Posts Tagged ‘hand’

Her spirit was unchallenged. Desires known only to her had ravaged her mind from the beginning. Her soul was lost in amongst the helpless mortals she had been forced to live with. In an arrangement so ironic, much like that of Adam and Eve, she was at the mercy of the forbidden fruit.

She thought to herself as she reclined into her leather high back chair of the time she spent in the past desperately trying to find herself. She smiled as the thought of those last few years past. Her sex pulled tight to her body as though to shrink away from those experiences which had not enlightened her. How naive she had been.

She toyed with the thought for another moment and in her daydreaming the leather riding crop in her hand became an object of focus. How smooth the handle was, the length on it just right to deliver sharp snapping commands. She remembered the first time he had used it on her. He was so scared to hurt her that he had failed to inflict any sort of marking what so ever and when they were done he curled into her from the spoon position holding her as tight as he could and drifted off to sleep.

She stayed awake that night, the crop just out of reach as her arms were trapped in the affection of her lover. So new was this to both of them that neither knew what to expect, or do. She woke him the next morning with breakfast in bed and a warm oil hand job. She remembered smiling at him with nothing but lust and love in her eyes. He was so responsive, so caring. She remembered leaving the room to wash her hands after he had spewed his jism everywhere whilst moaning and screaming how good it felt.

When she came back he was nearly asleep again. The thought had lingered in her mind to let him sleep. She knew that eventually they would experience everything together that they so desired. A wicked smile passed over he lips and she let the leather crop snap down lightly onto her sex. His surprise had been more than genuine when she came back into the room. Matter of fact he had been shocked. Upon seeing him sleeping she just couldn’t help herself. She needed to try that crop out and since he hadn’t on her, she had to on him.

Climbing onto the bed beside him she struggled out of his grasp that threatened to take her to sleep with him. It had always been like that. Their bodies were like great suns that were pulling each other towards one another. Only that morning the pull had shifted to her favour. She smacked his hand away when he reached for her again. Then in a move that shocked her she reached out and gripped him forcefully by the hair.

He sprung awake and his eyes met hers with defiance. Quickly she brought her hand across his face with a loud slap. He was struggling to get off of the bed and assume a defensive position but she was on his shoulders and he failed to remove her in his weakened post orgasmic state. Her flesh stung as she lashed out again striking his face with even more authority than before. Eyes burning now with rage he yelled and screamed for her to stop it.

So exhilarating was the experience that she could not. She slapped him again and again repeatedly saying things to him that were speaking the very opposite of the action she was performing. “I love making love to you” slap “your cock fills me like never before and your hands express themselves on my flesh like I have always dreamed hands could”

His face was reddened and he had turned his head from her trying not to look in her eyes but she reached out and pulled his chin towards her so she could see him.

Her lips longed to kiss him, to kiss the reddened cheeks she had given him. As she leaned down to bury her desire onto his lips he surprised her and struggled free.

He was across the room in a flash and put his back against the wall. He asked her is she liked that, if she liked to slap him. She answered that she didn’t know. As if her answer of uncertainty was less than acceptable he marched across the room and told her to slap him again. Se reached out without thinking and smacked his face again. A tear had welled up on the corner of his eye and she felt her compassion rise. She wanted to kiss that tear to taste it’s salt, to drink him and feel him inside of her.

As she had raised herself from the bed he gripped her forcefully by the wrists. He pulled her off of the bed and sent her sprawling across the carpeted floor. Her sex throbbed at the physical force. The way his body moved when he was determined to do something. She tried to struggle to her feet but before she was able to he had taken her long sock from the floor and pulled her arms behind her back. With a force she had not experienced in a man he tied her hands tightly together. She was on her knees and her was exploding with sensation. This is what she had wanted him to do last night. This is what she had always wanted someone to do to her.

He took hold of her under her armpit and pulled her off the floor. Mumbling to himself about proving he was man enough to do this he pushed her over the short chair that was in the corner of the room. She squirmed and struggled but inside she had released herself to him already. He told her that she was to get what she deserved and what she wanted from him. The crop was in his hand and he ran the supple leather down her back and over her buttocks. He walked around in front of her and let her look at him for a moment. His sex was becoming hard again and the veins were very visible. His breathing was quick as though he had scared himself. Stepping very close he pushed his half hard sex against her closed mouth. The scent of the oil and the slickness of his cock made her sex burst in ambrosia. As she opened her mouth to receive him into it he had of course pulled away.

The crop started cracking across her buttocks after a moment of total silence.

He had told her later that he was thinking about what he was about to do. That the thought of it turned him on so much he wasn’t sure if he could do it for fear that some unknown variable would ruin it for them.

They would laugh about that in the time to come she mused as her hand slid up and down her leather-covered sex. It had become a regular thing with them. The dominance had allowed them to unleash their most wild desires. The pain brought with pleasure only enhanced the people they had become. In some cases it had toughened them up and in other had brought about a compassion that neither had experienced before.

Up and down her ass the crop struck her. It was not the same as the night before she remembered. It was perfect. He had started slowly and without much pressure. Her hands tied behind her back had left her helpless and her moans of pleasure were not orchestrated for his pleasure but were genuinely hers.

He had stopped and ran the crop over her sex. The long thin graphite shaft that split her sex felt amazing. She could feel it twist and turn it whilst he was watching her sex become redder and more swollen. Behind her she could feel him pulsate. In the next moment she felt a surge of pleasure pour into her body. His hips pressed firmly against her ass and his sex flexed within her. He was whispering in her ear that she should remember what this feels like, that he wanted her to concentrate on this until it happened again.

With that she felt him begin to slide out. Her cries of protest went unnoticed and when she felt his swollen head pull from her clasping sex she felt empty.

In her daydream state she had pulled her leather panties of and placed a mirror in front of her sex. Her black glove covered hands rubbed her clitoris as she looked on in wonder. The sensation of watching herself while she dreamed of him often took her to realms of pleasure that not even he could take her to. An intimate self pleasure. With no emotions involved but the act of orgasm.

The silence had consumed her and she screamed out for him. Still hanging over the chair her breasts dangling against the rough fabric swollen and her nipples were now tight and hard. She heard him enter at last. It had seemed like an eternity to her and the blood rushing to her head had begun to make her dizzy.

She felt the crop run up her back again and even though she didn’t want to feel more pain her sex opened again and ambrosia poured forth from it. It was a carnal feeling that she couldn’t resist. He laid the crop down on her back and she felt him move his hands through her hair. His lips came very close to her ear and she felt his hot breath. Her response was to moan softly hoping to entice his sex back into her. “I have wanted to give this to you for awhile now” his voice spoke to her. She felt something being brought around her neck and then it was tightened to the point the she felt some pressure in her head, like a light choke. She had known he wanted to give her this, as she loved her throat to be held while he entered her sex. She thanked him with soft whimpers of pleasure and had writhed her ass cheeks in the air to coax him into letting her show him her appreciation.

He was not swayed though by her beautiful buttocks dancing in the air. To her surprise he pulled roughly on the arms tied behind her back and brought her to her feet. His lips ravaged her mouth and his tongue probed deep into her tasting the whole mouth. She felt him press his hard sex between her legs and she bent at the knees trying to put pressure on it so she could feel it’s hardness between her thighs.

He stepped back and reached under her chin grabbing what was a ring on her collar. Pulling her forward to his mouth he kissed her one last time and then with a forcful jerk pushed her to her knees. His delicious smelling sex had been right in front of her then and she had opened her mouth to take it in. Her need to feel it in her grew steadily as he held her by the chin looking into her eyes.

What I remember first, while awakening, was the scent of fruits that surrounded me on all sides, and I named them as they occurred to me: quince. Banana. Apple. Peach. I rose slowly, uncertainly, in this place in which I had never been. Trying my feet, attached to long legs, so spindly compared to those of other creatures—will I be able to walk? Gratefully, I was, and heaved a sigh of relief, as I moved through the bush to the sound of running water. This sound was the first I heard that compelled me; it is also what probably woke me.

In the stream leading from the small waterfall were fish and birds, with the fish swimming upstream and the birds building nests. If they are drinking this water, than so can I. I squatted, my knees bent at acute angles, and cupped my hands into the clear, cool water, lifting them to my lips to drink. When the shade covered me, I could see my reflection in the water: curvy body, but otherwise remarkably tall and thin, too much so to be able to walk upright; long hair on the head, but much less elsewhere; lips sticking out on a predator’s face, with hands that looked capable of anything.

I also saw the reflection of another, who looked like me, except for his body being straight as an arrow, peering at me cautiously from his place in the bush. I turned around, stared back like a deer, and he emerged, revealing another difference, his sex, straight as an arrow. I glanced down at my own sex: triangular from my vantage, with a practical-looking slit.

“You must be my side,” he said, in a surprisingly gentle voice.

I took his hand, his hand that looked as complicated and capable as mine. His skin was so dark and red-toned that I looked pale next to him. He drew me up, standing, and we looked into each others’ eyes. It was clear how he knew me and how he knew my name. Cognizance had told him.

Above us was a canopy of vines, of ivies and figs, tall trees that allowed only small chinks of the heavens to peer through and reach the Earth. Birds sat pecking at the full grapes as this man pulled me close, close enough for me to smell him. I inhaled his musk and put my hands on his face, pulling his mouth to my lips, and he bid me. My lips moved on his, his kissing warming yet tentative, until our tongues met. The tip of my tongue touched the flat of his, causing him to throw his head back; I followed, eagerly, our tongues deep in my mouth, exploring, his tongue darting snake-like around my lips, my teeth grazing his lips while his tongue cajoled my mouth, the fluids of us collecting in a somewhat clumsy manner.

I put my arms around his waist and held him close to me, feeling his sex rising, hard and straight, between us; I used my hands to feel his body, tracing a thumb along his back, his lower back, his ass, then threading and raking my fingers through his hair, which was softer than grass, softer than water. He grabbed my left hand and placed it on his sex.

Taking a step back, I admired him, his chest, which was flat, his broad shoulders, much wider than mine. I knelt to inspect his legs, which were similar to mine, but thicker, and placed a spidery hand on his kneecap, closing my fingers. With that, he groaned and stooped down to pick me up. Surprised, I let out a small yelp, though not of alarm.

His face deep in the crook between my neck and shoulder, he bit and kissed me there, then sucked hard on my earlobes, gnashing them between his teeth—a peculiar caress, I thought, even as it caused blood to pool in my lower body and for me to feel overheated. Taking an earlobe of his between my own teeth, I returned the favor, and we kissed and sucked fervently on necks and shoulders, pausing for our tongues to meet and make circular our union.

At once, I felt I was falling, tumbling to Earth, only to realize he was setting me down on the grass. I gazed up at him through lowered lashes, realizing that my eyelids had been mostly closed as he and I feasted on each other. Coaxing my arms aside, he kneeled over me and touched my breasts, these two organs that must have appeared very strange to him. The gesture was controlling of me, and I found that I cried out in order to secure it; he gave my right breast a squeeze and bent his head down to it, his tongue encircling my dark nipple on its darker areola, tracing with his tongue concentric circles. The tip of my nipple he reserved for maddening licks, as though plucking berries, until I held his head down with my own hands and he relented, sucking the tips of my nipples while holding my breasts firmly. His hair flowed over me, creating a soft cover, a veil like the vine canopies above us, providing a musky scent that I inhaled deeply, his hair tickling my face like butterflies.

I looked up and saw his sex, straight out and pointed at my face, and reached out for it. He laid on his side, my hand on his sex, and it was remarkable to me that his sex had so metamorphosed. My hands went up and down his sex, his shaft turning dark and his glans turning a darker red, my fingers loose and cupping his sex, my fingertips touching. How clever of his sex to come wrapped in such a way so as to be protected and to be so easily moved. I peeled it back and moved it up, examining it in all of its incarnations. A glistening fluid, in tiny drops, emerged, looking beautiful as a spider web.

He placed his face on my breast, shaking his head, murmuring and purring, and I rubbed a hand down his back, over his ass. With a shift of our bodies, he placed my hands over my head and his own on my breasts, going down, past my stomach, past my mons and fitted his palm to my sex. He pressed his palm, firmly, on my clitoris, on the mound, and moved his hand up and down. Soon, I felt a sensation like pine needles on my face, and I felt much too warm, and reached out to put my arms around him. He allowed this, but maintained his distance enough for his handiwork, allowing my arms to only go so far around him, really just my fingers around his waist.

He opened the lips of my sex, revealing what there was to the open air and to his gaze, and used his fingers to caress my clitoris, my vulva, all the lips which were now opened. I felt stiff and my sex felt irritated, the pine needles feeling again, but felt waves crashing over me, in succession, as he kept going. Flailing my arms a little and unable to keep my feet and legs still, it must have been a task for him to stay out of the way of accidentally being kicked as I carried on, carried away by rushes of warmth and coolness, by surges and waves. Without meaning to, I panted for a moment.

My thighs splayed in my throes, he took his sex and placed it near mine, wetting his in the fluids of mine, so abundant and fragrant and they competed with the scent of the nearby stream. Almost as if by accident, his sex entered the very edge of mine and I enveloped him very slightly; an excellent idea, I thought, pulling him closer onto me, and I took his sex and enveloped it completely, which must have surprised him. He let out an “oomph!” and started to move on top of me, his back and ass arching to push his sex in and out of mine. When he thrusted out, his sex emerged damp with humidity and glistening in the morning light. I Shifted my legs, pulling a knee up to my chest, feeling the heat in my chest and in his, his sweaty brow dripping sweat onto me as he grunted, and he tried to turn my body around on his sex. I enveloped him tighter, squeezing with my sex and with my body.

His articulation seemed to increase and I knew something was going to happen right before I felt a small amount of hot fluid pouring into me just as his thrusting seemed too hard to keep up with. He exhaled deeply in my hair and held me tight, as I put my arms tight around his sweaty back, glorying in him, looking up at the canopy of vines above me, and noticing the birds chirping. He exhaled and sighed heavily, then again. Raising his body, his sex, again metamorphosed, left my body.

I kissed his neck and face several times.

“I’m hungry,” I said. “Stay here and I will bring you something.” I got up, my legs weakened but still working, and sauntered to the apple tree.

I have been thinking about sex a lot lately, about hot sex, passionate sex full of noise and urgency. I guess it’s because that is exactly the opposite of what I get. Tony takes the lady in me to bed, making love to me carefully as though I were made of glass leaf, when what I really want him to do is fuck me.

It has nothing to do with power, with control, or dominance. It has everything to do with sanity, my sanity and needing to get crazy. It has something to do with friends and my mother and my daughter and running away – not from them, but from the me in them. Does that make sense?

It has everything to do with sex.

It has something to do with love.

It has everything to do with me, with the thoughts in my head that I can’t control or direct. Sometimes I get so lost in them I get scared, my stomach cramps and I want to cry. But it’s also kind of nice, because it’s so intense.

Tony knows nothing of this. He knows I masturbate while he’s at work, and sometimes he’ll ask me what I thought about while I did it, and I tell him, but I haven’t told him how powerful the emotions are that drove me to it, or how much control they have over me.

But today is going to be different. Today I’m going to do something about it. I’m going to live the fantasy, the adventure in sex my body is screaming for. I’m going to let the demon peek out. I don’t know how Tony will take it; I haven’t been able to talk to him about it. The risk is he’ll hate me, but if I don’t do something I’ll go insane anyway.

The important thing is to start slowly, reduce the shock that his pretty, sensible girlfriend – we get married next year, the date’s set, which is another reason why it’s so important he understands everything – and mother of his child has a secret sex drive, a slutty streak that’s aching to be given liberty.

Because the last thing I want to do is scare him, seduction, I decide, will be my watchword. I want to seduce him into my way of thinking, my way of fucking.

Afterwards we can talk. I’ll tell him everything then, about how I feel and what I think are my needs; after all, they have never really been explored anywhere outside of my head yet.

What if I don’t like it? The thought hadn’t occurred to me before. For a while I lie there, warm on my side of the bed, looking at the empty pillow next to me. I can still smell Tony, below the gels and shampoos, creams and oils he uses each night and morning before work.

I can smell him, though it’s only faint: salt water and summer seaside beaches, tangy oranges, rain and freshly sawn wood.

Rolling over on my back, feeling the soft cotton of the quilt draw across my nipples, sending tiny lightning strikes down my belly and into my sex, I stroke the front of my leg where it joins with my hip. I like the feel of the way the muscles bunch here. One, two, three definable muscles, toned and hardened by three classes a week.

I feel the lust demon within me stir, but I don’t want to waken it, not yet, so I stop my fingers going any further. No, I don’t think there is any danger of me not liking tonight.

I guess the only fear I have left is of rejection.

Getting out of bed, I pad across the bedroom floor until I’m standing in front of the mirror. It’s not as warm as I thought and gooseflesh breaks out on my arms and upper legs and my nipples crinkle tight. Mmm, nice: hair by Crystal Tips, body by Colonel Sanders; so much for a boost of self-esteem!

Tensing my legs and bum I turn sideways, front ways, sideways again. I hold my hands over the tangled hair that covers my mons, imitating a Brazilian, and smile at the effect. It seems to extenuate my wide hips and flatten my tummy – any help in that department is always welcome – and the thin line of hair left looks like a dark finger pointing towards my sex.

Not having the pain threshold for a waxing, it’s something I’ll attend to later in the bath with a civilised razor, I decide, pulling on a too-big sloppy-Jo before sitting at the dressing table to begin the daily crush and remould on my face.

* * * *

The drive to my mother’s takes under half an hour. Megan’s in the back gurgling and giggling happily in her child seat, while the rest of the car is filled with every essential, possible and maybe for her overnight stay.

‘What’s so special about tonight?’ Mother asks when I arrive. She takes Megan and I begin unpacking.

‘Nothing, just a break, that’s all.’

‘Stay for coffee.’ She knows me better than anyone, and can tell something’s up. Fleetingly I wonder it I should talk it over with her; she’d probably understand, though I doubt the general tone I’d have to use would get close to what’s going on inside me. I decide it’s something I have to work out for myself, so I decline, kiss them both and leave.

Back at home the first thing I do is shake a blanket out on the lounge floor, smoothing the crinkles by stroking them out to the edge until it’s completely flat. Then I kneel in the middle.

I try to imagine how it will be tonight, Tony naked and hard, me open and ready, touching, tasting each other – something he has never done to me, but something I long for. Then how it will feel as I take him inside me, not with me on my back as is always the case, but straddling him, taking control, rocking slowly back and forth as I watch the walls of his defence tumble with each stroke, until he’s as lost in the sensations as I am.

Sunshine has warmed the day and now lights the voile hanging at the front window into a blinding white. Safe nobody can look in, I steel one hand up my skirt and brush the soft cotton of my underwear, knowing how damp and urgent I have become.

Will he beg, yell, call out my name? I close my eyes. Will he talk to me, using words like ‘fuck’, ‘cunt’, ‘tits’ and ‘cock’; words neither of us use but would sound so erotic in the height of passion, as if he were so full of desire for me he had no control over what he was saying, and wouldn’t care if he did.

I want all the evolution man hides behind to dissolve away, leaving only the basest of human emotions, a Neanderthal-like urge to fuck.

Creeping a finger inside the elastic of my knickers, I go straight between the soft folds of skin to my special button. I gulp back the pool of saliva that has suddenly sprung into my mouth. I feel hot, light-headed and desperate. My demon of lust is now full awake.

I know I could partly relieve myself by just continuing what I’m doing, but today’s not about that. Today’s different. Withdrawing my hand I straighten myself and force my mind to return to the fact that I am kneeling on the blanket.

Food. Tony loves his food, so I’m going to give him an orgy of food all laid out here on the floor. It’ll be a carpet picnic, with everything he loves. I want warm fragrant bread and ice cream next to each other. Chocolate cake and potato wedges smothered in cheese; each plate individual yet impossible not to be tasted together, just for the sheer decadence of it.

I want us to be as wild for the food as we are for each other. Eating while we fuck, fucking while we eat, me feeding him, him feeding me – sensations overlapping, hot, cold, sweet, sour, our taste buds blending with the sexual energy until release could come by swallowing or orgasm and you’re no longer sure which.

I can feel myself shaking slightly, and I know if I don’t get up and begin preparing the food now, I’ll drop deeper into this well of lust until I’m consumed by it and nothing else matters. This is when I can get scared, but this is also when the intensity is so delicious.

Slowly I get up on soft legs and walk towards the kitchen.

* * * *

It’s now six o’clock. The curtains are closed, the candles are lit and the food is spread out on the blanket around me. I’m bathed, shaved and draped in the sexiest lingerie I can find. I have found a classical music station on the radio and set the volume low, and I’m as petrified as I have ever been.

It had all seemed like such a good idea, but now all I keep thinking is he had never shown any interest in anything but basic sex, so what the heck made me think I could seduce him like this? He’ll think in depraved, walk out, or worse, laugh.

Then I hear the key in the door and there’s no more time. This is it. My heart’s pounding in my ears and my palms are drenched in cold, clammy sweat.

The noise of the door slamming shut behind him makes me jump.

The lounge is open and suddenly he’s framed in the doorway, jacket half off. His tie is red and hangs down like a huge, angry arrow pointing just below his belt buckle. I’ve never noticed how it hangs before.

He doesn’t move for ages and I realise he’s frozen. He looks like a photograph.

I take a deep breath. ‘Mum’s got Megan,’ I say.


I feel like I’m on a stage with thousands of eyes staring at me. I want to hide my body, cover myself with hands and arms, but if this is going to work I know I have to take control. Fighting the urge to do the opposite I open my legs wide and run a finger down the centre of my purple cotton G-string.

‘Please come and join me?’ I say, managing to disguise some of the tension in my voice.

He walks over, shrugging the jacket back on and for a second I’m convinced he’s going to shout at me, but he doesn’t, he smiles, bends down and kisses me full on the lips, taking my face in his hands and opening my mouth with his tongue.

Relief almost falls as tears before I remember what this is all about, and set to work slipping his jacket over his shoulders and tossing it across the room where it lands half on the sofa and half on the floor.

‘What’s this about,’ he says. How confusing it must seem.

Taking off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt I say, in the sexiest voice I can muster, ‘this is about us. Well, no, actually, this is about me.’ His shirt’s off, joining the jacket. He’s kneeling next to me and I put my hand flat on the zip of his trousers. I can feel heat.

‘We can talk after. Right now all you have to do is fuck me.’ The final two words echo in the space between us. Before he can say anything I reach over, pick up a chunk of cheese and stuff half of it into his mouth, half in mine and we’re both smiling and chewing.

I push him back, touching his smooth chest. He reaches out and fingers my bra, and I squeeze my breast forward into his hand, while pulling his shoes and socks off. Then he twists his hand away.

‘I don’t . . .’ He leaves it hanging, perhaps unsure how to finish it.

‘Just touch me, for fuck’s sake,’ I say.

I close my eyes and hold my breath as he reaches out. I’m so desperate for him I could die. My sex is thrumming for his touch. For a second I swear I can feel the tips of his fingers walk luxuriously over the front of my knickers, but it’s just in my mind, because his hands are elsewhere, on my thigh, stroking, though hardly touching the skin. I want to scream.

I want eye contact, but I can’t get it. He’s looking everywhere but at my face.

‘That’s not what I meant,’ I say, taking hold of his wrist and throwing his hand between my legs. Now I have eye contact. Time closes like a flower at night, and in that brief moment of suspension a whole world of emotions are passed between us. I smile. I think he’s as scared as I am.

I lay back, confident he’s now with me.

‘You look beautiful,’ he’s saying, running a firm finger up the soft milky-white insides of my thighs. Then both his hands are tugging at the waistband of my knickers. I raise myself as they slide over my hips and down and suddenly my sex is exposed, my newly shaven sex that’s oceanically wet.

‘Fuck,’ he says, staring. The word makes me tingle.

I watch as his face dips between my legs. I have wanted this moment for so long, wondering, wishing. Then he tastes me, experimentally at first, then with more confidence until he’s lapping and licking and caressing me with his tongue. My body feels like the sensation dial has been turned from minimum to maximum. All my senses feel sharpened and alert like never before.

Very quickly I can feel the beginnings of an orgasm slow dancing in my tummy. I roll back, throwing my hand above my head where it squelches into the centre of a chocolate cake. I’d forgotten about the food.

Never losing track of the delicious sensation of Tony’s tongue, I grab a handful of cake and slide it in front of his face, smearing it over myself. The cream is cold and makes me shiver. I look into Tony’s brown eyes for a register of pleasure or disgust, but he’s along for the ride now and I hear – and feel – him moan as the flavours of me and the chocolate cake mingle into one.

Soon I’m feeding my man everything, smearing myself with hunks of soft, warm bread ripped from the centre of the loaf, dipping it into my sex before he eats it. Ice-cream, crisp and cold, melting and running in my valley. Strawberries, ripe and juicy, pushed in and sucked out. Melon, ham, warm cheesy potato wedges. Anything I can grab without order of forethought, until I’m delirious, lost somewhere in ecstasy, no longer even aware of Tony as the intensity breaks on the shore of my sex, and I whimper, sob and moan my way through the most powerful orgasm.

After a while I decide it’s Tony’s turn, so we swap places and I’m stripping him of the rest of his clothes until he’s lying naked in front of me. He’s gloriously hard, the glands bare, red and shiny.

I want to do this so well for him, and tip my head forward, shaking my hair so as to gently whip him. He smells of brie and seaweed and a dewy forest floor.

Slipping off my bra I feel my breast wobble and still before I lean forward and rub them over his cock, alternately squashing them together and pumping and pressing him into their softness.

I can hear him moan and watch as a tiny bead, like a single tear, seeps from his tip, and I kiss it away. Then I take him whole into my mouth. He feels smooth on my tongue and lips as I luxuriate over his length, testing how deep it will go before pulling back, leaving a trail of saliva down his shaft.

With my hand I cup below, feeling him; the crinkly skin that’s thickening the closer he gets to coming, protecting the delicate globes within.

What I really want is to mount him, so I crawl up his body, kissing and licking my way up his chest to his mouth, then, sitting up straight with Tony lying beneath me, I guide him inside me until I’m sitting firmly in his lap.

My wetness allows him to slide in, but does not stop it feeling tight. I feel full up, stretched and complete. I ride him, loving the feeling of being on top, rocking backwards and forwards, up and down.

My own orgasm is approaching now, but I can see Tony’s is closer, so touch myself, masturbating, coaxing it closer and closer until I see through slit eyes Tony’s face screw up in pleasure.

I sit deep, still, milking him with hidden muscles as he spurts and spits and convulses inside me. All the time I’m rubbing my clit feeling the pleasure build and build until I’m coming too, our orgasm joining, swirling together, out sex locked in the most beautiful embrace.

Without moving, I catch my breath. I want to know how I’m feeling so I can remember this moment, but I’m not sure what I feel. Happy, contented, complete? Relieved? Everything I think.

I look down at Tony. He’s grinning, and so am I. We’ve a lot to talk about, my lover and me.

We had just gotten back to my house and sat down on the couch. We, of course refers to me and my girlfriend, Ally. We were two kids halfway into our senior year of high school; I had turned 18 at the beginning of the year and she had just recently turned 18. I’m about average height, 5’8″, with blond hair and a 6 inch circumcised dick, and she’s about 5’6″ with brown hair, glasses, fleshy C-cup boobs, and a plump ass. We had promptly returned home after my gig; I was the lead guitar player in my band that had just played at a local bar.

There were a few bands left to play after us, but nothing good, so I had brought her to my house in the hope of having some fun. We had been dating for over four months now, and I thought things might finally start to get serious. After a make-out/dry hump phase that seemed to last forever, (though in actuality it was about three months) I had finally gotten my first hand job a few weeks ago.

We had been parked at 1 o’clock on a Saturday night in our high school parking lot, making out in the back seat of my car, when it finally happened. She unzipped my jeans and pulled them down, along with my boxers, past my thighs.

Ally loosely grasped my cock and started to slide her hand up and down my shaft. Neither one of us had done anything like it before, so after some awkward feedback and some clumsy tips, she grasped it a little tighter and started to pump a little harder. Anyway, long story short, it took her forever to get me off and I cummed thick white goo all over her hand. She complained about her arm hurting afterward, and then commented that if we continued to do this, we should probably get some napkins for the car.

I felt bad, so I let her wipe the juice on my stomach, and I proceeded to pay her back, unzipping her jeans, leaving her panties on. I slid the jeans down past her knees, then I slid my hand up her thigh, under her underwear, and towards her cunt. This was the first time I had ever touched a vagina. I inserted my middle finger into her pussy, which was wet and sticky by now, and started moving it in and out. Her pussy was hairy, but I fucking loved it, and it turned me on more. She told me to use two fingers, so I inserted my ring finger too.

After a few minutes she began to quiver and moan. Her fleshy butt shivered every few seconds. I slid my thumb under her cotton panties and started to massage her hairy clit. She started moaning and whimpering pretty hard. In a few more minutes she pulled my hand out of her pussy and out of her panties and pulled up her jeans. To this day I’m still not sure if she cummed, but either way she loved it.

So anyway, back to the couch, after my gig. We had sat down to watch tv and there appeared to be nothing good on. I couldn’t find the remote, so I got up to change the channel on the tv. As I went to sit back down on the couch, Ally broke the silence.

“You have a really great ass,” she said.

“Yours is better,” I flirted back with her.

“Ha, prove it,” she told me. So we both unzipped our jeans and pulled them down in the back, her showing off her butt under her tight cotton panties, and mine under my boxers.

“Still not sure,” I said. She pulled down the back of her panties showing off her two big, plump cheeks. Her ass was pale but I loved that about her; she didn’t tan like all the fake girls at our school. I pulled down the back of my boxers, revealing my butt.

“Hmmm,” Ally said as she inspected our two asses. “I like yours better.” I happened to strongly disagree.

We laughed, zipped our jeans back up, and she slid her tongue into my mouth as we began to make out on the couch. After a few minutes she asked me, “Is your mom gonna be home soon?”

“No,” I replied, “She’s out of town.”

“Then I’ve got something special for you,” Ally said. “Since your band played was so great tonight.”

I was lying down on the couch, she was kneeling over top of me. She started to slide her t-shirt off over her head. I lay there, stunned, as I had yet to see her topless. Her boobs jiggled in her bra as she pulled the shirt off. She then proceeded to unhook her white bra and throw it to the ground.

I laid my eyes for the first time on her big c-cup tits. They bobbed up and down as she cast her bra to the floor. I just lay there speechless, her tits staring me in the face; it wasn’t like in a porno where the guy always knows what to do. Her nipples were big and light pinkish colored, almost the same color as her tits. They were hard and erect. I finally regained control and sat up, her still straddling me on the couch, and started to suck on her nipples and lick her breasts.

After a bit of this, Ally put her hand on my chest and pushed me back down, so I was lying under her again. “Take off your shirt,” she commanded. As I did this, she unbuttoned my jeans and slid them off. She then took my boxers off. Needless to say, my cock was by now fully erect, stiff, and throbbing, and I was horny as fuck.

She grabbed my dick in her right hand, still straddling me on the couch as I lay flat, and just when I thought she was gonna start jacking me off, the unexpected happened. She lowered her head over my member and put her lips over the tip of my penis. Her long brown hair fell to both sides of her head, nearly covering her face, and she moved slowly down until my entire erect cock was in her mouth.

She started pumping away, and even though she had never sucked anyone before, it felt great, much better than our first encounter with the hand job. It felt amazing, her lips sliding up and down my cock, her warm saliva acting as lube.

As she moved her head up and down, her boobs bounced with her. As she shifted on the couch a bit, the tips of her breasts and her nipples began to smack against my balls as she bobbed up and down. Her tits felt great rubbing against my sack. It was so fucking hot and I was so horny. It was the greatest euphoria I had ever experienced. I don’t even remember some of it halfway through.

After a few minutes of this I began to quiver, and my ass started to shiver. I started to moan and take quick, short breaths. She sensed I was about to cum and sucked up and down my shaft faster. Her tits rubbed against my balls even more.

I was experiencing so much pleasure, I forgot to utter the common courtesy, “I’m cummmmming!!!!!”

A few seconds away from climax, I let out almost a yell of pleasure as my cock pulsated and throbbed. Ally kept sucking away as I blew my white hot load into the back of her throat (I hadn’t jacked off or gotten a hand job in awhile, so it was quite a load!). As my dick squeezed its last few drops of cum into her mouth, she stopped sucking and gargled my load down her throat. She stroked my cock for a few more seconds til I was cooled down.

She lay back down by me on the couch, and we made out, her bare tits pressed against my chest, my half erect penis flat against her jeans. We ended up spooning. I unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off. And we just lied there, watching tv, me completely naked, her topless with only underwear on. My flaccid penis rubbed up against her plump ass, shielded by her cotton panties.

I slid my hand down Ally’s back, under her panties, over her cheeks, brushed against her butt hole, and slid two fingers into her tight, wet, hairy snatch. I pulled her panties down and used my other hand to work her clit. As she let out a soft moan of pleasure, my cock began to slowly rise again, its head brushing against her butt crack as my dick became erect.

Chapter 3

Joanne handles both son and dad


When Joanne woke up the next morning she decided to test how Chris would react if she was totally open with him about what happened the night before. She wasn’t upset that her son had been spying on his parents as they made love in their bedroom. She thought that sort of curiosity was normal in an 18 year old. But their love making last night wasn’t exactly conventional — her husband John had given her ass a thorough pounding in what was their most intense anal sex session ever.

If Chris had seen that through the crack in the bedroom door what would he think of her? Would he think she was some kind of slut? Joanne was concerned how Chris regarded her. After all she’d masturbated her son to orgasm just before her anal sex session with her husband. Would Chris still respect her as a mother?

She really wanted to help Chris get over his extreme shyness. She and John had decided that if she helped Chris get over his sexual hangups it would build up his confidence and he’d start going out with girls like a regular 18 year old boy.

She got out of bed and went to her closet. She thought her husband had been right last night just before they went to sleep when he suggested she wear more revealing clothes in front of Chris. If Chris was to break out of his shell he had to see his mother as a sexual woman who loved him, not just as a provider and carer.

She had a long shower, scrubbing her back to get off the cum that had dried on her ass and legs. She got the razor and shaved carefully around her pussy. She had a little line of hair on her pubic mound, and for the umpteenth time she pondered whether to shave that off too. She kept it because she had this feeling she looked like a little girl if she was completely bare. She knew John wanted her absolutely hairless. She wondered what Chris would like. But she still kept that little landing strip as the women called it. The important thing was to shave carefully around her pussy. Then she reached around and squatted so she could shave her ass crack. Difficult spot that. Wished I had some help, but she couldn’t imagine anyone volunteering to shave her ass.

Standing naked and fresh she looked through her clothes. What to wear for Chris? Not the Victoria’s Secret see-through frilly underwear. That would look like she was trying too hard. Not the transparent nightie. He’d seen her in that last night. Maybe the tight little tank top. No. Too little girlish. It has to look natural. Like she just threw it on without knowing how revealing it was.

Joanne pulled on a loose white singlet. It had deep scoops under the armpits so it showed a fair bit of her breasts from the side. It had a deep scoop at the front so if she bent down her nipples could be seen easily. Perfect. Next she pulled on some loose black satin shorts that were small and rode high up her hips. Chris will be wondering all the time if I’m wearing anything underneath, thought Joanne. She brushed her blonde hair and put on a tiny bit of make up to look fresh for her men.

She left John to sleep in — after all it was a weekend — and went down to the kitchen. No one else was up, and Joanne made herself a muesli breakfast with fruit. She took it outside and sat on the back deck where she’d sunbaked the previous day. It was a beautiful sunny morning. Joanne listened to birds singing as she ate her muesli. She felt good with the world. She heard noises in the kitchen.

“Is that you John?”

“No mom, it’s me.”

Her son sounded decidedly nervous. Joanne knew she had to do something now rather than wait.

“Get yourself some breakfast dear and come out and sit with me in the sun.”

“OK mom.”

Joanne adjusted her singlet so that it hung low. She knew from the side she was showing an almost complete profile of her breasts. She pulled up her shorts a bit so that it was tight in against her crotch and bare right to the top of her hips.

Chris noticed immediately he walked on to the deck that his mum was revealing a lot of flesh as she sat in the sun eating her breakfast. He didn’t know how to react to her after what she’d done to him in his bedroom and what he’d seen her do with his father last night. He didn’t know regular women took cocks in their ass. He thought it was only porn stars who did that sort of thing. Certainly he still couldn’t believe his own mother willingly took dad’s cock deep into her asshole. How could he react normally with her after what he’d seen?

Chris shuffled along carrying his bowl of corn flakes. He didn’t dare look at his mother, looking down at the ground. He sat and continued avoiding looking at her, eating silently.

“How are you feeling this morning Chris?” she asked softly. Her son was in T-shirt and shorts. She thought he looked very handsome.

“Fine mom.”

He still didn’t look up at her.

“Chris, please look at me. It’s rude not to look at people when you talk to them.”

Slowly Chris raised his eyes to look at his mother. She looked so hot. He could see the side of her right breast almost completely exposed by the loose singlet. Her thighs were exposed right to the hip, and he wondered if she was wearing anything underneath. He wondered if her ass was sore after what she’d gone through last night.

‘Oh God, how can I keep thinking about my mom like this’ Chris thought to himself and he looked down at his breakfast once more.

“Chris we have to talk about last night,” Joanne said, leaning closer to him. “In case you’re worried, I’m certainly not upset at what happened. I think it was a beautiful thing we did, and I did it to help you. I hope it teaches you not to be afraid of sex.”

Joanne reached over and put her hand on Chris’s thigh.

“Chris we are all sexual beings. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Your father and I are very proud of you. We both agreed that if I helped you get over some of your inhibitions it might build your self-confidence.”

Still Chris said nothing. Joanne stroked her son’s bare thigh, her hand reaching up to within six inches of his crotch.

“Chris you were magnificent last night, and I loved seeing your cum spurting over your body like that.”

Chris was stunned. He thought his mom would just pretend nothing had happened. He looked up at her. She was smiling at him. Love filled her eyes.

“Really mom, you’re not mad at me.”

“Of course not. I’m not even mad at what you did later — in the corridor outside our bedroom.”

“Oh mum.” Chris hung his head in his hands. “That was so embarrassing. I just blacked out. I didn’t even feel hitting the floor.”

“You fainted dear, but that’s not what I’m talking about. Chris, we know you were listening to us through the door. And you were masturbating weren’t you Chris? I found the sperm stains on the wall and on the carpet.”

“OH NO” Chris cried in shame. He tried to shrink away from his mother, but she kept a grip on his thigh and made him stay in his seat.

“Chris, Chris, it doesn’t matter. We’re not angry or upset.”

“But mom, what you were doing with dad, him in your ass, didn’t it hurt?”

Joanne sat back stunned. So the door had been open. Chris had watched John fuck her in the ass. It just happened to be their most intense anal adventure ever. She still felt a little bit sore. Joanne knew this was an important moment. How she handled this could affect Chris for life. She had to make sure he realized anal sex was just a natural part of some people’s sex life.

“Chris, that’s OK. I said we’re not upset and I mean it. No it doesn’t hurt. Well, only at first. We both like it and it’s part our sex life. We don’t do it all the time, which makes it very special when we do do it.”

Chris burst into tears and got up and hugged his mother. Sobs wracked his body. Joanne held him tight. Chris was about six inches taller than his mother, and his muscular arms encircled her. Her breasts were pressed into her son’s chest. His groin ground into her flat hard stomach. Joanne could feel the bulge of his cock pressing into her. He wasn’t erect, but he wasn’t totally flaccid either. She didn’t move. She just kept her arms wrapped around her son, comforting him as he continued to sob, his head buried in her neck.

John came out on the deck at that moment. He stopped when he saw his wife in a tight embrace with his son. He saw that her barely covered groin was pressed in against her son’s thigh. Her loose singlet had pushed to one side and her right breast was now completely bare, pressed against her son’s chest.

After a while Joanne stepped back. She saw John standing nearby.

“It’s alright John. Chris was worried how we would react to what happened last night. I’ve assured him everything is OK and we’re not upset.”

“No Chris, we’re not angry. No need for you to be crying like that.”

Chris nodded and looked down again. He still wasn’t convinced his parents had forgiven him for spying on them.

Joanne noticed a small tent had appeared in Chris’s shorts. The close hug had obviously got to him. Amazing how that thing could grow under any circumstances.

“There is one thing you have to do though Chris.”

“Yes mum?”

“Get a wet cloth and go and clean up that mess you left on the wall and carpet outside our bedroom door.”

Chris turned red. “Oh, sure mom.”

When Chris left, John sat down with Joanne. She told him what had been said, and that Chris had admitted watching them while she had a cock in her ass.

“I tried to make him see it was a part of our normal sex life, but I think he sees me as something really weird and that normal mums don’t do that sort of thing.”

“Maybe we’ll have to make sure he understands the things normal people do in their sex lives. That there is no such thing as normal. Look, I think what you and I do is fantastic, but I know some married couples swap partners, go to orgies and the husband loves watching his wife having sex with total strangers.”

“I’ve heard that too John, but you don’t want to do that do you?”

“Well, now that you mention it…….”

John gave his wife a quizzical look.

“No way John. I won’t do that. I’m helping our son, and I think I’m very broad minded doing that. I didn’t even get upset when I found out he’d watched you fuck me in the ass. I’ve masturbated our son, for goodness sake, so don’t you go thinking I’m a prude.”

“Not dressed like this you’re not,” John said approvingly, reaching his hands under Joanne’s singlet to feel her breasts.

Chris returned at that exact moment and stood watching his father fondle his mother’s tits. His parents hadn’t seen him. He watched in wonder as his mom kissed his dad passionately, her hand reaching down to fondle his cock through his shorts. Chris ducked back behind the door. He wanted to see how far this would go.

John reached down and undid his pants allowing his cock to fling out of the shorts. Joanne kept on kissing him, both hands pulling on his hard cock. She opened her eyes and saw Chris looking at them from the kitchen door. Not again, she thought.

“Chris, don’t hide,” she said “Come out here. Dad and I are just having a bit of fun.”

Chris stepped out nervously. His mum hadn’t stopped pulling on his dad’s cock and his dad was still fondling his mum’s breasts.

“Sit down here,” Joanne said, patting the chair next to her. “You can watch us openly. No need to hide anymore. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’ve seen us having anal sex anyway, I don’t think a morning fondle is going to hurt.”

Chris sat down nervously. He was only a few feet away from where his mother was fondling his father’s cock. His eyes were glued to the way her hands moved up and down the shaft. It was just like she’d jacked him off last night. His hand moved down to hold his own cock through his shorts.

“Come on John, get these off so I can feel you properly,” Joanne said, tugging down her husband’s shorts. John was thrilled Joanne was doing this in front of Chris. He lifted up his hips and tugged down his shorts. His cock sprang up. He spread his legs wide so Joanne could get to that magic spot beneath his balls. Chris was fascinated. He watched as his mom used one hand to jerk his dad’s cock, while she used the other to hold and fondle his balls. Chris was surprised when Joanne’s hand dipped below his dad’s balls and started stroking that stretch of skin below.

“Wow mom, you did that to me last night and it felt fantastic,” Chris blurted out.

“Ah, but I didn’t do this……” Joanne said to her son.

John raised his pelvis a bit higher and Joanne’s fingers dipped even lower and started circling her husband’s anal ring. Her other hand jerked his cock faster. Joanne brought her fingers up to her mouth and licked them thoroughly, spitting on them. She returned her now slippery fingers to her husband’s asshole, circling them around and around the hole.

“Oh God Jo, that’s wonderful, please do it, you know…..” John cried.

With that Joanne smiled at her husband and looked sideways at her son. She saw he was fondling his cock through his shorts.

“Best get them off or you’ll have to do some more tidying up,” she said to him.

Chris dropped his shorts real quick. Joanne looked at her son’s cock and was pleased to see it hadn’t diminished despite his ejaculations last night. That’s a teenager for you.

“Just watch this Chris. Learn something new.”

Her finger touched her husband’s sphincter, patting it gently. John gasped and thrust his hips forward. He knew what was coming, but Chris had no clue. Bit by bit Joanne slowly slipped her largest finger into her husband’s anal hole. John uttered a cry. Chris wasn’t sure if it was pain or joy. Then as John continued to undulate his hips, Joanne slipped another finger into his asshole.

“Oh my God, Jo,” John squealed, his face contorting.

Joanne picked up the speed of her hand on John’s cock. She tried to time her finger’s thrusts into his ass with the jerking of his cock. Beside her Chris was leaning in even closer to see what his mom was doing to his dad. He didn’t know a man might like to have something in his ass too.

John was shaking, his hands gripping the arms of the chair. Suddenly his cock spurted cum all over his chest, running down Joanne’s hand and over his balls to her other hand that was playing with his ass. Joanne felt his sphincter muscles squeeze her fingers as he came.

As he was slowly drained, Joanne withdrew her fingers from his ass. John collapsed in the chair. His sperm was all over her hand. She looked to Chris who was furiously whacking off beside her.

“Here baby, let me help.”

Joanne pushed Chris to lean back. She moved closer and gently caressed his hard cock with both her cum soaked hands.

“It’s a beautiful cock, you know that? You can cum for mummy honey. Just get it all out of these big balls.”

John was astounded. He never believed his wife would go this far. He looked on in wonder as Joanne once again masturbated their son. This time he got to watch.

Chris didn’t need the added stimulation of a finger up his ass. He was ready to cum after what he’d just seen. As his mom pulled on his cock with two hands he erupted, squirting a foot or so into the air before it splashed down on her hands.

“Holy shit,” cried John. “That’s a heck of an ejaculation son.”

Joanne continued, determined to get every last drop out of her son’s balls. Chris’s sperm ran all over her hands, wrist and forearms. After about half a dozen spurts Chris too collapsed in his chair.

“Hmmmm, not as much as last night,” said Joanne. “I’ll have to give you longer to recover in future.”

“Oh mum, that was wonderful,” sighed Chris.

“Honey, you are truly amazing,” said John.

Joanne looked at her cum soaked hands. The sperm from her two men was dripping down to the stone floor below. She looked at both of them slumped in their chairs, completely drained from her manual ministrations.

“Yes, I suppose I am,” she laughed, and got up to go and clean herself up.

July 2018
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