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.

Le Bibliothécaire

The library was becoming less busy. The only people we ever got were the old, bookish professors doing research. Young kids didn't read anymore and I was sure they never would -- at least not until video games become extinct.

My nose was buried in a Zane novel, and I was enjoying the scene so well I didn't notice him come in and stop in front of my desk.

He coughed discreetly and I looked up sharply, a little annoyed at being interrupted, scared perhaps that it was my boss and he had caught me reading Zane. My feelings of animosity melted away when our eyes met.

'Hi,' he said shyly.

'Hello,' I nudged my glasses up a bit. 'I'm Marsha O'Donnell. How may I help you?'

'Um...' he scratched at the stubble under his chin. 'I'm looking for a book called Riders of the Purple Sage.'

'Riders of the Purple Sage,' I repeated mechanically, checking out his features. He couldn't have been more than 24, all of 6ft 3, and the boyish grin had a certain charm to it. Final verdict -- gorgeous.

'It's by a writer called Zane,' he continued. 'I've spent two hours looking for a Z-section.'

'There's no Z-section in the Library of Congress cataloging system,' I informed him as I put the keywords into my computer. 'There you are, Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey.'

I scribbled the call number on a piece of paper and handed it to him.

'How do I find it?' he asked, still looking confused. That was when I noticed the accent.

'Mr...' I prompted.

'Professor Cohan,' he corrected.

'I'm sorry,' I gushed. 'You look too young to be one... I mean, I've never met one this young. I'd never have guessed...'

'That's okay,' he reassured me gently. 'I'm sure you were wondering why a professor couldn't find his way in a library. You Americans don't exactly use the same cataloging systems as the British.'

'You're British?'

'Irish,' he replied. 'If you're not married, I'd say you've got some Irish blood on your father's side...'

My face tightened when he mentioned my father and his voice trailed off.

'Here,' I interrupted him, snatching the paper from him. 'Let's go find your book.'

Together we headed for the P shelves. The P shelves are almost always the largest section of every library (if you leave out the newspapers and journals) as they contain Language and Literature.

We spent a while looking for the catalog number probably because I wanted to spend some time with him. I finally 'located' the book.

I never realized how close he was to me until I bent to pick the book. My ass brushed against something hard. I heard him suck in his breath. For a moment we didn't move or speak. I swiped my ass against his crotch again, and he let out a low groan.

Suddenly, the pressure against my bum was gone. Before I could turn around to find out why, I felt the cool air from the air conditioner fan my thighs as he flipped my skirt over my back.

He rolled my panties down and began to plant soft, feathery kisses all over my ass. I felt my cheeks being spread. The cold air hit my sweaty asshole and I cried out as his tongue plunged into my honeywell.

Riders of the Purple Sage tumbled to the floor. I moved my hands behind me to help hi spread the lobes of my buttocks, moaning as his playful tongue flicked in and out of my cunt.

I shut my eyes, allowing myself to enjoy his pleasuring. His tongue moved up, hesitated, then moved up again.

'No,' I whispered as his tongue lapped at my rosebud. 'No!'

He kept at it and my pleas gradually weakened until I fell silent, listening to the slurping sounds as his tongue swabbed my anus, enjoying the incredibly nasty feeling that came with doing something so naughty. For a moment, his tongue left me, and then his finger jabbed in sending a massive shock wave through me. I grabbed the shelf for support as my orgasm hit, biting on my lower lip to stifle a cry as the waves of pleasure washed over me.

I straightened up and when I turned around, he already had his trousers down and his cock sticking out of his shirt tails. His dick was average, but the balls were something else -- huge and covered with hair. I got down on my knees and stroked his cock slowly, licking on the underside before taking him into my mouth.

His nuts wouldn't fit in my small hand so I contented myself with rubbing them gently. After a minute he held my head away from him, stopping me in mid stroke. He pulled his cock out slowly and I could tell he had been about to come.

'Condom?' he asked, then realized how silly the question was.

Before I could say Jack Robinson he had me bent over touching my toes as he slammed me for all his worth. My glasses kept dropping to the end of my nose and I kept nudging them up. I took them off and was about to drop them on the shelf when he stopped me.

'Leave them on,' he said.

I put them back on and he turned me around, entering me from the front.

'Someone's coming,' he whispered in my ear.

A thrill shot through me and I held on tight to him. Within seconds he had me coming and then quickly pulled out.

'Get dressed,' he whispered urgently, stopping to pick his trousers. I saw his cock jerk once, twice, shooting his come all over the floor and the books on the bottom row as he worked his trousers up his legs.

The footsteps were closer now. I quickly yanked up my panties and let my skirt fall in place, then picked up Riders of the Purple Sage and handed it to him.

'Thank you Marsha,' he said, giving my bum a squeeze and then he was gone. I never saw him again.

Kenyan Beauty

Thanks to everyone for reading, and waiting. I've had a few problems I had to deal with in the last few weeks and they apparently dampened my imagination. I'm back and I hope you'll continue to read the stories that can only be found here at Carpe Nostrum.

"Do you want to come up?" I asked.

Chanya hesitated, chewing on her fleshy lowerlip. I leaned on the door frame, smiling down at her, waiting for her to make a decision.

"The party's not until ten," I urged. "And I'm doing some cooking."

"Kamau?" she asked.

If her brother found out there was going to be hell. Kamau was my best friend and the biggest playboy in town. Surprisingly, when it came to his sister he was very protective.

"Kamau is my friend," I replied. "It's not as if we're going to do anything -- he knows I won't take advantage of you. We'll eat and watch a movie or two until it's time for the party."

My excuse sounded lame to me but it must have worked. She flashed me a smile and came up the stairs. I busied her with a drink and one of the chicklit novels my ex-girlfriend had left behind, then walked into the kitchen.

It was hot and the air conditioning was faulty. I made a mental note to notify my landlady when she came for the rent. I took off my shirt and was chopping some carrots while the meat boiled when she walked in. She moved silently, the smell of her perfume getting stronger as she approached me. I kept working, pretending to be oblivious to her presence.

She squeezed my shoulders from behind and I gave them a convincing jerk, then relaxed.

"Smells good," she said. "Most men I know can't cook -- even Kamau."

"Well, I was the only boy in the family. I spent all my time in the kitchen with my sisters and..." her cool, slender fingers had moved around me. She stroked my chest, then moved down to rub my six-pack.

"Go on," she leaned on me. I could feel her hard nipples through her blouse as she rubbed her breasts on my back.

"I was petted by my sisters, as the youngest in the family," I resumed, conscious of my jeans tightening at the crotch as I got aroused. Being in the kitchen, munching on bits and pieces of what was being cooked, I naturally learned how to cook. Anyway... ah!" she had unbuttoned the top of my jeans and unzipped it, taking out my semi-hard cock.

"Is something wrong?" she asked sweetly.

"Of course not," I tried unsuccessfully to match her tone. She picked a jar of mayonnaise off the shelf directly over my head. I focused on carefully cutting the carrots, trying not to cut myself as she coated my fully erect cock and began to stroke up and down my shaft.

"Careful," I warned. "You don't want me cumming all over the carrots."

She stood on tiptoe and bit my ear. I yelped when she stretched my earlobe with her teeth. She released it.

"Shut up," she said, continuing to jerk me off. I dropped the knife in the sink and lifted my hands above my head, giving her room. I moved my hips to her tempo, fucking her hand.

She reached between my legs with her free hand and cupped my balls. There was a familiar tingling sensation at the base of my cock and before I could warn her I shot my seed all over the sink and the carrots. She released me and came round to survey her handiwork.

"You naughty girl," I admonished lightly. I cupped the swell of her soft but firm ass. She wiggled her hips, rubbing her ass against my hand. "Now we can't eat the carrots."

Chanya calmly picked one of the cum-covered carrots and munched on it.

"Well?" she asked, turning to me, arms akimbo.

I tilted her face upward and we kissed. Placing my hands on her bum, I pulled her closer.

The feel of her soft breasts rubbing against my chest brought my flaccid penis to life. With a will o fits own, it swung upward until it was poking against her.

I pulled way and stepped out of my encumbering jeans. I pulled her to me again and began to take off her clothes, starting with her blouse. The bra she was wearing had holes through which her puffy, dark nipples poked. Little wonder I could feel them.

I unhooked the clasps of her bra and dumped it unceremoniously on the kitchen floor. I held both tits reverently, palming her nipples. When I took a nipple in my mouth, she let out an almost imperceptible sigh. I flicked my tongue around the hard bud, getting almost pleasure from pleasuring her as she got from being pleasured.

I knelt down on the floor and kissed her abdomen. I sucked briefly on her belly button and she giggled feverishly, trying half-heartedly to push my head away, yet enjoying the tickling sensation. As I played with her, I unzipped her skirt and let it fall in a puddle at her feet. I left off playing with her navel and leaned back as I tugged her panties down to reveal her landing strip.

There was a lot of moisture around her slit and her thighs were wet. She parted her legs automatically and I lapped at her entrance, seeking her clit with my tongue. When I found it, she came, as if on cue, her fluid pouring out like a deluge, hitting my tongue, chin and the floor. I held her bottom to steady her until the convulsions ceased.

When I rose to my feet her eyes were closed. I kissed her gently and she opened them.

"That was fantastic," she murmured. Her eyes opened wide and she let out a gasp when I drove my cock into her. I lifted her off the ground and moved her up and down my cock, while she had her hands around her neck and clung to me for dear life. I slammed her hard enjoying the wobble of her breasts on my chest and the way her breath got knocked out with each thrust.

I could tell she was on the brink of orgasm when her cunt tightened around me. She held me tighter as her juices gushed onto my cock. With a low growl, I came, covering her sugar walls with my spunk.

We spent a while catching our breaths, then we were at it again, fucking in every possible position. After what must have been her hundredth orgasm and my fifth, we slumped on the floor.

I looked up at the clock.

"We're never going to make it," I said tiredly.

"We can always..." she reached for my sore cock.

"The rice's burning," I pushed her hand away.

"Who cares?" she asked. She grabbed at me again...