Erotica Stories

Awaken 

Your hand comes to immediate and reassuring rest upon the small of my back, as it unfailingly does whenever you are lying next to me as I stir into awakening. We have shared this moment many times over the years, and this familiar yet ever unexpected gesture continues to move me. I sometimes ponder how a subtle, unabated desire for you has remained so alive and flame-like within me; familiarity so often dulls our sensitivity to the changing beauty of those we love. We don't sleep like spoons and our shared time is as sporadic and imperfect as the paradoxical creatures we ourselves are. We part for a time but always come back to each other to share the intimacy again. Your hand knows (whether you yourself do or not) that I need its warmth, its current, its solidity, to bring my body to life. I have lived much without it, given our penchant for separations, but it is still the current of life to me, that hand on my back; it is my food, my desire, my reason. From your palm to the small of my bark and out through my belly, which rests flat on the surface of the bed, your solar glow begins its slow radiance, suffusing my heart with its warmth, flowing downward like molten lava over my Venusian mound, down farther, down the insides of my legs, stirring like lights the inner spaces below my ankles. Perhaps you are still dreaming, unaware of this journey we have begun. It is as though your instinct is ahead of you, moving you toward me, drawing you from your solitary flight in the boundless universe of dreamland. I don't know -- can we ever know another's experience directly? Still, my imagination seeks images of explanation; what is it at your deepest core that knows me? I don't ask, I feel the current travel from you through me and out again; our molecules, heedless of our possible intent, begin their rhythmic intimate dance. I listen to the sound of birds outside our room, then the sound of our breathing, now in unison, all of my senses coming alive. This time, this unique and unrepeatable time, I hear the rustling of the sheets as you stir. Moments pass. Your hand changes pressure ever so slightly. Our breathing is slow, rhythmic, relaxed, yet deeper. My eyes, resisting morning, are still closed and I am awake within that light-darkness. You are wordlessly aware that I am awake; our ritual is silence. We are orphan-close, so far away in this moment from the day which will soon press in upon us. We are farther still from our differences, our troubles, far from who we often pretend we are, even to each other. Do we really even know each other? I think not. Yet, our intimacy is so complete that we are like one being in this quiet time of shared arousal. You withdraw your hand as you turn on your side toward me. I feel a momentary emptiness, a longing, as the current subsides. As you replace your hand on my body, softly stroking, the current begins again. Past images come to me like dreams as you move closer to me. You, on your knees, gripping my arms as I sit, blocked from you by fear yet pulling you down to meet me, your eyes calling me out from my defenses where we can touch ... a San Francisco street corner and your arm encircling my waist, drawing me into you as I am about to obediently follow a green light. The light; the crowd; the sounds; stopped then, as the world has now. You, sweet surprising you, moving toward me pantherlike, unexpected, with the grace of your full presence. I have lived without knowing if you desire me until these moments, coming without warning, taking me from who I thought we were; freeing me. I open to you as your hand moves up from the sacred grove, up the center of my spine, so slow, so unhesitating. I feel lank morning strands of my hair being caressed into beauty, tousled farther across the broad flushed plains of my face. We are quiet and strange to each other, private. I feel your face close over my hair, my ear; we are still and new. I cannot breathe enough and am afraid to breathe, to break this timeless solitude. I am all liquid -- no bones, no muscle, no resistance, as I turn to you; our legs cross-stitching themselves into patterns they know, independent of our effort. My face finds the cave of your throat where it can hide. My tongue sneaks out to lick the salty taste of your skin, my lips nibbling ever so lightly that it would take conscious thought to know if I were grasping your skin or not. My breasts mold against your chest, swaying under the pressure, ripples caused by the rising and lowering of your chest as you breathe. The nipples are taut, stretched to two small peaks jutting up from the white mountains below them; pressing into you, rubbing your nipples as we merge closer to each other. My hand moves up, gently grasping the lobe of your ear, my fingers softly stroking the tender skin that knows my arousing touch; a touch that quickly banishes any divas that might be dancing in your imagination, freeing you to concentrate only on my sexuality and the innate desire to find our shared sexual rhapsody. My hand, having made its familiar connection, slides down your chest and snakes around your man's curve of waist, around farther to that plateau-like center signifying your spine's end, your serpent's tail. My center finger circles that bony terrain, gently pressing, pulling you inextricably to me. It slips down the gully, sliding downwards towards the hidden cavern, still drawing you ever closer to me as my own body presses forward to meet you. We are old friends and new territory, each merging affording new opportunities to explore the others depths of passion and sensitivity. Finding new ways to ignite the soaring experiences of sexual spontaneity. We are deep cavernous lovers; celebrants of the mystery of the ages. We begin to kiss, if such tentative brushes of our lips could be called kisses. OUr lips, seemingly negligent parties to our increasing heat, take their time with casual random meetings. Our bodies cling to each other for the promise of some ultimate home, while our mouths impudently enact their own rituals of tasting, biting, cajoling, inspiring deeper breaths and tender urgency. You have confessed to me that you feel fear just before our lovemaking, that you think you always will. It must be now that this primal near-terror begins; now, when you are so vulnerable. I am some dark chasm you cannot enter without risk of somehow becoming lost and changed, without becoming something of a stranger to yourself. For you to pass through to fulfillment, you have to become totally vulnerable, unable to defend yourself from attack. Those moments of thrusting obsession centers all of your being on the staff plunging into the dark, damp orifice between my thighs. Subtly I draw you closer, to reassure you that we each travel towards that total vulnerability together and in our unity we are strength that can not be defeated. That our bodies will sing and throb and from that climax we will emerge with new energies that makes the world new and vibrant. We move toward that universe together, each separate and wandering in the other, uncontrollably pulled and mastered by a need so intense it defies our most holy conventions, our deepest resistances; so humbling that it makes us completely visible, nothing can be hidden. Even our sounds no longer belong to us, but come from some ancient region we inhabited long before our learned expressions. We are floating like phantoms, I am between what I was and what I am becoming. We cannot separate now. Our joining is a threshold where we are no longer alone in the aching way we've know. We are a movement, a pulsation, nothing else. Something at once foreign and remembered. Our bodies clamor now for the ultimate release of the sensations that flood through our veins and seize our every cell. Our hands know their respective paths, even though they meander like it is wilderness territory. Seeking. Stroking. Stimulating. Striving to arouse each other, and ourselves. Is the feel of my hand sliding over your cock as thrilling to you as the sensations being telegraphed from my fingertips to my mind to my genitals? Each stroke down the length of your swollen member pumps more liquid from within my well. Your hands are igniting the heat from my core, rising it to an inferno of stimuli that engulfs me. A trembling starts from somewhere within the very core of my body. It ripples through me, each wave cresting over the one that seeps out the vaginal channel. Rolling together, your hands steadily guiding me to position atop you, our bodies grinding together, rotating, pushing. Mounted, I hover over your cock. Imperceptibly I lower my body until the silken head of your crown is brushing my tangled hairs. My juices coating you, running down the length of your stiff member. Lower. Lower I sink, allowing the crown to slide just into the opening. Hovering there, my body signals the muscles to clench, grasp, draw on you. With your crown just into the entrance, my muscles squeeze and nibble at your cock-head. Teasing. My breasts sway above you as you reach up to grasp the erect nipples between your fingers. You tweak them causing torrents to flood through me. I lower my body onto you, impaling myself on your pulsing shaft. Oh! how I love the feel of you sliding into me. My muscles clench tightly while your strength pushes its way through the moist chamber. You push upwards with your hips, driving yourself fully into me. Tremors! Shockwaves of sheer excitement claw and suck at you. More juices soak your skin as you merge with me. Our breaths fill the room with soft wind. I rotate my hips, back and forth; up and down; side to side. Rocking gently on the pivotal point. Always drawing on you, sucking at your balls. Reaching behind moving hips, my fingers caress your balls, sliding downward to stroke the bridge behind them. My breasts jauntily dancing before your eyes. You watch my face, the glow spreading across it as my body screams for more. I am lost. The driving forces are pulling at me to go faster, my body wanting this moment to last to eternity. I can actually feel each rise and hollow of your cock as it thrusts into me. The pliable lip of the crest as it moves back and forth thrusting itself into me like a pile- driver. My heart pounding within my chest sets up a rhythm section to which my hips dance. Pound. Thrust. Pound. Plunge. Pound. Pound. Thrust. Thrust. Faster and faster the drums beat as we merge our bodies on the link of the universe. My face glimmers with the ecstasy flowing through my body as it erupts into a quivering mass of juices and electrical currents that curl my toes behind me as my cunt grips you in staccato clinches. Your cock can not resist and begins to thrust in for the final plunges before spilling the fluids that threaten to burst your balls. Your legs helping to drive you into me with a force. Your moans fill my ear driving me even faster to meet your surging body. How that sound carries me to oblivion as my own voice harmonizes. Hair swinging wildly about my face as we grind and roll until there are no juices remaining and our strength leaves us weak as newborn kittens. I collapse against you, your strong arms holding me on top while we linger in no-man's land together. I roll to the side, your arms still holding me. Soft mews of pleasure emanate from within, unbidden. Softly you whisper, "Good morning, My Dear, time to awaken."   Back to top

Birthday 

The rain falls gently on the window pane, and you sigh. Each droplet makes a trail of water as it runs down the glass. The dark, grey sky clouds your thoughts as well as the light, and you leans on your hands on the windowsill. Your boyfriend promised you a nice, quiet, secluded picnic, and now nature has made its own plans, and it doesnt include your happiness. Once more, you sigh. Suddenly, there is a knock on the door, and you open it to find your boyfriend there, flanked by his roommate and best friend, both of whom are comically attired in white dinner jackets, bow ties, and white silk towels draped over their arms. You wave them in, and immediately the two friends enter the room, and clear a space on the floor. One of them disappears outside the door again, and brings in a beige blanket, and a blue one. Your boyfriend comes in a wraps his arm around your waist, and explains, "I couldnt find a red checkered one." He shrugs, and you laugh. You toussle his hair, and give him a kiss on the cheek. He turns to you, and says , "Happy Birthday." You lean forward on your toes to give him a kiss. Your lips touch his, and the feeling of his flesh gives you a feeling that you haven't felt in a long time, one of comfort, safety, and a little bit of desire. A crack of thunder awakens you to the weather outside, and you think about how glad you are to be inside at this moment. A white sleeve brushes against you as your boyfriend's best friend sweeps by to place the silverware in place around the paper plates (what's a picnic without paper plates, your boyfriend explains), and you laugh at the sight. He hugs you tighter, and you squeeze him back. His roommate steps in, brandishing two silver candlesticks, and white candles. Placing them in the center of the blankets, he stands up, and holds his hand out to the best friend. "What?" he asks. "Matches," the roommate responds. "What about them?" With that, you laugh out loud at these two friends as they argue. You bury your head into your boyfriends arm, as he slaps his forehead. "Where are they?" "Didnt you bring them?" "Of course I didnt bring them. YOU were supposed to bring them." "I wasnt supposed to bring them." "Well neither was I." You are laughing hysterically now, because the look on their faces is so comical, you just can't help it. Your boyfriend is shaking his head back and forth, muttering something about getting good help these days... Suddenly, one of them says, "Wait a minute." He fishes into his pockets and pulls out a bic lighter. He looks at the other, who shrugs. With a great flair, he flicked the lighter on, and reached down to the candle. Just before it was about to light, it went out. Soon, there he was, bent over, flicking the flywheel desperately trying to get it to light. You are laughing so hard that you can barely see. The other says, "Gimme that." and attempts to light the candle, but also has trouble. You are gasping for breath, laughing as you see both of them, their white dinner jackets falling over their heads as they try valiantly to light the candle. After several tries, it lights, and they striaghten up, trying to look as if nothing had gone wrong. One of them places a pillow at one of the place settings, and with a flourish ushers you to your seat. The other does the same with your boyfriend, and he sits. Then, they bring in a small musical keyboard, and a small picnic basket, and a plastic bucket filled with ice and a bottle of white wine. Your boyfriend noties you eyeing the plastic bucket, and explains, "Limited finances." You smile to tell him that he has nothing to worry about. The two friends stand in the doorway, bow very deeply, then exit, and close the door behind them. You laugh, and tell him, "They're sweet." He smiles. He pulls the keyboard on to his lap, and he is about to speak, when a clap of thunder interrupts him. It is a long, rolling thunder, and he waits patiently for it to end. He turns on the keyboard, and starts diddling on the keys. You know that he is a very good player, and the small keyboard doesnt do his talent justice. "I wrote this song for you." And he began to play. The music, even though it was coming from a small four inch speaker made no difference, was flowing with harmony, and the rythm was in perfect sync with the rainstorm outside. The rain on the glass provided a bass that the keyboard couldn't provide. Then, he opened his mouth, and began to sing. His voice carried over the rain, the keyboard, and into your soul. His words melted your heart, and touched the deepest recesses of your mind and soul. When the chorus, a soulful melodic piece, played you closed your eyes, and felt his emotion touch you. In your mind, you created images of a flowery pasture, with you and he lying down. He sang of kissing you, and you could almost feel his lips pressing against you. His words caressed you as his hands would; gently, carefully, lovingly. You could feel his skin next to yours, and your legs started to get weak, even though you were already sitting down. As the song wound to a close, you opened your eyes, and watched him as he stayed lost in the song. You crawled over to him, and brushed the hair out of his eyes. He looked up, and gazed into your eyes. His brown eyes flickered in the candlelight. The rain continued to pour, and feeling inside of both of you grew to an apex. You closed your eyes, and leaned into him. With one hand, he turned off the keyboard, pushed it aside, and with the other, he reached for you. The kiss was ages in coming. His lips just brushed the flesh of yours, and promised of better things to come. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Once again, you find yourself exploring the familiar crevaces of his mouth, the smooth texture of his toungue with yours, and the feeling of fulfillment in your chest when his comes next to yours. The desire becomes overbearing, and you reach for the hem of his shirt, and in one swift motion, pull it over his head. You trace your fingernails over his chest, and he intakes a long breath. More and more, you want him to do the same. He doesnt need any prodding, as he soon has your shirt in his hands. Soon, your shirt and bra are on the bed, and he is kissing your breasts. You run your fingers through his hair as he kisses and sucks on your nipples. Your breath becomes more and more labored, as does his. Your hands run up and down the length of his back, just like he likes it. Your hands fall under the waistband of his jeans, and you massage his behind. He comes up to kiss you, and with his hands, he reaches between you, and undoes your fly. At the same time, you do the same. The zippers come down at exactly the same time as a thunderous crash outside the window, startles you both. He raises his eyebrows, and looks at you with a curious look. You smile, and he smiles back. Not long after, both of you are fully naked and next to each other. He feels so good next to you, that you wish that you could just lie next to him forever. However, another part of you wants more of him, and that desire needs to be fulfilled. As he kisses your neck, you trace the contours of his body, down his back, down his ass, down his hips, and around, until you feel his hardness. You take him, and place him against you, and push him in. The first burning of him soon goes away, and you werent totally sure that it just wasnt extreme pleasure of feeling him inside you. As he slowly moves inside of you, he looks into your eyes. The candlelight gleams off of his eyes into yours, and his smile captures all of the feeling that you share. Suddenly, you can help it; you are filled with a feeling that you cant explain, but it makes you want to pull him closer and closer to you, almost as if you wanted to merge with his entire being. You grab him, and pull him close in an embrace. He embraces you back, and you feel the strength in his arms, and you think about how big and strong he is, and how you feel so small next to him all of a sudden, and yet at the same time he is as soft and gentle as a teddy bear. Inside of you, you can feel him, and the magic that he is working on you. His spell lifts you to that pasture once more, and your mind floats. You lean your head way back, as if you need to capture as much air as you can. He bows his head down, and kisses the skin that covers your breastbone. He knows that you love to be kissed there, and you smile thinking that he remembered. Your hips have a mind of their own, however, and they begin to react to his motions, even though you want the feeling to last longer. He begins to thrust harder, meeting yours with his own. Your own rising feeling takes over your entire body, and you begin to call out his name with every quivering sensation you feel. The rushing of the rain outside mixes in with the rushing you hear inside your head, and as you climax you hug him closer into you. Slowly, control returns, and you feel a tingling sensation inside of you, and you know that he has come too. You smile, secure in the notion that you can have him next to you, close to your heart, forever.  Back to top

Bitter-Sweet 

The floorboards of the old building creaked and groaned alarmingly as I returned to the room, having spoken to the restaurant manager and ensured a quiet table. His eyes had told me that he saw through my pretense, but that he was content for us both to maintain the polite fiction, to account for two people of such diverse ages together. Frankly, I didn't care what he thought, and suspected that he was jealous, so I was smiling a little smugly to myself as I opened the door to our room. The self-satisfaction was replaced with a leap and gasp of suprise as I saw Jenny waiting for me. The black of the clinging evening dress set her tan off to perfection, and made her blond hair gleam in contrast. For a few moments, I was content to simply stand and admire the spectacle, then she dodged nimbly away as I reached my arms out for her. "No, I just fixed my make-up!", she laughed, knowing it would tease me. I got lucky, trapped her in the corner of the wall, and very thoroughly removed all her lipstick, by the simple and blissfully enjoyable method of kissing it all away. She pouted, and pretended to sulk when we broke apart. "Now I have to fix it all over again - just to give you time to change", and, with a grin over her shoulder, she flounced theatrically into the bathroom. We'd showered before my visit to book the table, and I smiled at the warmth of the recent memories as I changed. As usual I struggled with my cufflinks, and was still getting my tie straight when Jenny reappeared, makeup immaculate. "You ready yet ? Honestly, you men ! You complain about us girls taking a long time, even though we only do it for you...." She stuck her tongue out at my expression, and grinned. "Well, I've got to send a postcard to the guys in the office, so I'm going down to the desk and drop it in the box. You can join me when you're _finally_ ready...", she tossed over her shoulder as she opened the door, and I heard the floorboards tracing her progress down the corridor. The view from the back of her evening dress was every bit as breathtaking as that from the front. Checking my tie in the mirror ( I _hate_ bow-ties!!!), I opened the suit-hanger in the closet and lifted out my jacket. I was reasonably sure that Jenny hadn't noticed that the dark trousers I wore were actually the bottom part of a tuxedo, nor had she seen the suit, so I was counting on a small element of suprise, and checked the fit and cuffs of the white jacket carefully. Who says only women make an effort ? I paused to slip a small package out of my case and into my pocket, then closed the door behind me, creaking my way down the passage to the head of the wide wooden staircase. Definitely a "grand entrance" down a staircase like this, and I had to supress a grin at Jenny's expression, as I squared up my shoulders and locked eyes with her all the way down to the lobby. Neither of us spoke as I tucked her arm in mine and led her toward the restaurant. --------------------------------- I rushed to get ready, he had mumbled something about going on an errand before we were to go out, I assumed he wanted to call his office and needed privacy, thus I questioned him not when I heard the clank of his keys just before he shut the door to our room. My make up I had to apply twice, I hated the stuff, but I never could go without a little bit to help hide some of my imperfections, or rather the lot of them. I chose a black cotton dress that was plain yet simple and elegant. He had given me no clue to where we were going or what we were doing, even at my protests that had led to a persuasion of pleasure, but he said nothing, so I could only guess. Either way black would work for classy or not, whatever his plans. I smiled thinking of the pleasure he made me feel, and how comfortable I was with him. He knew exactly where to touch me to make me squirm, he knew how to probe me to make me beg, he knew just how to make me scream and cry, and he knew just when to take the final plunge to unite with me so we could moan together. He knew me so well, and it sent shivers up and down my spine of fear and excitement. We were old friends, yet new aquaintences....old lovers, being born! Such paradox's. He came back shortly after I finished getting ready and he cornered me and kissed me, ruining my lipstick, not that it would have stayed on anyway. I liked the way his eyes lit up when he saw me, with pleasure combined with pride in his eyes. He approved of the way I looked tonite and that made me release my breath, realizing I had been holding it in for the slightest acceptance from him. Returning to the bathroom, I reapplied my lipstick, wondering why the hell I was going to bother for it would either be kissed off again, or eaten off during dinner and all over my wine glass, but I did just the same. I laughed at him struggling over his tie, then I tossed over my shoulder, grabbing my purse as I headed for the door, " Honestly you men! You complain about us girls taking a long time, even though we only do it for you....well I've got to send a postcard to the guys at the office, so I'm going down to the desk and drop it in the box. You can join me when you're finally ready." And with that I shut the door. Damn the floor boards..honestly, they made so much noise! Descending the ornate staircase I felt like a princess, yet I felt out of place, I didn't do justice to the staircase, I had no right walking down it, in a simple dress such as the one I had on, I should be in a long evening gown, and the setting should be the 16th century. Letting my mind wander and fantasize and transport me to another era, I bumped into another guest on the way down. He was drunk and upset me, but I ignored him and floated down the staircase looking at people trying to imagine them in full regalia. Snapping to attention as the manager of the resturant came forward to me, and straight at me. "You enjoying your stay with us Ms. ....?" He stammered, the nosy bastard! "Yes, thank-you, everything has been wonderful. Good evening." I didn't give him a chance to see how I was shaking, nor the smug smile of satisfaction I let creep across my face as I was further away from him, let him stew on that. Anything he could imagine about us was either true or partly true. And manager's were leeches anyhow; they sucked up to paying customer's until one with more `blood' came into target! Dropping the postcards to the guys and several others to my varied friends, I wandered around looking at the art-deco of the hotel and subconsciously I watched the people, wondering what was taking him so long. Someone was staring at me, I could feel it; shivering I scanned the room behind me, few people moving aboout a man in a tux was coming down the stairs, and several people were coming into the hotel; the big leech was lining up for the big drain.... The tux! That was him! Turning my gaze to him, his eyes locked with mine; I could see the mischief in his eyes from where I stood, 30 feet from the banister, and I approached him and waited. Nervously I smiled and his smile made me feel calmer, but I was still nervous; where were we going and what was in store, would I embarrass him, by anything I would do or say...my heart was pulsating inside my head so loud I didn't see or hear anything...thousands of thoughts ran through my head as he linked his arm with mine and began walking, and I followed his lead. ----------------------------- The hotel was mostly full of professional types, salesmen and travellers, with a few family parties and couples like us, so there was quite a mix of people in the cocktail bar as we entered. I pushed open the glass-panelled wooden doors and handed Jenny into the room, noting the appreciative looks from the men already in there, and glances of cooler appraisal from the women. I revelled in their momentary jealousy, and felt Jenny tense just a little, but the conversations resumed their tempo quickly, and I placed a hand on the tanned skin of Jenny back to steer her toward the bar. The feelings transmitted from that contact went straight from the palm of my hand to my groin, and I cleared my throat as a displacement. Jenny glanced at me, saw the look in my eyes and smiled. She knew. Seating ourselves on barstools, we ordered drinks. I remembered the girl behind the bar from years before, when I had come here on business, like many of the tired, harassed-looking people in the bar tonight. One or two of them looked relaxed and affable - the successful, secure ones. The rest looked worried, pressed for time. I had to look down into my drink to hide a grin as I compared my own memories of days on the road, feeling just like them, with the way I felt tonight. Not for me the fatigue at the end of another day's driving and hassling. Here I was, with my petite suntanned lover beside me, near the end of two completely insane weeks of stolen affection. In just a couple of days, each of us would have to return to our different lives, and the dream would end - but the memories ! Neither of us would ever be the same again, both would go forward enriched and renewed, with an extra dimension to our lives. I realized, with a start, that somebody was speaking to me. Jenny looked at me quizzically as I recalled my thoughts to the here-and-now to answer the maitresse d'hotel, taking our dinner order. The important business attended to, I turned back to face Jenny, who put her glass down and leaned toward me to murmur "Where were you, just then ?" I laughed, "Oh, a few years ago and a few years in the future. Just daydreaming". "The future ? Mmm, we have to face it soon, don't we ? Bitter-sweet memories, eh, lover ?" Her smile had a wry twist, and her dimples showed as she laughed it off. "Well, it's not over yet, and the night is young. What do you have in mind for this evening......." The question trailed off on a quizzical note of innuendo that sent a tingle through my belly and caused an agricultural-machinery salesman on the next stool to choke on his drink. The maitresse returned and caught my eye from the door, so I stood and helped Jenny down from her stool. As I took her arm and we moved away, the salesman stared hard at me, and brushed gin-and-tonic from his tie. I knew what he wanted to ask, but I didn't have an answer for him, so I avoided his eye. How could I tell _him_ what I'd done to deserve this, when I didn't know myself ? The dining-room was all oak panels and silver, and I felt, rather than saw, Jenny pause beside me and take it all in, breathing in the age of the place, letting the quiet sense of age and dignity work its magic. A waiter held the chair for her, robbing me of the chance to fuss over her a little, but she wouldn't have noticed anyway, she was still devouring the room with her eyes. "What a lovely place!" she breathed, and her eyes glowed in the light reflecting from the tableware. We didn't speak much as the meal was served, with quiet efficiency, then the conversation was mostly about the food and the adventures of the day, for a while, so we were finishing the last of the wine with our coffee before Jenny raised her eyes to my face and said, quietly and calmly "Well, only another two days - more to the point, two nights!" and smiled very directly into my eyes. Candlelight glanced from a drop of wine on her wet lips, her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her eyes very wide, in the subdued light. The table was in a quiet corner, and the experienced staff were acting on the instinct that told them to stay away until we needed them, so nobody was listening as I said "Fifteen nights gone, and I think we've achieved most of what we set out to do, haven't we ? We seem to have explored most of the torments that wouldn't leave a scar, and you've screamed several of those nights away, haven't you ?" Jenny nodded, looking down to the tablecloth and blushing at a memory. "Well, lover", she laughed, "I've certainly suffered at your hands so far, what comes next ?" "There's one thing I haven't used to bind you with, which I'm going to put you in tonight. It's stronger and less easily escaped than anything I've put on you so far." Jenny's eyes widened as she tried to imagine what could be worse than the straps and chains with which I'd tormented her to ectsacy. I had to supress a smile at the thought of what I had in mind, and the visible thrill that Jenny's imagination was sending through her. Through the thin fabric of her dress, I could make out her nipples stirring, and she shifted in her chair. If I could run my hand between her legs now, she would be hot and wet, but she was too far away on the other side of the table. Jenny laughed nervously, then coughed to cover up her disquiet. "So, how much longer do I have ? Do we need to go up now ?" "Oh, no, I don't think we need to hurry away. We can put your chains on here, if you like. More wine ?" Jenny's hand flew to her open mouth, and she blushed beautifully, all the way down to the top of her breasts. "Here ? You wouldn't dare! Ummm.." Relishing the moment, and knowing with absolute certainty that she was now thoroughly wet and trembling, I sat back and sipped the last of my wine. "Oh, yes I would, as you should know by now. Now, give me your hands." Visibly shaking, she extended both hands toward me along the tablecloth, palms down flat on the table. I watched her face as I reached into the inside of my jacket and produced a small bag. "Close your eyes" " You can't do this to me here ! I just can't, in front of all these ......" "I _said_ close your eyes." Biting her lower lip, she obeyed. Opening the bag, withdrew a short length of gold chain, with a tiny gold padlock on the end, and trailed the end of the cahin across both her wrists. "Keep your eyes closed!" I warned, in response to the squirming of uncertainty. I snapped the little padlock around her left wrist, and sat back. "Now, Jenny, you wear your slave's chains. They bind you, not to me, but to the experiences we have shared, and which you will take home with you. When you meet your next lover, perhaps your future husband, you'll have this slave-chain on your wrist, still tying you to the certain knowledge of your own sexuality, which you've learned here with me. I've been your master, you've been my slave, now I'm getting ready to send you out to find your own way again, and, one day, you'll meet the real master of your heart, and surrender to him, and he may wish to remove my chains and replace them with his own, of love and needing. When you find him, he will have the key to this chain. Until then, I bind you to yourself. Now open your eys and kiss me." ------------------------------ Nervously I licked my lips, what was he going to do to me, I obeyed him, I'd learned protesting did no good, and he would never hurt me or embarrass me, so I held out my wrists and closed my eyes. I felt something cold touch my wrist, I couldn't imagine what he was doing, until he told me to open my eyes, and I slowly did, half out of curiosity and half not wanting to at all. Fastened to my left wrist was the prettiest, dantiest bracelet with a small padlock on it for a charm...I was touched, and I listened to my lover telling me that it represented the experiences we'd shared and my sexuality and I was so touched my heart welled into my throat and tears brimmed my eyes. "...and kiss me." He said. I got right up and walked around the table to him and kissed him, squarely on the mouth, tears still in my eyes, and I hugged him. "You are more wonderful than words lover, let's go upstairs, please. I only have 2 nights left and I'm about to make a spectacle of myself." "Jenny dear, you could never do that." He stood and placed his arm about my waist holding me, and kissed my hair. Tears threatning to spill, I moved my left hand to his face up and slightly behind me and kissed his cheek twisting my head slightly but not my body, "..i love you ..." I said softly. He squeezed my waist in response. He was about to get emotional as well. One of the things I admired the most about this man, was that he wasn't into any of that macho crap about men crying, if he got emotional he showed it, like now. I could hear the tremor in his voice. Bleary eyed he guided me from the room and I saw some people staring at us; obviously moved by what they had just witnessed, and in some of their eyes I could see they readjusted their early synopsis of the two of us, ours was not the common older-man, younger-woman affair; these two people genuinely cared for one another, and that's all they cared about. All I cared about was showing him just how much love he'd welled up inside of me at his simple gesture. We walked through the lounge, two lover's holding onto each other, both with tears in our eyes and smiling at each other, no spoken words. We walked slowly up the stairs and into our room, I turned to _my_ man and began kissing him, with all the welled up passion in me, yet gently, and he returned them, we had all night for loving; this was going to be the sweetest night of loving and I would treasure this memory along with the rest for the rest of my life: I had this night and another to pack a lifetime of loving into, for it would most likely be the last, tears streaming down my face at maudlin thoughts and love it was my last thought that ran through my head as I eased him out of his jacket. We were crazy, then, hardly speaking; our minds and bodies communicated wildly..the night lasted forever...we took a long time loving and caring and when we finally came together we cried in unison, passion being torn from us, while our tears of love and having to part meshed and there we slept in the aftermath, two lovers who cared deeply for each other, I cuddled into the crook of his arm, my head on his chest, silent tears still running from my eyes as I slept in peace, he breathing as evenly as I, still holding me, one last tear escaping his eye as well. The morning would come soon enough. --------------------------------- Eyes moist, Jenny looked at her wrist, at the gold encircling it and the little lock. Without a word, she rose and circled the table, bending to press trembling lips to mine. I rose, and, hand in hand, we left the restaurant. Crossing the lobby, we met Mr Agricultural Equipment, slightly the worse for several more gin-and-tonics. Swaying a little, he stood aside to let us pass, and, as Jenny rested her curls on my chest, I gave him a look that just said "Don't ask me, pal. I'm just grateful..." I locked the door and turned into the darkened room as Jenny came toward me, eyes brimming with unshed tears, and her outline blurred as I wanted to cry with her, tears of joy mingled with rage and sorrow that, soon, it would all be over, the happiness of our time shrivelling in the dead, choking air of an aiport, as she got onto the plane taking her out of my life, possibly for ever. But that was a day and a half way yet, this was now, this was tonight, this was still _our_ time, as Jenny threw herself at me and crushed her face to my shirt. Through the sadness, I felt the need for her rising again in me. As we kissed - hard, hot, deep kisses this time, her hands slid my jacket off, and began searching for the buttons on my shirt. I slid my hands down her tanned, bare back to hold her buttocks and pull her hips into mine, leaning back as she thumped at my chest in anger. "Shit, love, I can't get these undone !", she laughed, then her expression changed to one of wicked glee. "So, I'm not going to bother..." I felt her hands clutch my shirt into two bunches across my chest, then buttons flew and fabric tore as Jenny literally tore the shirt from me. Anticipating the next stage, I kicked my shoes off and unbuttoned my pants, so that they pulled away without tearing. Jenny was laughing and kissing my chest at the same time, and I laughed with her, sharing the abandon, revelling in the madness, and laughing at the image of myself wearing nothing but blue nylon socks and an erection. There is something faintly ludicrous about the naked male form anyway, but give it a pair of socks, and you guarantee to raise a smile. I bent, slipped them off and straightened, catching Jenny around the waist. "Now, little lady, your turn........" "No, you bastard, don't you...." she gasped, breathless, as I seized her hair and held her head back for a very long kiss, which turned into a series of bites around her neck and shoulders, and, suddenly, I found my hands on her dress over her breasts, and I didn't want the fabric in the way, so I pulled, sharply. One side of the dress ripped away, exposing her full firm left breast, and she gave a low cry as I tore the rest of her dress, top to bottom, throwing it away across the room. For a moment, we froze, in tableau, shocked by the violence of our own emotions, then Jenny laughed out loud and flung her arms around my neck, bearing me back onto our bed. Standing, for a brief moment, she tore her own briefs away and laughed, "I know how to take the steam out of your boiler, buster..." Throwing herself across my legs, Jenny began rubbing her exposed groin up and down my thighs, "accidentally" brushing her downy pubic hair against my erection. Her breasts swung with the motion, and I grabbed one in each hand, kneading and rolling the tan flesh, hearing her gasp and sigh as I teased her nipples to erect attention. Jenny ran her hands, palms flat, across her belly and down to her groin, then to mine, and I felt her fingers on me, lifting and guiding me into her. She was hot and wet already, and her tight muscles closed around me fiercely. Straightening her legs, she then drove down onto me, hard and fast, sending me deep into her, and she began thrusting quickly, giving a little grunt with each stroke, her eyes closed, her mouth open for air. A little of this was more than enough for me, and I felt the gathering pressure in my balls, then all too soon, the familiar liquid explosion as I came deep within her. Breathing deeply to regain my composure, I watched Jenny as she eased herself off and knelt beside me on the bed. She bent and kissed my mouth, all the savage fervour gone, and _that_ grin back in evidence.... "Well, love, does that take the edge of your appetite, for a while ? Well, now it's myyyyy turn!" Jenny straddled my chest, and treated me to an extremely intimate view of her inner self, spread before my eyes, only a few inches away. I reached up and pinched her lightly on her ass, and she squealed and jumped up a few inches, lifting herself from my chest. Before she came down again, I slid my body down the bed, and when she relaxed her thigh muscles, Jenny's pussy came down squarely onto my mouth. "Ooh, you sneaky baaaaaa....uhhh!", she managed, as I licked all the way from the rear of her lips to the front, just over her clitoris, which was trying to hide. I reached my hands in from around her thighs, and lightly spread Jenny's lips, exposing the swelling bud of her clit. Placing my mouth over it, I sucked the lips gently up and out, and flicked my tongue lightly, then harder, over and around that special spot, and was rewarded by hearing Jenny gasp, then moan almost continuously. Her thigh muscles each side of my face begin to spasm, and, after about ten minutes of this tender attention, I saw, from my privileged viewpoint, her belly mucles begin to quiver, and, at the same time, I felt her vagina contracting and pulling at my tongue as, head thrown back, she sobbed and gasped for air, trying to talk, scream and breathe at the same time. "I don't... please... no... I ca... Ohhhhhh! Uh.. Uh....Uuuuhh!", she sobbed, like a heartbroken child, her muscles bunching and clutching beyond her control, tears pouring down her face, sweat covering her body and mine, her fluids covering my face as she drew in a huge breath and held it for longer than I would have imagined, before throwing her head back and crying her fulfillment at the ceiling. The people in the next room certainly weren't sleeping tonight. After Jenny had rested, it was my turn again, but that, as they say, is another story...................Back to top

Bliss 

You know what'd be nice? To be asleep in bed with you... to feel your warm body pressing against mine, snuggled against you as I slept. No doubt I'd be dreaming erotic dreams from the feel of your body, and I'd wake, hungry for you. But I wouldn't want to wake you abrubtly and demand sex from you, no matter how willing you'd be to give it to me. I'd want you to wake as slowly and pleasantly as I did. So at first I'd gently stroke you back, careful not to do it too lightly in case I tickled you. Then my hand would move lower, to your hips, and I'd place gentle kisses on your shoulders. As you slowly awoke, my hand would become more assertive, and I'd start stroking your penis and balls. You'd snuggle closer to me with a sigh of contentment as you finally became completely awake, realising what was happening. And then you'd start gently teasing me, stroking my body with your hands, delicately kissing me with you lips, and softly nipping at my flesh. You'd move down low, so the only part of you my hands could reach would be your head, and you'd nibble and tease at my thighs, until I could almost bear it no longer. I would spread my legs wide and part my lips, silently begging you to taste the juices that would be flowing freely by this stage. You'd grin evilly and bend down, lightly ficking your tongue over me, making me squirm uncontrollably. Your tongue would stroke me more firmly, feeling the hard bud of my clitoris, and tasing my arousal. You would slide a finger inside me, and I'd gasp in pleasure, feeling the tension building up inside me. By this stage, I'd be wanting to share the feeling with you, so I'd tug at you shoulders, trying to pull you closer. You'd be reluctant, but my insistance would win, and you'd move up over me. But now I'd take you by surprise and push you onto your back. I'd straddle your body, and move down lower, taking you into my mouth. I'd suck you gently, then flicker my tongue over the head, then suck more firmly. Finally I'd stroke you with my mouth, taking you deep inside me. But not for long - I would be careful you didn't come yet, you'd have to wait for me. I'd pull away to fit one of the condoms you left out onto you, then I'd shift forward and slowly and carefully push you inside me. Moving very slowly at first,so as not to make you come prematurely, I'd rock my hips, feeling you thrusting deep inside me. I'd increase the pace, as my peak got closer, moaning softly with pleasure. I'd feel your body tense beneath me just before you came, and this would trigger my own orgasm, and you'd feel my body shudder. Afterwards I would snuggle up to you, half wrapped around your body, stroking you and feeling completely relaxed in the after-glow. Slowly our breathing would return to normal, and the sweat would dry on our bodies. I'd run my fingers lightly over your stomach, tickling you, and you'd grab my hand and hold me closer. I'd press my hips against yours, and rub them gently, feeling you begin to be aroused again....Back to top

The Bride

Sarah looked at herself in her bedroom mirror. She was proud of the way she looked in her wedding dress. The glossy white satin clung to her slim figure, emphasizing the curves of her breasts and hips. The floor- length dress was sleeveless and backless, comfortable for the hot August weather, but still modest. It was a modern dress, with no lace or bows, and with straight lines and only a slightly flared skirt. She'd made the backless satin dress herself, and although she liked the dress, she was nervous about what to wear under it. It was too hot out for pantyhose, although she knew that was what her mother would wear under the circumstances, and she'd just taken off a pair of panties when she discovered that their outlines had shown clearly through the clinging white satin. As she debated what to put on under the dress, there was a knock on the bedroom door. "Can I come in?" her mother's voice asked. "Sure," she said, wishing her mother had waited until she resolved her problem. "You look beautiful," her mother said, "but your hair needs brushing." Her mother picked up a brush set to work. Sarah was nervous; her mother was assuming she was dressed, but she knew that she wasn't. She hoped that her mother wouldn't notice that she didn't have anything on under her dress, and she wished her mother would leave, even briefly, so she could slip on a pair of panties. "You know," her mother said as she worked at a small tangle. "I didn't like your idea for a wedding dress when you first told me about it, but it's really nice. I guess my idea of a wedding dress was bows and lace, but you look really good in a simple dress!" Sarah smiled at her mother's complement. "Do you think David will like it?" "I'm sure he will," she said, and then launched into a motherly lecture on marriage. Sarah listened quietly while her mother worked the last small imperfections out of her hair. She didn't pay much attention to her mother's words, but the tone was very relaxing, and as her mother brushed and talked, all of Sarah's anxiety slipped from her mind. "Oh my!" her mother said, looking at her watch. "We've got to be going. Your hair looks good, step into your shoes and come on!" Sarah slipped her bare feet into her white heels while her mother called to her father and brother. "Get the car going! Hurry up everyone or we won't get there on time!" Only after Sarah was halfway down the stairs did she remember that she still didn't have anything on under her dress. It was hot out, and her dress was comfortable against the bare skin of her legs and fanny so she decided to forget about underwear. As she walked through afternoon heat to the car, she had second thoughts. What if she got sweaty and the dress stuck to her bottom; wouldn't that look indecent? Her troublesome thoughts subsided as the car air-conditioner took hold, but they intensified as she walked through the August sun to the church. The shade inside the church was welcome, but it was still warm. In her youth, Sarah remembered that the church had been air conditioned, but it was too expensive to cool, and sometime before her teens, they'd stopped air-conditioning the place. Sarah's mind started to wander as her mother helped her put on her veil and long satin gloves. She wondered about the upcoming evening, and as she thought, she realized that she might turn her lack of underwear into something fun for David. Just thinking about the idea sent a tingle of pleasure through her, but as the organ began to play, all such thoughts were swept from her mind. "Go!" her mother whispered at the right moment. "And don't slouch!" The advice reminded Sarah of all the times that her mother had corrected her posture in the past, but this time, she didn't need reminding. She knew that if she slouched, the top of her dress would fall. It was easy for Sarah to stand tall as she walked into the church. She was proud to be there, she was excited to see David standing by the altar, and at the moment, she didn't care who was looking at her. David was beautiful in his blue three piece suit, but Sarah saw that he was sweating uncomfortably as she approached the altar. To Sarah, the service seemed to go quickly, with the minister's words washing over her as she stood looking at David. She found herself saying her vows before she expected it, and after one wonderful kiss, her mind started drifting to the coming evening as the minister gave his homily. The reception line was torture, an infinite series of limp handshakes by relatives she barely knew. She wanted to look at David, to hold him, to kiss him, but instead she had to deal with aunts and uncles who's names she'd forgotten. She was glad to be wearing satin gloves, if only to protect her from the long series of sweaty palms. Sarah wished that someone would find something new to say, but everyone seemed to tell her that she was a beautiful bride in exactly the same way. By the time they cut the cake, Sarah realized that her earlier fear that her dress would cling to her was coming true, but she noticed that most of the women there were having similar problems. She also noticed that the men seemed to be having worse problems in their suits and ties; many had taken their coats off and loosened their ties. As the groom, David didn't have that option, and he looked hot. As she posed with David for one last picture, Sarah felt the wonderful warmth of his touch and longed to be away with him. She was starting to become acutely self-conscious about her lack of underwear; whenever she saw someone looking at her, she found herself wondering if they knew. Rationally, she knew her fears were childish, but she couldn't suppress them. When the time came to leave, Sarah was glad to run with David through a shower of rice. His car was just ahead, decorated with "just married" signs and garlands of crepe paper, but David surprised her by pulling at her hand to guide her past the car and across the street. "Where are we going?" she panted as they jogged. "I can't run very far in this dress and these shoes!" "Here," David said, opening the door of a battered looking small car. "This isn't your car!" David laughed as he got in and started the engine. "I got it for a few hundred bucks two weeks ago so we could get away without a parade. Hope you don't mind disappointing my brother." Sarah laughed as she took off her veil. She knew that David's brother was the type who would organize a horn-honking chase as they drove away from the church through town. She and David had talked about it, and they both agreed that they didn't want to lead such a parade. She looked back when she heard other cars start, but they had a head start and David seemed to have his escape route planned. They turned down an alley to get out of sight of anyone on the side street they'd been parked on, then onto another side street a block away. As David stopped to wait for an opening in the busy traffic of the next street, she helped him off with his suit coat. They had time for a kiss before a break in traffic allowed them to head for the edge of town, and while David drove, she helped him undo his tie and get his vest off. Sarah looked over her shoulder as they drove, but their young relatives never did find them. "where are we going?" Sarah asked as they reached the city limits. Dav turned to smile at her briefly. "How do you feel about a honeymoon in a secluded farm house?" "Is it nice?" she asked, feeling a comfortable sensation wash over her in response to his glance. He looked comfortable with his shirt open at the neck, and his smile made it clear that he was as happy to be alone with her as she was. "It's on Uncle Bob's place. He got it from his neighbor's estate; the heirs were all far away and glad to unload the whole farm, farmhouse and all, in one deal. The place is furnished, I've stocked the fridge, and Aunt Jenny and I cleaned it up last week." "All my luggage was in the other car," she said, thinking of how little she had on. "I hope you've taken that into account in your planning." He glanced at her again. "Your mom told me your sizes, and I picked up a few things. Do you mind?" "No, it sounds fun," Sarah said. She wasn't really ready to trust David to buy her clothes, but she imagined that she might find out a bit about him from what he bought. Sarah watched the midwestern farmland roll by outside the window and let her dreams overtake her as they drove onward. The car wasn't air-conditioned, but the breeze through the open windows was enough to keep her comfortable. She reached over and held David's hand while he drove, and as she held him, she thought about the evening ahead. She also thought about the homework she'd done over the past month. Her doctor had given her interesting advice when she told him she was feeling a bit nervous about sex. She'd come away from that meeting with a reading list and a handfull of disposable syringe cases. The cases were plastic and vaguely phallic in shape, and her doctor had asked a nurse to tell her how to use them. At first, Sarah hadn't been very comfortable with the nurse's suggestion that she lubricate the syringe cases and, working up from the smallest, use them to stretch her vaginal opening. The nurse had even suggested that she try doing this while masturbating. Over the last month, Sarah had spent many evenings in bed wearing ever-larger syringe cases in her crotch while she read the books the doctor had suggested; there were a few evenings where she'd even ended up mastrubating, usually after she'd read something she found particularly exciting. Now, as she rode with David, she felt that she was reasonably well prepared. "Here we are!" David said after thirty or so miles of driving; the last ten miles had been over secondary roads, and the final two miles were unpaved. He pulled into a driveway that opened between two cornfields, then drove up a small hill. At the top was a classic midwestern Victorian farmhouse with a big porch and a tower with a weather vane on top. The house was shaded by a pine grove and surrounded by a lawn that looked like it hadn't been mowed in a year or more, but it was beautiful. The barns and outbuildings of the farmstead were at the base of the hill; as a result, they complemented the view of the the surrounding cornfields instead of blocking it. "I love it!" Sarah said as she stood by the car and took in the view. "Let me take you inside," David said, kissing Sarah as he lifted her. She cuddled against him with her arms around his neck as he carried her. The feel of one strong arm under her knees and the other across her bare back was exciting, and she could smell the pleasant aroma of his sweat as he carried her up the steps and through the open front door. He kissed her as he set her down, and she responded enthusiastically. A comfortable warm feeling swept over her as they kissed, and when he let go, she felt disappointed. "I never got to tell you how beautiful you look in that dress," David said. She smiled and posed briefly for him, then noticed that all the windows were open. "Do you always leave the house open like this?" "I opened it up last night to air out. There's no air-conditioning, but with the pines and the windows open, it's pretty nice. Want to have an early supper or look around the place first?" "I need some exercise to work off that wedding cake," Sarah said. "Show me the house! You really left it open all night without anyone home to close the windows if it rained? What about burglars?" He chuckled. "I admit I checked the weather report first. As to locks, though, this house hasn't been locked since my uncle got it; I don't see why I should lock it now. Follow me!" He led her on a tour. The place was furnished largely as it had been when it's previous owners died. It reminded Sarah of some of her own elderly relatives' homes. David took her up the spiral stairs to the tower to look at the view. The spiral stairs opened in a corner of the octagonal room at the top, and there was a big windows on each wall. It looked to Sarah as if there was more window than wall around the room; with the windows open, she felt like she was outside. They stood hand in hand looking out over the pine trees to the distant rolling horizon. Sarah had grown up in the suburbs, and the emptyness of the view was new. As she looked out over the fields through the haze of an August afternoon, she realized that nobody was out there to see her; she was exposed to the world, but she had as much privacy as in her own bedroom. With that thought, she realized that this was the perfect time for her to reveal how little she was wearing. She stepped back so she could see David, and she saw that he was looking intently at her. She felt a warm tingle of excitement run through her as she unzipped the short zipper at the back of her dress. She shrugged her shoulders so the straps holding the front of the dress fell free, then stood straight as the dress slid slowly to her ankles. David's eyes grew round as she stood there in her long white gloves and heels. She stretched as the thin layer of sweat evaporated from her body in the dry August breeze, then slowly walked up to David and hugged him. He backed away when she let go. "You wore that little to our wedding?" She chuckled. "I'll tell you how it happened later. Right now, I feel like consumating our marriage. Are you ready?" He looked at her, and as he did she felt a comfortable tingle in her abdomen. "OK," he said, sounding nervous. "Let me show you the master bedroom." She left her shoes by the dress, then followed him downstairs wearing only her long white gloves. "Here's a surprise for you," David said as they walked into the bedroom. "The old man had a problem with bedsores in his later years, so they got him a waterbed. The sheets are new, though, and I washed down the matress." He pulled back the bedspread to reveal white satin sheets. Sarah sat on the leather seat along the edge of the bed and looked at David. He was looking uncertainly at her, and after an awkward pause, Sarah broke the silence. "Is something wrong?" David blushed. "I guess I'm nervous about all this." He looked so serious that Sarah almost felt like laughing, but she knew that would be wrong. "Don't be silly, we've both seen each other naked before." "But we always had limits," he said. "I'm not sure what the limits are now." "Don't be shy," she whispered. "I'm all yours, and you're welcome to do anything, touch anything, kiss anything. Come sit with me." He sat beside her and she kissed him, then began to unbutton his shirt. Her hands shook as she worked, and she could see his hands shake as he undid his pants. Sarah had seen David's erect penis before, so she was prepared for it when it was freed from his pants, but at the same time, she felt an echo of his nervousness. David and Sarah kissed as they sat naked on the edge of the bed. His hands moved gently from Sarah's buttocks to her shoulders while she felt the wonderful expanse of his back. When she touched his erect penis, it sent a shiver of anticipation through her. It wasn't the first time she felt it, but the tingle of her reaction was more intense than before. Sarah rolled back onto the bed as David kissed her, and as they kissed, she felt his penis pressing between her thighs. She was a bit scared of it, but it also excited her. She thrust her tongue into Davids mouth as they kissed, and he responded in kind. As she grew more excited, she no longer wanted to kiss deeply, she wanted to kiss him everywhere. She nibbled on his earlobe and kissed his neck, then worked her way down his chest to kiss his nipples. David had once said that his nipples didn't seem as sensitive as hers, but she didn't believe him. She could feel his broad chest tremble as she sucked on him, and when she kissed his stomach and groin, the tremor continued. Sarah rolled over and let David kiss her. The comfortable feeling she'd felt in her gut expanded as he kissed his way down her neck, and it grew into an ache of anticipation as he kissed her breasts. She gently held his head as he kissed her, and as he kissed his way down her belly, she found herself pushing his head towards her groin. He kissed her briefly above her pubic hair, then on the inside of the top of each thigh. The warm tingle in her abdomen was intense, and she found herself spreading her thighs and thrusting herself at his face. He kissed his way back up along her body and hugged her again, his penis pressing tightly between her legs. "I want you!" she moaned, frustrated that he'd stopped. "I'm not sure what to do next," he whispered, sounding embarrassed. "You haven't done your homework!" Sarah whispered. "What homework?" "Studying about sex, silly," Sarah said, kissing him. She wasn't happy to discover that he hadn't taken the time to study the subject, but some of the books she'd read suggested that she shouldn't expect much more. Sarah thought briefly about what she'd read in the most helpful of the books she'd studied, Our Bodies -- Our Selves. "Roll on your back," Sarah said. "I know something we can try." She knelt over his hips and kissed him, feeling his erect penis lightly brushing her fanny as she kissed, then she sat up and held his penis in her hands while she pressed it between the lips of her vagina. She was nervous, but it felt good. His penis was getting wet, so she pushed it back and suddenly it slipped in, surprising her. She gently and slowly sat down on Davids hips, feeling the oddly painful but pleasant sensation of his penis inside her. He was lying on the bed with an intense look she didn't really understand, but his hands reached up and gently touched her breasts, and ever so slowly, she relaxed and began to experiment with rocking her hips. Each time her pubic bone pressed against his, she felt a wave of comfort wash through her body, and her excitement heightened as she bent forward so David could carress her body more fully. She hugged him between her knees as he started pumping his hips against her, and with each thrust of his hips, she felt a wave of pleasure wash through her body. It felt even better as she leaned forward so his pubic bone met her clitoris. She felt the explosion of his climax within her body as she pumped her hips up and down, and then her own climax washed over her. She lost all sense of time, not knowing if it lasted for a moment or forever. When it ended, she relaxed over him, reveling in the comfortable afterglow of her climax, her body still engulfing his penis as she hugged him. They rested that way for a long time, holding each other. Sarah could feel Davids flacid penis slowly slipping out of her, but when she sat up again, it slid back in. She smiled down at him as she nestled herself comfortably over his hips and rested her hands on his smooth belly. "Virgin no more!" she whispered happily.   Back to top

Busy

 A soft, firm knock on the door breaks your concentration as you bend over your work. With a sigh of resignation at yet another interruption to your busy day, you stand up, stretch (from the position you've held for far too long this afternoon), and walk to the door. As you pass through the room, your eye flicks with disapproval over the queue of waiting projects: this one needs you today, this tomorrow ... a flood of small, medium, and large tasks clamoring for your attention. Dodging assorted bric--brac, you reach the door and pull it open to a jingle of bells. You're surprised at who your visitor proves to be. Of the people you expected to find calling at this moment (the landlord, a neighboring friend, a salesman perhaps), he is not one of them. Murmuring greetings and apologies for the frantic activity you must return to, you half turn as he slips in, quietly closing the door behind him. At the lightest of touches on the shoulder, you glance about to face him, meeting his eyes. The world stops, and falls quiet for a moment. You vaguely feel the rest of your body turn towards him, but you sense it only in distantly, in slow motion. For a moment stretched over eternity, you are lost, caught by his look. Your mouth goes dry, a thousand things die unsaid in your throat, and a familiar thrill run through your body. Within you, a part of your mind wants to break away, continue with the comfortable rhythm of the day, but you've already flown beyond it. There can be a perfect, intimate, even sacred moment when the hunter and the prey become one, when a communion deeper than words runs between them. At this moment the yielding of the prey is a victory for both, the transfer and return of life, an exchange born of respect and desire. It is a moment, once in a thousand times if that, which drives the hunter to hunt, and as you close your eyes and raise your lips to his, you know that the hunted feels it as well. His lips are cool, as is the back of his neck as your arms circle him. He embraces you, and pulls you close against him; you can feel his arousal building already, and your body returns it without thought or effort from you. Your mind is a blur, but (far from a blank) it is full of images, desires, memories of similar times and those far distant, all blended together into a single, forceful desire to yield, to acknowledge his challenge and answer it with your submission which is a victory of both. The kiss seems to last forever; your tongues circle and dance like snakes, back and forth between your mouths, a dance as complicated as that of your wills, both driving to the same conclusion. You step back again, and again meet his glance; the final acknowledgement that you have given the single yes, that you will submit to him, knowing that in his mastery, it is your will to yield which gives it all meaning. You lead him to the side of the bed; you are surprised to discover that during the last glance, you undressed yourself, exposing yourself to his appreciative, hungry glance. (Although it might as well have been said that he undressed you; his will moved your hands to undo clasps and unfasten buttons as surely as if he had done it himself.) You start to undress him, feeling your own nakedness acutely, feeling every inch of your body, and especially the building arousal and moistness between your legs. You savour the touch of his clothes; you caress his now-bare chest, revelling in just the sensual feeling of your skin on his. Your explorations continue as you undo his pants, allowing them to fall in a pool at his feet, stepped out of quickly. Underwear dispensed with, your fingers stroke his erection, feeling the blood and tension of it. His hands rove over your body, feeling your breasts, rear, thighs. His lips follow, brushing and nibbling at your ear and throat, following down to your nipples, gently sucking; you gasp as his finger probes you, stroking around your clitoris, feeling your very wet, waiting lips. Maneuvering onto the bed, he pulls you atop him; the pressure of his cock on your groin is almost unbearably exciting and pleasant; you want to just pull up and slide him into you, but you pause as you kiss: the game is not yet played out. He slides up, reclining on the pillows, one hand behind his head, the other stroking you fondly, a broad smile on his face: the classic image of the master pleased with his slave. Your mouth descends over his chest, down his stomach. You lavish kisses on his penis, and slowly take him into your mouth. You feel him stiffen and softly moan as you work up and down his shaft, sucking, squeezing with your lips, your fingers caressing his balls and shaft. You flip your hair over, looking up to see his ecstactic expression as you slide your lips and tongue down to his balls, sucking one, then the other, into your mouth. You work him to the brink, closer, then farther, his hand on your head gently guiding you. He then gentle raises your lips to his, pulling you close to him, lavishing you with kisses and caresses. Lying you down on your back, he spreads your legs as his mouth plunges down into your pussy. He licks around and about the outside, just tasting and testing you. His tongue the spreads your inner lips, working up to your clit, where it slowly circles, gently increasing the pressure as you writhe and buck to match his rhythm. His fingers find you, and penetrate you, first one, then two, sliding deep into you and finding sensitive spots within. Your thoughts completely scatter as you feel the first orgasm building within you; when it comes, you moan, scream, thrash as he licks, sucks, teases you with his tongue and fingers. A second, and then a third, pour out of you as he continues, first lower, then faster, matching the pace of your arousal. Then, suddenly, he rises, and, half-kneeling over you, he slides into you. The actual penetration is so sudden, so filling and intense, that another climax floods through you. You pick up his rhythm, grinding together, rising to meet his thrusts. The orgasms come again and again, blending into one another, until you feel your own bodies seem to blend together: one span of sensation, touch, taste ... you vaguely remember turning about on your hands and knees, bending over, offering yourself up to him with spread legs, writhing hips, soft moans ...you vaguely remember his thrusting into you as you pushed back into him ... you vaguely remember mounting him, sliding up and down on his shaft, feeling it fill you ... you vaguely remember, in answer to a forgetten question, the complete submission of a your gasped yes, master ... And you remember his climax, his face contorted with ecstasy and concentration, as he filled you, pumped into you, hot, wet, your climax overwhelming as you collapse together ... You roll over and look about the room. The waiting projects are still there, still staring at you. You smile, softly, and gently stroke your lovers arm; he returns your smile. The busy day can wait, for a moment longer.  Back to top