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Hi All - repost of story part 1


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Hey all. Thanks so much for the kind words. Makes me miss being online.

A month or two ago - just when I was getting online - I was dared by some people to write a porn story. So I did. But it got so out of hand that I had to stop half-way thru and call it part 1. And I never got around to doing part 2 yet - to buzy. But I feel the need to write something so maybe I will finish it soon - no promises. But just to give those who missed it a taste I'll post it again smile.gif And maybe if it goes over well people will bug me enough that I will write part 2 or tell me its so shit that I won't ever have to think about writing it. Good either way.

BTW don't expect much. This is the only story I have ever written since High School English class. And part 2, if I ever write it, will probably be the last. But you gotta try everything once.

Oh yeah - I am more familiar with English grammmar than the story lets on. I am just trying my own kind of poetic grammar for effect. Let me know if it works.

Here goes:

A Night to Remember

Part 1

It's one of those cold, dark, and draining January evenings. The snowfall is heavy – almost as heavy as your eyelids. With grim determination you keep your eyes peeled to the road as you thread your way through the traffic to my apartment. Its Friday and you promised me that we could have the whole evening together – but right now all you want to do is go home, have a bath and curl up in front of the TV. It has been such a long day – such a long week. You had no idea that the universe could crowd that many assholes into 13,000 square feet of office space. Your shoulders still ache. Your back is still stiff from the week’s stress. It took everything you had to restrain yourself from choking those morons in Marketing. How did you ever survive – better yet, how did they ever survive - five straight days of meetings and workshops together?

As you pass each and every exit off of the highway you are tempted. Turn around! go home! – it’s not too late for that evening of solitary recuperation. You’d love to see me – it’s been weeks. But you just don’t have the energy to deal with anything or anyone today. Still, you’ve cancelled on me the last two times – it has been crazy all month long. And we have only been seeing each other for a few months in total – not nearly long enough to begin taking each other that much for granted. You press on.

You spot the turn off through the frosted windows and the tantalizingly slow back-and-forth, back–and-forth action of the wipers. As if in a dream you find yourself dutifully taking the exit. Two more blocks after that and you find the street sign that you are looking for. You wouldn’t even have been able to make it out if it wasn’t for the hazy glow of the streetlights reflecting off of the endless streams of fluffy, falling snow. My apartment is not far and it's not very long before you have parked your car and are safely ensconced in the elevator. As it slowly makes its way to the penthouse level you make a secret prayer that I don’t have anything big planned. With stoic resignation you cross the threshold as the elevator doors open. Ten steps, turn, ten more, stop – ring the buzzer. You’re here.

The door opens and you are greeted by a warm smile as I quickly take your bags and your coat from you. As you stand in my hallway all that you can feel are the aching pangs from your overworked feet and crowded toes. How long have you been on your feet today? This week? You start to regret your decision to be the dutiful girlfriend. As I turn my back to hang the coats you stare wistfully at the door and wonder if you can still make a break for it.

Your reverie is broken by the sound of my voice and the touch of my hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay? You seem tired. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want – we can always get together on another night”. You smile as part of you almost considers the offer. But no – you’re here now and you might as well pay your dues and get this over with. Just please God, nothing big or involved this evening – is that so much to ask? You put on your best game face, give me a big hug and say “no silly! I’m here because I can’t wait to go out with you again – it’s been weeks. Just pour me a drink and give me a few moments to unwind. I’ll be fine”. What a lie! As I let you into the living room you feel your heart sink into your stomach as I reply “That’s great babe because I’ve got something really special planned for you this evening – something really big!”. You stare at my goofy grin and wonder if Lucifer himself greets his new house guests with the same smile.

“So…what are these ‘Big’ Plans then?" you manage with a wan look.

“No more questions – tonight I’m in charge. You just do as I say” comes the reply.

“Is that right? And just who, pray tell, put you in command?” you inquire somewhat ruefully.

“Who put up with the four hour cocktail party from hell with your boss and his annoying wife? Who skipped a free night out at the hockey game to help you get that proposal in on time when the printer screwed everything up? Who has graciously accepted your two last-minute cancellations with the patience of a saint?”

“Okay, okay!” you concede. “I don’t have the energy to argue with you. I don’t even care. Just get me that drink and do what you will with me.”

“I have every intention of doing so” I reply with a quick, devious smirk. “Now, no more questions. I want you to go into the bathroom down the hall. Go to the washroom if you have to then take all your make-up and jewelry off, let down your hair, and put on what is hanging behind the door. When you come out you can have that drink.”

Suddenly confused, and perhaps a bit annoyed, you blurt out “what the hell are you talking about? I thought we were going out?”

“No more questions!” you bark out. “You promised me this. You owe me this. Now go in there and do as I say. And no more questions for the rest of the evening, okay?”

“Fine!” you respond in a sullen tone as you put on your best pout and head for the bathroom feeling somewhat peeved. “This evening is getting more and more complicated – exactly what I didn’t want to happen” you think to yourself as you make it to the door and open it. Nonetheless, you are surprised to find yourself more than a little intrigued.

Inside the half-bathroom you attend to the business of complying with my demands. When you are done your hair is down, your shoes are off and you have slipped into the beautiful floor length, red silk dressing gown hanging behind the door. Despite how tired you feel you still find yourself thrilled by the way it feels as the smooth silk slides across your smooth skin. You walk out the door towards the living room and are awakened from your thoughts with a sudden jolt as you run headlong into me. I’m standing there, silently blocking the hall. “I thought I was going back to the living room? What are you doing?” you demand.

“Silence!” comes the command as I pull something that looks like a black ribbon from my pocket – my dressing gown pocket! Only then do you realize that I too am wearing a floor-length silk bath robe - a black one. Looking at my hand your mind finally grasps that what I am holding is a blindfold – a fucking blindfold!

“What the fuck is that? What the fuck is going on here?” comes flying out of your mouth before you even realize that you’ve said it.

I stare right into your eyes with not so much as a blink. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you but this is….”

“Then trust me,” I growl, interrupting you. “Now, I’m going to put this on and you and are going to do exactly what I say. And I don’t want to hear another damn word out of you unless I give you permission. If you can’t live with this then you can walk out at any time. Just say the word. But once you say it you’re gone – the night’s over. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” is your simple reply. At this point you decide that resistance really is futile. Besides, at least it looks like you’re not going out. And you are suddenly very curious. Finally, there’s the matter of a familiar heat that is beginning to creep up from between your thighs despite being so exhausted.

I walk over to you and begin to wrap the blindfold around your head. As I slowly tie it around the back of your head you can feel the warmth from me as I stand so close to you. You can feel my breath as it hits the back of your neck. Drawn to it you lean back a little – trying to get closer. But I anticipate and keep my distance. I finish the job and grab your hand. I lead you down the hall through the doors that you know lead to my bedroom. Inside the first thing that you notice is the heat. Its warm in here – not uncomfortably warm. No not uncomfortable at all. But warmer than usual. This is good because just as you feel my hand leave yours you suddenly feel both of them at your waste loosening the tie of your bathrobe. As I slowly strip the silk robe off your bare body you are pleased to find that the temperature is perfect – you do not feel a single chill as your naked body is exposed.

Now you think you have an idea of what’s going on as you pick out the crackling of the fireplace at the end of the bed. Kinky! You are not exactly in the mood but this is still better than going out you decide to yourself. Besides, all that you have to do is put in a few rounds and then you can sleep. Not bad. Not bad at all. You start to make your way towards where you know the bed must be.

Thwap!!! You are startled by the small shock of pain that you feel on your ass. You can’t believe it – “he spanked you!! He fucking spanked you!!!” you scream to yourself. You open your mouth to protest but before you can you feel my hand there, holding your lips together. “I did not tell you to walk over there – neither did I tell you to speak,” I say calmly but sternly as I remove my hands from your lips. “Keep silent. Do as I say. And do not do anything that I don’t say” I continue.

“Disobedience will be punished. You are of course free to leave at anytime. But if you wish to continue then do not say anything – simply take my hand as I offer it to you and follow me,” I say as I grab hold of your hand and begin leading you away from the bed.

Although you are not sure that you like the idea of me smacking your butt you are also becoming more and more intrigued. Not going to bed? What then? And of course there is the matter of your growing arousal – an arousal strangely intensified, not diminished, by the aching sting on your left ass cheek. You follow me across the room, your desire mounting as lecherous thoughts begin to dance through your head. You are, after all, not made of stone. But suddenly this entire make-shift tapestry of your erotic imagination is ripped asunder as the ache in your back, the soreness in your calves, and the constant irritation of your tension headache fade back into your consciousness. It would be fun, but the thought of all the moving around, the bending, the twisting, the energy and movement required, makes you remember why you were originally hoping for sleep.

You stop. You hear the sound of me opening what must be the bathroom door, then the feeling of warm tile beneath your feet as I push you into the bathroom, finally the slam as I shut the door behind us closing us off from the bedroom and its secrets.

The first thing that you are accosted by is the smell. You can make out cinnamon, vanilla and several other scents – maybe even roses. And the warmth – its even warmer – no, not warmer – damper in here. As you stand there, blind and naked in the middle of the bathroom, you are struck by the realization that things have become very strange very quickly. We only met three months ago. And it was a long courtship as we were both busy. I waited a long time before I even kissed you. We waited even longer than that to make love. Actually, I waited so long that eventually it was you who was forced to take the initiative. And it was marvellous. Intense and passionate. It was the kind of love making written about in novels. We had only been together three more times after that. Each was just like the first, marvellous, earth-shattering but also the same. Each time the same. But this, this was different.

You are abruptly interrupted from your thoughts by the sharp hissing sound of a match being lit. Then silence. Finally, you feel my hands on your shoulders and the warm, comforting presence of my naked body as I glide in behind you. Close. Near. Warm. I run my hands down your nakedness from your shoulders to your ass where I give you a couple of little smacks – gentle ones this time. Then I take both of your hands and lead you forward. Up the little steps that you know lead to the huge bathtub. As you climb the two steps the scents grow stronger. Then I guide your leg over the lip of the tub and in.

The feeling of warmth overwhelms you as I slowly slide your foot and leg into the tub. The temperature is also perfect – not hot enough to scald but warm enough to sooth, heal, restore. You find yourself wondering if this is how a penis feels as it slides into you. No more time for such thoughts as I guide your other leg in and then your whole body down, down into the tub. In the blackness all of your senses are focused on the penetrating warmth of the water as it envelops you, grabs hold of you. You feel as if you are being torn from one world into another – from a world of coldness and aches and pains and petty, annoying people to a place of nothingness, of peace, and warmth, and absolute surrender. By the time you are completely immersed the transition is complete. Gone are the cares, the pains, the worries of the real world. You are in your own world of oblivion and nothingness…such sweet, sweet nothingness.

But not alone. For a guide has brought you there. A guide whose hands you now feel at your head slowly massaging your temples. A moan escapes your lips and you are frightened that you will be reprimanded for this breech of the silence. But the massaging continues and you decide that maybe words are out but moans, groans, and sighs are okay. You note that this is a good thing because if you are going to stay in this tub much longer this will surely not be the only inaudible outburst. It just feels so damn good in here. Unexpectedly the hands at your head are withdrawn. Then you feel them behind your head, removing the blindfold. You feel a quick kiss on your cheek and then suddenly, shockingly, light!

You open your eyes to a bathroom ablaze with the soft glow of candles. So many candles. Candles everywhere you look. On the counter, on the toilet, on the sides of the bathtub, in the shower stall and in the window sills. You marvel at the reflection of the soft orange light against the frosty panes. Outside you can make out that the snow is coming down even more strongly than ever. It must be so horrible to be outside or, even worse, on the roads. But the contrast between the dark, frozen terror just outside the windows and this cozy, warm world in here is as stark as it is intoxicating.

As you stare down at the water you are astounded to see not only the glistening sheen of the oils that are right now penetrating and healing your skin, but also petals. Rose petals! Hundreds, no thousands! The entire surface of the water is covered in a thick layer of soft, red rose petals. How could you not have noticed before? You look for me but I am not to be seen. Your search is interrupted by the shock of warm water spilling all over your head. I have grabbed the portable shower head and am using it to pour warm water all over you from my kneeling position behind your head. Then the water stops and all that you can feel is my hands in your hair and the tell-tale smell of the shampoo. I work my hands over your scalp. It seems like it takes forever for me to lather your hair. And you are thankful for it. And then more rinsing. And then the conditioner. And once again those hands and fingers flowing through your long, wet hair. As I lightly and then firmly massage your head time slips away. You close your eyes and nothing but a long stream of sighs escapes your lips. When I am done your entire body is limp and your headache is a distant, distant memory.

And finally, last but not least, you turn to see me. Kneeling on the steps beside the bath, naked and holding a golden, shimmering, sparkling glass of what must be Olympian Nectar.

The dream spell is broken by the soft slice of my words: “Champagne for my lady,” I say as I hand you the drink that I had promised long ago. You take it and watch my naked body slowly rise and step into the tub with you. Lean and sleek you watch as it slowly disappears into the red layer of petals. I too am holding a glass of champagne. I reach out and touch our glasses together in a toast “to pleasure”. How can you disagree, “to pleasure” you reply quickly.

We sit there sipping our champagne and staring at each other. The electric silence is broken by the sudden, soft whirring of motors as jets of water explode from the sides of the tub. The sensations of the jets consume you as they powerfully push penetrating streams of water that caress our naked bodies. You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. There is no way to describe how good the warm, wet pressure of the jets feel as they knead the tension out of you; as they unwind the knots and heal the aches. You drift in Nirvana with your eyes closed for what seems like an eternity. You don’t even hear me as I light the joint with the matches from the counter. But the sweet, pungent scent tickles your nostrils and alerts you to a most welcome presence. I take my time with the joint, slowly drawing on it. After a few minutes its over a third done and I reach over and hand it to you. As you take it to your lips I grab your right foot and begin slowly kneading and working the soles with my hands. You almost drop the joint as a sudden gasp escapes you.

“In here you can speak – there are no rules. When we leave the rules return. Now, tell me about your day…” I whisper to you as your head sinks back against the side of the tub. We spend the next 20 minutes drinking, laughing, talking and smoking. All-the-while I massage every ache that your feet have ever had out of them. For a while all reality is put aside and there is only our little liquid world covered in red petals.

The world ends with a word. “Stand!” I order. You stand. I grab a sponge from behind me, sink it into the water, and wring it out as I also stand. I move beside you grabbing a hand and stretching out your arm. I run the warm, soapy sponge from the top of your fingers, slowly up your arm and onto your shoulders. Then it makes the return voyage back underneath the arm. I repeat this with the other arm. And then slowly I work the sponge over your back. And then, without warning the sponge is on your breast. But it does not linger – much. I wash the breasts, both of them, no differently than any other body part. The same with your ass. And yet somehow it is all the more arousing that way. You notice your nipples beginning to swell as I am slowly working the sponge up and down between your ass cheeks. You lean back into me and reach back to put your arms around my waist. But once again I am too quick and all you grasp is air. “Not now. You have to trust me. This is your last warning,” I whisper as I slither around you to kneel at your feet.

From that position I grab your right foot and put it on the ledge of the tub. I dunk the sponge in the tub again and reach up and wring it out over the top of your thighs. I watch as the water slowly cascades down your long, well-formed legs. When I follow the water with the sponge – but starting at the foot and working my way up slowly – you have trouble standing. You let out a snake-like hiss of anticipation and hold onto me for support. “Relax. There is a time for everything. Just relax.” I say as I run the sponge over one leg and then the other, careful not to come anywhere near the furnace that is beginning to blaze between them. When I am done and there is nothing left but the slowly parting flower between your legs you stare at me in anticipation. I move the sponge over to your left inner thigh and touch it. You quiver. Then the right. Another quiver. And then …I let it drop into the tub and stand up. I walk over to the towels, pick one up and begin to towel myself off. When I’m finished I slip back into my robe. You stare at me incredulously all the while but don’t dare say anything.

I finally break the silence by snapping “Well…what are you waiting for. Finish up and then step over here. And just do the job – no lingering. Tonight you cum only when and if I say you can cum!” You quickly finish washing and step over to the centre of the bathroom. While you miss the warmth of the water the room is more than warm enough that even wet and dripping you feel not the slightest chill. As you stand in the centre of the room I take a towel and rub the water from your hair. Then I comb it straight. Quickly and roughly - making you wince as I pull the knots out of it. Finally, I pull out a fresh blindfold from my robe. I cut off your thoughts of protest with a quick slap to your still wet backside as I notice you beginning to open your lips. You let me replace the blindfold without further interruption.

I take your hand and walk you a few paces to the counter. What you can’t see is me pulling out two hairdryers from underneath the counter. But you certainly hear it and you jump back, startled, as I fire them both up. Smack!!! I slap your ass again yelling “don’t move!” over the whir of the dryers. Any thought of insurrection is completely vanquished by the exquisite feeling as two hairdryers, set to exactly the right speed and heat, begin to dance over your body. Quickly they begin to dry off the droplets of water that are glimmering in the candlelight all over the curves of your beautiful, bare body. Up and down, over and around, the dryers whiz in a dance that you cannot see but certainly can feel. The sensation is unreal as the warm air glides over you, the sensations amplified by the warm buzz of the champagne and the joint. You are so high and feel so good. I lift your arms and work the dryers under them and then over your breasts, lingering here and there, for a second or too – but never predicable. In the midst of the maelstrom you notice for the first time that it was really, really good weed and that you are very, very high. Your head is rushing and you are, for the first time all day, unbelievably horny. As a wetness grows between your legs that a hundred hairdryers couldn’t dry you feel that your nipples are as hard as rocks . As you arousal reaches a feverish pitch under the thousand teasing hands of the hairdryers the whirring sound of the motors abruptly cuts off. You hear the sound of the dryers being returned to the counter and then the soft feeling of silk being draped on skin encompasses you. Disappointed, and still wanting, you can do nothing as I lead you from the bathroom, blind, back into the bedroom.

Slowly I walk you over to the bed. As you enter the bedroom you can hear the sound of soft, relaxing music playing in the background. It seems to be coming from everywhere. You didn’t know that I had that good a stereo system in here. (In fact, until the day before, I hadn’t). At the threshold I reach over and untie your gown. You hear the Swoosh as it falls to the ground. This is followed swiftly by the sound of mine falling off as well. I place you face down onto the bed. Once again you smell roses. And you are startled by the indescribable feeling of your body sinking into a thick, soft, sumptuous carpet of petals. More rose petals!! You scrunch them up in your hands relishing their soft, spongy texture. The feeling of them all over your body as you squirm around in your second bath of petals sends a chill all through you despite the fact that the air is so warm. Somewhere in the back of your mind you catch the crackling sound of the roaring fire at the foot of the bed.

You feel the softness of my skin as I straddle your back. And also the hardness of my cock as I slowly rub it between your ass cheeks, back and forth, back and forth. I slap it against each cheek for effect and once again you are on fire. All you want now is to cum. To get it on and cum. Sensing the tension I stop touching you with my penis and lean over and whisper into your ear “not yet. You are not ready. You are still too sore. Later”. You want to scream in frustration but you bite your tongue. And my words are true. Despite the relaxation of the tub you are still sore all over from a month’s worth of stress. Your back is knotted, your shoulders still ache. The headache is gone and your feet feel great but the rest of you is in need of attention. And attention it will get.

You feel a warm, wet sensation on your shoulders accompanied by a pungent, penetrating scent. Hands glistening with oil begin to work over your shoulders. Kneading. Clutching. Pushing and pulling. Slowly I work all the tension out of your shoulders and upper back. Down the hands go. Inexorably the massaging hands work their way down towards your lower back. Relentless, they purge every knot, every tension, every hurt in their path. When they reach your lower back they go forcefully to work. You gasp in pain as they unclench muscles that have been locked tight for weeks. The pain dissolves into pleasure as tendons and muscles loosen and finally relax. Then you feel me slide my naked chest over your back up towards your shoulders. And then my whole naked, oil covered body slides down from your shoulders. Down all the way past your ass. Over your beautiful, tight, glistening ass. Down your legs and finally I’m gone. But not for long as my hands begin working your left foot. And then the calf. Oh my fucking god – the calf. You never realized how sore they could get until I started to heal them. Rough, deep strokes to get at the deep muscle tissue. Sweet, aching pain dissolves into bliss. And then the hamstrings and the inner thighs and the… Right foot. And Calf. And thighs.

You almost jump off the bed as an electric current jolts through you when you feel the first touch of my hands on your ass. You shake in anticipation as I run my large, strong hands over your butt. I grab both cheeks roughly and start kneading them. Its only then that you realize that butt cheeks are muscles too and that yours were sore. But not sore for long as my healing hands make your ass feel better than it ever has. It seems like hours pass by as my strong hands pull apart your cheeks and stroke between them, around them, over them. You are so hot that you are ready to beg for it. But not yet. “Roll over!” I announce.

Disappointed but also excited at newer, even better, possibilities you comply. However, your disappointment is complete when I get off you and begin massaging your left palm and arm. First, the palm with all its supposed connections to other parts of your body. You don’t know if that is true but it sure as hell feels awesome. And then long strokes up and down the arm. Up and down. Then the kneading and pleasing of the bicep and tricep. And when that is done the other arm. And then over to your chest. Once again your expectations rise as I work my hands over the top of your chest, soothing your pecs. And down the sides over your lats. I make a quick fake in the direction of your tits and you squirm and sigh. And then pout as my hands head in the other direction. “Those are not muscles” I whisper in your ear as I move down, working on your stomach.

Slowly I grind my hands all over your stomach. Soothing and pleasing. Healing and teasing. But never, not even once, do they go anywhere near where you really want them to go. And then I make a sudden thrust with both hands southwards down over the hips and you arch your back as you let out a moan of hope. Only to have the feeling quashed as I continue over the hips and down to the thighs. Teasing and kneading the inner thighs works you up something fierce. But eventually you settle back down into the relaxation of the massage as you accept that I have no intention of delving between them.

Finally, the massage over, I lie down on top of you covering you with my warmth. We lie like this for several minutes as I let you adjust to the total relaxation while letting your sexual fever cool down. Then abruptly I move off of you. I move to the top of the bed – sitting with my back to the headboard and invite you to come sit in front of me with your ass between my outstretched legs. You lean back and into me and are enveloped by the warmth of my body, the touch of my skin, the feel of my arms around you and the smell of me.

In this dream-like state you hear a sudden click and then your ears are filled with the sounds of sex. Women moaning and men groaning. Obscenities being shouted. Orgasms and more-gasms. Confused but aroused you begin squirming around in front of me.

“You can take off your blind fold now but do not move from where you are sitting,” I tell you. “And do not try to touch me or yourself without my permission. Just sit,” I continue. You take off the blindfold and are assaulted by the sights and sounds of sex. An onslaught of sex. In front of the bed is a huge projection TV that hadn’t been there before. And on the screen – sex! As you grasp the situation you see that you are tuning in to the tail end of a huge orgy scene. Hot, sexy firm bodies are everywhere. Women munching on pussy. Cocks being sucked. Asses being fucked. Semen flying, women crying, and everywhere loud sighing as one communal orgasm seems to hit the whole screen at once. You go from zero to horny in record speed as my hands begin massaging your back. And then the scene is over. Let down, you watch as another scene slowly begins to develop.

I reach over to the bedside table and pull out a bottle of champagne from a cooler on top of it. I pour us each a glass and hand one to you. As you take a sip you hear the sound of a lighter and once again the sweet stench of pot. I smoke some and pass it to you. I tell you to relax and enjoy a time-out for a bit. You nurse the champagne and the joint as I massage your shoulders. Only now do you have time to take in the rest of the room. Once again it is filled with candles. More candles than you you have ever seen in one room. Literally dozens. And you look down to admire the lush carpet of rose petals still covering the bed – and now the floor. As you continue nursing the joint I begin to stroke your back in earnest. This time not with the strong, firm hands of a masseuse but with the soft, teasing strokes of a lover. You feel the soft heat of my breath as I blow up and down your neck. And then the sweet nibble of my teeth on your earlobe and the probing wetness of my tongue as it explores your left ear. The joint is finished, you put down your drink and you notice that the screen is heating up in front of you. The rushing buzz of the pot fills your senses and makes every touch seem to echo throughout your body. You become intimately aware of just how damp your pussy is. How firm your breasts are again. How horny you are. You reach up to grab me as you feel my soft kisses on your neck igniting your now consuming desire. You cannot help but feel the hardness of my cock once again pressing into your back.

I calmly remove your hands from me and whisper “Don’t touch me. I’ll touch you. Trust me now. Just watch the screen. I’m going to let you cum very soon”.

As you stare, mesmerized, into the screen, watching and listening, my right hand snakes up to your breast as my left begins massaging your inner thigh. All the while my tongue laps circles in the small of your neck and your ears and eyes are filled with the sound and fury of fucking. You are not surprised when your own moans are added to those on the screen as both my hands begin making teasing circles around and around your nipples. Around but not touching – never touching. And then, when your nipples are rock hard, I grasp both of your tits from behind. I massage your nipples under my palms while kneading the whole tit with my fingers. As you begin to get seriously worked-up my right hand begins a slow, leisurely walk southward. Light flickering touches descend on your navel and then your lower belly. And then both my hands are on your inner thighs - kneading and stroking.

Finally, you gasp as I pry your outer lips apart with my left hand. I lick my right index finger and then start to run it lightly back and forth along the length of your slit. There is no need to moisten it as you are flooded down there. As I keep running the finger over your lips you begin to moan and rock your hips back and forth.

“Please…please…” you sigh.

“Please what?” I respond.

“Please touch my pussy. Put your finger in it,” You breathe in a low, throaty voice.

With that I slide my right hand down so that the heal of my hand is over the pudenda and I begin slowly massaging the area. As I do it I watch how the whole action works your rock hard clitoris back and forth indirectly. I slide my finger in and move the heel over the clitoris. I curve my finger all the way back and begin searching the front wall of your tunnel for that elusive g-spot. Back and forth the tip of my finger glides along the front wall of your pussy in a relentless come hither motion. All the while I keep grinding the heal of my hand lightly over your clitoris. My left hand is kneading your breast while its fingers pinch the nipple. You are squirming around so hard in my arms that it takes almost all of my strength to hold you. Strange sounds escape your lips as your eyes remain focused on a beautiful blonde being fucked from behind while another girl eats her pussy.

Then, as suddenly as it arrived, my hand is gone from your cunt and moved back to your right tit. You scream in frustration but I calmly whisper into your ear “You do it. Show me how you do it. I want to watch. Play with your pussy.”

Without a thought both of your hands are down there as I continue to caress both your tits and lick your neck. I stop licking so that I can lean over and look. I stare in fascination as I watch your expert hands glide over your pussy, sliding in and out of it. Your eyes are still glued to the screen as the brunette underneath the blonde starts licking her in earnest. The huge black guy behind her is banging her so hard that you can hear it as his stomach slaps into her ass. Your hips are moving back and forth rapidly and your breathing is strained. I continue to watch how you use one hand to play with your clit while the other sinks its fingers in and out of you. I am so hard now that I want to explode. But not now. This is about you. Just as you begin to reach a feverish peak I pull your hands away. You scream again with frustration. The scream is cut short as I replace them with mine after placing both of your hands on your tits. Once again I start out slowly but this time I copy exactly the motion that you were using. Slowly, relentlessly, my fingers dance through your pussy. Strange hands dancing a familiar dance, your dance, through your pussy.

You are squeezing your nipples hard now while I continue stoking your desire with my fingers. As you get really close I back off and let you simmer down a bit and then start you off towards the peak again. Many times I continue this until finally you yell out breathlessly “Please…please… for the love of god…”

“Please what?” I reply in the familiar taunting refrain.

“Please…Please...” you continue, barely able to form sentences.

“Say it!” I snap. “Say and I’ll do it. Say it and I’ll do it right now!”

Your body is moving all over the place as you squirm helplessly under the unrelenting rhythm of my hands. Finally you can’t take it any more and in a voice that you didn’t know you had you scream out “Please make me cum! For fuck's sake me cum! Make me cum now!”.

Without a word I increase the speed of my fingers and begin stroking in exactly the right spot – the spot you showed me. “I want you to cum now,” I whisper. You respond like you are being electrocuted. You start grinding your pussy into my hands with all of your strength. Your eyes are wide, still staring at the screen as you watch the blonde who is now in the same condition as you. She has a big cock drilling her from behind and a soft tongue swiping at her clit. Your breathing is laboured and an unending series of screams begins to come pouring out of you. “Oh God…Oh god…Oh my mother-fucking God I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum all over your fingers!”.

“Cum now! Cum right now!” I scream into your ear.

With an unholy squeal matched only by that of the blonde on the screen you yell out “I’m cumming. Holy fuck I’m cumming right now. Oh god I’m cumming so fucking hard”. I watch in rapture as your whole body begins to contract. I feel your cunt clench hard around my fingers as my hands are drenched in juice. Your head slams back into my chest as your eyes roll back their sockets. Your lips stay open but nothing comes out as your body just keeps jerking against my hand for what seems like hours. I keep up the stimulation, rubbing you all the way through your monumental orgasm.

Finally, you stop convulsing and slump into me, eyes closed, tears of relief streaming down your cheeks. I turn off the TV and just hold you there for what seems like minutes. When you finally regain your senses you look up at me. You stare into my eyes and say “Thank you”.

“You don’t need to thank me. I love you,” is all I can manage in reply as I get up and gently lie you down on the bed making sure to put your head on the pillow. “Besides,” I say as I flash you a devilish grin “we are not even close to done yet. You just lie down here in your bed of roses for a bit. I’ll be back later.”

You begin to open your mouth in protest but I silence you with a finger to your lips. “Sshhh. You’re tired now. You need a bit of rest if you are going to survive the rest of the evening. Go to sleep now and I’ll wake you when its time”.

With that I take a silk sheet that I had laying beside the bed and drape it over you, sealing you in with your rose petals. It was warm enough that you didn’t really need it but we all sleep better with something covering us. And then I shut off the lights, close the door, and go downstairs to prepare for round two.

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ahhh dick, mi amor, you posted it again!! i'm gonna have to print this baby out and use it as instructions... lol... WHERE'S PART TWO?!?!



the secret of being a bore is to tell everything ~vOLTAIRE


one should never trust a woman who tells her real age. a woman who would tell that would tell one anything ~ oSCAR wILDE


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I am NOT a fag hag. I'm a fairy princess.

"When the soul wishes to experience something, she throws an image of the experience out before her, and enters into her own image." -Eckhart

"I heard of a man that says words so beautiful that if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him.

If I am dumb by your body while silence blossoms like tumors on our lips it is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door." - Leonard Cohen

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  • 3 years later...

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