It wasn’t but a second before she was hungrily slurping on my erect cock. Then she started to run the tip of one of her fingers down the crease of my sack and just between my unit and my ass. It tickled in a delightful way and it was just enough distraction to keep me from cumming in her mouth.
My eyes were closed tightly to the sensation, but that did not preclude me from following instinct. I reached down with both of my hands and allowed them to find the back of Sammie’s head. I held her by the hair and kept her mouth in place. I began to virtually fuck her mouth. Every few strokes, I slowly attempted to push my cock in to the hilt. I could hear and feel her gag a little and it made me feel powerful; as though I was back in charge.
Sammie, however, had something else in mind. She must have been playing with her wonderfully wet pussy while sucking me off because the tip of her finger glided into my ass with relative ease. I was a bit startled by the penetration, but her goal was reached. I stopped fucking her face and simply let her work her magic. Within a few more seconds, she had me at the edge of blowing my load. She must have felt that sudden twitch just before an orgasm and she stopped.
She pulled her mouth away from my cock as a single strand of saliva still connected us in the intimacy of that very moment. I wanted so badly to cum, but I wanted even more so for it to be in one of her holes. “I want to fuck you in the shower.” She was still breathy for the oral fucking she had just given, but it made her even sexier.
“The shower?” I questioned. She had never wanted that before, but years change a person and her fantasies. I had no problem with fucking her in the shower or anywhere else for that matter, so I agreed.
She stood up from her hovering position and reached her hands out to me. I took them and stood up from the bed. My cock jutted out from my body and met her just above her pussy. I grabbed her around her waist and lifted her onto me. Her legs wrapped around me, even with my buttocks, and finally gave the head of my dick access to her pussy. She lowered herself down just enough for her opening to swallow the tip, and only the tip. I tried to push upward, but she moved away. I tried to pull her down, but she resisted with a squeeze of her thighs. “Fucking tease,” I protested, but to no avail.
“In the shower,” she nearly commanded as she leapt free from my grasp. I smiled at her as she pointed toward the bathroom. She was adamant about this shower thing, so I complied. I began to walk away, but realized that she was not coming with me right away. “Aren’t you coming?” I was puzzled once more by her strange behavior. “No. I’m going to let you get it warm first,” she explained matter-of-factly.
Once more, she was in charge. I walked, naked and alone, to the shower. My cock bounced from left to right with each step until I reached the nozzle and turned it on. Once the shower was warm, I stepped in. The water was relaxing as the warmth ran through my hair and down my back. In a natural motion, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes to the stream of water until I heard the shower curtain open.
“It’s about time,” I said as I wiped water away from my eyes. I wanted to move quickly as to get a glimpse of her full naked body before pinning her to cold tile wall. However, that is not what I saw.
“What do you think?” Sammie’s voice was sweet and coaxing despite her devious behavior. I looked her over and asked, “What the hell is that?” She answered, “What do you think?”
She stood with her arms down to her sides, but she let her fingertips glide up her hips to the leather straps that resembled those of her panties. She tugged lightly upward on them as though she was adjusting a bikini. She seemed as nervous as I had become. “So?” she questioned.
I half laughed and asked, “How is this supposed to work?”
Sammie grinned that evil grin. She had me hooked with curiosity. She reached just outside of the shower curtain to the edge of the sink and returned with a bottle of lube. “Give me your hand,” she commanded softly. I did so and she poured a generous amount of lube into the palm of my hand. She was smooth as she put the bottle aside and grabbed my hand with both her hers. She guided my hand to the rubber cock poking out from her leather, panty-like straps. Her hands grasped around mine until my hand was wrapped around her strap on dick. She guided my hand up and down slowly as to teach me how to jack off. Then she leaned in and kissed me deeply. I trembled.
I’m not sure how long I rubbed her cock, but I found that her hands were no longer with mine. She had moved her hands to my cock as I rubbed hers and we continued to kiss.
Sammie, apparently more ready than me, put her hands to my shoulders and steered me to go around her. I still faced the wall away from the shower head. I felt her turn around to face my back. Her shaft seemingly slapped me across the ass as she turned and I chuckled a small nervous laugh.
“Put your hands on the wall.” I couldn’t tell if she was gritting her teeth or not, but I knew that she was now giving commands. I did as I was told and placed my hands flat to the wall. She had not told me to bend over, but it only seemed like the thing to do if I was to be fucked in the ass with my hands on the wall.
Sammie wasted no time. I felt her hands separate my ass and I nearly jumped at the sudden cold that was the tip of her rubber cock at my hole. She pushed inward to me awkwardly and the tip forced its way into my ass. I gritted and sucked air through my teeth in the universal sign of anguish.
I jumped forward and away from her strap on. “That thing is fucking huge,” I protested. Again, my protest went to no avail. Sammie told me to turn back around and put my hands back on the wall. Reluctantly, I did so. She spread my ass once more and paused when the tip was at my hole again.
“Push back when you are ready.” She may have been in control, but she was at least going to be gentle.
Continue next page ……..
I inhaled deeply then exhaled. I felt myself relax and I eased back. I felt my ass open a little, but I was not ready. I pulled away again, but this time it was slower and I kept light pressure against my rectum. Another inhale and another exhale later and I pushed back again. This time, the head of her rubber member popped into my ass. I nearly jumped away again, but I took another deep breath again. I suddenly felt sorry for every woman I had ever fucked in the ass. It was painful as I stretched open.
Sammie still didn’t move. Her hands stroked up and down my back softly as to relax me further. Her touch was soothing, but only a second more of having a rubber cock in my ass would help me stop clenching. I took another deep breath and slowly slid my ass all the way down the shaft.
I could feel it deep within me and I felt as though I was ready for whatever Sammie had to offer. “Are you okay?” she questioned. I didn’t answer with anything more than a nod of my head. My hands were still pressed hard to the wall. Suddenly, I felt Sammie’s hands grab my hips. I wasn’t quite sure if she knew what she was doing, but she had the first step down. Then I felt the fronts of her breasts touch my back. She leaned over me and whispered, “Do you remember the time you fucked me in the ass?”
With that, she stood back up. Her hands were still fixed to my hips and she pulled back as she thrust her hips forward. Before that, I thought that I had the full length of her dildo in my ass. She somehow managed to find more to give as her hips pushed into my ass cheeks.
I felt the cock withdraw from my ass until the lip of the head stopped it from coming out all the way. Sammie slid the length of her toy back into me. Her second pump was better than the difficult and painful first. In fact, it felt magnificent. She withdrew again; then thrust forward again. I don’t know if she had ever done this before, but she was fucking me like I had fucked her so many times. She pulled out and delivered in long strokes that nearly buckled my knees each time. She was firm, but loving.
Before I knew it, I was pushing my ass back to meet her thrusts forward. It was as if I was begging her with my ass. I pushed back to pull her in deeper as her hips slammed into my ass cheeks over and over again. Then, she made sure that she had control. She pushed forward and moved to fuck me deeper. I could feel my legs giving out and my arms finally collapsed. It may have only been a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity as my forehead fell to my lower arms. I was only braced by the sturdiness of the shower wall and Sammie’s grasps on my hips. She fucked me hard and deep until I was pinned to the wall in the same fashion that I had planned for her.
Then, there was a strange sensation. I felt Sammie twitch in a completely different rhythm. She broke her stride as she came. I wished that I had given her the orgasm rather than the constant rubbing and bumping of her clit against the dildo that was in my ass, but I loved that she came.
The thought of Sammie “cumming in my ass” made me even harder. My cock ached to cum, so I reached down with my left hand to stroke it. Sammie apparently didn’t like that all too much, so she smacked my hand away. “Put your hand on the fucking wall.” She was brash and even sexier than before. I folded my left arm across my right and rested my head against them on the wall.
Sammie pumped harder and faster than she had before her orgasm. This was clearly her revenge fuck for the time that I had shoved my cock into her ass.
“Please…” I muttered.
“What?” she questioned through gritted teeth.
“Please let me cum.”
She didn’t say a word. She simply slowed her pace to long and hard strokes against my hole. She was sure to slap her hips against my ass with every push. She was in so deep that I felt that I might pass out if I didn’t come soon.
Just then, I felt her hand wrap around my rock hard cock. She began to rub up and down with the same rhythm that kept her going in and out of my ass.
“Ahhhh!” was the only phrase I could muster. I had never had a screaming orgasm before, but the gobs of cum that fell from my cock were too much to handle silently. Thick wads of cum poured out of me as I came and kept cumming. It was almost painful to have my asshole clenching tightly to the shaft that was still pumping in and out of me.
My breath returned to me just in time for me to beg her to stop. Stop jacking my cock. Stop fucking my ass. Stop making me cum. My heart pounded and my loins throbbed. My dick was still hard, but was done. My ass did nothing to hold the large dildo as Sammie pulled it free from my anal grip. I was completely spent.
Sammie got out of the shower and I heard the sink turn on. I could only assume that she was washing up. I, however, was still unable to move from my “just been fucked” position. My head still rested against my forearms. I was still bent at the waist and perched against the wall.
I heard the sink turn off and I was finally able to stand. I felt my hole clenching and relaxing at the absence of the dildo. I felt as though I wanted more, but knew that I could not handle it.
I exited the shower, dried off, and returned to the bed where Sammie lay waiting.
“Did you like that,” she questioned as if she had not just given me the biggest orgasm I had ever endured. I simply laughed. “How does your ass feel?”
“Open.” It was the only thing I could think to say, but she chuckled like she knew exactly what I was talking about.
I lay down next to her and embraced her in a kiss. I pressed my naked body, along with my softening cock against her. I wanted so badly to stay awake and to hold onto her for awhile longer, but drifted asleep.
The next morning, I woke up and Sammie was gone. She left no note, no message, no tender word. She just left a strap on dildo and harness on one foot post of my bed, and a pair of black, lace g-string panties on the other.
The End
Time
Trish and Gina had met on the first day of Band Camp, well before Orientation for the first-year university students. By the time the non-band/non-sports first-year students arrived, they were already building a solid friendship. As fall became winter, they spent many a cold night crossing the wind-swept campus between each other’s dorms, where they would spend many hours laughing, consoling, or even just sitting in silence while sharing a cup of hot chocolate. Spring Break was spent together on a Florida beach, flirting with just about anyone around their age, tanning in their bikinis during the day and dancing in the clubs at night until the music finally ended.
Their sophomore year brought on a new dimension: They were roommates. Certainly, they had their spats as roommates, but any anger was very short-lived as their friendship only deepened. At times, they would even share a guy, sometimes both of them teasing him mercilessly, sometimes with Trish watching and touching herself as Gina and the hunk of the night engaged in rather vigorous sex, and sometimes with Trish being the one fortunate to have something long and hard repeatedly spearing her as Gina provided encouragement.
Yet through it all, Trish wanted nothing more than to give herself to her best friend.
That only continued through their junior year, again as roommates. Fights were far fewer, and sexual threesomes in equal decline as their studies took more and more of their precious time. That was when they discovered bondage, when Trey, who had been their threesome partner a few other times, wanted to restrain Gina before fucking her, and as Trish watched and caressed her best friend’s face and reveled in how her roommate’s breasts moved upon her chest as she was reamed, she was amazed at how Gina’s demeanor changed, how she became somewhat submissive, how she struggled in the bonds not for escape, but for enjoyment.
It was prime information to be filed away for potential usage later.
Their final year of university began as usual, with Band Camp. It was great for Trish to see her best friend and roommate after the summer break, and the tight hug they shared was incredibly exuberant. Yet Trish knew, deep in her heart, that she needed to make her move.
Time was running out.
Yet studies quickly came first, and all too soon, it was the Holiday Break. As Trish sat in her bedroom on Christmas Night listening to her parents arguing downstairs, she sighed dejectedly, wishing she could be with Gina, wondering what Gina was doing, hoping that Gina was happy.
She thought back to that night when Gina had been bound to the bed, the ropes biting into the wrists and ankles. She remembered the expression of submission in her best friend’s eyes, the way Gina had sensuously whispered “Use me,” the sultry manner in which she had writhed upon the bed to appeal to Trey’s vision.
They had not enjoyed a threesome with Trey since that intriguing night, but Trish had an idea…
Shortly after returning to campus and before Gina returned from the Holiday Break, Trish finally wrote the e-mail she had been composing in her mind for nearly two weeks:
Trey -
Do you remember that night last spring when you brought some ropes with you and tied Gina to the bed before you fucked her? The way she responded simply amazed me. I’ve never known such a strong-willed independent woman to turn so suddenly submissive like that. My guess is that she’d long fantasized about being bound and used, and that was exactly what happened that night.
You’ve known Gina and I both for quite a while, so perhaps this won’t surprise you: I’ve fallen for her. I know it’s strange, and it still surprises me, but I think I love her, but no matter what, I haven’t had the courage to broach that issue with her.
Time is running out. This will be our last semester together before we go our separate ways into the world. Even if just for one night, I want to love her and hopefully have her love me.
For that, I’d like your help. Specifically, what I have in mind is for you to come to our dorm room one night when I’m not there, and eventually get her naked and bound to the bed again, with a blindfold over her eyes, then you’d leave. A few minutes later, it would be me who steps into the room, and I can take things forward from there.
I realize I could be putting you in a very difficult position with this, but I’ve considered many possibilities, and I think this is the best way.
Please reply as soon as you can.
- Trish
She pressed the “Send” button and sealed her fate.
A few hours later, she received a reply from Trey:
We’ll talk later. I think we can do this.
Trish was elated, and that joy increased exponentially when Gina opened the door a few minutes later.
Since Gina would be student-teaching in her final semester and the local school system had a different week off for Spring Break, Trish decided to stay on campus that week as well so that Gina would not be lonely. However, on the cautious side, Trish had also reserved a hotel room for that week, in case her plans created an uncomfortable situation.
As the fateful night approached, Trish and Trey strolled across campus together one evening, quietly discussing the plans. Clandestinely, they had met periodically over the previous eight weeks, for while Trey had been very new to BDSM when he had roped Gina to the bed, he had learned much more in the interim, and even semi-routinely dominated a member of the women’s volleyball team. His discussions of bondage methods, how to properly flog someone, and the awesome beauty of a woman denied orgasm for nearly an hour filled her imagination as she wondered how Gina would react to all of that and plenty more.
Continue next page ……..
The plans had finally solidified, and the Thursday evening before Spring Break, as Trish sat in the downstairs lounge studying for a test the next morning, she looked up as Trey passed by, a backpack upon his right shoulder, and she smiled at his knowing wink.
Trish’s heart raced. As each minute passed, her heartbeat seemed to double, and her breathing seemed to become more and more difficult. The moment of truth was very nearly upon her.
No longer could she study, so Trish picked up a campus newspaper which someone had left on the coffee table, yet she could not force herself to even attempt to read it. At one point, she glanced down her front, and could just subtly see the front of her sweater pulsing ever so slightly from her intense heartbeat.
And then she heard footsteps descending the staircase behind her. She tried not to turn around and check if it was Trey, but ultimately did.
…and it was not him.
But perhaps three minutes later, Trey did finally descend the staircase, and with a knowing wink and smile at her, he left the dorm.
The time was at hand at last.
With visions of Gina bound naked to the bed and unable to see, Trish gathered her things into her backpack and headed upstairs. Each step seemed more difficult to take, for nearly four years of a close friendship could potentially be shattered.
At last, standing before the door to her own dorm room, Trish took a deep breath, released it slowly, and quietly opened the door.
Gina was sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing a red see-through camisole and a black thong. The lights were off and the blinds were closed; other than the light from the hallway, the only light in the room came from the candles upon each dresser. “Glad to see you, girlfriend,” she said softly, smiling with her lips and with her eyes.
Trish was dumbfounded.
“Close the door, Trish,” Gina said as she slipped from the bed and stood on the tile floor. “I’ll explain.”
Even after the door was closed, even after she had set the backpack beside her desk, even after she was in her roommate’s arms, Trish’s mind was still clouded by utter confusion.
“I’ve known for quite a while,” Gina finally admitted. “I’ve known you’re interested in me as more than just a best friend and a roommate. I’ve felt it in the way you’ve touched me as some lucky guy reams me good. I’ve seen it in your eyes as we sit and chat. I’ve sensed it emanating from you in the night as you gaze toward me. And I thought about all that and what it could mean, and I realized that even though we’ve shared ourselves with others, we’ve never shared ourselves with each other, and it made me realize that we’ve lost a lot of time looking for fulfillment elsewhere when fulfillment resided in this very dorm room. And the more I thought about that, about you, the more I realized that you have virtually every quality I’ve been looking for in someone to love, and I just wish I would’ve recognized it a lot sooner…”
As those soft words truly permeated her mind and filled her soul, Trish began to realize that, at last, what she had wanted for quite some time was finally coming true.
…minus the surprise.
“But… I don’t… Trey was…”
“Trey told me a few weeks ago about your plan,” Gina admitted. “It was just after I confessed to him that I was falling in love with you. We talked about it for several days and finally reasoned that, while your plan to surprise me had its merits, it would be best for me to give myself to you without bonds, without a blindfold, so that there was no question that my actions were truly genuine.
“Plus,” Gina added, “it gave me time to go buy what I’m wearing, just for you.”
It took a few heartbeats for Trish to realize that Gina was kissing her, but then the initial shock dissipated, allowing her to truly enjoy the moment, to revel in the acceptance and the love of her best friend and roommate.
…and now girlfriend.
Time passed both slowly and quickly as they truly undressed and explored each other for the very first time. This was not for the visual benefit of some lucky guy, as had often occurred in the previous few years - this was strictly for them. The touches and the kisses and the gentle bites were so much more meaningful, and the gasps and the cries they uttered were not for someone else’s benefit, but for their own.
When their initial coupling had finally come to two beautiful completions, as they cuddled lovingly upon Gina’s bed, Trish finally had to ask: “I have virtually every quality you’ve wanted in someone to love? What quality don’t I have that you’ve wanted?”
After a short quiet laugh, Gina looked directly into Trish’s eyes and smiled. “You don’t have a long hard cock, but with your skills given the toys we have and the way you just used them on me, you definitely don’t need one!”
The End
A Fugitive Grace
As she drew him inside of herself, first his tip, then a pause and a coy grin to tease him, and up to the mid-point before shifting her weight to take him in entirely, he understood the riddle she’d seduced him with, whose solution is expressed not in the chatter of an unquiet mind but in the direct act of submission to the will of a lover…
The other guests had already left and Justin had been unburdening himself to James and Meryl about his latest breakup. Sacha was there too since the party was at her place. It had only been a short fling, but something about it–he couldn’t tell just what–had felt more nearly right to him than any relationship he’d been in. Then she dropped him.
“She told me the strangest thing. She said, ‘I’m not who you think I am. You don’t know me because you don’t know yourself. I know what you want better than you do, and that’s why you think you like me.’ That was the last thing she ever said to me. I can’t see what she meant by that.” Justin thought he saw Sacha smirk when he said that, which stung a little.
James and Meryl were good friends and good shoulders to cry on. They had a lot of patience, and that night Justin had needed it. He was exquisitely sensitive.
He found Sacha harder to connect with. She was cagy, distant, and bright, but in an anti-intellectual way. Once she told Justin that she didn’t read books for fear of infecting her mind with other people’s thoughts. Her apartment was somewhat sparsely furnished, aside from her big music collection, and it conspicuously lacked a television. She did have a couple posters, but not pictures of anything, just abstract, geometric patterns.
But what Justin found most unsettling about Sacha was her intense way of looking you right in the eyes without speaking. He had found it intimidating when they first met, and sometimes he still did.
Sacha was closer to Meryl and some of the other girls in Justin’s set of mostly unmarried 20 and 30-somethings. He couldn’t imagine what they talked about. For his part he could never seem to start a serious conversation with her. To begin with, she was sort of cruel, but always in ways that suggested she wasn’t completely serious. She avoided talking about her thoughts or feelings. And she never seemed needy or self-conscious or soppy. He couldn’t imagine her keeping a diary.
And yet she could also be an oracle. Every now and then she would suddenly come out with a profound observation, made more striking because her voice was unusually deep and rich for a woman’s. Justin was always a little surprised by it, as though he had walked for a long time beside a tall, gray, stone, wall and then passed a narrow gate that momentarily revealed a vast, vivid garden just on the other side.
She’d been listening silently to Justin’s somewhat rambling recounting of the affair. Actually, he wasn’t entirely certain that she was listening at all. She was kind of staring distractedly as though a fascinating film was being projected onto the inside of her wide, brown eyes.
“You find what you’re ready for,” she said abruptly, and drained the last of the beer from her bottle. “Because when you’re ready, you figure out how to ask for it.” That ended the conversation, and thus the party.
James, Meryl and Justin walked together for a while, until James and Meryl reached their own apartment. They said their goodbyes and Justin shuffled off to catch a bus home. It was January, dark and bitter cold.
Three or four months passed and Justin didn’t even try to date anyone. His last relationship and how it ended had caused him to mistrust his judgment. He spent the winter just trying to recover his emotional balance.
From time to time Sacha’s remark would occur to him. And because the remark intrigued him, Sacha intrigued him too. He only saw her occasionally, maybe once or twice a month at parties, but she’d become a presence in his mind. Among other things, he’d begun to notice her beauty.
She was naturally athletic, with muscular shoulders, arms and thighs, but as far as he knew she didn’t play sports. At least, he didn’t imagine her playing sports because whenever he saw her she was arrayed in post-punk type outfits that seemed to suit her better than gym shorts.
He guessed that she’d inherited her father’s looks: She had short hair, dark, somewhat pronounced eyebrows, high cheek bones, a flat nose, large lips and a well-defined chin. She had a pert bottom and large breasts, but instead of dressing to show them off, she hid them, or rather, she seemed almost unaware of them. She had tattoos in places he only caught a glimpse of when she stretched.
But he couldn’t figure out how to approach her. They were so different from each other. And her sexuality was a mystery to him. She seemed to be by turns asexual and hypersexual because she never talked about sex except to make jokes, and she made sex jokes all the time. He wasn’t even sure of her orientation. She never mentioned a girl- or boyfriend, or anything like that. And he was too “polite” to simply ask her.
So he never phoned her or invited her out anywhere. Evidently he hadn’t “figured out how to ask for it” yet, and he supposed this impasse might go on indefinitely. He told himself it wasn’t that important to him anyway.
But spring changes things. On the first warm night of the year Justin felt like he could almost sense the sap moving in the trees, which is to say that something hidden was stirring inside of him as well. Beneath the deadwood of his heart his feelings were beginning to flow again.
That night when he got home from work, he opened a window and, restless, went straight to his PC. He sat in the fading twilight, and then the darkness, lit only by the screen and a small lamp, and, in a kind of springtime induced trance, began typing a letter that he had no intention of sending–or none that he could admit to himself.
But sometimes our desire guides us, with a secret inspiration, long before its true purpose manifests on the mind’s horizon. When that happens it’s either the devil disguised as an angel of light, or a fugitive grace reaching out to us covertly through the veil of the flesh. It’s the sort of thing that ruins marriages and destroys friendships, that takes lives–and sometimes saves them.
As he wrote to her his heart was heavy with a passionate tenderness–like mine as I write this story for you now.
This is what he wrote:
I have a fantasy about you.
Continue next page …….
It’s always the same. I’ve been invited to your apartment for one of your parties. I’m the first one to arrive; maybe I misunderstood the time. So I help you get everything ready.
And there’s a transgression. The details are always different, but I misbehave somehow. Maybe, on impulse, I try to kiss you in the kitchen, or maybe you merely catch me glancing furtively at your cleavage. Or you leave your bedroom door open and I accidentally see you changing for the party as I pass by, or perhaps I even stop in the doorway and stare, forgetting myself. You always notice and scold me for it. Sometimes you slap me.
All of that is just the back-story. The fantasy begins with me sitting abashed on your couch while you finish changing in your bedroom–with the door firmly shut. I’m wondering how awkward this is going to get, whether I’ve just ruined our friendship or whether you’ll forgive me, whether I should apologize or just pretend like nothing happened. It occurs to me to slip out quietly while I have the chance: I don’t deserve your hospitality.
You emerge from your room dressed in a skirt and blouse and long socks or stockings, with no shoes. Your top two buttons are undone. You aren’t wearing a bra. I look at your face, trying to see whether you’re still angry, but I can’t read you.
You sit on the couch with me, as far away as possible, and let me stew for a while. Suddenly you grin wickedly and say, “I caught you looking, didn’t I?” I blush, and begin to stammer an apology. But you lean towards me and hold your finger to my lips.
“Let’s play a game,” you say. “The object of the game is for you to touch me as much as you dare before the others get here. But I must remain fully clothed. The game ends when someone knocks on the door.”
So we play. I’m cautious at first, but I get more and more bold.
There are two endings. In the first, we hear a knock, just as I’m beginning to disregard the rules. “Poor you,” you say, and pull away from me. But then you look straight into my eyes and whisper, “Call me this week” before turning towards the door.
In the second you unbutton your blouse and slide your panties off from beneath your skirt. You pull me towards you and we kiss. “But, the others!” I murmur. You adopt the bearing of a teacher addressing a slow pupil: “There aren’t any others. There never were.” My other fantasies are about no one in particular, but this one is yours alone. It belongs to you somehow, and in its fevered moment, so do I.
Immediately after he wrote it, he emailed it to her. And immediately after that, he panicked. But it was too late. He cursed himself. Then he wrote her a nervous, apologetic note and sent that, then began another, but decided that he was only digging himself in deeper, so he stopped. He cursed himself again. There was nothing he could do. It was up to her now.
He didn’t hear from her that night, and he didn’t hear from her the next day. He kept frantically checking his email and voice mail messages from work. Later he remembered thinking that it would almost have been better if she had left him an angry message because at least then he would know where he stood. Not knowing was the worst part. But in the evening his phone rang and it was Sacha.
“Hey,” she said.
And Justin said, “Hey. How are you?”
Then there was a long pause.
“Do you want to come over tonight?” she said.
There was a second pause as he tried to think of something really clever to say.
Finally he said, “Yes.”
“Well why don’t you then?” she said. It sounded almost like a taunt. He couldn’t tell for sure.
An hour later Justin was headed towards Sacha’s apartment building, trying to work up the nerve to knock on her door. But she met him on the street outside, so he didn’t have to. She said she was coming back from the drug store. Neither of them had had time to dress up.
Sacha only lived on the third floor, but she insisted they take the elevator. As the elevator doors were closing, she placed her right hand on the back of his knee, slid it slowly and deliberately up his thigh and then goosed him, hard. Surprised, he turned his head, glared at her and opened his mouth as if to say, what are you doing? But instead he just gasped–with pleasure. She raised one eyebrow at him. When the doors opened she let go.
Once inside her apartment, he hesitated, wondering how to begin. She almost laughed at him. “Take off your shoes,” she said. They were still standing in the doorway when she suddenly kissed him hard and deep, forcing her tongue into his mouth. A warm shiver shot through his body and he clung to her to steady himself.
Then she kissed him again more slowly, still open-mouthed. He reached to caress her breasts but she wouldn’t let him. He tried to unbutton her blouse but she pushed his hands aside. She was teasing him. And teaching him–but what was the lesson? He felt his skin flush. He was frustrated now, and he wanted her more badly because of it.
She pulled his t-shirt off and reached for the top button of his jeans. Things were moving fast–too fast, he thought. When he demurred she ran her right hand up the inside of his thigh, then back up to the button. It didn’t her take long to persuade him.
She finished undressing him, then pushed him down onto the couch. She was still fully clothed. The apartment was well lit. He felt a bittersweet flush, part exhibitionistic pleasure, part embarrassment.
He reached for the top button of her jeans, but she pushed his hand away again. She said nothing and stared straight at him with her strange, penetrating look.
Then she unbuttoned her jeans herself, slowly, pausing between each button, as though performing a striptease, and slid them to the floor. She hooked her thumbs onto the center of the waistband of her briefs, and cupped her hands around her flower. She pulled the waistband downward until her middle fingers touched her lips, then pulled her hands apart and upward, tracing the seam of her briefs with her fingers until she was holding them by the hips.
She eased them down and let him get a good look. She was closely shaved and she had a rose tattooed on the left side of her waist. Those were her only concessions to femininity. Her thighs were strong, beautiful. Even now she kept her blouse on; He was still at a disadvantage.
She straddled him and when he was pinioned, leaned into him pushing his hardening shaft up and back against his belly, so that its soft underside was pressed against the crease of her mound. For a while she just rested there with her clit against his tip. If they had long been lovers it would have been a tender gesture. But they had arrived at this point so quickly that he felt a little violated, at once thrilled and uneasy. Now that they had gotten this far she seemed to relish keeping him in suspense.
After a little while she leaned back and ran her wet lips along the length of his shaft to moisten it, until, satisfied, she leaned forward again and began to make love to him with long strokes of her clit.
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All this time she held him with her eyes. He couldn’t fathom her expression. It was neither tender nor predatory, but rather, confident, playful and self-satisfied. Selfish, he thought. It wasn’t like dancing: I lead, you follow; and it wasn’t like playing a game: I move, you move, I move. It would have been like a struggle, except he’d already been completely routed and she was enjoying the spoils of battle.
She wouldn’t let him kiss her. Every time he tried she would pull back and smile coyly at him. He couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze and neither could he avoid it for long. He kept getting drawn back to those big brown eyes, and then, overwhelmed by their intensity, he’d feel bashful and look away again. But there was no escape. Exposed to her view, he was made to feel his nakedness.
When he sighed a little with pleasure she grinned and beamed at him with an unmistakable look of pride. Then he understood. She was selfish, but causing him pleasure was her aphrodisiac.
He began to express himself more freely, and found that she was increasingly responsive and attentive. The more he surrendered to the experience the more she came alive in his arms. She had an uncanny way of anticipating his reactions, which created the illusion that she could read his mind. It felt as if she had a direct apprehension of his thoughts and sensations, unmediated by words or signals. Soon she was reading only his involuntary symptoms, for he was overwhelmed beyond all expression. He could have sobbed.
But he didn’t climax. Or rather, he didn’t come. She was careful to massage the tender place at the base of his shaft, avoiding the head. In this way she kept him continually pursuing what she continually deferred. He remained rigid, engorged. But his shaft felt more relaxed by each new stroke, even as the rest of his body became more and more aroused, seemingly without limit. First it was like climbing a never-ending staircase, then, like falling into a bottomless well.
She was secretive about her own sensations. He saw now that what she had been struggling for was the ownership of their pleasure. She wanted all of it, hers exclusively to create, control and enjoy. And she got it, hording her own pleasure by concealing it and plundering his by forcing him to reveal it to her.
But gradually she began to stroke faster and her breathing became heavier. As she climaxed she succumbed to a few sharp cries.
Then she sighed deeply, unbuttoned and removed her blouse and bra, and at last she held him close to her and kissed him slowly. As she pressed her soft breasts close to his chest, he could feel her heart beating. This sudden display of tenderness was more affecting for having been so long denied. He needed it. He was mixed up inside. Later he remembered thinking “Other girls have made love to me, but this is the first time I’ve ever really been fucked.”
She moved him to her bed and lay beside him, and continued to kiss and caress him for he knew not how long. Every once in a while she would caress his thigh, cup him in her hand, or run a finger along his shaft. She wasn’t finished with him yet. Again she was keeping him in suspense, but casually, effortlessly, and with the same mixture of tenderness and control. She was also letting herself rest. She knew he would wait until she was ready.
When she was she reached down beside the bed, found a box of condoms in the bag from the drug store and removed one from the box. She slid her left arm like a pillow under his head, drew her face close to his, held the condom where they could see it and used both hands to open it. She slipped it out and pulled it over the length of his shaft with her free hand.
She kissed him once, a short, quick, sassy kiss, like a wink, then got up, seized his shoulders, and straddled him again. This time she pulled him inside of her and began slowly thrusting.
She studied his face carefully, watching for signs of over-excitement. She wasn’t going to let him come without her permission.
“Look at me,” she said. “Look right at me. Look in my eyes.”
He did, with difficulty. And when he did he thought he’d never seen such a beautiful face.
“Do you want me?”
He nodded.
“Tell me you want me.”
“I want you.”
She rewarded him with a few hard thrusts.
“Tell me you need me.”
“I need you.”
“Tell me you belong to me.”
“I’m yours.”
“Say it again.”
“I’m yours. I belong to you.”
“Don’t look away. Look at me. Tell me you’d do anything for me.”
“I would. I’d do anything for you.”
“Would you?”
“Anything.”
“Tell me you’re my bitch.”
He hesitated.
“Say it!”
“I’m–I’m your bitch.”
“Again! Look at me, bitch!”
His shame intensified his arousal, and the knowledge that he was being aroused through degradation intensified his shame which heightened his arousal yet again–and so on like a hall of mirrors. In such imperfect ways flesh and blood creatures grasp the infinite.
“Now kiss me.” She still had him by the shoulders and she made him really struggle to reach her. When they finally kissed he was crazed with desire. She saw that he couldn’t stand it anymore, rode him harder and let him come. It was a tremendous release.
He was shattered. He almost thanked her, but caught himself at the last moment, and instead, wrapped his arms around her and held her tenderly. She didn’t return the gesture, but neither did she turn away. She accepted his embrace the way a champion accepts a medal: as a matter of course. He didn’t know it then, but he would never see her again.
He fell asleep with her in his arms and dreamed that he was at a street protest where anarchists disguised as police were savagely beating police provocateurs disguised as anarchists. Something was unsettled inside of him, like he could no longer distinguish between his heart’s cops and robbers and wasn’t sure anymore which side he was on.
In the morning before he left she pressed a sealed envelope into his hand with instructions not to open it until he got home. It contained the address of an organization called the Center for Sex Positive Culture. He turned over the note in his hands a few times before deciding he might try it.
The End
Last long long story for today , will keep all the readers busy till tomorrow when I’m back for more stories . Thanks and Enjoy !!!
Swap For a Period
Chapter 1
Paul and Judy Summers are a very happily married couple, living in a four-bedroom, two-storey home in an upper middle class suburb. Paul is 36 and his wife is 34; they have only one child, a 7-year-old daughter, Lindsay who is the pride and joy of their life. Paul and Judy have been married for nine years and they both enjoy a reasonably uninhibited sex life. They manage to fit their sexual activity in frequently since their daughter’s bedroom is at the far end of the upstairs hall, three rooms away from the master bedroom.
Paul has a senior marketing position in a multi-national food company. Four times a year, his role requires him to travel interstate on business, each time for a two-week period so that by the time he gets back, both he and Judy are eager to make up for their lost time together in bed. Each of them had several partners with whom they were sexually active before their marriage, but even after nine years, neither have contemplated having an affair outside of their marriage.
Judy’s closest friend is Nicole, they have known each other since their first day of school and there isn’t much that the two haven’t shared in their 29-year friendship. Two years after Paul and Judy married, Nicole went down the aisle with her chosen partner, a golf pro named Arnold. Their relationship was nowhere near as smooth as Paul and Judy’s, so it was not really a surprise when Arnold left Nicole for a shapely 20 year old model just last month. It had been a tempestuous seven-year marriage, but Arnold had obviously got the seven-year itch.
Nicole was devastated … as stormy as their marriage had been at times, she had never expected it would get to this stage. She had tended to turn a blind eye to his philandering ways. Judy reached out to her friend and with Paul away on one of his two-week sales jaunts, inviting Nicole to come and stay with her. “To keep me company in the big house,” she had told Nicole. “Lindsay goes to bed early and it’s so quiet. Besides, I don’t like to drink alone.”
Nicole gladly accepted her best friend’s invitation and moved into one of the two spare bedrooms on the Monday of the second week that Paul was away. Judy sat in a chair watching her friend Nicole unpack for her five-day stay. “Nicky, I don’t want to be rude but you can only stay until Friday. Paul and I have a ritual when he comes home from one of these two-week trips away … we are both climbing the walls by then so we send Lindsay over to my mothers and Paul and I screw like rabbits all night long.”
“All night, gee I didn’t know that Paul was that good.”
“I tell you Nicky, when he’s been away that long, he really can go at it all night. He’s amazing!”
“Jude, that’s okay, I’ll get out of your way on Friday afternoon … I’m just grateful to you for getting me out of that house … every room I go into, there’s a memory of Arnie and I doing it there. He was such an impetuous man, he was always up for it.”
“Ummm!” said Judy thoughtfully.
“Nicole turned to look at her friend. “What does that mean?”
“Oh nothing … I was just thinking of all the stories you’ve told me over the years of how horny Arnold is … or was.”
“Honey, the bastard’s not dead, you can say is. It’s just that he’s screwing that blonde bimbo now, I hope the prick’s happy with what he’s got … probably the clap by now.”
“Ooh, you are bitter!”
“Well, wouldn’t you be? Oh hell, Jude, don’t answer that … Paul would never leave you. A fucking perfect couple, just made for each other.”
“Gosh Nicky, I certainly hope he wouldn’t leave me. But I think we are good for each other, we keep each other content … sexually I mean.”
“Well, that’s good, Jude. I thought that I did too, but he just wanted more variety, I guess … and a younger version.”
Judy could see tears form in her friend’s eyes. “Come on, try to forget about him for now, we’ve got a whole week ahead. We’ll go shopping, have a few drinks, whatever. Get on with that unpacking and we’ll go down to the Mall.”
Nicole ran the back of her hand across her eyes to wipe away the tears and resumed rummaging in her suitcase. She placed blouses and underwear in a cupboard drawer, then hung up skirts and slacks. Then she took out two items only vaguely familiar to Judy and placed them on the bedside table.
“What are those?” shrieked Judy. “Are they what I think they are?”
“Well, if you’re thinking that they’re my Mister Happy one and two, then you’d be right.”
“Is that a vibrator?”
“Now don’t tell me you haven’t seen one of those?”
“No, no … I have seen them, it’s just that I don’t have one. I’m surprised to see you with them.”
“Well, Arnie’s been gone a month now, I have to have something to get me off close to the way he used to. A vibrator will never take the place of his nice dick, but I can come by using them and that’s a relief.”
“What about the other thing?” asked Judy, reaching over to pick up the rather large sized penis-shaped dildo. “It looks so life-like, just like a real cock, for God’s sake … and it’s black! Is there some significance in that for you?”
“Yes, I wanted a big one after Arnie left … at least bigger than his … and black is sort of associated with size, isn’t it? A woman can dream, can’t she?”
Judy laughed and placed the large black dildo back on the bedside table. “Nicky, you have become a wicked lady! Just don’t moan too loud when you’re using them, my daughter’s room is two doors away from you.”
* * * * * * * * * * *
Judy and Nicole quickly settled into a pattern, going shopping at the Mall each morning, lunch out, then home for Lindsay’s return from school. The two ladies would enjoy pre-dinner drinks from four, wine with dinner and a nightcap after dinner and before bed. Judy surprised herself, she had never consumed so much alcohol so consistently every day, but she knew that Nicole was using it medicinally to help her through the break-up.
It was late on Wednesday night when the two women were somewhat boozed and Nicole started to reflect some more about how much she would miss her errant husband.
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“Jude, I know he’s a dickhead for what he’s done to me … you know, leaving me for a bimbo. And I know that he was screwing every woman in sight, but shit, he was good in bed. Even good in the kitchen and the dining room … and out by the pool.” Nicole laughed at her memories of the places that she and Arnold had used for hot and heavy sex. “Shit Jude, you must have been the only woman who didn’t get a piece of him.”
“No, I did too!” Judy tried to gulp the words back in, but in her inebriated state, she had just answered her best friend with the first thing that came into her head … she had been way too truthful for the fragile Nicole.
“What … what did you say?” Nicole’s mouth fell open and she sat upright in the chair in which she had been lounging. “When, for God’s sake?”
Judy paused, uncertain how much truth Nicole could handle right now. “I’m sorry … it was only once, Nicky … and it was years ago.”
“But you never told me … I thought that we shared everything. Well no, not everything, we didn’t share husbands … I’ve always stayed clear of Paul, out of respect for you. But now you’re saying that you’ve had Arnold.”
Judy knew Nicole must be upset when she called her ex-husband by his full name Arnold, and not Arnie. “Nicky, it was all so quick … and I never encouraged him. He just took advantage of me, and I was too pissed to stop him.”
“Oh, so he virtually raped you then?” said Nicole sarcastically … wanting her best friend to hear her displeasure.
“No, I wouldn’t call it rape … I came!”
“Whether you come or not doesn’t determine whether it was rape. The way I’m feeling now about hearing this, years after it happened, is that it better had been rape. Otherwise, I’ll be real pissed off with you.”
“I can understand you would be, that’s why I couldn’t bring myself to tell you at the time. It’s been hard to keep something like that from you all these years … and to keep it from Paul too.”
“So suddenly now, just when I’m hurting from Arnie’s departure, you decide to tell me that you’re just like all those other women that crossed Arnie’s path … that you’ve had a good sample of his dick.”
“I am so sorry, Nicky … you know that I would never want to hurt you. Goodness me, we go back so many years…”
“Nearly thirty, Jude.”
“That’s what I mean, we’ve shared a lot of experiences, even the same boy once … remember that guy in college who had us both, one after the other on the same night … I can’t even recall his name. God, he was a bit of a stud, wasn’t he?”
Nicole laughed at the recollection and Judy was relieved that her friend’s anger was abating. “Alright, now you’ve told me that it happened, you better tell me the rest … like how it happened … and where.”
“Nicky, are you sure you want to hear this … when you’re feeling the way you are?”
“Yes, it will just help me to realise what a jerk he was … that he would have my best friend behind my back. So where did it happen?”
“Here, in this house … and you were here that night too.”
“What … get out of here! What was I doing while he was giving you one? Certainly not having your Paul, although it sounds like maybe I should have been.”
“Nicky, it was a dinner party, I doubt if you’ll remember the exact one, because we’ve had so many here over the years. There were five couples here that night, I guess with that many, Arnold thought that we wouldn’t be noticed if we were missing for a few minutes.”
“So it sounds like he conspired with you before you two did the deed?”
“Oh no way! He took me completely by surprise. It happened about ten that night and Paul had prepared a special dessert, so he disappeared into the kitchen to make up ten servings. Because everybody had been sitting formally at the dining table since about 7.30, then the remaining nine of us had broken up into small groups to chat … the smokers were outside having a puff.”
“Where was I?”
“I honestly don’t remember. Don’t forget, I didn’t know what was coming, so I wasn’t taking much notice of where everybody was … but Arnold obviously did. So anyway, I went off to have a pee, but the downstairs bathroom was occupied. I really was busting, squeezing my thighs to hold it in while we had the main course, so I wasn’t about to be put off by a closed bathroom door. I scurried upstairs to use the toilet in the en suite bathroom off my bedroom.”
“Had Arnie made any approaches to you … you know, sexually … before this night.”
“No, not at all, nothing ever in private. Just the usual banter that the four of us had over the years, you know, sort of sexual innuendo whenever all four of us were together. Please Nicky, don’t interrupt me, this is hard to tell you, so just let me get it out.”
“Okay, sorry!”
“So as I said, I scooted up the stairs, heading for the little bathroom off my bedroom. I wasn’t conscious of anybody following me and I didn’t really think they would. You know, the entertaining area of this house is all downstairs, so guests really had no reason to go upstairs. So because of that and because of my hurry to pee, I didn’t close any doors behind me. For God’s sake, I was in such a rush that I had my skirt up to my waist and was tugging my panties down before I even got through the bedroom door.”
“Did you make it?”
“Yes, only just, I splashed the seat as I sat down. Shush, I told you not to interrupt.”
“Yes ma’m.”
“So I’m peeing a steady stream, so noisy in the bowl when it was otherwise so quiet upstairs away from the party. Anyway, I was looking down at the floor and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a movement. It startled me because I was so certain that I would be alone that I didn’t close any doors behind me. I slowly looked up and saw the shoes and the trousers first, so I knew it was a man. My first thought was that it was Paul, but then that was unlikely because I had left him busy serving up his dessert to everybody. When my eyes reached waist level, I saw that whoever it was had a good-sized stiff one in their pants. I didn’t want to look up quickly, I was so nervous that a man at the party would be standing in the doorway watching me pee. Eventually, my eyes locked on to the man … and it was your husband.”
“So he hadn’t said anything … he was just watching you pee? What a pervert! Still, it shouldn’t surprise me, he would chase after anything in a skirt, whatever they were doing.”
“Yes, well … whatever I was doing might have been the key. He hadn’t spoken until now, but then he said to me ‘You know, many men find watching a woman squatting over the toilet with her panties around her knees, filling the bowl with piss, an extremely erotic sight.’ Nicky, it was so strange, I should have been fired up with anger and ordered him out of the room … but I was amazingly calm. It was probably the alcohol, I’d had a bit … but I was so calm that I said to him ‘The fact that you are standing there watching me with a hard-on in your pants indicates to me that you would be one of the men in that category.’ He just laughed and said ‘You’re right about that!’”
“Good grief, the audacity of Arnie, I know he’s done some pretty crass things and he’s chatted up an awful lot of women, but I can’t believe that he would think he could get away with that with you.”
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“Nicky, I am ashamed to admit that he did get away with it. I should have been all fired up and ordered him out of the bathroom straight away. You know what, I think it was a try-on … if I had reacted that way, he would probably have said ‘Don’t tell Nicky’ and then disappeared back downstairs. But I had consumed a fair bit of wine that evening … I remember sitting on the toilet – or squatting as he inferred we women do – and wishing that my pee would hurry up and finish. I felt vulnerable sitting there like that and I wanted to get my panties back up and my dress back down, so my private parts were covered … I figured that would leave us both clothed and I could reason my way out of it from there.”
“I am intrigued, I’ve never ever had any of the women that he used some of his lines on, actually tell me about it. While I am deeply hurt that this happened ages ago and you never told me about it, I’m also fascinated. Keep going!”
“Well, I was scared how you would react.”
“You’re right, if he and I were still together, I would be pretty upset at you. But since he’s gone, it now becomes just a reason why I am better off without him. Go on, tell me more.”
“Well, at last, I ran out of pee, thank God. I tore off some paper and gave myself a quick wipe and Arnold said to me ‘I could have done that for you … with my fingers.’ Now I was starting to get angry, I dropped the scrunched up paper in the bowl, flushed the toilet and reached down to pull up my panties. But Arnold stepped forward really quickly and put his foot between my legs. His foot landed in the crotch of my panties and he forced them down to my ankles. They literally just snapped out of my hands. I screamed at him, ‘For Christ sake, what are you doing, Arnie? This is not funny anymore!’ He put his arms around me before I could react and pulled me up against him, really tight so that I could feel his hard-on against my belly. Then he said to me ‘It wasn’t meant to be funny, Judy … I’ve wanted you for so long … ever since I first met Nicole. I’ve waited and waited for a chance … when I saw you come up here, I knew that we could be alone. I’ve got to have you now!’ God Nicky, he sounded so desperate … then he said ‘No one will look for us for ten minutes, we can be done by then.’ I told him ‘You’ve got to be crazy!’ But Nicky, he wasn’t … he put his fingers under my chin and lifted my face and kissed me. I have to say he was a fabulous kisser … if there was a divining moment that caused me to surrender to him, it was probably when he stuck his tongue in my mouth and just let me have it.”
“Yes, kissing was always one of Arnie’s good points … I think that’s what attracted me to him. But are you about to tell me that you were that easy to get?”
“I have told myself over the years since that it was the alcohol … that if I hadn’t had so much wine, I would have turned him down in a flash. But I didn’t and I’ve regretted it ever since. Oh Nicky, I didn’t regret the sex with Arnie because it was good sex – quick but good! No … just that he was your husband and it’s been eating away at me for years … I felt so disloyal to you.”
“And so you should!” said Nicole, but with a smile and she leaned forward and patted Judy on the arm. “Goodness Jude, you’re only human and he was a handsome guy and very persuasive when he wanted to get a woman into bed. I wonder how many women he’s had … must be hundreds.”
“But he shouldn’t have had me … not that easily.”
“Jude, don’t beat up on yourself … just tell me how good my ex-husband was to you, so I can miss him a little bit more.”
“Well Nicky, I’m telling you that after that kiss, I don’t think there was any turning back despite how ridiculous the situation was … I mean we were in the middle of a dinner party. When he pulled back from kissing me, those blue eyes of his were looking into mine, penetrating they were. I felt his hands lifting my dress back up until it was bunched around my waist, then with one hand at my waist on each side, he lifted me up and balanced me on the vanity unit. Nicky, my bare arse was touching the cold porcelain of the rim of the sink and my legs were dangling above the floor. Arnie reached down and grasped those panties of mine and ripped them straight off my ankles. My thighs were spread and I felt his fingers touching me between them … I think that kiss had aroused my little man in the boat and his fingers pounced on that and started giving it a workout.”
“Yes, he was certainly a clitoris man … he really knew how to find all the good bits without too much trouble.”
“It was a while ago now, but you know, I can recall everything like it was yesterday … everything he said and everything he did. I seem to recall that his fingers on my clit and his lips on my neck had the juices flowing in no time. He pulled my body forward so that my bum was just barely resting on the vanity and then I felt his damn cock nudging into me. God, I don’t even remember him getting it out of his pants … just suddenly it was there … and I was wet … and he was pushing it in. Nicky, I was wanton, I just lifted my legs and wrapped them around his arse.”
“So you enjoyed it … I have to concede, he was good at making love.”
“Making love Nicky! Jesus, this wasn’t making love … he was just out and out screwing me. But shit, I loved it! It’s not like I needed it, I’ve told you often that Paul and I have a good relationship and we keep each other very content. This was just a cheap fuck, more for Arnie’s satisfaction than anything else … but incredibly it still felt good.”
“How long did it go? You two obviously got away with it because I don’t remember any incident at one of your dinner parties where the two of you were noticeably missing.”
“How long? I don’t know, perhaps five minutes, it couldn’t have been any longer. Time’s a funny thing … it may have been only three. All I know is that I couldn’t believe it when I felt my body responding to his driving thrusts. It was crazy, I kept telling myself this is not happening to me. I am not up in my bathroom being solidly screwed by my best friend’s husband while my guests look after themselves downstairs. I always tried to be the perfect hostess, but I’m up here about to come. And for goodness sake, I did … heavenly. It was a damn good one … an absolute bell-ringer … Arnie told me I was noisy, but then Paul has always said that too. Apparently, when I am coming, I let everybody know about it.”
“A real screamer … actually I do remember the sound of you coming from all those years ago with that boy in college that we both had one after the other … you know, the one you mentioned before. I think that’s the only time that you and I have been in the same room while we were doing it with guys.”
“Yes … so anyway, I came and then only a few strokes more … hell, by that time I wasn’t counting … Arnie came too. When I felt his hot cum shooting inside me, I recall being worried that he hadn’t used any protection, but it all turned out okay. So we stayed there for about another minute … I know it wasn’t long. I think it was just long enough for Arnie to empty all of his cum into me, he didn’t want to leave dripping. So he pulled it out, turned around and wiped his cock on Paul’s towel, gave me a quick peck on the cheek along with a few words telling me how great it had been … and he was gone. I stood there, leaning against the vanity unit, my feet back on the floor, but my legs were still shaking from just having come … I knew I couldn’t walk back downstairs like that. My dress was still up around my waist, my panties lay discarded on the floor and his cum was leaking out of me and starting to dribble down my thighs.”
“That’s why nobody noticed that the two of you were missing, Arnie came back ahead of you?”
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