Climbing

Clinging to the ledge overlooking a not-very-inviting gorge and all I could think of was my companion's ripe bottom hovering directly above me.

Concentrate, Amir, concentrate, I cautioned myself as I followed her.

"We'll rest here," she said, taking command. It seemed to come naturally to her. She took two chocolate bars from her backpack and tossed one to me. I caught it in midair and stripped off part of the wrapper. She watched me with those sharp, hawk-like eyes as I took a bite and I found myself wondering what was going on in her mind.

"How long have you been climbing?" she asked.

"Seven years," I muttered between chomps. She'd asked me earlier on, right after we met.

"I thought you said one?"

"Seven," I said curtly. Where was she heading?

"You're too slow," she stated flatly.

"Hmm," I grunted in what I hoped was an annoyed don't-ask-me-any-more-questions tone. There was no way in the world I was going to tell her I'd been slow because I was staring at her ass.

Somehow she'd found a way to eat up her chocolate while asking me questions. She made to toss the wrapper away.

"Put it in your backpack," I said firmly. She shot me an angry look, but complied.

"Well then, ten minutes should be enough rest," she got to her feet and dusted the seat of her pants.

"I'll lead the way this time," I offered.

"You're too slow," she said curtly, pushing past me.

"I'm not slow," I protested.

"Let's not argue," she said. "I'll let you go ahead after the next rest."

I shrugged in resignation and followed.

She was still a rookie. I could tell from the way she used her feet and hands, how she leaned away from the rock instead of hugging it. Her tight trousers weren't the best choice for climbing but they hugged her rear and legs like spandex. No complaints there with regards to the view.

The rope slacked off so suddenly I had little time to react. I managed to step away just in time as she tumbled past me. Why did she have to climb directly over me? Rookie again.

"Help!" she screamed from below.

"Relax," I called down as I found firm footing and began to haul her in. When I got her to my level she threw her hands around me. It was suddenly all busty and soft and my head began to swim.

"Hey, hey," I cautioned. "We'll both fall off if you're not careful."

"You go ahead this time," she said.

We switched kits and I went above. With nothing to ogle this time, I made good time ^{(author's note: is this correct?)} while she struggled to follow.

"You're too fast," she called up to me.

"You're too slow," I retorted cheerily. "We'll be at the top in two minutes."

We reached the top in three minutes. By then she was huffing and puffing. I handed her a bottle of Pepsi from my backpack.

"Thanks," she said, unscrewing the cap and drinking it in large gulps.

"Do you think we can make it back before nightfall?" she asked.

"Who's we?" I asked.

"You know what I mean."

"I was planning to spend the night here."

"I'll go back alone then," she said, twiddling the bottle in her hands.

"It's too dangerous," I warned. "You're tired and it might get dark before you're halfway down."

"That's true," she relented. "How do you intend to spend the night then?"

"This," I took the sleeping bag out of my backpack and spread it out.

"Is it... do you think it'll be enough for two?" she blushed.

"Why?" I said mock-seriously.

"You know what I mean," she said. "I didn't bring one along."

"It should be. Do you still have any of those chocolate bars?" I asked.

She handed two to me and we ate silently, almost afraid to make eye contact.

We finally snuggled under the sleeping bag, keeping as far away from each other as possible.

______________________________________________________

She touched me first.

I was drifting off to sleep when I felt a hand tracing the line of my jaw. It moved down to caress my chest. I lay still, unwilling to give myself away.

Dick the one-eyed monster was awake before the hand even got to him. She stroked along its length without wrapping her hand around it and it twitched in response. I began to breath heavily. It was impossible to pretend I wasn't conscious of what was going on any longer. As if by some preconceived signal, we moved closer and I reached out for her.

I found her face and repeated her motions, tracing her cheek, then her eyes, nose and lips with my fingers. I reached under her shirt and cupped one breast, teasing the nipple through her bra with my thumb. I discovered her bra was strapless when I touched her shoulder. I quickly unhooked it from behind her and freed her melons.

She sighed when my lips closed around her hard nipple. I rolled it around in my mouth, gently sucking. She held me to her tit, moaning encouragement as I licked and slurped.

She succeeded in getting my cock out with her other hand. The head of my member leaked pre-come freely, giving her enough lubrication to masturbate me. I pulled away from her tit and we shared a kiss. She tasted of Pepsi and mint gum when my tongue touched hers.

I pulled her onto me. My hands went behind her to fondle the ass I'd been staring at all day. I tugged at the waistband of her trousers, taking them down along with her panties in one go.

The musky smell of her wet pussy wafted into my nostrils and I sniffed appreciatively. I found her clit on the first try and twiddled it between my thumb and forefinger. She moaned into my mouth.

She was a lot wetter than I'd thought. My two fingers went into her easily enough. I fingered her for a while then spread her ass cheeks. I caressed the area around her asshole, not touching it until she knew that was what I was after.

I stroked it gently at first, making circles with my finger before homing in on the point the wrinkles converged. There was mild resistance at the entrance, then I was in. I fingered her most private region slowly, gradually increasing my tempo as it twitched and relaxed.

"Fuck me," she whispered hoarsely, ending the kiss.

I guided my shaft and entered her in one thrust. She ground her clit against the base of my cock as I slammed away. The sleeping bag wasn't much room any longer. We both climbed out then got on the bag and went at it like we hadn't gotten laid in years.

There were no niceties, no whispered words, no fumbling. It was just fucking, and the goal was to get there. I came before her, and my pulsing cock must have set off her own orgasm. She dug her nails into my back and held on tight as I continued pounding away while the last waves of pleasure washed over us.

We climbed back in and fell right asleep. Tomorrow we would begin the journey back down, but not before another session.

Meeting Jeanne

The woman standing outside my door was dripping wet. I briefly considered turning her away, but decided against it.

I pulled back from the peephole and unlocked the door.

"I'm sorry I got stranded and..." she stammered, pulling the motorcycle helmet off her head.

"Come in," I said, holding the door open.

"Thank you," she hurried inside. "My bike had a problem and the frigging rain decided to fall at this moment."

I stood looking at the wet spot forming around her shoes on the carpet. She looked down at her feet and grinned apologetically.

"I'm sorry about your carpet," she said, hugging herself tighter. I noticed her teeth were chattering and realized that in my preoccupation with the soaking of my carpet I had forgotten to offer her something to dry herself with. A brief survey revealed she was soaked to the skin and a simple towel wouldn't do.

"Wait here," I said, disappearing inside my bedroom. I chose some old clothes and picked a towel.

"Here you go," I handed them to her when I returned. "You can change in the bathroom over there."

She had unwrapped her hands from around herself and although I trained my eyes on her face to maintain some level of propriety, they strayed a little and I caught a brief glimpse of nipples poking though her wet shirt. If the front view was tempting, the back was definitely alluring and I could stare unabashedly at her shapely ass as well as the outline of her panties underneath her skirt as she went to change.

I waited until she had disappeared inside the bathroom before going into the kitchen to make coffee. When I returned from the kitchen with two cups of coffee and some croissants, I found her dressed and standing in the living room, too polite to sit down without being asked to. The pair of shorts and shirt I had given her hung loosely on her and I wished she was still in her wet clothes.

"There was a dryer outside the bathroom," I said. "Did you put your clothes in it?"

She nodded. I handed her a cup and she lowered herself into the seat I indicated.

"How bad's the bike?" I asked.

"Not very bad. I could probably fix it in ten minutes -- it's hard to do that in the rain when you're getting soaked -- and I needed some shelter," she said.

While she sipped delicately from her cup and nibbled on a croissant, I studied her. She looked to be in her mid-twenties with brown eyes, black hair and soft-looking luscious lips. She caught me staring at her and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks.

"You do a lot of writing don't you?" she nodded towards the pile of paper with my handwriting all over.

"A little," I said, adding, "Nothing much."

She picked one of the sheets and glanced through it. When she looked up at me there was surprise written all over her face.

"My God, The Real Fantasia! You're The Professor," she said.

"Yes," it was my turn to be surprised. "You read my blog?"

"I'm a fan!" she gushed.

I'd been writing my fantasies on a blog for a little over a year. I got hits from all over the world, including the city I lived in but never had it occurred to me that there was a possibility of running into one of my readers.

"I'm glad you like it. Thanks for reading."

"How do you make up your stories?" she asked.

"I just write them. A little from one fantasy, a little from another, and soon I have a story," I explained, trying all the while to look calm. Writing about sex doesn't faze me -- discussing it does.

"Do any of them come true?" she leaned forward and I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra under my shirt. Her coffee was ignored, her fascination with The Professor in the flesh taking over.

"No," I laughed. "But it doesn't hurt any to imagine they will does it?"

"I suppose not," she said.

"Your coffee's getting cold," I warned.

She looked at it and shrugged.

"Surely, there must be something you base your writing on," she said.

"Yes -- equality. No domination on either side, no rape, no threats."

"But in Restrained, you had something..."

"That wasn't what I originally intended," I said defensively. "The agent was supposed to have been rescued by his real controller but the rescue sequence was too long. Most of what I write is consensual -- just two adults having a good time."

"Like us," she said softly.

We stared at each other over our coffee cups. I looked away and the moment passed.

"What's with the fascination with buttholes?" she asked suddenly.

I had expected the question from the moment she discovered who I was but it still caught me unawares. I spilled some coffee onto my hand but it wasn't hot enough to scald me.

"When I was little," I began. "I wanted to see people exactly as they were." I placed my cup carefully on a side stool. "Unfortunately, that wasn't always possible. The famous, the rich, the important, the respected, all loomed larger than life. To a 3-year-old boy, the solution was simple -- think of them as having er... buttholes."

She giggled.

"Introduce me to anyone famous or exceptional today," I continued. "Introduce me to an actor or an actress who's won ten Oscars and in my mind I go, 'Yeah, but he's got one of those' or 'Yeah, she's got an asshole.'"

"I've got one too," she said.

Our eyes met again and this time she looked away before I did. She was baiting me, but why? I wasn't exactly drop-dead gorgeous or muscular, or whatever it was ladies liked in men but...

The feel of her soft lips touching mine halted my train of thoughts. We kissed briefly -- a slow, sensual brushing of lips that had to end because our haunches couldn't hold us leaning forward for very long.

She dropped her mug and crossed the little table between us. I lifted her onto my lap. Her tongue was soft like the rest of her, wet and wild. We kissed like we had all the time in the world, my hand rubbing gently up and down her back.

She slipped her hand under my shirt and caressed my stomach, stroking the hair that ran up my abdomen and stopped just shy of my chest. She began to kiss my neck -- soft feathery kisses with the occasional hickey. When she lifted the hem of my shirt and sucked on my nipple, I moaned, surprised at the sensations. I know I would have cum if I hadn't held her off then.

I unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing and lowered my head to her breasts. I nuzzled them briefly, then took her left nipple between my teeth.

"Please be gentle," she whispered.

I didn't bite her. I held the hard nub in my teeth, flicking my tongue against it, feeling her respond with complete abandon. I switched to the right breast, then trailed my tongue down her abdomen, stopping briefly at her navel. I lifted her off my lap and placed her on the sofa.

There's something about looking into someone's eyes while you pleasure them -- a feeling of oneness, an indescribable connection. She held my gaze as I performed my magic with my tongue, not looking once at her cunt but relying on eye communication for guidance. She bit down on her lowerlip and from the tightening of her thigh muscles I knew she was getting there. I left off tonguing her and got her to lift her legs above her head.

Her anus was a converging set of reddish-brown wrinkles. I blew lightly on it and watched it twitch reflexively, then waited, letting her expectation mount before touching it lightly with the tip of my tongue.

"Oh my God," she gasped. "Oh my God."

She breathed shallowly, her asshole twitching as my tongue swabbed it. She clenched up suddenly, then went limp as she came. I didn't stop. My tongue lapped at the juices that ran into the crack of her ass.

I expected her to relax and catch her breath but she dropped her legs quickly and pulled me up into the sofa, trading places with me. It didn't take her more than two seconds for her to get my shorts off and grasp my dick. She licked teasingly at the underside, then took me completely into her mouth.

"Stop," I said when I felt the familiar pressure before the tingling.

"Why?"

"I'm one of those guys who only cum once," I said.

I pulled her into my lap again. I had just positioned the head of my cock at her entrance when she got off me.

"I have to go," she sounded desperate.

"Why?" I was incredulous. It was still raining outside -- and there was the matter of having not yet cum.

"Not that. I have to pee!"

I watched her dash into the bathroom, wondering all the while why women could feel the urge to relieve themselves while aroused and hoping she would still be in the mood when she returned. I made a fist around my cock and masturbated slowly, unwilling to lose my erection before she returned.

She ran out of the bathroom in the same haste and straddled me. I held onto her ass and she wrapped her hands around me as I bounced her up and down my cock. She climaxed twice on my dick and when I came, she just kept moving. Surprisingly, I remained hard.

We switched positions and I entered her from behind, getting a wonderful view of her pucker. My balls slapped against her ass every time I thrust completely in. She bucked her hips to match my tempo and I could feel another orgasm building up.

For a moment I was on the brink, then she tightened her vaginal muscles around me and I came, my cock jerking inside her as I shot all I had left in my balls into her.

After we had cleaned up and she was lying across my lap, my forefinger playing with her asshole, she asked, "So what's your name Professor?"

I told her.

"I'm Jeanne -- with a double n and an e," she said.

Thank you Jeanne.

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Fictitious

Masturbathlon

Glistening pink.

I stared, mesmerized. Pink panties were pink but when they glistened, they meant only one thing -- pussy.

"Done looking?" Alexis asked, startling me.

"What?" I jerked my gaze guiltily upward.

"Done looking?" she asked again, parting her legs a little wider. Dangerous -- very dangerous.

"Alexis, I don't think this is a good idea," I protested mildly as she pushed up her skirt until the entire goods were on display.

Don't look, I cautioned myself but my eyes went lower, drawn like a moth to a flame.

She had shaved her pussy down to a very low patch. Her full lips stared at me in their full glory. My mouth watered.

"Well?" she prompted.

"I can't do this," I got to my feet.

It was her turn to stare and she giggled. I followed her gaze and looked down at the tent in my trousers, then back at her. A guy can only hold out so long. I swallowed the lump in my throat and returned to my seat.

"Why're you doing this?" I asked, trying to put off the inevitable.

"I can't keep giving you hints forever," she sighed. "You wanted me -- I saw it in your eyes when we met -- and I wanted you."

I made to get up and go to her but she stopped me.

"Let me see your penis," she said.

Let me see your penis. It sounded so clinical, so formal, like something doctors used when conversing or lawyers used when grilling clients -- it was hardly the word to use in a sexual connotation.

I unzipped my trousers and produced my cock, feeling slightly foolish as I held it by the base to keep it upright for her inspection. I was fully erect and she surveyed me with unabashed interest taking in the veins on the sides, the striation where the foreskin had been removed and the slightly open hole at the top.

Her hands went down and she began to play with herself, opening her legs completely for my viewing pleasure. She fingered herself with one hand and twiddled her clit with the other.

I wrapped a hand around my shaft and began to masturbate, matching her tempo stroke for stroke. My eyes met hers and we smiled at each other.

When I looked between her legs again, she had stopped playing with herself. She leaned slightly backward and moved forward in the chair. I watched dry-throated as she traced the outline of her asshole with her finger, wetting it with the juices from her cunt. When her finger popped in past the sphincter, I unconsciously began to jerk off faster.

We came within seconds of each other, her eyes wide with wonder as the semen leaped from my cock.

We've had a few more sessions since then but I still haven't fucked her.

The Ambassador

The actress I had been talking with for the last few minutes was beginning to get on my nerves. I looked around frantically, trying to locate the Count.

"...so he asked me if I'd tried Ecstasy and I told him I heard it was pretty addictive and then he said..." the actress just wouldn't let up. I resisted the urge to tell her to shut up.

I finally located the Count. He was standing with a group of diplomats looking almost as bored as I was. I caught his eye and made imploring faces. His mustache twitched with amusement as he excused himself.

"...the next day he didn't show up on the set and the director was mad. Turned out he..." The actress wasn't out of steam yet. She stopped when the Count got to us.

"A good evening to you Madame Zelda..." he bowed gallantly.

"Zeldman," she corrected sharply.

I slipped away unnoticed, glad to get away. I spent a while wandering before I saw her.

She was wearing a red dress cut low behind her, standing with her back to me. Well-honed shoulder blades, straight neck, smooth back, and then that derriere -- not too big, not too flat. I imagined clasping it while holding her to me, her breasts flat against my chest.

I wondered if the front view was as spectacular as I strolled in a semicircle that would have brought us face to face.

"Ooh Mr Lancaster, there's someone who'd like to meet you!"

I stifled the automatic frown as I turned towards the annoying media escort I'd been assigned for the evening.

"Yes?"

"Over there," she took my elbow and guided me towards the person she wanted me to meet, trying all the while not to fall over in her high heels.

"May I introduce the High Commissioner of Guyana to the United Kingdom, Ms Nadia Shabab?"

The lady in red turned to me and my breath caught in my throat.

"Ms Shabab, Mr. Lancaster. Mr Lancaster, Ms Shabab."

"How do you do?" we said together.

I couldn't stop myself from looking. She was even more spectacular up front. Smooth, ebony skin, high cheekbones. Wood would do for her, I thought.

"I saw some of your sculptures at the gallery Mr Lancaster," she said. "They're spectacular."

"Thank you Ms Shabab," I smiled.

"If I'm correct, you've done only one full statue," she remarked.

"Yes. They take too long to work on. I prefer busts," I explained.

"Really?" she had a mischievous smile on her face.

"I mean, busts are more interesting to work with," I said hastily.

"Oh," she lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes," I said. "Especially in the nude. There's a lot of detail."

"Interesting," she remarked. "And I suppose that's why you work only with female models?"

I averted my gaze. Was she being flirtatious or was she trying to get me to say something offensive? My eyes met hers again and I tried to gauge her intent.

"The female body is beautiful," I replied. "I feel privileged to replicate it in my work. Of course, in order to fully appreciate all its features, it has to be in the nude."

"It definitely shows in your work," she said. "I know this is hardly the place to discuss business. Can we talk sometime?"

"Definitely ma'am," I said politely and took her proffered hand.

It was a full fifteen minutes after she left that I opened my fist slightly to sneak a peek at the silky panties she had pressed into my palm.

_________________________________________________________

It was drizzling when I walked out of the gathering and made my way towards the black limousine described in the note concealed in the panties I had been given.

"Mr Lancaster?" the man standing beside the car asked.

"I'm Lancaster," I said.

He pulled open the door and ushered me into the darkness of the back seat before jogging around to get behind the wheel.

"Drive us around the city, Amar," the voice came from beside me.

The partition shot up and we were alone.

"I happen to do a little sculpturing, Mr Lancaster," the High Commissioner said.

"Really?" I asked, my throat dry. I wasn't listening to her. The thoughts running through my mind all ended with one common fact -- she wasn't wearing any underwear and I was still holding a pair of panties in my fist.

"Yes, mostly male," she sighed. "The phallus is such a sight isn't it?"

I was making rapid connections in my mind and it didn't take me long to figure who she was.

"You're the one called Shonell," I stated unnecessarily.

Shonell was an anonymous sculptor who only carved phalli -- with foreskins, circumcised, bisected, and all the other variants. Her work didn't show up in major art exhibitions but they thrived in the entertainment industry. A particular actor I knew was an ardent collector and I had one as a present from my ex.

In reply, she found my zipper in the darkness and extracted my cock. She wrapped her fingers around me and stroked up and down my shaft, then her tongue was in my ear and I was tingling from the sensations she evoked in me.

Our lips met in the darkness. She explored my lower lip, sucking on it, tasting it, teasing me, then moved to my upper lip. By the time her tongue found its way into my mouth I had overcome my nervousness and reached for her breasts.

They were pert and soft when I weighed them in my hands. I found the straps of her dress and tugged them down her shoulders, conscious all the time of her wily tongue dipping in and out of my mouth, never quite letting my own tongue catch u with it.

I undid her bra and cupped her breasts. my thumbs found her nipples and they tautened at my touch as I stroked them. I broke off the kiss and went after her breasts like a maddened bull. She stopped masturbating me and moaned softly, stroking my hair.

I pushed her away from me and located the hem of her dress in the darkness. Getting on my knees on the floor of the car, I buried my head between her thighs and got her cunt opening on the first try. This time the moans were louder and she gushed copiously onto my tongue. When she screamed, I knew I had brought her to orgasm.

Without giving her time to recover, I got into my seat and pulled her into my lap, impaling her on my cock. It seemed like forever before I got all of my dick into her, then I was gripping her ass and thrusting away.

I erupted inside her and as our mixed juices ran down my cock, I wondered if life got any better than this...

________________________________________________________

Yesterday a package arrived in the mail. Even before I opened it I knew it was from the woman known as Nadia to me, Shonell to others. I didn't have to measure the sculpture, but I did and it was a perfect fit.

I'm working on a bust now and I known I have the right dimensions. I just know.

The Real Fantasia

It was my second week at Q Corp. Everyone was friendly and seemed to go out of their way to make me feel at home. I'd met a few of the girls on my team and they were real lookers. I was waiting to survey the lie of the land before making a move.

"Hello Clarke!" someone stuck her head through the door of my cubicle. I turned.

It was Uemura, the petite chattery girl working with me on the profiling team.

"Hi Uemura!" I grinned, glad to get a break from what seemed to be intentionally obfuscated code.

She walked in and peered over my shoulder.

"Bob wrote that didn't he?" she asked.

I nodded and she sighed.

"We've been trying to get our clients to move to the new API. It's cleaner and faster. Meanwhile, inhouse we still have people like Bob using stuff we depreciated two revisions back."

"I think I've already checked in some of that," I said.

"Dan's going to raise hell when you tell him," she shook her head. "Sometimes I wish I could kick that Bob of an asshole in the nuts."

That was Uemura. Swearing and cursing in that cute accent while keeping a pretty, straight face. I smiled inwardly.

"I'm new here. I wouldn't want to challenge someone who's been here since you rolled out the very first version, if what I hear is true," I shrugged resignedly.

"I'll talk to him," she reassured me. "Did you get an invitation to the party?"

"What party?" I asked as the email notification box for my email program popped up. "There it is."

It was from Jenny, our project manager inviting us to a party at 7pm.

"What's it for?" I asked Uemura.

"Beats me," she lifted her shoulders slightly. "I guess you'll have to get used to it. We have parties all the time. After a while we stopped having any reasons. We just have parties and no reasons, yes?"

We laughed at her little joke.

"So tell me, Uemura-chan, are they any fun?" I asked.

"Normal stuff. Beer..."

"I teetotal."

"Tee-to-tal," she repeated. "I don't think I've heard that word before. What does it mean?"

"I can't give you a dictionary definition, but it means I don't drink alcohol."

"It's good you mentioned it. We can arrange something else for you."

"I don't understand," I was puzzled. "You said 'we.' Is it something you and Jenny are hosting together?"

"Parties are a company affair -- everyone pitches in," she explained. "Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it."

"I think I will," I replied.

She looked at her watch, signifying the small talk was over.

"I've got to get back to work," she said unnecessarily. "Just leave out the packages Bob worked on until we come to an agreement. It wouldn't make sense to check them in only to have Dan pull them out of the repository."

I watched her leave, my eyes on the subtle motion of her small, almost imperceptible ass under her jeans. I gulped, admonished myself for my roving eyes, then resumed working.

____________________________________________________________

That evening I had nothing doing. I'm not exactly a party man. My only recollections of parties were the ones from my college days -- loud music, too much booze, and then the smell of pot and whatever else people smoked.

I briefly contemplated not going but after channel-surfing for a few minutes with nothing interesting on TV, boredom finally got to me. I looked around for a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt, making yet another mental note to do my laundry.

When I got in the party was already in full swing. The dance floor was alive with company executives jiving with low-level coders. The music blaring from the speakers was a cacophony of sounds that I wouldn't have termed music even if I was high on crack. Everyone seemed to be having a great time.

I walked to the bar to get a drink and while away time.

Bob was manning the bar. He had on a pair of headphones and was doing the best jig he could from behind the bar. I asked for a Coke and he poured me some brandy. I didn't complain. I found a seat and pretended to sip from my glass.

"Having a great time are we?" someone sat next to me, out of breath. She had obviously just come off the dance floor.

"Yes," my voice lacked conviction. Jenny laughed.

"It's pure bullshit, but it works because of what's to come later," she winked.

"Really?" I asked dryly.

"Yeah," she winked again, taking my hand. "Let's dance."

I didn't have time to protest. She dragged me onto the dance floor and I tried to move as well as I could with her.

There didn't seem to be any logic to our movements except that she was rubbing her breasts against my chest one moment, then the next had her back to me and was brushing her ass against the crotch of my jeans.

"This is tuneless!" I shouted above the din.

"It's meant to be!" she shouted back.

Good God, what have I gotten myself into? I wondered.

I excused myself and headed for the bathroom. When I pushed the door open, I stood open-mouthed.

I recognized one of the girls on my team backed against the wall. Her skirt and panties were in a pool around her high heels and kneeling before her, almost in reverence was an intern. His head was buried between her legs and from where I stood I could hear her moans as he licked her.

I was aware of my erection when the crotch of my jeans tightened. I had never realized I had the voyeur in me but I doubt they would have noticed me even if I had walked right up to them.

She stroked his hair adoringly, a look of pure lust on her face as his tongue played with her cunt. I saw him briefly disengage, then rise to his feet and penetrate her in one single thrust before I left hurriedly to cool off, the urge to relieve myself gone.

When I rejoined the party some more meaningful music was playing. Bob had taken off his headphones and I was able to get a Coke.

I retired into a corner to sip on my drink, the images of the intern going down on my colleague fresh in my mind and serving as a reminder that I hadn't gotten laid in months.

"May I have this dance?" I heard Uemura ask.

"Where've you been?" I turned to her.

"Do you want to dance or not?" she asked again. She pulled me to my feet before I could object and we joined the others on the dance floor.

Before long I was moving in ways I never knew I could. My partner was lively, and I found myself wondering why I'd thought it wasn't going to be swell minutes before.

A slow number was put on and Uemura came into my arms. I fished my handkerchief out of my pocket and helped her wipe the sweat on her face. She smiled gratefully.

I can't remember when we made contact but some moments later, she had her face buried in my chest. I rubbed her back gently, moving my hands slowly down until I got to the beginning of her bottom.

I took a deep breath when I slid my hands even lower until I was cupping her buttocks. I kneaded them gently, pulling her even closer.

"That feels nice," she sighed. "Rub my back."

We both knew I wasn't rubbing her back.

I kissed the top of her head, then buried my nose in her hair. She smelled wonderful -- sweaty from dancing, but wonderful.

Taking encouragement from her sighs, I hiked her short skirt up slightly, and massaged her warm, panty-clad bottom. She tilted her head upward and our eyes met. She was blushing.

I realized she was guiding us towards a darker corner. I turned so that I had my back to everyone and slipped my hands into her panties, my thumb finding her clit. She tilted her head up and we kissed -- slowly and tentatively at first, then wildly, not getting enough of our tongues.

My erection was more pronounced now and it rubbed against her abdomen. She rubbed her palm against my crotch, then deftly, unzipped my jeans and popped out my cock with some difficulty.

I was too far gone to care if everyone was watching. I peeled her panties down and my finger zeroed in on her asshole. I traced the wrinkles, somewhat smoothened by the sweat in her crack, and she jerked slightly.

"Relax," I whispered. She nodded as I spread her cheeks even further for unrestricted access.

Her fingers were wrapped around my cock and she masturbated me as gently as the lack of moisture allowed. The pressure was beginning to build up at the base of my shaft. I wanted her to stop... but I didn't want her to stop.

When my cock jerked, she spun me around to face the others. I was aghast but there was little I could do. There was a thrill from the taboo-ness of facing the group and shooting my cum across the room from my pulsing cock.

When it was over and I began to soften, I stood facing them sheepishly. I had no idea how I was going to make a graceful exit. I scanned the room slowly, my eyes connecting with each person's, trying to gauge their reaction to what had happened.

Everyone was silent and I felt beads of cold sweat forming on my neck and running down the hollow of my back.

Whatever expectation I had of what would happen next didn't include Bob giving me the thumbs up from behind the bar, then the eruption as everyone cheered.

It was surreal. I looked round again and slowly, realization dawned on me.

I was at an orgy.

Jenny was straddled over Dan's lap but I could see his cock, glistening with her juices, between her legs. Mubarak, the Pakistani DBA has his hand inside the blouse of one of the marketing executives. Everywhere I looked, I saw people getting it on.

I turned to Uemura. She had stepped out of her panties and skirt and was wearing a broad grin on her face.

"Why, you witch!" I said in mock anger.

She laughed, then turned and ran. I followed.

We dashed out of the party room, heading for the offices. She turned a corner and when I went round it, she jumped into my arms, knocking the wind out of me.

She wrapped her legs around me and we kissed again, taking our time this time. She wrapped her legs around my waist and I supported her by placing my hands under her bottom.

I moved to the wall and held her against it.

"Why didn't you tell me it was an orgy?" I asked.

"You wouldn't have come if I told you, would you?" she asked back.

I thought for a moment, then shook my head, "No."

With my teeth, I ripped off the buttons of her blouse. She wasn't wearing a brassiere. I played with her breasts, holding her nipples lightly between my teeth and flicking my tongue against the tips. She held my head to her, the low moans coming from her throat telling me I was doing well.

I went lower, licking down her abdomen, enjoying the salty taste of her skin. I paused briefly at her navel and she giggled like a schoolgirl when I sucked on it.

I moved still lower but it wasn't bright enough for me in the corridor. I lifted her off the floor and headed for the conference room.

Without breaking my stride, I switched on the lights and placed her on the table.

"Is this necessary?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied. "I want to see all of you. I want to see your pussy."

And your asshole, I didn't add. I would probably have freaked her out if I'd said that.

I parted the soft folds of flesh and began to lick, Her legs opened wider as she moaned with pleasure. When my tongue found her hiding clit, she grabbed my head and came violently.

I wet my finger in her cum and brushed it against her anus. Her orgasm hadn't subsided and it was a while after she was done cumming before she noticed. She was strangely quiet, not moving except for the occasional flex of the ring of muscle. I could tell it was a new experience for her and she was too shy to talk about something that taboo.

"Well?" I prompted, breaking the silence, my finger stroking her. "What do you think?"

"Freaky," she whispered. "I can't believe I'm enjoying this."

I chuckled. "That's normal," I said. "It's pretty."

My dick was back to life again. She helped me step out of my denims. Taking my penis in her hand, she brushed it against her slit, then eased the head in. She was so wet I slid in without much effort. I placed my hands under her hips and she wrapped her legs around my waist.

The walls of her velvety cunt, smooth and slippery with her juices felt like heaven. I thrust away enthusiastically, never wanting the moment to end. We both came at the same time and my cum was still scalding her sugar walls when she flipped us over on the conference table and began to ride me.

Surprisingly, my erection hadn't subsided. I played with her asshole as I moved my hips to meet her bouncing on my cock. I could feel another orgasm building up. There was the familiar tingling sensation at the base of my cock...

___________________________________________________________

...And then I felt the wetness of soaked my boxers. I tossed off the sheets and switched on the bedside lamp. The time by the clock said it was 7:00am.

Damnit, I was late!

I shaved and washed in record time, grabbed the first shirt and pair of pants I saw and joined the rush hour traffic.

When I walked into the Q Corp building, I hurried to my cubicle to see if I could get done with my assigned task before 9.

I found Uemura behind my workstation, calmly tapping away at the keyboard.

"Hello Clarke," she said without turning.

"Hi," I said. "Thanks for the help."

She turned round and flashed me a smile. "We all help each other here -- it's really nothing."

"I'm sorry I overslept," I explained. "I had some silly dream that..."

I stopped, realizing I had almost given it away.

She swiveled round to face me. "What dream?"

"It's nothing," I said hastily. "Something about a wild party."

Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "You'd better hurry along and see Jenny then. I'd like to hear about your dream."

I plopped my laptop bag on the desk and hurried to Jenny's office.

When I pushed open the door, my mouth hung open. She was bent over her desk and Dan was stabbing his dick in and out of her from behind.

"Hello Clarke," she called cheerily. "Would you like to join us?"

"Ummm, no," I said quickly and shut the door.

When I got back to my cubicle, Uemura was waiting for me.

"I'm not sure I understand," I said, embarrassed. "I don't remember driving back home."

"That's because I fucked you out," she said the words easily. "Bob and Ivan took you home."

I nodded, dazed.

"You look tense," she remarked. "Do you want me to give you a blowjob?"

"What?!"

"Relax," she said. "It's like asking you if you want a drink."

She brushed past me. When she reached the doorway, she stopped and said, "Don't forget I offered you one."

This was going to take some getting used to.

Masseuse

I don't particularly fancy being near smokers -- especially women smokers -- but as the woman leaning against the railing got out a cigarette, I found myself watching her -- intently. She fumbled in her handbag for a minute then threw a casual glance in my direction.

I waited as she walked towards me, taking my time to admire her smooth, tanned legs.

"Excuse me," she said. "Do you have a lighter?"

"I don't smoke," I replied. "But I've got some matches."

I lit her cigarette for her, finding something sensuous in the way she took a drag and blew the smoke out. We stood looking out to sea.

She was leaning slightly away from me and from time to time, I let my eyes wander over the tight small buttocks so wonderfully outlined in her white shorts.

She coughed when she sucked in too much smoke.

"Smoking's not good for your health, you know," I said.

"I know," she replied between coughs. "I smoke when I'm nervous and I haven't been nervous in six years."

"Seasick?" I asked. She nodded.

We were silent for a few minutes and I continued my discrete survey of her bottom.

"Feel any better?" I asked. She shook her head coughing again. I took the cigarette from her and crushed it under my shoe.

"I know just the right thing," I smiled down at her. "You're tense, too many positive ions. A massage perhaps?"

She took off her dark glasses and our eyes met. From the searching way she looked at me, I could tell she was trying to determine my motives.

"Well?" I held my hand out. She took it and together we went upstairs to my suite.

I got a towel and handed it to her.

"You can change here," I said, adding. "I won't look."

I went into the bedroom and changed into lighter clothing. When I returned she was lying face down on the table, the white towel draped over her butt. Her clothes were draped over the chair and a thrill shot through me when I noticed her panties were at the top.

She had the smoothest, toned skin I'd ever seen, the bra strap lines on her back her only blemish. My hands trembled with anticipation as I uncorked the bottle of massage oil Id gotten the day before. I poured some onto her back and smoothed it over, massaging her shoulder blades and neck before focusing on her back.

The towel didn't exactly cover her butt completely and I could just make out where the small of her back ended and her butt crack began. My hands stopped just shy of her bottom every time I moved down and I had to resist the urge to yank the towel off and fondle her ass.

When I was done with her back I moved around the table to her legs and feet and applied the oil. As I lifted each leg to rub some underneath, I sneaked peeks at her snatch. She was wet.

After a while of working on her legs I heard her say, "Do my butt."

I flipped the towel off her butt in record time, so excited I poured to much oil onto her skin.

I placed my palms on her warm ass and kept them there without moving.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"It's a technique I call 'Blessing the butt,'" I said, quickly beginning to massage her bum.

From time to time, I pulled her ass cheeks slightly apart and peered at her pink butthole.

"What are you doing?" she asked again after I'd parted the lobes of her buttocks for longer than was necessary.

"Er..." My mind couldn't conjure something fast enough this time.

"Quit fooling around and stick your finger in me," she said huskily, a touch of excitement in her voice.

My middle finger zigzagged up and down her slit until I found her entrance. She was a tight fit and my cock jerked in my shorts in anticipation of what lay ahead.

I brushed her wrinkled starfish with my thumb as I finger-fucked her. As she got wetter, she spread her legs wider. When she came, I leaned over and licked her juices off her cunt.

She sat up on the table, her cheeks flushed with excitement, her lips moist and parted. She reached up with her hands and pulled me down to her. We kissed slowly, then as we heated up, our tongues became wilder. I loved the way she tasted sans the cigarette-smokey taste.

We came up for air, panting. After catching my breath, I went for her breasts. She had small tits with unusually long nipples. I admired them briefly, rolling them between my fingers before sucking on them, one after the other.

She pushed me away after a while.

"That was a very unique massage," she said, getting off the table. I was only partially listening. I only had eyes for her nipples and I wished she would let me go back to sucking on them.

"Thanks," I said.

"For someone who's never given a massage, you do know how to make a woman feel good," she said to me and I wondered how she had known.

"Aren't you a tad overdressed?" she asked, then without waiting for a reply. "Let's get your clothes off and I'll show you how we masseuses do it."

I took off my t-shirt and stepped out of my shorts. Somehow, I knew I was going to get a massage I would remember for a very long time.

Restrained II: The Exhibition

She stood a little distance in front of him. He wished she had given one of his hands a little leeway. He'd have gotten himself off just by watching her disrobe.

She unwrapped the sari slowly and carefully and when it finally came off he waited for her to take off her choli. Instead, she stood there looking down at him.

"Why did you stop?" he asked impatiently.

"I said I was only going to take off my sari," she replied demurely.

"Well, take everything off," he said.

He licked his dry lips with anticipation, his hungry eyes following the elimination of her choli, then her pavada. When she took off her bra he asked her to stop.

She had the pert, upturned breasts he would have expected on a twenty year old body. Her dark, unusually long nipples stood proudly at attention. His mouth watered as he thought of the hours he'd have loved to spend just sucking on them.

"Let's see what you've got down there," he drawled.

She rolled her panties down her legs and stepped out of them. Unlike most Indian women, she didn't have a full bush. She had shaved her mound down to a smooth, crisp, landing strip that tapered as it approached the beginnings of her cunt lips.

"Alright, lean a little back with your legs slightly apart," he ordered. "I'd like you to stick a finger in your cunt."

"What's cunt?" she appeared confused.

"Your choot," he prompted.

He watched her finger slide completely into her body and without being prompted, slide some distance out completely covered in shiny fluid. He was so mesmerized that for a while he didn't give any commands as she masturbated. When she began to moan and twiddle her clit, her eyes closed as if she were in rapture, he debated within himself whether to let her come or to prolong her misery. Looking down at his hard, precum-oozing cock, he made his decision.

"Stop!" he called out.

Her hand stopped moving and she looked at him with what could have been the look on his face when she teased him. He countered her glowering by sticking out his tongue.

"Turn around," he said. She backed him and he checked out her smooth derriere. Not too big, not too flat. again, he wished he wasn't bound. he'd have fondled her ass cheeks and pulled them apart and...

"Bend over," he said. "Spread your ass for me."

When she bent over and pulled her butt cheeks apart, his cock twitched involuntarily. His eyes lingered briefly on the moisture on her thighs then moved up. Her dark pussy lips extended to her anus where they simply ceased to exist.

His eyes settled on her dark brown rosebud, the object of his quest. He wondered if she knew he wasn't exactly admiring her rear view. The wrinkly, slightly sweaty orifice winked slightly as she breathed slowly. He looked down at his cock which was by now bathed in sticky precum. He was so hard it was beginning to hurt.

"Can you stick a finger in your ass for me?" As soon as the words left his mouth he knew he had made a mistake. She stiffened, her hands dropped and she turned to face him.

"Do I look like a..." she began.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he cut her off. "But I didn't make the rules."

"That's true," she stuck a finger in her mouth, pretending to think. "But since you've done something I don't like I'm going to fuck you."

"What!" he couldn't believe his ears. "You should have told me this long ago."

She simply smiled as she slipped a condom on his penis and sat astride him. The virginal tits were finally his. He sucked on her nipples while she rode him , almost losing all feeling in his loins as he concentrated on his suckling.

Suddenly she had her hands around him and was squeezing him for all her worth. He was a bit alarmed until he felt her quim convulse around his dick.

When she was done cumming, her grip loosened and she stopped moving. She got off him and turned around to climb him reverse-cowgirl. This time she wasn't as slow as she had been before. Her ass rubbing against his abdomen as she bounced up and down his cock, it was hard not to come. She moaned as she climaxed with him, coming to a halt when they both ended.

She remained in his lap and they caught their breath.

"Can I go now?" he asked.

"Not until Ahmad and Khashif have worked on you," she replied.

It was his turn to stiffen.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Mr Lone," she leaned back, resting the back of her head on his shoulder. "We can't take you across the border looking like this. You need a new identity as well as a new face. They're very good at making my agents up."

It took a while for realization to dawn on him. He had just fucked his controller.

"I thought Agent Prajit was a man!" he exclaimed.

"Apparently not," she replied. "By the way, your Urdu sucks -- as you Americans would put it."

"I know," he admitted sheepishly. "I only learnt the dirty words."

She climbed off him and untied his bonds.

"You'd better get dressed before Ahmad and Khashif come in," she instructed, still managing to sound professional whilst naked.

"I will," he said. "I will..."

Longlasting Erection

The males among our species have been bested by a reptile -- a week-long erection and two dicks certainly is something the ladies would love to investigate.

I'm still working on the second part of Restrained. What I have here is a bit anticlimatic so I'm brushing it up. Again, let's hope tonight is the night I'm not too lazy to put it up.

Restrained

He took off his cuff links and rolled up his sleeves. The contact hadn't shown up yet and he was beginning to get nervous. He looked around without appearing to do so.

Henri had only been one week in India. All around him people were talking in Hindi, Urdu and whatever other blasted languages they spoke. He glanced at his watch again. Agent Prajit had promised to turn up by 6:00pm. He'd been waiting for close to thirty minutes. He wondered if this was how the agency ran business in India.

He summoned a passing waiter and told him to cancel his order and bring him his bill. The waiter returned a few minutes later, a look of awe on his face.

"Someone say she want to have dinner with you," he bowed.

"I'm sorry Monsieur but I've got business to attend to," Henri said. "Now if you'll tell me what my bill is..."

"She have already pay for your drink," the waiter said. He inclined his head slightly, almost imperceptibly, indicating a corner of the restaurant.

She was in a bright green sari, smiling slightly at him. He jerked his gaze away and counted out some rupees onto the table.

"Give these to her," he said. "I don't have time for chodna tonight."

He headed for the toilet leaving the waiter standing open mouthed at the table he had vacated.

When he had relieved himself, he looked in the drop point but couldn't find anything. He walked out of the restaurant and headed for his car.

The lady in the green sari was sitting on the hood of his car, examining herself nonchalantly in a mirror. The hem of her sari rode up her thigh and he had to remind himself that light brown flesh wasn't something he ought to be admiring at this place and time. She turned to face him, one of those fuck-me-now pouts on her lips.

"Why didn't you have dinner with me?" she placed her hand on his chest. Her English was surprisingly good and she had just a faint accent.

"I'm sorry," he shrugged her hand off. "I need to be off somewhere. I'm assuming the money the waiter gave you was more than enough to cover what you'd make in five busy nights?"

"What?" she was no longer pouting.

"Get off the hood of my car," he said, impatient. Prajit must have been blown. Logically, the cartel would be onto him. He wondered how much time he had left.

Her face went hard and she called out something in Urdu. Two sinister looking turbaned men appeared and took hold of him.

"Hey!" he protested. One of them hit him over the head and he passed out.

When he came to, he was strapped in a chair. His tie was gone, his shirt was unbuttoned all the way down and he was missing his shoes. He struggled uselessly against his bonds until he was sure they weren't loose before he began to take in his surroundings.

He was in the center of a large room -- ornately furnished and well-lit. The curtains at the entrance were drawn and he considered himself judged restrained by his captors. He looked quickly around for a sharp edge he could manoeuvre his chair to.

The curtains parted and someone stepped in. It was the lady in the sari. She had her hands behind her back and walked with her chest stuck out in a provocative way. He couldn't believe he was getting hard when the future of his country rested on him not being here at this moment.

"You've got an impressive penis, Mr Henri," she stuck out her tongue, He followed her gaze and noted with embarrassment that the crotch of his trousers was elevated by his erection.

"I thought I paid you?" he asked.

"Not in kind," she reached him, then knelt in front of him and unzipped his trousers.

"When you're invited to eat with a minister's daughter you'd better be polite," she said, reaching inside his trousers and pulling his cock out. This was beginning to look like something straight out of a certain demented professor's erotic fantasies.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I'm doing what you paid me for," she replied as she stroked him.

"Wait!" he protested. "I'm sorry about what happened this evening. I didn't mean to insult you.. argggghhhh..."

His cock was in her mouth and she was sucking him, her head oscillating up and down his shaft. God, he wanted to cum. He wanted to fill her mouth with his seed. He clenched his jaw as he prepared to ejaculate.

Abruptly, she stopped and got to her feet.

"You chose to fuck with the wrong person," she said, stepping back. "We're going to play a game."

He was looking at her with pure, undisguised anger. His balls were still tingling from wanting to come. If she had even blown air lightly on his cock he would have come -- the urgency was that much.

"These are the rules," she walked around him. "In two minutes I'm going to take off my sari. You're going to be free to tell me whatever you want me to do here, excluding anything that'll bring us in contact -- or set you free. When we're done Ahmad and Khashif will work on you."

At the back of his mind, a plan was forming. If he couldn't get away from this rich lunatic, he could at least enjoy himself.

"I'm ready," he said.

Playing the Shawna Game II: Consummation

I would have loved to keep kissing her forever if she had let me.

My hardened cock pushed up between her ass cheeks and her weight began to tell on me. I adjusted her carefully in my lap and moved my hands back to her hits. I squeezed them gently, my thumbs flicking over the taut nipples. She moaned hungrily into my mouth as our tongues tangoed. Damn, she could kiss like hell! I moved my hands to her back and was tracing a line down her back when the doorbell rang.

She swore as she gathered her t-shirt and bra and fled to the bedroom. I adjusted my trousers and went to answer the door. It was a delivery. I took the package, tipped the delivery boy and made my way to the bedroom.

I stopped in the doorway, mesmerized. Shawna was lying naked on her side facing the mirror with her back to me. The rear view was mouth watering, especially the way the full mauve lips of her pussy peeked out at me from the juncture of her ass and legs.

"Are you going to stand there drooling over my ass or are you going to drop that box and come over?" she asked without moving.

Our eyes met in the mirror. She smiled at me, then stuck out her tongue teasingly.

I dropped the package quickly and went to sit on the bed. I skimmed my hand over her smooth rump then leaning down, pulled her buttock upward and speared her cunt with my tongue. She moaned softly as I tongued her, my tongue flicking rapidly in and out of her.

She bucked her ass into my face and came. There's something about seeing a woman come from behind. I pulled back to enjoy the view, then leaned in to lap up her juices When her orgasm subsided, I licked up her back to her neck, savoring the salty, female taste of her.

She sat up and turned to face me. She fondled my member through my denims. I thought I would come any moment.

She stopped rubbing me and began to help me off with my clothes. My shirt, my jeans, then my boxers came off in seconds. When my circumcised nine-incher made it's appearance, I could see her eyes glimmer with anticipation.

She wrapped her hand around my stiff cock and began to masturbate me. I moved my hips to her tempo, fucking her hand as she jerked me off. She stopped and got on her knees in front of me.

She licked the precum off the tip of my penis and looked up at me, licking her lips teasingly. When she swallowed me whole I leaned back slightly to enjoy. She began to move, making the bed shake under me.

I doubt she would have thought of sucking me off if she knew how close I was to coming, and that I hadn't gotten laid in months. In less than a minute I was hitting the back of her throat with hot jism. She sputtered on my cock as the cum rolled out of her mouth but I've got to give it to her -- she simply kept going until she had it all out, then dashed to the bathroom.

When I reached her, she was bent over the sink gargling. Talk about a turnoff.

I placed my hands on her shoulder and asked, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, still gargling. I rubbed her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"That's okay," she turned from the sink. "You hit me with a super load back there."

I cupped her bottom and lifted her off the floor onto my shoulder. She giggled as I took her back to the bedroom and deposited her on the bed.

"What's funny?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said. "I just got freaked out when I suddenly had my mouth full."

I shrugged and made her lie across my lap. When I parted the lobes of her butt she stiffened slightly.

"What're you doing?" she asked.

"Just looking," I replied as I spread them even further, exposing her asshole.

"Are you a freak or something?" she asked when I stroked her anus with my index finger.

"Do you want me to stop?" I asked.

She was silent for a while then said, "No. It just feels weird -- and naughty..."

I've never been able to explain my fascination with women's bum holes. It might be the exclusive feeling that comes from looking at such a private region, or the look on a woman's face while I play with her butthole. And I think the wrinkles are adorable. Gosh I'm crazy!

So there we were, Shawna giggling like a schoolgirl and squirming in my lap as I tickled her asshole, her inhibitions completely gone. I was beginning to get hard again. I leaned over and kissed her neck before I made her sit up.

From there she took charge. She pushed me onto the bed and straddled my cock, holding my arms down as she impaled herself on my shaft. She was super tight and we took some time to get me in.

When she had me buried to the hilt in her, she ground her clit against the base of my cock , then began to move -- slowly at first, then as she got wetter, she increased her tempo while still holding me down. Soon the bed was creaking as she fucked me wildly.

She came once but kept going like a wild animal. I was beginning to lose my breath as she attacked me with her cunt. This was fucking. This was furious fucking. I loved it.

There was that tingling sensation in my cock and then I was emptying my spunk into her as she came. She kept moving, decreasing her tempo until our orgasms subsided before collapsing on me, finally releasing my hands.

I stroked her hair while we caught our breaths.

"Tell me, have I ever been an object of your fantasy?" she asked.

"No," I replied.

She lifted her head off my chest to give me one of those searching looks.

"Liar!" she said finally. We laughed...

Playing the Shawna Game

Recently, one of my readers told me she'd like to see longer posts. I'm assuming this is because, unlike most erotica writers, I try to develop a storyline, eliminating [most of] the repetitiveness and most of the time keep things as realistic as possible (see As It Is). While trying to do some 'character development' I came up with a long post (which I still haven't finished, by the way). I hope you don't get too bored.

___________________________________________________

Ken executed a flawless Kuzuuryu Reppa against Garuda, ending in a knockout.

I dropped the joystick and wiped off the sheen of perspiration that had formed on my face. For the first time ever, I'd beaten Garuda on 'Hard' in Streetfighter Ex3 Plus, and that is no walkover, if I may say.

The doorbell rang. I got off the floor and went to answer the door. It was Shawna.

For a while we stood staring at each other, then she stood on tiptoe and planted a light, effusive kiss on my lips.

"You look good," she said.

I looked down at my ragged jeans with the knee-holes, and then at my feet with the long, broken toenails. We both laughed.

"Come in," I said, taking her coat.

She sat in the love seat facing the television.

"Can I get you a drink?" I asked.

"Just water," she replied, as I knew she would. Ever since I've known her, she's been one of those health nuts who don't drink anything except water or freshly squeezed un-genetically modified fruit juice.

I got a bottle of spring water from the fridge and a glass from the kitchen. On my way back I put on my shirt.

I joined her on the love seat and watched her as she held the glass up to the light before drinking from it. I could tell she was slightly troubled.

"So for two months I try to call you and you keep hanging up on me. Suddenly, you turn up on my doorstep..." I blurted out. Oops, I hadn't exactly meant to let it out that way. Oops!

"I'm sorry," I said.

"I should be apologizing," she said gently, trying to smile. "I'm sorry."

"Oh no no, that's okay," I said. "How's Mark?"

Her face clouded over.

"That bad?" I asked. She nodded.

"You split up?" she nodded again, and I put two and two together.

"When you broke up with him you didn't want to talk to anyone," I stated unnecessarily. She nodded once more.

"Oh, baby, I'm awfully sorry," I put my arm around her and pulled her to me. She rested her head on my shoulder.

"You could have talked to me," I said. "I'm always here."

"I know," she whispered.

After a while she pulled away. She seemed to be handling it well.

I picked my joystick and reset the game.

"Are you up for a game?" I asked.

"Sure," she placed the glass carefully on the side stool and picked the second joystick.

We chose our fighting characters and soon I was pommelling her character without mercy.

"Where do you live now?" I let her character hit mine a couple of times.

"I'll write down the address when I'm leaving," she replied.

I went into Excel and executed a flurry of combos.

"That's not fair," she protested. I grinned.

"You know, when I was a greenhorn like you..." I began. She rolled her eyes at me. "When I was a greenhorn like you, I beat a lot of experienced guys by 'rubbing.'"

"How do you do that?" she asked.

"It's simple. You place your joystick under your shirt and glide your thumbs over the controls," I explained.

"How?" she asked again.

I took her joystick from her and snuck my hand under her t-shirt. My fingers grazed her breasts and I withdrew my hand as quickly as I'd have done if I'd touched live coals.

"I-I'm sorry," I stammered, embarrassed.

"That's okay," she smiled at me. "It's not like you haven't touched them before, remember?"

We'd been friends since childhood, growing up next door to each other. I'd defended her against some of the other bullies in the street since I was five and her mom used to call me her little boyfriend, which made Shawna jealous.

When she started to grow breasts, she would tell me about the pain, and show them to me. I would feel them, making remarks about how much bigger they'd grown since the last time.

It had all been innocent play -- nothing overtly sexual -- until her father barged in on us one day. The rage on his face terrified me and I was more than happy to get away when he ordered me to leave and never talk to his daughter again.

Her mother had given her a lecture, then pleaded with her father on my behalf. The boob play had stopped, and we hadn't been allowed to meet in our usual hideout anymore.


I looked away from her, as embarrassed as I could be. I heard her unclasp her bra and when I turned to her, she had lifted the hem of her shirt and I was staring at the twins. Something stirred in my jeans.

"They're bigger now," she said. "Go on, touch them..."

I took the soft globes in my hands and felt them the way I had ten years before. Was it just me, or were her nipples erect? I pulled away.

"I don't think this is a good idea," I said.

"What isn't good about it?" she was still holding her shirt up and there was no doubt about it now -- her nipples were hard. "You're afraid you'll be tempted to fuck me. That's it, isn't it?'

Shawna was always the one to put things a little too candidly.

"Yes," I admitted.

"What's wrong with that?" she asked. She scuttled her butt over until her face was mere centimeters from mine.

"I don't want to hurt you," I said. "I don't want to make you feel like this will help you get over Mark."

She had this hurt look on her face and I knew I was partly right.

Our gazes were locked and we breathed slowly. I loved the feel of her breath on my face.

Her next move took me completely by surprise.

"Screw Mark," she said, taking her top off and plopping her ripe bottom in my lap.

"I'm going to have you whether you want it or not," she said huskily.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed. Her lips clamped down on mine, silencing my protests.

I really didn't have any choice did I? I accepted her tongue into my mouth and reached for her tits, this time showing none of my earlier reserve.

Let's hope I get around to writing the real 'fucking session' after this.