Objection

Judge Patakis pretended to think. I let my gaze travel towards the defense. Not surprisingly, Jackson was looking my way, a very big smile on his stupid face -- he had successfully broken my rhythm and he knew it.

"Objection overruled," the judge intoned. "Please answer the question Mr Korede."

"I don't remember," the witness said.

Great. Jackson looked pissed. He leaned over and whispered something into his assistant's ear.

"In other words, it is likely you were in the room when the stabbing took place," the witness refused to meet my gaze.

"Yes," said Mr Korede before Jackson could raise an objection.

"I have no further questions, Your Honor," I said, walking away from the stand.

We had closed for the day. I was rearranging my papers when out of the corner of my eye, I saw him make his way towards me. My papers were tidy enough but I continued to pretend to be engrossed in shuffling them, with what I hoped was a forbidden frown on my lips.

"Good job today, Miss Olamide," he mangled my name horrily and I wondered if it was intentional.

"Thank you," I said without looking up.

He remained standing in front of me, waiting patiently. I kept him within the bounds of politeness, looking up only when he began to show signs of impatience.

"I was actually going to ask you out to dinner," that stupid grin again.

I eyed him briefly, looked down at my paperwork, then eyed him some more.

"I'm busy," I said with a tone of finality. "I have some catching up to do with my client at the hospital."

His forehead furrowed slightly. He shrugged and said, "Whatever you say."

I had hardly gone back to stuffing my briefcase when he rapped sharply on my desk, startling me.

"You didn't think I was going to give up now, did you, Miss Olamide?"

"Olumide," I corrected sharply. He almost recoiled.

"I'm sorry," I said more gently. "I've been stressed out lately."

"Tell me about it," he grinned. "Would you like to go for a quick drink instead?"

"You'll have to pick me up when I'm done with my client."

"Sure thing," he said. His gaze travelled down to my cleavage. I rapped sharply on the desk, getting him to jerk his gaze back up.

"I'll see you then," he was headed towards his assistant before I could reply.

"Jerk," I muttered, wondering why I'd agreed to go out with him.

He picked me up at the agreed time. We had dinner in a rooftop restaurant overlooking the bay. The stress from the trial and Jackson subtly topping my glass every time it got halfway meant I ended up quite drunk I had no idea when he drove me home and laid me down on the sofa.

In my drunken state, I pulled him down with me. We kissed sloppily, our hands over each other. He must have assumed I was completely pliant because the next thing I felt was something huge prodding at me just below my tailbone.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I asked.

"It's not going to hurt, I promise," he said huskily. Jesus, the gall some guys have in thinking they can slip something into your asshole without you noticing.

"Of course it's going to hurt," I said.

"No, it won't," he pushed harder, almost pinning me down with his weight.

I slipped out from under him.

I stood glaring angrily at him.

"I'm sorry," he said.

We made some corrections, then completed the deed using the right hole.
________________________________________________

I woke up first, some of the memories of the night before coming back to me. Some impulse made me tie his hands to the bed post with the sheets which had come untangled during our love- making.

I remembered the present my college roommate had gotten me as a joke for my birthday. I went into the room to retrieve it, putting it on and walking back into the living room.

Jackson was awake, struggling uselessly against his bonds. He stopped when he saw what I had on.

A strapon had never looked so intimidating.

"What are you going to do with that?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

"It's not going to hurt, I promise," I repeated his words from last night.

His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, as I held onto my pseudo-penis, stroking it provocatively.

"No.." he said."No..."

I moved towards him. His eyes were now nearly white, and he looked so comical I almost burst out laughing.

I untied him and he scrambled quickly away.

"Now how do you think I felt last night?" I asked him.

He didn't answer me. Instead, he went into the bathroom to take a shower, emerging fully dressed.

I walked him to the door, careful not to set off the rage he was desperately holding in. He was going to make this case personal, doing anything necessary in order to win.

"You big idiot," I said softly to myself...

The Nun

I woke up sometime in the middle of the night to find my companion's head resting on my shoulder. The nun looked serene, even in sleep and I couldn't help feeling I would be committing some sacrilege if I woke her up.

Her head rolled off my shoulder and when I caught her with my left arm, I discovered she was well-endowed under the black habit.

She stirred as I set her aright, stifling a sultry yawn.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"About halfway into our journey," I said. "Did you get a good sleep, Sister?"

"Please call me Elektra," she said, straightening her gown.

"Sister... Elektra," I conceded.

"We're not that unfamiliar," she said slyly. "You've touched my breasts, haven't you?"

The way she said the words so contrasted with her pious demeanor that I was startled. For a long time, I've been attracted to innocent-looking ladies who act differently than they look. The difference in appearance and behavior is about the biggest turn-on I know.

"But..." I protested, gathering my wits.

"No buts," she placed a finger on my lips. It apparently served a second purpose, other than to shut me up, because she ran the tip over my lips suggestively. I opened my mouth and sucked her finger in.

It was as delicate as her features, cool, and slightly salty. She made a small movement, and before I knew it, was in my lap. We both knew where this was headed -- that is, unless one of us said 'No.' We stared at each other, daring the other with our eyes to make the first move.

Elektra was Greek, and I put her to be about thirty. She had high cheekbones with dimples on both cheeks, the combination of which managed to draw attention away from her full lips. Earlier, when her breasts were squashed against my arm, I had made them out to be pear shaped. If she had a bra on, she had to possess a very prominent set of nipples. The rest of her body was hidden under her gown, but I hoped it was better than I imagined it to be.

I pulled her down and kissed her. She responded so enthusiastically that I momentarily wondered if she was actually a nun. She leaned in to me so that I felt her breasts against my chest. Her tongue was wild and wet, the inside of her mouth warm and mysterious. I cupped her ass cheeks in both hands and squeezed them against each other.

My curiosity got the better of me, so I lifted her off onto the seat and got down on my knees in front of her. I had her lift the hem of her gown to her chest, exposing her white cotton panties.

The base of her panties was wet, clearly outlining the lips of her vulva. I put my mouth to her crotch and puffed air into her panties. She moaned pushing herself into my face.

When I peeled off her panties,I was greeted by the reddening mauve of her cunt. Her labia glistened with her juices. I spread them and found her swollen clit with my tongue. She locked my head with her thighs and I knew she wouldn't release me until she had cum. She finally did, flooding my face with her juices.

I got her to lift her legs above her head, exposing her most private part.

Her anus was considerably darker than the skin around it. The wrinkles were well defined and diverged quite some distance from where they originated. A single wrinkle was more prominent than the others and I found myself admiring it for a while.

Although her pussy was clean-shaven, there were a few blonde hairs growing around the rim of her asshole. I pulled gently on them and her rosebud winked appreciatively.

I wetted my finger in my mouth and rubbed it around her crack, just avoiding her pretty pucker. When I finally did get around to playing with it, she moaned, and I took some perverse pleasure in watching a nun's face in the throes of pleasure while I rubbed the most private part of her anatomy.

She must have been impatient with the amount of time I spent on proctological foreplay, because she brought her legs down and pushed me away.

We undressed rather quickly, and I entered her from behind. She was so tight, and it had been such a long time that I almost came the moment I entered her.

I had to restrain myself, moving slowly until I could bear it no more, then I was pounding her like a frenzied bull, hardly giving us time to take a breath. When I felt the familiar tingling and tightening of my cock in the moments before coming, I plunged a my forefinger all the way into her asshole, using the shock to trigger her climax.

I came long and hard, coming to rest with my chest on her back. We panted heavily, as our orgasms subsided.

"Elektra," I whispered.

"You finally called me by name, didn't you?" she whispered back, in between pants.

There was a knock on the compartment door.

"Tickets please!"

Clara

It wasn't that he had no idea where this was heading. He did have no idea how to handle things the way they were.

Clara was dressed a lot more provocatively than usual. From the outline of her nipples under her dress, it was easy to determine she had no bra on underneath. Her legs parted beyond the limits of modesty several times -- and every time he was treated to a vision of lacy white panties.

He was beginning to lose track of their conversation as he tried to will the devil in his pants into staying flaccid. Like most men's it had a mind of its own and John was beginning to lose the battle.

He pretended to look at his watch.

"Um... Clara," he cut in. "I have to get going."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I'm so sorry."

She spread her legs again, and against better judgment, his eyes traveled down. She snapped her legs quickly shut and grinned. It was now or never -- staying any longer would mean losing control.

He got to his feet and she rose from the sofa. At the door she clung to him, letting him know what he had missed by rubbing her breasts against his chest.

He had turned to leave when she asked quietly,"Is there something you hate about me?"

The question struck like an arrow shot into his back.

"Nn-nothing," he stammered.

"Liar," she said in the same quiet, accusing tone. She reached around him and found his crotch, massaging his penis through his shorts. It twitched slightly as it began to harden. "No matter what, this doesn't lie."

"Stop it," he said, without much conviction. HE felt her move up behind him, molding her body to his.

"You're a liar," she whispered huskily. "You lie to me and you're lying to yourself."

"I'm not lying," he said seriously. "I just didn't want to take advantage of the fact that I saved you back then."

She withdrew abruptly.

"Is that what you think about me?" her voice had gone cold. "Do you really think I'd throw myself at someone just because they saved me from being trussed up..."

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, turning to her. She threw herself suddenly into his arms.

"Actually," she whispered in his ear. "I'm throwing myself at you because of that. What's wrong with that?"

Without giving him time to reply, she fastened her lips to his, prying his mouth open with her tongue. Weeks and weeks of holding back finally got to him. He found himself placing wrapping both hands around her waist and carrying her into the house. He lay on the sofa with Clara on top and pushed her skirt up.

He could not see her bottom from the position he was in but his hands did, and they liked what they felt. Smooth and round --- not too flat, but not huge. He broke the kiss and used his hands to push her up to get access to her breasts.

She had the longest nipples he had ever seen and it occurred to him that even without being aroused, they would be visible with a bra. Taking one in his mouth, he sucked on it. She moaned her appreciation as he ascertained she liked it best when he had all of a nipple in his mouth, his tongue flicking the center of the very tip.

He tugged her panties down and found her core. Like her nipples, her clit was prominent enough for him to find. He pulled gently on it before sticking his finger into her. From her eager squirming, he knew she would soon want something longer and thicker.

He finger-fucked her for a while, then tentatively transferred his juice-coated fingers to the cleft of her buttocks. When he touched her anus, he expected her to flinch, or give some sort of warning. She welcomed him instead -- as if she had been waiting for him to do that -- sticking her ass out to give him better access.

He stroked around the rim of the slightly open pucker gently.

"Yeah," she moaned. "Play with my asshole..."

Encouraged as she made more dirty talk into his ear, he plunged his finger suddenly in, enjoying the instinctive tightening around his finger from the sudden shock.

She slid down his body and put his cock inside her. Her anus had loosened from his fingering, so he added a second finger. Now he could feel his shaft through the partition.

She began to move, timing her movements with the rhythm at which he thrust his fingers into her ass.

It look less than a minute for her to climax and he guessed she must have been more aroused aroused than he had. He waited for her orgasm to subside before moving her into the sixty-nine position.

She held his cock tenderly, stroking the sensitive area at the back. When her lips finally enveloped him, he would have come if she hadn't pinched the base of his cock. She swallowed all 8 inches of him and began to fellate him.

From his position, he had vantage view of all her private parts -- especially the brownish, wrinkly rosebud that was the most private part of her being. She must have felt him staring because she winked it at him a few times. He spread her cheeks completely apart, the better to study her. He flicked his tongue against it a few times, and she tensed. Obviously, this was an entirely new experience for her.

His attention was drawn by the familiar tingling sensation that started from his cock and spread throughout his entire body. He went rigid, shooting spurt after spurt of come down her throat. The pulsing of his dick seemed to go on forever as energy drained from him -- then it was over, the only sounds in the room from their heavy breathing.

After a while she began to stroke him, using his semen as a lubricant. His member stirred to life.

It occurred to him for the first time that this woman could make him do whatever she wanted.

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.