bro alwong,
your chinese stories very nice..
i hv no problem reading it but hv problem with hanyupinyin else will reply in chinese.
keep it coming…thanks !
Quote:
Originally Posted by
alwong
Bros Birdie, another contribution from me…
美好的性生活
That’s all. The End.
很 好 很 好 !!! 我 看 了 都 想 要
Thanks bro !!!
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Cum_Luver
bro alwong,
your chinese stories very nice..
i hv no problem reading it but hv problem with hanyupinyin else will reply in chinese.
keep it coming…thanks !
Hehehehe…C_L kor kor also like this story hor .
Quote:
Originally Posted by
birdie8819
很 好 很 好 !!! 我 看 了 都 想 要
Thanks bro !!!
Hehehehe…C_L kor kor also like this story hor .
Bros, you are all welcome lah…will share more…keep them cumming….
She finally sighed and relaxed again, and he slipped his tongue out, once again just gently licking up and down her wetness. He watched her face as her eyes fluttered open and he hungrily observed the flush that started somewhere around her tits and had spread upwards. He could tell that she was tired, but he wasn’t done yet. She wanted to come her brains out, and he was just the man for the job.
She couldn’t even frame a coherent thought by this point. All she could do is twist and writhe on the bed… a slave her passions, and his talents. Her whole body was on fire, and she was torn between wanting to stop, or just keep orgasming over and over and over again. She had felt like she couldn’t get enough today, but maybe she had reached her limit.
She felt a sharp pain on her inner thigh and looked down at him, still between her trembling legs. He had nipped her sharply and now was laving the spot with his tongue. She was mesmerized by that tongue, thinking of all the wonderful things it had done to her so far today.
As they stared into each other’s psyche’s, his finger began to slowly slip inside her wet passage. Without losing eye contact, they both moaned at the feeling. He was excited by the incredible heat and wetness that was her cunt, and she was equally thrilled by the roughness and hardness of his finger as it slowly penetrated her.
He once again bent his head, closed his eyes and began his circling of her clit with his agile tongue. As he did so, he added another finger to his questing inside her body and slowly began searching for that spot.
She didn’t know which sensation to pay attention to more. His mouth felt so good, just lazily caressing her little pearl of responsive flesh. But his fingers felt incredible as they slowly scraped along her sensitive walls, spreading themselves and her along with them. Finally, he turned them just the right way, and she unexpectedly screamed at the feeling.
He knew he had found her g spot when she suddenly tensed and he felt her entire body jerk. The little rough spot inside was sometimes hard to find, but when he found it, he loved the way women went absolutely insane with desire. And this one… well, she was practically crazed with lust anyway, so he was dying to see how high he could push her. By the second little touch of her g spot, he felt her pussy clench tightly and then spasm around his fingers. Her little sexy moans had erupted into full fledged screams, and he could hear the hoarseness of her voice from all the noises she had been making till now.
As she felt him flicking his fingers over that spot inside her time and time again, she didn’t stop climaxing for long minutes. She didn’t think it was possible to come that hard, that long, but every time she started to come down, he did something else to send her back over the edge. Little variations… like pulling her g spot between his fingers and rubbing it that way. Like once again sucking her clit into his mouth and pulling on with his teeth. Using his free hand to reach up and pull on her aroused nipple. Blowing cool air across her overheated cunt. It all combined to send her higher. She could feel herself losing control, and she knew she was squirting her juices into his mouth. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, she was like a firehose.
It was when he added the third finger and then took her clit between his teeth and rolled it back and forth while he fucked in and out of her, rubbing her g spot every time… well, THAT was what made her hit her highest peak.
The sensations in her pussy were too much. She felt her entire cuntal area melting. Clit, lips, inner passage, even her little brown rosebud clenched before she totally lost control, banging her head against the headboard and clamping her thighs around his head and hand. She actually thought that she would never be right again because she really felt like she was on fire between her legs. There were orgasms, and then there were ORGASMS! This was the most mind-blowing climax of her life. As her entire body pulsated with sensation, she began to pull away from him.
He couldn’t believe how hard this chick was coming. He was proud of his oral skills, but he had never seen a woman who came so hard, so much, and THIS was almost too much. He slurped away, drinking down the secretions that she was squirting each time his fingers slid inside her. He desperately held on; her pussy was snapping so hard at his fingers, he couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like to have that around his achingly hard cock. His mouth was pressed hard into her vulva, and he wouldn’t let that tiny piece of flesh out of his teeth until he knew that she was totally, 100% satisfied. Her hands grabbed his head, at first pushing him harder into her swampy wetness, but then he felt her begin to try to pull him away.
She couldn’t take it anymore. She knew she couldn’t. It just felt TOO good. Was that even possible? But if she didn’t get away from his incredibly maddening hands and mouth, she was worried about what might happen. And then, she peaked again, and she thought nothing at all as she fainted dead away from the intense pleasure of it all.
He looked up at her as he felt her body shake with yet another climax, but he felt something different this time. Her eyes were shut, and she was panting like a bitch in heat, but her hands had fallen to her sides. He pulled his hand out of her snapping cunt and his mouth away from her pulsing clit and he reached up and pulled on a nipple. No response. His breath drew in quickly and as she moaned, he realized what had happened. His aching cock exploded without even being touched and he sprayed her with his forceful spurts of semen as his brain registered. She had blacked out from the sensations he had given her. He was able to bring her to that ultimate peak of satisfaction so that her body had to shut itself down before it overloaded.
He panted himself as he recovered from his own climax, and he was relieved to see her begin to shake her head back and forth as she moaned. When her eyelids fluttered open and she saw him, they both smiled the smile of the satisfied.
He went into the adjoining bathroom, wet a cloth with warm water and then gently cleaned himself off, rinsed the cloth and returned to the room to clean her up. He slowly smoothed the wet fabric over the gobs of white sticky sperm that clung to her skin, and then gently cleaned between her legs. Her pussy was a bright red, almost angry looking pussy, and she moaned softly as he touched her.
After rinsing the cloth again, and setting it out to dry, he returned to the bedroom. He climbed back onto the big bed, snuggled next her still naked and relaxed body and softly suckled at her nipple in a way that he knew made her feel comfortable. She cupped his head and looked down at him.
“Thank God its Friday, eh babe?” he looked up at her.
She smiled at him tiredly. “Indeed. I am sated. For now,” she replied and she wickedly grinned at him as she slowly drifted off to sleep.
The End !!!
Good The Night And Sweet Dreams !!!
“Conventional Sex”
Only then did it occur to me that I shouldn’t have been able to see Eddie at all. The mystery of his visibility in the darkness was quickly solved when I heard steps moving closer and Sister Margaret’s unmistakable voice beseeching a variety of saints to do very uncharitable things to this vile Satanic spawn she had captured, and on like that. She was almost screeching and I could hear doors opening all around me and nuns whispering back and forth. Looking back, it seems odd that they bothered whispering given that Sister Margaret was raising the devil at the top of her lungs, but I guess it was force of habit.
At the time, I was just worried about being discovered. I was safe for the moment; a quick glance assured me the small bed in the room was empty, and with just a chest of drawers and a straight-backed wooden chair as the only other furniture, it wasn’t like there was any place someone could be hiding. Nor, I realized, was there anyplace I could hide if anyone looked inside. The bright angle of light from the hallway was enough to tell that.
Outside, several nuns were shushing Sister Margaret and jabbering at Eddie at the same time. Give him his due, the kid was a trooper; he didn’t squeal.
Before long all the talking resolved itself into a decision to call Eddie’s folks, and the pastor, and the cops. Awful as all that sounded, I had a feeling Eddie would rather take his lumps from any of those three than face the wrath of Sister Margaret.
As the group moved away, I had time to look around the room some more. It was kind of like how I’d figured it: bare walls, no decoration but a crucifix on one wall. Not even a mirror. There was a single bookshelf on the wall above the bed, about half-full. I couldn’t make out the titles; the light through the curtains on the one window was too dim and the light from the door stopped short. But that window seemed to grow brighter as I stared at it and realized it might be my only way out. I was about to head for it when I heard a creak right next to my ear and saw the room’s door begin to open.
I flattened against the wall and considered my options. I didn’t have any. The only thing going for me was that I was on the hinge side of the door; if someone just opened it and looked inside I’d be out of sight. I thought I’d won that small grace when the door stopped halfway.
“Sister Juliet!” Sister Margaret’s voice sounded so close I thought she was in the room with me. “How many times must you be told you must wear your full habit at all times when outside your room?”
“Yes, sister,” my homeroom teacher said, and though her voice was soft I realized she was even closer. “But I was just washing up…”
“No excuses before God, sister! What if that despicable devil who invaded our sanctuary had seen you!”
“What devil? What was that commotion I heard?”
Sister Margaret explained, at length and including some involved words that I don’t think get used much anymore outside of exorcisms. She rounded out the story and was working her way back to Sister Juliet’s clothes while sweat trickled down my neck. I was glancing around the room, looking for any kind of hiding place, when I noticed the bare light bulb in the middle of the ceiling. I could just make out the fuzzy outline of the faint shadow it cast. I decided that if the light went on I would make an immediate dash for the window.
The chances of my getting there, getting the window open and climbing out before anyone got to me were slim, but maybe I would get lucky; maybe the window was already open. Weren’t those drapes moving ever so slightly? I figured that with two giant steps and a leap I could clear the sill, if the blinds didn’t tangle me up. OK, I’d have to yank them aside. And then, well, wasn’t there a small porch on the back of the convent? How far a drop could it be?
“Conventional Sex”
Brave plans. But outside the door, the talking had stopped and the door was beginning to open. I didn’t wait for the light to go on. My instincts kicked in.
I crawled around the dresser to my left and huddled in the corner. What can I say? My instincts had kept me safe so far.
If Sister Juliet had flipped on the light, I’m sure I would have screamed. Maybe it’s a nun thing, but she left the light out. I went through a long line of saints, promising each one months of prayer and good works, if only I could somehow, some way, get out of this. Meanwhile Sister Juliet closed the door behind her and I swear she looked right at me. Only the time it took her eyes to adjust from the hallway light to the darkened room may have saved me.
I was concentrating on breathing as slowly and quietly as I could, but my mind was telling me there was something odd about the nun. I couldn’t figure it out; she looked, as far as I could see in the faint light, the same as usual, same habit, same – that was it. The same habit, same veil, the works. What was that breach of propriety Sister Margaret was yapping about? Just then the light in the hallway snapped off, and in the split second that it did my eyes went to the floor and I saw the awful omission that could have, as Sister Margaret said, put Eddie into an occasion of sin if he had seen it: Sister Juliet was barefoot. I felt as if she and I were allies now, against Sister Margaret.
Not that I considered for a second pointing that out, or saying or doing anything else to draw attention to myself. I stayed huddled in my corner.
Sister Juliet had moved to the far side of the room and seemed to be doing something underneath her habit; all I could see was some vague motion. Then some white cloth appeared in her hand and she placed it on the chair beside her.
In the years since I have done a bit of reading on the subject, and if you cared I could explain in great detail the name, placement and purpose of every piece of cloth that appeared in the next few minutes. Suffice it to say that nuns in those days were more heavily armored than football players. In fact, with the way the starch made the shoulders of the tunic stick out and the way the rope cinched around their waists drew in the cloth, nuns back then looked a lot tougher than linemen. A lot has changed for both sides since then.
I had a vague inkling that what I was seeing was much more like a real occasion of sin than Eddie’s potential sighting of naked toes. A certain feeling in my groin added to my certainty. Maybe for some boys the thought of a naked nun is a turn-on, but up until then I had only thought of wool and beads as a uniform and nuns as, well, nuns. Now I realized all that cloth was just clothing and nuns were real people – real women – and they were naked underneath. Even if I got out of this alive, I knew, the last few days of class would never be the same.
Sister Juliet walked over to the bed now, just a few feet from me. But she didn’t look in my direction; she just picked up a pile of white cloth that unfolded into what looked like a long nightgown as she shook it loose. She still looked the same on the outside, with the habit and veil, but I knew there was actual honestto -goodness skin underneath.
Only it didn’t look like I was going to see anyway, because Sister slipped the nightgown on over her habit. This was getting just plain weird. Since that time, I’ve read that nuns were taught these overly prim dressing methods as part of their training. In fact, Sister Juliet’s routine was a bit more liberal than some I’ve read about. I gather the idea was that even the sight of her own body was too tempting for a nun to see, which makes you wonder just how they went to the bathroom. Well, don’t. It’s every bit as silly as you’d think.
Silly is also the word that came to mind that night as Sister Juliet seemed to struggle with her habit under the nightgown. I’m not sure, but she might even have sworn under her breath once or twice when her arm got tangled up. Finally, with a sigh, she lifted the gown off and tossed it onto the chair. Arms free again, she undid some knots and began to lift the bulky black habit over her head.
“Conventional Sex”
It was not lost on me as the hem of the habit rose higher that I was seeing a nun’s legs, and that soon I could be seeing a lot more. But my survival instinct finally turned from hide to hie, and I hied right over the bed heading for the window.
Did I mention that puberty had left me a bit, well, ungainly? Do you know what would happen if an ungainly 13-year-old tried to leap over a small bed in one bound? In the dark? With a now large and definitely rigid penis to distract him?
It wasn’t pretty.
The fall came in slow motion, or at least slow enough for me to wrap my arms around my head before I tumbled onto the corner of the bed and then rolled onto the floor.
Sister Juliet got a bit tangled up in her habit, but she was loose by the time I got back on my feet. She looked right at me, but neither of us had a chance to speak before there was a knock on the door. It was Sister Margaret, demanding to know what was going on. I stood stock still. Sister Juliet looked at me and slowly turned to the door. “Nothing, Sister Margaret,” she whispered. “I just stumbled.”
With a crack about stumbling from the path, Sister Margaret went away, grumbling. Sister Juliet put a finger to her lips and held it there for a minute.
“She’s gone now,” the young nun said. “You’re safe, for now.”
Lives there a boy who could carry on an intelligent conversation with a naked nun? And a very beautiful naked nun, at that. Sister Juliet’s skin seemed almost to glow, it was so pale. The light from the window, filtered by the drapes and blinds, caressed her like moon-glow. She stood about 5-4, I’d guess, several inches shorter than me, but her legs seemed longer than mine, or maybe it was the way the light hit her hip.
She was slim, which I would’ve guessed, although with the sack habits you could never be sure. Turned toward me, what lay between her legs was in shadow, but the light caught the side of one breast, one perfect, round breast. She wore nothing but her veil, black cloth that covered her hair and hung down just between her shoulder blades; the starched white piece that ran across her forehead let some hair escape, as usual.
Maybe it was because nuns aren’t used to being nude, but Sister Juliet didn’t try to cover herself at all. Her hands were on her hips, the same way she faced us in class on those afternoon when we’d been a little rowdy and needed settling down.
I was fully clothed, except for my shoes, which I still clung to, but I felt the urge to cover myself. It could have been my boner or it could have been a reaction to Sister’s nudity; I don’t know.
Whatever, Sister Juliet didn’t seem to notice. When I didn’t respond to her question, she went on whispering, telling me that Sister Margaret was on the alert so I probably couldn’t get out the back way. Did I have a suggestion? My classroom self kicked in and I raised my hand; she smiled and nodded for me to speak.
The window, I hissed. The drop, she warned. The porch, I explained.
She pulled back the drapes and carefully raised the blinds. I was standing next to her now, and when her bare arm brushed mine I thought I’d swoon. She didn’t seem to notice, but went right on raising the blinds and then slipped the latches on the window. It occurred to me that her room was almost as well secured as her body had been by all those layers. I was just glad summer hadn’t arrived yet and the screens weren’t up.
“Conventional Sex”
We had to pull together to get the window to budge, and then we both stopped at the same second when it broke free and started to fly up. It was lucky we did, for that’s just when the dogs barked.
I slipped to the left of the window; Sister jumped to the right. We both slipped our heads around the sill and looked down.
The pastor kept two Dobermans, animals so lean you could see every muscle rippling beneath the skin. They were what we used to scare the first-graders with: If you don’t say everything right in Confession, Father’ll know and he’ll throw you to the dogs. Now these two land sharks were right below us. We could hear the pastor, old Father Joe, talking to someone – probably Sister Margaret, who was rapidly becoming my personal avenging angel. “I’ll keep the dogs out for at least a few hours, Sister,” he said. “The boys could use a little exercise. Don’t you worry, no one’s going to try to get into the convent with them around.”
Or try to get out, either, I decided.
Sister must have agreed, because she motioned to me and we silently slid the window closed; she ran down the blinds and pulled the drapes back into place.
We sat down on the edge of her bed. My mind was into complete overload: bed, nun, nude. On the other hand: dogs, Sister Margaret, my parents. Should I have been paying more attention to the class about the Last Rites? Could there possibly be a more extreme unction, whatever an unction was, than the situation I was in?
It was a reasonably warm night, but I was now shivering full-bore and my teeth were even chattering. Sister put her arm around me and hugged me to her, whispering for me to calm down. Calm down? Sister Juliet’s left breast was now smack dab against the side of my right arm. I looked down and I could see both breasts, and even – no, that couldn’t be – yes, a dark triangle in her lap that I recognized from the Playboy I’d seen once over the shoulder of one of the cooler kids before the gang had elbowed me out of the way.
Sex education being what it was back then, I had come to the conclusion that the fur must be what the guys called a pussy. Seemed logical at the time. I had a notion that there must be something else to it, because they talked about “putting it inside her,” and the hairy patch had seemed too short to go inside of, but then the guys weren’t very strong on grammar so who knew? There were a lot of mysteries to their language. To this day I don’t know exactly what they meant when they said they had “made out,” even though I’m betting I’ve done it myself a few times.
The point is, I could now see as much of Sister Juliet as I had ever seen of any woman, and that had been just on paper. This was flesh. Warm flesh, I noted, as her breast rode against my arm. Soft, warm flesh.
Somewhere along the line as we had tried the window my cock had deflated – I’d guess it was when the dogs showed up – but now it was rising again, bending painfully against my briefs and jeans. I swear the original Levi must have been a eunuch; those things always seem to get smaller the bigger you get, and that zipper is surely the nastiest, sharpest, roughest thing anyone but a masochist would ever put near his cock.
In short, I had stopped shivering but was now cringing in pain as Sister quietly went over the situation like it was a classroom lesson. The window was out; the dogs were a cinch for at least a couple of hours, and we both knew there was no way a klutz like me could outrun them even if I had a full block lead. The doors were out; if Sister Margaret didn’t get me I’d still have the dogs. I suggested the basement window and hiding in the garden, figuring there was no point in keeping our entry a secret now.
Sister Juliet briefly considered the possibility of staging a diversion that would keep Sister Margaret occupied while I slipped away. But we both agreed that there was no real cover in the garden, and if the dogs caught a whiff of me I’d be a goner. My only chance, Sister Juliet said, was to wait until around 5 a.m. By then Fr. Joe would surely have called it quits, and that’s when Sister Margaret was due to be relieved by old Sister Ardethine. She was half-blind and totally deaf, so I should have no problem sneaking out the back way when she was guarding the front. It would still be dark enough for me to get away; I assured Sister I could stay out of trouble until it was a reasonable hour for me to go back home.
“Conventional Sex”
That meant a wait of just about six hours, but I wasn’t going to quibble at the delay. I was so relieved to have a solution that didn’t involve my being ripped into pieces by slavering Dobermans that I slipped my hand around Sister’s back and gave her a big hug.
A real big hug. Before I knew what I was doing, my arms were wrapped around Sister Juliet’s naked torso, her breasts crushed against my chest. I felt the starchy cloth of her headpiece against my cheek. It was a wonderful moment.
Which, naturally, I ruined by becoming overbalanced and tipping us both over onto our backs. We rolled toward each other and Sister Juliet’s smooth face was just an inch or so from mine as I stared directly into her eyes. I could feel her breath.
I could also feel a pain in my right arm, trapped at an odd angle beneath her. I said something suave, like “Ow,” and she lifted herself up slightly so I could pull free. On the way out my hand slid along her breast. My thumb made contact with her nipple, which was now stiff. I would like to say that my strong religious upbringing caused me to remove my hand at once and say a few Acts of Contrition, but actually I - - well, I squeezed. It was my first breast, and I wasn’t going to let it go so easily.
What was going through Sister’s head then I cannot know, but I suspect that’s when she finally realized she was naked in bed with an eighth grade boy. I further suspect that they never covered this eventuality in nun school, because she didn’t do a thing. Her eyes opened wide and she moaned a little, which I’m not vain enough to think was a tribute to my skillful manipulation of her tit, but she didn’t pull away.
My hormones decided that the absence of a “no” was as good as a “yes,” and my left hand swung over and placed itself gently on Sister Juliet’s other breast. I now had two handfuls of firm but yielding nun flesh and if I thought my cock was in agony before, that was nothing compared with the pain as the engorged tool strained against my constricting jeans. No pain, no gain, I thought, as I continued to massage Sister’s breasts, rubbing my thumbs over the nipples. “We shouldn’t,” she whispered, but she still wasn’t moving, and she was looking me right in the eye.
Her pale lips were parted slightly. In the dim light her face looked like one of the angels in the Madonna shrine, all smooth graceful curves. I leaned forward and kissed her lightly.
There are patron saints for all sorts of things, but I’m pretty sure there is no saint whose job is to watch over oversexed teenagers putting the moves on nuns. If that’s true, I don’t know how to explain my actions that night, because I went into Sister Juliet’s room a social misfit who had no sexual experience and little knowledge. But somehow I managed to avoid doing anything really stupid that would have broken the moment. Maybe it was because I was so scared; maybe some remnant of the respect I’d been trained to have for nuns was translating my raging hormones into gentle caresses. Or maybe even a nun can get hot enough to ignore her lover’s fumbling.
Whatever the reason, there was no interruption and my light kiss turned into another and another and got longer and longer. My hands moved up and down Sister Juliet’s silken body, sliding around the delicious curves of her legs and over the incredibly lush mounds of her ass. About the time we discovered tonguekissing, Sister slid one long, lithe leg over mine and I silently shot a load into my briefs.
I had done the deed before, of course, mostly to erotic fantasies about one or another of the Gabor sisters. So sue me; I like accents. The point is, I knew that what I had was called an orgasm – it’s amazing what you can learn from a collegiate dictionary – but I wasn’t entirely sure whether coming in my jeans met the strict definition of “having sex.” I knew that doing it by yourself didn’t, but after all, there was a woman in the room.
END OF SECTION THREE
Will post section four tomorow
Chilling Blues
As I woke my body shook. I crawled out of bed heading toward the bathroom. I fumbled around inside the numerous cabinets finally finding my prize. I place the thermometer into my mouth under my tongue and waited. I was not surprised to learn that I indeed had a fever. My body shook as another chill laced up my chest. I quickly returned to my bed. I had several major reports that were due at the office today. I groaned with disbelief. I seldom got sick and I never got sick on important days like today. But here I was, laid up in bed. I curled up in a ball and groaned with mental and physical agony. Oh what was I going to do. I reached over to the phone and called my office. My chirpy secretary answered and I explained my dilemma. I told her to contact my partner and have her come to my house. I must have closed my eyes and drifted to sleep, because I do not remember hearing a knock nor a door opening. My partner of 10 years was sitting on my bed looking down at me. She had a big smile on her face, as she brushed the sweaty strands of hair from my face.
She had been successful at postponing our big meeting until next week. That gave her one week to get me better. Her private doctor stood to the side of my bed and took my vitals. He confirmed what I already knew, I was indeed sick. He prescribed pills, fluids and rest for the next several days. Tina insisted on staying. She shrugged out of her suit jacket and came to my side. She would nurse me back to health come hell or high water. The days that followed moved in a blew. I remember snap shots of Tina giving me a sponge bath or feeding me some soup.
I remember how gentle and tender she touched me. The remainder of the memories were a blur. On the 5th day of my road to recovery, I finally felt strong enough to get out of bed. I went out on my patio finding Tina sipping a cup of tea. I didn’t realize that my nightgown clung to my sweaty body showing off all of my curves. I eyed my swimming pool with an intense desire. I quickly removed the translucent material and slipped into the cool welcoming water. I swam several laps before stopping. Tina had joined me in the pool. She had stripped out of her casual attire to her skin. She swam across to me and old longings began to stir. Prior to opening the business, Tina and I were lovers. We decided for the good of our business, to stop our affair and become strictly business partners. It was a decision I had regretted every time I laid eyes on her.