Message-ID: <20772eli$9903250436@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "Dick Goesinya" Subject: Ng Story Collection 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: <19990325041028.34082.qmail@hotmail.com> Here is the complete collection of the Ng stories. Thanks to the author for taking the time and energy to produce these wonderful stories. Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com Here are our first posts to alt.sex.stories. While You Were Out... by Deidre Ng Well, I guess you're not home. That's what sisters are for, always there when you need them. Well, I guess I'll just talk until your tape runs out, in case you're in the bathroom or something, and can't reach the phone right now, but you know that as soon as you can reach it, I'll hang up. That won't happen this time, 'cause like I said, I'll keep talking til I'm forced off by your stupid machine. Well, if I know my sister, you're probably in the shower right now, and there's no way you can here this because the water is running, pounding into your back really hot, steam all over the place, and you're oblivious. You're all sudsy, you've got your boobs all lathered up and slippery, and you're standing there with one finger on your clit, getting really buzzed up. Pretty soon you'll turn around and lie down and let the spray sluice over you. You'll put your legs up and let the water pound right down on your pussy while you pinch your nips and get really hot. Maybe you'll turn over for a change of pace and let the shower massage your asshole for a while, with the runoff gurgling over your pussy and across your stomach until it cascades off your nipples and chin. You can keep yourself pretty high, playing like that with some nice hot water spraying all over you. I know, 'cause you're my sister, and sisters have a lot of similar tastes sometimes. Certainly if I was in the shower while someone was talking to my answering machine, I'd be having at least that much fun. I suppose I might as well make this interesting enough for you to listen to the whole thing. I wanted to tell you about my stay at the St. Regis, it being such a fancy hotel and all, but the fanciness got all overshadowed by the amazing thing that happened to me there. The first night I was there I came back to my room from dinner utterly exhausted. Running this conference for my boss and dealing with all the jerks and being pleasant while being condescended to, or being propositioned, or leered at by clients and salespeople alike, it's not worth my measly salary. I shucked off suit, shirt, nylons, bra, it all went in a big pile in one of the big wing back chairs that I had in my room. The room was really cold, you know hotel air conditioning, never right, so I took my big terry robe out of my overnight bag and put it on over my panties. Then I just flopped onto the bed and started watching tv. Maybe staring at tv would be a better way to put it, because I wasn't really watching, just kind of lying there...after a while I turned it off and started to doze. The terry cloth felt nice and warm and soft, kinda cuddly. I was thinking about this guy that I've told you about, he's got this really light touch, and he knows how to touch me all over, so maybe the terry cloth was reminding me of him. Whatever it was, I was about to fall asleep dreaming about him when at the exact same split second the phone rang and I remembered that I had told him he could meet me that night after dinner. I rolled over and grabbed the phone on the second ring. It was him, he was downstairs, what was my room number? I was stunned, half asleep, I said whatever it was without thinking and then added in a rising panic that I was almost ready. And then I hung up. I was still lying on the bed trying to prioritize when I heard a knock at the door. Totally mortified, I let him in. He was dressed really nicely, ready to take me out. He closed the door and gave me a big smile, and then a big hug and then a big kiss. As he held me I said I was sorry, that I was tired, that I wasn't ready, could he wait just a few minutes and I'd be ready. He pulled away a little and looked around the room, he must have seen that I had nothing unpacked, all my work clothes were jumbled in a pile in a chair, that I was at least a solid hour away from feeling presentable to the outside world. So he smiled and he said why don't we stay in tonight. And then he kissed me again. We stood kissing for a while, and the little knots in my stomach unwound as he held me close. I could feel my boobs pressed into the terry bathrobe, pressed against him. I got very aware of how little I had on. Sometimes deep kissing makes me a little dizzy, I must have swayed against him like I was going to fall. He broke the kiss and pulled away, I thought he was going to lead me over to the bed and lay me down. Instead he sat me in the other big wing back chair at the foot of the bed. He knelt in front of me and I opened my legs and the robe fell back off my thighs, showing him my legs and the dark patch of hair under my panties. He got close to me and we kissed some more. He unknotted the bathrobe by feel and I pulled his shirttails out and started on his buttons. He brushed the bathrobe back from over my breasts and started sqeezing and rubbing me the way he knows I like it. I gave up on his buttons with a big moan and put my hands up behind my head and pushed my boobs forward into his hands. Then I put my arms around his head and kissed him really hard, really sticking my tongue into his mouth and worming it around while he stroked me up and down over my boobs, pinching me and pulling my nipples. I was making these little sounds in my throat and down between my legs I was getting wet and tense in anticipation. He stood up and got the pillows from the bed and put them behind me. He made me lean back and relax. I got a private strip show as he took off his clothes. They all went onto the pile in the other chair, one after the other. He stopped when he just had his shorts on. I could see his cock, stiff, almost peeking out of the elastic band. He looked down at me, at the panties I was still wearing. I gave him a little show of my own. I reached under my ass and slid them off my cheeks, letting the fabric roll up as the panties came off. At the same time I spread my legs wide open. He would have been staring right down my pussy, except for the damp panel of white fabric between my legs. I gave him a naughty smile, I was teasing him because I know he loves to look at me. I wet two fingertips and slid them behind that barrier to his sight. I didn't have to fake playing with myself or how good it felt. I knew I was driving him crazy, he loves to watch me come, and here it was all happening behind this little veil of cloth. I was so wet, I would have loved to have just kept going, but I wanted him to take his shorts off too. So I closed my legs very reluctantly, and slowly pulled the panties down to my ankles. I slipped my feet out of them and threw them with a little flourish onto the pile in the other chair. I put my hands between my knees and made a big show of spreading my legs again, my hands sliding down my thighs as I hooked my legs over the chair arms. Now he really could look right down my pussy, which was what I wanted of course. And that was exactly what he was doing. He tried to be as coy. Sometimes in the past he'd made me rub him and kiss him through his shorts. This time I was too far away, instead he just peeled them slowly over the head of his cock as he took them off. I've got to admit the sight of a stiff cock gets me pretty wound up. I started stroking my pussy, watching his cock bobbing in front of me. I got my fingers wet in my mouth. My pussy was already pretty wide open from my position and my previous fingering of myself, I reached down and start spreading the wetness around, letting my fingers dive inside me, showing him where I wanted his cock. He knelt in front of me again, and kissed me slowly on my legs, letting his kiss trail down my thigh and across the stiff tendon in my groin. I kept working my pussy, getting it wetter, til he started to lick me himself. Then I let him take over, like I said before he's an expert at going down on me. I just got a grip on my thighs just behind the knee and pulled myself as open as I could make myself be. He was very careful, he could feel how excited I already was. His tongue fluttered over my clit, I get hot just thinking about it. When he felt me getting too close to letting go, he'd pull back, stop kissing me and just lightly massage me with his fingers, all around my pussy. He put his fingers in me, stroking as he kissed my clit. I was losing it fast. I started to beg for him to fuck me, just little panting "fuck me, fuck me pleases. I really wanted his cock. He straightened up and put his cock against the outside of my pussy, the slick pink walls he had been kissing and stroking. I wet my fingers again and made his cockhead wet, pulling and stroking on it. Then I spread my lips and let him slide into me. As hungry as we both were, he gave me an inch at a time, pulling out and sliding in, before he was completely inside me. Each stroke got a groan from me, I was quivering. Once he had it all inside, he gave me some long deep strokes that left my whole body singing. He pulled a little ways out of me. It made a space between us so that he could reach down and stroke my clit. He wet his thumb and rested his hand on my patch of hair. His thumb fell naturally across my clit. He alternated stroking my clit and keeping his cock still with stroking his cock into me and letting his thumb stay just in contact with my clit. I couldn't take it, and when his thumb started circling my clit again I knew I was coming. I let it wash over me in big waves. I felt my pussy clamp down on his cock, it felt so good having him tight inside me as I came. I heaved up and down and drove his cock all the way into me, that set off another wave of pure pleasure. I felt like I was floating in a kind of luminous haze, shot through with light and thunder. I was still very aware of my body, and his, but the rest of the world had gone away. He was fucking me again, I could feel him stiff and thick, sliding in and out of me. I was super tight around him. He came really deep inside me, it felt great, just floating there, taking his come, wrapped around his cock. Usually, we'd both collapse after fucking that hard. This time, just as I felt him getting soft inside me, he slid out and stood up. His cock was dripping with our mixed fluids. I guessed at what he wanted next, so I leaned forward and grabbed his ass and pulled him close. I started licking and sucking his cock, cleaning up all the delicious juices I could find. He really liked it, I felt him get hard again in my mouth. He knelt again, and slid into my pussy again. After a few strokes he pulled out all wet and glistening again, and again I sucked him clean. I was getting really turned on, sucking him like that, tasting all that pussy juice and cum in my mouth. When he knelt again I told him to fuck me really hard. I got really crazy as he rammed it into me and I licked my lips, smelling his cum on my breath. I came again, hard, clamping down on his cock. We got up and staggered to the bed and fell into it. We both fell instantly asleep. About two in the morning I woke up and pulled him over on top of me and got fucked again, a dreamy slow screw full of kissing and holding him tight, the kind where he's a dark shape covering you, filling you, making you feel safe and erotic at the same time. When the wakeup call came, I was on top, coming one last time before I had to go. We showered together, soaping each other up, but I couldn't let it go too far. I can't remember a single word anyone said to me the whole day after, I was in a walking daze, going over and over what had happened the night before. Well... thats all I wanted to tell you for now. I gotta say, you've got the world's longest answering machine tape. Sayonara, kiddo... Telephone Tag by Tammy Ng OK, Dee Dee, two can play the long hot phone message game. While you're at the office making goo-goo eyes with the investment bankers, I can abuse your unprotected answering machine at home in Brooklyn. Big mistake on your part, sister. Maybe you should get a chastity belt for it, eh? For your information, I was in the shower when you called yesterday, and I wasn't doing a single one of those nasty things that you accused me of doing. Well, maybe one or two, but the point is, I was not getting off in the shower, which was the gist of what you were saying. I'm sure the idea came very naturally to mind for you, because ever since I can remember you always took forever in the shower, and I'm quite sure you spent most of the time getting yourself off in just the way you described. Anyway, I wasn't doing those things because I wasn't alone. My boyfriend was over, and we were going to go out together, so I didn't have time for any fun and games. In case you haven't figured it out yet, blabber mouth, that means he was waiting while I was showering. He got to listen to your whole long winded message, while you were leaving it! This is almost as good as the time you flashed your tits out of our bedroom window in high school, and it was my boyfriend out there in the dark who had been throwing pebbles at the window! He played the whole thing back for me as soon as I got out of the shower. We listened to it twice, and we're sure that you had one finger on your clit the whole time you were talking. You did so much heavy breathing we thought you were trying out for a phone-sex line or something. Maybe I could just forward the tape to 1-900-CUM-TALK for you... Anyway, enough about you. There I was sitting on the edge of the bed. My hair was all turbaned up in this big fluffy white towel, and I was wearing that bright yellow silk lounger with the green dragon on it that I found in Vancouver when I went back home last year. So he, meaning my boyfriend, for sisters with short attention spans, gets behind me on the bed and offers to help me dry my hair. Fine, so I lean my head back and plant my arms behind me and he takes down my hair and starts towelling it dry. This felt really nice, almost as nice as being shampooed by somebody else, which I'm sure you agree, is incredibly sexy and its a terrible waste that all these hunky hairdresser types could do your hair and not have the slightest interest in your pussy. It would make it a much better deal if they went down on you as long as they were going to charge $130 for taking off two inches of hair. I digress. I was quite aware that sitting like this, I had my tits sticking out in front of me like I was so proud of winning a 4H contest with them or something. I doubt this was lost on my quick witted boyfriend. Not that I mind showing off for him. It felt kind of nice, nipples waving in the air, all puckered and hard. Kneeling behind me on the bed, he had a great view, and I'm sure was enjoying every minute of it. So when I took the towel from him and leaned forward to dry my hair the other way, with it falling over in front of me, I wasn't too suprised that he just pulled the lounger back and started playing with my boobs as they half swung in front of me. I just held my elbows out to give him a little room and kept towelling away. His hands crept around me and slid under my tits, lifting them away and pulling a little on them. They flowed over his warm hands and flopped back against my chest with a little slap. He did this a few times then squashed them against me and grabbed my nips and squeezed really hard. I almost dropped the towel it felt so good. I just sat there with my elbows on my knees, enjoying it. This was one of those times that some channel opens between your boobs and your pussy and everything he does up there feels like its happening down there too. I'm sure you know what I mean. It usually happens for me when he's biting my nipple and he pulls it slowly between his teeth, feels like my clit is getting sucked at the same time. Well, he was wriggling my nips around, pinching them, with my tits pressed against my ribcage. What a feeling. I felt myself getting warm all over, and I smelled my pussy like it was starting to steam or something. He took his hands off my tits and I thought oh well partys over, back to being a good girl, so I started towelling again. But my boobs were all swollen now and my pussy smell was getting stronger. I slid the towel over my boobs a few times to see if that relieved the tension I was feeling, but it made matters worse instead of better. He was gonna pay for this. Maybe I'd wear no panties, and make sure he knew it, and make him tramp around art galleries all afternoon with me, and slap his hand away every time he tried to grab me. I'd bend over and flash him from across the room, but not let him touch me when he was right next to me. That'd serve him right for getting me hot and bothered. While I was thinking of revenge, I didn't notice that he had slipped the belt of my lounger out of its loopholes. The next thing I know, he reached around me and passed it across my tummy. The warm yellow silk suprised me, a querying "Hey?!" escaped my lips. He rubbed the sash side to side across my belly. With each pass it slid upwards slightly, soon he had caught my breasts up in a silken sling, one that rubbed back and forth across them. Varying the angle or tension of the sash, he could press my tits against my chest, or let the yellow silk barely kiss my nipples. He could catch one or the other or both of my boobs, and make the silk pass under or over the other as it slid. After I got over my suprise, I just let myself get into the feeling of the silk stroking my skin. I was getting really wet. I wondered what it would feel like to have that kind of silky stroking on my pussy, if I stood up and he passed the belt between my legs. I imagined pulling the silk belt through my scratchy dark patch of pussy hair and over my pussy lips and across my ass cheeks. Not pressing it down so hard that it split my lips open and dived into the slick little pussy crack or slipped between my ass cheeks. Not right away. No, just glide over the outside and let the pull get transmitted inward by all the layers sliding one on the other. Yes, that would be nice, all those juicy folds rubbing back and forth, massaging each other and the little clit inside them all. He stopped. I was thinking, here's my chance, I'll just sit on my knees on the bed and he can pass the belt under me and give me a cunt rub like I had just been fantasizing about. He had other ideas. He dropped the belt across my legs, then reached down and took hold of my forearms. I started to struggle, but he was practically lying on me, above and behind me. I was helpless, I couldn't stop him from pulling my arms behind me. Not that he was rough, just very firm, like he had something in mind and wanted to have it happen just like he planned it. Picking the belt up again, he put it to my face. The yellow silk passed across my eyes like a blindfold, around and across my lips like a gag, tied in the back. He lifted my arms and tied my wrists with the ends, so they were held close to my neck, my arms up and around my head. My hair was still pushed over my head in front of me, now he scooped it up and brought it back over my head, hiding the knot in the silk belt. My head fell back as it had before, but this time I couldn't support myself with my arms. I had to arch my back even more to stay upright, and my tits stood out even more prominently than they had before. He had never tied me up before. We had talked about it once, I remember telling him it gave me a little thrill to think about it. Well now I was doing it, and the thrill was intense. I'm sure I could have pulled everything off if I had cared to, I still felt safe. But I was also very hot. The sudden thrust of my breasts forward unleashed a flood of juice in my pussy. I wanted to be taken, to cry tears of pleasure while floating in a yellow silk world, to scream as loudly as I cared to into the silk barrier at my mouth. Bondage was the freedom to feel as intensely as I wanted, to let it happen to me with the last strand of control washed away and forgotten. Your other senses are, indeed, clearer when you cannot see. I felt the shifting of the bed beneath me and knew he was moving off the bed to stand in front of me. I heard the rustle and scrape of hands and cloth and knew he was stripping. I felt his heat fill the space between my legs and bring my own smell more powerfully to my nose. Still he hadn't touched me. The blood in my temples pounded underneath the yellow silk as I anticipated his touch. I heard him wet his lips, and felt his mouth on my nipple. He started to suck and I twisted, thrusting my breast into his mouth. I moaned behind my gag, deep. He sucked greedily, taking me into his mouth, tongue swirling around my nipple. Backing off a bit, he pressed my nipple against the roof of his mouth and sucked the way a baby does, but with the force of a man. You know one time when Aunt Patty came to visit us with her new baby? It was when we were about 15. She was nursing it. Well one day we were talking, sitting in the living room and I asked if I could hold him and she said yes, but you'll have to give him back if he wakes up and wants to be fed. So I held him and we talked some more, and then Mom called Aunt Patty into the kitchen for something. I was looking down at the baby's little face when I saw him start to pucker and suck. He was starting to fidget and kick. I figured why bother Aunt Patty, and anyway I wonder how it feels? So I lifted my tee shirt and slipped out my boob and just turned his little face a bit so he faced into my nipple. Well as soon as his lips touched me he slurped my tit up as fast as he could. His mouth was wet and warm, and his toothless gums worked against my nipple while he suckled. I must have gasped, maybe it was the first time I had ever felt that open channel between breast and pussy. I was being instantly turned on by this child at my breast. I didn't know what to do, sitting there in the living room, Mom and Aunt Patty chatting in the kitchen, getting so hot from the sucking of a baby. The baby solved the problem by crying over not getting any milk from me. I pulled my tit away and pulled down my shirt. As Aunt Patty came in from the kitchen, I practically jumped up and pushed the baby into her arms. "He's hungry," I said, almost over my back as I ran up the stairs to our bedroom. I shut the door and fell on the bed, worming my jeans off. I reached up under my shirt and started pinching my nipple while I dug my other hand into my pussy. I was so wet already, I came pretty quick. But I digress. While he sucked me I felt his hands start to stroke my pussy. Just a tender carress, ruffling through my pussy hair. He was teasing me, knowing everything was making me hotter and hotter. He stopped sucking and moved away, I heard him rummaging on my dressing table. I felt him return to his position between my legs, I wondered what was next for me. He gave my nips a last kiss, then started to rub them with something. Something rough and smooth, like a string - that was it - my old leather boot lace! It had been lying here discarded after the end had broken. He turned it around my nipple in a loop, then I felt him turn the end under the loop to make a knot. In the moment he hesitated before tightening it, I tried to anticipate what it would feel like. Then he pulled the ends apart, and the loop took hold of my nipple. It was like a steady bite. I felt my pulse throbbing in my nipple. He pulled the knot slowly off, lifting my boob by the nipple until the leather loop slid free. He tied my other nipple, a little tighter, then also pulled it off. Then he tied both nipples tight, one with each end of the leather lace. Each of my nips gave a little pulse of pleasure every time my heart beat. I felt my pussy juice trickling out of me, threatening to wet my asshole. Suddenly, I felt him begin to gently massage my pussy. He must have had a hair brush in each hand, and was very gently using them on my pussy. I wanted him to have as much room as possible, so I fell back on the bed and let my legs flop open. My tits would normally have slid outwards but the bond holding my nipples held them in place. He used the brushes on my thighs, letting them trail along my skin from inside my knees down to my pussy. After a while he laid the brushes on the floor and rolled me over, so that my ass was sticking up in the air. Now my tits swung free beneath me. He got up and rummaged again, this time in my nightstand, where I kept my vibrator. I don't use my little tool for anything fancy, I just lay it close alongside my clit and let it buzz until I'm stuck to the ceiling. He had other plans. He knelt beside me on the bed. He opened my sweaty palm, and I felt him squeeze some KY jelly into my hand. He made it squish all around in my hand til my fingers and palm were covered. Behind my head, I heard him turn the vibrator on, the buzz sent a little thrill right through me. He touched the head of the vibrator to my palm, then closed my fingers around the sex toy. He made it fuck my lubricated hand, making sure the whole length of it got slick. Then he clicked it off and withdrew it. Opening my hand, he scraped some of the remaining jelly off with his finger. He slid off the bed and stood behind me. I knew from the moment he took that extra lube on his finger that the viberator was meant for my asshole. I''ve never taken anything up my ass before. He slicked me up on the outside with his finger. He turned on the vibrator again, and touched its head to my asshole. I groaned into the gag on my mouth. While he played with the toy around my hole I willed myself to relax, to accept the amazing new feelings he was giving me. Finally, he centered the head of it over my hole and started to gently press into me. After a moments panic I relaxed again, and took the buzzing head of it. It wasn't cock shaped, just a simple hard white plastic wand, so it had no flared head that needed forcing. Well, Dee Dee, what can I say? I got my ass fucked with a vibrator and I loved it. You've probably never done it either, but I strongly recommend taking some quiet, tender moment between you and that stud of yours, and enhancing it by taking your vibe, slicking it up, and put it in his hands with the words "fuck my tight little ass" whispered in his ear. I got really vocal as he opened me with it, I think he got scared he was hurting me. I think I reassured him when I rocked my hips to meet his rhythm, taking more and more of it. Its a different kind of filled up feeling than when you get fucked, but still very exciting. He never went very fast, just eased it in and out. He took his other hand and played with my clit. I came right away, white hot. I could feel the vibe slide out of me as I came, it was just an incredible feeling. I turned over, kind of exhausted, but still very aroused. He put away all the toys, sat on the bed next to me and undid all the knots and pulled the sash away from my face. As soon as I was free I pulled his head down to me and kissed him really hard. I reached down between his legs for his cock and led it very willingly into my pussy. I was crazy for his cock inside me, I wanted it all, as hard and as fast as he could give it to me. There was something very satisfying about getting fucked after having the vibe in my ass. I was so happy making love to him, I felt two wonderful orgasmic waves wash over me before he came. We just lay there afterwards, cooling off. I felt like the building could have burned down around me and I still wouldn't have been able to move. When we felt like moving again I told him he had ruined all my plans for the day, because I thought that he was just going to tease me. I told him about my diabolical plan to get back at him by flashing him as we ignored pompous works of art offered for sale at ridiculous prices. He said it still sounded good to him. So I got up and dressed in a nice short skirt that I could lift or lower quickly and we headed out. To minimize interference we chose the most dreadful boring art we could find, and then ignored it while playing peek-a-boo. I got him so hot and bothered that when we got back to my apartment we stopped on the second landing in the stairwell and started screwing right there. I heard a door open from higher up almost as soon as he got inside me, so we stopped and ran for the apartment. When we got inside we slammed the door and started screwing again as fast as we could. It was great, humping away in the living room. Well, enough about me. Like I said, get thee to a vibrator, and have some fun. And don't forget to tell your sister all about it if you do! Woke Up This Morning by Deidre Ng Dear Tammy, The answering machine wars are over. I surrender unconditionally in the face of your superior erotic firepower. From now on I will conduct a guerilla resistance movement via e-mail. I'm so glad to hear that you enjoyed getting a vibrator up your ass. Really, it made my day. What a coincidence that we have the same kind. Maybe it has something to do with me always finding _my_ vibrator hidden in _your_ pile of underwear at home. Or perhaps with the time you gave my high school boyfriend three quarters of a hand job before you realized you had pounced on the wrong half of a double date. This is a warning, Tammy. The past is a messy place, not to mention hot and sticky in places. There's lots we can tease each other about, so tread lightly. I'm still trusting you that you put his dick back in his pants ( your version ) instead of blowing him ( his version ). I shouldn't have to say this to a sister as eroticly minded as you, but have you thought about turning the tables on your sweetie and giving _him_ the vibe up _his_ ass? Perhaps while he's on all fours and his cock is fucking your mouth and you've got your other hand teasing his balls? My prediction: dramatically shorter time to orgasm for the big stud. If you can't guess what I base my prediction on, you are utterly clueless. Spring for another and you could 69 with Mr. Manflesh while you both gave it to each other two ways at once. I think this called 138, but I'm not sure. And don't even think of asking to borrow mine, now that I've suggested this to you... There were times, when we lived at home together, that you would get up first so that you could claim the shower. That was really nice of you, because then I could lie in bed and wake myself up by making myself come ever so slowly. One slow moving hand, and a dream of a man's face between my legs, tongue moving in slow circles on my clit. I had your shower timed pretty well so that you'd come back into our bedroom towelling your hair just after I'd curled up in a post orgasmic ball. I'd hear the water shut off and know it was time to bring on my climax. Well, I was practicing my slow hand this morning, and I didn't hear the water turn off, so my boyfriend walked in on me with my legs up and one hand curled behind my head and the other one deep in a really sticky place. I was whimpering, because I was really close, and I think he got to watch me for maybe ten seconds before I caught on that he was standing next to the bed. I looked up at him and smiled. And then I closed my eyes again, because I was coming. It's not so strange for him to watch me come. He likes to watch. He says it helps him know what I like. But I always knew he was watching, before this morning. I think today was the first time he ever saw me without a shadow of a doubt unselfconciously pleasuring myself. Not that I think it was so different, but there was something to the moment. He knows what my fantasy is, that it's a man sucking me that makes me come. It used to be a pretty generic fantasy, but now its him between my legs when I come. He knows that too. So there I was, kind of floating back to down to earth, when I felt him kiss my sticky fingers. It was so perfect, I just moaned and squirmed a little, and moved my fingers aside to let him kiss me directly on the clit. He followed my fingers, and licked the juice off them, before turning back to my pussy. In the middle he let me turn over, and press my pussy down on his face. I love this so much, it always makes me come fast. When I came, I lay down on top of him, his erection between us. After I caught my breath I asked him if he wanted to be inside me. He just smiled, which I took for a yes, so I picked myself up and eased him in. Even though I was on top, he did most of the moving. Soon I was getting shot full of his come. He sucked my breasts while I kissed the top of his head. I sat up with him inside me, looked down at him, and smiled. He motioned for me to turn around, so I slid him out of me and turned around on top of him. We licked each other off, all the love juices mixed together, him probing with his tongue deep into my pussy, my lips spread wide on his face, me taking all of his now limpid cock into my mouth. He said later that seeing me so aroused made him instantly erect, especially that I had looked right at him and then slipped into the possession of my orgasm. The way my eyes had closed as my eyeballs rolled back and my back arched against the coming seizure, he said it was perfect. I was 45 minutes late to the office, but as we stood on the subway into Manhattan I held him close, and thought that he was pretty close to perfect, too. In Your Mouth and Mine by Tammy Ng Dear Deidre, I am shocked, _shocked_ to hear that you are so knowlegable about men and anal stimulation. Not that you know so much, no no, that you've held out on me for so long that's the shocking thing. I'm sure you're right, though. The faintest little scratch with my fingernail gets him moaning. Maybe sometime right after I've broken one I'll file it all the way down and then suprise him with a little greased lightning. If he likes it I'll try your vibe suggestion. I'll tread lightly in the past if you do, sister. Your boyfriend was quite familiar with blowjobs, if I recall correctly. When I walked in on you a week before, it was my bed he was leaning back on, while you gave it to him mouthwise. I didn't say a word except to ask you to change my sheets for me, that night before we went to sleep. What I saw in that second was a big part of my fantasy life until I screwed up the courage to take my own guy in the mouth. I had had my hands around his cock before then, but to see you kneeling in front of him, his cock all wet maybe halfway down... I think I saw just one full stroke, one bob of your head down onto his tool and back, before I stepped back and shut the door again. I ran to the bathroom and locked the door and sat down on the toilet, shaking. Had I really seen you taking all that in, had I really heard a little gurgle of pleasure slip from your throat? I thought about it over and over. I thought about it as I slipped my panties down around my ankles. I thought about it as I lifted my skirt. As I started to touch myself I thought that you were the luckiest girl on earth, because at that moment down the hall from me, you had a cock sliding almost down your throat and you were soon going to be tasting him like I had never dared to dream of. I put my juice on my lips and ran my finger around my half open mouth, wishing I was smelling a cock under my nose. I wanted my mouth to stretch like yours around a man's shaft. Most of all I wanted him to come in my mouth, to taste him suddenly. I licked two fingers and slid them over my clit, spreading my lips with my other hand. One finger on each side, hood pulling back a bit each time I stroked myself, wet, so wet, imagining a cock in my mouth. I imagined you two kissing, standing, and you stroking the fabric of his jeans. You fumble with the zipper while your tongues dance, put your hand inside and squeeze him through his briefs. He undoes his belt and his jeans fall to the floor, you slide your hand under the elastic and work the briefs off him. His cock pops out and you take it in your hand. You stop kissing long enough to wet your hand, especially your thumb and index finger. You go back to kissing him, but now you're pumping his cock with your wet hand, wet tight circle of thumb and finger. Maybe he steps back and sit on the edge of my bed and pulls you down to kneel between his legs, and presses your head onto his cock. Maybe you push him back, and he lands on my bed suprised, because today a handful of cum just won't satisfy you. The second possibility makes me hotter, my pussy twitches each time I imagine the first stroke of your head down his cock, his strangled moan. You stop and look up at him and put you finger to your lips, and then the sign for quiet dissolves as you lick your finger and slide it down the split in his cock head, down over the sensitive folds of skin beneath, and then take him again in your mouth. Up and down, sucking and licking, catch your breath and then take him again, hurrying now, you don't want to miss the moment he explodes in you. Circling my clit with two fingers, faster and faster, I thought about your boy friend coming in your mouth over and over until I came, sitting there on the toilet, down the hall from my sister and her boyfriend making love. >From then on, I always got really wet thinking about it, what I saw in that instant, it was what I thought about most often when I wanted to come. I fantasized that I actually saw him coming in your mouth, saw the white semen slipping out around your lips as you continued to slide down his shaft after he came, the flow of it filling your mouth. I fantasized that he saw me at the door and invited me in to finish him, and that you had to stand there watching while I brought him to a tremendous climax, and I got to feel the rush of cum down my throat. Such are the dreams of little girls too scared to do it yet themselves, so envious of their sisters who have crossed over farther into womanhood. I know that knowing this probably doesn't make you feel any better about that double date. But would I tell you this if what I said wasn't true? I had his cock in my hand, yes. You don't know how much I wanted to go down on him, even after he called me by your name, and I knew that in the dark I had unzipped the wrong fly. I've got to take a big breath before I write this, and I don't know if you'll ever understand why its so important to me. The thing that got to me the most, that day, was your hair. Was it hot that day, did he think it was cute, did you? You had your hair up in pigtails as you sucked him. FUCKING PIGTAILS! You looked like a little girl, like you had never even had your first period! Like you were younger than I was, and you had a man in your mouth already! I'm crying. I hope you're happy. Bitch. Crying all over the Internet because of you giving your boyfriend a blowjob with your hair up in pigtails. Well, enough of true confessions. Its later and I reread what I wrote and I'll let it stand. Just so there's nothing between us. I still love you. Just to stay on topic, as they say, I like my boyfriend in the face as much as he'll give it to me. I like to take him real slow, wrap my hands around him, suck his cock head as tight as I can. Lick him like a lollipop, let him watch my tongue move around. I love that first little taste of him. He's usually fucking my mouth pretty hard when I notice it, I'm concentrating on staying with his rhythm. not getting choked, not letting him slip away. I breath and its there. Pretty soon it'll be stronger. Now its just the slightest salty taste, like the taste of an ocean breeze. Sometimes I can go to the beach, face out to sea and breathe deep, and suddenly get so wet, because the ocean reminds me of his taste. It's that first little taste that makes me get into sucking him like crazy. I wish I could come from blowing him, then. But its rewarding enough to take his climax bye and bye, when he fills me up and my mouth overflows. Some I swallow, some dribbles away, sliding over my chin and down my neck, between my boobs. Sometimes he paints my lips with it, and I sit panting, tongue going round and round in a circle, following his cock. At least, that's how it was this morning. As I've Seen by Deidre Ng Dear Tammy, Thank you for your last note, for _everything_ you wrote. It's strange how an incident can gain such importance for one person, yet another barely remembers what happened. I do remember that day, getting frisky with my boyfriend up in our bedroom, going down on him. At the time I remember being scared/excited about taking the risk of blowing him in our house. I don't think either of us ever noticed that you caught a glimpse of our fun. I'm sorry if you felt hurt, but it sounds like you felt more hot than hurt! One day I was eating lunch at the South Street Seaport, Pier 17. I had a table on the third floor, in the big open area at the end of the pier. I was on the north side, right against the glass wall of the building. I sat there because I love the view of the Brooklyn Bridge. Little did I know there was another view to be had from that seat. If you looked down, you saw into a stairwell on the outside of the building, which apparently was something of a lovers lane. That day I happened to look down, because I dropped my soda straw. I looked under the table to retreive it and out the window caught two lovers in the act. They were both Wall Street types, suits and such. She had a brown overcoat (it was March), and underneath what looked like a standard Evan Picone corporate ensemble. Short brown hair, kinda perky, a few freckles and a big wide mouth with lots of teeth when she smiled. He was your typical GQ wannabe. When I looked down, Mr. Wannabe had his hand inside her suit, squeezing her breast through the crisp white blouse she was wearing. They were kissing, kisses landing all over each others face and neck and ears. After a particularly long, deep kiss the GQ'er whispered something in her ear. She looked around, over the railing, downward (but not up!). Then she picked up her leg and planted her foot on the lowest crossbar of the railing. As she did, her knee length skirt rode up her thigh. She was wearing white stockings. They were only thigh high! She flipped her overcoat over her exposed leg. GQer's hand dropped out of sight under her dress. I found that I couldn't stop looking. I leaned against the glass wall, sipping my soda, eyes down. I wondered if she was wearing panties. I wondered if anyone else was watching them. I wondered if anyone was watching me. For a few moments nothing happened, or seemed to happen. They kissed, lips swiftly opening and closing on each other. Then just as the came together in a kiss, the woman's face flowered into a huge smile. I imagined that either he had conquered some impediment to touching her, or had quit teasing her and decided to pleasure her in earnest. From then on they stopped kissing. Their faces hovered close to each other, I'm sure they could feel each others breath. I could follow the progress of her lovers hand by the expression on her face. That and the knowlege of exactly how it would feel, how it did feel, to stand with one leg out and have your lover's hand move, carress, plunge and tease. She smiled. Her eyes closed. She said something, and the tip of her tongue ran around her lips. She shifted her stance slightly and bit her lip. The smile never left her face. All of a sudden she gasped, her back arched and then relaxed. Had he just penetrated her? Had he just exposed her clit, touching it directly for the first time? I couldn't tell. My own pussy was wet, that I knew, wet through to my panties already. I could feel myself throbbing, and each twitch of her face I found myself copying. I jumped a little when she gasped, and as her mouth fell open, so did mine. The only difference was that her eyes were closed and mine were wide open. Her legs were open and mine were shut, and I was squeezing my thighs together as I watched. He brought his hand out of her skirt, and waved his fingers under her nose. She caught the middle one in her mouth, licked it, sucked it, tasted whatever scent it carried of her own pussy. She made it drip with her saliva and he took it back, making it disappear between her legs. Her face was a mask of anticipation. I knew he had found his place again, wetter now, slicker now. Her head began to tilt back, but her jaw held still, and her mouth opened wider and wider. Her back arched, she was looking straight up. If she hadn't been blinded by the sun and passion, she would have seen me, watching her ratchet closer and closer to her climax. She was trembling. Her whole jaw was taut. Just her lower lip was quivering, pulling tighter and tighter. I knew she must be feeling the aura of her climax approaching, the premonition of ecstasy. Her hips wanted to thrust, she wanted to throw her legs open, but given her standing position, she could only satisfy that need by slowly rotating her hips around the axis of his hand. Suddenly she pitched forward, her face landing on his shoulder. A look that could be mistaken for pain flickered across her features, mistaken perhaps if you didn't know what an orgasm felt like. She lay her head on his shoulder as her whole body twitched for a while longer. I thought I saw little tears collect in the corner of her eye. My own pussy was drenched, tight, pulsing, I could feel my pusle in my throat, my nipples pushing hard against my bra. She pulled the hair out of her face. He wriggled his hand free, which gave her a few aftershocks. My pussy thudded as her lip curled in pleasure. She brought her leg down and smoothed out her skirt, the evidence of thigh high hose and no panties disappearing under the plain corporate exterior. He brought his hand up to her lips again and she kissed his finger and then their tongues were meeting as he held his finger between their mouths, and they both licked up her juices. Then they went away. I got up and staggered back to the office. They could have worked in my building, or any of a hundred buildings in lower Manhattan. Riding the elevator back to my floor, I was sure everyone could smell my pussy. I ducked into the bathroom. In a stall, I stripped off my panties and nylons. I really wanted to touch myself, but I decided to wait til I got home. I hid my bare legs under my desk the whole afternoon. About four o'clock, my boyfriend called. At first it was just details of everyday life, who's going to the cleaners, who's going to the store. The conversation started to drift, until I heard him ask quite casually, "Oh, and would you like me to fuck you when you get home this evening?" My mouth went dry as my pussy went wet. "Sure, sure," I said, "that sounds good, look, I've got to go, sorry to cut you off, but three people are hovering over me waiting for things I'm supposed to be finished with. Bye". I hung up. My secretary cocked her eyebrow at me. I knew he'd be home, waiting for me. I stopped and looked at myself in the mirror as I stepped off the elevator. Our apartment door was open a crack, the light inside spilling into the hallway. It creaked open and I slipped inside, leaning back on it to push it closed. He was sitting at the kitchen table, writing in the checkbook. Leaning against the door, still facing him, I reached over my shoulder and turned the latch, then crooked my finger and beckoned him, smiling. We stood there, kissing. He was a little tentative, he certainly didn't know where I was coming from. As we kissed I lifted my skirt, and holding it up, guided his hand underneath. I felt like a schoolgirl, showing her first boyfriend where she needs him to touch her. His hand fell on my mound of hair. I'm sure he was suprised to find nothing between his fingers and me. He started rubbing my pussy hair, running his fingers through it. We kissed harder, more passionately. His fingers slid around my lips, massaging me from the outside. I moaned, guttural, and pressed myself backward so that I could turn my legs out as much as I could. He gave me his finger to suck. I knew he would split my lips open with it, unfold me, reveal me. I gave him a good sucking, and waited for his touch. He reached far under me. Starting from the back he parted my cunt lips. As soon as he pressed them apart they spread open, his finger dipped into my pussy, gathering more moisture. Sliding slowly forward, lubricating as he went, I flowered at his touch. My clit practically leapt to meet his finger when it finally arrived at the forward end of my slit. My nipples throbbed as he worked around my clit with his finger, gently stroking the shaft, applying the lightest touch to the head. I whimpered. Very reluctantly, I pulled his hand away. I brought it back up to my mouth. His finger was thick with my juice, my smell. I licked it up. Then I put his three middle fingers in my mouth at once and sucked them, rolled them with my tongue, made them heavy with my saliva. He knew what I was getting at. Slipping them from my mouth, he moved them back down to my cunt. Now his hand slid backward, over my clit, along my folds and vallies, to the tender pink depths of my pussy. One by one his fingers slipped inside me. I groaned, let go of my skirt and put my hands behind my head. He pressed his fingers deeper, and I met his pressing with a thrust of my hips. I felt a strong contraction in the walls of my pussy, a wave of ecstasy spread out from between my legs. He had needed the saliva just at first to penetrate me. Now my juice was washing over him, I could hear the wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out as he fucked me with his hand. For leverage he put the base of his palm just above my clit, in my pussy hair. As he pushed and pulled with his fingers I felt the tug in my clit as well. My hips were thrashing. I reached around his head to kiss him. Our mouths met, but mine hung half open. I was rapidly approaching climax. He pressed hard against the front wall of my pussy as his fingers slid wildly in and out. My pussy pulsed around him and I came, jerking forward with the same motion as I had seen done by the woman in the stairwell, earlier that day. Maybe my face carried the same look. He did fuck me, later. He picked me up and carried me to the bedroom and lay me down on the bed, still in my business clothes. He put me on all fours and lifted my skirt. I reached through my legs and felt his cock, wet it with my spit and guided it in. It felt very erotic, getting fucked in my clothes. From behind he gets so deep, deeper than any other position. We got moving together and he fingered my ass, til I exploded. He came with me, gasping and crying from the force of it. We rested with him deep inside me, his cock twitching as the last threads of cum spilled out. So, you see I've had my own voyeuristic experience. I wish I could meet that woman, and thank her. Thank goodness, we both have lovers. Here's how each couple met. Sisters Ng: Tammy Seduces Her Boyfriend by Tammy Ng Dear Dee-Dee, I'm glad to hear that there are no hard feelings, except those of our boyfriends. Thank you for your last message, now I know where to meet you for lunch! Once I was in a cafeteria at school and I saw a girl standing near the salad bar. She was holding a carrot stick in her hand. I saw her look across the room and catch someones eye, then she licked the carrot like she was going to go down on it. I couldn't pick out who she was trying to turn on, probably her boyfriend. Did I ever tell you how I met my boyfriend? I think all I've said before is that we met in a photography class. There is slightly more to the story than that, as you might expect. I always looked for cute guys in my classes, it was such a natural way to meet. You always had something in common, and if you really got along, pulling an all nighter became an appealing double entendre. So there I was in Photo 12something. It was meeting in this big auditorium, and kids sat all over, about one per row. The first week I spotted this guy, cute, brown hair, glasses. Second week, I sit in his row. Third week, I get there early, he has to say excuse me and squeeze past to get to his seat. I smile. He smiles. He blushes. This guy is shy. I say, gee we have the same camera body (Nikon, so does the rest of the class). What lenses does he have? Filters? Maybe we could do the next assignment together and swap equipment. OK. The prof announces our next assignment, playgrounds. Yuk. We spend three hours waiting for something interesting to happen at a local nursery school. The kids go home. I say how about you take me playing with all these kid toys? I act like a fool, goofing around on the swings, slide, etc. while he snaps away. At least it breaks the ice. Next week, we do trees together. Next week, and I lean over and whisper in his ear before the prof announces the assignment, "Together, right?" He nods OK. Prof clears throat, announces topic: underwear. I was sure he wouldn't show up. The appointed hour silently becomes now, and now passes. There is a knock. Yes, its him! Big smile, come in, of course, don't be silly, I'm always late myself. We took our cameras and stuff into my bedroom. He said he really had no idea what to do, how did I want to do this? I said I had some ideas, but I couldn't be behind the lens and in front of it at the same time. Would he shoot for me? He says yes. I started by the window, next to my bed. Strong sidelight, I looked away at nothing. I was wearing jeans and a button down flannel top (it was already November). First I pulled the shirttails out, and unbuttoned all the buttons, then rebuttoned the top one. We did shots revealing various amounts of bra. Just a plain white bra. More shots, me kneeling on the bed, shirt off my shoulders. I look down, right, left, up, is he even noticing me? I say I want to change bras. He says ok, he won't look. He's not getting it. I open my drawers, searching for the right bra. Maybe its with the matching panties? I try that drawer. He comes over, looks over my shoulder. Are those all mine, he says? He's staring at two drawers stuffed to overflowing with the necessities of womanhood, underwear in every possible shade and hue. He says, My sister has bras and panties, I did the wash at home, and I saw them. They were all white. Like guy underwear. This is incredible. He laughs. Its a beautiful, mischievous laugh, full of wonder at the world. I want to jump him right there. I shot for you he says, will I model for him? He's nervous, almost back in his shell, I'll do anything to keep him from retreating. Of course, I'll be his model. He had me strip out of my jeans and lie on the bed. White bra, white panties and me. How much of me was he seeing? Was this still just an assignment for him? I thought he might take some shots of me, soft porn like. He asked me to spread eagle on the bed. I complied. He turned and pulled the drawer with my bras in it completely out of the dresser. Carrying it to the bed, he turned it over and dumped the entire drawerful on my chest. Then he turned and got the other drawer and dumped out all the panties across my stomach and hips. Then he started to take pictures. Of course I saw them later, these hilarious pictures of me buried under mountains of undergarments. He stood me up and decorated me like a Christmas tree, snapped my bras together and garlanded me with them. He dressed a chair in my stuff, stretching my panties so that the front legs the chair went through the leg holes, pulling them up around the seat. He draped various bras across the back, and I held up a big white sheet for a backdrop. He took several like that, when he looked at me again, the shyness coming back. Would I do something else? Of course. He took the panties off the front legs of the chair, and fitted them to the back legs, with the front panel of the panties facing backwards. He picked up the bra and reversed it also, so the cups bowed out with the curve of the chair back. "Now I want you to sit in it," he said. I was still in my white bra and panties. I sat facing the camera, chair back between my legs. He looked at me. I thought I knew what he wanted, a shot where the clothes on the chair kind of shadowed or overlay the right parts of my body. He bit his lip. "Um, could you perhaps take off the uh.." Now I got the picture. For this shot it would look best if I had nothing on, and the clothes were worn by the chair. I reached behind me and unclipped the bra. As the cups slid off, my nipples stood up like rocks, was he noticing? I wanted to touch them, but restrained myself. I got off the chair and pulled off the briefs, did he watch my tits swing? Sitting down, I caught a whiff of myself. I wondered if he could smell me too. He was looking through the lens, setting up the shot. >From just off center, the shot would show me, my breasts hanging just behind the bra. Looking, looking, focus. Without moving from behind the camera, squinting into the rangefinder, he said, "I don't know if you know it, but you're really beautiful." Click. All of a sudden I know it, and feel it. Feeling beautiful feels like you know a secret and the secret is he likes you. Feeling beautiful feels like a sudden rush of sunlight into a November afternoon. Feeling beautiful feels like a blushing warmth creeping across your chest and being suddenly wet in a private place and wanting to cradle his head against your chest and take him into your private place and let him make it his place, let him mark you as his, just as he has marked you as beautiful. "You can put your stuff back on, um...," he trailed off, no longer looking through the lens. "I don't think that will be necessary." I got up and sat on the bed, clearing a space amid the strewn clothes. I knelt, near the edge, and he sat opposite me. "Look," I said. "I'm just plain Tammy Ng when I look in the mirror. Hang around girls much and you'll find out very few of us has a great self image. I would love to hear you call me beautiful again. I would love for you to look straight at me and say I'm beautiful. But I'm warning you, I'm already very attracted to you. Saying I'm beautiful is only going to make things worse for you." He leaned forward, and looked me straight in the eye. "Tammy Ng, you're beautiful." I looked at him. He was smiling from ear to ear. "You know, I was just thinking," I said, "I think we just said that we like each other, and I don't know how you would feel about this, but I'm a girl and I'm naked and I'm sitting on this bed, see, so I was wondering if it would feel at all natural to you, at this moment, to well, what I'm really saying is that I wouldn't mind if you wanted to perhaps..." "Kiss you?" "For a start." He started. We kissed, him standing, me kneeling on the bed. He was leaning towards me and only out lips met. I got butterflies, kissing him. I got wetter, kissing him. "You could touch me, too, y'know" "I have your permission?" "I'm about to demand it." "But I like tasting you." "Then I'm going to demand that you taste me, please. There's nothing I'd like better than for you to taste me everywhere and anywhere you want, but I might point out that some parts of Tammy Ng taste better than others, and other parts of Tammy Ng are just about screaming to be tasted, and there's a special on breasts in the appetizing department, if you'd like to..." His tongue flicked my right nipple. My hands came up and I held my tits up and out to him. "Yes, that felt so good, just suck me please, I'd really love to feel ..." but I was already feeling it as he bit me lightly at the base of my nipple and ran his teeth lightly up and pulled it softly with his lips. At that point we went completely non-verbal, though not non-vocal. He kissed me everywhere that counted. He touched me, everywhere, too. He wouldn't even take his clothes off until I scrabbled through the heap of clothes that was now on the floor to find the condom I kept with my panties. Then I stripped him and made him lie down and stroked his cock a few times and kissed him there and then I couldn't wait and I rolled the sheath down around him. Straddling him, I led him into me. We were both so excited, it went very quickly, that first time. Oh, and the photo assignment? I took some shots of him in his jockey shorts, making these hokey muscleman poses, and my vibrator sticking out the leghole. Very funny, but don't ask, the shots from that day got shown to the professor, who graded them excellent, and now nobody sees them but us. Sisters Ng: The Seduction of Deidre by Deidre Ng Dear Tammy, Why am I not amazed that the first thing you do with this guy when you get him alone is to take off all your clothes, stick out your tits, and start purring about how much you need him! Thank goodness the demure, chaste Tammy I grew up with has not changed. The Tammy that joined the Tennis Club because she thought mixed doubles applied to the shower room also. The Tammy who tried out for Glee Club for amazingly misguided reasons. The Tammy who majored in Fine Arts, Performance her entire freshman year until she found out that the performance of her finest art was not something they gave diplomas for. And you had already prepped for the Orals! This guy had no chance. But it looks like your incredible restraint paid off, because I have to admit that he seems quite a catch. I always got wet for the shy ones, too. Maybe its that we see them as a challenge. Maybe we're betting that performance is inversley related to braggadaccio, which seems to be true for you two. You're last couple posts to me must have been measureable on the Richter scale. Geologists want to set up seismographs in your building, they say your bedroom has been at the epicenter of a series of small earthquakes. But I'm not faulting your relationship, just because it got started with a strip tease and sex acts involving furniture. I just know thats how you are. I, on the other hand, was seduced. When I came to New York I knew noone. I had a crappy job, crappy apartment. My right hand woke me up in the morning and my vibrator helped me go to sleep at night. It was survival, but just barely. After a while I changed jobs, got a new apartment, one where the sun came in big south facing windows in both the bedroom and the living room. I had been working at Mumble, Bumble & Co. for about three years. I'd made some friends. But the male scene was the pits. Jewish boys that left you for Buddhist monasteries. Lawyers that would interrupt sex for incoming faxes. Dolts that brought a bottle of wine on a first date and drank it all themselves, that felt their drunkeness gave them rights to your body. Nice guys that are lots of fun, that said no when I offered that maybe they'd like to sleep over. I was convinced that I was never to meet a stable sensitive man anywhere in New York. During this period I was chummy with a guy at work. He was quiet, unassuming, easy to talk to. I never thought of him as a guy I should make a move on, I thought he was out of my league. We talked a lot, he asked me how it was going on the boyfriend front, I'd tell him all my trials and tribulations. Once I was sitting in his office and I told him how I had gone out with this lawyer, we got along, nice dinner, nice conversation, back to his place, kissing on the couch, I called time out, I didn't want to take my clothes off on the first date. Well he called me back, what should I do? He buzzed his secretary and asked her to come in and close the door. Turning to her he said, "Well M., what do you think, should Dee-Dee get laid tonight?" M. was beautiful, always had a bunch of guys hanging around her cubicle drooling. She looked at me and said "If Dee-Dee wants, Dee-Dee gets. Rip his fucking clothes off if you have to." He just nodded his head and smiled. We had gotten along really well for years. Well, they finally installed company wide e-mail one day and to test it I sent him a message, something along the lines of "Now we can send each other e-mail full of double entendres." We sometimes kidded around like that, and sometimes it left me feeling an ache that it took a couple times with the vibrator to work off. He sent back a one liner "It gives new meaning to the computer going down." Cute, but even the tiniest fantasy of him going down on me, and it was vibrator time again. Anyway, that was it until the next afternoon, when my little mailflag went up, and I saw it was from him. Now I'm just going to quote his message whole: Subject: Cashmere It was 11 o'clock, and she was still in her work clothes. She sat on the couch, next to the dozing cat. The news ran on with the sound turned low, letting just a rumour of the world leak into her apartment. She was hungry. Popcorn. The word exploded, and growled her stomach. She got up and went to her tiny kitchen. Take down the box, rip open the plastic, pitch it into the microwave. Wait. Today he said he likes cashmere. It feels wonderful, he said. Why don't they make anything for men that feels that way. He ran the back of his fingers up and down the forearm of her sweater to feel it. Up. And down. Up again. It felt like slow motion, except for the alarm bells going off in her head and her heart going like a race horse. She'd said something witless and political, losing the moment. The first kernel popped. It was, she thought, like the first explosion of desire in a kiss. Followed in its own time by a second and in its own time by a third. And when they came in bunches now, like the tongues still gliding together, but the flush spreading and her nipples hard and feeling him hard against her. And the popcorn climax of individual pops lost in a roar of simultaneous explosion like he was inside her and thrust, thrust, glory, and thrust. She snapped back to the chime of the microwave mixed with the last reluctant explosion from the now swollen bag. She took it out and shook the contents into a big steel mixing bowl from the set nested in the cabinet under the microwave. Filled a glass mug with spring water from the fridge and set it to boil for tea, as she would inevitably be thirsty. At the couch she put down the bowl to divest herself of panties and skirt, having shed the nylons the second she walked in the door. She sat cross-legged, the bowl warm on the inside of her thighs. She stared at the wall a foot above the murmuring television, eating mechanically and thinking about cashmere. She thought, cashmere is made for men, just not for them to wear. Its for women to wear with nothing else and the sleeves bunched up above your elbows and as you lower yourself down and push him just a little farther into you each time, he reaches up beneath your sweater, and the cashmere brushes against your breasts. The soft hair of it clings to your nipples in ten thousand microscopic kisses. As you move it shifts across your body, on your back and shoulders and he presses it to you as you press him into you. She missed her open mouth and the popcorn cascaded down her cashmere sweater. She brushed it off by reaching up underneath the front of her sweater to unhinge the hook of her bra. She pushed the bra aside and felt the kiss of the cashmere harden her nipple. She began to circle her nipple beneath the cashmere in an endless kiss. Her other hand searched for the popcorn that had fallen between her thighs, setting aside the bowl, brushing along the inside of her thighs with the soft sleeve. Pushing through her tangled hair she found the kernel of desire. She began to work twin circles with her fingers, and alternated with strokes that brought her nipple upright and tautened her mound, her fingers plunging deep within her. The water came to a full boil as the machine chimed its joy. She did not hear. Well. My secretary says that she watched me read this that day, and couldn't figure out what I could have been looking at. She said my face got redder and redder and a smile twitched at the corners of my mouth, which was hanging half open. I told her someone sent me a dirty joke via e-mail. She said it must have been a humdinger to make me blush like that. I read it and reread it, then printed it and took it home and sat on the couch with the paper in one hand and no nylons or panties or skirt and between my shirttails my other hand fingering myself. My panties were soaked through when I kicked them off. I lay down with my head on the pillow next to the arm rest, threw one leg up over the back of the couch, let the other flop outward. One wet finger and my lips parted. One finger wet like his tongue, circling slow delicate like his tongue on my clit and I'm already arching my back. Two wet fingers caress each side of my clit, slide the length of my pussy and back, press down and then slightly together to lift my clit a little, its so good. Two fingers are his fingers stroking my clit. Three fingers are wet fingers inside my pussy, pussy sucking at them, licking them like they are his fingers fucking me, his cock working its way into me. Five fingers cupping my whole pussy mound, gently kneading, feeling the juice squish between my lips, spill over my clit I'm coming, base of my palm pressing my clit middle finger slides between Im coming my lips finds my'm coming clit coming clit coming strroke clitcoming cc-clit I lay there trying to catch my breath, waiting for the spasms to pass, feeling the trickle of little tears out of the corner of one eye. I let go the crumpled paper. The tremendous need had passed. Now I could take him slowly, the way he wanted to pleasure me, I knew. My fingers drifted lazily over my thighs. Yes, you can kiss me here, skin I've made smooth for your kiss. Little drops of juice bedewing my hair, I'll collect them for you and tease your tongue with my taste. Would you like to taste me in earnest? Here, let me hold my lips aside, this whole pink fissure is yours to taste. I have coasts and bays that your tongue can swim in, deep water where your tongue can dive and feel oh yes oh please my deep currents, the undertow that grasps and wants to drag you down. And here by the shore, this narrow inlet where the forest marches down to lean out over the waters, this is where the surf rolls and breaks on the sand and a smooth rock protrudes from the sand and the waters caress it and your tongue could lap against it like the waters do. And the air is still and hot over this little cove where your tongue licks over me, still and hot, filled with an insect like buzz of anticipation and I can't hear my own breath I'm not breathing because I'm anticipating that your tongue on the rock of my clit is very soon going to yes oh yes just right oh oh I get up from the couch and lead you by the hand to the bedroom. I take off the rest of my clothes and find my cashmere turtleneck and put it on. I kneel on my bed with a big pillow between my legs, it fills the space that I want you to fill so desparately now. I lean over and pull my vibrator out of the nightstand. KY jelly on the head of it, if it was you I'd suck you to make you wet, just so you part my lips and slide into me, inside me you'll find all the juice you want. I lean forward against the headboard, position the wand between my legs. The head of it parts my lips, getting a little tender there, have to go slow, turn it on, the buzz fills my pussy I suck in my breath and the cashmere rubs against my bared breasts ten thousand microscopic kisses. For a moment both my hands cup my breasts, the cashmere kissing me like you wrote, like you said it would when you made love to me. The fabric catching at my long, erect nipples, fondling me. One arm on the headboard, a place to rest my forehead. One hand reaching back between my legs, keeping the vibrator at just the right angle. Push back, feel it entering like I want you to, a little, a little more. Pussy holding tight to you, reluctant to let you pull away, even as I anticipate your stroke returning, deeper, deeper. Up and down til I have you inside me, my hand on the butt of the vibrator. Now I have you safe inside and I'm going to fuck you easy and slow. I lift and you slide out til the tip tugs at my lips, I let myself down and your shaft disappears inside me, splitting my lips, I feel you filling me. It feels so good, fucking you so slow, so relaxed I want it to last forever even as I feel it building stroke by stroke. Sweat trickling down my back I have to go faster oh yes oh fuck me harder oh fuck me oh yes my hand is following the vibe into my cunt oh make me come fuck me yes your cock is so deep fucking me I forgot to eat supper, but I slept very soundly that night. The next day at work I went to his office as early as I could. "You," I said, "are a very dangerous man." He batted his eyes, affecting a look of total innocence. "You mean you liked it?" Sisters Ng: Tammy Gets Even (Better) by Tammy Ng Dear Dee-Dee, Hi! I'm Tammy, remember me? I'm your sister that you agreed to write erotica with, does that nudge your memory? All right, you didn't see me getting laid, maybe I'm not qualified. Maybe I should claim to be the girl you saw getting fingered in the stairwell, then you'd post my stuff too, right? Let's see if 'Kellie', whoever she is, can write a vibrator story like I did. I dunno. I was trying to broaden our range of discourse. Bring in romance, attempt spoken dialogue, humor even. And what to do I get for my trouble? Tammy Seduces Her Boyfriend, like some sleazy tabloid Rupert Murdoch headline! It obviously doesn't pay to be sensitive, if you are going to sneak in editorial slapstick on the subject line of my posting. From now on, Tammy is writing her own subject lines. To wit: Public Notice to all readers of this letter who aren't older sisters of the poster: If the subject line of this post isn't Tammy Gets Even (Better) please complain to deidreng@aol.com. Now, where was I? It turned out that the first time between my boyfriend and me was his first time, period. I should have been more gentle with him, would have perhaps if I had known. But there I was, naked already, and he was so sweet, telling me how beautiful I was. I was feeling all achy and butterflies and my legs would just not stay closed. Thank goodness I had that condom. He told me as we were lying there. His head was lying on my breast, one arm thrown across me, one knee over my hips. We were drowsing in the afterglow, that time when you don't feel like moving, when its enough to hold him and remember how he filled you, how well you fit together, how you held him as he came and how you made it the best for him you could and it felt so good for you too, stretching, open, feeling his stroke fill you, knowing he was urgent and close. You cradle his head, let him let go inside you, hold him safe til the ecstasy passes. Now you lie as one, drowsing, watching the afternoon pass in the movement of a sunbeam up the wall. "You're the best," he said. "Oh am I," I said, "I'm very flattered." "You're also the worst and the prettiest and the ugliest and the tallest and the shortest." "Am I also first and last and only?" "Yes." "Oh, dear." And I hugged him closer. Your first, I thought. I'm going to have to take extra special care of you. I can feel your fingertips touching my nipple, is this the first time you've done that? Testing its fleshiness, running one finger over the flat top, around the base, watching it spring back as your finger passes over it. Please, keep playing with one breast while I pillow you on the other. I want you to know me, my textures and surfaces. Learn me with your touch and tongue, taste me too. Learn the curve of my breast and how it weighs in your hand, how your hand curls naturally around me, just like you're doing now. Is the first time your hand has cupped a woman's breast? How very warm your hand is! Squeezing me, testing the response of my flesh. You'll have to learn that every caress touches me in the head, also. Your exploratory touch is delightfully soft. I sighed. "Your hand feels very nice on my breast. Not sexy, but nice. If you keep doing that, it'll probably turn into sexy. Your fingers are being so delicate. You can be more forceful, I'll tell you if its too much. I like my nipple being squeezed. You can feel it grow and harden between your fingers, especially if you make it wet. If you use your teeth and nibble at my nipple very very carefully when you suck my breast, you'll make me a very happy woman, and very aroused. You don't mind my telling you this do you?" I felt his smile on my breast. "Of course not. How else would I know what you like?" "Well, it seems that some men think they know everything already and don't want to hear anything that might imply that they are anything but expert lovers. Other men don't really seem to care, they already know what they like, why should they care what I like." "I won't be like that. I'll take every piece of advice you care to give me. Please remember that up until twenty minutes ago I was a virgin." The next day we went to the darkroom together. We couldn't stop touching as we handled the chemicals. I decided to give him his first blowjob as we waited for the film. We were kissing and I knew he was hard, I could feel it pressing against my belly. He trembled as my hand crept over him. "You're going to make me come in my pants, Tammy." I was running my hand up and down the bulge in his jeans while kissing him. "I can think of a better place to come, one that won't embarass you so much when you go to do the laundry." I did my best to slither down his front, rubbing my breasts along him as I went. Kneeling I undid his belt and fly by touch in the deep red darkness. I slid his pants off his ass, then took his shorts down slowly. His cock swung out to rub against my chin as it came free. I felt the wet drops it left there, evidence of his arousal. Kneeling in the dark, it seemed to radiate heat. I let it trail across my cheek until I felt his head warm on my lips. I put one hand on his ass and the other curled around his rod. He felt so warm in my hand. My pussy gave a little squeeze as my hand tightened on him. I was wetting his cock head as my own juice started to flow liberally. I wanted to be so good for him. I wanted to make him last and give him a virtuoso performance. As my jaw opened to swallow him my pussy throbbed. With my hand on his ass I guided him in thrusting slowly into my mouth. Then I pushed down on the base of his cock with the other hand and stilled him, giving myself the opportunity to let my head move up and down on him. I got my hand going and pretty soon his whole cock was getting stroked or sucked. He was totally into the feelings I was giving him, I could hear little whimpers of pleasure as my lips slid over the flare around his cock head. I thought he was close to coming. He had reached behind my head and was carressing my hair, urging me to take more and more of him. I took what I could of him, and the rest I stroked faster and tighter. He suprised me by putting his other hand over mine, slowing me down but making me even tighter. He guided me now, I'm sure he knew how to pleasure himself, and now I was learning just what kind of hand stroke he liked. Together we held his erection, his hand on mine. I was holding the tip of his cock between my lips, tongueing the little gap, waiting for his wonderful explosion. I was trying to concentrate on how tight he was holding my hand, how the speed and pressure varied. My pussy was clenching as if it too wanted to be tight and slick around that warm stiff flesh. In time, I thought, in time. Suddenly his hand behind my head pushed in on me and his cock popped into my mouth just as he came. His cum slid over my tongue as his smell filled my nostrils, strong and heady. I squeezed his ass really hard, feeling his muscles clench as he shot into me. That's right, I thought, come really hard into me I love giving it to you so good let me milk every last drop out of you. You are so special, I want you to feel it in the way I wrap my tongue around you, sucking licking I know you're so sensitive now let me just hold you in my mouth steady steady let me swallow what I've got and breathe and feel so happy I've given you something so special, made it so sweet for you, we did it together, let me lick that last drop out of your cock you wonderful boy. I cleaned him up and tucked him back in and we finished up with the rolls of film. Then we practically ran back home to my apartment. I showed him how to go down on me, how to make me shiver and twitch with a little flick of the tongue. He was a very attentive student, I think he got it all right the first time through, but he insisted on practicing so I endured his tender ministrations twice more before I collapsed into a happy little puddle. We made love again that night and he found out what it feels like to have a woman fuck you from above, driving her body onto your cock, using her whole weight to impale herself on you, over and over again until you both are coming and she stretches out on top of you after you come and your lips meet and your kiss lasts until you sleep. Sisters Ng: The Seduction of Deidre - Part II by Deidre Ng Dear Tammy, Since you asked, this is how things went after that first story from him. We were both pretty busy the following day, but in the afternoon we went to the cafeteria together for a soda. I asked him why he had written such an erotic piece and sent it to me, of all people. He said that the idea just popped into his head as he walked through Bowling Green on the way to the post office for stamps. We had sent these messages to each other and he wanted to see how aroused he could make me via e-mail. But it wasn't just that. It was me in particular he wanted to arouse. The cafeteria wasn't crowded, but it wasn't empty either. We were talking quietly. Suddenly he smiled awkwardly and said he wanted to write something that would make us intimate. He looked down at the table. The soda had been sweating, and when he moved it there was a ring of water drops on the table top. He pushed them around with his finger, dragged them by surface tension til they joined together. He seemed lost in thought, or perhaps waiting for me to respond. Perhaps unconciously his finger carressed the water drop on the table, pushing it, circling it, holding his finger hovering over it til it leapt up and spread across his finger tip. It reminded me of how his finger might move if it were hovering over me, between my legs, between my lips, hovering, waiting for surface tension to attract my surface to his. I clamped my legs tight together and shivered at the breeze blowing through me. The more his finger carressed the drop of water, the more aroused I got, the less able to speak and break the spell. The word intimate was echoing around inside me. This went beyond the intimacy of a shared secret. Whether he knew it or intended it, he had already entered me through my most sensitive and delicate opening, that of the imagination. He had lubricated his entry with slippery words that left me breathless, his strong shaft was words, his ejaculation was more words that I still tasted inside me. Having aroused me there, made love to me there, been as intimate with me there as could be done with words, what could the rest of me do but follow helplessly. Hadn't I, the night before, invited his kiss, his carress, begged them even. In my privacy I had craved his intimacy, far beyond a wink at the coffee station. He looked up at me, breaking the spell. I gathered my self together, reining in my feelings and my bodily urges. I told him that if he wanted to be intimate he had chosen how to start very well. I was still a bit suprised to be the subject of his attention. He flattered me, telling me that I was smart and pretty and sexy, that it made for a very attractive package, especially the smart part. I suffered through being complimented as well as can be expected, simultaneously basking in his praise and trying to squelch the little voice inside that kept saying it wasn't true, that I was dumb and fat and why should he care, its just my pussy he wants anyway. We had to leave it like that, and I went back to my desk still ambivalent. Ambivalent and aroused. Aroused and unsure. Aroused and more aroused. I could taste his words like he had come them into my mouth. They rolled saltily in my mouth. "...intimate...push him into you..." That evening I got another e-mail: No Words At 6: 30 you get message via e-mail, which you think is strange, since you assume I am gone. The subject is simply 'No Words', suggestive enough to quicken your heart even before you click the message open. The message itself is simple. "No panties either. My office. 9PM." At 9 my side of the floor is empty. The cleaning lady has come and gone. You step inside and close the door. I meet you with a kiss that begins as a shower of little kisses across your cheeks and lips, then focuses on your lips as we embrace. We stand, kissing, exploring each other and our mutual desire. Our grip is tender and fierce as our kisses meet and join and melt together. In our own time, we separate just a little. I hold your hands and lead you to my desk. Clearing aside papers and keyboard, I motion you to sit up on the vacant space. You do, and flip out the skirt from beneath you. Now standing between your legs, I bend to kiss you again, seeing the pulse thudding in the veins of your neck. Your hair falls away from your up-tilted head. I lean against you and your legs embrace me. A whimper of desire escapes your lips. We kiss. Your tongue is fire in my mouth. In our own time, we separate just a little. Your head rolls back and your breath escapes in measured gasps. I stroke your arms and push against your breasts beneath your blouse. I kneel. Now I am face to face with your heat. With my hands on your buttocks I bring you to the edge of the desk. You widen your spread. I kiss you. Small and tentative at first, then circling and little flicks of my tongue. Your motions and gasps are spasms of guidance in your pleasure. I know it when you come and come again. In our own time, we separate just a little. I am ready for you, and you are ready for me. I lean against you once more, my hands on your knees, your ankles crossed in the small of my back. We rock back and forth, and I slip quickly inside of you, greeted by your slickness and warmth and desire. We stop and start at many stages. We rest and kiss. I slip right out of you by accident one time. With a giggle you guide my wet shaft back into your waiting depths. The ending is a slow build, a thrusting that cannot stop, your every muscle holding, squeezing me as I explode within you. Breathless, we hold each other. We are one. In our own time, we separate. We clean each other, touch each other, kiss each other. You laugh, I laugh too, we hold each other. In our own time, we bid adieu. You open the door after a last long kiss and the spell is broken. At your desk you find an e-mail message waiting that says "Thank you, and Good night. I love you." You go home. No-one on the subway knows why you laugh and smile, shiver and hug yourself. Before I left that night I had written him two messages: Subject: just right ------------------------------- Message Contents -- ----------------------------- Perfect. You were PERFECT. You were so, so, so absolutely perfect. How do you know exactly how to make it so perfect? I can undertand how your fantasies would reflect what YOU would like and would be like. But how do you know so well the details of just how I would respond, even though you've never made love to me? Is what I would like and how I would like it so obvious that it shows on the outside? Or do you and I happen to share the same imagination? (Did you make this up just for me, or is it something you might actually want to do?) I'm staying late tonight, but I'll still close my eyes and smile a Mona Lisa smile on the way home as I sink into the back seat of the limo. It will give me something to think about as I'm lying totally relaxed and naked on the top white tile step in the steam room at the gym after my run this evening, and it's about 115 degrees. I can't see a thing because I don't have my glasses and the room is foggy thick with steam and the hiss of the compressor. The hot little drops of water condensing on the ceiling fall onto me unannounced - I never know just when they're going to fall or where they're going to land. I usually close my eyes and breath very slowly and deeply because the air is too hot and wet to breath normally. I feel completely surrounded. I always take a quick shower before going in there, so my skin feels smooth and shiny and soft, and my hair is wet and smells fresh from the shampoo and hangs long over the side of the step. I'll most certainly go over every detail. And over. And over. And over. You got it just right. Well there was no hiding my feelings after that, was there? And so I wrote: Subject: what's going through my mind on the west side IRT ------------------------------- Message Contents -------- ----------------------- Oh, David. I think about you now, all the time. I really do. I think about how it would be with you. You really are making me crazy. The images and sensations you come up with for me, the way you imagine I would respond - it's a little scary how right you are. The little sighs and wimpers, sudden quiet deep moans that surprise even me, pulling you into me with my legs around you, arms folded around your shoulders and neck, fingers in your hair at the back of your head, my hair falling everywhere, (around your face when I'm on top) soft kisses, deep hot kisses., slow, messy, open mouthed. I'd love to tease you with my tongue. Just the tip, outlining your lips, hunting inside your mouth for your tongue, finding, pulling back, sneaking in again. My lips gently tasting your mustache, my fingertips and nails stroking and smoothing your beard. I especially liked the part in cashmere where I was on top, slowly working you into me, oversized sweater falling and moving across my skin, your hands moving over me, under that softest sweater, even warmer than the cashmere. You cannot imagine how much that turns me on. It's unbelievable. Too many men seem to forget that there are more three places on my body I enjoy being touched. (Basically, anyplace there is skin does the trick). And the gradual deepening sensation of you slowly filling me up, and the perfect moment when you're finally completely inside me, close and hard and hot between my legs, belly to belly. I always lose my breath at that moment, eyes closed, lips parted, my hair slipping over my shoulders as I lean towards you to kiss you hard. There aren't any words at that moment - you might feel the soft stinging scratch of my nails as I tighten my grip on your shoulders as I finally take you completely into me. Being only five feet tall, and more or less petite overall, I must tell you that, while I'm sure I could take you, I'm a bit...(how should I put it delicately)... on the tight side.. You would be very safe, very hard, very hot, and very, very desperate. And I have excellent muscle control. And I love to move with you. If I'm on top, let me do the work - let me move up and down your entire length, pulling up but stopping just short of your very hard and slippery head and oh so slowly pressing back down, squeezing you from the inside as I go, until you can feel me resting on top of you, dripping on to you. I might lace my fingers through yours, holding your hands just above your head, leaning forward, my weight very gently pinning you to the pillows - you're much stronger than I am, but you let me do this anyway because you don't want to upset the balance. I can watch your face, your eyes, tease you with almost-kisses for a bit before I give you my mouth for what turns into a seemingly inseparable devouring kiss, and I hear your sighs and wimpers through it. I can tell as you get closer and closer to coming, but even though you're signalling me to move faster, oh please, please, please, I might take just a little more time, make you last a just a little longer, until you absolutely can't hold on another second, and crush me to you, burying your face in my neck, shaking as you come into me, as deep as you can. I stop moving and lay perfectly still on top of you, holding you very close, ohyes ohyes oh yes oh so sweet, until the last little shudder is over. We stay like that not speaking or moving, just catching our breath. After a few minutes I'd pull myself up, pushing my very messed up hair out of the way over one shoulder to look at you, kiss you oh so gently on the mouth, eyelashes, fuzzy face, warm damp neck and mouth again, moving slowly and smoothly from kiss to kiss. You made me so happy. I feel wonderful. I love seeing you so excited. I love making you so excited. Here, put your arm around me, let's curl up and fall asleep together. Everything okay? Mmmmmmm. good night. Of course for me it was another night of tossing and turning and calling out his name as I touched the fire he had lit in me. I was over the line now. I had to have him. If he wanted intimacy he was on notice now what to expect. We had a soda break that evening as well, after a full day of running into each other in the hall and elevator and just exchanging glances. We sat away from everyone else and I told him everything. I told him what he had done to me, what I had done when I got home the last two evenings. I told him how much I hoped he truly wanted to make love to me, now that I wanted more than anything to make love to him. I told him in exacting detail how I would go down on him, given the chance. He listened to me impassively. When I ran out of things to say, he said he wanted those things too. He reached across the table and we touched for the first time. Deidre wrote some stories for Kellie, when she wanted to write about some stuff she didn't want to admit doing herself. Sisters Ng: Hey, thats Me! by Kellie Dear Deidre Ng, My name is Kellie. I don't want to tell you my last name right now, maybe we can share that later. For now let me just say that I have a boy friend, Brien. He reads alt.sex.stories and other stuff on the Internet. He sent me your post called "As I've Seen" yesterday. I don't have to tell you what was in it, you wrote it after all. Let me say that I thought it was really hot. And the hottest thing about it was that it was about me! I know you might find this hard to believe. As I read your post over and over I became more certain that it was Brien and I that you saw at S St Seaport. I remember the whole thing just like you wrote it, even the Evan Picone suit I was wearing. I think its a big turn on to get felt up in a public place, with all my clothes on. I wish I had seen you watching, that would have been an even bigger thrill. Now I think back and get so wet thinking about you seeing us. You guessed I wasn't wearing panties. I had the whole planned when I got dressed. Rolling the stockings up my legs, I was already wet, thinking about it. Brien would be touching me, and he'd want to put his hand between my legs. He'd be expecting nylons and panties, what a suprise when I lft my leg and he grabs my naked pussy! I stopped right there, overcome by the throbbing I felt. I had on my bra, my camisole, my starched white shirt. My white thigh high stockings. I slipped my hand between the shirttails and started fingering my clit. I stopped and put on my jewelry. Looking in the mirror over my dresser, my hand slid back between my legs. I squeezed my tit through my clothes,like Brien does. I pressed the clothes against my breast so that I could see my nipple through all the layers of fabric. I did my makeup and pulled on my skirt, making sure nothing hinted at the truth about the stockings. Put on the jacket and slipped on the right pair of shoes. I stood in front of the full length mirror on the back of my bedroom door and a neat corporate lady looked back. Then I pulled over a chair and put my foot up on it. I pulled the skirt up til I could see my thigh and my pussy together. I watched myself wet my finger and run it along my pussylips. It slipped between them so easily. I watched my hand make little circles, watched the tendon on the back of my hand stand out as my finger played with my clit. I could see my nipples clearly and I felt them inside the cups of my bra. I pulled the chair over in front of the mirror and sat down. My skirt slid down my thighs, my pumps fell off as I lifted my legs and pointed my toes. I could see my whole pussy now, framed by the folds of my skirt. Watching my fingers move, I brought myself to climax. I washed my hands with a lightly perfumed soap. Shouldering my purse and attache, I left for work. Well, I don't have to tell you what happened at lunch, you saw the whole thing. I can tell you more of what we like to do if you want to hear about it, but you have to post it. For instance, we work in the same building, Brien and I, and on the weekend the place is deserted. One game we like is to go to the stalls in the mens room. He stands and I sit on the toilet. He watches me getting off but I stop just before I come, and then I jack him off and take his cum and rub it into my pussy and I come too. I love it when it lands on my pussy. In bed he jacks off right onto my clit while I'm fingering it, and my fingers start rubbing his cum all over my clit and I always come so hard after that. Anyway, you said you wanted to say thank you to the woman who made your lunch so interesting. This is me saying you're welcome and thank you, too! Sisters Ng: Kellie in Court by Kellie Dear Deidre Ng, Thank you so much for writing back. I just got e-mail from Brien, saying my note to you was on a.s.s. it made me so happy (and wet, knowing a million horny guys were looking over my shoulder, watching me slide my fingers up my pussy). I really like to dress like I did that day, no panties, thigh highs. I look so business-like on the outside, inside I'm just dripping! If I have to sit through a boring meeting my mind starts to wander. I look at the nicest looking guy in the room and wonder how he'd feel if he knew my bush was right there under the table. I get so wet, I try to sit on my heel and rock slowly back and forth. It feels so good, rocking my heel into my pussy. I'll get close to coming and stop, close again and stop. Then I'll excuse myself and go to the ladies room. I'll sit on the toilet with my skirt hoisted up and finger my clit til I come. Then go back and sit down again like nothing happened. Beats falling asleep. Brien and I are both attorneys. He grinds out boring corporate papers, leasing deals and the like. I'm a litigator. That means I go to court. Once or twice I've had to speak up in court, approach the bench, etc. and had not a stitch on underneath. At the moment that I was standing there, I was totally focussed on what I had to do. Afterwards, I would be shivering with the thrill of it. Court is a man's world, and I'm sure every minute I'm in a courtroom there is someone in that same room thinking about fucking me. I have to out-shark guys who've been at it forty years. I have no qualms playing the sex card, looking my best, flashing a smile thats 500 watts. But it has to get released somehow. One day I had to question fifteen witnesses, all men. Over and over I would smile, flip my hair, tip my head as I listened, twist a little so they could see the outline of my breast. Get them thinking that maybe I wanted to meet them after court was over. Then they'd say what they thought I wanted them to say. All the time keeping an eye on the judge, sharing a secret little smile each time I dismissed a witness, one that said don't worry, they don't have what you have, you have that ultimate aphrodisiac, power. Hope there's a bulge under that gown. When it was over I called Brien. He knew what I wanted. He came up and closed the door of my tiny office. Its not unusual to have a closed door meeting in my office. Brien knew I wanted to get fucked right there, that part of what I got off on was doing it so quietly noone could tell what was going on behind closed doors. Holding back all the noise I wanted to make just got me more excited. I watched him drop his pants and stroke his cock. I got up from behind my desk and stood in front of him wordlessly. I licked my hand and pumped his cock a few times. Then I turned and bent over and grabbed the edges of my desk. He stood behind me and lifted my skirt. I reached under my skirt til I got hold of his cock and I guided him into my pussy. We were both being completely silent, I couldn't let out a sound that would betray the fact that I was about to get fucked in my office. His hands were kneading my ass as he slid into me. Inside my head I was groaning. He would bring my ass cheeks together, then spread them. He licked one thumb and started rubbing my asshole. I wanted to let go with a real guttural moan, but held it back, voicelessly squeezing the corners of the desk. His cock slid home as his thumb slipped into my ass. He fucked me almost noiselessly, this wet slipping sound was the only thing I could hear that said what was really happening. His thumb was working in and out of my ass when I felt him wet his other thumb and put it to my asshole. Slowing the pace of his fucking, he worked his thumbs back to back into my ass. I thought I was going to explode. He got the first knuckle in and went back to fucking me, quicker now. I could feel my pussy juice trickling over my clit. He was really fucking me, his cock was rock hard as it slammed into me. I knew it was covered with my juice, coming out dripping each time he stroked me. I was gonna cum, his fingers in my ass, his cock, the silent fucking making me so excited. I bit my lip as I came and pushed my hips back, meeting his cock rushing in to spray his cum all over my cunt. We ground our hips together as we came. I could taste the blood in my mouth from my lip, the blood roared in my ears as my pussy spasmed around his cock. When I finished I pulled away from him, feeling his thumbs pop out of my ass, his cock slide out of my cunt. I turned quickly and knelt and took his cock in my mouth and sucked it, holding the base of it in one hand, my lipstick smearing along his shaft, mixing with his cum and mine. While I sucked at his cock my other hand was working between my legs, painting my clit with his cum, stroking, stroking til I came again, sucking his last drops out of his cock. Then I let him pull his pants up, clean his thumbs off. I let him watch as I sat back in my chair and leaned back, putting my feet on the desk and spreading my legs so I could run my fingers around my pussy, cleaning my pussy of his cum, licking it off my fingers, big smile, not a word spoken. More lipstick, smooth down the skirt, ready to open the door and rejoin polite society. Brien says the Ng sisters are the hottest writers on a.s.s. Last night he brought home Tammy's piece about cock sucking and had me read it out loud in bed. Wow. You know what happened then. You can give my guy a hard on like that any time, I'll take care of the consequences. If you ever want to have lunch at the Seaport and have us put on a show for you, just ask. For what you've done for my sex life, its the least we could do! Sisters Ng: Kellie Sleeps over by Kellie Dear Deidre Ng, Hi, Kellie again! This is addictive! Thank you for posting for me. I was thinking about what you've posted, how I've caught glimpses of how you grew up with your sister. The flash of recognition is there as I read them, the same kind of stuff happened to me, too. I have two sisters and two brothers. I grew up in Queens, and went to Catholic girls schools until I went to college, St Johns, which if you don't know is in Queens, and St Johns Law School. I still live in Queens. The Girls HS I went to was the worst education possible, all of us were wild kids, serious drinkers, we were probably faster to lift our skirts for a guy than the public school girls who had them around all the time. When I was sixteen I got invited to a sleep over party. I was friends with this girl who was pretty shy, Colleen. I remember that she only had sisters, and they all had names that ended -een, Kathleen, Eileen, Noreen, etc. Anyway, she invited six girls over to her house. I probably wasn't the only one who thought sleepovers were for kids and maybe I could sneak out to see my boyfriend. But I went along. Everyone else who was invited I knew, and I was suprised that one girl in particular was there. Deb was seventeen, had been left back once, was definitely the wildest girl I knew. Well after midnight we were sitting around Colleen's bedroom, only one light on, everyone of us in panties and a tee shirt. Some of us filled out the tee shirt more than others, I did a good amount of looking at my girlfriends boobs, rating myself on how big my tits were relative to theirs. I'm not very big, definite B-cup material. Deb was bragging about everything and anything she had done. According to her, she had two regular boyfriends that gave her pot, booze and kept her pussy full, she had gone down on a priest in one of the confessionals in our parish church and she had hypnotized her parents so she could stay out and do anything and never get in trouble. In my head I was thinking that she was so full of crap, when Colleen said exactly that! I was stunned, someone standing up to Deb, no less Colleen. I think she didn't like what Deb said about the priest. Deb looked at her. We were all silent. Deb said, "You think I made that shit up?" Colleen didn't answer, just sat there crosslegged on the floor. Deb said, "You don't think I can hypnotize people?" Colleen said, "I don't think you can spell it, and I certainly don't think you can do it." Deb curled her lip, smiled and said, "I don't have to know how to spell it to know how to do it. My uncle Johnnie was in a circus and he learned how to do it. He tried to hypnotize me and make me take my shirt off for him. It didn't work on me and I told him I would tell on him or else he had to tell me how to do it so it worked. And anyway all he had to do was ask. So I learned it from him, and a few other things as well. I can probably hypnotize you, Colleen." "Ha" "Chicken" "Am not" "Then let me try." "Go ahead, make a fool of yourself." Deb got up from the bed and sat behind Colleen. "I'm gonna see if it'll work on you. I'm gonna test how sensitive you are." She put her hand over Colleen's head, and brought it closer and closer, asking Colleen if she could feel it each time. Colleen said no each time until Deb's hand was just hovering over her hair. Then Deb said, "Okay can you feel this?" Colleen said yes. I think about it now and it seems Deb was really seeing how suggestible Colleen was. Deb got up, and made Colleen get up and sit on a chair. She sat on the other chair in the room, to the right and facing Colleen. She fished around in her purse and came out with a cigarette lighter. She told the rest of us to sit on the floor behind Colleen, so we took up positions in a rough semicircle. Flicking on the lighter, she told Colleen to stare at the flame while she talked. Deb held the lighter in front of Colleen while she talked almost inaudibly into her ear. I couldn't hear what she said. We sat, hushed and expectant, watching and waiting. Like I said it was well after midnight, so I think Deb started with an advantage. I think I must have dozed off a little my self, because my head snapped up as Deb flicked off the lighter. Deb looked around at us to make sure she had our attention. She flicked the lighter again so that it sparked but didn't light, then held it up in front of Colleen. "Colleen, hold up your finger please." She did. "Colleen, I'm going to hold this flame closer and closer to your finger. You tell me to stop when it gets to hot." The unlit lighter mover closer to her finger. When it was almost touching Colleen said "Stop." Her voice had a dreamy quality, I got goosebumps hearing it. There was something childlike in it. Deb turned to us and in a low voice warned us not to say a word or break the trance. "Colleen, all your friends are asleep. Its kind of stuffy in here, wouldn't you feel cooler with no top on? Noone will see you take it off." Colleen leaned forward and crossed her arms. Grabbing her shirt, she pulled it over her head. Her hands fell back to her lap, still tangled in the sleeves of the shirt. Deb motioned for us to come and sit in front of Colleen on the floor. Sitting there, I looked up at Colleen. Colleen had milky white skin, coppery red hair and at least a million freckles. She had freckles across her chest, freckles over her breasts, right up to her dark brown aureoles. Her breasts swayed slightly as she breathed. I couldn't believe I was looking at Colleen sitting almost naked. "Tell me, Colleen, do you have a vibrator?" Colleen blushed. She blushed across her breasts and up over her chest and neck and cheeks. I blushed with her. More than blushing, I felt the wet start to flow in my pussy. I didn't have a vibrator at sixteen. I knew from whispered conversation what they were and what they did, but still I'd never seen one. Colleen was blushing flame red as she answered, "Yes." "Who do you like?" "Joey Conigliaro." Joey C had been an altar boy, believe it or not. His real interest was looking down ladies' dresses as they knelt to take Communion. Maybe Colleen knew this, maybe not. "You like him a lot?" "Yes." "You'd like it if he kissed you?" "Yes." "You'd like it if he touched you?" "Yes." "Where would you like Joey to touch you?" "My breasts." "How would you like Joey to touch you?" Colleen lifted her hands out of the shirt at her lap. She ran her fingers lightly over her breasts. She took them in her hands and pushed them together. She ran her index finger back and forth across her nipple, and as she did she sighed a little sigh and said, "Oh, Joey thats so nice." I watched her hands move, caressing herself. I was getting wetter and wetter, and my nipples were standing up under my tee. I tucked one heel into my crotch and rocked it into my clit. "Colleen, what will you do if Joey wants to touch your pussy?" Blush. She hooked her thumbs into her panties and wriggled out of them. They came away damp from her crotch. She had sparse strawberry blonde fuzz softly covering her mound, and freckles everywhere. She picked up her legs and propped her heels on the chair. We all had good look at her pussy. I was drenched with juice in my slit, I could feel the wetness on my heel as I pressed through my panties. I tore my eyes away from Colleen long enough to look around, to see if anyone was watching me. I saw three other girls also rocking on their heels and one openly rubbing her fingers into her crotch through her panties. "Colleen, where is your vibrator?" "Between my matresses." Deb didn't ask, but the girl that had been stroking her pussy most plainly got up and lifted the matress on Colleen's bed. She pulled out a slim vibrator about six inches long. She passed it over to Deb wordlessly. As she knelt again she slid her panties off and fingered her clit unashamedly. I bit my lip when I saw the vibrator for the first time. But my jaw dropped when I saw this other girl doing what I had done only in secret. She was staring at Colleen and Deb, jaw slack, fingers working slowly between her legs. My own pussy twitched as I watched her gulp and whimper. Deb refocused my attention by turning on the vibrator. It made a buzz that reminded me of cicaidas at night. "Colleen, did you ever play with your vibrator and think about Joey fucking you? Blush. "Oh, yes" She passed her hand over her pussy and her lips spread as her whole pussy seemed to swell and darken. I gasped and the other girls too, as the transformation of her pussy struck ours as well. At sixteen, who hadn't thought about getting laid by their boyfriend, who hadn't felt before exactly that engorgement of their mound, the lips peeling back, pussy damp and expectant as the fantasy unfolded? We all had, it seems. Deb took the buzzing vibrator and pressed it to her lips. Her tongue snaked out and licked the head of it, the tip of her tongue on the tip of the slim cream colored wand. She made it wet and passed it over her lips like she was applying lipstick. She paused a moment, gathering the saliva in her mouth and then she plunged it in, rolling it with her tongue. It came out wet and glistening. I was awestruck. I knew, viscerally, that Deb had just treated the stiff plastic of the vibrator as she might have treated the stiff flesh of a man. All my fantasies ended short of doing such a thing. I had one fantasy where I was tied up and my boyfriend was forced by shadowy unclear forces to put his erection in my mouth, that I was expected to suck it. I always fantasized it coming closer and closer to my face, but never contact, never taking him into me. I always came before then, just imagining his stiff cock hanging in front of me, getting closer and closer. Now Deb sat on the floor, joining our circle. She was right in front of Colleen, practically face to face with her pussy. Colleen's pussy was slick, a little translucent drop of her juice crept towards the pink pucker of her asshole. She had put her hands over her head and grasped her elbows. "Colleen, its safe to imagine that Joey is fucking you right now, that he slipped into your room while your friends were sleeping and he found you so ready that he just had to fuck you right away. Your imagination is so powerful it starts to feel like he's really inside you." Colleen took one hand and lay her fingers around her lips, massaging her pussy slowly. Her lips gaped apart as she softly called to her lover over and over, "Oh Joey fuck me please, oh please Joey fuck me." Deb took the vibrator and touched the tip to Colleen's lips. The pink flesh eagerly parted for the wand, it seemed to disappear effortlessly into her, that Deb had hardly put any pressure on it, instead that Colleen's pussy had lapped it up. As it disappeared a long sigh came from Colleen. Deb seemed to have to pull it back out of her, her cunt lips gave it up reluctantly. It reappeared covered with a pearly layer of Colleen's juice. Deb worked the wand into her, played it in and out while Colleen mewed in ecstasy. Her chest was covered with a deep flush between her breasts that merged all her freckles into one dark patch. Her nipples stood out stiff, seeming to stand on a secondary rise in her breast. After a while Deb turned to her right and looked to the girl who had gotten up before. Her fingers were deep in her pussy now. Deb silently offered her the place in front of Colleen and control of the wand. She slid her fingers out of her pussy and got up, changing places with Deb. Deb took the chance to remove her panties as she shifted position. We each took a turn fucking Colleen. When it was my turn the first touch of the vibrator in my hand was a shock. It was warm from the handling of the others, Colleen's juice was thick over it, down onto the ribbed portion. The buzz ran up my hand, I felt it in my breasts and between my legs. The two girls that had preceded me had fingered themselves as they stroked Colleen with the shaft of the vibrator, I found myself doing the same. I pulled it out and passed the slick tip of it over Colleen's clit as I fingered my own. Colleen and I groaned at the same instant. Deb hissed from my right not to make her come yet. I penetrated her again, and relinquished my spot to the last of my friends. When she was done Deb took the wand again. She had stripped off her shirt as well as her panties. She was all around heavier than Colleen or any of us, wide heavy hips, heavy breasts already pendulous. Her nipples were flat and the skin around them looked puckered. "Oh Colleen its time for you and Joey to come, he really wants to feel you squeeze him now, just wait a minute while he puts his condom on." She pulled the vibrator out of Colleen's cunt. It was heavy with Colleen's juice. Lifting herself, Deb fed it into her own pussy, giving a heavy throaty moan as her lips engulfed the buzzing shaft. Then she licked her fingers and planted them in Colleen's pussy. We had all at one time or another stripped. Seven naked girls sat, six on the floor, one on a chair. Six girls fingered their pussies, and one fingered two pussies. We were watching as Deb and Colleen worked closer and closer to climax, Deb's fingers sliding into Colleen and out, her thumb cirling Colleen's clit. Colleen was so red, she looked about to catch fire, about to split in two. Her mouth worked noiselessly, her back arched, every muscle tensed. Deb was matching her, hand pumping up and down over her clit, the vibrator a muffled buzz inside her, her breasts shaking as she bent forward, legs splaying across the floor, spreading under her, vibrator completely in her as her pussy pressed against the floor. Her face hung over Colleens cunt, she must have been full of the scent and taste of Colleen's pussy. Just as they came I saw Deb's tongue flick out and lick Colleen on the clit and then they were both thrashing and I was coming and so were the others. Seven girls twisted in the sweet agony of their orgasms. Through my own red haze I remember the slap of Deb's thighs and ass and pussy against the floor. We were all for the most part silent, knowing that there was no choice but to strangle our screams. It seemed to last forever, that every time my spasms would pass, I would hear the low moan of my neighbor and the spasms would come again, and I would grunt and set another one of us off. Deb withdrew her fingers from Colleen's ginger colored cunt. Staggering to her feet, she sqatted and the vibrator shot from her pussy. She clicked it off. She led the collapsed Colleen to her bed and lay her down on it and lay down next to her. Crooning in her ear the words to break the trance, that it was all a dream, that she should fall deeply asleep as Deb counted back. We others sprawled on the floor, between sheets, random sleeping bags appropriated by the nearest girl. We were all crashing asleep, the strength of our orgasms now become an anchor dragging us down. Just as I fell unconcious, I heard Deb's voice counting back for Colleen, they were still in bed together, weren't they? Four, three, two, one, and as I slipped away Deb's voice, could it be that tender? Whispering "I love you, Colleen" in a hush noone was supposed to hear. We woke up in the morning, naked, sore, smelling of stale excitement. Ours eyes met and slid away. Noone ackowleged the vibrator lying on the floor in plain sight, until Deb kicked it under the bed as she came back from the bathroom. Colleen's mom took us to a diner for breakfast. We packed our stuff. We went home. Colleen tried hanging out with Deb alot after that. Deb gave her the cold shoulder. Then Deb got expelled, for getting arrested with one of her boyfriends for stealing a car. We didn't see her, after that. Some stories that just don't fit anywhere else. "Morning Orgasms: Backrub, Assrub, Clitrub, Cockrub" by Backrub (bckrub@aol.com) and Tammy Ng (deidreng@aol.com) IMPORTANT NOTE: This story includes very explicit descriptions of consensual, non-violent sexual behavior. It is intended for people above the age of consent in their community. Others should read no further. They arrived home at 2:30 A.M. after a six-hour, non-stop motorcycle ride. Tired and dirty they decided to shower together before turning in. They held each other close as the warm water washed over them, kissing and enjoying the face-to-face contact and conversation they were denied on the bike. Although tired, they laughed and rubbed themselves playfully against each other: the 40-year-old half- Armenian bearded malcontent and the 20-something Chinese clarinetist. After shampooing each other, soaping escalated into slow foreplay. He held her against him, her back against him, his cock nestled in between the cheeks of her ass. He slowly rubbed himself between her ass cheeks and she smiled to herself as she felt him harden against her. He removed the hand-held showerhead from its holder where it had rained down on them and switched it to the setting for a concentrated, pulsating spray. He moved the hard/soft sputtering stream of water over the front of her: shoulders, breasts, stomach, thighs, tickling, sensual, wet and warm. She moved her hand over his, holding it warmly and guiding the pulsing spray where she wanted it. She had him spray the insides of her thighs, but avoiding her mound, then onto her hips and then back up to her breasts. He moved his mouth around to suck and nibble on her ear lobe and brought one hand up to caress her breast. They moved the spray down toward her pussy. They moved it quickly across her mound and she smiled widely, then down and up the insides of her thighs. They playfully fought, he trying to move the spray directly onto her mound, she trying to tease herself a bit more. He began to suck and nibble her neck. She gasped softly and brought his hand and the spray onto her mound. Sharp pulsing but soft/hard water parting the matted black thatch and then softly pounding and parting the lips underneath. She stiffened and bit her lip. He began thrusting his cock between her wet soapy ass cheeks a bit harder and she always liked that. She tried to use the pulsing spray to trace a line along her labia and over her clit, trying to concentrate near, but not always on the hardening nub. She was squirming against him and he was sliding even more intently against her. She desperately tried to keep the pounding spray just on the spot, right there, keep it right there...she came, almost losing her footing and pushing him back against the wet tile wall. She stiffened and pulsed herself, never shy about being noisy in the shower, calling out his name, calling him 'Baby." She felt him groan deeply, bite her shoulder and come on her ass, the warm cum contrasting slightly with the warm water still beating against them. They toweled each other off, kissing, cuddling, embracing and then crawled into bed. The long day finally hit and they were both asleep in each others arms in minutes. 9 A.M. He awoke first to find himself on his side, lying against her. She was lying on her stomach and his left leg was draped over her legs and ass. He smelled her hair and the kiwi-strawberry-whatever-it-was scent of the shampoo from just a few hours before. He lay there for a few minutes, just watching her sleep, reminding himself of how lucky he was to be here, and for them to be together after all this time. He placed his palm on her shoulder and very softly, very slowly ran his flat palm over her shoulders, then again. Then slowly, down the ridges of her back, his fingers running along her spine. His hands. Strong, but soft. Large, but not ungainly. "Perfect for grabbing my ass, while he licks me," she liked to say to women friends. He softly kissed her shoulder as he continued to run his palm up and down her back, slowly over her shoulders and then back down, but not yet touching her ass. He could not quite tell exactly when she woke, and he could not see the smile that spread across her face soon after, but he did get to hear the "Mmmmm!" she made just afterward. He whispered, "Lie still," she smirked, "Talked me into it," almost into the pillow, as he continued to run his hand over and over her back - smoothing, caressing, warm on a June morning. He bent over to nudge her long black hair away from her neck and then kissed the back of her neck just as his hand moved onto her ass. "Your hired," she said. He moved his hand over her ass cheeks several times and then returned to her back, moving completely over the length of her back and then onto her ass again. With one finger he traced the inside of her thighs. She squirmed and separated her legs for him. His hand returned to her ass, rubbing the soft skin of her cheeks in a slow circle. He watched as she shivered , and a wave of goosebumps spread across her flesh, only to subside again. With two fingers he began to trace the valley between her ass cheeks, one on each side. From the bottom of her spine until he felt the hair of her pussy, then circling one cheek or the other to return to where he had started. As his hand followed her curve he would slow and reverse and knead her resting muscle. He heard her sigh. At the end of one sliding traverse of her ass, his hand stopped and began to creep further on, rubbing the small space between her ass and her pussy. Tight little circles, pressing firmly into her, alternated with a back and forth that pulled alternately at her ass and pussy. He felt her twitch, her hips move against the bed. His fingers traced and opened her labia. Inside she was wet all over, and his finger slid easily into her, and out again, and forward to her clit, and back, and in again. He shifted himself up onto one elbow to get better leverage. As his finger explored her, he watched the muscles of her back tense and relax, following the rhythm of his penetration of her interior, the excitation of her clit. He could plainly see the pulse dancing in her jugular as it paralleled the taut tendon of her throat. Finger covered with her juice, he turned endless circles around the jutting nub of her clit. Her twitching intensified. He watched her hands close in tight fists, holding the sheets for dear life. Her breath became a series of staccato gasps. She came, the animal sounds muffled by the pillow. She lay still for a while, and he watched the tension drain away from her pose. He almost thought she had fallen asleep again when she turned over. She smiled a lazy smile at him, then licked her lips. "Hope you're proud of yourself. Making a little girl squirm first thing in the morning. And I was in the middle of such a nice dream, too. I wonder if I could remember it if I stroked your cock for a while?" "Only one way to find out." "I suppose." She got out a little squeeze bottle of massage oil from the night table. She lay back down in the middle of the bed and he straddled her waist. His cock was already respectably stiff. She pooped the top of the bottle and squeezed some oil out onto her fingers. The liquid slid between them, dotting the space between her breasts. Her nipples rose as the cool oil hit her skin. "This has to warm up a bit before I touch anything delicate with it." She turned her fingers over and let the oil drip onto her chest. She poured a little more directly onto her skin from the bottle, then set it aside. The liquid tried to escape down across her belly, but she corraled it, spreading it across her breasts, rubbing it into her skin while he watched. "Well, ought to be warm enough now..." She pressed her palm flat against her chest and rubbed herself, spreading and closing her fingers until the oil squished out between them. Only then did she finally lift her hand to take hold of his trembling member. Her hand closed around his cock head, coating it immediately with warm oil. Her hand turned back and forth, as if she was polishing the knob of his cock. The excess oil ran across the back of her hand and down the shaft of his cock, getting lost in the forest of hair surrounding his balls. She spread the oil along the length of him with practiced dexterity. She held her hand still and let him pump his cock in and out for a while, through her curled fingers. She watched him smile as their eyes met. He bent over to kiss her on the mouth as her hand pumped away at his cock. The oil that had escaped before was now dripping from ends of his hair or the naked skin of his balls. Her free hand collected it, and added the oil remaining on her chest. She worked it around so that it coated her middle finger. "One good ass rub deserves another." Her finger slid between his ass cheeks. She quickly found his asshole and rubbed the oiled finger against it, and then into it. His cock grew even stiffer, and he made a little whimper of pleasure as the tip of her finger fucked his ass. His eyelids fluttered and closed, his jaw hung open. She smiled to herself. She continued to pull rhythmically at his cock, watching the head engorge. "One potato, two potato, three potato, four. Five potato, six potato, seven potato, more. Nine potato, ten potato, eleven potato, whore." His cock head was puffed out, shiny, smooth and purple. Her motion changed to quick jerks of the end of his cock. "My... mother... says... to... pick... the... very... next... one... and... that... means... I... love... you...!" His cock spat white come across her chest. "Men are so wonderfully predictable." She wriggled her finger free of his ass as her other hand pulled the last blebes of come from his cock. "Now I remember my dream! It had something to do with breakfast in bed." She flipped a drop of come off of her breast onto the tip of her finger. She brought it to her lips and let her tongue flick out and lick it up. "Does that mean I have to get the bagels?" "Not before I finish the first course." She licked up the come from her chest and sucked the last clear drops from his cock. "Mmmm, now I remember what lox always reminds me of. I hope we have some in the refrigerator." "And if we don't?" "I'm sure you can come up with an acceptable substitute." He groaned. Real Slow Smile, by Deidre Ng {watersports} "If you'll excuse me, I've gotta go water the porcelain." I must have been drunk. "Can I watch?" I never thought I'd hear myself say that out loud. I'd been talking to this guy for about twenty minutes, so I'd say he still qualified as a total stranger. I'd had a couple of beers, which pretty much is my limit. I guess that and not getting laid for a month and the words just spilled out of me. He smiled at me real slow, the edges of his mouth disappearing under the edges of his thick mustache. "Well, aren't we the bad girl? You sure know how to break the ice, don't you?" He took me by the hand and we went in search of a bathroom. It was a big house party in a big house. It turned out the third floor had a half bath, just a toilet and sink, that no one else had bothered to find. We looked into the tiny space from the hall. "Looks like you're gonna have to take the only seat if you want a good view." I nodded and gulped. Ever since I was a little girl, I have always combined the dual forbidden pleasures of playing with myself and pissing my pants. I liked to watch the dark stain spread across my panties, the water beginning to leak through. I liked to pull my panties tight against my pussy so that it wouldn't leak out the sides, and I could see my pussy lips through the semi-transparent fabric. I probably started playing with my clit from reaching down and feeling the wet fabric, tracing my lips, feeling the urine flow out of me. Playing with myself, I thought a lot about men's' cocks and what came out of them. I thought about men while I rubbed my clit through the thin cotton of my panties. I thought about having a guy jerk off on me, his white come soaking into my panties while I rubbed it into my clit. Then I'd come, legs splayed out on both sides of the toilet. Fingers still pressing the cloth into the vertical slit of my pussy, I'd let my stream go, feeling it well up, wash over my clit, hot and forceful. I'd sigh, feeling the total release relax me. I hiked up my skirt and sat down. I sat well back, with my legs out to either side. I left my panties up. He could probably see the moist spot in them. He undid his belt and pulled down his fly. He pushed his pants and underpants down and spread his legs slightly. Reaching between his shirttails, he pulled out his cock for me to see. It was thick and brown skinned, the head a beautiful rose color. My mouth went dry. I felt my nipples swell in my bra, my cunt clench involuntarily. I reached down and pulled my panties tight against my pussy, all the while staring at his beautiful soft flesh. "You look a little fidgety, maybe you want to go first?" He was right. I felt the need to let those two beers go, but I was holding myself in just barely. Sitting there with my legs open, my body felt it was time let go. But I wanted to see his powerful stream shooting between my legs, so I held myself back. "No, it's OK." "I was always taught to let ladies go first. But if you say so..." His cock moved by itself in his hand as the piss worked its way out. All of a sudden the head of his cock swelled a little, and the tiny opening at the end opened a little wider. Then a little squirt of his piss jumped out. It hit square on my panties. I jerked from surprise. The sudden warm feeling seeping through was too much for me, and my own pee started to flow uncontrollably. I could feel it whizzing, foaming hot through the folds and crevices of my pussy, spilling out the sides into my hair, pushing through the cloth, dripping off my ass, splashing into the water. And him watching, watching the stain spread, the pale drops cascading off me. I could feel my face and chest burning red, a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. I couldn't stop my fingers from kneading my pussy as my piss trailed off. "Push your panties over and give me a good target." I stretched the wet fabric, pulling it to one side. With two fingers of my other hand I held my pussy lips wide open, exposing my throbbing clit. I lifted my legs and planted my bare feet on the toilet. His cock sprang to life again. This time he didn't hold back, his full golden jet hit me with amazing force. He played it up and down my pussy, then aimed right for the base of my clit. The pounding pressure sent me over the edge, I lifted my legs, stretching myself open as I came. The little tiled bathroom was filled with the sound of my moaning and his piss. As my orgasm ended I let the soaked cotton of my panties cover my pussy again. He finished by painting the inside of my thighs with the warm stream of his pee. "You want to talk about it?" We were downstairs again, sitting on stools in the kitchen. We had washed out my panties in the sink and wrung them out as much as possible, but they were still damp underneath my skirt. On the way downstairs we stopped on one of the landings and kissed, the first time I had felt the touch of anything but his hand and his piss. I was standing two steps above him when he turned back to me smiling and I leaned forward almost falling off the step and he grabbed me and my arms went around his neck. We kissed in that funny way that you do when it's the first time you're kissing someone and neither of you are quite sure how to turn your head so that you fit together right. After that we walked down side by side, holding hands. "Well, until now, it's been my solitary pleasure. The whole idea of you watching me pee, making me pee, making me come by pissing on me, it's like a dream come true. As soon as I sat down on the seat I was so hot. I thought I was just going to see you piss between my legs." "I just wanted to help out a damsel in distress. You weren't saying it with words, but what you did told me what you really wanted." What I really wanted. That was it all right. Now if only I could share some of the other things I had always thought about alone. "I have a fantasy about things like this. Would you like to hear it?" He gave me that slow smile again. "I'm a motorcycle cop. The uniform, the tight fit of the pants and shirt, it gives me a little thrill every time I change into it. I know the other cops look me over behind their shades, undressing me. I've got this spot out on the highway set up as a speed trap. There's this old billboard I hide behind. One day, it's a hot day, I'm looking out from around this billboard and I see this car full of guys pull over and stop right at the other end of the billboard. They don't give any sign of seeing me. They all pile out of the car and go behind the billboard. From my hiding spot I watch them. They drop their pants one by one and start to pee into the bushes. Five guys holding their soft cocks, pissing a yellow line out into the green foliage. I get very wet very fast watching them pee. I'm suddenly very aware of the big motorcycle between my legs. My thighs give it a squeeze. They're joking with each other about the size of their cocks. They decide to see who has the biggest hard-on. I watch as the five of them start to pull on their cocks, making them grow. They drop spit in their hands to make a slick ring for their cocks to slide through. I can't take my eyes off the sight of five guys pulling on their cocks. All of a sudden one of them reaches over to his neighbor. "No, this is how you do it." He says it smiling, playfully. In a flash I see my opening. I pop the cover off my pistol and unholster it as I swing my leg over the bike. "Freeze!" I shout in my most authoritative voice. They look up, completely surprised, cocks still in their hands. Quickly I close the distance between us. All five are blushing crimson, their erections shriveling in their hands. "Look, I can explain..." "I know what I saw. I saw homosexual contact. Don't you college snot noses know what's against the law in this state? For what I saw I could get all five of you flushed into the worst sewer of a prison this state has, and wouldn't that look nice on your transcript? Now straighten up and stand in a line!" They shuffle into a line, their pants around their ankles. A couple of them, especially the one that reached for the other guy's cock, look ready to cry. I have a pair of leather riding gloves that a very soft and supple. I holster my gun and pull them on. "There's only one thing that's gonna keep you guys out of jail for homosexual contact. Do you know what that is?" They stare at me in blank fear. "Make it heterosexual contact." "Sir?" "Step forward, you!" He shuffles forward. "Have you ever seen a real woman up close?" "Yeah, I think so..." "What did you say!" "Well, uh, no, maybe not." "I didn't think so. Now stand here and unbutton my blouse." "Sir?" "DO IT!" I lift my chin for him to unbutton the neck button. Slowly, his hands shaking, he does each one till he reaches my belt. I pull out the tails of my blouse and he unbuttons the last two buttons. I pull back my blouse so that he can see breasts in my bra. "The clasp is in the middle. Unhook it." "Yes, officer." "Now uncover my tits." His hands shake as he peels the cups of my bra back from my breasts. They drop from the cups like pale ripe fruit. My nipples stand up stiff and dark. "Are you looking at my tits?" He can't take his eyes off them. "Uh, no, of course not." "WHY NOT?!" "Actually, your breasts are quite beautiful. Officer. Sir." "How would you know till you've felt them?" I take his hands in my gloved ones and plant them firmly on my breasts. Reflexively he squeezes me, and I shiver. His fingers trap my nipples and pinch them. "Let's see what a real woman has done for your pecker." Sure enough, his cock is standing stiffly out between his legs. "Looks like you need some roadside assistance." I run one gloved finger up the underside of his cock. Standing at his side, I pin his hands behind him with one hand while I wrap my other hand tightly around his cock. "Do I need to use the cuffs on you?" "No, ma'am. Officer. Sir." One by one I bring them off with my hand in it's tight leather glove. The white come contrasts strongly with the black leather. I save for last the one that reached for the other guy's cock. I make him strip my pants off and finger my pussy. Then I have him go down on all fours, then put his hands behind his back like the others did. His ass is sticking straight up in the air, with his balls tucked up tight against his body. I squat over him and let loose my piss in a hot stream aimed at his asshole. The golden liquid flows over his balls, down the length of his stiff cock. It makes him so excited he comes, and his thick white come falls in a mixture with my pee. After that, I make them dress me again, making sure they know what every part of real woman feels like. Their hands explore every inch of me as they dress me, making sure I look neat and crisp. After they get themselves dressed, they each kiss the gloved hand that jacked them off. The last one drops to his knees and plants a chaste kiss on the fly of my pants. I give them another stern warning about bad behavior and how much trouble it could land them in, and then I let them get back in their car and leave." "Some story." I was flushed and panting. I had really gotten in to telling it, especially the part where I squat over the guy. I was squishy and quivering between my legs, from the excitement and from the need to pee again after several soft drinks. I squirmed a little, hoping he would notice. "You look like you need to piss." A flush of excitement went through me. I hopped off the bar stool I had been sitting on. "Third floor?" He smiled a little and laid his hand palm up on the stool where I had been sitting. "Sit back down again for a second." I looked quickly around to see if anyone was looking at us. I got back on the stool, letting my skirt fall around the edge. That way no one could see that I was sitting on his hand, and he could feel my pussy through the damp cloth of my panties. I sat right on his palm. His fingers came up and squeezed my ass. I shifted and he brought his thumb out to brush against my pubic hair. I was shaking and I felt my cheeks burning hot. "Really gotta go?" "Uh-huh." "Then fill my hand. But no more than that, just a splash." "But, but..." I didn't think I could do it. I felt like if I started, I wouldn't be able to stop. I'd be sitting there pissing myself and his hand and the stool and my skirt and everyone would stop talking and look at me. "Well?" He gave my pussy a little squeeze. If I didn't do it on my own it was going to happen without any chance of me controlling it. I already felt my bladder letting go inside me. As soon as I felt the warm wetness on the walls of my pussy I held my breath and squeezed every muscle I could to make it stop. His hand was trapped between my legs as I clenched everything. I felt the wetness spread through my panties. For a horrifying moment I thought that I wasn't able to stop myself, before I realized that it was my first spurt soaking in. I was barely in control. "Ready?" I hopped up, nodding wordlessly. I thought that if I took in the air to speak it would put me over the edge. I was dancing on tiptoe, squeezing my thighs together. "Let's go then." He pulled his damp hand out from under my skirt and led me up the stairs. I wanted to run, but he took the steps at a reasonable pace, even stopping once to acknowledge someone's greeting. I thought I was going to explode. Finally we got up to the third floor bathroom we had used before. He let me in first. Just the sight of the bowl almost made me start to pee. "Not yet. Just stand over the bowl and grab your skirt." I planted one foot on either side of the toilet and pulled up my skirt. Behind me I heard his pants open and drop. I felt his hands on my ass, peeling down the wet cotton. I was making little animal sounds in my throat, trying to keep my water from exploding out of me. Suddenly I felt the warmth of his soft cock slip into the space between my ass and the rolled down panties. His cock head just touched my pussy. Maybe he would have said to let myself go just then, but as soon as I felt his cock touch me I lost control completely. My pee flooded out of me in a great spurt that I couldn't stop. I knew my pee was foaming up around the head of his cock, drowning it in my hot piss. I felt a strong counter current suddenly forcing itself forwards, and I realized he was peeing with me. Our mixed liquids spilled out around my panties on all sides, falling in sheets down my legs. I felt his pee shooting through the lips of my pussy, swirling around my clit before spilling out into my pussy hair to fall like rain into the bowl. As we finished emptying our bladders I gulped for air, trying to stop the hyperventilation of excitement. He reached around my waist and began to slowly rub my soaking panties into my pussy. I moaned and pushed back, grinding my ass against his hips. He kept up a slow powerful stroke and in a minute I was crying out from the explosion of an orgasm that shook my whole body. I straightened up, turned around and kissed him so hard I probably made his lip bleed. "Now. I want to see it now. I want to see that big, sweet cock of yours all long and stiff and hard. You've made me come twice now, as hard as ever I have before today. Let me make you come, please." "Are you speaking as a real woman? 'Cause I might need some roadside assistance." "Well, I don't have my gloves on me at the moment, but my mouth will do just fine." He smiled that real slow smile. I made him strip me, tossing my clothes into the sink. I made him touch me all over as he undressed me, stroking my skin, squeezing my breasts. I sat down on the toilet and showed him how I wanted him to pass my wet panties around the back of the bowl and pin my legs there by the ankles. First I leaned forward to kiss his cock. I stuck out my tongue as far as I could and licked the last drop of urine off his head. Running my hands up the back of his thighs, I nuzzled the wiry pubic hair that his cock was surrounded by. I gathered the spit in my mouth and took his whole cock inside. I love to feel a man grow hard inside my mouth. I wrestled his cock with my tongue, like we were French kissing. I slowly pulled away and let it slide wetly out between my lips before licking it up again. Whether by his nature or on account of the alcohol, he took a while to respond to my sucking on him. It was all the same to me, I was happy to hold his soft flesh in my mouth, from tip to base, my face pressed into his hair. He began to respond, and I felt the blood begin to stir in his flesh. I sucked harder as he slowly filled and overfilled my mouth. I brought up one hand to hold him at the base as he grew too much for me to keep inside. I pumped him tightly with my hand and he stiffened completely. Leaning back, I pulled him forward until he was leaning over me. Maintaining my grip on the base of his cock, I wet my other hand repeatedly and slicked the space between my breasts. I leaned back against the cool ceramic of the toilet and pulled him forward. He straddled the toilet and me on it. I put his wet cock into the wet space I had made for it, then pushed my breasts in and over it, making tunnel of warm flesh. He began fucking my breasts. My fingers crept over to my nipples to pinch them. I looked down. I could see the head of his cock appear and disappear between my breasts, rubbing slickly against my sternum. We stopped for a minute to let me slick up his cock again in my mouth, then he went back to fucking my chest. His easy sliding motion became more and more spastic. As his cock rose from the tunnel I had made for it, the head was red, then purple, fully engorged. I pressed my breasts together as hard as I could. I felt a new wetness in the cleft of my breasts, sudden and hot. His cock pressed forward again, covered in white come. He stopped moving and I watched the rest of his come spill out onto my chest. He grew soft again quickly. I picked him out of the white puddle on my chest and put him back in my mouth. I sucked his last come off of him while I smeared the rest across my breasts, working it into the stiff red nipples. It sent a charge through me, twitching my legs apart. Leaving one breast alone, my hand slid between my thighs. I brought myself to orgasm again with his cock limpid and resting in my mouth, my little mewlings of desire and release almost strangled by his presence. We cleaned up afterwards as best we could, ourselves and the bathroom. My stretched, sopping panties we threw in the garbage. It gave me a little thrill, thinking of standing around, making small talk bare-assed till I left. Correction, WE left. "Don't think I'm letting you go," I said. "It's not everyday you meet a guy at a party that can turn you inside out a couple of times in a couple of hours." "Why do you think I'm going anywhere? You still haven't introduced me to your leather gloves." We both smiled, real slow, and kissed. Sisters Ng: Center of Attention by Marieanne Kelso Dear Deidre Ng, You've been so nice as to share your delightful adventures with the world through the venue of alt.sex.stories. I felt it was time to return the favor. I work for a public radio staion. We take as much voluteer effort as we can, since we are chronically underfunded. The local university sends us its communications arts majors and we are only too happy to accept. They do all kinds of work, and the more they know, the more responsibility we give them. One kid in particular I worked very closely with his whole four years in college. He started as a go-fer, he wound up this past semester with his own late night talk show. Such a nice kid, my husband and I had him over for Thanksgiving last year, when his travel plans fell through and he was stuck at school for the holiday. It turned out he was a member of a fraternity, Chi Phi. Towards the end of the semester he called at home and invited my husband to a party that his fraternity was holding. He said it was a way of saying thank you for us taking him in last Thanksgiving. Much to my suprise, my husband accepted. Unfortunately, I was not invited. I was a little ticked off, my husband going out to a party without me, I was the one who knew the kid after all. Anyway I decided to go out with some girlfriends that night rather than stay home feeling miffed. We were sitting in a booth at a local diner, talking, laughing, drinking coffee, daring each other to order cheesecake. Four women in their forties, professionals, educated, we knew each other well. I was having a good time. We had a booth that looked out one of the plate glass windows in the front. Well, along comes this guy, stops and looks at his watch, looks at a slip of paper in his shirt pocket. Jeans, work boots, short sleeved dress shirt. Lean well muscled body stretching the fabric. Open handsome face. He was the poster boy for rugged good looks. One by one we took notice of this guy and the conversation dwindled away. There was a public phone across the street, he made a call and came back across. Looking up and down the street he waited. Then he turned and came into the diner. We all watched unabashedly as he sat on a stool at the counter. "You know," said a friend, "sometimes my pussy has a mind of its own." "Second the motion." "Third," I said. "Unanimous, passed on a voice vote." "I get him first," said my first friend. "I'll get him ready for you." "Back rub." "Front rub. "Yours or his?" I laughed. None of us could take our eyes off this hunk who was doing nothing sexier than ordering coffee. "Both. His on mine." "I want to pinch his ass." "You'll have to move my hand to do it." "Think he knows how to play 'Postman'?" "If he doesn't I'll teach him." "He can lick my stamp anytime." "I've got postage due already." "You mean postage D-E-W." "Yes I do, and my dew is due to his voodoo, and what's true for me is true for you, too." She had that right. I could feel the dewdrops forming between my legs as we bantered. There was probably a cloud of pheromones rising from the four of us in that booth big enough to raise an erection on an octegenarian. Four ladies turned into bitches in heat by one head- turningly handsome guy sipping coffee. Like our biology had jerked our chain and reminded us that pleasant conversation didn't satisfy every human need. I got home about eleven o'clock. I was thinking that Bill was going to be happy that handsome stranger had crossed my path, because the best way I could think of working off my tension involved him. Probably the same thing was happening at each of my girlfriends' homes about now also. The only problem was that Bill wasn't home yet. About fifteen minutes later I had just finished with my makeup and my contact lenses. I was getting more and more irritated with Bill for not being home. My arousal had been building too. I stripped and put on a tee shirt and shorts to wait up for him. Just pulling the cotton fabric over my breasts sent a surge through me. I thought about a vibe session before he came home. I thought about sitting in bed reading, or pretending to read, while I flirted with orgasm from the buzzing tip of my vibrator. Maybe slip the thing into the baggy opening of the leg of my shorts, see if the cloth would hold it in place for me. By the end of course the shorts would be down around my ankles and all pretense would be gone and I'd be holding on for dear life as two C batteries and an electric motor in a hard plastic shell drove me ever closer to the thing that set them and me apart. Just thinking about it made it hard to move without being very aware of my clit getting rubbed with every motion of my thighs. Bill better get home soon, I thought, or he'll find himself playing second fiddle to Mr. Robinson. The future is, indeed, plastic. Just then the phone rang. I picked it up and knew immediately it was bad news. I could hardly hear the kid at the other end over the music, he must have been shouting into the phone to be heard at all. Could I come and collect Bill from the Chi Phi house just off campus? He'd had too much to drink it seems. I slammed the phone down and scooped up my keys and purse and headed out the door so angry I didn't stop to think about what I was wearing, or rather not wearing. No bra, no panties, nothing on my feet. Damn you Bill, why are you doing this to me? It was five minute ride over to the frat house. I only got angrier. I could hear the music as I parked across the street. They let me in to the foyer of a big run down colonial. I'd heard they spent all their money on a pool out back. The door opened to a gust of pure maleness, the smell of beer and sweat and men that was so tangible it almost rocked me back on my heels, as did the music. I stepped over the threshold into one of the last preserves of wild, free range testosterone. I just wanted to extract my bit of man from the maelstrom and leave. Men will be boys, I thought. The carpet squished from beer under my feet as I realised I had no shoes on. My acquaintance met me. He was holding a bottle of Pete's Wicked in one hand, it seemed to be the beer of choice, judging by the empty bottles littering the floor. In this element he was just another frat boy, partying away. Shouting over the music he said Bill was in the living room and I'd need to help him to the car. My anger flared again. It seemed I couldn't get to the living room without navigating a course through the mass of frat boys clogging the rooms and halls of the house. They were happily crushed together, drinking laughing, shouting. I squeezed my way through, suffering inadvertent collisions, bumps and jostles. I was now very aware of what I didn't have on, as I had to rub not only elbows with boy after boy as I tried to get through. I tried to protect my breasts but the passage was often too narrow and I needed my elbows to blaze a trail for the rest of me to follow. Of necessity I rubbed and was rubbed repeatedly until I popped out into the living room, propelled by the pressure in the hallway like a pumpkin seed squirting out from between your fingers. There was Bill, sitting slumped over in a kitchen chair that had been dragged in for extra seating. I figured him to be drunk asleep, even with the music louder here than anywhere. You idiot, I thought, how could you do this to me, drag me out here, ruin the whole night. There was no way I was going to lift him by myself. I looked around for my acquaintance, he apparently hadn't followed me into the living room. There was a guy standing nearby, his back to me. He was wearing a yellow shirt emblazoned with the following message: "Leader of the Pack, President 96." Pretty safe to assume he sort of was in charge, I thought. Maybe he could help me dragoon some help shifting Bill to the car. I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and gave me a big smile. "Hey, glad you're here." He grabbed my shoulders and planted a kiss right on my lips. I was so shocked I didn't know quite how to respond as he continued. "Look, I know it was kinda short notice, you're really helpin' us out." "Well, I gotta tell ya, I'm pissed about this," I said. "Look at this sleeping beauty here, I'm supposed to take care of him myself?" "Him? Don't worry about him. We can put him upstairs in bed after you leave and he'll never know the difference. He'll think he had a great time, just like everyone else, courtesy of you. Now if you'll just excuse me for one minute, I have to perform my master of ceremonies act." He stood on the chair next to Bill and started waving for somebody near the stereo to cut the music. After some hand waving across the room he got someone's attention and the music cut off in mid-boom. More waving and the boys started pouring in from the hall and the kitchen and the back porch. The whole time I was thinking to myself, well why didn't you think of that before I came over? The room was standing room only now and he motioned for quiet. "I know its not fun to have a party be interrupted by a speech, so I'll keep this as short as possible. I hope you've all been having a great time tonight..." A rousing cheer went up. " ...and I'm sure we'll all be having a lot more fun in just a little while." Another rousing cheer. "I want to take this opportunity to introduce you to a special lady, someone who came over to our party on very short notice to do us a big favor." The crowd went wild. I was mystified and angry. Everyone was looking at me now and clapping and cheering. I was just picking up my drunken husband, had he been putting such a cramp in their style? The frat president continued his talk. "I know it takes a certain amount of courage for a lady to enter a frat house. I have the privilege of introducing..." He turned to me. "What's you're name again, honey?" I bristled at his familiarity. "Marieanne Kelso" "As I said, introducing Marieanne Kelso." Again thunderous applause. I smiled hesitantly, thinking that this must be some elaborate frat joke. "I'll take this opportunity to ask Marieanne some of those questions we would all like to know the answers to, first how you feel about your job. You're a professional lady, right? "Right." This was just absurd. Whatever the game was I decided to play it straight. "Every job has something you hate, what about you?" "I hate cleaning up after everyone else, and I hate kissing ass." Laughter and applause. "And what do you love about your job?" I thought about what I did at the radio station. Maybe my acquiantance had told them where I worked. I said, "I really enjoy putting on a good show. Now can we get this over with?" My last sentence was drowned out by a huge cheer from the frat boys. I didn't know so many of them were fans of public radio. Again he spoke. "Marieanne just said to me that she wants to get going, something I know you appreciate and a sentiment we all share. So if you'll all just hold your horses, pardon the expression..." Here he leered out at the crowd. "... I'll finish making arrangements." He stepped down off the chair. I looked at him. He turned his back to the crowd, most of whom seemed to be ignoring us, turning away also. I turned with him to face Bill, still slumped in the chair. "Was all that necessary," I asked? "Of course. Don't you want them to know your name? Now, exactly what do you want. There's about fifty guys here." "All I want is two of them to help me take Bill here out to my car. Then I'm gone." He looked at me incredulously. "Well, great for him, but what about the rest of these guys?" "What about them?" "What do you mean, what about them? Aren't you the whore?" Wasn't I the whore? I didn't know whether to laugh or cry or slap his face. I felt a flush, and a sweat, across my body. At that moment I might as well have been wearing nothing, because that's how I felt, completely naked. The room was suddenly quiet, an expectant hush filled the air. I felt that creepy eyes-on-you, being-looked-at-from-behind kind of feeling. I turned around. Fifty college frat boys holding their cocks. Stroking their erections. Some just poked through the fly of their pants. Some had their pants down around their ankles already. Cocks waving in the air, hands sliding up and down. Looking at me. Waiting. What was it my friend had said earlier in the evening? Sometimes my pussy has a mind of its own. I started to salivate and my breath came in heaving gasps. My nipples pushed forward on breasts that seemed to swell as I breathed. Certainly they could see them pushing up under my shirt. Between my legs an endless series of little spasms was shaking my cunt. What was I staring at? Fifty cocks, all waiting for me. One kid, straight in front of me, looking right at me, hand pumping hard on his cock and suddenly his thick white cum jumped up from the head and fell across his hand, still pumping. I watched it roll in slow motion across his fingers, white globs of cum sliding off to drop on the carpet in front of him. As his cum hit the floor the night's frustrations all clicked into place for me. I took a deep breath and stood up on the chair. "I just want to say a few words before we get started. I look around this room, and I see more boys than men. You don't need a whore, you boys. You need a babysitter to tuck you into bed. You wouldn't know what to do with a whore. First off, let me tell you, a whore is a woman, and a woman is a lady, and don't you forget it, or you'll never get anything worth having from any whore, or any woman, or any lady. Maybe you think you know the body of a whore, it's got three parts, right. Two breasts and a pussy, what else do you need to know? Let's start the anatomy lesson. From the top. Hair, I hope you like mine." I played my fingers through it. I have fine curly blond hair. Usually no problem getting a compliment. "We'll get to more hair later so I won't dwell on it. What comes next is the most important thing, so listen up. Brains. What do you want me thinking about during sex? All men would agree, not how much I'm paying the babysitter, not whether my checkbook balances. All men would rather I thought about them. That requires a certain amount of cooperation on your part. If you want really great sex, make love to me up here. "Eyes. Mine are light blue. Make eye contact. "Mouth. Kiss me all over and I'll return the favor. I reached down and pulled my tee shirt off. Cupping my breasts I made a show of fondling them. I didn't need to speak, I had their attention. Maybe my breasts had grown heavy and dropped over the years, but my nipples were still beautiful, large and hard now as I played with them, getting harder and darker as I pinched them and little shocks passed through me, convulsing my cunt, making my clit throb. Maybe I was the first mature woman these boys had seen, they'd better get used to what they were seeing now, learn to love the fullness, the soft edges on everything. "Breasts. Even a baby knows what to do. It's hard to go wrong, just take your time." I got down off the chair. I put my hands under the elastic of my shorts and slid them over my thighs. The crowd of boys and cocks surged forward. The ones in front were just a few feet away, I could smell them, could already smell the cum on them and in them. I sat down and the frat president forced the ones in front to kneel so the ones behind could see. In the back they were standing on the furniture for a view. "This is it, boys, the main event. You see, I told you we'd come back to hair. Before I show you whats between my legs I have to say that I think I would be doing you a disservice if I just showed it to you and didn't show you also how it works. Just remember the parable of the tortise and the hare - slow and steady wins the race." And then I did it. I opened my legs for the viewing pleasure of fifty boys at once. There was an audible groan as I teased my pussy lips apart and my pink interior came into full view. I slid down in the chair so that my pussy was completely visible and lifted my legs. They were completely enthralled as I licked my fingers and bathed my pussy with my spit. "Boys, do this next part right and you'll always get invited back for more." My fingers ran in slow circles around my clit. I watched them watching me, some of them were so intent on the motion of my hand that their mouths hung open and their heads rolled in circles to match my motion. I felt the flush spread like fire between my breasts, a clear sign if they noticed of how excited I was. I thought about what I was about to do, how I was going to take some part of each of these fifty boys. My circling started to accelerate as I thought of fifty cocks and I imagined the cum spurting fifty times fifty pairs of eyes watching me come back arching feel it coming watch me boys fifty spurting coming coming coming Shouting moaning shaking hips bouncing on the seat ass rocking back and forth. I opened my eyes, at least ten of them had come with me. As I sat there catching my breath the frat president stood next to me. Somewhere he had lost his pants and now wore just the yellow tee shirt that was his mark of office. His cock bobbed thick and strong next to my head. "I think it's time to introduce Marieanne to some of our Chi Phi traditions. First is the Manhandling. It's not what it sounds like Marieanne, don't get worried. Just relax." That wasn't hard, it would have been hard for me to do anything else. They picked me up and passed me around, held over the heads of the boys, always supported by ten or fifteen different hands on every part of me. Everyone must have gotten a chance to touch me, I felt all different kinds of hands on me. While some were holding me, others were rearranging the furniture. The rectangular coffee table got pulled to the center of the room and covered with cushions from the sofa. They brought me down to rest there. "Next, there is a pecking order at Chi Phi, even for peckers. Our first and second year members don't have the privelege of your body yet, not completely." They came to me in groups, whoevever could fit around me as I lay on the impromptu divan. They were naked now, like me. Their cocks were stiff and full. They knelt and stood around me. Those that were kneeling rubbed me all over with their cockflesh, using my skin as their tool for pleasure. Cocks rubbed against me on my cheeks, nuzzling my ear. I felt them on my breasts, cockheads sliding my nipples into their wet slits. Cocks slid across my stomach and thighs. They lifted my legs and fucked the the back of my knees. They fucked the crook of my elbow and my armpit. I even felt cocks tickling the soles of my feet. Overhead the ones who stood held their cocks out over me as they stroked and stroked. One by one they beagan to climax. I gasped as the sprays of cum hit me all over, fell on me from above. Boys would satisy themselves on me and their place would be taken by another, who would lubricate his cock with the cum left by first. Hands reached in, wiped the pools of cum around on me, finger painting. The boys at my breasts held my nipples to their cockheads as they came, and they or the next rubbed it around on my breast and still others reached into the mass of masturbating boys to squeeze my cum covered nipples between fingers lubricated with cum. I nearly came again myself when they did that. I licked a thread of cum off my lips and gave myself up to the pleasure of being decorated by their orgasms. Soon the upper level boys came forward and I began to take them in my hands and mouth. I always had at least two going at a time. It was easy to take some of the cum I was covered with and lubricate their cocks with it. Then my hands and mouth slid easily over them. Most of them were so excited by watching and waiting for their turn that they came very quickly, like they were still teenagers. Finally the governing council of the fraternity took their turn. They turned me over, onto all fours, and took me two by two, one at each end. I rocked back and forth between cocks, pulling off one as the other went in deeper, then back the other way. Sometimes the rhythm changed and it was in together, out together, feeling either skewered or stretched. The ones who had come before watched me fuck and suck them, pulling lazily at their soft cocks. When the first cock came between my legs I groaned as he slid into me. I had gotten so aroused again by all the cocks and cum on me, the smell and touch of so many men. He slid deep deep into my cunt. It was hard to concentrate on blowing the guy in front of me, the guy behind me was giving it to me so well. Soon I could feel them both racing towards their orgasm. The guy in front came into my mouth and I milked his cock with one hand while I sucked and licked his cum out of him. Behind me he pulled out at the last second and filled my ass crack with his cum. Each pair went the same way, coming in my mouth or on my ass. As the president's cock slipped from my mouth I thought my performance was finally coming to a close. So I was quite suprised to hear him say, "And for our piece de resistance, our Member Alumni Emeritus, Mr. Bill Kelso!" Bill! I had completely forgotten! Now there he was behind me, naked, erect. His cock slipped into me like an old friend. His finger started to rub my ass with the collected cum of the frat boys. With noone in front of me I could finally reach between my legs and finger my clit as he fucked me. We found our old familiar rhythm and soon our bodies were slapping together. The boys cheered us on. I was fingering myself like mad and Bill was getting stiffer and stiffer and then we were coming together, heaving and moaning like our honeymoon. After Bill slipped out of me they carried me outside to the pool. They lowered me into the warm water and washed the cum off me. Then they towelled me off and presented me with my clothes. Bill and I said good night to the frat boys, him perfectly sober after all. They all shook his hand, and kissed my hand as if that was the only way we could have touched. At home Bill admitted he had thought it up for me, a present he said. Of course I said thank you. What else is a lady to say? Sisters Ng: Check It Out! by Deidre Ng I love Zabar's, they have the best bagels, better than H&H. I was standing there last Thursday night, waiting on line. All I had was a block of Parmesan cheese that it had taken me half an hour to pick out. It usually takes forever to check out. I was standing behind this guy, kinda short but still taller than me. The place was crowded so I got shoved up against him. Well, I took one breath and wham! his scent hit me over the head like a ton of bricks. My knees went weak and watery, my heart sped up and I started to tingle all over, but especially between my legs. He had a whole bunch of stuff that he was buying. The cashier picked up each item and swiped it across the bar code reader. She was a beautiful big Italian girl, dark and voluptuous, dark curls cascading down around a heart shaped face. Sometimes I wish I looked like that, strong earthy and inviting. Anyway, there she was, rolling can after can across the scanner, while he waited patiently, looking absently at the prices flashing past on the readout. I don't suppose that either of them knew or cared that I had suddenly become aroused by the smell of this guy. He was putting stuff up on the counter for her. I watched his hands move. He had big beefy hands and strong forearms. I watched, dry mouthed as his muscles rippled back and forth. His fingers were thick and short, meaty and strong. All of a sudden I imagined what it would feel like to have his hand between my legs. My pussy clenched in an involuntary spasm of pleasure at the thought of one of his thick fingers stuffed into me, pulling slowly out against the clinging grasp of my tight little pussy, sliding back in with a slick swiftness that made me gasp. I must have let out a little gasp for real. The cashier stopped in her routine to look up at me, and the guy turned to look at me for the first time. "Um, nothing, I was just clearing my throat. Really." He looked at me with interest. All of a sudden the register beeped. "Oh, shit, the computer just went down!" Everyone else line drifted away, cursing the electronic fates. "I really suppose I should stay. I'm halfway checked out already." "I only have one item." "What are you buying?" "Parmesan cheese." "Is that all?" "Yes" I suppose that that "yes" should have meant "yes, that's all", but I think it came out sounding like the "yes" in "yes, I'd really like you to fuck me right now". "Well, I'm buying handmade spinach fettucine and the ripest Beefsteak tomatos in town. I love to have chopped tomatos, lightly sauteed in olive oil, over fettucine, topped with freshly grated Parmesano. Doesn't that sound great? Makes my mouth water, thinking about it." "You sure know how to make a girl hungry." It must have sounded like I was asking for him to fuck me, but I could picture the serrated knife sliding across the skin of the tomato, the skin peeling back away from the slight pressure, parting like the full, lush lips of my pussy as the juices run out over the blade of the knife as it plunges deeper into the heart of the ripe vegetable. The cashier was blushing so deeply that she had to stop staring at me and pat her cheeks lightly to recover her composure. She went to find the manager. "Only a girl buying Parmesan cheese. Look, my name is Tony DiMartino. I would be willing to cook exactly that meal for you, if you'd like to find out how your Parmesano goes with my fettucine." "Oh, Tony, I'd love to suck your fettucine, I mean my Parmesan would be so grateful if you..., I mean of course you could cook me." "I think you're talking about more than just food." "Um, Tony, I don't usually do this standing on line at Zabar's, but seeing as there's noone else around right now I'd really like to lift the front of my skirt and have you put your hand between my legs and push my panties over to the side and slide your finger over my pussylips and then..." "Will you let me make you that fettucine?" "Yes" "OK" Tammy sez: Wow! A whole page to myself! Tammy On The Big Screen by Tammy Ng She saw herself sitting in an empty movie theater. She was sitting in the last row, eating popcorn. In the dark she slouched, and her skirt rode up her thighs. She felt the cool air of the air conditioning tickling her pubic hair as she spread her legs. Popcorn scattered across her skirt as her hand slid through her wiry tuft to play with the glowing pulse she felt throbbing between her legs. On the screen she watched herself get up and leave the theater. She was in a large mall, and it seemed that all the stores were dark and empty. She walked along the upper level, window shopping in the dark. Then she saw one bright light, one store that was improbably open. Its a barber shop, very old style. Inside she saw a man sweeping up, apparently one of the barbers. He was young and handsome, slightly built with a closely trimmed beard. She stepped inside the store, making the bell ring. The young barber looked up from arranging his tools. He was holding a straight razor, and as she walked further into the shop he began to strop it back and forth slowly on the strap that hung from his chair. She came to a stop facing him from the other side of the big chair. Smiling, she reached down and lifted the hem of her skirt to reveal her thigh, almost to reveal her pussy. "I think I need a shave," she said. He nodded wordlessly and motioned her into the chair. He jacked the chair up, tugging repeatedly on the arm that raises the chair on its mechanism. He reclined the chair back so that she faced the ceiling. She lifted her legs and spread them so that her skirt fell back to show her thighs. He stood between her legs. A little machine on the shelf under the mirror dispensed hot shaving cream. He gathered a little into his hand and spread in a line along her leg. Then he passed the razor up the line of hot foam, collecting it with the cool steel blade, pressing slightly to slice the follicle just below the skin. He started at her ankles, alternating legs, repeating over and over the application of the hot cream and the stroke of the cool blade. Up her lower legs, over her knees, down her thighs he traveled. He motioned her to slouch forward, and when she did he lathered the space between her pussy and thigh. With short sure strokes he shaved her, not the hair of her pussy itself, but just around the edge to the base of her thighs. Everywhere that the razor has passed over her, her skin felt taut and silken smooth. The hot foam and cool naked blade inching closer and closer to her pussy left her damp and expectant. She smelled her musk mingled with the scent of the foam. He cleaned the last pile of foam from the edge of his blade, stropped it again a few times as he looked over her smooth skin. He ran a soft terry towel over her legs to catch any stray particle of foam and it was so unexpected that she gasped and arched her back in pleasure and surprise. He took out a comb and began to comb the hair around her pussy. She lifted her legs and spread them wide to give him access to her. He took the strands of her hair and began to braid them, making a long row across the top of her pubic region that doubled back and forth across her mound like a snake, growing fatter as her hair thickened near her pussy. Right at the apex of her slit the braid split into two, which he carefully tied down each side of her pussy. He worked silently, his hands pulling gently at her hair, working the plaits deftly over and under in the tight space between her legs. The tugging on her hair was transmitted to her skin and translated into little shifts and almost imperceptible movements of the folds of her cunt, back and forth around her clitoris as he worked the braid closer and closer to her clit. When he wove the complex braid above her clit to make the connection to the two side braids, his nimble fingers brushed back and forth right over her clit, leaving her breathless and an inch, a breath, a motion from climax. Then he finished the side braids and stood back to examine his work. He held up a mirror between her legs to show her his work, and she saw that there was now a crisp line around her pussy on one side of which was smooth hairless skin and on the other was the intricate braid of her uncut hair, twisting around the swollen folds of her pussy. She traced the line of the braid with a finger, inviting him to watch her as she watched herself in the mirror. But he seemed not to care for watching her and returned to putting away his tools and cleaning up. He returned her to upright and lowered the chair, and the folds of her skirt fell around her silken skin and concealed her braided pussy from view. Offering no more payment than a chaste kiss on the cheek, she turned and left the shop, the bell ringing behind her exit. She rode the down escalator, and walked past the still fountain in the center of the darkened mall. At the far end she saw another store with the light still on. A Joan and David shoe store. Looking through the window she could see a young clerk straightening the displayed shoes, reboxing items unwanted by customers. She pushed through the door, and somewhere an electronic buzz announced her entrance. The clerk jumped at the sound, rushing forward to meet her. He was handsome, slightly built, with a short beard and glasses. "I need some shoes. Perhaps you have what I want. Black. Open toe. Spike heel, about four inches tall. Strap around the heel. Show what you have." She sat in one of the customer chairs, while he pulled over one of the stools on which shoe clerks sit. When he was positioned in front of her she slouched forward, letting her skirt creep up her thigh. She put her foot not on the slanted part of the stool, but on his thigh, and rubbed it back and forth. "Fit me," she said. He nervously placed her foot into the measuring stick and took her measurements. He seemed flustered and kept rechecking the measurement as his eyes drifted up and down her legs, from ankle to skirt hem. Then he jumped up and almost ran for the stock room. He returned in a few minutes with four boxes of shoes. Black, open toed, spike heeled with a strap. She made him fit her in each. On the tight ones she had him grasp her calf and push her foot down into shoe, leaving the mark of his sweaty palm on her smooth skin. She made him buckle them with her leg outstretched and resting on his thigh. To look at them she didn't stand, but planted her feet on the slanting board of the stool and twisted her legs about, sometimes deliberately opening her legs and letting her skirt fall back to let the clerk catch a glimpse of her pussy for a second. Finally she opted for the second pair, which was the tightest, and made him fit her in them all over again. This time she spread her legs wide open and crossed her legs at the ankle right above her pussy. "How do I look?", she asked. She parted her ankles for a long moment as he gulped, looking longingly at her pussy with its braid. "You know what they call these shoes, don't you?" He nodded yes, then no, then yes again before giving up on answering directly. "I think there's something wrong with the stitching on the buckle of this one," she said. "I think you should look at it very closely." He knelt in front of her and leaned close to examine the buckle, and the pussy right behind it. As he did, she looped the other leg around him, pressing on his neck with her ankle, dragging him closer and closer, finally sliding the other foot out of the way of her pussy and crossing them both around his neck, pushing his head down between her legs. With a little cry he buried his face in her pussy. She had just closed her eyes, his tongue was just about to slide across her clit when the phone rang. The clerk jumped up, breaking the embrace of her legs and rushed to the cash register to answer it. From his replies it seemed that the caller was the store manager wondering what he was doing there so late and why wasn't the register off. Had he done the price reductions on the brown pumps? Balanced perfectly on her new shoes, she left the clerk stammering his explanations, looking longingly after her, as she left with the raucous buzz of the door. Now the mall seemed totally dark. She passed back and forth on both levels and saw nothing open still, until, looking down a side branch she was sure she had checked before, she saw a light. It was dim, and came from the few small candles of a restaurant. She went in, and nothing announced her entrance. All the chairs were put up, except at one little table, where a young handsome slightly built waiter was eating by himself. When he saw her he got up and offered her his seat. He gave her a menu and said sadly that the kitchen was almost totally closed, but he could get her a dessert if she wanted. She ordered a hot fudge sundae. He brought it out quickly and hovered near her. She placed the napkin in her lap demurely. Then she scooped up a fingerful of the hot fudge from the side of the sundae and leaned forward to lick it up. She wasn't quick enough, and some of it fell on her napkin. She playfully continued to lick and finally suck her finger clean before turning to the waiter. "I'm afraid I've made a little mess here. Could you help with this?" He bent to remove her napkin, because she made no motion to lift it from her lap. As he reached for it she parted her legs, making it fall to the ground. As he bent further, his head dropped to the level of her legs. Before he could straighten up, she took another dollop of the fudge and ran it along the lips of her pussy. He caught her finger as it ran along her pussylips, smearing her folds with the warm fudge. He sucked it clean. He kissed the inside of he thighs and with a great sigh of relief and desire she raised and spread her legs, hooking the long heels of her shoes over the edge of the table. He cleaned her cat-like with his tongue, delving into her, tracing her folds and curves with his tonguetip. Her head fell back and her eyes shut. She watched the image of herself on the screen, the end in sight, arching, moaning. She was herself near the end, arching and moaning, her fingers sticky with her juice. The long spike heels of her shoes hooked over the row of seats in front of her as the film ran off the end and the screen went white and the world went white like the inside of a flashbulb as she held herself open for the tongue of the handsome young man whose face was buried in her pussy and the empty theater was filled with her cry. Tammy In the Rain by Tammy Ng Dear Deidre, My sister goes to Greece and all I get is her cat for two weeks. Is there justice when she gets fucked morning and night, cavorts naked with her boyfriend on a pristine private beach and enjoys leisurely romantic evenings while I have to deal with psycho-demoncat knocking over my potted plants, my music stand, pissing on my sheet music and generally making life miserable? Is there? How wonderful, Dear Sister, that you came home with your already lubricious artistic juices lubricated still more. Well the world must be told how the other half lived. For two of the hottest, muggiest weeks in the history of New York, I was possessed of a cat that was, itself, possessed. It's name was Jasmine, but it quickly became known as the Hell Spawn of Azathoth. Anything this cat could do to annoy the crap out of me and my boyfriend it did two or three times a day, just to remind us that being watched by us wasn't its idea of a good time either. It wouldn't play with any of the cute toys you graciously left us. It obviously thought its litter box should be in the middle of the living room floor, because thats where it kicked all the litter. It redecorated the bedroom in early hairball and vomit spots, graciously depositing during the night so that when we got up in the morning our bare feet would go squish into them. Needless to say, we took to avoiding the cat as much as possible, which was easy when we were in the living room, since it seemed to be terrified of us there, hiding behind the couch whenever we were in the room. But the bedroom was another story. The little creature seemed to think our bedroom was its playground. Especially the bed. Especially at night. We made the mistake of trying to make love with the cat in the room, once. I was lying on my back, getting a real nice slow fuck when the smoke colored furball jumped up onto the pillow. The next thing I know there's a paw on my nose. I tried jutting out my lower jaw and blowing air at it. 'Scat' had never worked. It got up and put its front paws on my tits and stood, sniffing my boyfriends face. His face smelled alot like my pussy at that moment, since he had just been spending a wonderful bit of time with his face between my legs, his tongue fucking me while his nose tickled my clit. My juice must have been all over him. "Maybe it wants to know what the competition smells like," he said. I said something like "Mrfl burf burble fm." The cat was basically sitting on my mouth. He picked up the cat gently and dumped her off the bed. She circled for a bit on the rug as we tried to recover the romance of the moment. I pulled him down on top of me, kissing him, smelling and tasting myself. I curled my self under him a little more and my feet came up around him. His cock sunk into me that extra bit that feels so good when you get absolutely wide open and your angle is just right and you're extra slick and tight inside and your pussy just won't let go and he starts fucking you really hard and faster and he's right up to his balls inside you and you want it all just all of it stuffed into you and you feel him getting big inside you and you know he's gonna come in you and you're so hot yourself, your cunt's so tight and quivering you're gonna come for sure when he starts shooting it into you and its just a little, just, just THEN that the little shit sinks its teeth into my big toe about an inch and I jump about a foot and scream and his cock pops out of me as I try to throw the pillow at the thing as it dives for the space under the dresser. I was bleeding from these puncture holes and it hurt like hell and I sat there crying, holding some tissues to my toe as my boyfriend lost his erection as he tried to calm me down and look at my toe. So we tried closing the door, but it yowled like we were torturing it, which we both felt like doing, and thats when it knocked over the music stand and pissed on my Mozart. It looked like celibacy was the only option. Neither of us wanted to risk getting naked in the same apartment as that cat. "We could go to some really arty movie house and go down on each other in the back row." "We could pay a cab to sit in traffic on the FDR Drive while we fucked in the back seat." "We could check in to the Carlyle for the evening." "What about that practice room at Julliard where we..." "I don't have the key any more. What about that friend of yours that had no place to go with his girlfriend, and we let them fuck in our apartment while we went to the opera or something?" "They broke up last month. I couldn't call him now." I shouldn't have brought it up. I was already horny enough. Remembering that night just made it worse. He had this friend who was at NYU who had a roommate that wouldn't go along with having the girl sleep over. So in this fit of generosity we said sure come on over, we'll make ourselves scarce, just don't break anything, we'll even do the laundry. I wore this black crushed velvet party dress, very short. One loop of pearls around my neck and this Wonderbra(tm) kind of thing that put every inch of my chest on display. We went to the Met while they fucked their brains out. I spent the whole time thinking about what they were doing. They could have done the Ring backwards and sung 'Paul is dead' naked and I wouldn't have noticed. I was imagining this couple fucking in every possible position in every room of the apartment. I had her sitting on his face in the middle of the living room and turning around and lowering herself slowly onto his cock, squirming rapturously as it slid home. I had her on all fours on our bed, getting taken from behind, the rhythm slowly quickening, her breasts swinging beneath her. I thought about him getting really deep into her as their bodies slapped together, over and over, making her breathless, her pussy so tight around him. For some reason the thought of this other couple fucking in our bed got me really excited. Well, the witching hour finally arrived and we stood there ringing our own doorbell like we were the guests. They opened the door together and stood there arm in arm with these big, goofy grins, looking a little wasted. My boyfriend's friend shook his hand and clapped him on the arm in this pseudo-macho way, and the girl stepped up to me and said thank you in this little voice as she kissed the air next to my cheek and just then I took a breath and her smell was like sweat and her musk and his cum all mixed together and I looked down and there was this little dot of milky white cum just starting to inch its way down between her breasts and all of a sudden my knees got weak and I just stood there with my mouth half open as they exchanged places with us and said good night. He must have come on her face, come one last time before their time was up, as we were getting out of the cab his cock was slipping between her lips and she felt him getting big and ready to explode. She wrapped her hand around him as we reached the first landing and pumped his cock up and down, her lips pressed against the swollen purple head. Second landing and he's spraying her face with his hot white cum, little gobs catching her on the lips and cheeks. Her tongue snakes out to lick them off, lick them free of his cock. She swallows his cock head again to suck the last of it out of him as she hears our voices rise from the third landing and she quickly tucks him away and gets up off the floor to stand there arm and arm with him and say goodnight to us as we reach the fourth floor and ring our own doorbell. Maybe she doesn't know that she's still wearing a little bead of cum on her chest, one thats beginning to trail away into her cleavage. Maybe she does, maybe she felt it fall there as the rest of his load painted her face and she licked and sucked the rest away knowing there was this little dot left. Maybe she knew I would see it, maybe she wanted me to see it. Maybe she'll wipe it off with her finger on the street and feed it to him. Maybe he'll bury his head between her tits and lick it off. The instant the deadbolt shot home I was kissing him, practically climbing him. One hand came up under my ass, pulling my panties and nylons off. The other popped one of my tits out of the push-up bra to squeeze my nipple. I quit squirming long enough to get out of the panties and then I got his pants down around his ankles and his cock was just huge already. What happened next makes being petite worth it because he picked me up and pressed me against the door and I wrapped my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck and I got fucked harder and deeper and faster that I ever had before. His cock slid along my ass as he held me pinned and then I felt the head of it between my pussy lips and then it was deep, so deep, right away and he let me slip just a little so that my own weight forced him that little extra bit into me. I know I let out this sound like I was some wild animal. Then it was just hold on for dear life as his cock worked in and out of me this short delicious stroke. He had his hands on my cheeks to support me so that he could pull out more, I just locked my wrists and ankles together around him. Both my tits got rubbed free of the bra as he fucked me, I felt my nipples hard against his chest. He came crushing me into the door, his whole weight and thrust splaying my legs out and around him. I don't remember coming, or it felt like one long orgasm, it was so good I don't care which. So here I was, having my virtue guarded by the chastity cat, and I suddenly have these whole body flashbacks to the hottest fucking I had received in recent memory. We went to bed without resolving the problem. We lay there naked and restless, tossing and turning til we fell asleep. About 2AM I was woken up by the silent flicker of lightning in the sky. There was a storm coming, a big terrific lightning and thunderstorm. In one short burst the clouds were going to be wrung dry and the rain was going to fall in continuous rippling sheets of water. The thunder would boom, metallic as it clattered among the tall buildings of the city. I love storms like that. I slipped out of bed and put on a tee and a pair of thongs. I went to the living room windows and looked out and up. Surrounded by other buildings, only halfway up this one, I couldn't see enough of the sky to satisfy me. Leaving the front door unlocked I went out and up to the roof. The three flights of stairs woke me up. I pushed open the roof door, the one thats supposed to locked and never is. We only come up here for the Fourth of July, but other folks come out and sunbathe in the smog and barbecue. In the middle of the night I was alone with the darkened city and the flickering sky. I looked up at the grey clouds roiling. I felt the breeze picking up, pulling at my tee. The shirt hardly covered my ass, barely kept my pussy hair out of view. I didn't care, up here by myself, if the wind played with the edge of it, lifted it to touch my ass or ruffle the hair on my cunt. Just to show how little I cared I picked the shirt up by the edge and lifted it briefly over my tits, letting the breeze blow over them and pucker the skin around my nipples. It felt deliciously cool and very naughty to expose myself to the entire Manhattan skyline like this. Someone could have been looking out of any one of a thousand windows, as restless as I was, as awakened as I was by the coming storm, and seen me, leaning against some piece of brickwork on the roof of my building, lifting my shirt and feeling the the breeze blow across my breasts and through my legs like a lovers tongue. I didn't care. I felt the first big wet drop on my cheek as I lowered my shirt. I went and stood in the middle of the roof as I waited for the rising hiss to mix with the booms coming closer and more frequently. The lights on Houston Street dimmed away as the storm fell on them. The tempo of the rain increased as I spread my arms to greet it. The drops struck at random on my face, stinging a little from the force of the wind. They struck and clung to my shirt, gradually darkening it. It no longer fluttered in the wind, now the wind and the rain plastered it to my skin. The storm was on me, falling like a hot shower, but the wind cooling me. My hair was slicked down against my neck and the shirt stuck everywhere. I looked down at my breasts. My nipples stood up stiff beneath the soaked tee. I squeezed them through the shirt, pointing them upwards at the sky, feeling my own little electric surge. I heard the door creak behind me. I turned, suddenly afraid. Then my boyfriend stepped out of the darkness and into the lightning and the rain. He was wearing just boxer shorts and sandals like mine. He stood looking at me from about twenty feet away, the rain darkening his shorts. Facing him I lifted the shirt off my breasts again, showing them to him, rubbing them over, feeling my stiff nipples drum across my fingers. His erection showed through the soaked shorts, the cloth outlining it. I went to him and kissed him, so thankful that he had followed me. "Take me quickly," I said, "I want you fucking me in the rain." He took me by the hand and looked around the roof. There was no convenient place to lie down, even to go on all fours. Then I thought of something. I led him around to the other side of the little housing of the stairs. It had a wall, solid brick. The rain was slapping against it. "Pick me up and fuck me against this wall, like we did against the door that time. I really need you fucking me please, I... Oh god your cock is so big I can't wait for it to be... oh yes I'm holding on so tight don't worry just press me against the wall like you did before and thats...oh fuck you're so deep oh fuck me oh fuck thats so ggood..." I was getting the pattern of the bricks pressed into my skin as his cock pinned me to the wall. We were soaking wet and his cock seemed to get bigger each time it slid into me. I was screaming, louder than I ever did, each thrust inwards, it felt so good the rain dripping into my mouth as I cried out. Our orgasm took us just as a crack of lightning boomed nearby, or maybe it just felt that way to me. He held me as my cunt clenched around his spurting cock, my nipples tingling against the wet cotton and his chest. He kept me pinned as we kissed and the aftershocks boomed and roared around us. We stayed up there, kissing and holding each other, til the rain tailed away as the storm passed over the East River. I thought about your apartment in Park Slope and hoped you kept your windows shut when you went on vacation. As we stepped around the the housing for the stairs I saw that Jasmine was waiting for us, we had finally found a spot she wouldn't dare invade. I expected her to run away from us as we came in from the wet and squished our way back down the stairs, but instead she twirled herself around our ankles and purred. Everything was beautiful until we tried to kiss on landing six and she clawed my ankle. The rain must have stopped. Amanda's Piece of the Night by Tammy Ng (vamp, follow up Meeting Amanda by Backrub) Dear Circe, I hope this message finds you feeding well in San Francisco. I know that its hard to settle into a new city, I'm finding Chicago quite awful right now. But we need to rotate every so often to keep the bloods balanced, so I try to take it as just another existential facet of the universe. I miss you, Circe. I miss your teeth tugging at my nipple and my finger on your clit stroking in return. I miss feeling just your beautiful fangs dragged across my skin, your feedmark bitten lovingly into my neck, mine into yours, our mutual suckling neck to neck. I miss the way you make me stand and how you come close to me and slash me suddenly at the jugular and the thin pale serum spurts forth and you make me twist my neck so that you can watch it pulsing out of me, trickling down between my breasts and across my belly. I miss you kneeling to lick the pale fluid from the lips of my pussy, running your fang so smooth and sharp over my clit. I miss watching the muscles of your face pull taut as I stroke your clit and your lip peels back and your fangs glisten in your mouth widened in desire, breath clenched in your throat anticipating the release that my finger moving on your clit will surely bring you soon. I miss your strong fingers working in my slick cunt, making me whimper for you. I stopped over in New York on my way in from Paris. I had a feeding pass from William, he paying off an old favor. Imagine my suprise to find Raul installed as the Lord of Manhattan! The story as I could make it out was something like this: Raul had settled in Hoboken, of all places, but an auspicious choice. William ruled across the river in Manhattan, and had the tunnels warded to his service. He held both Manhattan and Long Island against any trespass, refused repeated calls to rotate, even turning down London at one point. New York is new blood, as the saying goes, and William never lacked for feeding. The constant saiety led to him becoming lackadaisical in keeping up his wards. Raul crept along the far bank of the Hudson, biding his time. Finally the night came for Raul to strike. Having fed well in a hundred Hoboken bars, he was at his peak strength. There was an outbound accident in the north tube of the Lincoln Tunnel, just past the ward. It was a wonderful grisly thing, I've gathered, a commuter bus and family in a station wagon. William couldn't resist putting in an appearance, of course. And when the bus driver pulled out a gun and blew his own head off in remorse, he was completely drunk with joy. I doubt I could resist such a scene myself. But at the same time Raul was forcing an entrance at the south tube of the same tunnel! By the time William finished wallowing in that scene of bloody despair the Manhattan ends of the tunnels had been warded in the sign of Raul! So now the positions are reversed, Raul lives the high life as Master of New York while William skulks along the bank of the Hudson from the Palisades to Port Elizabeth. The humans' part I got from old newspapers scattered about on the PATH train that I rode into the city. The story the wards told, I read for myself as we passed into the tunnel under the river. Lucky for me the feeding pass was given in the name of a place, not the name of its Master. Raul has put his spoor on every rooftop in Manhattan, it seems. But he could not gainsay me my right of feeding. I slept the day away in the prehistoric Indian cemetery under Battery Park. As the mingled twilight released me I instantiated among a group of tourists coming back from the Statue of Liberty. How I wish that great Lady would bear her fangs and show the huddled masses what true Liberty is! The air there has the tang of the sea, the tang of spilled blood, exhilarating. I walked through the park to the subway station and caught the number 1 IRT local uptown. The subway smelled of tuberculosis. I got off at 14th Street, walked over to Broadway and started to walk back south slowly. I was trolling, tasting the air. I had decided to do the Village that night. I would have preferred Spanish Harlem but Raul warned me off when I presented my pass to him the previous evening. "All right, I honor the pass and your right of feeding here one night. Fucking sentimental of William to write it this way. He must have thought he would rule Manhattan til the next Ice Age. I hope you don't think I'm going to give you the keys to Central Park, just because you've got a one night pass. Stay south of 96th Street if you know whats good for you. This island is mine to dispose, I could just as easily have told you to find your meal on Roosevelt Island, but I don't care to have an old lover of William's looking over my shoulder. Good hunting." I don't have to tell you what the air tasted like, walking through the Village. Yes all of humanity's scents were there. The joy of creation, the sorrow of corruption, mingling with the ordinary and the everyday of desire and dull frustration. I could smell those marked by William, faintly now that he was absent. Raul's scent carried strongly from a few, he must have been testing the waters everywhere in his new domain. But over everything was the false Sign. There were street corners where the smell of AIDS was so thick it made me sneeze. I don't have to tell you, in San Francisco, what its like to stand in a herd of mankine and be overpowered by the sickly sweet ether of AIDS. Tycho thought he could make humanity mark itself for him, carry his Sign from blood to blood, body to body. He wanted to be able to call at will, any where and time, and we let him try because he said it was a mark and Sign muted in such a way that anyone of Us could call the marked ones. It was certainly a great technical triumph for Tycho to succeed in placing his mark and Sign on a virus. What a grand sad dream. Now the vector burdens us with the tasteless half dead, reeking falsely of Tycho. His little experiment last spring with Ebola was even worse. Let me say out loud what everyone whispers, he should be Destroyed, before we are forced to watch him gorge himself on the blood of all humanity in a single month, while the rest of Us starve. Enough of our politics. I made three rounds of Lower Manhattan. About eleven I was in the Village again and I caught it blowing in from behind me down Broadway. A man this time, rising to the bait. Staying an even distance ahead of him I tasted his scent as the breeze brought it to me. A little cynical, thinks he's seen it all, done everything he wanted to, he thinks, almost forgotten the things he hasn't. He was seeing the sex of me, I could taste the fizz he was putting into the air. He wanted to prove he was still alive, and making me come would be an ample demonstration of that. Shifting through the crowd I followed the specifics, the taste he thought my pussy would have as he put his face into it, the smell of his cum rising from tight inside my cunt and my ass tighter around his thumb, fucking me from behind, behind the dumpster in the alley I had just passed and he was just passing, the smell of my pussy again, rising from under my skirt while his cock spilled cum over my hand, pumping long slow strokes the length of him. I waited until he was definitely following me. Then as I was about to cross the street I twisted around and set the hook. The wind twisted with me, at my behest, and I washed over him like a sudden exhalation fogging the mirror of his senses. Hooked. Now to reel him in. There was a rooftop nearby that William had marked and Raul had remarked. I aimed for it and he followed along on his little leash of desire. I got him there with a minimum of tedious socialization. On the way I kept rolling his tastes over and over in my mouth. Pussy taste cum taste ass taste cum cum pussy ass cum. I thought about setting my fangs in his balls and drinking the sperm straight from the source. It is so tempting when his cock is in your mouth and you're taking all that lovely white cum and you know his blood is singing just under the skin and that tangled skein of arteries is stretched taut the length of his cock, so tempting to nick him and let it out, let it mix in your mouth with the cum and swallow them both. When they're well marked and ready to come when you call, almost ready to be bled white, then you can chance that, when you've got their balls in your hand and your slow massage makes them think they're coming forever and they're willing to ignore the little nick in the delirium of bloody orgasm. I took him down quickly. He wanted my cunt, he got it, lips wide across his face. I quit breathing to take his cock down my throat, til my lips were buried in his hair and his balls rubbed my nose. He was doing me well, his tongue knew what a woman needed. I took his cock out and stroked him with my hand so that I could lean into his face a little more. If you plan on existing til the end of time, its a mistake to remember too much. But suddenly I did remember, how long long ago when I was a woman I sat just like that on a man's face. His tongue twisted around my clit, on and on, I was burning up inside. I twisted a bit and slid one wet, shortnailed finger into my own ass. My finger worked in my ass like a switch against the flank of a horse, soon I was galloping along on top of him. He knew when to be still, when to let my bucking hips slide my clit over the tip of his tongue held stiff and still. I came crying plunging my finger in grinding my cunt against his face his cock bobbing between my tits. I came then, stroking, being licked, remembering. As I turned and took his stiff cock into me I saw his blood pounding in his neck and his eyes all glassy. I took the rest of my pleasure with him still feeling the afterglow of remembered womanhood. My tongue marked him and with a quick head shake I set my punctures side by side. I drew from his neck with the same rhythm as my cunt shoving down on his cock. As I lapped at his neck I let his cock swell and feed me from below, the sudden presence of his hot cum twitching my hips again, a long slow wave rolling up my spine. In sudden ecstasy I whispered the name of my first lover, that I thought I had forgotten long ago. I left him like that, marked for me, dazed and happy I suppose. My own sentimentality spared him. If he ever comes to Chicago, I'll know. Please don't be critical of me, Circe, Raul thinks I ruined a perfectly good opportunity to bleed one white that belonged to him, certainly what he would have done if the roles were reversed. And there is no rivaling what I feel for you, because we are together truly for forever, just like you promised me that long age ago. But for that one split second as I came I could believe I was a woman again, and that was enough, that night. Deidre sure writes a lot! Sisters Ng: Aegean Interludes by Deidre Ng There's an especially beautiful string of tiny beaches and and very private coves along the south-west side of Skiathos. We have to walk up the hillside after taking the bus to the very end of the line, climb down a steep narrow path through the rocks and then a little way through the olive grove to get there. When you come out at the water, you might be a little disappointed at first, because it seems just like any other beach, with lots of people. But follow me - I know a place. We walk along the water's edge, no shoes, splashing in the little waves licking up onto the beach. Your shirt is getting a little wet from the spray. and the long full gauze skirt I slipped on over my suit is blowing around in the breeze and the hem is getting damp, but I don't mind. Everything is fresh and salty. I'm thinking about how the water ebbs and flows on the sand, not a perfect rhythm, never quite predictable, but steady, and I'm thinking about how you would feel moving against me, inside me, like those waves. I wonder if you're wondering the same thing. After clambering over the rocky outcropping at the far end of the beach all those people we wanted to leave behind are now out of sight. The only sounds are from the water and the warm breeze and our slightly out of breath breathing as we jump down from the last boulder onto the whitest sand on the floor of a perfect circular cove. (You have to help me over the last step, and I like the steady feeling of your hand as I grasp it and hop down onto the sand). The walls of the cliff rise almost straight up from the sand, giving a feeling that's open and sheltered all at once. While there is some shade, it is almost mid-day, and the air is starting to get hot. We spread out our towels, park the daypacks against the rocks, peel off the outside cloths, and chase each other into the water. It's amazingly crystal clear and blue-green. You are the first to dive under, and I follow you. We swim out a little way, and when I try to put my foot down, I realize it's too deep for me, and I sink for a couple of seconds, coming back up giggling and treading water, my hair smoothed back and shiny, the ends floating around me on the surface. The water is shoulder deep on you, but you can touch bottom. You paddle towards me and scoop me up, holding me like a baby, my arms around your neck, legs around your waist, your hands clasped under my ass, pressing me close to you. We're both very silly, as you threaten to dip me under, and I hold on tighter, laughing, feeling your chest hard against me, and the water cool and fresh everywhere. Your beard and mustache are covered with shiny drops of water, and when I kiss you, it's a delicious mix - sweet and salty, the warmth of your mouth and the cool of those little droplets coming together on my tongue. We kiss there, feeling the pull of the surf and I know that I'll make love to you on this beach just a little while from now, the slap of the surf merging with the sound of our flesh. I'm going to lose myself in you, in your rhythm, as I always do, as I love to do, as you fill me. Your nipples are puckered and hard and so are mine, standing in the waves kissing. I trace yours with one finger as we kiss. You start to walk back to the beach holding me, but can't quite navigate the pebbly bottom, and have to let me go, laughing and splashing me. We hang there in the water for a few minutes, just liking the feel of the coolness on every inch of skin. I decide it's time to lose my bathing suit, peeling it down and off my body, stepping out of it while still floating in that clear green water. You didn't quite notice what I was doing, since you were floating on you back, doing your best otter imitation. You were surprised to feel me tugging at your drawstring, undoing the knot and helping you pull it down over your hips, thighs, butt, and finally, kicking it off your feet. The suits get tossed up onto the sand. I swim back to you, and wrap myself around you again. You feel wonderful against me, and my body feels especially warm to you compared to the cool water. I'm kissing you now, and can feel you getting hard, the head of your cock nudging my ass as I squirm against you, and squeeze you even tighter. This time you carry me back towards the sand, and dropping to your knees, let me down onto the fresh sun warmed towels at the edge of the water, still kissing me, lowering yourself onto me. The feel of your body on mine, the shifting sand under me, and the heat of the sun make me feel suddenly so primal, and I can't wait for you to be inside me. I want it now, right now. I don't want to wait even a second and I'm spreading my legs, using one hand to open myself for you, the other digging into your ass, trying to pull you into me. I'm so turned on seeing your face above me, smiling because you know you're teasing me and you love to see how much you can make me want you. Even though we're alone, I feel I must whisper what I want - oh please David I want you.... so much, I want you inside me hard deep, just fuck me you know how, you know just how I like it. David now now now oh please, please I want you so much. I want all of you right now. But you make me tell you out loud. Not shouting, but you want to hear every word and breath as I tell you how much I want you. You love to hear it. And finally finally you give me your cock, sudden and deep and hard - you wanted to hear me gasp when you did it. But then you start the long sweet strokes, that perfect rhythm, that indescribable hot slippery friction, completely inside me, and it still isn't enough because I want all of you, your entire being inside me, everything you are and say and do I want inside me and I'm clutching at your shoulders, your arms, digging my nails into your ass, and dragging them up the entire length of your back to your shoulders, where I fold my arms around your neck and pull you to me for kisses. You can hear me moaning softly through our kisses and even though you wanted to keep control, to continue to tease me, you can feel the pressure building. My need and vulnerability and desperation are so open that you feel as though you are crossing an invisible line and join me on the other side, suddenly as crazy feeling as I am. Just a few more strokes, just a few more, low pitched and gasping oh god,dave you're making me come, yes David Iloveyou iloveyou ilove you, oh so sweet oh god, ohIloveyou. I love to feel you come in me. I love it. We rest for a long, long time on the white sand, half sleeping, still tangled togeter, but we can still hear the waves flowing softly, back and forth. They spent the afternoon at the beach, and in town. In town they looked into little shops, examined all kinds of craft work, perused the work of painters and jewelers. Back in the hotel they showered and changed for dinner. They ate lightly, salad and fish. Afterward they walked again through the little town, holding hands, not talking, just being together. They had touched constantly through dinner, little brushes of the fingertips, sometimes feeding each other a bite. Now as they walked up the winding streets to the little hotel they heard the surf against the seawall. It sounded all day and night through the open window of their room, because their room turned its back on the town and looked out over the sea. The bed was rough, but wide enough for two, two that didn't mind being close. They closed and locked the door behind them. He lit two candles in green glass containers and switched off the one electric light. They sat together on the bed, looking out the window towards the dark horizon. The sun had set as they walked lazily back through the little streets and now the sky was every shade of blue, spread out and dotted with stars. Their speech was just a murmur above the rhythmic pounding of the surf. They faced each other and at times their speaking faded away into a kiss in which their lips hovered within a hair's breadth of each other, brushing together, parting and pressing together, giving passage to their tongues and the dance of their tongues together. At the base of her spine was the zipper to the long flowing white skirt that she wore. His hand had rested on it for a while, as they had talked and kissed and looked at the sea and the stars. He put his other arm around her now, and held the fabric of the skirt to allow him to unzip it. When he had done this his hand naturally fell across her buttock. She felt the passage of his hand over her cheek, so welcome, so familiar. She felt the waist of the skirt loose around her, no longer following exactly her movements, each motion rendering it less relevant. As they kissed he began unbuttoning her blouse. He worked up the buttons slowly, not looking, letting his fingers work their way through the necessary motions. Eventually each button came free with a little release of tension, a sighing as the fabric loosened. She felt his progress through the shift and pull of the blouse against her skin. As he worked the top buttons free, she felt the slight constraint of her breasts disappear and they shifted freely as she leaned somewhat forward. Finally he was done. His hands rested on her waist, sliding into the space between the blouse and the skirt. They kissed and she unbuttoned him, from top to bottom, and unzipped his trousers when she ran out of buttons. Her hands came to rest in a similar spot on him. He opened one side of her blouse at moved his hand slowly up her side. He cupped her breast in his hand, and slowly worked her nipple into the angle between his thumb and forefinger. There he slowly pinched it, pulled it and let it slide through his fingers. His slow caress made her dizzy and hot and she felt the pounding within her rise to match the surf. She wanted him to bare her other breast and match his caresses. She gently pulled his hand away, long enough for her to open his shirt and strip him of it. Then she opened her blouse and let it fall off her shoulders and down her back. She lifted his hands to her breasts, pressing them to her. He resumed his caress, his pull and release of her nipples. She closed her eyes and let herself drift along, guided by her other senses. His hands were moving like the surf over her breasts, lifting and circling, rolling and pulling her nipples in time with the moving waters. With her eyes closed she was more aware of the matched rhythms. She felt a bead of sweat start to trace its way down her spine. She imagined how she must look to him, shadows slanting across her skin. A dark pool between her breasts that his hands dipped into, her skin dusky in the half light, her nipples standing hard between his fingers dark mountains in profile. After a little while, she worked her hands around his waist and slid his trousers down his legs. She traced the length of his cock through the fabric of his underwear, then peeled that off and freed his shaft. One hand she rested at the base of it. With the other, she explored his length and thickness and stiffness and heat, running her fingertips lightly along his taut skin. He was so warm in her hand when she made a circle of her thumb and forefinger and slid it down his length. Before she got too serious about playing with him, she lifted her skirt over her knees and spread her legs, sitting on her haunches. She led one of his hands away from her breasts and down beneath her skirt. Then she resumed her sliding circle as he began to explore her. He found her damp and expectant. Her lips were pouting, wet and open. His hand slid easily between them as her hand slid easily along him, and they stroked each other slowly to the beat of the water at the base of the seawall. In the candlelight she pushed him back eventually, and mounted him, not bothering to remove the skirt, just spreading it over their legs. Her breasts fell in his face as she pushed herself back and down, feeling her lips spread and enfold him, feeling his stiff thickness slide deep into her heat, the pounding rising in her, the need to thrust and fill herself with him. Their cries went out and mixed with the candlelight and were lost in the wash of the sea against the rocks, but the night was full of their joy. Hors d'Ouerve He invited her to dinner the next day. Maybe they could go to this new Italian place, he said. Of course, she accepted. They would meet in the lobby at 6:30. In the cab, going uptown, they talked about work. His hand moved across the space between them during the conversation. As he spoke he began to draw circles on the back of her hand, circles that alternated with strokes. His touch was so light, like just breathing on her skin. It was, of course. exactly the way she touched herself and wanted him to touch her, though not in the back of a cab and not on the back of her hand. It riveted her attention. She stared dumbly at his hand on hers, not seeing it, feeling it, feeling her imagination and desire transplant the sensations from the back of her hand to her shoulder and cheek, to the side of her breast and the inside of her thigh. This process might have reached her nipples and clitoris, which were quite ready to be reached, believe me, except that they were there and had to get out. He escorted her inside and took her to the table he had reserved. They were seated, given menus, orders were taken. She went through the whole restaurant ritual on auto-pilot, until the ice water calmed her down. After the salad, she opened the conversation with "I'm really looking forward to kissing you later this evening." It was a little scary, starting like that, but it was honest and direct and it brought up the subject she most wanted to talk about. "I hope you're looking forward to being kissed in return," he replied. "I'm certainly looking forward to kissing you. Kissing is a way of speaking without words, and we have a lot to say to each other. Where do you like to be kissed?" Various parts of her body all began shouting at once that they should be mentioned first in answer to this question. Her pussy argued strenuously that since being kissed there felt best, it should be mentioned first. Her nipples rose to argue that they should be mentioned because they came first in a physical sense, and would also be a good compromise between the obvious and the sluttish. Her lips said they would get kissed first anyway, so they should get top billing. Her skin answered that since it was biggest it was in the running too. It was very hard to keep everything straight and answer the question with all of these places getting excited and reminding her brain of just what it felt like to get kissed in one particular spot or another. She took a deep breath and told all the different parts to shut up for now, that with any luck they would all get kissed sooner or later. "I'll say the inside of my thigh. It's not the first place and its not the last, but getting there can be half the fun, n'est pas? And you? Where do you like to be kissed?" He smiled. "Taxicabs, sofas, bedrooms, most anywhere, really." "Taxicabs, sofas, bedrooms, what an interesting progression they make." Dinner arrived. They talked about how long they had watched each other in the office, wanting to break the ice, but not knowing how. They talked about losing virginity and the importance of going slow. All the while she was thinking about him, how it would feel when he first kissed her, how it would feel to lean against him and press her breasts against his chest. She wanted to know what he would feel like above her and the taut expectation of her first opening her legs to him. And most of all, how he would kiss her pussy and bring her to orgasm with his tongue on her clit. She excused herself and went to the bathroom. Her panties were damp from her imagining. She took them off and held them clenched in her fist as she walked back to the table. She dropped them in his lap as she sat down. "I don't think I'll be needing those the rest of the evening and I want you to know what an impression you're making on me." "I'm equally as impressed, I assure you," he said. The table they were sitting at had a long tablecloth on it, one that draped down over her thighs. She leaned back in her chair and started talking in a whisper. He had to lean forward just to hear what she was saying. "Someone looking under this tablecloth right now could really get an eyeful of my pussy, because I'm going to spread my legs and my dress is going to slide up my thighs when I do, and of course you know now that I have no panties on. So my dark wiry hair would be plain as day around my pussy. I can slide my hand along my thigh and through my hair and start to spread my lips apart. Inside I'm very wet already and when I touch my clit my fingers are slick. I can give myself a very soft touch, a stroking, circling touch that's just right. The more I touch myself the hotter and wetter I get and my fingers get wetter and stickier. I usually just keep going on and on like this and when I want to come I start to imagine that I'm getting kissed on my clit by a wonderful man who knows just what to do and how softly I want him to kiss me. But I wouldn't do that right now, because I think you might be that wonderful man, and I want you to be that wonderful man. But I thought you should know that that's the effect your having on me." She brought her right hand up from beneath the table and laid it flat on the white cloth. The tips of her middle fingers glistened wetly. He stared at her for a long time. She was afraid he had taken the whole thing the wrong way when he began to smile. "Let's not stay for dessert." "Agreed." Taxi Outside the restaurant, they held hands waiting for a taxi. "I'd like to take you home tonight," she said. "I have a sofa, I have a bedroom. If one ever comes, we can start with a taxi and see how far things go." He agreed. Soon after, they flagged down a taxi and got in. They sat close together in the back. As they started through the night traffic she put her hand to his face. His beard and skin were warm to her palm as she turned him and brought him close. She wanted to kiss him hard and show what she was feeling, but she held back at first. Their lips just touched, half open, brushing back and forth. They met again, pressed forward a little, stuck together and then parted, pulling at each other. Several more times they kissed like this, exploring the surface textures of each other. Then she felt the heat well up inside her. Her eyes closed, her hand stole behind his neck and drew him close. With a little animal noise in her throat her mouth opened his, inviting his deep kiss and kissing him deeply in return. This was what she wanted then, more than anything. She melted in the heat of it, her pulse shouted in her ears and thudded between her legs. She felt dizzy, holding him tight in the vertigo of desire. They kissed through the stop and go of city traffic, through the random lane changes that taxis make in some form a dominance ritual that only their drivers understand. She was very aware of not having her panties on. As they crossed the bridge she broke from kissing him and holding him close began to whisper in his ear. "Your kisses are so wonderful, soft and slow or hot and deep depending. I'm glad I don't have to fight you, that we can explore each other. I love your kisses on my skin, how you've kissed my cheek and neck, my ear and temple. I want your mouth on the rest of me. Kissing my shoulders, sucking my breast, I know it will feel so good when you take my nipple in your mouth. And I'm desperate for your mouth between my legs. On my thighs like I told you, slowly. Tease me, let me know where your going before you get there. I have dark, wiry hair around my pussy, you'll find out soon. I want to feel my hair tangled in your beard, the little pull and tension on my skin as you move. I want you to taste me, open me and taste me. I've been wet for you since before dinner. I want your beard and mustache wet with me. I know you'll be good to me then, not too hard or rough with me where I'm most tender and sensitive. Just the lightest touch thrills me. I want your tongue to take my breath away with just the slightest touch. "You know I'm not wearing panties. If we were on my sofa I'd want you to keep kissing me, not play with my breasts or try just yet to take my clothes off. I'll give you my breasts later and the clothes are a game in themselves. But just sitting on the sofa kissing I'd want you to put your hand on my thigh, knowing I have no panties on. Touch me slowly, higher and higher. Keep kissing me and as you move your hand I'll spread myself for you, because I want you to be there, touching me. When your fingers are sticky and wet I want to lick them and share the taste with you. I know you'll have a gentle touch with me. Maybe you'll want to kneel on the rug and kiss me there. I'd be spread wide open then and very ready, ready for you. You could spread my lips and lick the juice off me, I wouldn't want you to stop. "I have to keep my legs together now, I don't want this whole taxi smelling like my pussy. But you should know that I want you tonight to be between my legs in so many different ways. My head and heart are already committed, everything else follows helplessly." She hugged him and kissed him again. They pulled up outside her building and got out, tipping the driver generously. She felt the cool night air on her thighs as she got out, a contrast to the hot dampness high up between her legs. She felt shaky on her feet, and leaned against him heavily as they walked into her building. Standing in the elevator, kissing, standing close, she felt a trickle on the inside of her thigh. She shivered. She had told him everything, had revealed herself to him. And very soon she would know that she had done the right thing. Sofa Her apartment was dark, but she didn't bother to turn on the lights. She pulled up the window coverings and let the pale moonlight and the diffuse cityglow paint the room pale silver. He pushed the door closed behind him. She crossed back to the door to lock it. She pulled him close and kissed him, tasting him again and feeling his heat. Breaking their embrace, she took his coat and laid it with hers on the old school bench near her door. She took him by the hand and led him silently to her couch. His hand was very warm in hers. They sat together, with a little space between them so that they could turn and face each other. He put his arm over her shoulders and around her, his other hand held hers with their fingers interlaced. They spoke quietly, with their heads close together. "Thank you for dinner," she said. "It was wonderful food and delightful company and conversation that was... stimulating." "The company can be stimulating, too. You were telling me about your pussy, how excited you were. I'm very excited also. It's pretty amazing to hear a woman talk like that, very intimate, very erotic. I want to touch you just right, kiss you just right. Like this." He touched her cheek with the tip of his finger, as light as baby's breath. He traced a line from her cheekbone to her ear and along the line of her jaw, just making contact with her skin. Then he wet his fingertip in his mouth and touched her open lips. He moistened her lips, and wetting his fingertip again, touched her lower lip in the middle, making the tiniest circles. She stopped him, gasping. "Oh, yes, that's it, that's just how I want you playing with my clit. Soft and delicate. Use your tongue like that and I'll come so hard, I know it. I dream of being touched like that. When I touch myself I think of being kissed that way, on and on." He looked intently at her. "Would you show me?", he asked. "Would you show me how you touch yourself? You know yourself better than anyone. I'd love to learn how to do exactly what you like from the one who knows best what that is. Don't just tell me, show me." "You'd like that?" "Yes." She got up and went to sit in the chair. "I never play with myself with all these clothes on. If you want to see me play with myself I'll have to take off my clothes." She took off her glasses and laid them on the table. She opened the buttons of her suit one by one. "I'm going to pretend you're not here. No offense of course. As a matter of fact, its very exciting to be asked to share this with you. I'm going to pretend that I've come home late from work and I'm too tired to turn on the light. I raised the coverings on the windows and I've come to sit in this chair and unwind. I feel a lot of sexual tension because there's this man in the office that I wish I could talk to. Well, more than talk to. He's really attractive and sweet and more than anything I wish I could fuck him and that he would go down on me and make me come with his mouth on my pussy. So I'm tired and more than a little bit horny this evening as I take my suit jacket off. And I think, why not? Why not be nice to myself tonight, I think." She took her jacket and folded it neatly and laid it on the back of the couch, next to him. Underneath the jacket she had on a white silk sleeveless blouse. She began to untuck it as she continued speaking. "Sometimes I can sit in this chair in the dark, and look out my window over the rooftops and see the moon. I pretend there's a man in the moon with a super powerful telescope, so powerful he can read the want-ads over your shoulder with it. He can see me sitting in this chair, see every detail of how I strip and put my legs over the arms of the chair. My pussy is facing straight out the window and he can zoom in his telescope right between my legs until he can see every hair on my pussy and every move I make with my fingers between my legs. He's been watching me play with myself since I lay in my bed in my parent's house on the other side of the continent. He watched my first explorations of myself. Wherever I've traveled he's found me with his telescope and watched me as I came, who knows how many times over the years. He gets really turned on watching me, someday he'll come to the Earth and introduce himself and I'll let him go down on me, because he knows better than any other man how to satisfy me. "So tonight I'll sit in this chair and pretend I'm being watched by a man who'll know from watching me just how to do it right, just how I touch myself and how I like to be touched." She crossed her arms and pulled the blouse over her head. Underneath the blouse was a pale camisole, with thin straps over her shoulders. In the pale light it almost seemed to glow ethereally. Beneath that was evidently nothing. Her breasts gave the camisole rounded curves and shadows and her nipples stood out against the otherwise soft contours. She unzipped the skirt behind her and let it drop slowly to the floor. Then she picked it up and folded it neatly and set it next to the jacket. She sat back down in the chair, wearing just the camisole. She began to play with her breasts through the shimmering fabric. She pinched and rolled her nipples or pulled them upright with her fingernails. She cupped her breasts and let them fall, rubbing against the soft cloth. Her breathing became a series of murmurs and sighs. After a short while, she slipped the thin straps off her shoulders. She pulled her arms free of the straps and rolled down the top of the flimsy garment to reveal her breasts. She licked her fingers and repeated all the playful actions of before, with the addition of wetting her nipples for the pinching and rolling and pulling. The camisole slipped farther and farther down her stomach, gathering finally as a pale white ring around her waist. Now she sat back in the chair. For a moment she was still, unmoving. Then she raised one leg and rested her heel on the edge of the cushion. She stroked her leg with the tips of her fingers and her nails, very delicately and slowly. She brought up the other leg and repeated the touches, obviously luxuriating in her sensation. She began to work more and more on the inside of her thighs, stroking back and forth inward from her knees and back again. As she did so, her legs fell farther and farther apart, until at last her knees had fallen to rest against the arms of the wide chair. Her whole pubic area lay exposed, a dark place as yet unexplored in any way. She hooked her legs slowly over the arms of the chair, slouching into it. The tendons stood out taut on the inside of her thighs. She was stretched as wide open as she could go. She tilted her head back and started to slip her fingers through the shadow of her pubic hair. Her fingers traced the outline of her pussy's outer lips and flicked the hair back from the edges and from where it was tangled together. She wetted her fingers and gradually separated her lips, spreading herself out, completely open to view. She peeled back her inner lips in the same slow fashion. With her pussy open and glistening, she pulled back the hood of skin from her clit. One hand held her clit exposed while the other, wet from her pussy and her mouth, strummed lightly across the face of it. She was completely still except for the flickering movement of her hand. Occasionally she shifted or stopped to rewet her fingers or rest a brief space. But then she would resume, some variation of the passage of her fingers stroking her clit. The tension slowly built in the rest of her body, in the intensity of her expression, in the quickness of her stroke. Now her breath came in ragged gasps, and a long low moan, and then a heaving thrashing climax with her legs clamping her hand between them, stilling its rhythm. She caught her breath, curled up in the chair. When at last she could speak again, she said "It's usually not that strong. Its usually a halfway thing. But I think having you here helped a lot. And I was very excited from before. In the end I just thought about you over and over again, going down on me, your tongue doing all those crazy little things, hot and wet on my clit." She got up and crossed the space to the couch. She was naked, he was still fully dressed. Stood in front of him, then straddled his knees and sat on him and kissed him hard on the mouth. "Taxi, Sofa. Bedroom." "Bedroom," he replied. Bedroom She undressed him. She took her time. She was feeling tingly and relaxed at the same time, the after-effect of making herself come for him as they sat in the living room. She was very happy to be in this place and time with him, that he was there in her bedroom with her. At first she simply stood and held him close, enjoying the strength of his embrace, the thump of his heart beneath his crisp white shirt. And the lump in his pants. Thump + lump = HUMP, she thought to herself, and suddenly the desire to be beneath him caught fire inside her. Beneath him and so so open to his thrust into her. Her hands shook a little as she undid the buttons. He bent his head and kissed her, hot and direct on the mouth. Their tongues slid together. With a little whimper of pleasure in her throat she held him tight, grinding her pelvis forward. She felt the roller-coaster, butterflies-in-the-stomach inside her. Things were going to go faster than she wanted if she wasn't careful. He kissed her cheek, her ear. He kissed and nipped her neck as his hands crept around her sides to cup her breasts. She wasn't getting any farther with undressing him as they stood together, him fondling her breasts, cupping them and tugging at the nipples, she engulfed in the feelings he was sending through her. She had wanted him to do this for so long and now it was happening. It was really his hands moving warmly across her skin, not just her aching imagination. The way he pinched her nipple and pulled it was him and not her fantasy of how he might be. She removed his hands from her breasts long enough to undo the cuffs of his shirt. She pulled the shirttails free and threw it on her dresser. He pulled the undershirt off without waiting for her. For the first time, she pressed her breasts against his chest, feeling them flatten against his warm skin. She held him, swaying gently for a while. He knelt and pressed his head to her chest. She put her arms over his shoulders and held his head close. He turned his head and began to suck her breast. She knit her fingers together at the back of his head as he took her nipple into his mouth. "Oh, sweetie, suck my tit. I love your teeth on my nipple. Oh, yes, harder, even harder, Oh, yes, suck it. You don't know how hot you're making me." He kept sucking her breast and she felt his hand begin to stroke the inside of her leg. Light brushing motions, rising higher and higher. She turned her leg out to give him room to reach her pussy. He stroked her hair and gently separated her pussy lips. All the time he kept kissing and sucking her breast. "What you're doing feels so good. You've got me so wet" She gasped as he slipped his fingers inside her. She felt him begin to stroke her with his fingers, very slow deliberate strokes as he sucked her. His fingers pressed against the front wall of her pussy and every stroke sent a wave of desire washing across her. It was too good to make him stop. He kept sucking and stroking her, and she felt the certainty of her orgasm grow within her. It grew until it filled her and there was no room for anything but the feeling he was giving her and then it was more than she could stand and she felt herself coming, clenching her pussy around his fingers, her tit pulling loose from his mouth as she shook in moment of it. She leaned against him, recovering her breath. He hugged her, then holding her tight, picked her up and sat her on the bed. "You're too tired to help now. Just watch and rest for a bit". She leaned back on her elbows, her long dark hair spilling over her shoulders. She lay, her lower legs dangling over the edge, her legs slightly spread. He unbuckled his belt, stepped out of his pants and pulled off his socks. His erection was very obvious in his underwear. He reached into his briefs and straightened his cock, put his hands on his hips and pulled the briefs off slowly. She watched his cock emerge, wonderfully erect and stiff. It made her mouth water to see it in the half light. The feeling inside her was like a force tugging her legs apart the longer she stared at him. "Lean back and close your eyes," he said. "You were so generous to me, out there in the other room. You gave me something so private and precious. You let me into a moment of vulnerability most people never share. Someday I'll repay you. I'll let you see me in that same moment of privacy, of vulnerability. Now let me give you that feeling you've said you wanted." She took her knees and pulled them up and out, offering herself to him. Her tongue ran around her lips. He knelt. He kissed her thigh and ran his tongue along it, then nipped her skin along the trail that his tongue left, hard enough to make gasp and shiver. He nipped the taut tendon in her groin. He held his hand flat over her pussy. With slow large circles he brought it closer, till it began to brush against the damp hairs of her pussy. She let go her breath in a long exhalation of delight. He leaned close and let his breath carress her. She responded with a quiet moan. "Oh, please, now, I need you now." She pulled the lips of her pussy back with one hand, the other searched for his head, sliding around it to pull him closer. Propelled by her hand, he bent his head to kiss her finally. Her cry carried on the moonlight, soft and delicate. He reinserted his fingers as he kissed her. His tongue caressed her clit with the tenderness of a feather. He took her clit in his mouth and sucked it delicately in a way that brought her to the edge and then released her. Her pussy pulsed around his fingers and he began to slowly stroke her again. He pressed his face into her pussy and set his tongue fluttering over her clit, laying a hundred different kisses on its shaft and top and hood. She was moving her fingers to match his slow strokes. Her fingers pulled at the folds of her pussy as his fingers slid out, and released the tension as he penetrated her again. Everything said she was ready to come. He felt it, felt it in the way her hand pressed his head into her, in the throb of her clit under his tongue, in the silence where her gasps had been. He didn't change his pace or the motion of his tongue, just let her crawl closer and closer to the inevitable moment. Then suddenly the moment came and she was coming with a wail of ecstasy and thrashing of her hips as she caught his head between her legs and held him until the spasms passed. She turned and pulled back the sheets, crawled underneath and put her head down on the pillow. "That was so sweet, so right. I love you. I knew you would do it just right. I want you. I want you loving me slow and easy. I want to spread myself beneath you, put my legs around you, feel you slide yourself inside me." He slid under the covers, beside her. He felt very warm next to her, as they kissed she could feel his heartbeat and the hot length of his cock against her belly. If he hadn't moved to kneel between her legs, she would have pulled him there. She grabbed his cock and lubricated it with her spit, and doing the same to her pussy, guided him inside her. It was good and slow and everything she wanted it to be. He slowly filled her and she felt his hot stiffness inside, rubbing away the ache of desire. He stopped deep within her to kiss her, to rock their hips together and let her adjust beneath him. His withdrawal was deliciously slow, his return ecstasy. She knew he couldn't keep it slow forever, he must have been so excited himself. So when he pressed himself to her, burying his face in her neck and his fucking her quickened, she encouraged him. "Oh, yes, please come in me now, give it to me, fuck me, harder, oh yes, come in me, come, come, fuck me, oh, oh, oh!" She was coming herself, in a way she rarely had before. They cried out together in a mingled climax. It was their first time. Sisters Ng: White Hands by Deidre Ng Dear Tammy, Do you remember how we used to lie in the back yard, sunning ourselves? We'd spread out the towels and lie down head to head. The bathing suits came off and we passed the tanning lotion back and forth. I remember smearing it across my belly and up over my breasts, making sure it covered my skin completely was such a good excuse to rub my tits real well. The excess lotion would squish between my fingers as I pulled at my nipples, which felt just divinely stiff and huge. Then doing my legs without getting up, lifting and splaying my legs to rub myself along the thigh, working the lotion into my skin, rubbing really close to my pussy, legs still lifted, pussy pointed at the sky, rubbing around, fluffing my pussy hair, gently loosening my pussy lips, feeling them slide deliciously against each other. I'd get up and do your back after you turned over, and then you would do mine after I had lain back down again. We'd lie like that, stretched out in the back yard on our stomachs, tanning our backs for a while, usually until the sizzle of roasting flesh told us it was time to turn over. I could feel my breasts pressed into the terrycloth of the beach towel, and through that the grass stiffly pillowing me. Sometimes I would raise up on my elbows and let my tits swing against the towel til my nipples stiffened again. Its a good thing we had our own code of modesty, never looking at each other. Sometimes I would lift my ass and point it right at the sun, feeling the heat soak into my ass and pussy. Then I'd make you pass me the lotion and I'd spread it across my ass cheeks in an extra layer, not wanting to get burned in those sensitive spots, anticipating the feel of it rubbed into my crack and over my asshole, into the space between my ass and my pussy. I always shivered when my lotion covered fingers slid over my asshole, my nipples swelled and I got goosebumps no matter how hot it was. I willed my muscles to relax as I rubbed the lotion into my ass. I'd make sure my finger was well covered with the lotion before teasing my hole open, first just rubbing it around and around, then pressing gently on it and on the space that separated it from my pussy. Eventually my finger would slide in to my ass and I'd work it slowly deeper, til it felt all the way inserted. I'd fuck my ass with my finger until I got pretty breathless, then I'd take it out and catch my breath, savoring the sun beating into my skin and the residual feeling in my ass. If you weren't there I sometimes fingered my clit afterwards with my other hand, ass still pointing skyward, the extra warmth flooding me. It felt so good, all the warm juice running down over my clit. Imagining a boy becoming a man in me, long and stiff and so big, filling me, sliding up into my pussy. I'd come with my back arched and twisted as I reached back between my legs, face pressed against the terry towel, smelling its newly laundered smell. I still get wet from that smell. But the best thing when we were together in the back yard was turning over and lying face up. We were so close that the tops of our heads almost touched. Behind closed eyes the whole world was yellow and orange and red spots drifting around, and the warmth of the sun spreading across your skin. Then we would talk, girl talk, sister talk, I suppose anyone could have seen as much of us as they wanted, were they peeping, but they wouldn't have heard us. Our voices traveled just far enough for the other to hear. And we told each other stories. I suppose it started with the gross out stories we told each other as kids, ridiculous mock horror stories we'd whisper to each other at night across the room after we'd been yelled at three times to be quiet and go to sleep. Somewhere in the middle of my pubescence these seemed to all start taking an erotic edge. We also started telling them when we were sunbathing, though at first we didn't sunbathe in the nude. I remember awful stories full of a girl's worst fears, tinged with an excitement that seemed to linger between your legs after you listened to your sister spin wild fantasies. I remember stories of periods, getting them at the most inconvenient moments, being caught with no tampon, being seen changing your tampon by your sister, mother, boyfriend, stranger, gym class, on TV! There was no end to the ways your body could mortally embarass you. Being caught playing with yourself was another popular subject. Neither of us ever said where our knowlege of this subject came from, but we knew how to describe lifting your bra to squeeze your newly minted breasts and nipples, what it felt like to let your fingers wander down below the new grown patch of hair between your legs. So we told each other stories about being discovered in your bunk at church camp, the way the squeek of the springs gave you away, how the lights out monitor crept up to your bunk and suddenly clicked on the flashlight, the beam shining up between your legs, catching your finger plunged deep into your secret space. One day you told me a story about a girl and her boyfriend. He was wonderful to her, taking her on dates, giving her gifts, never looking at the sluts that would try any wild, lascivious thing to attract his attention. His kissing drove her wild and after their times together she would touch herself all over, wishing his hands would roam over her body. They were in love. And then one day they were alone in her parents house. They went up to her bedroom and closed the door. She sat on the edge of her bed, looking at him with desire. He stood looking at her, hands on his hips, feet apart. There was a strange look in his eye. "Would you like to give me a very special kiss?", he says. Of course, she says. "Then kiss me like this ..." He undid his belt and slipped his jeans over his ass. As he stripped her horror grew as she understood what he wanted her to do. His hand slid into his underwear and pulled out his thick, snakelike cock. A few quick pumps of his hand and it was stiff, pointing straight at her mouth. Her jaw hung open, she was horrified at the thought of what he wanted from her. He took it as an invitation to step closer. I remember giggling nervously, interrupting you just as he cradled the back of her head and began to draw her lips closer to his throbbing cock. "Tammy, you are so gross! Not in a million years, not for a million dollars would I ever, ever do that. I mean, just imagine if he, if he, you know..." I couldn't bring myself to express the image that was flashing over and over in my head, the girl's lips stretched wide around the head of his gigantic cock, the spurting jets of white come landing in her mouth. "You didn't let me finish the story," you said. "You mean she kissed it?" "She kissed it and licked it." "She licked it? "She licked it and sucked it." "She sucked it?" "She sucked it all the way in and out again and after a while it was just like he was fucking her mouth, he was pumping it into her so deep." "She let him fuck her mouth?" "Til he got even stiffer and thicker and with one last slide over her tongue he spilled it into her mouth and she held it in her mouth while his cock shot out his hot white come and it mixed with her spit and her mouth was so full of his cock and his come and her spit that she thought she was going to choke, so she started to swallow it." "That's completely gross, Tammy, how could you even say that." "You're such a jerk, Deedee. It's just a story. Besides, there's nothing you'd like better than to get shot full like that in your pussy, and maybe someday some old blind deaf guy who's gonna die tomorrow anyway will take pity on your desperate virginity and spill his last drop into you. But if a wad of come doesn't give you cramps when it's in your pussy, I don't think it would make you throw up or anything if you swallowed it." "Like you're the expert." "Like it was my turn to tell the story, ok? It's your turn next, so you can tell a better one." Which ended that conversation. I lay there thinking about your story. I was the girl. My nipples were stiff and tingling. My mouth was open. My clit was throbbing. I shifted on the towel and parted my legs. It was in my mouth, this boy's cock, wet and thick, sliding over my lips and gagging me. One hand drifted down to start tracing the outline of my cunt, following the base of the mound, delicately touching the centerline where the lips met. My knowlege of how to pleasure myself was so new then, I always approached my pussy with amazement that such powerful feelings could be hidden in such a small and heretofore inconspicuous part of my body. My outer lips seemed to unfold at the slightest touch. I swallowed a gasp as my finger grazed my clit. My other hand had found one of my nipples and was lightly stroking it. Can a girl lie on a towel in her back yard and come so quietly her sister doesn't notice, even though her sister is lying next to her? I tried. So by now I'm sure you remember how we used to sunbathe in the nude in our backyard, and I'll admit how clueless I was about cocksucking. While I did do some nude sunbathing in Greece this summer, and I did get fucked while sunbathing in the nude in Greece this summer, the reason I remembered this really has to do with a woman that I work with named Sally. She's very nice, very tall and elegant looking, long thin fingers and elegant, finely boned hands. We work in the same department, similar jobs, and we always got along. One day last spring I was in the ladies room right after lunch, standing in front of the mirror brushing my hair, getting ready to put it back in a pony tail. She came up beside me and started touching up her makeup. We were alone. Out of nowhere she leaned over to me and said in this kind of stage whisper, "Well, someone got fucked during lunch today." Since I had gotten fucked during lunch that day, I was completely mortified. We had been walking back to the office when David had said to me, "How'd you like to get fucked for dessert?" "OK, but where?" Manhattan has millions of square feet of vacant office space. We used about sixteen to twenty in a building about a block and a half from the one we work in. It was really a quickie, he shucked his shoes and pants, I peeled off my nylons and panties and I pushed him down and sat on his cock. I had gotten pretty wet on the elevator ride. I fucked him really fast, it felt so good feeling him get harder and harder inside me. He came and I came and I forgot to breathe for a while and then he slid out of me and we cleaned up with some tissues I had in my purse. Ten to fifteen minutes, max. I must have turned ten shades of red. "Does it show that much?" "Not after I fix my lipstick." She looked at me. "I really did mean me, you look fine. But if the shoe fits..." She smiled. "It does wonders for your attitude, doesn't it?" Since then Sally and I were members of the Attitude Adjustment Club. We would cross paths and make small talk and if the phrase attitude adjustment came up, we knew we talking about getting fucked. Sally just returned from a two week vacation. She's a real golf nut, so I think she and her husband spent the whole time at some place like Hilton Head, golfing. I saw her the morning of her first day back. She was tanned almost chocolate. Everywhere but her hands, which were snow white. It was so unusual, I just stared at her hands throughout this big meeting our department has. Watching her take notes, I thought it was like a pair of doves had decided to settle down in front of her. Every once in a while they would flutter up to pull at a strand of her hair that was out of place. Or that she was wearing a pair of white gloves, and any minute she would take them off to reveal her tanned skin underneath. Of course it was her golfing gloves that were responsible. I went over to her as the meeting broke up. I said she looked great, the vacation must have been quite relaxing. Oh, yes, she said, a major attitude adjustment, we'd have to have lunch and talk about it. We sat in the lunchroom, at a table as private as possible, but still we spoke just loud enough for the other one to hear. "Yes, we tried to play at least eighteen holes a day. Its the most golf I've ever played in so short a time. We had a great time, I found the courses very challenging, but by the end I had picked up some of the nuances, which kept me from making the mistakes I made at the beginning. My golfing outfit is always very casual, I'm not one of these dress-up lady golfers. I prefer a light cotton blouse with big arm holes and shorts, and I play braless when possible. My husband says its our secret weapon, since it distracts any opponent." I could see why. Sally was very shapely. I supposed many female golfers might be upset with effect she had on their partners, and the partners would always be looking for a peek into those big arm holes. "We played a few rounds with another couple that was staying for the same two weeks we were and had dinner and drinks with them too. After the first couple of times this other woman, who was named Traci, was wearing pretty much the same outfit as me, and I caught my husband trying to sneak a peek at her boobs a few times. I told her in the locker room that now I knew how it felt to be on the receiving end of the boob trick. She laughed. We were both bare chested at the time. She said that if he wanted to see any more of her we'd have to go double dating. I asked her what she meant. "Don't you remember going on double dates as a teenager? If you were getting fucked in the back seat and the other couple was screwing in the front you usually got a few flashes of skin from them. One time I was fucking my boyfriend in the front seat. He was kind of slouched down and I was turned around sitting on his cock. I was bouncing along, sliding up and down his rod while he played with my tits. In the back was this girlfriend of mine and her boyfriend. Since I was turned around like that I got to watch her give him a blowjob start to finish. The first glimpse I got of them, they had all their clothes on, but her blouse was all opened up and her bra undone, and his hand was up her skirt. As we made out in the front seat I could here the squishy sound of his fingers in her cunt. It got me all excited, that and the noises she was making. My boyfriend was obviously excited too, so I decided to make some squishy sounds of my own. Well, by the time I had finished working him into me my girlfriend had come already and was moving to reciprocate. She had her boyfriends pants down and he was in one corner of the back seat with one leg up on the seat and one leg splayed out in front. She was kneeling on the seat, her tits swinging free. She was just starting to go down on him. I watched his cock disappear into her mouth, then come out again all wet and glistening. I found myself matching her stroke for stroke. It really turned me on. My boy friend got a real tight pussy that night. I rode him til he got so he had to pump it into me, and as he came I could feel myself letting go too, even as I saw the white dribbles of this other guy's come slide down his cock as my girlfriend sucked him off." Sally looked at me. "Understand, this is all said to a pretty much absolute stranger, half naked in a women's locker room in Hilton Head, South Carolina. But I had to agree with her. I had more than one double date myself where stuff like that happened. Certainly I knew that some other girl was getting it good about two feet away from me. I've heard guys grunting as they came in my friends mouth or pussy or whereever. I've even done what she did. Once while my boyfriend and I kissed in the front seat and his hand tried to find a way inside my jeans, I watched a girl I knew, out of the corner of my eye, give a hand job to a guy she had just met. No wonder she was so popular. They were kissing deep and hard while her hand stroked him. Her tee shirt was pushed up over her boobs, and he was tweaking one of her nipples pretty hard. When he got close to coming they stopped kissing and they both just watched as her hand teased the come out of him. Then she bent down and sucked it all off to clean up. Yeah, she was popular. It got me so excited, I came before my boyfriend had my panties off." Understand, this is all said to a pretty much absolute stranger, completely and professionally dressed in a lunchroom in lower Manhattan. But I had to agree with her. I've had more than one double date myself where stuff like that has happened. I've known it when some guy got it good from a friend of mine about two feet away from me. I've heard girls go over the edge, moaning, sighing, wailing as they came from the slow hand or quick tongue of a guy. I've even done what she did. The first time I ever saw a girl take a cock from behind was in the back seat while I was in the front, hand jobbing my highschool sweetheart. She rolled down the window and rested her head halfway out. He was up and over her, bent low across her back. She rocked her ass back and forth, and I could see his cock, lubricated with her juice, glinting wetly by the light of a distant streetlight. She must have been pretty tight with her legs close together on the seat. After a while he plunged deep into her and she arched her back and made this little animal sound in her throat and their bodies started slapping together harder and harder. The moment he came in her they were pressed together, frozen like statues. I knew all the action was taking place deep inside her, her pussy clenching his spasming cock. The look on her face, that was when I decided I didn't want to be a virgin any more. "Anyway," Sally said," anyway I told this to my husband who thought it pretty funny, but who was also very interested in the part where I told him what this woman Traci looked like with no shirt on. So we had dinner with Traci and Mark, her husband, a couple of days later, and we all had a a drink or two, so we were all laughing and being silly about what fools we had all been getting caught in this sand trap or that piece of rough and the subject of distractions comes up and we all know that what we're talking about are the two pairs of boobs present. Well mine perked right up and Traci started to blush and everyone could see her nipples standing up. Now the talk turned into a description of sex in terms of golf. I was feeling very randy and I squeezed my husbands cock through his pants, and I was very happy to find it stiff when I did. The check came and after we had wrangled out who was paying for what, there was general agreement that a "hole" of "night golf" was in order. Both couples were starting to share rather passionate kisses as we waited for the elevator. We got in and pushed the buttons for our floors. My husband's hand was fondling my ass. Suddenly this guy Mark says, "Would you like to double date with us in our room?" We knew just what he meant, our room had two double beds also. I looked at my husband. "Let us go back to our room and talk it over. What's your room number?" To cut to the chase we decided to trust them. They opened the door and the men shook hands and the ladies kissed each others cheeks. We agreed that this was not about wife swapping or orgies, just a little fun making love to your spouse in the same room as someone else was making love to their spouse. Casual looking was allowed but neither couple was hung up on watching or being watched. Other than that we didn't make any rules. Well, how interesting is it to hear about two married couples making love? We each took a bed. The lights were off, but it was a full moon, so when your eyes adjusted you could still see in a kind of romantic paleness. My husband undressed me and kissed me all over before stripping himself. He knelt at the bedside and parted my legs and kissed my skin up and down my thighs before kissing my pussy. Normally I would just lie there and enjoy one of the best feelings known to women, but this time I propped myself up on my elbows to watch my pussy get eaten, which is fun, and to see what Traci and Mark were up to. Turns out Traci was on the floor also, going down on Mark. My husband said later that when she first got down on the floor she was ass to ass with him, but then moved over so that they weren't touching. Mark could have seen all of me that he wanted to, except for the part my husband was busy licking, but he seemed to have his eyes closed, and he was softly stroking Traci's hair as she sucked his cock. I know he pulled her up and had her mount him before he came, but by then I was caught up in what was happening between my own legs. My husbands fingers were stroking my pussy while his tongue flicked my clit, a combination sure to make me come. I wasn't quiet about it either, not that I disturbed the governor in his mansion, but Traci and Mark now know what I sound like when I come, and probably the people in the next room, too. I like his cock inside me after I come, I love feeling the glow of the orgasm sloshing around in me while his cock sinks deeper and deeper into my ultra juicy cunt. He just stood up after I came and leaned over the edge of the bed, leaned over and into me. As he got fully into me I let go a really deep sigh, it is so satisfying to get fucked like that by the man you love." Sally squirmed in her seat a little, and for sure I knew why. Her description had my pussy pulsing. I was flushed and felt my blood throbbing in my neck. "We double dated them twice more. The day we left we said good bye to them. We exchanged addresses and all. Maybe we'll see them again. And how was your summer vacation?" I told her all about Greece. Two nice things happened in Greece that I haven't told you about yet. One was that we were swimming one day, I forget the island we were on. We swam out from the beach to this big rock and when we swam around it to the seaward side of it we found that it had a little sealevel cave in it, with a little pebble beach. We got out of the water and sat there for a while. We started kissing and the next thing I knew the suits were off. We kept on kissing and my hand found his cock. I just held him and stroked him in a lazy romantic way. I know it's got other uses, but sometimes it's just nice to hold on to. His hand drifted between my legs. Our kissing got a little more serious. He made me wet his finger in my mouth to lubricate his slow exploration of my pussy. Each time he interrupted our kissing I got a stronger and stronger taste of my own juice. After he gets me excited like that I'm lousy at mutual masturbation or sixty-nine. My consciousness drains out of my head and gathers in my clit. I held on to his cock, squeezing it, enjoying the way it filled my hand, rubbing him during the pauses when I was licking his fingers. I knew I was far enough along that this little scene was going the direction of an orgasm for me. But there's lots of ways to come. I usually come when I fuck him. It suprised me when we first started making love, how he'd be inside me and all of a sudden I'd be bucking up and down on him. My past experience certainly hadn't prepared me for it. Anyway, this time I used my last shred of higher cognition to push him down and roll over on top of him. I humped him with our backs to the blue Aegean. I wanted to take him slow, but I was already so far gone myself that his first total penetration made me lose control. If you were swimming past that cave you would have seen me pumping up and down his cock, my pussy taking it up to his balls, pulling off him and back down again. Just the base of his cock showing as the strokes got deeper and shorter, the lips of my cunt stretched tight around his cock. When its hot like this there's not even time to reach down and flick my clit. My toes clenched as I came, came so hard I couldn't feel him coming inside me. It turns out that someone had been swimming by. I lifted myself off his cock and sprawled at his side. Looking out over the water I saw a snorkeler about fifty yards out. Who knows how much he saw of us? Probably the whole fondling, frigging, fucking thing. I waved at him. He gave me the thumbs up sign and disappeared into the water. With privacy reestablished for the moment, I scooted down to the edge of the water. Spreading my legs, I let the gently lapping surf roll up between my legs and break against my pussy. I lay there in the sun, letting the ocean play with me. Sometimes the water would crest up over my hips and thighs and I'd feel it creep up among the pepples along my back, almost to my shoulder blades. The sudden coolth would me make me arch my back in suprise, nipples stiff. Other times the water pooled gently between my legs, the warmth of the surface water tingling the roots of my pussy hair. Then I felt that if I wanted to give it time, the surf could carress me til I would come, that this tongue of the sea would lick at me til it tasted my juice squeezed out of me by its incessant lapping. Some waves rolled up my legs and slapped against my pussy just where my clit was buried and I had to gasp at how good it felt. It got to where I could tell from how the wave felt rolling up my thighs if it would catch me just right. I lay there in trembling anticipation of the next one that would hit me there. Yes, I think I could have come, had I lain there long enough. We swam back in when David recovered from my fucking him. I saw the snorkler on the beach. He was with a group of friends. He was pointing out to the rock where he had seen us making love. He pounded his fist down onto his open palm, obviously recounting my lovemaking technique. I didn't bother watching his version of how I waved to him. Probably in his telling he came up out of the water and had me suck him. Like I said before, there was also a time I was lying on our private balcony sunning nude. David came up behind me with the tanning lotion and drizzled it on my back. Lying there, drowsy from the heat, it felt like ice water. I squealed and half turned and accused him of all sorts of nastiness before he calmed me down. I let him spread it around on my back after I lay down again. He squeezed more out onto his hands. He rubbed it into my ass cheeks and the back of my thighs. I spread my legs apart to let him sit between them to do my thighs. I was pretty well lotioned up, and the exercise had become more of a massage than a lotioning. He kneaded my ass muscles and began to rub the crack of my ass with his thumbs. Starting from just under my tail bone, moving slowly deeper, circling around to start at the top again. Deep enough and he reversed his thumbs to push down over my asshole, coming to rest just short of my pussy. He circled and retraced this path a few more times and then started to concentrate on massaging my asshole and the space between it and my pussy. It was all so enjoyable, the warm drowsiness of sunbathing modulating slowly into sexual arousal and desire, layered with the awareness that I was living out one of my hottest teenage fantasies. I let the tension creep into me, from the pleasure of his hands rubbing my skin, following his focus on more and more sensitive areas. He was alternating between circling between my asshole and my pussy, and circling my asshole alone. His fingers pressed firmly into my flesh as they moved, sliding over my lotioned skin. I lifted my ass and spread my legs out wider, as wide as when he kneels behind me and I guide his cock between the hot slippery walls of my fleshy pulsing cunt. He kept up the slow massage of my ass and skin, pressing a bit harder and more directly into the center of my hole than before. I responded by reaching between my legs and spreading open my pussy lips, tilting my ass so that he couldn't fail to see the swollen pink mound of my cunt. Still he didn't change his massage. Maybe he needed directions. I licked my finger and slipped it into my pussy. I knew he could see it gliding in and out, making every surface wet and ready for him. Still he kept up the slow working of his finger around my asshole. I started to plead, to beg. "Fuck me, fuck me, I need it now, I'm so ready for you. Please." "That's the magic word." I reached back a little more between my legs and there he was, ready and waiting. Taking his cock in hand I pulled him forward. His cock plunged into me and my pussy swallowed it up. I felt his legs inside mine. Pushing back, I felt him stiffen and brace himself so that my thrust would push him deeper into me. He pulled back til just his cock head was in me, and he teased me for a bit before letting me work him back in. All those sunny summer afternoons in the back yard came true then. I felt his cock running deep and hot into me, pussy clamped tight around it. Heat spreading throughout my body, centered in the sliding friction of his stiff member against the walls of my cunt. Holding myself still to recieve his thrust or pushing back myself to take greedily, we compressed and rebounded over and over. Finally I felt him swell and grow even more stiff and large. Our tempo increased to an endless slapping together, that finally did end as I felt his come spill into the deepest reaches of my pussy. He pulled out of me and we collapsed together. He half covered me, his leg across mine, the last drops of his semen oozing out of his cock and over my thigh. The shadow of our hostel crept across us like a blanket being slowly drawn up over us, and we both fell asleep til dinner time. We were out of the sun, so we didn't burn, but the air was warm and the flagstones were warm under our bodies, so we didn't mind the shade. A wonderful culmination of my fantasy. "Well," said Sally, "you had quite a vacation." She squirmed some more in her seat. "Time to go back to work, but it was a wonderful lunch. Not quite like one like we've both had..." and she winked, "but invigorating nonetheless." We went back to our floor. I gave her a minute head start, then went to the ladies room. Her pumps were visible from under one of the closed stall doors. I took a stall one away from her. Sitting there, I imagined Sally entering the stall and lifting her skirt, rolling down her nylons and panties hurriedly. She relieves herself perhaps and sits quietly as someone else enters the room, me. Now that the person is gone she licks one long elegant finger, one snow white finger, and reaches down under the folds of her bunched up skirt to test the puffy flesh between her legs. One snow white hand holds her pussy open while the other quickly teases the head of her clit. She bites back the noises she would normally make, but faintly, faintly the sound of her breathing and the sound of her hand flickering ever quicker across her clit rises from her stall. Can a woman come in a bathroom stall so quietly that her friend two stalls away can't hear? She tried. That night I came home to an empty apartment. Jasmine curled around my ankles proprietarily, of course, but David wasn't there. He's in Japan for three weeks. It already feels like forever. I had a light supper and retired to the bedroom. Rummaging in the closet, I found something I'd been thinking about, something I'd need eventually as winter approaches. I lit a candle and turned off the lights. I stripped and stood one of my big pillows up on end against the headboard for a backrest. I looked myself over in the mirror above my dresser, noting how my hair flowed over my shoulder, how my breasts moved when I turned from side to side, how I flared at the hip and how my pubic hair seemed to lead the eyes between my legs. Sitting on the bed I picked up the pair of gloves I had found in the closet. Ultra soft calves leather, fur lined gloves, they reach just to the wrist. Sitting naked on the bed, leaning back against the upright pillow, I pulled the gloves on. The fur felt soft and sensual as it slid over my hands. I held my hands out to admire them after I had pulled them on. They looked like the hands of midnight. I cupped my breasts with them, and pressed my nipples between my gloved fingers. The fur felt better on my fingertips than the leather did on my breasts, though that was still pleasurable. I pulled them off and poked at the fingers until they reversed. Then I reached in and pulled each glove completely inside out. Now I had a pair of snow white fur gloves, lined in ultra smooth calves leather. I could feel my heart beating faster as I pulled them on again. Again I cupped my breasts with my gloved hands, but this time I held my hands a quarter inch away from my skin. The fur was just grazing my skin. My breasts felt warm in the trapped and reflected heat of their own making. Very slowly I made little circles with my cupped hands, enjoying each new sensation as the fur stimulated my breasts. My nipples were aching to be touched, looking down at myself, I could see that they were standing up, erect and sensitive. I circled their bases and felt goosebumps rise across my body. I shivered and started to stroke them lightly. My fingers were sweating against the leather. I gave in to the desire to take my breasts in hand and squeeze and pinch myself, shuddering at the resulting wave of pleasure. To my hands it was like I was touching someone else's skin, to my breasts it was like a wonderful soft animal was carressing me. I felt myself all over with my white hands, even holding open my pussy to stroke my clit. I sat back and played with my breasts for a long, long time, letting the carresses and pinches and pulls make some visceral connection with my cunt. I went back over all the sex I had heard or talked or thought about that day. I imagined Sally, chocolate brown all over except for her snow white hands, pulling at the chocolate brown cock of her husband. The contrast between the white and dark skin excited me, and I imagined that as he got more and more aroused by her stroking, he got darker and darker in her hand, until the moment his snow white come shot out of him. I thought about that over and over, and Sally on the lavatory seat, her snow white hands between her chocolate thighs teasing her open pussy over and over til she comes silently, or nearly so. Finally I gave in to my desire to touch my pussy and clit directly. I took off one of the gloves and tucked it under me, just where the space was between my ass and my pussy. I licked my fingers to explore my cunt, all its spaces and curves and crevices, to make them all wet, to find inside them the deep pleasure of my womanhood. My other hand stayed gloved, at my breast, creeping across to the other occasionally. I teased myself farther and farther into the state of ecstacy, convulsing finally over the image of a dark cock suspended over me, spewing endless gobs of shockingly white come all over me. I pulled the glove off and put the pair on the dresser. I blew out the candle and climbed back in bed, and fell asleep on my side, holding the big pillow in my arms, another between my knees, a little one under my head. Well, it's been a long letter, maybe because like I said, David is away. Again, maybe because I'm alone right now I feel the need to say I love you dearly. Hugs and kisses from Brooklyn, dd Sisters Ng: Hands On, by Deidre Ng "You know, you've never made me come in your hand." "I can fix that." I sat on our bed and he stood in front of me, between my legs. I could smell myself, the smell of excitement rising from my pussy. His cock bobbed in front of me, stiff and eager. I fought the urge to kneel, to slip off the bed onto the floor and take him in my mouth. The urge to run my hands up the back of his thighs, over his buttocks, while I kissed around his groin. The urge to plant kisses along his shaft from base to head, to play with him, wetting him, before taking him, swallowing him whole. How long had it been since I gave a guy a hand job? I did it so often in high school. I remember the first time my boyfriend (of the time) opened his pants. We had been kissing, deep passionate sloppy kissing. He had reached into my shirt to squeeze my breasts through the padding of my bra. That night I took the step of unhooking the clasp and letting his hand slip the sweaty cup off my breast and feel me directly. As his hand found the hard, tingling mountain of my nipple I gasped. Suddenly I had to have my hand similarly occupied with his flesh. I wanted to explore by feel the contours of his erection, just as he was exploring the surface of my breast, tracing the transition from smooth taut skin to rougher aureole, from rough aureole to stiff nipple. I wanted what I knew was straining for release behind his zipper. I wanted my hand to experience what I had only seen in pictures, the veined shaft, the smooth space below the head, the bulge of the head itself. I wanted to cradle his cock head and feel it's blood warmth. He gave my nipple a tentative pinch between his thumb and forefinger. I slipped one arm from around his neck and let my hand fall against his pants. I ran the back of my fingers along the bulge that his erection made in his jeans, that was all the prodding he needed. We broke our embrace as he unbuckled and unzipped himself. I pulled off my shirt and bra. He stopped to admire my breasts for the first time before pulling his underwear down and freeing his cock. I shivered from the sudden coolth on my skin mixing with the warmth and ache in my pussy. He responded by gathering me into his arms again. I resisted. I wanted to look at him. I reached down and pulled at the elastic band of his underwear. His cock swung completely free. Starting in about the fourth grade, the girls in my school began sharing rumors about boys, and what they had in their pants, and what they wanted to do with it, to you. "Don't you know, it's huge! And they want to put it into that little hole that's behind where your pee comes out, there's no way it fits. And after they push it all the way in and you feel like your gonna break in two 'cause it's all the way inside you then it shoots all this milky stuff inside you. And that's what babies come from." This nugget of information was passed around the school yard, causing squeals of terror and revulsion by myself and my classmates. But whenever we told it over to each other, there was always a certain breathless excitement to the teller's delivery that belied the shared reaction. These tales always made us blush, but not the blush of embarrassment. I would lay awake at night and think about what "all the way inside you" meant. Meditating on this mantra, I would pull up my nightshirt and trace the naked lips of my pussy under my covers. Into this hole, where my finger barely fit? I probed there. It was damp inside there, and tight around the tip of my finger. If I held the tip of my finger inside and thought about "all the way inside you" it got tighter all of a sudden and a little shiver went up my spine. There was this other place inside my pussy that I found then, because it tingled when I did these things. It was a kind of buried itch. I used to rub myself outside my pussy to calm that itch, but when I started to explore that damp hole I discovered that my dampened finger, rubbed between my lips, made the itchy place feel so much better. It made my whole pelvic area feel warm. It all came back to me when I saw his cock swing free. I wrapped my hand around the base of it. He reached for my breasts again and we resumed kissing. He fondled me as we kissed, and my hand crept slowly up the length of his cock. Finally, I had his cock head cradled lightly in my hand. I could feel the sweat on my hand. He squeezed my breast and I responded by squeezing his cock. We began trading squeezes. His fingers found my nipple and stroked it. My hand curled around his cock till my thumb lay in the cleft of his cock head. I found a dot of fluid there. I wiped it onto my thumb. He pulled at my nipple and nibbled my lip. I wiped the fluid down his cock. He pulled at my nipple again. I rubbed the wet streak of skin. He was breathing heavily into my mouth. He pulled, I rubbed. He pulled, I rubbed. Suddenly, he grunted and I felt his come spilling onto my hand. I was afraid I had hurt him somehow. I looked down, my hand frozen, watching the white come ooze out of him. We both said, "I'm sorry" at once, and then giggled at our shared unease. His come was sliding off my wrist into the hair of his balls. With my other hand I unclasped my pocketbook and reached for the tissues my mother insisted I always carry. Together we cleaned up his come. That night I lay in bed after I was dropped off. I kept smelling the back of my hand as it traveled between my pussy and my mouth. Finally, I switched hands and put the one that was marked with the smell of his come over my nose while I stroked my clit with the other, till the thought of him all the way inside, spilling that odd smelling stuff into me, made me convulse. Over the course of several boyfriends, I learned how to lubricate my hand, and when to make a ring of my thumb and forefinger to slip the head through. How to catch the come as it spurted out and use it as a lubricant itself. How to finger myself to sleep with one hand cupped over my nose to recall the smell of their come. When I was very familiar with how it smelled and what it felt like in my hand, I began to take the first steps beyond hand sex. One night I jerked off my boyfriend. It had become routine for me. I always followed my mother's rule about tissues. I gave some to my boyfriend, who dabbed away at the base of his cock. I had a glob of his come caught in the depression that can form between thumb and forefinger. I turned away from him, holding my hand so as to not let the come spill. I pretended to reach for a tissue, because I didn't want him to suspect the truth of what I had screwed up the courage to do. First I brought the come under my nose and sniffed. It was the smell I learned to expect, but stronger, fresher. Before my resolve could dissipate, I raised my hand to my lips and wiped the come across them. I could still turn back, wipe my lips with a tissue and retreat into girlhood for a little while longer. My lips parted and I inhaled. The smell again, and with it, courage. My tongue flicked out, circling, tasting, collecting to be savored and, yes, swallowed, the come I had wiped there. I tasted more and more come in that surreptitious way. One night there weren't enough tissues, and I made a big impression on my new boyfriend by calmly licking his come off my hand. After that my mouth was always closer and closer at hand when he came, until the night I short circuited the transfer of my saliva from my mouth to my hand to his cock by applying it directly with my tongue. I brought him off with my hand, and licked his come off my lips. Shortly thereafter, I was taking his cock in my mouth from exhilarating start to intoxicating finish. Crossing that threshold seemed to close the door on the era of the hand job, as much as open the era of the blow job. Once I was comfortable with cocksucking, neither I nor my boyfriends were satisfied with a mere hand job. I can only remember once in college, sitting in Lover's Lane, the last row of seats in a cavernous lecture hall, so high up you needed lift tickets to sit there. The hall dimmed for the presentation of slides, and there was no room to kneel, so I pulled slowly on his cock as the art of the Hudson River School flashed past on the screen. Back in the present, I wet his cock with saliva pooled in my palm. I thought about how easily it would slide into me, slick like that. I often got him slick with my spit applied by hand, before he entered me. Now I just had to remember all the old lessons that I used only occasionally now, like when I needed a breather during a blow job. I looked up at his face. He was smiling dreamily, enjoying my warm liquid massage of his cock flesh. I looked down at his cock, sliding in and out of view, splendidly hot and stiff. "I know you love me. I love you. I love to make you come. I love your come inside me, when I'm tight and slippery. I can feel your cock getting bigger, the head getting bigger and hotter right before you come. I love that feeling. I love feeling you come in my mouth. I love feeling your come splash against my lips and then I open them and lick it off and take you in my mouth again and suck the last of it out of you. I love it when you come really messy- like, and it goes all over my cheeks, and I feel little hot drips running down my neck and between my breasts while I suck you till your soft in my mouth. I love it when a big glob of come lands on my chest and I wipe it up with my finger and lick it clean. I love wetting my nipple with it and making myself excited, smearing it around on my nipple, knowing you're watching me, feeling you get hard again in my mouth from watching me." Talking so much about his come was getting us both very excited. He shifted his stance, spreading his legs and pushing his hips forward. His cock was just outside my pussy. He had fucked me many times in a position like this, standing at the bedside while I lay with my pussy just at the edge of the bed. I leaned back, propped up on one arm. Through my own spread legs I held him so that the head of his cock just grazed my pussy lips. "You're gonna come all over my pussy. That hot white come is gonna splash onto me, between my lips. Right on my clit. You're gonna make me come, just by coming on me." I lay down completely. With the hand that wasn't wrapped around his cock, I spread my pussy lips. I held him so that the cleft in his cock head formed wet slick walls for my clit to rub against. Like intercourse in miniature, with the roles reversed. Pulling on his shaft, his head rubbed back and forth over my clit. With a bit of self control and a lot of experience of each others bodies and rhythms, we teetered on the edge of coming together. With one last bath of saliva covering him, I looked down at his cock head sliding puffy red and purple against my pussy lips, butting against my clit. "Come on me, please, spill it on to me. I can feel it in your cock. I..." He was coming on me and the white wave of come filled the narrow end of my pussy and spilled out over my lips. His cock shuddered against me as I pulled on him. A shot of his come engulfed my clit and I was over the edge myself, coming as my clit throbbed against his cock in a bath of his come. I lay back, happy. He was wiping his cock against the walls of my pussy, not really penetrating me, but not wanting to pull away. His come got all runny and crept down the sides of my pussy. Just like that old boyfriend, he started to get hard again when I started licking up the come he had spilled on me. I looked at him between licks. "Happy?" "I knew you had it in you." "Now I have it on me." "Touche." "That, too. Are you planning on fucking me with that?" His semi hard cock slipped into me. I sighed. "Yes." One last lick to spread my lips so that he could really get inside me, then I put my arms over my head and let him take me. The phrase "all the way inside me" bounced around inside my head. I held my fingers under my nose, inhaled his smell and let the memories take me, too. Written tongue in ...! Celestial Previews #1 - Christmas Special Maybe I've been a little naughty this year, but only in the cause of being nice. So I'm sure Santa will fill up my stocking (fishnet) with all sorts of goodies. But just in case he's not a big reader of a.s.s. the following is my wish list of stories I want to see posted. Of course my biggest wish is that they all be correctly spelled and properly punctuated. "We Love You Sailor, Moon!" by TuxedoMan (anime parody, bondage) 6 "Silly Leads To Trouble" by Testostragon (cross dressing) 8 "Kinko's" by deirduh (sex at Kinko's) 10 "Soo's 29th: Christmas Is Coming!" by Soo (mistletoe with a twist) 10 "Olympic Roommates" by AnDy (perfect strangers make perfect lovers) 2 "Sisters Ng: FuckNg" by Tammi Ng (fucking) 10 "Backrub With The Vampire" by Bckrb (vampires, massage, romance) 8 "We Love You Sailor, Moon!" by TuxedoMan (TuxedoMan@loa.com) Don't you just hate parodies? I know I do, especially sophomoric, self referential ones. If the writer has a good idea, she should take the time to make it even better by developing her own setting. Too much parody and pastiche relies on in-jokes and background the reader is supposed to already know, so it fails to entertain the majority of readers. After I read this story I had to whip my husband's naked ass repeatedly before I felt better. The plot, such as there is: TuxedoMan is a magician who does kids' birthday parties. His current job is a Sailor Moon themed event, with all the girls dressed as different Sailors. The birthday girl is, of course, Sailor Moon. All the cute little girls in uniform really turn on TuxedoMan, who stays at the party after his show is over, pretending to 'capture' each Sailor in turn. Finally the party is over, the guests pile into the mom's van to go home, and TuxedoMan volunteers to help clean up. He's left alone in the house with Sailor Moon. Memorable dialogue: "But TuxedoMan, you never captured _me_! " Sailor Moon soon discovers that the handcuffs are real. Now at this point I thought, gee, pedophilic bondage scene #35 coming up. I failed to anticipate the anime side of the story, not being keen on Sailor Moon myself. With her skirt up and her panties around her ankles, her naked ass a moment away from the first lick of TuxedoMan's cane, our little heroine cries out in desperation the transforming words of Sailor Moon, AND THEY WORK! But, this being a sex story, instead of marching TuxedoMan down to the precinct house our heroine decides that now that she has the upper hand, the proper thing to do is make TuxedoMan eat her hairless, virgin pussy. Go figure. A well punctuated story. (Rating: 6) "Silly Leads To Trouble" by Testostragon (an365608@anon.penet.if). A young boy has a secret hankering to dress up in his sister's clothes. He masturbates with her bra. He secretly retrieves her old school uniform from the family garage sale. One day he decides to play hooky from his oppressive, all boys private school and sneak into his sisters all girls private school, wearing her old uniform. Unfortunately for him, Phys Ed is second period. The girls discover the truth about their new friend. This being a Testostragon story, you know that the boy will be initiated into the right way of thinking about the proper relationship of boys and girls (All Boys Are Toys) through pain and humiliation, even more so because of his hubris of trying to pass for one of the Masters. I like these stories, in spite of the ridiculous philosophical ranting, perhaps because they are so well punctuated. (Rating: 8) "Kinko's" by deirduh (an365608@anon.penet.if). I've said so repeatedly that deirduh is the Sherwood Anderson of a.s.s., that she is Sherwood Anderson reincarnated, etc. that you must be absolutely bored to tears by that characterization and grit your teeth whenever I review another fourteen stories in a row by this prolific author, who is beyond any doubt an avatar of Sherwood Anderson. It's easy to a write a review of a deirduh story that's longer than the original story. To avoid this problem, I will simply reprint the entire story in this space: Disclaimer: my stories, like the private sex fantasies of many people, often depict "breaking some rules". Do not read this story if you would rather take a cold shower. Kinko's by deirduh I really like my new job as night shift manager at Kinko's. Lots of free time to read, not too many customers, but those that do come in are usually rush jobs, important work for their businesses, etc. About 11:30 this woman came in, a real knockout blonde. She said she needed this whole book printed, ten copies, bound. I could hardly take my eyes off her as I queued up the job on our big Kodak machine, long legs, short skirt. Once the job started I tried to make small talk with her. I told her the job would take a while, did she want to take a seat and talk. She barely noticed me, just stared at the pages shooting through the Kodak's feeder, hitting the platen, the bloom of light as they were imaged. She seemed impatient, and a couple of times she clamped her legs together, squirmed and bit her lip, like she needed to relieve herself. About halfway through the job she suddenly shouted at me. "Stop the job!" I hit the interrupt and the pages stopped their flight through the innards of the machine. I turned to ask her what was wrong when I saw her lift the feeder off the glass platen. "Hey, customers aren't allowed...," I couldn't finish my sentence because my jaw was hanging open. She had hopped up onto the Kodak. She lifted her skirt, she had no panties on! She sat down bare assed on the glass. "Oh God Yes!" She sounded enraptured. I knew the glass must be hot. "Quick, a hundred copies!" I jumped at the tone of command and urgency in her voice. My shaking fingers punched the keypad. As the big copier hummed to life she spread her legs and rolled her hips forward. The motion must have pressed her cunt against the hot glass. She squealed and tipped her head back and began to fondle her ample breasts through her clothing. Then the imaging light began to flash, every half a second. She grunted as it illuminated her cunt and ass and legs. She twisted and writhed as the light shot weird shadows up around her face. Around copy 75 she started coming, bending over and groaning so loudly I could hear her passion over the roar of the machine. She twitched and shuddered until the run ended, then she slid off the machine and collapsed on the floor. I looked at the glass. It was covered with her pussy juice. "Hey, are you OK?" I tried to help her stand but she couldn't. She sat up and leaned against the copier. I sat down on the floor across from her, concerned and aroused. She lifted her legs and rested her arms on her knees. She seemed unconcerned that doing so slid her skirt down to her waist and gave me a view of her pussy. She started talking. "I always liked having my picture taken. When I grew up I knew I wanted to be a model. I always felt warm and aroused after a shoot. One day I did a nude job. It was a revelation. Every time the flash went off, this surge went through me. I wasn't planning on doing any pussy shots, but I couldn't stop myself. The light flooding my pussy, the instant of heat on my skin, it put me in another world. I tried using a flash on myself at home, but nothing compares to this. I fantasized about coming here, having this huge machine pouring light up between my legs. And the heat of the glass...I just went out of control when I felt it on my asshole." I showed her how to do single copies. The glass was almost cool when I put my ass on it, feeling the tacky remnants of her juice under my balls. She had one hand on my stiff cock and one finger on the Start button. She got me wet in her mouth and slowly jacked me off, firing off a copy every second or so. When I was close to coming she slipped me into her mouth one last time, hit 50 and Start, and slid her wet hand up and down my cock as the Kodak warmed my balls. Faster and faster, and then my milky white come was spilling over her fingers onto the glass. As soon as I was done ejaculating she practically pulled me down off the machine by my cock. In a second she was up on it, grinding her pussy against the glass, smearing my come into her cunt. I punched in 250 and Start. Whew! (Rating: 10) "Soo's 29th: Christmas Is Coming!" by Soo (SooNH@aol.com) Soo goes to a crafts fair, and meets a handsome, ruggedly built whittler. They talk as she marvels at his artistic flair for wood carving. As they talk his hands work unconsciously on a piece of soft pine. Suddenly they both notice the erect cock taking shape under his knifeblade. Later she visits his workshop and gets to try out the finished piece herself, as well as the carver. She takes the wooden cock home and ties it up with some mistletoe for her Christmas party. All the guests enjoy a fuck under the mistletoe as the snow falls outside. Another winner from Soo, who rarely fails to find a way to enliven very pedestrian sex scenes with lots of scene setting. A well punctuated story. (Rating: 10) "Olympic Roommates" by AnDy (AnDy@aol.com) Egregious grammar and spelling mistakes do nothing to enhance the pleasure of reading drivel about people thrown together in Atlanta as roommates during the '96 Olympics. Sadly, very typical of AnDy, who apparently does not own, or forgets to use, a spellchecker. One hopes her attitude towards contraception is more mature. (Rating: 2) "Sisters Ng: FuckNg" by Tammi Ng (DeidruhNg@aol.com) Tammi catalogs her favorite fucks in the context of a chatty letter to her sister. I took this story to bed with my husband and we tried several of Tammi's favorites, they turned out to be ours as well. A well punctuated story. (Rating: 10) "Backrub With The Vampire" by Bckrb (Bckrb@aol.com) Bckrb combines two elements that worked well for him in the past, massage and the hot little vampire Amanda in an interesting story. Amanda stalks an Upper West Side house party. A guy walks up to her and says she looks tense. He offers her a backrub, saying he is a chiropractor. She sits on his knees and he goes to work, it feels really great. All of a sudden the lights go out. All the other guests run around, bumping into things, trying to find out what happened, while the chiropractor slips his hands around Amanda's boobs. They eventually fuck on the chair in the dark in the middle of a roomful of people. Bckrb offers the reader two endings: one in which Amanda's vampire habits take over, one where they don't. This is a cop out, but the story is well punctuated. (Rating: 8) Dilbert : The Dongbert Zone, by Deidre Ng with apologies to Scott Adams Strip 1: Dilbert sitting in his chair, legs up, talking to Dogbert, who is sitting on his knees. Panel 1: Dilbert: Thank goodness the weekend is here. I really need to unwind from my job. Panel 2: Dogbert: What's the difference? You always go to bed at 9:30. Panel 3: Dilbert: What are you talking about! My weekends are full of excitement! I stay up way later than that! Panel 4: Dogbert: That's right, I forgot that you clip your toenails. 9:40. Strip 2: Sunday night. Dilbert in bed. Panel 1: Dilbert (thinking): Damn! Another whole weekend gone by, and nothing to show for it. Panel 2: Dogbert(from side of bed): Perhaps you should wonk off. Panel 3: Dilbert: Thank you, Dr. Ruth. Panel 4: Dogbert: Just pick up the tissues, ok? They upset the cleaning lady. Strip 3: Dilbert in bed. His erection makes a tent of the sheets. Panel 1: Dilbert: Wonk off. People think I am a wonk. Panel 2: Dilbert: What if I didn't? Panel 3: Dogbert: You'd explode. And don't think about me. Panel 4: Dilbert(thinking): As if. Never live with a dog that can read your mind. Dogbert: I heard that. Strip 4: Overnight, Dilbert's pent up frustration works an amazing transformation on him, of which he is at first unaware. Dongbert looks like a Dilbert sized erection wearing glasses and a pocket protector. Panel 1: Dongbert: I couldn't sleep a wink last night. Panel 2: Stepping into bathroom. Dongbert: Maybe that's why I feel so stiff. Panel 3: (looking in mirror) Panel 4: Dongbert: Then again, maybe not. Strip 5: In Dilbert's cubicle. Panel 1: Dongbert: I got to work without attracting attention. Panel 2: Dongbert: Now if I can just avoid leaving my cubicle... Panel 3: (from over the partition): STAFF MEETING, FIVE MINUTES! Panel 4: Dongbert: Five minutes to live. Strip 6: Dongbert, sitting alone at the conference table. Panel 1: Dongbert(thinking): I'll tough it out. Maybe noone will notice. Panel 2: Wally enters. He has also been transformed. Panel 3: Dongbert: W-Wally, you're... Panel 4: Wally: Stubby and uncircumcised. Don't rub it in. Strip 7 (Sunday Strip): Dongbert and Wally have been joined at the conference table by Alice and their boss. Alice has been transformed into Cuntbert, a heavy lipped pussy with big triangular hair. The Boss has become Assbert, a puckered asshole, round cheeks and his usual vertical hair. Panel 1: Assbert: Personnel Director Catbert has agreed to answer staff questions about our health benefits. Panel 2: Wally: Does our policy cover adult circumcision? Panel 3: Catbert: Only when you convert to Judaism. Panel 4: (silence) Panel 5: Wally(whispering to Dongbert): Did you keep the yarmulke from that bar mitzvah last year? Strip 8: Panel 1: Assbert: Wally, I need to see you privately after the staff meeting is over. Wally: Does it involve stuffing my blunt but thick fuck pole into your puckered ass? Panel 2: Assbert: Yes. Wally: You'll have to utterly debase yourself, first. Panel 3: Dongbert: Ask him for a status report, with itemized deliverables. Panel 4: Wally: Just what I had in mind. Strip 9: Panel 1: Assbert: I can't stand it any more! Just do me now, Wally! Right here on the carpet. Panel 2: Assbert and Wally drop under the table. Panel 3: Cuntbert looks at Dongbert. Panel 4: Dongbert(thinking): Please, please... Strip 10: Panel 1: Catbert: Oh my gosh! A suprise visit by our esteemed CEO! Panel 2: Dogbert enters. He has also been transformed, into a fire plug with tail and glasses. Plugbert(thinking): They assume of course that this my new corporate power look. Panel 3: (Looking at Cuntbert and Dongbert) Panel 4: Plugbert(thinking): I see the fashion news travels fast in this company. Strip 11: Panel 1: Plugbert: I'm here to announce the beginning of "Corporate Honesty Week". Panel 2: Assbert(From under the table): Please, Wally, slide it between my cheeks! Panel 3: Wally(Also under the table) :Justify your expense report first. Panel 4: Plugbert: As corporate initiatives go, this one seems to be popular. Strip 12: Panel 1: Plugbert(looking at Cuntbert): As part of our Corporate Honesty Initiative, I invite you to spread your lips and piss on your esteemed CEO. Panel 2: Dongbert(looking at Cuntbert): Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Panel 3: Cuntbert(looking at Dongbert): The project schedule has been advanced three weeks. Satisfied? Panel 4: Dongbert head down on table. Plugbert(from left): This won't be forgotten, come salary reviews. Strip 13: Panel 1: Dongbert(still head down on table): I can't believe it. Passed over for the chance to piss on the boss. Panel 2: Catbert(standing on table): I take it this fantasy has not gone the way you hoped. Panel 3: Dongbert: Fantasy? You mean I'm not really a big dick? Panel 4: Catbert: I didn't say that. Strip 14 (Sunday Strip): Panel 1: Dilbert: Hey, I'm back to normal. Panel 2: Catbert: That's a relative statement. Panel 3: Dilbert: How come you never changed through all of this? Panel 4: Catbert: Your fantasy saw everyone expressed as they desired to be. Panel 5: Catbert: Since cats are already the highest form of life, we have no desire to be anything but ourselves. Panel 6: Catbert: Besides, I know better than to put psychoactive drugs in my own milk dish. Strip 15: Panel 1: Dilbert: You mean you put a drug in the drinking water that made us all transform? Catbert: It was my duty as head of Personnel. Panel 2: Dilbert: Aren't these things usually tested on rats? Catbert: Of course. Ratbert, will you come in here? Panel 3: Ratbert enters. He looks exactly like Catbert. Panel 4: Catbert: We needed to see if everyone had such lofty goals. Strip 16: Back at home. Dilbert is again sitting in his chair, talking to Dogbert. Panel 1: Dilbert: So Catbert was to blame for the whole thing. Panel 2: Dogbert: Do you feel ashamed that everyone knows your secret fantasy? Panel 3: Dilbert: No, we all agreed never to talk about it. No one will ever know. Panel 4: Dogbert leaves. Dogbert(from left): Great. Don't read alt.sex.stories for a while, will ya? Sisters Ng: Tammy's Game, by Tammy Ng Men in general, but my boyfriend in particular, have a problem. They spend way too much time playing video games. Something usually suffers as a result, for instance the laundry or your sex life. This comes about not just because of the time spent on one pursuit that could be spent on another. There is also the problem of the message of most popular video games, which seems to be violent action, endlessly repeated. Now far be it from me to talk about the weather and not do anything about it. After no small amount of rumination I have decided to advance my own proposal for a video game, on the theory that it's best to meet the opposition half way. I welcome any inquiries from software manufacturers that would like to license my design. My game has the working title "Make Me Come." Quite obviously, the game is of a sexual nature. The object, and the subject, of the game is Tammy Ng, masturbating to orgasm. The first of my innovations is that the player scores the most points by taking the _longest_ time possible to make me utter that little squeal of helpless surrender. I think this point alone will make the game successful. Women might actually go out and buy this game for their lovers, putting aside their discomfort at having their man stare at a beautiful Chinese girl for hours on end, when the benefit is that this guy will be learning how to tease the breath out of them in bed. I've surveyed several women who agree that if men could somehow be taught that sex was not a race to the finish line, the world would be a better place. In this game, it is not death, but orgasm that is inevitable, and staving off the inevitable takes on a wonderful, rewarding value. I have in mind a very unusual user interface. Most of the screen is a picture of me, alone in my apartment. Initially, I'm sitting in a big chair watching TV, fully dressed in a short skirt and top. Next to my chair is a floor lamp and a little table. The perspective of the player is from a little above the TV, looking towards me. I think the artwork should be like a charcoal sketch, evocative, but not overly concerned with realism or detail. The sounds should be my pulse, my breathing, the rustling of my clothes, the white noises of skin on skin, the scratching of nails through pubic hair, the liquid sounds of my mouth and pussy. At first I thought that the player should just be given control of my body. I would be like a puppet that the player manipulated. Click on my thigh, and hook my leg over the arm of the chair. The skirt slides upwards and my panties come into view. Click my hand and drag it downwards between my legs. The player is rewarded with a little catch in my breath and an increase in my pulse. Click on my middle finger and begin to rub the pale strip of cloth that hides my pussy and wait for my sigh. With this interface certain actions that would be hard for the player to accomplish with one point control could be handled with transitional animations (if I've been aroused enough by the players choices). Things like pulling the top over my head to bare my breasts, or slipping the panties off, and letting them drop on the floor might be handled this way. Once the player has my top off and my panties down around my ankles, it's pretty easy to figure out what to do. Don't make me pick my nose, or use the remote control as a dildo, just keep up the contact between my hands and the rest of my body in various wonderful ways. Bonus points for making me wet my fingers at certain critical points. There might be an interruption. The phone might ring. Ignore it or answer it? It might depend on how undressed I am, how deep my finger is inside me. It might be Mom, in which case you might as well reboot the machine. It might be Deidre, and I can get in two or three orgasms before she realizes that I'm not grunting at all the right places in the conversation. It might be my boyfriend and you can score double points for desperate phone sex orgasms. As a digression, all of these things have happened in real life, except that when I was talking to Deidre I was getting fucked. And once I was expecting John (my boyfriend) to call and I got myself all in a lather and the phone rang. I picked it up and it was just the right moment and I said, "Oh baby, oh fuck me o ffu-," and then I was coming really hard and very noisily, too. It was a telemarketing salesrep from Nebraska Steaks By Mail. I think it was the high point of his career. Like I said, my first design. With a few embellishments, like a bonus level of me playing with a real slippery dildo, and I'm sure it would be a million seller. But I thought about it for a while, and decided that it wasn't enough. After a while, there was just not enough challenge. The player could learn how to pace my level of excitement, how to make me luxuriate on a plateau by switching away from direct stimulation of my clitoris to something more indirect, such as massaging my breasts, or running my finger along the inside of my thigh. But I was tempting the player into a repetitive stress injury, and reinforcing the importance of the physical at the expense of a more holistic approach. So I rethought the interface. In my new design, the player does not have direct control over my actions. Instead, the player is cast in the role of the filter between my subconscious and my conscious thinking, suggesting thoughts for me to think. On the screen will be a little area that corresponds to the three or four thoughts that a bouncing around in my head at any one time. On the screen they look like short loops of animation, playing over and over again. I think this situation is pretty normal, unless I'm concentrating on something like practicing a piece of music or very aware of how electric my finger is as it glides across the throbbing head of my clit. The player is in control of a pool of thoughts that can be promoted to consciousness when one of the thoughts in the currently conscious group goes away. All the player has to do is drag a thought out of the subconscious area and drop it into the conscious area. The pool of possibilities changes as the group of conscious thoughts change. For instance I might start out in the chair with my head filled the thoughts: Change Channel Beer Commercial Laugh Track Bang, Bang, Scream >From that situation, it wouldn't be possible for the player to suggest Remove Panties as a thought, it's just too much of a leap. But Change Channel would be available, and Turn TV Off might be. So the player has to nudge me in the direction of choice by suggesting thoughts that will get me to turn the TV off, stretch, think about nice things, think about kissing, hug myself, etc. As the scene becomes more sexually charged, the players choices fill up with a mix of the images and actions that turn me on. One of the things I like about this is that it becomes possible for the player to push me over into orgasm by changing the image I'm holding in mind at the time. For instance, Sucking Him might be a loop of images showing my lips sliding down a cock that fills my mouth. Changing over to Coming In My Mouth, which shows me lapping up the white cream spilling from the head of a beautiful stiff cock and some of it smearing across my cheek, usually puts me over the edge, not the action of rubbing my clit as quickly as I can. The wonderful part is that everything the player learns about turning on the virtual Tammy is applicable to the real world woman they've been having so many problems relating to! The player learns from the inside what turns me on, and is rewarded with a peek at my very private way of pleasuring myself. He promotes the fantasy thought Kisses Along My Thigh and watches me stoke the soft skin of my out-turned leg. What blockhead could miss the message that maybe they should try this the next time they find themselves with their head between the legs of their partner. I'd love it if this became a real game. I'd play it myself. I'd like to play the version where the player has to manage the thoughts of two people, and they've both had a hard day, and it's not enough to let them get off separately, you have to get them in bed together and soothe the others tensions and get them out of their self centered moods so they can make really earth moving love to each other. Now, that would be a game that really could change the world. Sisters Ng: TNT: Tammy's Naughty Twin! by Tammy Ng Synopsis: Tammy approaches Kirby Gill, local high school genius/dork, for math help. He has a crush on the petite Chinese girl and is always ready to help her out. His price is the chance to spend time with her. Since the only place he feels truly comfortable is his garage lab, Tammy usually gets dragged out there to see whatever loony experiment Kirby has cooked up. This time its a teleporter. Unfortunately, like the rest of Kirby's inventions, it doesn't work. He tried it on an apple yesterday, and the apple didn't move. It should have disappeared and reappeared in the chamber across the room. Kirby wheedles Tammy into standing on the teleporter plate. It's this or kiss him good-bye, Tammy thinks, so she goes along. Maybe I can get just her clothes to teleport, Kirby thinks. He throws the switch and nothing appears to happen to Tammy, until a second Tammy walks out of the reception chamber holding an apple! They soon decide that Kirby has created a duplicator by mistake. Kirby is overjoyed - two Tammys! The two Tammys put their heads together, excitedly scheming how to take advantage of the situation. Suddenly the duplicate apple vanishes in a spectacular explosion. Apparently the duplicates last for only twenty four hours. Kirby suggests that the duplicate Tammy stay with him until she disappears, a suggestion she finds quite distasteful. What to do? The two Tammys eye each other distrustfuly, they know each other too well to know any good will come of this. Tammy decides to risk taking her new twin home with her. They argue outside the Ng home, and the duplicate makes it clear that she plans on enjoying her alloted time. After all, she doesn't have to worry about any consequences. Kiss your virginity goodbye, she tells her duplicate. Tammy tells the twin to wait outside til everyone inside has gone to bed, then she'll sneak her in. While she's waiting, the boyfriend of Tammy's older sister Deidre drives up. Tammy 2 decides to seduce him. He thinks its just playful Tammy, the kid sister. Suprise, suprise. The resulting mayhem gets both Tammy and Deidre grounded. After everything quiets down again, Tammy 1 sneaks Tammy 2 into the house and into the bedroom she shares with Deidre. Where will she sleep? They both insist on taking the bed. In bed T2 describes her antics with dd's boyfriend. Both Tammys get worked up over it, T1 out of envy and horniness, T2 out of interrupted lust. T2 suggests a way for them to relieve their tensions. "Go fuck yourself!" says T1. "Exactly what I had in mind," says T2. T1 wakes up late for school the next day, and alone in the bed. Where is her double? Her mothers comment, I thought you already left for school, is an ominous warning of what lies in store for her. T1 grapples throughout the day with the wreckage of the situations T2 creates. They play hide and seek, or is it seek and destroy, through the halls of the high school. For T2, every situation is the opportunity for some salacious behavior, for T1, more evidence that her reputation will never be the same. After school, Mama Ng catches T2 and Deidre and drags them home. Papa Ng catches T1 and drags her home, too. T2 frets and cries that her existence has been wasted because she will disappear soon, and as unbelievable as it may seem, she has not succeeded in losing her virginity. But what about Kirby? If she stepped onto the duplicator plate just before vanishing, she would have another day to live! It would even be worth doing anything Kirby asked, just for the chance. She sneaks out to Kirby's house. T1 is frantic. She's searched the house from top to bottom and can't find T2. Where could she be? Putting herself in T2's position she realises where T2 went. Now she tries to sneak out but is caught by dd. Tearfully, she tells dd whats been going on. She convinces her by showing her the duplicate clothing from the day before. They have to stop T2 before its too late. At Kirby's house, T2 turns up the heat with the nerdy genius. They go out to the garage for more privacy. The minutes are slipping away, and Kirby, overcome by the chance to fulfill his dreams with T2, is having trouble getting out of his pants. T1 and dd arrive and catch a nearly naked T2 and Kirby. A battle royal ensues, with all of Kirby's weird gadgets being used by the girls to attack and defend. Kirby cowers in the corner, still trying to grab the naked T2. T2 inches closer and closer to the activated duplicator. As her last seconds slip away she lunges desperately for the plate. With her last act she laughs triumphantly and throws the switch to make a new Tammy, and then she disappears like the apple did. Tammy and dd rush to the receiving chamber as Kirby emerges from the wreckage of his lab. Did T2 succeed? Kirby comes up behind them as they look bewilderedly at the empty chamber. He coughs and tells them that the duplicator plate wasn't hooked up to the receiving chamber, for debugging puposes he had reconnected the scanning circuitry to his PC. They rush to the desk that holds the computer. Sure enough there is the naked T2, trapped in Kirby's screen saver. Tammy and dd leave Kirby staring at the screen, probably for the next twenty four hours, and head home. Chapter 1 - An Apple A Day I should never have gone to Kirby for math help. Sure he's a genius and all, but somehow, something always goes wrong when I'm in the same room as he is. Tammy Ng and Backrub, Erotic Investigators in Hot on the Trail: Who in the World is Celeste802? by Backrub and Tammy Ng November 27. It was a quiet night. Too quiet. Well, maybe not so quiet. There was the sound of Tammy's hand sliding up and down my handsomest feature, oiled and glistening. "Backrub, why do these backrubs always turn into ass rubs and then front rubs?" "It helps me forget." "Forget what?" "I've forgotten." I haven't forgotten. It's a woman, of course. The hardest thing to forget. I peered into the screen of my computer while Tammy continued to study anatomy, up close and personal. She paused to slide my cock back and forth over her breasts. "Of course, I've got it!" She paled. "Herpes?" "No, the solution to the case we've been working on." "Thank goodness." Her hand started moving again. I shivered. "Well?" "Well, what?" "Aren't you going to tell me?" "Tell you what?" "The solution to the case!?" "Sure. First, here's a tissue, there's still a little spot on your cheek." "Thanks." "Here's what happened. Professor Plum used his lead pipe on Miss Scarlet in the Conservatory, then whacked Mrs. White with his candlestick in the Billiard Room. Meanwhile, Colonel Mustard was shooting his pistol into Mr. Green in the Ballroom. That left..." "Mrs. Peacock!" "... alone with the aptly named Mr. Peacock in the Library." "Amazing. To think she offed her own husband." "Somewhat unusual in our sort of cases." "I'll say. How did you think of the solution?" "It just came to me." I shivered again. Our pleasant wrap-up of another successful case was interrupted by a knock on the door. Tammy jumped up from between my legs, licking her fingers as she approached the door. "Who could that be at this hour?" "This month's rent. Let the mystery guest in, why don't you?" Tammy opened the door. The swinging door revealed a primly dressed woman, a woman whose neat appearance contrasted strongly with the stark fear on her face. She staggered into our little office and collapsed into one of the leather covered chairs facing my desk. "You're a lady with a problem. One you don't know how to solve." She looked suddenly relieved. "How did you know?" "That's the only kind of woman that walks through my door." Except for one, long ago. Tammy sat down demurely in the other chair, having quickly rebuttoned the front of her blouse. I continued to steal glances at her legs as I spoke with our new guest. "What's your name, dear?" Tammy was about to offer her a tissue, then thought better of it. "Celeste801." "That's kind of an unusual name..." "I come from a large family." "Oh." "And what seems to be the problem?" I wanted it out in the open right from the start, but didn't want to bother unzipping again. "I've been parodied!" "This is serious. Tammy, start taking all this down." Tammy dropped to the carpet between Celeste's legs. "Of course it is, how can I show my face on a.s.s. again?" "Did you say how can you face your ass again? Have you tried turning around and looking in a mirror?" "No, not my own ass, a.s.s., alt.sex.stories. The Usenet newsgroup devoted to wannafuck messages and spam. Occasionally it becomes cluttered with erotic stories that interfere with the enjoyment of the normal postings. I try to give some guidance to the readership of the group by telling them what is worthwhile reading. I've toiled long hard hours, at least my husband is long and hard, sweating over my reviews. Sometimes I have to read and reread these stories to see whether their content deserves reporting to my devoted following. Just a little to the left, dear. I try to be fair and objective. But..." "It's the kind of business where you tend to make enemies." "Yes. The sloppy punctuators, the grammatically incorrect, the fetishists. I suppose I'm really a crusader at heart." "Didn't you expect this someday?" "Yes, and I tried to protect myself. I laced my reviews with gentle humor and encouragement. Apparently it wasn't enough." "So, let's see this parody." She handed me a two-page printout and Tammy walked over, crawled into my lap, curled up in my arms and we began reading together. Tammy ran her fingers along my arm and I ran my open palm up and down her always-fashionable- in-New-York black tight-encased thighs. With Tammy's skirts, there's always lots of thigh to caress. She paused, turned her head and kissed me on the cheek, nuzzled her nose against my beard and then continued reading along with me. I continued stroking my favorite thighs. Tammy snickered, then broke into a full laugh. I shook with laughter beneath her causing my cock to rub against her ass. She leaned into me a bit closer and continued reading as my hand began to slide up her short skirt. My thumb reached her... "Ahem!" "Oh, sorry. So just what's the problem here? What's wrong with parody? Who would care about Regis Philbin if Letterman wasn't constantly showing him up to be such a dork? People make fun of celebrities all the time and they 'cry all the way to the bank." "Hugh Grant!" "Gulp!", said Tammy. "William Shatner." "Oprah Winfrey." "Arnold Schwartzenegger." "You spelled that incorrectly, dear," chimed Celeste. "But whoever it is, is funnier than I am!" "Yeah, well whoever this is is funnier than we are, too. Hell, this is funnier than Saturday Night Live has been since at least 1985." "That's not saying all that much," Tammy noted. "What really gets me is that I have no idea who this is. I see myself as a mother confessor to my writers and I have no certain idea of who this is. I'm the curious type and I think it's someone I know from my writers or readers. Considering how well written this parody is and the generally poor quality of writing talent on a.s.s., I think it can only be one of two people: SooNH, or Deidre Ng." "My sister! My sister writes erotica on the internet! My sister writes better than I do!" I'd always wondered why, when we visited dd's apartment in Brooklyn the computer chair always had a damp spot and smelled like some one had been consumer testing vibrators on it. "So, this parody writer goes under the name 'Celeste802.' We'll find her, or him, or whatever..." Celeste unhooked her legs from the arms of the chair She straightened her skirt and stuffed her panties into her pocketbook. "Here's my number. Please contact me when you solve the case. I know you can help me. Oh, I'm so glad I came, here!" We walked down the street from our office to the Old Towne Tavern for dinner, some beers and to think the case through. After we settled down I excused myself and headed off to splash some water on my face. As I walked down the narrow back corridor my way was blocked by a young woman: 5'6", thin but very athletic, short dark hair, full lips and very strong legs made very visible by a tight, mid-thigh cotton dress. But it was her eyes that grabbed me, literally. I couldn't avert my eyes for a minute. She locked onto me and walked forward. I wondered if this is what deer felt like when confronted by headlights. She grabbed me by the front of my shirt and guided me into a walk-in cloak room filled with winter coats. In the back she pushed me against the wall, undid my pants, wrapped her fingers around my cock and stroked until I was hard, never letting her eyes leave mine. She rose and kissed me, hard and passionately. I could feel a need in her as she pressed against me. Then she lifted her dress to reveal that she was not wearing panties. She crawled up and over me until she could impale herself on my cock. My legs locked and she began fucking me, grinding herself against me, sliding up and down my pole, licking and nibbling my neck and pulsing with growing pleasure. I held her ass in my hands and rubbed it as we moved her up and down my cock and her pelvis ground itself hard against me. Her tongue licked my neck and I felt a slight pinch. Suddenly I felt as if I was being fucked twice. She started to come just as I heard... "Hey!!! Get your undead fangs out of my man!" Tammy was standing beside us pushing a cheap crucifix into the mystery woman's face. The mystery woman cursed, mumbled something about the East Side, dismounted from me and walked off in a huff. "Will you pleeze stop thinking with your dick all the goddam time? That was a vampire who was about to turn you into her early dinner!" "I'm not sure that..." "Look, I know that almost nothing in 'New York' magazine is true, but the rumors and gossip are important to our work. Didn't you read the "Vampire Hangouts Between 14th and 34th Streets" article I left in your inbox?" "Um, no." "Sometimes you are hopeless." Then she paused and a familiar mischievous grin came across her face. "She didn't let you come, did she?" "Well, you...." I was interrupted by Tammy dropping to a squat in front of me, her skirt now riding all the way up her thighs. She took my cock and began sucking it. "Now, who's cock is this?" she asked as she stroked it and looked up at me. "Yours..." She knows me far too well for this, or me, to last very long. "And who has the only pussy and mouth this cock is allowed in unless it's absolutely necessary for work?" "You do..." I was starting to tighten and shiver. "And whose tongue are you going to come on right now..." She looked up at me, her blouse open, her braless breasts exposed, her tongue flat and wide and stretched out. She ran it under the head of my cock and she stroked me. I contorted in pleasure, snapped my head back and forced myself to look as I spurted onto her sweet tongue and into her mouth. She immediately engulfed my rod, slurping loudly right through my orgasm and after shocks. Afterward she rose, held me close, and kissed me so I could taste my own saltiness. "By the way, you never seemed religious. Where'd you get the crucifix?" "How soon they forget...don't you remember playing 'Catholic School Girl' the other night?" I'd forgotten the details so we walked downtown to Tammy's apartment, she changed into a plaid skirt and white shirt and we spent the evening jogging my memory. November 28. We spent the day calling some old contacts and booking travel arrangements. After dinner we took the subway to Park Slope to pay an unannounced visit to Tammy's older sister, Deidre Ng. Tammy had been distracted all day. She looked the way I do when I know I have to go out and put a bullet in someone I know. Tammy was concerned that there was a part of her sister's life she hadn't known about. Maybe there was a reason she was being so secretive, other than being some oversexed intellectual. As we made our way up the three flights to dd's Tammy still had the determined look in her eyes. In one fluid motion she slid her key into the first lock, then into the second, then the third and the door opened. A cat came running toward us, Tammy glared at it and the feline made a 90 degree turn off behind a couch. I expected there was some history there. Tammy gave me a look that said, "Stay here," so I took off my battered trench coat and took a seat in dd's kitchen as she moved toward dd's closed bedroom door. She knew her business and her sister so I sat back to listen. I heard the door open but not slam shut again. I checked out the scotch sitting in a shelf in the kitchen and kept an ear open. "Hey!!!" "Well, well, well..." "Don't you believe...in calling, or knocking..or making a reservation?!" "Caught in flagrante delicious, eh dd?" "Would...you...please...leave..." "Not until I've asked you a few questions, dear sister." "I can't concentrate...when you're standing there...watching us..." "Oh, you mean you can't...cummmm all over your boyfriend's dick, riding it like that, when someone's watching? Hey, studly, I'll bet you don't have any problem staying hard at the thought of my watching, do you, big boy. Bet you'd like me to join in. Dream on hardstuff, but you'd like it even better from my perspective. If dd were facing you instead of me you could see her rubbing her clit while she rides your, actually very nice-looking, cock." "Tammy, of all the creepy things...you've..." "So, you've been writing nasty stories for alt.sex.stories?" "Actually, it's a bit more than that...I've been... publishing...our letters to each other." dd's voice sounded like Tammy better finish the interrogation soon. "You published our letters!? About first blowjobs? About my seducing that cute guy, finding out he was a virgin and then sucking him in the school darkroom?!" "Ye-e-e-s...could you please leave now and yell at me later? I really want to cum now." "Not so fast Little Miss Cumstories, what about Celeste802? Who is it?" "How should I...know? They only...published that one take-off on 'Celestial Reviews'...and..." "And what! Do I have your permission to search you hard disk?" "I don't care! Would you just get the hell out of here so I can...finish..." "Keep her for another fifteen minutes, studcakes. She likes being eaten about five minutes after she comes." Tammy reappeared in the kitchen. "Tough job, Tammy. Can I smell your fingers?" But we still had work to do. We moved to the living room and with Deidre and her squeeze in the background sounding like guests on Rikki Lake's "Couples Who Make Way Too Much Noise During Sex" show, we searched dd's hard drive. Celestial Reviews, the one Celeste802 piece, but nothing else that matched. Tammy slid a disk into the drive and copied everything containing her name and then we left. Later, back at my place we settled down to a couple of scotches and hard copy of dd's collected works. This led to my giving Tammy a backrub, which led to an assrub, which led to a clit rub, which led to the next morning. Saturday, November 30. The next stop in our search for this electronic phantom. The five-hour ride into New England was relatively uneventful. An hour of driving. Then Tammy was squirming in her seat. I grabbed the wheel while she pulled off her tights and panties and slid a pillow under her ass. I oiled my fingers and slowly massaged her pussy lips as she drove. Her right foot on the accelerator, left leg bent and spread with her bare foot resting on the seat, I rubbed and fingered her pussy with one hand and rubbed her bare thighs with my other. Unbuttoning her blouse, I added tonguing her nipples until she got close and I wanted to be able to watch her come. I could feel her thighs starting to pulse and shiver, neuromuscular conflict between her impending loss of control and her maintaining control of the nerve function between six or seven brain cells in the rational and visual parts of her cortex and the muscles controlling her foot on the accelerator, or if the need arose, the brake. She kept her eyes on the road but kept stealing fleeting glances at me, like a tease, knowing I wanted the eye contact. She bit her lip as I quickened my rubbing her clit, pulsed her back and came, squirming against the seat and pressing her wet pussy against my large soft hand. I moved closer to her, kissed her bare shoulder and continued rubbing her bare thighs for many minutes longer. She reached into my lap, unzipped me and wrapped my favorite fingers around my cock. I glanced at the clock and reached for the FM radio buttons when the meaning of Saturday 1:00 P.M. sunk in. I had an idea. The familiar voices filled the car. "Hello and welcome to 'Car Talk.' We're Click and Clack, the Tappett Brothers, known to the IRS and local teamsters as Tom and Ray Magliozzi. We're here to answer your questions about cars, car maintenance, hair sprays and the Answer to Life, the Universe and Everything. Before establishing that my brother Tommy doesn't remember last week's 'Puzzler,' let's get right to the phones." As the NPR philosopher-mechanics of the air began not answering their first caller's question, I rummaged around in Tammy's pack for the cell phone. I dialed the number from memory. That's the thing about growing up in the sixties, smoking pounds of pot, serving an intelligence agency (sic) for six years and then coming back to the States. I can't remember which drawer I keep my socks in but I remember the call-in number for the NPR station in Boston. "Hello, you're on Car Talk." "Hi, this is...um..her, what the hell, Backrub from New York. Actually, we're on the Mass Pike right now heading east." "Backrub from New York? Do you know Shiatsu from San Francisco?" As the Brothers Magliozzi cracked up I began to wonder whether this was such a good idea. "So, what's your question, 'Rub?" "Let's say you're driving east on the Mass 'pike approaching Amherst, and you're with 'someone special' and you're in a 1974 Saab 99, which is quite comfy..." "The fuel injected model?" "No carbureted." "Good, the fuel injected model that year was horrible." "Anyway, the special someone thinks its a comfy car but also wants to find someplace where you can, er, be alone, if you know what I mean. Anyplace in the area you would suggest?" "Whoa! This is a family show, even though the family may be the Simpsons! You're going to ruin our image with a question like that." "That's not possible Tommy," laughed Ray. "OK, just to get you out of here and us out of potential trouble with the FCC...is there still an FCC or did Newt defund them also? We haven't gotten any threatening letters from them lately and..." "Tommy! Don't rant! What my doddering brother is trying to say is: Pull into any parking lot at UMass, they couldn't care less what you do. But don't say we sent you! And don't ride like my brother!" (Both laugh loudly, bang on countertops) Tammy swerved to make the exit ramp and within another ten minutes we were parked under trees in a far corner of a huge lot at the above-referenced campus. I was sitting in the back seat. Tammy was straddling me, kissing me over and over again softly and sweetly, but certainly not chastely. She held my cock in her hand and gently squeezed and rubbed it as she slid the head of my cock back and forth over her pussy lips. Inserting no more than the very tip, she used the silky soft but firm head to massage her lips and clit. I could feel wetness and my cockhead getting moist. She slid herself up and down my cock and then, without warning, slid me inside in one smooth motion. We both gasped and kissed deeply. I held her ass in my hands as we fucked steadily grinding ourselves against each other. I slid a finger into her ass and she called out. She whispered into my ear, asking me to empty my balls into her. She whimpered, said my name over and over again and came hard against me. I pushed up into her, held her very tight and came, looking into her eyes and tasting her lips. We pulled into the long gravel road leading to the somewhat rustic house at around 3 P.M. The red Miata and the Range Rover parked in front suggested that the woman we sought was home. Before announcing ourselves, we decided to check the place out a bit. We didn't notice anyone inside as we peered into windows. A garden in back, winding down for the winter. A Nordic Track and some other exercise equipment in a side room. Nice place. Lots of books strewn about and lots of bookshelves. Well read. We quietly let ourselves into the back and listened for people and sounds as we crept or skulked into the home of SooNH. As we walked down a wood floor corridor we heard the clicking of keys and a woman's heavy breathing. Tammy moved ahead slowly and then stopped, motioning me ahead slowly. As we peered into the room we could see facing half away from us a striking blond woman with long hair writing distractedly at a Mac, her body twitching as she tried to write. Kneeling between her legs was a man of about 40, sucking her pussy with quite some enthusiasm. She appeared to be torn between giving it up to his ministrations, and dedication to whatever she was writing. "Robert, I love it, but I need to get this out tonight before the guests arrive." "Mmmmfph!" "I know it tastes good, but I can't write and..." Tammy backed up against me and I slid a hand down and up her skirt. She whispered, "You are bad!" but her own had come behind her and began rubbing me from outside. I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans to give her something to keep her hands busy. I began to rub my cock against her bare ass, just where she held it. Soo's self control was stronger than ours. She grabbed her lover by the hair, whispered something to him and he stopped and rose, looking dejected and very horny. He started to leave and we beat a hasty retreat out the back door, also having been deprived of release. We watched him leave in the Rover and waited five minutes before ringing the bell. Soo answered after a minute, dressed in a beautiful robe that looked like a Navaho blanket. We introduced ourselves and she led us into the living room. On the coffee table I spotted several volumes from the "Beautiful Cooking" series and printed copies of several of Celeste801's reviews, and a copy of Celeste802's parody, with handwritten notes... "So, what do you know about this 'Celeste802' character?" "Just what I read on a.s.s." "Are you going to make that lame joke twice in the same story?" Tammy asked, glaring at me. I let my partner/lover's remark sit and went on. "But right here you have all of Celeste801's reviews, a copy of the parody, and your own handwritten notes!" "Look I value my privacy and...how did you even locate me?" "There are only three red Miatas registered in the entire state, and two of them belong to accountants. Anyway, we're pretty sure you know more than what you're telling us!" Before Soo could respond, Tammy had whipped out her Home Shopping Network leather cuffs, grabbed Soo's wrists and slapped them on with Velcro (tm). We both grabbed her and slid her down on her stomach on the floor. Before she knew what was happening, her wrists were lashed to her heavy oak coffee table. We each grabbed a very shapely ankle and applied the other pair of late-night-mail-order bondage accessories, had her legs spread-eagled and tied to a chair and her sofa. We pulled off her robe and she was...delightful. I made a mental note to reread all of her stories two or three times when we got back to New York. The sight of her twitch and strain against her bonds when I slapped her ass made a big dent in my professional demeanor. "So you won't talk, will you? We'll see about that!" "Is he for real?" Soo asked Tammy. "Most of the time." I slapped her again, and she twitched again. I spanked her repeatedly and I noticed that she was starting to grind herself against the floor. Tammy, ever observant, noted,"You know, babe, this only works if the person does not want to be spanked." "Oh yeah, well take that (slap!) and that (slap! slap!)" Soo was starting to breathe like someone who had been getting her pussy licked thoroughly fifteen minutes ago, didn't get off and now had some nut spanking her very nice ass. Tammy, deciding to take a different tack, sat on the floor in front of Soo, grabbed her head and drew her pussy up against and under Soo's face. From the look on Tammy's face this wasn't going exactly as I had planned. I reached underneath Soo and began fingering her pussy and ass. "OK, so, we'll get you very high and we won't let you come!" Have you ever seen a woman laugh when she has another woman's pussy in her mouth? Well it was like that. Didn't do much for my professional credibility. I tried to remind myself of my goals as Soo's hips made movements that I don't ordinarily associate with stopping fingering a woman's pussy and ass. Soo ground her pussy against my hand and squirmed from my finger sliding deep into her tight, and very very nice ass. The muscles in her back stood taut and head shook as she ate Tammy. She pulled against her bonds and I wished I had another hand to take out my cock. I adore the sound of a woman coming with a full mouth, in this case, full of Tammy. Soo may have been limited to muffled cries, but Tammy was not nearly so reserved, looking into my eyes across Soo as she shivered and came. "Nnnnhhhh!" said Sooo. Funny, I always thought it referred to New Hampshire. On our way out we passed a group of people coming up the path, apparently arriving for the party Soo had mentioned to her friend. A cop, a bearded guy in a flannel shirt, jeans and work boots carrying a large wooden dildo, a tense-looking housewife, two college kids, and a beautiful bronze woman from the Caribbean who touched Tammy and called her 'darlin' as we passed. "The Village People for the '90's?" asked Tammy as we slid back into the car. Sunday, December 1. We didn't wake up until 8 A.M. and didn't get out of bed until 9:30 A.M. Use your imagination. A beautiful day for a drive out to Long Island. Back to the small North Shore village I used to live in. Before Tammy Ng, before cheap gin and expensive trouble. We passed the old 1895 grey house I used to live in, the back yard with swaying trees where I used to sit and think through quiet cases, sipping 18-year-old single malt scotch. The place where everything used to be simple, before the changes. We parked in front of the familiar old grocery store, a storefront whose windows held posters extolling the direct correlation between drinking Budweiser and attracting women with large breasts, the lunch specials and Ben & Jerry's. Inside, the grizzled old man behind the counter looked up from the sandwich he was slowly wrapping for the only customer in the store. His eyes shone with a combination of surprise and disapproval. "Backrub, I don't know whether to shoot you or hug you." "You got a piece?" "Not as nice as the one you got next to you." "Then maybe you better hug me Mac." The old man came around the counter as the customer activated a set of jingle bells on the door as he left. I didn't even see the left hook coming. I saw Tammy start to move and then stop. "Maybe I don't have a gun, but I still got my fists!" "Hey! What'd you do that for!" I mumbled, rubbing my jaw. "You may have saved my son, but you still sent my nephew up the river!" "Your nephew, Mac, was a con artist who bilked elderly couples and I was a cop at the time. They don't mix. Someone had to take the fall. He deserved the seven years he got." "Well, it ain't fair. He's still got two years in stir and he can't even write books to make money, like most normal white collar crim'nals." "Look, Mac, that's ancient history, we're here to see Timmy. I need his help on a case and he owes me for the 'Toys 'R Us" caper." "Who's the dame with the nice gams?" "Tammy Ng, Bobby MacMillan. Mac, Tammy." "Ditch him, babe. He's a loser who's going to end up face down in an viaduct with a bullet between his eyes." "Viaduct?" asked Tammy. "Why not a chicken?" "Backrub's been ask'in for it his entire life." "And most of the morning." "Oh, one of them smartass modern dames. I'll bet she likes to be on top, too." "Oh, Backrub, you told him about me." "Mac, can we can the classy repartee and see Timmy?" "Yeah, yeah, he's around back and upstairs, right where you left him last time. Oh, and you still take hot sauce on the ham-egg-cheese sammich?" "Yeah, Mac." Timmy wasn't exactly 'right where I'd left him.' When I'd last seen Timmy MacMillan the Harvard Ph.D. cum Deadhead druggie had gone relatively straight. Instead of spending his time traveling, operating a home drug lab and maintaining a taste for the illicit, he'd put his energies into computers and had started his own small software and virtual reality R&D firm, as well as maintaining his own internet server, jerry.com. We walked into a large room that had more hardware than I'd ever seen in one place. A mini trade show with servers, PC's, Macs, printers and stereo equipment. The Grateful Dead were still flowing out of the speakers, and Timmy was still wearing a bandana around his head. "Backrub, long time, man. Who's the sister with the great legs?" I repeated the introductions. Tammy smiled demurely. Timmy looked her up and down. "Timmy, we need your help on a case. We're looking for someone on the internet. Celeste802." "The phantom satirist on a.s.s. Far out." "You know about this?" "Sure, not much happens on the sex-related functions of the internet that I don't know about. Since you saw me last, I've created my own little empire. I started up alt.binaries.pictures.erotic.lassie, alt.sex.bigtits, alt.binaries.sounds.peeing, the Peeper's web page, the Flemish Erotica CD's, all kinds of stuff. Big bucks selling CD's and charging people for downloads. Whoever Celeste802 is, she has class. I could make a fortune scanning her pussy and selling the files to thousands of desperate college students. By the way, sweetie, I could make you a star. Your face could launch a thousand 18- year-old hearts." "I think I already launch a 40-year-old pretty effectively every night," noted Tammy. "Timmy, if you wanted to trace someone like that, how would you do it?" "But how do you do it?" asked Tammy. Timmy grinned. "What's it worth to you?" "A couple thousand from our client." "Shit, I can make that in a good afternoon. I'll tell you what, Tammysweet. Let me do a few digital photo's of your sweet pussy and ass and we'll call it even. You'll become my girlfriend on one newsgroup, a cheerleader on another, and I'll paste Winona Ryder's face on your body..." "Timmy, I don't think we want to know about this. We still have an account with CompuServe." "The one thing I won't let you photograph is my face." After we had completed our, or at least Tammy's part of the bargain, Timmy set to work. "OK, the first thing we do," he said as he clattered away, "is hack into AOL and plant a little bitty worm in their system. That worm will send us an identifying message when Celeste802 picks up their mail. Then we'll send them a mail message as bait, sit back and wait." We sat back and waited. Six hours and two six packs later, along with Dead concert tapes covering each night from July 4 through July 20, 1973, Timmy's AOL account came to life. "You've got mail!" said America Online. Timmy moved back to the PC that had just announced mail call and opened the incoming email message. He looked it over, saved it printed it, and left AOL's software. "Backrub, come quick!" I felt Tammy take me completely into her mouth as her finger slid into my ass. "I just did." "Now we go back in the back door," said Timmy. Tammy voluteered her pocketbook sized tube of K-Y jelly and Travellers Aid Society dildo (just fill with hot water from any tap). Timmy regretfully declined. "The worm I planted just sent us an automatic message when 'Celeste802' picked up her mail. The message includes aol's internal account number for the person, so even if they're not in the member directory, I can get them internally through aol's account files." Tammy and I lost interest until Timmy paused and we saw him staring at the display. We joined him in staring at the lines from AOL's account files. "Farm out," said Timmy. "Well, I'll be," said Tammy. "Never a dull moment," I noted. "Now what do we do?" Tammy asked. "Well, Celeste801 hired us to find our who wrote the parody. She hired us because she was hurt that someone had written the parody. She'll feel better if she knows who it was, and in this case, she might even be flattered when she finds out. I think some kind of final confrontation with the perp is necessary." "Why's that?" Timmy inquired. "Because this is a detective story, and detective stories require final confrontations. Look, I think I read somewhere that this particular perp likes John LeCarre novels. Let's send this message..." I moved over to the keyboard and typed in this message: "Karla, When we first met in Delhi, I tried to convince you of the wisdom of moving to us, to the West, and the limits of your future in the East. You have now reached those limits. We have Alexandra, we know that she is your daughter by a woman of known anti-Soviet tendencies, that you arranged for her secret departure from the Soviet Union and that you conceived an elaborate plan to maintain her here, in safety, while establishing a cover for her as your agent. You have arranged for at least two murders, plus the official execution of Kirov, to cover your private scheme. All of this evidence, given your precarious position in Moscow Centre, is sufficient to ensure your liquidation by your peers in the Collegium. If that should occur, Alexandra would be left alone, an ailing refugee sent from public hospital to public hospital, or worse, sent back to Russia, where she would be subject to the full wrath of your enemies. "There is another way, which I offered you twenty years ago when we met in Delhi. Come to us, in the West, tell us what you know, and we will make you a home here. Smiley P.S., M: We know you're Celeste802. Time to 'fess up. - Backrub, P.I." "Sure know how to stretch a point, don't you? Is she going to have any idea what that is all about?" Tammy opined. "Well, let's see if it works. If she likes LeCarre she may be impressed, or just curious about how we found her out." It worked. Two hours later, an email message from Celeste802: "George, darling, Come and get me. Tonight, 9 P.M. Alone... Karla" There was also a Manhattan address and a password to give the doorman, who, I suspected, would otherwise not let me through the front door, much less into an elevator. We bid Timmy farewell, and raced back to the city. Tammy went to gather up Celeste801 at her hotel room and bring her to our office to await my return. I headed uptown. The building was on Fifth Avenue, within sight of the Metropolitan Museum. I made a note to move into the neighborhood as soon as I've cleared $3 million. The doorman let me in, smiling and I went up to the apartment, in the quiet and relatively exclusive building. She answered the door wearing a sleeveless cotton crop top and tight jeans, a small ruby heart dangling at her throat. "Ms. Ciccione, I presume?" "Hey, you're not one my high school teachers!", she smiled. "C'mon in and tell me a story." Standing seven feet behind Madonna was Sandra Bernhard, looking surprised. "You really don't look like any private eye I'd ever imagine. I mean, I would've expected a trench coat and a fedora, not jeans, a tweed jacket and Mets cap. I envisioned Humphrey Bogart or Robert Mitchum, not fuckin' Woody Allen. You look like some NYU professor." I decided that mentioning my stint as an NYU professor would not improve my standing. "There's only one thig 'Woody' about me, sister." Madonna laughed. "OK, tell me the story. How did you figure this out?" We sat down and I told them the entire tale. When I was finished, each of them had something to say. Madonna: "Pretty cool. Sounds like a fun job you've got there." Sandra: "No real private eye stuff? No climbing up buildings or shooting people or guys named 'Louie' or people knocking you over the head or tying you up or anything? You found us by using a stupid computer trick?" "Actually, I thought it was a pretty smart computer trick. If it'll make you feel any better, you can always tie me up..." Five minutes later I was lying tied, naked and spread- eagled on a large bed with silk sheets in a dark room lit only by many candles. Madonna, now in black lace bra and crotchless panties, was kneeling between my legs, rolling a condom onto my hardening cock. Looking straight up, I saw Ms. Bernhard's pussy descending onto my face. I licked, and enjoyed it. After sucking me with world class ability for several minutes, Madonna mounted me and began riding me while I continued to lave Sandra's pussy, which was grinding into my face as she got higher. I couldn't see the movements of Madonna's hips as she rode me, but it was clear from what I was feeling that she was very dedicated to working out all sorts of muscles. Sandra came, grinding herself indulgently all over my face as I licked her clit, pussy and anus. She continued rubbing until she was completely sated and she'd wiped her juices all over my face. She dismounted to kneel next to Madonna and pinch her nipples as she came. We locked onto each others' eyes as her blond curls quivered, her hips thrust and her body flushed. The sight of the muscle definition on her thighs and stomach almost made me lose control. Then, each of them was on a side of me. The condom was off and Sandra was putting oil on my cock and stroking while Madonna bit my nipples. "You know, this might not be the time to bring this up, but in 'Body of Evidence,' I really found the simple but passionate sex scene between Julianne Moore and Willem Dafoe more of a turn on that your bondage seduction stuff with him and the hot dripping wax later in the film." "So, we've got Gene Siskel in bed with us today, Sandra." With a mischievous grin and a sparkle in her eyes, Madonna reached for a nearby candle. "Oh, you're not really going to...Ouch...Oooch!" "So...you like the hot wax on your chest, don't you?" She continued drop, drop, dropping hot candle wax onto me as she covered an index finger with oil and brought it to my ass. Kids, if you see a woman with long nails on all of her fingers except for one, usually an index finger, this may be reason. Sandra's wet, fast stroking of my cock continued apace. She brought her face down to it as if to invite me to come on her, then rapidly flickered her tongue about one millionth of an inch away from the head, then looked up at me with those smoky eyes and thick pouting lips. As I stiffened and tugged at my restraints, Sandra aimed my cock over my stomach and Madonna slid her finger into my ass, sliding in and out as I came in large, warm spurts over my stomach and her nice satin sheets. "Hey, he's sorta cute when he comes!" Later, the three of us showered together, removing the wax and sweat from our bodies. I insisted on making sure that each of their pussies was really, really, clean, sliding a bar of soap over and between their pussy lips until they came, each holding each other. They reciprocated and I came on Sandra's tits. Dressed and ready to go, I stood at the door. Madonna dropped to her knees, unzipped me, took out my clean cock and sucked it hard two or three times and then smeared her lipsticked lips over each side. Hard, she put me back in my pants, rose and kissed me goodbye. I returned to my office and reported to Celeste801 and Tammy. I left out the part about the sex to avoid upsetting Tammy or suggesting to Celeste801 that I'd already been paid in the form of fringe benefits. I explained that Madonna had nothing to lose: no one would believe the story and even if they did, it would only help her image, either as a sex symbol or as a smart clever individual who can write as well as sing. Celeste801 was unlikely to crow to her students or friends, who might be impressed about the Madonna connection but outraged by the English-teacher- secret- writer-of-erotica. Celeste801 was flattered, because whether or not she happened to like Madonna, brushes with fame are exciting and a world famous sexually-charged rock star parodying your work is something of an ego boost. Tammy and I got paid and Timmy got pictures of Tammy's pussy to post on Usenet (check out alt.binaries.pictures.erotic.catholic.school.girls, under the header, "Hillary Clinton's pussy - REALLY!"), also available on CD-ROM. Deidre and Tammy had something new to argue about, SoooNH continued occasional writing of sexy, thoughtful stories, Madonna probably made another million while I wrote this, and Sandra Bernhard continued her career as a sexy smartass. AFTERWARD Evening, Sunday, December 1. After everything calmed down, Tammy and I went to dinner, then a movie, then back to my place. There are two things you need to know about the very end of this case. The first is that I live in a nice, but not luxurious building, and nice New York City apartment buildings are usually overheated. It may have been December 1 and only 42 degrees out, but the heat was cranked up and I had the bedroom window open about six inches or so. Tammy likes things toasty warm, while bear that I am, I prefer cool. It just ensures that she cuddles up close to me at night. The second thing you need to know is that Police Officer Kevin Brophy, the beat cop on my block, is an old friend who looks after me. The next day he mentioned that at about 1:15 A.M., while passing my building, he could clearly hear Tammy's voice from my fourth floor bedroom, exclaiming, "Hey, what's this lipstick doing on your cock!?" Private Eye Hint Number Seven: Always wipe everything clean of prints after an illegal entry. [Fade to theme music and credits] by Backrub (bckrub@aol.com) and Tammy Ng (deidreng@aol.com) February 4, 1996 Three versions of College Reunion English majors! Why strain yourself over Dubliners, Stephen Hero, etc.? Trace the history of the artist and the artistry of her story through three versions of the same story. Sisters Ng: College Reunion by Deidre Ng I knock on your door, shaking. Why did I think you would want to see me again, after so long? I never come to Denver, but I remember you had moved here. I cancelled my seat on the red-eye before I phoned you. This is crazy, but I can't let this chance pass by. "Hi, its me, Deidre. I'm so glad you let me come over." You open the door and let me in. Once the door is closed, I take both your hands in mine and give them a squeeze. Holding your hands I stand close and kiss you full on the lips. Maybe you're suprised that I kissed you like that right away. Maybe you're suprised at how my kiss lingers on your lips. Maybe you can feel your body waking up to the touch of our lips together. You give a little sigh and squeeze my hands in return. Your lips part. I trace them with the tip of my tongue. You must be remembering what it was like for us. You must be imagining how it will feel, when I do that to you between your legs. The warmth must be already spreading through you. Its already spreading through me. You realize that we are still standing at the door. Laughing, you pull away and invite me in to sit for coffee. Your place is big and airy, not like that place we shared. Holding my hand you lead me to the sofa. You go to the kitchen to fix it and I follow you. I don't want to leave you, now that I am here. You are filling a pot of water at the sink when I come up behind you. I hug you from behind. At first my hands circle you, holding you, letting you know how dear you are to me, even after so long. Then they creep up your chest and I take your breasts in my hands. I knew you wouldn't wear a bra for me, I was so excited when I came in and saw your breasts swinging against the fabric of your blouse, nipples pushing up against the thin cotton, dark aureoles showing through. Looking at your breasts always thrilled me. I remember the first time you undressed for me in our tiny Boston apartment, the sight of your breasts bobbing free made my throat dry. I thought my heart would never stop beating harder and harder, faster and faster. Your skin was so white, your nipples so dark in the dusky half light. Now I hold them and can't help but carress you through your blouse. My fingers seek out your nipples, how wonderfully full and stiff they are. I pinch them, pull them, twist them to make you moan and push your ass backwards into me. Somehow you pull my hands away from your breasts and continue making coffee. You bring it in to the living room on a tray that you set down on the table in front of the sofa. We sit and talk, sip our coffee. My eyes roam over you, taking in your attractive figure, your hair, your eyes, your smile. Our fingers never stop touching, playing with each other. We put down the cups. Leaning forward our lips meet again, and this time our tongues meet between them. Your hands drift up to touch my breasts the way I was touching you before, cupping and stroking me. I can feel them swell and grow warm and the sweat bloom in my armpits as you touch me, I whimper as you pull at my nipples. We embrace and I feel a great rush of emotion and passion as our breasts rub together. I'm holding you close, passionately kissing you, and your tongue probes deeply into my mouth. Its the first time again. I want to touch you with nothing between us. I start unbuttoning your blouse while you pull up at my tee shirt. Soon we are topless together on the sofa, kissing, breasts rubbing together, running our hands over each others bodies. We wet our nipples and rub them together, then let our breasts interlock, one of yours between mine, one of mine between yours as we kiss. I can feel your stiff nipple against my breastbone as our bodies press together. We take off our pants and let our clothes form a mingled pile on the floor. I want you so badly now, I hardly know what to do first. You tell me I'm your guest, please sit back and let you make me feel comfortable. You tell me how you like my tawny skin as your hands carress me. Your hands play with my long silky hair as you kiss my face. You're making me so hot inside, I feel the wet between my pussylips, my muscles clenching. I lie down and offer you my pussy. You stroke my thighs, teasing me. Then you lower your head and gently begin to kiss me. Your lips slide inwards, closer and closer to my hot, wet pussy. Your mouth hovers over it and you breathe softly on my mound, the warm, gentle passage of your moist breath over my delicate inflamed lips makes me moan in anticipation of more direct stimulus. "Please, Christine, lick my pussy, I want to feel your tongue on my clit. I'm so hot for you. You're so beautiful. I love having your pretty face between my legs. I want to push my pussy onto your face and get you all wet with my juice. I want you licking it out of me. Please, please lick me now. I need you tasting me." You smile at me. Reaching over to the coffee table, you take pinch of sugar from the bowl between your fingers. You rub your fingers together over my clit, and the grains of sugar rain down on me in a little white shower. Some fall in to the dark patch of my hair. Some scatter across the smooth skin of my thighs and fall onto the sofa. But most land inside the moist lips of my pussy. I let out a little squeal and gasp as they hit me and dissolve into my juice. "Making my sweet one even sweeter," you say. Then you bend down again and begin to lick up the juice from my pussy. So slow, so delicate. You know just what I want. You spread me wide open to tongue my clit. You bring to the brink and then pull back, take me in your mouth again, until the sweet slow circles of your tongue have me gasping for breath. You start to pull away again, but I put one hand on your beautiful hair and push you back into my pussy. I need you to lick and suck and tease me tilI I come and my thighs grab your beautiful head as I thrash from the power of my orgasm. Oh, yes oh dear oh just a little more oh thats just oh oh As the weakness of post-orgasm lassitude falls heavily on me, I pull you up to lie on me. We kiss and I can taste my juice on your lips and tongue. We rest together for a while. Now I want to taste you. You get up and let me slide down so that my head is in the middle of the couch. Now you straddle me and lower your pussy onto my face. I've waited so long for the chance to kiss you here. You tease me again, holding your pussy inches away from me while you finger yourself. Between the folds of your beautiful pussy lips your finger teases your clit, wets it strokes it, circles it. You have such long, elegant fingers. It takes my breath away to watch them slide beteen the folds of your pussy, watch your cunt devour them, see them reappear covered with your pearly juice. I so much want to do all those things to you with my tongue. I content myself with telling you how wet you're making me again, how the fragrance of your pussy is making me drunk with desire to kiss you, how watching your finger move between your lips and bathe your clit with juice is making me play with myself, my finger following yours, every circle and stroke repeated between my legs. I'm getting so hot watching you, pussy just out of reach, following your every move, I know you must be close to coming, please let me suck on you, take your clit tenderly into my mouth and flick it with my tongue so sweetly. Let me send my tongue deep into your dripping pussy, licking the juice from your tight walls. Your lips will spread over my cheeks and my nose will rub against your clit. Finally I convince you to let me suck your pussy and you lower yourself those last few inches to my face. I'm in heaven as your wet lips spread over mine and I find your throbbing pink bud with my tongue. Now its my turn to tease you, and make you wait for release. I leave my finger in place in my own pussy as I lick you and every little lick has its counterpart between my own legs. You turn around so that you can watch me finger my pussy as I suck yours, it gets you even more excited watching me pleasure myself, feeling my tongue move in synchrony with my finger. I feel your lips pulling tighter, I know your orgasm is building inside you. My own orgasm is close as well and I'm sure its obvious to you how excited I am. Your clit and mine share all the attention. You press yourself down onto my face, the wiry hair of your mound pressed against my chin. Tongue and finger circling, circling, yes you're coming please come on me I'm coming too, yes please yes Afterwards we lie together and our fingers drift across each others skin in lazy patterns. We whisper and kiss and snuggle and doze. I'll have to go soon, but not now. Sisters Ng: College Reunion by Deidre Ng I knock on your door, shaking. Why did I think you would want to see me again, after so long? I never come to Denver, but I remember you had moved here. I cancelled my seat on the red-eye before I phoned you. This is crazy, but I can't let this chance pass by. "Hi, its me, Deidre. I'm so glad you let me come over." You open the door and let me in. Once the door is closed, I take both your hands in mine and give them a squeeze. Holding your hands I stand close and kiss you full on the lips. Maybe you're suprised that I kissed you like that right away. Maybe you're suprised at how my kiss lingers on your lips. Maybe you can feel your body waking up to the touch of our lips together. You give a little sigh and squeeze my hands in return. Your lips part. I trace them with the tip of my tongue. You must be remembering what it was like for us. You must be imagining how it will feel, when I do that to you between your legs. The warmth must be already spreading through you. Its already spreading through me. You realize that we are still standing at the door. Laughing, you pull away and invite me in to sit for coffee. Your place is big and airy, not like that place we shared. Holding my hand you lead me to the sofa. You go to the kitchen to fix it and I follow you. I don't want to leave you, now that I am here. You are filling a pot of water at the sink when I come up behind you. I hug you from behind. At first my hands circle you, holding you, letting you know how dear you are to me, even after so long. Then they creep up your chest and I take your breasts in my hands. I knew you wouldn't wear a bra for me, I was so excited when I came in and saw your breasts swinging against the fabric of your blouse, nipples pushing up against the thin cotton, dark aureoles showing through. Looking at your breasts always thrilled me. I remember the first time you undressed for me in our tiny Boston apartment, the sight of your breasts bobbing free made my throat dry. I thought my heart would never stop beating harder and harder, faster and faster. Your skin was so white, your nipples so dark in the dusky half light. Now I hold them and can't help but carress you through your blouse. My fingers seek out your nipples, how wonderfully full and stiff they are. I pinch them, pull them, twist them to make you moan and push your ass backwards into me. Somehow you pull my hands away from your breasts and continue making coffee. You bring it in to the living room on a tray that you set down on the table in front of the sofa. We sit and talk, sip our coffee. My eyes roam over you, taking in your attractive figure, your hair, your eyes, your smile. Our fingers never stop touching, playing with each other. We were sharing that place, two students trying to stretch their pitiful bank accounts by sharing everything. For two years we went nonstop. We each put in relentless effort, never looking up from our studies, falling asleep exhausted every night. No vacation or social life for either of us. Until one night when I looked up from my book, thinking you had suddenly become very quiet and still. I looked up, thinking maybe you didn't feel well. You were looking at me, and little tears were gathering in your eyes and rolling away down your cheeks. "Christine, what is it? What's the matter?" I reached across our little table where we ate and studied together, taking your fingers in my hand. You started to cry and in between your sobs you told me why. "I was reading and looked up to relieve my eyes and I thought to myself that the eyedoctors say that to help your eyes after too much close up work you have to focus on something far away. But there isn't anything far away in this place, you can't even look out the window and see anything except a brick wall. And I thought that I have a very small world right now, all books and papers and study, and that of that whole small world it suddenly struck me that you were the most beautiful thing there was and then this feeling started to well up inside of me and I started crying and I have to tell you... I have to tell you that I love you so much." It was two steps from the table to the bed, and I remember taking you across that great distance with my arm around your shoulders, feeling them shake as you sobbed. In those two steps my own tears rose and overfilled my eyes, my own feelings burst free. We sat there, arm in arm, crying. I turned to hug you and my cheek pressed against yours. Our tears mingled together, making a slippery contact spread across our cheeks. I tasted salt at the corner of my mouth, I started to kiss your tears away, you started to do the same for me. Our lips met as we chased each others tears, and then they met again, and again, and would not stop. We kissed as the tears dropped away. My hands moved shaking to the buttons on your blouse. We each broke into a new round of tears as the buttons slipped from the eyeholes. I think we cried through that whole first exploration of each other, orgasms and all, until we dropped in an exhausted tangle on the bed. We put down the cups. Leaning forward our lips meet again, and this time our tongues meet between them. Your hands drift up to touch my breasts the way I was touching you before, cupping and stroking me. I can feel them swell and grow warm and the sweat bloom in my armpits as you touch me, I whimper as you pull at my nipples. We embrace and I feel a great rush of emotion and passion as our breasts rub together. I'm holding you close, passionately kissing you, and your tongue probes deeply into my mouth. Its the first time again. I want to touch you with nothing between us. I start unbuttoning your blouse while you pull up at my tee shirt. Soon we are topless together on the sofa, kissing, breasts rubbing together, running our hands over each others bodies. We wet our nipples and rub them together, then let our breasts interlock, one of yours between mine, one of mine between yours as we kiss. I can feel your stiff nipple against my breastbone as our bodies press together. We take off our pants and let our clothes form a mingled pile on the floor. I want you so badly now, I hardly know what to do first. You tell me I'm your guest, please sit back and let you make me feel comfortable. You tell me how you like my tawny skin as your hands carress me. Your hands play with my long silky hair as you kiss my face. You're making me so hot inside, I feel the wet between my pussylips, my muscles clenching. I lie down and offer you my pussy. You stroke my thighs, teasing me. Then you lower your head and gently begin to kiss me. Your lips slide inwards, closer and closer to my hot, wet pussy. Your mouth hovers over it and you breathe softly on my mound, the warm, gentle passage of your moist breath over my delicate inflamed lips makes me moan in anticipation of more direct stimulus. "Please, Christine, lick my pussy, I want to feel your tongue on my clit. I'm so hot for you. You're so beautiful. I love having your pretty face between my legs. I want to push my pussy onto your face and get you all wet with my juice. I want you licking it out of me. Please, please lick me now. I need you tasting me." You smile at me. Reaching over to the coffee table, you take pinch of sugar from the bowl between your fingers. You rub your fingers together over my clit, and the grains of sugar rain down on me in a little white shower. Some fall in to the dark patch of my hair. Some scatter across the smooth skin of my thighs and fall onto the sofa. But most land inside the moist lips of my pussy. I let out a little squeal and gasp as they hit me and dissolve into my juice. "Making my sweet one even sweeter," you say. Then you bend down again and begin to lick up the juice from my pussy. So slow, so delicate. You know just what I want. You spread me wide open to tongue my clit. You bring to the brink and then pull back, take me in your mouth again, until the sweet slow circles of your tongue have me gasping for breath. You start to pull away again, but I put one hand on your beautiful hair and push you back into my pussy. I need you to lick and suck and tease me tilI I come and my thighs grab your beautiful head as I thrash from the power of my orgasm. Oh, yes oh dear oh just a little more oh thats just oh oh As the weakness of post-orgasm lassitude falls heavily on me, I pull you up to lie on me. We kiss and I can taste my juice on your lips and tongue. We rest together for a while. Now I want to taste you. You get up and let me slide down so that my head is in the middle of the couch. Now you straddle me and lower your pussy onto my face. I've waited so long for the chance to kiss you here. You tease me again, holding your pussy inches away from me while you finger yourself. Between the folds of your beautiful pussy lips your finger teases your clit, wets it strokes it, circles it. You have such long, elegant fingers. It takes my breath away to watch them slide beteen the folds of your pussy, watch your cunt devour them, see them reappear covered with your pearly juice. I so much want to do all those things to you with my tongue. I content myself with telling you how wet you're making me again, how the fragrance of your pussy is making me drunk with desire to kiss you, how watching your finger move between your lips and bathe your clit with juice is making me play with myself, my finger following yours, every circle and stroke repeated between my legs. I'm getting so hot watching you, pussy just out of reach, following your every move, I know you must be close to coming, please let me suck on you, take your clit tenderly into my mouth and flick it with my tongue so sweetly. Let me send my tongue deep into your dripping pussy, licking the juice from your tight walls. Your lips will spread over my cheeks and my nose will rub against your clit. Finally I convince you to let me suck your pussy and you lower yourself those last few inches to my face. I'm in heaven as your wet lips spread over mine and I find your throbbing pink bud with my tongue. Now its my turn to tease you, and make you wait for release. I leave my finger in place in my own pussy as I lick you and every little lick has its counterpart between my own legs. You turn around so that you can watch me finger my pussy as I suck yours, it gets you even more excited watching me pleasure myself, feeling my tongue move in synchrony with my finger. I feel your lips pulling tighter, I know your orgasm is building inside you. My own orgasm is close as well and I'm sure its obvious to you how excited I am. Your clit and mine share all the attention. You press yourself down onto my face, the wiry hair of your mound pressed against my chin. Tongue and finger circling, circling, yes you're coming please come on me I'm coming too, yes please yes Afterwards we lie together and our fingers drift across each others skin in lazy patterns. We whisper and kiss and snuggle and doze. I'll have to go soon, but not now. Sisters Ng: College Reunion by Deidre Ng I knock on your door, shaking. Why did I think you would want to see me again, after so long? I never come to Denver, but I remember you had moved here. I cancelled my seat on the red-eye before I phoned you. This is crazy, but I can't let this chance pass by. "Hi, its me, Deidre. I'm so glad you let me come over." You open the door and let me in. Once the door is closed, I take both your hands in mine and give them a squeeze. Holding your hands I stand close and kiss you full on the lips. Maybe you're suprised that I kissed you like that right away. Maybe you're suprised at how my kiss lingers on your lips. Maybe you can feel your body waking up to the touch of our lips together. You give a little sigh and squeeze my hands in return. Your lips part. I trace them with the tip of my tongue. You must be remembering what it was like for us. You must be imagining how it will feel, when I do that to you between your legs. The warmth must be already spreading through you. Its already spreading through me. You realize that we are still standing at the door. Laughing, you pull away and invite me in to sit for coffee. Your place is big and airy, not like that place we shared. Holding my hand you lead me to the sofa. You go to the kitchen to fix the coffe you offered me and I follow you. I don't want to leave you, now that I am here. You are filling a pot of water at the sink when I come up behind you. I hug you from behind. At first my hands circle you, holding you, letting you know how dear you are to me, even after so long. Then they creep up your chest and I take your breasts in my hands. I knew you wouldn't wear a bra for me, I was so excited when I came in and saw your breasts swinging against the fabric of your blouse, nipples pushing up against the thin cotton, dark aureoles showing through. Looking at your breasts always thrilled me. I remember the first time you undressed for me in our tiny Boston apartment, the sight of your breasts bobbing free made my throat dry. I thought my heart would never stop beating harder and harder, faster and faster. Your skin was so white, your nipples so dark in the dusky half light. Now I hold them and can't help but carress you through your blouse. My fingers seek out your nipples, how wonderfully full and stiff they are. I pinch them, pull them, twist them to make you moan and push your ass backwards into me. Somehow you pull my hands away from your breasts and continue making coffee. You bring it in to the living room on a tray that you set down on the table in front of the sofa. We sit and talk, sip our coffee. My eyes roam over you, taking in your attractive figure, your hair, your eyes, your smile. Our fingers never stop touching, playing with each other. We were sharing that place, two students trying to stretch their pitiful bank accounts by sharing everything. For two years we went nonstop. We each put in relentless effort, never looking up from our studies, falling asleep exhausted every night. No vacation or social life for either of us. Until one night when I looked up from my book, thinking you had suddenly become very quiet and still. I looked up, thinking maybe you didn't feel well. You were looking at me, and little tears were gathering in your eyes and rolling away down your cheeks. "Christine, what is it? Whats the matter?" I reached across our little table where we ate and studied together, taking your fingers in my hand. You started to cry and in between your sobs you told me why. "I was reading and looked up to relieve my eyes and I thought to myself that the eyedoctors say that to help your eyes after too much close up work you have to focus on something far away. But there isn't anything far away in this place, you can't even look out the window and see anything except a brick wall. And I thought that I have a very small world right now, all books and papers and study, and that of that whole small world it suddenly struck me that you were the most beautiful thing there was and then this feeling started to well up inside of me and I started crying and I have to tell you... I have to tell you that I love you so much." It was two steps from the table to the bed, and I remember taking you across that great distance with my arm around your shoulders, feeling them shake as you sobbed. In those two steps my own tears rose and overfilled my eyes, my own feelings burst free. We sat there, arm in arm, crying. I turned to hug you and my cheek pressed against yours. Our tears mingled together, making a slippery contact spread across our cheeks. I tasted salt at the corner of my mouth, I started to kiss your tears away, you started to do the same for me. Our lips met as we chased each others tears, and then they met again, and again, and would not stop. We kissed as the tears dropped away. My hands moved shaking to the buttons on your blouse. We each broke into a new round of tears as the buttons slipped from the eyeholes. I think we cried through that whole first exploration of each other, orgasms and all, until we dropped in an exhausted tangle on the bed. We put down the cups. Leaning forward our lips meet again, and this time our tongues meet between them. Your hands drift up to touch my breasts the way I was touching you before, cupping and stroking me. I can feel them swell and grow warm and the sweat bloom in my armpits as you touch me, I whimper as you pull at my nipples. We embrace and I feel a great rush of emotion and passion as our breasts rub together. I'm holding you close, passionately kissing you, and your tongue probes deeply into my mouth. Its the first time again. I want to touch you with nothing between us. I start unbuttoning your blouse while you pull up at my tee shirt. Soon we are topless together on the sofa, kissing, breasts rubbing together, running our hands over each others bodies. We wet our nipples and rub them together, then let our breasts interlock, one of yours between mine, one of mine between yours as we kiss. I can feel your stiff nipple against my breastbone as our bodies press together. We take off our pants and let our clothes form a mingled pile on the floor. I want you so badly now, I hardly know what to do first. You tell me I'm your guest, please sit back and let you make me feel comfortable. You tell me how you like my tawny skin as your hands carress me. Your hands play with my long silky hair as you kiss my face. You're making me so hot inside, I feel the wet between my pussylips, my muscles clenching. I lie down and offer you my pussy. You stroke my thighs, teasing me. Then you lower your head and gently begin to kiss me. Your lips slide inwards, closer and closer to my hot, wet pussy. Your mouth hovers over it and you breathe softly on my mound, the warm, gentle passage of your moist breath over my delicate inflamed lips makes me moan in anticipation of more direct stimulus. "Please, Christine, lick my pussy, I want to feel your tongue on my clit. I'm so hot for you. You're so beautiful. I love having your pretty face between my legs. I want to push my pussy onto your face and get you all wet with my juice. I want you licking it out of me. Please, please lick me now. I need you tasting me." You smile at me. Reaching over to the coffee table, you take pinch of sugar from the bowl between your fingers. You rub your fingers together over my clit, and the grains of sugar rain down on me in a little white shower. Some fall in to the dark patch of my hair. Some scatter across the smooth skin of my thighs and fall onto the sofa. But most land inside the moist lips of my pussy. I let out a little squeal and gasp as they hit me and dissolve into my juice. "Making my sweet one even sweeter," you say. Then you bend down again and begin to lick up the juice from my pussy. So slow, so delicate. You know just what I want. You spread me wide open to tongue my clit. You bring me to the brink and then pull back, take me in your mouth again, until the sweet slow circles of your tongue have me gasping for breath. You start to pull away again, but I put one hand on your beautiful hair and push you back into my pussy. I need you to lick and suck and tease me tilI I come and my thighs grab your beautiful head as I thrash from the power of my orgasm. Oh, yes oh dear oh just a little more oh thats just oh oh As the weakness of post-orgasm lassitude falls heavily on me, I pull you up to lie on me. We kiss and I can taste my juice on your lips and tongue. We rest together for a while. Resting together, I remember how we first held each other. We untangled ourselves after a while and stretched out the stiffness in our arms and legs. You decided to order Chinese food to be delivered, an unthinkable luxury for us. We sat at opposite ends of the bed, waiting for the food to arrive. At first we just looked at each other, big smiles shining on our faces. I saw you blush. Your face got so red, it went from your cheeks to your neck to your chest between your breasts. "What's wrong?" I thought you were going to cry again. You spoke, but your voice was very small and little girlish. "Don't move or talk for a while. Please. I want to show you something." I almost said, "Yes, of course." But something in your manner made me stop. Instead I nodded, almost imperceptibly. You smiled, and blushed again, and closed your eyes. "This is my most incredible, incredibly private thing." Your hands were sliding up your belly to cover your breasts. Your nipples peeked out from between your fingers. I watched as your hands alternately flattened your breasts and pulled your nipples outwards. You licked the cleft between your index and middle finger on each hand, and caught your nipples there, making them slippery. Your head fell to one side, mouth half open. A little bead of saliva hung at the corner of your mouth. I was afraid to move, not knowing whether or not you were becoming more or less aware of my presence. I couldn't tear my eyes away from your hands and how you were massaging your breasts, but I could feel my own body reacting. My own breasts throbbed. One of my legs was falling asleep below the knee, from the position I was caught in. Finally you moved your hands reluctantly away from your breasts. You drew your knees up and let them slowly fall outwards. My mouth went dry again at the sight of your pussy, damp hair matted against the swollen mound, the dark line of your lips down the middle. You curled one hand over your head as you wet the fingers of the other. It slid down between your legs, down to the very base of your pussy. I watched your hand work the lips of your pussy apart. You let go a breath, a sigh of slow pleasure as your lips flowered outwards. Just then I wanted so much to pitch myself forwards and press my face against your soft skin. I wanted to thrust my tongue between your fingers, into the valley between your lips, until I found your clit with the tip of my tongue. I wanted your hand to rest, to stay, holding your lips apart as I delicatley dabbed at the surface of your clit. I knew I had to restrain myself. I couldn't interrupt the intimate secret you were sharing with me. My own pussy clenched, and I felt my own moisture working into my own cracks and crevices. I knew that touching myself would spoil the watching, and I had to watch, to know the full measure of the gift you were giving me. I felt that I had to follow closely every motion of your fingers. Every time they followed a fold of your skin, every time they passed up to your mouth to be wetted or dived into the tight pink depths to be wetted again, so that your juice and saliva mixed in the perfect combination for you, I had to watch and notice and remember. I remember that later that night when we made love again you used the same combination of your spit and your juice to make your fingers wet before you penetrated me with them. It made me almost faint to see your fingers come out from deep inside you, so wet I could see them glistening, before you slid them into, far into, me. At last your other hand came down from over your head, and you held yourself widespread for the fingertips of the first hand to dance and slide across the top and sides of your clit. From the way you held your lips apart, it stood out from among the folds, hood pulled back. Your back began to arch in anticipation of coming, like a bow pulled taut, ready to loose it's arrow of passion aimed straight at my heart. The movements of your fingers went from fluid circling to hurried brushing to spastic twitches. Eyes clenched shut, you started to whisper my name, over and over. "O Dee, o deedee, o deedee, deedee, deeeeee..." And you came and launched your arrow into my heart. I started to cry again, watching you come, calling my name in a private world, calling for my lips and tongue to be there, buried in your inmost place. You lay back panting. I was panting too, and finally shifted my position, leaning back against the footboard. I think I would have reciprocated right then, but the speaker buzzed from the front door, announcing our dinner. I got up shakily and threw on your bathrobe. Peeking around the door of the apartment, I exchanged money for food with the delivery boy, a few words of Chinese passing between us. You were just a few feet away, legs still splayed open, hugging yourself across your breasts and crying silently. I closed and locked the door. Coming back to the bed I sat close to you. You lifted your leg and put it across my lap. I ran my hand along the smooth skin of your thigh and let it rest over the damp hot flesh of your pussy. You reached down and knit your fingers into mine. "No man could ever understand what I just shared with you, as deeply as you do. And no woman ever will, because, I promise, you're gonna be my only girl forever and ever." Now I want to taste you. You get up and let me slide down so that my head is in the middle of the couch. Now you straddle me and lower your pussy onto my face. I've waited so long for the chance to kiss you here. You tease me again, holding your pussy inches away from me while you finger yourself. Between the folds of your beautiful pussy lips your finger teases your clit, wets it strokes it, circles it. You have such long, elegant fingers. It takes my breath away to watch them slide between the folds of your pussy, watch your cunt devour them, see them reappear covered with your pearly juice. I so much want to do all those things to you with my tongue. I content myself with telling you how wet you're making me again, how the fragrance of your pussy is making me drunk with desire to kiss you, how watching your finger move between your lips and bathe your clit with juice is making me play with myself, my finger following yours, every circle and stroke repeated between my legs. I'm getting so hot watching you, pussy just out of reach, following your every move, I know you must be close to coming, please let me suck on you, take your clit tenderly into my mouth and flick it with my tongue so sweetly. Let me send my tongue deep into your dripping pussy, licking the juice from your tight walls. Your lips will spread over my cheeks and my nose will rub against your clit. Finally I convince you to let me suck your pussy and you lower yourself those last few inches to my face. I'm in heaven as your wet lips spread over mine and I find your throbbing pink bud with my tongue. Now its my turn to tease you, and make you wait for release. I leave my finger in place in my own pussy as I lick you and every little lick has its counterpart between my own legs. You turn around so that you can watch me finger my pussy as I suck yours, it gets you even more excited watching me pleasure myself, feeling my tongue move in synchrony with my finger. I feel your lips pulling tighter, I know your orgasm is building inside you. My own orgasm is close as well and I'm sure it's obvious to you how excited I am. Your clit and mine share all the attention. You press yourself down onto my face, the wiry hair of your mound pressed against my chin. Tongue and finger circling, circling, yes you're coming please come on me I'm coming too, yes please yes Afterwards we lie together and our fingers drift across each others skin in lazy patterns. We whisper and kiss and snuggle and doze. I'll have to go soon, but not now. Sisters Ng - American As..., by Deidre Ng Last winter, during a January marked by both voluntary and involuntary shutdowns of Washington, DC, I went to a large room at 26 Federal Plaza in lower Manhattan to swear allegiance to a government that at the time was having trouble staying open for business. With about fifty other people from a broad swath around the globe, I walked in a citizen of another place and walked out an American. There were several Chinese people like myself in the group, but I was the only Canadian. We all came out waving little flags, and the friends that had come down, braving truly mountainous snowpiles, clapped and cheered and hugged us. My sister and her lover were there, and my David was there. We all hugged fiercely. I admit to letting a tear or two get squeezed out of my eyes. "Deedee, how can you get sentimental about who you pay your taxes to?" I hid my face in the crisp white cotton of David's shirt, trying not to cry on his expensive silk tie. "Thank you, Tammy, for being so understanding. Always the empathetic one." "Don't tell me you're bought in on all that chauvinistic Reagan era crap!" I was thinking about Hong Kong, and all the stories our parents had told me about the Communists that they had fled from. The people and places I had last seen in childhood, given over to a government that had no concept free speech, consent of the governed, the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. "It's not crap that you can stand in the middle of a government building and say what you like about it, and not worry about the consequences." John took Tammy's hand. "Can we like, not do this scene? I'm supposed to take these really nice pictures of you two smiling and waving those little flags and shit, so you'se can send them off to your parents with this nice note about how happy you are, and don't worry about us here in New York, etc. Let's just forget about this, and you two stand over here by the thingie on the wall..." He pointed to the Great Seal of the United States. "Yeah, like that, one on each side so you cover up the graffiti. Great." He raised his camera and started shooting. We forced our biggest smiles and held up our little flags and waved them. The tension drained away as he posed us, singly and in groups, in front of various icons of Americana. We bundled back up and went out. John took some more pictures outside Federal Plaza. Tammy and I threw snowballs at each other, and he took pictures of that, too. We walked down Broadway, past the glowering bronze statue of a bull that is one half of Wall Street's symbology, past the wonderful old Customs House, into Battery Park. Raw wind whipping across the bay, we stood for a while looking at the Statue of Liberty. John took more pictures, until threats against his life, limb and camera allowed us to retreat from the waters' edge. We descended into the Bowling Green subway station, and plotted our next moves. David and I were both in business suits, so we were going home to Brooklyn to change. Tammy had decided that she wanted ice cream, but it had to be from the Baskin Robbins near their apartment, so she was pulling a reluctant John uptown. "So where are we going to meet you for your citizenship dinner, MacDonalds?" "Fuck off, Tammy. We're going someplace nice, someplace that stands for everything that is uniquely American." "Such as?" "Chinatown." "Oh, god. Let me guess, Golden Unicorn or Peking Duck House?" "Uh, I was thinking of both, actually." Nothing is as American as excess. "You are one crazy little Chinese girl, you know that! How am I supposed to fit in my clothes if I go eat dim sum and duck with you?!" "Go work out instead of eating ice cream. Buy bigger clothes. I don't care. You're too thin, anyway." Tammy smirked. "You only think so because I'm thinner than you. OK, we'll let you have your way. But if they have to take you down in the freight elevator from the Golden Unicorn, don't say I didn't warn you." Tammy and John departed uptown, and David and I rode the number 4 train into Brooklyn. Brooklyn was completely plowed in, cars buried under mountains of snow, streetcorners made impassable by walls of snow and wide lakes of slush. We detoured up side streets to find spots where people had dug out their cars or driveways had been cleared, then doubled back, walking in the street. I closed and locked the door to our apartment. Sitting on the little bench seat by the door I pulled my boots off. David stood and peeled the rubbers off his shoes. "You know I always think you look sexy in that button- down outfit." "Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I have to take it off." He pulled me off the bench and kissed me hard on the lips. His hands pulled up the skirt behind me, then slid across my ass cheeks, pressing me against him. Kissing him on tiptoe, I could feel his erection against my belly. "I mean you look really sexy in that outfit." "So sexy you have to fuck me even before I can take it off?" "Overpoweringly sexy." "Now that I'm a citizen, don't I get a vote on the subject?" "You'll have to hold an erection to vote on that." "Planning on stuffing the ballot box, are you?" By this point he had maneuvered me onto the couch and pulled my sheer nylons and panties down around my ankles. I pulled his erection out of his pants and played with him a little in my hands. "So, you look at these starched and pressed women in their corporate suits, and you wonder what their ass looks like, eh?" I pulled his pants down and sat him on the couch. Kicking my panties off my ankle, I straddled him. His cock rubbed against the warm skin along the inside of my thigh, tickling my pubic hair. I felt butterflies of anticipation. "You can't say 'eh' any more. You're not a Canadian." "In that case I guess I'll have to use your All American flagpole and let my red hot pussy tease some white come out of those blue balls of yours." "Or you could just fuck me." "Isn't that what I said?" I took some spit and slicked the head of his cock. He slid easily into the wet folds of my cunt. I pressed myself downwards, taking him into me greedily. He felt huge inside me. As I came down with him fully inside I whimpered a little from the pleasure of feeling so filled, so tight around his stiffness. We looked into each other's eyes and kissed. We rocked a little back and forth, fully engaged. I could feel his balls against my skin. His hands opened my jacket and sought out my nipples through my blouse and bra. They were obvious, even through all the layers. His fingers pinched at them, and my hips twitched in response. He pulled the shirt tails of my blouse out and pushed the fabric up, not bothering to unbutton it. When he reached my bra he slipped his fingers under the straps and pushed the cups up and off my breasts, not bothering to unhook the clasp. I suddenly felt very erotic. I was disheveled, half undressed, exposed. My dark wool skirt covered my legs demurely, and at the same time I was pantyless, legs spread wide, filled by the presence of his cock. My hair was still tightly braided and my glasses were starting to slide down my nose as we kissed. His hands were warm as they cupped my breasts, even as the last snowflake melted behind my ear. I felt the need to feel him moving in and out of me. I began to raise my self up and then lower myself again onto his cock. He locked my nipples between his fingers so that when I lifted my self up, my nipples pulled between his fingers, stretching my skin taut. He pinched at the same time, and then as I came sliding back down his cock, he mashed my nipples into my breasts, pressing them inwards until I was sure he could feel my ribs. I felt a continuous electric tingle of pleasure as he exercised my breasts. I knew that as good as I was feeling, David loved getting fucked this way even more. The pressure of my whole body forcing my slippery tight pussy down around his cock was something he couldn't hold out against for long. It gave me an additional warm glow inside, every time we made love this way, knowing that he was absolutely helpless to control his reaction as I fucked him. He would come so quickly I was reminded of the eager adolescent orgasms of my high school boyfriends, how quickly they exploded in my hand or mouth or between my legs. Indeed, it was very soon that as I eased myself down he was thrusting up, meeting me halfway, freezing me in midstroke as his own need to thrust overcame him. I held myself still, trying to be the perfect receptacle, my clinging hot walls velvety smooth, ready for his final thrust deep into me and the shuddering deposit of his come inside of me. I cradled his head against my chest as his orgasm subsided. I rode him a few more times for my own pleasure, enjoying the extra slippery feeling of his cock lubricated with his come. Settling down on his shaft again, I kissed him deeply, as deep as he was inside of me. My clothes were growing uncomfortable. I shucked off the wool jacket. Temporarily, I pulled my blouse down again so that I could unbutton it. I unhooked the clasp of my bra and tossed it aside. Reaching behind me, I found the button of the skirt behind my back, undid it and unzipped the skirt. I pulled it over my head and put it on the pile with the jacket and blouse. Still holding his cock tightly inside me, I undressed David as well. He offered no complaints or resistance, seemingly too overpowered by his orgasm to have regained consciousness. "Well, now that we're both naked, sweaty and sticky, how about a nice hot shower?" He looked up at me with a bemused expression on his face. "Eh?" "No more Canadian jokes! Come on, or I'll wash by myself and make you wait." I lifted myself off him and our private parts reluctantly separated. The shower included an appropriate amount of romantic afterplay, but neither of us was up to getting serious again so soon. Besides we were meeting Tammy and John in Chinatown in just an hour and a half. I got dressed in warm corduroy pants that I could tuck into my boots. I picked my warmest angora sweater, a thick black vee neck that looked really nice with the little string of pearls that David got me for my last birthday. I was pulling it over my head when I felt him behind me, his hands tracing the edge of my bra. "Now, now, no monkey business. I've got to get finished getting dressed." He unhooked the clasp. "Hey! I mean it!" "Well, I hate to say it, but I think you're just a tad overdressed for the occasion. Take your arms out of that sweater and you'll see what I mean." I complied, and he quickly slipped the bra off of my breasts. Feeding my arms back into the sweater, he pulled it down over my body and pulled my hair free of the neck. The clinging black sweater immediately warmed my skin. My nipples rose as the angora kissed them endlessly, every time I shifted. His hands cupped my breasts again as I sighed. I leaned back against him and kissed him over my shoulder. His hands moved slowly around my breasts, sliding the lush angora over my skin. Our kiss deepened. His fingers sought my nipples through the sweater and found them, swollen and hard. "Now doesn't that feel good?" "Very good. Too good. It feels so good I want to take off the cords and drag you to bed." "Then just think about doing that after we come home from dinner. And every time I look at you across the table I'll think about it, too." It was already dark by the time we got to the Golden Unicorn. Tammy and John were upstairs, waiting for us before getting seated. Tammy still had her jacket on, saying the elevator brought in too much cold air to take it off before we arrived. We all sat down around a table for four, men and women sitting across from each other. I looked Tammy over. She was wearing black boots, black tights, a black skirt, and a white silk shell. Her shoulders and arms were bare except for the thin strap of the shell. "Brrr, I'm still frozen." Tammy shivered in her seat. Goosebumps crawled up her arms. From the dark nipples poking against the silk, it was obvious that she was not wearing a bra. "You should have worn more sensible clothing." "It was your party, so I wore party clothes." "Hey, check out those dumplings!" John's head swiveled to track a cart of delicacies being wheeled past. "Where?" Tammy was half out of her seat, leaning over the table. Her little silk shell fell away from her chest and her beautiful (even I'll admit they're beautiful) tits swung in full view. At least from my perspective they were in full view, and judging from the gasping sounds from behind me they were in full view of someone who had been trying to take a drink. "Those dumplings look great!" David was looking past Tammy at the dim sum cart. I got up. "Please, don't wait for me. I just remembered I have to make a phone call." I stalked over to the phone. First I dialed our home answering machine. "Listen mister. Don't you dare spend the evening oogling my sister. I don't care how brazen she is, there's only one pair of tits for you tonight. And there won't even be that if you keep staring at hers." I hung up and dialed his beeper number and left our phone number as the message. When I got back to the table, everyone had at least two items already, and beer, too. I sat down and Tammy gave me a little smirky smile and wiggled her fingers at me. "I took your advice and worked out instead of having ice cream." "No wonder John looks so tired." Tammy's idea of working out probably involves doing pussy squats onto John's cock. "Deedee, could you pass the mustard?" "John was up too late last night playing Wing Commander IV. I swear they should make a game called Come and Get Me, that would convince guys to pay attention to their girlfriends. It would show this guy in a dark bedroom playing by the light of the monitor, while in the background the girl lies on the bed and frigs off about a million times. I'm gonna write a story about it." David piped up, "There are adult video games in Japan. As a matter of fact..." His beeper went off. "Shit. If you'll excuse me." He got up and headed for the phone. "So, Deedee, what are you writing about nowadays?" "Well, I showed you the last chapter of Edit Angel that I finished. I think I'm going to go back to erotica for a while. I've got a few ideas that I have to get out of me." "How do you think this stuff up?" John asked from around the edge of a shrimp filled pastry. "Most writers keep a notepad next to their bed in case they wake up with an idea. Deidre just hits rewind on a video camera." John smiled. "If only there was such a thing. Think of the money we could make with a DeeDeeCam web site." "If you two are finished having fun at my expense, I'd like to try to answer John's question. I like to start with a single arresting image of a sex act and work outwards." "But how do you come up with the original idea?" "I told you, she hits rewind." I admit it. I stuck my tongue out at her. "Maybe you do, Tammy. It helps to think about sex constantly. For me, it's usually something like I'm standing in the back of a crowded elevator at work and that little bounce as the car comes to a stop at each floor makes my boobs feel funny and all of a sudden I'm speculating about the erotic possibilities of a bidet." "So, you just come upon it?" "The bidet?" When I said bidet Tammy started to blush, and then she smiled, and then she blushed some more. Her nipples became evident again through her shell. David sat down again. "Well, where were..." Tammy stood up. Her face was still red. She lifted one arm and pointed at me across the table. "I'm going to the ladies room. And you're going with me." John and David exchanged glances over the table as we stood up. Tammy stalked off and as I followed her, I heard John mutter. "Uh, oh." Tammy stood in front of the mirror, picking a strand of hair off her face. As I came in, she turned to face me. "Just because it's your party doesn't mean you can embarrass me in front of everybody!" "What are you talking about?" "You think you can tell any story you want to about me!" "You think you can come on to my boyfriend!" "You're paranoid!" "You're not wearing a bra!" I reached out and pulled the hem of the white shell up and over her breasts. "Neither are you!" She reached out and pulled at the sides of my sweater. The hem slipped out of the top of my pants. She kept pulling until my breasts were in view. But she didn't stop. She kept pulling upwards, catching me by surprise. My arms were up and the angora sweater almost above my elbows before I knew what was going on. Luckily I still had a grip on her silk top. I pulled back and away, freeing my head from the sweater at the same time as I pulled Tammy's shell over her head. We were facing each other, red faced and disheveled. Our tops were bunched and tangled on our linked forearms, neither of us wanting to let go. "Slut!" "Hypocrite!" "Let go!" "You let go!" The door opened. "SHIT!!" We both pulled and let go at the same time. The sweater and the silk top fell in a tangle between us. I reached down and desperately snagged the strap of the white shell. Tammy tried to snatch it but could only come up with the arm of the angora sweater before the door came fully open and an older Chinese woman stepped in. "Hello? Is there a line for the facilities? I - Oh my!" I was holding the shell in front of me, trying to recover some shred of dignity. Tammy had other plans. "Oh, hi, don't mind us, we're sisters!" "Yes?" She obviously didn't see how that explained shouting at each other topless in the ladies room of a dim sum house. "And my sister was showing me, you see, how the uh, skin cream I invented had, uh, faded the age spots around her nipples." It's amazing how loud you can be through gritted teeth. "I DON'T HAVE ANY AGE SPOTS ON MY NIPPLES!" "See, it works!" She reached over and pulled at my arm. "Come on Deedee, show her!" "Oh, yes please, I'd be very interested to see!" I surrendered to the surreality of the moment. I let the shell fall away from my chest, exposing my breasts again. "You see, age spots almost all gone, and just a hint of the sag that used to be there. Hard to believe that she's breastfed four children. Of course, they're still not as firm as mine, but what can you expect?" "Why, I've breastfed four children. Do you think it could help me?" In a flash the matron had lifted her blouse and unsnapped her bra. Her somewhat withered and spotty breasts slouched into view. "Of course! Why your breasts are no worse off than my sister's were six months ago! I'm sure my skin cream could help. Don't you agree, Deidre dear?" "It can help at least as much as it helped me." "What is the secret?" "My cream is a special combination of a really good hot Chinese mustard like they serve here, ginger, and ginseng from a special source. You know the Chinese pharmacy two blocks down East Broadway? They're the only ones that carry it. You just mix it together and spread it around your nipple, and as the age spots disappear, you widen the circle. You can feel it toning and tautening your skin as you work it in, and the ginseng helps your sex drive as well." "My dear I will just have to try it." "Well, you could try mixing the ingredients yourself, since I'm sure that the right mixture is a personal issue." The matron nodded and ducked into the stall behind her. Tammy looked at me and stuck out her tongue. She looked down at my angora sweater that she was holding in her arms. "Y'know, this matches the rest of my outfit." She pushed her arms into it and pulled it over her head. Taking one last look at her breasts in the mirror, she pulled it down over her chest. "Goodness gracious!" She ran her palms over her breasts. "Deidre, I would never have thought that a tight-ass like you would dare to wear this out without a bra on. This sweater is like fashion foreplay!" I knew I wouldn't get it back that evening, perhaps ever. Tammy had never broken the habit of 'borrowing' my clothes permanently. I had no choice but to slip her white silk shell over my head. I pulled it over my breasts and the rough silk pulled my nipples erect. It was a little too small on me. My breasts stretched the fabric, making them very obvious, erect nipples or not. "See, it goes with your pearls." "But not the cords." It was too short to tuck in right. I let it stay out. "Don't worry, David will think you look great anyway. Loosen up and enjoy yourself! You only become an American once, you know." We sat back down at our table. David and John had obviously sampled a good deal of dim sum while we were gone, judging by the empty plates stacked in front of Tammy's and my seats. They looked back and forth at the two of us as we sat down. I glared at David. "Not one word." "Who, me? Was I going to say something?" John spoke up. He was desperately trying to not look at my chest, but he was so embarrassed by his inability to do so that he was also avoiding my eyes, so his gaze would settle on my breasts stretching the white silk, then lift about as far as my chin then drift back downwards again. "Deidre, you should try this one, it's got nipples of a breast, I mean it's stuffed with a breasty chicken, I mean a breast of chicken." "Sure, I'll try some." I bit into the dim sum as the elevators opened and another load of winter air was released into the restaurant. I felt it run up my spine like icy fingers. I was momentarily overrun by goosebumps and my nipples, well, I'm sure you can guess what happened. A lengthening ellipsis in the conversation spread around the room as men, including John and David, stopped talking to stare at me. I swallowed and patted my lips with my napkin, and held it there, thankful for its cover, until my nipples fell and conversation resumed. "I think we should go now." We put on our coats, but didn't close them. As we got into the elevator another group pushed in with us. We shuffled to the back, but more and more people kept cramming in. I was pressed against the left wall, David and John against the back. Tammy and I had been standing next to each other, when a rather large person pushed her back. She twisted, trying to take up the least space possible, and found herself pressed up against David. Perhaps in other circumstances David wouldn't have minded being forced to endure a cramped elevator ride with a beautiful Chinese girl's breasts pressing against him. Perhaps if the sister of the beautiful Chinese girl wasn't holding one of his hands in a vise-like grip. But Tammy was obviously enjoying his predicament, and the feeling of her breasts in an angora sweater mashed against him. "So, David, are you going to come..." She gave a little shiver and a sigh, " ...see me perform at BAM? It'll be my only performance in Brooklyn this year." "Well, uh..." I squeezed his hand and cut in on the question. "We already have plans." "To come, of course, to come." He smiled weakly down at Tammy as the elevator bumped to a stop. We walked over to the Peking Duck House. It was warmer there, and the wind didn't blow in the door, and John let me wear his sensible tweed jacket. I rolled up the sleeves and buttoned the front and despite the fact that my breasts were still pushing the envelope, so to speak, I felt much more at ease. The tweed actually went well with my cords. "You look like an English professor." "Thank you, John." "One that's really proud of her tits." "Thank you, Tammy." I was beyond being baited. She could have lap danced David and I would have not reacted. We had a very nice duck dinner. Once it was clear to Tammy that I wouldn't rise to further provocation, she relented. "So, it just all of a sudden gushes out of you, does it?" John was asking me a question, but I couldn't figure out for the life of me what about. "John, just because she's older doesn't mean she thinks her incontinence is a decent subject for dinner conversation!" "I was asking about story ideas." "Oh." "Well, yes, but it's not even that hard..." "That's what she said." John glared at her and she shut up. "...As Tom Lehrer sang, 'Once correctly viewed, everything is lewd.'" "What about that couple in the corner, what's their story?" I turned around to see who he was referring to. They were an older man and a younger woman. "Easy. She used to be his secretary. They were lovers. It's over now, but they go out once a year on their 'anniversary'. After dinner they'll go to a fancy hotel and make love again, for old times' sake." "How about our waiter." "He wishes Tammy would storm angrily into the kitchen and complain that the dish she's ordered wasn't hot enough. He wants to lift her skirt and pull down her tights and rub red pepper into her ass. He'll drizzle oil borrowed from the wok man over his cock, then slide it deep into Tammy's ass. When he's done he dusts his finger with MSG and fingers her ass, so in twenty minutes she'll want more." "And the cashier?" "She gets very turned on at the thought of going to the gynecologist's. Sometimes she's left alone for a minute with her feet up in the stirrups and she secretly plays with her clit, but her fantasy is that the staff is watching her. At home she fantasizes about giving birth, the tremendous fullness between her legs as the baby is delivered. She imagines teasing herself in the delivery room and breathing and pushing and coming all at once, orgasm and birth mixing together." "That's a little weird." "You're making me come up with it on the spot." We were up to the fortune cookies. David opened his. "'Never underestimate the power of love.'" Tammy read hers. "'At heart all men are bachelors, at heart all women are mothers.'" John cracked his open. "'A golden handkerchief cannot dry your tears.'" I read my strip of paper. "'Lucky numbers: 7 17 34 23 5 11" "And?" "'You are very close to your true love.'" The dinner ended with a surprise red, white and blue flag cake with sparklers. The whole restaurant clapped and applauded and we belted out a very ragged "Star Spangled Banner". Afterward several of the staff came over and asked who my immigration lawyer was. The answer is Luciana Ostrowsky, if anyone out there needs a good Mandarin speaking immigration lawyer. The snow on Mott Street had been pounded into slush, except for the piles at the curbside. We stepped out into the night as the first flakes of a new onslaught began to fall. A city bus rolled through Columbus Circle, squishing the brown slush out from under it's tires. On the side of the bus, incongruous, was an ad for sandals. Tammy cried out and pointed. "Ha, 'Sam and Libby'! There's fodder for your erotic imagination, Deidre! What story can you make from that?" "How about the story of a cold tired Chinese girl who ate too much and wants to go home now?" "Not very erotic. You'll have to try harder." "Not tonight, dear. I have a headache." "David, sounds like you better change your plans, she's practicing her line already." David and I rode the subway home to Brooklyn. It was crowded, everyone forsaking the taxis and buses and the snow clogged streets for the underground. I looked at the faces of the men and women, wondering which I would make Sam and Libby. It bothered me that I couldn't come up with an appropriate story for the names. We got home and pulled everything off and went straight to bed. Well, almost everything. He wouldn't let me take the shell off. "No slipping your hands under the angora tonight, I'm afraid." He rubbed my breasts casually as I straddled him. "This would look nice with that wool crepe suit." "And a camisole and a bra." I reached under me. He was thick and heavy and warm in my hand. "Tammy didn't think it needed those things." "Tammy... I don't really want to talk about my sister while I make love." "Then let me say that it was inspired of you to think of changing clothes with her. I'm sure John is enjoying the angora sweater as much as I would, and I certainly enjoyed watching my favorite pair of breasts this evening. And I'm really enjoying the way your holding my cock just inside your pussylips. And..." I quieted him with a kiss that turned into a low moan as he slipped further into me. The straps had slipped off my shoulders. The only thing holding it up was the press of my breasts against the fabric. He was nibbling at my nipples through the white silk. I bit my lip and pushed back. His cock went an inch further into me. Sam and Libby, who were they? Maybe I would have worked it out that night, but for the rhythm changing just then and his teeth catching my nipple just so that I moaned and he slipped completely into me and my mind dissolved into pure feeling, the slipping of his cock in and out of my pussy's hot embrace, my heart running away as he pulled at my nipple through the silk. I should have known that night who Sam and Libby were. I didn't figure it out for almost six months. Now that I've found out, I'll let them tell you themselves. Thank you, America. I love you. "Sometimes men put women on a pedestal." "Not that we don't deserve it, though." "What is it that you stand for?" "The pursuit of happiness, but I've been known to lie down for it, too." "You have a wonderful husky laugh." "You have a wonderful twinkle in your eye." "I have a thing for strong boned, green eyed women in sandals." "You may not believe this, but I happen to like the distinguished look in a man." "Like a stovepipe hat and goatee?" "And white hair. There's something to be said for... experience." "Young lady, you make my heart beat faster. But are you holding a torch for someone?" "Oh, this old thing. Here, let me put it down for a moment." "And I'll put your tablet here next to the pedestal. Is that all right, Miss...? "Oh, it's fine. You can call me Libby, I don't think we have to be too formal. And you're...?" "Sam." "Of course. I should have guessed." "That's a beautiful shift you're wearing." "Why thank you. There's a catch in the back, you know." "There's always a catch. You mean this...? It's amazing how it all comes undone when you just take that one little pin out." "I think I'd like to sit here on the pedestal and look up at the stars." "I think I'd like to kneel here on the grass and contemplate your depths." "Your beard feels so soft on my thigh. Like the night breeze." "Just put your arms back and look up at the stars. Don't let me distract you." ... ... "Oh, Sam..." "Libby?" "It's just that I've never been kissed like that, before. Is it hard to do?" "It's not hard to do, though it makes one hard, doing it. If you take my meaning." "I've been meaning to take your meaning all night, if that's what you mean." "Might I take the pedestal? My knees are somewhat damp from the grass." "Sit back as you bid me, and I'll bestride you, and pursue my happiness and yours together." "Oh, Sam..." "Libby?" "Is it always like that with you?" "What?" "The fireworks." "You mean you saw them too? No, I think there's something special about you and me, and tonight." Sisters Ng: The Virgin Mary Maguire by Deidre Ng 10/10/97 Father McMartin looked up from his desk as the student was ushered into his office. His heart jumped a little as he recognised her. The door swung shut behind her, leaving them alone. The uniform should have made her demure, asexual. Instead it emphasised her smooth skin that showed between the high white socks and the plaid skirt that hovered at mid- thigh, her full chest stretching the starched white shirt that had one too many buttons unbuttoned. "A little early for the principal's office, isn't it Miss McGuire?" She didn't reply. She walked slowly over to the overstuffed leather chair that was placed squarely in front of Father McMartin's desk. She sat primly, spreading the pleats of her skirt before sitting down on the edge of the chair. Her hands were folded in her lap and she looked straight forward, cooly and expectantly holding the principal's stare. "Mr. Gianelli has already informed me of what happened. Delivering a science report on the female reproductive system should not be considered an opportunity for show and tell." Her demure pose defalated. She looked at the ceiling and slowly let out her breath, blowing a lock of auburn hair away from her face. She let herself settle backwards, the leather creaking. With deliberate speed, she lifted her legs and planted her shoes against the edge of the Father's desk. The carefully spread pleats slipped down her thighs. The white skin led to plain white cotton panties. She stared at the ceiling, seeming to ignore him. Her legs rested against the arms of the chair. Her hand slipped between her legs, stroking the panel of white cloth that covered her pussy. Under the pressure of her finger, the cloth slid into her crevice, darkening slightly as it absorbed her moisture. No hair at all showed around the edges of her swelling lips. Her finger pushed the cotton into her vagina, and her hips jerked a little as the taut cloth rubbed against her clitoris. Her breath caught for a moment as her finger worked inside her, then was released as she withdrew from her exploration and returned to stroking the cloth above her clit. As for Father McMartin, he could not tear himself away from the spectacle being played out in front of him. He sat woodenly, the pulse quick at his temple. She was near to climaxing. Her finger darted in and out, moving to the rhythm of her short gasps of air. Her back arched as the tension built in her body. Suddenly she took a great gasp of air and sat straight up. "Why do you call them lay teachers if you're not supposed to lay them? Not that I would've, of course. I am a virgin and have no intention of changing." Her finger was pointed directly at Father McMartin, whose vision of the hot space between her thighs had been replaced by a view of her heaving breasts as she leaned forward. "Miss McGuire, you're behavior is reprehensible. Your punishment will be correspondingly severe. I believe corporal punishment is called for." She let her jaw drop as she widened her eyes. "You don't mean..." But before she finished the sentence she jumped up out of the chair, twirled around and bent over at the waist. Hands at her hips, she flipped the skirt over her buttocks. The fabric of her panties had collected in her crack, revealing the smooth white skin of her ass. Nevertheless, she peeled the white briefs away until her ass was naked, and the panties stretched between her thighs. Her hands slid along her legs, emphasising their smoothness, pushing the white socks off her calves, until she had pushed them down to her ankles. She looked up from between her legs. "You don't mean a spanking, do you? Oh, Father, I don't know if I could take such punishment!" "I mean a paddling that will make you think twice before trying such impertinence again." He stood up and came around the desk, carrying a wooden paddle. The wood was as smooth as her skin, but where her skin was tender and soft the wood was hard and unyielding. He looked over her, her accepting posture, the graceful curve of the ass cheeks, the puffy exquisitely sensitive lips of flesh that still swelled between her legs. A well aimed paddle might impart a sting to them at the same time as it brightened the skin of her ass. He laid the paddle against her flesh, holding it with two hands. He let it drift slightly against her skin, brushing her cheeks, whispering across her exposed lips. She whimpered. Yes, a good strong smack might strike with such force as to spread her cheeks apart under the force of the blow, letting the very pucker of her hole feel the sting of the hard wood. He pulled the paddle back to strike the blow. "Please, Father, surely there is some other way!" Perhaps there was a note of true desperation in her voice. "I can be a good girl, I know it. I just need someone to show me the way. Please, Father, lead me in saying the Rosary, as only you can." His arms trembled as some internal struggle was fought within Father McMartin. In the end, the tension dissolved from his stance and he put the paddle aside. From the surface of his desk, he picked up a heavy string of black, smooth stones, all of a similar size until the last before the crucifix, which was twice the size of the others. He held the string of stones over her ass and let them drop slowly until they touched her skin. The dark stones were a stark contrast to her white skin. As he lowered them, they followed the valley between her ass cheeks. She gave a little gasp as the cool stones touched her. Finally he laid the crucifix on her tail bone as the first stone on the string hung free just next to the pink crinkle of her hole. He was sweating now, looking down at her. His hand crept along the string until his fingers came to the end, the stone dangled just outside her dark entrance. He took it and pressed it softly against her anus. She moaned softly in response. Increasing the pressure, he began. "Repeat after me..." Sister Angela Della Croce sat at her desk, just outside Father McMartin's office. It never ceased to amaze her. She had expected the biggest troublemaker in the school would for certain have received a paddling this time. She thought how she could hear the muffled whump of the paddle as it connected with the backside of some unfortunate, but undoubtedly desrving, schoolgirl. Some of them shrieked, some of them took their punishment silently, but always she could hear the impact. It was almost as if she could feel it herself, as if the tremor was travelling down the legs of the girl and through the floor and up the legs of her chair until it connected with her a fraction of a second after it had with the intended victim. She would give a little start, jumping a little in her seat, feeling a warmth spreading where she sat. Depending on the number of blows delivered, the feeling could spread quite far. It became quite uncomfortable to sit there, outside the office door, waiting for the paddle to fall again. She knew how many to expect for most infractions of the rules, as did the girls that broke them. Somehow the last one always took longer to fall. That was hardest, waiting, the warm tingling mingling with an electric pulse that throbbed so close by, waiting for the last blow and the little spark that flew from the tingling of her ass to the electric pulse that throbbed between her legs held tight together, as she held her breath waiting, the flush creeping upwards inside her. She would look quickly at the girl's face as she shuffled out, moving delicately to keep her skirt from brushing against her ass. Some were sniffling, tears streaking their cheeks. Some were grim, mouths set. But all were flushed and red, from bending over perhaps. It matched the color that had risen in her own cheeks. She would excuse herself as soon as possible. In the antiseptic stalls of the toilet, she would try to relieve the uncomfortable pulse that being forced to listen to the paddling had brought on. But this one, that deserved it more than the rest, somehow always cheated the paddle of its satisfaction, and thereby, Sister Angela of hers. Instead of the meaty smack of the paddle, all she ever heard was the girl saying the rosary in a slow, heartfelt way. She didn't know what to make of it. The stones slid from her ass as she sighed. "Oh, Father, maybe next time I'll let you paddle me, really." She straightened and pushed the hair away from her face. Reaching under her skirt, she pulled her panties completely off. "Now for your reward for being such a good disciplinarian. We'll find out in a minute if you're a firm disciplinarian, too." She stretched the panties and fit them over Father McMartin's head. The thin strip that had been pushed into her pussy was pressed against his nose. He cupped his hands over his face and inhaled deeply. She undid his belt and pulled it out of the loops of his pants. "Now, now, that's cheating. You know hands go behind you." She quickly turned him around and tied his hands behind his back with the belt. She sat back down in the leather chair and he kneeled in front of her. Hooking her legs over the arms, she slid forward until her exposed pussy was at the edge of the seat. Father McMartin leaned forward, his tongue pressing against the white cotton. "Dear girl, before we start, please tell me how it is that your sex is so beautifully and completely hairless. Nothing has aroused me so much or brought me to such degradation since you first visited my office. Your lips, so full, so lush, fouled by not even a single hair that would betray your bountiful womanhood." "Well, Father, let me give you a choice. The first version is that when I first began to sprout hair I was fascinated by how it felt. It was kinky and curly and spread into a thick vee and flowed around the sides of my pussy. I would pat it and run my fingers through it and keep it out of my pussy. But from touching my hair, I went to touching myself, and my fingers slid into the delicate slit of my flesh and I discovered the pleasure of self abuse. To atone for this sinful pastime I would pull out one of my hairs each time I had aroused myself to orgasm, since it was the hair that had led me down that path. Too quickly, my mound was denuded of cover since I could not stop stoking the fires of damnation that burned between my legs. Even now, I examine the soft skin around my pussy several times a day, plucking out any hair that I feel, though in the way of examining myself I perpetuate the terrible act also. The other possibility is that when I use Nair to strip the hair off my legs I make sure to lather up my pussy at the same time. While I wait for the proper time before wiping the foam away my fingers stroke my clit, stretching the tension, teasing until I can't wait any more. Then I wipe the foam away and hold a mirror between my legs to make sure everything is gone, and as I'm holding the mirror I stroke my pussy again until I climax, watching myself in the mirror, watching the spasms squeeze the juice out of my cunt. You can believe either one you want. Only one of them is true. The other I just made up right now. But whichever is true, you can see by close inspection that I am perfectly and completely hairless." He looked closely at her pussy, his eyes framed by the leg holes of her panties. Sister Angela was beginning to worry. The girl had been longer in Father McMartin's office that anyone ever before. He had a meeting soon. She hoped he hadn't forgotten. Father McMartin had slid to the floor, and his wrists were now lashed to the legs of the chair by his sholaces. The panties were now a gag in his mouth. His pants were around his knees. Mary McGuire straddled him, her skirt covering his head, her pussy a tantalising inch from his face. With one hand she stroked his stiff cock, just letting her fingertips drift up and down the length of it. "Of course, I have to protect my virginity from things like this, it won't be going anywhere near my pussy. And it's got such horrid hairs on it, I couldn't think of putting it in my mouth. But it doesn't feel so bad to hold in my hand, don't you think?" She wrapped her hand around its girth and pulled lightly up and down. Father McMartin trembled and groaned past the gag. She talked as she stroked him. "It's not so hairy near the top. Maybe this time I could bring myself to lick the head of it, or slip it briefly into my mouth. I wonder what the come tastes like, the moment it spurts so thick and white from inside you. Maybe I'll find out today." She bent close and breathed soft and warm onto the head of his cock. The buzzer erupted on Father McMartin's desk. "Father? Miss McGuire's father is here for her. It seems she's acommpanying him to work for a Bring Your Daughter To Work Day. And you have those members of the Board in five minutes." Mary turned around, looking at Father McMartin with a smile and a sparkle in her eye. "Sorry, it looks like we can't finish our game today. I can't keep my dad waiting, he's already late for work as it is. But you're such a dear, you can keep the panties this time." With that she got up, dusted off her knees, and slipped around the office door, closing it behind her. "Sister Angela, Father McMartin said to tell you that he would be spending the next few minutes in prayer, so he doesn't want any interruptions. But when the board members arrive, you can bring them straight in." "Hi, Dad." She pecked him on the cheek. He gave her a hearty squeeze in return. "Hows my little Virgin Mary today? Looking forward to coming to work with me? She shivered. "I'm so excited. Wouldn't miss it for the world, Dad. What with everything you've told me about the absorbing work of a corproate lease attorney, I don't know how I've stayed away this long." "Don't worry Sugar Plum, it might seem exciting when you see the office for the first time, but when you go there every day it becomes routine. Don't let it get to you, just act like you do at school, and everything will go fine." "If you say so." They got to the car. There was huge stack of papers in the passenger seat. "Gee, Dad, guess I'll have to ride in the back. It'll be like you're the chauffeur. To work, James!" She giggled and hopped in. "Can we ride with the top down?" "Sure, it's a nice enough day." He started the car as the top pulled back and stowed itself away. They pulled out of the parking lot of the school and headed for the highway. As they pulled into traffic, Mary leaned forward. "Hey, Dad, can I lie down and get a suntan?" "Well, you can lie down, but we're going to get there soon enough that I don't think you'll get much of a tan." "Okay." She disappeared from his view through the mirror. Soon one bare leg rose and draped across the top of the back seat. They drove on for a while. "Hey, Dad? Do you think if a girl exposes her genitals to passing truck drivers she's endangering her virginity?" "Honey, I can't hear you what with the wind and all. You'll have to hold the questions until we get to the office. Damn traffic! We're surrounded by trucks!" At the office, Mary was introduced to the other attorneys who worked with her father. Other girls were there with a parent also, but Mary stuck close to her dad. "Can I help you with your work, Dad?" "Sure, Pumpkin. See that stack of papers we brought to work? Those are the terms of a sale and leaseback agreement. They have to be taken to the office of my boss, the senior partner. Do you remember who that is?" "Is he the guy that just smiled when I accidently spilled some coffee on his pants and wiped it off for him, and said I looked 'fetching' in my school uniform?" "Yeah, that's him. Try not to get me in any trouble with him. Just delive these papers to his office. Tell him that I've reviewed them and that everything looks fine to me, except the interest rate spread is an eighth of a point wider than is usual. Can you remember that?" She staggered out the door of his office, holding the papers in both arms. As she weaved down the hall, he called out after her. "Don't forget, ask if the spread is too wide!" She opened the door with her foot. When the senior partner saw who it was behind the pile of paper, he got up from behind his desk. "Here, let me help you with that." Together they put the stack down in the In basket on his desk. "So your father sent you with these, eh. Probably violating the Child Labor Act, but I won't tell." He sat back down in his heavy leather chair and let his eyes wander up and down over her body. "Would you like to stay and see how things get done in my office?" "Uh, sure! Besides, there's one thing my Dad asked you to look at." "What is that?" She came around the big desk until she was facing him. She sat on the blotter in the center of the desk and stretched her legs out to each side. With one arm behind her for support, she reached between her legs with the other and opened her pussy lips. "My Dad asked if you liked the spread as wide as it is?" His hands trembled as he stared wordlessly, his jaw working up and down. A definite bulge rose in his pants where she had spilled the coffee on him earlier. Suddenly he sprang up and stepped quickly to the door. He closed it and then slumped against it. He took out a handkerchief and wiped his head. "My dear, that is the most tantalising, breathtaking sight I've seen in many a year. I'd long ago given up hope of ever seeing in person such smooth young flesh again. But your father is always going on about his daughter, the Virgin Mary. I can't believe you're the same person." "Oh, I am, and I am a virgin and intend to stay one. But don't confuse virginity and chastity. I don't think I've had a chaste day of my life since I got out of diapers. Now come back over here and sit back down in this big chair. I've almost had several orgasms today, but somehow the timing has never worked out. Maybe you should show me what you're hiding in your pants right now." He unzipped his pants and brought out his penis. It was large and covered with grey hairs. She spread her legs again and began stroking her clit as he sat down in the chair, watching her, holding his cock in one hand. "I'm afraid I'll come quite a bit before you, my dear. My friend here hardly gets to half mast anymore before he starts coming." "Really? Soft and coming, that's a combination I haven't seen yet. Give me your handkerchief." She hopped off the desk and took it from him. "We don't want any more drips on the pants, now do we? You're saying that if I swirled the smooth end of your cock around in my mouth with my hot little tongue teasing the dickens out of it, that the dickens will start flowing out of it before it ever gets hard?" She gave a little pull as she bent over his lap. "Y-Yes, most probably. Just the thought of your hot little tongue teasing my dickens almost makes it come right now." Holding the base of his semi-erect cock in the handkerchief, she opened her mouth to take him in. "Mary? Are you in there?" Her father's voice carried through the door at the same time as the handle began to turn. "Hi, Dad." As her father entered the room he saw his daughter standing with her hands behind her back, directly in front of the senior partner, who had apparently just risen from his chair. "Hi, pumpkin. You were a little long on your errand so I decided to come look for you. Is everything OK?" "Oh, great. I gave the papers to your boss. He's really nice." Her hands worked furiously behind her. "He was showing me some of his own work, highly confidential." All the senior partner could do was smile weakly and wiggle his eyebrows. "Sir? And how was the spread? Did you get a chance to look at that?" "The, ah, spread, yes. It was, uh..." He seemed a bit distracted. "Do you remember how wide it was? I really wanted you to look into that, tell me if it was to your liking." "Oh it was fine, splendid, a great spread, gaping wide open smooth, best spread I've seen in years. I think, oh God, I think I I..." Mary's hand gave a few firm jerks. "Sir?" "Daddy, he was just saying before you walked in what a great job you'd done. As a matter of fact, he was telling me he thought you deserved a promotion for it." "Sir!" "Oh, he wanted me to keep it a secret, but I have such a hard time keeping secrets." She looked behind her with a sweet smile. "I'm sure you understand, don't you? No hard feelings?" "N-No, of course not." "You see, Dad, your boss is really a softie. He was just asking me if I would be his summer intern when you came in." "Marvelous! Mary, you and I could car-pool with the top down, all summer long!" "Yeah, it'll be great fun. Let me finish up here and I'll be back to your office right away, I promise. My salary demands are a bit sticky and your wants to make sure he doesn't violate the Child Labor Act." "OK, see you soon." The senior partner found his voice again. "Oh, and close the door on your way out, will you? Thanks." The door closed softly. Mary and the senior partner both let out a long breath. She turned and looked at the limp cock nestled in the handkerchief, the head covered with white come. "Any regrets?" "I didn't get to see you come." "I'll be coming the whole summer, don't worry. I am going to be your summer intern, after all." She looked into his eyes and smiled, a virginal smile, but one that was anything but chaste. Sisters Ng: Letter from Yossi, by Deidre Ng 10/16/97 Hi, my name is Yossi A., and I live in Tel Aviv, Israel. Like most Israelis, I serve military duty as a reservist. My assignments are often in the security region in southern Lebanon. Like most reservists, I hitchhike to and from my posting alot, but sometimes it's easier to just rent a car. Recently, I was travelling with three of the men in my squad back north from Tel Aviv to Lebanon. We rented a car so that we could travel together most of the way. Right in front of me on line at the car rental place was an American girl. She was a typical tourist, very soft compared to Israeli women. Naturally, I struck up a conversation with her. Like most American girls, she was more than happy to talk to a handsome Israeli guy in uniform, who was nonchalantly holding an Uzi behind her in line. It turned out she was renting a car to tour the north of Israel with two of her girlfriends. By the time we both had our keys, I had convinced her that she could get no better tourguides than the four of us soldiers. Her two friends accepted my offer as well. They were both soft girls, too. They were Allison, Brittany, and Crystal, ABC. Typical American names. We split up. Two of my men, Binyamin and Ilan, went in their car with Allison and Brittany. Crystal rode in our car with myself and Moshe. We rode up the coast as far as Caesarea then went inland. We drove them all over the map. They obviously didn't know how to drive in Israel, by which I mean very fast, and everyone look out for themself. We raced the cars and cut each other off and had a good time. When we stopped for lunch the four of us compared notes. We were all sure Crystal wanted to get fucked. She had looked each of us over and flirted heavily with Moshe in the back seat, using the excuse of being hot to open her top and fan herself with it, giving him a good look at her tits. When we swerved she let herself fall all over him, giggling and squealing. The other two were enjoying the attention we paid them, but we weren't sure if they would be as friendly as Crystal. By the end of the day, we had driven them far into the north of Israel, to Kiryat Shemona. We had dinner with them and checked in to a small motel there. Our rooms were next each other, so as soon as we were in, we started banging on the wall for them to come over. Sure enough after five minutes, our door opens and in steps Crystal. She was wearing cutoff jeans and a tee shirt. We started pounding for the other two to come in as well. "You can stop pounding," she said, "they already decided they were too chicken." She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and quickly pulled it over her head. As she pulled her long blonde hair through the neck of the shirt, we watched her large soft breasts swing back and forth. She smilied at us, frozen in place as we eyed her breasts. "Besides, I'd rather not share." Obviously the idea of four hard cocks was irresistible to her. She sat down at the edge of one of the single beds in the room. She shimmied out of the shorts while we stripped off our underwear. Now she was alone with four naked men. Our cocks were stiff and bobbing up and down in front of us. She stood up and we crowded around her, kissing her, stroking her, rubbing our hard bodies against her softness. I could tell she enjoyed being surrounded by manflesh, having so many hands touching her at once, a cock pressed against her belly at the same time as one is sliding along the crack of her ass, at the same time as each of her small soft hands is stroking another and another. She was already panting, and a dew of sweat had sprung up on her forehead. My hand was exploring her shaven pussy while another man's tongue duelled with hers and two other hands played with her nipples. She broke the kiss and groaned as my fingers parted her pussylips. She shivered and looked at me with tremendous desire written on her face. "Yossi, I want you first. Fuck me right now!" I looked at her, so soft, so full of desire. "Fall back!" I shouted in Hebrew, a military order. My men responded instantly, leaving Crystal standing alone in suprise. "Maybe," I said to her, "you think that as commander of these men I deserve to take you first, or maybe you just decided you want me first because you like my looks or how my cock felt in your hand just now, or how my fingers felt in your pussy. But thats not how things work here. We are a squad, and we have to work as a team at all times. Let me show you how it is with us." "Squad!" I spoke to them in English for her benefit. "We are about to enter foreign territory. Reconnaisance patrol formation, Ilan at point. Binyamin, Moshe, you are overwatch. I will take the rear." Ilan stepped forward. He had been standing behind her, now his hands came up around her again to cup her breasts. He got to pinch them once before she twisted around and pressed herself against him, kissing him passionately. She slid her kisses down his chest as she fell to her knees, then worked her mouth up the length of Ilan's cock before swallowing it. Ilan's hands worked through her golden blonde hair, pressing her forward, forcing her to take more of his cock. Binyamin and Moshe stood at either side, watching Ilan's cock disappear into her mouth. I sat at the one chair in the room, a little behind Ilan. I could see his muscles bunch as he thrust his cock forward into her mouth, I could watch her tongue flick out to tease his cock before swallowing it again. He pulled her up before she could make him come. Taking her by the forearms he pushed her down onto one of the beds. Her legs came up and she pulled at the back of her knees to spread herself apart even more. With the slickness of her spit lubricating him, Ilan slid deeply into her from the first stroke. She groaned again at the pleasure of being taken so deeply. She looked at each of us, as if to make sure we were watching her get fucked, as if we could have looked at anything else at the moment. I think she was taking as much pleasure from being watched by three men as she was by being fucked by one. Ilan's balls were tucked up against him like he was ready to shoot his cum into her. As he pulled out for one last long stroke, I could see his cock was thick and red, ready to explode in her. She was thrashing under him, riding his stiffness towards an orgasm of her own. Finally they slammed their bodies together, her legs impossibly open, his cock buried impossibly deep in her. They writhed soundlessly for a moment as he spent himself inside her, as she clenched tightly around him. Then they collapsed. All the tension drained from her as she settled onto the bed, letting Ilan's cock stroke her as he shot the last of his cum into her. For a moment they were still, then Ilan slid out of her. He got up and sat on her chest so that she could lick the mixture of her cream and his from his softening cock. She left her legs spread apart so that we could enjoy a view of the place Ilan had just been occupying. Her lips were peeled open, pink, puffy, glistening with her natural moisture and a thick layer of Ilan's cum. She giggled as he fed her his soft cock to clean. She took it all and let him pull it slowly free of her lips. It stretched as she sucked the last of the cum from his cock-head. Her head fell back as he pulled free and she licked her lips contently. Ilan got up from the bed and immediately fell into the other single bed. He looked utterly contented. Crystal looked over at him and laughed. "He tastes so good, but I suppose I'm not going to get any more out of him right now. Good thing he gave me some more." She licked two of her well manicured fingers and let them walk from her mouth, between her breasts, across her belly, before gingerly inserting them into her pussy. "Guys, I know you're enjoying watching me, I'm certainly enjoying being watched. Just sit back and watch for a little bit, OK?" Binyamin and Moshe looked over to me. I motioned for them to relax, they'd get their turn. Binyamin leaned back against the wall, Moshe sat at the end of the bed Ilan was lying in. She had curled one arm around her head as she probed her pussy with the other hand. Her fingers came out sticky with cum mixed with her juice. Lazily, she lifted her hand to her mouth and licked her fingers clean. Again, she penetrated herself, wriggling her fingers around, squirming a little in delight at the feeling, before reluctantly pulling her fingers out. This time she squeezed the load of cum and juice onto her nipples, letting her nipples squish between the lubricated fingers. Licking the fingers of her other hand, she massaged both breasts, pulling and twisting at her hardening nipples. Returning one hand to her pussy, she worked her fingers into her pink slit again. This time, when they came out lathered with the pearly mixture of her excitement and cum, she let her fingers tenderly explore the stretched folds around her clit. She was holding tight to one nipple, rolling it back and forth as she painted her clit with the moisture on her fingers. She was just making contact, sliding one finger across her clit as the others massaged the folds of her pussy. She was panting, letting the feeling take her. She looked around at each of us again, making sure we were watching her hands moving across her body. Her eyes settled on me, locked with mine. It seemed to raise the tension in her to a new level. The hand at her pussy started to move more vigorously, the hand at her breast kept a constant pulling tension on her nipple. She started whispering to me from across the room, not taking her eyes off me. "Oh, yes, baby fuck me so good fuck me deep thats it so deep fucking me so good baby yess oh yess fucking me yess oh oh" At last her eyes rolled up as she came, a series of gasps for breath matched by her hips twitching upwards. The walls of her pussy spasmed, pressing out a new flow moisture. "Achshav - Now," I motioned to the two waiting men. She was completely spent. She let them turn her over onto her knees and elbows. She stretched like cat, flexing her back. She shook the hair out of her face, her soft breasts swinging in accompaniment. Binyamin got behind her, running his hands over her smooth ass cheeks. Moshe pushed the pillow aside and knelt in front of her face. The three of them barely fit all at once on the single bed. Crystal turned her head and smiled up at Moshe, then began kissing him across his flat stomach. His cock beat against her neck, sliding to this side and then the other. His strong hands kneaded the muscles of her shoulders. Binyamin was kissing her ass, biting her cheeks alternately. His hands were moving up and down the inside of her thighs. She wiggled her ass appreciatively. Apparently she was eager to be filled at both ends at once. She reached back between her legs, searching for Binyamin's cock. He gave it to her, and after lubricating the head of it with her spit, and giving it a few strokes and a squeeze, she guided it into her waiting pussy. Just a few strokes and Binyamin was deep into her tight cunt. With her rear filled, she gave her attention to Moshe. Soon she had his cock sliding wetly in and out of her mouth, one hand stroking and squeezing it. Binyamin licked his own finger and started playing with her asshole. She gave a little sound from her throat. He pulled his cock out of her pussy and started pressing it against her asshole. She made a strangled sound again, but continued to suck Moshe's cock deeply into her mouth. With a grunt of triumph, Binyamin's cock sunk up to it's head into her asshole. Her response was smothered by Moshe's thrusting his cock into her mouth at the same moment. She was suddenly completely still, and I watched a deep red flush spread across her flesh. Binyamin pushed slowly into her. Each small thrust made her nostrils flare, her flesh quiver and her breasts shake. Moshe pulled his cock out of her mouth so that she could breathe, letting it lay wetly against her cheek. She gasped for breath. Binyamin couldn't hold out against the tension of his long wait and the overwhelming tightness of her ass. With a final quivering thrust he shot his cum into her ass. She barked a cry in response. She turned her head, seeking Moshe's cock. He let it slide back into her mouth. Binyamin's cock slipped out of her ass, still dribbling the last of his cum. He rubbed it up and down the crack of her ass, squeezing her cheeks together around it. Something had been released in Crystal by being taken in that way. She grabbed at Moshe's ass, pushing him deeper into her mouth. She seemed determined to be fucked down her throat by his cock. He fucked her hard that way, until he was about to come. Her head bobbed up and down over the head of his cock, her lips and tongue stoking the sensitive tissues. His cock head flared deep purple and suddenly his white cum filled her mouth to overflowing. She held the fountaining cock against her lips, pumping it with her hand, letting the cum paint her face before she ran her tongue around and around to lick it up. She sucked his cock deeply into her mouth again to coax the last spurts out, drawing a moan a satisfaction from Moshe. The two men tumbled off the bed. Binyamin sprawled on the cot that had been dragged into the room for us. Moshe put on his pants and stepped out into the night for a smoke. Crystal turned over slowly. Her hair was damp with sweat. A trickle of Moshe's cum ran down her neck between her breasts. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked at me. "Is this how you want me? Do you like your women soiled and used, licking the cum of another man off their fingers? They've taken me every way possible already, what have you left for yourself?" "It's the perogative of a commander to have things his way, but its the reponsibility of a leader to look after the welfare of his men. I will probably never see you again after tomorrow, but these guys I have to trust with my life." I would have treated her to more homespun Israeli Army philosophizing, but at that moment the first rocket landed in the fields around Kiryat Shemona. Moshe burst back into the room. "Katyushas! From the west!" That meant from inside Lebanon. The siren began to wail, warning everyone down into the shelters that are a sad necessity in Kiryat Shemona. I threw a shirt to Crystal to wear as Moshe hustled her and her two friends off to the shelter. We immediately began warning everyone, banging on doors, rousting the other patrons of the motel out of their sleep. When the official wardens came around I went down myself. The shelter had room for twice the number in it, about twenty. Everyone from the motel was there, the night manager, an old woman, and all the guests. My men were with the three American girls, telling them not to worry. It didn't seem to help. The air smelled of stale sweat and fear. Another rocket fell. We felt its whump through the earth. The lights went out. I had been standing by Crystal. She was shivering in my shirt. The tails barely covered her ass. I took her hand and drew her away from everyone else clumped up at the front of the shelter. When I felt the bare concrete of the back wall I stopped. I turned and held her for a moment. In my arms her shivering subsided. She stunk of sex. Whispering, I started to talk to her again. "Now I will tell you how I like my women. Soft. You see, after fucking three big Israeli soldiers, you are still soft. I want you to know that you are not in America. This Israel, its a hard place. You're not just a cheerleader fucking four guys on the football team. "You've crossed over from the vacation fantasy into the real Israel, the life and death Israel where some of your friends could be dead tomorrow. Tommorow the four of us are going to cross over into Lebanon and our assignment could very possibly be finding the idiots who are currently lobbing rockets at us. So for now we are standing here in the dark and we have to make the best of it. Welcome to the real Israel." She might have been going to say something but I was kissing her, hard, pressing her softness against the hard concrete. She yielded to me, pulling me in. I pinned her hands over her head, pressing her against the wall, tasting the saltiness in her mouth. I broke the kiss and moved my hands to the buttons of the shirt. Her hands stayed where I had pinned them over her head. She was panting as I whispered into her ear. "Now I will tell you that the first rule about fucking in bomb shelters is be very, very quiet." She nodded. I finished with the buttons, pushed the shirt aside and put my hands over her soft breasts. I found her nipples already hard. I took them between my fingers and pinched them. She sucked in her breath but didn't cry out. Maybe we would get away with it, I thought. We fucked standing. She wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my hips. I held her under the ass and pinned her to the wall with my cock. Twice the wall behind her shook from the detonation of rockets as we fucked. Each time she wrapped herself a little tighter around me, and my cock drove that much deeper into her. The slow deep pressure of my cock put her over the edge. She came. I felt hot tears squeezed from her eyes drop on my cheek. I covered her mouth with my own to stifle her cries. I couldn't hold back my own orgasm any longer. She could feel it coming in the way my cock swelled inside her, hot and stiff. I felt her head nodding, encouraging, accepting. It was an effort to keep quiet as I shot my cum into her cunt. After I let her down she turned me around and pushed me against the wall so that she could kneel in front of me and suck my cock clean. Her mouth was wonderfully soft, sucking and licking me clean. All good things come to an end, even rocket attacks. They let us out of the shelter after an hour. Crystal went back to sleep the rest of the night in her own room. Ilan and Binyamin got the single beds in our room, Moshe got the cot, and I got to sleep in our rented car. In the morning Crystal slipped back into our room to share the shower with us. We each got to feel her soft mouth on our cocks again. We made sure she got another mouthful of cum from each of us before she left. We said good bye to the three of them after breakfast. There is nothing else to say. Yossi ng 08/16/96 9/70 -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----