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Smut bondage story

Administrator — Wed, 27 Aug 2008 20:18:24 +0000

Stacy was then lead in front of Katrina, and the two were taken
around the corner to a cell that had a strong solid iron door, with only a
small rectangular opening near the base for food. Stacy began protesting
wildly, as wildly as she could with her hands so tightly strung together,
but both she and Katrina were pushed into the cell. Their eyes, already
adjusted to dark, saw a dank cell with tile flooring and two steel beds
with thin mattresses. The guards lay them each down on the bed and with a
cord tied their legs. Stacy’s legs were drawn up to her hands and tightly
tied off. The cord around her neck was then tied, leaving little slack to
the heavy iron railing of the bed she was hogtied onto. Katrina received
much the same treatment, but Stacy noticed that the guard who tied her was
somewhat careless and did not tie her neck cord to the bed.
Stacy half-expected to be ungagged when the guard brushed away her
hair and looked for the buckle tightly fastened behind her neck, but when
he located it, he simply checked it to make sure that the strap was in its
keeper, and then replaced her hair. Stacy groaned deeply in her throat.
The guards turned to go, and as the exited the door, they took one
last look at their prisoners. They turned, slammed the heavy steel door
shut with a loud clang, and then slid a heavy metal bolt into place and
placed a padlock on it, locking it into place. One rectangle of light
remained, the tray hole, and within twenty seconds this was also slammed
shut and locked.
The girls, stunned with the hopelessness if the situation, began to
weep. Less than an hour ago, they were enjoying dinner in the wilderness
with a friend of Fernando, and now they were captured by unknown parties
for unknown reasons and were extremely stringently bound and locked away.
Even Stacy, who had before enjoyed a temporary indentured status which
soon would return by contract, to freedom, was paralyzed with the
uncontrolled nature of her situation. Her bondage now seemed far more
foreboding and permanent than the contractual bonds that she had assumed
for this voyage.
Her back was arched by her hogtie, and with her tears, her nose
became congested, making it necessary for her to breathe through the
corners of her mouth around her ball-gag. Katrina wept quietly in the
other cot near Stacy.
They were left there for hours. The tears no longer flowed after a
period of time, but the hopelessness remained. Their hog-ties were
intractable. Prying fingers could loose no knots, and cramps in the back
of the legs were the answer to struggle. Knotted to the bed-frame by her
neck, Stacy did not dare move around too much, for she could see that
falling off the bed could mean death for her.
In the total darkness, sounds of weeping subsided, and sleep overtook
the pair in spurts, with occasional waking to the pain of the bonds and
the depression of this cruel imprisonment.
After many hours their prison door opened with a clang. Stacy craned
her neck to see who entered. It was Fernando, carrying a knife! “Ten
prisa!”, he whispered sharply to Katrina. He cut loose the rope from her
ankles, rubbed her legs to her hands, and then cut her wrist and neck
bonds. She quickly rubbed tortured wrists, and, stumbling a little, went
to help him loose Stacy. She did not bother to remove her own ball-gag.
They quickly knifed the thin cord around the legs of Stacy, and then
they cut the cord from Stacy’s neck to the bed frame very close to the
bed, leaving them a handle by which to lead her. Her hands were not
loosed. Stacy wondered about her disposition. Was this an escape
attempt? She supposed that it was. Maybe they were leaving her bound
because they did not want her to blow their escape, and maybe she was
bound because she was still contracted for it. At any rate, she wished
that she had been freed as Katrina had. She did not have a lot to say
about it right now.
As the two hustled her out of the dark cell, she saw a guard lying on
the floor with blood flowing from his head, and she surmised that Fernando
had prevailed over him. After several turns, they ran into another guard,
and Fernando quickly dispatched him with his knife. Stacy’s heart was
racing with the danger, but she was dragged and pushed through a door to
the outside. The jeep that they had arrived in was outside, and the key
was in it. Fernando motioned that Katrina should put Stacy in the front
seat, and as he ran around to he driver’s seat, he threw her a length of
rope. Fernando started the jeep as Katrina, still gagged herself,
forcefully tied off Stacy’s ankles, and moved into the backseat.
Stacy looked into the backseat as Fernando drove wildly off, with no
pursuit to see Katrina struggling with the strap on her ball gag, and
having very little success. Fernando also looked back and asked, “Esta’
cerrado con llave?”
Katrina, bouncing back and forth in the backseat, nodded. Her ball
gag had been locked on behind her neck! She leaned forward, and held the
shoulders of Stacy so she would not fall out.
They had made their escape.

Male domination story

Administrator — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 14:11:39 +0000

This is the story of one of the strangest sexual experiences I
have ever had. It all began about four years ago when Bridget and I were
going out. We used to fuck all the time and that part of our
relationship was good. However, we both were young, and we both had
roving eyes, and by the time we broke up, we were anything but friends,
in fact, he damned well hated one another.
Bridget was about five foot eight inches and about 125 pounds.
She had long auburn hair and was athletically inclined. Her tits were
not bad, but her ass was magnificent. Every time we’d get naked and I’d
see that ass of hers, it would make my mouth water and my dick get
incredibly hard. She used to suck my cock and tease it, getting me to
the absolute brink of pleasure before finally and mercifully releasing
the flood of jism from my throbbing cock.
Well, as I said, we didn’t like each other at all after our
break-up, and I hadn’t seen her for about two years. I had heard that
she got involved in the feminist movement and was big into teaching
self-defense classes to women.
It was on a Friday night, and I had been out drinking at my
favorite watering hole, and I was not having much luck with the local
ladies when I spied Bridget sitting with a group of her friends. She was
laughing and talking and drinking beer. A lot of beer by the looks of
her crowd. She saw me and half smiled and said something to the girl
next to her, and her face got red, and she laughed along with Bridget.
“Hey wimpy boy!” she said in a loud and drunken manner. This
really surprised me, and pissed me off as well, because although I’m no
body builder, I’m certainly anything but a wimp. “Hey little dick!” she
called, and her friend laughed even more.
I tried to ignore her. There was no point in arguing with a
drunken bitch anyway, but this wouldn’t do for her, and she got up from
the table and came up to me. “I always thought that this was a classy
place.” she said. “I wonder why they let little wimps like you in here.”
she said. Her eyes were full of contempt and at that point, I had about
enough of her bullshit.
“Listen you filthy little slut,” I said, “Bitches like you
should be out in the parking lot sucking cocks for nickels rather than
hanging out in here with regular people! Why don’t you go outside and
fuck yourself!” I said with malice and anger in my voice.
“Listen little dick,” she said, her eyes filled with rage. “If I
go out in the parking lot, I’m gonna take you out there and kick your
slimy little ass!”
I just laughed at her. What an arrogant bitch! I have never
struck a woman before, and frankly, I didn’t want to start now, even
though, she deserved it, and furthermore, had she been a man, I would
have flattened her.
“Piss on you!” I said, “You’re not worth the time! I’d
personally like to beat the shit out of a nasty little fuck like you,
but I’ll be damned if you’re worth going to jail for! You’re certainly
not worth humiliating here in public, and besides, I like to hang out
here, and don’t want to get thrown out!”
She just looked at me. Finally, she said, “Listen little dick,
If you think your man enough to take me on, why don’t you come back to
my house. It’ll be just you and me, and I’ll teach you a lesson you
won’t soon forget. We’ll see who pisses on who!”
By this time I was really pissed off, an quickly agreed. She
told me where she was living, and we both hurriedly left the bar for her
house. I was somewhat apprehensive about it on the way over. I thought
that maybe when I got there that she’d have some big muscle-bound stud
living there that would take me apart, but when we got to her house, all
the lights were off and there were no other cars.
We walked into her house and she didn’t say a word. She led me
to the basement door and we walked down. When I got to the bottom of the
stairs, I was amazed at what I saw. There was a wrestling mat and
aerobic workout equipment all about. She went to the fridge and pulled
out two quart bottles of beer. She gave me one and then opened the other
for herself.”I don’t even want to drink from the same bottle as you,
“she said, “It’s gonna be good to kick your ass!” I said, and laughed to
myself at this stupid bitches arrogance.
After that, she sat there is stony silence and drank her beer,
never even looking at me and never saying a word. Finally, she chugged
the last of her beer, and lit up a cigarette. Fixing her gaze at me, she
took a long drag and exhaled. She had a look in her eyes like she was
trying to decide what to do. Finally she said, “Well, I’m gonna go and
get naked. I always like kicking guys asses when I’m naked. You can wear
where what you want, although I’m sure you don’t have the guts to try
and fight me naked with your little weenie exposed.” To me, that was
enough. “I’ll kick your little sluttish ass!” I said. And with that she
disappeared into another room.
When she came out she was quite naked, and so was I. I must
admit, I was truly amazed. Her body was sculpted into a perfect form,
and there wasn’t an once of fat on her entire body. She approached me
and slapped me in the face, hard. I was enraged, and charged at her with
all my force. She merely sidestepped me, and kicked me in the ass as I
went by. I regained my composure and turned to face her only to be
confronted by a karate style kick right to my unprotected stomach.
The wind was knocked right out of me and I found myself lying
gasping for breath on the mat. She was on me like a tiger and
immediately wrapped her long muscular legs around my stomach in a
scissors hold. She locked her legs at the ankles and squeezed with all
her might. “This is way too easy!” she laughed. “What kind of a man are
you, anyway, letting a weak woman like myself dominate you? Aren’t you
ashamed to be humiliated by a mere woman?” she said scornfully as she
kept applying the pressure to my stomach. Finally, I could take no more,
and cried out my surrender, but that didn’t faze her a bit. I couldn’t
breath and could feel myself passing out. The last thing I remembered
is seeing her smile and fading to black.
When I awoke, I was worried. I found myself spread eagle,
handcuffed and legcuffed to four posts that surrounded the wrestling
mat. I looked around, only to see Bridget drinking a beer,and smoking a
cigarette. “I see your awake now, little dick.” she said. “I think by
the time were done, you’ll have a better respect for the superiority of
women!” With that, she walked over to where I lay and squatted over my
face. I could see her brown pussy hair, and smell the female musk of her
cunt. Her pussy lips were parted and I could feel the heat radiating
from her cunt. “I want you to look at my cunt.” she said, in a quiet yet
resolved voice. “Look at it and see what your master really is.” With
that, her pussy lips parted, and a couple of drops of pee dripped down
on my face. Suddenly, a spurt of her hot piss flooded my face. “I told
you we’d find out who’d be pissing on who!” she laughed. She was still
smoking the cigarette, and took a long drag. She exhaled, blowing the
smoke down at me as I laid helpless under her pussy. She then released
another strong stream of piss on my face, this time starting and
stopping over and over to let me get the full effect of what she was
doing. “Lick my pussy!” she said. “Fuck you!” I said. “Listen, little
dick.” she said with a slight smile, “You’ll eat my pussy and do
everything exactly as I say, or I’ll give you such pain, you’ll wish you
were dead!” she said.
With that, she took her burning cigarette, which by this time
was down to the butt, and held it right under my balls. I could feel the
heat, but it was not quite enough to cause me pain, yet. Finally, she
just touched the coal of the cigarette to my balls. I screamed in pain,
and she just laughed. She then pulled back and again squatted over my
face. “Are you gonna lick my pussy now, or do I have to burn your ugly
balls again.” she said. She then got up and lit another cigarette, and
again blowing the smoke down at me said, “Or we could just play this
game for a while.”
At this point I realized that I’d better do as she said.
“Alright, you win.” I said,with resignment. “Of course I win, I always
win, especially when dealing with little wimps like you!” she said
disdainfully. With that she sat down on my face hard. Her pussy now
tasted salty from the pee with the distinct aroma of an aroused Bridget.
“Lick my cunt!” she said. “Don’t miss a spot or you’ll pay for it!” I
licked for all I was worth, as she kept rising and falling, her ass and
cunt bouncing on my face.
Her pussy was getting wetter, and I could taste her cunt juices
much more than I could taste the pee. She started moaning louder and
louder, all the time pressing her cunt down harder and harder. Finally,
she came in great heaving waves, her cunt juices flowing as her cunt
spasmed one last time. Spent, she sat there, her full weight for a
moment on my face.
Finally, she got to her feet. She was unsteady on them, spent
from her intense orgasm. During all of this,and to my great surprise, I
found myself getting intensely aroused. I had never been treated this
way before, and had always been the dominant one in all my
relationships. She now looked at me and my raging hard-on. “Well look at
this!” she said. “Looks like little dick likes having a woman humiliate
him. I’ll bet he even liked having me piss all over his ugly little
face!” With that she sat astride me facing backwards, her asshole right
in my face. She started to stroke my cock, which was swelling more and
more. I could smell her asshole and the mixture of her womanly juices
and her musty pee. “Lick my asshole you worthless fuck!” she said. I
immediately obeyed as she stroked away at my cock. My arousal grew with
each stroke as I could feel an intense orgasm building within; an orgasm
unlike any I have or would ever experience. I was about two seconds away
from shooting, when she turned around and squatted over my cock. I could
feel the tension rising and rising. I looked up at her face and she
strained for a second and then let loose a forceful, burning hot stream
of piss on my cock. With that, my cock exploded sending a stream of cum
so hard, that it landed on my face and hair.
She stopped peeing and moved her cunt up over my face.”Open your
mouth.” she said. Only now, the hard tones had gone out of her voice.
Her voice was softer, more gentle, yet it still had authority to it. I
did as I was told and she put her cunt over my mouth. She peed slowly
into my mouth. “Make sure you swallow it all!” she said as the pee
flowed freely into my mouth and down my throat. With all the beer she
had drank, she peed what seemed like about thirty seconds, and when the
last drops came, she sort of smiled. She then released me from my bonds,
but I was too spent to resist, and somehow the anger had passed.
It was at that time, I realized that a big change had come over
both of us. I now longed for her dominance, and I knew at that moment
that I was destined to be her slave. “I long to serve.” said I, “I long
to be completely yours, and do your bidding.” A look came over her face.
A changed look. ” Well then, a slave you shall be, but remember, the
slightest disobedience shall be met with instant chastisement. You will
pleasure me whenever I want, and I will use you as a human toilet. You
will drink my pee, eat my cunt, be my footstool, and respond to my
slightest whim. Do you accept this?”
“Yes I said!” She just kind of half smiled, and lit up another
cigarette.

That Comes In Handy

Administrator — Tue, 23 Oct 2007 14:57:25 +0000

Across Birmingham’s downtown, through the center of the city,
you are topless and smiling. My pants are undone, and a less-than
throbbing penis slumbers in the midday sun. Traffic is all around
us. Your shorts are draped demurely across your lap, hiding fingers
tickling a sparse bush and eager lips. Not so much to go to climax,
more like idling and enjoying the feeling of slick lips and warmth.

“Hungry?”
“Yes, very. I’d like something to eat, first, though…”

Off the freeway at the next exit ramp is a Roy Rogers. Perfect.
We are fourth in line at the drive thru.

“Don’t you want to get covered up?” I ask.
“Why? I have nothing to hide. In fact,” as you climb into the
front seat next to me, “this might be kind of fun.”

Uh-oh. A girl’s voice asking for our order. We proceed. Some
people around, but no one looks our way. My heart beats a tad
quicker. Your nipples rise to the occasion, too.

Third in line. Still time to get dressed. Nothing.

Second. A nervous glance to me. Still time. Nothing.

“That’ll be 6 dollars and…” the clerk pauses, staring at you
mostly. A large grin on your face. Then she stares at me. A
grin on my face as I hand her a ten. Food and change come back
to me as her gaze locks on your breasts.

“Like ‘em?” you ask.
“Yes, I hope mine are that big when I get older.”
“They are very nice…and sensitive, too. Watch.” For the next
minute, both hands lift and caress each lovely breast for our
junior partner. I glance at her, watching your every move.
A horn from behind derails our little scene.
“Thanks for stopping. Hope to see you again real soon.”
We drive off. Peals of laughter fill the van.
“Why did you do that?”
“I thought it would be fun. I was watching her mouth. It was
opening and closing…kind of when you got your first French kiss…
it looked like she wanted to suck on me for a moment there…
Jeez, that was dangerous…and FUN!”
“You’re becoming quite the exhibitionist today. Here’s your
lunch.”
“You can’t say you didn’t enjoy it. Look at your dick.” He has
risen to the occasion with quivering and a full head.

US331 into southern Alabama. Two lane road that turns a bit. No
one will bother us for a while.

“Ketchup for your fries?” I offer.
“Thanks. But mine are all gone. Can I have some of yours?”
“Sure. Help yourself.” A hand moves to the fries between my
thighs and drifts across the slumbering penis. An accident?
Perhaps. I think nothing of it. Still, the way your bosom sways
as you reach for more fries does waken him. I feel moisture there
as a ketchup pack pops, and I look down to see cold condiments
poured all over the head and shaft and bush.
“Gollee, that’s cold!”
“Here, let me clean that up for you. I don’t know _what_ happened
there. It _must_ have been an accident.” I hear the humor and
feel the flat of your tongue wrap around the side of my soft dick
from bush to head. Your breath warms the flesh and tickles my
brain with the promise of your moist mouth again.
“Got any more ketchup? This could be fun.”
I rummage for some more, trying to keep on the road with the effort
to locate packets and not pass out with the tongue lashing you are
giving me. Three more packets appear and disappear, coating my
quivering tool. Your tongue now slips down to probe my balls.
They squirm with the sensation. I groan with the feeling. My
free hand seeks again the pendulous breasts that brush my thigh.
Then they seek the globes of your rear. Middle finger in the
cleft and other fingers on either side. Your mouth leaves my
dick alone, and rolls to look forward, enjoying the attention.
I am inches away from your garden. I plan to stay away so as
to tease you. Now you do a half-roll and sit across both seats,
inviting my hands to sample your body front. What a feast. Would
that I could consume you all day and night.

Florida border. Now about an hour away. My hands have been busy
in their drifting from breast to nipple to nipple to breast to clit
to lips to thighs to stomach to deep inside and back to breast again.
It must feel like one large hand is touching you all over. I see you
push whatever part of your body is being touched, into my hand, wanting
the most in contact. I am eager to help but refuse to let my hands
caress you too hard. One of your hands has snaked around my hard dick
and is stroking slowly. Not to climax, but just to enjoy the sensation.
The familiar ache of balls ready to shoot builds as it has for the last
30 miles. It’s unbearable.

We both smell the ocean as we pull onto county road 30. Hands leave
genitals as you sit up and look at small waves rolling onto white
sand. Beaches are deserted but for a few snowbirds (older folk who
winter in FL).
“Here we are” as we pull into the condo’s driveway. This place is
REALLY deserted. Not a car for some time.
I marvel at your nude form as you walk brazenly into the carport and
open the door. Did you wink? I believe you did and a hand drifts to
your sex.
“Want to play?”
“Why do you think I’m warming myself up like this? Get inside here.”
I’m no fool. I chase you inside and wrap you in my arms, pulling all
of you into me. My tongue finds your mouth wanting mine, and they
touch. My hands grab both cheeks and weld your hips to my straining
member. I feel moisture on your bush. From me or you? I taste your
warm breath as the excitement builds.
You look around. “Where’s the bed? Over there?” as you lead me by
the dick, stroking me all the while. “Lie down, honey. I’m gonna
give you the ride of your life.” My pants and shirt are off in a flash,
and my dick is pressed between my hips and your wet sex. Your hand
goes between and erects my erection to part your lips. I look down.
With a dainty grip, my head is swallowed by two puffy, rosy lips, then
grasped by your opening. We are joined, but in the shortest way.

Now your hips roll in a small circle. I glance down and see your
garden slowly consume the stalk. It’s very slow and grueling work,
but a smile passes your lips. You look down for a progress report.
I take the opportunity to give your sensitive nipples a finger massage.
This pulls your head back, and both your hands cover mine and pull
them into your breasts, contacting all the flesh they can. Almost
all the way in…I feel the tips of your pubic hairs moving mine.
I rotate my hips from side to side as you start a front-to-back motion.
I can only guess what this does to your clit. I pull my hands from
beneath yours and replace your fingers to surround your turgid nipples.
My hands then resume their roaming, trying to touch all you at once.
My balls ache more with the release. Wetness covers my dick and sac
and starts to soak my bush. I feel a furnace around my twitching
dick.

“Wait. Butt cramp.” I freeze, as do you, as pain sears from my
rear end. You roll off with hands still tweaking two stiff nipples.
“Let me on top for a while” I ask. Thighs part wide for an answer.
My cock finds the bottom of you on the initial plunge. Now I can
give your clit the attention it deserves. I press both our bones
together slowly and trap your mound inbetween, rolling it with my
hips from side to side. Your hips rise and fall with the pleasure.
All thoughts of the cramp fade as my climax approaches. Now I slide
in and out with deep thrusts quicker and quicker enjoying the sensation
of wet and heat and squeezing and slickness and my balls move up and
my feet clench and my chest presses into yours and tension all through
my body and my dickhead swells up even more and two more thrusts and
I hold my cock deep in you and quiver as jet after jet of hot cum
shoot from me into your warm sex and now back to thrusting as the
initial onslaught brings still more cum from me and I slowly return
and remember that you haven’t come yet and I hold all my muscles tight
to stay hard for you and thrust some more against your mound ahhhhhh
that’s the right spot and you’re meeting all my thrusts and your hands
pull me into you and I press harder into you and is it possible that
I could come again yess yesssss I feel the welling up and the hardness
again and you feel it too with wide eyes staring into me the grasping
of your orgasm pulls cum from my dick again and goosebumps cover you
as we both collapse from the effort and sated sexual parts.

I lie on you with my flaccid penis halfway inside your palacial sex.
I’d like to stay hard enough to spend the day inside you. I reach down
and bring your breast to my lips and lick the softening nipple.
Sex with you is so good. I am jealous of your capacity. You probably
could go all night long
“That was a first for me…twice in rapid succession. You are a woman
of uncommon passion and love.”
“How did you do it? I mean, stay hard like that? It was wonderful
…you staying hard like that for me. THAT could come in handy
later on.”
I roll off and look at you. Warm brown skin. Bosom rising and falling
with each breath. Sparse bush covering a puffy pair of lips. Thighs
spread to receive the lover. Pink lips parted for a passionate kiss.
And the eyes, looking deep into mine with passion and contentment.
Lips press lips, and tongues gingerly touch ever so softly. Eyes close,
then open again to stare into mine. Your hand snakes down and closes
on my soft dick. It stays soft, despite your talented hand.

“No more for now for this guy. I need a little break. Let’s get dressed
and unpacked, and check out the beach. Think of this as a reconnaisance
run for later pleasures.”
“Deal” you say. It is going to be a fun week.

Telepathy Ability

Administrator — Sun, 12 Aug 2007 16:00:06 +0000

I strolled into the gym, dressed in shorts and a ragged old
T-shirt. People were drifting in, gathering for the fitness
class scheduled to begin in a few minutes. The norms scattered
around the floor stretching and loosening up were fit and
healthy-looking; I’d selected an advanced class for my day’s
recreation. The women, who outnumbered the men by a
considerable margin, were generally dressed in body-hugging
clothing. Spandex was common among the men, too; they mostly
seemed to be of that irritating Serious Exerciser type, anxious
that their clothing should state, “Hey, I do this all the time.”
“Norms?” Normals, you know; people who *can’t* impose their
will on other people, the way that I can. Call it projective
telepathy, call it what you will. How’d I get to be this way?
That’s not a subject I care to discuss, for reasons I’m also not
interested in pursuing. Don’t worry, though: should we ever
meet, Gentle Reader, you’ll be far too busy hastening to obey my
every command to worry about the origin of my power. Some might
say that I don’t put my powers to constructive use; they might
even go so far as to accuse me of being rather petty and
vindictive, even cruel at times. I recall a young man who said
something along those lines to me, right to my face. Poor
fellow; I may have been a bit hard on him, I must admit. I’ll
not go into the sordid details here. Hey, he’s *alive*, all
right?
I sauntered around the edge of the gym, casually checking
out the female population. Choosing the advanced workout had
been wise, I could see immediately; these women were uniformly
taut and lean, right up my alley. They invested a lot of time in
their bodies, clearly, and were interested in showing off their
well-muscled forms, chiselled out through rigorous diet and
exercise.
One young lass in particular caught my eye as she bent over
and stretched, and I headed towards her. Before I reached her,
however, a couple of macho-male jock types crossed my path,
talking loudly and not watching where they were going. The one
in front collided with me quite solidly, his shoulder meeting
mine and knocking me off balance for a moment.
“Hey, sorry, guy,” he boomed, slapping me on the back. They
moved past me.
“Hold on a moment,” I said. “Come back here.” They turned
around obediently and stood in front of me.
I looked them over. “I think you’re a couple of obnoxious
jock assholes. Don’t you agree?” They nodded silently. “Say
it.”
“We’re a couple of obnoxious jock assholes,” they chimed,
creating a pleasant stereo effect.
“Again, please.”
They said it again. “Well,” I said, “we’ll just have to
. . . Oh, hang on.” A few people nearby were beginning to take
notice of this little scene unfolding before them; it was time to
take care of that. *You will notice nothing unusual about
anything that may occur in this gym*, I wide-projected to
everyone in the place. I then slapped up a couple of repeating
fields over the only two doors, projecting that same command over
and over; anyone who entered would receive instructions to see
nothing peculiar. People returned to their chatting and warming
up, the behaviour of my two “friends” forgotten.
“Well,” I resumed, “we’ll just have to do something about
that, won’t we? For the next four months, I want you to do no
exercise at all, OK?”
“All right.” “Sure.”
“And twice a day you’ll be overwhelmed with a craving for
chocolate bars, ice cream, potato chips, that sort of thing. See
if you can gain fifty or sixty pounds for me, will you? And lose
all that nasty muscle tone. Do you guys have girlfriends?” They
both nodded. “Do you have sex with them often?”
“Every couple days.” “Twice a week, maybe.”
I smiled. “You’ll be impotent with them for the next four
months. No, make it six months, and make it with everyone, not
just them. Now, what’s the most expensive item you own?”
“My stereo system.” “My computer.”
“Why don’t you go home right now and smash those up for me?
After you’ve made sure the things are destroyed, you’ll have no
idea why you did it, all right? Forget about me, except that you
will of course keep following my orders. Go.”
They wandered off, wearing that amusingly puzzled look norms
tend to get when can sense that they’re about to do something
tremendously foolish, but have no idea why, and even less idea
what to do about it. I laughed aloud. You norms bring me no end
of amusement, you really do. Such a vast pool of things to play
with, and all of them without the most elementary of mental
defences.
My petty revenge having been exacted – yes, I admit it, but
I don’t let anyone else say such things – I continued towards the
girl. She wore pink leggings, with a black leotard. The leotard
plunged into a thong in back, emphasizing her firm ass underneath
the clingy pink material. Her breasts were rather large; the bra
that held them up was clearly visible in outline under the
leotard’s fabric.
I strolled up and placed a hand on her butt. She turned her
head to look casually over her shoulder at me, not finding this
unusual, of course; her gaze was just mildly curious.
“You don’t mind,” I said. Not a question.
“No, of course not.” She returned to her conversation with
two of her friends, neither of whom remarked upon my presence.
I ran both hands over that tight ass, then down her long,
muscular legs, enjoying the feel of her body.
“This is getting you turned on,” I informed her. I ran my
hands back up one leg, then brushed lightly over her cunt with my
fingertips. She gasped. I continued upwards, over her flat
stomach, to her breasts. Her nipples were large and hard,
perceptible even through two layers of material. She moaned
slightly as my hands moved over her.
I moved behind her and hugged her to me, moving one hand
over her tummy and the other over her tits. I could feel the
flesh of her ass pressing against my erection as I buried my face
in her long blond hair, pleased by the scent of it. I rubbed my
hard-on against her, and she moved her hips against me in
response. She had dropped out of the conversation by this point,
her level of excitement having rendered it difficult for her to
speak.
A female voice rang out from the opposite side of the gym.
“Just about a minute ’til we get started, everybody! Just let me
get the music set up . . .” The aerobics instructor had
obviously arrived while I had been distracted. I caught a
glimpse of her through the crowd. Holy smokes! Definitely
worthy of closer investigation.
But before I moved on, this lovely thing I was touching had
earned a bit of a reward. “You’re about to have an orgasm,” I
whispered in her ear. “3, 2, 1 . . . Now.” I felt her spasm
against me, and she let out a low cry. “Again, 3, 2, 1 . . .
Now. And again, 3, 2, 1 . . . Now. Have a nice day.” I left
her there, her face contorted with pleasure as the multiple
climaxes peaked and died away. See? I have my moments of
generosity, spreading a little joy in this dark and sad world.
Well, I’m *told* it’s dark and sad, anyway; I hadn’t really
noticed, myself.
The instructor was a truly spectacular specimen, I found
when I approached. She wore an all white outfit, leotard over
leggings; her body definitely did not need the concealing effect
of darker colours. Her breasts were of a medium size, not large,
but wonderfully well-shaped and very firm. Her arms were slender
yet toned. The flat panels of her stomach were outlined by the
leotard, as were the strong muscles of her long legs. Even her
ass was well-muscled.
She had a very pretty face, I noticed at last, and was
flashing a beautiful smile at some of the regulars as she cued up
her workout tape. Her hair was long and shiny black, tied back
in a cute ponytail. There was not an ounce of excess flesh
anywhere to be seen; her small, compact body was taut as a drum
all over.
“Wow,” I said. The word just slipped out, I was so taken
with her. She turned briefly and looked at me, then returned to
what she was doing. Under other circumstances, she might have
thought it unusual to see a guy standing up close to her, an
obvious erection poking at the front of his shorts, staring at
her body and practically drooling.
She brushed past me and jogged lightly to the centre of the
floor. God, she moved like a cat! No, like a tiger, long
muscles flowing under the skin. This, I thought, promises to be
fun!
The class got started, the instructor leading them through
some light stretching and other warm-up exercises. It was a
fair-sized crowd for the relatively small gymnasium, perhaps
fifty or sixty in all, among whom I counted about ten men. I
didn’t bother joining in; I just stood near the edge of the gym
and watched the woman in the centre. I found that a few
aerobicisers were impeding my view of her; I projected a command
that a clear aisle was to be maintained for me at all times.
After a few minutes the main aerobic segment began, complex
combinations of knee raises, leg lifts, stride jumps, and so on,
moving back and forth across the gym. As she led the class, the
teacher would change positions from time to time, moving out of
the centre to the front or the back. Many of the exercisers got
an extra workout while hustling to keep from moving between me
and her. Everyone was constantly checking – quite unaware that
they were doing it – to make sure that my line of sight was
clear.
There was a great deal of bouncing going on, and I was
enjoying watching the leader as she ricocheted around the room
with apparently limitless energy. But perhaps I could enjoy this
just a little bit more, I thought, if . . .
*Everyone make sure that you’re doing the same thing the
instructor is doing at all times*, I wide-projected. I turned my
attention to the current object of my desire. *That leotard is
quite itchy*, I sent to her. *Your breasts feel all
uncomfortable, and they’re too confined in there.*
As she performed the movements of the routine, her hands
started to dart up to brush her tits, futilely scratching an itch
that would not go away until I willed it. She also tugged at the
straps of her outfit, trying to loosen it for comfort. I was
amused to see the movements echoed all around the room, men and
women scratching their chests and pulling on their clothing.
*You’ll stop itching and feeling all bound up if you just
push your top down a bit*, I projected. *Go ahead.*
While still doing knee lifts, she reached up and eased the
straps of her leotard off her shoulders, peeling it down to her
waist. She wore a simple white sports bra underneath. Her smile
grew wider with relief, and she threw herself into the next set
of moves with great enthusiasm.
*The bra, too. Throw it to the edge of the gym.* She
reached behind her and unfastened it, then threw it off to one
side. A hail of bras followed as the rest of the class imitated
her.
The instructor’s breasts, now bouncing free, were topped by
small but prominent nipples. Looking around, I was greeted by
the pleasant sight of a sea of bare-chested women. The men were
bare-chested as well; they were looking around too, not finding
the situation unusual but certainly appreciating it.
*Why not get rid of the whole leotard? Just toss it.*
She had to stop moving for a moment to accomplish this.
Stepping quickly out of it, she threw the leotard – surprisingly
small when not filled by a body – to the edge of the gym. This
left her clad only in her white leggings, which ran from her
knees up to her waist, where they rode low on her hips. Again, a
flurry of clothing from the class soon joined hers. The men shed
their shorts or spandex tights, and continued to work out in
their underwear; that they were finding this an unusually
stimulating class was now quite obvious to anyone who cared to
look.
I sat down, content to just sit back and take in the scenery
for a while. The class moved on to strength exercises, pushups
and situps and other movements, all of which had interesting
effects on the anatomies of the females. Eventually they moved
on to an exercise for the inner thigh: lying on their backs with
legs straight up in the air, they lowered their legs out to the
sides, then brought them back together again. I stood up.
*Strip*, I told the instructor. *Everything off.*
She stopped what she was doing, sat up and hastily removed
her shoes and socks, then rolled the leggings down to her ankles
and slid them off. She wore nothing beneath them.
*Carry on with that exercise*, I told her. I walked up to
her through the rows of aerobicisers, all of whom were now naked.
I ran my eyes down her body as she pumped her legs up and down in
a fluid, constant motion, showing no signs of strain. The view
was impressive from where I stood near her legs, looking down at
her. It was a warm summer’s day, and a fine sheen of sweat
coated her smooth, flawless skin. To quote an old cliche: I love
exercise – I could watch it all day.
“Hold it there,” I said aloud to her, when her legs were
spread apart. She froze, legs held in that position, idly gazing
up at me. An exceptionally flexible girl, I noted; her feet came
down almost to the floor.
“What’s your name?”
“Liz,” she responded. “Liz Brimley.”
“You’re feeling pretty horny right now, aren’t you, Liz?”
She nodded, swallowing.
I touched her legs, revelling in the sensation of sliding my
hands over those muscles. Her skin was soft, and lubricated with
her own sweat. I knelt and traced them all the way down to her
pussy. After stroking her clit briefly, I brushed through the
dark pubic hair and on upwards; I could smell her arousal, now.
I continued on up, across her stomach to her breasts, which were
just as firm close up as they appeared from a distance. As I
leaned forward, my cock brushed her now wet cunt through the
fabric of my shorts. Perhaps it was time to take part in this
class myself . . .
“Um, excuse me?” A nervous voice floated across the gym
from near one of the doors.
I whirled and stood up, startled at this interruption. The
speaker, visible over a mob of people lying on their backs with
their legs spread, was a short, balding man somewhere in his mid-
forties. He walked towards me. I was temporarily speechless, an
exceedingly rare condition for me.
“Ah, excuse me,” he repeated. “I, um, was just wondering
if . . . Well, if this . . .” He indicated the gym with a wave
of his hand. “If this is . . . I can’t seem to find anything
unusual about it, but I feel sure that . . . Well, I mean, is
this *proper*, do you think? I mean, should you be . . .”
“Shut up,” I told him, cutting off his ramblings. “Who the
*fuck* are you?”
“I’m Bill Chesterton. I’m the administrator of the athletic
complex, here, and I was just passing by when I looked in and
saw . . .”
“Shut up.” I was puzzled by friend Bill’s apparent
resistance. Probing him, I found a rather distracted, fuzzy
mind, cluttered with vague, shifting thoughts. His mind was so
muddled that it felt . . . well, “slippery” is the nearest word I
can find. His absentmindedness was serving him as a sort of
shield, I concluded; my orders were partially obscured in the
general static, allowing him to perceive something as being out
of the ordinary in the gym.
Well, that was all right. I’d been worried there, for a
moment, that I’d encountered a new breed of norm, somehow immune
to my influence. He had resisted – mainly by accident – a
sustaining field, but surely he could not hold out against more
direct orders?
“Bill, old buddy,” I said, putting an arm around his
shoulders. “See that young lady right there?” I indicated a
young Asian woman, lying of course with her legs spread apart.
He nodded. “I’d like you to lick her, right there between her
legs. Go ahead, Bill, lick her cunt.”
“All right.” He knelt down without hesitation and started
in on the girl.
I watched him for a moment. It occurred to me that I should
have been more cautious in ensuring my privacy – a lesson for the
future. For now, I set up additional fields, surrounding the
doors and extending out away from them in a wide semicircle,
projecting a command: *Go away, and don’t come back here before
tomorrow.*
Bill continued to slurp away, rather noisily. The girl’s
forehead furrowed slightly from time to time; her brain was
obviously beginning to have just a bit of difficulty with the
assertion that having inept oral sex performed on her by a pudgy
balding man was nothing that she ought to find unusual in an
aerobics class. These twinges were only intermittent, however,
and the rest of the time she lay there contentedly, gazing
incuriously around the room.
“Stand up, Bill,” I instructed. He did so, and stood there
looking at me. “Wet your pants.”
A dark stain spread out from the crotch of his grey slacks.
A small puddle formed on the floor as the warm liquid dripped
down his leg.
Now, what to do with Bill? Something unfortunate really
ought to happen to someone who had given me such a start, but
what? Ah . . .
“You,” I said, pointing at the Asian woman. “What’s your
name?”
“Vicky Chan.”
“Find your stuff and get dressed, Vicky.” As she moved to
do so, I turned my attention back to Bill. “Are you married,
Bill?”
“Yes.”
“Happily? Ever fool around, ever cheat?”
“No, I would never do that.”
I smiled. “Never say never, Billy. By the way, you’ve made
a bit of a mess on the floor, there. Someone ought to clean that
up, don’t you think?”
“Yes, of course. The janitorial staff will . . .”
I cut him off. “Why don’t you do it? In fact, why don’t
you lick it up for me, right now?” He got down on his knees and
started lapping away.
When Vicky returned, dressed simply in grey bicycle shorts
and a black T-shirt, Bill was just getting back to his feet.
“Bill, meet Vicky, your new mistress. The two of you are
going to have an affair, starting today. Once a week you’ll get
together and have wild, passionate sex. You’ll have to hide this
from your wife, of course, and you’ll feel terribly guilty about
cheating on her, but you won’t be able to help yourself, you’ll
be so addicted to the sex.
“You’re going to spend outrageous amounts of money on Vicky,
bringing her expensive presents every time you meet, jewellery,
clothes, that sort of thing. Ask her what she wants. After
about four months, oops! Your wife is going to find out. You’ll
start to make mistakes, to make little slips that will eventually
allow her to figure out what’s going on. Do you understand?”
The two of them nodded.
I pulled Vicky aside and spoke to her separately. “Have you
got a boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
“Well, there’s no need for any of this to affect your
relationship with him. Don’t tell him about your sugar daddy
over there. And you’re going to enjoy fucking Bill, I promise.
No matter what he does, you’ll get very turned on and have a
terrific orgasm at the same time that he does, all right?”
I pulled Vicky over to Bill and slid her arm around his
waist. “OK you two, run along now, off to your first date. Oh,
and Bill, if this little incident doesn’t bankrupt you and break
up your marriage, pick up a hooker somewhere and do it again.
And again. And don’t go around bothering telepaths, you
miserable shit.”
I projected the standard command to them: don’t remember me,
but keep obeying the orders. The two walked away, Bill gazing
adoringly – and lustfully – at the woman clinging to him.
I turned back to Liz, who lay still in the same position.
“Stand up,” I ordered. She climbed to her feet.
“Undress me.”
I held my arms up to allow her to pull off my T-shirt. She
then unlaced my shoes and removed them, tugged off my socks, and
slid my shorts down to my ankles. I hadn’t bothered with
underwear; my erect penis bounced free as she pulled off the
shorts. All around us, like so many marionettes, the class
engaged in an elaborate mime performance, undressing an invisible
man.
“I’m pretty sexy, don’t you think? In fact, I think that
I’m about the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. You’re
unbelievably turned on just looking at me, aren’t you?”
Liz nodded, and looked me up and down, slowly. Her eyes
kept returning to my cock. Her tongue frequently darted out to
moisten her lips. I rocked my hips back and forth a bit, causing
my hard-on to swing from side to side; her eyes followed it. One
of her hands moved between her legs, and she began to stroke
herself.
When I looked around the gym, I laughed aloud; the entire
class was doing it! I had a sudden image of her trying to lead
the class members through the procedure: “Now, this next
exercise . . .”
“You’d like me to fuck you, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” she sighed.
“Tell me what you’d like me to do,” I ordered.
“I want you to fuck me. I want you to touch me all over, to
touch my tits, to lick me. I want to touch your cock, to suck on
it, to feel it in my hands. I want to feel it inside me, your
long, hard cock thrusting into me. I want . . .”
I waved her to silence. “Maybe later.” For the moment, I
had other plans.
“Go get me one of those mats,” I told Liz. She jogged
gracefully over to the corner where the mats were piled. The
entire group turned and ran with her in unison, and the corner
became rather choked with bodies as the nearest people crowded
into it with her. As Liz came back bearing a mat, the class
spread out again.
I put the mat on the floor and lay down on it, projecting
commands to Liz. I had her rub her breasts over me, running her
nipples over my skin. She held herself up as though she were
doing a pushup on those strong arms, and started at my face, then
moved backwards, brushing her breasts over my chest and stomach.
As she went, she rubbed her wet, hot pussy against me, brushing
my stomach, then sliding it down my leg. She moved still lower,
and I sighed with pleasure as she rubbed those perfectly formed
tits, slick with sweat, over my already tremendously aroused
cock. Next, at my suggestion, she tickled my balls with her
thatch of pubic hair, then rubbed her bush lightly against my
cock, down at the base.
Now, norms under my influence tend to become very hesitant
about doing things that I have not specifically ordered; this is
why, for example, Liz hadn’t rushed forward and jumped me when I
was telling her to be fascinated with my body. This effect was
operating again at the moment. As she was teasing my cock,
holding herself on her arms with her back arched up – I was
enjoying the view – I could sense from Liz a very strong impulse
that she was keeping suppressed. She desperately wanted to just
slide up a ways, spread her legs and pull me inside her, despite
the risk of pregnancy or sexually transmitted disease.
I wasn’t about to allow her to give in to that particular
impulse, however. I hadn’t brought appropriate protection, and
why would I want to run the risk of messing up a killer bod like
hers with a pregnancy? There’d be plenty of time later for other
activities; I’d already decided that Liz would be coming home
with me. I have a touch of the collector’s bug in me, and she
was certainly a prize worth adding to my collection.
“Give me a blow job,” I said. The idea excited her, but
there was a twinge of disappointment as she slid her crotch away
from mine.
A long, pleasurable time later, I was still lying on the
mat, subject to Liz’s tender ministrations. She was very good at
it, especially once I gave her free rein to improvise rather than
simply following directions. I’d enlisted a couple of other
young women, too, pulled at random from the crowd, the rest of
whom were on their hands and knees, sucking and licking the air.
One girl was sucking on my nipples, teasing them with her tongue,
while the other knelt behind my head and leaned down to nibble at
my earlobes.
Liz could sense that I was close to orgasm, and she closed
her mouth over the tip of my penis and began to suck on it, hard.
My arousal built up and up, and shortly I came, crying out as the
pleasure coursed through me.
When I was young, before I had learned control of my talent,
I would tend to “leak” thoughts or emotions, especially when my
attention was distracted. On several occasions, whole apartment
buildings found themselves suddenly getting off – no doubt to the
great embarrassment of many – as I had an orgasm and projected
that intensity blindly outwards. I’ve since learned to control
it.
Here in the gym, though, I deliberately projected my
pleasure out to the crowd, so that as I came there was a rising
chorus of moans, groans and sighs as sixty-some people abruptly
climaxed simultaneously. Liz, who had already been in a highly
aroused state, had a particularly intense orgasm, bucking wildly
as she swallowed my semen.
I sat up languorously, a contented half-smile on my face. I
looked around. *Lick up anything you may have spilled, kids*, I
projected. The males dropped to all fours and started to clean
the floor with their tongues. No sense confusing the janitors
any more than necessary, I figured.
I told Liz to get dressed, and in short order the class was
once again fully clad. Time to clean up after myself a little
bit.
“Go into your cool-down routine,” I suggested. I rid the
class of their compulsion to copy her movements exactly, and told
them to forget everything that had just occurred. They would
remember an ordinary aerobics class, instead. I took down the
fields around the doors, cancelled the order to perceive nothing
unusual, and drifted to the back of the class. Standing at the
back, just watching as everyone else did cool-down stretches, I
attracted a few odd looks, which I ignored.
After a few minutes, Liz got to her feet and said, “That’s
all for today. Have a good one.” There was the traditional
post-aerobics round of applause, and the class broke up. I
smiled to myself as I heard people talking about what a good
class it had been. An exceptionally good class, from my point of
view! When the gym had mostly emptied out, I approached Liz; she
was retrieving her tapes and locking up the sound equipment.
“Ah, Ms. Brimley!” I said. “Great class, as always!”
“Thanks.”
“May I call you Liz?”
“Sure,” she said cautiously, not wanting this to turn into a
pickup attempt.
“I mean, it seems only right to be on a first name basis,
when we’ve shared so much together.” And I allowed her memory of
what had just happened in the gym to return.
Her eyes widened, and she was momentarily stunned. She then
started to take a big breath, perhaps preparing to yell something
at me.
“You’re in love with me, Liz,” I told her before she could
make a sound. “Madly, deeply, head-over-heels in love with me.
You’d do anything for me, anything at all. Why don’t you come
back to my place right now? We can talk about all the fun stuff
we’re going to do together.”
She flashed that beautiful smile at me, and said, “Let’s
go.”
We left the gym together, Liz holding my hand and babbling
happily about how devoted she was to me. My mind was buzzing
with thoughts of what to do with my new plaything when we got
home.

Bus Stop Blowjob

Administrator — Sun, 05 Aug 2007 15:23:51 +0000

I hadn’t been sitting at the bus stop long when a rather rough and muscular
man with a beard and plaid work shirt and jeans sat down next to me. It was
just beginning to get dark. The long shadows had disappeared, and the weak
light of a closed auto parts store accross the street cast a moonlike glow
over the nearby trees and shrubbery. I nervously pulled my purse nearer,
looking down.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Barbara,” I replied, my eyes glancing up at him and then back down to my
hands. His eyes had met mine for only an instant, but I could tell his gaze
had returned to examining my breasts under my red cardigan sweater. I suddenly
felt totally nude.
Reaching into my purse, I removed several Hershey’s Kisses, unwrapped one
and put it into my mouth. It was soft and sticky from the day’s heat.
“Have some,” I said, handing him two of the chocolates. As he unwrapped
one, I licked the chocolate from my fingers, looking into his eyes with my
eyebrows raised. His eyes met mine again with a smile.
“Your hands are a mess,” I said, and reached for his hand. One by one, I
placed his fingers in my mouth, first sucking and then licking away all traces
of the chocolate with my tongue. Without releasing his hand I stood, took my
purse, and led him around the bus stop bench. There was a school athletic
field here, and a tiny building for athletic equipment squeezed the loose
hedges and trees into an iron fence. In a moment we were in the
shrubbery between the fence and building.
His hands reached for me roughly, brushing the underside of my breasts, but
I placed my hands on his shoulders and pressed him unprotesting against the
wall. His eyes widened. Kneeling then, I unzipped his jeans and pulled them
and his briefs down in a single stroke. His cock swung slowly before my eyes;
I could feel its warmth radiating onto my face. Gently I cradled it in my
hands, lifting it to my mouth. I moved my tongue slowly around the tip and
then slid it in. It grew pulsatingly larger every second. Placing my hands
on his hips, I moved them around to his buns and held the loose flesh there,
moving his cock in and out. A groan escaped his lips and he placed his hand
on the nape of my neck, slowly stroking my long yellow hair from the
underside.
The pressure from his hand increased suddenly, his cock filling my throat.
His come filled my mouth, and the spasms from his groin pulsated from my head
down my spine. Swallowing, I stood and smiled at him briefly. A sound from
the street heralded the arrival of the bus. “Bye bye,” I said, slipping out
of the hedges quickly. “Barbara!” he called. I said nothing, leaving him
there frantically dressing himself.
As I stepped onto the platform of the bus, I could hear “What’s your phone
number?” faintly over the roar of the bus’ engines. Not looking back, the
doors closed behind me and the bus lurched into the deepening night.

Laundry Sex Story

Administrator — Sat, 04 Aug 2007 19:49:38 +0000

I had just finished toiling over my dirty clothes at the laundromat, and had
piled my stuff together to take home. I live only a few blocks away, and
usually walk when it is as nice outside as it was last night.

I must have looked like I was overloaded, carrying my laundry, because a
car pulled over next to me. “Do you want a ride?” said the girl behind
the seat of the purple VW Bug. Well, who am I to say no, right? So I
got in her car. “Thanks,” I said, not thinking of much else appropriate
at the time. She said, “I’m Andrea–where are we going?”

I gave her my address and of course within moments we had arrived. Andrea
asked if she could help carry anything. Well, it seemed to me like she
was already carrying herself really well. Pretty face, sandy blond hair,
a white t-shirt and denim mini-skirt, she looked pretty nice. But, who am
I to say no, right? So she carried a few of my shirts.

Walking up the stairs, I could have sworn I didn’t see any panties under-
neath her skirt, not that I was looking or anything. Hmmmm……

Well, we got into my apartment and she set my stuff down. “There you go.”

Not thinking of much else to say at the moment, but wanting to leave things
open, I said, “Thanks. What can I do to thank you?”

Well, if her nipples swelling under her t-shirt weren’t enough of a give-
away, she said, “I’m sure you can think of something.” And with that her
eyes made their way down to my crotch. This having been laundry night,
I was just wearing a t-shirt and running shorts….shorts that by now weren’t
doing a very good job of concealing a hard-on.

As her eyes returned to mine, she suddenly embraced me with a passionate
kiss. As her tounge probed my mouth, I thought again, well, who am I to say
no, right? This might be fun. And I return the thought with as much
enthusiasm as I could muster.

As my hands wandered her body, I discovered quickly that my earlier
observation had been correct–no underwear of any form. This girl had
obviously had something in mind when she stopped her car. Fine with me.

Soon I had removed what clothes she was wearing, and stopped to admire her
36C breasts with huge nipples. The rest of her body was mighty nice, too.
I really wanted to suck her breasts, but she stopped me to remove my clothes
first. Well, that didn’t take long either. And so there I was, standing
in my apartment totally naked with a girl I had met just 10 minutes before.

She was obviously studying my body, too. “Jewish, huh?” she asked, my
circumsized cock being probably the last clue anyone needs to figure that
out about me. “Yup.”

Andrea replied, “Well, I hope my pussy is kosher, then!” With that, she
dragged me to the bed, and motioned for me to lay down. Who am I to
say no?

She immediately mounted my face with her lucious pussy. I eagerly started
to suck on her clitoris and anything else my tounge could reach. I lifted
my hands up to feel her breasts, and they were as nice as I thought. Very
perky. Andrea started moaning, and started rubbing her clit as I ate her
pussy. But as hot as I was, I wanted equal treatment. “Eat me” I
commanded. So Andrea flipped around into 69 position, and immediately
engulfed my six inches. Nobody had ever deep throated me like she was
doing before, and it certainly was a turn-on for both of us. I worried for
a second that my slimy neighbor would hear our moans of passion and call the
cops. But thoughts of the beautiful love box on my mouth brought me back
to the more important reality of the situation.

Soon Andrea’s moans got louder, and I knew it was time. With two words, she
verified my thoughts: “Fuck me!” Fine with me

I got a condom out of my drawer (“Ribbed for her pleasure”), and quickly
rolled it on. A few last laps at her snatch, and I was ready. She got
back on the bed, and I teased her for a few seconds by not quite entering
her. This got me a few moans, and the next time I started in I was forced
from behind. This got a few moans from _both of us_.

I thrusted deeply and quickly, and soon Andrea was obviously nearing orgasm.
I started to nibble her ear, and this sent her over. Her moans were almost
screams, and I was sure everyone else in the building could hear us now.
Boy, was I going to get some looks! And almost as quickly as her first
orgasm subsided, she seemed to be building another. It was time for me as
well, though Andrea’s second seemed to be more important to her at the
moment, the way her nails were digging into my back. And as she finished,
she commanded “Now”, so I did. And suddenly, with one last thrust, it
was over.

After a few minutes of recovery, Andrea got up and put on what clothes
she had with her. She wrote down her phone number, and said, “Next time
you do laundry, give me a call!”