Helen is my piano teacher. I still have a hunger to learn new things and as music was an important part of my life, I had decided on a whim to take up piano. Helen was recommended by a friend and I have been having weekly lessons for about six months. It was fun and I was actually making fairly good progress considering I could only practice on a cheap keyboard, bought second hand from a friend of mine.

Helen was approaching middle age, but she was an active woman, often telling me at great length about her various activities. She certainly liked to talk, and often I would still be at her house a half hour after my lesson had ended, listening patiently to her stories fresh from the golf course or squash courts. She wasn’t slim but curvy in the right places, not a beautiful woman, but there was something about her that I found enticing. Maybe it was the ever-present twinkle in her eye, or maybe it was due to her being a playful and cheeky sort, always happy and smiling and often making slightly bawdy jokes, usually at my expense. She was also the tactile type, lightly touching my arm or leg as we sat next to each other on her piano stool. I reciprocated as often as I dared and she didn’t seem to mind. This all served to heighten the enjoyment of my lessons considerably, and they almost became a centre point for my week. I especially looked forward to playing duets which would involve us having to cross hands, and in our proximity this would invariably lead to our hands and arms brushing together, or even better the side of her breast would jiggle against my arm, warm and soft.

For this lesson, Helen had decided we would play duets for the duration. I found duets quite hard to play as I always seemed to miss my entry points, or misread the dynamics. This would be good practice for me. I struggled through the piece Helen had chosen, following her lead as best I could, and eventually the last repeat came and we ended; I was in time, too!

“That was nice!” she enthused. She was as bubbly as ever, with a beaming smile on her face and that alluring twinkle in her eye as strong as ever. She was wearing a loose, knee-length pink skirt that seemed to magically flow around her as she walked, and a light blouse that was unbuttoned a little lower than usual, allowing me to see the beginnings of her ample cleavage. “You need to work on your left hand a bit more, get a bit more stamina, and pay attention to the dynamics!” She tapped the music in front of me.

“Yes Miss!” I joked, returning her smile. “At least there’s no-one around to hear how badly I played!” Helen always made me play part of a piece in front of the pupil that came after me; I really didn’t like playing in front of anyone.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Anyway, you’re my only pupil tonight and my husband is away ’til the weekend. Again!” She paused and briefly looked me in the eye. “So. Nothing to worry about.”

Whenever she mentioned her husband, she always seemed mildly annoyed or put-out; I had met her husband only twice, but he seemed to me like an affable man. Tonight, she seemed a little more miffed than usual. There was an awkward silence. I guessed that Helen could probably talk for a long while about her husband, so I braced myself for a long, one-sided conversation. Although, the skirt she was wearing, which seemed to be very thin, would ease the situation for me, I thought. And then, there’s the cleavage, even though I’m not a breast-man. I chuckled to myself and tried to stop my eyes from wandering.

“Do you want a drink? Orange or apple juice?” she asked, smile returning.

“Yes please. Apple if that’s ok?”


She walked off to the kitchen and I noted her skirt was indeed very thin. It had gathered up in between her buttocks as she had got up from the piano stool, and I could just make out that she was wearing white knickers underneath. She turned around flashing me a self-conscious smile in response to my gaze, which I quickly averted. She readjusted her skirt and then she was out of sight in to the kitchen. I put my hand down on the stool where she had been sitting. Her bottom had warmed the seat nicely, and I kept my hand pressed against it as I listened to Helen pottering around in the kitchen.

She breezed back in with two glasses full of apple juice, sat down next to me and reached across, left breast brushing lightly against my arm, putting my glass on the piano lid next to a huge pile of music stacked precariously on the edge.

“That’s going to fall down soon!” I said, taking my glass off the piano lid and sipping the cool apple juice.

“Yes. Maybe I should take it all upstairs and put it with the rest. I’m so untidy!” she chuckled. With a flurry she got up and took hold of the stack of music. I offered my help, but she said she was fine; the archetypal independent woman. I watched her as she walked to the bottom of the floating staircase, admiring the site of her knicker-clad bottom through the thin skirt, which once again had gathered between her cheeks. She started to climb the stairs and seemed to be doing admirably until half way up when she dropped the whole pile, some of the music cascading down the stairs behind her but most falling to her side and slipping off on to the floor below.

“Bugger! Arses! Bugger!” she exclaimed. Helen crouched down quickly, her skirt fanning up. She made a valiant effort to stop the rest from falling, but she gave up with a dramatic flap of her arms and a few more expletives. I dashed over to help.

“Can you pass me the ones on the floor please?” she asked, pointing down towards my feet. She repositioned herself, moving one foot to the lower step behind her as she remained crouched. I bent down and picked up a handful of the musical debris. I straightened up, handing it to her, and nearly blurted out my own set of expletives; I could see up Helen’s skirt, her knees wide apart as she crouched down. She was concentrating on the sheaf of music I had just handed to her, patting it down to straighten it all out. I let my gaze linger on her rounded mound, cupped tightly by her knickers, wispy hairs struggling to get out either side of her stretched gusset. I was transfixed, mesmerised by the view of her crotch only a few feet away from my face. I felt my cock hardening rapidly as I stared. My gaze traced a line up the smooth light skin of her inner thighs, up to the edges of her gusset, the skin darkening and swelling under the beginnings of her bush. An inch or so more, under the gusset; I could only imagine how sweet and sexy her pussy lips would look.

“Oi, excuse me!” Helen blurted. I snapped out of my reverie and looked up with a start to see Helen looking directly at me with owlish eyes. “Can you pass some more up, if you’re not too busy gawping up there?” There was a smirk on her reddened face, but despite this she didn’t look at all pleased. She had caught me staring up her skirt.

In silence and with a face that had turned deep red, I passed more handfuls up to her whilst trying to keep my eyes from her crotch, which was still plainly in view as she hadn’t moved to try and cover up her modesty. After clearing the rest of the music, Helen took it all upstairs. I returned to the piano stool, took a deep gulp of apple juice and waited, wondering if she would ask me to leave, calling me a pervert before ejecting me from her house, slamming the front door behind me. I heard floor boards creaking as she moved about upstairs. She returned a few minutes later, down the stairs with, thankfully, a smile back on her face. I tried to relax as she came to sit next to me, doing my best to make my tumescence subside.

“That’s that sorted!” she said. “Anyway, where were we?”

Helen continued to talk about her husband whilst my face gradually returned to its normal colour. I was thankful that she seemed to have quickly forgotten about my peeking earlier. I eventually regained my composure and started to listen to her monologue properly, trying to keep up and take it all in, offering comments when she paused to take a breath. He did seem to be away a lot due to work and she suspected he was playing away from home, but she couldn’t be sure. Sometimes, I couldn’t be sure if Helen was being serious or not. Should she have been smiling whilst talking about her husband in this way? She joked about finding someone to ‘have some fun with’, maybe a younger man. She giggled.

“Ooo, so you like younger men!” I joked.

“Every woman lusts after a younger man every once in a while!” She said feigning disbelief. “Imagine all that vigorous love-making!”

My face flushed red again, and on seeing my reaction she chuckled apologetically and leant against me playfully. She made no attempt to pull away. The feeling of her shoulder against mine was making my heart beat faster. I was never sure whether Helen’s playfulness and tactile approach to our piano lessons was innocent, or whether she was giving me a sign of some sort. Maybe she acted this way with everyone. I had always been awful at reading signs from women. In my mind, I replayed as best I could all the times she had been overtly tactile, trying to remember how she had reacted when I had returned her touches. I recalled the comments she made that had made me blush, and on several occasions given me a rock hard member. Helen pulled away from me, sitting upright, and I snapped back to the present. I looked her in the eye.

“I suppose most men lust after an older woman at some point.” I tested the water. For a while we were both silent. She looked at me again, smiled shyly and rested her head on my shoulder. My heart rate stepped up a gear. Tentatively, I rested my head against hers.

“So, have you ever lusted after an older woman?” she asked quietly. I couldn’t see her face to read any expressions and her voice was neutral. I wasn’t sure how honest I should be.

“Yes, I have. I mean, I do…..” I stammered.

There was more awkward silence. Slowly I moved my right arm around and lightly put it around her shoulder. I waited, expecting her to shrug it off. Instead she took hold of my other hand and squeezed it. Helen lifted her head to look at me, our faces close enough for me to hear her soft breathing. A thousand years passed as I looked in her eyes, flicking between one and then the other; I could feel a twitch in my groin.

“Your heart’s beating nineteen to the dozen!” she said, almost whispering. So was hers, I realised; I could almost hear it. Slowly I moved closer, still worrying about misread signals. She made no attempt to move away and suddenly our moist lips touched and we kissed lightly, both nervous and uncertain. The faint smell of her perfume drifted across my senses, and we started to kiss with more urgency, our lips parting and tongues flicking as our barriers broke down. Her tongue was so warm and soft, and every time mine touched hers, it felt like a jolt of electricity was sent pulsing down to my groin. It was as if we had been building up to this point since the start of our lessons.

She gently pulled away from our kiss and getting up, she grasped my hand pulling me off the stool and towards the sofa. We sat down as close as possible to each other. Helen kicked off her slippers and pulled her feet up, her knees resting across my lap as our lips came together again, more vigorously this time as our inhibitions were reduced to nothing. Helen placed her hand on my cheek and I put my hand on her thigh, firm beneath her skirt. Whilst our tongues flicked and explored, I moved my hand up and down her thigh, gradually pushing her skirt up higher and higher. She lifted a knee which shifted her skirt up higher still and I reached around with my hand to gently squeeze her soft buttock. We moaned as we kissed and our breathing became heavier until we had to gasp for air. I placed my hand on her soft inner thigh, boldly moving it higher and higher until my fingers touched her fleshy mound enclosed in her tight cotton knickers. She moaned and moved her hand down to my crotch, fumbling until she found my zip. Once undone, she grasped my engorged manhood through my boxers and began squeezing and rubbing. She started to slowly move her hips against my fingers as they stroked her pussy through her panties, my lips and tongue tingling from our enthusiastic kissing. We both came up for air, resting our heads together whilst breathlessly we squeezed and stroked each other.

“I want you to fuck me.” she breathed, almost as if the ‘F’ word was alien to her. For a moment, I just stared at her. A few minutes ago I was worried she may kick me out of her house due to my gawping up her skirt. Now, she wanted us to make love. This was all happening very fast. Maybe older women couldn’t be bothered with all the preliminaries that younger women so desired, I thought; strange things cross one’s mind in the heat of sudden passion.

I slid off the sofa on to my knees and with my hands on Helen’s legs, gently coaxed her to sit straight and slide herself down a little so that her bottom was on the edge. I moved across to position myself between Helen’s legs. I pushed her skirt up and over her panties as we looked each other in the eyes. She knew what I wanted to do.

“Oh, do you want me freshen up?” She asked breathlessly. She gave a nervous giggle.

I shook my head. Definitely not! “No, it’ll be fine.”

“Oooo, naughty boy! Go on then.” She breathed seductively.

Helen moved her bottom forward a little more and parted her legs, revealing a small wet patch on the crotch of her panties. I leant down and started to kiss her warm inner thighs, not quite believing that I was doing this to my piano teacher. I looked up to see her unbuttoning her blouse, her eyes closed, until I could see her breasts straining against the bra she was now unhooking from the front. Then her breasts were bare and free, her nipples large, stiff and brown. She put her arms behind her head, keeping her eyes closed. Her sumptuous boobs spilled down either side of her. I continued to kiss up her inner thighs until my nose was pressed against her warm gusset. She whispered encouragement as I rubbed her with my nose, the heavy aroma of her pussy strong even through the material of her panties. I pressed harder and started to use my tongue. Helen let out a soft sigh and pulled her knees up to her chest, and as I pulled away to steal a quick glance, I could see her panties hugging the cleft between her buttocks. I put a finger on her pantied crotch and rubbed up and down, allowing my finger to wander down and brush the seat of her knickers covering her asshole. Briefly, I felt the pucker of her anus through the thin material.

“Oooo!” she whispered, softly giggling. I moved my head back down and allowed myself a long quiet sniff, moving my face side to side allowing the light coloured hairs peeping round the edges of her gusset to brush against my lips.

I moved my hands to her hips and hooked my fingers under the elastic of her knickers, feeling the warmth of the soft skin around her waist. Slowly, I pulled off her knickers, over her knees and feet, and threw them on the floor. With her knees to her chest, her slick and sparsely bushed pussy looked sumptuous, her large clam-shell pussy lips lusty red and wet with juice, her pearly clitoris pushing out from beneath its soft, pink hood. Below that, peeping from between her ass cheeks, was one of the finest ass holes I had ever been lucky enough to see. It was dark brown and her cleft was perfectly hairless. I moved closer to her puffy mound and lightly tongued her little pearl, looking up at her as she jerked and giggled softly every time I flicked at it. Without the cotton shield of her panties her scent was even heavier.

“You smell gorgeous.” I said in between sniffs.

“That’s ok then!” she moaned, keeping her eyes closed. I alternately licked her clit and sniffed her pussy, moving lower down to try and get a sniff of her bum hole, hopefully without her noticing. Her anal aroma was strong, though I really wanted to get my nose between her cheeks to properly sample her scent. I plunged my tongue deep inside her hot pussy, her tangy, salty juices biting my tongue and covering my face, whilst the funnel of her ample and thick labia seemed to suck me in further. As my chin came into contact with her asshole, Helen half giggled, half moaned. I then concentrated on her clit, flicking it with my tongue whilst inserting two fingers deep inside her tube. My fingers quickly became coated in her copious juices as I moved them back and forth, feeling her soft, smooth walls clenching and relaxing in time to my rhythm. Helen groaned and let her feet come down to the floor.

“Sorry. I can’t keep my knees up that long!” She quickly turned herself around so she was kneeling in front of me on the floor, elbows resting on the sofa. She slipped her bra and blouse off and pushed her bum up in to the air.

“Fuck me.” She purred. She looked at me over her shoulder and wiggled her bum, a wanton look on her face and the ever-present twinkle in her eyes, stronger now than ever before.

I moved myself behind her, deftly removed my trousers and underwear, put my hands on her hips and slowly pushed my cock against her swollen wet pussy, my glans easily pushing into her between her ample labia.

“Yes!” She reached back and pulled her cheeks apart.

I pushed the rest of my modest length inside Helen, both of us gasping. Her tunnel was very well lubed and I quickly got up to a steady speed, watching the ripples in her ass cheeks as I moved against her. I ran my hands from her hips, over her crumpled skirt and up to her shoulders and back again making her twitch against me. Looking down I could see her asshole, stretched as she pulled her cheeks apart. For minutes I stared at her anus and longed to be closer to it, to study it, and while my cock became shiny slick with her pussy juices, I imagined my rod buried deep in her brown hole. I grasped her full hips harder as the scent of her ass wafted up to me, and moved against her harder and faster, her soft moans beating in time to my thrusts. I groaned, announcing my arrival, the strong smell of her bottom pushing me over the edge. I came very suddenly, releasing waves of cum in her tube as she clenched her muscles around my shaft.

“Oh yes, phew….!!” She exclaimed.

“Oh, sorry…” I moaned. “Why did I have to be so quick!”

“Oooh, that was fine, believe me!” she moaned. I remained pressed hard against her, wanting to stay connected with her for as long as possible.

She giggled as I let my soft member, slick with her thick juices, slip out of her pussy. I slumped back but kept my hands on her bum cheeks, kneading them gently. Helen was still breathing heavily and she made no move to change position, resting her head on the sofa. I lowered my head and started to gently kiss her bum cheeks whilst using my thumb to slowly rub her clit. She let out a long satisfied sigh and pushed her ass further in the air. I was varying the position of my kisses, trying to place them close to her bum crack. Her smell was so strong and I could just see her asshole peeping from between her cheeks. With my free hand I gently pushed her left buttock to one side, hoping she wouldn’t mind. Helen let out another long contended sigh, so I pushed more, stretching her cleft further apart. To my surprise, Helen then reached back with her right hand and pulled her other cheek.

Her asshole was now clearly visible in fine detail and inches from my nose. I stared at it, teasing myself by holding my breath, delaying the real pleasure that was hopefully to come. I could see tiny white specks dotted around her brown hole and walls of her cleft, left over from when she last wiped, I guessed. I couldn’t hold off any longer. I put my nose between her cheeks and sniffed, savouring the dirty, heavy fragrance of her ass. Helen let out a small surprised gasp, and for a second she seemed to stiffen, pulling herself forward and away from me. But she relaxed again with a soft moan and pushed her ass back towards me. I started kissing her cheeks again, this time moving my kisses closer and closer to her crack until I was kissing the warm inner walls of her ass cleft. She bucked her hips slightly, moaned again and whispered ‘Yes’. To my delight, I was starting to stiffen again as I boldly kissed her dirty asshole, letting the slickness of her cleft cover my face. I kissed her ring vigorously, covering my nose with her beautifully heavy odour. Then I started to use my tongue, lovingly lapping at her slippery anus and savouring its tangy taste. I closed my eyes and let my tongue map out all the creases and folds of her wonderful bum hole.

(All characters are older than 18 years of age.)

“Who is next, Miss Pulliam?”

“Annie Cooper, Doctor. Acne, mild but persistent, new patient.”

“Thank you. Please have her come in.”

Miss Pulliam went to the door of the waiting room and called, “Miss Cooper? The doctor will see you now.”

A young girl put down a magazine and rose, and came forward.

“Room 4, please, right here. Have a seat on the table and Dr. Rodgers will be right with you.” Miss Pulliam slipped away then to handle some paperwork. She didn’t really have any training for this job, but she was perfect. She’d been a troubled girl, almost unhireable because of certain mistakes of poor judgment at a couple of previous positions. But Dr. Rodgers had seen the value she offered, and gave her a break, and in turn, she was willing to expand the usual definition of the job a little, and do whatever was needed around the office.

Stephen Rodgers had been practicing dermatology for 17 years now, but he looked younger than he was, in great shape, with dark hair cut in a young style. He had many teenaged patients, and he found that he could exploit his youthful looks to put them a little more at ease. Especially when he explained that, not so long ago, he had suffered from multiple daily blemishes, but with a little uncomplicated treatment, he had been able diminish them more and more, until he before he knew it, he had outgrown it. When he told the teens this, they took hope and were willing to tolerate a little discomfort, knowing it would be worth it.

Rodgers knocked on the door of Room 4 then entered. Sitting at one end of the examination table in the room was a teenaged girl. Despite a few mild blemishes, her face was lovely, shaped perfectly by a delicate jawline. Her eyes were large and dark, with long lashes. Her left ear had three piercings, revealed by long hair that was tucked behind it. She smiled nervously. Her arms were crossed over her stomach, her legs pressed together. He needed to put her at ease.

“So, Miss Cooper. You’d like us to look at your acne today. We’ll have to look hard; yours is a very mild case. I’ll bet that when you smile, the brilliance prevents people from seeing it at all.” At this, she did allow a little half-smile to emerge. He softly grasped her chin and gently moved it from side to side, as he gave her cheeks a cursory examination. “So you’ve probably just graduated from high school, eh? What’s next for you?”

“I’m going to Piedmont State on a tennis scholarship.”

“Well, congratulations! That’s great.” And it explained a few things, like her fitness and lithe shape, her toned arms and her spectacular legs, left fully in view by her short shorts.

“Yeah, thanks, I’m pretty excited. I’m hoping to make some of this acne go away before team photos are taken in August. It’s never been really terrible like my friend Mikayla’s, but it won’t go down or go away, no matter what I do. I’ve done most of the stuff you can buy in the store, and had most of the usual treatments. My mom thought maybe we should try a new doctor.”

“Well, we’ll do our very best for you here, I promise.” He stroked her cheek with two fingers, to feel the contours of the skin. In clinical tones he said, “We do have a treatment here that most practices don’t really know about yet. It’s easy and safe, painless, and affordable, and it’s often worth a try, especially for stubborn cases. If it doesn’t work for you, nothing’s lost but a little time.”

“Hmmm. Like, what do you do?”

“It’s a natural salve. The body produces a cleansing and healthy fluid that is designed to help things flow, and when applied to the face it can help loosen the clogged pores. Because it’s something we naturally produce, there are no negative side effects.”

“Hmmm. Like, I don’t know. It sounds OK. I don’t know what my Mom would think.”

“We can go out to the waiting room and ask her.”

“She’s not here. She says acne is no big deal, and that I need to start handling these kinds of things for myself, ’cause I’ll be on my own soon. So she went shopping. I’ve kinda gotta decide what to do myself.”

“I see. Well, it’s up to you then, but like I say, there’s nothing to lose by trying it.”

“I guess.” She didn’t seem confident in her ability to think this through.

“Miss Pulliam, could you come in please?” he called out to the assistant.”

The young woman appeared at the door. “Yes, doctor?”

“Miss Cooper is a little unsure about our proprietary treatment.”

Miss Pulliam turned to the girl on the table. “Oh, let me assure you, you’ll be totally pleased with the results. It’s quite painless, and it’s so easy. We’ve had a lot of girls…people try it, and they’ve all been happy.”

“Well, OK I guess.”

“Tell, you what, I’d need to take a sample to see whether it could work in your case. Why don’t we do that, and you can keep thinking about how far you want to go with it.”

“OK sure,” Annie said. Painless, they said, so what the hell. She’d like to be able to say to her Mom, “See, I handled it. Don’t worry about me.”

The doctor turned away from her and opened a drawer, and pulled out some latex gloves. “Take your shorts and underwear off, please, Miss Cooper,” he said, in his most clinically professional voice. Pulling just one glove on, he turned back to her, and saw her still sitting, hesitating, with the nervous expression once again. Kindly, he added, “I know it sounds a little unusual, but remember, I’m a doctor, and Miss Pulliam is right here.” His tone was patient and reassuring.

Shyly, she unbuttoned her shorts, and wiggled as she pulled them forward, to clear her butt. Slowly pushing them further down her thighs, she got them to her knees, and then folded her legs up against her chest to get the shorts off her legs without dropping them. Now in just her panties, she tucked the shorts close by her. Perched on the edge of the examination table, she sat with her legs again pressed together. The fleeting moment of seeing the backs of those tennis thighs and the crotch of the girl’s panties had stopped the doctor’s breath for a moment, but he knew he must remain fully professional.

“Miss Cooper…Annie…I’m afraid you’ll have to remove the underwear too. The sample we need, the fluid that makes up the treatment – it comes from your vagina.”

The girl seemed a bit shocked, but underneath that, the doctor could see that she had guessed this a while ago. She just needed to work up to accepting the idea.

“Miss Pulliam will be right here the whole time.” Annie still hadn’t budged. “The treatment will require that your underwear be removed, just for a few minutes. You can remove them, or Miss Pulliam can do it, or I can do it.”

She seemed to come to a decision, and with no further delay, Annie began to take off her panties. Slowly, with her legs together, she pushed them down her tanned, tennis-player legs. Just a hint of fur was visible, nestled in between the tops of her thighs.

The doctor thought he might get dizzy and fall down. Something was spinning inside him, and he thought that watching this cute young girl push her panties down those gorgeous legs might make it spin off its axis and knock him out

“O…OK, good girl. Now we need to take the sample, but naturally you’ll be too dry to begin with. We can’t use lubricant, because it will contaminate the natural fluid that we want. So, I know this is kind of a sensitive topic, but this is how the process goes. You’ll have to stimulate the area, to get the flow started.”

She blushed, and hung her head to hide it, allowing her long hair to fall forward. She made no move to comply.

“You can do it, or Miss Pulliam can do it, or I can do it. Usually patients prefer to do it themselves, but we can do whatever you are most comfortable with. I know this seems unorthodox.” Still no movement, just more blushing. Legs tightly shut.

“Tell you what, Annie. Just lay yourself back here like this.” He took her shoulders in his hands and gently reclined her down towards a horizontal position on the table. Her lovely face came back into view, reddish, lip trembling a little. “Just lay back, close your eyes, forget we’re here, think about your boyfriend, or a movie star or rock star you think is really sexy. There was a time when you felt totally comfortable with a guy, and you wanted to show him what you were feeling. Maybe you are remembering that moment right now. You can recall how that felt, can’t you, how secure and loved you felt, and recalling that makes it easier to feel it now.” The doctor had read a book on hypnotism; he was no expert, but he was good enough to relax innocent young girls.

Annie closed her eyes, and after a few moments, began to relax a little. Her hands, which had been nervously grasping at the table edges, now rested on her stomach. After another few moments, she exhaled a big breath, eyes still closed, and her hands began to rub her tummy, and up to the undersides of her breasts, pushing her shirt up to the bottom edge of her bra in the process.

“Good. Good. All relaxed now. Your guy is with you, and he is gentle, and he loves you so much. He is going to show you, show you how much he loves you. You can feel him touch you.” Annie’s right hand slipped down to her groin, and her thighs parted ever so slightly. “He will touch you exactly how you like it best.”

Eyes still closed, Annie parted her legs a little more, and moved her hand down to her pussy, still held close between incredible thighs. The hand rested there, not doing anything helpful.

“You don’t know how you like it? You’re not sure? OK, let me take your hand, and let’s try a little movement like this.” The doctor gently grasped the hesitating hand, laid his index finger atop hers, and began very gently to stroke her pussy lips with it, gently, gently. A stroke, a stroke, then a gentle press inward, then a stroke.

While he was doing this, Miss Pulliam bent down and pulled back a curtain that was hiding a space underneath the examination table, and quietly knelt within it. Pulling the curtain closed about her except for just a little space, she reached out and parted the front of the doctor’s gown, and began pulling at his belt. In moments she had his pants down, without making a sound.

Under the doctor’s practiced guidance, under their shared rubbing of her pussy, the girl began to respond a little, to spread her legs just a bit, her eyes still closed, but now her mouth just a bit open. Her finger, under soft pressure from the doctor’s hand, began to sink into the moist cleft a little more on every stroke. Soon there was enough moisture to slide easily, and to slip a fingertip inside. The doctor curled his index finger, and Annie’s finger went with it, just knuckle-deep. The doctor’s scientific mind observed that the necessary fluid was starting to flow, and felt warmly slippery around their fingers.

And now the girl’s eyes were not just closed but a bit lidded, and her mouth was wider open, her breaths were coming a bit harder and faster, her legs spread much wider. The doctor’s other, ungloved hand went unnoticed as it began caressing and lightly squeezing her inner thigh.

And now the assistant reached out and squeezed the doctor’s cock through his boxers.

“OK, you’re doing really well,” the doctor said. “I think I can get my sample now. Let me just make sure we have a really good flow…” Above the usual clinical smell in the examination room he could smell that tell-tale aroma, stronger and stronger.

With the doctor’s slacks already pooled around his feet, down came the boxers, and then Miss P. had his rigid member in her hands, and began to stroke. The examination table was high enough that the girl would not see these goings-on if she merely opened her eyes, but if she sat up, there was some risk of discovery, especially if she swung her legs over the edge of the table. Dr. Rodgers sidled up to the table to make himself easier for Miss Pulliam to reach, and to hide some of the activity behind the curtain under the table.

The doctor slid his gloved hand in the now gently thrusting pussy before him, and started alternating between circling the lips, rapidly sliding past the clit, and plunging in to tap the innocent girl’s g-spot. The patient now began to lose control, to pant, sigh and give little cries, to flex her legs in and out, to thrust at his hand…

“Good, good, this is going very well. You are a terrific, lovely patient. That makes it easy.”

Miss Pulliam began to lick and suck his cock, drawing her tongue up the underside and then taking the head inside her hot mouth, and gently sucking, tongue tip dancing her and there. All those years of medical study, all that hard work, had brought him to this point, and god, how they had been worth it. And Miss Pulliam had put in some time, too, learning exactly what she needed to know to assist. The sloppy suckling sounds were masked by the sloppy pussy sounds issuing from the tabletop.

He pulled his hand out just long enough to get his glove off. The now-lost girl cried softly, “No don’t stop!” but to fill the gap while he fiddled with the glove, he bent down and licked at her clit. Her gyrations accelerated, and her hips came up off the table, as her desperate pussy sought its release. He got his glove off at last and reinserted his hand, and returned to his cycling routine with 2 fingers now. So, so warm and inviting. The girl was very close to coming.

Miss Pulliam was sucking his cock deep into her mouth and torturing it with lips and tongue, and he began to feel the slightly burning rise of a come approaching.

“I think things may be ready – let me just run a quick little test.” He removed his hand again and tasted a finger, then a second, sucking off the juice from the base to the tip on each. This took about ten seconds but it was far too long for Annie. She cried again, “God no, don’t stop, don’t stop aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh…” she howled as he dove back in with his mouth and two fingers. The girl was way too far gone to notice any particulars. She could barely hear what he had been saying, and had lost track of what he was supposed to be accomplishing, or why she was in this office, or on this table, or what planet she might be on. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and her mouth was wide open and offering a breathy, rising, wordless cry.

And it hit: she came hard with his tongue on her clit and his fingers on her g-spot, gasping “oh Oh…OH” as she soared up, twisting and jerking with every thrust, and “OH Oh…ohhhhh” as she came down, still writhing a bit, slowly, side to side, as the pleasure continued to pour like warm honey through her body.

With his fingers lying in the sopping trench of her satisfied pussy, the doctor gazed upon the young loveliness he had just pleasured, while another woman brought his cock to the brink. Miss Pulliam began to rub and tap the underside of his balls while giving one long suck, and that was all he could stand. He came in waves, surging in the assistant’s mouth, and it came in the nick of time, because Annie began to rouse from her reverie.

“Uh…that was fantastic, Miss Cooper,” Rodgers said, with a hesitant gulp in his breath. “I have all the samples we will need, and you were just terrific.” Quickly but quietly, Miss Pulliam was putting his cock back in his pants, doing up his fly, stepping out of her hiding place and pulling the curtain shut. As the girl rose up on her elbows and began to look around, the doctor grabbed a small sample jar with some filmy liquid inside and said, “Miss Pulliam, please take this sample back to the lab and prepare the ointment. Miss Cooper, I know that this procedure will still seem unorthodox, even after you have been through it, and many patients might wonder if it isn’t vaguely related to a sexual act. It’s all a matter of intent, and after all, it is well known that sex is good for the complexion. Not that I am prescribing sex for you, you understand. You are probably still too young, but it’s not for me to say.”

While he spoke, the girl recovered, blushed and became a bit abashed, and hurried to put her pants back on. The doctor was now looking the other way and disposing of his wet glove.

“Thank you, Miss Cooper, you’ve been a very cooperative patient. If you’ll go out to the waiting room, I’ll bring out your ointment and instruct you on how to use it, and I’d like to see you for a follow-up in two weeks to see whether there’s progress.”

In a moment he’d take a standard preparation out to her, and maybe if she did improve, she’d tell her friends. If it didn’t work well, maybe she would return for some different treatment. He hoped so. He never wanted a patient to go away unsatisfied.

First Submission,

Feedback Welcomed!


Nearly three years ago an angel showed up on my doorstep, seeking comfort for a broken heart and looking for a fresh start. A year before, our friendship had ceased on a mutual level, leaving the future open for us. So here she was, on a hot July afternoon, pulling into the drive and crawling in my arms.

It took me less than two minutes to initiate the first kiss, a night to lay her in my bed, and a month before she was officially mine again, to have and to hold. My heart was hers to bend or break, but to this day she cradles my heart with soft, nurturing hands and full, warm embraces.

We live together, sharing all of our space and air, our energy and moods, and sometimes even our monthly cycles. The type of friendship that comes with sharing every detail of life is incomparable. We’ve created a safe haven where, day to day, minute to minute, our hearts mesh and bind. The love unfolds.

On this particular day, I crawled out of bed at the sound of my alarm signifying it was time to leave the comfy depths of my plush pillow-top queen-sized bed and get ready for the day. I went about my morning routine and just before I was ready to leave, I stepped back into the bedroom to give my love a kiss. She lay there, soundly sleeping and I stood to watch the rise and fall of her chest and the soft whisper of her exhale. I bent down to press my lips to hers and to my surprise, her eyelashes fluttered until her chocolate eyes met mine. She whispered gravelly in my ear, “Have a great day, beautiful” and then kissed me slow, gently nibbling my lip.

With that send-off, my day was off to a good start. I arrived at work and went through the motions, being energetically productive. Early afternoon rolled around and I was within a few hours of coming home. I decided to text my girlfriend and see what she was up to.

Me: “Hi babygirl, I miss you bunches.”

Her: “Miss you too lovebug, is it time for you to come home yet?”

Me: “Not quite, but soon enough baby. Naked time tonight?”

Her: “Please! I’ll be waiting.”

Ooooh, today is a good day and it’s about to get a whole lot better! The last part of my day was torture, thinking about what would be waiting for me when I got home. It was torture but I was surely enjoying the mental image my imagination was conjuring. When 5 o’clock struck, I was out the door and climbing aboard my homeward-bound local transit.

Coming up the walk I was so excited to be home. I opened the door and there was my beautiful girl waiting for me. She said, “Hey baby, how was work?” The only answer I had for her was to bend down just slightly, compensating for the two short inches difference in our height, wrap my arms around her waist and kiss her softly. Mmmmm, so soft and supple. I could kiss these lips until my dying day, with my very last breath.

I grabbed her hand and led her to the bathroom where I started the shower and stripped us both. I stepped in first and then pulled her in with me. Immediately she gravitated towards the warm stream, wetting her face and hair. I grabbed the shampoo and began lathering it in her short cut, Hershey-colored hair. I managed to get a couple kisses in the process, licking small drops of water from the corners of her mouth. Once I rinsed her hair I took special care in dousing her favorite loofa sponge with body wash and meticulously scrubbed and buffed every inch of her beautiful body. The scent of warm vanilla, honey and Shea butter filled the steamy air. I soaped up fully with my handy 3-1 cleanser for body, face and hair, smelling sporty and slightly masculine. We rinsed together and shared soft caresses and a few more nibbling kisses. Deciding I wanted to further this intimate interaction I suggested we towel off and head to the bedroom.

I fixed the pillows and sheets, not taking so much care, knowing they’d be a mess in no time. I put on some music, one of the random mixed cd’s we’d made over the course of our relationship. I asked her to scoot up on the bed and get comfy. I hung our towels on the back of the door and crawled up the bed and settled between her thighs. My favorite place to be. I get shivers just thinking of it now!

I lick my lips and grin, leaning down to kiss and caress her thighs. Her skin is soft as a baby’s bottom and smells sweet, like cocoa. I lick my lips again, awaiting my first taste. I lick up slowly, my tongue flattened, making as much contact as possible. I hear a moan.

I wrap my arms around her thighs from underneath and pull her into me, taking another long, slow lick. I stick my tongue out, navigating her soft, slippery folds, spreading her lips apart and finding the honeypot. I cannot help but to literally dive in, digging my tongue deeper into her juicy cunt. I still smell the soft aroma of vanilla but now her arousal is heightened and I can smell her sweet musk. It’s like a magic elixir, a pungent and sexual perfume. I lick and suck on her lips, and thrust my tongue slowly in and out of her well lubricated love hole. She starts to shift and shake, a sure sign I’m doing her well. I lick up and find that slick button of certain pleasure and wrap my lips around it, taking it in my mouth and sucking it like a very small, very sensitive cock. And from deep down, I hear a slight roar forming, she’s really enjoying this now.

I decide it’s time to stop the teasing and really get my hands dirty. I run my middle and pointer finger of my left hand up and over her slippery slit, teasing and caressing, eliciting excited moans on every downward stroke. I slide my fingers gently inside her and slowly pump them in and out. I love the feeling of a hot, wet, tight pussy gripping my fingers, muscles clenching to hold me where she wants me for just a moment or two longer. I sped up my rhythm and she opened up for me, relaxing her body but her breathing turned labored, coming in short huffs.

I hooked my fingers up and pushed them deep, searching for that oh-so-special spot. It never takes more than a few seconds, and a yelp of encouragement is released. I pulled myself up on my knees and used her right thigh for leverage. Quickening my pace with the additional pressure on the sweet spot was certainly rubbing her the right way.

Between short breaths and animalistic grunting came the sing-song screams of unabashed pleasure, the choir of my bedroom. With a final few thrusts, I felt those beautiful muscles clench my cramping fingers and squeeze the ever-loving life from them. Panting and thrashing, my baby was stuck in a white space of bliss, lungs on fire, heart beating nearly from her chest, a soft sheen of sweat covering every inch. Blindly grasping for my solid form, something to anchor herself to, I pulled her into my arms and rocked her back and forth to submission. There she was, my beautiful angel, seeking comfort from a heart so full, almost too full, of this love that we so abundantly share in our ever-changing fresh start.

I get out of my car and walk towards the grocery store entrance, I see you walking in as well. I’m dressed in khakis and polo shirt. Nothing fancy but I can tell that you are intrigued. We make eye contact but you break it and continue towards the door.

When we walk in I walk to the right to grab a cart, you grab a small basket. I feel a slight disappointment thinking you’re only here for a short run and I’m in it for the long haul.

I lose you when I head towards the fruit and figure it wasn’t meant to be. I grab the items I need from that area and move on. When I round the corner to the pasta aisle I see you. You look up and make eye contact again. This time I break it; afraid you’ll read my mind and see the desire in my eyes. As I walk closer you move back to let me pass you. I move slowly and then just as I get past you I turn towards you, grab your shirt and pull you to me. I kiss you passionately, release you, then grab what I need and walk off.

I speed up the next aisle trying to put some space between us. Not sure of what you’re reaction was and slightly embarrassed at what I just did. I slow down on the next aisle, catching my breath. I bend down to look at something and out of the corner of my eye I see someone turn this way. I don’t want to see if it’s you so I hastily grab what I need. I turn to head the opposite direction but you had sped up when I couldn’t see you and I’m too late. You grab me by the hair at the nape of my neck; I gasp and stifle a moan. You spin me around to face you. You kiss me and push me against one of the shelves. You press your pelvis against mine. I can’t help but let out a moan. Your warm and I’m on fire.

You break away from my mouth and kiss down my neck. Then turn around and calmly walk away. I look around wondering how many people witnessed our passion. I see a man slinking off as quickly as he can, obviously not wanting to be caught watching. I look back in your direction but you’re gone.

“Damn,” I think to myself, “you let him slip away like that? What were you thinking?” Abandoning my cart I take off in the direction you went. I head towards the aisles we hadn’t passed yet, you’re no where to be found. I stop and think about what you might have come to get and it dawns on me that you’re probably at the beer aisle.

I go back towards the beer and when I round the corner I grin widely when I find you there. You’re sitting on the edge of the cooler as if you’re waiting for me. You look up and smile back. I saunter over, pull you to me again and kiss you hard. You wrap your arms around me and hold me tight. I reach one hand around your neck and run my fingers through your hair. Then, not really knowing what has gotten into me I reach down and rub you through your shorts. You moan and pull your mouth from mine; you then start nibbling your way down my neck, then back up to my ear lobes. I can feel you growing with every kiss and I continue running my hand on your shaft.

You pull my hair making my head tip back and I can see that we are gaining a small audience. You kiss your way to the other ear and tell me we’re going to give them a show. You reach down and pull my shirt up, in one swift motion you pull my bra down and latch on to my right breast. Your right hand pulls my hips to yours. I remove my hand from between us and start slowing moving my hips back and forth. We both moan.

Then suddenly you pull away, slowly put my shirt back down, kiss me on the mouth and grab my hand. You tell the spectators that the show is over….

You grab your basket and lead me back to the aisle where I left my cart. When we get there you can tell I’m confused and blushing from embarrassment. You lean in, kiss my lips and whisper this isn’t over yet.

You quietly explain. You were having friends over for dinner, you tell me to grab whatever else I need and you’ll meet me in the parking lot. You can see I don’t believe you so you add “I saw where you parked, I’ll be there.” I nod back, stunned not really understanding what just happened. I do as you told me and grab the last of the things I need. I hurry partly because I don’t want you to have to wait for me and partly because I can’t wait to see what happens next.

I check out and head to my car. I look around but don’t see you; I immediately think I was a fool for believing you’d wait. I pop my trunk open and place my bags in there. As I place the last one I feel hands on my hips. They slide around to my stomach, and I hear you whisper “nice”. I blush and can feel myself responding to your touch. You kiss the back of my neck and I let out a sigh and whisper “yes”, immediately I feel your hands searching for my warmth.

You begin rubbing me through my pants with your right hand and pulling me into you with your left. I gasp and reach for your right hand. I guide you, adding pressure and speed when I need it. You bite my neck gently and then whisper to me that you cancelled your dinner. I pull away and turn around to see your face. I can tell you’re serious and that this isn’t ending here.

You laugh at the shock in my face. You lead me to the passenger side and help me in. After explaining that you’d hate for my groceries to go bad you get in the drivers side, turn on my gps and press home. The gps tells you were 10 minutes away. You look over at me and can see that I’m just beyond words and possibly a little scared. You reach over and grab my hand, and tell me I’m ok.

I can tell you’re concentrating on the drive to my house so I reach over and begin running my hand over your shorts again. You look at me and I just smile. “Can’t have you getting bored.” I feel you growing hard when I realize we are just around the corner. I lean over and kiss your neck and nibble on your ear lobes. When you pull into my driveway you put the car in park and grab my face. You kiss me hard and deep, I feel towards the ignition and grab the keys. I pull back, your hands still on my face. “Coming in?” You grab the bags from the trunk while I open the door. You bring them in and follow me to the kitchen. You tell me to put the cold stuff away. I begin going through the bags, the whole time you’re hands are running all over me. At one point I stand up and you raise my shirt off over my head. You stop me in my tracks and kiss down my breasts just over my bra.

You step back and watch me put the last couple things away. I grab two glasses out of the cabinet and fill them with water. “We’re going to need this.”

At that you set your glass down and gently press me against the counter. I can feel how hard you are and want you inside of me but I don’t want to rush the moment. You are kissing my breasts and running your hands over my bare skin. I reach to take your shirt off but you stop me. “I want to feel your skin, please?” You nod and let me remove your shirt and then you go back to kissing me all over. I feel your hands stop at the front of my waist line and then suddenly my belt is off. I feel you undo my pants and I find them down around my ankles.

You step back and look at me standing there. I blush, feeling as though I’m on display. You come back to me and whisper to me that I’m beautiful. I take that opportunity to kiss your neck, surprising you I hear you sigh and feel you relax. I take advantage of that and run my hands all over you while kissing as much of you as I can. I work my way towards undoing your pants. I tell you that if I’m going to be naked I need you naked too. I slide your shorts off and then kiss my way down to your waist line. I position myself on my knees in front of you. I go back to kissing your waist and hear you moan. I look up at your face and lock eyes with you.

I give you a sly smile and remove your underwear; I kiss down to the base of your shaft. I reach up with my right hand and gently run my hand up and down your shaft. I hold the tip close to my mouth and gently suck on just the head. I continue that for a moment and when it seems like you’re used to the sensation I take your length in my mouth quickly and just as quickly remove it. You seem stunned so I do it again. You moan loudly and start to rock your hips. I slowly suck on you following your rhythm when you suddenly pull out.

You lift me on to the counter and spread my legs. “Your turn vixen” and then your face disappears between my thighs. I feel your tongue softly teasing my lips, then plunging inside, then rushing up and flicking my clit. You do this a couple more times and then I feel a finger probing me while you gently suck my clit. You hear me moan and plunge your finger in deep. I rock my hips hoping to give you deeper access. You take my cue and add a finger. I moan and reach for my thighs to hold them open. “I’m so close. Please don’t stop.”

At that you pull your mouth away and stand up. Your fingers still probe me but you pull me towards you and kiss me. You can feel my hips rocking against your hand trying to reach climax. You slowly pull your hand away, still kissing me and then plunge three fingers in deep and hard. I pull away from the kiss gasping. “Oh yes” I reach down with my right hand and rub my circles on my clit. I see you watching this and what your hand is doing to me. You look back to me and ask if I like this. I nod my head, “It’s coming, I’m almost there. Mmm.” Your movements get faster and you feel me get tighter around your fingers, my legs shake and lean towards your face so I can kiss you.

You wait until the shaking subsides some before trying to back off. I feel you pull back and I lock my legs around you. “Not so fast.” I get down from the counter and grab your hand. I lead you to my room and lay you on my bed. I lie down beside you and face you. I place my leg over your hip and then reach down and begin stroking you. I position myself to where the tip is touching my wet lips while I stroke you. When my hand gets near the head I press it against me and use my wetness as a lube. You moan and pull me closer; kissing every part of me you can reach. I hear you say you’re going to cum if I don’t stop. I smile and continue my motions. I feel you stiffen and can tell its close. I pull my leg back and roll to where I am more on my back while stroking faster. You bite into my neck and I feel you tremble. After a couple faster strokes you release on me, some falling all the way up on my breasts.

I slow my motions and kiss you. “Satisfied?”

Charlene was a happy woman. Dating a man who adored her, secure in her job, and still looking good in her forties. What else could she want?

Deep down, she knew that there was something missing. There was a longing, a craving that she couldn’t put her finger on. She wasn’t sure what it was…or what it meant. But it woke her up at night. She’d find herself staring at the ceiling, resisting the thoughts that entered her mind and wondering what it all meant. Finally, she would break down and masturbate–giving those cravings a voice…a room to grow inside her head–in an attempt to make herself tired enough to finally get sleep, to push those thoughts down and out of her head.

She and Peter would cook together, watch old comedies, and joke around. The relationship was great. The friendship was great. The sex was great. She loved that he doted on her and didn’t act like most men she’d been with. Her release was most important to him. He’d tease and finger her, lick her pussy, and suck on her clit until she’d cum and cum again. He loved to watch her face when she exploded.

Other men had taken much different pleasures from her body. Her past had been filled with rude men, ones who would push her to her knees and expect to have their cocks sucked. She rarely obliged them, but she never liked it. It wasn’t her choice; it was something that they had demanded and taken through intimidation, their size, their commands, or simply through the threat that a single mother couldn’t be choosy about who she dated. But she hated every second of it. They were oafs, men of little imagination, and less respect.

Peter had been different from the beginning. He’d never asked for it; in fact, he’d stated that it wasn’t “his thing” and left it at that. So she’d been relieved to learn that there would be no more clumsy but strong hands on her shoulders pushing her down, no morning demands of “suck my cock, Babe” as she was awakened by a semi flaccid penis being pushed between her lips as a wake up call. Instead Peter would wake her up by gently spreading her legs and licking her to two or three sleepy orgasms that would finally awake her fully until she would sit up, breathing heavily, and holding his head between her legs as she came again.

Peter pleased her in so many ways…but left that little itch un-scratched. And she’d tried–oh how she’d tried–to tell him about this other side of her. The side that wanted to serve. The side that craved being submissive in every way. The side that desperately wanted for someone to overcome her reticence for the rough and crude acts she’d been “forced” to do by others…and make her WANT to do them. To kneel. To be commanded. To be spanked. To be forced to cum on command. To worship his cock. To be taken roughly in the time and place of his choosing.

But was it Peter that she saw in her fantasies when she thought about these things? This bothered her. She thought it was him, but she also knew that he couldn’t do it. He revered Charlene and placed her on a pedestal. Reddening her bottom was beyond the pale for him.

“My brother is coming” he’d mentioned off handedly while they were lying in bed one morning. She’d just had a series of small orgasms provided by his skilled tongue, his fingers, and finally, in the missionary position, his cock. Spent but wanting more, she was barely paying attention when he’d said it. It took a couple of minutes to process and finally she said, “A brother? What?”

“My twin. Richard’s an asshole. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t put him off. He won’t be here long.” She was alarmed by the pronouncement of his twin being an asshole, but didn’t think more of it since she was still enjoying some lovely after effects of her orgasms.

Two weeks later, a cocksure, arrogant, and slightly intimidating Richard came into their lives. He was planning on staying for a week. He was in the spare bedroom if he was there, but he usually was gone. Dressed in black suits with red ties–like it was his uniform–he would appear perfectly coiffed and disappear for the night to return in the early morning hours. The few times he did hang around in the “common” areas of the house, he looked at her with a malevolence that frightened her. She was intimidated by his attitude. He seemed to know things. Things that he shouldn’t know about her. She knew Peter would never tell him about their lives, about her. But Richard had an insight…a knowing to him. She felt like he was always looking through her and reading her most intimate thoughts. It scared her.

He spoke to her all the time. A slow, reassuring tone that did nothing to threaten her outwardly; the threat she felt was internal. He was polite, helpful, and even friendly, but in his words she felt a knowledge that he wanted her…that he would have her. An advance never came; he remained aloof. But her feelings pushed her to continually think of ways to keep the defenses up.

She hated him immediately.

He acted like he didn’t care at all. This drove her dislike of him to new levels. He didn’t deserve a woman like her. She almost wished he’d make a move so she could shoot him down.

Wait! Why was she thinking this way? How on earth had he gotten into her head so far that she was actually thinking about him touching her, despite the fact that her outward desire was to humiliate him by saying no? She had to admit that there was a feeling in her that made her keep thinking about the possibilities of time spent alone with him. It made her angry to think about it; she didn’t want him in her head that way. She blushed visibly when she realized that not only was her mind telling her that she would have to fight harder to resist him, but that her body was also betraying her. She was feeling the effects of the attraction she secretly held for him. Her nipples strained against her blouse, her skin got goose pimples, and she felt herself moisten.

Late that night, Peter brought wine home. They’d finished two bottles and started on a third when the festivities had moved to the bedroom. Peter had slowly stripped her of her clothes. She’d found herself standing in nothing but her sexiest heels in front of the closet’s full length mirror. Peter had caressed her breasts, kissed his way down her belly, and knelt in front of her while licking her. She’d never experienced this before. She felt like a goddess being worshiped by a subject on his knees. Her legs spread, she squatted on shaking knees just enough to put her sex closer to his awkwardly positioned head as he’d lapped at her pussy. The orgasm built in her until she dripped with her pleasure. Like a good lover, Peter lapped at her, catching every drop of her sweet nectar. He’d wrapped his arms around her upper legs and buttocks to steady her while he’d buried his face in her clenching pussy.

A finger intruded between her pussy lips. Working, pushing, and twisting, it found her g-spot and she exploded again. He held her up; there was no way he would let her fall. A beautiful, sweat slicked, orgasm-producing goddess stood in the spacious bedroom and exacted her tribute from a man who wanted nothing but the most he could get from her body. When her breathing calmed, she found that he was already on the bed, resting, satisfied that he had done wonderful things for her. She couldn’t put a finger on it, but there was something melancholy in all this joy. Something was still missing from all this bliss.

She lay in the bed, awake for a little while, and must have drifted off to sleep. Some time later–she didn’t know when–she awoke in a still house with his quiet breathing the only sound. She was thirsty, so she got up from the bed, still naked except for the heels which she noticed with amusement were still strapped to her pretty feet. The sexy shoes clicked on the hardwood floors, echoing through the quiet home.

The glow from the refrigerator bathed her body in a cool white light as she stood in front of the machine, peering into it. A bottle of water opened and was held to her lips. She drank deeply of the cool liquid and was about to return to the bedroom when she started. A strange noise frightened her and she turned quickly to see him standing in the kitchen behind her. The smile on his lips was one of amusement and interest. She’d forgotten that she was naked and he simply stood and enjoyed the view. She made no move to cover up; after all, he’d spent a half hour pleasuring her this very night. Why be modest?

“Very sexy, Kitten,” he’d intoned when he finally spoke, “I’d love some of that.” She could tell that he was in a naughty mood from the way he said it. If he was ready for more, then so was she.

“And how do you want it, Sir?”

“Ahhh, ‘Sir’ now is it? That’s a good girl. I’m glad you’re learning some respect for a man.” He grinned wickedly in the low light, and moved towards her.

“Well, I have tried to tell you what it is I need,” she answered with a small glimmer of hope that finally he was going to take a more dominant role.

His face hardened and softened at the same time. She could see the change in expression as his dominant side took hold. She could see the thoughts swirling behind gleaming eyes of what he might demand of her body. Alternately, his demeanor changed as if to say, “Dear, sweet girl. Finally, I am going to show you what I want from you…”

She was ready. She turned to face him full on, to show him that she wasn’t afraid of what might come. She stood on sure feet, ready to embrace her fate.

Fear and excitement raced through her brain. “What will he ask of me?” she thought. “He has no experience with this and I have less than that.”

His command came sharply, decisively. “Slut, on your knees.”

She was shocked by his tone, by the word. “Where did that come from?” Without thinking though, she dropped to her knees and assumed the submissive pose that she always took in her fantasies, hoping that he would be pleased.

He stood over her. He reached down and took her chin in his hand and turned the face up to look at him. “From now on, Slut, you will address me as, ‘Sir’. Do you understand?”

A voice that couldn’t possibly be hers came from her mouth, “I do, Sir.”

“And are there limits to what is mine?”

“No Sir.”

“And is this something you crave, Slut?”

This time, she hesitated. This was it. Finally, she would admit to him that this is what she needed.

His annoyance came quickly. “Slut? Why are you taking so long to answer?”

“I needed to be sure, Sir.”

“So your answer is…?”

“I crave it, Sir. I do. I need to be…this…thing. I want to be…submissive to you. I need to be treated like your toy, your possession. Yours to use as you see fit. Yours to command. I…need to give up and allow you to control my life.”


She fought tears. She’d finally said it. It had been given voice and now it was out there. Her need to submit to him hung on the air and consumed her thoughts. She felt brave for saying it; she felt smaller for offering her submission. She was now the little one in the relationship. He had been given all the power. No longer would she be placed on a pedestal. No longer would he worship her body and coax orgasms from her for her pleasure. Now, it would be for him. All for him.

The tears dried. It was done. She was his. And she was ready to embrace it.

He continued to look down at Charlie as if considering his first act. “What would make you mine?” he queried out loud. In answer to his own question–which he didn’t expect her to answer anyway–he unzipped the fly on his shorts. “Show me how a good submissive worships her Dominant’s cock.”

Excitedly, she reached into his shorts and was surprised by the heft of his member. She pulled it carefully through the fly and admired its shape, its smell, its weight, and its length as if for the first time. She kept expecting him to stop her, as if it was a test for her first act as a submissive. She carefully stroked it, waiting to be told to stop so he could move on to something else that he actually enjoyed. Surprisingly, he didn’t stop her but watched her carefully, surprised that she didn’t immediately suck the head into her mouth.

His hand twisted in her hair and she felt truly owned…and comforted by that ownership. It pulled her face closer to his thick cock and her mouth opened to swallow him. He didn’t stop pushing until the bulbous head caught in the back of her throat. She suppressed her gag reflex and allowed him to push and felt the length of him filling her mouth and going into her throat. Once fully stuffed into her mouth and throat, he held her there. She felt full and close to panicking. She needed to breathe but he held her there. Was this a test? Finally her gag reflex kicked in and she pulled away, choking a little as spittle clung to his now hard cock. She caught her breath and struggled to accommodate him as he immediately pushed back into her face.

His hips flexed forward and over and over he pushed into her. “That’s a good slut,” he whispered, “Do you like having your face fucked?”

She considered trying to answer, but knew that it would involve having to remove him from her mouth. And that wasn’t happening until he chose the time for it to stop. Her answer instead, was to increase her efforts at laving his thick shaft, to flick at the purple head with her tongue, and to swallow his entire length each time it was roughly pushed into her face.

She couldn’t believe it; she was enjoying it. She was astounded at her need to please him and amazed by her lack of fear. Everything she craved…

But the thought was interrupted. He pulled his twitching cock from her mouth and strands of her saliva mixed with his pre-cum stretched from her lips to his engorged head.

“Up,” he ordered and she struggled to stand quickly on wobbly legs. The heels didn’t help nor did her excitement at what was happening. Despite it being what she’d never allowed herself to admit that she wanted, she still felt like she was living a dream.

On her feet, she stood facing him until he physically grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. She felt herself pushed against the cold, unyielding metal of the refrigerator and her nipples crinkled and she screamed inwardly at the sensation. She felt him behind her. A finger deftly traced the bumps of her spine. It reached the soft curve of the small of her back and slowed, but did not stop. Dipping into the crack of her ass, it continued to explore and stopped just short of touching her most taboo spot. “Oh God…” she started to think.

But it was removed. Two hands firmly gripped her hips and pulled her away from the refrigerator. She was forced to step backwards about two feet. His foot intruded between her heels and gently kicked them apart until her feet were just wider than her shoulder width. The movement had forced her to pull away from the cold face of the refrigerator, but his insistent hand pushed her face back towards it and she was forced to bend at the waist. The heels jutted her ass out behind her and the position of being bent forward with her back straight made it worse…or better.

His hand caressed the curve of her right cheek. Its soft skin was explored by his firm hand and she could feel his breathing behind her. The hand was removed and then a stinging pain coursed through her. Again it hit. He was spanking her ass, hard! She couldn’t believe it. Five minutes after admitting her submissive nature and she had already happily had her face fucked and now she was getting a spanking. What could be next?

The spanking continued for five or six more swats. She could feel the heat building in her right ass cheek and it was strangely exciting to her. She was being driven crazy by the erotic pain and when he dragged his nails across the incredibly hot area, she could feel her pussy get wet. She couldn’t believe it; she was so happy yet wanted to cry from the pain. But not a sad crying, no. She was ready to cry tears of joy at finally getting him to take a dominant role in their sex play.

The insistent finger returned to her ass cheek. The other hand joined it and she felt herself being spread open from behind. “Oh…no…” she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. While she prepared to express her concern, her thought was interrupted by his finger–moistened from his mouth–swirling gently over her anus. “Oh…that feels so…” She couldn’t even finish the thought. She had fantasized about this most taboo of acts and couldn’t believe that for the first time in her life, she was being touched on her tiny hole. He was playing with her asshole and she found she was actually pushing back. It was so naughty, she couldn’t believe she was enjoying it.

And pressure was increased. He continued to swirl his finger around her butthole, but the pressure increased. “Does he intend to penetrate my ass?” she thought to herself. The finger pushed, never relenting, until her sphincter relaxed and the tip of his finger entered her. The feeling was strange, exotic, and she moaned a little.

“What was that, Slut?” he asked from behind her.

“Nothing, Sir,” she answered.

No answer. Well at least no verbal answer. The response to her silence was to increase the pressure yet again. She felt her ass being invaded by a sensation she’d never felt before. As she fought to remain quiet and not displease her new Dominant, she found herself pushing back lewdly, trying to engulf more of his finger in her tight asshole.

The finger was removed. She nearly screamed with frustration. She’d been on the long, slow buildup to an orgasm and now the stimulation had been removed. She almost cried from the loss of his invading finger.

And then, she felt a new sensation. She felt something wet, prying, and soft poking at her asshole. With a fright, she realized that he had knelt behind her and was holding her cheeks apart while he teased her sensitive spot with his tongue. “Oh my God,” she screamed in her mind. “This can’t be happening. Is he really going to…?”

The amazing feeling of his tongue poking into her most secret spot combined with the incredibly “wrong” nature of it cut off her thoughts and she fought to not collapse backwards onto his face. The orgasm was approaching and she reeled at the thought that this taboo stimulus was driving her over the edge.

When he grunted and pushed his tongue into her, past the resistant sphincter of her anus, and probed her asshole, she fought off the explosion that was building inside her. “Was she allowed to cum?” she wondered. There had been no talk of this; she didn’t know what was allowed.

But when the tongue pushed further up her ass and began to wiggle, she thought she might come apart. A finger snaked upwards, between her legs, and searched out her clit. When the finger touched it, she could fight it no more. Her orgasm crashed over her, radiated outwards from her pussy and ass, and drove her harder into the fridge. Her ass pushed backwards, tight against his face and tongue. She screamed, cried, laughed, and howled as if she was being blown apart from the inside. He held her with his arms around her legs and his face between the cheeks of her ass while she recovered from the powerful orgasm. The sensation of being held around the waist was similar to the one she’d felt earlier that night when she’d had her pussy eaten in a similar way.

At some point, she realized that she was breathing again. He was gone. She was alone in the kitchen, still naked, still barely standing on shaking legs, and feeling so much more…complete than before. She had what she wanted. She’d offered her submission and had a taste of what being taken roughly was like. She’d become an object, a cherished toy, to be used by him whenever he wanted. She was happy, and strangely so.

Re-entering the bedroom, she moved to their bed. He stirred and sat up straight. “Where have you been, Baby? I thought I heard a noise and woke up wondering if it was you.”

August 2018
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