Adult Story

I AM CURIOUS (Eighteen)

This is the continuing story of Lola who is still a very curious girl. This one is considerably shorter than the first story, I Am Curious (Fourteen). Hope you enjoy reading it!

The Grinning Man 2: In the Suburbs

The creature only known as Grinning man haunts another cute girl. The eighteen year old gets to talk with him, and knows there’s something wrong about him. Besides just his apperance. He stalks the girl, then makes his move. The end-game result… Checkmate.

Qarinah

I was exhausted and I realized that no matter how hard she rode me I would never cum. She was using me for her gratification and I would never cum.

Amandine

Chapter 1: the starting point
I am 25 and I work for a company that does social researches: people behavior, response to a particular situation… During election times, we can conduct polls. 80% of our business comes from food brands: what does the consumer need? What are the flavor that he prefers?…
What I do in this company is quite simple: I collect data. I am not really found of my job but it does not bore me, I have a decent salary and most of the time my works hour are really correct. If I say most of the time it is because of the project I am working on. Basically, I have to look people sleeping. There is an atmosphere of mystery behind this project: we do not know who it is for or why. Rumors say that it is for a pharmaceutical company which does trial on a sleeping pill. Others say it is a test for different mattress.
The idea is quite simple: people have accepted to have a camera in their room for a year and to be taped sleeping. A bedroom is quite a private place so they have a remote control to shut down the camera for 3, 8 or 12 hours in a row. All people that have accepted this weird demand are single. So if there are two people (or more) in the room, the camera identify it thanks to heat control and shut down by itself, unless if someone working for my company (as myself) turn it on manually. But when we do that, every one of us has a personal code: if we are tempted to turn it on for the show down, big brother will know who did it. I think you understood it, everything is done to keep the privacy of the “subjects”. If things are not getting hot, we are expected to turn on the camera.
If I have accepted to work on this project is for several reasons. First of all, sometimes we have to watch people sleeping in direct. I am not a weird guy but this means night hours salary… I can also work at home (download the video and look at them on my personal computer). And most of all, I have a lot of free time. As I do not need to sleep a lot, I do not have to catch my night working hours. As I want to become an engineer, I work on my computer skills on my free time.
We are three to work on this project (as “data collector” of course). And we have agreed all together to always work on the same subjects. I consider myself as the lucky one. My luck is the subject of this story and she has a name: Amandine.
Amandine is a brunette single mother. As you can imagine, she is gorgeous. She is a petite brunette with what seems a killer body. If I say “seems” it is because I haven’t actually seen it, yet. And it is obvious that she does what she can to hide her assets from the camera. At the beginning.
During the first month, all of the subjects were obviously too aware of the camera. They were turning it off for any purpose, Amandine including. But as everyone was forgetting the presence of the Eye, she was obviously not. I cannot say why I have this feeling because like anyone, she was less and less bothered by the intruder. From the beginning, I had a particular interest on her, which is perfectly understandable: we all spend more time on what is interesting at our work and in mine, everything was the same except of the look of my subjects. On that topic, she had a better hand that anyone else among my subjects. But my interest on her increase when my feeling persist: she was (almost) always aware of the camera but she would act as she was forgetting it.
At the beginning, it was nothing; and maybe it really was nothing. A drawer left open. An untied bed. Her pajamas on a chair. And then it was the door of her bathroom not totally close, but not open enough to let me see her, or I could see her walking out of her bathroom only covered with her SERVIETTE because she had forgotten her clothes in her room. I find women dressed like that really sexy. As I was watching her the first day that this happened, I had quite a boner waking up in my pants. But nothing more happened.
One Sunday afternoon, I was at work, watching at my subjects on “direct” as Amandine walked into her room. She closed her door with the lock, something she did not do a lot. And open a drawer of her desk. Before I can see what she was looking for, she turned off the camera. For three hours. Most of the time, this means sex, or masturbation. And from my “knowledge” of her, this was not an exception. She never locked her door, and when she did she was turning off the camera for 3 hours. Every time. What was new in this pattern was the drawer. I had to review the scene several time to find what was really weird.
She comes in her room and locks her door. Normally, she would take the remote of the camera on her left, in its usual place, and turn it off, but here no. She walks through her room, passes her bed, straight for her desk and the drawer. She opens the drawer and the camera is shutting down. What I missed the first time was the remote of the camera on the side of her bed. When she passed it, she took the remote without me seeing it. It has been three months that I have watch her living in her room and I consider that I quietly know her. I have even witness several time her strange relationship with her daughter, but I will talk about that later. The remote is always at its place (close to the door when she is not in her room, and on the table beside her bed when she is in), never on the bed. Never. Except this time. I had to go back to the morning to see how the remote had ended on the side of the bed. She put it here when she put her shoes. Usually, she sits on her bed an put her shoes but this time, she knelt at the end of her bed to put her shoes. As she had the remote on her hand, she put it on the bed. One month earlier, I would not have notice it. But if there was one thing that I had learned from the project I was working on at this day, it was that habit was though, especially morning habits. You are not totally wake up so everything you do, you do it automatically. My findings were confirmed by two signs. The first one was the quick look to the camera when she had finished to put her shoes. It was a look, but too quick to be a “normal look”. She did not want to be seen looking at it. The second sign was the little smile she had when she automatically put her hand on her bed to pick up the remote but living it where it was. Again, I could have believed that she used her bed to stand up but it was too much coincidence at once…
So I waited; three hours.
When the camera turned on by itself, nothing unusual was on the screen. She was sleeping on her bed, dressed. I was expecting something, I do not know what but I was disappointed that everything was normal. If everything was normal, I may have been wrong on my reading of her behavior. I hate being wrong. So I look closely.
I have only one thing to say: Oh, my.
I first zoomed on her face. She was not sleeping. When you sleep, your eyes are moving by themselves, fast. Hers were not. I aimed a little lower and I looked at all her body, closely. I cannot say that I never was tempted to do that but I did not do it until that day. I liked what I see. Her bra was unfastened. She was wearing a shirt but obviously she had unfastened her bra at a point during these three hours. Her shirt had only three button on: I could see the color of her bra, black, and her belly button on a perfect belly. The button of her jeans was open, all of them but without discovering too much – just that her panties were matching. And at last, her legs were slightly opened. Obviously she had enjoyed the services of her hand.
I looked at her like that for fifteen minutes, with a raging hard on. She was not showing a lot but this was one of the hottest things I had ever seen on a screen. I was beginning to jerk off when she roll on her bed. Her left hand “naturally” went on her right breast and massaged it for three second, through the fabric of her clothes. Until that day, I was a little (just a little) ashamed of watching her more than my others subjects. That was why I did not acknowledge what I was seeing even to myself. But when her hand were rubbing her breast, one think was obvious: she had big breasts; too big for her little hands, perfect for a man hands.
I was so hypnotized during these three second that I almost missed something. A moment before, she was lying on her dildo. When I saw this, I came. For my defense, I had only two “women” (read “girls in their early twenties”) in my life and it had been quite a time since I had intercourse. At that time, I was horny, all the time.
This day, before leaving work, I uploaded the tapes on my computer. I watched again the video at home and what I saw was making me look forward to the next time. Just when she ended rubbing her breast, Amandine had opened her eyes, looked at the camera and smiled.
Fate had put me an exhibitionist in my “subject”: a hot one, and subtle too. What will she let me see next time?
As I have said earlier, Amandine and her daughter have a strange relationship. They like to tease each other. Do not get me wrong, I had never witnessed inappropriate behavior even though they were really close: they were spending a lot of their time in Amandine’s room. As they were mother and daughter, every time that the camera was automatically turned off (two heat source, remember?) when they were together, I would put it on right afterwards.
Amandine and her daughter are not alike. Amandine was a petite brunette with big breast and an firm body: long legs (given her body), a firm perfect ass, breasts I was craving for and glasses. Quite the caricature of a porn secretary you would say. Maybe but she had something more. She had character in her body. Her daughter was blonde and a (top?) model to be: tall, a cute ass, little breasts (she did not wear bras, for my enjoyment) and a perfect figure. From their conversations, I had learned that she was underage for five more months. I did not get her name thought.
As I said, no inappropriate behavior but a lot of teasing. They would compliment each other a lot on their sex appeal (no hypocrisies needed, believe me). And it was on a regular basis that I would hear conversation like this one (on both ways):
– Well, we should stop chatting. I have a shower to take.
– Yeah, me too. Who goes first?
– We both know that the second one will have cold water, huh?
– You’re right… You want to take a bath with me?
– Eeeh… stop tempting me, someday I will say yes
I think you understand.
During all these monthes of watching the mother, I learned one last thing on the daughter. She was not aware of the camera. Do not get overexcited. The daughter was not an indecent girl. But I managed to have a good peek of her legs. She was lying in bed with her mother, after their showers (consecutive showers, not the same one), in their bathrobe. To put it simple, the daughter teased her mother with her legs. Amandine was obviously not comfortable with this. But I think she thought that the camera was turned off. Someone had explained her that when there were two people (or more) in the room, there would not be any eavesdropping. She must have forgotten that if nothing would seemed to happened, I was able to turn it on. Something I was doing each time that she was with her daughter.
Time was passing by. I was improving my computer skills and Amandine was becoming each day naughtier with the camera. The second time she teased the camera was the next Sunday after the first one.
She walked into her room, locked her door, took the remote and put off her top, face to the door. She glanced at the camera over her shoulder, smiled and… black. When I saw this video, I was at home. For me, the message was clear: I would have a quick show every Sunday from now on. And I was right.
From this point, I volunteer for every work hours on Sundays. And I was right, every Sundays, I had my little show.
At first, she stopped “hiding” the dildo. She walked into her room, locked her door, went to the drawer, took the dildo, looked at the camera and black. The following Sunday, she took the dildo, wrapped it with her hand in a provocative way and black. The next time, she caressed it around five seconds while smiling at the camera. The next Sunday, she took off slowly her top at the door of her room and faced the camera. She was wearing a red bra. She slowly run a finger on her chest before reaching her dildo, caressing it while looking the camera and… black. Every time, it was not more than twenty seconds but I was expected this moment during all week. She did not miss one single Sunday. Soon, she began to kiss the dildo. Lick it. One day, she was on her bra with her jeans open, I could see her white tongue. While she was kissing and licking her dildo, for the first time she put her other hand in her pants and she began to massage her crotch. I knew at that moment that I should have turn down the camera myself: until now it was borderline, but this was a step were I had to put an end if I wanted to keep my job. Unfortunately I was on “direct” so I did not have any excuses. I wanted to make it stop but I could not help myself and I let her finish her show. She slowly caressed her skin with her dildo: from her chest, passing between her breast (the white bra was forcing her boobs to wrap it), on her belly to her panties. She looked at me and BLACK. I had never been that frustrated but the black on the screen (with a countdown: 02:58:46) made me come back to reality. I was screwed. If my boss was to check my work and find out that I did not turn it down, I was sure to lose my job.
Like I said, I like my job; and during this period I was LOVING it. I did what needed to be done: I put my computer skills on practice. At least, I decided to give it a try. It took me four hours but I was able to do it: I went into the hard drive and make it look like I stopped the camera for three hours at the proper time. Of course, when I found how to do it I make sure to have a copy of the “movie” before erasing it. I had missed my lovely Amandine after three hours of “rest” but I did not care. Nobody could find that I erased some video. The problem was that it was easy to realize that I cracked the program. I had to find an answer to that. I had all the evening and all night to do so.
I did so.
Monday morning, the first thing I did was to go to my boss office:
– Hi Pete, do you have a minute?
– Sure, what’s up?
– Well I have a confession to make…
– What did you do? at that point he seemed a little worried.
– You do know that I try to become what I would call a computer engineer, don’t you?
– Yes of course, everyone knows that. I, myself, think that is a great initiative. You drop out school to early and you have the capacities to have a better job.
– Thank you…
– Yeah. So, how about your confession?
– Well, I was a little bored at work yesterday all alone, watching mostly empty rooms and…
– And?
– Well, I would say that I practice my courses and I hacked our system.
– You did WHAT?
– Calm down please, this was really stupid, I know but I did nothing in it. In and out, that’s it.
– In and out?
– Yeah, in and out. You can check it if you want.
– Well, I will surely do so. We will do on with this discussion after. You can leave and go to work now.
I know, my excuse was not perfect. But sometimes, the biggest lies are the better… and I admit that I did not find anything better. I was hoping to be as good as I thought so regarding computers. In the end of the afternoon, Pete called me in his office. What we all like in Pete, it is his capacity to find opportunities everywhere. He explained to me that a technician had come all day and was confirming my story. In and out. No harm done. This was a relief, but what stunned me was his proposition: “Look, wouldn’t you become our local technician for minor issues. You will practice your skills and fix problems as bug when your team downloads a lot of videos at the same time. But you have to promise me that you will never “give it a try”. You touch the system only if you are sure of what you are doing. Is it OK with you?” Useless to say that it was.
Since that day, I knew that I could turn off a camera afterwards: I did know how to erase recordings without leaving evidence, and it would be normal to go in and out of the system. My mind was running with possibilities, possibilities with always Amandine at the center of it. To prevent any misunderstanding, I would not have to try to turn on a camera. I just could keep to myself what my subjects allowed me to watch.
I have to admit something. Every “show” that Amandine gave me was great and really hot, but none of them was close to the first one. And the last one. The last one is well ahead of the others. Before telling you this last one, I have to precise two things. The first one is that I had deleted all the show she gave me thanks to the free access to the system provided by Pete, my boss. And the second one was an improvement I made to the same system, again with the approval of Pete. I had put a 10 second countdown for every automatic shutting down of the camera. In ten seconds, it is rare that something happens. But was long enough for the watchers to know if they could keep on watching or not. Obviously, I had a personal purpose to this. I became addicting to watching Amanda, not only the Sundays but all of the week, and I hated the time lost when her daughter went into her room and I had to turn on the camera. These ten seconds were allowing me to watch her almost continually.
One Sunday, I was at work waiting for Amandine. For all these weeks, she had followed her schedule really regularly but this one time she was late. I was desperate: maybe she would not come? She did not have to come… maybe she got bored, or found a new game. After fifteen minutes of waiting, she walked into her room. Obviously, she had dressed up for me… in her daughter’s clothes: white tennis shoes, long black socks, a black skirt above her knees and a white shirt.
As hot as she was, I was shocked. I had never expected this, and she was taking a big step for this Sunday. I was mesmerized by her look when she walked toward the camera, in the drawer direction. Like I said, she was not like her daughter. Therefore, she was not fitting the clothes that she had on: the skirt had to be a little higher than how her daughter was wearing it and, most of all, the skirt was too tight for her breasts: the top three buttons were open but the breast was nonetheless pushing two hard nipples against the tissue. She was obviously turned on. As for myself, I had a boner of a lifetime.
She put the dildo out of its drawer and she began to hungrily suck it. She was finally sucking it in front of the camera! I was so excited that I almost cum in my pants without touching myself. As she was thrusting her dildo in her mouth with her right hand, the left one was aiming the remote to the camera. She was killing me with lust! She blinked at the camera and did not turn off the camera. She was beginning to moan.
She stopped sucking her toy, put it on the edge of her bed and came close to the camera. I mean really close. I was only seeing her mouth and then she said with a low sexy voice:
– I know you’re watching baby. The red dot is giving you away, you naughty boy. I am sure that you have realized that from the beginning to today, I have never cleaned my little friend. Trust me, the taste I have in my mouth right now is sweat and delicious.
That was it. I came in my pants, without touching myself. She just gave me the best orgasm of my life. Better than the two women I had been with. She had been better than them without touching me, just on a screen, with one sentence.
When I regained contact with reality, she was turning her back to the camera and bending down with straight legs. I could almost see her ass. Obviously, the “almost” was on purpose. I opened my pants with shaking hand and put my dick out. She had her panties around her ankles. After three strokes, I had my second orgasm. I was so mad at myself!
– I’m sure you are expecting to see a little more than usual, aren’t you? Weeell… you won’t. Do not be too disappointed, I am sure you will enjoy yourself.
She took her dildo and faced the camera. Her “friend” was moving by itself… it was motoring! This was becoming more than interesting: for the first time, she was talking to the camera and I was about to see her masturbate. She put her dildo under her skirt and after a long moan, her hands came out of her cunt empties.
Her left hand went cupping her breast while the right one immediately went back in her skirt, massaging her cunt. I had seen her a lot of time more undress that this day but sometimes clothes on are more sexy than off. Not always, but sometimes. She began to moan louder and louder.
– Mmmh… Ohh. Oh this feels so… much good. Fuck yeah, I love this vibration in my tight cunt. Oh my god, this is so hot to know that you are watching, I will definitely not last long. My hand is so wet… so wet. Look (she put her hand out of her skirt). Do you realize that it is you that make me that wet? Let me suck my hand clean for you, ok? Mmmmh… I taste so fucking good! Oh my god, it is already coming! I am going to cum! Do you hear me up there? I am about to cum! In just a few seconds. It will be so fucking great don’t you think? AAAahhh! But… mmh… but… fuck yeah… I won’t let you see it.
And quickly she reached her remote and put the button to turn down the camera. I was so angry at her for doing this to me! This second was one of the luckiest in my life. In her rush, she did not push hard enough the button to shut the camera off. My angriness was replaced by a feeling of victory… this was much more good than if she had let me watch! She would not overplay her role but would act natural. One second before she climax…
– I am going to take a showeeeh… Mom! What are you doing in my clothes?!
Her daughter entered the room in her bathrobe. Amandine had forgotten to lock her door. I did not know if I was overexcited or mad: it was clear that the daughter had put an end to the mother coming orgasm but meanwhile, I was watching a mother with a dildo in her cunt, extremely hot, trying to find an explanation for wearing her little baby clothes.
– Are you masturbating???
– NO!… I, hum… I was just… Oh, fuck… yeah I am.
Amandine finished her sentence with an inaudible voice, ashamed. She quickly put her hand under a skirt, and took it off holding a wet dildo.
– I am really sorry for this baby girl. Believe me. But if I did not do that I would have… hum… you know… in front of you and I could never…
– Cool toy mom! You should have shown it to me sooner. I would have enjoyed it!
Amandine and I were so surprised by this reaction that we did not notice that she had took a step toward her mother, standing really close to her.
– Let me see it?
Before Amandine could respond anything, her daughter took the dildo in her own hand.
– And it is moving by itself! Well, this is a real piece of high tech dildo you have it.
– Stop this, said Amandine with a low voice.
– You’re right. We should put it where it belongs.
In a blink of an eye, she push her mother on the bed and knelt between her legs. Not too fast, not too slow, she lifted the skirt and approached the dildo to her mother cunt. Unfortunately for me, I did not have a good angle: I was seeing the mother, her great cleavage, but the shirt was hiding what her daughter was doing to her.
– Oh dear, it is as if it was moving in by itself!
– Stop doing that! I… oh my god!
– You’re enjoying it, aren’t you?
– That’s not the point!
– I have to disagree on this.
As she was saying this sentence, she got up between her mother’s legs naked. My appreciation of her body earlier did not make her justice. She was not a top model to be. She was what you see in a top model, not the women with anorexia but a young woman that would not have to bushed faced to Marilyn, Angelina or any superstar. She had almost perfect breast (one cup larger would have been a dream come true) with pink little nipples, a flat stomach and a tiny blond line covering her most private part. She began moving her hips while fucking her mother with the dildo. Even though Amandine was protesting, her legs moved by themselves and wrapped her daughter torso. The bond girl begun to stroke her mother chest through the skirt. The moaning became louder.
This was finished with one last, fast and hart stroke from the dildo.
They were both lying on the bed, out of breath.
– Oh my god, what have we done?
– Nothing baby girl. Do you understand me? Nothing. You go take your bath and we never talk about this, ever.
As her daughter took her bathrobe and went to the bathroom. Amandine stayed on her bed.
I quickly turned off the camera. I did not want her to see the red dot and understand that I had seen everything. After that, I download the sequence on a CD and erased its existence on the system.
It was only as I was in bed this evening that all the possibilities that this video was offering me hit me. Regarding the law, Amandine had raped her daughter.
The experiment would last two more months. I had this time to come with a plan, and find Amandine’s address.

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Baseball Boy Zack

There was this amazingly hot boy that lived across the street from me, his name was Zack. I would sit in the living room of my parent’s house and stare out the window at him as he tossed the baseball around with his friend. That summer he played on a local team and it seemed like everyday he was outside in his tight white baseball pants tossing the ball around to get warmed up. Zach was 13 years old at the time and I was seventeen. He had the cutest little faint freckles on his face, big brown eyes, and blonde hair. He was around 5’5 and 120 lbs. I was 6’0 and 170 lbs; I was a built guy because I played football for my high school team.
I would watch as his ass pressed against those tight white pants when he made his pitches in the front yard and almost every time he came back up he would reach down and adjusts himself in his athletic cup. It was so hot watching this sexy boy play with himself. I would watch the flexing of his arm, the way his wrist broke after every pitch, and sit and fantasize about what I would do to this incredible boy.
One day I sat on my couch watching him play outside with his friend. It was a hot June afternoon, and he was outside in jean shorts with no shirt throwing a football. His Mom and Dad came out of the house with his two younger sisters and said that they were leaving. As they left Zack went into the house and sent his friend home because he had to get ready for a baseball game.
I saw my chance. It was only three o’clock and nobody really was home in my neighborhood. Zack’s parents were the only ones who worked from home, mostly kids were around and they were at the park down the street in the community pool. So I went for it. I walked around back and found the door unlocked. I could hear him upstairs and the shower running. I crept up the stairs and got to the bathroom door. It had one of those old fashion doors with the big key hole you could see through, so I knelt down and looked through. I could slightly see him through the frosted glass doors. I could see the outline of his body and soap running down his ass.
I felt my shorts tenting and adjusted myself. I looked in again to see the door opening and he stepped out in all his glory. The light made the water on his body glisten. I could see his limp boy cock sway as he walked to the hamper and grabbed his towel. I quietly stood up and walked to his room. I saw that he had already laid his baseball gear onto his bed. I picked up his cup and smelled the ball sweat of the hottest boy I had ever seen. I laid it back down and went into his closet. I looked through the blades on the door and waited for him.
A few minutes later he walked in with the towel wrapped around his boyish hips. As he shut the door he let the towel fall to the ground and he was walking around naked. I could see the amazing curve of his great ass. This boy was almost hairless, very little cock hair, and very thin leg hair which you really could see. As he walked around getting things together I became rock hard. My 7 inch cock was ready to bust of shorts, so I slid my pants boxers off I was now in the closet with only a shirt on which I took off. As he walked toward the bed and started to grab his underwear to put on I opened the door and quietly walked up behind him. I was inches from him standing there completely nude. He bent over to start putting his underwear on and his ass pushed into my dick causing it to poke at his hole. He quickly stood up and found only a fist that sent him sprawling on the bed. As he laid there unconscious I rolled him over to taste his tongue and made out with him with no help form his end. I tied his baseball shirt around his eyes and kissed him one last time. I started playing with his little boy package. He was limp when I took him in my mouth, rolling my tongue around his little head slurping on his dick. Then I staring lapping my tongue on his balls taking them into my mouth and sucking on them. He started getting hard so I started sucking him again. I moved up and down fast, sucking, slurping, and licking when he busted a load into my mouth. He started to come to as I sat up and kissed him letting some of his cum fall into his mouth. I sat up swallowing the rest. I rolled him over as he spat his cum onto the bed I had him bent over the bed with his knees on the floor. As I positioned myself on his ass I leaned over and licked up his wonderful tasting boy juice. I spit it on my hand and lubed up his asshole and my dick with his own cum.
As my dick became slippery I pushed it in as he started to resist. As my dick tore into his asshole I stopped leaned over him and whispered “If you fight me I will hurt you more, relax and it will all be over soon..”
I sat back up and pumped my cock in and out of his tight virgin hole. It slid in and out and it felt so good. He relaxed a little and I put my hands on his hips and pulled him back into me as I thrusted forward. I fucked him as he started to cry asking me “please stop, please stop.” But I didn’t. His cries only seemed to make me want him more. He whimpers and groaned with every thrust forward. I felt my balls ready to go and pushed in hard as I jizzed into his asshole. Shooting one, to, three, four ropes of salty white cum. Once I came down I pulled out and stuck my finger in his asshole pulling out some of my cum. I held it to his mouth and told him to suck my finger clean or he would regret it. Apprehensively he opened his mouth and I stuck my finger in. I took my finger out, stood up, got my clothes and left. I stole one last look as I exited seeing him bent over the bed.
When I got home I called the cops and told them I saw a prowler snooping around Zack’s house. When they showed up to take my statement I told them I didn’t recognize him but gave them a description. I gave them mine.

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Prey For My Soul

Confession of an Old Necrophile:
Prey For My Soul
By: blue.beard
I thought I would share some of my past adventures with you. Now that I’m almost retired, you’ll probably blow these off as the stories of a dirty old man. Maybe they are… Lisa came into my life in my middle twenties. I was living in New Orleans at the time, and had already worked out some of my techniques. Onward with the tale:
The first thing that impresses you is the noise and the swirling crowds almost like a moving kaleidoscope as you are walking town the street. There are people everywhere, there is music coming out of the doorways. Each doorway has a different tune, each doorway at full volume. The people on the street are shouting and dancing, some of them are drunk, some of them are staggering around not knowing what to do. Policemen are standing there watching or walking the street ready for any trouble.
As I strolled, I was wondering for the umpteenth time that night, why I decided to come back. It had been years since I had been on Bourbon St. during Mardi Gras weekend. But it brought back memories: the smell of bodies, both washed and unwashed, going by, the sight of pretty girls–and pretty boys– too, if you wanted to look at them that way; the smell of stale beer overwhelming everything. Everybody seemed to be having a good time. I was enjoying myself, not really doing much of anything except watching, trying to figure out why people believed that getting drunk in a mob scene was supposed to be so great.
I looked up at a balcony trying to see what the hell was going on, when I got bumped so hard that I fell flat on my ass. I looked ‘round to find a young girl knocked over also. We stared at each other for a second, dumfounded, and then I realized that I didn’t want to make a scene. In that crowd, any kind of scene could get dangerous, even the good ones. I stood and helped her up. I moved us against a wall, away from the surge of the crowd. She was a short thing, maybe five feet, weighing about 90 pounds, curly dark hair, and big beautiful eyes. I said “Are you O.K.?”
“I think I am.” She checked her backpack, “I was looking around, and I didn’t see you. I’m very sorry.”
“No problem,” I said, “are you going anywhere in a hurry?”
“No, I was just sightseeing.”
“Let me get you a cup of coffee, we can unwind and see what’s going on.” I offered her my hand and she accepted it.
We took to the side streets, working our way toward the river and a little Chinese restaurant I knew, where we ordered coffee. I studied her, nineteen, maybe, and ragged.
“Hungry?” She nodded gratefully. I ordered mandarin duck and subgum fried rice.
She began to relax. “I’m George,” I offered.
“Lisa, ” she said it half defiantly, half in confession, then, as if in apology, “I just got in today.”
“Where are you from?”
“New York City,” her accent did not match this.
We talked for a while, and she told me that she had just graduated high school last year, and came down on the spur of the moment when she heard that Mardi Gras was this week. She did not have any friends in town, had no place to stay, and had little money. I asked her if she wanted to stay at my place, and she agreed.
“But,” I said, “there’s one thing that has to be settled first. I don’t really care who you are, or where you’re going, I’m not about to turn you in or anything, but why are you lying to me?”
“What are you talking about?”
“First, you aren’t from New York, I lived there for five years, and your accent doesn’t match. Second, you look to be very young. Third, you are a very bright girl, and, I believe, basically honest. You don’t like to lie. I think that you’re running from something.”
“How can I trust you?”
“You want references? If you don’t trust me, you can leave, though I would like for you to stay. I like you, and would enjoy knowing you better. But, a friendship cannot be built on lies.”
She asked me for a cigarette. Her hands were shaking when I lit it for her. She slumped down in the booth. “You won’t turn me in?”
“Lisa, you’re intelligent, and pretty mature. I won’t turn you in unless you’re ripping off someone, or harming them against their will.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Just what I said. I like you, and won’t do anything to you against your will, but I do not like being lied to.” She flicked the ash off her cigarette, and slumped back, rubbing the fresh scars on her wrist.
“You ran away from a hospital.”
She looked at me, “How did you know that?”
“I’ve had some experience with mental hospitals, my ex-wife was in and out of them. Those scars on your wrist are no more that two months old.”
She looked at me, and her eyes were heavy with tears. “You’re right, please don’t call anybody.”
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to, I don’t know where to call. I wouldn’t wish the police on anybody, unless they deserved it. I do not believe in ‘protecting’ people against their will. I do believe in helping people work out their own solutions. I would really like to help you, if you’ll let me.”
“I’m eighteen, but my name is Lisa.”
“Lisa, thank you for your trust, but this is not the place to discuss this. Why don’t we finish dinner, relax, and talk about it later, if you want.”
Dinner arrived about then, and we talked some more, getting acquainted. It turned out that she was into jazz and country music, played the guitar, and her favorite poet was Sylvia Plath.
After dinner, I suggested that we take her back pack home and come back later. She agreed to this. On the way to the car, she held on to my hand, but was quiet. I let her be.
When we were driving home, she tucked her legs under her and turned to looked at me. I kept quiet and drove.
“You’re right, I did run away from a mental hospital. I attempted suicide, and the shrinks were fucking with my mind. I couldn’t stand it any longer, and ran away.”
“Are you still suicidal?”
“Yes”
“I have three rules in my house. No ripping off, no loud noises, and no suicides without the landlord’s permission. Fair enough?”
She laughed, “Yes.”
About that time, we arrived at the house. After showing her the facilities, and explaining that she had a choice between sleeping in my bed or the mattress in the study, I asked her if she wanted to go back downtown or stay home and watch a movie. She agreed that she had seen enough of the crap downtown.
I selected a movie about teenage suicide on the VCR, and we settled down on the couch to watch. During the movie, she burrowed into my armpit, but put her full attention to the movie. At the halfway point, after the kids killed themselves, she sat up and asked me to stop the movie.
She asked me for a cigarette, and as she lit it, a tear fell on her hand. “Why did you choose this movie? Are you trying to fuck with me?”
“Just a little bit, suicide is something that has interested me for years.” I showed her the scars on my wrists. “I first attempted suicide when I was twelve years old. I actually enjoy this movie, and find it highly arousing. I thought you would also enjoy it. It seems to be a topic you are very interested in.”
She said, “I am, but it does upset me at the moment.”
“Why is that?…Are you suicidal now?”
“Yes”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am.”
“What’s stopping you? You’ve run away from the hospital, you are out free, why haven’t you done it?”
“I’m scared, and I don’t want to fuck it up and hurt myself.”
I sat back and lit up a cigarette. “I have one more question, why are you so upset?”
“I don’t know, you are getting me all worked up, and I don’t know why. You’ve already told me I can’t do it here.”
“No, what I said was that suicide was a no-no without the landlord’s permission.”
“You mean I can?”
“I didn’t say that, definitely not if you are this upset. Death is a stage we all must pass through. Some do it sooner than others, and some never accept it, but still, eventually die.
“It’s normal to be nervous when taking such a big step. But, it’s not right to be upset. If you are volunteering to commit suicide, you should be at least content and sure of your choice.
“I want you to do a little exercise for me. I would like you to take a pencil and make two lists for yourself: one, a list of the advantages of living; and two, a list of the advantages of dying. I’ll leave you alone for a while, and we’ll discuss them later.”
I got up and gave her a pencil and notebook. She asked me for another cigarette, and sat back on the sofa with the notebook in her lap.
“I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be back in about 20 minutes. If you need anything, just help yourself.”
When I got out of the shower, I put on an old pair of hospital scrubs, and went out to the living room. She was sitting in the chair looking over the list she had made. She looked up when I came in, licked her lips, and handed me the list with a slightly shaking hand.
“Let’s see,” I said, taking the list and sitting on the sofa.
“Under the advantages of living, you have sex, good food, the possibilities of good friends and good books. Is there anything else you want to add?”
She raised her eyes to me, “No, but what about the other list?” she sat up straight.
“Under the advantages of dying, the list is a lot longer,” I settled back and lifted the page. “Never getting sick, never having to work, not worrying where the next meal comes from, not having to wash clothes, not having to worry about what to wear, never being embarrassed, never worrying about being pregnant, not worrying about aids or v.d., not having to brush your teeth or worry about body odor, not having periods,” I looked over to her, “All these things may be true, but they’re all negatives. Can’t you think of one positive advantage of dying?”
“You’re fucking with me just like my shrink, why can’t you just listen to me?”
“Hey, hold on, all I’m trying to do is to get you to think straight. Dying should be a positive act, not an escape. Suicide should, if at all possible, be joyous. Come on, try to think of some positive reasons.”
She uncrossed her legs, sat up and looked at the floor for several minutes. I lit a cigarette, and looked at her. She looked at me, “How about perfect relaxation, freedom from worry, and freedom from responsibility?”, she was wiping her hands on her jeans. “No, there is no positive, death is the perfect negation.”
“What’s the matter, you seem nervous about something?”
“This whole conversation, I don’t know what you’re trying to do.”
I stood up, “Come here,” she came over to me. “Give me a hug.” She hugged me and laid her head on my chest.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that I don’t know what you are trying to do.”
“Sit down next to me, and I’ll try to explain,” after we sat on the sofa, I put my arm around her. She squirmed around a bit and finally ended up lying with her head in my lap.
“You told me that you were in the mental hospital because you tried to commit suicide. What I want to know is how you felt after you decided to die. Were you happy or sad? And after you failed in your attempt, were you relieved or disappointed?”
“It’s funny you should ask that, when I decided to do it, I felt free. I watched what was going on around me and saw how shallow everything was. People were getting upset over the simplest things that didn’t really matter. I was happy for the first time in my life.” She took hold of my hand. “When they put me in the hospital, my shrink said I was depressed. Of course I was depressed, I had blown the whole thing, and all those people were trying to get me hung up in all this bullshit they think is life.” Her grip tightened on my hand. “I had to leave.”
I caressed her hair with my free hand as I looked down at her. “Now we’re getting to the point of this whole conversation.” I said. “Do you really want to die?”
She looked up at me, “Yes.”
I gazed at her for a moment, holding her hand, I said, “Do you want to die tonight?”
She sat up on the sofa, and turned to me, “What?”
“You heard me, do you want to die tonight?”
“Are you serious?”
I replied, “Yes, if you’ll allow me, I’ll be glad to help you.”
“You’re serious!”
“Yes, of course I’m serious.”
She stared at me for a moment with widened eyes. “I believe you are…What if I said no?”
“No problem, you spend the night here. If you want spend another night here, no problem. When you’re ready to leave, you leave.”
“And if I said yes?”
“No problem, tonight you’ll die.”
“Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t make the offer if I wasn’t sure.”
“But…what would you do with my body?”
“You don’t have to worry about that. You won’t be here to worry about that. I can say for sure that I will not be sending it back to your family.”
“But what are you going to do?”
“People outside this room might think that I am somewhat strange, but you know and I know that I really am trying to help you.” I turned toward her and took her hand again. “Let me explain the ground rules, you told me that you wanted to die, this happens to fit some of my own fantasies. So, I’m giving you the choice and the opportunity to fulfill some of yours. If you do choose to die, it will not be painful, unless that is what you want. We will discuss what you want, and I will try my best to do exactly that. If you choose not to die, then I would like to be your friend. If living is your choice, I think you should then reexamine your aims. It’s possible that you are not really suicidal.” I leaned back and put free hand on the back of the sofa. “If you say yes, you will most likely die on the bed. You can back out any time until you lay down. Once your back touches the bed, your decision will be irrevocable.”
She drew both legs onto the sofa, and turned to me, “You are serious.”
“I am.”
“Why me?”
“For two very good reasons. One, you expressed a desire for this, and two, there is no way anyone can trace you to me.”
“You really want me to decide now?”
“If you’ve been telling me the truth, tonight, you have already made your decision, and only need the courage to admit it.”
“If I say no tonight, can I change my mind later?”
“I think you’re just waffling around, afraid to make a decision. You can’t change your mind after we’re seen together, unless I decide to die, and you agree to join me.”
“How would I die?”
“We can discuss that after you make your decision. There is one other thing that I should mention. After your decision is made, you must do everything I tell you in order for it to succeed.”
She came over, nestled into my armpit, and placed her hand on my chest. My heart was beating as fast as hers. “I guess I made my decision when I came home with you. Yes, let’s do it.”
“Thank you,” I nuzzled her hair with my chin. “The first thing you must do is take off your shoes.”
“My shoes?”
“I said you would have to obey me. Taking off your shoes shows a willingness to do this, it is also symbolic in that you will never need to wear shoes again. Give your feet a last chance to feel the textures they were designed to feel.”
She reached behind her and pulled off her shoes. “How am I going to die?”
“Not so fast, first another decision, all this talking has made me thirsty, do you want something hot or cold?” We got up and walked to the kitchen. “Personally, I want a cup of coffee.” I said as I fiddled with the stove. “Do you want something to eat? I have some cookies in the refrigerator, or steaks in the freezer.”
“No thanks, I’ll just have some coffee. Where do you keep the cups?” She started opening the cupboards.
“Up top, right of the sink.”
After she set the table, we sat down to wait for the coffee to brew. I lit a cigarette. “Tell me about your fantasies.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you ever masturbate?”
“Oh, yeah. Sometimes I pretend that I’ve taken sleeping pills, and will go unconscious when I come. Sometimes, I pretend that I’m tied to a bed, and some man makes love to me and kills me when I come.”
“How does he kill you?”
She lit up a cigarette, “I don’t know, sometimes he chokes me, sometimes he stabs me, and sometimes, he shoots me.”
I said, “Well, I don’t have sleeping pills, but I do have cyanide. I also have rope, knives and guns, but I’m afraid I’ll have to veto the gun, because it’s too noisy.”
She took a sip of her coffee, put down the cup, and took my hand. “Which do you think is best?”
“Let’s go down the list, remember, it’s your decision. Cyanide is very quick, and if you take the right dose, there is very little pain. You go out like a light. A knife can be quick, but there will be some pain. It can also be very messy. Cutting the throat sprays all over the room, but cutting the wrists or a stab to the heard could be done neatly.”
“I’ve tried cutting my wrist, and it hurts like hell.”
“Agreed. Choking is not necessarily painful, but it can get uncomfortable. It takes about a minute before you lose consciousness. However, it is said that it gives a tremendous boost to an orgasm.”
She released my hand, sat back in her chair, and took another sip of coffee. “You are serious about this?”
“Yes.”
“Then please forgive me, but I don’t want to be tied down. I think I would like the cyanide.”
“No problem, but I do have to be with you.”
“OK…What do we do now?”
“That’s up to you. Is there anything else you want to do? We have plenty of time. Do you want a last meal?”
“No,” she smiled, “let’s get started.”
“Fine,” I got up and got her a small pill. “Take this.”
She looked at the pill in her hand. “Is this it?”
“No, it’s just a little morphine I’ve been saving. It’ll help kill any pain, and also make you feel good.”
She took the pill with the last of her coffee. I poured myself another cup, and stood up. She got up with me. I gave her another hug, she hung on tightly.
“Let’s go into the bedroom.” I took her hand, it was trembling slightly. When we got to the bedroom, I gave her a towel and one of my white shirts.
“Please go take a bath or shower, do whatever you need to in there. Remember, however you look when you come out is the best you will ever be. This is an important step for you. While bathing, think of the water rinsing away any bad feelings you have. Rinse out your mind too.”
While she was showering, I mixed the cyanide with a little almond flavor and some sugar. I also made up the bed with silk sheets, and placed a waterproof pad where her hips would be. I placed a pillow lengthwise on the bed.
She came out of the bathroom with the shirt on and the sleeves rolled up. She came to me, hugged me and put her head on my chest. I hugged her back and she looked up at me and smiled.
“How am I doing?”
“Just fine,” I stepped back, got a black silk tie and knotted it loosely around her neck.
“What’s this for?” she asked.
“Remember, I said that once you get on the bed, you can’t change your mind. If you don’t drink the cyanide, you will die by the tie.”
“Well, ” she said, “tie dies are in fashion.” She put her hands on my arm as I tightened the knot. “Don’t worry, I’m positive.” I kissed her on the nose, and she sat down on the bed.
“Just a minute,” I said. I unbuttoned the shirt, and she shrugged out of it.
“What now?” she said.
“Do you want to make love one last time?”
She looked up at me, “I just want to go, but if you think we have to…”
“Only if you want, this is your time.”
“What do I do?”
I handed her a plastic tube I had stuck in the glass. “When you’re ready, drink this. Take at least four big swallows. The more you drink, the faster it is, and the less pain. Now, lay down on your stomach on top of the pillow, and I’ll give you a back rub to relax you.”
She lay down on the pillow, and brought the tube up and looked at it with some fascination. I took up a handful of some massage oil I had heated up in the microwave, and applied it to her back. It was fine, her ribs were showing, but not enough to be emaciated. As I massaged her neck and shoulders, I could feel her relaxing. She wriggled around a bit getting comfortable. I continued the back rub, concentrating on her spinal muscles when she murmured something. I asked her what she had said.
“Thank you for everything.”
“I thank you for the opportunity.”
After I finished with her back, I started on her legs. I picked up each foot, and worked on each toe, and gently rubbed the soles of her feet. I worked up the calves of each leg. Her legs were perfect, with small feet with dainty arches. As I reached her thighs, I felt her give a slight shudder and then lie still. I looked up at her and she had dropped the tube. I noticed that she was not breathing. The glass that held the cyanide was almost empty. I checked her pulse, it was not there.
I straightened up. “Good-bye Lisa. I hope you’re now happy.”
I put the tube and glass away. I then took a spray bottle and dish and rinsed out her mouth to remove any traces of the cyanide. I lifted up the ends of the pillow and turned her over on her back.
Taking off my clothes, I lay down next to her. I took off the tie, and started caressing her body, she was still warm, indeed, she was a little hot. Her breasts were small but firm, and her body completely relaxed. I ran my hands over her smooth belly and then down the soft inside of her thighs. When I spread her legs, I could smell her perfume. Her vagina was wet when I touched her, I smiled at a job done well.
I climbed on top of her, and wrapped her legs around mine. After I entered her, I lifted her head, her mouth opened for me. I sucked her tongue into my mouth as I started moving. As my movements increased, and her body moved with mine, I reached up and touched her open eyes. There was no response. I closed them so that they would last longer. As I came, I clamped my teeth on her neck. She remained completely relaxed.
By keeping the air conditioner at max., I was able to keep her with me for about three days. After that, I had to bury her in the back yard, where she fertilized my fig tree.
* * *

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The Dance of Death

I couldn’t find a tag for this in themes, but this story is primarily made to scratch that vore fetish itch. Just a pretty lady and a snake and… well, you know the ending with these vore things.

Zombie Holocaust 1

This is a long story, one that will be told in different chapters. This is the first, telling of how it all began. Let me know what you think, and please trust me, it will get MUCH better as we go. But I needed to get the area set first, and so we have this first chapter. If you just want sex scroll to the last 3 or 4 paragraphs. Otherwise enjoy the beginning and enjoy the series as we go!
It started about two years ago. There were reports now and then, steadily increasing in regularity for about three months before the story broke officially.
The Undead…… zombies, really? None of us believed it at first. And then when we were forced to face it we didnt want to believe it. In the past year we’ve finally gotten to a safe area in a locked out compound. No undead in, no one out….. no one useful at least. More on that later.
When the Panic first hit we ran blind. I managed to get a backpack loaded with some heavy clothes like sweathshirts, one spare set of jeans, and a few t-shirts. From survival training I knew clean socks, at least once in a while, were a requirement as well as clean boxers now and then. I got enough to carry me for two or three weeks if I changed once every two or three days. That was the rough plan. I had plenty of ammo, but it got real heavy after a few days. Luckily the gun stores had only been looted for weapons and ammo, so I got a few larger military style packs which make it easier to carry heavy equipment over long distances because of how it sits on your back.
Anyway, as time went by I did what I could to survive, but saw some horrible things. Families eaten, the father clutches his little girl, trying to protect her but really condemning her to dying a painful death.
As the days trickled by and the hoards of the undead grew I continued to travel, hiking most of the time, occasionally finding a vehicle that still had gas and was usable.
Fast forward a few months. After looting grocery stores and clothing stores as the need arouse I started thinking about finding a permanent address. I found it in the mid-west, near what used to be the heart of Nebraska. They had turned a set of homes that were at the end of a dead end into a compound.
It took some talking and wrangling, but I was finally allowed into the area. The work they had done was amazing. They had about 20 acres fenced in with heavy duty fencing, boards with metal braced for strength against them. There were covered walk ways around the entire field, set up to check for any breaks in the fence in any weather. They were smart, they knew any form of sickness, no matter how trivial in the Old World, could be a mortal danger in the New World.
The field backed up to a mall, which simply had a fence and road running between the field and the building. They saw the possibilities of the mall, knowing what could be gained by taking it back. We worked for weeks trying to build a safety fence. After two months of intense labor we completed the connection. It was a large mall that serviced a fair sized city which was nearby, only about 20 minutes by car.
It took us three solid days to clear the building of any zombies that might be hiding, but we did that only as a precaution as the mall was occupied.
There were 29 people locked in the mall to maintain their own safety. Little did they know they would have been safer if they had killed us as we came across the road building the fences.
The original compound had been locked down, and the only ones there had been men, at least when I got there. About 20 of those in the mall were females. We descended like hungry wolves.
As we got into the mall the first time we checked every door, took wood from the home supply superstore and blocked the doors completely from the outside. We braced the thick gauge plywood with 4×8’s against the stairs near the doors.
And then the fun began. For us at least.
The women were tough, they had survived the end of the world, so they had to be. Some of them were older, and ass ugly, but still had some uses. A fair amount were younger, and decent looking, a few very hot. And there were 4 girls who were very young, the tenderest the tender had somehow survived this holocaust. Now it was time to see if they could see the horrors that we were about to stick them in.
The women and men came up to us as we entered the building, insanely excited. After a few months any contact with someone from the outside is great. When the women came to give us hugs we copped feels of their asses and tits. They were pissed, but not sure what to do. The husbands were instantly pissed. They came at us swinging. Those of our group that were standing near the back leveled their weapons at the charging men. They froze in fear.
“Nice try dickwads” They were terrified, all of them. We had the power, and we were going to use it goddammit.
“On your knees whores!” the order went out to the general group, but only those with guns in their faces dropped. “Good enough for this time. We took flex cuffs and locked up the entire group, including those on their knees. They were the only ones that we didnt cuff at the ankles as well though. Every one of them screamed when they saw their husbands and children cuffed in front of them. There were only 4 of them on their knees, so they would get used, extremely hard.
We whipped out our cocks and went to down. All 4 of the little whores were soon gagging on our cocks while the others felt their asses and cunts.
“This ones soaking wet! Im gonna rip her little pussy wide open!” yelped Jim, one of my buddies. The women were soon bent forward with out cocks still down their throats. The panties were ripped down the taut, smooth legs that begged to be caressed. The soaking wet cunt holders were soon wrapped around their faces, leaving the mouths open and available. The pussy on the girl I was using was soon being pried open by three fingers and a tongue on her clit. Her screams felt amazing around my cock and I was soon shooting my cum down her throat, making her gag even harder.
WE took turns that day, enjoying the feeling of the tight asses and cunts that were tied up and waiting for us to plug with our hard dicks. There was never an empty hole for more then a few seconds as one guy slid out and another hopped up and slammed it home. I know that I personally came 5 times in various holes. The men were in tears watching their wives, daughters, and friends getting violated repeatedly by our rag-tag band of men. But this was only the beginning as the worst is yet to come. The pain would be unbelievable, and the terror would be like nothing they had ever experienced. It would surpass even the ripping fear that enveloped you when the Undead were ripping into your friends with no mercy, which was the same amount of mercy we’d be showing them as well, but much worse as we could think, plan, and torture instead of just eat them…..
More to come, let me know what you think of the beginning of this tale please!

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A Lustful Teacher

A female teacher at an all girl’s school falls in love with her student and can’t help keeping it quiet anymore.

Bloodlust

Something we started writing to chill out. A friend told us to submit so here we are

evil genius: Janet

Now that Alexis has been tamed, Ian focus turns to Janet. I wrote this with a more romantic angle. Please feel free to leave constructive feedback.