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Demonology
Part one
welcome home present
torturing my little whore for fun
Opening Laurie
Wife’s virgin co-worker gives it up to the husband.
3 Evil Sisters-Part 4_(0)
If you like it, dont like it, just feel like commenting or anything in between, feel free. Feedback is always nice. Plox-n-Thank you 😀
Surviving Armageddon
“I never in my life expected to feel something like that with you. Maybe mom and dad are smarter than we think.”
We Met On Line
This is the story of how a nice daddy gets together with his new son, and how they play the first time at daddy’s house. This is a gay story, so if that is not your thing, please move on to something else, but if two men involved in erotic pleasures turns you on, please stay and read on. Feel to leave an comments you like, positive or negative, I would love to hear what people think of the story. Hope you enjoy.
My little sister
How much can a lonely brother and little sister stand before something happens. You’re about to find out.
Teaching Her A Lesson
The girl next door is not always the young one, sometimes it’s her mother.
A Family Betrayal Chapter 39
It’s been awhile, This chapter Heath becomes older, but a scene comes to his sight that makes him rethink his life
Fun with mommy
True strory
A Day In the Woods Chapt 11, 12 and 13
The continuing story of the pack
“The Bank Robbers”
another story not too sexual author unknown enjoy
Choices
this is real short as most jokes are.
My Wife’s Best Friend Part 2
After a sexy encounter with Melissa, Doug checked to make sure his wife hadn’t woke up before returning to finish the job
Andrea Sweet Andrea
My daughter and I go out on a date.
That’s What Sisters Are For
My sister taught me all about sex.
Son Helps His Mother Cope
Dennis awoke to the rattling of his train compartment. They were currently riding over a rough section of railing which had disturbed his slumber enough to wake him. He reached into his coat pocket and removed his cell phone to check the time. He was careful to tilt the phone so that to prevent the illumination from disturbing his cabin mates. He estimated it was sometime early morning due to the palely lit sky. His presumption was confirmed when he scanned the clock on his phone and read 5:23 a.m. He placed his phone back into the pocket from which it came and rubbed his sleep deprived eyes. The uncomfortable conditions in which the train held made sleep nearly impossible. He sat up slightly, as if to surrender to the battle of sleep, and scanned over his companions in the train compartment.
It was a smaller compartment; it seated four comfortably during the daytime, but became an unbearable fit during sleeping hours. Dennis was fortunate though, as he was able to stretch his legs across the booth styled seat located on his side of the compartment. He figured he was given this privilege due to him being the youngest member of the group.
On the opposite side of Dennis sat two traveling partners that had been forced to share the booth styled seat. One was male and the other was a woman. The male was seated as if he was prepared to eat at the dinner table, but was leaning in a direction which left his right shoulder pressed firmly against the morning-cold train window. On his left side sat the woman, who was also leaning towards her right attempting to utilize the male’s body for comfort. Her left arm had instinctively draped itself around the man, as if she was giving him some sort of half-hearted hug. They both apparently had found comfort as they were fixed in a deep slumber, made obvious by their slow relaxed breaths.
Dennis next shifted his eyes down to the female that was stretched out on the floor of the compartment. She had a blanket on top of her, that had been progressively pushed down her body during her deep sleep, so that now it was only covering her from her feet to her abdomen area. She was lying on her back with her hands pleasantly placed atop one another amongst her stomach. Her eyes were shut and her mouth was held open creating a raspy noise each breath in and out she took.
But these three companions of Dennis were not strangers, at least not complete strangers. The male female combination sleeping opposite of him are his brother and sister. The pleasant woman bunking on the floor would be his dear mother. I say not complete strangers simply because they are related through blood and are aware of each other’s existence. But if you placed those facts aside, you would truly get four travelers that were strangers. The Clark family had grown apart over the past years so much that each member had become unfamiliar with one another. If not for an unfortunate event, they may never have come together again.
The reason that this distantly-grown family was now traveling among the same train compartment now was due to their recently deceased father, Allan Clark. Allan was a lifetime explorer in a ways. He always wanted to do new things and travel all across the world. Having children had slowed him down a bit, but he would even take young Dennis along with him on his adventurous journeys. Dennis was easily the closest to his father among his siblings, and possibly even his mother. He knew everything about his dad and thought of him as a best friend and a great role model in his life. His father’s favorite quote was “you only live once.” He would say this to Dennis whenever he had doubts about anything. But it seemed Allan’s adventurous spirit had finally caught up to him. He had fallen rock climbing in France without using any rope. If there was anything good to say, it was that Allan went out the way he wanted to which was living life to the fullest and being adventurous.
But Allan’s unfortunate demise was taking an emotional toll on the entire Clark family except for Dennis. It seemed that Dennis’s close relationship to his father allowed him to understand that his death should not lead to mourning, but rather a joyous celebration of his incredible life. It was partly this as well as Dennis’s strength, both physical and mental, that kept him from being emotional over his father’s death. Allan was the strongest person Dennis knew in his entire life, and learned his own strength from him.
The train began to slow and eventually came to a stop at the Napoli train station in France. This was Dennis’s father’s hometown and now was to be the location of his burial. Later that day was the funeral ceremony for Allan Clark. Profound words were delivered by various people that had significant connections with Dennis’s father. Dennis delivered the greatest speech of all, leaving the majority of the audience in tears at completion. He hadn’t written anything down or prepared a speech. He just went up and talked about how his dad was the greatest man he knew and would ever know. Dennis, of course did not shed one tear throughout the entire ceremony, but could not say the same about his other family members. His mother, obviously, was having a difficult time holding herself together emotionally. She was clearly distraught from the loss of her life companion. Overall it was a beautiful funeral that celebrated the amazing life of an amazing individual.
Once the funeral and burial ceremony were complete, the family headed back to their house in Napoli. Allan Clark was a not just an adventurous individual but also a wealthy one. He was the CEO for a high quality outdoor equipment company in Europe. He owned property all over Europe and one of them was located in his hometown of Napoli. It had been ages since the entire family had been in this house. They only stayed in it for family reunions in Napoli.
The family was very somber through the rest of the day. They mostly stayed in their separate rooms and cried over the loss of their father and husband. It was becoming late, and the entire family had washed up and went to bed except for Dennis. He decided to retire about an hour later as he was exhausted from the lack of sleep on the train. He entered one of the two bathrooms amongst the house. This was the shared one with his siblings as the other was located in his parents’ room. He stripped down, showered, and dried himself off.
As he completed drying off, he took a moment to analyze himself in the mirror. Dennis was roughly 6’3 and weighed a solid 205. His pecks and abs were very defined as well as his biceps as he began to flex. His chest was somewhat hairy, but not overgrown at all. He had a great golden brown color to his hair which he slicked back in a business style. Because that was what he was. He had taken over the equipment company that his dad had and was a well thought of business man for only being 24 years old. His beard was neatly trimmed and kept at a very reasonable thickness. He turned around to check his ass as he always did. He loved to squat and knew it made his ass look irresistible to women. But most of all he focused on the area his father gave him. He played around with his cock and balls as he watched them in the mirror. He was blessed to have such a nice and large cock. He knew it was from his father as he had seen it many times before and was amazed at its size. He never trimmed his pubic hair as his father had never either. He thought of his great pubic collection as being just as impressive as his penis. Dennis simply looked up towards the ceiling and thanked his father for everything that he had done and given to him. Just as Dennis was about the brush his teeth, he heard a loud cry and then more loud sobbing. He quickly slid on a pair of shorts, with no briefs, and headed out of the bathroom.
He could tell it was coming from his mother’s room and he walked toward the door. He swung the door open and slowly stepped into the room.
“Mom? Are you alright?” Dennis blindly asked as he could not see much in the dark room.
He did not receive an answer but continued to hear his mother cry. He proceeded to her bed and sat on the edge of it.
“Mom? You okay?” Dennis asked once again.
“Come here sweetie.” His mother sobbed towards Dennis.
Dennis laid down next to his mother so that she could wrap her arms around him as comfort. She was crying hysterically and Dennis was unsure of what to do. So he just remained in this position. Mother and son hugging each other in mourning. Dennis didn’t say anything as he couldn’t think of the right thing to say. He hoped he was helping her by allowing her to hug him.
Dennis’s mother is named Kimberly. She is 48 years old and about 5’10. She has brown hair and is very tan as she hits the tanning salon often. She was a typical wife of a rich husband. She did not work but received all of the benefits of being rich. She had had plastic surgery many times, on her face, ass, stomach, and breasts. She did not appear to be 48 at all but rather about 30.
After a while, Kim fell asleep in this position and Dennis was stuck. He had not intended on staying here the whole night and frankly was uncomfortable sleeping like this. Once he was sure his mother was asleep, he began his escape. He gently raised his mother’s arm up off of him and placed it at her side. As he attempted to slide out of her grasp, he startled her. She was still asleep but dreamily wrapped her arm back around Dennis and pulled him tight to her. Dennis only had on a pair of shorts and his mother only wore a skimpy black night gown. He could feel her enormous breasts pressed against his chest. He could tell she was not wearing a bra, as her nipples were pointed against the thin fabric and were sticking into his pecks.
“Oh Allan. Yes. Hold me tight.” Kim mumbled in her sleep.
Dennis was now seriously concerned. His mother was dreaming that he was his father. He knew this wasn’t going to be good, so he furiously struggled to escape her grasp. She cried out a little and pulled him tighter and threw her leg over his body to really hold on to him. His mother was so close to him that he could feel the warmness that her pussy was emitting on his cock. Within seconds, Dennis had a hard on that was poking out of the band of his shorts. His mother felt this and instinctively reached down and grabbed Dennis’s cock in her hand.
“Ooo. Are you getting hard for me?” Dennis’s mom continued to say in her sleep.
Dennis didn’t know what was coming over him. He wasn’t fighting to escape anymore. Rather he was now enjoying this sensation. He knew he enjoyed it sexually, but played it off in his mind by saying that he was helping his mother cope with her loss by doing this. Soon enough Dennis was grabbing his mother’s ass and reaching his hand into her panties. All the while Kim was stroking her son’s cock and moaning in her sleep.
This fondling continued on for a few more minutes until Kim leaned her face in towards Dennis’s. She expertly guided her mouth to his without opening her eyes and placed her soft, luscious lips upon her sons. Dennis was startled by this development, as if this was worse than the groping. Passionately kissing his mother made it seem more serious to him, yet he did not make an attempt to stop. Rather he accepted her moist lips and even reciprocating the passion. This frivolous kissing went on for only seconds before Kim wanted more as she opened her mouth and aggressively thrust her tongue into Dennis’s mouth. Once again, Dennis was alarmed by this progression and did not immediately respond. After he regained his thinking, he began to join his mom in the passionate tongue wrestling. Dennis may have been partaking but in no way was he the aggressor. His mother was feverishly throwing her mouth about his and wrapping her tongue around his tongue.
During this mother son make out session, Dennis had become fully erect and was leaking an abundance of precum. As he simultaneously grabbed his mother’s ass and kissed her, he began to feel his load build within his balls. His mom reached back down and continued to stroke him as they both kissed. The resurgence of his mother stroking him created a serious problem for Dennis. He was going to cum, but didn’t want to. As soon as this thought entered his head, he began to realize what he was doing. Not only committing a terrible sin, but he was fooling around with his father’s woman. The man he idealized his entire life, and now he was completely disrespecting him just days after his death.
Dennis tried his best to contain his orgasm, but knew it was too late for that. He put forth a valiant effort, as it was not a typical orgasm for a male. The fact that he was attempting to not jizz, made his orgasm very anti-climactic. He retained a lot of sperm from holding back, but still quite a bit came oozing out and leaked down his shaft and onto his mother’s hand. He knew she was aware of the situation as her stroking had stopped completely and was now just grasping his cock.
“Oh, a little warm-up orgasm, huh?” Kim drearily giggled.
This statement planted fear into Dennis’s head. What does she mean warm-up? He constantly asked himself. He feared what he was warming up for. He didn’t want this to go any further, but it seemed it was too late.
Dennis’s cock never even changed shape after his orgasm. He stayed hard as a rock, and considering the taboo situation, it was no surprise to him. All of the sudden, his mom rolled out of bed and stood next to it. Dennis was uncertain of what was going on. Was his mother awake, or was this still part of her dream. She reached down and grabbed the bottom of her night gown and lifted it over her head. As she pulled it off, Dennis’s suspicion about his mom wearing no bra was confirmed. Her magnificent tits were now fully exposed in the minimal moonlight that was entering through a small window located high on the wall. Next she bent down and slid her black panties down her legs to her ankles. She stepped out of them and faced Dennis. He could now see her glorious pussy in the light now. He was surprised to find an enormous amount of pubic hair covering her vaginal lips. Her over the top bush turned him on even more. He didn’t think his cock could grow any further, but from the sight of his beautiful naked mother, it did.
She playfully jumped back on the bed and crawled over on top of Dennis. She slid his shorts all the way off of him and straddled his lower calves. She bent over, grabbed his cock, and placed it perfectly in her mouth. There was no hesitation on her part as she began furiously sucking his dick. With her other hand she began to play with his hairy balls. This went on for a few more minutes.
“Are you ready Allan?” Kim asked Dennis.
Dennis once again did not respond, but it didn’t matter as Kim was already beginning to get in position. She moved her ass further up Dennis’s body until her pussy was positioned right above Dennis’s erect cock. She reached down with one hand and straightened his penis so that it would align with her pussy. Again with no hesitation, she slid herself down on his dick until it was completely inside of her. At this point Dennis’s cock could not be seen. He looked down at the situation and only saw two large bushes of pubic hair interacting with each other. His mother continued to ride his dick and in minutes Dennis was ready to explode again, but this time inside of his mom. He wasn’t gonna hold back on this one. He grabbed his mother’s ass cheeks with his hands and squeezed them firmly. He was now aggressively slamming his dick into his mother’s pussy. She began to moan in pleasure and just as Dennis was ready to orgasm, he felt a strange sensation upon his cock.
It seemed that it was getting more difficult to thrust his cock into his mother. He then realized that she was also having an orgasm and her pussy was tightening on his dick. This created many dirty thoughts into his head that pushed him over his limit. He began to furiously cum inside his mother. His orgasm involuntarily made his hips thrust in and out of his mom’s pussy with more force and speed. He could feel every blast of cum release from his dick and knew his mom could to as her moans matched the streams of cum.
After the two’s orgasms, Kim collapsed on top of her naked son and began to snore again. Dennis knew she was really asleep now and figured he should leave. But this was a once in a lifetime opportunity that he wasn’t gonna lose. He flipped his mother over so that she was lying naked on her back. He wanted the get an up close look at her amazing pussy.
He was now kneeled in between her outspread legs investigating his mother’s vagina. He ran his fingers through her luscious bush. Something about how much pubic hair she had turned him on. He guessed it was because no girls anymore have bushes. Next he turned his focus to her large breasts. He wanted to do one last thing and then he would leave. He straddled her abdomen and placed his large cock in between his mom’s enormous tits. Dennis squished them together to create a makeshift pussy that he could fuck. He thrust his cock between her tits until he was ready to orgasm again. This time he simply closed his eyes and allowed the cum to go wherever it wanted to. After a few seconds of blasting his load, he reopened his eyes to see what had happened. His beautiful mother was lying there asleep with huge streaks of cum across her face and into her hair. There were also globs of semen resting on her ample breasts. Dennis was satisfied with this and exited the room after retrieving his shorts.
He knew he had done a terrible thing, but he felt the pleasure and one time experience outweighed the negative aspects. He truly didn’t mind to be a motherfucker, in fact, it now made him horny whenever he thought about it.
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A TS Friend: Part 1
A guys meets a shemale in a bar after hooking up online. The meeting gets fun after few drinks and dance..
The New Guy in Town
As I should’ve guessed by now, having lived most of my life in Arizona, the monsoon wasn’t as close as I’d thought. I’d sped home to get under cover before the rain started, only to be greeted by wind and thunder and lightning. It all looked ominous, and it smelled like rain, but I could’ve stood outdoors with my face up, staring at the clouds, and stayed that way for a long time without ever getting wet. I sighed and went inside. My landlords’ three cats, already terrified by the ominous rumblings outside, suddenly remembered it was dinnertime, and set up an unearthly howling, the weather temporarily forgotten.
I gave them twice as much wet food as they were supposed to have in the evening, figuring that if the little furballs went into a digestive coma afterward and missed the storm, it would be better for all of us.
I’d been housesitting for three weeks while my landlords escaped the heat in San Diego. This was a great arrangement; in exchange for eliminating the rent on the guest house I leased from them in back, I could stay in the house, if I chose, and my only duties were to entertain and look after the cats, collect the paper and mail, and just keep an eyeball on the place. I could live with this plan for the rest of my life, or at least the rest of the summer.
I went into the guest bedroom where I sometimes spent the night and changed out of my work clothes, stripping entirely before slipping into a pair of shorts and a tank top. If there had been other people around, I would’ve kept on my underwear, but it was hot and muggy, and I didn’t need to have anything binding around me. I would’ve considered wandering around the house naked, except I wanted to keep the window shades open and watch the storm let loose, if it ever did.
The cats had already demolished their food and disappeared for the evening as I came back into the living room. I sifted through the mail and found a mistaken delivery, to the new guy across the street. I thought that I could drop it in his mailbox tomorrow morning, but as I looked out the front window, I saw that he was in his front yard, dutifully raking up leaves and debris even as the oncoming storm tried to thwart his efforts. I paused and stared at him a few minutes.
Damn, he was cute! I’d already discussed this with my landlords, a gay couple, and we three were in total agreement. His name was Theo, and he was a professor in the fine arts department of the university. He was Greek, either by birth or by heritage, and he was one of those dark fellows, not very tall but well made, with curly black hair, and a beard and mustache. The few times I’d approached him to give him another piece of errant mail or to exchange phone numbers, in case of an emergency, he seemed nearly as shy as I. He spoke with a trace of an accent, and perhaps this made him reluctant to say much of anything to a stranger, but he smiled easily, I think, when I wasn’t too bashful to look away.
How stupidly bashful could I be as I felt myself tingle in several places as I looked at him, though? He was wearing the traditional summer uniform of the neighborhood, t-shirt, shorts and sandals (a departure from the more popular rubber flip-flops), leaving me with a pleasant view of his legs and bare arms. I wondered if he had a girl friend (my landlords wondered he had a boy friend); so far we’d only seen Theo and Theo alone, and one of my landlords had smiled at me before they’d left for the coast and mentioned something about hope springing eternal as he cocked his head in the direction of the house across the street.
“Fuck you,” I told him sweetly, waving good-bye to them both. Who was anyone kidding? I’m nobody’s cover girl. I enjoy food and loathe exercise. It’s boring as hell. Even if I was at my ideal weight, I doubt that it would be in keeping with the good old American standard of anorexic girls being the ones all the guys are looking for. All the women in my family have breasts and hips and butts, and none of that would go away if I dieted into oblivion. (The one time I did lose weight, the only man in my circle of friends and acquaintances who showed any interest in the new, svelte me was a guy with an established reputation of screwing anything female. There was talk that he’d go after boys, too, and I believed it. He did have a prick the size of my vibrator, and he could stay as hard as it for an incredibly long time; on the other hand, he had about as much personality as a vibrator, and the best thing about fucking with him was that I didn’t have to keep one hand on him to make sure that he stayed in place.)
Depressing memories and realities aside, I thought that I might as well be the good neighbor and give Theo his letter and warn him about the storm. I slipped on my sandals and grabbed my keys, turning on the porch light and a side light in the living room for good measure before locking the door.
“If you stay out here much longer, you’re going to get hit by lightning,” I said by way of hello. “Where in the world did you find garden tools with metal handles?”
“The last owner left them in the storage shed,” Theo said, looking at the rake in his hand. “You don’t think this is a good idea?”
“I think that there’s a reason for Home Depot selling wood-handled rakes and stuff. It’s about to let loose anyway,” I added, looking up at the sky. With the clouds, gray and grayer and nearly black, swirling above us, a deluge seemed imminent.
“All right.” Theo moved the wheelbarrow to the side of the house, in front of a gate that he said was padlocked from the other side. He tried to gather up the loose tools to carry them into the house and into the shed in the back, only he had more than an armload, and I volunteered to help. We exchanged a rake and a hula hoe for the letter I’d intended to give him, and I followed him through the front door. “I’m trying to be a good neighbor and look after my yard.”
I smiled at his back, slowing as he put on a few lights; the stormy pre-dusk had undermined any natural lighting afforded by open windows. “Everyone thinks that you’re doing a good job,” I assured him. He was happy hearing that and in the spirit of neighborliness, offered to give me a tour of his house. My smile was a little more self-conscious then. “I’ve already seen it. Whenever a house goes up for sale in the neighborhood, everyone makes it a point to investigate it.
“But, I like all of your bookcases,” I rushed to add. The living room was sparsely furnished, as was the rest of the house, but the longest stretch of wall in it was filled with tall bookcases, probably custom-built, most of them filled with hundreds of books.
“You like books? Me, too. This is the first house I’ve ever owned, and I swear that it will be the last. I don’t mind traveling, but I hated to pack up and move every few years. You see that I don’t have much furniture, so that wasn’t a hardship, but I got tired of seeing my books disappear into box after box. You can come over some time and look through my books, if you like.”
I murmured in agreement and we went through the house, out into the back yard. As Theo put away the tools in the small shed, I surveyed the yard. It was long and narrow, like the entire lot, and while the previous owners hadn’t spent nearly as much time working on it as they had the front, at least they’d put in some trees and allowed them to become established. Theo closed the shed and noticed me observing the back forty. He sighed.
“I don’t know what is to become of all this space,” he announced. “Here,” he indicated the small patio that we were standing upon and which ran the width of the back of the house, “I am having a spa put in, and making a grape arbor over half of it, but the rest –” He trailed off, as though those projects would do very little to improve the yard overall.
“Oh, I think this is nice. There are a lot of trees.”
He nodded. “Yes, good ones, too.” He led me out into the yard and we stopped by each. Like in the garden that I hoped to have one day, all of the trees were fruit-producing, and the previous owners had found some that I would’ve doubted to have much success in the desert (what one can do with drip irrigation and grey water!). There was an apple and an apricot, two lemon trees, a tangerine, and a lime tree. “I wish I could have an olive, right by the patio, but somebody told me I cannot.”
I explained to Theo that the city council had banned fruit-bearing varieties of olives, but he might plant a sterile one. He shook his head. “I know they are messy, but why have an olive tree with no olives?”
I nodded. “I know what you mean. But there are still a lot of old trees in town, and just about anyone who has them will let you pick as many as you want. I’ve done that before, and cured them.” Not in a few years, admittedly, but when I had, they’d turned out as good as any in an expensive deli.
“You have!” Theo’s face lit up, a bright spot in the gloom. “My mother made olives, and my aunts in Greece still do. I’ve helped, a long time ago, too. Perhaps we can go olive-picking this autumn.” I was ready to agree to anything, seeing that lovely smile. I commented that he might consider a pomegranate tree near the patio for shade and some privacy around the spa. He liked that idea, and just as a very loud and sustained roll of thunder washed over us and we looked at each other, both of us thinking that it was high time to leave the back yard, I noticed something odd over his shoulder.
“What’s that?” I asked, already having a good idea. I walked around him and went up to a stone sculpture, a little taller than I. It was standing near the back corner of the yard. It appeared to be a column, carved smooth on four sides, so that, except for the point at the top, it might be a very short obelisk.
On its top was the head of a satyr, bearded and crowned with grape leaves. Tendrils curled around its stone horns. The sightless face was calm and serene, very nearly unsatyrlike, only that the sculptor had given the tiniest curl to one side of the mouth, so this fellow was not quite as tranquil as he first let on.
“This is another reason for me staying in one place,” Theo chuckled, “my little herm. The nuisance weighs a lot, more than I, and I think he gets heavier with each move. I think he wants to settle down.”
“I think he’d be happy here, with all the trees.” I tried not to look down the front surface of the column.
“When things are more put together, I am going to move him to the patio, so he can enjoy it as well as I. He’s not going to be relegated to this lonely little place for much longer.” Theo patted the stone satyr on the shoulder.
“He’s – it’s very nice. I’d guess that he isn’t an original.”
“Oh, ho, not at all! He’d be in the Louvre or the British Museum if he were, or maybe even the Getty. No, I bought him in Greece years ago. He’s copied after some classic herms, but he isn’t quite in keeping with those. He’s made more for the tourist trade now.” Theo reluctantly pointed to the place I’d tried to avoid looking. “Today’s people are more prurient than the old Hellenes.”
Well, since he’d pointed, I might as well look. Most pictures that I’d seen of herm, or ones that were part of museum collections, had some indication of genitalia carved in the otherwise unadorned column. What I remember seeing were bas-relief depictions, or merely outlines, of an erect penis with a very symmetrical set of testicles balanced beneath.
No such false modesty for Theo’s herm. This statue’s genitals were three-dimensional, standing away from the column boldly in a thatch of carved pubic hair, and accurate in every detail. The fellow was uncircumsized and erect, pointing wickedly to the sky, yet the head of his penis was still somewhat encased in his stony foreskin. One could almost imagine that if a little patience were practiced, the glans of that erection would peek completely through, smooth and round and very, very hard.
A shattering clap of thunder had me imagining that in the next few seconds, either Theo or I would be struck by lightning. We weren’t that unlucky, but the thunder seemed to have opened the clouds at last, and we found ourselves in the middle of a downpour. “Back to the house!” Theo cried out to me, taking my hand and pulling me to him, in that direction. I didn’t think he needed to be that dramatic or that blunt, because I had no intention of standing out here any longer.
By the time we reached the patio, we might as well have run a mile in the rain. We were both drenched, and I followed Theo’s example and kicked off my sandals on the stoop before going into the utility room. Theo was laughing at our appearances (“wet desert rats!”) and he pulled two towels from the drier, handing me one as I tried not to drip too much on the floor.
I took the towel Theo had given me and made a few sweeps of my hair, giving it more attention than I wanted (it was only wet hair, after all) when I caught him watching me. The movement of my arms had called my unbound breasts into play, and my chilled nipples might’ve raked the thin cotton of my tank top had the wet cloth not clung to them possessively. Because of this, my newly-hardened nipples were mercilessly outlined, only decent due to the fabric that was rain-plastered over them. With an inward sigh, I put the towel over my shoulders, like a shawl, affording a curtain to this delicious little peep show.
“You said you like books. Let me show you something,” Theo suggested in a brittle voice, obviously wanting to change topics, spoken or observed. I followed him into the master bedroom. It was larger than most, the space at the foot of the bed capable of holding a pair of chairs clustered around a low table. There were a number of coffee table-style books on it, and Theo handed me the top one. “Here is my most recent work. Photos and text are both mine.” His eyes darted in the direction of the master bathroom. “If you want to look at it, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I smiled and took the book. As he disappeared, I settled myself on the poured-concrete footboard of the platform bed; it seemed more comfortable that either of the chairs in the room. I pulled the towel from my shoulders. It was already clammy, and I had enough of that from my top and shorts. I began to skim the pages of the books, bright, bold colors of Greek villages and the Aegean sea. I couldn’t stop thinking of the herm outside, or its shameless erection, being lashed by an Arizona monsoon, and I thumbed through the book, wondering if there might be any photos of Greek sculpture.
I glanced up as a heard a peculiar noise come from the bathroom. I couldn’t recall if Theo had closed a door, but the bath itself was recessed, and one had to go through the equivalent of a walk-in closet to reach it. As a result, privacy was assured even without a door.
Nevertheless, I nearly dropped the heavy book as I saw him reflected in a full-length mirror against one wall of the closet. Theo had pulled off his shirt. I don’t know where it had gone. His shorts were pooled at his ankles. He was leaning against the bathroom counter, his face screwed up in an inscrutable expression as both hands hovered over his groin.
He had grasped his fully erect penis, and although it was obscured with his actions, it could only be described as generous. The head was crimson and obviously bloated, ready and eager to bore into any willing female (or male, if my landlords had anything to say in the matter). I slid the book down to the floor, propping it against the footboard, never taking my eyes from this graphic demonstration. Without diverting my eyes, I pulled my top up to my armpits, releasing my breasts.
I attacked my nipples then, grasping each one between prodding fingers, the aureoles round and pebbly as the firm nipples swelled even more at the vigorous attention. We each pleasured ourselves for a little bit, my tits trembling and shaking as the crotch of my shorts was caught up high between my legs, growing wet with my juices. At other times, were I to stand up suddenly, I’d be embarrassed to have to recover the fabric from between my ass cheeks, but there wasn’t a thought of shame in me right now.
I gasped as I suddenly realized that Theo wasn’t masturbating, but trying to ease the blood from his erection. He was taking deep, open-mouthed breaths, attempting to calm himself, and with distress I began to see his penis pale, softening a little in his grip. My groin lurched at the spectacle, and I could feel the lips of my vulva alternately open and purse, begging to accept this rod if it were only offered. Even if he didn’t have fucking in mind, why on earth didn’t he relieve the tension in his groin the good old-fashioned way? There were towels within arms’ reach, and he’d no doubt feel better if he were only to allow nature to take its course.
My mind raced. I wasn’t being entirely altruistic, thinking only that Theo ought to be treating himself more gently. With each soundless gasp that escaped through his lips, I could swear I saw Theo’s erection flag a little more, the purple hue of animal passion drain into the ashen color of civility. I squeezed my breasts to my chest and suppressed a deep sigh, even a throat-seizing groan. Maybe I shouldn’t have — maybe I should’ve called to Theo in this uncontrolled way, calling him to me like a stallion to a mare, a dog to a bitch in heat. After all, it was no mistake that I (yes, me!) must have caused this wonderful, sexual response. My hips were jutting forward, and I took a deep breath.
“Theo, can you come here a minute?” I said in a raised voice. I could see him pause, distracted by me, and this brief respite allowed his unruly penis to try and recover its former glory. Oh, God, I saw it jerk hard in his hand! I felt a phantom prick, and big as the one he was trying to suppress, working its way into my cunt as a matching pulsation twinged between my legs.
“A moment,” he replied, working again, now with more fervor on controlling his desire.
“No, now, please.” Each word was a sentence, a calm but irrefutable command, and I was pleased that I’d had the good sense to make my request in a sane manner. I watched as he pulled his shorts up his legs clumsily, and I grinned as I noticed, him walking back to the bedroom door, that he’d only drawn the garment over his front; his firm, perfectly-formed ass refused to be bound unless he made a stronger effort to conceal it. I leaned back on the footboard, and when he ducked his head around the door to see what I considered so important, his face froze in surprise.
My breasts were still exposed; I’d left them on their own to argue our case as I’d pulled the crotch of my shorts to one side with my left hand. With my right, I teased open the folds of pink skin and gave a tiny cry of pleasure as I located, then gently pinched my swollen clitoris. It was as excited as his penis, only I wasn’t doing anything so foolish as trying to stop the ecstasy I was feeling. Knowing that I had his undivided attention, I toyed with my clit for a few moments before I eased my index finger between the moist lips of my vulva, into my vagina. I trembled, partly for show, mostly for the fierce sensation I’d given myself. The walls of my pussy sucked at my finger greedily, and my pelvis rocked my buttocks on the hard seat.
I’d fixed my eyes upon him the moment his head had appeared around the doorway, but as I masturbated, my eyes focused and unfocused dreamily upon his face. Perhaps that made the fact that I’d never displayed myself so explicitly for anyone as I was doing now easier for my rational mind to accept.
“I’m sure there’s something that would feel even better than this.” It took a lot of effort for me to say this without slurring my speech or moaning like a banshee. I pulled out my finger, and a wet, soaked sound of lust accompanied it.
“We hardly know each other.” That was certainly true. If I intended this to be our first sexual encounter, what had been our first date, or our courtship? Looking at the erection on that herm?
Theo didn’t leave his hiding place, but I could see in the mirror that his ass quivering as he pulled himself against the door-jamb. No doubt he was pressing his cock against it, a final attempt to conquer the unconquerable. Was it as hard as I’d first seen it? Oh, please, I silently begged any higher power that smiles upon these salacious matters, let it be so!
I swallowed hard and forced some saliva into my dry mouth, so when I spoke, it wouldn’t sound like a rusty latch. “We know each other well enough to know what we need.” Yes, there was want there, but there was also a need, possibly greater than we could imagine or dared to admit. I stood up, a little wobbly; my toes burrowed into the carpet, steadying me, and I waited a few moments before slipping my shorts down my legs, stepping out of them defiantly. I heard him start to make another excuse, and I silenced it with a groan, as my hands went to my chest, massaging my breasts and sliding under the soft skin of them.
“Please, Theo,” I said in a weirdly detached way. No, I wasn’t detached from the request; I was only begging politely.
I let him watch as I pulled at my nipples with my extended fingertips until they were as hard as I ever remember them being. I stood still then and offered the rose-tipped flesh to him. “Your herm is ready for me,” I said quietly; if he didn’t like what he saw, a chunky but extremely horny woman standing in his own bedroom, I doubt that the herm would give a damn. There was naked commitment in my voice, “If I have to, I’ll go out there and take care of myself.”
I was dead-serious, and Theo knew it. I think that we could both imagine me walking bare-skinned across the yard, defying the rain and the thunder, my feet and legs spattered with mud, my hair plastered in strings to my back and shoulders. I squirmed as I imagined myself embrace the column, my feet unsure in the slurry of gravel, sand and mud, but then straddling the constant erection, wet with rain, and a moment later, wetter with my lascivious urges. I groaned as a clap of thunder rolled over the house.
Please, Theo, I prayed, I want it this way.
I held onto my breasts as Theo surrendered, coming out of the bathroom/closet, still maintaining a partial modesty. I think his prick was the only thing keeping his shorts at his waist. He faced me, dark eyes drinking me in, and in spite of his protests or attempts for reason, I could smell not only his fresh sweat, but the underlying aroma sex that emanated from him. No man smells like that who doesn’t want to act upon such desires. I felt his hands touch the tops of my breasts, and I released them to his warm, willing hands. “What tetas!” he murmured, obviously pleased. He leaned down to kiss each one hello, rolling the nipples around in his wet mouth like hard, sweet candies. “Such tetas! So lovely!”
I murmured a thanks and pulled at the waistband of his shorts. Without a struggle, they came away and dropped to the ground, while his erection defied gravity and prudence. It was as bold as when he’d first tried to restrain it, and it hovered expectantly in front of me, as if knowing exactly where to go. This close, I was immediately intimidated by the size of it. All those unromantic and accurate terms for it raced through my mind: boner, club, schlong. Even if I disregarded such vulgarities, I was facing no less than a big, fat cock.
Theo looked up from my breasts and chuckled. “Now a little frightened?” he asked. He might’ve been teasing me, questioning my motives, but his thumbs massaged my nipples, very wet with his saliva, and I doubt that he wanted me to change my mind now.
“Maybe, a little. It’s been a while, that’s all,” I replied as bravely as I could, but yes, I was frightened, too. It was beautiful and terrifying, all at once.
“Yes, for me, too. That’s why he’s so lusty.” Theo put his mouth against my ear. “But he’s always this big.” He finished this statement with a warm chuckle.
“It doesn’t mean that I don’t want – you,” I whimpered and put out my hands, taking the erection in them both and placing it between my thighs. I didn’t angle it up to penetrate me, not yet, but merely settled it along the length of my groin, so Theo would realize in very little time how hot and wet he was making me (and had already made me). Now, having straddled my own living herm, I embraced him, my arms around his shoulders, my hands twining in his dark, curly hair. My breasts crushed to his chest, and he released them to slide his palms over my broad hips.
Each large hand grappled with a buttock, eventually pushing them in rhythm so that his hips ground against mine. “What lovely round cheeks you have. Nice juicy handfuls!” He kneaded them like dough, as his penis jerked and bucked against me, eager to find its deep, dark refuge. It very nearly hurt as it stabbed up at me, and I wondered if Theo were in pain, the blunt, eager head trying over and over to find a sanctuary.
The two of us bravely kept it at bay, focusing on each others’ panting mouths with their probing tongues and parted lips, or on my nipples, nestled in the mat of dark hair on his chest, or my buttocks, massaged with growing desire. Here was our missing courtship, a little unorthodox by our quick undressing but passionate and loving, nevertheless. Oh, he had a nice ass, too, maybe a little too round for some womens’ tastes, but dished in nicely upon the sides, unbelievably sexy under my touch. My fingers trembled as I explored him. His skin was hot to the touch.
I cried out as a bold knuckle, which had been pressing delightfully against the bud of my anus, withdrew to allow a fully-extended finger to waggle its way up my rectum. The cheeks of my buttocks closed hard around the intruder’s hand, but not before I had realized how quickly (and effortlessly) he had entered me. “Ah, do you like me knocking at your back door, to play there, or not?” Theo asked; the rapid, easy penetration had suggested one thing, but my tightened bottom another.
“I’ve got to get used to it.” He wiggled the coy offender in place. It felt awfully good. I smiled at him and rotated my ass in reply. “That’s a nice start.”
“Then I’ll do it more,” he promised. He might’ve, had I not been nearly knocked from my feet by a massive pulsation of his penis. I shuddered at the sensation, crying out in surprise, and he let go of my rump. His finger dallied its way out of my butt, tickling me between my cheeks. “I think it best if we relax on the bed.” I nodded and stepped back, the turgid head of his erection dragging itself wetly over my vulva and clitoris. I shivered and moved quickly to the bed, tossing back the covers and sliding onto it on my belly, reveling in the coolness of the linen sheets. Theo was a bit more reserved, as there was no way to lie on his stomach without great forethought.
I rolled onto my back and brazenly splayed open my legs. “Are you always this accommodating?” he chortled.
“Oh, God, never before,” I confessed to him with complete honesty. That was true, and I hoped that he believed me, but it was also true that I was seduced by his maleness, wanting and needing it beyond all reason. “You are just so – ” I fought for the right word, and didn’t find it, ” – nice. Sexy. Handsome. Horny – I mean, you make me horny.” I groaned and massaged my breasts, not caring how I looked or what he thought; I had been transported to ultimate desire. I’d nearly been there before, watching him clandestinely from across the street, then masturbating in my bed, imagining how he might feel and how he might fill me if he were to lie between my legs.
“I am so hot, I can’t stand it,” I breathed. My hips rolled up, the lips of my groin winking open for him.
Maybe I should’ve calmed myself down then and given some thought to just kissing and cuddling together on the wide bed, or, allowing him to suck on my nipples more, but all of my body was concentrating on my genitals, and they nearly cried for satisfaction. “I need you, Theo.”
He nodded and held his ground. How he could just stand there, nude, erect, oozing a thick, big bead of precum –
“You can make love to me,” I said, “but if you just want to call it fucking, that’s all right, too.” No commitments, just sex. If that was all that happened, I’d be unhappy about it, but it had happened to me before and I’d survived. This time felt the best of my previous sexual encounters, and I feared most it coming to nothing. Even now I had astounding memories to treasure.
“It is all the same,” he said with a sultry smile, approaching the bed, “fucking, rutting, making love. I will do all that to you. Would you like that, little one?”
I only groaned a positive reply, the erect penis hovering over me. My hips levered up, hungry and needy, and I kept them suspended as the slick head of his hard erection finally kissed my pussy lips in welcome. His strong hands supported my buttocks in a warm hammock. Then flesh made way for flesh, softness for hardness, and when I came to rest upon the mattress, I was pinned there with a delightful, demanding pressure upon me and within me. I cried out my first orgasm then, with just the head of his cock within me, opening the passage in a tender but relentless manner, pushing the lips apart. Theo hardly minded my wailing, and stared lovingly at me until it and my climax passed, his cock-head tenuously anchored within me. Then there was a long, slow introduction to his organ, my vagina stretching and clasping around it. It was a tight fit, but he went with the utmost ease, until the root of his penis pressed hard to my throbbing clitoris, and I knew that it wasn’t going to be my last climax.
His first orgasm was swift. Barely four complete strokes passed before he muttered something I couldn’t understand, then a stiffening of his whole body, as though his cock had taken control of him. A hot fullness followed with a coarse groan from deep in his chest.
Theo cradled me in his arms, his head and chest slightly raised over mine. The barest tip of his tongue played over my lips, and when they parted, it slipped in to touch the hard and soft interface between my upper lip and my teeth. Such a small, nearly innocent gesture, yet I was already beginning to undulate against him, desiring him again. “Ah, little one, what a lively creature you are,” he laughed low, retrieving his tongue and pushing his lips to mine.
“I’m hardly little,” I replied. There wasn’t much difference in height, and his solid, just-over-slim build made me uncomfortable with my proportions.
“Well, I want a term of endearment for you, and I thought that one was not too familiar.” I laughed aloud at that; we had just endured bone-shattering orgasms in each other’s arms, we were sweating like plow horses, my pussy was oozing the thick cream of his semen, and his penis looked as though it had been iced like a cinnamon bun. If that wasn’t familiar, Theo had a different dictionary than the one I used. I think he caught the irony, and he cocked his head. “Shall I call you dear one?”
“That’s nice,” I smiled, settling back on the pillows. “I like little one, though. It sounds fine, coming from you.”
“I shall call you all manner of sweet things, and show them to you, too.” His smile was big and very white against his beard and mustache. He kissed me again, impulsively, and trying to maintain this cavalier aura, he jostled me in his arms. There was an additional thrust of his groin against my hip. “Tell me, little one, if I had not come to my senses, would you have gone outside to be satisfied by the herm?”
The worst part of the storm had passed, but there was a steady rain pattering on the window above us. His eyes studied me closely, and I could be nothing less than honest. He had seen me naked and desperate, unashamed by acting like a whore in front of a near stranger. “Yes, I would’ve gone out there,” I replied, “but I only would have been relieved by the herm. Here I was satisfied. By you.”
He blinked at me several times; although he smiled, his eyes were somber. He was trying to find something to say, but nothing seemed adequate. I felt the pulse of his penis on my skin, and I moved a little into it, and it responded with an immediate thickening. I sighed in pleasure at this small victory, his desire returning as quickly as his erection. Now he found words. “Shall I satisfy you again, dear one?” I had already slipped from his grasp and assumed the posture of a woman in heat. With a chuckle, he replied with that of a man in need, in lust.
We ate the sausage and mushroom pizza in bed, not wanting to be far from it in the event our sexual appetite returned, although we would’ve used any willing surface to support either one of our backs. Theo had gone to answer the door, even though I teased him that he wouldn’t be able go five minutes without an erection. He’d tossed the comforter over me to hide my charms from his all-too-easily persuaded eyes, and turned his back on me as he slipped on his shorts. I’d planned to fix him when he returned, and arranged myself in all my naked glory in the center of the bed. Propped up on pillows and cushions, my index and middle fingers were deep in my pussy as I heard him humming, coming back to the bedroom. He’d anticipated my trick, and he was already nude, half-erect, as he came into the room.
He balanced the pizza box on the foot-board and climbed into bed beside me. “Such a wicked thing,” he nuzzled my cheek, pulling my hand from between my legs. “I thought we both decided we were hungry.”
We had, and I might’ve made some flippant comment about preferring lowly pizza to sex, except I could only watch and let out a thin sound of desire, as he took my offending fingers and sucked them dry, one by one, never taking his eyes from me. “What a lovely appertif,” he sighed, savoring each one. I thought it best to restrain myself during dinner, and we sat together like old college friends, sharing a glass of Coke as we ate over the pizza box. In spite of our remarkable reserve, the pizza was slippery with cheese, and we each suffered our share of spattered tomato sauce and the errant mushroom slice. A quick lick here or there served for a hasty clean-up, but we’d benefit from a real shower after dinner.
Theo put aside the pizza box and the uneaten portion and I rolled onto my belly, feeling pleasantly but not overly full. The gnawing sensation from having missed dinner several hours ago had been appeased, and I was returning to my reverie at being naked in this wonderful fellow’s bed. I turned up my head as he lay beside me, and he kissed some tomato sauce from the corner of my mouth. “Would my little one like a shower?” he said, reading my mind.
“That would be nice.” I could hear the rain continue outside, slowing at last. I certainly didn’t want to go home. To prove that point, I swayed my bottom a little, and Theo ran his hand from my shoulder, where he’d been tangling it in my hair, down my spine and over my buttocks, letting it remain there. The very tips of his fingers dropped into the curving crack. He leaned forward and nuzzled my shoulder.
“Do you know what a hoplite is, little one?” he asked me lazily, the pads of his fingers pressing against my buttocks almost imperceptibly. While I don’t think I reacted outwardly, I heard a catch in my inner voice. Had he read my mind again? I murmured a yes, and found myself spreading my legs apart more than slightly so that the cheeks of my ass moved apart as well. Theo rumbled a laugh in his chest and took advantage of this development; his fingertips touched lower against my flesh, coming to rest on the narrow strip of tissue that formed the separation between my buttocks. “Do you know how they loved?”
I raised my head and looked at him over my shoulder. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. Your beautiful bottom seems intrigued by such things.” To prove his point, a single finger touched my anus, resting there lightly but persistently, like a dragonfly on a blade of grass. I let out a hiss of desire. “You see?”
“Yes.” I hoped that he might put a finger in me again, as he had done while we shared our first sensual embrace, but he didn’t. “I’ve only done that once before, Theo,” I told him matter of factly. “Actually, it was done to me. I’d said I was interested, and about all I did from that point was to get on my hands and knees. The next thing I knew I had the guy’s entire dick up my ass.” I said this as quickly as the encounter had been for me. “It hurt like fire, and there was blood afterward.”
“Oh, your poor bottom!” he said empathically, regarding it with a certain sadness. “What an idiot he must’ve been.”
I shrugged, acknowledging his assessment of my previous encounter. “Well, it didn’t happen again.” That one experience hadn’t completely soured me on the idea, and I smiled at Theo. “I’m not unwilling, with the right person, and the right touch,” I said quietly. The dragonfly pushed against me very nicely, and I sighed, a smile curling my lips.
Theo drew me from the bed and took me into the bathroom, which had a separate shower stall and bathtub. We decided on a shower, the bathtub really only made to accommodate a single person – we’d wait for that new spa to explore our lust underwater. Our initial soaping brought Theo to a proud erection, as large as it always was, just as he’d whispered into my ear. I was a little anxious, but I’d been consumed with pleasure during our first intercourse. Now he was unerringly patient, massaging my buttocks and my thighs, rubbing my belly and breasts with an erotic massage that in time made me willing to do anything with him.
With a generous handful of liquid soap and warm water, I turned my back on him, leaning against the glass of the shower walls as he gently pried my cheeks apart. I fondled his penis and positioned the swollen head against my skin. I finally gathered up my courage let go of it and pressed my hands to the glass, forcing myself to breathe evenly and deeply. In this position I had to trust Theo entirely.
Each exhalation from my lungs was a form of relaxation, and I felt the turgid knob of his erection rest low between the cheeks of my soapy buttocks. I tried not to tense up. I’d licked and sucked it in bed, and it didn’t seem so threatening there. On the other hand, my mouth could open a lot wider than my ass, which seemed to have a particularly stubborn mind of its own, particularly at a time like this.
A few moments passed, and now I felt Theo press the glans against me with a heavy, deliberate tension. My sphincter widened gradually and stayed that way. No relief, no respite. I heard myself mewling and crying, tiny sobs, but I wasn’t going to say no or stop. More pressure. Please don’t let it be pain, I prayed, forcing myself to take deep breaths. Water from the shower spilled into my open mouth. More pressure. “Oooh,” I moaned, locking my knees so I wouldn’t jerk away from between Theo and the wall.
There was a sudden ease in the pressure, only a tiny bit, really, but a notifiable change, and I heard Theo laughing in the rush of water. My sphincter was stretched open and being held there by the width of his erection. Theo’s hands slipped around me, taking hold of a heaving breast.
“Look, dear one,” he urged me, “see how pretty you are in the mirror.” He could see me pressed against the clear glass of the shower door, and as he saw my smile in the reflection, he squeezed my breasts.
“You look so happy. Even your tetas are happy.” My nipples were hard and pleasingly sore with his kisses and nips. “And how is your little pearl? Is it happy, too?” One hand reached down between my legs, coaxing my clit out of its fleshy sheath with a few tempting strokes.
I leaned against him, trying to watch us. “Are you in all the way?” I asked, nuzzling his neck.
“Oh, my heavens, no, little one. A little at a time. No more this time. This is a strange, exotic place for both of us. We need to go slowly so we can explore it.” I reached behind me and discovered that only the head of his penis had penetrated me; the shaft was nestled between my cheeks. “You see? Just my juicy purple plum on top – it feels good just like this, doesn’t it?”
I could hardly argue with him. I was pleasantly opened, and my mound was being fingered expertly. I began to respond to that, which in turn, tightened my anus around his erection. He grasped at the tightness, which only served to spur me to another spasm of passion. We took turns gasping for air, and after an brief but intense interlude of squeezing and massaging and prodding, we came one after the other, my body leaning heavily against the glass, water cascading over my shoulders and back, my clit burning down to my toes, while Theo cried out like the thunder, delivering wave after wave of come into me. He carefully leaned on me, as the spasms passed through his penis and into my body, and already I was anticipating the next time we joined this way, taking his erection just a little deeper into my body, locking it into me ruthlessly.
I moved in a week later.
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Reading Allowed, Pt.8
READING ALLOWED, Part 8
By lamignonne and Zenmackie
Marie felt wretched. While he was gone, it had been easy to nurture her feelings of resentment towards him for leaving her alone all day, tied up and bored, and suffering acutely from her unsatisfied lust. As the long day had worn on, her jaw aching more by the hour, her stomach growling, her body cold and bruised and her head more often than not in one of his toilets, Marie’s frustration had grown and grown. She’d even started to feel like she was justified in snooping around in his study. After all, she’d given up her whole weekend for him and he hadn’t even seen fit to stay at home!
Marie hadn’t been able to form any kind of resolve about how she was going to behave when her Master came home, other than the vague idea that she certainly deserved some attention from him and would be prepared to communicate just that if she didn’t get any. But her resolution wavered the second she sensed him in the bathroom. He’d startled her, standing there so quietly while she worked, squashed up against the toilet for all the world as if she were embracing it. She’d dropped the cleaning brush and it had splashed her, and just like that, she was at a disadvantage. As usual.
As she’d struggled to kneel the way he liked, Marie tried to cope with the confusing riot of emotions that she was feeling. On the one hand, she was still mad at him, anxious to show him that she didn’t appreciate his leaving her; on the other, his presence overwhelmed her, intruded even on her carefully nourished anger, and all her instincts were screaming at her to throw herself at his feet and show him her joy and relief that he’d returned. Her desire to have her suffering acknowledged by him warred with the desire to suffer still more, to do anything he wanted as long as he would smile at her and tell her she was a good girl. She could feel him studying her and trembled. Her urge to grovel grew stronger as he approached her, overpowering her with his presence, torturing her with suspense. As he gripped her chin and raised her face to look in her eyes, Marie had panicked, terrified he’d be able to see her every disloyal, petulant thought, and then she had made the terrible choice to show him her anger.
How quickly he’d put her in her place, she thought miserably now. In truth, he’d had all the power from the moment he’d come into the bathroom, had controlled her more efficiently with just his presence than his chains had been able to do throughout the long day. He stood before her and her body shook with the desire to kneel; he humiliated her and she craved his approval beyond every other need. She had tried defiance just this once, confronting him with nothing more than the look in her eyes, and his reaction had been immediate, painful and devastatingly effective. Marie had realized again, with excruciating clarity, that her attitude was still all wrong. It was her privilege to be allowed to spend the weekend with him, her undeserved honor that he was willing to teach her. After all, she hadn’t been a very good slave…
She clung to his ankles, her forehead resting on his feet, trying to control her sobs and hoping against hope that her obvious contrition would mollify his displeasure with her. At long last, he spoke.
“You’re getting toilet-water all over my shoes.”
The mildness of his tone, with its bare hint of amusement, filled her with such relief and delight that Marie felt like scampering around the bathroom and wagging her tail like the good little doggie she wanted to be for him. But she made herself hold perfectly still for a moment, then slowly raised her face to his again and, trying very hard not to smile, said, “I’m sorry, Master.”
Yes! His expression was now one of bemused affection; he was no longer angry with her! Oh, thank God.
He grabbed a hand-towel from a nearby rack, roughly dried her face and hair with it then threw it down on the floor beside her. Marie knew he was expecting her to use it to dry his shoes.
Instead she once more lowered her head….and began licking them clean.
It didn’t take long—less than a minute—to complete the task, but something about it, the complete and utter abasement of kneeling at his feet, naked and in chains, licking toilet water from his shoes, was setting her on fire. She had no time to analyze it—all she knew was she had to have his cock in her mouth—now.
She sat up. Her eyes flickered up to him once—he was frowning down at her, but not angrily. He seemed intent, as if he was trying to guess at her thoughts. Feeling suddenly sure of herself, Marie leaned forward and placed a kiss on the front of his pants where his erection strained against the fabric. She nuzzled her cheek there and looked up at him again, holding his gaze this time. “Please, Master,” she said, “may I suck your cock?”
They were both a little stunned. Marie couldn’t believe how strong and confident her voice had sounded. Her pussy flooded with moisture at the sound of the words; her eyes sparkled with excitement. Even though he’d just spanked her, even though her hair was wet with toilet water and she was naked and chained, this felt right.
As for her Master, he couldn’t get his pants open fast enough. He’d think about what her behavior meant in a few minutes—right now, he focused on Marie’s hot, talented little mouth as she bent to her work. Good God, it felt like she was trying to swallow him whole!
Marie was overtaken by a strange sort of frenzy. It was as if she couldn’t get enough of his cock in her mouth. Her captive hands reached for his balls and her fingers lifted them, rubbed them, and squeezed them gently all the while her face was pressed against his groin, her throat full of him. She massaged the spot below his balls and her tongue went into overdrive on his shaft.
This was one time he wasn’t worried about coming too soon. He thought he was going to die of pleasure… He lost control as he came, grabbing her head and thrusting himself violently down her throat. She swallowed gamely, and when he finally opened his eyes, still breathing hard, she was kneeling there smiling at him.
He could hardly believe it. She had just begged to be allowed to pleasure him. She’d begged him before, to gain her own pleasure or because he’d ordered her to, but this was different. He’d never have expected her to reach this stage of submission so soon. And he knew she’d been sincere. Even now, she was still grinning like he’d just given her a present.
What was it about this girl that she’d gotten under his skin so fast? To be truthful, he’d come home earlier than he’d planned, anxious to see how his little slave had fared in his absence. He’d had to conceal a hard-on quite a few times throughout the day, every time he pictured her humping his fingers as she had this morning or the desperate, pleading look on her face when she realized he was going to leave her bound and frustrated. What a homecoming he’d gotten! And they still had all evening to spend together before he really ought to be getting her back to campus. They’d eat first—and then he had a few things he wanted to try.
Her Master hadn’t said anything, and he’d only given her the briefest of smiles, but Marie knew he was pleased with her. She tensed just a little as he reached down and hauled her to her feet—grabbing her elbow this time, instead of her hair—surely that was a good sign. He tossed her over his shoulder into a fireman’s carry and headed for the stairs. Marie felt a little panicky as she realized that, with her hands bound by her neck, she had no way to break her fall if he dropped her, but his grip was firm and the feeling subsided. Now, as he entered the kitchen—the scene of her imprudence that morning—she just had to worry about what he would do with her next.
It seemed that they had both learned a lesson from that morning’s encounter: when they reached the kitchen table he simply put her down next to his chair, lifting the table leg to secure the end of her leash as she took her kneeling pose. He said not one word to her about cooking, and Marie allowed herself a small grin as she watched him preparing dinner.
It was a simple meal; he steamed some rice and saut? a few chopped vegetables, tossing in some bits of cold chicken from the refrigerator. But he added spices like a master chef–a pinch of one, a sprinkle of another, tasting and nodding to himself. The air began to fill with a deliciously complex aroma and Marie was forcefully reminded that she’d had nothing to eat since breakfast, unless she counted her Master’s come. If she still had her ball-gag on, she knew, she’d be drooling all over herself. As it was she simply swallowed hard, kept her position tight and her attention on him, hoping that her stomach wouldn’t gurgle and embarrass her as it had that morning.
Yet even though she was famished, not to mention ragingly horny, she became aware that underlying all the physical and emotional turbulence lay a very unfamiliar sensation: serenity. Her needs were no longer her concern—her Master would take care of them in due time, and that’s all she needed to know. She felt a contented smile creep across her face.
Her smile only widened when she saw him reach down into a cabinet next to the stove and bring out a shining aluminum dog bowl. She knew it was for her, and she brushed away the troublesome thought that it already been there and not purchased especially for her. Maybe he used to have a dog. Or maybe…no, she would not think about that. This moment—now—was all there needed to be.
She gave him her most loving smile as he set the bowl, filled to the brim with steaming food, on the floor beside her before setting his plate on the table. She followed him with her eyes and then her body, shuffling around on her knees to remain facing towards him as he pulled out his chair and sat. She gave not the slightest glance to her bowl of food—it was not hers until he said it was.
When he was settled in place he turned to look at her, and to Marie it was obvious that he was pleased with what he saw: that his slave was simply waiting, giving him her complete and silent attention. He actually beamed at her and caressed the side of her face with his hand, and Marie felt as though she would melt with happiness. After a moment he withdrew his hand and said, “You must be starving, princess. Please go ahead.”
“Thank you, Master,” Marie replied, wishing she could kiss him just then. She turned away and bent down to her bowl…and was quite pleased to discover that he had placed it so that while she ate she would be displaying her upraised ass and pussy for his pleasure. She began to eat.
Marie’s hands had reached out automatically to steady herself as she bent over the dog bowl, only to be jerked back by the chains holding them to her collar. She was suddenly mindful of her discomfort again. She hadn’t been able to straighten her arms for hours, now, and the urge to stretch her elbows was driving her crazy. Marie tried to focus on the food, which was fragrant and delicious and which she was eating way too fast, but her mind kept wandering. Would he let her spend the night again? She could get all her homework done tomorrow, if she was diligent, and it would be totally worth it if he’d fuck her again tonight, and hold her like he had last night as she fell asleep.
Before she knew it, Marie found herself licking the bowl clean. She’d scarfed her dinner down with undignified haste, and blushed rosily as she realized her Master had probably only taken a few civilized bites by now. She really was just like his pet. Well, in for a pound…Marie thought, and shuffled on her knees over to his chair to lay her head on his knee. She held her breath, hoping for some sign of approval from him, and sure enough, a moment later she felt his hand resting lightly on her head. Another moment passed, and he stroked her hair. Marie felt her chest expand with happiness.
Several minutes later, he gently tugged on her hair to get her to sit up. He held a glass of water for her while she drank, waiting until she had finished it. He, she saw, was drinking from an expensive-looking bottle of red wine. A few more minutes passed while he savored his wine, then he stood and retrieved a clean dishcloth, wet it, and came back to clean Marie’s face. She blushed anew. She certainly hadn’t been worried about keeping her face clean while she ate, she realized now. She was vaguely surprised that he did it silently, making no attempt to humiliate her further. Was that because he had more challenges in store for her later this evening?
Marie watched as her Master performed only the most rudimentary clean-up of the kitchen. Leaving the dishes for later didn’t seem like his style, and she smiled to herself, imagining that he was in a hurry to play some more with her—his toy.
She wasn’t far off, if she’d known it. The impromptu blow job in the bathroom might as well have never happened for all the difference it made to his cock, which was again hard as a rock. He deliberately kept the wine bottle in one hand while he freed Marie’s leash from the table leg and led her into the living room. He knew from experience that if he had a few more swallows he’d be able to last a lot longer, and he definitely wanted to drag this next experience out as long as possible.
Leaving Marie kneeling in front of his oversized arm chair, he set the wine down on the end table there and went upstairs to get a few supplies. He was pleased to see, on his way back down, that her eyes hadn’t strayed from the stairway; she was avidly watching for his return. The apprehension in her gaze was adorable, and as he sat in the chair in front of her he took a moment just to look her over. Then he leaned forward and unlocked the chains at her wrists.
He watched her eyes fill with tears as she tried, with excruciating slowness, to straighten her arms for the first time in hours. He let her struggle for a moment, then he reached for her hands, saying, “It’s easier if you do it all at once”—and yanked her arms straight before she could react.
Marie gasped, but as the blood flowed freely into her stiff joints, she saw that he was right. She flexed her arms for a few minutes, unable to keep back a sigh of pleasure as the pain and stiffness eased.
She wasn’t going to be relieved for long. “Turn around,” he ordered suddenly, “and give me your hands.” She obeyed, turning her back to him and holding her hands behind her. He cuffed them together, then used a leather cinch he’d brought down on her upper arms just above her elbows, pulling it tight and watching her shoulder blades point out and her back arch, hearing her gasp. He bent to unlock the short chain between her ankles then said, “Face me.”Perfect. His little pet, arching her back to relieve the strain on her arms, looked as if she were presenting her tits for his pleasure. He was also surprised and pleased to see that she’d spread her knees apart after he’d unlocked them, and he could already see the telltale sheen of moisture on her pussy. She was panting, but whether it was from arousal or the pain in her bound arms he couldn’t tell. He leaned back in the chair and took a sip of wine, then said, “What did you think about today, Princess?”
Her eyes flickered up to his–then she lowered them modestly. “I missed you, Sir,” she said quietly.
He wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily. “And did you like cleaning the house for me?”
Marie only debated for a second—he’d know if she lied, she reasoned—but she couldn’t look at him.. “No, Sir.”
“Why not?”
“It was—I was bored, Sir,” she stammered. He could tell she wanted to add something, so he waited. “But—but I’ll be happy to do it again, Sir, if you let me.”
“Why is that, Princess?”
“Because I like…obeying your orders, Sir.” Her voice nearly died at the end of her reply, but he was satisfied. This must be the result of the epiphany she’d seemed to have in the bathroom earlier. Unquestionably, she’d been angry with him before he came home, but now she seemed to have come to a better understanding, and acceptance, of her role as his pet—all on her own. However, it couldn’t hurt to give her some additional encouragement.
“And I like giving them to you, pet,” he said, smiling at her. “You did very well today.”
He watched her face glow with happiness for a moment, then he brought out the nipple clamps. These were a different pair than the one she’d worn last night; they had a gentler bite, but came adorned with tacky pink plastic hearts that dangled on a thin, short chain about an inch and a half long. Remembering her face as she’d looked at the purple, heart-shaped paddle in the store, he guessed that wearing these would humiliate his princess more than wearing the plain ones had. Indeed, she looked chagrined at the sight of them, but bravely maintained her posture, her chest still thrust towards him invitingly. He took advantage of that for a few minutes, fondling and teasing, and she didn’t flinch from him even when he twisted and pulled her nipples, although she winced and whimpered a little. He even slapped her breasts a few times, noting that they were just large enough to bounce when he did it. This was going to be great.
Her face flamed as he attached the clips and she felt the dangling hearts brushing against the underside of her breasts. He thought he’d never get tired of seeing that blush. He jiggled her breasts, just to rub it in a little, then very deliberately removed his pants and boxers and leaned back in the chair. Her eyes went wide at the sight of his fully-erect cock, and she actually licked her lips, making him want to laugh. “Climb on, princess,” he said, some of his amusement leaking into his voice.
She looked at him like she wasn’t sure he was serious, then stood up eagerly and way too fast. She teetered for a moment, throwing one foot behind her to catch her balance, then more carefully moved toward his chair. He helped her, reaching for her waist and settling her over his lap, her knees balanced on the chair’s seat on either side of him. There was plenty of room for her legs on the wide seat, and she looked down into his face as she hovered there, leaning forward slightly to keep her balance. Her pussy, visibly wet, was mere inches from his upthrust cock, and they were both breathing heavily already. “Two rules, Princess,” he said, his voice rough with arousal. “First, you can come as much as you want—but you have to tell me, every time. Second, I want to see these—” he flicked the dangling hearts on her nipple clamps “—in motion. If they stop moving, we’re done. And, Princess, break either rule, and I will punish you.”
He watched her shudder with desire at his words. “Yes, Master,” she said, her voice as hoarse as his. He gripped her hips and helped her lower herself onto him, inch by pleasurable inch. As their hips finally met, he felt her grinding against him, finally stimulating her clit, which had been aching all day to be touched. But, mindful of rule number two, she didn’t linger there, but started to ride him, rising up on her knees, then sinking down and taking his whole length again. It was hard, because with her hands bound behind her, she could rely only on her leg muscles both for balance and to move over him. Her tummy muscles clenched with her efforts to keep upright and not tip forward or backward.
She’d only humped him twice when she suddenly threw her head back, moaning, “Oh, oh God, Sir, I’m going to come!” Her cry ended on a gasp and he felt her clench on him, felt the rush of moisture where their bodies were joined, and it was all he had not to come himself. “Keep fucking me—keep going, Princess,” he rasped, restraining himself from grabbing her hips and setting his own rhythm. She started humping him furiously as she rode out her orgasm, her head back and her mouth open, and he watched a fiery blush spread over her face and down her chest. She didn’t seem to be breathing, but just as he was going to intervene, she sucked in a huge breath of air and slowed down slightly.
The slower speed was almost better. He could have sworn she was clenching on him each time she rose up, her pussy squeezing every inch of him as if it were afraid to let go. He had no idea if she was doing it on purpose or not, but that, combined with the sight of the clamps bouncing on her chest, had him close to coming again within a few seconds. He couldn’t resist reaching up to pull on the clamps, and that set her off again, and as she started to come she cried, “Sir, oh, I can’t help it, I’m com—” Again, she lost the end of her sentence as her whole body tensed in rapture. It lasted even longer this time, and when it finally stopped he was gripping the arms of the chair in a desperate attempt to hold back his own orgasm.
She didn’t slow this time, but continued to fuck him rhythmically, at an almost frantic pace. She was putting all she had into it, slamming her pelvis down onto him with each thrust. Her whole body was covered with a sheen of sweat and her face was beet red. Her thighs must have been burning by now, but she obviously had more in her. He wondered what some dirty talk would do to her, so he tried it, growling, “Oh, yeah, fuck me, you horny little cunt! You can’t help yourself, can you? Such a dirty slut!”
It worked—she howled as she started to come again, just barely managing to gasp out, “Com—coming!” before her pussy contracted like a vise. He felt her squirting again and suddenly couldn’t help himself any longer. He grabbed her hips and started slamming her down onto his cock himself, grunting as he neared his climax. She had recovered somewhat and tried to urge him on, saying, “Yes, Master, I’m your dirty slut!”—and then she felt his hot load filling her, and lost herself again. He might not have seen it, so lost was he in the throes of orgasm, but that she lost her balance, tipping backwards as she closed her eyes against the surprising onslaught of pleasure. He had to quickly shift his grip to keep her upright, and even as he experienced his final shudders of pleasure, he was thinking of how much he’d enjoy teaching his slave a lesson about breaking the rules.
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