Message-ID: <8554eli$9802171553@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: kate1533@yahoo.com Subject: NEW STORY: Incorrigible--part 1/many M/F Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <6ccm9l$ft9$1@nnrp2.dejanews.com> If you're under 21 or squeamish about nasty sex play, don't read this. The first episode is rather mild. It introduces our protagonists. I have in mind to illustrate character development over a lengthy BDSM relationship, along with progressively stimulating activities of increasingly severe nature. I would appreciate feedback. (kate1533@yahoo.com) Not to get SPAMMY, if you write to me expressing interest, I'll send info on the phone-sex biz,too. Episode 1 There had been boys before him. Fumbling, brutal, arrogant boys, too overwhelmed with their own needs, with themselves, to take her into account. She hadn’t liked them or even known them, really, for the most part, and it had always been a failure. She had wondered if boys ever grew up. She had wondered if she would ever be made to relish her womanhood, and so she had turned to women. For a long time it seemed the answer. Generous and gentle attention yeilded sweet melting orgasms and nurturing supportive relationships, until she met him and everything changed. She had a lenghthy committed relationship that was going through interminable death throes at the time. She thought there was still some hope for it when she first set eyes on him. Many years later she looked back at the virtual child she had been. At 24 she had moved as an awkward adolescent, still, and dressed as one, in jeans, sneakers and Tshirts. She had a mane of chestnut hair, which she wore as the Pre-Raphaelites would have depicted it, coiling with suppressed sensuality. The messages were at odds. Her breasts further complicated things. They were large and full, and though the nipples weren’t large they had minds of their own, pointing stiffly through her bra and shirt at unpredictible moments. Sensitive, they reacted to the brush of fabric or a change in temperature, and even women spoke to her chest more than to her eyes, which were a clear deep gray and darkly fringed. Inspite of her ripeness, she knew she appeared younger than her years, perhaps eighteen or twenty, and of course, where men were concerned, she was still Daddy’s little girl, though she couldn’t know that, accomplished as she was among women. So it came as a disorienting, thrilling shock to find herself suffused with lust for a man within hours of first meeting him. It was new and she had no preparation or experience for dealing with it. She told herself he was too old and too married. And then she answered herself, “I don’t care--I want him.” He was broad shouldered and tall, with enormous hands and a leonine head, craggy featured with just untamable iron-gray curls and a darker beard and mustache. He emanated heat and took up air in the room. He had the careworn muddy brown eyes of a basset hound, but when they found hers they held them for the entire class. It was a night class, an architectural drafting course, in the computer technology department of the local community college. Then came the accidental brushings and not-so-accidental ones that confirmed the undercurrent of electricity and after the third or fourth class he invited her for a bite at a barbecue joint. The waiter seemed to know him and asked if she was his daughter. He rested his hand at the nape of her neck and smiled, “No, she is a protege, a student, a friend.” and tightened his grip. Unaccountably she felt her cheeks grow hot at the same time as she felt a rush of warmth to her crotch. It was the first clearly intentional physical contact and she felt a wave of powerlessness wash over her. He held a chair and directed her to it, as he ordered an abundance of food without looking at the menu. Then he sat down across the table and observed conversationally, “Your nipples are very erect. Later, perhaps, I will play with them. Would you like that?” Again she felt the rising flush. She had been staring at her place setting, shredding the paper napkin, since she sat down. “Stop making a mess.” he said, quietly, and she looked up to meet his eyes. “Your blush, you know, is a mating display, but if you think you don’t want it, I won’t do it. I will never do anything you don’t want. Is that clear?” She nodded mutely. “But that means you must tell me clearly what you want.” He continued, as he put beans and burnt ends on her plate, “though it may surprise you to want it, you don’t ever have to be embarrassed with me to say. Now, is there something you want to ask me to do?” She hardly recognized the “Yes, please.” that came out as a whisper. “Don’t be timid,” he smiled encouragingly, “Yes, please, what? You can say it to me.” “Yes, please, play with my nipples.....sir.” “We don’t have to be that formal anymore. This isn’t class and you won’t be graded. You can call me Mike, when we’re not at the school. I’d love to play with your nipples. I’ve been thinking about it all class. I thought you’d never ask! Now, don’t tell me I’ve wasted the best barbecue joint in the city on you! Eat up!” And with that she discovered herself to be ravenously hungry and fell to. As they ate, he watched her with approval, adding particularly juicy morsels to her plate as he came across them and keeping up an informative discourse on regional barbecue marinades, sauces and dry rubs. When he had paid the bill and held her jacket for her, he again rested his hand beneath her hairline at the back of her neck, and she again felt the curious sensation of having her will drained from her, as he guided her out the door and down the block to his car. “When we get in the car, “ he said, “ I want you to leave your shirt and jacket on, but take off your bra. Leave your jacket open.” In the dark, it wasn’t hard to slip in and out of her sleeves and remove it from under her clothes. The car had to warm up before the heater would work and she was chilled by the drafts she had had to expose herself to. He raised an arm and said, “ Come! I’ll keep you warm til the car warms up.” She hesitated and then snuggled against him. He draped his arm around her and dangled it loosely over a shoulder. As the heater began its work he stroked it through the shirt with just the tips of his fingers, and when the car was quite warm and she had relaxed a bit, he brushed them across her right nipple. It was as if he had his mind on other things, but soon it was tightened and pointed and he drew his nails across it, through the fabric. As he pulled onto a highway he adjusted his position and pushed her slightly away, so he could reach her from the front. Now his fingering was less casual and more direct. He used the large padded ends of his forefinger and thumb to coax both nipples to full attention, increasing his grip gradually through the material of her shirt. When either one had been held by his thumb and middlefinger at the aureole, pulled out slightly, as he ran his forefinger in circles over the tip, and she had heard herself sigh and gasp a little, he told her to turn and face him. “Show me” His eyes were on the road, as she lifted her shirt, but as they passed under a streetlamp he turned. She was looking at them too, so she only heard his sharp intake of breath. The aureoles had contracted and were dark and pebbled, the nipples themselves conelike. The night had drained color and her skin seemed luminous and starkly white. His hand approached, lightly curled and he brushed the undersides of them first with the backs of the second joints of his fingers. Then he held one and the other between his fingers, still not touching them with his palms. They were lightly squeezed first and then more firmly, and she noticed she had thrust her chest out towards him. His mouth had taken a determined set and his hooded eyes seemed glazed. When their eyes met she again felt locked by his and he seemed to come back from a distance to ask if she was enjoying it. She did not immediately respond. He smiled warmly as he had in the restaurant and then his mouth set again. Suddenly, with the crook of his forefinger and thumb, he gripped her left nipple so tightly that his thumbnail went into the base. She gasped in shock and pain but her hands still held the shirt up. Her nipple felt suddenly on fire and icy and, as if some nerve ran directly to her genitals, there was a surge of heat to her vulva. “I”ll ask again:are you enjoying this? Do you want me to go on?” “Yes! Please stop!” She could force herself to speak, but not to make sense. The mild warmth of expression returned, but he did not loosen his grip. “I can be patient, but you have to be clear. Tell me what you want. You have to say.” “I liked it til now, but this hurts too much. Please stop.” she managed. He promplty let go. “Very well, put your shirt down.I won’t do the other.” Perversely, she now felt this as her loss. She was phenomenally turned on and she had disappointed him on their first, and now, probably, last date. Her panties were wet, her left nipple still throbbed, her bra was in her jacket pocket and she was suddenly in tears. “Come” he said and he put his arm around her and drew her against him, on the car seat, as he took the exit ramp. He turned her face into his shoulder and rested his great hand on her head as she quietly wept for a moment and collected herself. When she straightened up a bit, he said, “No harm done. We had great barbecue and a little fun, after, right?” “I’m sorry. I’m less experienced than you probably think.” “Oh? Do you want to tell me about it?” And she had gushed. She had told him everything. They parked on a side street in her neighborhood and she poured out the story of her life. For some reason she wanted to trust this man, she felt she could. And, of course, when she had finished her tale she did. Then he said, “You’re too sensitive; I must be crazy for thinking I can do this.” “Maybe,” she replied with new confidence, “but I wouldn’t let that stop you.” He drove her to her door and before she got out of the car demanded “Give us a kiss.” She pecked him lightly and then went around to his window and leaned in to do it as she meant to. He bit her lower lip, quickly and hard. This time, with the pain came a spasm of pure joy. “Sweet as candy” he said as he put the gear into drive. “I’ll call” -----== Posted via Deja News, The Leader in Internet Discussion ==----- http://www.dejanews.com/ Now offering spam-free web-based newsreading -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |