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Yesterday · length unknown
Daphne
Daphne Virgin guy gets the girl at last. Based on a post by S3lwyncd0g. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. I had no idea how much my life was about to change when I went to work that night in April 1980. I was nineteen, had no girlfriend, hell, never even been kissed. I had a job buffing floors in a department store. All the cleaning and restocking was done in the evening and right after closing. Then, after everyone was gone, I came in to do the floors. This way, no one was in my way or tracking on the floors. I would wax a different area each night and simply mop and buff all others as needed. I was going to Junior College and the store’s general manager was my Dad’s best friend and my godfather. Looking back, I was so lucky that this happened before camera surveillance systems were widespread and affordable. I stuck a tape in the cassette player in the office and it played over the store’s sound system, Kool and the Gang was my music tonight. I turned around and nearly shit my pants. Daphne, the Boss’s daughter, was right behind me, I yelped. “Sorry, Kip. Didn’t mean to scare you.” she said. “T-That’s okay,” I replied trying to calm down, “I didn’t know anyone was here.” She pointed to her Dad’s office, “Yeah, I was crashed on his sofa.” I noticed she had a sad demeanor and her hair was all mussed up. “I just didn’t feel like going home and needed someplace to sit and think,” she said and turning, walked out of the office and onto the store floor. The offices were on the second floor which also contained the Home Decor and Furnishings as well as Clothing departments. I followed her. Daphne was almost like a cousin. We’d grown up together, she was a year older than me and had been a tomboy until puberty hit her. And boy, did it hit her hard. She went from cute to hot in no time. Of course boys noticed and flocked around her. I got left behind. Now at twenty she stood 5'9", was stacked with big tits and the naturally blonde hair from her Mother’s Swedish family line. She was wearing a baggy blue crop-top and a pair of red and white striped tight short shorts. (ah the fashion of the 80’s) Her long legs looked amazing. Naturally I followed her. “You okay?” I asked when I caught up with her. “Hmm? Oh yeah… I guess…” she mumbled. Then she stopped and leaned on the railing around the escalator. I stood there in silence. God, her ass looked awesome! I started to step away when she leaned forward on her elbows. Her crop top hung open and I could see her tits hanging free. They looked huge. Of course I wasn’t experienced and had only seen tits in flashes and glimpses and Playboy. So this turned me on. I stood and stared for a moment then moved slightly to get a better view. “Kip? You know those silly episodes of shows and in movies where people swap bodies?” “Yeah.” “It’s stupid, I know, doesn’t happen, can’t happen… but, damn, I wish I could do it right now.” “What do you mean?” I asked. Daphne turned and walked towards the Furnishings displays. She paused in a “Bedroom display” and stood in front of a dresser. It was wide and low with an enormous mirror. “I’m tired of this.” she said. “I was happier when we were kids and could play and swim and have fun together.” She looked at my reflection and continued, “You were my best friend and confidant. We had so much fun together. Remember when we went skinny dipping?” she smiled. We’d been only eight and nine at the time and didn’t know anything about sex or attraction, hell we were so innocent, we weren’t even curious. We simply got hot and swam, then dressed and went on playing. I’d actually forgotten about it. “Then suddenly I emerge from my cocoon a beautiful butterfly and everything changes.” She was quiet for a moment, just staring at her reflection. “I wish it hadn’t.” I stepped closer, surprised to hear her confession. Taking a deep breath she continued. “Suddenly everyone wanted to be close to me, no… not just close. Everyone wanted to possess me, own me… use me. Even my Dad wanted to use me for advertising. Those photos they took? Yeah, those were the tame ones the company approved. Some were deemed unacceptable. Mom and Dad didn’t care what the photographer asked me to do or wear or how to pose. They insisted that he was the professional and knew best. I felt cheap. And all the guys I dated? Every single one of them only wanted sex. That’s why I dated so many guys. I’d date a guy till he pressed for sex, then drop him. Problem was that all the guys wanted sex, none of them wanted me.” Suddenly I felt guilty for looking at her tits. “Finally it happened. Six months ago, I went to a party. I was having fun, then I woke up the next day in a strange house with my ass in a gallon of cum. I’d been drugged and raped. I wanted to die.” Tears flowed as she continued. “They’d left polaroids of me getting fucked but nothing to identify them. I gave in and started having sex. I figured it was useless to refuse and the damage was already done, I wasn’t a virgin. I ended up at another party where I lost count of the guys I fucked. Then I had a pregnancy scare and confessed to my folks. Mom and Dad saw the danger I was in. They supported me and protected me, even though it was too late. I’ve been to doctors, the police and psychiatrists. They say I’m clean and lucky. I didn’t get pregnant or catch a disease. But there’s no way to find who did it either. I had to cut out everyone who had been a part of my life before then. I was even afraid to go out or dress nice. I was afraid of someone seeing me and deciding they wanted me.” She looked at me. “I was so lonely. Then I thought of you. And I remembered how much fun we had, and how much we shared. I realized I hadn’t had a best friend since I’d left you behind… And I realized you were my first boyfriend even if we didn’t understand what that meant. I saw that I’d lost a really great guy. And I’m sorry for that. It was stupid.” “I’m sorry I didn’t try to follow you.” I said. “I realized you were beautiful and figured that you were out of my league…” “Kip, Mom and I had a talk… well, we had a lot of talks, but… Look, do you think my dad is handsome?” “Uh, no.” “But my Mom is hot, right?” “Yeah!” I scoffed. “So I asked her why she picked him when she probably could have picked anyone. She said it was because he first was her best friend. They were friends first, lovers second. She said that’s why they’re happy.” “Oh.” “Kip? Can we go back? Can we be best friends again?” “Sure! Of course!” “And would you like to go out… sometime?” “Absolutely!” “Would you be my boyfriend?” I was touched. I realized how much I still cared for her and how much I’d missed her. I had been forced to push my feelings down and bury them. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.” I answered and a smile spread across my face. Daphne smiled and hugged me tightly. We stood there hugging as she sniffled for a while. My emotions were going everywhere. I was overjoyed to have my friend back, saddened that she had suffered, and… aroused by the feeling of her tits pressing tight against me, her arms around my neck, the warmth of her body… and my cock stiffened. In fact this had to be the fastest I went from flaccid to erect ever. I was mortified because there was no way Daphne could miss it. “Oh wow!” she said and rubbed her pelvis against my bulge. She giggled and squeezed me tighter. “God, Kip, that feels huge!” Releasing me she stepped back. I saw she was biting her lower lip as she stared at the bulge in my jeans. I knew that was a habit of hers when she was trying to make a decision. I tried to shift my hard on around a bit to get comfortable. Suddenly Daphne lunged forward and grabbed my belt. She opened my pants in a flash and yanked them down along with my briefs. My cock stood out and she grabbed it. Grinning she knelt in front of me and stroked it. It felt incredible. I’d jacked off before and this was so much better that I knew immediately that I wouldn’t last. Daphne kissed it and sucked on it then when I cried out she swallowed all my cum. She finally released me and smiled. “Holy cow! That was amazing…” I mumbled. Daphne stood and kissed me. I felt her tongue slip into my mouth and her hands gripped my head tightly. My hands found her waist and slid up under her top without conscious thought. I felt her tits and she moaned. Daphne stepped back. She pulled off her top. Her tits were the most amazing tits I’ve ever seen. Even after all these years. They were round, full and firm, (I found out later she wore a 34D) with big pink areola and stubby darker nipples. She then shrugged off her tight shorts and panties. She flopped onto the display bed and held her arms out. I stripped quickly and joined her. She realized I was fumbling and guided my cock into her. Oh my god, the feeling of my first, warm, wet pussy was amazing. I had to stroke a few times to get all the way in, but she was full of encouragement. She finally had me going all out as she begged me for more. “Fuck me Kip! Fuck me! Yes!” Cliche as it may sound we came almost together. I was groaning and gasping as she practically screamed. But we didn’t stop. We paused thrusting and grinding but I stayed inside of her and fairly stiff. We kissed over and over. I couldn’t get enough of her. She wrapped her legs around my hips and squeezed. We continued to fuck and absolutely destroyed the display’s bedding. My god, but she was loud! It drove me to pound her over and over. I came several times but we only slowed briefly. Each time she kissed, tongued and begged me for more. And my eager young cock responded quickly. This still turns me on, I am still thrilled by a loud lover. We fucked until I was spent, absolutely spent. I lay there panting, covered in sweat and Daphne rolled on top of me, we kissed and stared into each other’s eyes. I caressed her back and she rubbed her wet crotch against me. “God, Kip! That was fantastic! Better than I dreamed!” “You dreamed?” I asked. “Well, yeah.” she said sitting up. “Last night in fact.” Daphne lay down on the bed and began caressing her breasts and playing with her nipples. “I gave into sex and enjoyed it, or rather, I enjoyed being wanted. I enjoyed getting fucked some of the time and endured it the rest of the time. But I seldom came. My orgasms were rare and sometimes disappointingly shallow and brief. Then I was celebate for so long, I was afraid to masturbate… afraid it would tempt me to go out and start look for sex. Finally, after talking to my Mom and thinking about you and what we had, I fell asleep last night and dreamed of you. I dreamed of seducing you and I woke up masturbating and about to cum.” “Did you?” I asked, grinning “Did you make yourself cum?” “Y-Yes…” she whispered. “Show me.” I whispered back. “Show me how you did it.” Daphne slid her right hand down her body to her moung and slowly spread her legs. Her hand massaged her pussy in circles as her left continued to squeeze her breast. She kept her eyes closed and slid two fingers into her pussy. I shifted to get a better view. She started stroking slowly and there was so much fluid, hers and mine, oozing out. I found it an unexpected turn on. My cock was stiff and I wanted to fuck her so badly but the sight mesmerized me. Soon she was stroking faster and faster. After a bit her hips began to rock. I glanced up and saw she was looking at me. She groaned and bit her lip as she came, her body going rigid for a moment. “I-I'mmm ccccuuuummmmmiinnnggg……” she moaned. I couldn’t stand it. I mounted her and slid my cock into her as quickly as I could. Her pussy was so wet that I slid in all the way in one thrust. Her pussy was quivering and her eyes were wide as she gasped. She lifted her hands to my face and I found her wet finger in my mouth. I sucked them as I began to stroke in and out. Her titties bounced and I fucked harder and faster. “Ohhh gaawwwddd!” she moaned. “Ohhhhh yesssss! I'mmmm still ccuuummmminnnggggg…. Ohh god, oh god, oh god!” Daphne’s eyes rolled back. Suddenly I exploded and came, pumping a huge load into Daphne’s pussy. Daphne groaned and relaxed. I pulled out and she rolled onto her side and curled into a ball. Her pussy was visible as she pulled her knees up to her chest. I watched as my cum seeped from between those beautiful lips and flowed down to pool beneath her ass. I sat back and tried to control my breathing. This was insane! Fucking the boss’s daughter, on the job, on a display bed! I looked around nervously. We were still alone. I found myself grinning both from the exhilaration of sex and the absurdity of it all. Daphne actually dozed off for a few minutes and I watched her as she slowly relaxed and rolled away from the puddle of wetness. She lay there and I realized just how beautiful she was. Not just sexy. She was that. But sweet and pretty and… I fell in love. She woke when I edged closer and caressed her hip and back. She smiled and we kissed. “Come on,” I said, “We’ve got a mess to clean up.” She looked at the bed and realized what we had done. We had not only ruined the bedding, but the wetness had seeped down into the mattress itself. After getting dressed, we gathered the soiled bedding and stuffed it into a garbage bag. She went to the back and retrieved another set and we remade the bed. She hung around while I finished buffing the floors, dancing to the music on the sound system. I hurried through the motions, but really the floors were in pretty good shape already. After putting my stuff away, I threw the bag of soiled bedding into the dumpster. I went back inside and found Daphne standing by the door to the offices. She seemed less cheerful and a little distant. “What’s up?” I asked as I slid my arms around her. There were tears in her eyes as she looked at me. “Kip? Do… Do you want me? Really want me? Or am I just going to be your girlfriend for sex?” I was taken aback.“Of course I want you!” “But I was a slut. I’ve screwed a lot of guys…” “And you came to me.” I said. “And we didn’t have to fuck but we did and it meant the world to me. Daphne, you were my first. Do you get it? I came to work a virgin and you gave yourself to me. I don’t care how many guys you fucked before. You and I fucked and it was great! We came like, a jillion times and I want to do it again and again and again! And not just because you’re sexy, but because you wanted me. And I want to be wanted, needed.” “I need you too Kip!” she said as the tears flowed freely. This sex with you was better than anything I’ve ever done… because it was you!“ We kissed and I held her as she cried. Finally we locked up and I followed as she drove home. She developed a habit of popping in on me every night. Sometimes we fucked, sometimes we didn’t. We were careful not to ruin any more displays. She later introduced me to oral sex, both giving and receiving. I loved eating her out, and she could get me off easily and swallow it all leaving nothing to clean up. Sometimes she would strip and dress in lingerie from the racks and dance for me. We dated and spent a lot of time together. I was surprised when her dad told me he was hiring another company to do the floors. But then he offered me a job as an Assistant Manager. When I accepted and we shook hands he grinned and said, "Good, can’t have my son-in-law buffing floors all his life.” “Excuse me?” “I see the way you two are. You’re in love. I’m in favor of it. The two of you belong together, you’re good for each other. Just take your time and get it right, don’t rush.” We did. And as I type this memory I know she is lying naked in our bed, waiting for me to come to her. So… goodnight. By S3lwyncd0g, for Literotica
Friday · length unknown
Neighbor's Juicy Daughter: Part 2
Neighbor’s Juicy Daughter: Part 2. The new neighbor girl takes an interest in me. Based on a post by lucifrix. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Based on a post by lucifrix. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories. I handed the phone to the sleepy girl sprawled against me. "Hey Mom." Summer yawned, voice fogged with blissful satisfaction. I could still hear Sheila on the other end. "Sweetie I'm so sorry, but I have to work late. I miss you. Is it okay if James takes care of you tonight?" "Sure Mom, that's fine. He's such a fine man, momma." "Are you two having fun?" Sheila asked. "Yeah. We watched a porno and he got me off with his fingers." Oh Shit! My brain exploded into desperate panic. Did she just tell her mom what happened? I was fucking Dead! "James? James?" Summer was holding the phone to my ear. "Are you there?" The world spun dizzily around me. "Yeah." "I'm glad you guys are getting along. Thanks for taking her for the night. Listen, if you want to, you can put it inside her." "Put; put what inside her?" "Jeez James; put your cock inside her lovely pussy. Maybe push it in and out a few times. You might like it. It's called fucking. Have you heard of it?" Laughter from the other end. Did she just give her blessing for me to fuck her daughter? "Are; are you serious Sheila?" "Of course. Look I've seen you through the bathroom window. You're pretty big but you're about the size of my last boyfriend and he could fit. Just take it easy on the rough stuff okay? I won't let her have sex with punks who don't know how to care for a woman's needs. But you are the kind of man who she will be safe with. But hit the bed soon and don't keep her up too late. She has to sleep sometime." "Okay." "Great. Okay you two have fun. I've gotta get back to work. Thanks again." The phone went dead and I tossed it onto the cushions. Summer was squirming against my chest. "Touch me," she murmured. Jeez, 18-year-old girls got straight to the point. I let my hands snake under the blanket and rub gentle circles on hersmooth tummy and ass. Summer writhed her back in slow motions against my chest, mewling quietly as a warm flush moved up her neck. "Want to go to the bedroom?" I asked. "Sure," she nodded. In one smooth motion I scooped the little girl into my arms and leaped to my feet. Summer giggled, wiggling in the blanket that swaddled her, kicking her feet playfully as I carried her down the hallway. I pulled back the covers of my bed and let Summer topple out of the blanket onto the bedding, laughing as she landed on her side and rolled onto her back. My cock ached painfully against the fabric of my pants as I took in the sight of the teenage girl , shirt pulled up above her nipples and the hairless little cleft peeping out from the tangle of her blue skirt. She was so sweet, beaming up at me with a mixed expression of trust and hunger and a concealed uncertainty as she eyeballed the swelling lump at my crotch. I pulled the shirt up over her waiting arms, and then tugged her skirt down, past the wiggling hips and down the slender legs, catching briefly on her toes. I threw it aside and ran my hands over her hips and legs, rubbing the smooth skin like silk under my fingers. Summer stretched her arms on the bed and bit her lip, lying naked as the day she was born, her curvy little body offered up like a treat to the man looming above her. I pushed my pants down and kicked them aside, manhood springing free like an escaped prisoner, then crawled up on the bed to straddle her. My fingertips skimmed up her thighs, then grabbed and pulled her legs apart, hungry for the nectar that lurked in the pink folds between the little girl's thighs. Summer seemed to sink into the mattress under me, dwarfed by the full-grown man on top of her, locked in place by the muscled thighs rubbing her waist. I pulled her closer. My cock bounced and landed with a meaty thump on her mound, just above the waiting slit that still leaked with juices. Gasping at the contact, she looked down at the engorged organ primed below her belly, bulging red with desire and tickling her navel, tip dribbling with precum that filled the little pool until it overflowed onto her stomach. My cock descended and my cock head found her pussy, brushing against the soft rims until they parted and I tasted the moist excitement underneath. I tweaked her nipples and ran my hands slowly down her belly, hands curving out to her sides, feeling the soft curves of skin that trembled under my fingers. The little woman was all eager energy, lips pressing back hungrily against mine, pelvis twitching under the arc of my legs, begging for the penis rubbing just above the moist lips of her pussy. I reached down and wrapped fingers around my base, steadying my phallus to line up with the puffy lips, plugging the head at the entrance to the tiny gap between them. Wet heat tickled the rim of my cock, and I pushed forward, squeezing myself into the narrow tunnel of the little debutante. Summer moaned and threw her head back against the pillow as the cock head split her little cunny lips wide open and prodded inside. God, her little pussy was so tight! I stuffed a few more inches of my girth inside, relishing the feel of the muscles sucking at my intruding meat, pulling it deeper into the tunnel as if desperate to have the thick penis of a grown man buried inside the girl where it belonged. Summer writhed under me, brown hair rustling the sheets, cooing with pleasure as I stuffed my cock inside her. Her eyes were fixed, bulging, on the sight of her shiny cunt lips wrapped obscenely around the wide shaft of firm flesh entering her. I pulled back against the suction and pushed in again, cramming myself another inch deeper into the squeezing heat, twisting the peaks of her erect nipples as I went until her eyes closed and her neck arched back, throat muscles locked around a long, rumbling groan. I shoved in, then pulled back until my mushroom hovered just below her lips, and plunged again, thighs slapping against hers as I built into a bucking rhythm that pushed deeper and deeper until all 8 inches of rigid flesh were pistoning between the pink folds and squeezing up into the vixen's belly to bang on her cervix at the end. Summer was a twisting form under me, porcelain body vibrating on a bed of long brown hair and squealing wordless cries of pleasure. I planted my hands on the bed and hammered the debutante against the pillow, hips jerking in a rhythm of long strokes that slapped my balls against her ass, grunting in shared ecstasy as our panting mounted into heated cries, bodies locked together in racing desire. A warm buzzing began in my groin, swelling through the muscles of my pelvis in a rising current, fed by the energy of each eager penetration into the tiny body howling beneath me. My hands held her arms down, holding her still as she jerked in orgasm, and I hammered the last few thrusts into the tiny pussy and exploded inside her. Our bodies convulsed. I collapsed against Summer's tiny frame, enveloping her underneath me as our chests rubbed slick sweat onto each other and my cock surged like a fire hose, blasting cum up into the little pussy wrapped around it. Brain spinning in dizzy ecstasy, my body shook, crushing her beneath me as I filled her with sticky juice, patting her hair and kissing her forehead as she thrummed happily with her own climax. My shudders finally stopped, receding like distant waves, and I pulled up so she could breath. My cock popped regretfully out of the warm haven of her cunt, spilling a small flood of mixed cum and pussy juices that leaked down onto the fleece of the Hello Kitty blanket. I rolled off and let Summer cuddle up to my chest, hugging me happily, face beaming with the fresh just-fucked smile that looks so good on teen vixens. I'm not sure how long I held her against me, fingers stroking her back and hips, before the phone rang. I rolled over to answer it. "Hey James, I just got home. We had another girl come in so I was able to leave. I'm coming over to get Summer. If you guys aren't too busy, that is." I swore I could hear the smirk in her voice. "Sure um; yeah." I looked at Summer, drowsing with her eyes closed on the bed, sperm leaking from her crack. "Come on over." Somehow I got the yawning girl to sit upright. She giggled, pretending to resist as I pulled her pajamas on and got her to stand up for her sandals. Her crotch was a mess, fluid dripping down her legs. The doorbell rang. Shit. Summer seemed amused at my panicked actions, stifling another yawn with her hands as I grabbed her things and began to stuff them in her overnight bag. The doorbell rang again. Shit. Her blanket had several deposits of obvious goop on it. I rolled it up tight and stuffed it down at the bottom of the bag, then hauled Summer to the door. Her hair was a mess and her pajama pants were twisted to the side, at the waist, and I tried not to think of the trickles of semen winding their way down her thighs. I pulled open the door. "Hi James." Sheila had been reaching for the doorbell again. My jaw dropped open in shock. She was stunning, face made up with pink lipstick and her hair bouncing in shining curls. She must have come right over, not even bothering to change out of the lacy bra and garters that she wore for work. The tanned skin and hourglass figure captured my eyes as she leaned to the side, to hug her daughter, and the similarities were obvious. Summer would look just like her mother when she fully matured. "Thanks so much, James. We really appreciate it." Sheila tousled her daughter's hair affectionately. "Come on honey, let's go to bed." She led her daughter back to her house by the hand, giving me a lovely view of her bare ass cheeks in the porch light. Summer was cum-drunk and blissfully grinning. Tight and round, the asses jiggled slightly as the mother and daughter walked, unhampered by the tiny strap of string bikini that ran down the cleft between them. My stare followed them, mesmerized at the sight of the luscious woman and her cum-filled daughter walking across the grass. An urgent tightness was growing in my pants again, cock rising from the dead, pointing at the pair of girls like a dowsing rod as they went in their house. Then I was alone, staring like an idiot, moths flying in the open doorway. I closed it and went to bed. I had slept well into the afternoon, dreams filled with visions of sweet girls being bent over and stuffed full of cocks until their bellies bulged with semen. A dim haze still lingered over the world as I sat on my couch, trying to drive away the grogginess with a third cup of coffee, at 2 in the afternoon. The memory of my thumping cock gushing sticky juice into the deep end of Summer's tight pink pussy kept crashing into my thoughts, scattering them like autumn leaves. I thought I was still dreaming when I saw Sheila through the side window, crossing my yard to buzz the doorbell. "Hey there James." Sheila's admiring smile was a sunburst on a cloudy day, the kind of warm invitation that could capture a man's heart or break it in two, effortlessly. "Hi Sheila." I tried to keep my eyeballs at a polite height, but they wiggled down her body on their own, admiring the fringed red crop-top and dropping past her muscled stomach to the jogging shorts that hugged the athletic curves of her hips. "I'm glad you're home today, James. Listen, do you want to come over for a bit?" She cocked her head invitingly. "You've helped me out twice now and I wanted to say thank you in person.” I might have stood there forever, staring at her hips and the shapely tits under the drape of her top, but a synapse finally fired somewhere in the back of my brain and I shook off the paralysis. "I'd love to." I let the storm door shut behind me and followed her across the lawn to her house. "Work's been absolutely killer," she said, inviting me in the door with a wave. "I thought I was sunk when the other girls quit. I mean, I could take Summer to work. The other girls absolutely adore her. But somebody would probably harass her sooner or later." "Yeah. Glad I could help." I looked around the living room, admiring the cutesy decorations. Her house was small, like mine, but the girlish lights and pink love seat gave it a cozy atmosphere. "It's rough, you know?" She poured two glasses of wine and handed one to me, at the kitchen counter. "Moving to a new neighborhood, no friends for us, nobody to look after Summer." She sat down on the love seat and beckoned me to join her. "I can imagine. " I sipped my wine and tried not to stare at her tits. "Little girls can be a handful." She laughed richly. "Summer's a sweet girl. She doesn't make any trouble. We're very close." She winked at me and drained her wine glass. "We do pretty much everything together." I mulled that over as I emptied my glass. "I've had to work more this year, and I don't get to see as much of my daughter as I used to," she sighed. "I want to cut my hours at the club, but the bills would quickly pile up." "I know the feeling." I murmured, looking around her living room again. "It's hard to get ahead. Still, you seem to have done well enough for yourself." "I suppose so." She cocked her head at me, smiling coyly, letting her curls cascade down her shoulder. "Stripping pays pretty well. But I don't usually get to socialize with the general public, like joining the PTA or attending church. So I love to make our home very livable. Here, let me show you around." It barely took a minute. The kitchen and living room were tidy, but I barely spared them a glance. Every time Sheila turned around I couldn't keep my eyes from squirming up and down her body, from the sexy top down the graceful curve of her naked back to the firm ass cheeks straining against the black shorts. She was exquisite, with friendly eyes and a dazzling smile, her body athletic and tanned like a sculpture come to life. I had never met such an amazing woman. And she looked young; I pegged her at about 30, but I couldn't make the math add up. "Not much to show," Sheila laughed. "It's as small as your place. That's the laundry over there, and this is the bedroom." "Oh." I was impressed by the lighting and the ceiling mirrors. As we entered the room, a sultry romantic instrumental background tune could be heard filling the room's atmosphere. A few shirts hung out of the dresser drawer and a pair of pink socks kept vigil by the single large bed. Draped cloth near the ceiling turned the dim lights an alluring shade of red and gave the space a snug feeling. “So,” Sheila began; “What's your story, James. There are very few good men like you available. Why aren't you married and raised 6 kids?” “ I've had a few relationships, but sadly, either careers or competitors took them from me. My work travel became my therapy broken heart. Now it's a barrier, keeping me away from the singles scene.” Then James added; “I really wish I had someone to come home to.” Feeling a bit vulnerable, I redirected the topic;" I love the lighting accents. It's nice. It turns a common room into an experience." "Yeah. It is nice." She said as she took my empty wine glass and set it with hers, on her bedroom dresser. The she reached out a hand and pushed me squarely in the chest, sending me sprawling onto my back on the bed. "I uh; um; " Words babbled stupidly from my mouth as Sheila straddled me. "Shush." She grinned seductively, laying a finger on my lips. "Let a girl show how much she appreciates a guy." Rubbing her body against my legs, she slowly dropped to her knees on the carpet, brushing the lump in my jeans with her hand. I jumped reflexively when she pulled down my zipper and fished inside, wrapping her fingers around my cock, finding it already swollen with excitement. "Hmm," she rumbled seductively. "So this is what it looks like up close." She bent down and kissed the tip, lovingly; flaring her nostrils and parting her lips for a brief taste of the crown. "Nice." My body shivered, melting on the bed as I surrendered to the captivating feel of Sheila's expert fingers on my cock shaft. She licked my glans like a lollipop and then swallowed the head into her mouth to moisten the whole thing, sucking for a moment until she let me go with a wet pop. "Ah." Sultry breath washed in a hot wave down my girth. "So this is what was in my daughter. It still has her scent." Sheila worked her tongue, adding more juice to the end, then licked her way down the shaft until my cock was glistening with a light sheen. She smacked her lips, looking up at me as she pulled back her hair, and then a steamy pocket engulfed me as she took me inside. My fingers curled into the cushions, knuckles turning white as Sheila began to bob her head, showing her affection to the rigid cock in her mouth. Saliva ran in slurping rivulets from her lips, oozing down from the underside of my shaft to pool on the bedding. Her jaw stretched wider, lips writhing hungrily over the veiny flesh as she fit another couple of inches inside. A pad of warm friction worked in loving swipes under the aching flesh, tongue gliding along the stiff surface, welcoming it into her mouth with gentle laps on the in-stroke and squeezing it with a tearful goodbye as it departed, flicking the urethra teasingly before starting again. Black curls danced a hungry rhythm on her shoulders as her nose ducked closer and closer to my base, and then my tip bumped up against a soft resistance: I had reached the back of her throat. She held me there, vibrating her mouth with a low moan that buzzed its way up my cock in ecstatic oscillations. I was panting wildly already, cock swelling up to the verge of explosion, and Sheila ran her tongue over me one last time and popped off the end. "God, you're a lot bigger than I expected, when you're hard. How did you even fit inside Summer's pussy?" She buried her nose against my cock and flared her nostrils, inhaling the musky scent, then kissed the end. "Don't worry though, I can make you fit anywhere." She let me go just long enough to reach behind her back and untie her halter top. The hanging cloth floated to the ground like light silk, and I stared at Sheila's beautiful tits: perfectly tanned, light and round, with small nipples peeking slightly upward from the center of a pair of C cups. She was 100% natural, with perfect symmetry and a bit of pendulous sway. Even for a stripper, she didn't need the help. Any man would give his left nut to cup those globes in his hands. Slime squished between her fingers as she wrapped them around me and stroked downwards in double fists. My cock swelled up like a balloon about to pop in her hand, and she opened up and stuffed her mouth full of it again. The gripping slide of Sheila's mouth on my cock had boiled my brain so much that I almost didn't hear the front door open. Shit, was school out already? "Hi mom. Hi James" Summer waved at me from the bedroom doorway, nonchalant at the sight of her mother kneeling against the bed with a man's cock crammed in her mouth up to the balls. Sheila pulled her head up in a slow motion until my meat popped out and waved in the air, dripping with gooey saliva. "Hi honey." Sheila turned around, not bothering to wipe the spittle dribbling from her mouth. "How was school?" "It was okay, I guess. I walked home with Eve." Summer watched my cock wave in the air as she dropped her pack on the floor and reached back to pull the scrunchy off her ponytail. "Good. It's pretty hot outside honey. Why don't you take a shower while I finish
Thursday · length unknown
Neighbor's Juicy Daughter: Part 1
Neighbor’s Juicy Daughter: Part 1. The new neighbor girl takes an interest in me. Based on a post by lucifrix. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories. Introduction: Sheila, the gorgeous young woman that had moved in next to my place, peeking over the fence at me. "Hi there!" For a moment I thought the watered-down piss that passed for my beer had gone to my head, but it was only Sheila, the gorgeous young woman that had moved in next to my place, peeking over the fence at me. My muscles groaned in protest as I got up from my deck chair. The construction worksite had kept me all day, moving lumber until my back was breaking. All I wanted to do when I got home was rest, but sometimes you had to make sacrifices when your ultra fuckable neighbor wanted to talk to you. I crossed the lawn to the fence. "Hi Sheila." I wasn't too tired to smile, or to appreciate the pretty face and the long, dark hair that she was hastily tying back into a ponytail. It was too bad the wooden slats hid her body below the chest, but I had had plenty of chances to admire it since she moved in. Our houses were close together near the fence, and the windows looked into each other. "Hey look I have to ask you for a favor, and I'm really sorry." Her tits bounced tantalizingly as she tied the strap around her hair. "Work called. They need me to come in, like right now. Long story is; One of the girls quit and my boss said if I don't fill in we'll lose out on a big crowd whose in town for a teamsters union convention. It'll put us under quota for the 3rd month, and the owners might close the location putting us all out of work. I have to save my job." "Sounds like a jerk." I muttered. Sheila was a stripper. I had wondered if I should wander down to her place some night to get a better look at her, but figured it might get weird. She had only moved in a couple weeks ago. I didn't want her to think I was too much of a pervert. "Yeah well, he is a jerk. But the job pays the bills." Sheila was bouncing on her feet nervously. "There's no way I'll be able to get a babysitter for Summer." Summer is an interesting dichotomy. Her father father died in a tragic auto accident when she was 6. Summer barely survived. The head trauma included a major concussion, permanent amnesia, and reset her brain to that of a 2 year old. She just turned 18, but has the innocence of a 14 year old. While she rediscovers life with her 8th grade special needs classmates, her body is as sensual as her mother's exotic dancer physique. "Can you look after her? Just until I get off work I mean. I hate to ask but I don't have any other options. If you can help me out I'd be Really grateful." My house wasn't exactly set up to be a daycare, but I had never been the kind of man that could say no when a needy girl blinked her eyes at me. It beat watching the ball game until I fell asleep. "Okay, sure; " "Thanks so much she'll be right over thanks again!" She called over her shoulder as she hurried back inside. The sports bra and tight shorts were a nice parting gift: athletic thighs, a tight ass, trim stomach. Sheila was a knockout. She probably made tons of money stripping. I had barely made it back inside myself when the doorbell rang. I opened it to see Sheila and her little girl, Summer, a rosy-cheeked teenage girl with a winning smile. "Okay hon; momma's gonna go to work. Don't worry." She finished zipping an overnight bag and shoved it into her daughter's hands. "You have your pajamas and toothbrush and everything you need in here. Be a good girl and do what James says, okay sweetie?" It was a bit odd to see a beautiful young mother talk to an 18 year old like she was still a child. Summer's countenance, very naive and trusting; helped my remember that the girl's intellect, as well as her mental and emotional development was four years retarded. "Okay mom." Summer was a sweet little thing in a green dress with spaghetti straps and long brown hair held back by a pink headband with a little fake rose on it. Her mom crushed her into a bearhug and then dashed out the door. We stood in the hallway awkwardly for a second. I had only seen the girl once before, but she was even cuter up close, with a sunny face and high cheekbones framing rounded cheeks and girlish dimples. She was already every bit as pretty as her mother. It was also not lost on me that Summer grew up without a father in her life. It was a void that I soon found very pertinent in Summer's disposition and social adjustment. "Hi Mr. Johnson," she said, smiling bashfully. "Hi Summer. It's nice to meet you." I smiled. "Sorry your mom had to run out so suddenly." "Oh it's okay; she does this sometimes." Summer looked down and pushed my rug with her toe experimentally. "Usually I just watch tv." "Well you're welcome to watch anything you want here. I have a huge one. A huge tv, I mean." I mentally slapped myself. "I'll make some dinner too. Do you like hamburgers?" "Yeah." "Good. I grill them myself. I won a hamburger cook-off once, so I think you'll like them. Here, let me show you around." I gave her the 30-second tour. Bathroom, both bedrooms, kitchen, living room. "Oh My Gosh! Oh My Gosh! You Have An Xbox! Can I Play With It Please, Please!" Summer's outburst rattled my eardrums as she practically cartwheeled onto the couch. "Sure you can play with it," I laughed. "We both can." I got the controllers and we plopped ourselves onto the cushions. "Humph, you're going down!" She threatened. And I did, getting stomped repeatedly in Rocket League. We switched to Super Monkey Ball, and I fared even worse. "Jeez Summer, go easy on me," I panted. She was riding the edge of the couch, holding her controller with a furiously determined expression on her face. Her firm full tits bounced with her hyper-active expressions. "Pift, go easy, no way!" She tilted her controller and my monkey hurtled off the track into an abyss. "Hah, gotcha! I win!" I collapsed back onto the cushions in defeat, while she exulted, hands thrown in the air with fingers twirling. "Nah nah nah nah; hey hey aye, good bye." Her little bubble ass gyrated on the couch as she sing-songed her victory. "Sheesh," I muttered. Emasculated in my own my living room. The microwave beeped in the kitchen; the burgers I had thawed out were ready. "Stay put, you." I poked her in the thigh with my controller. "I'll get the food." Summer wolfed down her burgers until she was stuffed full of meat and gave a girlish belch. I piled our plates onto the coffee table and laid back on the couch, and Summer plopped her head against me. "Hey, sorry. Guess I wasn't very nice." "Oh, it's okay. Don't worry about it." I was a bit distracted by the soft head snuggling against my chest. "Ours broke a while back, so I've missed it. Mom says I get too excited when I play. Hey let's try Left 4 Dead! We can do co-op." I switched games and we readied ourselves for zombie slaughter. Summer covered my back while I took on the main force of un-dead, mowing them down with assault rifles and grenades. We made a pretty good team. Summer had squeezed herself into the crook of my arm and made herself comfortable, and the warm body felt great pressed up against me. She was a pretty small girl, with a thin frame and just the right of plump roundness to her shoulders and ass. Her hair smelled like peaches, an airy, innocent scent like a hint of a coming spring. I couldn't help looking down: her green dress drooped slightly, revealing the upper slopes of her cleavage and an enticing darkness underneath. Waves of zombies fell before us, body parts flying with each detonation of my grenade launcher. Summer was clearing the side rooms. I rubbed her neck with the crook of my arm, getting comfortable. A warm, fuzzy feeling was building up on my insides, a pleasant tightness that I hadn't felt in a while. My head was tilting, feeling her hair against my cheek. The sun had set, leaving my living room in darkness, and we were washed with blue light from the television. Maybe I could lean back a bit more, pull her a bit closer and; And what? Idiot. I banished the thought and tried to ignore the uncomfortable pressing feeling in my pants. " Ah! Hey, help!" Summer had been cornered by a hulking monstrosity while I was distracted. It pressed her against the wall and prepared to munch on her brains. "Hang on Summer." I turned around and sprayed bullets at the zombies advancing behind me. "I'm coming!" I had to slip through and duck into the side room where she was caught. Switched my character to the axe, I swung heavily, driving the creature back with meaty thwacks until I tore its head off and it dropped. Summer was pushing against me with her legs, jerking slightly as she pounded her controller, struggling to keep the undead at bay. The light silk of her dress rustled under my arm where it was resting on her chest. "Yes!" I crowed. "Take that!" But we had fallen too far behind, and the relentless waves of aggressive undead flooded into the room, ripping us to pieces. Summer's health was low and she died, and I was torn apart a few seconds later. Blood poured down the screen. "Well we Almost made it to the helicopter." Summer huffed. "If I had another molotov I could have killed that boomer." "Yeah; almost made it." Sweat beaded my forehead as Summer wiggled against me to get comfortable again. I let my arm move lower down until it rested against against her tummy, enjoying the smooth feeling. Summer exploded. "Oh My Gosh You Have Dance Central!" She leaped off the couch and almost took me with her. "Mom used to have this! It's like so much fun and so cool! Put it on!" I switched games and started it up, wincing as I was greeted by the pulsing beat of a crooning boy-band. "Okay so;" Summer was standing in front of the couch, arms held out from her hips as if she needed to center herself. "You have to promise me something." "Sure." "Promise!" I laughed. "I promise, Summer." "Promise you won't laugh." I poked her in the shoulder. "Hey, I'm not going to laugh at you. Go nuts." The firm sensation in my pants grew to an uncomfortable bulge as I watched a teenage girl shake her hips to the rhythm of the songs. She was good; her mother had probably taught her. She stepped to the side and thrust her hip out, smacking it with her hand, and did the same on the other side, alternating faster as the beat thumped along on an accelerating tempo. My cock flexed against my jeans, surging with blood like it was going to burst, and I wondered if the Kinect would register its slow strangling as motion. Summer threw her hands in the air, dropped them low with palms outspread, raised and lowered and threw them wide before twisting in a tight circle that sent the hem of her dress flaring. I gulped. Pink panties, hidden in the little cleft between her legs, barely visible in the washed-out light. My eyes couldn't help themselves: they roamed over the tight curves of the busty teenage girl , admiring her cute globes of her round ass, the graceful legs and thighs, the womanly hips that worked back and forth in thrusting rhythms. Her dress was short, indecently short for a girl her age, but I wasn't complaining. The view worked my groin into a mounting mass that bubbled like a volcano about to erupt. The song ended. She scored five gold stars and the screen exploded with fireworks and confetti. "Yes!" Summer bounced on her toes, giving me another show from behind. A light sheen of tiny droplets beaded her shoulders and arms, twinkling blue as they rolled down the curves of her body. "I got it!" She twirled around. "Hey did you see?" I swallowed. "I; yeah I saw." I looked for a way out, an escape, an ejection button. "Hey, how about some ice cream? We can watch a movie too." "Sure!" Summer flopped bonelessly onto the couch. I stood up, delicately, trying to keep my cock from splintering like glass on the fabric of my jeans. The freezer blasted me with antarctic air. For a moment I contemplated sticking myself inside. It might help, might keep my cock from bulging with excitement for the tight body of the girl on my couch. She wasn't the only one who was sweating. I had regained some control of myself by the time I returned to the living room with two bowls of ice cream. Summer accepted hers with a smile, lounging against a pillow with her slim legs pulled up under her. She had already found the remote and was paging through my cable subscriptions. "Hmm; nope; nope; nope. Hey what's this one under your favorites? The Professional? Can we watch that." "Um; uh; " I fumbled for the remote but she held it out of my reach, smirking. "No. Pick something else." "Fine! Okay I want a horror movie. Evil Dead. This looks freaky." I sighed, surrendering. The remake actually wasn't too bad. A predictably haunted fog rolled in and un-dead began to rise from the ground right on schedule. Summer sprawled against her pillow, yawning, right up until a ghoul screamed its way through the window and grabbed the heroine. The girl shrieked in fright and grabbed my arm like a life preserver, hugging tighter every time another vicious creature came onto the screen. I wrapped my arm around her and let her cuddle close, enjoying the sweet, intoxicating quality that a girl always has when pressed up against you. Her eyes reflected the light of the television, twin stars shining whenever the picture turned white. She was mesmerizing, head tucked close to her arms as she huddled against my side, a beautiful little lady on the cusp of sensuality just like the flower on her headband. I let my fingers trail down the back of her dress, feeling the delicious curves under the cloth as they rounded the slopes of her ass and came up against the fringe of the skirt. The heroine stalked down a hall with a knife, surrounded by darkness and menacing whispers. The door at the end was soaked with blood. She stepped lightly, closer, closer still, and reached for the handle. We both jumped and screamed when the coffee table buzzed angrily. I reached out and picked up my phone. The caller ID said Sheila. "Hey James, I just got on break. How's Summer doing?" "Great. We're doing great. We played together, I mean uh, we played XBox, and ate. Food, I mean. Uh; " I babbled nervously, pulling my hands guiltily off Summer. "Yeah she's really fine. I mean uh, she's good. She played a dancing game on the XBox and now we're watching a movie." "Okay that's great." Sheila sounded amused. "I have to work for a few more hours. Did you say she was dancing? She probably got sweaty. Can you give her a bath and make sure she gets into her pajamas? That way she'll be ready for bed when I get home." "Oh okay, yeah I'll do that." "Thanks so much. I knew I could count on you. Have fun." Sheila hung up. "Was that mom?" "Yeah. She says it's bath time." I said, patting her shoulder. "Come on let's go." It took a minute for the shower to warm up. I held my hand under the head until it was comfortable, then turned up the spray and pulled the sheet across. "Okay pumpkin. There ya go." Summer was sitting on the plastic bench by the door, grinning at me. She held out her foot. I helped her get her shoes off, dropping them next to the bathmat, then pulled off her socks. 10 wiggling little toes greeted me. The pink headband with its pretty flower was next, and her charm bracelet topped the pile. She stood up. I prayed she didn't notice the tent in my pants. "There ya go," I cleared my throat. "It's all warmed up for you." I waited for her to move away from the door, but she raised her arms over her head expectantly. "What?" "What?" she repeated, bemused at my dumbfounded expression. "Help me with my dress, silly." Hands shaking, I reached out and pulled the satiny summer dress up over her head, revealing her panties, her curving hips and smooth tummy, the sweet field of mounds, and the cleavage between, covered by a plain white cotton and spandex blend brazier. skin sweeping up her chest, pink nipples poking from the under the white plain stretch knit fabric; like lonely peaks. Her body was amazing, an innocent bud of girlish sweetness and light curves on the cusp of flowering into the feminine vibrancy of a young woman. I bent down and grabbed her pink panties at the waist, pulling them down over her full hips and slender legs, revealing the tiny slit hidden in the valley between her trimmed fur and pink lips. "Okay, now you." Summer gestured at my shirt and jeans. I was still on my knees on the bathmat, afraid that my manhood would rip itself apart if I tried to stand up. "Summer, I think, uh;" "Don't be silly." The naked girl put her hands on her hips, frowning disapprovingly. "It's shower time. We have to wash each other. Here, I'll help." I let her pull my shirt up and over my arms. Summer wasn't embarrassed by her own nakedness, but she seemed slightly cowed by my muscled chest. I stood up and got my pants down somehow, cock tugging at my underwear before springing free to lash about hungrily. Summer pulled the curtain open. "Come on," she beckoned. "Before it gets cold." I followed her into the shower, and let the spray wash over us, heart thumping like a drum. The soap squirted from my hands 4 times before I could work it into a lather. Summer held her arms up, eyes closed, rinsing her long hair in the water, letting it cascade down the slopes of her naked body. She wasn't at all concerned about the 8 inch cock waving about at her eye level. I longed for the freezer again. "Okay, turn around and I'll do your back," I gulped. She faced the wall, giving me the gorgeous view of her naked backside, water cascading down her spine like a mountain stream and running into the cleft between her ass cheeks. The steam was fogging up the bathroom, fogging up my brain, stirring it into a dizzy haze of hungry lust. My hands worked on their own, rubbing down Summer's back, scrubbing it clean until they ended at the soft globes beneath, then grabbing the moist flesh and massaging it in wide circles. She turned again, and I began on her front, spreading the suds across her chest, massaging it in, lingering on the perfect nipples. She giggled when I pinched them instinctively, smiling and wiggling her hips suggestively. God, she was amazing, like an angel from heaven, pure and unblemished, brimming with latent sexual energy. “I'll kneel so you can shampoo my hair” Summer declared. My erect cock bulged a few inches in front of her lips, and her eyes followed it, mesmerized. She reached out and set it bouncing, laughing as the turgid organ flapped in the air. She was right there, smiling impishly, her mouth a few inches from my manhood. So fucking close. Summer grabbed the shampoo bottle and squeezed some out, then began shampooing my bushy pubic area without saying a word.. Finally, she curiously fondled and probed my cock and balls, much like a college biology student might investigate an exotic life form. “I love your amazing body, Mr. Johnson.” Summer said; as I struggled to live in denial that my jewels were the delight of a sexy young woman. Somehow, I managed to clean the rest of her, the autonomic part of my brain chugging along while the rest floated dreamily in the clouds of steam. I turned off the water and we got out, and I dried us both with a towel, giving extra attention to her chest and the tempting area between her legs. "Your uh; your;
Wednesday · length unknown
Outsourcing Anal
Outsourcing Anal. Tommy's shrewd wife taps ready young coed for booty duty. Based on a post by PacoFear. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Dammit! I love my wife. Her name is Meredith and everybody calls her Merry. She's perfect. She works a full-time job as a management consultant. She cooks, cleans, does the laundry and the grocery shopping. She files our taxes and she walks my dog. She's a slim, dark haired twenty-seven year-old hottie that pounces on me for sex at least twice a week. Plus, she's smarter than me and she can deepthroat like a pro. I don't deserve her. I'm not sure anyone does. The sick part? I was still only 99% happy. So why the 1% hold-out? I'll be blunt: she wouldn't let me put it in her ass. I know, I know, I'm an ungrateful bastard. I'd tried everything to get her in mood for anal. Soft music. Massages. Long hot baths. Booze. Pot. We even tried ecstasy once. But nothing worked, I heard the same phrases, over and over. "Exit only, honey." "Why is your tongue in my ass again?" "Slide that dick back up to the right hole or I'll break it off, Romeo." It was driving me crazy. I love my wife. She's gorgeous. I'm in lust with her fantastic little heart-shaped ass. It looks incredible in jeans. In fact, it's how we met. Nine years ago, I picked her up in the grocery store after following her swaying rump and swinging chestnut brown ponytail all the way through the market before working up the courage to ask her out. We hit it off great. But I soon found out that her perfect tush was just for looking. No pokey pokey. Or licky licky. Maybe some rubby rubby, but that was it. Seven years of marriage later, I was going insane. Not being able to take advantage of my wife's callipygian gift was like owning a Ferrari you're not allowed to drive. It just didn't seem right. What? Oh; callipygian is old Greek. It means having an ass of a goddess. The funny part is that my wife was sympathetic. She actually felt bad about not being into anal. No way in hell she was going to do it, but she felt bad about it. For my twenty-eighth birthday, she solved the problem. Did I mention that my wife is smarter than me? I think it was right before the part about her deep-throating like a pro. It started about two months before my birthday. I came home from work and my wife was packing up a cardboard box. It had a really weird mix of stuff inside: chips, pretzels, socks, a roll of duct tape, a fuzzy pillow, some paper towels, a couple of bottles of wine and; I looked closer; A bottle of Astro Glide? And a dildo? And a little ass plug? And a boxed DVD series titled "Assmaster's Vols. 1 through 6"? "Uh, honey?" I reached down into the box to pick up the videos. I was amazed she even knew where to buy things like this. My wife smacked my hand away. "Hey! It's not for you, Tom." "Oh. So who's it for?" "Sorry stud, can't tell you. I'm working on your birthday present." "You're mailing someone else porn as part of my birthday present?" "Yep." "Right. I'm going to grab a beer and go sit on the back porch until I figure this out." "Good luck," she smiled as she taped the box closed. I couldn't figure it out. Something suspiciously similar happened a month later. I had just mowed the lawn and I was taking a shower. My wife came into the bathroom with a digital camera. She took off her clothes, dug a disposable razor and a can of shaving cream out of the cabinet, and got in the shower with me. I saw where this was going when she spread some shaving cream on my nuts. "You haven't shaved my balls since our honeymoon." "I want you to look good for some sexy pictures." "So that's what the camera is for?" "Um hmm." She hummed to herself happily as she finished my sac and then shaved the patch above my shaft too. When she finished, she rinsed me clean and pulled me into her mouth for the deepthroat treatment. Dammit I love my wife. She bobbed and slurped on my seven inch pole and smiled up at me while she did it. Then she popped her mouth free, turned off the water, and grabbed her camera. She used it to snap a few pics of my stiffy from different angles. "Uh, honey. What do you plan on doing with these pictures?" I wondered. "Can't tell you, I'm working on your birthday present." "Right." She ditched the camera and came back to swallow me again. About two minutes later, I was grunting and spewing cum down her throat. She happily gulped over and over again until I finished. Then she kissed the tip of my deflating cock and smacked me on the ass on her way out of the shower, "You're welcome." "Was that part of my birthday present too?" "Nah, that was just a blowjob." She smiled as she picked her camera up and left. "I'm going to figure this out," I yelled down the hall. "Uh huh, good luck," I heard her laugh. I couldn't figure it out. What really threw me was when the delivery guys showed up at our house the next Saturday. They carted off our older washer and dryer and installed a set of new high-capacity, front-loading ones. My wife came downstairs just in time to sign their paperwork. "So what's with the new appliances, Merry?" "Can't tell you, I'm working on; " "My birthday present?" I sighed. "Yep," she smiled brightly and leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss my nose, "Come on upstairs and fuck me, as a thank you. You might as well get a head start. You'll have a lot of thank-me fucking to do after you get your present." I fucked her. I had no idea what I was thanking her for. But I fucked her. Finally, my goddamn birthday came. Nothing freaky happened in the morning. My wife and I both got ready for work like usual. She did give me a nice long smooch as we climbed into our cars and then she told me to get home from work as soon as I could. Of course, it was an incredibly shitty day at work. Worse, traffic sucked on the way home. Fridays are always the ugliest where we live. It was after seven o'clock before I even pulled into the garage. I had to step over a huge, unfamiliar duffle bag packed with dirty clothes laying in the laundry room. The spiffy new washing machine was already going. I made the turn into the kitchen and was happy and sad at the same time. Happy because our old next-door neighbor's daughter was chatting with my wife. Debbie had always been a nice girl. Merry and I were the older brother and sister she never had. She used to hang out at our house all the time. We'd even given her a key. Of course, Debbie had turned into a drop-dead hottie as she grew up too. The friendly and nosy ten year-old I'd met developed into a nubile young heart-stopper before she moved away. I looked at Debbie standing behind the counter next to my wife. Her dark blonde hair, big green eyes, and fit little tennis player's body were probably driving the guys at her college nutters. "Debbie!" "Happy birthday, Tommie!" she grinned. She bounced with excitement and I watched her perky chest bob up and down under her t-shirt. And yet she didn't run over to hug me like she used to. Maybe she'd outgrown me or maybe I was an uncool old guy now. Well, I was nearing thirty. That bummed me out. Plus, Debbie's unannounced visit meant that whatever sexy fun my wife had planned for my birthday would have to wait. I felt old. Old and horny. That's a crappy combo. I had just about lost hope, but I still asked, "So Merry, can you at least tell me what you got me for my birthday?" My wife pointed at Debbie, who was now practically vibrating with excitement. Her brassy blonde ponytail was twitching back and forth behind her head. "Debbie has my birthday present?" "No sweetie, she is your birthday present." I looked at the still grinning teen, "You're my birthday present?" "Yep, I'm your birthday present," she cheered, lifting her arms in the air. Well, it was nice to see her again. Maybe we could go play some tennis tomorrow. Or maybe make a big pitcher of sangria and she could fill me in on the last year of her life since her folks moved away or; That mental train fell right off the track when my wife nudged Debbie towards me and the grinning teen rounded the kitchen counter then bounded over for a hug, crushing her sleek little body into mine. Huh? Debbie was naked from the waist down. "Debbie, you're not wearing any pants." "Nope, and I'm not going to be wearing any tomorrow or the next day, either. So; " I looked at my wife over Debbie's shoulder. "Whoa, you win. As birthday presents go, having a half-naked coed wandering around our; " My wife held up her hand and was biting her lip to fight back her laugh, "Hold on genius, you didn't let Debbie finish." I looked back down at Debbie, she was smiling up at me as she waited patiently. "I was going to say that I'm not wearing any pants so you can fuck me whenever you want while I'm here for the weekend." I felt woozy, the entire world rotated left about three degrees. "Ass only?" My wife, looked at Debbie and arched an eyebrow. "Oh yeah," Debbie nodded and smiled even brighter, "just in my ass though. Sorry, anal only. Merry's rule." In the pause that stretched out after, the first thing I thought to do was look around for some hidden cameras. This had to be a joke. "You're; you're serious?" "Yep," they answered in stereo. My wife made her "patient face" while she cracked open a few pistachios from a bowl on the counter. It's the face she makes when she explains stuff to me. One last time: she's smarter than me. "You see love, I've done a lot of thinking about our anal sex problem. I'm just never going to like it. At one point, I was even looking into hypnosis. But the idea of paying some psychiatrist to put me to sleep and convince me that I liked it in the ass seemed too weird to go through with it." She snickered then shook her head and chewed a few pistachios. She was giving me time to let this sink in before continuing. "The trouble was, I was thinking about our problem like a wife. I should have been thinking about it like a management consultant. When I switched gears, it took all of thirty seconds to figure out what to do about this whole ass sex thing." She smiled as she came over to bat at Debbie's ponytail playfully, "I'm outsourcing it. To an expert." She patted the little blonde's head. "You're an expert?" I looked down at Debbie suspiciously. "Yep, I've had more than my share of backdoor loving. In high school, I let one of the guys on the swim team give it to me in the ass. And I really liked it. He bragged about it in the locker room the next day. After that, there was a waiting list for my ass. The tennis skirts I wore half the year helped too. Great advertising. What is it with you guys and tennis skirts anyway?" she laughed. I couldn't answer because I was still processing. "So you never wondered why I had so many dates in high school, Tommie?" "I just thought you were popular; " "Oh, I was popular all right," Debbie laughed, "And I loved every minute of it too. But I went cold turkey on that stuff when I started college. I don't need that reputation following me up there. Anal was my solution for getting off and saving my virgin cunt for the wedding night." I settled on 3 guys who knew how to make good love to my ass. "Except?" my wife prompted, chewing more pistachios calmly. Debbie nodded. "Except now I miss getting poked in the booty. A lot. Sadly, most guys were awful. But those 3 guys didn't go to my college, and I don't want to start over training college frat boys. So there's nobody to play those games with me at school. I'm going crazy. Of course, it didn't help that Merry sent me that care package chock full of anal porn, sneaky bitch," Debbie giggled. "Or?" Merry's nose twitched proudly. "Or the pics she e-mailed me of your giant phallic wonder" Debbie smirked. My wife grinned. "But Debbie, did it give you some nubbin rubbin' material for those lonely nights up at school? “ The teen nodded. “It also softened you up a little too, before I pitched my hedonistic idea," she admitted. My wife looked up at me, "You see where this is going, honey? You're going to help Debbie and she's going to help you. The clincher for me was Debbie's convenient pledge of reserving her cunt for marriage." She took Debbie by the hips and tugged her away, "Girlie, why don't you bend over, onto the kitchen table there; and show the contestant what he's won? I'm going to go TiVo his usual Friday night TV shows. This experience is going to take awhile." I watched my wife leave. Dammit I love my wife. Debbie grinned and moved to the kitchen table. She planted her sneakers wide-set and slowly draped her little body onto the white lace tablecloth which adorned the oak table top. She bent from the waist and rested her elbows, then looked back at me over her shoulder, grinning expectantly. I looked down. Debbie's bare ass was precisely what you'd think a nineteen year-old star tennis player's ass would look like. It was compact and round and firm. Her toned miniature cheeks made a tight cleavage. There were even two magical little dimples just above her ass on either side of her spine. It was the single hottest ass I'd ever seen. Even hotter than my wife's. Debbie was staring at me as she swished her hips from side to side a little. Her tiny tush swayed back and forth without a single jiggle. Just a smooth flexing of her sleek buns. Oh dear god in heaven. "Go ahead and touch me, Mr. Marsh. Don't be scared. I'm your birthday present." That was dirty pool. She'd always called me Tom. The 'Mr. Marsh' thing was just to mess with me. Of course, it seriously worked. I reached forward and touched Debbie's ass like you'd touch the holy grail, or the ark of the covenant. With reverence, awe, and humility. This was proof that there was a divine power out there. He existed and he had molded this little blonde coed's perfect ass, just for me. Touch it? Oh no, it needed to be worshiped. I fell to my knees in my own kitchen and buried my face between the finest buns I'd ever seen. Debbie didn't seem surprised a bit. She didn't jump. She didn't even twitch. And she certainly didn't wiggle away. No, she actually pressed her ass into my face. And she moaned. "Your wife got me some kiwi-strawberry body wash. Like the smell? I just used it in your shower an hour ago. I wanted to be nice and fresh for you. Of course, I'm happy to go funky too. If that's what you like. I'm game for anything, this weekend." She clenched her cheeks around me gently a few times as she talked, massaging my face with her buns. Debbie knew her ass was phenomenal, and she knew how to use it to drive a guy wild. "I muv mur mass," I muffled out from her ass, refusing to pull away long enough to pay her the compliment. She understood me anyway. "So happy to find a boy who fully appreciates it." She reached back and laced her fingers into my hair and pulled my face into her more firmly. "Lick me," she whispered, "I want you to." My tongue came out on its own and lapped at her tiny pale sphincter, twisting and digging at her tight little knot. "That's it, stud. Keep licking. Oh, I missed this," I heard her groan. "Here, give me your hand too?" She reached back and guided it up to her little mound. Her pussy was completely hairless and perfectly smooth. "Like it Tommie? I sugared myself bare for you last night. It hurt a little but now I'm so smooth and bald for you. I've been looking forward to this weekend. I've been texting Merry about it all week. I was worried she'd back out." Debbie circled my thumb and teased it at the entrance to her already slick pussy. Then she dragged my thumb down her smooth slit and centered it on the hardened nub of her clit. "Rub me a little too? Real gently while you're rimming me. It always makes me cum," she panted. I swirled tight circles on her clit. It was as hard as a little pebble. With some patience, I also pried my tongue through her asshole and drove it in and out of her quivering opening. It was twitching and snapping on my tongue like something small and hungry. Debbie was enjoying this as much as I was. Her pussy juices were soon dripping down my wrist. "Keep licking; almost there; " she mewled. No problem. I could have done this all day. I licked, sucked, and lapped at her strawberry-kiwi flavored ass with glee. What followed was one of the top ten moments of my life. This adolescent goddess twisted through her orgasm with my nose buried between her cheeks. She rode my face, my tongue, and my thumb, grinding and humping as she came. Her movements were so erratic that my thumb slipped off her clit and sank into the recess of her tight wet heat of her pussy. Her vagina was heaving and squeezing just as violently as her asshole nipping at my tongue. "Gaw," she wailed and came harder. I almost blew off in my pants. This girl seriously liked getting her salad tossed. Debbie finally let go of my hair and slumped limply, flat down on the kitchen table, panting to catch her breath. I was standing up and rubbing my knees when my wife swung back into the kitchen. She was carrying a basket of laundry. "So? How was it?" "Awesome," I gasped. "I was talking to Debbie silly," she rolled her eyes. "Well?" Debbie brushed away some of the blonde hair that had fallen out of her ponytail onto her face and looked up. "You are seriously missing out here, girly. He is really, really fucking good at rimming." "I'm going to have to take your word for it," my wife smiled. "Do you wash your work-out clothes with your whites or separately?" "Separate." "Gotcha. So, going to fuck my hubby now, or later?" "Now. And probably later too. He's got my motor seriously running." "All right, but don't kill him. I like having him around. Need me to suck him a little? You know, to get him slippery?" "Seriously? That would be great. I like spit more than lube. A little friction in the bum is better. You feel more." "Yeah, going to have to take your word on that too," my wife half-smiled. She set her laundry basket down and knelt in front of me. "Come on honey, let's get your slacks off so you can put your cock in the nice little girl's ass." My wife had my pants down and my drooling cock in her mouth a few seconds later. I was as hard as I'd ever been. I was getting oral from my wife with a nubile young blonde waiting for me to sodomize her. Maybe I'd died in a car crash on the way home from work because this was my personal heaven. I followed my angel-slash-spouse as she pulled me by my stiffy over to Debbie's insane ass and rubbed my tip up and down the smooth valley between her cheeks. "Sure you're ready for this, Debbie?" my wife asked, "You're not like, out of practice on the whole anal sex thing are you?" "It's like riding a bicycle. I'll be fine.
Wednesday · length unknown
Milf Swim Instructions: Part 2
Milf Swim Instructions: Part 2. Jake goes back to Stacy's home, but is welcomed at the door by John's mom, Beth, Based on a post by SIR__CUMALOT . Listen to the ►Podcast a Steamy Stories. The next day Jake was eager to be there exactly at noon. He barely succeeds. The door swung open before Jake's knuckles even grazed the wood; as if someone had been waiting just on the other side. He blinked against the sudden sunlight refracted through the glass, his eager grin faltering when Beth's amused smirk greeted him instead of Stacy's hungry gaze. The brass knocker was still swinging when Beth leaned against the door frame, her hip cocked in a way that made her sundress ride up just enough to show the tan line where her bikini usually sat. "Wrong door, Jake," she said, her voice dripping with amusement as she nodded toward the identical ranch-style house next door. "Chris lives that way." Her sandal tapped against the welcome mat; Stacy & Chris in cursive letters that suddenly looked accusatory. Jake's cheeks burned hotter than the midday sun. "I;" His throat clicked shut when Beth's gaze dropped to his clenched fists, the knuckles white around the rolled-up beach towel he'd brought as an excuse. “Will there be another swimming lesson? “ Beth's laughter was bright and knowing, her manicured fingers fluttering toward his shoulder like she might pat him. "Relax, champ. Stacy's getting groceries; should be back any minute." Her eyes flicked past him to the empty driveway, then back with deliberate slowness. "John's already at the pool though. You could..." She trailed off meaningfully, her bare toes curling against the welcome mat. Jake's pulse thudded in his ears. The chlorine scent from the backyard pool mixed with Beth's coconut sunscreen; same brand as Stacy's, but somehow sharper. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth when Beth, who is John's mom shifted her weight, the thin cotton of her dress clinging to damp patches under her arms. She'd been swimming too. Jake stumbled forward after Beth unexpectedly gave him a little ass slap, the playful sting lingering on his skin like a brand. Her laughter followed him; bright and knowing; as he blinked against the afternoon sun baking the garden path. Beth's voice curled after him, teasing yet weighted: "Stacy mentioned you're a quick learner." The words slithered down Jake's spine, pooling low in his gut. He glanced back to find Beth leaning against the door frame, one hand braced above her head in a posture eerily reminiscent of Stacy's lazy dominance. Her sundress rode up higher now, revealing the scalloped edge of a bikini bottom that matched the one he'd peeled off Stacy with his teeth yesterday. The sight knocked the breath from his lungs. "Go see John at the pool, Tarzan. He won't be needing swimming lessons anymore. We learned him every swimming trick in the book. Beth's sandals slapped against the patio tiles as she followed him toward the backyard, her steps unhurried. Jake's pulse hammered in his throat when her fingers suddenly brushed the small of his back; a fleeting touch that burned through his thin t-shirt. "Careful," she murmured, her breath warm against his ear as she reached past him to unlatch the gate. "Deck's slippery from the sprinklers." Her tits pressed against his shoulder blade for one dizzying second before she pulled away, leaving him swaying slightly on his feet. The gate swung open to reveal John sprawled across a lounger; not by the pool, but beneath the shade of the oak tree where Stacy had pinned Jake yesterday. John's trunks were conspicuously dry, his skin glistening with what smelled unmistakably like coconut sunscreen. He didn't even glance up from his phone as Jake approached, just lifted a lazy hand in greeting while his other massaged something beneath the waistband of his swim shorts. Jake's breath hitched when Beth's fingers trailed down his spine; too deliberate to be accidental; as she brushed past him toward the lounger where John sprawled. The scent of coconut and chlorine clung to the air, thick enough to taste. Beth sank onto the edge of the lounger with a sigh, her sundress riding up to reveal the same scalloped bikini bottoms Stacy had worn yesterday. Jake's pulse stuttered when she casually draped a leg over John's lap, her toes flexing against his thigh. John finally looked up from his phone, his smirk widening as he took in Jake's frozen posture. "Dude," he drawled, shifting slightly beneath Beth's weight, "you look like you've seen a ghost. Or..." His fingers tightened around whatever he'd been palming beneath his waistband, and his grin turned wolfish. "Something better." Jake's throat went dry as Beth's fingers curled around John's wrist, guiding his hand from beneath his trunks with deliberate slowness. The sunscreen-slick movement made Jake's pulse stutter; too familiar, too practiced. John's cock sprang free, thick and flushed in the dappled sunlight, glistening with the same coconut-scented slickness that still clung to Jake's skin from yesterday. "Jesus," Jake breathed, his trunks tightening uncomfortably as Beth's fingertips trailed up John's shaft with proprietary ease. The sight shouldn't have been erotic; his best friend's mom handling her own son,,his friend like a well-used toy; but the way her thumb swirled over the leaking tip mirrored Stacy's motions so precisely it made his knees weak. The screen door slammed with enough force to make all three of them jump. Stacy stood framed in the sunlight, grocery bags dangling from one hand while the other braced against her cocked hip. The hem of her cutoff shorts rode dangerously high as she surveyed the tableau; Beth's fingers still curled around John's erection, Jake frozen mid-step with his towel slipping off his shoulder. "Don't you start any swimming lesson without me, Beth," Stacy purred, her sandals clicking against the patio tiles as she advanced. "You know better than that." The grocery bags hit the deck with a thud, revealing twin bottles of coconut sunscreen rolling across the concrete. Beth's laugh was unrepentant as she squeezed John's length, making him buck against her palm. "Just keeping him warmed up for you, sweetheart." Her thumb swiped lazily over the flushed head, collecting a bead of precum that she brought to her lips with deliberate slowness. Jake's breath hitched when Stacy stepped between him and the lounger, her back pressing against his chest as she plucked Beth's hand away from John's cock. The scent of her; sun-warmed skin and chlorine and something darker; flooded his senses. Her fingers tangled with Beth's, both women's hands glistening with John's arousal as Stacy brought their joined fingers to her mouth. Stacy's tongue darted out first; pink and wicked; licking a slow stripe up Beth's fingers where they were still tangled with hers. Jake's stomach lurched as he watched John's precum smear across both women's lips when they leaned in, mouths meeting in a kiss that was more teeth than tenderness. The sound of their wet, open-mouthed laughter vibrated through his chest where Stacy still pressed against him. "Endurance training starts now," Stacy murmured against Beth's mouth, her free hand reaching back to fist in Jake's borrowed swim trunks. The elastic waistband dug into his hipbones as she yanked him forward, his hardening cock pressing against the small of her back through the thin fabric. Beth's answering grin was all sharp edges as she released John's still-twitching length, her fingers leaving glistening trails down his abs. John and his own mom; Jake's thoughts stuttered to a halt as the realization crashed over him like a rogue wave. The way Beth's fingers moved along John's cock with practiced familiarity, the proprietary way she swiped her thumb through the precum beading at his tip; none of this was new. The scent of coconut sunscreen mixed with chlorine suddenly made sense in a way that tightened Jake's gut. Stacy turned with a predator's grace, her fingers hooking into Jake's borrowed trunks before he could process the implications. The elastic waistband snapped against his hips and then she yanked them down in one fluid motion, his half-hard cock springing free into the humid afternoon air. "Eyes on me, sweetheart," she murmured, her palm enveloping him with sun-warmed certainty before he could glance back at the tangled mess of limbs on the lounger. The first stroke wrangled a gasp from Jake’s throat before he could process the absurdity of the scene; Beth’s manicured fingers wrapped around John’s cock with the same practiced ease Stacy had used on him yesterday. The air thickened with coconut oil and salt as Beth leaned in, her tongue darting out to catch the bead of precum trembling at her son’s tip. Jake’s hips jerked forward into Stacy’s grip involuntarily, his brain short-circuiting when John groaned; not in embarrassment, but in familiar pleasure. "Mom; fuck;" John’s head thudded back against the lounger, his thighs spreading wider as Beth’s thumb pressed into his frenulum. The wet sound of her lips closing around him made Jake’s balls tighten, Stacy’s fingers mirroring the rhythm on his own aching length. Jake's knees buckled when Stacy twisted her wrist on an upstroke; the exact same motion she'd used to wreck him yesterday; just as Beth hollowed her cheeks around John's cock with a wet, obscene pop. The lounger creaked dangerously beneath their combined weight, the scent of sex thick enough to taste. Stacy's thumb swiped over Jake's leaking tip, her fingers tightening just enough to make his vision blur at the edges. "Watch closely," she breathed against his ear, her free hand guiding his chin toward the tangled mess of limbs on the lounger. Beth's sundress had slipped off one shoulder, the fabric pooling around her waist as she straddled John's thighs. Her fingers worked his shaft with the same lazy, knowing strokes Stacy had taught Jake by the pool; thumb swirling over the head on every third pass, just like clockwork. The lounger groaned beneath John’s writhing hips as Beth’s tongue flicked up the underside of his cock; slow, teasing strokes that made Jake’s own pulse throb where Stacy’s fingers tightened around him. A bead of precum dripped onto Beth’s wrist, glistening in the dappled sunlight before she lifted her gaze to Jake. Her lips curled around John’s tip as she swallowed him deeper, the wet suction audible even over the cicadas humming in the oak tree. “See how she takes him?” Stacy murmured, her breath scalding Jake’s ear as her thumb pressed into his slit. “No teeth. Just warm, wet pressure.” Her fingers sped up, matching Beth’s rhythm stroke for stroke. Jake’s thighs trembled when Stacy suddenly dropped to her knees in front of him, her free hand pushing his hips back against the patio wall. “Now watch mommy’s mouth.” Jake's breath hitched when Stacy's lips hovered inches from his throbbing cock, her breath hot against the flushed skin. "Mommy's sweet boy," she murmured, the words curling around him like smoke. His hips jerked forward involuntarily, his cock bumping against her bottom lip; leaving a glistening smear of precum on the plush flesh. "My mom would for sure never do this!" Jake whispered hoarsely, his fingers tangling in Stacy's sun-bleached hair. The contrast between her maternal tone and the filthy way her tongue darted out to lick his tip made his knees wobble. Stacy pulled back just enough to smirk up at him, her thumb circling the base of his cock with deliberate pressure. "Don't be so sure about that, stallion," she purred, her breath warm against his leaking slit. The pet name sent another pulse of precum dribbling down his shaft; right onto her waiting tongue. "You'd be surprised what moms do when their boys come home all grown up." A strangled noise escaped Jake's throat as Beth's wet moans carried across the patio; the slick, rhythmic sounds of her mouth working John's cock drowning out the cicadas. Stacy's fingers tightened around Jake's hipbones when he tried to glance toward the lounger, forcing his gaze back to her pink, parted lips hovering inches from his erection. Jake's cock twitched violently against Stacy's lower lip as another thick string of precum oozed from his flushed tip; the translucent fluid catching the sunlight like molten pearl before splashing across her tongue. She hummed approvingly, swirling the salty-sweet liquid around her mouth with theatrical relish before swallowing with an exaggerated moan that vibrated against his shaft. "Mmm, just as sweet as yesterday," Stacy purred, her fingers kneading Jake's trembling inner thighs while her other hand stroked him slowly. Her thumb pressed into the sensitive spot beneath his cockhead, coaxing another glistening droplet to the surface. "Look at you;" She darted forward to lick the fresh bead away, her lips smacking obscenely. "; still so eager after last time." Beth's sudden laughter cut through the humid air like a whip crack. "Swap!" she called from the lounger, her voice breathless around John's cock. She pulled off with a wet pop that made Jake's hips jerk forward involuntarily. "I wanna have a new taste!" Jake's stomach lurched as Beth shoved herself off John's lap; her sundress hanging open to reveal tits glistening with sunscreen and her son's spit. She stumbled the first step, her thighs slick where she'd been grinding against John's hip, before righting herself with predatory grace. The discarded bikini bottoms; identical to Stacy's; clung to her damp folds as she crossed the patio in three long strides. Stacy's lips brushed the weeping tip of Jake's cock in a chaste, teasing kiss before pulling away with a smirk. "Mommy needs to share," she purred, licking the taste of him from her lips as she swayed backward on her heels. The sudden absence of her warmth left Jake swaying on his feet; until Beth's manicured fingers closed around his shaft, her touch instantly hotter, tighter than Stacy's had been. Beth's laughter curled around him like smoke as she dropped to her knees where Stacy had been moments before. "Don't look so nervous, sweetheart," she murmured, her breath ghosting over his flushed skin. Jake's hips jerked when her tongue darted out; not to lick, but to collect a stray droplet of precum that had trailed down his length. The wet stripe of sensation made his thighs tremble. Behind them, Stacy's sandals clicked against the patio tiles in a slow, rhythmic tap that matched the pulse throbbing in Jake's cock. She moved with liquid grace; hips swaying, fingers trailing along her own collarbone as she approached the lounger where John sprawled. The slide of her tank top over sun-warmed skin was the only warning before she peeled it off with one fluid motion, tossing it toward the pool where it landed with a wet slap. John's groan vibrated through the humid air as Stacy hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts. The denim slid down her thighs with agonizing slowness, revealing the red bikini bottoms Jake had peeled away with his teeth yesterday. They clung to her damp folds as she stepped out of the shorts, one foot braced against the lounger between John's spread legs. Beth's fingers tightened around Jake's shaft just enough to make his breath hitch. "Eyes on me, baby," she purred, her tongue swirling around his tip in lazy circles. The wet heat of her mouth was a brand against his oversensitive skin, pulling another helpless twitch from his cock. Behind her, the lounger creaked dangerously as Stacy straddled John's lap; her bare back to them, the strings of her bikini top already undone. The scent of sex thickened the air as Beth took Jake's cock in her mouth, her lips stretching around his girth with practiced ease. He never had a blowjob before, and this is john's mom doing it right here, right now. A moan vibrated against his shaft when her nose pressed into the coarse curls at his base; the sound muffled but unmistakably pleased. Jake's fingers tangled in her hair automatically, the silken strands slipping through his grip like water. The bikini bottoms hit the concrete with a wet slap, and Jake's breath caught in his throat as Stacy arched her back; slow, deliberate; letting the afternoon sunlight glint off her dripping folds. She hooked two fingers into herself with a satisfied hum, spreading her swollen lips for John's hungry gaze before dragging her slickness up to circle one peaked nipple. "Hmm;" John's voice cracked as Stacy swung one leg over his face, her thighs framing his cheeks with the ease of someone who'd done this a hundred times before. She didn't sink down immediately, just hovered there; taunting; while her fingers trailed down her neighbor's son's chest to wrap around his leaking cock. The wink she threw Jake sent blood rushing south so fast he swayed on his feet. Beth's fingers curled tighter around Jake's shaft; an unspoken command; just as her tongue flattened against his leaking tip. The sudden pressure wrenched a gasp from his throat before he could process the absurdity of her lips stretching around his cock while her own son groaned beneath Stacy's thighs just feet away. Her nails scraped lightly down his inner thigh, the sharp sting grounding him even as her mouth engulfed him deeper; hotter; than Stacy ever had yesterday. Jake's knees buckled when Beth hollowed her cheeks unexpectedly, the wet suction pulling another pulse of precum from his throbbing slit. She moaned around him; actually moaned; as she swallowed it down, her manicured fingers kneading his balls with possessive familiarity. The lounger creaked violently behind them as Stacy finally sank onto John's face, her thighs clamping around his ears while her hand worked his cock in brutal counterpoint to Beth's rhythm. Beth's fingernails dug into Jake's hips as she took him deeper than he thought possible; her throat fluttering around his cock in hot, rhythmic pulses that made his vision blur at the edges. The wet gagging sounds vibrated through his shaft as she pulled back just enough to swirl her tongue around his frenulum, then plunged down again with relentless hunger. Jake's fingers convulsed in her hair when her nose pressed flush against his abdomen, the slick pop of her lips releasing him only to swallow him whole again sending electric shocks down his spine. Across the patio, Stacy's thighs trembled where they bracketed John's face; her cunt dripping onto his tongue with every slow, deliberate rock of her hips. The obscene squelch of her folds against his mouth synced perfectly with the wet slurps coming from Beth's throat as she bobbed on Jake's cock. Stacy's hand worked John's shaft in tight, twisting strokes that made his hips jerk off the lounger; his precum smearing across her knuckles with every upward tug. Jake's vision swam as Beth's throat convulsed around his cock; each desperate swallow sending ripples of pleasure up his spine. He watched, mesmerized, as Stacy lifted her glistening fingers from John's shaft and brought them to her lips with deliberate slowness. Her tongue darted out to lick the smear of precum from her knuckles, eyes locked on Jake as she sucked each digit clean with theatrical relish. Then she lunged. John's choked cry mingled with the wet slap of Stacy's lips enveloping his cock in one fluid motion; her cheeks hollowing instantly as she took him deep. Jake's hips jerked forward involuntarily at the sight, his cock sliding deeper down Beth's throat until her nose pressed flush against his pelvis. The vibration of her gagging moan traveled straight to his balls. Beth pulled back just enough to gasp; her lips slick and swollen; before plunging down again with renewed hunger. Jake's fingers tightened in her hair as he started rocking forward, fucking her throat in shallow thrusts that made her eyes water. Across from them, Stacy's head bobbed with frenzied intensity, her hand working the base of John's shaft in tight twists whenever her lips pulled back. Jake's thighs tensed with the telltale tightening of imminent release, his fingers instinctively gripping Beth's hair tighter as he choked out a warning. "Gonna; Beth, I'm cumming;" The words came out ragged, barely coherent between panting breaths. Beth's answer
Tuesday · length unknown
Milf Swim Instructions: Part 1
Milf Swim Instructions: Part 1. My friend's mom offers me swim lessons. Based on a post by SIR__CUMALOT . Listen to the ►Podcast a Steamy Stories. Introduction: Stacy is a petite milf and her son's best friend is hanging around at her garden pool. The shy boy admits he can't swim. Stacy offers to give him some private swimming lessons. The chlorine smell always brought her back to that summer job at sixteen; lifeguarding at the municipal pool, watching teenage boys cannonball into the deep end with more enthusiasm than skill. Stacy hadn’t thought about those days in years, not until now, with her son’s friend hovering at the edge of her pool like a nervous heron. He walked in 15 minutes ago not knowing Chris wasn't around, or did he? "You gonna stand there all day, Jake?" she called from the lounge chair, lowering her sunglasses just enough to watch him shift his weight from foot to foot. The kid was tall, lean, all elbows and knees stuffed into borrowed swim trunks that hung a little too loose on his hips. Jake’s fingers twitched at his sides, his gaze darting between the shimmering water and Stacy’s amused smirk. "I, uh; never really learned how to swim," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. The confession came out in a rush, like he’d been holding it in all afternoon. "My dad always said he’d teach me, but…" He trailed off, shrugging as if it didn’t matter, but the way his shoulders hunched told a different story. Stacy pushed herself up from the lounge chair, the sun warming her bare shoulders as she crossed the patio toward him. "Well, today’s your lucky day," she said, her voice softening just enough to take the edge off his embarrassment. She stopped a foot away, close enough to see the faint flush creeping up his chest. "First lesson: nobody drowns in four feet of water. Not on my watch." She dipped a toe into the pool, sending ripples fanning out toward him. "Come on. I won’t let go until you say so." The water was cooler than Jake expected when Stacy finally coaxed him in, her fingers wrapped around his wrist like a promise. He flinched, then laughed; nervous, high-pitched; as his feet found the textured bottom of the pool. "See?" Stacy murmured, stepping back just enough to let him feel the buoyancy without panic. "Not so scary." Her sundress clung to her thighs where the water kissed the fabric, turning the pale yellow material translucent. Jake's gaze flickered downward, then snapped back up, his ears burning. They started with the basics; how to float, how to kick, how to cup his hands just right to push the water behind him. Stacy’s palms slid along his back, his stomach, guiding him with a firmness that left no room for hesitation. "You’re overthinking it," she teased when he stiffened under her touch, his arms flailing like a marionette with cut strings. "Relax. The water’s got you." And then, softer, as her hand drifted lower to steady his hips: "I’ve got you." Jake's laughter settled into something quieter, more breathless, as Stacy's fingers lingered at his waistband, the water sloshing between them in lazy waves. He'd stopped flailing, finally trusting the pool; trusting her; enough to let his body go loose under her guidance. The late afternoon sun painted the surface gold where it caught the ripples, and Stacy watched the way Jake's throat worked when he swallowed, his pulse jumping under damp skin. "You're a quick learner," she murmured, letting her thumb brush the divot of his hip bone before pulling away. The words hung between them, loaded in a way that had nothing to do with swimming. Jake's grin was boyish, grateful, until his eyes dropped to where her dress clung to her chest, the outline of her nipples visible through the wet fabric. He looked like he might apologize, but Stacy just tossed her head back and laughed, shaking water from her hair. "Relax, kid. It's not like you've never seen tits before." Jake's laugh came out strangled, his gaze darting away as he splashed water toward her playfully. "Not; not like yours," he admitted, voice cracking halfway through the sentence. The admission hung between them, raw and electric, and Stacy felt it like a current under her skin. She let the silence stretch just long enough to watch him squirm, then reached for the inflatable ball floating near the steps. "Catch," she said, tossing it underhand. Jake fumbled, the ball bouncing off his fingertips before he grabbed it with both hands. Water sluiced down his chest as he straightened, the muscles in his abdomen tightening under droplets that caught the sunlight. Stacy licked her lips without thinking, her own pulse picking up as she waded backward into deeper water. "Come on, hotshot. Show me what you've got." The ball arced through the air, Jake's throw stronger than he'd intended; it landed with a wet smack against Stacy's collarbone before plopping into the water between them. He winced, but she just grinned, scooping it up with one hand while the other pushed damp hair from her forehead. "Not bad," she said, spinning the ball on her fingertips. "But aim for my hands next time, unless you're trying to leave a mark." Jake's throat worked as he watched her, the way her shoulders flexed when she lifted the ball again, the way her wet dress clung to every dip and curve. He swallowed hard, his borrowed trunks suddenly tighter than they'd been a minute ago. Stacy pretended not to notice, tossing the ball back with a gentler arc. It landed neatly in Jake's palms this time, his fingers closing around it with more confidence. Jake's grip tightened around the ball, his knuckles whitening as he hesitated; something flickering behind his eyes that wasn't just nerves about swimming anymore. Stacy tilted her head, watching the way his breath hitched when she took a slow step closer, the water rippling between them. "You keep staring at me like that," she murmured, plucking the ball from his hands and letting her fingers graze his palm, "and I'm gonna start thinking you want more than just swimming lessons." The air between them crackled, thick with chlorine and something hotter. Jake opened his mouth; probably to stammer some half-hearted denial; but the words died when Stacy reached up to brush a droplet from his collarbone, her touch lingering. His breath stuttered, his chest rising sharply under her fingertips. "Relax," she whispered, her thumb tracing the line of his throat. "You're shaking like a leaf." "Let's get out for a break," Stacy said, her fingers trailing down Jake's arm as she stepped backward toward the pool steps. The water rippled around her thighs as she climbed out, the yellow sundress clinging to her curves like a second skin. "You can lay out for some sun while I grab us some icy drinks." She tossed a towel toward Jake, watching him catch it with fumbling hands before squeezing water from his hair. Jake hauled himself onto the concrete, his trunks sagging with the weight of water. He spread the towel over the lounger next to Stacy's, hesitating before lowering himself onto it. The sun baked his shoulders immediately, warmth seeping into his skin. He glanced sideways as Stacy bent over the cooler, the hem of her dress riding up just enough to reveal the back of her thighs. His throat went dry; drier than the chlorine had left it. Stacy straightened with two sweating cans of lemonade, the condensation dripping over her fingers. "Here," she said, pressing one into Jake's hand, her thumb brushing his knuckles deliberately. She perched on the edge of her lounger, the fabric of her dress gaping slightly as she leaned forward. Jake's gaze flickered downward before he snapped it up to her face, but she just smirked, taking a slow sip of her drink. "You're staring again." Jake's can fizzed as he popped the tab, the sound startlingly loud in the thick afternoon air. "Sorry," he muttered, wiping his damp palm on his thigh. "I just;" He broke off, shaking his head, and Stacy laughed, low and warm. Stacy stretched her arms overhead, the damp fabric of her sundress clinging indecently as she arched her back. "Christ, I need to dry off properly," she muttered, more to herself than Jake. Then, with a sideways glance at him, she hooked a thumb under one strap. "You gonna have a problem if I go topless? This dress won’t dry if I keep it on." Her smirk was playful, but her eyes tracked his reaction like a cat watching a mouse. "Ground rules, though; no staring, young stallion. I am your friend’s mother." Jake’s lemonade can crumpled slightly in his grip. His throat worked like he was trying to swallow a golf ball. "I; uh. No. No problem." The lie was so transparent Stacy could’ve read it through fogged glass. She laughed, slow and throaty, as she peeled the dress up over her hips, revealing the slick black bikini bottoms beneath. Jake’s gaze skittered away like a dropped penny, landing somewhere near her left knee. Jake’s fingers twitched around the crumpled can as Stacy peeled the sundress higher, the fabric clinging for a heartbeat before surrendering to gravity. He fixed his gaze on the pool’s shimmering surface, where sunlight fractured into a thousand liquid diamonds. His throat clicked when he swallowed, the sound louder than the cicadas humming in the oleander bushes. "Relax," Stacy murmured, her voice ripe with amusement as the dress pooled around her waist. "It’s just a bikini, Jake. Not my first rodeo." She shimmied the fabric over her shoulders, letting it slither down her arms before tossing it onto the lounger with a wet slap. Jake’s peripheral vision caught the flash of red; thin straps, barely-there triangles; before he squeezed his eyes shut like a kid avoiding a horror movie jumpscare. Jake's eyelids fluttered open against his better judgment, the red bikini top searing into his vision like a brand. Stacy's skin glowed under the late afternoon sun, droplets of pool water still clinging to the slope of her collarbone. She arched her back, running both hands through her damp hair, and Jake's pulse stuttered when her chest lifted with the movement. The straps of her bikini dug into her shoulders, the fabric straining just enough to hint at the softness beneath. Stacy's fingers hooked under the bikini top's clasp with practiced ease, the red fabric snapping loose before pooling on the lounger beside her. Jake's breath hitched; a sharp, involuntary sound; as her small tits lifted free. "Relax," she murmured, though her own pulse fluttered when she caught his dilated pupils tracking her every movement. "Sunblock's a bitch to apply on your own back." She squeezed a dollop of coconut-scented cream into her palm, the white blob stark against her tanned skin. Jake's fingers dug into the lounger's plastic weave as Stacy smoothed the cream over her shoulders, her thumbs working slow circles into the muscle. She arched her spine, dragging her palms down the knobs of her vertebrae with a satisfied hum. "Forgot how good this feels," she admitted, tilting her head to glance at Jake over her shoulder. His throat bobbed as she reached behind herself, fingers stretching toward the unreachable spot between her shoulder blades. "Always miss this damn patch," she sighed, shaking her head with exaggerated frustration. Stacy twisted her arm at an awkward angle, fingers stretching toward the unreachable patch between her shoulder blades. "Christ," she muttered, shaking her head as the sunscreen dribbled down her wrist. She glanced over her shoulder at Jake, whose grip had turned the lounger's plastic weave into a crumpled mess. "You gonna help a lady out, or just sit there looking like you've seen the second coming?" Jake's swallow was audible. "I;" His voice cracked. "Shouldn't; shouldn't Chris be home soon?" Stacy's laugh was low, deliberate, as she twisted the cap back onto the sunscreen bottle with a soft click. "Chris is elbow-deep in drywall dust at his dad's place for the next three days," she said, watching Jake's fingers tighten around the lounger's edge. "Turns out helping your ex-husband renovate a garage is way more appealing than watching your mother lounge by the pool." She arched one eyebrow, the sunblock glistening on her shoulders. "Lucky you." Jake's pulse pounded in his temples as Stacy turned her back to him fully, presenting the smooth expanse of skin between her shoulder blades. A droplet of water slid down the dip of her spine, disappearing into the waistband of her bikini bottoms. "Boy, get on with it before my back starts to burn," Stacy said, tossing the sunscreen bottle into Jake's lap with deliberate carelessness. The plastic hit his thigh with a soft thud, jolting him from his stupor. Jake fumbled with the bottle, his fingers slipping on the cap before finally twisting it open. The coconut scent hit him like a wave; thick and sweet, mingling with the chlorine still clinging to his skin. He squeezed too hard; a glob of white cream oozed over his fingers, warm from sitting in the sun. "Sorry," he muttered, wiping his hand hastily on his thigh before realizing he'd just smeared sunscreen across borrowed swim trunks. "If I didn't know that was sunscreen, you would have been in serious trouble, young man," Stacy teased, watching Jake's mortified expression as he stared at the white streak on his thigh. Her lips curled at the edges as she added, "I would have called your mother. "Get on with it, boy," Stacy murmured, stretching her arms overhead in a lazy arc that made the muscles along her back ripple invitingly. The sunscreen bottle sat heavy in Jake’s lap, its weight disproportionate to how thoroughly it paralyzed him. She glanced over her shoulder, catching the way his throat worked as he stared at the expanse of bare skin before him. "Unless you’d rather I ask someone else?" The challenge in her voice was deliberate, edged with amusement. Jake’s fingers finally unclenched from around the bottle. He squeezed a dollop onto his palm; too much, again; and hesitated before making contact. The first brush of his fingertips against her shoulder blades was featherlight, tentative, like he was afraid she might dissolve under his touch. Stacy sighed, arching into it. "God, yes," she breathed, her voice dropping an octave. "Harder, Jake. I won’t break." Jake's hands stilled on Stacy's back when she let out a contented hum, her skin now slick and golden under his palms. "Your turn," she murmured, rolling her shoulders before twisting to face him. The movement made her bare chest sway slightly, and Jake's gaze flickered downward before snapping back up, his ears burning. Stacy smirked as she plucked the sunscreen from his trembling fingers. "Lie down. Unless you want to fry like an egg out here." The lounger creaked under Jake's weight as he stretched out on his stomach, pressing his face into the warm plastic weave. Stacy straddled his thighs, her bare skin brushing against the backs of his knees as she squeezed another dollop of sunscreen onto her palm. The first touch of her hands against his shoulder blades made him jerk involuntarily; her fingers were cooler than he expected, slick with coconut-scented cream. "Jesus, you're wound tighter than a grandfather clock," Stacy muttered, digging her thumbs into the knot between his shoulder blades. Jake hissed, his fingers clutching the lounger's edges as she worked the tension loose with slow, deliberate circles. Her nails scraped lightly down his spine, tracing each vertebra before fanning out over his ribs. "Breathe, kid. You're holding your breath like you're underwater." Jake exhaled shakily, his muscles reluctantly yielding under her touch. Stacy's hands moved lower, kneading the dimples at the base of his back with a firmness that bordered on painful. A groan escaped him before he could choke it back, muffled against the lounger. Stacy chuckled, the sound vibrating through her chest as she leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. "That's it," she murmured, her fingers skating down to the waistband of his trunks. "Let go." Jake’s breath finally eased as Stacy’s hands worked magic along his spine, her thumbs pressing into the tight knots with just the right amount of pressure. The coconut scent of the sunscreen mingled with the warmth of her skin, and he found himself melting into the lounger, tension draining from his shoulders like water through cupped hands. Her fingers traced the contours of his muscles with a confidence that left no room for hesitation; digging into the hollows between his ribs, skating along the ridges of his scapula, kneading the tense cords of his neck until his head lolled forward with a contented sigh. "See?" Stacy murmured, her voice low and honeyed as she dragged her palms down the length of his back. Her touch lingered at the waistband of his trunks, fingertips teasing the dip just above the fabric. "Told you you'd relax." Jake hummed in agreement, too boneless to form words, his eyelids heavy. The sun baked his skin, the heat blending with the slick glide of her hands until he couldn’t tell where one sensation ended and the other began. Jake's eyelids fluttered as Stacy's hands worked lower, her fingers skating dangerously close to the waistband of his trunks. The slow, rhythmic pressure of her palms against his lower back sent an unexpected jolt of heat pooling in his gut. He shifted slightly, suddenly hyperaware of the growing tightness in his swim trunks; thankful for the way the lounger pressed against his stomach, hiding what her touch was doing to him. Stacy's fingers paused just above the elastic band, her nails tracing idle circles over the small of his back. "You're still tense down here," she murmured, her voice thick with something that wasn't quite concern. Jake held his breath as her thumbs dipped beneath the waistband, just enough to make his hips twitch involuntarily against the plastic weave. The sound of her soft chuckle skated across his skin. "Relax, Jake. I'm just getting the hard-to-reach spots." Stacy squeezed another dollop of sunscreen into her palm, the white cream warming instantly against her skin. Her fingers trailed down Jake's spine; slow, deliberate; until she reached the hem of his trunks. The fabric clung damply to the curve of his ass, and she smirked at the way his breath hitched when her fingertips grazed the back of his thighs. "Forgot your legs," she murmured, kneading the cream into his hamstrings with firm, circular motions. "Sunburn here would make sitting in class tomorrow real fun." Jake groaned into the lounger, half from the pressure of her thumbs digging into his tight muscles, half from the way her nails scraped lightly over his sensitive skin. The scent of coconut thickened between them, mingling with the chlorine and something muskier; something uniquely Jake that made Stacy's pulse skip. Her hands drifted lower, tracing the hollows behind his knees, and his whole body jerked when she hit a ticklish spot. Stacy's hands slid lower still, her fingers curling around Jake's calf with surprising strength. The muscles tensed under her touch, taut from years of basketball and nervous energy. She pressed her thumbs deep into the corded flesh, working out knots he didn't even know he had. "Jesus," Jake breathed, his voice muffled against the lounger as her palms glided down to his ankle. "You're; ah; really good at this." "Mmhm," Stacy hummed, her fingers circling the delicate bones of his foot with deliberate precision. Her thumbs dug into the arch, earning another choked sound from Jake as his toes curled involuntarily. "Sensitive?" she teased, applying more pressure until his leg twitched. The sight of his reactions; the way his fingers clutched at the plastic weave, the flush creeping up the back of his neck; sent a curl of heat low in her belly. Stacy's fingertips danced higher along Jake's inner thigh, the coconut-scented sunscreen leaving a slick trail just beneath the hem of
November 8 · length unknown
The Nymph's Pool: Part 2
The Nymph's Pool: Part 2. Two teens join the ancient secret society of the Nymph Pool. Based on a post by WatchingCloud. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time. "Needless to say, we did a lot of skinny dipping in those years," Mike said. "Carol and I, both of your parents, and a couple others, we were down here almost every nice weekend for several years. Lots of good times." "Sounds like it," Maya said. "Though I have trouble picturing my parents skinny dipping, especially with anyone else." "Oh, you might be surprised about your parents," Mike said. "Both of you." "Anyway," Carol said, perhaps cutting him off, "if Joella meant for you two to find this place, and I believe she did, then it's a good thing she conspired to get us here to share the rules. And maybe just in time, too, since you two are dangerously close to being overdressed for being that far out in the water." "We hadn't planned to swim," Josh said. "But, yeah, we had already talked about coming back tomorrow." "Guess we won't be needing the suits, then," Maya said, giving him a playful nudge and suggestive smile. "What, you still want to come back here with those conditions?" Josh said. "Sure, why not? You got something against skinny dipping?" Maya's eyes locked onto his, her expression challenging. He knew she was searching for something in him, but he couldn't tell just what she was after. Did she really want to go skinny dipping with him? If so, was there more to be read behind that, or was it just in good fun? "Uh, well, no, not really," Josh said. "Guess I just haven't tried it before." "That makes two of us, then," she said, her smile returning. "No time like the present to try something new," Carol said. "Besides, we don't bite. But if you'd feel more comfortable trying it in private first, we can head on back and give you some space." "No, no," Josh said. "If anyone should be giving the other some space, it would be us." "Pish posh," Carol said. "We've done this so many times before, it scarcely crosses our minds anymore. Think it over. No pressure." Mike and Carol swam over to the waterfall, where they let the cool water splash down over their heads. The distance and noise of the crashing water gave Josh and Maya some degree of privacy in which to speak. "Well, what do you say?" Maya said. "Ready to give it a try?" "Hmm; still seems kinda odd doing it with a couple strangers, even if they do seem pretty cool." "Well, I'm fine with them being here," she said. "It's like they're setting the example of how to do it right and not make a big deal of it. Besides, what if something comes up or the weather gets bad and we don't get another chance to come back here? Shouldn't pass up an opportunity when it's trying so hard to get your attention. Besides, we might offend the nymph." "You sure seem pretty relaxed about stripping nekkid," he said. "You always been like this?" "No, not always," she said. "But in the right company, I'm not opposed to going au naturale. And I know you don't have anything to be ashamed of." Josh blushed slightly at the suggestive comment and compliment. "Okay, fine, I'm in." Maya gave him a sly smile and squeezed his hand. "Last one naked fixes lunch when we get back, then," she said. And with that, she slid off the rock and started wading back toward the shore, peeling off her shirt as she went. Josh shrugged in amusement and followed, not in any particular hurry to beat her. By the time Josh reached the shore, his own shirt in hand, Maya was folding her shorts and stacking them with her shirt alongside the shoes. She had her back to him, affording him a nice view of her shapely ass clad in light blue panties. Her entire backside was tanned, so he assumed she must have seen a fair bit of sun in a bikini this summer, a thought that brought additional happy images to mind. Josh folded his own shirt loosely and started a pile next to Maya's. As he started to unbutton his shorts, Maya unclasped her bra and wiggled it off her shoulders and down her arms. He couldn't help himself but to steal a glance at her bared tits, small handfuls with inviting curvature and nipples that were starting to protrude in spite of the warm air. She noticed him looking her way, but only smiled and dropped the bra onto her pile. "Hope you're a good cook," she said. "Hope you like sandwiches," he said. "Too bad we forgot to bring towels, huh?" Maya peeled off her panties, teasing him with only a brief glimpse of her close-trimmed fuzz before she bent over to drop them on the pile. In further confirmation of her summer sunning, she bore sharp bikini tan lines across her ass and around her tits. In spite of the sheer joy of getting to see her nude, there was still a desire to see her in the responsible two-piece. She turned to face him as he folded his shorts with only his boxers remaining. She seemed completely uninhibited and unabashed at letting him see her nakedness, from only a couple feet away no less. He did his best not to stare. "Guess we'll just have to air dry, then," she said. "Can't imagine that should take too long on a day like this. And yes, I like sandwiches." "As this is your first time here, I'd suggest jumping in from that rock next to you two," Mike said, calling out from where he and his wife were still soaking next to the falls. Not ten feet away was a broad rock that jutted out a few feet over the pool, looking like both a nice place to sit or to jump in the water. "Sounds good," Maya called back. "Just waiting on slow poke here." Passing the point of no return, Josh hooked his hands into the waistband of his boxers and slid them down and off. Immediately, he felt the soft summer breeze cool his balls in a way he had never before experienced. Foreign as the feeling was, he had to admit that it was rather pleasant. And thanks to his nerves, he was very relieved to find that he had not become aroused in front of Maya or their audience. Maya, for her part, just glanced down at him and quickly brought her eyes back up to meet his, smiling politely. "Let's go," she said, offering him her hand which he happily took. They climbed up the rock, which was a couple feet above the level of the water and the beach, and walked to the edge. Hand in hand, naked as the day they were born, and standing not twenty feet from the middle aged friends of their parents; and Josh couldn't help but grin in the crazy joy of the moment. It's a singular sort of carefree release that he had never experienced before, enhanced only in that he was sharing it with Maya. "How deep is it?" Josh said. In spite of being able to see the bottom through the reflection of the green canopy above, it was difficult to judge details. "About four or five feet," Mike said. "It's a safe jump, but I wouldn't be trying anything headfirst off there." "Ready?" Josh asked Maya. She squeezed his hand back. "Yup." Together, they jumped in, the cool water offering a brief shock that perfectly quenched the day's heat. And if feeling the breeze on his balls had been novel, floating naked in cool water was an entirely alien and wonderful experience. He reluctantly let go of Maya's hand while she dunked under the surface and swam around a bit on her own. He did likewise, letting the cool water carry away the heat and sweat from his head as he plunged under the surface. "Well, were we right?" Carol asked when both had finally surfaced and wiped the water from their eyes. "It's wonderful," Maya said. "So glad you told us the rules about this place. It just wouldn't be right any other way." "My compliments to Joella for keeping such a lovely little place," Josh said, and everyone agreed. The two of them made their way over to the older couple, joining them under the splashing water of the falls for a bit. Standing at a depth where just their heads made it out of the water, they chatted idly about a range of topics; with the upcoming freshman year of college dominating much of the conversation. Maya stood near Josh, and their hands occasionally brushed, but aside from the otherwise frequent eye contact they made no further intimate gestures throughout. "So, just what sort of wild things did our parents do down here?" Maya said, abruptly changing the topic. "Oh, I don't know if we should tell those stories," Mike said. "Your parents might not forgive us." "We can keep a secret," Josh said. "Besides, you never know when you might need a little leverage." Everyone laughed. Mike and Carol looked at one another for a long moment, trying to read in the other's eyes whether they should or shouldn't pass along any stories. "Maybe a hint," Mike finally said to Carol, who nodded. "Well, let's put it this way," Carol said. "At the age we were back in those days, well, we were a little more hormonally charged." "That's one way of putting it," Mike said, smiling. Maya and Josh looked at one another, both feeling a little awkward at where this conversation seemed to be headed. "One set of your parents were collectively nicknamed the Bunny-Monkeys," Carol said. "Let's just say that was representative of an nearly insatiable need to do the deed as often and as publicly as possible." "Oh my god!" Maya said, bursting into giggles. "I can't see either of our parents being like that," Josh said, floored. Carol shrugged. "Well, things change as you get older, I suppose. Still it's the truth." "Believe her," Mike said, laughing. "I saw it. All of it." "And the other set of your parents, while perhaps a bit more tactful with regard to taking their intimate acts away from the public view, more than made up for it in the volume of their passions." "Screamer and Grunter," Mike said, confirming his wife's account. Josh and Maya just stared at each other in open-mouthed disbelief, and then burst into laughter. Josh couldn't imagine his parents being either of the described couples, but neither could he imagine it was something that Carol would make up about them. It must be true, but oh how they must have changed over the years. "Your parents the screamers?" Maya asked. "'Because I don't think I've ever heard a peep out of my parents." Josh shook his head. "Nope," he said. "Aside from a stray squeaky bed spring that I did my best to pretend I didn't hear, I've never heard a thing." "And I don't see my parents as the blatant exhibitionist types, either," she said. "Or yours." "God's honest truth," Carol said. "But, like I said, we all change as we get older. I'm sure there'll be plenty of things about your youths that you probably won't want to share with your children down the road." Josh sensed that she meant the two of them, Josh and Maya together as a couple, with that statement, though it could be meant in general. Still, the idea had a comfortable feel to it, like it was opening a path that they were meant to walk. "I think that's enough damage for now," Mike said. "We'll leave it to you two to sort out who was who. And you never heard it from us." "Okay, fair enough," Maya said. "But what about you two? Did you two have a reputation?" Josh couldn't believe she was so forward as to ask a question like that. However, Mike and Carol just looked each other and shared a reminiscent smile. In that look, he saw a lot of happy history and all the confirmation he needed that they were not putting them on. "I guess you could say we were the antagonists," Carol finally said. "We had a habit of goading people into trying new things; usually outside their comfort zones." "I don't think we'd have any trouble believing that one," Maya said. Josh had to concur. "Of course, that meant the others gave back as good as we dished out," Mike said. "We ended up doing a lot of creative and surprising things." "And we won't be sharing those stories," Carol said. "Not this day, anyway." "Time?" Mike said to Carol, who nodded back. "Well, we must be getting on our way. We've got plans this evening and need time to get cleaned up and such beforehand." The two climbed onto the shore, and this time neither Josh nor Maya had comfort issues in looking at them or carrying on the conversation. While they were definitely of the same generation as their parents, with bodies that carried the inevitable signs of that age, Josh now saw within them a playfulness and zest for life that he hoped he would be so lucky to have in another twenty-five years. "Let's go say goodbye," Maya whispered in his ear from where they were hanging out in the middle of the pool. By the way she took his arm, he knew she meant to do so face-to-face rather than from across the water. Together, they came ashore as the older couple finished dressing. "It was a pleasure to meet you two," Maya said, offering her hand which the other two readily took. "Absolutely," Josh said, also shaking hands. "Likewise," Mike said. "Hope you two enjoy the rest of the afternoon. Maybe we'll see you around again sometime." Carol, after shaking their hands, turned to face the pool. "Thank you, Joella," she said. "And if you arranged for us to help introduce Josh and Maya to you, then it was our honor." "Thanks Joella," Mike said, giving the pool a short wave goodbye. Josh and Maya stood side by side, naked and dripping wet, until the older couple disappeared from view in the woods. For the first time since undressing, they could actually see one another, and this time without any sort of audience. Almost shyly, they faced one another and took a few moments to appreciate the sight. His heart swelled in almost unbearable appreciation for how beautiful she looked right now; not just a factor of figure and the way the water drops sparkled on her skin, but in the way he saw her both as the girl he had grown up with and the woman she had become in their time apart. It was a beauty of the soul. The silent moment between them stretched until they both felt a little uncomfortable with thoughts and feelings they weren't quite ready to express in words. Maya flinched first, smiling and looking down at the ground for a moment. Josh took the moment to breathe and step back, stretching his arms. "Well," he said, "you wanna stay a little longer?" "Frankly, I'm starving," Maya said. "Yeah, me too," he said, and he was. "But, I'm sure planning on coming back here soon and often," she said. "Like this afternoon?" Josh said it with humor, but he meant it with a bit of hope. He knew that after this experience, the only swimming they would do here in the future would be in the nude. And with Maya, that would never be a bad thing. "Maybe," she said, playfully. "I think I'm gonna take advantage of that big rock to dry off a bit before we head out." They climbed back onto the large flat rock from which they had jumped into the pool. Though little sun made it through the canopy above, there were a few patches of light that dotted the rock and kept it a touch warmer than the ambient air. Maya sat cross-legged and then changed her mind and laid on her back. Josh sat next to her, politely trying to keep his eyes more on their surroundings, until she started talking to him. "Well, was skinny dipping everything you thought it would be?" Maya said. "Not sure what I expected, but yeah, it was fun," Josh said. "So, does this make us nudists?" "Don't they prefer 'naturists' now?" "How about 'strippers'?" They both laughed at that. "I think that only applies if you're more interested in the removal of the clothing than in enjoying the naked experience," she said. "Or if you get paid for it." "Well, if this is supposed to be Nude Day, then I guess I'm good with nudists; or nudies; or nudites," Josh said. "So, which parents do you think were which?" Maya said. Josh leaned back on his elbows and looked back at her, eyes pausing at her tits where the nipples stretched for the sky. She grinned at him, though he couldn't quite figure out what she was thinking. For his part, he was a still a little uncomfortable with the idea of his parents being either of the couples described. "I think I'd be a little more comfortable imagining them being the noisy ones," he said. "But, I still can't actually see them as either." "Same here," she said. She used her toes to brush a leaf off the other foot, the act catching Josh's attention. Damn, she has cute feet, he thought to himself. "Still, can you imagine what it must have been like back in their day here?" she said. "I mean; wide-open, public sex? Even if it is just in front of friends. Must have been really good friends." "Yeah, hard to imagine," Josh said, even as pictures flickered through his mind. "Like this rock we're sitting on," she said, patting the stone between them. "Whichever of our parents were the Bunny-Monkeys, they probably had a lot of sex right here. Perfect spot that pretty much everyone in the pool or on the beach couldn't help but see." "God, they'd kill us if they found out we'd heard about what they were like," Josh said. "Kind of exciting to think about it, though," she said. "Who knew they were so open-minded?" Josh noticed as Maya's eyes drifted down toward his waist while her eyes and smile widened. "Speaking of excited; ," she said. To his horror and embarrassment, Josh realized that all the talk of sex had taken hold of his subconscious and his cock was almost fully engorged where it laid across his leg. He jerked back up to a sitting position so that his back shielded him from her view. His face flushed and he felt his chances of coming back here for more skinny dipping would be dashed if she knew he had any such thoughts about her. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Why?" Maya said, sitting up beside and just behind him. She touched his shoulder gently and leaned her head in over his shoulder. "There's nothing to be sorry about." Her sincerity helped, but he was still embarrassed. "Just, kinda embarrassing." "Did I have anything to do with that?" "Sorta. Kinda." "Then I'm flattered," she whispered in his ear. She leaned in closer, her cheek brushing his ear and her breath warm on his cheek. He shuddered involuntarily at the contact. With her fingers on his chin, she softly rotated his head to face her. "Flattered?" he whispered back. His eyes remained locked with hers as she leaned forward the remaining inch until their lips met. It was soft, tender, and just a little hesitant. After a few seconds, they retreated back that inch, again searching in one another's eyes. He saw reflected in hers what he felt in himself. He leaned into her and they kissed again, longer and harder, eyes closed and breaths held. Maya pulled back after another minute or two, far enough back to look him in the face easily but too far for him to lean in for another kiss without getting up from where he sat. The hand she had placed on his chin worked its way around his neck, the thumb caressing his earlobe. She then slid the hand down his neck and over his chest, briefly teasing the sparse hairs on his sternum, eliciting a smile from both. Her hand co
November 7 · length unknown
The Nymph's Pool: Part 1
The Nymph's Pool: Part 1. Two teens discover their parents' secret swimming hole. Based on a post by WatchingCloud. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time. The cabin was just as Josh remembered from the family vacations of his youth; a sturdy, inviting structure built of native logs, concealing within its bowels three bedrooms and all the amenities of a full-sized house in the city. At least two or three times a year, from as early as he could remember and until his family moved to another state when he reached middle school, he had come here as a guest of the Thorntons. It was the home away from home where he and their daughter Maya would explore the woods for hours on end while their parents played cards or whatever it was adults did when the kids were scarce. With enough begging, they could usually coax the parents to take them down to the lake a mile away for an afternoon of boats, beaches and sunburns. All in all, it was the source of most of his happier memories as a young kid. "Hey there, strangers!" Mr. Thornton said, stepping out on to the front porch to greet them as they unloaded the car and stretched their legs from the long drive. "It's been too long." Mrs. Thornton was right behind and the two of them helped carry their bags into the cabin. Josh looked around for Maya, but saw no sign of her. After the way their last visit went some three years back, he was almost relieved. "So, Josh, how's it feel to finally be done with high school?" Mrs. Thornton said, holding the door for him at the end of the line. "Great," he said. "Graduation couldn't have come quick enough." "Been keeping busy during the summer?" "Yeah," he said. "Mostly working at my dad's office to make some money for college, but I've had a little time to hang out with some friends before we go our separate ways." "Well, I'm sure you'll be able to rest and recoup here. Might be on your own a bit, though, since Maya decided not to come along this year." "Oh?" Mrs. Thornton looked resigned and maybe even a little sorry for him. The girl who had been his closest friend until his family moved had done little but give him a cold shoulder during his last vacation here, spending all her time talking on the phone and scarcely having a word to spare for him except when their parents forced everyone to play a game or go to the beach together. In spite of that, though, Josh couldn't help but feel a little disappointed at her current absence; Maya's presence was inextricably linked to everything that this place meant to him. "Yeah, she said something about having finally found a lead on a possible job for the end of the summer," she said. "But, between you and me, I think she was mostly staying because of her boyfriend Brad." From her tone, Josh was quite sure that she didn't approve of Brad. He just gave a sympathetic shrug. "That's okay," he said. "I brought my laptop and a stack of books I've been meaning to read. I'm sure I'll manage." "Good. Oh, and we had a pool installed since the last time you were here, so you've got that as another option." "Hmm; sounds nice." Josh found himself feeling like the odd man out for most of the first day there, in spite of his parents' and the Thorntons' efforts to try to include him in their conversation. The two couples had been good friends since college and there was always a lot to catch up on now that they lived hundreds of miles apart. He was soon excusing himself to find quiet places to read or hike. Luckily, the cabin was surrounded by hilly forest with countless little trails that meandered under the cool canopy. After the mad dash to the end of the school year and the hubbub with graduation parties, he actually relished the little bit of solitude. By the third day, he had settled into a routine of sleeping in late, hiking away the rest of the morning, swimming and reading by the pool, and then dinner with the parents. The adults were usually driving in to town to shop for antiques or art, or stopping at any of the numerous vineyards in the area, none of which interested him. Once he was able to convince them that he was perfectly happy being alone, everyone was finally able to relax. Late afternoon of the fourth day, with the parents off on another excursion, Josh finished his afternoon swim and went back to his room. He flipped on his laptop where it rested on his bottom bunk and queued up an old Queen album. To the strains of "Somebody to Love," he shed his damp suit and hung it over a hanger in the closet. As he exited the closet, the bedroom door swung open and there was Maya, bags in both hands and a shocked expression on her face. When her eyes dropped down below his waist, his own shock wore off enough to remember to grab his towel to cover up, flushing furiously in the process. When their eyes met again, she wore a look of embarrassment mixed with humor that annoyed him more than it probably should. "Oh my god, I'm sorry," she said, turning her head away but not leaving. "Don't you knock?" he said, regretting the tone of his voice even as the words came out. "I said I'm sorry," she said, defensively. "The door was cracked open and my hands were full." "Yeah, well; you could have still said something so I knew you were there before barging in." Maya looked back at him, her half smile gone and expression hurt. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but changed her mind and closed her lips tight. She set her bags in an empty corner beside the bunk beds, turned on her heel, and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. "You dumb ass," Josh muttered quietly to himself. Regardless of how things had been between them three years ago, he was pretty sure that it wouldn't improve after that. And this time it was his fault. In that first moment when their eyes had met, he saw his old friend and playmate, the one full of energy and ready for adventure. Had he blown a chance to reclaim some of that old friendship? He dressed quickly while his heart rate came back down. On top of replaying his own overreaction, he marveled at how Maya had changed in other ways. Three years ago, at fifteen, she had already grown into a beauty, though in a girlie cute sort of way. Now, however, she had the same tall, lean frame, but carried it with an aura of maturity and confidence. Those blue eyes were sharp and smart, and the smile that tended to favor one side of her mouth was genuine and disarming. But for as much as she he might find her attractive and desirable, Josh knew there was little point in giving it further thought. He was intimidated by beautiful girls. And with Maya, their relationship would always be defined by their childhood, before the physical attraction between opposite sexes could taint them. One thing about her arrival was certain; the sense of complete relaxation that he had been enjoying was now over. Their parents returned soon after Maya's arrival, giving Josh the opportunity to avoid any sort of one on one conversation for at least a little longer. She wasted no time in getting caught up with his parents, while he sat and listened from the kitchen table sidelines. Unlike their last visit, Maya seemed to have shed much of her shallow youth and was now perfectly comfortable and fluent in adult conversation. Truly, she had changed, and he couldn't help but keep looking at her. "Isn't that exciting, Josh?" Josh shook his head when he heard his mom say his name. "Sorry, what?" he said, having dropped the thread to his own thoughts. "Maya's going to be going to Oregon State next year with you," she said. "Oh! Really?" Josh had not heard that, but it gave him just a little thrill to hear that they would be attending the same college and living in the same city again. It had never occurred to him to wonder what she was doing now that she had graduated as well. "What made you decide to come back to your old stomping grounds, Josh?" Maya asked, her eyes engaging and perhaps seeking deeper meaning from his answer. "There are plenty of good schools in California." "Guess I always felt like Oregon was home," he said. "Besides, it's sort of a family thing with it being my parents' Alma mater. Suppose I just always assumed that's where I'd probably go." "Cool," she said, sounding genuinely happy. "We'll have to compare notes about the whole class registration thing. It's kinda overwhelming; in a good way." Their parents took the conversation back over while they finished preparing dinner. Josh and Maya exchanged looks frequently throughout the rest of the evening, even if they spoke little. Whatever may have happened earlier, she seemed to have gotten over it, and that gave Josh hope for the rest of vacation not being a total loss. Josh stripped to his boxers and slid under the sheet of the lower bunk bed. He tried to do a little reading by the small light clamped to the bed post, but found his mind too distracted to focus. He could hear the water turning on and off in the bathroom next door and knew that Maya would be coming back to the room at any moment. He was willing to admit that he was smitten, but that sort of thing happened often to guys his age. More to the point, he just wanted to be confident and comfortable enough to talk and joke with her the way he used to. But what could he say that would sound natural and not corny? There was a soft knock at the door. "Yeah?" he said. Maya opened the door and peeked in. "Everyone decent this time?" she said with a smile. "Yeah," he said, folding his book on his chest. She was wearing a thin, blue cotton tank top and very brief white athletic shorts. It was impossible not to notice the way her shirt clung to her tits, with a hint of nipple protruding. He forced himself to look away so as not to be caught staring. Maya set aside her clothes, clicked off the bedroom's main light, and climbed to the top bunk. Josh was mesmerized by her long, smooth, tanned legs as they disappeared from view above. The springs sagged and squeaked a bit under her weight as she shifted around. Moments later, one hand appeared on the edge of her bunk, followed by her head framed by long brown hair hanging all to one side. "What happened? I thought you always liked to be on top." Josh flushed a little at that, hoping the small reading lamp was dim enough that it wouldn't show. "Well, I thought it was going to just be me, and the top bunk is a lot squeakier than the bottom," he said. She bounced a couple times, inducing a couple uncomfortably loud squeaks from the seldom used springs. "Yeah, I can see that. Is it me, or do these beds seem to keep shrinking?" "Tell me about it," he said. "I have to sleep diagonally just to fit on the mattress." "Is everything okay?" she said, suddenly serious. "What do you mean?" "Well, this afternoon and all," she said. "I guess you had every right to be a little upset, but it seemed like there was something more to it than that." "No, no. It's fine. I just overreacted a bit, I guess." "I'd almost say that you weren't too happy about seeing me here at all." He wondered how she could have guessed that. It was a little distressing that she seemed to be able to read him that well. Could she guess what else he was thinking; in particular about her? Still, it seemed that she was looking to reconcile, so he decided to follow the path of honesty. "Well, there might have been a little of that," he said. "But I'm over it." "Care to tell me why?" "I guess it was mostly because of the last time we came here," he said. She looked puzzled. "What, the time a few years ago? Did I do something?" "Well, it wasn't so much what you did, but rather what you didn't. I seem to remember you spending most of the entire week either on your cell phone or moping about and complaining about being stuck there. You pretty much blew me off for most of the trip." "Oh. I suppose I did do that, didn't I?" "It's not a big deal," he said. "I guess I'd just come with expectations of it being just like the old days when we were younger. Things change." "Well, let me apologize for my behavior back then," she said. "I'll admit, I was going through a phase that I'm not too proud of; when I was only worried about being cool and being seen with the right friends." "Ah," he said. "So I wasn't the right sort; " He made it clear in his voice that he was now trying to tease her. She buried her head in the mattress in melodramatic shame. "Well, no, you weren't," she said. "You were kinda geeky and couldn't seem to talk about anything other than whichever big special effects-laden movie was coming out next, or which one you were missing by being stuck at the cabin." "Oh, so I'm a geek now?" He was willing to keep teasing her now that they were both smiling. It was a bigger ice breaker than he could have hoped. "Maybe a little, but in a good way," she said. "There's a good geekiness?" "Well, let's just say that as you get older, a little bit of geek is indeed a good thing." "I see." "And I'm trying real hard to pay more attention to the things that matter rather than the superficial," she said. "Even if I still seem to make the occasional bone-headed mistake with the likes of Brad." "Boyfriend?" "Ex, as of yesterday," she said, seemingly without regret. "I'm sorry." He wasn't. "Dumb jock," she said. "Not a bad guy, really, but I realized that I've outgrown his type. Not enough geek. So, yeah, that's why I ended up coming out here. Decided that this was what I really needed this summer; friends and family and fresh air." "Well, I'm glad you came," he said. Even though he knew that nothing romantic was likely between the two of them, at least they would have a week and a half together, and it felt like they'd found a renewed bond. "Did you have anything planned for tomorrow?" "Well, most mornings I've been sleeping in a little bit, grab some breakfast, and then go hiking until lunch." "Sounds nice," she said. "Mind if I join ya?" "Certainly." She gave him a big smile and then blew him a kiss before disappearing back over the edge of the top bunk. "Good night, dear," she said. "Good night," he said. That kiss had to have been a friendly gesture, but it was one that inevitably gave him a raging boner that kept him awake for another hour until sleep finally claimed him. When Josh woke, the room was already lit with diffuse sunlight struggling through the curtains. The sound of the shower next door suggested that Maya must be up, since the other two bedrooms each had private baths. The bunk above him wasn't sagging, either, further confirming his suspicions, though how she could have gotten out of that squeaky contraption without waking him was beyond comprehension. His mind soon wandered back to images of Maya wearing that blue top last night, and how it subtly revealed her graceful curves. His hand wandered under the sheets and ran along his cock, teasing it out of the fly on his boxers. He gently stroked, mentally undressing her the rest of the way. The sound of a door opening in the hall outside the room startled him mightily. He crammed his hard-on back into his shorts and rolled onto his side so that the tented sheet wouldn't give him away. A moment later, the bedroom door cracked open and Maya peeked in quietly. "Heya sleepy head, you're awake," she said, opening the door fully. She was standing there wrapped only in a bath towel, held in place with a hand between her cleavage. The bottom of the towel barely reached the top of her thighs. His cock, which had started to soften for fear of being caught, suddenly redoubled in strength. "Yeah, just," he said, trying to sound sleepier than he was. "Was waiting for the shower to warm up when I realized I'd forgotten something," she said. He watched her backside as she crouched down to dig through her luggage. Had she bent over from the waist, he was sure he'd have gotten one hell of a view. She came up, holding a sheer white bra victoriously. "Here it is." He was a little startled at her confidence, and he felt self-conscious for her. "Yeah, good thing to have, I suppose," he said weakly. "Mom asked if we wanted to go to Maple Glen with them today, but I told her we'd pass," she said. "Hope that was okay with you." "Yeah, that's cool." "Good, 'cuz they already left. There's some fruit and other breakfast stuff left over in the kitchen if you wanna hit that while waiting for the shower." She gave him another smile as she closed the bedroom door behind her. Josh listened for the bathroom door to close and then for the shower curtain to be pulled aside. Finally confident that he wouldn't be interrupted yet another time, he jerked off as fast as humanly possible. This could make for a wonderful and frustrating week, he thought to himself. Though it was still more than an hour before noon, Josh was sweating from the mid-summer heat and the exertion of climbing the highest hill for miles around. The heat scarcely registered, however, as he was mesmerized by the view on the trail before him. Maya's tight ass wiggled side to side hypnotically in her snug denim shorts and her strong calves flexed with each step up. A trickle of sweat soaked through the back of her yellow tank top just between the shoulders while her pony tail swung lazily back and forth across her neck. Their conversation tapered off as they neared the peak. He felt a little winded and he sensed that she was as well. For as tough as the hike could be, he was impressed that she hadn't asked to catch a breather or even slow up. Cutting between the last two trees, they stepped into a clearing that offered a magnificent view of the lake in the distance surrounded by all the wooded hills. Maya placed her hands on her hips and soaked it all in. "You're not even breathing hard," she said, clearly a little winded herself. "A little," he said, honestly. "You work out much?" "Four years of cross country," he said. "Without a season coming up, I've slacked a little on my running, but I still get out a few times a week." "Good for you. It shows." "Oh?" "Well, you've certainly filled out since the last time I saw you," she said, pinching his lean abs. "It works for you." He blushed at the compliment. While he was fairly proud at staying fit, he still felt a little self-conscious for being on the thin side. It was a build that had suited him well as a runner, but didn't always make him feel particularly confident. Her words went a long way toward dashing some of those feelings. "Thanks," he said. "How about you? Did you do any sports?" "I tried soccer for a year, but I couldn't commit myself to all the off season leagues and work you had to put in to be any good at it. After that, my interests started to shift anyway." "Yeah? To what?" "Oh, I did a lot of singing," she said. "And later on in high school I got involved in debate and academic decathlon and that sort of thing." "Really?" he said. He was surprised to hear that from her, but it reinforced his opinion that she was pretty smart and comfortable with it. "So, what were you thinking of majoring in?" "At the moment, probably economics or finance," she said. Josh almost choked on the swallow of water he had just taken from his canteen. "An
November 7 · length unknown
Jackie and the Phallic Android Visit: Part 3
Jackie and the Phallic Android Visit: Part 3. An SOS lures Sam into a den of android ravishment. Based on a post by Alizzia. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories. Soon enough, Sam and Jackie were back at work. With the detour notice rescinded, the lighthouse resumed its function: acting as a traffic controller to guide spacecraft of all types through the narrow safe corridor in the neighboring nebula. As usual, the job was a constant, ordered chaos of calls and responses to dozens of ships' radios. In the communications room, ringed floor to ceiling in glowing consoles, Sam stood solidly mag-booted at his terminal, sleeves rolled to elbows, fingers skimming over radio switches and notification lights. Jackie floated about him, flitting like a bee from one glowing console to another, monitoring not just radio antennas, but sensors measuring ship sizes, inventories, and energetic readings from the temperamental and unpredictable nebula. She was a lighthouse-keeper, a comms-engineer, and this was her task. "I've given note to that Navy convoy to follow the greens," said Jackie, kicking off to another console. She held a headset to one ear, typed at a touch panel with the other. "She needs maximum berth. Send a public notice." "Yes, Specialist," replied Sam. He transmitted a notice. "Congestion in queue-isle nineteen. Tell those vacationers to follow protocol and stop sightseeing the nebula." "Done. Politely, of course." "Someone's gone and creamed a buoy. Mark it for replacement when we have a lull." Jackie spiraled to another console, wincing as she kicked with her wounded leg. She looked at a screen, snarled. "Sam, tell that freight hauler to take its queue spot immediately or get tug-droned. It's about to get blasted by a gamma flare from the nebula." "But Jackie," said Sam, looking innocent. "There's no flare warning, so far as my readings show." "I know," Jackie snipped. "It's just he's been dawdling too long and needs an incentive." "Done." "Thanks, Sam," she listened for a moment at another headset, spoke. "Yes, you're green. Adjust your Y point one-one degrees." She poked a red button, switched channels. "Please hold, Liner 404. There's a Navy delay in an adjacent lane." She took the headset off, covered a nearby microphone, turned to Sam. "Sam? Can you do something for me?" "Yes Jackie." "Eat my pussy after this?" Sam smiled. He stretched, lifted one arm overhead. His lats stretched appreciably. "With pleasure, Jackie. I am glad to perform maintenance on my lighthouse keeper." Jackie looked smug, picked up her mic. She maintained eye contact with Sam as she flipped to a radio channel, announced. "Thank you. You are green for entry any time." At that, Sam glowed. They returned to work. - Two hours of work later, traffic had slowed. Only a few craft lined up for departure in the many-laned, three-dimensional queue projected on holographic glass above Jackie's main lighthouse panel. They proceeded according to automated cues, orderly. Jackie, floating nearby Sam's station, stretched, arched her back in the micro-gravity. She hung upside down, smiled at the robot as she did so. Her jumpsuit, partially unzipped, allowed more than a little of one pink nipple, quite hard, to point through. "Believe it or not, Sam," she said, eyes locked on the android. "I'm actually pretty pleased to have company, now." "I'm glad, Jackie." "I should teach you to play cards," she mused, cupping one tit idly. "Blackjack. When we're not too busy fucking, of course." "I'm sure I would like that." Jackie grinned, drifted closer. "Want to; " Suddenly, there was an urgent ringing, a flashing from a panel nearby Jackie. Startled, she quit her musing, rushed to the screen. Distress signal received, it read, showed the details of the craft involved. "Fuck," said Jackie, keying in a query message. A response flashed back immediately, posted by the distressed craft's computer: SOS. This is an automated message from the unmanned ship Organic Carrier Bathsheba. Request urgent assistance. Subthruster failure has caused uncontrolled drift on the following unsafe heading: What followed was a line of vectors and impulse measures. SOS. This is an automated message from the unmanned ship Organic Carrier Bathsheba; "It continues like that," said Sam, shutting it off. Jackie looked at him, stone-faced. "By that vector, at that speed, that ship will be in the corona in two hours. Irretrievable." She moved fast for the airlock. "I need to take a tug out and fix what I can, or she's lost." "You're still hurt," stated Sam, frowning slightly. He stepped closer, touched her shoulder. "I can do it. It's not bad." She moved on. "Jackie." He stepped round her, blocked the hatch to the EVA room. "In this state, you cannot safely take the requisite G-drugs required to sublight traverse to the Bathsheba, and we cannot take the time to travel there at a slower speed. As a synthetic, my body can endure the Gs produced by the traverse without adverse effect." He raised his blond eyebrows. "In any case, sending you would be against regulation. A wounded Specialist is a liability to the Company." Jackie rolled her eyes. "Fine, but you have to let me guide you." "Of course, Jackie. Your skill is greater than my own." "Damn right." Jackie shoved him towards the EVA hatch. "Go save that ship, pretty robot. I'll be on comms." - Minutes later, Sam had shrugged off his red uniform, replaced it with the skintight segments of a void suit. He twisted the bubble-helmet into place, heard the slightly peppermint-scented hiss of a personalized atmosphere equalize within. Through the transparent, circular hatch of the EVA room, Jackie watched him from behind. "You look pretty good in that," she said, eyeing the android's muscled thighs and tight ass, both quite well-defined in their second skin of spacesuit material. Sam acquired, from nearby lockers, a thruster pack, a belt of tools, and a regulation subcompact sidearm. He strapped each, respectively, to his shoulders, thigh, and front, respectively. "Thank you, Jackie," he said, quite serious. He turned. Jackie giggled, raised an eyebrow at the bulge evident in the over-tight front of his suit trousers. Sam smiled. "I find I now enjoy looking at your behind as well." "Get out there and fix that ship, Robot," said Jackie. She kissed the glass separating them, exhaled. When she pulled back, a steamy mark remained. "You can play with my ass when you get back." Sam saluted, blew a kiss, touched the airlock Cycle panel. Soon enough, he was floating free from the station. The endless horizon of space was dominated, lit red purple by the nebula. Outstretched before him, Sam's gloved hands shifted in hue as the great stellar obstacle shimmered and swirled. The android triggered his thruster pack, climbed towards the wide portion of the white, Olympic-torch shaped station, where a mess of antennas and drone crannies clustered, contrastingly steel gray Sam neared the cradle of one or the larger drones, a tug model with a wide molecular clamp arm, and nestle himself in its cockpit. His suit helmet yielded no sound of the outside, save vibrations as his head bumped against the seat back. The cockpit was small and bare bones Merely a seat, protective roll-cage, and pilot's controls stuck atop the usually unmanned ion drone. Sam, at six feet in height, was cramped within. His knees nearly blocked the travel of the pilot's stick. "Your poor knees," piped Jackie, tinny in his ear. She watched his helmet camera feed, presumably in the communications room. "Don't worry, Specialist." Sam fired the engines, squinted as a piercing ionic glow radiated behind him, reflected throughout the bell of his visor. "When I get back, you can help me stretch." "Hmm," said hummed, a hint of lust husky over the intercom. "Think I'd enjoy that." Sam's tug jetted several dozen meters from the station, stopped with a pressurized hiss that vibrated through his helmet. Around and to his left hung, a thousand kilometers wide, the great grid of spaceships queuing for passage through the nebula's narrow, dark pass. Some were small as Sam's own. They flitted, like shiny bees, between craft large as curvaceous, silver skyscrapers. Amidst even these floated behemoths: Navy and Corporation carriers and habitat ships larger than Sam and Jackie's humble lighthouse-station by a factor of a hundred. They sat in space, large enough to form whole chunks of Sam's field of view, all huge windows, stacks of shipping containers, and shrouded engines boiling with the power of suns. Down and below all these ships, growing nearer the nebula's coronal fringe by the second, floated a silver cylinder: the wayward biological carrier Sam was bound to rescue. "Orienting for primary burn," said Sam. He twisted the pilot's stick in precise accordance with a heading displayed on the green holoscreen of his visor. In a flash of ionic light, the little tug drone rotated in space, pointed towards the Bathsheba. "Initiating burn." Sam shut his eyes, flipped a red cover with his thumb, depressed the red button below. There was a blinding flash, and the tiny tug drone tore a white streak through the void. It shot like a little silver comet towards the floating Bathsheba. Its superstructure screamed with vibrational forces as the powerful main thruster ripped a line of fire through black space. In his helmet, Sam's face rippled, melted against G-forces enough to kill a human instantly. His hands flew from the pilot's stick, crossed, compacted against his front by inertia. His lips peeled in a grimace. White, sugary tears ran in forking streams from his bulging eyes. Then, he came to a halt. The little tug coasted for a few hundred meters, burning its front thrusters hard, came to a hard stop. Sam's flesh sprang back into place, only mildly sweated and sugar-sticky from the experience. He worked his jaw, cracked his knuckles. "Sam!" said Jackie, panicked in the intercom. "Sam, are you okay? My instruments say you hit a hundred fucking Gs!" "I am quite safe, Jackie. Thank you." "Shit, Robot. Did you override the burn safeties?" "Yes. The faster I board Bathsheba, the better. We don't yet know the source of her failure, and maximum available worktime may be required." "Shit, Sam," said Jackie, dismay evident in her tone. "Warn me before that sort of thing, okay? I like your ass too much to see that." "Apologies, Dear Specialist. I will." "Good. Thank you." Jackie paused a moment. "Also, I'm radioing Bathsheba to let her know you need to come aboard, but she's not responding. You try? It is an unmanned transport, and two AIs might communicate better." "I shall." Sam turned to view Bathsheba; naught more than a segmented, spinning cylinder with engines and access points. The trademark plain appearance of a utilitarian AI ship. "Carrier Bathsheba," said Sam, broadcasting on the same near frequency the carrier had an SOS on: "Calling Organic Carrier Bathsheba operational intelligence: This is Service Android 7771, system-named 'Sam,' dispatched from Seer-nebula Lighthouse, submitting a request to come aboard and address the failure described in your distress call." Static returned. Sam frowned. He switched channels, repeated his call. "Calling Organic Carrier Bathsheba operational intelligence: This is; " After two more repetitions, two more channels, there came a response. A flat, cool and feminine voice on the other side of the intercom: "This is the OAI of Carrier Bathsheba, sysnamed 'Lee'. Thank you for responding to my distress call. Do you require EVA entry?" "Yes, OAI." Lee replied. "Please approach access gate C and prepare for entry." "Acknowledged." Sam switched channels. "Jackie, I am in contact with Bathsheba's AI and have arranged boarding." "Gotcha. Be careful, Sweet Robot." "Of course, Jackie." Sam maneuvered his tug towards the prow of the drifting carrier. A small hatch, suitable for human access, showed in the hull there. He corrected the tug's course to match Bathsheba's heading and gravity-spin, extended its tug-arm, and connected to the nearest bulkhead. A subtle thump reverberated in his ears as the molecular clamp engaged, bonded to the carrier's hull. Sam extracted himself from the pilot's cage, thrusted over to the gate, which was already open, cycled, in expectation of his arrival. Against the centripetal gravity of the station, he pulled himself down a steel ladder built into the gate for that purpose, flipped, set down on plain, steel-grid decking within, locked his mag boots on the deck, level with the gate he'd just came through. "I am prepared for entry, OAI." "Confirmed. Initiating cycle." The airlock sealed, silent. Air flushed, hissed dustily about Sam, gradually grew in volume. As soon as the wall panel read Equalized, the interior door flushed open. A yellow-lit room, small, circular, similarly decked in steel gridding, showed beyond. It had only one, shut pneumatic door. No one was there. Unperturbed, Sam advanced from the airlock into the room. In his ear, Jackie crackled, unclear. "S-am." Her transmission broke up. "Jackie?" Sam frowned. "Jackie, it seems there is interference produced within Bathsheba. Your connection is not stable." In response, there was only a hiss from the lighthouse. "OAI?" queried Sam, returning to the Bathsheba channel. "Why is this the only frequency without interference? Are you experiencing harmonic issues with your engine cores?" The OAI's tone was calm. "It appears so, Crewman. It took me several attempts to find a stable channel with which to communicate with you. I regret you may be unable to contact your lighthouse." Sam cocked his head. "No matter. I will likely be able to perform required repairs without lighthouse oversight. Do direct me to the malfunctioning systems." Across the room, the door hissed open. "Please proceed, Crewman," said the OAI. "Though, I must notify you of several details before you get to work;' As she spoke, Sam passed through the door, fund himself in a broad, low, steamy room. It was lit from bellow, through a low-entry pool of steaming water built into a window-floor floor like that on the lighthouse station. The chamber extended some five meters back, where its pool reached a depth of five feet. There was a walkable lip along either side and another pneumatic door at the far end. Three meters above the water, their fiddleheads hung through steel grating, hung hydroponics ferns, grown for air purification. The chamber was, in all, very much like a swimming pool. Sam frowned about at the room. "What details should I be aware of, OAI?" he said, examining a fern. Amidst the plants glittered a hint of movement. Sam's gaze shot to it, made eye contact with the black lens of a ball-camera. It glimmered like onyx, turning and focusing its internal apertures as the ship's AI scrutinized him. The OAI spoke, serious. "This is, as you are aware, a carrier ship laden with biological material. Specifically: Empty android bodies." Sam nodded, looked away from the camera-eye, turned a fiddlehead in his fingers. "I see. Bodies ready for an operating system like myself to be installed." "Exactly," said the OAI. "In addition to software, the bodies lack immunity. They are highly vulnerable to infection. In order to reduce risk of pathogenic contamination, it is required that you disinfect before entering further into my interior." The OAI paused. "Before you is a nanobath that will strip you of all dangerous microlife. Please bathe quickly before beginning work." An amused tone entered the OAI's voice for just a moment. "I will provide towels and replacement clothes. You may collect your voidsuit when you leave." Sam beheld the bath, noticed it was ever-so-slightly bluer than usual water, glittered just below the surface. He paused, nodded. "Affirmative." He began to strip. Without modesty, he peeled off the skintight sections of his EVA suit, bared his clear and supple skin, already glistening with condensed stream. He piled them on the window-floor, neatly. By the time he stepped a toe into the heated pool, he was beading with dew. Droplets clung, combined, and rolled from his nose, chest, and long fingertips. A subtle phosphorescence bloomed about Sam's feet as he stepped further into the pool. A clean scent, like the petrichor-musk of plant oils after rain, rose on curling steam. The android's face and chest flushed with heat. The pool was considerably warm. He began to wash, dipping his head beneath the surface and rubbing water into his cropped, blond hair. He reemerged. Liquid sparkled on his cheekbones. As he washed, the OAI spoke. "You are certainly a unit in need of cleaning," she said, voice echoing slightly in the poolroom. "Soon, you'll be as fresh as my cargo. No more fungi, viruses, or bacteria. I see them all, there, on your skin. No more spores, bacteriophages, or; Oh." The voice stopped. "What's this?" It said. Sam cocked an eyebrow. "My, my," said the disembodied voice, its neutral tone abruptly fascinated, quiet. "You are a dirty unit. What is this? Curious little proteins, salt, and;' it paused. "Human DNA. Two X-chromosomes." A sort of huskiness entered the AI's voice. "You've had sexual contact with a female. A human. She's all over you." "OAI," said Sam, reserved. "I fail to see the relevance of your discovery. If any biological material offends your systems, have your nanoswarm clean it as you require. It is urgent we repair your subthrusters in due haste." "Of course, Sam," said the OAI. "And do please call me Lee." "If you wish, Lee." "Hmm," echoed Lee, thoughtful. From the pool, more steam began to rise. Water dropped from the farms above. The pool room rustled with the hiss of steam and gentle plop of droplets. "You are a very aesthetic model, Sam," said Lee. "Whoever designed you surely had a gourmand's taste in masculinity. What model are you?" Sam stood thigh-deep in the water. The little hairs of his body lay flat against his skin. He squinted through the growing steam, frowned as a shadow passed through the vapor near the edge of the pool; flitted with light, silent footsteps. "Ceres-6, Lee. I'm sure your sensor analyses can discern that." He frowned. "Where might the linens you mentioned be?" "We don't need those, Sam," said Lee, playful. In the ferns, the camera-eye winked out. The steam thickened. "You're not sufficiently clean, yet." "Lee," said Sam, voice thick in the heavy atmosphere. "From what my encyclopedia catalogue knows of nanobaths, I am very well clean, by now. What else must I do to disinfect?" "Don't worry, Sam," said Lee. Throaty, chipper. "I'll help you." At the far end of the pool, from where Sam had come, there was a gentle splash of water. Another, and another. The splashes deepened, drew into long, flowing draws of liquid: sound of someone else entering the pool. Sam frowned, looked about, saw nothing in the steam, save the green ferns and sparking blue water just above his head and below his hips. Then, his eyes fixed on it: A feminine shape from the mist close at hand. She walked, slow and relaxed, towards Sam. She was pale, like he, and entirely naked. Thin, shorter than Sam, but possessed of long, shapely limbs and spindly fin
November 6 · length unknown
Jackie and the Phallic Android Visit: Part 2
Jackie and the Phallic Android Visit: Part 2. Jackie's appetites awaken for more of delicious Sam. Based on a post by Alizzia. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories. Sam stood to step away from Jackie's ravished naked body. He was about to sync up to the command Android system for a status and debrief mode. "Wait, no," said Jackie, grabbing his arm and yanking him down onto her sweaty hot body. She rolled up onto him and laid upon his chest. She cuddled and ran her fingers up the back of his neck and head; before biting him on the shoulder. She ground against his hip bone for a moment, still exquisitely wet. Sam's cock bounced against her leg, only a little diminished in its excited girth. "I've been in stasis for too long for one orgasm to cut it." Jackie shifted down, clasped her feet around the android's buttocks. She slowly slid her slick cunt over his shaft, felt him harden completely under her. She craned her neck, kissed him. "I do hope your leg is alright," he said, breaking the kiss. "It's fine. Shut up and fuck me." "Intercourse?" Sam conjectured. "Yup." Jackie said with a horny aggression in her continence. With purpose, Sam took her by the bottom, slowly lowered her to his cock. The phallic head just brushed her cunt lips, became instantly slick. Slowly, gently, he lowered Jackie onto him. Jackie made a face. With an excited hop, she pulled herself down, took the full extent of the android's cock. Sam hummed, throatily. Jackie gasped a little. "That's more like it," she said, wiggling. Girl-cum pooled around the base of Sam's shaft, white and clear. Jackie shifted, bounced on the cock a few times, experimentally. "Just like a real boy," she grinned. Sam's expression had grown serious. The little lines around his eyes deepened. He hummed luxuriantly whenever Jackie bounced. Jackie bit his lower lip, tugged. "Come on." With a few quick motions, Sam flipped her back, tits-up, parallel to his hips. He seized her by the waist, pulled her away, thrust. There was a soft, wet sound. Jackie groaned. Sam repeated, slowly, pulled himself and Jackie together again and again. Jackie let a hand slide to her clit, felt her lips parting for the android's thrusts, just below. She rubbed, watched Sam's body curl and flex with every thrust. "You can go faster, Sam;' He did. Jackie moaned, aroused by the quick, wet thump of Sam's hips against her bottom. She hung there in space, slid side to side in space by strong hands at her hips. Every time Sam filled her up, she exhaled, shallow. "Jackie." "Uh, Sam, don't fucking stop." The android was palpable inside her as she began to clench around him. "Jackie, really, its quite important." "Let me cum first" There was a weird rush in Jackie's ears. They turned suddenly sideways in space, abruptly thumped to the edge of the bed. Jackie lay there for a moment, legs splayed, irritated. "The spin, Jackie," said Sam, where he had landed beside her. "Yeah," said Jackie, climbing atop him. She straddled his hips, picked up his cock to touch her dripping lips. "Whatever," she said, sliding atop him. She hummed. The already girthy cock felt even more substantial, in gravity. She gave a few bounced, ground for a moment, watched the android's eyes flutter. Jackie spread her fingers on the broad chest before her, dug in a little. She started to bounce. "You are a lot like a real boy, Sam," she said, savoring every impact against her clit and mons. She bounced faster. "You feel nice and warm, and hard. Good replication," she said, leaning forward over him, grinding. Their chests touched. Jackie bit his neck, heard his breath speed up. She extended the angle of her bend legs, a bit, invited Sam to contribute to the fucking. He did. Jackie shook, exhaled with every wet impact, slipped her hand between her legs, again. "Good energy, good attitude." She gasped. "Knows how to please a girl." She kissed him, moaned into his mouth. Her thighs began to shake. Her fingers fanned. Sam's thrusts became more powerful as he competed with the clenching walls of her cunt. Jackie shuddered, came. "I am," said Sam, panting as Jackie gripped him, trembling on his now-still cock. "Glad you are satisfied." "Wait," said Jackie, sitting up. Her hair was a sweated mess. "We have to see," she said, panting, creeping down to the android's throbbing phallus. "If they replicated everything." Her mouth closed around him. Sam shook, stretched one arm overhead. The other gripped the back of Jackie's head, softly. She bobbed there, took great, wet strokes with engorged lips. Sam shook, arched his back, bent the knee Jackie straddled. It bumped her ass, left a wet print. "Oh, Specialist Jackie," he moaned. "Hmm?" moaned Jackie, lips wrapped around him. "I think it's only courteous to warn I'm going to cum." Jackie pulled her head off him, smiled, began to pump the cock with both hands, and placed her lips over his head. In a few strokes of her small hands, Sam's hips bucked into Jackie's mouth. He groaned, loud. She hummed, first with pleasure, then wetly in surprise. Still pumping, she pulled her lips away, and a gooey splash of white poured over her hands. "Wow," she said, marveled at him spurting. She licked her lips. "It's sugar," she laughed. Panting, Sam's orgasm died down. He panted, chest heaving. Jackie licked the sugary cum from his cock, crawled up to his head. She placed a wet, sugary kiss, on his lips. "Sucrose-based," she smiled, pulling away. "Sweet robot." She wrapped a leg around him, cuddled the sweat and sugar-covered android. "I do hope this will help your recovery," said Sam, crinkly eyes smiling. He lay there, limp. "Oh, I think so." "Good. I do enjoy helping you.' "Cuddle me. Silly robot." "Yes, Jackie." He wrapped an arm around her, pulled her tight. Jackie watched the red and purple of the nebula play over the ceiling. "Sam, I think this assignment will be a good one," she said, sleepily. "I do think we have become a compatible lighthouse crew." "That's one way to put it." They lay still for a moment. Jackie's breathing slowed, relaxed. "It is a shame I'll be replaced in a month" said Sam. Jackie didn't respond. She had fallen fast asleep. Jackie finds her android crew mate grows ever sweeter; "She fucked the service android?" Bastain squinted over his quartz desk, pointed with an onyx vapor cig. "It would appear so, Sir," said Lan, an ice-blonde woman, expressionless. "How do we know?" "Sir, the unit in question, a Ceres-6, filed an anomalous precept mutation in its automated report." She glanced down to a card-thin tablet in her white-gloved hands. "We pulled this off its experience record." She flicked the tablet screen, and a video transferred to the large holomonitor behind Bastain. The man swiveled in his chair, frowning, watched. On screen played a point-of-view video. A recording, taken through an android's eyes, of a nude, curly-haired woman excitedly sucking the same android's not-inconsiderable cock. She bobbed, head guided by a large, gentle hand, amidst droplets of passionate fluids suspected in micro-gravity Her floating hair was backlit by the glowing morass of a red-and-purple nebula shon through a great void-window. Her expression, dully fixed, matched the android's lusty moans and fixated stare. Bastain stared, cig drooping. "Oh, Specialist Jackie," moaned the audio track. The hand tightened. The woman onscreen hummed, eyes smiling as she pulled her engorged lips over the wide and shining cock. The android moaned again. "I think it's only courteous to warn I'm going to— " The screen cut out. The ice-haired woman lifted her finger from the pause key. Bastain still stared, blank. "Christ." Surreptitiously, he adjusted the crotch of his slacks before swiveling back around. "She did fuck him." He took a long hit off the vaporcig. Wisps spiraled from his nostrils. Briefly, he gazed past Lan, frowned at the sweet greenery of a misty garden world framed beyond. Abruptly, he looked up. "How the hell did she do to manage that?" "Sir," said Lan. "During 24 hours' contact with Comm-engineering Specialist Jacqueline Kent, the unit sys-named 'Sam,' mutated the following precepts in response to the Specialist's behavior;' She cleared her throat, read: "Physical perception: plus fifty-seven percent. Social Assertion: plus fifteen percent. Tonal Formality: minus twenty percent. Individualized Affection: plus eighty-eight percent." She paused, looked at Bastain. "Sexuality: plus one-hundred percent." "Jesus." Bastain ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper quiff. "Are they meant to do that?" "Yes and no, Sir." "Yes and no?" Lan recited, blankly. "Ceres-6s were the first Serault Corporation model to feature full behavioral precept mutability. Like most Ceres models, they were designed to self-adapt and facilitate maximum social compatibility with small crews." She paused, tilted her head. An icy lock fell over one eye. She brushed it away. "However, the model has a flaw: Their mutation is constrained by no delimiters, save Asimov's Amended Laws. As a result, they—" "Turn into fornicators," interrupted Bastain. "If their crew mates are turned on?" "Sir, there have been seventeen reports of individual crews engaging in sexual activity with their Ceres-6 service models." "So, yes?" "Yes, Sir." Bastain sat and vaped a moment. He adjusted his tie. "Is this mutation affecting Specialist Jacqueline; "He screwed up his eyes for a moment, corrected himself. "Uh, Specialist Kent's efficiency?" Lan blinked her blue-raspberry eyes. "As of yet, Sir, we do not have enough labor data to judge either Specialist Kent's baseline or affected efficiency at this post. Either way, the unit sys-named 'Sam' is scheduled to be replaced by a new-model Ceres-8 in less than a standard month." "Ah, well." Bastain shrugged. "I guess that works out." Vapor swirled around his gray eyes, white as the tropical steam outside. "Will that be all, Sir?" asked Lan. Bastain looked up. "Yeah. Thanks." Lan briefly twitched a smile, turned to leave through the plate-glass door. "Lan," said Bastain, to her pencil-skirt clad back. "Sir?" she turned. "Remind me." The man squinted. "What model are you?" Voice level, Lan pronounced: "Eris-7, Sir. Courtesy model." "Ah, I think I remember you saying that." An awkward smile tugged Bastain's face. "Thank you." "Of course, Sir." "And, Lan?" "Sir?" "Leave the tablet." "Sir." She did. The ceramic handheld clicked on the quartz desktop. Bastain watched her go; watched her small hand wrap round the door, watched her teardrop hips, swaying, clad in clinging black. He blinked, sighed, picked up the tablet. With a finger, he touched the Play key, elicited quiet audio and moving images from the ceramic slate. "-to warn you I'm going to cum." After ensuing sounds of ecstasy from both parties, he turned it off, put it down. "Fucked her android," he muttered, shaking his head. "What an idea." - Jackie awoke, floating. She shifted, confused for a moment, then smiled, remembering, as she felt the firm grasp of Sam's broad arms round her chest and belly. She touched the corded, lightly haired forearms, hugged them, held one large hand warm to her tit. Sam hugged her back. Firmly, warm. Affectionate. "Good morning, Specialist Jackie." Jackie felt dried sugar crackle on her lips. Without opening her eyes, she turned around in Sam's grasp, pulled his mouth to hers. For a moment, she kissed him hard, let her sugar-coated tongue slip between the android's pliable lips. She broke free, opened her eyes. "Good morning Sam," she said, licking luxuriantly. "Happy I didn't dream fucking you." "Good morning," said Sam, again. He smiled, and the little lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled delicately. "Though, it is, in reality, just after Earth-standard noon." Jackie's eyes widened. "Fuck, the traffic," she gasped, wriggled for a moment, winced. She clutched her leg, felt the stretched, tight material of a flex-bandage around her thigh. It was her only garment. "Fuck," she said again. "Hurts more than it did yesterday." "That's to be expected." "We need to work, Sam! The lighthouse has to function." Sam hugged her. "Don't worry, Jackie. You may recall I set the lighthouse to transmit a detour notice, per Company policy. We may resume work after the conclusion of your twenty-four-hour healing period. Of which an hour remains, by my count." Sam smiled again. "And I do insist you enjoy it." Jackie startled, winced. She squirmed, attempted to get out of the sleep webbing. "I've been asleep for twenty hours?" "Yes. Though you did wake to urinate shortly ago, which you appear not to recall. The corrective clot I applied to your leg included a metabolic enhancer. It encourages deep sleep for efficient healing. You are likely to be— " "Fucking hungry," said Jackie, raising her eyebrows and licking her lips again. She unclipped her webbing, floated away from Sam. "Oh, shit." She said, realizing her mistake. Untethered, she drifted across the room, hair and tits buoyant, bounced gently off the ceiling, then into the broad window-floor. A duotone magenta, cast by the vast and swirling nebula beyond, suffused her space-pale, depilated skin with curious shades of pink red. "You need mag boots, Jackie," said Sam. Still under the webbing, he maneuvered his legs over the bed, retrieved one of two pairs of boots stuck to the transparent-alloy window-floor. He tugged them on, and, naked save for those red and silver boots, kicked over to Jackie, second pair in hand. Handily, he caught her around the waste. Jackie clung to his front, wrapped her feet around him, kissed him softly. Her nipples, quite hard, brushed the blond fur of his chest. "Come now, Specialist," said Sam, with good humor, peeled her off. With deliberate force, he turned her about, and employing her hips and waist as grips slightly more than was required, tugged the second pair of boots over her small feet. Jackie cleaved back to him immediately after, and Sam held her in return. She nuzzled into his neck, enjoyed his scent of soap and sweat, caressed the broad hands wrapped round her body. "Thanks, Sam." She then connected, likewise naked, save for boots and bandage, to the magnetic face of the window. Sam settled beside. Jackie, considerably smaller, placed her hands on the wide rounds of his shoulders. "Let's please get some food." "Wait a moment," smiled Sam, nearly a smirk. He held her close, sniffed her. "Did you bathe, yesterday?" Jackie blushed, frowned. "Not really. I, uh, ran out of my water ration." "I think a shower is in order, first. Don't you think?" For a moment, Jackie was annoyed. Then, her face brightened. She let her fingers play over the android's chest. "I think that might be; Fun." She continued to draw her touch across Sam's pecs, over the cut ridges of his serratus anterior muscle, then round his back. "But the spin hasn't started, yet," she said, drew the tip of her tongue along his jaw. "Can't shower in micro-gravity" Sam raised an eyebrow. "True. We have seven minutes before the artificial gravity cycle starts." "Hmm," Jackie pulled close, warm, smushed her tits against Sam, rubbed her cheek against his chin. With a soft click, she detached one mag boot from the window-floor, lifted to wrap a bare leg about Sam. She pulled herself in, wiggled her hips, hummed in contentment as she ground the wetness between her legs into Sam's thigh. The android's cock, now beginning to swell, pressed, bent, into her front. "I think that's enough," she said, throaty. Sam lifted his chin, let Jackie lick and nibble little lines of wet kisses up his neck. "Enough for what, Jackie?" Jackie slid a hand down Sam's abs, grabbed the base of his cock. It twitched, straightened. "Time for more of you." She stroked him, felt a glaze of sugary cum flake under her touch. The cock darkened, thickened with arousal. Veins stood out from its girth. At that, Sam took her by the chin with one hand, seized her ass in the other. He squished her rump close to him, lifted her chin, her parted lips close to his. Her soft flesh dimpled, firm, under his fingertips. "How do you want me?" "Inside me," gasped Sam, intrigued by her partner's sudden engagement. She pressed her pubic mound into the android's hard, muscled thigh, left a spot of wet arousal. "Fuck me. Standing up. Like this." There was a click. Jackie's other mag boot disconnected from the floor. Her knees bent. She floated free in Sam's grasp; toes pointed towards the ceiling. With one hand, she wrapped an elbow around his neck, dragged her lips the last inch to his, kissed him with more tongue than gentle lip. While he kissed her, Sam transferred both hands to clasp the very bottoms of Jackie's ass cheeks, just where they met her thighs. First, he squeezed, then stretched them apart, slightly opening the eager, pink lips just within. Jackie moaned into his mouth. A little rivulet of girlcum floated from between her legs, stuck to the strong hands manipulating the tingling skin of her ass. "Uh." Jackie gasped. "Fuck me, robot. I want that sweet cock in me again." She thrust her hips forward, grinned as she felt her mons bump into the soft head of Sam's cock. "Of course, Jackie." The android flipped her around by the hips, turned her ass-up and horizontal in front of him. Jackie yelped, found herself, surprised, facing down at the nebula. Then, she moaned. Sam had just then split her legs, pulled her by her angled thighs just a half inch onto his hard girth. The Specialist's labia just barely gripped the hot, hard phallus between her legs, slicked it with arousal and Sam's own smeared precum. "Fuck," said Jackie. She tried, futilely, to thrust herself farther down onto the cock, but Sam held her in place. "Come on," she said, grabbed the hands gripping her thighs. "Don't you want to give it to me!" Sam looked down at her, at her narrow waist and the taught lines down the center of her flexed back. He let one fingertip stroke her from neck to tailbone, trace around where his cock just split her sopping bits. Jackie spasmed just a little, moaned. "Please," she said, wet lips panting. "I find," said Sam. "My precepts have further altered to suit your personality, dear Specialist Jackie." He pulled her just a quarter of an inch farther down his shaft. The woman groaned, looked back at the hands which kept her locked quote firmly there by the ass and lower back. "How?" She said. "You have a fascinating character trait." He gave her just a hint more cock, twitched a crinkle-eyed smile as she arched her head, shut her eyes, hummed in anxious delight. "You enjoy giving me orders, but you also enjoy being handled, to submit just as much as you dominate." He pressed further in, let Jackie's eager womanhood take a little more. He felt her abs tense, and her small muscles twitched inside, as if trying to draw him in. "My stochastic feedback engine found that you reacted well to a hint of dominance in return, given
November 5 · length unknown
Jackie and the Phallic Android Visit: Part 1
Jackie and the Phallic Android Visit: Part 1. Jackie's lonely deep-space post includes delicious company. Based on a post by Alizzia. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories. Jacqueline Kent awoke to a twinkling, navy-blue night. She lay still, perceived the idle murmur of gulls and surf, the sweet air, the soft and runny sand against her back. With every little rush of the surf, a liquid touch caressed her. Startlingly chill. Goosebumps prickled her naked form. She pulled a long, resuscitating breath, sat up. The scene might have been a picturesque post card; in another time and another world. In Jackie's realm, the term 'romance' is not even remembered. Still others might have found the shoreline to be serene and hearkening her soul to spiritual peace. But Jackie is beyond lonely. She nearly gasped. Out on the surf, submerged to the defined dimples saddle of his hips, stood a buck naked and strapping figure. Head tipped to the moon, he raised and clasped his hands, and stretched. He twisted, hummed as he arched the broad, inverted triangle of his muscular back's lats. Yawning luxuriantly, he turned, dropped his arms, smiled at Jackie. Jackie's pulse fluttered. She returned the crinkled hazel eyes' smile. The figure blushed a hint, turned a bashful eye to the sea. He approached. Surf split and foamed about his hips, thighs, knees, ankles. All softly corded, olive, and completely unclothed. He stopped inches from Jackie's toes, let his gaze drag over her body, slow. She blushed in return, twisted a little, pulled and bent her knees to touch. Responding, his eyes flicked to her face, stopped there. Though not a turn of betrayed sentiment showed on his lips, a soft bundle of creases remained at the corners of his eyes, somehow more intense. He lingered on her mouth, nose, eyes, canted his head just a hint. A masculine, longing sigh rose from his chest. Some melted excitement splashed into Jackie's chest and belly. Returning the gaze in full measure, she straightened her legs, arms, lay back on the sand. She raised a challenging brow. Slow, the figure knelt, touched one knee to the beach, then the other. He straddled just one of Jackie's legs, bent, placed heavy hands beside her head. Jackie could hear the compression of the wet sand, squish under his weight. He bent ever so close, stopped, just breathed. Not a slip of skin touched between them. Droplets fell from his locks and long nose, fell maybe just an inch, before rolling down Jackie's cheeks. This manly apparition smelt of salt and oceans. Jackie's nether lips parted involuntarily, asymmetrically. Never breaking her gaze, she stretched, wriggled just a bit, tilted her groin and chin. She heard the figure's pupils dilate, heard his shuddering breath, sensed his heavy arousal. A small smile of glee split her face. She squirmed in the sand beneath him, like a sea star, free beneath his hanging weight. Then, suddenly deadly serious, she stopped. With dearest care, she shifted just a little, pulled the inside of her smooth thigh to meet his knee. The figure shuddered, shut his eyes. Jackie struck, pushed her chin up and her facial lips into his. For a moment, she could taste the warmth, the salt. Then, the world spun. The figure disappeared. The stars went out. The black sky fell away. Jackie awoke to a riveted, titanium ceiling studded with white lights. She flailed momentarily, gasping wetly. Tubes hung before her face, wet with the spit of her own trachea. Pressure lifted from her wrists, ankles, and abdomen. She began to float from the padded pod where she lay. Jackie's clumsy fingers found rails on either edge of the pod. She held herself within, panted. She swallowed dryly, blinked, surveyed the pod, her white sleep shorts and top, the room about her. After a moment, she groaned in recognition and disappointment. Any arousal she'd experienced had flown with her dream, left her with naught but a sodden crotch in a chilly room. "Good morning, Specialist Jaqueline Kent," said a voice, at once sonorous and very dull. Jackie tried to sit up and look over the side of the bed. The inertia of the action strained her fingers. Her hands split from the rail. She floated from the bed, frowned. Across the room was a crop-haired man in red. His cotton jumpsuit strained where it failed to accommodate his chest and back. He had cold, blue eyes and a pointed nose. He held onto a support rail, feet firmly affixed to the vaguely-concave floor in magnet boots. "Who the fuck." coughed Jackie, barely audible. She rasped. "The fuck are you?" She inadvertently turned upside down in the micro-gravity, crossed her arms over her floating tits. "My pardon, Specialist Kent. My designation is Sam." "You're;' said Jackie, trying to find a more dignified stance. She failed, ended up sort of weakly kicking off the side wall. She made a face as she clipped the stasis pod, wheeled into Sam. Her face collided with his broad chest. He caught her there. For a moment, Jackie's cheek and nose pressed into him. He was firm, but soft. He smelled of soap and salt. "You're a service unit, an organic android?" she said, frowning, as Sam pulled her away from him. "Indeed." "Why isn't this place being spun for gravity?" raged Jackie, shuffling from his grasp. Strong fingers released from her upper arms. "The habitat is spun for only eight hours of the 24-hour cycle, per regulated health minimums. Generator and battery capacity are prioritized for the lighthouse array, rather than gravity rotors. The next spin commences tonight, in several minutes," said Sam, smiling thinly. "For now, please accept these mag boots." "Fine," said Jackie, cold. She bumped against the wall, struggled to pull a boot on. The other floated away. She made a face, huffed, weak from stasis sleep. "Please, allow me," said Sam. For just a moment, Jackie twisted her face as if to protest, but relented. She moved close, allowed the android to wrap an arm around each of her calves in turn, slip a boot over the foot, and strap it tight. For a moment, she relaxed, felt the long hands wrap near-entirely round her bare ankles. They were firm, but not rough. Sam moved away. "There." Jackie tentatively pushed away, set a foot to the floor, felt it stick. "Thanks," she said, quietly. "Allow me to show you around the lighthouse. Afterwards, you may recuperate. It will only take a moment. The station is not large, and I understand by your Company service record that you have served in this role before." "There wasn't an android on my last lighthouse. I do this job because I tolerate the solitude. Hell, sometimes I like it." Sam looked genuinely regretful. "I am sorry. You must understand I was attached to this station by the company. I am their property." "Yeah, yeah," said Jackie, seeing his face. A spike of empathy broke through her grumpiness. "You don't seem like bad company, anyway. What model are you?" she said, as Sam opened the pod's hatch for them to exit. "I am a Serault Corporation Ceres-6," he said, stepping through. Jackie followed. The concave floor of the room beyond was double-walled transparent alloy. It acted as a gigantic window out onto the red and purple nebula which the lighthouse was meant to warn of. Along the walls, set so one might look down into the nebula, were padded benches, a few pod chairs, and a bed with micro-gravity webbing, all the furnishings were somewhat worn. Crimson light played over the white upholstery and sheets. Jackie looked over the living quarters, far nicer than she'd had before. She gaped at the nebula for a moment, watched a streak of magenta light cross Sam's eyes and face. "So, you're one of those white-blooded ones?" "My internal serum is a sucrose base. It serves modified roles in all my body fluids. It is indeed an off-white." "Sucrose? A real sweetie, huh?" "If indeed it were to be tasted, my serum would taste of sugar." He looked her in the eyes, terribly sincere. Jackie looked away, grinned uncomfortably. "Right. Have any other special features?" she said, sarcastic. "As Ceres-6 models are designed for small crew missions, our personality precepts are mutable. We change in reaction or in request to facilitate maximum compatibility with organic sentient life forms." "Ah, well. Good to know." Jackie looked about awkwardly, arms crossed. "I take it this is my room?" "Indeed, this is the lighthouse keeper's room," he blinked at her, slow. "And where do you sleep?" "Though I do not often enter my hibernation cycle, I have a pod in the crew maintenance room we just exited." Jackie suddenly uncrossed her arms, waved one about. "Listen, do you need to stare me straight in the eyeballs all the time? It's freaking me out." "Would you prefer I focus on a different portion of your body?" said Sam. He concernedly looked at her left foot. "Like, shit. No. Just let your eyes wander; like a normal person, okay?" "Understood," said Sam. He glanced at her eyes, then about the room, then down into the floor-window. "A little less wildly, maybe." "Yes, Specialist Kent." His eyes flitted over Jackie, focused momentarily on the nipples poking through her airy sleep top. Jackie crossed her arms, blushed. "And call me Jackie, not Specialist Kent." "Understood, Jackie." "And smile a bit more." "Of course," he said, doing so. Jackie shivered, but not from the chill air. The lines which pulled about the android's eyes and nose bridge, turned the cold face into a visage quite warm. It stayed that way. Sam was; what did the girls used to say? A heart throb. "Well," said Jackie, hesitating. "We're getting on better already," she said, only half as sarcastic as she meant. "Can we continue the tour? I could use a shower." "Of course." He continued to a hatch on the other side of the room. Jackie stepped through as well. They entered a circular room with a ladder in the center. The walls were ringed with computer panels and other hatches. "This is the primary communication room. Here, you; " "Sam, I know how to use the coms." "My apologies," he said. "This hatch leads to the EVA room. This one to the galley. This one to life support. The ladder leads up to the secondary systems and down to engineering." "I take it life support has the shower?" "Indeed." "Great. Anything else?" "No. We commence operation tomorrow morning, approximately an hour after the eight-hour spin." He broke off for a moment, canted his head. His eyes trailed over Jackie's bare abdomen, likely by chance. She squirmed, regardless. Sam raised his eyebrows, continued. "The spin, which I believe should commence now." There was a jerk, a hollow whine in the hull of the station, a rush in Jackie's ears. Jackie and Sam slowly settled under the centrifugal forces. Jackie adjusted her shorts, surreptitiously. "I'm going to shower." "There are requisite uniforms and undergarments waiting for you." "Gee, thanks for laying out my underwear." "Of course, Jackie." Sam said with a gorgeous smile. Jackie shook her head, kicked off the mag boots, stomped to the life support bay. She shut the hatch with a good deal of force. The bathroom was behind a secondary hatch, near the spare air purification tanks and the water-less laundry engine. It was stark, shiny white, floored with nobly grip tiles. There were indeed clothes laid out for her: A red jumpsuit and white boy shorts. Jackie passed them just a glance before dropping her shorts and top. Naked, she passed the small mirror, sneered at her baggy eyes, her body, depilated of all body hair, except for her head. But that must remain shorter than her shoulders, when at a starbase facility. She was ready for stasis sleep. She stepped into the shower. A touch panel reading "Shower Ration: 2 Minutes," met her. "Same old station-life," she groaned, punched the Start key. A vertical shower hit from above. Mist quickly filled the room. Jackie moaned for the heat, turned her head and chest to face the stream. Little rivulets poured from her nose, chin, nipples. At these she looked askance, gently surprised. She cupped, rubbed one between thumb and forefinger experimentally, sighed a little. She repeated this with both, sighed a lot. Doing so, suddenly quite determined, she stepped back and leaned back, pressed her rump against the white wall. One hand, the right one, slipped between her hairless legs, which she widened just sufficiently. They wobbled a bit, weak from stasis. She leaned harder against the wall, slipped a middle finger over and through her dripping vulva, split the lips, found it dripping inside, too. The left hand joined, found the clit, elicited a hum, a bitten lip. Several wet seconds later, a groan. Jackie's face tipped upwards. Her thighs twitched. Droplets hit her screwed-up eyelids, her open mouth. The water stopped abruptly. Jackie jerked upright. "Motherfucker," she said, a cry fading into a mumble. She leaned through the steam, slightly pigeon-toed, read the touch panel. It said, "Time until next Shower Ration: 18 hours." Jackie rubbed her temples, groaned resignedly. The cold of the station was already seeping into the shower. Quickly, she dried, performed her remaining ablutions, threw on the insulated black jumpsuit over still-aching nipples. Jackie emerged to find Sam in the life-support bay. He was shirtless, jumpsuit rolled at the waste, supine beneath a large conduit emitting steam. Droplets rolled over his long fingers and corded forearms, dripped and slid over an expanse of blond-furred chest. Veins stood out in his neck and arms, swollen from the effort of having just slotted a hefty filter into place. As Jackie approached, he turned. "Jackie," he said, emerging carefully from under the conduit. He panted gently, lips parted just a tad. They were pink, creased. Human. "How are we?" "I'm fine, thanks," said Jackie, forcibly pulling her eyes up to his. She looked for a moment longer, watched a vein pulse on his temple. "If you don't mind me saying, you're damn realistic, aren't you?" "I am, on the exterior, functionally and visually indistinguishable from a human man." "Yup," said Jackie, moving to leave. "Jackie?" Sam called out. She turned back a moment. "Yes?" "Is the station too cold for your comfort?" His eyes brows, cream and near-invisible, were arched in concern. Jackie squinted, raised an eyebrow. "No. It's fine." "Good. And, do make sure to have the appropriate post-stasis ration packs. I have concerns your flight here has left you low on muscle mass." Jackie turned away. "Yeah." She opened the hatch to her quarters, shut it with a huff. One protein pack later, she had stripped off her jumpsuit, dead asleep. Hours later, Jackie woke to a crimson nebulaic glow. She floated, bleary, in the micro-gravity webbing. The vibrating hum of the spin-rotors had died. Now, there was merely silence. Dully, Jackie moved to turn over under the webbing. As her thighs shifted, she felt a tingling wetness from some dream she couldn't remember. Idly, half asleep, she let a fingertip creep down her belly, trace over the soaked groin of her shorts, begin to prod, massage. She hummed, rubbed her cheek into the netting. Nearby, a hatch creaked open. Jackie jerked awake, hang back her hand, froze. "Ready to get to work, Specialist Jackie?" Jackie groaned. "Yup," she said. Sam nodded, smiled, retreated into the comms room. The hatch clacked shut. Only after clambering out of the sleep webbing did Jackie realize her floating tits had been in full view. The Corporation had some odd opinions about bras in space. Jackie shook her head. "Chill, girl. Robot doesn't care." The proceeding five hours were a floating blur. Jackie stood in the comms room, directed ship after ship in non-collision courses around the nebula. The job was a steep and constant series of calls and responses to incoming and waiting craft. Sam assisted. "Astroliner 313, after well veer, climb straight ahead five degrees Kepler. Thank you." "Jackie, we have a Corsican military craft requesting expedited access," said Sam. "Tell him to follow the greens and stand by for expedite." "E E S Pearl River is expressing a complaint." "Send them the docs. They can deal with the Company." She changed channels. "Yes, Arrowtine Sirius, you have permission to take route bravo in five. Thank you." "Jackie, I'm directing Designate 4 7 6 to hold. Their cargo requires maximum berth." "Thanks, Sam." Sam smiled thinly at her. He had started doing that more often. His eyes stayed crinkled kindly, when he did. Jackie kept watching him. Abruptly, Sam frowned. "Jackie, we have an error." "What?" "New connections are timing out. We have a receiver down from debris strike." "Debris?" "Yes. The nebula produces particulates. Usually inconsequential." "Shit. I'm putting out a mass hold signal." She frowned, tapped a glowing panel. "Yeah. Fourth quadrant antenna's lost a tine. Got to E V A and plant a new one." "I will prepare your E V A suit." "Thanks." Minutes later, they were at the twin doors of the airlock. Both were translucent alloy, showed the nebula beyond. Sam was retrieving EVA suit segments from a locker. Jackie, connected by one foot to the decking, worried at her jumpsuit zipper, peered out into space. "Jackie?" "Yeah?" "Are you well? I understand even specialists have qualms regarding free-body spacewalks." "It's not that. I've just got to dress. Just look away." "Ah, of course." He did. The zipper whispered, shuffled. A mag boot floated past Sam's head, stuck to the ceiling beside. There was a stretching sound, a scrape, a bump. "Shit." "Jackie, I understand micro-gravity handling was your only Academy score below 20." "No shit." "We cannot dawdle. Please allow me to help you, despite your modesty." "Fine." Sam turned. His eyes briefly flitted over Jackie dressed in nothing but white shorts, arms crossed, blushing. She waved her free foot at a long, floating EVA boot. "Come on then." Efficiently, Sam took the boot in one hand and Jackie in the other. With one arm, he maneuvered the weightless Jackie. He set her back against his chest and lap, and, holding the metal collar of a boot, positioned it so she might extend a leg. Jackie held still for a moment. It was very much like someone helping a three-year-old put on socks. Tentatively, she extended a foot, pressed it into the boot. "Why are these so fucking tight?" she said. "These suit designs use compression as an essential element in their climatic systems. You must use more force." Jackie grumbled, shoved, felt herself press back into the android. His chest was broad, soft. She shoved harder, felt her rear press into his pelvis. She froze: Between and under his narrow hipbones, the android's cock was firm. It pressed, semi-aroused, into Jackie's ass. Jackie paused, arms crossed. She listened for some sign from the android. Sam gave not a sign anything was the matter. She wriggled her rump a little. Still no response. With strange haste, Jackie continued stuffing her foot fully into the tall boot. She felt Sam's fingers incidentally brush her inner thigh as he tugged the collar up her leg. Swiftly, they performed the same maneuver with the second boot. Jackie shoved hard, felt the android's hard body massage the burgeoning ache in her groin. Sam gave a little huff of effort. Unw
November 3 · length unknown
The Rancher's Daughter: Part 3
The Rancher's Daughter: Part 3. Restoring Philip's manly confidence. Based on a post by Dash91830. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Philip's Devastation. Getting back home, I find myself feeling a bit upset. I love my girlfriend more than anything, but why did she have to boast about her past exploits? I don't hold it against her or anything. I just don't want to talk about all the guys she fucked before dating me. What's wrong with that? I wouldn't make her uncomfortable by talking to her about other girls, even though I never fucked any before her. If I did, I wouldn't be bragging about it and telling her that they are tighter or have bigger boobs or bigger ass. No, the ass part is impossible. Heather has the biggest ass in our school. All the girls literally measured each other's ass in a competition. I sit by myself on the bed and try to read a si-fi novel, but thoughts of my blonde girlfriend distracts me. Why can't I get her out of my mind for just an hour? Am I really so damn pathetic that she's all I can think of? Yes, she deflowered me, but I couldn't just put her on the pedestal and treat her as though she is the only thing that matters in my life. I must find a way to think of something else other than her. Her and her laugh, and that mischievous twinkle in her eyes, and the way she mesmerizes me so effortlessly. I quickly snap myself out of it and berate myself for getting further carried away. I can't be the guy who thinks of nothing but his girlfriend. Someone knocks on the door and I call out " Come in!" My mom opens the door and walks into the room. She is a middle aged woman who is still fairly attractive. My dad definitely finds her attractive; given how loud he screams her name at night. I always shudder whenever he cries out loudly and begs her to do all sorts of stuff to him. "Is something wrong?" I ask my mother cautiously, noting the serious look on her face. My mother has a grave expression right now; and it makes me feel a little nervous, wondering if I somehow did something wrong earlier today. No, I came home on time and kept to my own room. I couldn't have done anything wrong, right? "You didn't do anything," she says to me, almost as if she could hear what I'm thinking. "I'm worried about you." I watch as she sits down next to me on the bed and picks up the book that I set down earlier. She looks at it and says " I remember that you already read up to this point in the morning. You've been in your room for an hour now and you haven't read any further at all. There is something bothering you, isn't it, hun?" She knows me so well. Too well, in fact. I couldn't keep a secret from her at all. She can always easily see right through me. I sigh before finally looking at her in the eyes. "It's just a girlfriend problem, mom," I tell her. She looks at me and waits for me to say something more. "I had a big argument with her. But it's nothing you have to worry about. She and I can fix this up by ourselves when we see each other again." I then take the book back. "Just give me some time to sort through my feelings first though, mom. What we argued about was quite messed up and I'm not sure if I can talk about it right now. Like I said, I really need some time to myself first." "You can tell me anything," my mother says to me. She doesn't look like she'd give up anytime soon, so I know that I will have to tell her the truth. But I still try to hold off for as long as possible. It won't be for much longer though. She presses on, asking me " What is it that you two argued about, exactly? I can't help you if you don't tell me." I'm about to open my mouth when she says " And before you say you don't need my help, I know you do. I raised you and I can tell how you feel. You are in need of a third opinion right now, my son." "She boasted about having had sex with 93 guys and claimed that she did it for me," I reveal to my mom. She raises her eyebrows in confusion. "I asked her what she meant by that and she said she slept with those guys to gain some sexual experience and become a skilled lover, so when she finally gets me as her boyfriend, she could make me feel really good in bed." My mom looks like she couldn't believe this and I honestly don't blame her. I didn't believe it either and it happened to me. I was there when Heather said those things. She said it to me just earlier today. My mom keeps on staring at me in her shock until I tell her I'm now starting to feel a little awkward. That's when she breaks out of it and wraps her arms around me. "Sweetie, you should never thank her for that," she tells me. "What she did before the two of you started to date is her business, but to tell you that she did it for you and ask you to thank her? That's crazy! She sounds like some sort of entitled bitch to me. She should apologize to you for what she said and you better make sure she does that." My mom then pat me on the back in an encouraging way before leaving the room. That night I lay thinking in my bed and try to come up with a way to deal with the problem I got right now. It is all so messy and I have never had to deal with anything like it before in my life. I couldn't figure out what to do with the demand that Heather made. She went a bit too far, in my opinion. Okay, way too far, actually. But I will still forgive her if she apologizes for it. I would not thank her for sleeping around before she started dating me, because it is just crazy. She couldn't have been serious and if she was serious, then that is a major red flag and I should run. The next morning, when my parents are gone, I'm surprised by the visit of my beautiful girlfriend. Heather looks as gorgeous as ever in her volleyball uniform as she stands at my front door and gives me an apprehensive smile. It is the first time I have ever seen her so nervous. "Come in, honey," I say to her. She smiles at me calling her honey and I smile back, but only lightly. I'm happy to talk but we can't just go back to the way it was earlier, not until she owns up and apologizes for what she did to me yesterday. That was way too messed up for me to simply forget. "Listen, baby," Heather begins once we are inside. She and I sit down at the big couch together, with her being next to me. "I know that the stuff I said to you yesterday was wrong and I'm so sorry about it. I love you so much and I don't want to lose you. Will you forgive me and give me another chance? Please? I promise I will never screw up like that again." She looks at me with puppy dog eyes and I find myself captivated by them. How could I ever hope to stay angry at her for long? It's impossible to be mad at someone this cute. "I'll give you another chance, baby, but only because I love you so much and I don't want to lose you either," I say to, and then kiss Heather, making her grin widely. She kisses me back and the two of us make out for a couple of minutes before we stop. "Is there anything else you want to talk to me about, baby?" I ask her just in case. Feeling her in my arms is the best thing in the world. Well, except for feeling my cock inside her, of course. Nothing could ever beat that. She deflowered me and turned me into her submissive slut so easily. All she has to do these days is tell me to fuck her and I'd be hopeless to resist. "I have to get home soon. My dad will help me with getting a Congressman's nomination. That's something I need in order to apply to the Naval Academy," she says. "Emma will help me sort out other stuff like my academic and sport records." She gives me one more kiss and then gets up from the couch. "As much as I'd like to stay here and fuck your brains out, I really need to get back to the ranch now. I love you so much, baby. I'll drop by to fuck the shit out of you later." A couple of months ago I would have looked like a red tomato after hearing those words but now I only blush slightly. "Of course, baby," I tell her. I give her a hug and she leaves. When my mom is back in my room later, she notices that I'm in a much better mood now. I tell her that I'm fine now and that there is nothing for her to worry about, since Heather apologized to me and we are back on track. She looks very pleased to hear that and gives me a big hug after I tell her about Heather's plans for her future. Heather and I are going to stay together and once she's commissioned, we'll be getting married. I know she will make it. She's got everything that she needs. "I'm really glad for you two, honey," my mom tells me. She strokes my hair and then leaves the room, and this time I'm able to start reading the book properly, with my mind now cleared. This is all that I've ever wanted. I now have a girl who loves me as much as I love her, and my mother approves of us dating. My girlfriend's dad also approves too, so that's wonderful. There is nothing in our way now. We are together and that is all that matters. Having no more issues in mind, I find reading to be the delightful task that it normally is for me. After that, it's soon dinner time and I get into the living room. My father is now back from work and he, being a very perceptive person himself, picks up on the atmosphere and asks me " Is there something going on right now? Did something happen while I was at work?" Both of my parents are really astute, I think to myself as he sits down at his chair. My mom quickly tells him that there was but we had already taken care of it. "Taken care of what?" He looks genuinely curious, wondering what's happened earlier before he came home. "I had a minor fight with my girlfriend, but mom gave me advice on how to deal with it," I tell my dad, who looks a little surprised by this. "There is now nothing for you to worry about, dad. It is all clear now. All good. We took care of the problem." He nods approvingly and we start eating dinner together. "She is going to the Naval Academy, by the way. After we graduate from high school, of course." The three of us talk about my future together during the meal. I have already finished all of my applications. It shouldn't take much longer to get all the responses from the colleges and I can't wait for it. I help my mom wash the dishes after the meal and she tells me " I'm glad that you two worked things out. You really have grown a lot over this past year and I am so proud of you." Philip's Front Door. It's been another two months now and I'm waiting outside Philip's home for him to come open the door. He should be opening it soon since I knocked a minute ago. Soon, Philip is turning the door knob for me and letting me enter his house. He smooches me and says " Hi, baby!" I kiss him back and then we go into the living room together. "How did your application go?" Philip gives me a slightly worried look. He knows how important it is to me and has been very supportive over the past months. I could never ask for a better boyfriend than him. "You got in, right? Or do you have to wait for them to get back to you?" Wanting to have some fun with Philip first, I put on a sad face. He seems to think that this means I got rejected by the Academy, before I suddenly break into the biggest grin ever and exclaim " I got admitted baby!" and fling my arms around him. "You're looking at an officer in training right now. I'll be off to Annapolis after graduation so I came here to tell you about it. You are the first one I told, you know?" Philip too smiles brightly at me as he returns my embrace, lifting me up and spinning me around a couple of times, looking as excited as I am. "I'm so happy for you!" he exclaims but then says " How could you scare me like that though? That sad face really had me worried there for a second. I was already starting to think about how to cheer you up until you told me you got in." Aww, look at him. So fucking cute. I couldn't resist the urge and start to pinch his cheeks gently, making Philip blush in embarrassment. He is such an adorable boy! The moment I do it he starts to turn even redder than he was. "Stop it," he mutters, looking like a tomato. Of course, I don't stop and keep going. "I'm sorry, honey, but I just wanted to see how you would react," I tell him. I then give him a mischievous smirk and say " Instead of cheering me up, you can reward me. My hard works and effort paid off. You can reward me by fucking me and cumming in my pussy, baby." Philip blushes from this and I reach down, groping between his thin legs, squeezing his balls gently. I love the way he just gets hard instantly when I fondle his genitals. He is so helpless in my hands and I love it. I have total control over him, just the way I'm meant to. Alas, he couldn't fuck me right now since his mom enters the room. "I don't mind you fucking my son, but please don't do it when I'm in the house," she says to me playfully. I chuckle as Philip flushes again and squirms about a bit. "How did your application go? Philip told me that you had aspirations for the Navy." I turn to look at Philip who gives me a little coy smile. Knowing that he talks about me to his parents makes me really happy. We haven't really spent that much time with each other's parents yet but that will change. "I just gained an admission. Like I told Philip earlier, I'm an officer in training now," I tell her and she, too, gives me a warm hug. I think I'll start calling her mom soon. She probably won't mind that at all. She is already treating me like a daughter and that's good, since I'll be her daughter in law in about four years. "By the way, I was thinking of an engagement. Between me and Philip, of course. After I get commissioned, I want to marry to Philip right away, so I really want to ask you for his hand in marriage right now. Will you give me your blessings?" "Of course!" Philip's mom tells me and I can see my boyfriend's eyes boggle out as we discuss me marrying him as if he isn't there. He should know by now though that he has no say in our relationship. I make all the decisions around here and he is just going to have to go along with my whims. That's how it is. I turn to Philip and say " Oh, that's right. I expect to marry you right after I graduate. It will be four years so you'd have more than enough time to prepare for marriage. Learn how to do all the household chores as well as you could do them." Finally, Philip manages to say " Well, I did fantasize about a romantic proposal but I'll marry you." Me and his mother both start chuckling and we have a big group hug together. This is all that I've ever wanted. "I promise I will be here, waiting for you when you come back." Hearing him say that makes my heart swell. I have never felt so happy before in my entire life. Not even in all those massive gang bangs. Those orgies were fun but had no sentimental value or any meaning beyond carnal pleasure. It was only about getting my rocks off back then. "Alright, it was great telling you about this," I say to my cute boyfriend and his mom. "But right now I have to go home and tell my dad. He doesn't know yet. I wanted Philip to be the first one to find out that I got admitted." Philip gives me another congratulatory hug and kiss on the cheek, and then I also hug his mom before leaving the tiny house. Then I get into my car and start driving back to the ranch. Along the way, I switch on the radio and sing along to the song blasting out. This is the best day of my life and I feel like I'm at the top of the world. When I reach home, I go upstairs to my bedroom, where I sit down on my bed and give Emma and Larissa a call. They should be here in about an hour. In the meantime, I'll go give my father the good news first. Once he knows, I'll tell my two best friends. I still couldn't believe how charmed my life is. To be born into a wealthy family, have supportive friends and plenty of opportunities to fuck around, and then land the boy of my dreams. And after all of that, to get my lifelong dream of being admitted to the Naval Academy. I must have done something really good in my past life to deserve all this. My father eventually enters the living room and sits down on the couch with me. He looks at me curiously, asking " What did you want to talk to me about?" I did send my dad a message asking him to come home at once, after all. "Tell me. I cancelled an appointment because you said in the text that it is real important. Is it something at school?" I shake my head. Well, it is kind of rela
November 2 · length unknown
The Rancher's Daughter: Part 2
The Rancher's Daughter: Part 2. Heather's Legacy of Bolstering Male Confidence. Based on a post by Dash91830. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Philip's story continues. It's been six days now since Heather seduced me in my bedroom, deflowering me in a passionate fucking that left me unable to walk for an hour after. I was actually unable to get up from bed due to how weak I was from draining every drop of cum. That's how hard she fucked me. Heather just gave me an impish smirk afterwards when I told her that I couldn't stand up, telling me that the first time can be exhausting for a boy. I did enjoy her cuddling with me a lot though, and the way that she rested her face in the crook of my neck and gently kissed my warm skin. That was what I needed. Tender loving care. Now I'm sitting here with her in the far corner of the big library at school, trying to do my history homework. She isn't letting me though. Her hand is rubbing me under the table and I tell her; "Later, baby. I really have to do this right now. I need to submit the work tomorrow." Only two seconds later, I realize that 'submit' was a poor word choice. Heather gives me an evil smirk and squeezes my cock through my pants very hard, making me moan. We're sitting around the far corner of the big table, so Heather can look like she's reading my paperwork while observing if someone is watching us or approaching. "Please baby, let go of my cock. You can play with it later, alright? Let me get to work first." She shakes her head at me and I know there is nothing I can do now but let her have her way. "The only submission you'll be making is to me, baby," she whispers in my ear. Her words only arouse me further. She then releases my cock and slips her now free hand into her pink booty shorts. "I'm fingering myself right now." After that she withdraws her hand and shows me how wet it is after being inside her hot pussy. She sticks her wet fingers in my mouth and I can taste her spicy pussy juices. It's so wonderful and makes my cock harder. She returns her hand to my crotch and massages it before she unzips my pants. Heather then slips her hand into her own pants once more to get more of her womanly juices on her fingers. She wraps her coated hand around my shaft and begins wanking me right in the library, jerking me off with strong pumps. Her fingers feel so wonderful on my cock and I have to bite down on my lower lip in order to stop myself from moaning and giving away what is going on. "Please, let me tuck it back in my pants. You can play with it later, but not in a public place like this," I whimper. Why do I have to be so weak? Just the touch of her hand and I'm now unable to control myself. "I really don't want us to get into trouble for this." Heather leans in closer and tells me " I fucked a bunch of guys at school and I never got caught. Not even once. We're going to be fine, darling." She keeps on fondling my genital, sliding her hand up and down my prick. There, she said it again. I didn't believe she could be this sexy and sultry, and still be a virgin. But she just mentioned several sex partners, again? Good God, she might have fucked a dozen guys, for all I can imagine? Her warm hand stroking me feels so good and I gasp as she squeezes my erection rhythmically, alternating between squeezing and caressing. I find myself marveling at how well she handles a cock. She really is good at all things sexual. "You are going to cum inside me. I just want to warm you up with a handjob first." She continues to caress my throbbing erection and gives me a kiss right on the cheek. This sends more blood down to my prick, making it more swollen. It spasms in her hand and she clenches her fist around my shaft, giving my pole deliberate strokes with her strong fingers. Her powerful biceps ripple as she jerks me off. "I'm going to cum soon, baby," I warn my hot girlfriend. Heather quickly releases me and I take this chance to stuff my cock back inside my pants, zipping up as quickly as I could. She then yanks me up to my feet. Heather quickly drags me with her to the faculty restroom where she locks the door. Then she rips my trousers off and also gets rid of my boxers too. I blush as she stares at my cock and wraps her hand around it again. "Look at how helpless you are," she whispers to me. "You couldn't keep your cock out of my hand, baby. Whenever I want to touch it, it gets hard for me. Your cock is mine, Philip." Then she strokes it a few times before sucking it into her mouth and giving me an expert blowjob; her hands wrapped around my ass cheeks and her fingers rubbing my anus.. God, it feels amazing! I can't believe how good she is at sucking a cock. My girlfriend's head keeps bobbing along the length of my shaft. Then she plays with my balls while rubbing her cunt through her shorts with another hand. Finally, she deems me ready and takes my cock out of her mouth. She then slides her shorts down and turns around, showing off her thick, heart shaped ass. Heather grabs her ass cheeks and spreads them, giving me a view of her brown star. "My saliva should be enough lube," she tells me. "Just slide your cock inside and fuck me already." Not wanting to upset her, I do as she told and carefully eases my way inside her tight asshole, feeling her sphincter expand to take me in her. Her ass is incredibly tight, making me cry out in astonishment. I never thought anything could be tighter than her pussy, but I guess I was wrong. I slowly begin thrusting, my balls slapping into her greased cunt as I fuck her. "Ah, I guess I'm really slutty, fucking you at school like this," I moan. She looks at me over her shoulder with a smirk on her face. "But I'm only a slut for you, baby. I'm your slut." Heather's smile goes wider when she hears me saying that and she slams her ass back at me violently, sheathing me with her very muscular, round buttocks. "That's right. You're my little slut, Philip," she says in an airy tone. "Keep fucking me with that slutty cock. I want to feel you in my ass." Hearing her say that makes me throb inside her butt even more and I fuck her faster now, slamming in and out of her orifice with all my strength. Her anal ring squeezes my prick tightly and I exhale, trying not to cum too soon. It's very difficult though, given how hot and tight her booty is. Feeling her large ass slapping into me makes me want to cum right away but I want to savour this moment, so I continue to hang on for dear life. Finally her snug ass proves too much for me. I scream and start to ejaculate, rapidly filling her bowels with my cream. My balls heave as I fire cum into her ass, pumping bucket-loads of semen inside Heather. Heather smirks at me over her shoulder again. "Look at you," she says. "Trying so hard to be a decent boy. But just a glimpse of my ass and you're already a little slut, eager to fuck me whenever I want you to. You are a whore, aren't you, baby? Tell me what you are." Hearing her say that makes me horny again but I know we will have to get to class soon, or else we might get into trouble. As I withdraw my cock from her butt, she teases her asshole gently, showing me how my cum is seeping out of her. "Your cum belongs to me, just like your cock does," she says as she puts her booty shorts back on. We leave the locker room together and to our surprise, Emma and Larissa are waiting for us. "Hey, did you two hear him?" Heather asks her friends casually. Both of them giggle and I could feel my face turning even redder. They eagerly nod but the giggling alone was enough to make me know that they know what just happened in the faculty restroom. "Yeah, my dear boyfriend is a bit of a slut, isn't he?" "Oh absolutely slutty," Larissa nods in agreement, then turns to look at me. "You were screaming your head off. I bet that ass of hers must have been really tight." My surprise must be visible since she laughs again. "Oh, please! She tells us everything. This morning she told us that she's going to make you fuck her ass today, and she clearly did it, judging by how exuberant she is.” Larissa continued; “There is nothing she likes more than getting anal. Believe me. I've seen her get fucked in that big ass more than enough times." Emma swats her head, telling her to stop talking about that with me, before looking at me apologetically. "I'm sorry. Larissa here doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut," Heather says. "By the way, there weren't that many guys. I only had sex with a small number. Most of my dates ended with just a kiss on the cheek or something like that." I nod, thinking that she probably exaggerated about her experience during sex to make herself look cooler. There is no way she could have been so sexually active and able to focus on her sports and studies. She's both one of our school's best athletes and one of the highest academic students in the subjects she takes. "It's okay, I don't mind," I tell her. "You're the most popular, beautiful and talented girl at our school. Not unusual for you to have had a few guys before me. And that's all in the past now. What matters is that we're together." Then, in an uncharacteristically bold move for me, I leaned in and gently kissed her on her left temple, right in front of her friends. Heather is the one to blush for a change and I give her a little smile. She's not only incredibly hot, but also cute too. I love seeing the adorable side of her and decide to kiss the tip of her nose as well, making her go redder than before. The two of us head off to separate classes. I happen to be in the same class with Emma during this period and she decides to tease me about what I did. "I didn't know you're so slutty, Philip. Fucking my best friend at school like that," Emma says, making me go red. "Aw, you're so cute when you blush! If you weren't dating my best friend, I'd definitely add you to my harem. Granted, 53 guys is already a lot but I could always use another cock." My eyes go wide in shock at her words and she sits her Starbucks coffee, before noticing my expression. "Oh, I am very active on Tinder," she says by way of explanation. "Not that you would know about that. I bet you never hooked up with anyone on Tinder." "I never hooked up with anyone. Heather's the only girl I ever had sex with," I mutter, making her smile brightly. "Why are you smiling like that? I can understand if she smiles like that because she's my first time, but why are you so happy about it?" Emma just chuckles to herself and a guy behind her taps her on the shoulder, making her whirl around to look at him. He whispers something. "The jocks can fuck me for free; but geeks like you have to take me to a nice restaurant, first. Can you do that?" she says to him while I watch, curious. The guy nods. "Good. Afterward, if you're well behaved; I'll take you back to my place and let you screw me." Then Emma turns back to look at me. "It's not difficult for me to get laid since I am really hot and pretty much put out for everyone. Some, like him, just have to put in a little effort. If they make an investment, they appreciate the outcome more. Where were we?" I remind her that we were talking about why she's so happy that I was a virgin before fucking, or rather, getting fucked by her friend. "Oh, that. Well, I'm just happy for her that she got a virgin cock. Especially the virgin cock of the boy she's been in love with for a long time." Mow I was smiling. And the smile lasted for the rest of the school day. Heather Explains her techniques. Getting my adorable boyfriend to fuck me in the ass at school yesterday was so fun. It's the best experience of my life. His cock is tiny compared to some of the ones I got stuffed by, but just the fact that it belongs to the boy I love; was and will always be enough for me. I can't wait to make him fuck me at school again. If he says no, then I'll just threaten to get my fix by someone else. My friends will tell them that it is possible, given how much I used to sleep around. I don't think I'm a slut, but I was not an innocent little girl either. I was just a kind of sexually active teen. Right now we are in my bedroom together. Philip suddenly turns to me, putting his book down on the desk. He has a very earnest look in his eyes. "I want to tell you something, baby," he says to me. "This means a lot to me, alright?" He holds my hands tightly and I look at him in surprise. Philip isn't usually this intense. His eyes tell me that whatever he is about to say now is something that's very important. "I love you. I love you a lot, Heather. I know that it might seem too soon, but I really do. You are the first and only girl I have ever and will ever say that to.” I smile and look into his eyes for a bit. “Please, I'm not expecting you to say the same thing. Just say something. Anything." I don't reply yet, but grab his chin and press my lips to his, kissing him hard and making him moan. Then I move back slightly and tell him; "I love you too, Philip." Philip smiles coyly as I give him another smooch, holding him in my arms. "I've been in love with you for a long time now, Philip. I'm sorry I took so long before saying it to you." I reach under the desk and begin to grope him through his pants and unzip him, when my dad suddenly enters the room. "Oh, hi dad," I say to him casually. Philip backs away in shock as he realizes what is going on. My dad is a six foot eight, 230 pound guy. He was a defensive end in college. With a scowl on his face, he looks more than intimidating. He glares at Philip and asks me " Who the hell is this spineless, little shrimp? Does he come from a rich family?" Even if he doesn't dress well, my father owns a lot of assets, both from the ranch and the vineyards. He would always tell me that I need to get a rich, strong husband who could protect me. Then my father says to Philip " What is your intention with my daughter? Are you going to use her for sex or money? You corrupted her with your lust, didn't you?" Philip stammers. He is clearly nervous and I don't blame him. My dad thinks I am an innocent girl, because I only fucked guys at their places or at school, with Sean being the exception. Okay, Jeremy the gardener, too. "I'm in love with her, sir," my boyfriend finally manages to say to my dad. Surprisingly enough, his voice doesn't tremble much despite the sweat forming above his thin eyebrows. I know my dad wouldn't hurt me, but even I can get a bit scared of him at times. It's hard not to when he looks the way he does. I'm so caught off guard by how well Philip articulated himself in his presence. "And not to mention, he never took any advantage of me, dad," I say. "In fact, I took advantage of him. Several times, too. He wanted to wait but I threatened to accuse him of raping me, if he didn't do what I want. Kind of like what Aunt Janine did with her husband." My dad looks disturbed by this fact about his own sister, but his rage has dissipated. "Come on, you know how the women in our family are. I'm just like mom, and would she let you take advantage of her? It's the oth
November 1 · length unknown
The Rancher's Daughter: Part 1
The Rancher's Daughter: Part 1. The popular cheerleader has a secret crush on the nerd. Based on a post by Dash91830. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. My name is Heather Duran and I'm not a slut, even though my friends think I am. Ever since my 18th birthday three months ago, I've had sex with a new guy every day, but that doesn't mean anything. Guys asked me out, not only because of my very beautiful face, glossy blonde hair, Big tits, and huge booty, but also because I'm a sure thing. I've literally put out for anyone and everyone who asked me for sex, if they asked politely. They didn't even have to buy me dinner. I never even cared how they look. If you politely asked me to spread my legs then I would let you pump your cock in my pussy. It's how I managed to get fucked by 90 guys. I am on my knees in front of one of the best ones. The gardener, Jeremy; is a very tall and muscular man with an eight inches cock. I'm stroking his large shaft with my hands, using one to caress the middle while the other stimulates his head. I love the way that his cock throbs in my fists as I pump it with both hands. I have always been obsessed with cocks and enjoy all kinds of sex very much, including handjobs. I live in Napa Valley, north of the San Fran area. Dad inherited the family ranch and vineyard and mom was a hot cheerleader for Stanford, when dad played football there. We have a gorgeous home and it's kept perfect because of our housekeeper and our gardener. I actually encouraged my parents to hire Jeremy as our gardener when he applied last month, since he's so hot and I wanted to give his cock a ride, even before knowing how big it is. I have all sorts of ways to get cock. I've even paid for stuff by fucking the repairmen, cops, teachers, and shop clerks. Some rich jocks at school tried to offer me money to fuck them. Curious, I decided to shock Trevor by saying; “Have you got a million dollars?” “I'll pay you fifty bucks for a blow and a fuck.” He rebuts. “What the hell! Do you think I'm a whore?” “We've already established that. Now we're just haggling about price.” That's why I avoid uppity people who think they can manipulate others. Back to My gardener. I keep jerking Jeremy off and say; "Do you like how my hands feel on your big fucking cock, baby?" He grunts and nods as I deliver an expert handjob. It's actually just some practice for me, like the other 89 guys are. I have never developed feelings for anyone except Philip, a nerdy guy in my class who I've been in love with for three years. I just want to have some fun before asking him out and settling down. "You give the best handjob, sweetie," Jeremy groans in pleasure as I slide my hands up and down his huge prick. Of course I give the best handjobs. I have had 90 guys to practice with. Today is the last day of me having causal hook ups though. Today I'll stop it and go ask Philip out. This is just a way for me to say goodbye to a fun, active part of my life. His cock looks perfect and his pre-cum looks very delicious. I know it is tasty since I've feasted on it several times before and it never disappointed. With a grin, I swipe the underside of his cock with my thumb. He responds by slapping me across the face with his huge cock. Then I bend forward slightly, engulfing his cock head with my lips. Sucking on it gently, I slide my lips to the base of his cock. His pole is a large one but I've sucked cocks so many times it's no longer difficult for me to deep throat one. There is nothing I enjoy more than sucking a rocket, not even volleyball, and I'm one of if not the best on my school's team. Playing the sport and horse riding is what enhanced my large, round ass that has been roughly pounded by 90 guys already. Yes, I let all of them fuck my ass. Jeremy fucks my face really hard and I love it. I love being used as a cum dumpster. Feeling his cock in my mouth makes me so wet and my cunt is getting very moist. Eventually, he explodes in my mouth, flooding it with semen. I eagerly gulp it down. I always swallow. After gulping down the first few ropes, I take his cock out of my mouth and jerk him off, making him spray the rest of his load all over my dolled up face. I love feeling warm cum splash onto my cheeks and he knows it, giving it to me, decorating my gorgeous face with his semen. It doesn't take long at all before he has glazed both my cheeks in his sticky, white cum. "That was really good, Jeremy," I tell him." But now it's time for you to fuck me." I then lie down on my back and spread my legs apart. He lies between my legs and buries his hard cock inside me. I gasp out loud from the pleasure of being penetrated. He smirks before thrusting, driving his prick in and out of my pussy. God, I love getting fucked so much. Today I'm going to put an end to my exploits and settle down with Philip so I might as well go out with a bang. My hands reach up to grip his back tightly and claw at him as he pumps his cock deep into me. Jeremy fucks me really hard. He is one of the best guys who's ever fucked me, and that's saying a lot since I let 90 guys into my pussy. Like I said before, I'm not a slut. I just want to explore and sample as many cocks as possible before going out with my nerdy love. I think about Philip's adorable face as my cunt spasms from getting drilled. Having a large cock pound my snatch feels so wonderful. I'll probably have to use my special dildo to feel good after giving up on large cocks, judging by what I heard from guys who were in the locker room with Philip. But that's okay, since I'm having the perfect goodbye right now. He seesaws in and out of my very tight pussy, and my cunt is like a molten glove that fits around him perfectly and sears his prick with the flames of my lust. Jeremy's large balls slap into my huge ass and he grunts as the friction increases with every stroke of his cock. It becomes too much for Jeremy and he starts cumming bucket loads inside me, filling up my pussy. This triggers my own orgasm. I could feel his creamy semen enter my womb as he cums for the next twenty seconds. It is perfect and once he pulls his still hard cock out of me, I flip over onto all fours. He knows what I want and slams his already lubricated cock into my asshole. My ass is both smooth and muscular, and more than used to taking massive cocks. His huge penis slides in very easily. Jeremy's rod hits deep, stuffing me as he drills my backdoor passage. "Cum in my ass," I tell him and he empties his balls, filling up my bowels with his seed. I sigh in bliss and then tell him; "Get back to work now, handsome. That was the last time. We'll never have sex again." Then I go take a shower and put my clothes on, applying make up to my beautiful face to make myself look even better. Then I drive the Aston Martin that my dad bought for me two months ago to school. I like to go there late, but today I arrive much earlier than usual. In fact I am actually one of the very few people there when I get to the school. Another is Sean, a buff janitor who I've thought of getting banged by before. With a coy bite on my lower lip, I approach him and tap his shoulder. He turns around to face me and I say; "I have an itch that you can scratch for me." The man has a visible tent in his pants, making me smile. "Do you want to fuck me, handsome? My pussy is free for use." I then slip my hand down my skirt and rub my clit, feeling how it is already engorged again. "You are a fucking slut," he tells me as he leads me into a nearby shed. I am not a slut but I allow him to call me this since he is clearly getting really turned on and I really want his cock to be my second cock of the day. It is my last day of having loads of fun before settling down and I intend to make the most of it. He rips his pants and boxers down and his cock is even bigger than I hoped for. It is a nine inch rocket. I quickly get down on my knees and slide my lips down to the base, deep throating it easily. Like I said earlier, I have loads of experience sucking cocks. He stands there moaning as I give him a first rate blowjob and tug on his balls, rubbing them gently. It makes me soaked to suck on this glorious slab and he thrusts into the back of my throat, making my saliva coat him. Then he yanks me up and I spin around, placing my hands on a wall and thrusting my inverted heart-shaped ass back at him. Sean yanks my tight miniskirt down and pauses. He fingers my cunt curiously and I quickly figure out what's going on. "It's cum," I told him." Someone else already creamed inside me just forty minutes ago, but I'm still horny. Now stick that monster inside me and fuck my brains out." "I can't believe how much of a whore you are," he says to me as he drives his large prick inside my molten tunnel. His good looks and excellent equipment are the only reason I'm letting him fuck me. He is such a jerk, calling me a whore when I'm not one. I'm just very sexual, that's all. The thought disappears when he is slamming deep into me from behind, making me feel so good I have to ram back, my huge firm ass crashing into his waist. He fucks me for what feels like ten minutes before flooding my cunt with semen. Then he yanks his cock out and I tell him; "I want another load, this time in my ass." Sean just slides into my huge ass and begins fucking my ass hole really violently, pounding me and making me cry out in pleasure. I love getting fucked in my ass so much. The way he stretches out my ass hole. There is nothing better than feeling the impressive girth stretching my tight shit hole to the limit and tearing it apart, destroying my ass with his aggressive fucking. Soon, he has his second orgasm, making me climax when his warm cum sloshes inside my ass and fills up my dirty orifice. He then withdraws his cock and puts his pants back on. I do the same with my skirt and leave the shed. By now my friends should be here. I head over to where our lockers are, anxious to meet them. Emma and Larissa are there like I expected. There are also many other students in the hallway by now. I look at the time and am surprised that I've actually been getting fucked for half an hour before coming here. "Hey!" Emma hugs me and greets with a kiss on the cheek, one that I return. "What's up? Did you get fucked this morning?" Then she sticks her hand up my skirt and feels the cum dripping out of my vagina. She smirks and then turns to look at Larissa, who clearly understands the meaning of that smile. "You slut! You did get fucked already, didn't you?" "By two guys," I explain, making the two of them gape. "The first was the gardener and then it was the janitor. Today is the final day of debauchery though. You know what I'm going to do." Both Larissa and Emma nod. "You're going to ask Philip out," Larissa says with a teasing grin, Philip is a good looking guy whom we've all known since he was in elementary school. He had severe ADHD and was in the special ed group until last spring, when he seems to have outgrown the childhood behavioral disbility. He was on meds and very drugged out, so no one really included him in their social circles. He's still nerdy, but now is gorgeous and sweet as a fella can be. Larissa couldn't wait to see me rattle the social ladder by hooking up with a former special ed guy. Then she interrupted my answer, her smile grows even wider. "Behind you." I turn around and see Henry and Simon, two dorks from the chess club. "Hey, what's up?" I ask them, noticing the flirtatious glint in their eyes. Looks like I'll get two more final fucks before entering a real relationship. "May I please fuck you today?" Henry asks. "Tom said you'd let me if I ask politely." "Whoa, dude. I told you first that I'd like to fuck her. You only got the idea later," Simon interrupts. Then he turns to me "Please? I've been dying to fuck you for a long time now. Let me fuck you, Heather, Please?" "There's no need to fight over me, boys. I have more than one hole, you know?" I say to them with a teasing grin, making their faces light up. Emma and Larissa are staring at me in shock, even though they know how often I've fucked. Most of my fellow popular girls wouldn't fuck geeks like them, but I always let a boy fuck me if he asks politely. "Come on. Let's go to the locker room and have a threesome. You two can decide who gets my pussy and who gets my mouth." Unlocking Two Raging Cocks at Once. After Henry and Simon asked me to have sex with them, I've led them to the locker room. I used the key that I got by sucking the coach's cock and locked it. Right now I'm on my knees in front of the two nerds, waiting as they unzip their pants. Their cocks are only six inches but since they were polite when asking me for a fuck and said please, I'm going to let them put their cocks in me. I kneel between the two of them and wrap my right hand around Henry's prick, and the left around Simon's. "I'm only going to let you guys fuck me once, so we'll make it count." Then I wrapped my lips around Henry's manhood and slide them firmly to his base. It is ridiculously easy after sucking dozens of bigger tools but I still enjoy it. The only thing I enjoy more than giving blowjobs is taking it up the ass. I hum around his cock as I continue to pump Simon's hard shaft. "You are so kind, sucking my cock like that," Henry says, much to my delight. I like to think of myself as a generous girl, allowing anyone who wanted my pussy to fuck me. It's an act of charity, and there is nothing slutty about it at all, not matter what the idiots say. "And so good at sucking it too." Henry marvels. I stop giving him the blowjob and stroke it, telling him " Thank you. I've had a lot of practice. You guys are the 92nd and 93rd guys, the very last guys I'll have sex with before asking the boy I love, out." Then I turn over to kiss the tip of Simon's pole and lick up his pre-cum. "I'm in love with Philip. I'm going to let you guys spit roast me and fill me with your spunk. After that I'll go to Philip and ask him out on a date." After telling them what I'm planning to do, I suck Simon's cock past my lips and begin fellating him while jerking off Henry. Whenever I have an orgy, I always treat every boy equally. "That's really kinky," Henry remarks as he gets a perfect handjob from me while I suck his friend off. They high five above my head and I could feel Simon's full balls slapping into my chin as he face-fucks me like three guys have already done this morning. We're going to be late for homeroom, but I don't care. I just need to get fucked one last time before asking Philip out and committing myself to him. I love that boy and will never cheat on him, which is why I've been sleeping around when we're not together yet. After blowing Simon for a while, I stop. Ripping my skirt down, I get down on all fours and tell him; "Fuck my pussy from behind and pull my hair." Then I look into Henry's eyes " You can slam it into my mouth and cum straight down my throat while your best friend fills my cunt." The two boys quickly get into position I told them, with Henry right in front of me and sliding his prick into my mouth, while Simon impales my hairy cunt from behind. He wraps my hair around his hand and yanks it as he starts fucking my pussy. I've occasionally shaved down there and have a slight bush above my vagina. With a soft moan, I slam my ass back to take him in me to the hilt as Henry wraps both hands around the back of my neck to steady his assault on my open throat. Then he pumps his cock in and out of my wide-open mouth. "I can't believe she's so tight," Simon says to Henry. I'm too drunk on cock to be offended, even though that would I would find it very insulting when I'm not sucking and fucking. He slams into me really hard whil
November 1 · length unknown
A Night of Sweet Treats And Deflowering: Part 2
A Night of Sweet Treats And Deflowering: Part 2. The Consummations. Based on a post by MoonlitOpal. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Sam's eyes grew wide as he grinned. "You really did think of everything, didn't you?" "Yep." I placed the box on the table beside the couch, then stood before Sam and slowly took off my dress. I was trembling with excitement, and as his hungry stare moved over me, I felt my nipples harden beneath my stretch lace underwire bra. "You're beautiful, Iris," he whispered. I grinned and went to Sam, leaning forward so I could give him a deep kiss. Then I climbed onto the couch, kneeling beside him. Without speaking, I began trying to unfasten his pants, but my hands were shaking so much, I struggled with the simple task. I was grateful when Sam took over. Once he had his pants and underwear down around his thighs, I stared at his glorious erection, which pulsed in time with his heartbeat. Looking up at Sam's face again, I saw that his gaze was pleading, full of the same need overtaking me, and I wanted more than anything to make him feel good. Extending my hand, I wrapped my fingers around his cock, and it twitched in my grasp. As I began gently stroking, Sam let his head fall back, a low groan emerging from deep in his throat. I delighted in the silkiness of his flesh. Sliding the pad of my thumb over his cock head, I felt a drop of moisture. My mouth watered when I thought about tasting it. Eagerly I leaned forward, brushing my lips against his purple cock tip. Now Sam was trembling, too, and his obvious excitement made me brave enough to swirl my tongue all around the lovely mushroom head. The slight saltiness of his skin, combined with a trace of sweetness from his pre-cum, filled me with carnal lust. "Iris," he moaned while brushing my hair back from my face. Grasping his erection, I planted kisses along the entire length of his rigid veiny shaft. I inhaled his scent, which only heightened my arousal. I was soaking wet between my thighs. Finally I wrapped my lips constricting tight around Sam's throbbing cock. The sound of his heavy breathing competed with the volume of the dramatic organ music from the television, and the flickering light from the horror movie screen, fell on my face as I did my best to pleasure him. I wasn't able to take much at first. As soon as his cock reached the back of my tongue, I had to suppress my gag reflex. He was careful not to thrust his hips, instead letting me set the pace. I recalled the technique of relaxing my throat and tongue. While saliva trickled from my mouth to coat his cock, I stroked him, then lowered my lips until I reached my hand. "Ah, fuck!" he cried. "Iris, that feels so good!" I'd never heard Sam use vulgar words before, and I took it as a compliment. He seemed lost to his lust, and to the feel of my licking and sucking and stroking. I tried again to take him deeper, exhaling as another inch of his cock disappeared between my lips. It was then that I felt Sam caress my back, his fingertips running along my spine. While I fondled his balls and used my tongue to give plenty of attention to the underside of his cock, he reached between my thighs. I moaned when he began rubbing me through my stretch lace panties. At first, his touch was a little too low, but I wasn't about to lift my head from his cock and give him directions. Then his fingers homed in on my clit, and I moaned even louder, letting him know he'd reached just the right spot. "I love how wet you are," he told me in a guttural voice. I was glad he found it exciting, because my body seemed intent on producing a copious amount of lubrication for my first time. As Sam continued massaging my clit, I shivered from the sheer pleasure of it, and I realized I wanted him to come in my mouth. I wanted to feel him orgasm while my lips were wrapped around his cock. "Iris, I'm close," he suddenly warned me. I heard his gasp when I continued sucking, hollowing my cheeks in the process. "Iris, oh God!" I moaned, letting him know I didn't want him to hold back. His balls constricted and his sack transformed into a tight rounded pouch at the base of his petrified shaft He let out a loud cry. I withdrew a bit and locked my lips firmly securely at the ridge of his crown's swollen ridge, as his whole body tensed, The first rope of semen landed on my tongue. Quickly I swallowed, tasting the hot saltiness of it, and my tongue caressing the underside frenulum of his glorious crown. More spunk quickly followed, and despite my best efforts, it was impossible for me to get it all down. Some escaped my lips, but I didn't raise my head until Sam was completely spent. Finally licked up the streams of cum which escaped and ran down his shaft. One last gentle suck of his crown and I sat up. Grinning, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. He stared at me, seemingly transfixed. "Was that okay?" I asked. "That was fucking fantastic!" he panted, still catching his breath. "My God, if you're a virgin, how did you learn to do that?" "By reading how-to articles, YouTube instructional videos, and watching porn," I confessed with a grin. Sam laughed, then pulled me close so he could give me a gentle kiss. "Thank you for that," he whispered against my lips. "I enjoyed doing it," I whispered back. "It made me excited, knowing I was exciting you so much." His eyes were full of affection as he regarded me. "No pressure, but if you still want tonight to be our first time, it won't take me long to get hard again," he revealed. "Now that's good to know," I said, then tilted my head back while Sam's lips traveled over my neck. "What should we do in the meantime, Sam?" "I think we should see if I can make you come while my face is buried between your thighs," he replied, his breath warm against my skin. I released a whimper, unable to hide my eagerness as I nodded. Sam stood facing me, and began to undress. His cock was semi flaccid, but still rather full and dangled so deliciously for my entertainment. Sitting on the couch before him, I was far too impatient to go slow. Instead, I hurriedly reached behind me to unhook my underwire bra before tossing it toward his lovely cock. The cool air greeted my erect nipples, making them even harder, and Sam fixed his stare on my tits. I couldn't resist cupping them in my hands and pushing them together for his benefit. "Iris, you're killing me," he groaned. I watched as he pulled down his boxer briefs and stepped out of them. Now that he was completely nude, I allowed myself several long moments to take in the gorgeous sight. Like me, Sam would be considered average by many people, yet I found him so sexy, I'd already creamed my panties. That thought reminded me I still had on my wet underwear. Snapping out of my lust-filled daze, I turned sideways and laid my head on the sofa's armrest, then arched my ass up and yanked off my panties, then spread my legs wide. Sam wasn't joking when he told me it wouldn't take him long to get hard again. He was already semi-erect, and as I planted my feet on the cushion, keeping my knees bent, his gaze settled between my thighs. For a long moment, Sam studied me, as if he wanted to commit the sight of my naked body to memory. He took in my flowing hair and the costume jewelry earrings and choker, His eyes diverted to my ruby red lipstick, then my mascara eyelashes. He gazed a while on the natural recline of my C cup tits, and especially the dark stiff nipples now swollen like chapel spires from two hills. He licked his lips as he took in my dramatically narrowed waist and the ruby studded navel piercing. But when he moved to kneel on the other end of the sofa, he locked his gaze on the glossy wet lips of my cunt, and the bulging stiff reddened nub of my horny clit. The trimmed and manicured mound of my mons seemed to invite him to frolic in my newly-mowed lawn. Then he began stroking his cock, his chest rapidly rising and falling with each shallow breath. When Sam leaned over me, I thought he would ravish me right the, But he placed a stiff arm next to my head and reached up toward the table behind me, I thought he was reaching for the box of condoms, but he only turned on the lamp. I tried not to flinch in the sudden light, for it had been far easier to be uninhibited in the shadows. "I want to get a good look at you," he said in a husky voice, then he knelt back on his haunches, and leaned forward so he was at eye level with my most intimate place. I fought the bashful urge to close my legs and hide myself. "I can't wait to taste you," Sam whispered, placing both hands inside each of my knees, then slowing sliding them up my inner thighs, til he stopped at my crotch. His thumbs then worked gently, probing my cunt lips. His index fingers ran through the pubes of my mound. Then he began drawing his fingertips between my wet, swollen inner folds. His mere touch brought a cry from my lips. He gently spread my cunt folds wide as he lowered his mouth to kiss my mons fur. Then he extended his tongue and licked my hood, I knew he was gathering traces of my juices on his tongue. His kisses were gentle while he traveled inward. By the time his mouth was just touching my clit, I was writhing on the couch, desperate for him. Sam's eyes turned up and met mine. "Let me know what feels good, and what you want me to keep doing," he murmured, and I readily nodded. I honestly wasn't sure what to expect. Of course I'd imagined how this would feel, but imagining was worlds apart from actually experiencing. I was convinced I'd enjoy it, yet I wondered if it would be all that much different from the sensation I derived from touching myself. But oh God! It was different! As Sam sucked at my smooth outer lips, drawing them into his mouth, I couldn't hold back my mewls of pleasure. He gently spread me open with his fingers, and I stared down at him, my eyes widening when his tongue slid from my entrance to my clit. "Yes!" I cried. My hips began their rhythmic rocking, as if I were already fucking. I heightened my bliss by fondling my nipples, rolling those peaks between my fingers. Sam gazed up at me, and the blatant lust in his eyes made a shudder course through my body. The sound and feel of his eager lapping at my folds, and the warmth of his mouth mingling with my heat, was almost enough to make me orgasm right then and there. But he was far from finished with me. His lips gently circled my clit, almost teasingly, before he began lashing the swollen nub of flesh with his tongue. My plaintive cries filled the room. "Sam, oh God, keep doing that, please!" I begged. He happily complied, working his tongue against my clit at a relentless pace. I buried my fingers in his hair, resisting the urge to press his mouth even harder against me. Yet he seemed to sense what I needed, for he grabbed my hips, holding me firmly to him. My face was hot, and my tits heaved as I breathed hard and fast. "I'm gonna come!" I wailed. "I'm so close!" Sam moaned at my words. He rose up and took my wrists away from my tits, placing them up over the armrest where my head was. He set his elbows beside my ribs and his fingers began pinching and rolling my rock-hard nipples. He body sank down on mine and his mouth landed directly on my engorged cunt. He resumed showing my clit no mercy. The stimulation was almost more than I could bear, but my thighs began shaking, signaling that my body was about to surrender to a powerful orgasm. My body was now fully surrendered to his delight. I gave myself to his will. I welcomed the lust which now consumed me. The first spasm caused me to arch my back and raise my hips. "Sam... oh, fuck!" I managed to shriek before falling silent and allowing the blissful contractions to seize me. I felt awash in ecstasy, never wanting it to end. My thighs tremored as if I was in a seizure. Then it suddenly became too much. Still shaking, I squirmed in Sam's grasp, drawing my thighs pressed together against his head. "I can't, oh! It's too sensitive!" I managed to moan. He withdrew his tormenting tongue and then lifted his head, smiling as he gazed at my swollen clit. His expression made it clear that he was quite pleased with my helpless state. When he crawled up to kiss me on the couch, I noticed he was fully erect once more. I was breathing hard, yet I readily accepted his kiss. "Do you want to wait a little while?" he asked, smoothing my hair back from my flushed face. I quickly shook my head. While my clit was temporarily overstimulated, the rest of my body was another matter. I now felt his hard cock bent down between my asscheeks. Deep in my core, I throbbed with the need to take Sam deep inside me. This time he did reach for the condoms. I watched eagerly as he took one from the box. I slid down away from my lust-filled body and knelt to adorn the orange Halloween-themed rubbers I bought at the costume shop. Though he was a virgin, he seemed to know how to put it on correctly, and he winked at me while rolling the condom down the length of his erection. I grinned, making no attempt to hide my excitement. When Sam was ready, He took my two hands and raised me to sitting. Then he started to lie back on the other armrest of the sofa, and I looked at him expectantly. "Why don't you straddle me?" he suggested. "Then you can control the pace while taking me inside. The last thing I want to do is hurt you." He was breathing faster, anticipation and lust clear on his face, yet he was putting my needs first. Stroking his lovely, lubed orange cock, I nodded before moving to plant a knee on either side of him. As I hovered above his cock, I took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm a little nervous," I revealed with a shy smile. "I understand," he said, his voice low and soothing. "Just take it slow, okay? No rush." "Okay." I placed my hands on the back of the armrest, on each side of his head, bracing myself while balancing on my knees. Sam sucked on my dangling left tit. Wigh his right hand he took hold of his sheathed cock. His left hand wrapped around my ass, and I waited for him to guide the tip directly to my opening so I could sink down upon it. Instead, he gently slid it between my inner lips, coating it with my juices. I was so wet, we didn't need lube. When Sam's cock grazed my clit, I released a needy whimper and knew no amount of discomfort would stop me from taking every inch of him inside. When he positioned his cock right at my entrance, I knew it was my turn to descend. I began lowering my body. "Ooh!" I released a soft cry as the head stretched me. Then, trying to hide my wince, I swallowed hard, then took another deep breath and kept going. My body was ready, more than ready, but I still had to move slowly. Sam gazed up at me, his expression rapt. I heard his groan of pleasure when I managed to accept the tip of his cock. There was a little pain, yes; but more of a sensation of pressure, of tremendous stretching. I knew Sam's cock was beautifully, perfectly average, but at that moment, it felt massive as it penetrated me. Nothing bigger, or thicker, would have any more satisfying than my lovely Sam's turgid phallus. Then Sam was all the way inside, and I couldn't hold back a relieved smile while I settled down upon him. My clit now pleasured by his furry mound. I Gently shifted back and forth while fully penetrated by the joyful orange-coated latex, "Ribbed for my pleasure." He smiled, too, then pulled me in, to kiss me. I moaned into his mouth; I wondered if he could feel me trembling. At first I was afraid to move, afraid it would hurt. Sam appeared to read my mind, for he repeated, "No rush." Then he reached both hands to cup my ass, and gently rubbed my sphincter. By that point, it wasn't as tender, and I took pleasure in the stimulation. "Oh, that feels so good," I groaned. "You feel so good." And he did. Though I hadn't yet begun to pump, I derived a deep satisfaction from being so completely filled; my clit so tantalizingly tickled. Sam's breath came faster, and his mouth found mine once more, I realized he was shaking, too. Was it hard for him to remain still while he patiently waited for me to get used to his cock inside me? Finally I worked up the nerve to begin rising, my hips twerking in a slow, rhythmic pace. I kept him almost all the way inside, not brave enough to try sliding all the way up and down his length, but as Sam's features contorted with ecstasy, I knew he loved the way I gently rode him. With his finger massaging my rosebud, he lowered his mouth to my left tit and took my nipple between his lips. "Oh God, yes!" I cried. It was as if my body had become a singular pulsing current of bliss, and my hips began moving faster. Sam let out a loud groan, which was muffled by my tit. A thin layer of sweat covered my skin, and I grew even more excited by the feel of his mouth sucking my nipple. His right hand came up and pinched my other nipple. When Sam withdrew his head, he gave me a pleading stare. "Iris, oh! Oh fuck! I'm not going to last!" His words were edged with something like panic. Seeing as how it was his first fuck, too; I certainly didn't expect him to hold out long. "That's okay," I assured him with an affectionate smile. "Don't hold back, Sam." While rolling my hips, I basked in the raw pleasure of the act. I could feel my own orgasm building, and soon Sam and I were both quaking, on the verge of release. His groans and my cries were loud enough to make me glad my roommate Nora, was out for the evening. I felt Sam tense, just before he came. His eyes locked with mine, and I gasped when he bucked his hips, His hands now firmly gripping my hips while driving his cock deeper inside me. He gave a helpless shout as he climaxed; his jaw slackening. Yet even in the grip of his orgasm, he continued pressing me tight so my clit kept rubbing his pubes, determined to make me come. "Yes!" I wailed, surrendering to him then: to his fingers, his cock, and his stare full of bliss. A low scream escaped my lips as I reached my orgasm, my body wracked by delicious spasms. My muscles clenched around Sam's cock again and again, and he released a low groan. His breaths were shallow, and his face was flushed. Finally my contractions subsided, and as much as I wanted to nestle up against Sam and bask in our post-orgasmic satisfaction, I knew I couldn't. After giving him a quick kiss, I sat up, and he held the condom in place so it wouldn't slip while I eased myself off of him. Sam looked down at his slowly softening orange-hooded cock. It was coated in my juices. He let out a proud "Ah!", and then he looked at me and grinned. "My God, that was incredible!" he said. "It sure was," I replied, my grin mirroring his. Then I wondered if I was bleeding; I was only a little sore after our first time, but I figured I'd better check just in case. "Be right back," I told him, then hurried to the bathroom to relieve myself. Wiping between my thighs, I discovered I hadn't bled at all. Next, it was Sam's turn to clean up, and while he was in the bathroom, I put on my matching lacey bra and panties. Grabbing a folded blanket from under the lamp table, I sat down and wrapped it around me, and I realized I couldn't stop smiling. Whatever the future might hold for me and Sam, I knew I would never regret him being my first. He returned still naked, to the living room, giving me a sweet grin. I watched as he pulled on his underwear over his depleted lovely cock. Then he slipped on his pants, but didn't bother with his shirt. I stood and opened the blanket, revealing my bra and panty ensemble, as I embraced him with an open mouth kiss. Then he settled in, lying on the couch behind me; Snuggling, spooning me, and I situated the blanket over us. Sam wove his fingers through my hair, giving me kisses on my erogenous neck. Though I'd just come twice, my body immediately responded to him. He held me close, a
October 31 · length unknown
A Night of Sweet Treats And Deflowering: Part 1
A Night of Sweet Treats And Deflowering: Part 1. Iris and Sam have a sexy ‘deflowering’ party for two on Halloween. Based on a post by MoonlitOpal. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. On a beautiful late October afternoon, Sam and I decided to eat lunch outside the call center where we worked. Sitting on a wooden bench near the building entrance, we dug into the sandwiches we'd brought from home. "It's such a gorgeous day," I sighed. The sky held no trace of clouds, and a maple to my right was spectacular in its display of scarlet foliage. Breathing deep, I delighted in the cool, crisp air. "Soon it's going to be freezing," Sam said. We'd been working together for almost a year, long enough for me to know he preferred summer to colder weather. "Then there will be no lunches for you and me outside, Iris. We'll be stuck inside the cafeteria for months." I knew he was right, but I wouldn't let thoughts of winter, with its frigid days and waning light, dampen my mood. Sam and I chatted about work and how hectic things had been as of late, and after I finished my sandwich, I reached for the small bag of candy corn I'd packed for dessert. Though I knew Sam didn't share my love of sweets, I offered some to him anyway. He shook his head. "No, thank you." "Oh, come on!" I insisted. "It's almost Halloween! It's practically tradition to eat candy corn this time of year." He looked at me with an amused smile, and I couldn't help feeling a nervous flutter deep in the pit of my stomach. Sam was twenty-three, a year older than I, and he had gorgeous brown eyes, so expressive they could make a girl's heart melt. His dark hair seemed in constant need of a trim; sometimes I had to resist the urge to run my fingers through it and brush it back from his face. "My family never celebrated Halloween," Sam revealed. I remembered him mentioning that his parents were extremely religious. Sam didn't strike me as particularly devout, and I got a sense that his lack of church atttendance had caused a rift between him and the rest of his family. "It's just like any other day to me," he went on. I loved Halloween, though being a shy introvert, I never did much to enjoy the festivities. Parties and crowds made me break out in a sweat, so I usually spent Halloween at my mom's house, where we would hand out candy and watch scary movies while eating enough junk food to give us a sugar high. This year, however, she had to travel for work, and I'd resigned myself to spending Halloween alone in my apartment. Turning toward Sam now, I playfully held out my tongue so he could see the piece of candy corn resting on it. "You should get dressed up and binge on candy at least once in your life," I told him. "Well, what about you?" he asked. "What are your plans for Halloween?" I shrugged. "My social life is pretty much nonexistent, so I don't have any. Unless..." My heart suddenly felt like it was pounding in my throat, and my mouth grew dry from nervousness. I averted my stare, then sneaked a glance at him. "Unless you want to come over to my apartment," I finally managed to say. My ability to flirt was abysmal; I couldn't have been beguiling if my life depended on it. To make matters worse, I knew my face was growing hot as I waited for Sam's answer. When he didn't speak right away, I awkwardly rushed on. "We could dress up if you want--there's still time to get costumes--and I could make a pizza for dinner. We could watch campy old horror movies and drink apple cider..." Even as I spoke, I couldn't bring myself to look at Sam. I was afraid he would find me pathetic. "You know what, Iris? That sounds like a lot of fun," he said, and I knew I wasn't imagining it when he moved a few inches closer to me. I tried and failed to suppress a delighted grin at his response. "Awesome! Why don't you come over at around six?" I suggested. Sam knew I lived in the lower-level apartment of a house not far from the call center. "I'll give you the address, and when you get there, just come around back." Sam's smile widened, as if my enthusiasm was contagious. "So you're going to introduce me to all the delights of Halloween?" he asked. Something in the tone of his voice made a delicious shiver travel down my spine. "I certainly hope to," I replied. He raised an eyebrow, and I had to duck my head so I could hide behind my shoulder-length brown hair. All the while, I told myself to calm down and stop acting like an idiot. It was just a little get-together at my place. Sam probably didn't even consider it a date. We were simply two friends hanging out for Halloween because we had no other plans. So why did I feel so nervous? Why were my palms sweaty and my hands shaky? Why was it that when I imagined Sam leaning in to kiss me, the thought sent a surge of heat straight between my thighs? "And you're going to wear a costume?" Sam asked. I looked up and gave him what I hoped was a casual smile. "Sure! I mean, you don't have to, but I haven't dressed up for Halloween in forever, so I figure this is my chance to go all out." Sam reached over to pluck a piece of candy corn from the bag in my lap. "Then I'll dress up, too. I can't promise anything spectacular, but I'll do my best," he said. "I can't wait to see what you come up with." Already I was trying to decide on a costume for myself. Should I be a witch? A princess? A ghost? None of those seemed original enough. When my eyes met Sam's once more, I immediately realized just what I wanted to be. Sitting so close to him, I knew I was the very definition of average: average height, average weight. My hazel eyes were somewhat large yet could still pass for average. But during the one night of the year when Sam and I would be alone, and I could transform into whatever or whomever I wanted, I resolved to be anything but average. I would be bold and confident, no longer shy and insecure. And maybe, just maybe, I would be brave enough to make it clear to Sam just how I felt about him. With any luck, he might decide he felt the same way about me. Halloween was still several days away, but I went shopping for a costume as soon as I left work later that afternoon. Some quick online browsing led me to a store downtown, and I could barely contain my excitement as I stepped inside the place. "Can I help you find something?" a woman behind the counter asked me. "The Bride of Frankenstein," I quickly replied, then added, "the costume, I mean." All the while I prayed the store had it in my size. The fates must have been smiling down upon me, because the saleslady easily located a costume that looked like it would be a perfect fit. "You're welcome to try it on," she told me. I gazed at the black wig, which of course featured white streaks on either side, and I imagined how I would look wearing it after I applied some dark red lipstick, along with black eyeliner and smoky eye shadow. The sleeves of the virginal white dress resembled bandages, and the garment's hem was almost floor-length. As I stroked the satiny fabric, I grinned with delight. "I don't need to try it on," I said to the saleslady. "This is what I want." The costume was a little pricey for my budget, but I handed over my credit card without hesitation. As I stared down at the dress on the counter, the symbolism of the outfit wasn't lost on me. While I would soon be twenty-three, I'd never had a real boyfriend, and I was still a virgin. After I paid for the costume and left the shop, I decided to swing by the grocery store. Outside the entrance, I studied the pumpkins for sale and finally selected a nice round one, large enough for carving. Once inside, I pushed a cart down the aisles, grabbing a frozen pizza, a variety pack of Halloween candy, and a half gallon of apple cider. Lingering in the cosmetics section, I chose the perfect shade of lipstick. As I surveyed the items in my cart, I realized I was smiling. Simply planning for my evening with Sam made that excited flutter return to my stomach. I tried not to let myself get too carried away imagining what Sam and I might do together on Halloween, but still I wandered the aisles, searching for an item I didn't dare ask for help in finding. Finally I located the condoms, and I stared in bewilderment at all the different kinds. Glancing around, I was relieved no other customers were nearby. Then I set about reading the descriptions on the boxes before choosing a brand that boasted durability. If I did have sex, durability was definitely what I wanted in a condom. I paid for the groceries and then started for home. By the time I pulled into the driveway, it was almost dark, and Nora, the woman who owned the house and lived on the upper level, had left the porch light on. I smiled at the kind gesture, though the entrance to my apartment was at the back of the house, so the light from the porch provided almost no illumination once I reached my door. Nora was middle-aged and recently divorced, so when she wasn't working, she was usually out with friends or on a date. Of the two of us, I was the homebody, and I thought she liked having a quiet tenant around to keep an eye on things while she was gone. Once I'd carried all my purchases into my apartment, I put away the groceries and then rushed to try on my costume. Standing before the mirror in my bedroom, I donned the Bride's dress. A delighted grin danced on my lips when I found that it indeed fit me perfectly. After putting on the wig to complete my outfit, I turned from side to side, trying to imagine what Sam would think of me. My costume wasn't sexy; if anything, the dress was modest. But I was definitely transformed into someone new while wearing it. I could only hope the getup persuaded Sam to see me in a different way, too. For the rest of the week, Sam and I ate lunch together, but neither of us mentioned him coming over for Halloween. The holiday fell on a weekend, and by Friday, I was worried Sam had forgotten all about our plans, but as we headed back inside after our lunch break, he looked over at me and smiled. "So I'll be at your place at six on Halloween night." I nodded, trying not to look too eager as I smiled back. "You have the address, right?" I'd given it to him earlier in the week, but I wanted to make sure. "Of course," he said. "Would you like me to bring anything?" "Just your handsome self," I replied without thinking, and as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to die of mortification. His handsome self? Who actually blurted out something like that? Awkward and socially inept Iris, that was who. The surprise was evident on Sam's face, but his smile widened. "I will be sure to do that, Iris. And by the way," he went on, leaning close to me and lowering his voice, "you're really cute when you blush." I spent the day of Halloween cleaning my apartment, determined to conceal the fact that I was a bit of a slob. By the time I had the place spotless, it was well into the afternoon, and once I ate a late lunch, I hurried to take a shower. As the water cascaded over me, I stared down at my body. I'd just shaved my legs and armpits, but I wasn't sure what to do about my pubic hair. I normally kept the dark triangle between my thighs closely trimmed, but now I wondered if I should shave it. If Sam and I got to the point where he actually saw my pubic hair, would he wish I was bare? Finally I decided to leave the hair covering my mound while I shaved my outer lips. When I set the razor aside, I slid my fingertips over the newly smooth skin and realized I liked the way it felt. My flesh felt more exposed, not only to the cool air and the water but also to my touch. I couldn't resist giving my clit a teasing rub. My body immediately responded, and a soft moan escaped my lips. I seemed perpetually horny; it was as if my body was desperately trying to steer me toward finally having sex. To relieve my frustration, I masturbated frequently, and it never took me long to come. Leaning against the shower wall, I spread my legs wider and began massaging my clit with a quick, circular motion. With my other hand, I sought out my entrance and worked two fingers deep inside. There was a twinge of discomfort, a hint of pain, while I attempted to stretch my opening. I knew losing my virginity would hurt, maybe a lot at first, but that wasn't enough to dampen my desire. Even now as I thrust my fingers in and out at a fervent pace, my body readily accepted the intrusion, and I could feel how wet I was. Glancing downward, I saw that my pale pink nipples were hard from my arousal. All I had to do was imagine Sam's mouth around one of them, and I was right on the edge of climax. My thighs shook as I rubbed my clit faster. I fantasized about the way Sam would look, the way he would feel, while he took me. "Fuck me, Sam!" I cried shamelessly. As the words echoed off the shower walls, I surrendered to a fierce orgasm. Releasing a helpless wail, I felt my muscles clench around my fingers deep within me. Again and again my body spasmed, and I reveled in each blissful contraction. After my climax subsided, I continued trembling. Gently withdrawing my fingers from between my thighs, I closed my eyes and waited for my breathing to slow. My movements were languid as I finished showering, and when I finally stepped out onto the bathmat and began drying off, I found I was relaxed, almost drowsy. Maybe it was a good thing I masturbated before Sam arrived, I thought. It would keep me from throwing myself at him as soon as he stepped inside my apartment. The idea of doing that made my sensitive clit throb, and I realized it would take far more than one orgasm to subdue my yearning for Sam. I went about blow drying my hair, then carefully pinned it back so it would be hidden under the wig. In my bedroom, I chose to wear a lacy white stretch lace underwire bra and matching panties beneath my dress. As I carefully applied make-up, I aimed for a dramatic effect that wasn't too over the top. My deep red lipstick was striking, and I managed to create the exact look I wanted with the eyeliner and shadow. Finally I put on the wig and stepped into black heels before giving my reflection a critical look. Then I grinned in satisfaction. "Perfect," I declared. A few minutes before six, I put the pizza in the oven. I was grateful for something to do, as my anxiety had returned with a ferocity that made my hands shake. It wasn't yet dark, but the day was fading fast outside the kitchen window. Thinking about what the evening might hold for me and Sam was enough to quicken my pulse. Sam arrived right on time, and when I heard his knock, I rushed to answer the door. As soon as we saw each other, our mouths dropped open. I'd never seen Sam in anything other than business casual, but he now stood before me wearing a black cape over a white dress shirt, black vest, and black pants. His burgundy ascot was a perfect final touch to the costume. His hair was slicked back, and he'd even given himself a prominent widow's peak. His stare swept over me, and when he grinned, I noticed his fangs. "You are one spectacular bride!" he exclaimed. I couldn't help but giggle at his compliment. "And you're one sexy vampire. I love your costume!" I made a show of beckoning him into the apartment. "I know you can't enter unless I explicitly invite you inside, so please do come in." Sam laughed and stepped into the living room. As soon as I closed the door behind us, he drew me into a quick hug. "Thanks for inviting me over tonight." After I recovered from my initial shock at being in Sam's arms, I hurriedly hugged him back. "Thanks for coming. Are you hungry? The pizza's almost ready." "Sounds great." He looked around my apartment as we headed toward the kitchen. "This is an awesome apartment." "It's kind of small, but I like it," I said. "Nora--the woman who owns the house and lives upstairs--told me she would be at a party tonight, so no one else is here." I tried to keep my voice casual as I revealed this information to Sam. "Then we can go absolutely wild," he responded with a grin. I knew he was only teasing, but the thought of going wild with him made my cheeks redden. All I had to do was remember my earlier fantasy in the shower, and I immediately grew wet. "We can do whatever we want," I informed him, flashing my own wicked grin. Sam raised his eyebrows, and I could have sworn I saw his face flush a little as well. I busied myself with taking the pizza out of the oven, hoping I hadn't come on too strong. "You need any help?" Sam asked. "Nope. Just make yourself comfortable, and I'll have this ready in a sec." Sam sat down at the table while I divided the pizza into slices. I couldn't help but be hyperaware of his presence, since I was used to spending all my time in the apartment alone. Once I'd put our plates on the table, along with a glass of cider for each of us, I sat across from Sam, trying to suppress a nervous giggle. "I'll have to take my fangs out," he said. "Yeah, I guess Dracula never tried to eat pizza. But there's a first time for everything." I lifted my glass of cider. "Here's to your first time celebrating Halloween, Sam." He grinned and gently tapped his glass against mine. As we ate dinner, the conversation flowed easily between us. It was as if we were sitting together at lunch, chatting away, and I felt the tension in my shoulders gradually disappear. The evening was going great, I assured myself. Sam looked like he was having fun. After we finished eating, Sam insisted on helping me wash the dishes. We stood side by side at the sink, with me washing and him drying. "Have you ever carved a pumpkin?" I asked. "Nope," he replied. "My parents were okay with pumpkins, but jack-o'-lanterns? That's another story." I nodded toward the pumpkin I'd placed in the corner of the kitchen. "Well, tonight you're in luck, because I picked out the perfect pumpkin for you to carve." Sam threw his head back and laughed. "Only if you help!" "Deal." As we took turns scooping out the slimy pumpkin innards, I gave Sam a sidelong glance. "You don't feel like you're doing something sinful right now, do you?" I asked. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable." "No, not at all," he answered. "I have no issue with religion, but my family is just... overzealous. My parents pretty much stopped talking to me when I told them I no longer wanted to attend church with them every Sunday." "I'm sorry," I said quietly. Sam shrugged, but I knew his family's estrangement bothered him. "I figure they'll come around eventually." Sitting at the table beside me, he carefully carved the pumpkin. "Do you get along with your mom okay? From the way you talk about her, it sounds like you two have a good relationship," he said. During one of our recent lunch conversations, I'd mentioned to Sam that my parents were divorced and I rarely saw my father. "Mom's great," I told him now, "but we're so different. She's confident and outgoing, and I'm... not." Sam looked at me and smiled. "You are when you get to know someone," he said. "I like that." I beamed at his words, then leaned back in my chair, regarding the pumpkin's new grinning face. "You did a great job! Looks like you're a pro at carving pumpkins." Jumping up from the table, I got a tea light candle to illuminate the jack-o'-lantern. Once it was lit, I turned off the kitchen light so we could admire Sam's work. As we stood side by side, he slipped his arm around me. I nestled against him, basking in his warmth while inhaling his familiar yet enticing scent. I was exquisitely aware of my body touching h
October 29 · length unknown
Lady Annabelle & Kate
Lady Annabelle & Kate Two stories from 3 centuries, about one English mansion. By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. An aristocrat has an exciting encounter with a highwayman It is the Year of Our Lord 1760, and the roads leading to and from London be the most perilous for any traveler. Hounslow Heath being a favorite haunt of the highwayman and footpad. Folly indeed, for the unwary to wander alone. And London be a very wicked place, so it hath been told, with whores, beggars and cutpurses on every street corner, The journey of Lady Emily Arundel and her daughter Annabelle had been an uneventful one so far. "And when we arrive at Mablethorpe Hall, be sure to show your appreciation to Lord Barrington-Smythe. His son, William, wishes to seek your hand in marriage," Lady Emily began. "Yes Mother," her daughter replied, with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. "His estate comprises over a hundred acres of land," "Well, hark at that!" "owns several horses related to Whistlejacket," Annabelle struggled to contain a sigh. "properties in the colonies," "How glorious, Mother." "knows a clutch of fashionable London society in beautiful silk suits and powdered wigs attended by almost equally well appointed valets! Whom are accompanied by gorgeous ladies in even more elaborate wigs and dresses in the latest Paris fashions," The corpulent gentleman sat opposite them in the coach was Lord Bracewell, an old and dear friend of Lady Emily. He grinned at Annabelle, sensing her discomfort. "Your Ladyship, it may please you to know, that we are but a mile from our journey's end." And thank heaven for that, Bracewell thought to himself, now feeling the great need of a chamber pot after drinking an excess of ale. He adjusted his periwig. "Erm, perhaps an opportunity at this gathering for a, f, er, you know, eh?" He gestured something and Lady Emily quickly tapped his leg with her foot. "Shush. Manners, Cuthbert! Later, perhaps," At that moment the coach lurched as it hit a particularly large pothole. This stretch of road was notoriously bad. Suddenly, the coach shuddered to an uncomfortable halt and the horses squealed. Other hooves could be heard alongside. "Stand and deliver!" "Oh dear God!" Lord Bracewell exclaimed, crossing himself. "I fear we are about to be robbed!" The masked stranger yelled at the coachman. "Throw down your weapons my bonny boy, or I'll spill your guts on the road!" There was the sound of muskets hitting the ground. Inside the coach, Lady Emily trembled and uttered a prayer. A robber might take more from a lady than her silver. Annabelle should've been as terrified as her mother, but her wildly-beating heart was more out of excitement. "Perhaps this man may be more merciful than we give him credit for?" "Hush, my dearest daughter. These bandits are without scruples! Pray to the Lord!" A bay-colored horse's head and then its rider appeared outside the window. The figure who leaned down to peer into the window appeared tall, wearing a cape, a three-cornered hat and a black handkerchief across his mouth. Dark brown eyes. "Well now, what fabulous treasure do I find?" The highwayman pointed a flintlock pistol inches from Annabelle's face. He leaned forward and with a move of his wrist he flicked back her hood with the muzzle of the pistol. "Ah. A true English Rose." "Sir, I beg of you, do not harm my daughter," Lady Emily intervened. "She is but eighteen, an innocent child, she has no silver!" "Her fortune awaits at Mablethorpe Hall no doubt. But it is she I am taking, not her money. Come." And he beckoned, the hand still held out to help Annabelle down. "Why, what foul swine would take a young lady's honor? I forbid you to lay one finger on her!" Lady Emily yelled. "Take me in her place." "No Mother, I shall do as he asks," Annabelle interrupted, taking his hand. "My child, no!" "It shall be alright Mother," Annabelle replied. "Your daughter knows her own mind, Madam," the highwayman said. "So now, I must ask you to keep thine own counsel. It would give me no pleasure to shoot your coachman and your gentleman companion." Lady Emily could do nothing but remain in the coach as the mysterious stranger led Annabelle away and into the trees at the side of the road. "Sir. If I may be so bold, may I request a merciful death?" The damsel inquired. This rather caught the highwayman off guard. This young lady intrigued him far more than the other wealthy folks he'd ambushed in the past. How the ladies had screamed like banshees and pleaded for their lives. The simpering, periwigged dandy who'd pissed his breeches when a gun was pointed at his head. Aristocrats. The damned preening lot of them! How he loathed these ruling peacocks. Oh, he hadn't always been a highwayman. Back in his old life he'd fought for king and country. Until good fortune and those he looked up to had betrayed him, He had planned to kidnap the girl and hold her to ransom. Lord Arundel's daughter would command a high price. "You are indeed bold. And, I have no wish to kill you. Your beauty and grace are extremely attractive to young men and it is bound to rouse their passions." Annabelle thought for a moment. "Since I am without silver or jewels, perhaps I could offer you a gift of a different kind? If I were to sufficiently please you, would you let my mother, Lord Bracewell, the coachman and myself go free? I'll do anything, to please you." He blinked. "Even the most unladylike of things? Do you realize what you are saying?" "Sir, I am shortly to be married. It would be most helpful if I were sufficiently skilled in how to pleasure my husband on our wedding night. I have no experience whatsoever in meddling with a man, perhaps if I could, practice somehow." Those less-than-polite urges that had been assaulting her body recently, had now found the perfect outlet. "Will you service my prick like a common whore?" "Yes sir," Annabelle replied, kneeling before him. "Let's see you try then." He kept his pistol in his right hand. "No teeth." Annabelle unbuttoned the highwayman's breeches slowly, her careful motions at odds with the look in her blue eyes and pulled out the large and swollen member. She couldn't help but stare at his impressive length, simultaneously afraid and eager. A man's weapon in all its hardened glory. A thing she'd previously glimpsed from afar, now in her hands. He expected her to hesitate, but to his surprise, she leant forward and ran her tongue up the shaft. With all haste, she opened her mouth, allowing him to move it inside. He began to thrust his cock inside her mouth, holding her head steady. Shocked at herself, Annabelle couldn't deny that as she heard him pant and moan, she felt somehow strangely empowered. She began to suck, working her tongue around his member. The highwayman cursed and blasphemed holding her head firmer as he began to thrust faster. Eventually, he grasped her blonde hair tightly as he groaned, pushing his entire length down her throat and shot his seed into her. She swallowed every drop of it, rather liking the taste. "Impressive," he panted. He'd enjoyed that a lot more than he was willing to admit, but wasn't done with this little rich girl just yet. "Have you had enough yet, Marchioness Whore?" Panting she replied, "I think not. Please." "Please?" He ran his hand under her dress and up her thigh. "Please what?" "Please sir." He fingered her tantalizing wet womanhood. "Louder, if you please." "Ah, Please sir!" He chuckled, and withdrew. She was ready to beg him, but before she could he had her up against a tree, hands tied then the rope wrapped hight around the thick trunk. With swift action he pulled up her skirting and down went her petticoat. Pulling her ass out to meet him, had entered her virgin cunt from behind, feeling the satisfying tightness of a deflowering. She winced and made a squeal similar to those a fox makes when mating. It hurt, but at the same time it felt so good. The highwayman withdrew until just his cockhead was still engaged, leaving Annabelle feeling a little disappointed. But then he pushed back in, all the way and in one go. His animal instinct had kicked in and he had one overriding desire; to plant his seed in this nubile young lady. He picked up speed, plunging deeply each time. Annabelle's own arousal was equally uncontrolled. She knew what was about to happen after her recent voyeurism of Lord Bracewell fucking her mother across a grand piano one afternoon. A more amusing rather an arousing spectacle that brought to mind an overfed pug mounting a chair leg. This time the explosion was even more powerful - and it was accompanied by the highwayman's roar as she felt him fill her passage with his issue. It seemed to go on forever and she felt it leaking out around his shaft and down her legs. "God," he gasped as he finally withdrew from Annabelle. He untied her and helped her stand. "Did I, please you sir?" Annabelle inquired in her refined & well-bred cadence. The highwayman finally removed his face covering. Annabelle was surprised to see a weathered but good-looking man, with cheeks bearing scars. Under his cape, she had glimpsed a torn and darkened coat, that had been, long ago a Redcoat officer's uniform. This man was no stranger to battle, and had a long history that he wasn't prepared to reveal. "You and the others have earned your freedom Your Ladyship." He said with a bow, removing his 3-point hat in the process. Her charms prevailing to ransom her entourage. His siring became her own treasure, preparing her for yet more charming accomplishment in the upcoming matrimonial bedchamber. A Night at Mablethorpe Hall Two millennials Ravished by the ghost of a Redcoat on Halloween. "Don't you just love a Halloween-themed tour and a meal at an English country house?" Kate said to her friend as the minibus they were in pulled into the grounds of Mablethorpe Hall. "Yeah, these old places have a real atmosphere!" Chloe replied. "I've wanted to do something like this for like, forever. Stay overnight in some old place, pretend I'm lady of the manor. I'm so glad I booked this trip." "Kate you are such a history nerd. Lucy Worsley has a rival." "My heart is in the 18th century. Seriously. I just love anything from that time." Kate had often been described as an atypical millennial. They got off the bus and collected their luggage. "Come on, the tour is about to start. Let's dump our luggage. Apparently this place is haunted." Kate smiled. "All good English manors should have at least one ghost! Three hours in a minibus. I'm stiff from sitting so long." They collected their room keys. The Hall had not yet upgraded to the modern electronic key cards. Kate liked that. A traditional brass key was more in keeping with the decor. The receptionist looked worried. "Are you ok with having Room 13?" she asked. "Sure. I'm not superstitious. Don't tell me it's haunted?" "Well, some guests have reported that really strange things happen in that room. And the wi-fi doesn't work in there." Kate just assumed the woman was joking. "In that case, it sounds like my kind of room! Think I can last a few hours without wi-fi." The room was large and splendid. "Seriously? I get a king-size four poster bed?" Kate exclaimed as she gazed in awe. "This is so fantastic! I feel like Queen Anne." The bed looked so inviting, Kate couldn't resist just flopping back on it and spreading out. "Bliss!" she sighed. So much better than the single bed back at her cramped one-bed flat. She closed her eyes, Abruptly, Kate was overcome by a bizarre horniness, and masturbated more than she'd done in a long time. She was getting so wet, so hot and in a rush to give herself the release she so desperately needed. She hitched up her dress and pushed her panties down just a bit, then shoved her right hand down to her cunt. She used her left hand to push up her nightshirt and play with her breasts, pinching her nipples hard, making her moan with pleasure. Kate's right hand was busy with her cunt, alternately slipping down between her cunt lips and inside her hot, wet core, fucking herself with fingers, then pulling out to rub her clit. Back and forth, over and over. She was moaning, fantasizing about being pounded, pounded by an unknown uniformed man. Begging him to fuck her harder and send her climaxing in ecstasy, Kate was screaming. Suddenly her orgasm peaked and hit full force. She stopped all movement with her hands momentarily then began again, at first very fast and hard, then slowing as her orgasm began to subside. She lay there as her breathing slowly returned to normal. "Jesus," she muttered, when she could finally catch her breath again. "What the hell just happened?" The tour had already begun when Kate arrived to join the others. "What took you so long?" Chloe asked. "Thought you'd got lost." "Oh I just, er, oh wow, check out that tour guide!" "Mablethorpe Hall, one of Berkshire's finest country estates back in the day," the tour guide began. He was dressed in early 18th century period costume, with a long wig, frilled cuffs and breeches. "He looks just like John Hurt did in Rob Roy. I love the costumes in that movie." Kate whispered to Chloe, who rolled her eyes. Kate listened intently as every detail of the building's history was described. "But the most fascinating story of Mablethorpe," the guide continued, "is that it's said to be haunted by Major Robert Wolfe, a British Army officer." The was a chorus of "oh!" from the assembled tourists. "The Major is said to return to Mablethorpe every Halloween night, in hope of seeing the woman he once loved." "So the poor sod just wants to get laid?" a middle-aged bloke at the front said, and everyone burst out laughing. The tour guide evidently took this old legend extremely seriously and did not see the funny side. "As I was saying, the Major was in love with Lady Annabelle Barrington-Smythe. That in itself was a scandal, for she was married to William Barrington-Smythe. Rumor has it that the Major was actually a notorious highwayman known as The Fox, " Later, the guests were treated to a Halloween-themed meal in the Hall's grand banqueting room. There were the usual things adorning the tables - Jack o' lanterns, candles everywhere, fake cobwebs. In the background, a string quartet dressed as witches played a medley of Bach and Handel. "Not as spooky as I was expecting," Chloe said as she sampled the pumpkin pie and spiced rum. "I was hoping the lights were going to go out and there'd be a jump-scare or something. Like two years ago when we went to that zombie-themed night at Castle Howard. That was creepy as hell!" "This is nice though. Lots of atmosphere. I like it here. I'd like to, get married in a place like this. Have a historical-themed wedding. That is, if, " "When, Kate. When you meet that ideal guy. And you will. He's out there. Plenty of fish. Steve was a complete areole, but he's ancient history. A bit like this hall." "True!" After the meal concluded, there was more live music and dancing. "Think I'm going to call it a night," Kate said. "Oh you lightweight," Chloe replied, already tipsy. "Aren't you going to stay up for the midnight ghost walk in the grounds? You might see a good-looking highwayman." "No, I'm totally exhausted. Really. You can tell me all about it in the morning." "Fine, whatever. I know you're too afraid!" Kate headed up to her room, surprised at being overcome by such tiredness. She hadn't drunk that much, and it had hardly been an energetic evening. The glorious king-size bed and it's luxurious blankets beckoned, Sometime after midnight, Kate was in a deep slumber, but also in the throes of a nightmare. He's coming, Kate did not dream often, and she was even less often plagued by bad dreams. Several times she stirred, came half awake, and heard herself gasping in panic. Once, drifting up from some threatening vision, she heard her own voice crying out wordlessly in terror, and she realized she was thrashing about in the bed. Suddenly the air was oppressively heavy, hot, thick; as if it were not air at all but a bitter and poisonous gas of some kind. She tried to breathe, couldn't. There was an invisible, crushing weight on her chest. The unmistakable smell of gunpowder. Hoofbeats, many horses. Some kind of battle? A murderous barrage of lightning crashed like a volley of mortar fire, seven or eight tremendous bolts; and woke her from sleep in an instant. "Holy shit." Kate gasped as the storm made her sit upright in bed. She remembered what Chloe had said earlier, about the tour not being scary. Evidently, nature had now delivered a jump, a scare of its own. Already her memory of the nightmare had begun to dissolve; only fragments of it remained with her, and each of those disassociated images was evaporating as if it were a splinter of ice. All she could remember was that she'd been in a battle of some kind, and there had been many men - soldiers on horseback. They'd been pursuing her. Firing guns. As the nightmare receded, Kate became uncomfortably aware of how dark the bedroom was. Before going to sleep she had switched off both the bedside lamps. The curtains were all closed, and only thin blades of moonlight were visible between the gap she'd left. She had the irrational but unshakable feeling that something had followed her up from the dream, there was another presence in the room, oh God! She fumbled for the lamp switch, damn, where was it? Groped around, switched it on. Relief as golden light flooded the room, And then she saw him. Stood at the side of the bed. He was dressed in a Redcoat uniform, just calmly standing there. She gasped, but was so shocked, she couldn't utter a sound for a moment. Then her initial shock turned to anger. Was this part of the Halloween tour? Having re-enactors actually enter the guest bedrooms was completely unacceptable. "What the hell are you doing?" Kate yelled. He seemed taken aback by her reaction. "Who are you?" She demanded once she had caught her breath again. "I beg your pardon, Miss," he began. He removed his hat as he moved closer. "Major Robert Wolfe of His Majesty's 58th Regiment of Foot." "What are you doing here?" He smiled politely. "Where I come from, when a gentleman introduces himself, a lady generally responds in kind." Kate was about to respond with a sarcastic remark, but then she noticed that he was surrounded by a faint, silver glow. Her heart began to pound like crazy. Gathering all her courage, she decided to ask him directly. "Are you, dead?" The Major's face relaxed into a smile. "Oh indeed. Quite, quite dead. As I have been since the last night of October, Seventeen Sixty-five." Kate thought she might faint. "You're a," "A spirit, why yes. An earthbound and restless one, forever drawn to return to Mablethorpe every All Hallow's night. Isn't that quite a tale? I most humbly apologies for subjecting you to my battle experiences earlier, but t'was the only way I was able to wake you." She looked him up and down. He did look a gentleman, to be sure, and a handsome one at that. The signature red coat, crossed with white belts, the brown hair tied back in a q
October 28 · length unknown
Jenna, the Vicar's Wife: Part 4
Jenna, the Vicar's Wife: Part 4 Her Mentula Cōleī Baptism A Series in 17 parts, By Blacksheep. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Christmas was fast approaching, and festive events were in full swing at St. Michael's Church. "Well not long to go until Jesus' birthday," Reverend Morris smiled as he and Jenna finished putting up their Christmas decorations. "Just two weeks. Which reminds me, there's another very special person's birthday a week before the festive season, " "Oh yes. I'd forgotten!" Jenna replied. "Jenna my love, it's your 21st! You can't forget something like that. I want it to be a truly memorable birthday for you. Is there anything in particular you'd really, really like? Please give it some thought. Turning 21 is a milestone." "I will Simon. But I pretty much have everything I've ever wanted already," she smiled, slipping her arms round him. Later, Jenna was engrossed in reading something on her smartphone. "Imagine that," she whispered to herself. Noticing her excitement, Reverend Morris became curious. "What's grabbed your attention, Jen?" " Mentula Cōleī Baptism," she blurted out, without thinking. Her husband looked confused. "Pardon?" "Oh! It's nothing. Just an old fertility rite of the Eastern Orthodox, in some Asian nations! The Japanese call it bukkake. The loose translation of Mentula Cōleī is cock & balls . And it follows the Anglican tradition of sprinkling. Er, would you like a cup of tea? "Sure." Later, when Jenna was having a shower, Reverend Morris picked up his phone. "Bukkake, she said. How does one spell that, then?" He typed into the browser. Boocaka? Bookaki? Bukacay? On the third attempt, the browser's autocorrect suggested the correct term. "Oh, so that's how it's spelt. He clicked on a Wikipedia link. "Good God!" He spluttered, as he read all about the act. When he'd finished, he chuckled to himself. "You learn something new every day. The Internet never disappoints, " At the Wednesday Eucharist, Gordon had just finished the recessional hymn. The midweek service always had a lower turnout than the Sunday service, but numbers had been steadily increasing all year. "Morning Gordon," Reverend Morris said, appearing at the side of the organ. "Oh hello vicar," the organist replied. "Quite full today. I don't know, the news says that Christianity is declining in this country but this church seems to be the exception." "It does, and that pleases me greatly. I can't speak for all churches in England, but knowing that our community here at St. Michael's is thriving, well it lifts my heart. I tend not to pay much attention to the news these days. Too depressing. Difficult times for so many. Strikes, cost of living and all that. Oh and England getting knocked out of the World Cup." "Mmm, yes," Gordon nodded. "Couldn't care less about football. I never watch it. Horse racing is my thing. How's Jenna and Christopher?" "Oh they're both fine, actually I need to discuss something important with you, Gordon. Jenna's 21st birthday is next week. I was wondering if you could help me with something?" "Certainly, vicar!" He replied, switching off the light above the organ's keyboards. "Happy to help in any way I can." "Okay, but not here. Come to my study right now, please." "Right you are," Gordon said. He didn't even have time to remove his robe and hang it up in the vestry. He was intrigued. The way the vicar was summoning him to the study sounded a bit ominous. He felt like a kid at school being summoned to the headmaster in order to receive a punishment. He meekly followed the vicar down the aisle. "Close the door if you please," Reverend Morris said, as he beckoned the organist into the study. Gordon did as he asked, and was surprised to find Josh the curate, Father Aiden, Bishop George and Norman Winstanley the new churchwarden all waiting. "Eh, what's all this, vicar?" Gordon exclaimed. "A lads-only party?" "Gentlemen," Reverend Morris began. "I've invited you here because you are trusted spiritual mentors; and trusted friends of mine. As servants of God, you all have your own important tasks to perform. Now what I am about to ask you, requires a great deal of trust. As good Christians, I wonder if you'll be able to fulfil this very unique anointing ceremony a parishioner has requested." Father Aiden crossed himself. "I am always ready to do the Lord's work." "Me too," Gordon said. "And if there's free beer included, well that's a bonus!" "Well this task concerns Jenna, my wife." The men in the study all fell silent. There was a great deal of shuffling feet and awkward coughs! One week later, "Where are we going, Simon?" Jenna asked, as he got into the car. She assumed they were going to a restaurant. "The church. Just a little birthday surprise." When they arrived, Reverend Morris requested that Jenna close her eyes. "Absolutely no peeking!" He said as he led her down the aisle. "This is so exciting!" Jenna said. "Let me guess, the whole congregation of St. Michael's are going to leap out and yell Happy Birthday, right?" "Close, but no cigar!" The vicar replied. "Now, just sit on this stool, " Father Aiden was driving down the high street, on his way to St. Michael's Church. His heart was pounding like crazy. "I can't believe I agreed to take part in this," he mumbled to himself. "Lord in heaven, why am I doing this? Haven't I sinned enough already?" He fiddled with the car radio. Most of the stations were planning Christmas songs 24/7 now. Chris's Rea's Driving Home for Christmas started playing. This was the third time today he'd heard this song. Passing a Tesco Express store, Father Aiden decided he needed some Dutch courage before he could partake in the special "celebration" at the church. A cheap bottle of whiskey or gin would suffice. Parking up, he hurried into the store and walked straight into a woman who was loaded up with shopping. "I'm so sorry!" He exclaimed, picking up the tube of gift wrap she'd dropped. "Aiden?" He froze and looked up. "R is n?" "My God! It is you! I can't believe it!" the red-haired woman gasped. "W-what are you doing in this neck of the woods?" Father Aiden said. "Did you leave Liverpool?" "Sure did. I've jumped ship. I'm at the Living Earth Free Church now and I'm loving every minute. I've become a vicar, well they call us leaders. It suits me just fine. What about you, are you still with the Catholic Church?" The priest looked awkwardly at her. "Erm, sort of. I've been fighting a conflict with myself these past couple of weeks." R is n smiled at him. "You think your future lies elsewhere?" He took a deep breath. "Maybe?" She put down her shopping bags and took his hand. "I've never stopped thinking about you, Aiden. I know you broke things off because you couldn't break your celibacy vows, " "Oh but that's the thing. I fled Liverpool and moved to this town, and the first thing I did was to break my celibacy vows, " R is n's face fell. "Oh, so you've met someone?" "Uh, No. It was just a, one-off. But it made me think that I'm just not cut out for a celibate life. And because of that, I can't continue in my current profession." "Well you're too attractive for that." A blush spread across the priest's face. "Would you like to go for a drink?" "Thought you'd never ask! Let me dump this stuff in the car and then I'm all yours!" "Sorry Jenna," Father Aiden said to himself as he slipped his arm around R is n and they strolled into the town center. "But I'm sure you'll have fun without me. Thanks for helping me see the light though." Jenna could hear muffled whisperings and several male voices. She wondered what was going to happen next. "Can I look yet?" "No not yet," Reverend Morris replied. "Just a sec, " The vicar ushered Gordon, Josh, Bishop George and Norman in front of the altar, where several candles has been lit. "Where's Father Aiden?" "Guess he chickened out?" Gordon muttered. "Maybe he's in a confession booth? Ha-ha!" "Oh well, fair enough. It was a lot to ask, Okay Jenna, you can open your eyes now!" Jenna opened her eyes, to see the organist, the curate, the Bishop, and the churchwarden all stood round her. Gordon was wearing his best suit and the black robe he wore when playing the organ, and Josh was wearing his cassock and surplice. "Oh my. Good evening, boys!" She said. "Are you all here to wish me Happy Birthday?" "We certainly are," Gordon grinned, rubbing his crotch. "We're here to give you the most memorable birthday ever, eh chaps? As it's a special one, and you're a very special lass, Jenna!" "Aww, you're all so sweet," Jenna replied, still not aware of what was about to happen. "I love being part of this church." "And you've brought so much happiness to it," Reverend Morris said. Now it's time for us to repay your kindness." He nodded at Gordon and the others. "Now don't keep my lovely wife waiting, she's eager to be baptized!" "Huh?" Jenna blinked. "Baptized?" Gordon volunteered to go first. He unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock. "Come on lads, don't be shy, eh?" Seconds later, Josh and Bishop George did the same. Norman hesitated a moment, but finally followed suit and unzipped. Jenna's mouth dropped in amazement as four delicious erect cocks were pointed right at her. She was too stunned to speak, and turned to Reverend Morris, who was standing back from the others, and also wearing church vestments. "This is our 21st birthday present to you," the vicar said. "A Mentula Cōleī Baptism." It s been part of early Assyrian Christian marriage ceremonies in Asia, to anoint a young bride s womb, before the couple consummates. The church elders would meet with the couple after the public ceremony vows, to anoint the virgin. "Oh, my, God" Jenna gasped. "Simon, how?" The reverend simply put his hands together, as though in prayer. "I asked God for help in getting you the perfect present. He knows everything, you see. I'm just sorry that Father Aiden decided to opt out, and unfortunately the Archbishop of Canterbury was unavailable as he's currently in Ukraine. John Wesley's ghost, well one cannot book a last-minute appointment with the dead, alas. But I hope those of us that are here will satisfy you?" Jenna licked her lips. "Hell yes!" She knelt down before them. "Oh Gordon, I see you've got an organ pipe that needs blowing," she said as she pulled down his trousers and briefs and squeezed his erection. "Let's see if you can hit the right notes." "I always hit the right notes," he chuckled. "Especially when you're playing my instrument, " "Umm. You're an organist who always entertains," she commented as she lowered her mouth over the end of his cock. Jenna sucked on the head, tasting him as she ran her tongue over the sensitive opening, while pumping the shaft with her hand. She took more and more of his hardness into her mouth until she felt him hit the back of her throat. She relaxed and pushed on until she had his whole member in her mouth and she was nuzzling his silvery pubic hair. He groaned as he grabbed the back of her head and thrust into her mouth. Reverend Morris watched in admiration and amazement as his wife expertly sucked the organist's cock. Gordon was quite well-endowed, but that was no challenge to Jenna. Seeing her pleasuring another man like this had got him as hard as a rock. He massaged his erection through his cassock and surplice. Could she cope with more than one man though? Josh was growing impatient, and his cock was desperate for attention. "Fancy trying some younger meat, Jenna? I think you've fully re-tuned the organist's organ." "Don't rush the lass," Gordon sighed. "Wait your turn, lad!" "I'm sure you can't wait to taste it," he said as he pushed his throbbing shaft in her face. Jenna didn't hesitate, she removed Gordon's cock and Josh pushed his erection deep into her mouth. He grabbed her head and she began sucking him hard. "Oh yeah! Praise the Lord! Oh I'm coming!" "So soon?" Gordon chuckled. You younger fellas have no endurance!" "Now now, enough of that," Jenna said. Play nice." She unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her pert breasts. "Mmm, give me some cum, Josh!" The sight of her tits pushed the curate over the edge and he erupted, glazing them with his hot seed. "So delicious! Thanks so much Josh. What an impressive load. No longer shy I see! Like I said, you'll make one hell of a vicar one day!" Jenna felt an intense tingling sensation of arousal and a moistening in her pussy. The crotch of her panties turned a darker shade of red as her nectar seeped out of her and soaked them. Reaching under her skirt, she began fingering herself. "We vicars produce more cum, right?" Reverend Morris chuckled, jacking off in the background. "Hell yes." "Organists produce a lot too," Gordon interrupted. "Oh fuck, now I'm coming, Jenna, .oh!" Jets of creamy white cum surged forth through the air from the tip of Gordon's thick "organ pipe." As the first of them struck Jenna's pale skin she could feel the warmth of the virile seed upon her face. More strands of spunk splashed across her cheeks. A jet catching her on the nose quickly dripped down across her lips and chin and filled her nostrils with its tangy odor. Jenna could feel the thick sticky goo mess her red hair. Jizz ran down her forehead in rivulets joining the cum on her nose and cheeks or getting stuck in a gooey mess in her eyelashes. By now her eyes were closing somewhat as she reached her own orgasm. Letting out a mewling moan she came to the plastering of her face with the organist's cum. "Cum cantibus in choro. Cum canticis et organo!" Jenna yelled. "I should know what that means, but I don't," Gordon panted. "It translates as "let the organ thunder, let voice and organ sing." Gordon was smug, knowing that it was his spunk that had made her climax. "Latin is full of cum isn't it? How marvelous!" "Wow Jenna, I'm impressed." Bishop George smiled, calmly presenting his cock to her. "You're an expert at playing the pipe organ. But now I have a bishop for you to bash." "Right Reverend, it is an honor to get my hands on your crosier again," Jenna said, pulling his trousers down. "Bloody hell, are you wearing ladies' knickers Bish?" Gordon interrupted, noticing the pink panties. "You kinky bugger." "High ranking clergy need to be comfortable under their cassocks!" Bishop George replied. "Ah, Oh my God!" Jenna gently took hold of his shaft with one dainty hand and began to stroke his length. At the same time her lips slipped down to his balls and she began to suck gently upon one of them. When she took the entire orb into her mouth the bishop groaned as he felt her tongue began to tease the tender flesh. He could scarcely believe that this was happening, that the parish vicar's wife was on her knees before him sucking his pastoral staff in the church! Jenna took care to alternate from one of the bishop's plums to another as she stroked up and down his length with one hand. Droplets of precum had begun to escape the tip of his cock and she could feel them dripping down onto her forehead. She began to lick a wavy trail along the underside of his shaft moving her tongue from side to side as she worked her way towards the tip of his prick. When she reached the base of his head she opened her mouth, her tongue still touching his cock-head, and gripping at the base of his shaft she worked her hand down along his length forcing the precum out and straight onto her tongue. "Wow," Reverend Morris said. "She's amazing. Taking the Bishop as well!" "Blessed, " Bishop George said, closing his eyes and putting his bony hands together. "Jenna, I anoint thee!" He may have been the oldest man of the group, but he produced a tremendous amount of cum. Jenna hurriedly cast off her sticky blouse, just in time to be baptized in Bishop George's holy jizz. she almost wasn't prepared for the huge volume of cum he released, and this was far from over! "Oh dear Lord, Reverend!" She moaned, as the copious dollop of man-juice coated her face, breasts and belly, just about everywhere, mixing with the cum already released by Josh and Gordon. It was so viscous and creamy, fuck! Jenna was in ecstasy! She'd never imagined bukkake would be as good as this, and in the church, well that just made it even better! The candlelight reflected off her glazed breasts. It was all so overwhelming and she came a second time. "Ready for some more, little vixen?" Norman the churchwarden said, offering his cock to her. "I'll tell you a Frank Carson joke. So, an Englishman, an Irishman, and a Scotsman walk into a bar. The barman looks at them and says: "Is this some kind of a joke?" Jenna giggled. "This cock of yours is no joke, Norman!" She grabbed it with both hands. "You've been good haven't you? Keeping your hands to yourself?" "I kept my promise. I'd like to get my hands on you though. I think you'd better slip out of that skirt. It's already spunked up. Any chance I could squeeze that arse of yours?" "I want you to cum all over my arse cheeks, Norman. Think you can manage that?" "Is the Pope a Catholic?" Norman replied. Jen
October 27 · length unknown
Jenna, the Vicar s Wife: Part 3
Jenna, the Vicar s Wife: Part 3 Fellatio Rites for the Ghost of John Wesley A Series in 17 parts, By Blacksheep. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Jenna took a deep breath as she approached Oakwood Road Methodist Church. "Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you?" Reverend Morris asked. She patted his shoulder. "I'll be fine Simon. You don't need to worry. It's the ghost of John Wesley, not Jack the Ripper. This is exciting! I hope he'll appear!" "Right, well, I'll be sat in the car then. I hope you won't be too long. Remember, just turn and run the moment you feel in any way uncomfortable." "Reverend Morris, I think you're scared!" "No I'm not! I can't help being concerned for the safety of the woman I love can I? Aren't you a tiny bit nervous?" "I'm as cool as spring water," Jenna replied. "I was reading all about John Wesley last night. He was a true gentleman. I'm sure this won't take long." Reverend Morris nodded as he watched his wife enter the church. "Well if anyone can fix this, Jenna can. I don't know what she said to the Archbishop of Canterbury last week, but he changed his mind about the wall plaque faster than the Government does U-turns. I wonder what she said to him? Whatever it was, Justin Welby was impressed!" He reclined in his car seat. "I was so lucky to meet Jenna. Of course, it was God who delivered her to me. That fateful Sunday morning in the vestry, oh." Father Aiden was walking along the street. Many things were on his mind. He had some important decisions to make about his future in the priesthood. Briefly glancing up from his smartphone, his heart jumped as he spotted Jenna entering the Methodist church across the road. "Holy Mother, " he muttered. A rush of excitement swept over him as he recalled the intimate encounter he'd enjoyed a few weeks ago. It was that which had spurred him to think about his future. He quickly crossed the road. "Hello Father!" The priest almost dropped his phone. Someone was shouting at him from a parked car. "Oh, Reverend Morris. Hello there." Damn, no chance of a repeat encounter, he thought. "I've just seen your wife going into the Methodist church." "Yes, I hope she won't be long. I'm just waiting for her." "Are you alright? You look a bit anxious, if you don't mind me saying." "It's a long story, Father. I think you'd better sit down in the passenger seat and I'll tell you. You've not heard about what's been going on in Oakwood Road church have you?" The priest looked confused. "Nope. Tell me more!" He opened the car door and sat down. I could do to unburden myself too." "Okay, well, this might sound a bit weird." "I can handle anything weird," Father Aiden replied. "It's about ghosts. As a Catholic, what are your thoughts on them and have you ever seen one?" Father Aiden thought about his answer very carefully. "Hmm. In theory, billions of ghosts potentially exist because billions of human beings have "lost" their bodies through death. Strictly speaking, these disembodied souls are not ghosts because they have never become discernible to any living people. Only those few souls whose presence is seen or felt by others are truly ghosts. And their existence is real." "So you've seen one?" "Yes. Two actually. Once in Ireland when I was a child and another when I was based in Liverpool. I was called upon to rid a family's home of a troubled spirit." Reverend Morris looked relieved. "That's good to know." "The Old Testament also has a few ghost stories. The most famous one is in 1 Samuel 28:8--20. Here the inspired writer tells how King Saul met with the ghost of the prophet Samuel." Father Aiden replied. "Have you seen a ghost?" "Yes. And not just any ghost, but the ghost of John Wesley! He's haunting the Methodist church. That's why I'm here. Jenna's gone in there to try and help him return to, the other side." "Oh I see, then she must, wait, what?" Father Aiden did a double take. "Thanks for coming' along Mrs. Morris," Reverend Ewing said, shaking Jenna's hand. "I know you probably think this whole thing is crazy." "Not at all! And call me Jenna. I'm a true believer. If my husband says that you and he saw John Wesley, then I know it's true. But why does John want to see me of all people?" "Your hubby mentioned that your grandma is a Methodist?" "Uh yeah. Bit of a tenuous link. Like Sir Henry Barrington-Smythe's horse." "Huh?" "Oh, never mind. Figure of speech." "You Brits and your little quirks!" Reverend Ewing laughed. "I'm still getting used to 'em!" "You said John usually appears in the vestry?" "Uh-huh. Can be anywhere in the church, but he seems to like the vestry best." "Right, well go and wait in there and say a few prayers, and see if he appears. I'm not sure I can do anything, but I'll try my best." Jenna entered the vestry. Everything looked perfectly normal in there. She closed the door and looked around. "It always comes back to the vestry," she smiled to herself as she recalled when she first got to know Reverend Morris. Suddenly, the row of gowns on the rail began to swing on their hangers. The temperature dropped, and Jenna rubbed her arms. "Are you there, John?" She called out. "Yes." She spun round. There was no sign of the spirit. "Hey, come on, show yourself at least. It's no fun talking to the invisible man." "My sincere apologies," John replied, and slowly faded into view. For the first time, Jenna was taken aback. "My God, you really are John Wesley, " He nodded and bowed. "Bless ye, for am so honored you hath come here. If I may be so bold to say, you be a lady of great beauty my dear." "Very kind of you to say, Mr. Wesley." Jenna said. "Why are you back in the land of the living? Aren't you happy in Heaven?" "Ah yes," he began. "Happier than mortals can ever imagine. But you see, I feel compelled to return to this realm every All Hallow's Eve. I like to re-visit the places where I worshipped back when I was alive. And it was in this very place where this church now stands that I preached to crowds back in the autumn of 1778." "You've got a lot of places to visit in just one night," Jenna said. "I read all about you. You travelled all over England spreading the Word of the Lord. Plus you went to America, the colonies, when you were younger." "Indeed I did, yes. To my regret, I lingered a little too long here, for I found myself unable to return to the afterlife. The sun had started to rise, heralding All Saint's Day. Thus, I am trapped here in this church until next All Hallow's Eve. Only a tremendous release of positive energy could allow me to return before then." "Oh dear. May I ask why out of all the people in the world, you wanted to see me? What can I do? My gran is a Methodist. Is that the reason?" "No Miss Jenna. It was your aura that attracted me. It's very strong. I believe God himself must've embodied you with some sort of innate goodness that allows you to help people." "You're making me sound like some kind of saint! I assure you I'm just a regular human being. I'm not particularly gifted in anything, although I do try to be a good person, " John had a rather dreamy expression on his face. "You remind me so much of Grace Murray, a lady I loved and lost, only you be far prettier than her." It was then that Jenna had an idea. A huge grin spread across her face. She'd read all about John Wesley's life and how unlucky he'd been in love. "A tremendous release of positive energy, you say? I think I know something which may cause that!" John put his hands together. "You do? Pray, do tell, my dear." "You need to experience an orgasm. What could be more positive than that?" He blinked. "I beg your pardon?" "Oh you know, " She tried to think of a period-appropriate phrase so he'd understand. "The end act of carnal relations?" He blushed. "Oh. Miss Jenna I be a man of God. I don't see how, " Jenna sank to her knees. "Only one way to find out, John!" She paused. So he's a ghost. I've never pleasured a ghost before. Isn't he composed of just gas? He's quite cute, for someone who died in 1791! I wonder if, She reached out to touch him, and expected her hand to pass right through his body, but it didn't. He jolted at her touch. "Don't worry John. I've done this before, many times in fact. It's a great honor to be able to do it to you. I'm sure this will help you." The moment of first contact had arrived. Jenna let one hand gently glide ever so slightly over John's thigh, encased in tight black breeches. Reaching out with the other hand, she ran it over his crotch, feeling an impressive bulge. "Oh my! I feel strangely warmed yet again!" John sighed. Jenna fumbled with the buttons on his breeches, being more used to zippers. Something large and splendid lurked within. Either that or he had a Bible stuffed down there. "My God!" she gasped, as the Methodist's member was revealed. The short, slightly-built John Wesley was hung like a horse! "How on earth were you so unlucky in love?" Jenna exclaimed. "Mostly the ladies deserted me long before I even reached the bedchamber," he mumbled. "Well I'm not deserting you." She wrapped her lips around his cock head and swirled her tongue for a bit before plunging all the way down his shaft. He emitted a deep and low groan. Jenna slowly bobbed her head along his shaft over and over, with her hands grabbing his thighs for support. He moaned in pleasure with each and every stroke of her soft and warm mouth. "Oh dear God," he whimpered. "Your mouth. It feels amazing." It was clear that poor John Wesley had never experienced a blowjob before, not in life, nor the afterlife, and Jenna instantly felt very generous to be giving him this incredible gift. His breathing was erratic, and she sensed that he had already reached a point of near-climax, and was doing everything he could to fight it off. Jenna's expert mouth slowly bobbed up and down his shaft. She then paused at the bottom and held his huge shaft completely inside her mouth, all the way to the back of her throat. She reached through his legs, grabbed his arse, and pulled him toward her in an attempt to get him even deeper into her throat. "Uh!" he moaned. "I'm not going to last much longer. I fear I shall spend!" Outside the vestry, Reverend Ewing paced back and forth, wondering what the strange groaning noises were all about. "The hell is going' on in there?" She said out loud. Jenna slowly slid her mouth back over his shaft and removed him from her mouth. She wore the naughtiest smile, and John could tell she was thoroughly enjoying this as much as he was. She took his cock into her mouth once more and slid her tongue back and forth along the underside of his shaft. He responded with another moan, louder and more urgent than before. She removed him once again from her mouth and looked toward him with a smile. the faint silver light surrounding John was more radiant than before. "Are you ready to spend?" She asked, looking up at him from her knees. John was so overwhelmed, he couldn't speak. He simply nodded his head and grunted. "Then I want you to come for me," she said. With that, she slid his wet cock back into her mouth. Once again she reached through his legs to grab his arse and pull him toward her, and she began to furiously fuck him with her mouth. He placed his hands on the back of her head and thrust himself into her mouth, over and over, filling the vestry with the wet sound of fellation. Jenna began moaning, and her muffled moans seemed to push John over the edge. With her mouth still filled with his cock, he stopped his thrusting and gave a loud groan. His body tensed and shook, and Jenna did everything she could to swallow his massive load, but it was too much. Some of his thick cum leaked from the corner of her mouth and splashed down the front of her pink top. "Ah!" John sighed, his eyes closed in ecstasy. Thoroughly satisfied, he cried out in joy. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" Pleased to have completely drained him, she removed his cock from her mouth. His cum was delicious. Ghost cum tasted just as good as that from a living man. All at once, a pillar of light surrounded John. "Ah! I'm free once more! You've freed me Jenna! I can't thank you enough! I can return and be at peace!" He began to rise up into the air. "I hope we shall meet again sometime! Farewell and God bless!" Jenna stood up and wiped her lips. "Godspeed, John! Oh! Just one more thing, next time you visit, can you bring your brother Charles along?" Reverend Ewing was about to knock on the vestry door, when it suddenly opened. "Oh! Is everything alright?" "Everything's fine. You can reopen your church. John's spirit is at peace once more." "For sure? He's really gone? But how?" "I just said a prayer for him. Told him how much his teaching continues to inspire people to this day. That seemed to satisfy him and he just faded away." "Well thank you so much, Jenna," the reverend said, shaking her hand. "I'm so glad it's all over. It was really stressing me out! and I'm so happy that John is at peace in the Lord's kingdom again. Oh, what's that on your clothing?" Jenna looked down and was mortified at the huge globs of cum. "Oh dear. It's, candle wax. I didn't realize it had spilled. I must get going now, Reverend Ewing. Simon is waiting in the car and he'll be getting worried." "Of course. Thank you again, and give my regards to Simon!" When she'd gone, Reverend Ewing looked round the vestry. "Hmm, strange. There are no candles in here." The lecherous church warden meets his match. After peace was restored to Oakwood Road Methodist Church, and the spirit of John Wesley successfully liberated, Jenna and Reverend Morris turned their attentions to this weekend's Remembrance Sunday service. This was always a major event, and the people would be crammed into St. Michael's like sardines. "I've finally completed this special sermon," Reverend Morris said, handing Jenna his iPad. "Have a read and tell me what you think. I included your suggestions about the importance of teaching the younger generation about those who died in wars. Also the bit about Winston Churchill being a flawed figure. Good suggestion, that. As human beings we are all flawed in some way." "It looks fantastic. Let me grab a coffee and settle down to enjoy this!" "I hope it won't come across as too boring. You know I always get paranoid about my sermons. So many churchgoers dread a long sermon!" "Your sermons are always fun and relevant, Simon, You're too hard on yourself." The mild-mannered vicar smiled. "Aww, thanks! Oh and I hope Norman Winstanley behaves himself this weekend. I had to have a quiet word with him during the Wednesday morning service." "The new churchwarden? What's he done wrong?" "Well, as you know, he took over from dear old Albert who died last month. He'd previously been at St. John's, but sadly, that church has closed for good and is being demolished. Such a shame. It was a great church back in the day." "Very sad when a church dies. What are they building in its place?" Jenna asked. "An Aldi supermarket. Anyways, about Norman. He's sixty-five and a terrible lecher, to put it plainly. Some say he's Sid James and Benny Hill cranked up to eleven. He didn't get nicknamed Carry On Norm for nothing." Jenna was immediately intrigued. How come I've never noticed this guy before? She thought. "Ooh. So he likes to ogle young women does he?" "Yes, but not just young! I've seen him staring at the legs of older women too. Last Sunday, I caught him perving at Mrs. Wilcox when she was doing the flower arranging. And she's about eighty! Though I admit, she does have nice legs, for someone er, so mature." "Naughty boy. At least he's not ageist." Jenna said. "He needs to get on OnlyFans." Reverend Morris couldn't help but laugh. "You always try to see the best in everyone! Well just looking is one thing, but Norman has built up a bit of a reputation for being a qualified pincher of bottoms. I won't tolerate that sort of behavior. It's completely unacceptable. I'm surprised he's avoided getting into more trouble, to be honest." "Is he married?" "No, widowed. Took early retirement too. Has far too much time on his hands. And we all know that the Devil makes work for idle hands, " "So true," Jenna nodded. "He makes bottoms for idle hands to pinch. "I don't think I've seen Norman. What does he look like?" "Well he wears glasses and he's the spitting image of Frank Carson." Jenna blinked. "Who?" "Heh, I keep forgetting the age gap between us. Frank was a Northern Irish comedian. He's dead now. My dad was and still is a massive fan of him. He used to go and see him on stage at Blackpool in the 1990s." Reverend Morris looked up a picture of the comedian on his phone and showed it to her. "Ok. I'll keep an eye out for Norman this Sunday!" "If he tries anything with you, tell me at once!" "Oh don't worry. He wouldn't dare," Jenna replied, smirking to herself, an idea already forming in her mind. Naughty Norman. I can't have a churchwarden with wandering hands threatening Simon's church. I'd better get my hands on him before he causes any more trouble! As expected, the Sunday service was very well-attended. Jenna had arrived early,
October 26 · length unknown
Jenna, the Vicar s Wife: Part 2
Jenna, the Vicar s Wife: Part 2 Dinner with the Archbishop of Canterbury A Series in 17 parts, By Blacksheep. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. On Monday afternoon, a letter arrived at the vicarage that took Reverend Morris by surprise. "I don't believe this!" He gasped, reading the letter out loud to Jenna. "It's from Bishop George. He says that Justin Welby, the Archbishop of Canterbury is planning to visit next week." "Whoa, " Jenna spluttered. "Yup. You and I have been invited to dine at Bishop George's place. Apparently the Archbishop is visiting several dioceses, and parish churches, and for some bizarre reason, humble little St. Michael's church has caught his eye! Bishop George states that I'll be receiving a letter from the Archbishop over the next few days, outlining the reason for his visit." "Wow, what a tremendous honor for you, Simon!" Jenna smiled, flinging her arms around him. "Well you're the best vicar ever, so he obviously wants to give you some sort of award!" "Hmm, maybe?" Reverend Morris re-read the letter. "This is totally unexpected, and a bit bizarre. I can't get my head round it." "I remember seeing Justin Welby give that speech when we were watching the Queen's funeral." Jenna said. "And to think, we're going to get to meet him! This is really exciting!" "I wish I shared your optimism my love, but I can't help but thinking that there's a catch." A few days later, Reverend Morris' fears were confirmed when a second letter arrived. "I don't believe this!" The vicar lamented as he read the Archbishop's letter. "It has come to the Archbishop's attention that there is a big plaque in St. Michael's church that commemorates a local man called Henry Barrington-Smythe, who died in 1695 and worshipped at the church. According to the covert research conducted by the Archbishop, Henry once owned a horse that he sold to someone whose second cousin twice removed, was involved in the slave trade." "I can see how that could be seen as quite triggering in this day and age," Jenna said. "But I'm sure the horse wasn't bothered." Reverend Morris slapped his forehead. "Oh this is a nightmare. The Archbishop recommends that the plaque is removed. It's not that simple though. It's actually carved into the wall, near the organ pipes. To remove it, would cause terrible damage to the wall! Our little church is so old, and we've worked so hard to fundraise to repair the roof." Jenna narrowed her eyes, seeing how distressed her husband was. This situation needed rectifying immediately. "Simon, try not to worry. When we dine at Bishop George's place, you will have the chance to put your point across to the Archbishop. Has he made this information about the plaque public?" "No," Reverend Morris replied. "To be honest, I know hardly anything about this Henry Barrington-Smythe chap. I Googled him once, and information was really scarce. Nothing on Wikipedia. A few obscure paragraphs on the parish register. He was vicar here during the 1670s and left a lot of money to the church in his will." Jenna smiled. "Oh good. So what we have here is a controlled situation." "For now. I expect he'll tweet all about it after the meeting." We'll see about that, Jenna thought to herself. The day of the meeting arrived. Reverend Morris anxiously fiddled with his clerical collar and kept checking his watch. Nearly time to set off to Bishop George's house. Presently, Jenna came breezing into the sitting room, where her husband stood, gazing out of the window at the front garden beyond. In a pale pink gown, pearl cross earrings, and her red hair swept back, she looked more suited to a red carpet event in Hollywood than a sober meal with the clergy. "Do I look alright?" She asked, knowing full well what Reverend Morris' response would be. "Oh my God, wow, you look absolutely beautiful as always, Jenna. Right well, we'd better get going." "Try not to worry, Simon." She said, kissing him. "It might not be as bad as it seems." He sighed. "St. Michael's church means so much to me. I treasure its heritage. You and I, we've both worked so hard to build up its congregation, raise money to restore the roof, the stained glass windows and to fix the dry rot in the vestry." "And we shall continue to treasure it. Don't you worry. Things might turn out alright. I'm sure an acceptable compromise can be reached." "I hope so." They headed to the car. A plan was forming in Jenna's mind. Justin Welby isn't the best-looking of men, she thought. Mind you, I don't plan on looking at his face, Bishop George was stood at the door of his home when Jenna and Reverend Morris arrived. "Great to see you both!" He smiled. "Can't say I'm happy at what the Big Boss is proposing here." "You and me both, George," Simon sighed. Jenna winked at the bishop. "Right, do go in, make yourself comfortable, there are refreshments waiting. Dinner shall be served at six. Bishop Finch was supposed to be here too, you remember him? Alas, he cried off. Dishonest and he drinks. Good bishops are so hard to find these days, eh?" Bishop George ushered him in. As Jenna walked past, he winked back at her. "I've got your red lace panties on tonight," he whispered. "A great choice!" Jenna whispered back. Reverend Morris sipped a sherry as he nervously awaited the Archbishop's arrival. Five minutes later, there was the sound of a car door being slammed shut, and Bishop George could be heard welcoming someone. "He's coming," Reverend Morris gulped. "Why do I feel like a little kid about to be sent to detention?" "God is with us," Jenna replied, patting his thigh. Bishop George entered the room. "It is a great pleasure to welcome our Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, to dine with us this evening. Jenna and her husband stood up. "Oh good, he's come alone," Jenna smiled, fearing that his wife might have accompanied him. He was clad in a grey jacket, with black shirt, black trousers, a clerical collar and a large cross round his neck. Everyone shook hands. "Ah, Reverend Morris," the Archbishop began. "The vicar of St. Michael's. Nice to meet you at last." "Thank you, Your Grace. And this is Jenna, my wife." Jenna was quick to offer her hand. "I've wanted to meet you for such a long time, Your Grace. You're sitting next to me at the table!" The vicar's young and stunning wife had certainly caused the Archbishop to raise an eyebrow. "Am I? Well lucky old me. I am very honored!" Privately, he was astonished that the mild-mannered vicar of St. Michael's had managed to pull such a gorgeous woman. He was normally immune to such things, but found himself rather shamefully gawping at Jenna's cleavage. "What a mercy she wasn't at the Queen's funeral," he said to himself. "If she'd been sat in the crowd, I'd have struggled to concentrate." The pre-dinner conversation between Reverend Morris, Bishop George and the Archbishop remained cordial, if not a bit overly formal. While the three men spoke, Jenna was a constant figure at the Archbishop's side; laughing at his unfunny jokes, pretending to enjoy his boring stories of ministry in Africa, inquiring about Westminster Abbey, and generally hanging on his every word like an infatuated student with her tutor. Bishop George suggested his guests seat themselves at the table in preparation for the first course. The Archbishop took his seat. On his right was Jenna, and Reverend Morris was opposite him. "Bishop George is such a good cook, Reverend Morris prattled nervously. "I've dined here before and his roast dinners are something to marvel at. I, I enjoy cooking too." Sensing her husband's discomfort, Jenna cut in. "He's a much better cook than I am. Most things I cook aren't suitable for human consumption." The Archbishop chuckled. "Let us say a prayer before we dine." The first course passed without incident, but Jenna was hungry for something else. The Archbishop had launched into a lengthy monologue about hurtful plaques and statues, and Jenna sensed it was time to act. Bishop George was in the kitchen and Reverend Morris excused himself as he needed to go to the bathroom. She was alone with the leader of the Church of England, the ceremonial head of the worldwide Anglican Communion. Now was the time for the vixen to catch her prey. "You've done so many impressive things during your tenure, Your Grace. Words cannot explain how much I admire you," she continued, flattering him off the scale." "Why thank you Jenna. "I appreciate your kind words!" Jenna continued. "Your Grace, I ask you as a good Christian, would you not consider dropping this little investigation into this pesky old plaque in my husband's church? Your letter has caused him a great deal of worry, you have no idea how much, " The Archbishop adjusted his glasses. "Jenna, I have no wish to cause any distress to your husband. I am simply trying to ensure that our C of E churches are inclusive to all, and devoid of harmful imagery." He had been quietly sipping his soup. Suddenly, a strange sensation made him almost drop his spoon. Something was moving up his right leg and pushing his legs apart, the mystery thing continued to rise higher, now it was nudging his inner thigh, he realized it was Jenna's hand. "Are you enjoying your soup?" "Um, Jenna, what are you doing?" "As I was saying, your letter has stressed my husband out so much, that he and I have been unable to make love all week. Can you imagine how upsetting that has been?" Jenna continued, furtively sliding her hand across his thigh and squeezing gently. The Archbishop glanced down and then at her. "Um, well I'm very sorry to hear that." She smiled back and began rubbing his inner thigh very gently. He cleared his throat and blushed. She said nothing, but continued gently rubbing, and moving closer to that treasure she wanted to touch most of all. "Do you realize what you're doing? I am a married man!" He whispered. "I do, but you pride yourself on having a liberal outlook, yes? Anyways, there is a holy place I would very much like to explore, if I may be permitted to do so, if I may be so bold as to request permission from Your Grace, " "You are, a rather naughty vicar's wife," he whispered back, feeling his cheeks flushing. "You haven't granted permission, Your Grace." The Archbishop took a deep breath. Why was he giving in to temptation so easily? If he refused, would she kick up a fuss? Bishop George and the vicar could return at any moment. "Mrs. Morris, you may do as you wish. I am yours to explore, " This was all the permission she required. Before the Archbishop could complete his sentence, Jenna reached across the startled man's lap and quickly unzipped his trousers. He could not believe the dexterity and speed at which his beautiful assailant nimbly accomplished the task. He shot an astonished wide-eyed glance at the temptress seated next to him. Guessing his thoughts, Jenna flashed a mischievous smile and said, "Your Grace. I heard that there's a name for a bishop's staff. It's called a crosier. Am I right?" "Er, yes. That's right." Jenna swiftly freed the Archbishop's staff from his white boxer shorts. He may not have been the most handsome of men, but he had a gorgeous cock. It wasn't a monstrous length like Father Aiden's or thick like Gordon's, but it was impressive all the same. Definitely holy! The Archbishop's back stiffened and he caught his breath as he felt Jenna's soft, warm fingers wrap around his engorged fuck pole. The touch from this ravishing young beauty in the most sensual of spots sent chills throughout his body. He suppressed a gentle moan in the back of this throat as Jenna began to slowly run her hand up and down the shaft. She knew to vary the speed of her up and down motion, and could sense when the Archbishop was reaching peak ecstasy. Before he could achieve sexual release, Jenna slowed her pace or altered the movement in order to delay gratification. She wanted the Most Reverend's pleasure to extend for as long as possible. Jenna explored every feature along the length of her newest conquest's fleshy sceptre. Her delicate fingers rippled over the veiny surface, massaged the soft foreskin, and gently squeezed the head. When she reached the shaft's base, the eager filly worked her slender digits along the Archbishop's inner thigh and cupped his balls, juggling them with her fingertips. "Your Grace, I beg of you. I want to go further and worship properly. However I cannot do this unless you agree to scrap your suggestion that St. Michael's remove its plaque to Henry Barrington-Smythe. Let him and his horse rest in peace, yes? Neither of them kept slaves. I'm sure Henry sold his horse in good faith and had no idea what links the buyer had. A few years ago I gave my old smartphone to a woman at work who turned out to be a massive fan of Cliff Richard. Some might say that was a crime against humanity." The Archbishop was desperate to come. Sweat had broken out on his forehead and his glasses were steaming up. "Okay, you have my word," he sighed. "I'll scrap the whole thing!" "Thankyou, .dear Justin!" She said, using his Christian name for the first time. Carefully, Jenna removed one of her earrings. The Archbishop had to stifle a gasp as she slid out of her chair and under the table. "God," he murmured, almost incredulous at her conviction and boldness. Then with almost no hesitation, she dropped her head and closed her mouth around his throbbing shaft. The Most Reverend's breathing started to become more rapid and shallow, an indication Jenna recognized as signaling her oral exertions would soon be ending. Wanting to provide the head of the church with the greatest amount of pleasure possible, Jenna's grand finale was to deep throat his cock and vigorously jerk up and down on it. This motion had the desired effect within moments, as a muffled groan escaped the Archbishop's mouth. Jenna felt the holy rod in her mouth recoil as it shot a mighty stream of pearl-colored ejaculate down her throat. This first round was quickly followed by a second and then a third as the Most Reverend's balls unloaded their thick, milky contents. Jenna swallowed and savored every drop. It is a truth not universally acknowledged, that the taste of a man, especially a man of God, is the finest taste in the world, she thought. A final spurt missed its target and splashed down her cleavage. Only after the last discharge was launched and the Archbishop leaned back in his chair exhausted and sweaty, did Jenna finally withdraw. The Archbishop jolted in panic as Bishop George and Reverend Morris returned to the dining room. He quickly poured himself a glass of water and swallowed it. He wondered how to warn Jenna, but she'd already sensed it was time to return to her seat. "I'm sorry I was so long," Reverend Morris mumbled. "Call of nature and all that." "And silly me, I forgot to turn the oven up, but worry not, the roast beef is nearly ready!" Bishop George replied. "Understood," panted the Archbishop, wiping his glasses. Bishop George tilted his head at his Jenna's empty chair, and the movement under the table. He raised the tablecloth. "Oh I say, Jenna. Have you lost something?" "Just my pearl earring," she calmly replied. "But fortunately, I have now found it." Bishop George nodded and gave a wry smile. "So I see. And you seem to have gained a pearl necklace too!" A Ghost Appears at the Methodist Church "What are your thoughts on ghosts, Jen?" Reverend Morris said as he climbed into bed. Jenna reclined next to her husband, and ran a finger through his chest hair. "Hmm, never given them much thought. I keep an open mind. I've never seen one myself, but I'd like to! I wouldn't be scared. Just really fascinated." "I might get to see one tomorrow. I've just had a rather desperate email from Reverend Marsha Ewing over at the Oakwood Road Methodist Church. She's at her wits end. Says her church has been haunted by a persistent ghost ever since Halloween. She's tried walking around splashing holy water on the walls, saying a prayer of deliverance, but to no avail. The church has had to remain closed all week." "Whoa, that ghost must really like the Methodist church then!" Jenna said. "I haven't been in there since I was a little girl. My gran is a Methodist. I remember going to a few services. I remember it being light and airy inside, with the white balcony and pale yellow walls." "Well it's not just any old ghost that's taken up residence there. Reverend Ewing is adamant says that it's the ghost of John Wesley." "What, the John Wesley? The founder of Methodism?" Jenna blinked. "Yes. That's the bit I find really hard to believe. Not saying that Reverend Ewing is lying of course. I just can't understand why John Wesley of all people, would choose to return to this earthly realm. I mean, he was a true servant of God, a good man, who preached to the masses and led a long, pious life. Why would his soul suddenly become restless and earthbound?" Jenna was fascinated. "Maybe he didn't choose to return. Maybe someone or something lured him back, and he's got trapped somehow? Don't they say on All Hallow's Eve, the barrier between the dead and the living is broken and the dead can pop back for a visit? Or something?" "Good theory!" Reverend Morris replied. "Wesley did visit the site where the Oakwood church now stands. The church wasn't built until Victorian times, but he preached out in the open in the 1770s. The very spot where he stood is marked by a bronze statue of him. Anyways, Reverend Morris has decided to ask other members of the clergy for help. She's asked me to go along to the church tomorrow. Hopefully two vicars are better than one, and we can help John to return to the other side, so to speak." "Shouldn't Father Aiden be called along too? Like in the Exorcist?" Reverend Morris laughed. "I once watched that movie with some mates at university. I really regret eating at the time, it put me off soup for weeks. Bit different though. That was movie about demonic possession, not a haunting." Jen

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