering in their swollen flesh. Reluctantly, groaning, he pulled back.

Aoife made an inarticulate sound of distress, her mouth clinging. Fin reached and gently grasping her chin, shook it, laughing, forcing her to release her delicious mouthful of hot cock.

Leaning,, he captured her lips with his in a long, clinging kiss, his tongue laving the inside of the warm mouth, tasting himself on her breath.

Then falling back, he looked at her with glazed eyes.

"Keep that up, lass, and there won't be a thing left for you!" he said in a strangled voice.

"Well, now that would be a shame," she admitted.

"Was a time, though," she pointed out, mocking a sad face, "that I could get my mouthful and you would be good to go shortly after!"

Finn grinned back and leaning over tweaked the long, engorged nipple, making her squeak.

"Sure, and I'm an old man, now, lass!" he said mournfully, his green eyes laughing. "You'll be out looking for a young lad the minute me back's turned, if I'm not mistaken!"

Aoife's face softened. Leaning to him, she caressed his chin with her soft hand.

"Be a cold day in hell before I find another laddie I like half as much," she said fondly.

"Now, let's see how this fella is doing."

Aoife leaned on her arms, the lovely, heavy breasts swinging forward, jiggling enticingly, their long nipples almost brushing the swollen tip of Finn's prick. Finn's mouth twisted as he watched her, then reaching, he grasped is own prick and began to slowly pull at it.

Aoife could see the juice dribbling out of the small eye at the top. As Finn pushed the skin of his prick down over the hard muscle, the mushroom head, glistening and flushed would appear, then as he pushed the skin back up, the juice which was trembling at the tip would well out and over and dribble down the side of the hard white shaft.

She actually felt her cunt throb as she drank in the sight and her cunt hole literally seemed on fire, aching with a deep desperate need to feel that big cock right up her.

Aoife's breath was harsh in the confines of the warm car. Musk, pungent and rich, wafted through the still air, filling their sense with atavistic desire and a primitive urge to couple that almost overwhelmed.

"I want that up me ... now!" she said huskily.

"Please, darling, push your prick up me!"

Aoife's voice was harsh and panting, her desire palpable. Finn responded, his own desire throbbing and growing as his glistening gaze watched pure lust twist his beloved's face. Her breasts, swollen and pale, blue veins beneath their white surface, seemed to glow, pale and delicious in the encroaching darkness. Her nipples looked almost sore, engorged and a bright crimson, while the smell of her cunt's rich dampness permeated the air.

Finn sat back against the seat, pushing Aoife gently to give him some room. Bracing his legs, he adjusted his swollen balls comfortably, the hard white shaft of his prick engorged and swollen, trembling and throbbing between his thick thighs.

Turning slightly, he pulled Aoife to him, his lips meeting hers in a clinging, deep kiss that sent tendrils of desire twisting through her abdomen. One hand cupped and squeezed one of the jouncing breasts. Then moving his hands to the narrow hips he pulled her over him, so she straddled his lap, her swollen glistening cunt just inches above the yearning prick.

Now she felt the spongy tip of his cock pushing at her yearning cunt and moving restlessly, tried to rub her enflamed cunt on it. Holding her hips in an iron grip he would not allow her to impale herself on the delicious length of his cock, but kept her kneeling high enough so that he could rub his prick along the long slit.

She was already soaking wet and his prick slipped easily along the length of her cunt from her ass to her cleft. Rhythmically he rubbed his cock up and down, paying special attention to the small, stiff nub of her enflamed clitoris.

Then just when she thought she would go mad, he took her hips firmly and in one smooth motion impaled her.

Aoife groaned, feeling as if she was going to die as she felt his entire long hard cock push up into her womb. His girth strained her cunt hole to its maximum, pushing aside the enveloping folds of hot swollen flesh with ease, oiled as it was with her cunt juice. He pushed her down even further and she gasped, as he impossibly seemed to surge further than he had ever been before.

She actually felt her vulva strike his hard groin and his pubic hair tickled her own swollen pube in an indescribable sensation of engorgement.

Without being aware of it, lust clouding her mind, she went to pull up, the better to feel that wonderful thrust again. His strong hands stopped her and he remained still, the whole length of his hard cock embedded in her, savouring the feeling of hot juicy cunt squeezing his entire prick.

She closed her eyes, sensation clouding her senses, feeling almost overwhelmed by the wonderful, aching fullness of her womb. She felt his hands shift, and then gentle as a butterfly's wing, one hand caressed her face.

She opened her eyes, looking deeply into the green depths of his compelling gaze.

"Fuck me with your cunt." he said.

She went to shift her hips but his hands again came down hard on her hips.

"No", you can't move." he said.

She widened her eyes, then suddenly understood what he wanted.

She closed her eyes and concentrated. She visualized his big stiff cock and imagined how it looked right this moment. Its normally pale white shaft, flushed and engorged with blood had penetrated as far as it could enter. Its entire length was now embedded in her innermost being. She literally could feel her cunt pulsating around its hard length, her soft pliable folds gently sucking and caressing the stiff welcome invader, her juice lubricating and flowing and seeking egress.

She visualized then the concentric rings of muscles which encircled her entire cunt hole, then biting her lip she began to bear down. He gasped. Her warm pulsating cunt seemed to be seizing and squeezing his prick, sucking at the spongy head and encircling the full girth of its length, as if somehow, a hand was inside her cunt, encircling it, squeezing and releasing and squeezing and releasing.

Amazingly, she felt his cock pulsate and grow yet again. She felt stuffed full of hard cock, her cunt hole strained to the utmost, it was like giving birth except with a painful, exquisite edge to the pain that caused the sensation in her groin to become almost unbearable.

She opened her eyes and drank in the sight of his contorted face. His eyes were closed and an intent focus twisted his beautiful mouth in a grimace. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead and his teeth were clenched tight.

Moaning, she couldn't stop her hips from swivelling. There was an atavistic need to grind her cunt onto the stiff prick embedded in its soft folds, to pull and push and thrust and coax the life giving juice from his prick.

He pushed her hips down again, controlling her movements, commanding her obedience. She groaned in frustrated agony, then gave a cry of fierce joy as he suddenly pulled her up, off that delicious cock, then down, then up.

Her breasts were jiggling and bobbing in front of his face, their stiff red nipples bouncing. Taking one hand off her waist, he suddenly reached up and cupped a hot swollen tit.

Grasping it almost cruelly, moulding and fondling the soft mound, he leaned forward and caught her yearning nipple in his mouth. He sucked fiercely at her nipple, suckling it like a baby, his lips clamped on the pink areole, the sensitive tip alternately flicked with his soft tongue and left to point down his throat.

She surged forward, thrusting more of her breast into his mouth. She closed her eyes in ecstasy, revelling in the suckling of her tit and yearning for that indescribable sensation of letting down milk that she had experienced when suckling the children. It was as if her nipple was a tiny penis and she longed for it to spurt into his mouth as his cock would spurt into her cunt. The harder he sucked, the more she felt her cunt contract against the welcome invader which now thrust inexorably into it. It was as if there was a live nerve extending from the tip of her breast to her cunt. With each hard, demanding suckle she felt a gush of juice release from somewhere deep inside her womb, coating his cock with thick, sticky liquid, smoothing the friction and giving his stiff moist prick even greater entry into her cunt.

Her groin felt like it was going to explode, and without conscious volition, her hips began to pump madly down on the stiff cock of her lover. Up and down she thrust herself, desperate to bring to culmination the almost painful constriction of her cunt, the great aching need that seemed to grow with each hard thrust. Each time she rose, Aoife rocked slightly forward and back, allowing her clit to rub against the swollen prick.

Finn let go of her hips entirely and brought his hand up to the other bouncing, jiggling tit. First softly and then harder, he began to mould the soft, plump breast, his mouth never letting up its hard, erotic suckling of its partner. Gasping, she moaned, harder, harder and his fingers grasped harder, squeezing and cupping and pinching until pink finger marks left marks on the soft, sensitive skin of her breast and her nipple turned bright crimson, swollen and hard.

Then she felt it start, like a wave it began deep in her belly, ripples which began at the tip of her womb and began to spread in concentric circles down the length of her vagina. She literally screamed as her orgasm crashed in on her, forgetting to breathe, forgetting to move, but pushing herself down on the hot cock, ensuring that every single available inch of prick was shoved as far up her as she could physically manage, feeling it thrusting almost painfully against her womb.

Around the overflowing bounty of the flesh of her breast, she felt him moan as he felt the contractions squeeze his prick. His own hips began to push harder into her in a fast, helpless rhythm and then, with the peak of her orgasm just starting, she felt him explode.

It was like liquid gold flung against her womb. She could actually feel each individual spurt against her innermost recesses and his mouth on her breast suckled even harder. He took both hands and desperately grasped the soft breast, squeezing it tightly, moulding its firmness and pushed it together so he could suck in even more of the tit flesh. He sucked harder, moaning around its soft flesh, mimicking the jerking motion of his cock as it emptied its bounty into her cunt, his hips jerking and pounding against the enveloping cunt.

It seemed to go on forever, the two of them meshed in a lustful, joyful mingling of flesh and sensation, he in her, his prick jerking and spurting, she opening and expanding like a great flower, sucking in the very essence of his flesh and bursting into great wonderful blooms of pure pleasure.

As the contractions in her womb began to subside she became aware that the cock thrusting so mightily into her had quietened. Collapsing against him she laid her head on his shoulders, relishing the sticky residue she could feel gluing them together between her straddled legs. She couldn't bear to let go yet, and wiggled her bottom down to ensure the softening prick remained up her cunt.

His arms went about her, pulling her close, hugging her and the two of them rested. A staccato of noise startled both of them as they almost dozed off ..and jerking up, Aoife felt her husband's prick slip out. A long warm stream of cum streamed out, wetting Finn's thighs and soaking her red curls.

Grinning, she rubbed her soaking crotch against his now soft prick, pushing her still swollen slit against its soft, wet length.

Leaning, Finn captured his darling's lips with his own in a long, deep kiss that sealed yet again their delight and commitment to each other. His heart soared and met hers as he realized anew how lucky they were.

Lights flared, startling them and Aoife scrambled to one side, pulling herself together. Looking out they watched as some cars began to leave the park. On the large, bug splattered drive-in screen a dancing hot dog and box of French fries amused the remaining crowd, many of whom took the reprieve between films to grab food or relieve themselves.

Looking over, Finn grinned.

"Lovely film! I don't think I've ever enjoyed one so much!"

"Damn right!" Aoife said laughing. "Just give me a few minutes and I'll get us coffee and a bit of something sweet to strengthen us."

Winking, she pulled her skirt down, adjusted her tee shirt and leaning over and pecking his lips, opened the car door.

Pausing, Aoife turned back for a moment. With a mischievous grin, she said to her husband:

"By the way, sweetheart, tonight is a 'Dusk til Dawn'

Incubus

2008-09-29T11:26:00.000-04:00

Note: (I've posted this story before, but not on this story blog - Poem is by f-cynyr - Incubus - story is mine)

The moon reels in a wine-dark sky and the constellation of stars fades before its silver dominance. A whisper of cool breath and the moon breathes into the night and probes silver fingers and feels through the night for dark moments and realities of time and place.

She lies sprawled, her alabaster body relaxed against the soft embrace of Indian cotton, arms upstretched and relaxed, hips slightly twisted, the long legs lying closed. The moon probes through the fluttering of pale curtains, exhaling into the intimacy of the room and on its cool hoary breath rides something made of silver and shadows and hot red moments of lust.

She moves, restlessly on the bed, and the silver fingers of the moon pick out the sweet curve of breast, silvering the plump pale nipple and licking curves of shadows into the sweep of waist and arc of hip.

Dappled shadows drift in gossamer strands of maybe across the perhaps of hot green eyes which savour the creamy flesh and warmth of the girl on the bed, glowing against the strong line of jaw and the reality of hard flesh.

He slips onto the bed, quiet and as light as a cat and gently moves a curve of tumbled crimson silk from her pale face and the silver moonbeam tumbles her curls into darkness against the shadows.

Her breathing is even and shallow and her sweet breath exhales through half parted lips. The silver of the night shows the fluttering beneath translucent delicate eyelids and he leans and his long firm lips breathe above her breath until in unison they inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale and her restless body quiets and she tumbles into the inky darkness and deep inside herself watches the moon reeling in a wine-dark sky.

Gently, delicate as the brush of butterfly wings, his lips meet hers and they cling and she breathes acquiescence into his warm mouth and the silver light seems to dance through his pale flesh and cast shadows of questions against the smooth curve of back and kisses the strong curve of buttock.

He trails moist soft breath down the long curve of neck as she sighs and settles against the cotton sheet, her head tipped back exposing the fluttering of breath in her vulnerable throat. He watches the blood race beneath the delicate skin and with his mouth traces the subtle blue tracery of veins along the throat, down over the sweet curve of collarbone to the impossibly soft flesh of her breast.

He sits back, and reaches out his hand and sighing, cups the warm reality of plump flesh and gently squeezes one round breast which swells against the skin of his palm and throbs and he watches the plump pale nipples tighten and swell and he sighs. Silver seeps between the shadowed edge of the curtains fluttering in the breath of the moon which reels in the sky and watches.

A sliver of silver seeps
between the shadowed edges
of blind and window,
silvering your
round, heaving breasts
as I fondle and
toy with an engorged nipple.

He releases his delicious handful and gently toys with the swollen tips, twisting and pulling until, engorged and now a deep, blood-red crimson they seem to yearn toward his hand. Her breath quickens and a soft moan resonates in the quiet of the cool room.

He squats, graceful and sure on strong legs and feet, and sighs as the moon licks along the curve of buttock and a glistening beam illuminates the long thick distended phallus, the tip swollen and glistening as pale, translucent drops of lust well up from the winking tip, swelling, glowing then trail down the quivering shaft.

His fingers play a symphony upon the girl’s engorged breasts, pinching harder now and pull the long hard tips and rolling them in clever fingers until her breath comes short and her chest heaves and he watches as her eyes flutter frantically beneath closed lids and her hips move restlessly. He cups in both hands the small, plump orbs and squeezes and releases until the indentation of finger can be seen like bruises on their smooth pale surface and he smiles.

I lay awake in this
silver
glow of night and
watch as
you rustle and twist
in your passion,
as your tormented
body is drawn
to my sliding
hands and probing
fingers.

She moves her legs restlessly and the moon caresses the long line of his back and he moves silently to the edge and allows the moon to probe between the long, firm thighs and she sighs. Her legs fall open slightly and the moon licks glistening trails of light along the long smooth slit and the silver rings gleam in the pattern of shadows and light and he slips lithely between the slightly parted thighs, his fingers drumming a soft Mandela on their smooth delicate inner skin until they part wider and he settles between them, not touching with flesh but his gaze as substantial as touch caressing and licking the slighting gaping smooth sex, hint of deep pink and promise of mystery now open to his eyes.

In the silent, shrouded
house,
you moan and whimper
in your aroused, thin
sleep;
your thighs dream of me,
of my hands and mouth and body,
as your pelvis tilts with
wishes of lust and
wet throbbing hope.

He reaches and runs a finger up over the smooth mound of stomach, dipping into the hollow of hip and along the achingly sweet dip where hip meets smooth thigh and with his palm, cups the plump mound of her sex.

She moves restlessly in her deep unconsciousness and the narrow hips tilt and he watches as the long slit swells and the blood flushes beneath the pale flesh and the moonlight glistens on the silver rings which bracket the top of the deep vee of her sex. Leaning, his eyes probe and then narrow as he sees the small, plump pink clitoris peeking from between the tight lips. Breathing warm breath, his tongue flicks out and barely flicks its sensitive head and her hips jerk ….

He breathes deep, pulling in the unique scent that is only hers, vanilla and almond and the sweet, astringent perfume of natural fluids and exhales his lust along the length of her from the delicate rings to the sweet indentation of her secret place. Her body twitches and moves restlessly and like a breath, her moan trails through the dappled silver light and shadows of the room. Her long legs fall open wider and her hips tilt and she pushes her swollen sex onto his lips.

Light dances along the curve of his back and a moonbeam sighs along the swollen length of his prick, its cool fingers brushing gossamer tremors of sensation along the tender, delicate skin of his shaft. He sighs and his hot green gaze devours the opening of her sex to him and his breath quickens as he watches the deep pink of her inner lips unfurl and glisten as moisture seeps from her inner self and trails glistening paths of want. His tongue tastes her delicately, lapping at the translucent glistening moisture and pulling it deep in his mouth and his tongue dances along the intricacy of her woman’s sex and probes and licks until the sweet hot musk of her tightens something deep inside.

Outside the world spins and the moon reels in the reality of time which triumphs over even its will and moves lower in the horizon. Silver moonbeams slither through the fluttering curtains and dapple a heaving back with light and shadow and illuminate the girl’s glistening, swollen sex.

Your eyes rapidly
dance under frail lids,
as you push your wet
dream against me
and I, stiff and inflamed,
enter you and your fantasy.
You moan and expel
a breath in the midst of
undulating blankets as
the aroma of musk
rises.

Insubstantial in the dance of shadow and light he holds himself over her on strong arms, not touching the trembling, shivering flesh beneath him and probing only with the hot swollen prick he runs himself luxuriously up and down the long swollen slit, the engorged tip of him leaking a viscous translucent fluid, mixing and mingling with the fragrant juices which are welling up from deep within her.

His breath is hot in the cloying, delicious musk of the room and his hips move restlessly and he probes and feels the sweet indentation and pushes and exhales hot lust as the hot swollen head, slippery with his secretions pushes the hot clinging folds of her apart and thrusts. His arms tremble as he hovers over her, their flesh connected at the hips as he thrusts deep and the hot inner muscles of her sex caress and lick until his cock feels as it is being suckled and her legs, long, lean muscles flexing and trembling, wrap around the firm hot flesh of his thrusting buttocks.

And she writhes beneath him and her eyes flutter and turn up under the translucent skin of her eye lids and her breasts heave as she rustles and twists and her hips rise to meet his and she expels a moan and the smell of their coupling rises and envelops them in a cloying delicious miasma of musk and pure lust.

He pulls out, the sucking folds of her sex clinging to him, and lowers until the top of his shaft is rubbing against the swollen tip of her clit is throbbing against the flesh of his prick and then exhaling hot silver breath he thrusts harshly into the depths of her body, running its length and pressing against the tiny nub of her desire.

Just the other side of
sleep,
you franticly jerk and thrash,
quickening your fall
over the precipice
till breath and dreams
expel.

The moon peers through the gossamer of pale curtains and watches and then insinuates its long silver fingers through the open window to glisten on the pale buttocks as they flex and push and thrust and picks out crimson as she thrashes her head and the silken curls spill in a frenzy of fire across the pale sheets and the shadows and light grapple and wrestle and the world reels and a kaleidoscope of time passes ….

Deep within he feels the tugging and she is impossibly swollen and impossibly hot and she grips him and pulls him and suddenly in the heat of the room he hears her groan and stifle a scream and with a long exhale she tips over the precipice and he feels her inner muscles, strong and toned, grip him in rhythmic contractions and the tip of his prick is pinched as her womb begins to contract. Like a wave of sound, she squeezes and pulls at him, and before his eyes, a hot red flush spreads across her found, heaving breasts. And her breath is held tight within her and the wave hits and she exhales as she ejaculates rhythmic steams of clear fragrant fluid that soaks his groin and pools beneath her ….and he tips over the edge.

Almost painfully, pulled violently from deep inside his groin, he ejaculates in long powerful streams deep within her contracting warmth and he feels himself thrust helplessly, filling her, flooding her, spilling his essence in her most private place, filling her up with his hot creamy emission, claiming her as his own ….

And the moon moves across the wine-dark sky and sighs, enveloping the thrashing couple in hot silver light and licking along the curve and play of shadow in thrusting buttock and the spill of tangled curls along sheet and breathes in the hot essence of lust and glows luminously in the night sky.

In the warmth
and pause of release,
sleep’s tendrils pull
you deeper,
back to your nether
world of wet repose
and throbbing urgencies.

Her breath softens, evens as his arms tremble and the moonlight dapples his green gaze and runs a caressing finger along the line of jaw. He pulls himself, still stiff and wet, sticky with their secretions and lithely moves away from the trembling moist body of the girl to crouch in the shadows. The moonlight peeks through the fluttering curtains and licks a line of light along the length of leg then slides up onto the bed to glisten along the long length of parted thigh, lighting the droplets of moisture and creamy froth bedewing the swollen flesh of her sex.

The girl’s eyes flutter then calm as the moonbeam licks gently along the closed lids and breathes softly into her mouth.

Moonlight dances in the dappled shadow and light of the room and the figure stands almost transparent and waits and then as the world reels and time calls, the moon lowers on the horizon and he reaches for the pale flesh and cups a round, heaving breast and at his groin, he twitches and stirs and the pale nipples began to flush as he twists and pulls…

The silver sliver
of light along the
edge of the blind spills
onto your ripe silver
breasts; I cup and gently
pinch erect nipples,
and my hands whisper
dreams to your thighs
as my fingers probe
promises into you,
as you throb and leak
in another of your
incubus haunted
nights.

Autumn Interlude

2008-09-20T20:29:00.000-04:00

The air is crisp and cool, the sky that intense almost impressionist blue that only occurs in the fall. Around us, the forest blazes red, orange and yellow, pulsing, colours which illuminate and shine like gold and bronze, shimmering painfully against the deep cerulean blue of the sky, creating a hyperawareness of self and life as we walk through our secret woods. Sunlight spills down through the fluttering leaves that dance and cavort in a final burst of life to waft to a forest floor that drifts and confuses as we meander through its corridors.
Hand in hand, crunching leaves underfoot, our breaths are frosty in the crisp sweet air, bodies moving gently, limbs supple and warm from our hike. Here, out in the forest, we feel peaceful and calm, two forest creatures walking gently through the woods. Squirrels rustle in the thick carpet of leaves which have already fallen from the leaves, leaping from tree to tree as they busy themselves for the coming winter. Above our heads, the thinning canopy of trees forms a rich tapestry of colour and promise of light as sun strikes fire into the yawning expanse of sky and spills gold onto the yearning of yesterday.

Your eyes meet mine and spark green into forest and want and I feel myself dampen and beneath the sweater which cloaks me in a spurious modesty, I feel my nipples stiffen and pucker and yearn towards the need in your gaze.

You push me hard against the gnarly, rough bark of a large oak, and I feel the rough bark against my back scraping and pushing as if in the embrace of some elemental wooden spirit and I sigh, breath cool. I close my eyes, just feeling, as your lips meet mine and your cool hands clasp my sweatered waist. We kiss, deep, long and passionate and I feel the ache begin deep within as your hot breath mingles with mine and against the cool of this fall day we spark heat. Against my slender hips, I feel you stirring and between my thighs, I feel a moaning want that makes me tremble.

Your hands fumble at my waist and slip up under my sweater to find my breasts. Your palms are cool against the warmth of the soft, swollen globes, your fingers seeking and finding the hard nubs of my need. I sigh against you, leaning in and running my lips along your neck, the detritus of a long day tickling the soft flesh of my lips. In the golden glow and intense blue of the fall sky, my breasts are luminous and pale, skin translucent, nipples tumescent and crimson.

You press hard against me and I feel your cock like a bar across my groin. I reach down and gently but firmly run my fingers along the swollen length, pausing at the tip, to gently pull and squeeze ever so gently beneath the harsh denim.

Eagerly, I unzip and with some difficulty, manage to free your rampant erection. Your stiff swollen penis shrinks slightly in the cool air, then rallies as I run expert fingers up and down the sweet pale shaft, pulling the velvet skin up and down as your hands continue to cup and fondle my breasts, tweaking the hard swollen nipples, pinching the soft flesh until I sigh my need against your neck and squeeze the sweet, hard flesh of your want between my fingers.

My breath is coming faster now as my very sensitive nipples are rolled and pinched gently between your fingers. I groan and you, understanding, delicately take my nipples and squeeze them firmly, almost painfully, taking the turgid, crimson nubs between fingers now warmed, and pinch until I moan into your neck and feel the connection to my womb. As you squeeze my nipples, beneath my skirt a trickle of clear arousal runs from the swelling folds of my cunt and I move restlessly against use, pushing the mound of my sex against your want.

You press your painfully stiff prick against the wool of my skirt, then impatient, you release my breasts and bending down, gather the bottom of my skirt and pull it up.

I am wearing stockings underneath, flesh coloured, clasped by a white garter belt. My legs are long and muscular and curvy, thighs taut. I am wearing a thong, the skimpy silk barely covering my groin, the string gusset running between the plump, swollen lips of my cunt.

You grasp me urgently between the legs, no preliminaries required or wanted. Your fingers push aside the string of my undergarment, and burrow between the slippery smooth lips of my sex, probing between my swollen folds then finding the slippery entrance, you sink your finger up me, to the knuckle. I gasp and sink down on you’re your invading digit. Against my groin I feel your prick jump and looking down I see a long thread of clear sticky fluid extending from the crimson tip of your prick to my skirt, glistening in the cool golden spill of sun.

Our breaths come harsh and quick in the crisp fall air, pale puffs of lust, heating our bodies and warming our intimacy.

I spread my thighs, giving you egress to my cunt.

You pull at the folds of the full skirt with frustration, an urgency firing your blood and infecting me with a sweet lust.

I spread my thighs, your fingers probing roughly, deliciously between. Then you pull your fingers out, coated and wet with my juice. Pulling up the skirt, you grasp the base of your stiff, hard prick and push forward. I angle my hips and the spongy head of your cock probes firmly. The tip enters my tight, swollen cunt, pushing aside the deep pink folds and sinking deliciously up, pushing aside the firm, swollen flesh.

I gasp as I feel your cock impaling me. Although thoroughly aroused, I am still tight and you have to push a little harder to sink another inch up my sweet hole.

I close my eyes and lean back, weak kneed against the rough bark of the tree. I feel as if your prick is holding me up. I look down and my mouth is dry. Your prick juts out obscenely from your pants, long and pale and thick. My skirt is flattened against my belly and I can see the shaven mound of my sex, the rings glinting in the tendrils of sunlight.

Your prick disappears, a thick bar between my pale, white thighs.

Your face is closed, intent, determined, your eyes glued to where we are joined. You push closer, sliding that beautiful cock even deeper and making me gasp yet again. My juices are running in clear, sticky rivulets down my thighs and coating your prick. As you pull out, we both look down and watch as its long thick shape emerges, glistening from my sweet juices in the harsh sunlight.

You moan as my rings scrape ever so lightly against the distended velvet length and push in and up again, seeking the sweet sucking pull of my cunt.

You begin to thrust then, hard and rhythmically, in and out of my secret, swollen depths, pushing your sweet hard prick up and deep, impaling me deliciously, probing and pulling, thrusting in and out, in and out, trailing liquid fire and sticky discharge along my slit, gasping each time my rings rub your cock as you pull it, sucking, out.

I am moaning now because each time you push in I feel your cock trail over my now distended and erect clit, hiding usually but now peaking from between the lips of my labia.

I try to thrust my hips at you, claim more of that delicious treat but our stance is awkward.

Impatiently, keeping your prick buried in me, you carefully lean down and hook my knee over your elbow. Immediately I feel the full thick length of your prick sink straight up me as your groin smacks against my spread cunt.

I hang on to your shoulders, my leg braced against your arm. My cunt is spread and open to your big thick prick, now pushing hard in and out of the red, swollen folds.

I can feel the tugging, insistent, from my womb, warning me that I am coming close. I moan, gasping louder, closing my eyes, and relishing the feel of that hard cock pounding into me. Your other hand is grasping my hip almost cruelly, pulling me toward you each time you thrust. I know I will have a bruise there from your fingers, my pale skin purple, the mark of your fingers clear, but I don't care.

All I care is that your prick continues to push into me, that your sweet hard cock keeps fucking me, pounding into me.

Your breath is harsh in my ear, and I can tell that you are getting close. I reach down and am just able to scrape my nails lightly across your balls, which are tight now and pulled up close into your body. You moan and your tempo increases.

I feel the tugging, pulling and push my cunt hard against you, so that the swollen distended clit scrapes against your hard groin .. and then it happens. I scream as my orgasm floods over me ... contractions grasp and milk that thick stem and my cunt seems to swell and tighten even more. I have a hand on your balls and suddenly, in the midst of my euphoria, feel the thrumming and know your balls are emptying and suddenly, deep inside, I feel the hot almost painful spurts as your cock erupts.

Once, twice, three times you push as deep and hard as you can, hot jets of frothy white sperm inundating my most secret passageway, filling me with a forceful, throbbing heat that sends me spinning into another reality.

My orgasm begins to subside, my contractions lessen...

You lean against me, your breath harsh against my neck, one hand spasmodically clutching my swollen, aching breast, our heats throbbing against each other, echoing the beat of satiation, your hips pushing spasmodically against me ..

I feel your beautiful prick softening slightly. You slump against me, our breathing harsh and measured, as we both recover.

I feel the bark against my back, prickly and hard. Our conjoined parts are warm in the frosty air, but I feel the coolness against my belly, as our fluids trickle out and down my inner thighs as your prick softens and shrinks.

You pull away, your prick reluctantly pulling out, sticky and softening. A stream of warm cum trickles out, cooling rapidly and making me give a low, satiated laugh.

Your prick, still humid and thick, droops against the blue of your jeans, a sticky tendril of cum trailing from its crimson tip.

You pull my sweater down, cupping my breasts over the warmth of the wool and leaning close, kiss me, your mouth warm and sweet, our breaths frosty.

I reach and tenderly gather your prick in my cool palms. Falling to my knees, I take it for a moment in my warm mouth, licking it gently clean, my tongue laving and swallowing the taste of my own cunt and the sharp, tangy sweetness of your cum, then carefully push it back in your pants, zipping up, leaning my face against its still swollen length.

I shake my skirt down and move, legs trembling. I feel the warm sticky reality of our want. You take my hand and kiss me gently, and we continue our meanderings through the vibrant woods, content and satiated.

The Master

2008-09-15T12:56:00.000-04:00

Part I

Her wrist stings as the rope bites into the soft pale flesh, the almost translucent delicacy of skin beneath which a blue tracery of veins throb stretched taut. Beneath the pale soft embrace of the blindfold, her eyes flutter as graduations of light and dark lick fear into the aching fragility of their green gaze. She feels a rippling along the stretched line of thigh and forces herself to relax, staving off the painful reality of cramping muscles.

She lies spread-eagled on the bed, the mattress firm beneath the pale flesh of her buttocks, her arms pulled up and out to the sides. An ache in her shoulders, tolerable but insistent keeps her focused. Intricate knots, delicate and complicated encircle the long bones of wrist and snake sinuously along the long line of arm, sweeping under the small breasts to encircle and imprison and then sweeping up and to the other side of the stretched reality of her supine figure.

Each long leg has been pulled to opposite corners of the mattress, the firm muscle of her thighs jumping slightly from the pressure, calves flexed, delicate ankles embraced by 2 inch scarlet leather cuffs, through which yet another rope has been woven and then tied off.

He stands back and studies his handiwork.

Her skin is so pale it is almost translucent. At the sweet, delicate pressure points of her figure; the wrists, the spot where the pulse throbs in the ankle, the achingly sweet valley where thigh meets groin and the smooth plump sex, a pale blue tracery of veins licks fragility into her strong frame. Her breasts are small, their firm handful of soft flesh prominent in the prison of ropes, the large plump nipples swollen, engorged, their normal colourless sweetness blushing pink and as he watches, crimson, the ivory of their soft flesh blushing deeper and deeper as circulation is carefully compromised.

Turning, he bends to his bag and picks through its bounty; pausing, he contemplates the soft falls of a suede flogger, then deciding against it, chooses the short-handled crop. Deceivingly innocuous, the crop looks benign in his capable hand.

He stands back to contemplate his canvas.

Her breasts quiver, the flesh shivering as her breath quickens, shallow and rapid. She is tense, on edge, anticipation lending anxiety to her restrained flesh. Delicately, barely touching, he runs the crop from ankle up the inside of the long leg to the inside of her thigh. Like a restless mare, her skin quivers beneath the touch, muscles jumping under the smooth flesh. She snorts, an explosion of air and the taut flesh of her belly jumps and her breasts shake.

Delicately, barely touching, he uses the tip of the crop to push between the tightly furled lips of her sex, gaping just slightly between the widely spread thighs, silver rings glistening in the muted light of the room. She moans then catches her breath and is silent. He watches intently, leaving the tip resting just below the shy nub of her clitoris, just tickling the first set of O rings and causing the flesh on her spread thighs to ripple.

Tightly restrained, her movements are limited. He watches as her flesh flushes, the long muscles in her arms flexing, the soft belly quivering as she tries to push against the tip of the crop.

Pulling back slightly, he trails the crop just slightly down the long pale slit, to the swollen pink creaminess of her cunt; there, leaning slightly to get the angle right, he pushes the leather tip just inside, sighing as the deep pink folds seem to swell and engulf the slick, soft leather.

"ahhh" he exhales as he carefully twists the crop, licking his lips which feel dry and relishing the wet, suckling sound of her swollen folds as the stiff leather pushes in and out, glistening now with the fragrant, silky wetness of her arousal.

His cock feels swollen and heavy, throbbing beneath the stuff of his blue jeans. Sweat gleams on his bare chest, glistening in the muted light of the candles which are massed in fragrant bunches at various stations in the room, scenting the warm air with a hint of vanilla.

Pulling on the crop slowly, he sighs as the hot swollen folds seem to cling and lick along its dark surface, as if seeking to swallow its stiff promise.

She makes a mewling sound of loss, then breathes deep and he watches as she struggles for decorum. Slowly, her breathing which had become rapid and shallow, began to deepen, the swollen, purpling breasts quivering as she fights for control and then finds that spot deep inside.

Leaning over, he closes his eyes and breathes in the scent that is uniquely her, clean, soft and with an underlying deliciousness of musk and woman scent that makes his prick twitch, swollen, drooling and dampening the gusset of the snug pants. Again, he pushes slowly, exquisitely the stiff leather of the crop up into her body, his breath warm against her belly.

Without warning, he straightens and in a graceful movement, pulls the crop from its warm prison. Moisture sparkles as with a practiced flick of his wrist, he cracks the crop on the taut thigh. She cries out, shocked and he watches as the flesh pinkens, then pales, a long white line of flesh already swelling. Then stepping back and taking a comfortable stance, he flicks the crop again and yet again, laying an intricate mandela of fire along her flesh, creating a pattern of ownership that will linger on the sensitive canvas of her body for several days.

He feels restless, unsatisfied. He pauses, his fingers run along the abused flesh of her thighs, pushing against the rapidly swelling welts and feeling his cock twitch, stiffen, damp and throbbing between his thighs as she whimpers. He wants more.

He looks at her and drinks in her helplessness and likes it. He wants to hurt her, hard. He wants to hear her whimper and scream and watch her body writhe as he pays homage to his need and want. He feels almost feverish as he contemplates his desire to rend flesh and stepping, lithe and silent, to the supine body, he leans over and nuzzles into the long line of her neck.

Delicately, he breathes along her throat, then like a great beast, he widens his mouth and baring his teeth, he leans into the valley of her throat and pulls the almost translucent flesh between his lips. He moans, vibrating into the pulsing of her very life force, feeling it between his teeth, knowing he could bite and feel the hot copper blood rush into his mouth, that he could, should he choose, take her very pulse of life into his own and drink it in until the spasming of her very essence jerks into silence.

She lies, pliant and accepting, docile under the threat of his want, open to his need and his desires and he reaches between his own legs and squeezes his prick which aches with a fierceness that is almost painful. Then releasing her throat he bends into her neck, down into the meat of her shoulder and bites, hard, her breath harsh in his ear as his teeth sink deep. She cries out, trying vainly to stifle herself as the pain slices through her self-imposed sacrifice and stings reality into her mind.

Before his teeth can cause too much damage, he steps back and grins wolfishly, loving the mark of his teeth in her shoulder.

He reaches without looking for where the knives lie, honed, shined to a bright dangerous gleam. As expected, she has laid them out precisely, aligned exactly as to size and height. His fingers unerringly close over the bone handle of the bowie knife, caressing the smooth, worn surface lovingly, as if the elegant twist of bone was a lover’s flesh.

Holding the knife consideringly, his eyes narrow but watchful, he contemplates his canvas.

To be continued

His obedient pet

2008-08-23T07:45:00.000-04:00

He was running late for work, but before he left, he had some business to take care of.

Walking into the bedroom, he pulled down the sheet, exposing her to his gaze. She remained asleep, exhaustion from their lovemaking the previous night taking its toll. She lay on her back, her legs relaxed and slightly apart, one arm over her head. The threadbare t-shirt she wore hid very little of her body. Her small plump breasts were clearly outlined through the thin cotton, their large nipples prominent. One breast hung slightly to the side while the other pointed up to the ceiling, pulled by her arm which was flung over her head.

Quietly, he moved to the end of the bed and peered between her legs. Her shaved cunt lips were just visible, tightly closed, hiding the pearl within. But as he looked he could see the lips glistening slightly and he was satisfied that even in sleep she was slightly aroused.

Then without any warning, he took her legs and thrust them rudely apart.

She woke with a start, instinctively attempting to pull them closed. He slapped her thigh sharply, leaving a red handprint. Startled she left them straddled. Her heavy lidded eyes, dazed with sleep, questioned him silently.

He pulled her t-shirt up, exposing the round soft stomach, curving waist and then her plump pale breasts. With one hand he squeezed one of her tits firmly, as if weighing fruit, deciding whether to buy. He moulded it and pushed it and pulled it away from her body. Then he pinched her nipple fairly sharply. She gave a small cry. He pulled back and clinically looked between her spread thighs. The pale soft cunt lips gaped slightly in this position, while from within their red counterparts split open.

At the tip he could see her clitoris peaking out, and grunted when he saw it starting to erect. Grabbing one thigh he pulled it apart even further thus giving him visual access to her entire vulva. Putting his head between her thighs he inspected her cunt hole. Normally pink he was pleased to see it flush a darker, richer colour and as he watched a clear stream of cunt juice suddenly squeezed out and trickled down the crack of her ass.

Her hips moved slightly as if to give him greater access but again he smacked her hip sharply. She stilled and he continued his inspection. Her vulva was starting to swell before his eyes and he watched with pleasure as her cunt lips plumped and expanded while the folds of her vagina began to pulsate.

Taking his hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out the beads. On a thin latex string, there were 5 attached beads, each around 2 inches in diameter. With his other hand, using his fingers, he spread her cunt hole wide so he could look in.

Then taking the beads he pushed the first one up the soft, warm folds. Her passage was tight, and initially there was some resistance, then before his eyes, the wide plastic egg shaped bead slid up into the swollen deep pink hole, the flesh contracting around the string as it disappeared.

He took the next one and pushed and again her cunt seemed to suck the bead into its soft, slippery depths. He followed suit with each bead until the entire string had disappeared up her cunt, leaving only a dangling tail emerging from the soft swollen cunt whose folds hid the bounty within.

Satisfied, he sat straight and gave her her instructions for the day. Pulling out a soft Indian dress with a low round bodice he told her she was to wear it today. Standing, her legs trembling slightly, she stood obediently while he pulled the dress on over her head. The valley between her breasts was clearly visible while the slope of her tits could be seen almost to her nipples. Opening a button, he reached into her bodice and pulled out first one breast, then the other, allowing them to fall naked against the cotton of the dress.

He cupped them, fondling and moulding them and running his thumbs roughly over the nipples. Her breasts seemed to swell in front of his eyes and her nipples contracted and elongated until they were like tiny red fingers at the end of their tips.

Standing back he admired the picture she made. The rich, burnished curls of her head cascaded around the pale shoulders, her green eyes, heavy lidded and still dazed by sleep glowed in her pale Irish face. Her plump pale breasts stood out against the muted blue of the dress, their tips swollen and crimson, their nakedness glaringly obvious and obscenely arousing.

Taking her hand, he led her to the bathroom and pushing her gently, sat her on the toilet, gathering up the folds of the dress so her entire groin and legs were open to his gaze. Obediently she spread her legs so he could see the crack of her cunt gaping open. Looking up, she mutely begged permission.

Kneeling, he put his hand between her legs feeling her cunt thoroughly from the tip of her pudenda to her firm ass cheeks. Pushing with two fingers, he ensured the beads were still safely ensconced in their warm prison, then rocking back on his heels, nodded.

Biting her lips slightly, she concentrated then closed her eyes as with a sigh, a hot pale stream of urine splashed into the toilet. He watched intently as she grimaced with relief, emptying her bladder from the night's concentration. The stream splashed noisily into the bowl from between the gaping lips, her inner labia stretched as she spread her legs a little wider. The hiss of the piss escaping her urethra was quite arousing and he felt his prick stir.

The hot stream faltered, then thinned, and he watched her stomach muscles contract as she emptied the last drops.

Taking some toilet paper, he wiped her thoroughly, checking for a last time the beads enwrapped in her inner recesses. Then pulling her to stand, he turned and washed his hands.

He told her she was to go about her business like this all day, with her breasts swinging free, her cunt naked and that the beads must never come out until he returned home and made the decision to remove them. Should she need to urinate she was to phone him and he would decide whether she could or not and where and when she would be allowed to piss.

Submissively, she agreed, then twining soft arms around his neck kissed his throat. He held her close, moulding the cheeks of her ass against his groin and kissing her deeply. Then he left.

She went about her tasks, feeding the animals, washing dishes, making phone calls. She was constantly aware of her naked cunt because to keep the beads up, she had to consciously be aware that they were shoved up her and keep her cunt muscles contracted. Squeezing and releasing her cunt as she went about her business, she found herself becoming inexorably aroused.

To complicate things, as she worked her breasts would swing freely, jiggling and pulling at her chest. When she was bent over the bath, scrubbing, her tight hard nipples came into contact with the cold porcelain, making her pause and then almost guiltily she swung them against it again, relishing the feel of its coolness against their hot tips.

She reached between her legs and fingered her cunt, tugging slightly at the string and gasping as the beads rolled and shifted deep within her cunt. She was very wet and because her cunt hole was blocked, she coated her finger with her juices then delicately probed her anus.

Gently, she slowly, voluptuously pushed her stiff finger up the tiny hole. Her sphincter muscle resisted for a moment, then closing her eyes and concentrating, she pushed harder and with a sigh, felt her finger sink into the tight muscular vice of her anus.

She knelt, her breasts rubbing against the cold side of the bath, her finger pushing in and out of her ass while the beads rolled and clacked inside her. Then, aware that she was getting very close to cumming and knowing he would be furious if she did, she reluctantly pulled her finger out. Washing, she turned then and continued with her work.

She tried to drink as little as possible but the day was warm and she craved tea. Between the tea and water, by 1 o'clock she was bursting to urinate. She was tempted just to void and not tell him but decided it would be better to get permission. Phoning, she asked to be connected.

Getting on the phone, he asked her brusquely what she wanted. A bit hesitantly she told him she needed to pee. He was quiet for a moment then told her he was busy and he would call her back when he was ready.

She felt a little desperate as he hung up. Her cunt felt heavy and swollen and her bladder was already straining. Willing herself to ignore it, she finished up some laundry. Bending to pick up the basket, she inadvertently released some urine from her bursting bladder, and a thin stream ran down her leg. Clamping the muscles of her cunt tight she stopped the flow before it really began, tears starting as the sensation became painful.

It must have been three quarters of an hour later. She was sitting quietly, afraid to move, in case the urine she was so desperately trying to suppress would spurt out. She was quite honestly close to crying when he called back. He made her describe exactly how she felt, listening while she talking about how her cunt was aching between her need to piss and the effort involved in keeping the beads up her vagina. He told her he was going to allow her to pee but she had to follow his instructions. He told her to go outside to the backyard to the small secret garden he had built for her.

Taking the phone, she obediently went out, looking around carefully to ensure no neighbour was around to see her bouncing, naked breasts. To her horror, as she walked, minute quantities of hot urine would trickle down the inside of her legs with every step. Once safely behind the latticework of her garden, she told him she was ready.

He told her to take her skirt and tie it tightly around her waist so that her entire lower body was exposed. Then, when that was done, he instructed her to crouch and spraddle her legs. Holding onto the phone desperately, in agony now, her bladder aching, she was almost crying. At the other end of the phone, he smiled in satisfaction as he heard her teary voice.

Obediently, every ounce of concentration bent on keeping her bladder clamped shut, she put the phone on the nearby chaise lounge, standing very close so he could hear her and she could hear his further instructions.

After tying up her skirt, she crouched down, spreading her legs. A hot stream of liquid splashed onto the dry earth when she crouched and she gave a cry of distress.

On the phone, she heard him talking and reached for it. He was displeased.

"I heard that – you pissed didn't you?"

Tearfully she admitted some had escaped.

Telling her he would deal with that later, he told her to grasp the string which dangled obscenely between her straddled legs. Reaching between she grasped the string.

Almost light-headed with relief, she heard him tell her she could piss.

For a moment she could do nothing. Her cunt was very wet and very hot, her lips swollen and red; then, clenching her stomach muscles, she concentrated on pissing. With a spurt, a hot yellow stream gushed out of her cunt, soaking her hand and wrist. She heard him tell her to pull on the string, gently but carefully.

She slowly pulled on the string, conscious of the hot piss running down her arm and pooling in her palm. With a small pop the first bead, coated and thick with her juice, popped out. The feeling was quite incredible, the bead was large and stretched her cunt wide before suddenly allowing the hot red folds to contract together on the next portion of the string which it pulled. The sound of the thick stream of urine splashing on the ground added to her arousal, as it emerged from between her cunt lips it streamed to the ground, splashing the inside of her thighs and soaking her feet.

She gritted her teeth against the pleasure and tugged and with a groan felt the second bead pop out.

Musky with her juice, she slowly and methodically began to pull the entire string of beads from her swollen cunt. The golden stream of piss was thinning now and her entire groin felt tense and heavy. As the hot piss streamed out, it was as if she was directing a stream of water which massaged and caressed her while each bead as it emerged, seemed to pull at her very womb. Deep within her she felt that tight, wonderful sensation and she knew once she got the final beads pulled out of her she would cum.

Suddenly she heard his voice faintly and reluctantly she picked up the phone, her hand dripping. Briskly he asked her how many beads she had left. She told him, then he asked her to describe exactly how close she was to cumming. Her bladder was almost empty and she consciously stopped the stream, wanting hot piss to be spilling out when she pulled out the final beads.

Then she heard him tell her sternly to finish her piss but to leave the beads in and that once she was through pissing she was to shove the ones she had already removed back up. Almost tearfully she tried to explain that she was quite desperate to cum and if she could just finish ... angrily he told her to obey and deeply disappointed, but obedient she agreed.

Telling her she was a good girl he hung up.

Spreading her legs wider she squatted slightly and released her bladder, allowing the rest of her piss to stream to the ground. Then as it sputtered and emptied, she used her fingers to push the beads back up her aching cunt.

Finished, she went into the house, undressing and quickly but carefully showering so she would be fragrant and clean for his return.

The rest of the day passed slowly, she could not resist fingering her cunt at intervals, rubbing her fingers between her swollen wet lips, pushing a finger delicately up her ass and swivelling her hips to feel the hard beads roll and push within her. Finally, to escape she lay down and tried to doze.

Some time later, somewhere between sleep and awareness she heard him come in. Immediately she stood, a bit dazed, her breasts bouncing as she staggered slightly. He came into the bedroom and without saying anything to her, simply grasped her and turned her around. Pulling her skirt up from the back, he pushed her face down so her ass was up in the air, exposing her entire cunt to his gaze. First he checked the string, then satisfied it was intact, intently studied her cunt.

Her lips were swollen and dusky with arousal, while not just the slit but the entire inside of her soft thighs were wet with her juice. She bent over the bed, the skirt thrown over her head, pulsating with lust. She felt him rub his fingers between her slit, roughly, then without any warning she felt his index finger penetrate her in the ass.

She groaned as his stiff finger pushed in her and began to fuck her roughly. She began to move her hips back and flinched as he administered a stinging slap.

He then pulled out his finger and telling her to stay as she was went to the bathroom to wash it. Docile, she stayed in her position, relishing the feel of the breeze against her naked exposed ass. Then she heard him calling and eagerly went to find him. He was in the washroom standing before the toilet.

"Take out my prick and hold it while I piss," he commanded her.

Her fingers trembling, she unbuttoned his fly. Reaching inside she pulled out his thick, flaccid prick and directed it to the bowl. For a moment there was nothing and then from the spongy tip of his cock a thick golden stream of piss began to splash into the bowl. He stood aloof while she directed the hot stream into the toilet bowl, loving the feel of his velvet prick and the splash of the hot piss. His prick jerked and filled as he pissed, its soft length hardening slightly.

As the stream thinned, he suddenly stopped it, then turning to her took his prick from her hand and pushed her down to kneeling. Obediently she opened her small lips, and he pushed in just the head of his cock.

Watching intently, she saw his stomach clench and suddenly a hot stream of piss filled her mouth. She swallowed quickly but some of the ambrosia of his essence spurted out of the sides of her lips, running in rivulets down her chin. After a moment his stream petered out and happily, she allowed the rest to run down the back of her throat, hot and acrid and delicious.

Turning more fully toward her, he wrapped his hands in her tangled curls, and slowly, roughly, began to thrust his still slightly flaccid cock into the small mouth. Rhythmically, he pushed his hips into her face, relishing the feel of her hot warm tongue, while even the slight grating of her teeth along his length was unbelievably erotic.

Looking down he admired the picture she made. Tightening his hands, he pulled the curls sharply, harshly so around his now thickening organ she gave a cry. His prick jerked at her distress and he tightened his hands even more, pulling sharply at the roots of the beautiful glossy curls.

Tears started from her eyes as her hair was cruelly pulled but she continued to suck avidly at the sweet moist prick now throbbing and stiff between her lips.

Holding her head steady, he began to fuck her mouth in earnest, shoving his prick harder and deeper within its soft prison.

She gagged as his prick thrust at the back of her throat, constricting her breathing and a mixture of snot and fluid snorted from her nose. Ignoring her distress, he held her head tightly, pulling up so her hair was being tugged harshly and thrusting his cock deep down her throat.

His prick was stiff and throbbing now and filled her small mouth to the point of pain. Her lips were distended, the corners pulled tight, straining to encompass his girth. Her eyes streamed and she fought not to gag as his prick pushed down the back of her throat.

Her reality narrowed to the immediate; a hot stiff prick fucking her mouth, the sweet pain of her hair being tugged and pulled, the feel of the cool tiles beneath her knees.

A moment later, her breath hitching, she was able to take a deep cleansing breath as he pulled his cock free.

Prick bobbing, its pale length glistening from her saliva, he motioned to her to follow.

Entering the room, she stood quietly, awaiting instructions.

Stripping off her dress, he left her naked and vulnerable. Then, reaching into the nearby drawer, he pulled out the Velcro cuffs. Fastening one around each slender wrist, he clipped them to each other and led her thus tethered to the doorway.

Pulling her arms up, he clipped her bound wrists to the O ring embedded there, then stood back to consider. Reaching, he grabbed a hair tie and standing behind her, a little awkwardly pulled up the mass of crimson curls into a messy ponytail on top of her head.

Now the long elegant sweep of back was revealed to the deep indentation at the base of her spine, where her small firm buttocks flexed as her arms were pulled a little higher than was strictly comfortable. Her legs were long and shapely, the thighs taut, the knees and ankles delicate, her calves, toned and firm from yoga.

Reaching again into the drawer, he fastened the blindfold around her big green eyes.

Smacking her thighs, he had her spread her legs and crouching, tugged slightly at the string which dangled from her swollen cunt.

She groaned as she felt the tugging deep within her womb.

Satisfied, he stood.

She moved her head restlessly, seeking to discern his direction. Her eyes were completely darkened, the blindfold snug, allowing no light penetration.

She pranced somewhat nervously, her shoulders aching slightly, flexing and unflexing her buttocks as she waited for him.

Time passes differently when your senses are compromised and she lost track of how long she had been standing there. Silence met her nervous queries and lapsing into silence, she sought inner peace. Eventually, lulled by inactivity, she began to relax.

From behind, he sat on the bed, watching her, and grinned. He saw her shoulders relax, the nervous prancing subside and like a docile mare, one leg cocked, she almost dozed.

As silent as a cat, he slipped behind her, crop grasped in one gloved hand. Quietly, he raised his arm and then with a crack brought the thongs sharply against the fleshy part of her shoulder.

She cried out as the whip caressed her pale Irish flesh. Pink bloomed along her shoulder blade as he brought it down yet again. Gently, not harshly, light as a butterfly he swept its leather tongues along her back, coaxing, caressing and eliciting a sigh as she flexed her spine, accepting its kiss.

Creating an intricate pattern, never once allowing the tongues to touch where they had before, he wielded a Master's hand. Her thighs trembling, she felt her skin expand and swell, her heart fill as her beloved gave her his love.

Her skin flickered, the nerve endings awakening and singing, blood rushing to the surface, neurons sending messages to her brain. Between her legs, her vagina, already swollen and hot, plumped even more, slick and wet and in her subspace she strained to remember to keep her sweet tight passage contracted, trapping the beads he had put there.

Moving around his captive darling, he studied the jiggling breasts, their nipples swollen and extended. Gently, caressingly, he swept the tongues of the crop along their sensitive tips and smiled as she cried out.

Pausing, he took the clamps attached to his belt and cautioning her to remain still, delicately opened their tiny clamps. Voluptuously slowly, he brought the plastic covered metal near the swollen tip and then felt his prick jerk as their blunt teeth fastened around its red length. She groaned as she felt the clamp bite into her nipple then silenced as he murmured encouragement. Slowly, carefully, he fastened the second clamp to the hard swollen nipple of her other breast, and then stood back, admiring the sight of the clamps biting into the soft white breasts, a slim golden chain attaching them one to the other, dragging the firm breasts down slightly.

The moving to her back yet again, he commenced his whispering seduction of his beloved. His arm rose and fell and in the silence of the room the whisper and crack of the whip was moist and seductive, a vocal partner to the sensation imparted by its slick tongues.

Her shoulders hyper extended and flexing, she twisted on trembling legs, her back a mass of sensation. Her swollen lips dripped a steady stream of arousal, her breasts flared, an exquisite pain radiating from their cruelly clamped tips.

Watching intently, judging, planning, he paused, gently putting his hand between her legs.

Groaning deep in her throat, almost unaware, lost deep in her personal ecstasy and sensation almost beyond bearing, she began to pant.

Crouching, he studied the luscious cunt intently. Licking his lips, his prick felt swollen and almost sore, his balls aching and tight. Rubbing a hand along its swollen crimson length, he coated his fingers with his own juice, now leaking in a pale glistening stream from the blinking eye.

Finger coated with pre-cum he gently grasped the swollen clit, rubbing so gently his touch was almost a whisper of breath. With his other hand, he grasped the dangling slippery string and tugging, began to pull.

Deep within her womb, she felt the tugging. Her clit flamed and it felt as if her entire womb was being pulled out from between her legs. Panting harshly, hips moving without conscious thought she began moaning, small cries of animal lust that inflamed her beloved.

"Now," he whispered.

"Now!" he said louder.

Obeying,, helpless against his voice, she complied.

With a scream she began to cum. Powerful contractions racked her groin and a strong, overwhelming pressure pushed at the front of her cunt.

"Yes" she heard him say and sighing and moaning, she capitulated.

A hot spray of liquid gushed from the front of her cunt as she ejaculated, coating his hand and spraying his face.

As the last slippery, coated bead slipped from her hot passageway, she came again, her hips jerking and spasming as the sensations overwhelmed and thundered over her.

Moaning and thrashing, tears streamed from under the blindfold, soaking its soft surface and leaving a glistening trail along her flushed cheeks, she was helpless.

Standing, his prick throbbing and hard, its crimson tip uncovered, spongy head glistening and angry, he watched with glittering eyes.

Going behind her, with no preliminaries, he grasped the slender hips and probing between the tight buttocks, found his target.

With a yell, he thrust into her tight, slippery nether passage, impaling himself to the groin. His prick was squeezed and scraped as unprepared, she had no time to consciously loosen. Revelling in the tight unforgiving feel of her anus, he thrust harshly, relishing the feel of his prick raping her unprepared fundament.

Holding her tips tightly, his fingers white as he dug into the narrow hips, he fucked her hard.

Panting, pain flaring along the sensitive muscles of her ass, she moaned again. Thrusting back, she pushed her buttocks against his groin, impaling herself further on his stiff pistoning prick.

As he felt the tight, firm buttocks spread and push against his groin, his prick like an iron bar, he came – his prick spurting long molten streams of cum up her tight ass. His balls contracted and spasmed as almost painfully, he emptied himself into her. Once, twice, three times, he thrust, lost in sensation as he felt his essence streaming in a delicious sticky gush into his beloved.

Slowly, he began to slow as his orgasm began to subside. Leaning against her, his face in her shoulder, she could feel his harsh breathing against her neck. Her shoulders aching, she pushed back against him, glorying in the feel of his warm body against her back, the aching feel of his prick still buried in her tight anus.

Finally, able to catch his breath, he stood. Gently, he reached up and unhooked her cuffs from the doorway and catching her as she trembled and almost lost her balance, lay her gently on the bed.

Smoothing the sweat soaked hair from her flushed face, he kissed her gently, his lips clinging, and gently undid the blindfold. Then going to the bathroom, he ran the bath.

On the bed, she lay, in a fugue of satiation and emotion, trembling and sensitive to every nuance, her body shook.

A moment later, her beloved was beside her. Gently guiding her, he lowered her into the warm, scented bath and lovingly began to run a cloth along her flushed and trembling body. Closing her eyes, she listened to his murmurs of love, his gentle compliments and sweet words of praise, her heart singing.

Half asleep, clean and warm, he led her to the bed. There, gently but thoroughly, he worked the cream into her arms and back and even into the taut thighs, paying special attention to the abraded and flushed back.

Finally, pulling back the blankets he rolled her into warm comfort and crawling in beside her, gathered her in his arms.

Warm, loved and surrounded by him, she fell into blissful sleep.

The Selkie

2008-08-18T06:28:00.001-04:00

Bending into the wind, Finn Cameron cursed steadily under his breath. He was well aware that he had had one whiskey too many and his cock quivered between his legs, aching and aroused because that little bitch Bridget O'Malley had given him a good feel of those big pendulous tits of hers but been adamant about allowing him no egress to whatever lay between those plump thighs. Heavy and warm in his hands, the hard rubbery nubs of her teats had driven him mad with lust. He had taken her little hand and tried to at least coax her to give his prick a rub, but squealing, she had slapped his hands away and run giggling back into the dance.

Frustrated and angry, he had slammed out of the ceidlh and headed home. What he hadn't anticipated was the gale force winds and driving rain that even now was making him breathless. Not for the first time, he wondered if he was a fool to keep the little cottage so far from town and so close to the sea.

But as his strong legs drew him close to home, the rich, salty smell of the ocean managed to send tendrils of scent through the driving rain, and stopping for a moment, Finn drew that familiar, beloved scent deep into his lungs. The wind buffeted the tousled fair hair, tangled and curly hanging to shoulders, the stormy grey eyes closed. The wind blew a little less hard and for a moment the full moon sent a silvery glow which lighted his way. Clouds, roiling and dark, scudded across its dulcet surface, creating twisting shadows and lending a softness to the sparse vegetation and wind-burned heather which clung tenaciously to the rolling hills.

He was near the cliff now, a path his feet could take him safely through whether he was blind drunk or exhausted from a hard day pulling nets and fighting the sea for sustenance. Standing on the precipice which loomed over his small home, Finn allowed the wind to flirt and push, sending softer fingers now to curl beneath the muscular arms, the strong, thick thighs and to slap gently against weathered cheeks.

The clouds cleared for a moment, pushed by eddies of a dying storm and the moon shone rich and full, illuminating the restless water below. Despite being clouded with drink, Finn's eyes searched the ocean below, taking in the eddies and flow, the white foam flecked waves and the slap of water against the rocky beach, rhythmic and mesmerizing, as familiar and dear to him as his own breath.

Dark bobbing heads and a wild cry like a woman's scream startled him for a moment, until, grinning at his own befuddlement, Finn took in the dark heads of seals bobbing close to shore. He wondered if his own pretty pet was out among them, and following a whim, began to scramble down the rocky path to the beach.

Finn knew the other fisher folk would jeer. Seals and fisher folk were not always the best of friends, each seeing the other as a potential rival for the sometimes uncertain bounty of the sea. But Finn, secretly, had an affinity for the cheeky, sleek animals with their long intelligent heads and darkly lashed eyes. He would pause in the battered scow of his boat and watch them for a moment, admiring their athletic and sleek muscled bodies and the grace they exhibited as they bobbed and dived just feet away from his puttering vessel. One bold seal in particular had become almost a pet. Finn called it a "her" but wasn't quite certain – he knew her because unlike the dark brown soulful eyes of the other seals, this one had some form of genetic abnormality and the big, dark lashed eyes were light.

She always seemed to be around when he was out, barking and flirting, flipping a bold tail and leaping in a graceful arc from the waves when he threw her a fish. He admittedly found it a little odd sometimes because occasionally the look in those unusually beautiful eyes would disconcert with the intelligence which seemed to shine from them.

Stumbling but somehow keeping his balance, Finn made it to the beach. Down here in the sheltering arms of the cliff which loomed above, the wind's force was muted. He stopped for a moment, feeling woozy. The crash of the waves slapping against the shore was loud now that he was so close, the pounding of the surf echoing off the grey rock. The barking of the seals, wild and forlorn caught his attention. Squinting, Finn tried to peer through the murk as he heard stones rattling and the sound of something dragging.

In the sky above, the full moon shone full on the tiny bay as clouds scudding across its surface cleared.

Finn could see a black mass at the far end of the beach, a mass which seemed to move and writhe but drink and night clouded his normally keen eyes and he couldn't quite make out what it was.

A heavy storm cloud roiled in the night sky, obscuring the bright silver glow of light and defeating any chance he had of making out what was occurring at the other end of the small beach.

Shaking his head, Finn thought he caught a glimpse of something pale. Stumbling on the uneven sandy soil, he tried to tread carefully as he wound his way to the far end to investigate.

Then, out of the murk, a figure, insubstantial, ghostly, seeming to almost float, suddenly appeared. His ears full of the monotonous compelling sound of surf, the muted whistle of wind rubbing soft lips against his face, Finn wondered for a moment whether he had indeed drank far too much.

"Hello!"

Feeling foolish, because after all, it was 1 o'clock in the morning on a goddam bloody stormy night, who in the name of God would be about except himself?

Unbelieving, Finn watched as a figure glided towards him, pale and curved, skin glowing translucent in the gloom, illuminated briefly as scudding clouds cleared and the full moon's sibilant light shone down.

She was tall and almost painfully slender with long sleek muscled limbs. Dense, black hair, lustrous and glossy even in the night snapped around her fine boned face, dominated by huge eyes, which even at this short distance were oddly compelling. Her breasts were small firm mounds on a narrow chest, with swollen dark nipples, tip tilted and delicious. Except for the sweep of hair which snapped and flew around her head, spilling over narrow shoulders and masking for a moment the delectable breasts, the girl was completely smooth. The soft mound of her sex, a plump vee between the long narrow thighs was completely naked yet unmistakably adult.

"Jesus, Mary and Holy Saint Joseph, sweet one, what in the name of God are you doing out here at this time of night?"

Finn felt heat suffice his face as he took in the nude figure. Nude women were not a common occurrence on the windswept beaches of the Orkneys, that was for damn sure.

A practical man, he immediately wondered if perhaps a ship had foundered and then the thought there might be others arrowed into his drink-fuddled mind.

"Are there more of you?" he asked roughly, his fisherman's instinct taking over.

"Did your boat founder in the storm?"

The girl glided up to him on small, neat feet, her small breasts moving slightly, the midnight hair almost alive in the dying gasp of the storm. Coming to him, still not saying a word, the girl reached her hand out and gently patted his cheek.

Finn flinched. Her hand was cool with an undertone of warmth and the great eyes, luminous and a stormy grey/green caught his own in an endless gaze. He forgot for a moment to breathe, a part of his brain noting the hand which touched him was cool but not wet, that the hair which now whipped across his face carried on its silken strands the endless rich smell of the ocean, pungent and rich and to a man of his ilk, intoxicating.

The girl stepped closer and against his chest, despite the layer of flannel, he felt the heat of her breasts, the nubs of her nipples seeming to burn holes into his chest.

His prick, which had begun to subside, suddenly seemed to spark awake. Her warmth seemed to reach out to him, her scent wild and rich invaded his senses. The girl's eyes darkened as she seemed to smell his arousal, and opening the lush mouth, she emitted a low growl which sent tentacles of pure lust spiralling down his nerve endings.

Helplessly, unaware he was doing so, Finn stepped forward, his arms encircling the warm body. His groin felt heavy and aching, his prick an iron bar strangled in the stuff of his pants. Her skin was incredibly smooth and sleek, soft and cool, with an intoxicating bubbling of warmth like a little furnace underneath.

He ran work calloused hands down a sweep of back, to the small firm buttocks; leaning slightly, he cupped the firm cheeks and pulled her close to him, rubbing his swollen groin against her. She clung to him and tilting that fine boned head, her warm lips caught his in a clinging kiss.

She tasted of salt and musk and clean astringent sweetness. Her straight midnight hair trailed silkily across his face as he deepened the kiss, his tongue probing the delicious mouth deeply. His prick, still in its tight prison, throbbed against the warm, flat belly.

He realized that she was making soft trilling sounds, provocative and enticing, thrumming against his tongue. Her long slender fingers were at his chest and suddenly he felt the buttons pop and cool wind for a moment then soft, firm breasts hot against the fur of his chest. Finn groaned as the hot swollen tips seemed to pulse against his skin and somehow, he realized his shirt was off and his bare chest was pressed hard against her.

Finn had lost awareness of his surroundings; had he been aware he would have been amazed as the wind died down, the cool silvery moon raining down twilight light on the frantic couple grappling on the sandy beach. Offshore, dark heads bobbed, eerily silent as large, dark lashed eyes watched the struggle onshore.

The girl's fingers fumbled at the button of his pants. Releasing his frantic clinging lips from hers for a moment, Finn stepped back and tore at the waistband, ripping it open, then unzipping and pushing them to his feet. Shaking his leg, he kicked the pants off, not caring where they lay.

He stood for a moment, drinking in the girl's naked glory. Her hair roiling and dancing around her head, the great eyes, glazed and filled with lust, the breasts heaving, their tips swollen. In the bright moonlight, Finn could see a glistening trail of arousal creeping down her thigh, and his prick throbbed almost painfully. He stood, tall, rugged, wide shouldered and narrow hipped, his prick long and thick, its hooded head glistening and uncovered, crimson and almost angry looking.

The girl's eyes met his, her gaze hot and fervid and Finn's felt himself swell even more. He wasn't sure if she moved forward or whether he did, but suddenly their two naked bodies were pressed tightly to one another.

The girl's long sleekly muscled arms went around his thick neck, and then with an odd little skip, the long slender legs were suddenly clasped around his waist. Finn stood, swaying, her slight weight an easy welcome burden. His swollen prick probed roughly between the straddled legs, pushing into the long glistening slit. His strong teeth nipped at the long neck, almost drawing blood and the girl gave a scream of pure animal lust. Her hips swung against him and with a long exquisite thrust, Finn sank his prick up into her clinging folds.

She was hot, incredibly wonderful, wetly hot and clinging. His prick almost felt too big, swollen and hard, pushing aside red glistening folds and pushing up, until he could feel his heavy testicles slapping against her hot wet cunt.

Yelling, allowing her to hang from the knotted muscles of his neck and shoulders, he released the firm buttocks and dug his strong fingers into the slender hips. Holding tight, he began to pull his swollen cock out, only to helplessly thrust back, pushing it deep within her swollen folds, the feel of her a vice around his throbbing prick, his balls tight and aching.

Leaning, her captured with his lips the tip of one swollen breast, hot and hard and rubbery, suckling, while his hips thrust in a regular, hot rhythm back and forth, up, deep, wanting to cleave her in two, feel his prick burst out through her throat.

His legs began to tremble, and his hands went down around the hot firm cheeks of her ass, holding her close, as ignoring the sharp gritty sand, he fell to his knees, her long legs clinging tightly to his waist, his prick buried deep within her.

The girl lay back against the sand, oblivious to any discomfort, her legs wrapped tight around the man's strong waist. Her hair spilled around her head, a midnight spill of silken pleasure, the great stormy eyes captured his, entangling his own hot gaze with hers, her mouth moist and open, her fine nose flaring as her chest heaved.

Bracing himself, Finn now had the leverage he craved. Her cunt was clinging and hot, tight so that he had to really push, really thrust to get its entire swollen length up its hot glistening sheath. For a moment, he pulled back, frightened he was hurting her, but the purring undertone increased, and lithely, the girl's drumming feet pushed into his flexing buttocks, pushing him deeper within her.

Her slender hips rose each time he slightly withdrew, her long wet gash rubbing up against his swollen length, the hooded clit protruding from between slender, swollen labia whose normally pale skin was flushed and blushing with arousal.

Leaning, Finn captured her delectable mouth with his own, unbelievably aroused by the hot salty taste of her delicious mouth; it tasted like the clean sweet astringent wind dancing over waves, the sweetness of hot sizzling fish frying in a pan on an early morning as the nets fill and hot milky coffee which sends tendrils of life into frozen veins.

His prick felt as it were on fire. He could feel his heart thumping, the heavy balls tightening as the hot molten sperm gathered. He felt an atavistic need to plow, to impregnate, to dominate and fuck this beautiful female, this sweet, exquisite creature who had come out of the night to capture him.

His breath whistled in a frantic throat, matched by her own frenzied breathing and as he watched, the great eyes went opaque and around his already tightly enclosed member he felt her tighten even further, to the point of exquisite pain and then he felt her release and a gush of hot liquid soaked his pistoning groin and the contractions had him, squeezing and tightening and loosening and tightening again, nipping the hot swollen tip of his prick, seeming to suck at its spongy tip, the winking eye spitting a clear steam of precum deep within her ...

And he was lost.

His balls tightened right up into his groin, he felt their aching fullness and then needling through his prick, he felt the hot sperm erupting up the long swollen shaft, to explode and almost painfully assault the throbbing womb, strings of hot molten slashing against her cervix, thrusting harshly, strongly, helplessly against the sucking hot depths. Between his legs he felt a throbbing achiness as his balls tightened and spat their creamy cargo up the thrusting prick deep into her essence.

His mind shut down and became a mindless sweep of orgasmic pleasure, a dark wave of elation that overwhelmed and shut out everything else. His hips thrust, once, twice again, slapping against the hot sweet cunt, emptying his seed, staking his claim, his woman, his sweet darling female.

Finn's prick seemed to spit and throb for an eternity. As the hot streams of creamy essence flooded her tight hot folds, it felt as if his very soul was being dragged into her with their throbbing release. A hot wet stream soaked the wiry hair of his groin and he realized, panting, that the little darling had cum again.

Panting heavily, Finn braced his arms and looked down.

The beauty gazed up at him, eyes hot yet oddly vulnerable, open with the innocence of release and pleasure. His hips locked tightly to her, the last weak spurts making his hips push weakly now against the sweet, sucking cunt, Finn watched a red flush sweep up from the pale swollen breasts, darkening the glowing skin and pinking pale cheeks.

Leaning, he captured the mobile mouth, breathing his own whisky laden breath into its warmth and sweet moistness. Then releasing her lips reluctantly, he hunched slightly and gently lipped a swollen nipple, tugging gently with soft lips.

His prick, though empty, still felt swollen and he had a strange reluctance to disengage. In a smooth motion, Finn fell to one side, rolling to his back, his arms cupping her shoulders, his strong thighs capturing her narrow hips, keeping his still stiff cock deep within her clinging folds. He brought her slight weight over himself, feeling guilty for having shoved her soft back down against the grainy sand.

Stinging, small particles poked his back, but with the soft armful and that glorious hair falling like a black waterfall over his face, he was content.

He held her close, clasped tight to his own warm body, nuzzling the fragrant neck, feeling a deep atavistic contentment at the smell of her, a sweet, astringent mixture of salt and clean water and an underlying musk that as he closed his eyes and breathed it in, made his prick stir deep within its sweet prison.

The girl lifted her fine boned face and gazed down at him, smiling gently. Her hand came up and tenderly, she brushed a lock of his tangled curls from the grey eyes.

Finn nuzzled into her palm, rubbing like a cat against its warmth.

"Sweetheart, what is your name?" he asked gently.

She smiled at him again, but then leaning, took his lips with her own cool lips, deepening the kiss, the small tongue licking the inside of his cheeks and tangling with his own. Her hips, pressed tight against him, moved slightly, rocking almost imperceptibly.

Finn groaned, and amazingly, felt his cock stir. Shrinking, it had slipped slightly from its sweet prison, and a heavy trickle of sperm and arousal squeezed out the side, trailing down her narrow thigh and dripping onto his already moist groin.

Pulling up slightly, the girl leaned back, and cupping her small breast, using her thumb and forefinger pinched the deep brown nipple.

Finn reared up and his lips captured the delicious teat, suckling strongly. The girl's hips moved strongly now, pushing against him, coaxing and rubbing against the thickening member. Finn groaned, his mind distracted, instinct and testosterone taking control. His big calloused hands came down hard on the small firm buttocks, cupping their warmth and rubbing a thumb along their flexing muscled abundance.

Finn's mind clouded, his senses fuddled by whiskey and lust. Oblivious to the sharp grains of sand, the tiny rocks scratching his back, he lay back. The pounding of the surf, the slap of the tide against the shore, became his heartbeat, even and monotonous, intense and elemental. His cock throbbing and stiff pushed up yet again into the tight wet folds, pushing, claiming, invading.

Again he groaned, his hands going to the narrow hips, moonlight blinding him, her pale face above, the black hair, silken and wild, snapping and falling in silken strands, tickling his face, tangling in his fingers as he almost cruelly grasped the narrow hips, pushing her down on him, hard, pushing up into her, hard.

His balls began to swell, filling with creamy cum, his seed, his brand, filling and swelling the hairy sacs as his throbbing prick thrust and pushed into the warm hot essence of her cunt. Keeping one hand grasping the narrow hips, claiming and controlling, his other hand went up to cup and squeeze the jiggling pale breast, twisting the fleshy tight nipple, pinching almost harshly.

Over the pounding of the surf, he heard her trilling, a deep thrumming which resonated in the small bay, matching the whistling of the wind, the far-off bark of sea creatures. The moon, huge and low in the horizon glowed, sending silver tendrils of light over the writhing figures.

Finn felt it building, felt his balls tightening then he heard her grunting, a harsh, elemental gasp and her narrow thighs tightened and suddenly Finn felt a hot rush of liquid spill onto his already soaked groin, trailing liquid fire down the matted bush at the base of his thrusting prick and making him yell as lust, elemental and pure, sent a bolt through his throbbing prick and he erupted.

He closed his eyes and grimaced, his face a rictus of lust, almost painful, as his prick began to spurt and empty itself into the hot sucking cunt, its tip spurting as the thick head was squeezed and contracted by her own orgasmic release.

It was as if they were in a symphony of release ... the pounding of the surf matching the frantic hammering of his heart, the throbbing contractions of her tight wet cunt matching the thumping metronome of his spurting prick, the feel of her warm and cold, cool and hot against his naked skin ... even the sharp prick of the beach under his back adding to the overload of emotion and feeling he was experiencing.

Gasping, Finn emptied himself within the precious darling.

As the contractions lessened, as his prick spat its last small emissions into her cunt, Finn's eyes closed. Reaching, blindly, he pulled her to him, pulling the silken head into the warmth of his neck, mingling his gasping breath with hers, cuddling her close.

Distantly, he listened to the lulling surf, the sound which sang to him each night and each morning, his lullaby and reassurance. Her body was warm against his chest, her sweet, taut thighs tight against his hips. He felt contentment and a great lassitude roll over him, the whiskey, the long day on the sea and now this incredible, unlooked for treasure combining to create a black wave of exhaustion. His prick, content and still semi stiff nestled in the tight warmth of her cunt while the sweet nubs of her soft breasts flattened against his chest. He heard her breath, soft and sweet against his neck and without awareness, drifted off to sleep.

_________________________

"Do ya think he might be dead?"

"Nah – but there's a nice wee worm there we can feed to the gulls".

Voices, harsh and lilting, humour and laughter tinting their strong accented dialect wormed their way into Finn's consciousness.

Fighting his way into consciousness, Finn tried to open gummy eyes, then groaned to laughter which resonated and crashed into his head as sunlight speared painfully into his hung over orbs.

"JAYSUS."

Rolling, Finn felt his back stinging, grimacing as salt spray from the surf which was just feet away from his naked feet sent pain lancing through its myriad scratches.

Again, he tried to open his eyes, succeeding this time despite the pain to squint around. Dougal and Connor stood above him, grinning wickedly as they contemplated their naked, battered friend, supine upon the beach.

Consciousness flooded back suddenly, and sitting up abruptly, Finn looked around frantically.

"Where is she gone? Did ye frighten her off??"

"Who, you crazy man?"

"My little beauty, my little dark queen? WHERE is she?"

Standing, Finn shaded his aching eyes and looked around the small confines of the Bay, his prick sticky and aching, dangling.

No one was to be seen.

Ignoring the quizzical looks, Finn made his way to the far end of the beach, where he had first seen her. The encroaching tide had obliterated any signs that might have been there earlier, and Finn felt frantic as he contemplated the reality that he didn't even have a name.

Rushing back, he gathered up his scattered clothes, ignoring the ribald comments of his friends and mind working, made his way up the rocky path to his cottage.

Garden Delight

2008-07-13T14:04:00.000-04:00

(written some time ago...)

She lay supine on the chaise lounge, her long Indian skirt draped about her.

She must not have heard his car, he thought idly, throwing his keys on his desk and removing his jacket. Glancing out, he watched her as she lay in the dappled shade of the sumacs, indolent and for once, resting. He was about to call to her when a little devil quieted his voice and he decided to see what she would do.

He grinned, as he watched her take a sip of water, then lazily insert her hand in the bodice of her gown. She pulled out first one breast, then the other, so they lay naked against her chest. The warm breeze gently caressed their soft tips, causing them to stiffen.

Dipping a finger in the water, she traced a cool, glistening path around the nipple, barely touching the tip, and causing her nipples to pucker between the touch and the cool soft water. Cupping her right breast, she closed her eyes and weighed its weight and shape, liking the way the soft underside curved into her palm.

Although gravity had taken its toll, she rather liked the result. Her breasts though not large, now had a pleasingly mature shape, with soft heavy undersides and full soft nipples.

She took both hands now and squeezed and gently massaged both breasts, pushing them together, pulling them apart, liking the way they rolled against each other, liking the way the soft, velvet flesh jiggled as she bounced them gently in her palms.

Looking down, she brought the two handfuls of flesh close together, so a deep cleavage suddenly appeared. She would have liked big, heavy breasts like that, she thought idly, although she wouldn't give up the sensation in her own for anyone.

Experimentally, with both hands she pinched her nipples, fairly firmly. A twinge of pain went through her, but stronger was the flash of pleasure which seemed to travel from her breasts to her cunt. She felt a twitch and her nether lips grew slippery with as moisture began to seep.

Letting her breasts go, she reached down and pulled her skirt up so that her entire lower body could be caressed by the cool evening breeze. Waning sunlight trailed through the leafy canopy above her, dappling the terra cotta tiles, striking radiance in the deep rich auburn of her thick hair and reflecting off her pale freckled skin.

She closed her eyes and savoured the naughty pleasure of being naked outdoors. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she pulled open her thighs so her entire cunt right down to her small, pink asshole was clearly exposed. It felt incredibly good, the breeze striking parts usually covered, the sense of exposing herself, although she knew she was well hidden here in her secret refuge.

She put her hand between her thighs and began to stroke her herself in long, firm movements, paying special attention to her clit.

Inside, he realized she had no idea he was watching. His breath had quickened as he watched her play with herself and almost unconsciously he realized he was rubbing the swelling front of his pants. His eyes glued to the sweet scenario outside his window, he unzipped his jeans, and fumbling slightly, pulled out his stiffening prick. His fingers ran up and down the thick shaft as he watched with bated breath.

Outside, Aoife took both hands and delicately, with two fingers, opened her cunt lips wide, exposing the red inner lips, her protruding clitoris and more importantly, her deep red hole.

She lay for a moment, feeling very aroused at the idea of being so exposed. Without even touching she felt her juice start to flow and actually felt a thin stream suddenly gush out of her cunt hole and trickle down the inside of her thigh to the plastic seat. Delicately, with one finger, she gently rubbed her finger in the slick juice, pushing the tip into her swollen hole.

Thoroughly aroused now, she let her cunt lips close and fumbled in the bag which lay beside her chaise. From it she pulled a large, thick dildo, realistic in appearance with a thick mushroom head, a gentle curve to its thick shaft and two bulging balls at the base.

Bringing it to her lips she pushed the fake cock against her mouth. Her mouth was small with a short upper lip and a very sensuous pouting lower lip and she struggled to push the big cock in.

Putting out a pink tongue she lapped delicately at the cock, wetting it. Then again she began to push it in. Stretching her lips as wide as possible she was finally able to insert the tip of the head.

Pushing she shoved another inch of thick cock in, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked. In and out she pushed it, pausing to lick up and down the plastic shaft then reinserting it. Her other hand went down and began to stroke and worry at her cunt, pulling the lips, flicking her clitoris, and finally shoving an impatient finger up her swollen, glistening cunt hole.

Taking the dildo she brought it down from her mouth. Her breasts jiggled as her breath caught and increased, and then sighing, she brought the cock down between her spread thighs, rubbing its wet, shiny head the length of her slit, coating it with the clear, thick juice which was soaking her cunt.

Inside his office, Ciaran was grasping his straining cock, rubbing frantically. Watching her play with herself when she didn't realize he was there was breathtakingly erotic. Although they often masturbated together, he had often wondered if she did things differently when it was just her. Now there she was, supremely unaware of his hot gaze.

Looking down he grinned at the swollen prick clasped in his hand – the uncircumcised head was purple and swollen, and a stringy viscous fluid was leaking from the slit at the tip. Cupping his balls, he gently squeezed them then grasping the thick base of his prick, squeezed hard. He didn't want to come too soon.

He returned his attention to the garden.

Outside, Aoife pushed the head of the dildo gently at the entrance to her tight swollen hole. It seemed too big and for a moment, she wasn't sure whether she could actually shove it in. But it felt so good and now her swollen cunt was slick and slippery. Rubbing the head of the dildo along her slit, she coated it and then again, pushed it against her cunt. A heavy wonderful feeling coursed through her groin and she could actually feel herself opening and closing. She desperately needed a stiff cock up her and was determined to feel that hard shaft stroking in and out.

In the house he watched the display, his cock protruding, red and stiff from between the buttons of his fly. He could see her pushing the big cock at her hole and willed her to shove it in. He stroked his own prick firmly, running his fingers down to the base, then up to the tip, using a finger to spread the pre-come juice which was dribbling out of the small hole.

He was charmed by the way she made love to herself. He loved watching how she played with her luscious titties, really liking the way she squeezed and fondled them but finding it incredibly exciting when she began to work that cock in and out of her cunt.

As he pulled at himself he was torn. He would have loved to be out there, shoving his own stiff, moist cock up that hot swollen hole but at the same time he was finding it incredibly exciting to see her trying to fuck herself

Oblivious, concentrating on shoving the big cock up her, she bit her lip as she pushed the cock at her hole. Suddenly, the big stiff head sank into her cunt. Groaning, she paused, savouring the sensation. Then as he watched, thighs trembling and spread wide, she began to push the cock further up. He could see the hood of the big fake head disappear up his wife's cunt, pushing aside the folds of her tight cunt. One inch of the hard, thick shaft, then two, then three began to ooze up the enveloping folds of her vagina. She didn't stop until 8 inches of thick hard cock was thrust up her.

The heavy, fake balls were all that remained in sight and he found himself stroking himself faster as he visualized the rest of that heavy cock shoved straight up her. He waited for, willed her, to pull it out so he could actually see her shove it up again, but instead, she left it for a moment.

It looked incredibly obscene. She lay her tits flopping out of her bodice, their nipples stiff and red, her skirt pulled up to her waist and her supple legs spread as wide as they could go, exposing her entire luscious cunt to his gaze. Her pale cunt lips gaped open as did the swollen folds of her inner lips. Even from where he was he could see where, at the tip of her cunt where her slit began, the normally small shy clitoris was erect and bright red.

Further down her cunt hole was stretched incredibly wide, engorged and straining to encompass the thick cock which was shoved up it. From his perspective, it looked almost painful but her breasts were swollen, the nipples turgid and erect and he knew that only happened when she was incredibly aroused.

He saw her reach into the bag beside her chair and pull out a smaller dildo with the thickish head she favoured. Bringing it to her lips he watched her close her eyes and indolently, deliciously, she sucked it, enjoying getting the entire little cock in her mouth. Thrusting it in and out, he watched as she pretended to have a cock fucking her sweet lips.

Then removing it, he almost groaned as she reached between her legs. This time she worked her hand below where the thick balls of the dildo protruded from her cunt and taking the smaller dildo pushed it against her small, tightly furled anus. The rubbery mouth of her anus resisted for a moment but she was persistent and suddenly the little cock slid into her ass. She wiggled her bottom, using gravity to push the little cock further up. Through the open window he heard her groan as the full length of the dildo slid up her tight fundament.

She sighed deeply, feeling incredibly gorged, full and stuffed, loving the feeling of having a stiff cock up her cunt and another up her ass. She worked the firm globes of her ass against the seat, shoving the dildo up as far as it would go.

He wanted her to fuck herself. While it was incredibly lovely to see those big stiff instruments up her cunt and ass, he wanted to see her push them in and out. To his delight, it was as if she heard him.

Putting her hand on the large cock, she gently tugged it out. Because it was so tightly slippered, it resisted initially. He could see the shaft glisten as it began to emerge from its warm prison. One inch, two, three, he was fascinated as the huge cock slowly re-emerged. Finally, just the bulging tip of the dildo remained in her.

Ciaran stifled a groan as with a shove, she thrust the entire cock up her again and then out, then in. Her asshole was plugged tight by the smaller dildo and she liked it that way. It felt wonderful to be flicking the stiff cock in and out of her hot, creaming hole.

She took her other hand and brought it up to her tits, which were bouncing and jiggling with the exertion of fucking herself Cupping one tit, she began to bounce it harder, liking the way the breast pulled away from her chest. Then she began to smack her tit lightly, then more firmly until inside he could actually hear the smack her hand made as she struck her swollen tit.

Soon he saw the pale freckled skin of her breast redden, the nipples turgid and swollen and now a bright crimson. He knew she was getting close, because the more aroused she got the rougher she liked her very sensitive breasts handled.

He felt his prick jump and swell even more, his hand stroking hard and long up its stiff swollen length as a sharp smack from outside left finger marks on the pale swollen breast.

Meanwhile, her other hand continued thrusting that big cock in and out of her hole, pausing occasionally to roughly finger her clit. He watched as her hips began to undulate, pushing her groin up against her hand, pushing that big glistening cock further up her swollen folds.

Cupping her breast, she roughly began fingering the nipple, pinching and pulling it.

Inside, fully dressed except for his large stiff red cock which was protruding obscenely from the buttoned fly, Ciaran felt the cum rising in his tightening balls. The purple head was bulging and glistening with pre-come juice and his hand worked at the shaft skilfully, pulling the skin up and down as he jacked himself off.

His eyes were glued to the stiff cock which was pushing in and out of his wife's cunt.

He saw her stiffen in the way she always did and he knew that she was ready to cum. His balls were already pulled tight against the hidden base of his penis, but seeing her face twist, he felt them tingle in preparation for shooting their contents up the thick shaft of his prick.

She groaned loudly and leaving her abused breast, she used her fingers to roughly pinch the swollen stiff clit which protruded now between the lips of her outer labia. Her other hand worked frantically shoving the stiff cock in and out of her glistening cunt hole and the small dildo which plugged her ass actually started to ooze out. With a finger, she shoved it right up her asshole, then taking the base of the larger dildo literally rammed it up her cunt. Holding the two stiff cocks tight to her groin she began to come.

He saw her tits twitch and a red flush suddenly spread across her chest. While he watched he saw her cunt lips tremble and the almost painful stretched mouth of her cunt began to pulse. He could see around the stiff base of the dildo her flesh opening and closing.

Groaning, he felt sensation overwhelm him, and pointing his prick he began to come. Sperm jetted out of the tip of his spasming penis, splatting on the desk in front of him and even splashing against the screen.

Holding his prick, he frantically grabbed an empty coffee cup and directed the spasming prick into the opening. Thick stringy jets of cum pulsated in long thick strings from the tip of his cock into the cup, pooling and settling at the bottom in a rich creamy froth. He worked his prick, emptying it of its bounty, relishing the look and sound of his hot cum pooling in the cup.

His legs trembled and his breath was short as he emptied the last of his ejaculate out of his throbbing cock.

Sighing, he looked outside where she lay, supine, recovering from her orgasm.

Grinning, leaving his now shrinking prick to lie flaccid and semi-turgid against his pants, he took the cup and slipped outside.

She didn't hear him as he quietly entered her secret abode, until suddenly, a hand caressed her cheek.

Startled she gave a little shriek, her eyes flashing open. A blush sufficed the pale skin but then she noted the glistening prick lying against his leg.

"You were watching!" she said laughing.

"Yes," he admitted.

"I was going to call to you then I couldn't resist."

Pushing one of her legs to the side, he sat, his prick beginning to droop. Dreamily he stroked her face and down her body, cupping the sweet breasts and then reaching between her legs, he rubbed the hot swollen cunt, admiring the feel of her with two stiff pricks thrust up her.

Taking a firm hold of the small dildo he worked it gently in and out of the tight asshole, then grasping the thick balls of the larger dildo he pulled it out. Her cunt hole gaped wide, its swollen folds red and enflamed and a thick stream of cunt juice dribbled out as he pulled out the cock.

The thick shaft of the dildo was literally soaked with her copious juice and creamy pools of her arousal decked the hard spongy top. Bringing it to his lips he sucked the thick dildo into his mouth, using his tongue to wash it clean of her. As he sucked the thick cock he understood why she liked to have something in her mouth like that as it felt really good.

Then taking it out, he threw it on the bag. She lay, her legs still straddled, her abused cunt stretched wide, red and swollen, the dildo still hard up her sweet ass.

He held the cup out to her.

She looked at him enquiringly.

Dipping his finger in, he scooped up a thick blob of still warm cum and carefully directed it towards her mouth. Involuntarily, the pink tongue flicked out and she lapped at his proffered finger. Slowly, sensuously he pushed his finger in her mouth and she cleaned it thoroughly.

Then taking the cup, he placed the cool lip of the china against her lower lip. Obediently, she opened her mouth and he tipped the cup. Thick ropes of still warm sperm slid down the slick surface of the cup and dripped into her mouth. She opened wide and her throat worked as her tongue scooped his cum into the warm cavern of her mouth. She swallowed and his flaccid prick twitched as he watched her drink his cum.

Taking the cup from him, her tongue worked busily as she licked up every sip of sperm on its surface. Then replete, she lay back, a bit of froth at the corner of her lips.

Absence

2008-07-05T14:45:00.000-04:00

The bed stretches away, sheets pristine and soft, a yawning expanse of space devoid of his presence, his scent trembling on the edge of consciousness, evoking an aching need and underlining the absence of warmth.

This space, this soft refuge has in many ways defined the reality of our lives. It is an escape, a joy, a definitive statement of the state of mind and emotions. It has witnessed the hot frantic couplings of a sensuality that has permeated our long intricate life together and conversely, seemed to widen and yawn in an abyss of loneliness when our bodies huddled apart, faces turned from each other, minds tangled and emotions raw.

I lie alone, the hum of the air conditioner providing a comforting white noise that embraces and calms and lulls me into a state of blankness that is innately meditative. Shadows etch intricate mandelas on the Parisian blue of the walls, flickering and moving as the blinds sway in the breeze from the fan, which sweeps lazily above my supine form, breathing cool air along the long expanse of flesh.

Still damp from my bath, water beads, swelling clear along ivory flesh, flecked with the golden glow of freckled kisses.

Eyes half closed, sleepy and relaxed, my mind moves lazily from one thought to another, and imagine as I lie there on our bed, his hands on me, trailing from the swelling of calf up over smooth thigh to the jut of hip and soft belly, up along the ribcage to the small mounds of upturned breasts.

I look down over the length of my body and gently cup one small breast, squeezing the soft mound until the pale freckled flesh flushes and the colourless, plump nipple blushes pink and tightens, the areola contracting and thrusting the tip into the cool air. I watch as my fingers tighten and feel my breath catch as the marks blush deep on the ivory flesh and the livid imprint of my fingers bloom slowly a pattern of want.

Releasing my captive breast, I relish the sting as the pressure lightens and the sweet, heavy weight falls back against my chest. Leaning, I pull his tee shirt close to face and breathe deep the tangy, sharp scent that is uniquely his. Emotions and memories tumble in a confusing morass of confusion in my mind, a kaleidoscope of thought and need, of hot grasping hands and tongue and the feel of him thrusting deep inside, pushing harshly against intimate parts, the feel of my body- resistant and struggling until I succumb, and allow him in,

The tee shirt is old and much washed, almost translucent with wear and comfort. He had taken it off just before he left, draping it over the pine footboard of the sleigh bed. I rub the shirt over my face, letting the soft material slip over the soft skin of cheek and brow, trailing across my lips and enticing with its scent, so personal, so unique to him and him alone.

His scent; pungent, tangy and intimate, composed of the fresh clean sweat of his body, mingling with the scent of his deodorant and unique dusky smell of his skin. My own scent mingles and entwines with the essence of his own scent and engenders in me an aching melancholy to feel his arms around me.

I trail his shirt across the aching tips of my breasts, sighing as its soft material caresses the blushing tips. I pull the front tight against one mound and exhale as the soft plump mound of my breast with its burgeoning nipple is outlined in soft pale translucent material. Reaching with my other hand, I gently take thumb and forefinger and gently at first, pinch. My breath catches and I pinch harder now, cruelly, crying out softly as the sensation arrows down through my body to throb between my legs.

Slowly, languidly, my body feeling fecund and swollen, I trail the tee shirt down my ribs and along my waist; then, as my breath comes quicker, audible over the humming comfort of the air conditioner, the fan sweeping cool air now against flesh growing heated, I trail it across my hips and allow it to fall between my spread thighs.

I am smooth, having shaved as I always do in a nightly ritual to keep myself fresh and soft for him. The shirt slips silkily between my thighs, catching for a moment on the silver rings and tugging ever so slightly, making me gasp. I raise my hips, holding one end of the shirt tight against the mound of my sex, the soft cloth pooling between the tight furled lips of my cunt. Reaching behind me I grasp the other end until like a sling, his shirt slips between my thighs, cupping and caressing the secret part of me.

I close my eyes and breathe deep.

I tighten my thighs and push my heels into the mattress, moaning very very lightly as I thrust gently against the line of material. The material tightens as I pull, front and back, and rub slowly the length from ass to mound. In the shadowed embrace of a room, I smell my musk wafting and twining with the scent of him as the material darkens with my secretions.

Eyes slitted, I look down the length of my body and watch as my breasts quiver and shake, soft flesh moving slowly, rippling, tips aching.

My hips flex and I trust a little harder against the material, my hands holding it firm, one hand resting just above my mound, the other below my hip towards the back. The material twists and dampens, and I can feel it rubbing against the sensitive bud of my ass. I push against it harder, feeling a deep, aching emptiness in the middle of my body, wanting, craving his hard length.

I close my eyes and drink in our mingled scents, breathing deeply as if it were solid the hot, wet musk of our bodies. I allow my mind to wander through a myriad of moments until it pauses and pulls into my body the scent and feel of that smooth throbbing vein just behind his balls. I allow memory to crash over me and take me with it in a tsunami of erotic thought the musky scent between his spread thighs, his balls tight and pulled up against his body, the slippery throbbing length of cock and the tangy pungent taste of sweat and secretions as I lick and lip that beautiful swollen vein and then widen lips and ever so gently suckle and pull until the sweet, swollen testicle is imprisoned in the warmth of my mouth.

I moan in the quiet room, the shadows dancing on blue walls washed with light spilling from between slitted blinds, the air conditioner thrumming a rhythmic pulse into my body, calling me to join in a dance of want and desire and lust.

I savour in my mind the feel of his warm flesh, lips so gentle, barely pulling, tongue caressing ever so softly, barely dusting with warmth and moisture and heat the delicate prize.

My hips move rhythmically now, pushing against the increasing dampness of material, lips swelling, their pale smooth flesh blushing pink then deeper, the deep pulling want of my emptiness craving, wanting, needing.

In my minds eye, I gently release the delicate orb and move up the throbbing delicious length of his cock, slippery with my saliva and the oozing clear liquid of his own want. His foreskin bulges around the swollen purple head of his cock, pulled down almost painfully away from the sensitive glans, slippery with secretions and desire. I run my tongue around the dripping need, sipping at the liquid which pools in its intricate folds then run my tongue up, narrowing it to delicately push into the winking need at the tip.

I pull harshly now at the teasing length of shirt between my legs, then pausing, I release my hold of it at my hips.

I sink back against the mattress, spreading my thighs wide and sighing, I grasp the now sodden material and push it against the aching need between my legs. I groan and balling the teeshirt, push a section deep within me, the swollen, needy folds sucking it eagerly, grasping, wanting something hard and long and hot.

I push more in, with fingers slippery with my own fluids and opening my eyes, I glance down and find the sight of his shirt pushed into me immensely arousing. Pushing my ass against the bed, I lever myself up slightly, the angle now allowing me to shove up more. I can feel the heavy fullness now in the front of my cunt, the pressing urgency of need coupled with a strong urge to pee.

My breath is harsh now, fast and shallow, my body throbbing and heated in the cooling breath of the room, the thrumming of fan and hum of air conditioner seeming to match the throb of body and blood coursing hot now through veins, turgid and aroused.

I look between my spread thighs, the sodden shirt spilling from me, the feel of its balled, soft material harsh, delicious in the yearning center of my being. My hand goes to the swollen bud which peaks now between the furled lips of my cunt. Spreading my fingers, pulling around it but not directly on it, I push and I pull, tilting my hips, pushing the material up against me.

I feel the building need, the almost uncomfortable pressure, my breath catches, I stop for a minute, breathing then sighing, release, moaning as pale, clear liquid spills out of me in rhythmic contractions, soaking the already damp material, wetting the bed beneath, providing a delicious relief. My hand works frantically between my thighs, taut now and trembling with effort, slipping and sliding as the hot fragrant fluid pours out of me, soaking me, my thighs glistening in the muted light of the room. A ribbon of sunlight licks at the pale flesh, reflecting a rainbow of colour for a moment as the hot fluid gushes out in a rhythmic stream and watching, feeling, I welcome it and it comes crashing and I grunt, gutturally, harshly as my world explodes and the contractions take me and I spill into the roaring river which sweeps me into its crashing embrace and tumbles me and pummels me and brings me slowly, eventually into a muttering, quiet estuary, peaceful, quiet.

I lie in the muted light of a waning afternoon and blink sleepily as the air conditioner hums and the fan sweeps cool air against my heated body, throbbing still but slowly quietening, calming…

My buttocks contract as the air cools and I shiver in the wet mess between my thighs. Sighing, I pull myself to sitting and gingerly grasping the sodden mess of his shirt, pull. Reluctantly, my body releases its prize, and my skin ripples and shivers as my still sensitive folds resonate as the material trails across their swollen red expanse. I pull myself with some effort to my feet and head to the cupboard to get fresh sheets. Pausing, I bring the shirt to my nose and breathe deep its warm, damp scent, mingled now with secretions of my own body and miss him with an aching need …

Want

2008-06-24T14:44:00.000-04:00

The feel of her nipple between his teeth, throbbing and swollen, the way which his mouth fastened around the pale areola and the soft sweet suckling made his prick ache. Her skin was so incredibly soft, silky yet warm and alive beneath the tight prison of his mouth, while the soft warm weight of her other breast in his right hand provided an almost unbearable overload of sensory input. Reflectively, he squeezed the small, plump handful and his prick quivered as he heard her small intake of breath. His eyes glazed, he released the nipple, and rolled back slightly to look at her.

She lay, green eyes slitted, full of a heat which promised and made things deep within him, tighten. Her arms were raised above her head, cuffs secured to a long chain attached to a hook in the ceiling, her long pale body open to his gaze. The deep red of her hair tumbled on the pillows behind her, curling in wild abandon, sparking crimson in the muted light, one long curl lying against the straining neck, its deep rich colour shimmering against the pale white skin. Her breasts gleamed, the nipples swollen and erect, a deep ruby, glistening from his mouth. The swell of rib swept down to the narrow hips, the sweet, mouth watering plumpness of her mons veneris, skin as soft and silky as elsewhere. The long shapely legs were spread sluttily and his eyes grew hot as he saw the sweet pouting lips, a duskier, pinker hue than the pale flesh surrounding them, the silver rings gleaming. Her eyes widened and moaning, she spread her legs wider and thrust her groin at him. Even from this angle, he could see her arousal, the inside of the firm thighs wet with her excitement. Unable to resist, he reached between the straining thighs and pushed one finger, slowly, carefully, up the swollen, glistening cunt, sighing as she seemed to suck him in, her warm engorged folds enfolding and tightening around the invading digit.

Pushing against her, he watched her face as he thrust his engorged prick against the skin of her hip, trailing viscous transparent fluid which left a glistening trail along the jut of her pelvis while he pushed a second finger deep inside her. She groaned and tried to move against him, her arms trembling.

Sighing, he pulled out his fingers and watching her, brought them to his mouth. He took a deep breath, drinking in the tart, piquant scent of her and then slowly, luxuriously, licked the glistening thickness of her arousal, his tongue curling around each digit and pulling in the hot, earthy taste of swollen cunt.

Rolling to his knees, he suddenly pushed between the straddled legs and braced himself over her, causing her to jump, her breath coming fast. His eyes bored into hers, heat meeting heat, searching the green of her eyes until her face flushed and her body quivered between his arms. Moving slightly, he wiggled his hips and smiled as she tore her gaze from his and looked down between their bodies, her eyes widening and frantic as she took in the red swollen cock trembling between her spread thighs.

Her long, supple legs swept around his calves and while her upper body twisted between his quivering arms on either side of her, she thrust her groin up, trying to push herself onto the delicious, swollen cock, climbing his calves, then his hips until he could feel the hot wetness of her open against him.

He flexed his legs slightly, making her lose her grip and laughed below his breath at her moan of frustration as her legs fell back against the mattress. Arching her back, she mutely offered him her quivering breasts, nipples engorged and swollen.

His eyes bored into hers, his hot green gaze searing lust into her eyes. Bracing himself, he teasingly lowered his hips, pushing the slippery rounded tip of himself against the opening. Mewling, she tried to push onto the long, thick hardness throbbing so frustratingly close between her spread thighs but her range of motion was severely restricted by the rope.

Slowly, almost painfully so, his hips flexed and began to push into her swollen, deep crimson folds and she sighed … her eyes closing as the hot hard length being to sink into her, pushing aside the clinging, moist flesh, her inner muscles tightening and pulling, her stomach tightening as deep inside her she felt the pulse of him as if her very skin could take him in.

Suddenly he was gone, the rich hot full feeling empty, and her eyes snapped open at the loss. Her shoulders flexed as she pulled herself up, her gaze going to him where he sat back against his heels. His prick rose turgid and swollen against his belly, a throbbing column of pale flesh, flushed with blood, its purple tip glistening with her own secretions. Beneath its heavy length, his balls, smooth and tight against his groin hung like succulent fruit.

She watched him mutely, only her eyes begging; smiling, he pushed himself up and crawling, began to move towards her, his body hot over the feverish flesh of her legs and belly. Eyes glued to the bobbing prick between his spread legs, she held her breath, anticipation suddenly making her groin tighten and pulse, and a sudden gush of moisture trickled from her swollen cunt to run glistening down her pale thighs.

Then he was there, right in front of her face. His knees straddled her against the jut of rib, pressing tight against the stretched underarm, his chest rising above her as he braced himself against the headboard, his prick trembling, its smooth shaft engorged and throbbing, right in front of her lips. Straining her neck, ignoring the ache in her suspend shoulders, she extended her pink tongue, trying to lick his cock.

His prick was long and thick, its normally pale delicate skin, engorged with his arousal, flushing pink while the rounded, purplish tip strained from the foreskin which had retracted to form a collar of scrumptious flesh just below its swollen, winking tip. She watched as a droplet of clear fluid welled up at the opening of his cock, the slit gaping slightly and then slowly trickled out, forming a glistening rivulet down the pulsing member.

Her mouth literally watered; she wanted that hard length in her mouth. She craved the thick cock pushing down her throat, the hot, tart taste of him, slippery and damp, the hard muscle beneath that incredibly delicate skin.

Her nostrils flared as she breathed in his scent, her eyes fluttering as unconsciously she made small sounds of want.

Leaning slightly, he steadied himself against the headboard and looking down, slowly pushed his cock toward the eager mouth until, sighing, he sank deep into the moist prison. The slight, almost imperceptible scrape of her teeth against the sensitive skin of his prick only added to his arousal and his breath hitched as he watched his cock stretch the small lips, finding it unbelievably erotic to see her expression, pained as her mouth widened to the point of pain as she fought to accommodate the swollen member, her lips curling under as she tried to cover her teeth.

He felt the spongy tip of his cock push against the back of her throat and grinned as he heard her gag then take in deep breaths through her nose, swallowing the reflex, forcing herself to relax, to push the urge to vomit back.

For a moment, he paused then his hips moved and there was a slight popping sound as he pulled his prick out, trailing a glistening string of saliva. She gulped a great breath of air, her eyes watering but glued to his throbbing prick. Before she could expel her breath he thrust back in, but she was prepared and breathing through her nose, her mouth fastened over him and welcomed the intrusion.

Keeping his eyes glued to the unbelievably erotic sight of his cock appearing and disappearing in that delicious mouth, he fucked her methodically and thoroughly. Reaching down with one hand, keeping the other braced for balance, he tangled his fingers in the tumbled hair, tightening his grip until the roots were knotted around his fingers.

Rhythmically, as he fucked the straining mouth, he pulled and her tears wetted and then spilled over as she felt the sting of her scalp. The feel of him, the smell of him, the hot wicked pain in her scalp all combined and she felt herself throbbing and swollen and open and moaned around her delicious mouthful of velvet prick.

Suddenly, he pulled back and she cried out, ignoring the sharp sting as she pulled away from his tangled fingers and tried to capture the glistening cock yet again in her mouth.

Sitting back slightly on his haunches, he watched her as she fought to contain herself, patient until her eyes, glazed and hot, had quietened, until the body imprisoned between his legs was still. She looked up at him, silent but her eyes begging. Smiling, he watched her as he reached between his legs and cupped the tight balls, cupping his palm and rolling them slightly, his prick bobbing, wet from a combination of her saliva and his own secretions which now dribbled in a sticky, slippery trail of pre-cum, coating the spongy, swollen head of his prick.

Then fastening his hand around his cock, he began to methodically masturbate, pulling the skin up and down the velvet muscled thickness, the sound of liquid squishing up as the foreskin covered the head loud in the silent room. Her eyes left his as if compelled and fastened on the sight of his working hand. Unaware of it, her pink tongue flicked out and licked her lips which were dry.

He sat back and liked the feel of her soft breasts against his buttocks and the feel of her against his dangling swollen balls.

Periodically, he would pause, and reaching back, thrust his fingers into the swollen cunt, throbbing and needy and wiggling, enjoyed the wet, slippery feel of her lust. He would push them in and out for a couple of seconds, then raising his glistening fingers to his nose would breathe her in and then take his cock in hand and begin pulling himself yet again.
Her eyes, glazed now with need and hot with a desire that left her tight and hot and wanting deep inside, were glued to his bobbing groin. She watched as his balls seemed to swell even further, the delicate skin tightening and then were pulled up tight between his legs.

He moved forward now, his hand more frantic, his breath harsh and unable to stop, her hips undulated and pushed against his spread legs, desperate for touch, her clit feeling almost painfully swollen, as if it would explode if even breathed upon.

His cock was deep crimson now, glistening in the muted light and the sound of the squishing, wet slithering of his hand pulling at it was unbelievably arousing. His hips moved in rhythm to his hand and he was there, right in front of her, close up. She made small mewling sounds unconsciously as she watched him pull and tug at his cock, knowing, wanting, needing what was coming, loving the hot swollen look of the head, purple and engorged.

Suddenly she heard his breath expel in a moan. Time seemed suspended as she watched his cock swell even further, the winking slit suddenly gaping and a hot stream of ejaculate erupted in a pale stream to drop onto her cheek, a hot glob trailing down the pale surface. Before she could react, a second rope of hot cum smacked against her face, dribbling tantalizing into the corner of her mouth. She opened her mouth wide and he directed the next stream onto her eager tongue, moaning as he saw the sticky string of cum pool in her mouth. Leaning back, he pumped his cock, moaning as each pulse sent another stream arching out to ooze on her face.

Unaware of it, his other hand reached out and he rubbed the hot pale cum into her face, then, cupping his own hand in front of his spasming prick, he watched as a pool of ejaculate was caught in his cupped palm. Leaning, he tilted his hand and moaned as the oozing cum dripped into her straining mouth.

His jerking prick began to calm as thrusting his fingers in her mouth, he allowed her to lick and suckle every drop of his essence. Pulling his fingers out, he pushed his hips forward, dangling his still dribbling cock above her tongue. Her lips fastened over it, pulling the still swollen cock into her mouth, her tongue sweeping up and around, licking up each droplet, then burrowing into the small slit and sipping delicately.

As he felt her suckle rhythmically, he leaned back slightly, his hand going between her legs, working at the swollen nub of her pleasure, relishing the feel of her mouth cleaning his cock, her hips thrusting against his busy hand until suddenly her back bowed and her groin pushed against his hand and he felt the first pulse of her orgasm shake and she cried out around the cock which was still deep within her mouth, deep down her throat, dribbling the last remnants of his cum down the eager throat.

For a few more seconds, his fingers worked around the nub of her clit, without touching it directly, until he felt her pull away and knew that her intense sensitivity was kicking in and straightening, he looked down, feeling her body jerking beneath his straddled legs, her face flushed and perspiring, her small mouth still working frantically at the now deflating prick between her lips.

A string of cum oozed down one cheek, while the deep silk of her hair was sticky near the hairline with another deposit. Her lips were swollen and red around his cock and a pool of cum had collected in the hollow of her throat. She looked deliciously used.

Gently, he reached up, pulling his shrinking cock out of her mouth in the process, and undid the catch and her arms, shaking, lowered to her chest. Carefully undoing the clasp that fastened her wrists with their cuffs together, her arms fell apart and he massaged her shoulders and the upper arm until sighing, she lay back, languid and satisfied, the green eyes blinkly sleepily up at him, sated and replete.

Rolling to one side, he gathered her in his arms, and kissed her sticky, flushed face gently, then his lips met hers and clung and his tongue tangled with hers and savoured the hot earthy taste of himself in her mouth.

Grinning, he pulled her close as he heard her breath grow even and then pause and smiling, allowed her to doze.

Debut .... cont'd

2008-06-09T10:43:00.000-04:00

Ignoring Bree, Damian strode to where the middle eastern girl was being led to the right hand cross. She was tiny, barely 5 foot yet with a luscious full figure. Heavy drooping breasts with large fleshy nipples, a tiny waist and full supple hips complemented the dark flashing eyes and heavy oiled black hair. As long as Bree's, Fazila's hair when loose swung straight and heavy to mid-thigh. Now, piled in an intricate knot upon her small aristocratic head, its heavy mass emphasized the delicacy of the long slender neck and sloping shoulders.

Her café-au-lait cream coloured skin was dense and thick and quite beautiful. Intricate henna tattoos decorated the long slender hands up to the wrist and down her swelling shapely calves.

Leading her to the cross, her keeper paused as he went to place her up against its polished surface. For the 6 ft Loki, the cross height had been perfect, for diminutive Fazila it was not going to work.

Striding to the cross, Damian bent and began to adjust the joists. When he designed the crosses, he had taken into account that the various individuals who would be tethered to their joints would be of varying heights and body types. After several false starts and a lot of thought he had come up with a very workable solution. The joist at the center of the large X could be tightened and loosened. Loosening it, Damian then bent to the foot of the X. Here he again loosened some bolts, and with only a whisper of sound, the one arm of the cross slid into its intricately carved foot. Carefully adjusting the other side, Damian slid that into its deceivingly innocuous foot and then, after ensuring they were even, tightened the bolts.

The entire alcove was in fact built on a raised dais which to most onlookers was not obvious. The intricate mosaic of the floor tangled the eye and few were aware that the crosses were in fact some distance above the main floor. This slight elevation allowed not only for the crosses to be adjusted to various heights, but also gave onlookers an unimpeded view of the floggings.

Leading the girl to the X, her keeper pulled her arms up, one by one, restraining them at both the elbow and the wrist. Carefully, he cupped one heavy breast which was slightly squashed against the wood surface and squeezing it, pulled it slightly to the side. He then did the same with the other. Now her pretty face was framed in the upper V while her drooping fleshy breasts were easily accessed. They looked quite delectable, their dark fleshy tips already stiff and elongated in the coolness of the conservatory. Fondly, he pinched a nipple between thumb and forefinger and squeezed.

Then bending, Fazila's keeper pulled her legs apart, winding the rubber cuffs around her slender ankles. Her fleshy buttocks were thrown into relief as her arms and legs were pulled apart and from the back the crimson slit of her cunt was visible as her stance pulled her heavily dark furred nether lips apart. Running an exploratory finger between her legs, her keeper pushed up into the swollen hole. Pulling out his finger, he turned and showed Damian its glistening surface. Fazila was already aroused.

Damian contemplated the little beauty for a moment. For such a small, delicate appearing young girl she had been remarkably resilient and he had already reported to her owner that she had definite masochist tendencies. A sadistic master would get much enjoyment from this slave but would have to exercise the greatest restraint in order not to permanently damage her. Fazila, Damian had reported, would most assuredly never use a safe word.

"Sir".

The voice was so slight and tentative, Damian almost missed it. Then he realized it was Fazila.

"What?" he said harshly, impatient to get on with it.

"I need to urinate," she said apologetically.

Damian frowned. His orders had been quite specific; the slaves were to be watered lightly in order to avoid this while enemas were administered just before their debut. Fazila's keeper blanched; he knew that his punishment would be harsh and severe. He wasn't quite sure where or when she had found the opportunity to find something to drink, but the little vixen had somehow done so.

Her eyes downcast, Fazila looked the epitome of submissiveness, embarrassed, sorrowful and frightened. Then with a quick upward glance which Damian just caught, he saw the gleam in her eye and knew she had done this deliberately, to ensure her punishment would be severe.

He stood, spare and dark, his leather gloved hand absently snapping a heavy flogger against his thigh while he contemplated his options.

Turning to the crowd, he explained his dilemma.

"Either I flog her at which point she will most likely piss all over the floor. Release her and allow her access to a bathroom or provide her with a receptacle."

There was some murmuring from the crowd, then a young man stepped forward. Slightly red-faced with excitement, he said tentatively.

"I could take care of it for her," he offered.

"Be the receptacle, that is." he said to clarify.

Damian looked coldly at him with his navy blue eyes, then nodded. Stumbling slightly, the boy hurried to the cross, and kneeling in front contemplated the luscious cunt which gaped in front of his bulging eyes.

Leaning forward, he opened his mouth and angling carefully, fastened his lips at the crux of Fazila's thighs. She squeaked as she felt his warm lips envelop her, and then sighed as his fleshy tongue probed between the thick lips, flicking at the already distended clit but concentrating on her urethra.

He waited.

Damian stood, a pulse jumping in his throat, then impatiently.

"If you need to piss, then DO IT."

Fazila ducked her head and closing her eyes, concentrated. Onlookers crowded around eagerly, their eyes fastened to where the boy had his mouth. Fazila's flat smooth stomach clenched, then relaxed and sighing, she allowed her urine to flow.

A stream of hot yellow piss flooded the boys mouth, and swallowing eagerly he drank the thick stream of golden nectar as fast as he could, eager to miss none of it. As the hot piss flooded down his throat, he fumbled at this fly. Unzipping, he fumbled inside while keeping his lips glued to Fazila's hairy grotto. Pulling out a long thin prick, already engorged and stiff, he began to rub its shaft harshly.

The boy choked slightly as Fazila pushed her streaming cunt harder upon his mouth, her restraints curtailing the range of motion of which she was capable. A spurt of piss hissed out of the side of the boy's mouth as she moved.

Moving his mouth quickly, the boy covered the hot liquid stream quickly. His hand worked quickly and suddenly, around his bulging lips he managed a wet groan. Thrusting his hips forward, his prick jerked and a thin stream of cum arched out to splash against the rich burnished limb of the cross. Rubbing his spasming prick and gulping as Fazila's hot piss faltered, then trailed off, he emptied his cock.

Fazila sighed and squeezing her muscles, expelled the last drop of hot urine against the boy's mouth. Rubbing her streaming slit against his tongue, she pushed her clit against his teeth. Replete, a thin yellow stream trailing down the side of his mouth, the boy moved back, rubbing his softening prick which trailed a sticky line of clear sperm along the floor.

Watching, Damian restrained a look of disgust. Motioning to a house slave, he indicated that she was to clean up the mess. Quickly, she did as she was instructed, using a damp cloth to mop up both the drops of urine and the sticky patches of sperm which spotted the floor and the leg of the cross. Taking a dry cloth from her apron, she quickly rubbed the shine back into the rich burnished wood.

Damian stood in front of Fazila and contemplated her impassively. Her doe like brown eyes captured his innocently before she modestly and most assuredly, falsely, dipped them and the wide, mobile mouth struggled to suppress a smile. The small tongue flickered out of the lush lips, as she anticipated the punishment to come.

Damian was quite aware that she expected and anticipated being treated harshly for her indiscretions, and he saw her avid glance at the tooled leather crop he slapped absently against his leather clad thigh.

Deciding, he called the keeper to his side and in a low voice issued instructions.

Nodding, the keeper scurried back to his charge and to her surprise, began to undo the restraints.

"What are you doing?" she asked anxiously.

"I have been extremely naughty. I am ready to take my punishment."

"Exactly." Damian said coldly.

"I do not allow bottoms to top nor slaves to dictate. You will be put in a cage until and when I decide. No whipping. No spanking. Nothing except extreme boredom and the opportunity to recognize who is Master here."

Pouting, Fazila was lead out of the alcove to the center of the room. There, the keeper pressed a button and a large, steel cage slowly lowered from the ceiling. Opening the door, he pushed his angry charge in. Because of her small stature, she could almost but not quite, stand. Kneeling, the keeper forced her to her knees against the hard iron bars of the floor, then taking her wrists with their leather cuffs, attached them to the ring at her wide leather collar. Her hands curled helplessly against her throat and without their support she was unable to push herself to stand but had to remain kneeling.

Clanging the door shut, the keeper locked it and then turning, pushed the bottom. Slowly, the cage rose to its position close to the ceiling. Above, Fazila could look and see all that was going on in the room but apart, she could not participate. Nor could she provide herself with any form of relief, as her awkward position prevented her from touching herself in any way. As the evening wore on, even her greedy capacity for pain would be challenged as her knees abraded, her muscles cramped and solitude (more agonizing because it was technically among so many) gripped her.

From where Bree stood, she could just see the bottom of the cage. Guests below were pointing and laughing at the sight of the full fleshy buttocks and the bunched knees. Then as if physically touched, Bree felt Damian's gaze capture and abrade her. Turning, she met his cold blue eyes and shivered. Within those frozen depths she sensed a flicker of madness, a flame of insanity which her sensitive spirit felt could be coaxed into a conflagration with very little effort.

Turning, her eyes sought through the crowd for her beloved, but he was nowhere to be seen.

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

Fiachra was at this moment in the library. He knew Damian's debut parties and knew too that the slaves would now be in the process of being whipped for the enjoyment of spectators. This final "introduction" not only underlined their position as creatures to be used but provided Damian with an opportunity to display his aptitude at this craft. Fiachra did not want to see his darling Bree abused any more. He had found it increasingly difficult over the past two weeks to see anyone else touch her with the intimacy he would rather have reserved for himself. He more than many knew the bond which could form between a top and bottom – the deep intensity of the experience reaching into one's soul and touching a part of the individual only hinted at in more mundane relationships.

Fiachra had thought himself impervious to the full intensity which could be engendered by such a relationship. While he had felt great tenderness and even become attached to a degree to some of his submissives, until Bree he had never really grasped the magnitude of the powerful relationship which could exist between a Master and his slave. With her, he had found himself plumbing a depth of emotion hitherto foreign to his taciturn nature. When she hung before him, that long beautiful back scored and marked with his sweet ministrations, the long legs parted, sweet nectar drooling down those taut thighs, the great eyes glazed and intense, capturing his gaze, naked in their adoration, he found himself swelling with a powerful, almost frightening emotional intensity that focused on this girl, his girl, his property, his slave. The awareness that this girl would allow him to do anything and everything he desired, in a moment, without hesitation and with no recourse or desire to desist or refuse was unbelievably powerful – elating him at the same time as it frightened.

Leaning forward, he absently thrust another log on the fire, his gaze inward as he contemplated newfound knowledge about his own motivations and desires. The past few weeks had been intense, almost painful but ultimately illuminating. He had, on the one hand, accepted the reality that Bree was his and his alone. That his former polymorous lifestyle was a thing of the past. Certainly, watching as she was used by others had not provided the usual fillip of pride in providing an admired candidate, but rather, it had engendered a possessiveness and jealousy he had never suspected existed within his solitary soul.

Fiachra started as someone cleared their throat.

"Sir."

A house slave stood quietly, small breasts bare, nipples rouged and stiff above the leather corset which cinched an impossibly tiny waist.

Fiachra searched his memory, then remembering, asked "Yes, Charlotte, what is it?"

"Sir, Bree is to be flogged."

The girl stood passively, eyes downcast in the approved fashion but Fiachra could sense anxiety rolling of her. (Unlike Bree, Fiachra thought fondly, who though compliant in many respects, refused to lower to eyes).

"And?"

"Sir," the girl hesitated, and remarkably for one of the impeccably trained House slaves, raised her eyes. "Sir, Damian...."

She stopped, agonized.

Fiachra's attention sharpened .... "Damian, what?"

It came out with a rush.

"He doesn't know I'm here – I'll probably get punished. But I like Bree She is kind and sweet and quite wonderful and I'm afraid for her."

"Afraid? How?"

"Sir, I've been a House slave here for several years. I have seen many come and go and even admired Damian's methods – he trained me as well – and he is harsh, yes, but always fair, always in control. I don't think he IS with Bree"

She raised her eyes to his again.

"I think he is going to seriously hurt her. Sir, you need to be there, you need to watch and protect her."

Fiachra was shocked. Although he had never particularly warmed to Damian, he had always admired the man's excellent methods and undeniable skills. He ran the House efficiently and professionally and on Fiachra's many visits here, he had only admiration for the manner in which Damian controlled every aspect of this fanciful haven.

"Why?"

"Because she is yours," Charlotte said simply.

"And because it is the first time he, any of us, has seen you totally enthralled, involved. He has always been jealous of you – he knows that we all want to be with you when you come – that we'll go happily, gladly, if you call but he knows too that he merely has to motion and we will return to him – we are ultimately his property.

"But Bree" the girl paused.

"Bree She is different – I've never seen such a submissive as she – I mean she does everything she is told, her pain tolerance is extremely high, her stoicism remarkable -outwardly, she is all that she should be."

Fiachra motioned for her to continue.

Licking dry lips, the girl continued.

"S is different. We all sensed that – and most of all Damian – even while she did what he demanded she was resisting – nothing overt , nothing obvious – but you could see him..." she faltered, then swallowing, continued.

"It drove him mad – we watched him physically try to hold onto his control – and I've never seen that – not ever".

"Tonight, well, tonight, in front of everyone – she was watching him, your Bree – she knows, she knows that it is going to be bad, maybe too bad, maybe too harsh ..."

Fiachra's mind churned. He thought back to the morning when he had lain beside Bree cupping her long firm body, her slender arms stretched up and attached with cuffs to the headboard. Sunlight drifted in lazy swirls though the casement window, dappling the pale white skin, glowing on the golden freckles and sparking fire in the shining, sherry coloured hair which spilled along his arm.

Turning, her sweet honest gaze met his, filled with love, the great green depths shining and glistening as tears welled up. Leaning, he had delicately licked the salty tribute with a gentle tongue, trailing butterfly kisses along the sweet line of jaw and meeting the clinging lips with a tenderness he had never thought to feel.

"What is it, my love," he asked gently, sensing in his beloved a deep despair.

"My dearest love."

Fiachra had had to lean closer to hear the whispered words.

"Tell me, sweet pet." he said gently.

Bree looked up into Fiachra's concerned eyes. Her heart literally felt as if it would burst. He was her all. As hard as the past few weeks had been, she would not wish away one single second, one moment because each of those moments meant she was showing Fiachra that she would absolutely do anything, suffer any indignity, tolerate any pain to convince him of her single hearted fidelity and adoration. Each welt, each bruise, each time she was invaded, plundered, raped and literally brought to her knees, she was bringing him her complete and utter submission.

Fiachra reached up and gently unlocked the cuffs. Bree winced then schooled her face as her muscles protested at their long inaction. Gently, Fiachra massaged her arms and shoulders.

"What is bothering you, my dearest heart?" Fiachra asked as he ran strong fingers along the back of her shoulders.

Bree was silent. She had almost confessed to her beloved Fiachra that she was frightened, that she wanted to stop this all now. The past several sessions with Damian had convinced her beyond any doubt that he was quiet simply, losing his mind. Sensitive in the true manner of the ultimate submissive, Bree could intuitively discern what a dominant's soul was saying – so much so that Fiachra often called her his sorceress as she would quite often anticipate his desires even before he realized he wanted something.

With Damian, she sensed a strain so intense that she could almost physically feel the battle within him as his rational mind fought with his insanity. Tonight's debut would, she felt strongly, see the culmination of that battle, and her Irish soul and uncanny ability to sense the outcome told her clearly how that would play out – and for her, it meant disaster.

But looking into her beloved's eyes, his strong hands rubbing feeling back into her sore limbs, she realized that she couldn't tell him that. He trusted her, her judgment, her ability to know her limits – but to pull out now, when it was almost over ... she could not, would not, do that to her Fiachra

Resolved, Bree smiled up into his eyes, her arms sliding up around his shoulders.

"Nothing, darling Master, just nerves about my debut."

Fiachra had accepted her answer, preoccupied with planning their departure first thing in the morning. Distracted, he hadn't pursued what he had sensed was not being said.

Now, as he stood in the library, he cursed himself.

Turning to Charlotte, he motioned for her to lead. He had sensed how disturbed his beloved Bree had been this morning and done nothing; that was going to change.

The Debut

2008-06-03T10:59:00.000-04:00

First http://boundselkie.blogspot.com/2008/04/highway-exposure.html, then http://boundselkie.blogspot.com/2008/05/debut-another-chapter.html

Finally - Debut the Next

The crowd parted as Lydia led the now leashed Bree through their ranks. Her great eyes met no-one's but turned inward as Bree hugged to herself Fiachra's parting kiss, his unspoken promise which she believed with every fibre of her being. Unconsciously, she straightened her strong shoulders, the small breasts lifting, their tips crimson and stiff. Oblivious to the admiring comments which drifted around her, she glided with long shapely legs after her diminutive keeper, her gait measured and strong.

Across the room, Damian watched her progression with narrowed eyes; impassive, his face did not betray the hot acid which roiled in his stomach. Even from his vantage point, he could see the marks of his art upon the long curved back of the slave – what was not obvious was the fact that despite his best efforts last night she had refused to submit. Oh, not physically – no, in the flesh Bree had done as she was told – stood where she was placed, spread those beautiful legs when commanded, even held those pretty breasts in her own palms when he chose to whip them. But those eyes .... not once did he see real submission in their defiant gaze.

Yet, with a simple kiss, he had just watched her capitulate ... happily, completely, wholly – and to a man who had placed her in this position in the first place. A man who had handed her over to be used at will and without recourse. A man who through his long association with The House knew exactly what he was exposing her too – knew too that Damian's own particular brand of sadism could elicit submission from even the most defiant of individuals – knew that Damian had been known to break spirits, crush and destroy autonomy and at the same time elicit the most exquisite of surrenders. A graduate of The House (who inextricably bore Damian's signature) was treasured and sought after world-wide – but what they were not known for was an ability to retain any semblance of individuality or personal choice.

And now, two weeks after being handed over to his ministrations, Damian was almost ready for the first time in his long and most illustrious career to admit to failure.

Even watching Bree as she passively allowed herself to be handled and abused, he could sense that strong inner spirit standing firm and untouched.

Taking a deep breath, Damian tightened his grip on the leather handle of the flogger. Nodding to the slave who watched his face attentively, he strode through the crowd towards his trainees as the slave ran to get the rest of the implements.

Lydia had reached the St. Andrews Crosses which were placed in a large alcove at the back of the room. Built specifically to accommodate their impressive size, the alcove was almost entirely composed of glass. Octangular in shape, the three crosses were placed equidistant from each other in a semicircle. Thus, when fully utilized, the slaves tethered to their strong arms had a full and unimpeded view of what was awaiting them as each was clearly visible to the other. Above, the dark sky pressed against the glass ceiling, stars blinking frostily in a tapestry of madness in the muted light. Gas flames flickered in the sconces lining the walls, lending an eerie light to the scene.

The crosses were not standard fare but had been crafted and built by Damian himself. Unlike the workaday models in the basement, whose utilitarian nature were obvious, the ones in the drawing room were built as working showpieces. Damian had chosen mahogany and lovingly and carefully cut and polished each piece until the dark red wood had blazed with depth and richness. At the center joist he had chosen burnished steel, worked carefully in the smithy which lay in the quadrangle at the back of The House, using his in-depth knowledge of ironwork to form his own distinct pattern. The iron tethers were riveted at various intervals on the arms and legs of the great cross to allow for the greatest leeway as well as the most creativity in how the bottoms were to be restrained. These also bore Damian's unique signature – the leather of the cuffs attached to the rings was supple and incredibly, deceivingly soft, masking the steel which lay at the center. Damian did not believe in permanently marking slaves (with the exception of administering a brand) but saw no point in etching permanent scars when smooth lovely skin could so pleasingly be marked time and again.

Unlike many of his ilk, Damian eschewed the more brutal and outward manifestations of his trade, preferring finesse and subtle, psychological coercion to brute force. But he understood the psychology of his lifestyle and did not discount the theatrical elements which often provided a fillip of excitement to many participants. And, because he was a perfectionist, Damian had to give his very best to whatever task he undertook. In the end, he had entered into the creation of the crosses with enthusiasm and been pleased with the end result.

Now, in the cavernous glittering expanse of the alcove, the crosses gleamed with a rich glow, reflecting the flickering flames in the sconces. A small red leather cushion was placed at the foot of each.

The keepers led their three charges, one to each cross. There were three tonight. A very handsome male slave brought in by a very experienced domme from San Francisco, a young coffee coloured submissive provided by a epicurean from the Middle East and Bree

The male sub brought in by Mistress Lau just a week earlier, was the first to be cuffed. A noted and respected historian, Mistress Lau had a penchant for gladiators, as the Ancient Roman Empire was her chosen field. Like Roman matrons of old, she made excellent use of her "gladiators" – remaining true to historical accuracy as gladiators were indeed slaves and in order to achieve any measure of happiness in life were devoted to their aristocratic mistresses. Gladiatorial sweat and sperm was at one point highly prized as an antidote to infertility and ancient roman aristocratics would often bribe the centurions guarding the gladiators to allow them unfettered access to their favourites.

In a charming nod to this tradition, all of Mistress Lau's subjects were garbed in historically accurate (but slightly altered) versions of ancient dress. Loki, the slave now being cuffed to the left-hand cross, was no exception. His slender feet were encased in flat sandals, with strings which crisscrossed the muscular calves to his knees. Around his chest a stylized leather harness enhanced the flat, rippling stomach and strong shaven chest and allowed his muscular arms freedom of movement. A thick leather belt encircled the taut waist and emphasized the sweet firm sweep of buttock. Below, the heavy prick and full balls swung free.

Loki's waving blond hair was worn longer than would have been the norm during that time period in the Roman empire, but Mistress Lau preferred to have something to tangle her fingers in and tug. Around the strong column of his neck, a heavy studded leather collar with a small silver tag clearly proclaimed his status.

Loki's keeper pulled up and out the slave's muscular arms, securing them at the wrist to the cross. Kicking the slave's legs apart, his keeper bent to wind the leather thongs around the slave's ankles.

Spread-eagled, pressed against the cross, Loki's head was positioned between the V at the top while his heavy prick dangled just beneath the crux. Stepping back, his keeper admired the luscious sight of his charge completely and utterly helpless. He had tied the wrists securely and a slight trembling in the shoulder blades showed that the strain on Loki's joints was very real. The spread of cross at the bottom meant onlookers had an excellent view not just of the firm buttocks, their tight sweet flesh taut and pulled slightly apart but of the heavy prick which dangled enticingly between the spread legs, drooping below the heavy bag.

Loki trembled slightly, his eyes beneath the blindfold moving frantically. He recognized the feel of his restraint, having been cuffed to similar crosses many times before, but the past week had left him nervous and ill prepared for any more surprises.

He had agreed to further training in The House at the command of his Mistress who he adored but She had chosen (unlike Fiachra) to absent Herself from The House during his training and he was feeling Her absence cruelly. Also, while he enjoyed pain when inflicted by Her beloved hand, what he had undergone in the past week was beyond anything in his experience.

Now, restrained, still aching from the previous evening's rigorous training, he understood that this, his debut, would require the greatest effort on his part to maintain decorum and make his Mistress proud. But, hanging here, helpless, sore and afraid, he felt horribly bereft.

Loki jumped as a soft hand caressed his buttocks, trailing fingers over the slightly raised welts which marred the otherwise smooth surface. Flinching, Loki fought to remain still. A finger probed firmly between the slightly gaping cheeks, pushing gently but insistently into the tight furled rose of his ass, which already ached from several days of being spread with a plug to increase comfortable access. Against his back, Loki felt the warmth of soft breasts press against his sensitive skin and relaxed slightly. Although he had participated in male on male play before, it was only at his Mistress's insistence, his own preference being unequivocally heterosexual.

Warm breath trailed along his knotted shoulder blade and a beloved, remembered scent filled his senses.

"Mistress!" he cried joyously.

"My lovely boy," She purred into his ear.

"Damian tells me you have been a very good and obedient boy. I am very pleased."

Loki shivered with delight, his bruises forgotten, the travails of the past week dismissed. She was happy! His goddess was pleased with him and he glowed. Now, whatever happened was irrelevant, his beloved Lady was in charity with him, She was close to him and if the gods allowed, he would be with Her tonight.

Although difficult, Loki stood taller, his muscles flexing, the firm buttocks clenching. Leaning his head back, he allowed his tousled blond hair to trail along his shoulder blades. Happily, he felt his Mistress tangle Her beloved fingers in its abundance and tug. Like a puppy, Loki wiggled.

"Damian will administer the flogging, but because you have been such an excellent student, I shall provide the reward myself." His Mistress said into his ear.

Loki was beside himself. Had the earth moved and swallowed him at this moment, he would be happy. He felt the warmth of his beloved leave his back but his senses, intensified by loss of sight, sensed Her moving around the cross. Turning sightless eyes down, he felt Her beloved presence directly in front.

Loki's heavy penis thickened and began to stiffen at the thought of his Mistress watching him. Then he felt Her firm hand cupping his balls and groaned as She rolled them expertly in long fingers. Pinching the soft globular flesh, feeling the firm egg shaped matter at the centre, Mistress Lau squeezed. Loki whimpered, his prick jerking and thickening as She released them and then began to slap his balls rhythmically and firmly.

Because he was concentrating on the feel of his Mistress cupping and abusing his most delicate flesh, Loki jumped at the first blow of the leather thong. Light as a whisper, the supple tongues of the tooled leather flogger flittered along the flesh of his back, barely touching, hinting a promise of what was to come. Again it came, a sweet supple caress of flesh, the steel tipped fronds barely stinging. Below, his Mistress caressed the heavy drooping balls, then ran expert fingers along the pale thickening shaft of her slave.

Damian stood tall and dark around 4 feet from his victim. In his hand the leather tooled flogger was a an art form as he expertly plied it against the sensitive skin of the slave's back, trailing sweet trails of heat from the shoulder blades down to the firm buttocks. Almost imperceptibly, he began to stroke harder, patterning an intricate quilting of colour and texture along the human canvas.

Keeping in rhythm with Damian, Mistress Lau manipulated and deliciously tortured the now throbbing member of her slave, pausing to admire the thick pale shaft, the purple head and to cup the balls which now began to tighten.

Loki, his eyes useless behind the blindfold calmed as the familiar feel of the whip caressed him. His mind flitted and then quietened as sensation flooded through the nerves of his body from the tip of his neck to the sweet, intense ache in his prick. Onlookers murmured appreciatively as the straining arms quietened, then drooped, the slave now held up almost entirely by the restraints which bound him to the cross. Sweetly, his body a mass of sensation, Loki slipped into sub-space.

Sensing his capitulation, Damian tightened his grip. A whistle and suddenly sensation flamed along Loki's back as Damian snapped the flogger, its long tongues flicking hard and quick just beneath the shoulder blades. Loki gasped, as even deep within his quiet mind he felt the leather tongues licking at his already abraded flesh with abandon, nerve endings waking and protesting. Deep within his psyche, endorphins began to pump, flooding his body and subtly exerting their siren call to his soul. Pain became pleasure and sighing, the slave sank deeper.

Again, Damian's strong hand wielded the flogger expertly, this time striking the fleshy buttocks, raising a lovely welt which bloomed pink as the sibilant whisper of the tongues fed at Loki's flesh.

Loki groaned, exquisite pain flaring along his spine as Damian brought the flogger down on the fleshy pads just below his shoulders. Needle play the night before had left that area extremely sensitive. Gasping, he felt a soft mouth envelop his stiffening penis. Unbelievably, he realized his Mistress was herself sucking his lowly prick!

For a moment, pulled from his special deep reverie, Loki almost panicked. Although Mistress had occasionally been inclined to suckle his very unworthy cock, the occasions were far and few between and often did not include him actually coming. But the combination of the harsh flogging against his back and buttocks, the feel of his Mistress's tongue against the aching shaft of his penis and the knowledge that onlookers were taking this all in served to create an unbearable excitement within him.

His cock was throbbing and felt as stiff as the iron bar which lay cold against his belly. Unconsciously, he flexed his back, clenching the muscles as he heard the whistle of the flogger cut the air behind him.

Loki's breath stopped for a moment as Mistress deep throated him, the spongy tip of his prick tickling the back of Her beloved throat. Helplessly, he felt precum oozing from the purpled tip to drip upon Her tongue while deep within his testicles he felt an explosion simmering.

He waited, his attention torn between waiting for the next blow to strike his back and the unbelievably erotic feel of his Mistress' mouth now moving up and down his engorged shaft.

Suddenly, ,without warning, a sharp, stinging pain exploded down his spine and he realized that Damian had changed tactics. He wasn't sure what he was being whipped with, but the pain was immediate and dramatic and quite wonderful and Loki's entire body stiffened as his brain signalled its distress and exploded endorphins into his body.

A collective sigh arose from the onlookers who crowded around the first of the slaves to be whipped. The skin of the boy's back bloomed a deep pink, criss crossed by minute slender threads of crimson. In front, the boy's domme sat on the small footstool, her lips enveloping the long thick white shaft of his penis, Her fingers cupping and squeezing the heavy, tight balls.

Damian stood, straight and dark at the boy's back, approximately 3 feet behind him. In his leather gloved hand was a dressage riding crop, deceivingly simple, the stock long and slender and the actual whip a mere 6 inches. With an experienced hand, Damian brought the crop down on the boy's buttocks yet again, a thin red line blossomed, then slowly, deepened as ruby red blood welled up slowly. Again he brought the whip down and then again, a pattern slowly emerging, a criss-cross of diamonds, equidistant and equal in size.

Turning slightly, adjusting his angle, he swept the crop up between the outstretched legs, barely stinging the sensitive delicate skin of the perineum.

Loki groaned as he felt the kiss of the whip between his thighs. Helplessly, he felt his balls pull deep into his groin. His back and buttocks flamed hot, the cool air of the alcove intensifying the sensation of heat. His prick throbbed and ached, its long thick shaft first cool then unbelievably warm as his beloved Mistress slid Her luscious lips down its throbbing length.

"Mistress," he gasped, "I don't know if I can control myself!"

Loki's Mistress controlled when he was allowed to cum and now, when She was so pleased with him, he was miserably afraid he was going to anger Her.

"You may cum," she said, purring.

Hearing those beloved words, at the same moment Loki felt Damian's expert hand wield the crop yet again and along his inner thighs he felt the sweet drip of blood. Yelling, he felt the cum boil up and surge through the thick heavy shaft of his cock to explode in a long salty stream into his Mistress' mouth. Expertly, Mistress Lau drank Her slave's essence, Her tongue teasing at the slit of the spongy tip as his throbbing prick jerked and spat its load into Her willing mouth.

A collective gasp rose from the crowd as they watched Loki's prick jerk and spurt while the crimson pattern on his back and buttocks bloomed and bled minute drips, creating a canvass both captivating and frightening.

From her vantage point, to the right of Loki, standing beside the center cross, Bree could see his mouth working and his body writhing. She had watched as Damian whipped him savagely and marvelled at how Loki seemed to drink it in; not just tolerating but accepting and desiring it. She had watched as his Mistress enveloped the thick prick in Her mouth and recognized the expert manipulation of this experienced domme as She forever linked in Her slave's mind, pain and unbelievable pleasure.

Outwardly calm, Bree felt her insides twist as she wondered if she was next. Swallowing, she closed her eyes and sought comfort in deep within, summoning her beloved's face, conjuring up the feel of his sweet hands and the touch of his lips. Calmer, she opened her eyes and met Damian's burning gaze.

He stood directly in front of her, the whip hanging loosely from his leather clad hand, his long spare figure gaunt and yet strangely compelling. His eyes were a deep almost navy blue, cold and intense and Bree felt as if her own green orbs were being cut with needles as she silently fought to keep calm. Outwardly successful, forcing her gaze to remain unwavering and calm, inside her chest she felt her heart thumping wildly and knew that a telltale pulse jumped at her throat.

His eyes still locked on hers, Damian motioned to the waiting house slaves to remove Loki, who exhausted and depleted, sagged against his restraints. Carefully, the two men gently untethered the almost unconscious slave, supporting the dead weight and then carefully placing him face down on the waiting gurney.

Mistress Lau stood, a red tongue flicking out to sip at the drops of cum which had escaped from between the red lips. Like a cat, her tongue lapped and stretching with feline grace, she yawned, showing tiny straight teeth and a pink throat, shiny with the remnants of sperm.

Striding to the gurney, she ran long crimson tipped fingers along her slave's leaking back, flicking blood droplets and purring as she gently felt the welts. A conscientious Mistress, she motioned to the slaves to follow as she preferred to do all after-care herself.
Despite her agitation, Bree managed to remain still, the telltale pulse the only sign that she was disturbed. Passively, she awaited a sign that she was to be tethered next.

Instead, Damian allowed his gaze to falter and turning, commanded the pretty middle-eastern girl to be restrained against the cross to the right.

Bree swallowed, at once relieved and anguished. Her turn was yet to come and a part of her was ready and she would have it done and over with. She had no illusions. A perceptive and insightful woman (a trait common to the rarest and most prized of submissives), she knew that somehow Damian had developed an obsession with her. Over the past two weeks, she had had ample opportunity to watch his obsession take root and grow and knew with a certainty which bordered on fright, that he was very close to stepping beyond the line of what was acceptable, even in their very distinctive lifestyle.

Watching the savagery with which he had disciplined Loki, she sensed a dangerous imbalance in his usual stoic mien and marvelled that only she seemed to sense the scent of madness.

Regardless, her course was set. Sighing and closing her eyes, she garnered the inner reserves which had served her well during that past two weeks and straightening, prepared to meet her fate.

Debut - another chapter

2008-05-28T06:28:00.000-04:00

On ongoing series of stories I write about Fiachra and Bree.

Fiachra sat, comfortably ensconced in a wingback chair to the right of the fireplace. At his feet, a rather lovely slave leaned against his legs, running her long slender fingers softly along the inside of his leg up to his thigh. Dark hair, swept up severely from a fine brow and narrow face, large lustrous strands falling in artful disarray across one slender shoulder. Almond shaped eyes, tip tilted, lent an exotic air to the fine boned features, the only anomaly a pouting mobile mouth. A thick leather collar encircled the slender neck; narrow leather straps attached with silver rings swept down and cupped the full, plump breasts, their dark nipples stiff. A scrap of material cupped the underside of the heavy breasts, supporting their weight and offering them as if on a platter. A gauzy underskirt barely masked the voluptuous figure of the slave, the dark triangle at the apex of her thighs silkily obvious through its folds.

Fiachra kept up a desultory conversation with the rather striking domme who sat in an identical chair to the left of the fire. Her tall spare figure was severely garbed in a long leather skirt, split to the thigh and her long lovely legs, encased to the thigh in supple leather boots with 4-inch stilettos rested on the lap of her sub, a stalwart lad with blond curls who rested a handsome head against his mistress's warm thigh. Absently, the domme would rub her foot against the bulge of the boy's leather clad groin and Fiachra grinned inwardly as the boy's face would redden, then pale as his prick would stiffen and then squeezed in a steel cock ring, subside.

Glancing about the room casually, Fiachra masked his inward amusement at the spectacle of his fellow devotees and their attendants. Settling himself more comfortably in the chair, an exact replica of one described in many of the novels about 22B Baker Street, he found it in himself to be grateful his sense of irony hadn't entirely deserted him.

As much as he loved the lifestyle he had adopted many years before, his strong sense of practicality and reality often intruded on the somewhat fanciful world he inhabited. While many adopted the trappings with ease, immersing themselves in fantasy, Fiachra's clear gaze was unable to entirely sublimate the absurdity of some of the outward manifestations.

The room was quite crowded as this, the second Saturday of each month always provided good entertainment as Damian usually introduced new submissives to the group as part of their training. Glancing about the room, Fiachra noted that the numbers of doms and dommes were fairly evenly matched, with the edge perhaps in favour of the females. Male submissives and slaves, for some reason, were far more numerous than a true heterosexual submissive female and many doms searched for years before finding a compatible sub he wished to keep.

Outwardly, Fiachra was calm, his mobile face serene, the green eyes relaxed. Inside, he felt remarkably nervous, his stomach churning. He knew Bree was being introduced tonight and despite having seen her used by several others at this point, this would be the first truly public display of his possession and he was equal parts proud and apprehensive. That secret part of him that few knew existed caused him great anguish as he contemplated seeing his beloved Bree fucked by other cocks. He had found out much about himself over the past several weeks, and had had to continually reassess his own limits and search deep within himself to ascertain what his true desires demanded. He was, at this point, having seen his darling flogged, spanked, used and abused, conversant with his real desires and that was that once her training was complete, he would take Bree away. He realized, being painfully honest with himself, that he harboured real regrets over the course he had chosen – that had he know how difficult it would be to see her humiliated he might have chosen differently. Yet, an introspective man, painfully honest with himself, he recognized too that as much as it bothered him to see Bree abused, that part of him that made him what he was relished it and found it immensely arousing.

The course was set and knowing that so many others were going to see his Bree used definitely provided a fillip of excitement that he had been missing in his life. Putting his hand down, he tangled it in the dark curls of the slave, pulling slightly so that she sighed and hung her head. Leaning over, he cupped a heavy breast, contemplating its swelling richness with a rather absent air, then fingering the hard nipples felt his prick stir. Pressing the breast into his hand, the slave ran her hand up his thigh to cup the growing bulge. Fiachra pinched the stiff nipple between his fingers, hard, then suddenly, with no warning, smacked it and admired the way the plump expanse jiggled, the mark of his hand livid against its pale flesh. Sighing, the slave merely leaned into his punishing fingers, her breath coming faster.

A stir at the front of the room distracted him, and dropping the plump breast, Fiachra looked up. The ornate doors opened and the trainees entered, their keepers leading them by silver leads attached to the leather collars encircling their necks.

Ignoring the others, Fiachra's eyes fastened avidly on his darling. She looked, he thought relieved, quite marvellous. Tall and slender, her magnificent hair was pulled up in a complicated riot of curls, baring the long neck which looked obscenely vulnerable in its thick leather collar. Despite all that she had undergone in the past two weeks, Bree stood tall and proud, resigned but unbroken, her shoulders squared and proud, the small plump breasts tip tilted, their long pink nipples stiff, thrown into relief by the fact that her arms were cuffed behind her. The long slender torso and narrow hips were naked except for a simple leather harness that encircled but bared those pretty breasts and clasped the narrow hips, straps running down to circle each thigh but leaving the smooth shaved pudendum open. Her marvellous long shapely legs with their taut thighs and swelling calves were one of Bree's best feature and showed to advantage in gartered pale stockings and knee length stiletto boots. The contrast of the boots and stockings against her nakedness was provocative and shocking and immensely arousing. Judging from the reactions, Fiachra knew he wasn't the only one who found it captivating.

Bree was most assuredly the most captivating trainee among the three that entered and for that Fiachra was thankful.

As he watched, Lydia tugged at the lead, thus turning Bree so that her back faced him. He felt his prick jerk and swell as he saw the marks of her flogging the night before clear upon the pale, delicate skin of her back. Long welts criss crossed the expanse of flesh in an expert pattern and grudgingly Fiachra admitted to himself that Damian's hand with the whip was second to none. Not once did he see where the sting of the crop had struck twice.

The smooth, taut cheeks of Bree's bottom were crimson and narrowing his gaze, Fiachra could see that there were even one or two drops of blood, a thin rivulet which trickled down the keep furrow between. He felt an avaricious desire to go to her and run his finger along that hot red ass, to put his finger to the thin trickle of blood and then sip its sweet nectar.

He became aware that the slave at his feet was rubbing his stiffening prick through the cloth of his pants. Pushing slightly into the expert fingers, he pulled back, then charged her to desist. Standing, he indicated the slave was to follow him and he began to make his way across the room.

****

As Bree came into the room, she felt her heart beating frantically and wondered if whoever was there could see its throbbing beneath her chest . She prayed that outwardly her agitation was not obvious; she would be mortified if others saw her fear. Her eyes blindfolded, she stumbled slightly as Lydia guided her through the crowd, an experienced hand using the leash which was clipped to Bree's collar to guide her.

Beneath the blindfold, Bree’s eyes moved frantically. She could hear voices and felt around her the crush of people, scents and voices mingling and confusing. Her other senses had become hyper aware when her vision was taken and she was astonished at how much she could surmise without her eyes. Without her vision, she couldn't know for certain but she felt, strongly, the room was crowded. She could feel the warmth from many bodies, while her hearing was acute and could make out the murmur of many voices over the low music.

The pale skin of her arms flinched as fingers trailed along her shoulder blade. Bree steeled herself as the fingers came down and cupped her breast, squeezing and feeling the weight of that sweet morsel of flesh. She stood quietly as she had been told as yet another pair of hands seized the other breast, less gently than the one that now clasped and cupped her left breast. The new hands squeezed hard, making her stifle a groan as they cruelly twisted the small breast, seizing then pinching the nipple.

Then shockingly, she felt a hand probing between her legs, pushing a finger between the smooth, slippery lips and without any preliminaries, pushing up her tight passage. Behind she felt the warmth of another body and then the unmistakable feel of a moist prick rubbing between the taut cheeks of her ass.

Her breath quickened and she consciously worked at slowing her panting, forcing herself to try to relax as the stiff prick rubbed a dribbling head up and down the furrow of her buttocks. The other hand pushed several fingers up her cunt, rubbing the sides and pushing open the swollen folds almost painfully.

"Has she been fisted?" a male voice asked her, the owner of the fingers now rubbing the swollen folds of her cunt.

"No, sir," Lydia answered respectfully.

"Sir John said that was to be done in public for the first time. This one has a problem with public display."

Bree stifled a scream as the hand twisting her breast suddenly smacked it. She felt the soft flesh quivering and a hot flush spread over her body.

Behind her she felt the owner of the stiff prick probing at the tight furled rose of her asshole. Unable to prevent herself, she clenched her buttocks.

"I thought you said she had anal training?" a voice asked.

"She has - but she still has to get used to others using her at will."

Bree whimpered under her breath, her heart pounding as she heard her lover's voice. She yearned to throw herself into his arms, to have him caress her and hold her and tell her she was safe. But here she stood, a willing sacrificial lamb, an innocent to slaughter because to do less or different would mean that she would lose him. Despite what she had undergone in the past several days, Bree would deal with that and more. What she could not deal with was a life without D in it, a life devoid then of hope and passion, empty of meaning or desire.

She sensed him beside her, the fine pale hair of her forearms rising as she sensed his beloved presence. She realized then that no matter what they did, no matter how they restrained her, treated her, she would tolerate all of it and more as long as he continued to desire her and want her and love her.

She felt his hands, so familiar, so beloved on her face, caressing the tight line of her jaw, running a finger gently along her nose and probing the small mouth. Gratefully, she licked the proffered finger, sucking it gently between her lips.

He laughed, gently then removing his hand, she felt him move behind her.

He pushed slightly in the small of her back. Obediently, she leaned forward slightly, feeling her buttocks flare out. Trembling, she felt him part the taut cheeks, his finger probing at the tight anus. Between her legs, a gush of fluid trickled from the swollen folds to snake a glistening trail down her thigh.

Fiachra pushed a finger into the deep red folds, wetting his finger. Then back to the buttocks, pushing gently, insistently against the furled rose. Sighing, she surrendered, relaxing her clenched muscles and the probing finger sank to the first knuckle in the deep hole.

Bree felt Fiachra pull it out, then murmuring and she sensed him move away. Suddenly, harshly, the spongy head of a prick slipped the tip into her tight hole. Gasping, she involuntarily began to clench, then cried out as a hand smacked down on her cheek.

Hard hands grasped her hips and pulled them harshly back against a heavy groin, and she felt the unmistakable sponginess of a fat belly. Then, shockingly, a heavy prick pushed against her unprepared ass, pushing aside tight folds, causing tiny nicks which trailed minute trails of blood.

Breathing heavily, the man behind her pushed his stiff moist prick firmly, determined to sheath it in her tight fundament. His fingers dug into her narrow hips as he brutally thrust up into her, then began to push in and out, ignoring her moans, intent on fucking the tight ass as hard and as much as he chose. Precum, leaking from the tip of the heavy, invading prick thankfully began to provide a little lubrication.

Trembling, Bree forced herself to stand as quietly as possible, exerting a tremendous sense of control; wanting to pull away, get away from the cock that was now violating her but wanting more to make Fiachra proud of her – wanting him to know that no matter how she felt, she was doing this as he wanted her to – that she would take this rape and deal with it and not cry out or complain.

Fiachra stood to one side, his face expressionless, and watched his beloved get roughly probed by a thick prick. Her small breasts jiggled and jumped as the heavy, florid faced dom behind her thrust his prick harshly in and out, relishing the feel of the tight passageway, liking the sensation of scraping that sent exquisite tremors into his throbbing prick. Bree's glorious red hair was pulled up and away from her slender neck which looked obscenely vulnerable circled as it was by the tooled leather collar. Snaking out from beneath the blindfold, Fiachra saw glistening tracks as Bree wept silently. His heart swelled as he saw her courage, proud of her and thankful she was so committed.

An introspective man, Fiachra probed inwardly, trying to identify the emotions which threatened to break his usual stoicism. He realized ruefully that what he felt was a combination of pride, lust and possessiveness. He enjoyed watching his possession being used – that seeing her fucked roughly and thoroughly didn't bother him as much as he would like, but made his own prick throb.

Bree gave a little moan as she felt fingers at her breast again. Her bottom was flaming, the entrance burning and sore and yet the prick still kept thrusting. A hand grabbed her breast roughly and cupping it firmly began to smack it rhytmically, timing the slaps to the thrusting of the prick into her violated hole. Despite herself, Bree began to grow wet, her clit to swell.

Her world was black, made up of sensation and sound, the murmuring of voices in the room, the slapping of her ass against a hairy groin, the sweet crack of a hand against her soft breast and the swelling which began to gather, like a tide, deep within.

"Look at those nipples!" said the voice beside her, no doubt the owner of the slapping hand.

"Yes," she heard her beloved say. "Her nipples are quite extraordinary."

Fiachra watched as his friend, Robert, continued slapping the soft breast. He admired the finger marks which showed lividly against the pale flesh, the nipples crimson and extended. Robert moved to the front and began to smack both breasts, relishing the jiggle and the pull but loving most of all the reddening flesh, the livid bruises which were already beginning to form.

Bree's delicate, pale Irish skin was ideal for this. Fiachra had requested that no permanent marks be inflicted as he had a fondness for the smoothness of her lightly freckled white flesh but had agreed that it was quite provocative and enjoyable to see how well her body displayed the mark of the whip and the hand.

Behind, the dom's breathing quickened, his protruding belly shaking as he shoved his thick prick in and out of the impossibly narrow passage. Still not properly lubricated, the thick stem scraped against the sensitive sides of her anus, causing minute nicks and tiny pinpricks of blood.

Fiachra looked and could see the big prick swelling even more, the heavy balls taut and drawn up into the hairy groin. He couldn't help but admit that the sight of the heavy stem thrusting into and out of that slender ass was enticing.

The dom's hand came down hard on the flexed buttock, smacking it painfully and despite herself, Bree cried out. Grinning at the faces which were avidly watching their coupling, he smacked her already flushed ass again, this time with a harshness that immediately raised swollen welts. Despite herself, Bree cried out.

Hearing her cry of pain, the man groaned and pulling the slender hips tight against him, thrust his prick as far up as he could manage. Closing his eyes, he leaned forward as much as he could over his own swollen belly and grunted as his prick swelled even more then began to spasm, spurting into the tight passageway.

Bree felt hot jets of cum scalding her sore bottom. Painfully, but determined, she pushed her violated buttocks back against the man's groin, ensuring that all the sperm was emptied into her body. Breathing heavily, spasmodically, the dom thrust once, then twice, bringing a heavy hand down on her buttocks each time while Robert increased the intensity of his slaps against her small breasts. Shouting, the dom emptied his prick.

For a moment, panting heavily, the rapist leaned against the slender girl, his belly shaking as he tried to catch his breath. Then grinning as a few jokesters clapped, he pulled his shrinking prick from the tight anus, still dribbling sticky thick sperm which trailed a glistening trail against the crimson of her abused ass.

Without being asked, Lydia released Bree's lead, kneeling in front of the man, she took the reeking prick in her mouth where she carefully and thoroughly licked it clean, running an experienced tongue along its softening length and paying particular attention to the spongy tip. Absently, the dom scratched his belly while Lydia attended to him, and turning to his friend said, "She's a good tight fuck – want to try her?"

Grinning, his friend went over to where Bree stood, legs trembling, ass crimson. Pushing her forward slightly, he pried apart the tight crimson buttocks and then poked a finger in the slightly gaping hole which dribbled sperm over his questing finger.

"I'm not fucking her up there until she's washed," he said laughing.

"I'm not a fan of sloppy seconds."

"But ...."

Grabbing Bree' lead he jerked her around, almost causing her to fall off her pointed heels.

Tugging the lead harshly, he pulled her to her knees.

Bree heard a zipper and obediently opened her mouth. A moment later, a long slender prick pushed into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat and causing her to gag. Breathing through her nose, she regained her equilibrium and closing her lips around the stem began to suckle.

Fiachra stood to one side and felt as if his prick was going to explode. He watched as Bree obediently sucked the prick which was now thrusting in and out of her sweet mouth. Saliva wetted its pale length while from his vantage point, Fiachra could see the long, wrinkled ball sac banging against her chin.

The owner of that prick tangled his hands in the red curls, grasping her ears and pulling her tight in and out against his groin. He particularly liked shoving the long prick straight down the back of her throat.

His breath quickened. The girl was good, he conceded, not once pulling away but accepting what he chose to mete out. Looking down he found it immensely provocative to watch the white stem of his prick disappear to his groin, in the small mouth, her red curls dishevelled, the eyes blind behind the black blindfold.

Watching his friend fuck that tight ass had already brought him to a fever pitch of arousal. Grunting under his breath, he watched avidly as he fucked that sweet mouth, feeling his sperm boiling in his balls, which tightened now and pulled up into his groin. Then sighing, he shoved his prick in as deep as he could, feeling the red tip tickle the back of her throat and ensuring that its whole length was buried in that hot mouth, felt a delirious pleasure as his prick began to pulsate, sending long streams of cum straight down the back of her throat.

Holding her head tight against his groin, he emptied his prick.

Fiachra watched the long slender column of Bree's throat contract and expand as she frantically tired to swallow the hot sperm which was now being pumped down her throat. Coughing slightly, breathing hard through her nose, she gulped, her hands spasming as locked behind her, they sought to grasp the hips which even now pumped its load in her mouth.

Although tightly plugged by the prick, from the corners of Bree's small mouth a thin stream of pale sperm suddenly spurted, one trailing a glistening rivulet down her chin, the other actually striking the man's groin.

Laughing, the man pulled his still jerking prick from the warm prison of the sub's mouth, the crimson tip dribbling. A young slave next to him dropped to her knees and cleaned him thoroughly with her own sweet mouth, ensuring to lick the blob of sperm which stained his hip.

"Look at that." he said, indicating the spot. "She'll have to be punished for that."

Reaching, he went to grasp the end of the lead still held in Lydia's hand.

Fiachra stopped him.

"Just a minute – you can have her in a second."

Fiachra walked to where Bree still knelt, tears tracking a silver trail down the pale cheeks. Reaching behind, he undid the fastenings holding the blindfold tight.

Bree blinked, her eyes blind in the sudden light, their deep limped depths awash in tears, giving them an otherworldly radiance that caused some of the spectators to gasp with admiration. As if by instinct, still somewhat blinded she turned her gaze to Fiachra

Green eyes met green eyes in a moment that for that second shut out the room around them.

Fiachra's, grass green and sharp captured and tangled with the paler green gaze of his love, entangling, enchanting and enthralling all over again her bruised heart.

In his gaze he tried to convey his pride, his happiness with her submission and obedience, his absolute delight in her. She, heart beating wildly as she met her beloved's gaze, poured her soul out in a soft radiant acceptance of her fate which she handed to him, freely, joyfully and without limitation.

Smiling, Fiachra leaned closer and brushed his lips gossamer soft over the sperm daubed lips of his love.

Without saying a word, the two understood each other. Leaning close, Fiachra whispered in the sweet ear, murmurings of love, of pride, of happiness and told her quietly, he would be with her later.

Meeting his eyes once again, her heart slowing yet her soul soaring, Bree gave her gentle smile and felt in herself an acceptance which to this point had been grudging, almost forced. She realized that while she had allowed her body to be used, her mind to be manipulated, her soul had been kept sacrosanct and apart. With that wild green gaze, she gave that too to her love and bowing her head accepted her fate.

She felt a jerk at her neck, and struggling to retain her dignity, managed to gracefully find her feet. Obediently she followed the tug of the leash.

His Naughty Pet

2008-05-21T10:43:00.001-04:00

Selkie's hand shook as she poured the glass of wine, ruby drops splattering onto the burnished wood of the table. Giggling, she glanced at her girlfriend who rolled her eyes then handed her own glass to be filled.

Selkie knew that she really shouldn't be having this, what? third glass? fourth? She wasn't sure and she sure as hell didn't care. She knew D. would not be pleased – he had been quite clear that she should maintain decorum, keep sober and not party too much on her visit to her old home. D. knew what she was like when she had a few too many – throwing caution to the wind.

But life was good, the wine was fine, a piquant cabernet sauvignon, a smoky blackberry, overlaid with a fruity dry feel that tickled the palette and slid down her long throat very easily. After a long drive and a busy afternoon, sorting out her mum's business, she had been happy to see her old friend and to kick back metaphorically and put her feet up.

She had an even busier day coming up, meetings and filing and doing all the small repairs her mum was unable to keep up with since her dad died.

"Let's go out!"

Bev's voice interrupted her flow of thought.

"Up to the Manoir, then down to the Topaz!"

Selkie grinned. Sounded like a plan to her! Glancing at the clock on the wall, she saw the night was still young. She didn't have to check in with D. until midnight – he had sent her with "gifts" for her sister – a state of the art webcam and microphone – intended, she well knew to allow him full access to his pet should he feel so inclined. He had been very clear that she was to check in at 12, at which point he would decide what services he wished.

After calling a taxi, Selkie and Bev swung out the door, long legs flashing. The friends had planned to go out for dinner before they got distracted by good wine and catching up, so both were dressed for company. Bev's ebony hair swung loose around her fine boned face, her large brown eyes merry and happy, her figure as tall, lean and lovely as when they were girls. Always the more conservative of the two, her pink sweater nonetheless hugged her large firm breasts and emphasized the narrow waist and hips.

She had made some rather backhanded comments on greeting Selkie – indicating that this pet's manner of dressing might be a little inappropriate for a woman of 40+. A tight leather black skirt, slit to the thigh, garters and fuck me shoes, a lace camisole which emphasized the creaminess of the small firm breasts and of course, her collar which she never took off. A 2 inch finely tooled leather band, it encircled the pet's slender neck, a silver tag with a stylized D/s engraved on its surface.

Selkie always got a kick out of people's reactions on seeing her collar – for those in the know there was that narrowing of eyes, the sweep up her long, lovely body, assessing the submissive on her merits. To the vanilla population it was slightly outrageous and something atavistic would stir in even the most conservative of minds at the sight of ownership on a female throat – whether it was recognized as that or not. For the bolder ones who asked, puzzled, what the D/s stood for, Selkie would adopt a surprised air – "our initials of course!" she would answer merrily.

D.'s pet was expected to keep herself in top form and four demanding astanga yoga classes a week together with commuting by bike when weather permitted and nightly runs on the treadmill if it was inclement had honed and enriched her figure to an enviable shape. Tall, lean with narrow hips, small firm breasts with large, plump delectable nipples and gorgeous shapely legs, well muscled and strong, Selkie had the added advantage of a full rich head of burnished auburn curls and huge green eyes. Her pale Irish skin, creamy and lightly freckled was virtually unmarked by the vicissitudes of time, a lifetime aversion of the sun now paying off in tight, firm, smooth skin, the faint lines bracketing her large clear eyes and smiling mouth simply adding character to an already intriguing face.

Grinning at each other, pumped and feeling like kids, the two women jumped in the waiting taxi.

________________________________________

It was many hours later that a very tired, inebriated and flirtatious pet stumbled back into her mother's home. Giggling, she tried to be quiet, shushing herself loudly then laughing at her own meanderings. Looking at the clock, she was astonished and a little perturbed to see it was now almost 4 in the morning – long past when she should have checked in with D. Wine, clouding her mind, befuddling her movements, made her shrug – she would make it up to him tomorrow.

She and Bev had had a ball – drinking and dancing the night away, their feminine pride stroked and confirmed with the horde of men that couldn't resist two sexy, happy ladies.

With the room spinning, one rather drunk pet fell onto her bed, long legs akimbo, breasts tumbling out of the low neckline of the camisole.

"Oh GOD."

Sunlight, cruel and intrusive stabbed through Selkie's head as she opened sleep gummed eyes. Her stomach roiling, she felt a sick taste in the back of her throat and swallowing, fought to keep the contents of her stomach from erupting.

Turning away from the awful light, she buried her face in the pillow, running a hand gently along her flat belly, trying to soothe the demons which were attempting to claw their way out.

"Oh GOD – D!"

Snapping up, Selkie immediately regretted her movement. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to make out the time on the clock radio beside her bed.

"Crap, crap, crap – it's 10:15 – oh CHRIST, he's going to be so pissed!"

Scrambling out of bed, ignoring a heaving stomach and aching head, she shot up to the computer, a hurried hello to her mum in passing.

Swearing under her breath, she quickly brought up her email:

"BAD pet:

I am most seriously displeased! I can guess where you were last night as I know you planned on seeing Bev.

As you are presently at your mother's to actually perform some tasks, I won't insist on your punishment until your return.

When you get back, I will expect you at the earliest opportunity, to strip naked, take the largest vibrator we have and press it firmly – that is FIRMLY against your clit. I will expect you to massage your clit, never removing the vibrator for a full 10 minutes.

I will, of course, expect you to videotape the entire punishment.

The most crucial part of this punishment is you are not – under any circumstances – to cum.

I will be in touch.

D."

Grimacing, Selkie tried to reply but soon found D. had blocked her.

The next few days seemed very long to a very contrite pet.

________________________

Selkie set up the video camera – D. had made sure that she was not only conversant but adept at manipulating the camera as he would often makes explicit requests of her – to be videoed and studied later by himself.

It was early afternoon, and sunlight streamed through the high window, lending a warm glow to the deep blue of the walls and sending tendrils of light to spark and tangle in the crimson fire of her hair. Their room was furnished primarily with soft, honey coloured pine including a four poster bed (most suitable for restraints), a large wardrobe and a mutual dresser.

Sighing, not looking forward to her punishment, Selkie girded herself metaphorically and with one motion, threw the light peignoir open, allowing its peach silk to slide off smooth shoulders.

Perfumed, shaved, pale Irish skin smoothed and creamed, she stood in front of the camera, turning slowly so her Master could inspect her.

Burnished curls tumbled over broad, pale shoulders, just touching the upper side of the small, plump breasts, their delicate pink nipples puffy and tip tilted. Beneath their sweet weight, her waist was taut, leading to narrow hips. Her long, very shapely, well toned legs and long narrow feet were privately considered by her to be her best features. The tooled collar around her neck was her only adornment with the exception of the small silver rings which glinted and winked between her legs.

The plump, smooth mound of her sex lay exposed and vulnerable, the tip of her cleft just visible, the rings obscenely obvious and incongruous. Turning, she swept her hair up off, allowing the long curving symphony of sweet lines and curves leading to the small, firm buttocks to be seen.

Kneeling on the bed, Selkie fumbled in the bedside drawer, pulling out a rather large vibrator, furled and bulging.

She had the camera set up so she could watch on the TV screen what she was actually filming – a remote clutched in hand gave her some control over the angles as well as the ability to zoom in or out.

Focusing the remote, she aimed the camera straight at her naked body. Leaning slightly against the tumbled pillows, Selkie pulled up her knees and planted her feet several feet apart.

On the screen she saw her long pink slit fully exposed – the lips tightly furled, and the glint of her piercings barely obvious. Her pussy was actually quite pretty – with long slender lips, smooth and hairless, pale against the deeper pink of her slit.

Staring into the screen as if it were D.'s eyes, she opened her legs further, spreading her cunt open for his enjoyment.

As she had been taught, she delicately grasped the small silver rings which pierced her outer labia on either side of her small, hidden clit. Carefully, she pulled open the lips, exposing the hooded mystery of her pleasure and the glistening inner labia and tight pink hole.

Then, releasing the rings and biting her lip, Selkie placed the vibrator between her nether lips, pushing them apart with its rubber head. Jumping, she felt the head touch her small, shy clit.

Looking up and grimacing, clenching her jaw in anticipation, Selkie turned on the vibrator.

"OUCH!"

Powerful and intrusive, the vibrating dildo sent shock waves through her entire vulva. The sensitive nerve endings in her clitoris protested, sending spears of pain radiating from its maligned tip up through her groin. Selkie's clit – and her nipples – were incredibly sensitive. Like a fine instrument, D. knew how to coax and tenderly awake her for to play his Selkie right meant that her unusual sensitivity, if handled right, would turn from one extreme to the other – and his pet when played correctly would wallow in extremes of sensation that few submissives could tolerate.

But now, unaroused, her clit protested. Turning the timer she had placed beside the bed to 10 minutes, Selkie set her jaw, keeping a determined hand on the vibrating instrument of torture.

Three minutes ... god it felt like 20 ....

She looked at the screen, trying to distract herself from the pain radiating now in concentric circles from her abused clit down to her firm ass. Restlessly, she squirmed, being careful to keep the vibrator directly on what was normally the apex of her pleasure.

5 minutes ...

Tears sprang unbidden to the huge green eyes. Welling up, Selkie turned her pale face to the screen.

"It hurts, master, really hurts," she said plaintively.

Selkie's breath began to shorten and she began to pant without realizing it as she struggled to retain her composure and complete her punishment. Teeth clenched, tears trailing a glistening trail down her pale cheek, she tried to concentrate.

The pain was only increasing, her entire groin aching and sore but worst of all, her clit felt like it was on fire. Pinching and hot, the vibrating head of the dildo sent shock waves through her crotch, and she had to consciously force her hand to keep the instrument of torture pressed against it.

"Fuck!

Tears spurting, Selkie snatched the vibrator away. Looking at the timer she saw she was 2.5 minute short of completing her punishment.

Trembling, oblivious now to the camera whose winking eye drank in every movement, she spread her legs and looked down.

Her clit burned, a tiny angry bristling piece of abused flesh, stiff and tight, poking now between the lips of her cunt. Normally, pale and delicately pink, Selkie's clit when aroused would swell and turn a deep, rich crimson. But now, abused and angry, it was narrow and shrivelled almost, its colour an angry brick red.

Careful not to jar her poor abused crotch, Selkie carefully got up from the bed, keeping her taut thighs wide so the silver rings, now glinting in the sunlight and sending sparks of silvery liquid fire into the muted dusky blue of the room were glaringly obvious.

Walking almost comically, she hobbled to the camera and turned it off.

Then with her sweet plump buttocks flexing, she made it to the bathroom where she wet a soft cloth, squeezing out the water and leaving the cloth warm. Back in the bedroom, crawling up on the bed, she sighed, as the soft warm cloth soothed the burning agony of her abused cunt.

For half an hour, changing the cloth twice, Selkie sought to calm the pain. Slowly, her clit began to subside, the angry colour fading and the swollen painful length subsiding once again to nestle shyly between her plump labia.

Then sighing, Selkie got up, turning on the camera yet again.

"Master, - that just didn't work – I'm truly sorry – I just couldn't handle it."

"So I'm going to try it a different way."

"You told me I wasn't to cum – that I was to keep the vibrator on my clit for the full 10 minutes. But you didn't tell me I couldn't become aroused!"

Selkie grinned, her green eyes dancing and her sense of humour reasserting itself.

"So, Master, this is what I am going to do...."

Selkie lay back against the tumbled pillows against the headboard of the bed. Heavy lidded and sensuous, she turned her luscious gaze to the camera – imagining it was her Master standing there, not an inanimate instrument.

Cupping the small pale breasts and keeping her gaze straight into the lens, Selkie began to squeeze and compress her plump breasts, being careful to avoid the swollen plump nipples. Leaning back, she half closed her eyes, revelling in the feel of her breasts being caressed and moulded, running soft fingers up and down the swelling at the sides, flicking a nail against the sensitive underside.

Still cupping one breast, she focused again the camera.

"I'm going to touch my cunt now, Master, your cunt, the one you like to thrust your cock in."

"Watch."

Spreading her thighs very wide, Selkie's cunt gaped open, the deep red hole clearly visible and the inner labia's pale flesh starting to flush and plump out.

"Do you see it Master? My cunt hole?"

Suiting action to words, her one hand now squeezing the small breast even harder, pink finger marks springing up on its pale surface, Selkie leaned over with her other hand. Stiffening her long fingers, she watched intently as she pushed them right up her own warm folds.

Sighing, eyes closing, she sank them deep, wiggling them slightly to feel the resistance against the hard digits.

"Oh god, it feels good Master, not as good as your stiff prick, but good."

"Do you want me to fuck myself, Master? With my fingers?"

Selkie's breath began to shorten as she began to push her stiff fingers in and out of the gaping cunt hole. She glanced up at the camera, her eyes hooded, just the green glow showing her increasing arousal.

The thought that her beloved D. would be watching this later – watching her naked and wanton, her fingers pushing in and out of her own cunt, one hand squeezing and pinching the soft full breast made her unbelievably hot.

In the pale golden silence of the room, Selkie's breath came quicker and the sound of moist, slick squishing was clear.

"Selkie likes this, Master, it feels good to push something hard up my cunt."

On her breast, Selkie's fingers went unbidden to the now stiffening nipple. Normally, a delicate almost translucent pink, the areole almost flesh coloured, as her arousal grew, her plump nipples hardened and the colour flushed crimson to the surface.

Leaning back, pulling her fingers, now glistening from the sucking folds of her cunt, Selkie looked straight into the camera.

"Look at my titties, Master, look!"

Cupping her breasts, she offered them to her lord. Swollen now, plump and firm, her nipples were engorged and swollen. Plucking the tips, Selkie pinched them sharply.

"Wouldn't you like to pinch them, Master, pull them and twist them? You know your Selkie would love that ... shall I put on my clamps, my dear sir?"

Leaning over, her breasts jiggling, Selkie reached into the drawer, pulling out two weighted clamps, a slender chain connecting them.

Cupping one swollen breast, she pinched the nipple between her thumb and forefinger, pulling it out from the swollen tip– carefully, she opened the little teeth of the clamp, and holding her breath, shut it on the swollen hard length of her nipple.

Selkie groaned as the clamp bit into her swollen nipple. Between her legs, she felt a gush and turning again to the camera, fumbled with the remote. Quickly, she focused first on her nipple, which now was a bright crimson and had swollen and extended even further, then breath coming quicker, she directed the lens, zooming in between her legs.

With the one clamp attached to her jiggling breast, Selkie showed her master how wet her cunt was getting. The smooth lips glistened in the muted golden light of the room, tendrils of sunlight caressing its slippery surface. The normally smooth pale lips of her labia were swollen, flushed with blood and arousal, they were pink and luscious.

Spreading her legs wider, Selkie reached down and inserting her two index fingers delicately in the hot swollen hole of her vagina, pulled it wide. A gush of clear, viscous liquid trickled out to run in a glistening line down to the crack of her ass.

"Look Master, my cunt is getting really, really wet. The clamp on my nipple, it made me gush – but not cum, sir, not that!".

Selkie felt a familiar heaviness in her hips. Slowly, she wriggled her ass into the bed, then with indrawn breath, quickly fastened the other clamp to the other breast.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, - see that master? The clamps are both on – look how they pull my breasts down – how they pinch my tits".

"Now, Master, now I'll try to do what you asked."

With that, Selkie took the vibrator – and with a smooth motion clicked it on and thrust it between her legs, the head directly on her aroused clit.

"Oh god, oh god – that feels good Master – it feels nice now ... your Selkie is aroused now, Sir – I wish you were here – I would beg, Sir, beg to suck your beautiful cock!"

Selkie's heavy-lidded eyes gazed into the camera lens, unfocused now as the vibrating dildo now began to send waves of pleasure along the nerve endings, neurons snapping, endorphins floating through her body.

Half seeing, she took in the sight on the television screen. Her long pale body lay back against the pillows, her breasts swollen, the nipples crimson and obscenely obvious, their hard swollen length clamped between the cruel teeth. Her legs, pulled up and spread far apart, trembled as she pushed the big vibrator against her now swollen and aroused clit. Wiggling her ass, Selkie settled herself so her pulsing deep pink hole could be seen, a glistening trickle of arousal snaking out of its swollen depth.

Unbidden, her hips began to push against the hard dildo, seeking more of the delicious sensation now coursing through her body.

Deep in her own space, Selkie blindly turned to the timer which clicked away the minutes. 8 minutes.

"See Master, I'm doing it – it feels good, it feels good – do you see me, Master? Do you see my cunt drooling? Look at my titties, my dearest lord, look at your slave's tits – all swollen and hard – look at her cunt YOUR slave's cunt, the one you push your prick in and fuck and come in ..."

t her cunt YOUR slave's cunt, the one you push your prick in and fuck and come in ..."

Almost delirious, Selkie suddenly felt an overwhelming pressure, a pushing in the front of her groin.

Too late she realized what was occurring and tried to stop, with a cry she pulled the vibrator away from her cunt just as a thick spurt of clear liquid erupted from between her lips – further up than her drooling cunt hole and just below her clit.

With an inarticulate cry, Selkie capitulated, her hips jerking as one spurt, then another was forcibly ejected from her urethra.

Breast heaving, Selkie gave in as the clear watery liquid sprayed her taut thighs, breath short and panting, waves of pleasure coursing through her body.

A moment later, a buzzing and the timer went off.

Dazed, Selkie looked into the camera lens, her big eyes, heavy lidded and glazed. Awareness slowly flooded back and despair clouded the spring eyes, muddying their normally clear surface.

"Oh Master – I ejaculated – that's not really a cum is it? You know for me it's lovely but not as good as the other."

She stumbled over her words, then hanging her head, ashamed, was silent.

Between her legs, a wet stain was mute witness to her disgrace.

After several minutes, the abashed pet decided to try for the third time to fulfill her punishment. Dusk was starting to mute the light which spilled in the high windows, sending shadowy fingers into dark corners, no longer sparking crimson but muted sherry in the tumbled curls.

Turning the timer to 11 minutes to allow for a margin of error, Selkie decided that this time she was going to succeed. Her D.'s reserved manner with her, apart from the fact he hadn't touched her in the several days since she had returned from Montreal, were killing her spirit.

Lying awake and unhappy beside his warm body, not daring to press up against him as was her wont, Selkie had turned yearning eyes on his sleeping form. Naked, he had turned, the sheets tossed off in the warmth of the room and she had his seen his prick, engorged and trembling, its pale surface and crimson head delectable. Unable to resist, she had slipped down and light as a fairy, had leaned over, holding back the tumble of red curls from his groin. Delicately, her small pink tongue had begun to lap at the delicious cock, its clever tip burrowing in the tiny winking eye which immediately began to leak a little rivulet of clear fluid.

Suddenly, she had felt a hand clamp onto the back of her neck. Looking up, beseechingly, she had met D.'s implacable gaze. Capitulating, tears filling the big eyes, she had crept back to her own side of the bed.

"I WILL do this!" she said fiercely.

Determined, her clit still throbbing, her breasts aching now from the clamps, Selkie took the vibrator, pushing it determinedly between her slippery thighs and turned it on as she flicked the timer.

Looking straight at the camera, Selkie worked at disassociating herself from her traitorous body. Gazing into its unwinking lens, she focused on the reality that D. would be looking at her later this night and she could not, would not, disappoint him a third time.

The minutes ticked by. Selkie's clit hummed and thrummed, this side of sore as she ruthlessly suppressed any sign of arousal. Her abuse of its sensitive skin, however, was serving now to provide a welcome numbness, allowing her to keep the vibrator firmly pressed against its errant hood without actually causing unbearable pain nor equally unwelcome arousal.

"I WILL do this," she mumbled fiercely, keeping her eyes trained on the implacable stare of the video cam.

Inside her head, a kaleidoscope of images and memories tumbled and ran riot; images of D.'s warm arms, the feel of his hands rubbing cream into swollen welts, the butterfly touch of his fingers as he barely caressed her soft breasts and most of all, the approving warmth of eyes, now glacier cold, turning warm and filling her heart with an overwhelming rush of love and need and contentment.

The buzzer going off startled her, and with an exclamation, Selkie dropped the buzzing instrument of torture.

A bit dazed, she looked the timer. Its small dial was quite decidedly at 0.

She had done it!

Turning to the camera, she allowed a shy smile.

"I've done it, Sir – I know it took a long time and you may not think I did it correctly, but I honestly tried my best. Please, darling Sir! Please forgive your naughty pet now!"

Selkie's huge eyes glittered as tears welled up then ran in a glistening trail from the corner of her eyes down to the small, sensuous mouth. Her dishevelled curls tumbled around the pale face, muted now as dusk lent a soft glow, softening edges and giving a pale translucence to white skin. Her breasts, still flushed and swollen, bobbed enticingly as she leaned forward, the long legs folded now.

Sighing, she slowly got up, a heavy ache in her groin. Despite ejaculating, Selkie had indeed not had a regular orgasm and while she truly enjoyed the former, it was the latter that provided the greatest pleasure and release.

Her clit felt swollen and sore, her nipples were hyper extended and crimson even as she undid the clamps and gave a deep breath as the harsh pressure of their teeth eased.

Turning off the camera, she went into the bathroom to run a bath.

_________________________-

Later that night, D. arrived home. Standing outside his house, he paused in the warm darkness of the spring evening, breathing deep the heady, sensuous scent of lily of the valley scattered throughout the grass and flowerbeds.

He knew his Selkie was distraught and unhappy and while he wasn't particularly happy about that, he knew that she had needed a strong lesson.

Entering the quiet house, he dropped his keys and briefcase and went straight to the bedroom. Noting the camera immediately, he nodded approvingly, then his strong featured face softened as he took in the tumbled sleeping figure of his sweet pet.

Quietly, careful not to wake her, he unbolted the camera from the tripod and brought it into his office. Hooking it up to his laptop, D. watched his darling complete her punishment.

Musing on the ejaculation, and looking again at the sad face, he decided he would allow her that little slip and prick throbbing, entered the bedroom to give her the good news.

Selkie woke gently, a familiar and pungent smell pushing through the threads of sleep and exhaustion to see her beloved D's prick in front of her face. Looking up, she saw his eyes, warm and caring and her heart soared. Happily, she opened her small lips and with a smooth thrust, D. impaled himself in her warm mouth.

D. knew indeed that it would be quite some time before this pet was naughty again!

Worship

2008-05-15T06:39:00.001-04:00

You're sitting in your office when I come in and close the door. The gentle breeze blows softly through the open window, while in the distance, the thud of a basketball and crystal sound of children shouting can be heard. You look at me enquiringly.

Saying nothing, I crouch and fumble with the buttons of your jeans. I get the first open, then the second and third. I stop and then reach in and pull out your thick fat cock. It is limp still, just starting to thicken. I like the way it looks lying limp on your thigh, its heavy head pointing down, the white shaft soft and vulnerable. The spongy tip of your prick is barely visible, hiding shyly in its wrinkled nest of skin, a shiny naked hint just visible.

I lean back on my haunches, then leaning forward I study it. You lean back, pushing your hips ever so slightly toward my face. As I watch intently, a clear drop of clear liquid wells up from the tip and oozes down your cock onto your jeans. A thin, sticky thread connects it still to your cock.

I lip your cock gently with my lips then, closing my eyes, I suck your entire prick into my mouth. I love this feeling. The tip of your prick touches the back of my throat and by hollowing my cheeks and sucking I can swallow it right to the base, where my lips ever so gently nip. I relish the silky feel of your skin, the musky scent composed of clean sweat, the sweet juice which flows from the tip and even a hint of urine, all mixing and combining in the delicious, arousing scent of you. At this point, I also love the gristly feel, the not quite hardness and love that I can get it all in my mouth.

I lie with my head on your knee sucking gently at the delicious morsel in my mouth. I love the way you start to harden as I suck, my warm mouth encircling your prick. Slowly, inexorably, your prick engorges with blood, its girth increasing, and rising stiffly to touch the roof of my mouth. I feel powerful and sensual, your slave serving her Master.

I hear your heartbeat as my ear lies across your thigh. Now my lips can barely enclose the stiff prick which thrusts into my tongue. I pull back, gently and suck the mushroom head, lapping at the juice which now dribbles in a constant slow sweet stream from the tip.

Sitting back on my haunches I look again. Your prick stands straight and thick and full from between the flaps of your jeans. There is something intensely erotic about you sitting there, your T-shirt untouched, your jeans snugly fitting and only the great stiff prick protruding from the front. Somehow, your prick seems more naked and I feel my cunt tighten and contract, a foretaste of pleasure to come.

The juice between my thighs runs in streams down the sensitive inner skin, dribbling down to my knee in a glistening stream of visible excitement. I stand and pull my skirt up to my waist and display my wet glistening cunt to your gaze. I tip forward my hips so you can clearly see the slit, my inner lips already swollen, their normally pink tones, red and engorged with blood. You see to the nub of my clitoris.

You reach for me but I don't let you. I ache for you to touch me but again I crouch, keeping the skirt well above my waist so that when you look down you can see how my cunt splits from my position. You can see the red lips flowering from between the paler naked skin of the outer lips and in this position, my clitoris is forced up and out of its little hiding place.

I lean forward and fumble with one more button, then gently, carefully reach inside your pants to cup and then pull gently at your balls. Ever so delicately I pull them up and out of your jeans, tugging slightly to pull them over the still closed buttons. I lay them down.

I sit back and gaze on the incredibly erotic sight which fills my sight, intoxicates my senses. Your stiff prick stands straight and tall, its crimson head uncovered and glistening with a combination of my saliva and the juice from your own arousal. A constant stream of pre-cum nectar dribbles from the small hole at the tip, trailing down the thick white shaft and dampening the jeans. Your balls, tender eggs encased in soft furry sacks look large and swollen, pushed up as they are from beneath.

Your entire sex is now completely visible now although your clothes remain largely untouched. To see your cock and balls like that is incongruous and totally exciting, displayed for my pleasure only; yet there is mastery in their impudence, a statement that they are there and I am here to worship them.

I feel a masochistic thrill of excitement that makes my breasts stiffen. I like this feeling that I am nothing but a slave to you, that you can't be bothered to even undress, but just as you have a coffee when thirsty or take a piss when your bladder is full, I am a convenience, here to be used.

I feel my cunt contract and a strong spurt of juice runs down the crack of my ass.

I cannot wait any longer. Although I long to touch myself, I do not allow myself to do so. Crouching I reach out and grasp your beloved prick firmly at the base and lower my mouth. My head bobs up and down as I suck strongly at your cock. You push my forehead back so that you can better see your engorged cock appearing and disappearing into the small prison of my mouth. I can tell that you are pleased by the way my small mouth is strained and pulled by the girth of your prick.

Reaching down you command me to pull up my shirt. I do so, exposing my plump, yearning breasts, their tips red and engorged and stiff, their softness quivering and jiggling as my head pumps up and down. You watch my tits bob up and down and I feel your prick stiffen even more. At the base of your prick I feel that thrumming and the ache in my cunt is almost painful. I know that your cum is gathering by the tightening and drawing up of your hairy balls into your groin.

Suddenly, you grasp my head on either side and roughly pull me down hard on your cock. Then raising your hips slightly you begin to pump your prick rapidly in and out of my mouth. I choke slightly but you do not stop, merely adjusting the angle slightly so the tip of your cock goes further down my throat.

I am in ecstasy as I feel your prick pounding in my soft mouth. I know that in your mind there is only a desire to conquer, to thrust, to pump your load into the softness in which it is encased. I suck wildly at your rapidly pumping cock, gagging a bit and choking and feeling as if my cunt was going to shatter. I hear you gasp, I hear you call me slut, and tell me that I am going to get what I am looking for, that you are going to shoot your cum right down my throat.

Suddenly, you pull the back of my head roughly to your groin and with a groan you discharge. I feel your prick jerk and shudder as hot, liquid sperm shoots from the tip, filling my mouth and sliding down my throat. I swallow quickly, terrified of losing even a drop but despite my efforts, as your cock continues to spurt, my mouth fills and starchy white cum drips from the corner of my mouth.

The throbbing begins to slow and slowly your prick empties itself. I rest my head on your thighs, holding your softening prick between my lips. It seems like a long time but I am loath to let it go. We both start a bit as we hear a dripping. I reluctantly release your prick and look between my thighs. My cunt is literally streaming juice so that it is actually audibly striking the floor like raindrops.

You pull me to my feet, grabbing my hips and pulling them to you. You barely touch my cunt, flicking the sensitive nub of my pleasure. Like a huge black wave, my orgasm erupts and my cunt convulses. Moaning, my legs buckle as my contractions hit. I fall to my knees. You pull me close and meet my lips in a fierce clinging kiss. Your tongue invades my mouth and you suck gently, pulling in the remnants of your cum and sharing the taste of your pleasure.

An eon later, the throbbing subsiding, I look at you. Your prick is soft now and lies flaccid and innocent on your thigh. Leaving over I very, very gently lick it clean. I do the same with your balls, running my tongue over and under their tenderness. Gently I pull open your fly and place your prick and your balls reverently back in and button you.

Rising, I give you a gentle, grateful kiss and go to make supper.

Into the Fire - Chapter 2

2008-05-14T10:04:00.000-04:00

"You're going out again?"

Mario's voice was aggrieved. Steph paused and turning, looked at her husband as he sprawled in his favourite chair, the TV remote clutched in one hand.

"You know that Gabrielle and I have the book club tonight!" she answered, her slender arms reaching up to thrust a pin in the piled hair.

"That's three nights this week – you're never home!"

Steph stopped fussing and turned to Mario. A pang of guilt arrowed through her as she took in his plaintive expression. He really had been sweet about all the time she was spending away from home and in view of the fact that he wasn't used to her being out and about all the time, he had been remarkably patient. She felt even guiltier as she thought how angry and yes – she admitted to herself – devastated, he would be if he knew how she was really spending that time.

Hair tousled and still damp, Mario's curls sprang about his head, framing the strong features. Shirtless from the shower he always took the moment he got home (construction work being hot, dirty and exhausting work), his chest was heavily muscled and broad, curly black hair trailing from the hard nub of his nipples in a line, disappearing into the tight jeans which hugged his narrow hips and outlined the strong thighs.

Looking at him, Steph felt a frisson of affection and as her eyes following the trail of hair to the flat belly, an arrow of lust swept through her. It had been some time since she and Mario had had sex and although her knees even now went weak, thinking of Gaby's soft mouth between her thighs, the thought of her husband's thick prick was making her nipples harden.

For a moment, confusion raced through her – did she love Gaby? Did she love Mario? The problem was, she thought unhappily, she loved them both.

Other than his distaste for her unusual wetness, Mario was a loving husband. Not only did he spoil her materially but he was always making spontaneous sweet gestures like bringing home a huge bouquet of spring flowers or sweeping her up when he finished work and treating her to a romantic dinner. He gave her a generous allowance and never questioned how much she spent on the house.

Mario was proud of his pretty, clever wife and had proved to be a stalwart defender when her mother in law and even her own mother pressured her to get pregnant. It wasn't that she didn't want children, just not now. She knew she should be far more appreciative of his forbearance for many of her contemporaries were working on their second and third children while she was allowed to exercise her creative bent in decorating.

And, she thought truthfully to herself – she did love that beautiful prick – there was something about the way that hard length felt between her legs, pushing up into her ... Steph shivered, her nipples hardening.

Watching her, Mario watched a myriad of expressions cross his wife's expressive face. For a moment, he saw her anew – and was suddenly struck by how wonderful she looked. A conservative dresser for most of the time he had known her, he wondered when she had started to change.

He watched as Steph studied her image in the hall mirror, pulling a curl out here, pinning one up there. Her posture pulled her heavy breasts up and Mario noted the way they almost spilled out of the low necked sweater which clung to their full, swollen orbs. He frowned. That top was awfully tight he thought to himself. Her skirt, a short, flippy denim barely brushed the top of her taut thighs and her legs looked long and shapely.

His prick stirred. Construction season was largely seasonal and he had to take the work when he could get it. Working 14 hour days sometimes, he had been coming home, showering, eating and falling into bed in a haze of exhaustion. Torrential rain and high winds had cut short his work day and he had arrived home unusually early for this season. Relatively rested, he started feeling quite aroused as he watched his very sexy wife getting ready.

"Steph...". Mario said wheedling.

"Do you have to go out tonight?"

Steph paused. She felt bad as she saw his hopeful face,. Glancing at her watch, she saw she was, as usual, early. Looking at him, Steph thought he looked rather adorable and again, felt a twitching between her legs. She really had been neglecting him, she thought.

Already aroused in anticipation of Gaby's expert ministrations, Steph looked at her handsome husband and decided she had more than enough time to indulge.

Dropping her purse, Steph smiled, a long slow seductive smile that startled Mario at the same time as it aroused him. Clicking on 4inch heels, she strutted to her husband, breasts jouncing in their skimpy bra, hips swishing. Falling to her knees, she pushed his thick muscled legs apart, running her hands along their strong length and looking up into his dark brown eyes, now growing hot as she nestled between his legs.

Leaning into him, she closed her eyes and rubbed her face lightly against the bulge in his pants, breathing in the musky male scent, so different from Gaby's uniquely feminine odour. Under the skimpy shirt, her nipples hardened, an atavistic reaction to male testosterone.

Beneath her soft cheek, she felt the heavy prick stir.

Turning her face, Steph placed her lips against the length of his prick, breathing warm breath along its twitching breadth,

Mario sighed, leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes, his prick starting to throb and thicken as he anticipated his wife's ministrations. In the conservative culture from which they both sprang, fellatio was not considered something "nice" girls did – when Mario discovered that not only was Steph willing but also was eager, he felt he had truly lucked into the bridal lottery.

Steph rubbed her lips along the burgeoning length of her husband's prick, feeling the moist warmth through the material of his pants. Extending a pink tongue, she licked along the zipper, making the aroused man jump. He could feel her warm moist breath even through the stuff of the jeans.

Expertly, Steph unzipped and unbuttoned. As she unclasped the last button, the spongy moist tip of Mario's prick, laying stiff now against his belly, peaked out, a drool of clear liquid dribbling from its winking tip.

Licking her lips, feeling a tugging in her groin, Steph reached in, pulling the stiff length free of its constricting underwear.

Holding it tight at the base, Steph studied Mario's prick, her breath shortening as she took in its swollen girth. Although not particularly long, his prick was thick and pale against the tanned expanse of skin, blue veins snaking under delicate translucent skin, the crimson head bulging and mushroom shaped. It looked, she mused, absolutely delicious.

Taking a deep breath, Steph leaned forward, pressing her warm heavy breasts into Mario's legs and with a smooth, practiced motion, sank her warm mouth down the length of prick.

Mario groaned as her warm, hot throat clasped his cock in a sweet, tight vice. Involuntarily, his narrow hips jerked, pushing his prick deeper.

Holding the base tightly, rubbing her hand up and down the velvety smooth skin in tandem with her mouth, Steph felt herself getting wet. The smell, that rich, yeasty pungent aroma – so different from the lighter, more astringent smell of Gaby and so familiar – for so many years she had been associating that smell with equally delicious sex.

The feel of him in her mouth, the gristly muscle beneath its velvet skin, the spongy drooling head, the tart flavour of precum dripping down her throat. She gagged slightly as Mario's hips began to push harder into her mouth, stretching even her generous lips and making her breathe strongly through her nose, her throat blocked with burgeoning prick.

Steph closed her eyes, pushing her breasts against Mario's muscled thighs each time she sank her mouth down to encompass that beautiful prick to its base. She breathed through her nose to enable her to suck the entire length in her generous mouth. As her arousal increased, Steph's rhythm grew more regular and beneath her expert ministrations, her husband's narrow hips began to tremble and tighten.

Mario's breath was harsh now. Unbidden, his hands went to the dark curls, tangling in their ebony silken length and pressing down on the warm skull, pushing that delicious mouth even further down his throbbing cock.

"Oh God, baby, keep going, keep going!"

The sound of his voice, harsh and masculine made Steph moan around the pumping cock stuffing her mouth. Unable to help herself, she cupped one of her breasts, squeezing its heavy plump weight.

Mario suddenly began groaning, his hands tightened almost painfully on her curls and suddenly, with a long hiss, he shoved his cock as deep as he could within its warm prison. A long hot spurt of sperm hit the back of Steph's throat, almost causing her to gag. Thick and viscous, it filled her mouth as his jerking prick began to empty its load onto her willing tongue. Spurt after spurt filled her warm mouth, until, choking and laughing, she pulled back, hot, glistening cum trailing down the corners of her mobile mouth and dribbling from the sensuous full lower lip.

Holding his still throbbing cock, Steph watched as the last remnants dribbled from the tip of the swollen prick, swallowing her delicious mouthful. Then leaning down, she swept her long pink tongue up the length of the rapidly softening member, sipping up the remainder of the offering.

Then with the tip of her tongue, she licked around her own lips. Standing and placing Mario's prick tenderly across the strong thigh, she smiled affectionately at her husband. Mario grinned up at her, his eyes still a bit glazed. Reaching for her hand, he kissed her palm and then her wrist.

Feeling a wellspring of affection, Steph leaned forward to kiss his lips. Mario winced as her mouth came near and Steph realized that he was repulsed by the thought of kissing her with remnants of his own cum on her lips. Unbidden, she thought of Gaby, her mouth wet and glistening, rising up from between her legs to meet Steph's lips with a long clinging, loving meshing of tongues..

Steph felt sad. Sighing, forcing a smile, she sketched a wave, grabbed her purse and walked briskly to the door. Mario, satiated, turned to the European football now on,

___________________________________________

Worried, Gaby glanced at her watch.

Steph was NEVER late. In fact, she was as Gaby termed it "anally time obsessed" and was always at least 20 minutes early. Thus, while Steph was only 10 minutes late, that was so unlike her, Gaby started fretting about possible car accidents. Her heart constricted at the thought of her beautiful girl hurt or frightened. The club was loud and raucous, and the music pounded in her ears, distracting and irritating whereas when she had first come in, it had sounded upbeat and seductive.

Brushing the straight blond fringe to one side, she tapped her fingers nervously on the table top. Around her, the predominantly female crowd in this very lesbian oriented club swayed and danced to the music. At the booth beside her, a striking black girl, hair exotic in tightly bound corn rows and with high pointed breasts, was passionately locked in an embrace with a tiny Asian girl dressed flirtily in a school girl kilt and demure white blouse. As Gaby watched, almost blindly, the black girl's long beautiful hand pulled the blouse out from the waist and snaked up to cup the small childish breast of her lover.

"Gaby!"

Gaby's head snapped up and across the room, she saw her sweetie waving madly, laughing as she tried to negotiate her way across the crowded dance floor without bumping into too many bodies.

A spear of jealousy when through her as she saw a pretty redhead turn to Steph, and obviously drunk, pull that dark-haired head toward her for a passionate kiss. Gaby watched as the redhead's hand snaked up and grasped the swollen breast of her lover, squeezing its delectable weight.

Before Gaby could get up and create a scene, Steph broke away and laughingly patting the girl's face, made her way to Gaby, grimacing humorously as she neared.

"God, - that girl was sooooo drunk!" she said laughing.

"Well, you didn't look too unhappy." Gaby said icily.

Leaning over, Steph pulled the blonde's head to her and soft lips met hers in a clinging, loving kiss. Weakening, Gaby stood, pulling the girl to her, her arms going possessively around the small, sexy body. The kiss deepened and Gaby used her experienced tongue to probe between Steph's lips. As she closed her eyes and tangled her tongue with her lover's, she suddenly tasted something she hadn't tasted before in her lover's mouth.

"What's that?" she said, with a forced laugh, jealousy squirming in her breast.

"I know what that tastes like!"

Steph flushed crimson as Gaby laughed at her. Before she could pull away, Gaby leaned down, her long mobile mouth capturing Steph's. Holding tightly to her, pressing her own small firm breasts against Steph's more generous bounty, Gaby leisurely explored the moist mouth, tasting the remnants of tangy sperm that clung there. Possessively, she swept her own tongue around that warm moist cavern, ridding the sensitive palette of the male detritus, and in the process, leaving her own sweet smelling mark.

"So that's why you're late." Gaby said.

"I'm sorry, sweet one! But he looked so unhappy ... and I've been out so much this week and I was afraid if I didn't do something he would make me stay in ... and how ..."

"It's ok, really, it's ok!"

Gaby took Steph's head between her hands, her blue eyes serious as she captured her friend's big brown gaze, now worried and frightened. Gaby knew she had to play this carefully. Steph was only now beginning to bloom. Constrained and caught by a culture that taught restraint and discouraged anything out of the status quo, Steph had already taken a giant step away from her beginnings. Gaby couldn't bear to lose her now if conscience and strictures taught and drummed into her as a child emerged victorious.

Gently, she shook the girl's head.

"Silly thing! It's not as if I didn't know you weren't married! I certainly assumed you would continue to have sex with your husband –whether because you wanted to or to keep him quiet – it didn't matter – I knew it would happen!"

"Look, Steph, I KNOW you have to fuck your husband! It's not as if I find that repugnant or anything – I mean I have been known to have a cock or two in my day!"

Surprised, Steph's gaze widened.

"Don't look so shocked! Nothing wrong with a stiff prick once in a while – bottom line is I love women best and all my serious relationships have been with girls, but sometimes its fun to swing the other way too!"

"Wanna dance, doll?"

The inebriated redhead, face blurred with drink, large sagging breasts barely contained in a skimpy halter, ran her hand along the plump globes of Steph's bottom.

"Butt out, sweetie – she is taken!" Gaby said firmly.

Turning to Steph, Gaby grabbed her hand.

"Do you want to stay here? Or shall we go back to my place?" she asked.

Steph, busy removing the redhead's hand yet again from her shapely derriere, nodded.

"Yeah, I think it might be safer," she said, grinning.

Hand in the hand, the two girls made their escape into the sweetness of a spring evening.

Dusk had fallen in soft folds of midnight lace, soft and sweet, the air dreamed of lilac and lily of the valley, blooming under budding beginning green trees and the shy, painfully beautiful freshness of plants awakening from winter's rest.

Hand in hand, they strolled streets now busy with people seeking the solace of renewal, winter worn faces pale and hopeful as spring wrought its magic in tired eyes and awakening limbs.

Steph sighed. The air was fresh after the rain earlier in the day and taking a deep breath, she filled her lungs. A sense of freedom held her in thrall for just a moment in time – holding her friend's hand, strolling through the eclectic, quirky district of Queen West, Steph felt as if she had awoken from a long sleep.

Key in hand, Gaby opened the door into a riot of colour and warmth. For a moment, she paused, struck anew in what a difference this small person was making in her life. An inveterate and unapologetic home renovation addict, Steph had begun first surreptitiously, then more overtly to transform Gaby's former serviceable but uninspired flat into a haven of warmth, colour and uniqueness.

Gaby was an inspired buyer for her lingerie store; with an instinctive appreciation of fine fabrics, shape and form which left every figure type seductive. Colours for flesh she understood – the tones that enhanced a cool olive, the rich tones which warmed pale white. , Fabric she understood with a knowledge and insight garnered from years of experience and an instinct that seldom steered her wrong – from rich brocades to innocent cottons, she had an unerring eye. But there her creativity ended – for her, her flat was simply a place she slept and restless Gaby was usually out and about.

Things had changed when Steph had come along.

Gaby hadn't planned that – she had intended a quick affair. Captivated and aroused by both the beauty and innocence of this pretty brunette, she had been caught unawares and in the quest for seduction had found herself reluctantly and unexpectedly charmed and captivated. Discovering and encouraging Steph's shy wit and sharp intelligence had been immensely provocative. Coupled with the overwhelming physical attraction she felt every time she looked at Steph, Gaby found herself starting to plan her time off around Steph's limited availability. She had watched indulgently when Steph's normal reticence had given way to confidence and even bossiness when she saw that Gaby had no objection to her redecorating schemes.

Noting that Gaby had no interest and was simply indulgent with her inveterate decorating, Steph had gone to town. Released from the strictures of satin couches, plastic covered lamps and elaborate poufy window treatments common and considered the epitome of style in her own culture, Steph had indulged her passionate love of colour and texture.

Flea market finds like a rickety chair, were stripped and painted a rustic, soft blue; vibrant curtains, flowing and airy, hung at sparkling windows, eclectic and unusually shaped cushions now softened the big couch, while medieval tapestries she had made with bargain basement fabric and Home Depot wooden spools decorated terra cotta walls. The whole effect was utterly charming, warm, vibrant and welcoming with a quirky, offbeat charm that had Gaby's friends asking her who her decorator was.

Kicking off her heels, Gaby sighed with relief and sank onto the welcoming settee, throwing long, lean legs up on a wide seat strewn with cushions. Leaning forward, she grabbed Steph's hand and pulled her down in front of her, pushing the narrow shoulders until Steph, capitulating, leaned against her..

"The thing is, I know you love your husband. I'm willing to share – I mean, it's not like I have a choice."

Still talking, Gaby pulled at Steph's jacket until the small brunette, curls dishevelled and sexy sat forward, allowing Gaby to pull it off her slender arms.

Leaning back, Steph closed her eyes. Gaby felt good against her back, the small firm breasts pressing into the sweep of skin, Gaby's firm shoulder comforting against her curls, the long, gorgeous legs cupping her own shapely curves in sweet restraint.

Gaby's hands, tender and delicate as a butterfly, ran long mobile fingers along the slope of narrow shoulders and down the thin curve of waist, pausing for a moment, to encircle and caress the slightly rounded firm belly and then sweeping up to barely touch the heavy underside of generous breasts.

Her voice soothing and comforting, Gaby's clever hands barely touched Steph's breasts, running delicate fingers along swollen mounds and never touching the hardening nub of distended nipples.

ng the hardening nub of distended nipples.

Steph sighed, revelling in the feel of Gaby's hands at her sensitive breasts, relishing the energy radiating from them, that somehow felt like touching but wasn't. Her breasts, engorged and almost painful, seemed to swell into Gaby's magic hands, seeking the caress of mobile fingers and soft tips.

Between her legs, Steph felt the first stirrings of arousal.

"I'm confused and that's the truth," she confessed.

"I mean, this, what you're doing, it feels so bloody good – so sexy – and makes me so very hot".

Steph's voice was a bit breathless now as Gaby's hands never missed a beat, barely rubbing, flicking and hardly touching, until she wanted to shove her breasts into those teasing hands.

Steph's head felt heavy and languorous; her eyes closed, she breathed in the scent of her friend, the feel of her sweet breath light on cheek.

"I love being with you, Gaby," she admitted.

"You're one of the first people in my life that I feel sees me as a whole – not just a 'good daughter', an 'appropriate wife', but someone with a brain and an opinion and the ability to think and debate."

Gaby pulled Steph close, nestling her tighter between her legs, relishing the feel of the firm, compact body against her own, the warmth of the smooth creamy skin. Gaby's normally sharp blue eyes softened as she took in the sweet curve of cheek, the long straight nose, the silken hair.

"And what about this?" she said teasingly, and her hands swept up to cup the yearning heavy breasts, squeezing and moulding their delicious warm flesh.

Steph groaned and reaching up, plucked at her shirt – wanting Gaby's hands on her actual skin.

Gaby pushed her forward and with expert fingers pulled the top over her friend's tousled head, rubbing a hand down the long sweep of back. Steph sighed, shivering as her nerve endings vibrated. Leaning forward slightly, she looked down at the swelling globes of her own breasts, loving the way the pale sweet flesh overflowed the wisp of soft lace barely cupping their plenitude. She gave a soft groan as Gaby's expert fingers released the clasp in the back, and sighed in relief as the heavy breasts were freed.

Then, taking a deep breath, she grasped Gaby's hand as it swept around to squeeze her breast.

"Hold on – I have to say something."

Steph scrambled forward to her knees, then bracing herself against the long smooth length of her friend's leg, turned to face her.

Gaby's face softened. Steph, her mobile features serious, gazed at her. She had no idea, Gaby realized, how utterly seductive she looked. Her gorgeous ebony hair was piled in artful disarray atop her small, well shaped head, curls springing and twisting, one fat black ringlet brushing the creamy, sloping shoulders. Her eyes, huge, a deep brown so intense as to be almost black gazed levelly at her girlfriend.

Steph's shoulders were narrow but fine, her torso slender, almost too much so for the glorious abundance of breast, swelling heavy globes with a rich, full underhang, the brown nipples prominent, puckering and elongating as they reacted to Gaby's hot gaze. Steph's waist was tiny while the sweep from its narrow circumference out to swelling hip was breathtaking. She sat facing Gaby, her legs, clad in sheer black stockings were shapely and muscular.

"No – stop looking at me like that," said Steph, grinning and trying to keep serious.

"I have to say something."

Gaby's blue eyes met Steph's.

"What do you want to say, sweetheart? You know you can tell me – just DON'T tell me that we're done."

Without realizing it , Gaby let a worried note creep into her voice. Self sufficient, fiercely independent, Gaby was proud of the fact that she had largely survived to this point on her own – with no help. She had had girlfriends but most of her relationships were fairly shallow and short-term. Until Steph, she had thought herself incapable of feeling deeply for another human being.

Then the vivacious, adorable, creative, intelligent bundle that made this captivating woman so fascinating had come into her life and there was no going back.

Steph looked miserable, a sheen filming the brandy-coloured eyes.

"I love being with you, Gaby – you know that. But sometimes, well .sometimes I just feel so guilty - I feel that I'm not just deceiving Mario but also that I'm deceiving you – that I'm being unfair to both of you because I'm so wishy washy I can't make up my mind which direction to take!"

"The fact of the matter is, I feel like I am waking up after a very long sleep – sometimes I feel like a butterfly as trite as that sounds. My mind – well, it feels like for the first time since I was born, it is actually being stretched.

Steph sat back on her heels, her heavy breasts hanging full and lovely against her chest.

"But Mario is a good man – a kind man – he has been wonderful to me – and I still like having sex with him – I won't lie to you – problem is, I like having sex with YOU also."

Steph looked so confused and sad, that Gaby's heart ached. Reaching out, she gently traced Steph's jaw, her finger trailing to outline the full, sensuous lower lip. Delicately, she pushed a finger tip just into the warm moistness of Steph's mouth. Sighing, Steph closed her eyes, swaying forward, breasts swollen, fastening her lips over Gaby's finger and sucking in the tip.

Gaby pulled her hand free and grasping her friend by the shoulders, drew her close.

"Sweetheart – we've been seeing each other what? 6 months? In some ways that is a long time, in others it is just a flash in the pan."

"I won't lie to you – I would like more time with you – but I knew when we got together you had a life and a busy one at that. You've never ever said Mario was cruel – although it pisses me royally that he can't accept your wonderful sexuality – always, you've told me how well he treats you."

"But do you have to make a decision right now? tonight? I mean, why don't you allow things to take their course – I've learned that fate is something that happens no matter what – so why hurry it? If I don't mind sharing and Mario doesn't know – there is no harm done to anyone."

Reaching, Gaby pulled the long slender neck and worried face to hers. Soft lips met in a clinging passionate kiss, tongues probing and tangling, sinuous and provocative. Breathing deeply into each other's mouths, holding tightly to Steph's shoulders, Gaby could feel herself moisten as the warmth of Steph's mouth, the hot thrusting tongue, the smell of her skin and feel of her caused her heart to beat frantically.

Reluctantly, she pulled away, and impatiently pulled at her own top, snapping a button off as she fumbled at its tiny pearl covered fastenings.

Laughing throatily, Steph touched her hand, quietening her. With trembling fingers, Steph carefully unbuttoned and drew the silky blouse off the blonde's broad, slightly freckled shoulders, the fine bones sharp under translucent skin. She sat back slightly on her heels, admiring the look of Gaby's strong beautiful torso, her breasts soft and firm under a silky camisole. Pulling the slip up from the waist, she gasped as the swollen, crimson nipples came into sight.

"God, your breasts are so beautiful," she breathed reverently.

Leaning, she lipped one swollen nipple, pulling it gently between her lips and suckling. Gaby groaned and throwing back her head, clasped the dark head to her breast.

Steph's hand came up to cup her delicious morsel of flesh. She revelled in the feel of this woman's breast, the slightly elastic feel of the firm, warm flesh, the softness so delicious to squeeze and mould, the feel of the long sensitive nipple between her lips. She had never envisioned what a woman's breast tasted like until Gaby and had she even for a moment, tried to imagine, could never have come up with the reality of rich, soft woman flesh. The spongy firm taste of the nipple, piquant and soft, the erotic feel of firm flesh in her hand were not something that could be described until your own hand cupped such a breast.

Breathing heavily, Steph leaned forward, putting almost her whole weight against her friend's warm body.

Overbalancing, Gaby shrieked as she tumbled to the floor, bringing her dark haired friend with her. Laughing, the two girls landed in a tangle of silken limbs and jouncing breasts.

Lying unhurt, they grinned at each other.

Pulling herself to her feet, Gaby pulled Steph up.

"Come on you, the bedroom is better anyway!"

Steph turned, then stopped as Gaby halted her. Bending slightly, Gaby unbuttoned the short flippy skirt, tugging until Steph wiggling, stepped out of it, leaving it in a pile on the floor.

Then arms on her shoulders, guiding, she pushed her friend forward, watching as the full, plump buttocks flexed and unflexed as Steph, still wearing her silky stockings and 4 inch heels headed for the bedroom.

Getting to the huge king-size bed, Gaby turned Steph to face her. Again, she leaned and with soft lips caught the brunette's in a clinging passionate kiss, thrusting her tongue in and around the hot warm mouth.

Then pushing gently, she sat her down. A further slight shove and Steph lay on her back, her taut thighs slightly gaping.

Gaby stood back, taking a deep breath. Steph lay back, big eyes heavy lidded and languorous, the ebony hair mussed, silken strands laying in provocative curls against her long slender neck. Her heavy breasts fell to each side in sweet succulent mounds. Steph's slightly rounded belly was a expanse of soft flesh, her hips a symphony of curves which swept down to the long slender thighs, their pale taut flesh almost obscenely displayed against the dark silk of the stockings. Kneeling, Gaby pushed Steph's thighs slightly apart, running her fingers along the silk of the stockings, relishing the feel of its slick surface. Her breath quickened as she took in the splendour of the girl's darkly haired cunt.

Crystal drops of arousal bedewed the dark pubic hair, clinging to its curls and glistening in the long crimson slit.

"Oh, you beautiful darling!"

Gaby breathed reverently, her hand unconsciously running up and down the shapely calf and thigh softly clad by clinging silk.

Gently but firmly, Gaby pushed Steph's thighs apart then up, pushing her knees up towards her chest. In doing so, the crimson slit of Steph's cunt gaped wide, revealing the deep swollen folds of her sweet hole. Her small shy clit was just peeking between the folds of her labia, stiff and swollen. As Gaby gazed hungrily at the scrumptious cunt, a clear trickle of arousal snaked out of the swollen folds to run in a glistening stream down the deep crack of her plump buttocks.

Leaning into the apex of Steph's thighs, Gaby closed her eyes and breathed in the sweet, exciting scent of aroused female, musky and delicious.

"Kiss me, darling, please lick me!"

Steph's voice was pleading, breathless and sent a thrill of pure lust snaking through Gaby's heart. Her breasts felt swollen and heavy and between her legs, she felt her own clean shaven mound clench, then release a sweet trickle of hot arousal to drip down her thighs.

Unable to resist, she fastened her mouth on the hot swollen cunt of her friend, her tongue snaking between the tightly furled labia to lap at the long crimson slit. Expert and clever, Gaby's tongue played a symphony, tickling, lapping, pushing. Stiffening her pink tongue she would push its length right up the gaping hungry cunt then sweep out to lap at the throbbing clit which trembled at the tip.

Helpless, Steph's hips jerked and gyrated, pushing her mound into the hot lapping tongue, unconsciously grasping and moulding her own heavy breasts. She could feel it, the pulling deep within her womb, the aching heavy feel of her cervix throbbing and the unique pushing which she and a very few others felt just above her urethra.

"Yes, yes, yes..." she was barely aware of her own breathless voice.

She was close, so close.... Moaning, she grasped her long thick nipple between her slender fingers, pinching tightly and sending a strumming line of arousal from her breast to her womb.

Then suddenly, just when she thought she was coming to the peak, Gaby pulled away.

Opening glazed, frantic eyes, Steph gazed uncomprehendingly at her friend.

"Lick me, sweet one, please, please, please – I'm so close!" she wailed.

Gaby, eyes radiant and glittering in the pale Nordic face, smiled.

Turning to her side table, she bent, her small breasts jouncing, their bright crimson nipples hyper extended, the long hard tips shivering. Pulling open the drawer, she pulled out a soft scarf and before Steph can react, has wrapped it around her friend's huge eyes.

Startled, Steph shook her head, then subsided as her friend ran a soothing hand along her neck.

Obediently, she turned as Gaby pushed her onto her front, cupping the swollen mounds of her breasts for a sweet warm caress as she did so. Pulling Steph's hips, Gaby had her kneel on the bed, the plump, full buttocks slightly gaping and the long crimson slit obscenely obvious from the protruding swollen clit now peeking between the labia to the deep mysterious indention of her fundament.

Steph felt disoriented and dazed, her cunt throbbing and aching almost painfully, her breasts falling from her narrow chest, their hard brown tips almost sweeping the bed. She felt vulnerable and open, a sensation which only increased Steph's arousal.

She heard Gaby rummaging, and her ears acute as her sight was now compromised, strained to make out what she was doing.

She jumped as she felt her friend's hands on her hips and whimpering, pushed her tight ass back against her.

Startled, Steph felt a firm bulbous head push against the swollen folds of her cunt. Helpless, she pushed back against it, her cunt aching to be filled, her clit almost painfully sensitive. Her breath stopped as a hard swollen length pushed aside the distended crimson folds of her cunt and inexorably thrust its wide, hard length right up her aching passage.

"What?"

"Shhhhh, don't worry, darling, I'm just going to fuck you now – you want that don't you?"

Gaby's voice was hoarse and raspy, her excitement palpable in the warm, musky air of the room.

"Come, sweet thing, move that ass – push your cunt on my big cock," Gaby said wheedling, her narrow hips with the strap-on dildo thrusting against the rich swelling folds of her girlfriend's ass.

Holding tightly to Steph's hips, Gaby's eyes glittered as she watched the black, swollen dildo sink into the swollen red cunt, its hard plastic length re-emerging glistening with the hot wet arousal of her friend.

Sweat gathered and began to drip down her flushed forehead, as Gaby found a rhythm. Holding tightly to Steph's hips, eyes glued to the sight of the black cock pushing in and out, her face was flushed, her eyes glittering and hectic.

"There, do you feel that, darling? My big cock fucking your cunt? Do you feel it?"

"yes, yes, yes." Steph was in a fugue- sensation overpowering her as she helplessly thrust against the hard intrusion, the almost painful thrusting of this big intruder into her delicate interior unbelievably erotic. The pressure in the front of her cunt was almost overwhelming as the fluid gathered in the gland just above her urethra. As the hard plastic prick thrust in and out in a mad rhythm, it pressed against the rough, spongy G spot at almost the exact right angle.

Gaby leaned over the pistoning hips, keeping the big dildo buried in that scrumptious cunt and pulling at Steph's shoulders.

Rearing up, Steph leaned back against her friend, her breasts jiggling and jouncing, their hard dark tips swollen and engorged.

Gaby's breathing was harsh and uneven. She felt powerful, aggressive and sexual – a predator taking her prey – her big fake prick battering and raping her mate. Filling her hands with her Steph's warm overflowing flesh, she squeezed and moulded the heavy globes then grasped the engorged nipples between thumb and forefinger.

Deep within her, Gaby felt her orgasm building. Her own clit was unusually large – stiff and elongated, obscenely obvious between the swollen pale folds of her shaved cunt, the hard plastic nub at the apex of the strap on cock pushed rhythmically against her clit each time she thrust its heavy length into that luscious cunt.

"I'm fucking you, you little bitch – do you feel it? Do you feel my prick fucking your cunt?"

"Yes, it feels sooo good, fuck me, sweet Gaby, FUCK me!"

"I am you little slut, I'm fucking you with my big black cock, pushing it in and out of your cunt – it feels fine, fucking your cunt, it makes me so hot!"

"Are you going to cum soon – are you?" Gaby could feel her orgasm getting perilously close.

Steph wailed, a long drawn out undulating scream as her orgasm suddenly hit.

Gaby yelled as she felt Steph's cunt tighten on her big strap-on dildo and frantically reached forward, releasing one heavy breast to fall against the narrow chest to cup between Steph's trembling taut thighs.

A stream of hot, clear liquid spurted out from between the tightly furled labia as Steph ejaculated. Gaby groaned as the hot stream filled her cupped palm, soaking and then running over her wrist as her hips writhed and she thrust hard into the warm sucking cunt.

Harshly, she fucked the dildo hard against the now throbbing cunt, feeling Steph's contractions against her groin as she buried the dildo as deep as it would go. Spurt after spurt of clear ejaculate exploded out from between Steph's clenched thighs, soaking the bed and sending Gaby over the precipice.

Yelling, she thrust again and again in rhythm with Steph's own contractions, a deep red flush sweeping over the pale breasts as her own cunt poured sweet arousal, clear and sticky trailing down the inside of her narrow thighs. Her palm wet and glistening, her breasts heaving, Gaby screamed as her orgasm poured over her. Thrusting helplessly, she fucked Steph's spasming cunt with long hard thrusts in rhythm with the contractions which rolled over her in a powerful stream of pure sensation.

Panting, leaning over Steph's trembling back, her hand glistening, Gaby felt as if her heart was going to explode out of her chest.

As her contractions lessened and began to die down, she pulled back, her breath ragged and breathless, the long black cock pulling wetly out of the sucking confines of Steph's cunt with a hot sucking sound.

Collapsing on the bed, she pulled the shaking Steph down beside her, sweeping off the blindfold and turning the sweet, sweat soaked face of her darling to her for a long clinging kiss.

Nestling into the warm flushed neck, Steph felt an unbelievable lassitude. Remnants of her very powerful orgasm still reverberated, and her hips jerked spasmodically. She felt almost cold, as her blood pressure began to even and feeling her shiver, Gaby pulled the quilt over the two of them.

Dozing, warmly embraced, the two girls cuddled in blissful release.

---------------------------------------

It was some time later than Steph, dazed and half asleep, raised heavy eyes to look at the clock.

"Christ!"

She sat up abruptly, startling Gaby from her somulant state.

"What?"

"It's 2 o'clock in the morning! There is NO way Mario is going to think I'm at a bloody book club".

Panicked, Steph scrambled out of bed, searching for her clothes. Hopping, she put one shoe back on, then ran out to the living room to gather up the trail of clothes. Pulling, zipping and frantically trying to push her hair into a semblance of order, Steph felt her heart beating too fast.

Sitting up in bed, Gaby watched her broodingly. Pulling up her knees, she rested her sharp chin on them, her blue eyes narrowed and unhappy.

"Steph."

"Just a minute, hon, I gotta get myself together!"

Steph stopped her frantic ministrations, alerted by a tone she didn't recognize in her friend's voice. Re-entering the bedroom, she looked at Gaby.

"About what?"

"I AM jealous – I don't want you fucking Mario! I want you to stay here, with me ."

Gaby looked down. She was frightened and didn't want Steph to see her vulnerability. Independent from a young age, she was not used to being so wrapped up in another person it was always she who was in charge, she who called the shots. But then this sweet, funny, clever, creative little beauty had come along and somehow managed to sneak past her defences.

Gaby was intelligent – she knew that apart from the reality of Steph having sex with a woman, her culture had a strong and powerful pull on her. She knew that the time wasn't right to push Steph into making a decision – things were still too uncertain – the girl was only starting to figure out who she was.

Unfortunately, while her rational mind told her that, her heart had capitulated the very first time she had made love to this sweet, naïve girl.

Gaby looked up. Steph's huge brown eyes were stricken and very frightened.

"But Gaby ...."

Now wasn't the time. Briskly, forcing her emotions deep down inside, Gaby scrambled out of bed, adopting an insouciant air and laughing (albeit somewhat forced), went to Steph and dropped a kiss on her long straight nose.

"Silly girl, I just mean that I would love to make love again – but I know you need to get home, so let's get you organized and to your car!"

Steph was insightful. She knew full well that Gaby was putting a good face on things but she was far from ready to deal with the conflicts which her increasingly complicated life was creating.

Several minutes later, smelling rich and pungent, her makeup smudged, her hair in disarray, she was ensconced in her car and on her way home.

"What am I going to do?"

Tears welled out of Steph's eyes. She felt overwhelmed and confused – she loved Gaby – and what Gaby did to her was unlike anything she had ever felt in her life – but she loved her husband also and despite his unwillingness to encompass her entire sexuality – his distaste for her ejaculating ways was obvious – she know he loved her and was a good husband.

"What am I going to DO?" she wailed to an uncaring car.

TO BE CONTINUED