It is this gravity which I will shake.

In body she is a girl still. Long, smooth legs and arms.
A tight, athletic bottom of a totally gratuitous degree of beau
ty. Understated but classically lovely breasts. Strong shoul
ders and an unusually striking long neck, with a very prideful
quality. Her head is graceful and wellset. A mane of long
sometimeslight and sometimesdark blond hair.

It is this wholesome prettiness which I will degrade.

The face? Unusual. The woman’s eyes, changeable as to shade and
hue, draw one in, over and over. The stormgrey eyes that you
smiled into yesterday may be dark umber tomorrow. There is also
a peculiar asymmetry, in that not only are her eyes not in hori
zontal plane (true of many people), the eyes are slightly differ
ent sizes. This is not discomfiting; rather enchanting, further
proof that THIS one is THE one, and not just another one.

This is the one whose eyes must be made to see into Hell, and
smile at what they see.

To kiss this woman is to draw close enough to get inside the
orbit of those eyes, to taste sweet lips and a lively tongue and
for a moment forget what one might have seen mirrored in the
eyes…

But today is not a day for kissing.

***

This woman feels that she has done wrong. Her great intelligence
wars with her sexuality, analyzing and measuring the very feel
ings that defy analysis and corrupt measurement. In order to be
taken away from her own constant scrutiny, she must be abused,
treated with rough disdain, as though enough humiliation and pain
trips a relay that not only allows her to come, but stills the
dry, pedantic voices in her head.

***

When I enter the room, she has been standing, roped to the top of
a door, almost on tiptoes, for about ten minutes. The strained
posture does artistic things to the dynamics of her trim, athlet
ic legs, and the raising and centering of her cuffed arms pushes
her small breasts together and out. She is wearing panties and a
cotton Tshirt; this I have allowed her.

I walk over and stand next to her. “Getting any taller?” I
ask, jokingly.

“No, sir.” She doesn’t like a lot of talk. _I_ like a lot of
talk, so a lot of talk is what she gets. She also doesn’t really
know what I can accomplish with talk. There have been those who
have been broken under my casual conversation more profoundly
than if I had used a branding iron.

But now the time for talking is passed.

I lean down and run the backs of my fingers up one calf. The
woman shivers slightly, a racing horse in tether.

***

I return to the room, dragging a simple wooden director’s chair.
What I am about to do was actually taught me by a teenage girl,
long ago; one of the legion of masturbatory exhibitionists and
generalpurpose kinks that seem to find me by means of some
sexual sonar.

I sit down in the chair and study the woman. Her face is in an
attractive grimace, eyes slitted, lips pulled back across her
large, healthy white teeth. She flicks a sideways glance at me
from under her knitted brows. There is still a good deal of
defiance in that look. I steeple my hands and ask, “Would you
like to be let down?”

The woman looks at me again, this time warily. “Yyes, Sir.
Please.”

“Oh, it pleases. I wouldn’t have suggested the possibility if
it didn’t please me.” I get up from the director’s chair and
slide it closer to her, so that the chair is almost under her,
but facing the wrong way. “Would you like to be let down into
this chair?” I say, smiling.

She studies the smile, and a blazing mix of emotions flash across
her face; fear, anticipation, lustand something else, perhaps
bewilderment. This woman is seldom bewildered, and it feels
strange and exciting. (Of course, she is relatively seldom hung
from a door, but this does not bewilder; this was requested.)
“Yes” she says, her voice somewhat strained from her lengthy
suspension.

I turn up the smile another notch. I have had 300pound bikers
walk away backward from _this_ smile. “Would you like?” I
continue, in a harsh whisper, “to be let down _onto_ this
chair?”

The woman’s differentsized eyes flare, and her mouth clamps
shut. She looks sideways at me, finally not seeing me but the
authority, the terrible punishment, the indignity, the pain that
her inner voices need. “Please…” she says, in a voice as
hoarse as mine. “Please…”

I step very close to the woman. I snap my fingers and a short,
bitterly sharp leafbladed knife jumps from my sleeve into my
hand. A mere trick, but impressive in the context. Before she
can react, I slice her panties in half, one vertical swipe down
the back that kisses the skin as lightly as a breeze. One more
pass and the wispy garment falls to the floor. I put the knife
away (did she show a flash of disappointment?) and run my hands
slowly, carefully over her buttocks. Not a sexual gesture; more
like an examination of the ground before some surgical operation.

With one hand I steadily but firmly pry her cheeks apart. I use
the middle finger of the other hand to first locate, then touch,
then penetrate her tight, dry anus. A gasp is born in the
woman’s body but she kills it before it can reach her lips.

Looking the woman in the eyes, I unsmilingly work my finger in
her body, gently but steadily maneuvering until the finger is in
up to the second joint. Her asshole is very tight, very dry,
very hot. I wiggle the embedded finger a few times. The woman’s
face tries to stay cool, but her eyelids flutter and her mouth
tics.

***

“Close your eyes,” I say softly. The woman is slow. She wants
somehow to see over her shoulders and back, to see my hand plun
dering her ass. “Close your eyes, I said!” I bark. I take my
free hand from her buttocks and slap her across one breast, fast
but not very hard. This is a richly symbolic “wrong” thing to
do to a woman; she likes it very much.

“Keep your fucking eyes closed” I warn. I remove the finger
from her asshole. The woman gasps. Her eyes are squeezed tight
ly shut. For some odd reason, the nipple of the unslapped breast
is now as hard as a gemstone and pokes impertinently at the thin
fabric of the Tshirt.

I pop the snap on the chair’s canvas seatcover and slide the top
back flap down. The upper end of the back leg of the chair now
stands free, a round pole of polished wood with a rounded end,
about one inch in diameter.

I walk to the side table, open the drawer, take out the metal
container, walk back to the hanging woman. I open the tin, scoop
out a healthy dollop of slippery substance with two fingers, find
her asshole, and start working the slimy fingers and the Crisco
into her anus. The woman makes a kind of slippedgear noise, but
keeps her eyes shut.

***

“What will you do if I let you down?”

“…Anything.”

“Oh, really? Anything?”

“…Yes, sir.”

“Will you, oh, let’s see…will you masturbate to my
directions?”

“If you like, Sir.”

“Will you talk to me while you are doing it?”

“…talk about…?”

I slap the same breast again. Such a nice breast for hitting;
small, firm, delicately pointed. The woman gasps.

***

“You may open your eyes,” I say. “I am now going to let you
down onto the chair.” I can see her face, showing relief, then
trying to hide it. I slide the chair around until it is posi
tioned up against the backs of her legs, the polelike rear leg
sticking up at an angle. She looks over her shoulder at the
chair, and then at me.

I get another gob of Crisco, and slowly and thoroughly smear it
all over the chair leg, around the knobby top and a foot down the
rounded, polished shaft.

The woman looks at the chair leg, at my hand, and then at my
face. Her expression becomes…profound. A complex mixture of
terror and desire, one might almost say. She whispers, like dry
leaves rattling, “I…_can’t_.”

I smile. “You will.”

“It’ll hurt me. It could KILL me!”

“Well, you’ve got those nice long legs, and last night, I meas
ured you and the chair, dozens of times, and sawed four inches
off the bottoms of the chair legs.” I wipe my greasy hands on
her Tshirt, and reach for the ropes holding her wrists to the
top of the door frame. “As for hurt,” I continue, “I thought
that was the idea.”

The woman’s odd eyes now glance frantically about the room. She
licks her lips rapidly. Then she seems to briefly increase in
intensity, like an overloaded light bulb. Finally she nods.

***

“Are you comfortable?” I ask with a hint of a sneer. I had
tried it on myself, of course, previously, but there’s always a
difference in tolerance between things under ones’ own control
and things imposed from the outside.

The woman makes a low grunting noise. She is standing stock
still on her toes, slightly tipped forward, holding onto the back
of the chair with both hands in a whiteknuckled grip. She
certainly has that profoundly impaled look about her.

***

“Can you deal with it?” I ask, steadying her upper body with my
hands. I feel obscurely like some monstrous physical therapist,
assisting a patient in some painful but necessary treatment. At
that, I am not far wrong.

She squeezes out each word individually. “I…don’t…KNOW!”

***

The woman is touching herself. Things are beginning to happen.
She stirs lightly on her impalement, and the chair shifts and
creaks. She groans. “Hurt me…more!” she hisses.

I smile over her shoulder. “How?” I ask, as if asking a dining
patron if she wants freshground pepper.

“Tits!” she snarls, massaging faster between her legs. I am
further amused; this woman doesn’t say `tits’ when referring to
herself, not when she _is_ herself. Here, in the land of sweet
pain, we bark like dogs and grunt like pigs and use the MOST
disrespectful terminology.

I can only free one hand. I need to keep steady hold of the
woman, by a fist full of bunchedup Tshirt, to keep her upright.
She is just now beginning to give and lock at the knees, just a
very tiny bit. This brings her down a tiny bit onto the chair
leg, and then back up. I note this with some approval.

With my free hand, I reach around and once again begin slapping
her breasts. To do this almost makes me squeamish; I summon a
certain professional detachment that allows me to continue with
what is, after all, both required by the woman and vital to our
enterprise. Each delicate little breast rebounds from the flat
of my hand. The nipples seem to grow and then wane, grow and
subside, on individual impulses of their own. When my hand
begins to sting I seize a nipple and twist it, hard. The woman’s
fine head snaps back on her long, slender neck, and a lovely
grating noise escapes from her mouth.

***

I look down over the woman’s shoulder. One hand is digging in
the top of her vulva, the other is raking red nailmarks across
her smooth white belly. She is rocking on the chair leg, now,
with her feet flat on the floor. I hold her all the tighter with
one hand and arm, but there is one thing I must do before things
escalate to their determined conclusion. Without letting go, I
kneel, reach my right arm around and down until my hand reaches
the junction of the woman’s thighs. For once I am glad to be
tall and long of arm.

“Take your hand away for a little” I demand. The woman groans
but complies. I search with two fingers into her hot, twitching
center. It is as wet as it has ever been. “I just want to” I
say, soothingly, as I stick the two fingers up into her cunt,
“check on something” I feel with the backs of the fingers along
the rear wall of the vagina, “and see how it feels…”

I press the fingers up and backwards until I can feel the wooden
solidity of the chair leg through the intervening layers of
muscle and tissue. I press, lightly. The woman gives a terri
ble, startling moan and begins to contract around my hand. I
push very delicately at the back wall of her cunt, still holding
her firmly, as she writhes flatfooted on the chair leg. The
woman whips a hand down to rub her clit; this I allow. With the
other hand she captures one nipple through the Tshirt and sav
ages it far more violently than I am accustomed to doing. This I
allow.

The climax is lengthy, episodic, and serial. Toward the end I
remove my hand and take a fresh grip on the woman’s body; she
shows a tendency to slump after orgasm, and that would be danger
ous in the current configuration.

It is easy enough to hold up a woman this size and slide the
chair out of and out from under her. I let her fall, panting,
into the chair. I stand behind her, stroking her shoulders and
pushing her sweaty bangs away from her forehead.

Finally she speaks. “Sir?”

“Umm hmm…”

“Out of scene?”

“Oh, yes, indeed.”

She makes a whooshing exhalation, then turns and gives me one of
her `evil’ smiles; squinty eyes, knitted brows, mouth turned up.
I find it perfectly charming. “They warned me,” she says.

“Who warned you?”

“You know. They said you were absolutely 100% stone crazy and
dangerous.”

“Me? I’m a pussycat. I don’t make people do difficult things;
just think about a walnut fourposter bed, for example.”

She grimaced. “As soon as I can get up from here, I’m not
sitting down again for two weeks.”

I step away, rubbing my hands together. “You’ll be all right?”
I ask.

The woman halfturns to look at me. “You’re going?”

“Yes. I have other business…”

She nods, shivers slightly and then grimaces as some sore part is
disturbed.

I move toward the door. “I’ll call you,” I say. I open the
door to the hall, look back over my shoulder, and add “You can
keep the chair. The Crisco was, I believe, yours to begin
with.”

The woman’s last facial expression stays with me as I go whis
tling down the stairs and into the street.

The doorbell rings once, startling you from your morning
trance. You rise slowly from the table, wondering who it
might be. As you walk from the kitchen to the front door you
think “what a sight I am, hair all mussed, in an old robe
and worn slippers…well the hell with it, whoever it is
they probably don’t look much better than I do.”

Quickly you run your hands through your hair and down the
front of your robe, smoothing out the wrinkles as best you
can. Standing on your tip toes you peek through the security
viewer in the door. You can see the head and shoulders of a
man in a cap and workshirt. He apppears to be in his mid to
late thirties, with sandy blond hair peeking out from around
his cap.

You open the door slightly, and peering around the edge you
say “Yes?”

You can see more of him now…a strong, atheletic, tall man
carrying a toolbox in his right hand.

“You called about your refrigerator?” he says in a deep, but
soft baritone.

You remember your call to the appliance store in town
yesterday, and their promise to send someone to look at your
balky ice maker.

“Yes, I did, come in, please”.

You open the door to let him in, then close it behind him.

“The ice maker…it doesn’t work all the time, and we’re
expecting company this weekend”"

Just inside the door he places his tool box on the flooor
and turns to face you. His deep, hazel/green eyes meet
yours. You stand not moving under his unblinking gaze, and a
tremor of fear, or is it excitement, quivers along your
spine. For what seems an eternity neither of you speaks or
moves. You are riveted in place by his eyes. They seem to
reach out and hold you immobile, like a fawn caught in the
headlights of a speeding car.

He doesn’t move, or speak. His eyes seem to see right into
your soul, and you desperately want to say something to
break the spell…but you can’t find your voice. Something
primal in the depths of your being doesn’t want to move or
speak, something strong and insistent, caged and yearning
for the light pushes its way up through your stomach like a
white fire. You stand unmoving, trembling, half afraid.

You watch helplessly as his hands reach for you. They are
strong, rough hands…a workingman’s hands, but strangely
graceful in their movements.Slowly, one button at a time, he
unbuttons your robe. You feel on the edge of panic, but the
growing white fire in your belly holds you firmly, and
quietly, in place.

He pushes the robe gently off your shoulders, and it falls
silently, forgotten, to the floor.

Your knees are turning to water, and the trembling along
your spine is moving in waves. Gently he places his hands on
your shoulders and turns you around with your back to him.
His hands move softly to your hips, and with one hand on
your stomach backs you toward him, while the other lifts
your teddy over your head.

His hand on your stomach seems to spread the fire upward,
and for a moment you can’t catch your breath. Gently his
hands move upward to caress your erect nipples. and after a
moment, downward across your stomach. By now, your will to
resist is vanished…you are consumed by an animal need so
strong that it’s almost more frightening than this man, this
stranger. As he holds you against his body, you can feel his
nakedness against your back. Between your buttocks you feel
his erect penis pulsing gently, insistently.

He turns you around. For the first time you see his rock
hard body. The muscles of his stomach lie beneath his skin
like a washboard. His belly is covered by fine blond hair.
and his biceps ripple when he moves his arms. His tiny,
erect nipples point their desire at you, and as your nipples
touch his chest you totter on the edge of an orgasm.

In one fluid motion he reaches an arm beneath your buttocks
and another behind your back, and lowers you to the floor.
His hands begin to search every inch of your exposed body,
touching, caressing, fondling. Their rough texture on your
soft skin belies their gentleness. slowly his right hand
finds your clitoris and begins a gentle stroking which sends
waves of sensation coursing into your trembling belly. You
close your eyes, giving yourself over completely to the
sensations, feeling your mushrooming desire.

Your sensations gradually grow in intensity as the rhythm of
his hand on your clitoris grows ever faster. Suddenly he
stops, and you feel him move down toward your mons. He parts
your thighs and with a start of disappointment you feel him
move between them. Before you can open your eyes, you feel
the insistent pressure of his hand replaced by a warm, wet,
raspy sensation around your vagina, which moves slowly
upward toward your hot clitoris. As his wet tongue rasps
gently across it’s inflamed head you feel your belly explode
in orgasm.

As you writhe in helpless rapture his stroking tongue guides
you from peak to peak, until you think there can’t possibly
be any more. But moment after moment he caries you higher
until you believe you’ll die. Finally, you collapse, beyond
sensation, floating on a soft carpet in a warm sea. You lie
exhausted, but yearning for more.

The stroking of his tongue subsides to a warm caress which
adds a gentle pink haze to your dream like state. Then,
gradually you feel his tongue become more insistent, and
once again, and yet again, you explode in ecstasy. Time
after countless time you follow this stranger into
sensations you never imagined possible, and after each he
gives you an eternity of quiet caressing to savor the
journey.

Finally, his tongue abandons your clitoris, and begins a
march across your belly. Nibbling, stroking, sucking, he
moves up to your full breasts. You feel his warm, wet tongue
gently circling your erect and sensitive nipples, first one,
and then the other, as sensation shoots from their tips to
the pit of your stomach. As he moves along your body,
hovering just above it, you feel his penis, erect, inflamed,
pressing into your thighs, and then your stomach, pulsing
gently up and down. You feel his breath panting on your
neck, and the extinguished flame of your desire rises again
from the ashes.

You become aware of the tip of his penis pushing gently at
the entrance to your vagina, as he sucks gently on the skin
of your shoulders. Your hands move along his back, stroking
the hard ribbons of muscle beneath his skin. You feel his
body begin to thrust at your vaginal entrance, and you
sense his need through the insistence of his movements. Your
hands run down his back and grip his iron hard buttocks, and
you pull gently, encouraging his joining with you. As he
feels your hands pulling him firmly toward you, he thrusts
forward, and your well lubricated vagina engulfs his
engorged penis. You both gasp with pleasure at the
penetration.

His penis begins to stroke rhythmically, and with each
pistoning movement he seems to fill you completely. His body
is very strong, and his desire for you is intense, but his
movement is surprisingly gentle. This strong, hard man is
making love to you, and the sudden realization of it brings
on an orgasmic release which is as unexpected as it is
pleasureable. You rock together in a rhythm as old as time,
as waves of pleasure on the physical plane, and joy on the
spiritual plane wash over you both.

As your orgasm subsides into a warm glow, his thrusting
grows more gentle, virtually stoping at times.
Still he moves in and out, almost helplessly. Each gentle
thrust of his hips places his body deep inside yours. The
simple pleasure of being joined rivals the intensity of the
other sensations you have created together. You have no
sense of time, or place, only the joining, the oneness.

You can feel beneath the tightness of his back muscles a
growing need, an insistence, which is as much a part of his
primal being as the white hot fire in your belly is of
yours. You can sense in him a need to climax, to finish the
act, to leave part of himself inside you. You feel this need
building with every pistoning of his massively erect penis,
with every thrust of his hips. You can feel his buttocks
clenching with increasing desperation as he nears his
completion. As you feel this need, you want to join him
fully. His increasingly powerful thrusts are greated with
your own ever more powerful upthrusts as you strive together
to join in this most human of acts. You pound together,
stripped of intellect, reduced to primitive animals,
grunting, panting, sweat intermingling, senseless, inflamed
, and desperately reaching for each other. In a moment his
thrusting becomes beyond his control. You open yourself
totally pressing upward to meet his downward plunges until
he moans, tortured, and begins to stiffen with the
approaching climax. Your own final orgasm grips you at the
moment you feel his completion, and you hold him desperately
with every muscle in your body. His back arches violently,
and between your sweaty thighs, deep in the recesses of your
clutching vagina, you feel him begin to throb.With each
throb in your vagina, you hear him gasp, and you feel his
hot semen pour out of you, running down the crack between
your buttocks. With each thrust it flows around his
pistoning penis and gushes out. A half dozen times he fills
your overflowing vagina, and each time his huge cock forces
it out onto your buttocks. Its scalding wash inflames your
final explosion, and you shudder together in your final
release. In a last moment of conscious thought before you
collapse together you feel a completeness you’ve never
imagined possible before.

After some time, you couldn’t say how long, you feel his
lips brush your cheek. Without a word he stands up, pulls on
his clothes, picks up his tools, and quietly leaves.

For a long time afterward you lie alone on your livingroom
floor, wondering at your lack of remorse, and pleasuring in
the warm afterglo. “We never said a word” you think. And as
you think about it you realize that the silence, the
anonimity, made it alright. “I’m still married, I still have
the kids, I still love my husband…I’m ok.” And you realize
that you’ve gained something precious…a secret memory to
place in that absolutely private place inside, never to be
forgotton, or repeated.

Jill is a gorgeous 5′6” dirty bonde with medium length hair and a
perfect body. her legs are trim, yet quite toned and her ass was also a
magnificent sight. Jill has a pair of nice supple tits and a sexy belly
button. Let’s put it this way, Jill probably could have hooked up with
anyone she wanted too at BU. It’s a shame such girls are so picky! On
this Thursday afternoon, Jill had just finished her Biology lab and was
headded back to her dorm in the late afternoon cold- must have been 10
degrees. Her roommate, Jenn (another beauty), had already left for the
weekend to go to UCONN, where her boyfriend attends graduate school. Jill
was alone in the room and began to think of Eric and as she did, she felt a
slight tingling sensation between her legs. She turned on the TV and laid
her tired body on her bed to rest from the long day, when the phone rang.

“Hello, Jill said.
“Hey Jill. Randi, Heather and I are going to dinner, you commin’?” said
the voice on the other end. It was Jill’s friend Ellen.
“Jill thought for a second…”You know what, I think I’ll rest here for
now. I’m really tired, I had a long day in bio lab and I still have half a
pizza left from last night. I’ll just heat it up if I get hungry.” she
responded, and hung up. Jill wondered if her declining of the dinner
invitation was due more to the fact that she was tired, or because of the
increasing tingling between her legs. Jill rolled over and turned up the
heat in her cold room- then she fell asleep.

It was close to 6:30 when Jill woke up. It was dark outside and the
room was absolutely burning hot. Jill sat up on her bed and realized that
she was totally sweating. She decided to take a shower and change. As she
removed her clothes, she caught a glimpse of her lucious body in the full
length mirror. Jill stood in front of the mirror admiring her perfect body.
Slowly, her left hnd cupped her breast. Then she slid her right hand
down her belly to the top of her brown pubic hair. She instantly felt
sparks inside of her and reacheed out and locked the door. Standing there
in front of the mirror, Jill gently ran her fingers through her pubic hair.
She was teasing herself because this aching feeling inside her vagina had
begun and it was getting more intense with each passing moment. Jill felt
crotch getting more and more tense with sexual pleasure and she felt a wet
feeling in her cunt. Jill slowly moved her fingertips lower and loer until
she felt herself touching her full outer labia. She gently stroked them
and then pushed them apart to stroke her pink and wet inner lips. Jill
followed them up until her finger was resting on the hood of her clit. She
ever-so-gently tickedled her now growing clit until she felt her cunt cream
dripping down the inside of her left thigh. Jill’s head had tilted back
and her eyes were closed, but she moved to look in the mirror and sure
enough, her pussy was drooling down both inner thighs. She was in total
ecstacy with this feeling. Jill remembered that her best orgasms when
masturbating always came when she was lying on her back, so she stumbled
over to her bed, stopping on the way for her favorite vibrating dildo and
her roommate’s pillows.

Jill placed the pillows on her bed and lay down on her back, spread
eagled, totaly nude. She immediately carressed herself down to her hot,
wet cunt, and entered inside. She gently felt around wih one hand, while
playing with her left breast with the other. The sensations that Jill was
experiencing were unbelieveable. So much pleasure. Her twat was milking
her fingers and her clit was fully erect and begging for stimulation. Jill
obliged and gently frigged herself. As she did, she felt incredible
tension inside her crotch. It was so good. She had never felt such
incredible pleasure before. She was giving herself exactly what she
wanted. Her cunt was lubricating doubble-time and it was all gushing down
her crotch. Jill savored that wonderful sexy feeling of hot wetness beteen
her legs.

Jill’s back arched as she moved her clit in circles with her finger.
She felt the juice from her vagina oozing out and down her ass cheeks and
onto the silky soft pillows under her. She started breating harder and
harder and moving her sensitive clit faster and faster. Jill felt herself
getting closer and closer to an orgasm which was sure to be quite intense.
As she felt herself rising, she arched her pussy even more and began
bucking it into the air against her wickid finger. Sparks shot up Jill’s
spine as she felt herself coming to the brink of orgasm- that
unbelieveable point of incredible pleasure. Her whole body began to shiver
uncontrollably. She could feel her hard clit throbbing and pulsing with
each increasing heart beat. Her crotch was spasming hard and she darted
the fingers of her free hand deep into her cunt to feel the amazing
spasming and to relieve the pleasurable aching feeling that had begun deep
inside. It was unbelievably hot in there. Jill moaned louder and louder
with the inevitable orgasm and suddenly, her supple body tensed incredibly
hard. Jill let out a yelp, she had no control. Her pussy spasmed and she
went rigid with amazing pleasure. She cried out “Oh my god!!! and felt
herself convulsing. She shrieked as the release she felt was the most
incredible feeling she’d ever had. Jill’s orgasm was so intense that her
pussy actually squirted her hot juices out with each spasm. She was
cumming like a volcano! This beauty continued thrusting her fingers up her
twat as her shuddering continued for a good 30 seconds. She moaned over
and over. Jill just lay there for several minutes enjoying her sexiness
and the wet feeling between her legs. Her twat still belched forth its
lubrication and Jill loved feeling it ooze down her crotch.

When her body finally subsided, Jill thought to herself… “Hmmm. that
was nice.” She took a shower and dressed up to go out with her friends.

But that evening was going to be different. The girls had decided, over
dinner that they wanted to go to a male revue bar and watch the dancers.
Jill figured that this might make the girls horny and lead to a little
manage-a-quatre! It had happened before. but was Jill ready? She still
felt a little spent from her amazing mastubation session just 2 hours ago.

Jason dragged himself out of his chair and trudged down the hall, trying in vain to think of a way out of his mess. While walking, a slightly round figure approached him in the hallway, it was Jaime Kurtz, Professor Watters graduate assistant. While always wearing thick glasses, Jaime was the ultimate bookworm, and at only about five foot two inches tall, her short frame was forced to carry in excess of 185 pounds, so she looked much like a walking bowling ball! Before they passed each other, Jason had a quick brainstorm, and in desperation played his last card, “Jaime, how ya doin” he asked easily, “nice lecture you gave today, I can see why the Professor has put so much faith in you!” Jaime stopped as she neared Jason, and asked eagerly, “Did you really like it, I put a lot of work into that lecture, I hope the students appreciated it!” “Oh, I know I did,” Jason replied, “it was very good, but there’s just one thing,” and he let his voice trail off. “What’s that” she asked quickly, “if there was something wrong, I could correct it before the next class.” “Oh, no,” he answered smoothly, “it’s just that, well, I just don’t seem to understand the material like I should, do you think that you could maybe give me a little extra help, I mean, I’d pay you for your time!!!” “Oh you don’t have to pay me anything,” she replied excitedly, “that’s what were here for, to help the students!” “Good,” he said, “then it’s settled, let’s get together tonight at your place to go over the parts I’m having trouble with, okay!?!” The meeting was quickly arranged, and Jason was set to meet Jaime Kurtz that evening in her apartment at eight pm.

“Nice place,” Jason commented, while sitting down in the living room of Jaime Kurtz. It was apparent from the look on her face, that Jaime was more than a little happy that she had such a handsome young man visiting her, and since she was sort of a “plain jane”, she didn’t have much of a social life with the opposite sex, and even if this wasn’t a formal date, she did have Jason Polk in her apartment all to herself! “Now, Jason,” she began, “what seems to be the problem?” “Well, Miss Kurtz,” he replied, “it’s just everything, I just don’t seem to get it!!!” “Please, call me Jaime,” she offered, “let’s find out exactly where you need the most work.” “Okay, Jaime,” he said, while opening up his Econ 1 text book, “why don’t you come over here and we can go over some of this stuff!” Jaime slid onto the couch next to him, and waited until Jason stopped at the chapter on globalization of free trade. Jaime was obviously in her element, because for the next five minutes she talked practically non stop about the interaction of governments and business on a world wide scale, while Jason, of course was paying absolutely no attention to any of her gobble-d-gook, and instead during one of her more boring moments, let his arm casually drape around the instructor’s shoulder. She didn’t seem to even notice, but Jason figured it was now or never, so he turned to face her, and shut her up with a hard full kiss on the lip, and while she was momentarily stunned, she quickly warmed to the occasion and returned the kiss with her full passion! He pulled away, looked her in the eyes, and lied, “I’ve been thinking about doing that since your first lecture at the beginning of the semester!” “Really,” she asked, “you should have said something a long time ago,” as she then kissed him again, but this time even more passionately! As they kissed, Jason let his hand roam all over Jaime’s breasts, kneading and cupping the big fat udders, making her moan as he tugged on her now distended nipples. “Let’s get out of these clothes,” Jason ordered, and without waiting for an answer, stood up and shed all of this clothing, leaving him standing in front of her totally naked, and with a semi hard erection just inches from her face! He leaned forward just a few inches, allowing the head of his penis rushed against her moist lips. She let her tongue trace a line all over his knob, and it jumped every time her tongue flicked over it, until finally, she opened her mouth and let it slip into her warmth, caressing it like it were a rare piece of china. Her vagina flooded with moisture with the big cock in her mouth, it had been so long since she had done this, and never with a cock as magnificent this!!! Although she was anxious to feel it inside of her pussy, she couldn’t help herself, and soon she had induced a cum flooding orgasm that filled her mouth with the warm sticky goo savoring it and swirling it in her mouth until finally swallowing it all down, leaving a warm satisfied feeling in her ample belly!

Jason was surprised at the skill that Jaime had shown at sucking cock, he had figured her for a real neophyte, not a expert on oral love making, and although she had a tubby little body, and wasn’t the most attractive girl in the world, he had to admit that that was one of the best blow jobs he had ever had! As she scrambled to get off her clothing, her massive breasts swayed back and forth while her areolas tipped with fat nubs, stood out like mini erections hanging over her soft round belly! Jason for the life of him couldn’t figure it out, but he was getting another erection just looking her, and he realized that he probably wanted her as much as she wanted him!!! “How do you want it,” he whispered to her, while he twisted her big nipples between his thumb and forefinger? “From the rear,” she answered fiercely, “I want to feel like I’m really being taken against my will!!!” Jason’s pecker jumped, at the thought of ramming her from the back, and he lined up his cock as she settled on the sofa with her big ass in the air, and her legs wide apart exposing her bulging vagina. Jaime’s fur ran all the way to her ass hole and her slit contrasted a bright pink surrounded by the dark brown bush. Jason let the head of his cock just slip inside of her cunt, and when he was ready, he lunged forward, burying his pecker all the way into her tight vagina, inducing a blinding orgasm on the first plunge, her cunt totally unprepared for the vicious assault the hard thick penis was perpetrating on it! In the next two or three minutes, Jaime had at least three stunning climaxes, with perhaps two or three smaller, if no less satisfying cums! On Jaime’s last orgasm, Jason roared out loud as his own climax tore through his loins and exited his penis into her steaming cunt, causing them to collapse together in a heap of sweat, fat, and cum on the over stuffed sofa!!!

Jason idly played with Jaime’s nipples and said, “I hope that you can help me with my Econ, ‘cuz you’re my last hope!” With a knowing look she answered, “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble, but it’s going to take a lot more private sessions to make sure you know the material!” “Do you think you’ll have time for me,” he said half mockingly?!? She smirked a little, leaned over and kissed his pecker, and replied, “I’ll make time!!!”