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This story is an historical fantasy based on an epoch in Spanish history. It’s also an entry in Literotica’s “One Night in XXX” event.

* * *

The Moorish Castle of Gormaz is a sprawling ruin now, but at the very beginning of the High Middle Ages it was the greatest fortress in Europe. From its vantage on a high ridge, the castle dominated the valley of the Rio Duero and the village below. For nearly a century, Moors and Christians battled over the fortress and the fertile lands it controlled.

* * *

The shadows were already long when sentries spotted the horsemen galloping up the Rio Duero to beat sunset to Gormaz. They gathered among the tile-roofed buildings in the empty village, and even in the fading light the sharp-eyed boys who watched from the castle towers could make out the crosses on their shields. The riders were Christian—at least they knew that much.

Men on the castle walls beat drums to call the last farmers from the fields while Falcona stood behind the parapet and watched the strangers mount the steep trail to the ridge-top castle’s Moorish gates. “Let them in, Iago” she said. She touched the Galician’s broad shoulder to turn him away. “There are nine. Greet them with twelve, and deliver their captain to me. The rest—give them dinner, get them drunk, and see what they have to say.”

Falcona turned her back to the sunset and her companions followed close behind. They walked the long walk along the parapet toward the fortress’s distant keep—just three small figures silhouetted against the darkening sky. The market was nearly empty, and the stables were growing quiet, but smoke rose from cooking fires in the soldier’s crowded camp and from the families who gathered around makeshift shelters.

They stopped where children’s voices from within the walls mixed with the clucks and bleats of the villagers’ livestock, and when a few more steps would hide their view of the gate. Falcona watched as the strangers led their mounts into the courtyard, and she spoke to the women with her. “Their livery is Alfonso’s,” she said. “I might as safely have sheltered Almanzor.”

Sister Madalena, the taller of the two women, stepped to Falcona’s side and said, “You know Señora, that there is no reward without risk.”

Knowledge would be Falcona’s reward. Her interests were in the movement of armies, the plans of kings and emperors, and the needs of the people. She glanced at Madalena. “What reward would you like?” she asked, and then waved the woman aside. She already knew what Madalena wanted. She didn’t need to say.

One man removed his helmet and separated himself from the others to face Iago. Falcona was too far from the gate to hear what they said, but she could see Iago push the captain ahead of him—more like a prisoner than a guest.

Sister Taresa—the second of Falcona’s companions—watched and then turned to Falcona. “Shouldn’t we be there before Iago delivers him?” she asked.

“We seem to have some time,” Falcona said as she watched the men approaching. The stranger made his way through the crowd as slowly as Iago allowed. It wasn’t the weight of his weapons and armor that slowed him. He took in as many details as he could, and Falcona read his every move and gesture. He estimated the size of the garrison and counted the guards; he counted the livestock and the villagers huddled within the enormous castle’s walls.

Falcona had seen enough. She turned east again along the top of the wall while twilight engulfed the broad valley far below them. The three women crossed over the little chapel where old Brother Esteban prayed, and they stopped where the shadows crept up the west wall of the keep.

Falcona’s standard had been her husband’s; it was red and blazoned with a single gold cross, and it fluttered in the last sunlight above the highest point in the fortress—above tile roof of the keep. Before they reached it, the women descended stairs to the ground and wound their way through the defenses into the heart of the castle—into the darkened alcazar.

The women waited at the top of the stairs that lead into the keep, and stewards brought torches and stood beside them. It wasn’t long before Iago pushed the captain into Falcona’s presence. The stranger gawked up at the high walls and towers that rose around him on all sides and didn’t notice her until Iago turned him to face the stairs, and then he caught his breath.

The Red Witch was as infamous for her powers as she was famous for her beauty. Falcona cultivated her fame because it drew allies to her, and she cultivated her infamy because it kept idle threats at bay.

“Mind your manners,” Iago said. He pushed the captain down on one knee at the foot of the stairs, and the stranger bowed to the lady of the castle.

Falcona drew herself up straight and asked, “Your name?” He let his eyes travel up her body. She was clad entirely in red with a silver girdle and bands of silver on her sleeves, and he looked away when his eyes met her icy gaze.

“I am Gascon de Perés y Hernandez,” kırklareli escort he said. “We engaged Almanzor at Burgos. He scattered our forces and sacked the city. I seek food and shelter for my men. We are at your mercy.”

“And what do you seek for yourself?” Falcona asked.

Gascon hadn’t expected her question, but he mustered as much bravado as he could. “For myself,” he said, “I ask only to bask in your beauty.”

Falcona ignored Gascon’s attempt at flattery. “Disarm him,” she told Iago. “See to his men and their horses, and Madalena will deliver him to the hall for dinner.”

Sister Taresa opened the door of the keep for Falcona, and followed her into the darkness. The smaller woman hurried to keep up with the witch’s long strides, and caught up with her on the steep stairs. “What do you make of this Gascon?” she asked.

“He’s a spy,” Falcona said. “I’ll find out why he’s here, and then you and Madalena can use him as you like.” She stopped only once she was in her room then turned on Taresa, “You want him too, don’t you?” she asked, and when Taresa nodded her answer Falcona said, “Tell me what you like more. Is it when the man takes your virginity, or when I restore it?”

Taresa watched Falcona without smiling. “Señora, as long as you grant us our redemption those two things are one. They are halves of a cycle, and we are your servants.”

Falcona turned away without acknowledging Taresa’s answer. A full moon burned orange as it rose above the eastern horizon, and its light fell through the arrow slit in the east wall of her chamber. It was enough for them to see while Falcona wrapped herself in a red cloak from her wardrobe.

The chest at the foot of Falcona’s bed held oils, salves and potions. She touched it and heard the lock inside click open. She slipped an alabaster vial from the chest into a hidden pocket in her cloak, and touched the chest again to lock it.

Taresa followed the witch into the great hall, where torches burned on the walls, and candles lit a dinner for two at one end of the long table. Madalena waited behind Gascon, the cook and her helpers labored around the fire pit, and stewards stood in the shadows waiting for a call.

Gascon had regained his confidence. He leaned over the table with his knees set wide apart, tore a handful of bread off a loaf and used it to scoop gravy from a bowl in the middle of the table. The captain sat back, grinned at Falcona, and belched his compliment. “The lamb is tender and well-salted,” he said, and washed it down with wine. “I hope my men are as well-fed.”

“I doubt they are,” the witch said, “but the wine will make up for it.” She took her seat across from Gascon as Taresa joined Madalena behind him. Both of the women watched with keen interest.

Falcona ate more slowly than Gascon, and she talked while she ate. “You said you engaged Almanzor at Burgos. Who were you fighting for? What came of you?”

“We fought for Gonzalez in the name of the Emperor—in the name of Alfonso—and for Jesus Cristo,” he said. “The Moors split our forces, and we had to retreat to the forest while they took the city.”

Falcona watched Gascon carefully. Shadows from the flickering firelight lined his face, but she could still read his expression. “What you describe happened two weeks ago,” she said. “The Count’s forces regrouped at San Esteban. Why aren’t you with them?”

Gascon hadn’t expected the woman to be informed, and he looked away to gather his thoughts before he answered. “We were a rear guard, and lost the main force before they reached San Esteban. We are trying to reach them now.”

Falcona didn’t believe his story. Neither Gascon nor his men looked like they’d been routed from battle and wandered in the forest. Their horses and their clothing were fresh.

“The Moors are retreating from Burgos as we speak,” she said. “They’re going south to stay ahead of winter. The army will have to cross the river, and the bridge by the village is their best route. I sheltered the villagers in the castle to keep them out of harms way, but are they really safe?” she asked.

Gascon didn’t answer her question. “How is it that you know so much?” he asked, and sat forward in his chair again.

“News travels to those who pay for it,” Falcona said. “And there are signal towers all around the valley. They sit on every hill. No-one moves within miles of the castle without us knowing about them.”

“Is that how a woman controls the strongest fortress in all of Léon and Al-Andalus?” Gascon asked, and the Red Witch’s laugh sent a chill up his spine.

“My husband took the fortress from the Moors,” she said, “but he died from his wounds, and Gormaz fell to me. No man since has been able to take it from me, and no man will.

“Knowledge is a more powerful defense than the castle’s walls. You and your men are valuable to me only because of what you might be able to tell me. So tell me, Perés y Hernandez, who is it that I have to defend my afyon escort castle from this time? Is it the Moors, or is it your Emperor?” Falcona watched Gascon set his jaw, and decided that she’d played his game long enough.

Gascon saw the change in Falcona without knowing what it was, and he took the opportunity to ask a question of his own. He reached back without looking and pulled Madalena forward by the skirt of her tunic. She lurched ahead to stand beside him. “You’re wealthy and powerful,” he said. “Why are your handmaiden’s dressed no better than peasants?”

Falcona watched Gascon slide his hand up under Madalena’s cape and pat her butt through her tunic. Madalena flinched and started to step away, but she stopped with a distracted expression and let Gascon’s rough hand roam her thighs.

Taresa and Madalena were clothed like peasants. Each of them wore a brown tunic tied at the waist with a brown sash, a brown cape pinned around their shoulders, and a plain white headscarf to cover their head.

“Taresa and Madalena aren’t my handmaiden’s” Falcona said. “They’re religiosas. Taresa was hardly old enough to walk, and Madalena was only a little older, when the hand of God delivered them to the shrine by the village. At least that’s what people believed. They grew up under Brother Esteban’s tutelage, and they’ve taken vows of servitude.”

She smiled at the sudden change in Gascon’s expression. “Taresa and Madalena serve God by serving the villagers, and they serve me as well, but be careful where you put your hand, Perés y Hernandez. You know that castration is the penalty for violating a consecrated virgin.”

Gascon, shifted in his chair, pulled his hand from between Madalena’s legs, and rested his elbows on the table. “How can you believe you’re safe like this?” he asked, and gestured around the hall. “Without that big Galician or guards to protect you, I could have my way with you—as could any man worth his salt.”

Falcona stepped away from the table to warm herself by the fire pit. She motioned to a steward and told him, “Bring us more wine.” When she turned back to face Gascon, she said, “Don’t think I’m naive. Even without Iago or his men here, you and your like are no threat to me.”

Gascon’s brow furrowed with anger, and he stood from his chair. He reached for Falcona to prove what he meant, and the Red Witch extended her hand toward him. It was a simple gesture, as if to tell him to sit, but a crushing blow forced Gascon back into the chair. He struggled to move, and he struggled to breathe until the witch released him, and then he gasped for air.

Falcona took the chalice offered by the steward, and sipped the wine while he refilled Gascon’s. “You see, Perés y Hernandez?” she asked. “Whoever sent you here did you no favor. I’m not satisfied with the answers you’ve given me, and I will be satisfied.” She looked up to Madalena and Taresa waiting behind Gascon and said, “Take his clothes. Cut them off if you need to.”

The nuns took to their task with gusto. They laughed while they worked. Taresa opened the clasps that held Gascon’s tunic and slipped her hands down over his bare chest while Madalena knelt in front of him to take his shoes and his hose. She reached under his tunic to stroke his muscular thighs with both hands, and she tugged at his breech cloth.

Gascon was confused when he looked up at Falcona. “What do you want?” he asked. He pushed Taresa’s hand away and then Madalena’s before the witch gestured again and pressed him back into the chair.

“I want the truth,” Falcona said. “I saw the way you took stock of my forces, my supplies, and my people. You’ve lied and dodged my questions as if you planned to be part of my next problem. I won’t be dodged again.”

“I’m a soldier,” Gascon said, and tried to sit up again. “It is my nature to watch those things. I’m not a spy!” But Falcona stepped back without a word while the nuns worked. Gascon slouched naked in front of her when the nuns finished their job and stood beside him.

Falcona set her chalice on the table, slipped the alabaster vial from the hidden pocket of her cloak, and knelt between Gascon’s knees. “When I ask my questions again,” she said, “you’re going to tell me the truth.”

Gascon covered his groin with both hands and tried to pull his legs together, but a flip of the witch’s finger was all it took to stop him.

“You’re a big man,” Falcona said, and slipped her fingers around Gascon’s flaccid cock. She poured a thin stream of oil from her vial, put the vial away in her cloak, and used both hands to smooth the oil up his shaft and around his balls. All the while, she muttered a chant.

Gascon groaned and writhed. He clenched his teeth and tried to fight off his sudden arousal. “Your hands! They burn!” he gasped, but Falcona’s fingers worked without interruption under his balls and along his suddenly-hardened cock. Gascon writhed in Falcona’s hands and instinctively pushed back against her strokes. amasya escort Her magic made his cock grow bigger and harder than it had ever been before, and he balanced on a thin line that separated pleasure and pain.

“God have mercy!” Gascon begged, but it wasn’t God’s mercy that he needed; it was Falcona’s, and Falcona had no mercy.

Falcona’s spell was cast when spasm’s wracked Gascon’s body. His eyes rolled back, he clenched his teeth, and the contractions gripped his balls. They sent his hot essence splattering across his chest and belly—again, and a third time, until they died away.

The nuns licked their lips while they watched, and Falcona milked Gascon until his body stopped twitching. He was still struggling to catch his breath when Falcona laid his still-hard shaft down and rose to stand over him. Gascon’s heaving chest slowed, but he felt no relaxation, no emptiness, no satisfaction.

Falcona offered Taresa her hand, and while the little nun tasted Gascon’s thick cum on her fingers, the witch told Gascon, “Perés y Hernandez, you won’t be soft again, and you won’t be empty until I release you from my spell, or until you die. Until then, you’ll need a woman like you need air to breathe.”

Gascon’s eyes opened wide because he could feel the truth in what Falcona said. He looked from the witch to Taresa, and to Madalena. When Madalena looked back, she saw desperation in his eyes. Gascon needed no more than that glance from her before he pulled her down between his knees. She squealed in surprise, but he muffled her by pushing his cock between her lips.

Madalena needed only a moment to recover, and then she slipped her lips down his shaft. Gascon laid back in his chair while the sensitive head of his cock traveled over her tongue to the back of her throat. The wet warmth in Sister Madalena’s mouth and her tongue’s eager explorations forced all thought from Gascon’s mind. He moaned into the darkness above him.

Falcona sipped her wine and watched, and then she handed her chalice to Sister Taresa and said, “I expect that he’ll need you when Madalena’s done with him.”

Taresa sipped the wine. “As you wish, Señora.” the nun said. She cupped her breast in one hand and, without thinking, she pinched her nipple through the coarse fabric of her tunic. The touch sent a rush through her body. “He’ll find me willing.”

Madalena’s noises grew louder, and came more quickly, and the cooks and stewards stepped around the table without uttering a word. They watched Falcona for signs of disapproval, found none, and turned their wide eyes on Gascon and on the nun.

Gascon clutched at Madalena, and he shoved her headscarf back until her long, red braid fell free. He put his hands on her head and forced his cock down her throat. It wasn’t until Gascon’s climax overwhelmed him that his fingers knotted in excitement, and he let Madalena go. He bellowed, Madalena gasped for breath, and his cream gushed into her mouth, onto her cheek and her neck.

The nun sat down between Gascon’s knees and wiped him off her face with the tail of her cape while his bare chest heaved. His cock—as thick and hard as it had ever been—pulsed between his legs. It gleamed in the flickering light under a coat of Sister Madalena’s spit and his hot cum.

When Gascon lifted his head again, he glanced at the cooks and stewards who silently watched. He focused desperate eyes on Falcona, and then on Sister Taresa. Falcona took the chalice from the little nun’s hand, but barely in time.

Gascon lurched out of the chair, and Madalena ducked out of his way. He pulled Taresa close and inhaled the scent that rose from her black hair and from within her tunic. Any thought of saving himself from castration was drowned by his screaming need. He forced the little nun down on her back at Falcona’s feet, and Falcona stepped back against the table to give them room, and to watch.

Even if Taresa had wanted to protest she could not because Gascon covered her mouth with his and forced his tongue between her teeth. He groped at her small breasts as his hand traveled down her body, and he pulled the hem of her tunic to her waist.

Gascon shoved Sister Taresa’s thighs apart. The dark curls between her legs framed her cunt and her parted pussy lips gleamed wet in the firelight. They both caught their breath when Gascon shoved his cock into her. She gasped from the pain as her hymen tore, and he gasped from his excitement.

Taresa’s body yielded, but her tight grip around Gascon’s cock was maddening to him. He paused only a second to catch his breath, and then he pushed into her as far as he could reach. She arched her back and lifted her legs around his hips while he fucked her. His hard flesh filled her, and his animal passion thrilled her.

“Do you think he’ll live long enough to satisfy us all?” Madalena asked. Her eyes were fixed on Gascon’s muscular butt as he squeezed himself into Taresa, but her hands wandered her own body. She touched her throat, she touched her full breasts, and she stroked her hand down her belly.

“He’ll still be here to satisfy you,” Falcona said. She sipped her wine and looked over the rim of the chalice at the shadowed expressions on the cooks and stewards who watched. They’d seen the virgins ravaged before, so now they watched a miracle, and they crossed themselves after each of Taresa’s loud cries.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I had been working at Loesser Bros. Ltd for over seven years and had worked my way up to floor manager when I was promoted suddenly to account vice president. I couldn’t figure why exactly I was promoted. I didn’t think I had done anything particularly spectacular, but I had held the floor men to their jobs and managed the sales reps well in the past year. I received a tremendous bonus, almost four times my previous annual salary, and was moved into a new office with a vice president named Marguerite Seldon.

Marguerite, as she asked me to call her the day after we met (I’d asked her to call me Martin as soon as we shook hands), was an unmarried (at least, unringed) lady of perhaps thirty-five. She was beautiful auburn hair; deep blue commanding eyes; a fantastic figure, as trim as her somewhat tall build (she was 5′ 10″) would allow. The curve of her breasts and hips was most attractive, and she made certain (I was sure) that I appreciated her figure and her stockbroking abilities, which were as outstanding as her personality.

Marguerite was very outgoing, perhaps that was what attracted and kept the clients, for she and I made a great team, bringing in commissions like grocery coupons. I soon became as attractive to clients as was Marguerite, although her clients were mostly men, while mine were mostly women. I must say that Marguerite’s private (very private) remarks about our clients were occasionally caustic and very much apropos.

“Well, Martin my boy,” said she about one large, very large, client, “was that trip to the moon, or over the moon?” “To the moon” was our office code for an unpleasant time.

“Not quite, Marguerite. She wanted to be put into some penny stocks that I know are worthless, and I flat-out refused. ‘Sides, she wouldn’t have fit. But I tried to interest her in Vanneman’s new issue, which you pointed out to me, and she waffled so altogether, maybe it wasn’t completely worthless, but I didn’t close today.”

That was a sad admission, but I’d closed six in two days of that week already, and we had been generally in a fairly happy mood.

“You should have spread some honey on her waffle, then, Mart’,” was her rejoinder. I started to chuckle, then thought better of it.

“Never mind, Mart’.: she went on, “Oh, hell, do you mind my calling you Mart’?” Her mild profanity took me slightly aback.

“No, not at all. But I don’t think you’d like anyone to call you ‘Maggie,'” I grinned.

“True, I’d hate it. I had too many unpleasant nicknames unpleasant to me, anyway as a youngster. Other than names, I think we get along well for two completely unattached orphans, don’t you?”

“Uhm… Marguerite, how did you know . . .?”

“That you were an orphan with no close relatives…or ties? Perhaps we orphans can ‘feel’ each other, after we work together for a time. Our secretary, Sally, is an orphan, too. What I started to ask . . . .”

“Yes?” I was fascinated by what I thought I saw in her eyes an interest in me as a person, not as a brokerage team partner. I got the impression that Marguerite was very attracted to me. I know that during the six weeks we’d worked together I had found her more and more attractive, and I was only awaiting the proper time and place to come on strongly to her I realized that I’d fallen for her! Her next statement surprised and excited me. Something in my lower belly churned excitingly.

“I want you to come to dinner at my place, and be introduced to . . . I am always a little hesitant about my hobby…I hope you won’t laugh at me….”

“I promise I won’t, I’ve had some funny… some odd hobbies…myself.” Lately, masturbating and trying to cum when I thought of Marguerite, back at my apartment!

“Yes, well, I take my…particular…hobby quite seriously. I collect…dolls, you might say. You will find yourself quite…involved, I’d say. I haven’t known anyone…well, one other…most people would laugh at me . . . who I’d ask to regard my hobby as closely as you.”

I’d very seldom in the time I’d known her heard Marguerite hesitate and ramble as much as she did this day. I didn’t care…any chance to be alone with her….

“Marguerite, I’m honored indeed. I would very much like to learn about your hobby, and I must tell you …I feel something between us more than just office-partners’ interest, if you follow me.”

“Why, yes, I believe I do. I find you very attractive, Marty.” There was a grin on her lips, a spark of mischief in her eye. “Do you… consent…?” I thought that an odd way to phrase it, but I said,

“Surely, with pleasure. When?”

“How about this coming week-end? We have four days off. It will give you a chance to become… better acquainted…with my dolls.”

Well, that was agreed, and I felt an odd sense of relief. The invitation and the tone in which it was delivered was as sincere as I’d ever heard. From that moment I began wanting to be near Marguerite more and more urgently. As I thought of the coming four-day week-end, I thought my masculinity kastamonu escort would assert itself, but only a tremor in my lower belly indicated any sexual arousal. I somehow seemed more content when I was around Marguerite the rest of the short week. I could have sworn that she smelled different, too.

Luckily, only two more days and it was Thursday the firm was closed every week-end anyway Friday of that week and the Monday following were extra “up-date” days necessitated by some computer programming.

Thursday, after lunch, I thought I saw some indication that Marguerite was perhaps “suffering” from similar anticipation, for I noticed on several occasions her nipples tautly erected against her tight sweater when she looked at me. Once by chance I noticed that her chair seat was, to my astonished eyes, slightly damp, and on that occasion she walked quite quickly to the door, moving slightly sideways, saying over her shoulder,

“Ladies room, back at once.”

I had a client on the phone at the moment, so I could make no remark, but I was slightly distracted, sufficiently so that the client asked me if I were all right. I snapped back to reality and was closing the deal when Marguerite came back. She had on another skirt. As I put the phone down, she gave me a great wide smile which lit up those penetrating blue eyes and she chuckled,

“Sorry, Marty. I know that was distracting, but I was thinking the same thoughts you were! I can hardly wait for tonight. You’ll…really come over, won’t you.” My belly contracted in a pleasurable spasm. I didn’t notice that was a statement, not a question. I quickly replied,

“Good Lord, yes! But I thought you meant tomor . . . Fri . . . I hadn’t thought . . . .”

“Makes…no difference to me, but have you anything else on for the week-end? You’ve consented to come…? Yes? Then come over tonight. You have the address, right?” She’d used that word “consent” again, which sounded slightly odd in context, but I let it slide.

I took the sweaty, much-creased piece of paper from my wallet I’d probably looked at it fifty times so far in two days, and I gulped in embarrassment.

“Uhm, Marguerite, I had it written down, but this piece of paper won’t do me any good. I’ve looked at your address so much that I’ve sweated and erased it out of existence!”

“O K, we’ll do this another way. Look at me, Marty! Now Marguerite Seldon, 12234 Drosten Way, North Harbor. You’ve got it now, don’t you?”

Well, I certainly did. I had never before had someone’s personality impressed on my mind like that. I regarded Marguerite differently; she was a forceful and much more powerful woman than I had earlier realised. A feeling of general well-being came over me and I just accepted that Marguerite was somehow a superior person. Now I wanted to be there as soon as possible!

Where I got that idea I don’t know, but it made all the remaining time at work Thursday seem to go excruciatingly slowly. I left the office shortly after Marguerite, as early as possible, with instructions to Sally that I was not to be disturbed all week-end.

Sally smiled and nodded as though she thoroughly understood. I gathered with nothing said that Marguerite had given her the exact same instructions, and I knew that Sally could put two and two together.

“Going to join us…uh…I mean, see the dolls, Martin? You’ll love uh…them. See you soon,” said Sally, looking a bit wistful.

I thought for a second that the way she phrased that was odd, but thought no more about it, then. She was certainly good-looking and I had considered her as a prospect for some interesting fun every time I had seen her before I had met Marguerite. I wondered for a moment how Sally knew about the dolls…and was that just a slip when she said “join us?” Just the same, I thought, Sally didn’t have to assume that she’d see me before Tuesday.

I got to Marguerite’s she’d asked me not to drive my car, no parking available she said, so I used mass transportation on a handy bus which stopped at the nearest corner at quarter to seven. I had showered and dressed as though for a night out, yet I had a strange feeling that we would not leave the apartment all week-end.

Marguerite’s “place” was not after all leased, as I had expected. She owned the entire building, and occupied the three bottom floors and the basement!

She opened the inner door to her home “dressed” only in a loosely held shawl which she dropped at once to reveal her entire gorgeous body.

I should have had a raging erection, but I felt only great desire to please Marguerite. The look with which she regarded me made my mind quiver, and I thought to myself, This is the most beautiful woman you will ever know, and she is your mistress.

I could not have kept myself from saying what I next said, in gasps of fevered adoration.

“Marguerite, I… I just now realised that I want to be yours . . . if you’ll have me. You must be the most kayseri escort beautiful woman I’ve ever known!”

She smiled and kissed my cheek. I felt lavishly rewarded, and somehow as though I had been promised the world. Something on my chest prickled and rubbed, tickling, against my t-shirt. Turning away finally from a long, meaningful, heated interplay of glances, she toured me around her place like any house-proud woman, mentioning in passing,

“I would be very happy if you meant that, Marty. Can I count on it? Good.” She turned to look me straight in the eyes.

“Get undressed, you’ll be more comfortable.

As I hastily undressed without further thought, she continued,

“As you will soon realise, I’ve always taken real interest in a certain type of…person, and now that I can afford it, I’ve been able to obtain what I wish. I’m certain that you’ll enjoy being a part of it.”

I thought it quite natural that she had not shown me her bedroom yet. I wondered briefly what the rest of the space was used for, and how much it must have cost.

“Yes, I like your place very much, Marguerite, but you did mention your hobby when you invited me.”

“Ah. Well, you’ll have to wait until after dinner, dear Marty.” She cupped my head in her strong hands and kissed me soundly. My head swirled, my knees weakened and I would have fallen, I do believe, if she had not supported me to a deep chair and plopped me in. The fabric felt very odd against my bottom. I felt slightly wider in the butt, and there was an odd sensation in my chest, as though something was swelling.

“I think you need a drink. I have some wine I’d like your opinion on, a new pressing, but I think it’s got a nice bouquet, and it’s not too sweet.”

“Oh. Happy to.” I had no idea what she had just said, nor to what I was agreeing, my head was so muzzy. I noticed the funny sensation in my chest had become more intense, and when I felt myself in slight alarm my nipples were sticking out. Were they bigger? I paid them no further heed.

Marguerite brought in two huge goblets of a deep red wine. I could smell tartness, tinged with a smell of some herb. I seldom drank wine, but in this instance I tasted, then sipped and quickly drank about half the goblet. It was excellent, full-bodied and not as tart as I had thought. I was soon hungry for whatever she had prepared for dinner, I was becoming more and more curious about her dolls, and I was hungry for Marguerite.

Although the unfamiliar swellings on my chest kept brushing against my arms as I cut whatever the meat was, I again paid them no particular heed. However, I did notice a slight sensation of tickling in my crotch, but I did my best to ignore that, thinking that I was becoming aroused by Marguerite’s proximity and the luscious way she smelled.

Dinner was as good as I had expected, although I later remembered not one dish we ate. I ate a lot, yet I did not feel distended afterwards. I felt very aroused and thought I must be showing an erection, but there was no lump when I brushed a hand hastily across my lap. Marguerite noticed my gesture and commented as we rose form the table,

“You’ll soon appreciate the loss of certain things a great deal, Marty. And there’ll be certain gains, too. I’ll take very good care of you!” She kissed me deeply again, holding me close to her with her strong arms.

My belly and crotch twitched and it seemed heavenly to rub my nipples against her breasts as she held me to her luscious body.

Something happened after dinner …I certainly was feeling very strange, and I had an increasing desire to fondle Marguerite. Something was affecting my mind. I heard myself make an unexpected and impassioned statement.

” Marguerite, I want to be yours…forever! I adore you!”

“Do you want to make love to me?”

“Oh! Yes, if that is your wish…mistress.”

In those few moments I felt a great change in myself. My lower belly tickled, and I felt a continual shrinking sensation, tickling and pleasant at the same time. My breasts and my nipples swelled. I paid little attention to myself, for I was concentrating on Marguerite’s lovely breasts and belly, so rounded, so firm, her upright nipples so enticing! My own nipples and belly tingled.

“Now, Marty, we’ll go to see my…dolls. I’m sure you’ll be happy with them. You will appreciate me more every minute and I want you to abide with me, just like my other…. Come.”

I walked alongside her, our arms about each other’s waists, our hips rubbing lightly against each other’s warmth. I enjoyed the sensation of my hips swaying against hers, the increasing fullness of my breasts. Mistress’s breasts entranced me and all I could think of was how her nipple would feel under my finger and how she smelled and how her quim would taste. I was becoming less and less sure of who or what I was, or where, but that did not concern me, for it felt so good when she touched my breasts and my nipples kıbrıs escort hardened. I wanted to push and squirm my belly against her. I did not care what was happening, I just knew that Marguerite made me feel welcome and made me want to stay with her.

We entered a large room, I think on a lower floor of her home and I was momen-tarily astonished to see statues of what at first looked like very life-like material, each representing a still, nude, life-sized figure.

“Oh, there’s a likeness of Sally!” I exclaimed, starting toward the figure to examine it. My voice was now pitched higher, yet it seemed quite natural.

“Yes, it’s Sally. For quite some time she’s been in my collection. Let her rest, now, Marta. My dolls. . . you’re puppets really, you see, Marta. I control my puppets, you all do as I wish, but that doesn’t bother you, does it?”

“No, Marguer….”

“I’m ‘Mistress,’ Marta, dear. You’re a lovely part of my collection.”

I could not quite understand, and my mind was whirling so that nothing save a strong feeling that what Mistress said was right made much sense to me. I felt very warm and happy, my belly almost burning, my inner thighs wet with my desire. I could feel my nipples tightening more as I felt increasing arousal.

“Me? Wha…? I’m…I’m Mar…ta, I am Mar…ta, Marta, yes, that’s my. . . name. Mistress, I feel strange, have I been ill?”

Indeed, just then I had no memory of when or how I joined my Mistress’s collection, yet I knew that I was a young and rather pretty blonde female puppet named Marta. I looked into a nearby mirror. I was standing provocatively, one hand on my belly, my other propping me up.

Marguerite’s arms went around me, and then one hand dropped to my lower belly, brushing against the fuzz on my pubic mound, making me feel very strange, as though I wanted and needed something I could not define. Then she was massaging me softly, oh so softly. My pubes involuntarily pushed against her stroking hand. I felt a finger enter where not even my finger had entered before …we dropped to a soft couch and lay close against each other. The odor of her skin was intoxicating, and I felt as though I were in heaven. Mistress spoke softly,

“Kiss my breasts, Marta. Suck gently on my nipples, I love the feeling so much.”

“Ah, Mistress! You have the most beautiful breasts. I adore them.”

“Yes, Marta, you will, always…and you will have many chances to kiss them.”

My crotch felt very peculiar and very wet from the penetration of her finger. I wanted to rub my body against Marguerite. Indeed, her breasts were luscious, full, yet firm, with lovely areolas and large nipples, now standing upright, awaiting my eager mouth.

“My dear . . . ,” Mistress murmured.

I bent my head and kissed her left breast gently, my tongue seeking her nipple which was waiting for my touch. I licked for a moment, and then sucked, at first gently, then harder. The nipple seemed to lengthen, entering between my lips so it lay rigid on my tongue. A liquid which tasted at first like milk, then something intoxicating, made me feel at the same instant euphoric and slightly dizzy. There was a tickling at my crotch which felt wonderful.

“There, Marta, you’re doing well. Come now, love, kiss your way down my body. You’ll like what you will find very much. Gently, dear. We have a long time.”

After a slow, joyous journey with my tongue along her torso and belly, trying all the time to keep as much of my body as possible pressed against Mistress, I found my head between her smooth thighs, kissing them ecstatically her thick, soft bush tasted good to me, and I did what my mind told me would please me and Mistress my tongue licked along her labia, tickled her clitoris, and slid quickly and quite deeply into her juicy quim. The soft black hair parted easily, and imparted a spicy odor to my senses. Mistress’s juices tasted divine. I placed two fingers, crossed, inside her and she squirmed with increasing passion as I sucked and tickled with my fingers. She hummed and murmured above me, and I was by now so enraptured that I failed to notice that my mind was entirely devoted to her pleasure.

“Now, dear Marta,” she cooed, “you know how to make me climax and you’ll enjoy your first orgasm with me. Dear, you’re a wonderful, happy person.”

I silently agreed with joy welling in my bosom.

My mind was in some faraway place, but I felt her quim pulsate, so I licked and sucked fast and hard at her clit until I tasted a flood of her juices on my tongue, and my brain whirled as I felt my body respond with a sudden convulsion in my quim and the ooze of juices which smeared over Mistress’s calves. I had to hold tightly to Mistress Marguerite’s squirming hips as she climaxed more than once, my fingers twisting inside her and my lips pressed firmly to her labia. My vagina spasmed again, then I was still for a second, and I felt something move inside me. I spasmed once more and ground my mons against Mistress’s shin. My juices flowed freely down my thighs, blending with hers.

She slowly pulled me up along her beautiful body until I lay close against her, my pert breasts touching, pressing against her large ones, my nipples rubbing on her heavy ones, my inner thighs sopping wet. I moaned and clamped my legs around her thigh for the sheer pleasure it gave me.

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At eight Feng arrived and did his thing. He showed me how to operate the device. At around ten he was through and we went downstairs for drinks.

“Any time you need me for a job, just call,” he said before he left.

I asked him if that was still on offer if the job involved some danger to his person.

“I am in a dangerous business, Frank. A bit more or less doesn’t worry me. Just tell me when I need to carry a gun.”

He laughed, we shook hands and he went on his way.

***

After a gruelling day at the office sorting through pictures, and after my usual lesson I had my recording. It felt weird seeing myself naked with a hard on lying on that platform and the Oktonian woman straddling me. She pushed herself down, stayed there for about twenty seconds and withdrew. My penis started to deflate already, it was obvious I had ejaculated. She went to where her clothes were and withdrew a cylinder from her skirt. Pulling two pieces of what looked like wet cloth from the cylinder she dabbed herself with one and cleaned my dick carefully and meticulously with the other. She took the cylinder and the cloths to the bathroom and presumably threw them down the garbage chute. I lay on the platform, barely breathing, as in a coma. As she got dressed my body started to stir a little. She continued to watch me as I came to my senses. The whole event had lasted just over twenty minutes. When I was dressed again she left.

Nothing stuck out when I watched it again. I decided I was too tired to pay proper attention and left it until morning.

I gave the office a miss and had breakfast at the hotel, in civvies. Back at my room I kept looking at the recording over and over without coming up with anything new other than a look at a naked back of an Oktonian woman. I had never seen one. I had noticed Oktonian women always faced me, dressed or naked. I had thought that was because they were very protective of their wings, which they claimed were very delicate and easily injured. Maybe there were other reasons.

There was nothing erotic about an Oktonian rear. They had no arse to speak of. There was no deep crack dividing the cheeks as in humans, just a shallow furrow, covered with feathers. It seemed unlikely there was an arsehole underneath the feathers, it would make an awful mess every time they had a shit.

I wasn’t getting anywhere. Perhaps another pair of eyes could help. I rang up Arden and asked him if he could come over to my hotel and have lunch with me later.

He turned up around ten. Arden spotted an irregularity on the second run through. He pointed out a flicker in the recording almost immediately after the woman had slipped her vagina over my dick.

“What do you think this is?” he asked, taking me three or four times over that segment.

“Some glitch in the recording?”

“If it’s a glitch in the recording, why is it only where your body is and nowhere else?”

I hadn’t noticed that, but he was right. It almost seemed as if my body had blanked out for a fraction of a second at that point. The rest of the picture was steady. A frame by frame analysis brought no further clarification.

“Whatever happened there was too fast for the camera to pick up completely,” said Arden.”We need to adjust the recording devices or get different ones. You need Feng.”

“It would be necessary to brief Feng on at least some of what I’m doing for him to do his job properly. Do you trust him that much?”

“I would rather have Feng in on our little conspiracy than some arsehole from the Federation.”

Feng it was. He joined us an hour later.

Arden tried to put the fear of Jesus into him with official secrets act and so but Feng interrupted him in the middle of his speech.

“Listen you dumb prick,” he said, “years ago, when your mob picked me up, ardahan escort after I made a mistake on some schonk deal, you decided I was worth more to you here than being deported. You killed the action against me and we have done all sorts of shit together since, on condition I would not be required to rat on my customers and colleagues. It’s been working for close to ten years now.

“Make a fucking executive decision. Tell me what you want me to do and why and I tell you if I want to be in on it or not. In either case no one will ever hear from me what was discussed.”

“This is my call,” I said. “Let’s have lunch first and afterwards I’ll brief you. After that you will have to make a fucking executive decision, as you so colourfully put it.”

Feng just grinned and we went to get something to eat.

I have to give it to the Chinaman, he is a good listener. He paid close attention to what I was saying, only interrupting occasionally to clarify some point. I told him about Oktonians and their form of having sex with humans and our reasons for wanting to find out what that was all about.

I then showed him the recording. He went over it several times.

“This is weird shit. Whatever this is, a fuck it ain’t.” Turning to me he said: “You realise, of course, you’ve been drugged. Her cunt, or whatever that thing is you stick your dick into, is soaked with the drug. They collect your come while you are off your head and afterwards the woman neutralises the toxin with whatever is on those rags, which brings you back to reality. Evidently whatever crap they are using doesn’t affect them the same way. At least that’s what I think. That’s number one.

“Number two is that the blurred patch in the recording is not caused by the equipment. Arden is right. Something happened there that happened too fast for the cameras to pick up. I can speed up the cameras to one hundred times the normal recording speed. I’ll do that now. If that’s not sufficient I’ll have to get you some other gear.

“Number three, and this is where it gets exciting, here might be a chance to get our hands on a genuine Oktonian artefact. The cylinder and those rags don’t look like anything I’m familiar with, besides there must be chemicals of one sort or another stuck to those pieces of cloth. It may well be something they produce.”

“All very nice,” I said. “How will you get your hands on it.”

“The cameras don’t show it, but you reckon she threw it down the garbage chute in the bathroom, don’t you?”

“There is nowhere else she could have put it.”

“It’s simple then. Before she turns up for your lesson I’ll tape a plastic bag into the chute to prevent things from dropping down. We should be able to retrieve whatever she puts in it.”

“I take it that means you’re in with us Feng?”

He laughed. “Of course I’m in with you guys. Look, I need to go now. I’ll see you tonight at six, here in this room. I’ll make sure the equipment does what it’s supposed to do and tape the bag in the chute. We’ll meet again after eight to see what we’ve got.”

We agreed to the arrangement, Feng left and I went to the bar with Arden for a drink.

“Shit, I forgot to ask him if he could adjust the cameras,” I said when we had settled down. “I want to know if Oktonians have an arsehole.”

“What do you want to know that for? You don’t want to fuck her arse, do you?”

I told him what Cleopatra had said about parthenogenesis and about shit and offspring emerging from the same hole.

“Why don’t you talk to the coroner?”

“You have a coroner?”

“Look Frank, what do you think this is? This place may be the arse end of the universe and it definitely has some strange things going on that make no sense, but when you strip the shit away adıyaman escort it’s a spaceport. There are about 80,000 permanent residents and any number of transients here. As in any other place like this we have accidents, robberies, murders, illicit drugs, fraud, the whole criminal shooting match. We are called Federation Security, but we are the police here. We have a fraud squad, a homicide department, a forensic lab and so forth like any other bunch of coppers. Of course we have a coroner. Someone has to do the autopsies.

“What are you telling me?”

“Not all victims of accidents and crime are human. He’ll be able to tell you everything you want to know about Oktonian anatomy. He might even have an Oktonian body in a fridge somewhere.”

Arden went back to his office. I stayed in my room.

At six Feng turned up and did his thing, at seven I had my daily lesson and at eight Feng and Arden arrived, anxious for results. Feng wanted to go straight to the bathroom to retrieve whatever had been caught in his bag. Arden stopped him.

He had brought some sort of forensic kit and made Feng wear gloves and a facemask. He donned the same gear himself and they went to work. Minutes later they returned from the bathroom with a number of neatly labelled evidence bags containing the bits and pieces they had found.

Feng wanted to have a closer look. Arden wasn’t having any of it.

“This stuff will go to the forensic lab as is right now, I don’t want it handled and contaminated.”

They argued.

“Stop it, you guys. What are you arguing for? Feng can have his own set tomorrow to play around with. There’s not much we can do with this shit tonight anyway. Let’s have a look what the cameras tell us.”

“You guys have a look at that, I’ll get this shit off to the lab while it’s still fresh.” With that Arden closed his case and went.

Feng busied himself with the recording device. At 2400 frames per second there were a lot of images he had to go through. It took him a while.

“Well, fuck me dead. What the fuck is this?” Feng was scratching his head.

“What are you talking about?” I was mystified.

“Look here, there are about twenty frames were your body is not in the picture. Everything else is. Either you went completely transparent, or for that split second you weren’t there. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Problems with the equipment? Something interfering with it?” I suggested.

“Not a chance.”

Feng tuned the device to maximum resolution.

“Here, see? Every feather on that Oktonian quim is as clear as a bell, so is the surface texture of the platform where your body should be. You tell me how a problem with the gear can cause that. No, this is something else. It’s no hallucination either, cameras cannot record hallucinations.”

“What do we do now?” I didn’t know how to proceed from here.

“First I’ll erase all our recordings and then I’ll remove the surveillance gear and get it out of here.”

“Why would you do this?” I was mystified.

“There is nothing further we can learn here. I want to remove all evidence just in case someone comes across this shit and starts wondering what we’re up to. Let me get my kit.”

Feng left and returned after ten minutes with his briefcase. He immediately started to remove the cameras and patched the small holes in the wall where they had been.

“You’ll need something to show to your masters. I’ll make a copy of the first recording, edit the picture where your body flickers, make it look like an equipment glitch. You can give them that. If you don’t give them something they will wonder how come you have the artefacts. Once forensics have them there is no way to keep their existence quiet. I’ll also doctor the karabük escort speeded up recording and take the frames out where you disappear. I’ll put the doctored versions on your computer. Give them to your masters, tell them we made a second recording because of the glitch in the first, just to make sure we hadn’t missed anything. Tell them the artefacts were collected by Federation Security and are with forensics now for analysis. That’ll cover your butt.”

I agreed that this was a good plan.

It took Feng about an hour to remove all traces of what he had done except for the doctored copies on my computer.

“Let me get this shit away from here,” he said when he was done. “I’ll see you downstairs in the bar in half an hour, if that’s okay with you.”

I told him it was.

***

“You really know how to piss into a hornet’s nest, don’t you?” Feng said over a beer. “If the Federation finds out about this our lives won’t be worth a cracker.”

“Look Feng, as long as you keep quiet about this you can still bomb out, if it’s too dangerous for you.”

“Walk away from this? Are you nuts? This is shaping up to be the biggest adventure of my life. A million horses couldn’t drag me away.”

“How would I pay you? I can’t very well have you put on the Federation payroll and I don’t know if I can afford your services for any length of time.”

“Fuck the money. I know you are well off, I checked. But, so am I. It’s the adrenaline I’m after, not the cash. I’m bored shitless with my life.”

“I’m making an executive decision here Feng. I’ve decided to level with you. Let’s go up to my room, I need a secure environment.”

“You mean there’s more? Let’s go for it. You’re on.”

“Give me your assessment so far, Feng. What do you think is happening here?” I asked when we had settled down.

“I trust my equipment. It tells me that for a split second your body was not in this room. That much is not speculation, at least as far as I’m concerned.

“You tell me that you enter into some spaces where you can act physically and that you can spend considerable time there. In this reality you’re only gone for a split second. At the risk of sounding like an idiot, this spells to me some form of time travel. We know that, at least on a quantum level, it’s possible. We have known that for a long time. No one has been able to do something with it though.”

“You are right, that’s exactly what it is. Your recording gave me the last bit of information I needed to come to that conclusion.”

“You mean you have other evidence to support the theory?”

“Yes.”

“Come on then. Don’t leave me here sitting on the edge of my seat.”

“What I’m about to tell you I haven’t even told Arden. Only two people know of it so far.”

I told him about my experiments with Lata, about the microchip and about my intention to have a camera implanted so I could take pictures when I was in those spaces.

“Whatever you do, don’t have one of those implant jobs. They’ll make you go blind within a year.”

“How do you know that?”

“You are forgetting surveillance is my area of expertise. They use no camera in these devices. The way it works is they implant electrodes straight into the visual cortex, and pick up the images from there. The device sees everything the eyes of the subject see, with amazing clarity. The downside is that the visual cortex deteriorates rapidly in the process, rendering the subject blind in a comparatively short time. The deterioration is irreversible. It keeps on going even after the electrodes are removed. The Federation, and some criminal enterprises, use the technology only on disposables, meaning people they get rid of after they have the information they want.”

“There goes that idea. It would have been nice to take pictures.”

“That may still be possible. I have a device that might do the job, assuming you can take it with you. I’ll show you tomorrow. I have to be here at six anyway to fit the bag in the chute, we’ll try an experiment then. Now I’ve got to get some sleep if I’m to be of any use tomorrow. See you at six.”

I decided I’d had enough too and went to bed.

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Zaten am yozgat escort yalamaya bayılırım böyle mis gibi olunca dahada fazla yalamaya devam ettim. amının sularını içiyordum resmen gül kıvrım kıvrım kıvranmaya başlamıştı ne olur sikin artık geçirin amıma götüme diye yalvarmaya başlamıştı gürkanla bana. Bense aldırış etmeden amını yalamaya devam ediyor dilimi amına sik gibi sokup çıkartıyordum. Ihhhlamalar atrmıştı gülde artık yalvarmaya başlamıştı. Artık vaktinin geldiğini düşünüp kocası ağzına verirken bende sırt üstü uzanmış gülün amına sikimle fırça darbeleri atmaya başlamıştım beni kendine doğru çekmeye çalışıyor fakat ben sokmuyordum yalvarmaya başladı sik artık ne olur sok şu sikini amıma becer beni çatır çatı si diye. bende daha fazla dayanamadım ve taş gibi olmuş sikimi bir anda köküne kadar soktum. Gülden öyle bir çığlık geldiki ev müstakil olmasa komşular gelirdi herhalde. ben amına sert sert girip çıkmaya başladım kocasıda hem azını sikiyor hem göğüslerini yoğuruyordu. Gül se zevten bayılacak gibi çığlıklar atıyor kendini sikime doğru ittiriyordu. bense her seferinde tam çıkartacak gibi yapıyor sonrada dibine kadar köklüyordum. Sonra gül ikinizin sikinide içimde istiyorum dedi. Ben yatağa sırt üstü uzandım gül yüzü dönük şekilde sikimin üstüne oturdu ve zıplamaya başladı kocasıda arkasındaki yerini aldı ve Gülü götten sikmeye hazırlanıyordu anladığım kadarıyla parmaklarını gülün götüne sokuyordu. o da iyice azmış olmalıki zaten gülün ağzından ıslanmış olan sikini Gülün götune kökledi. Gül aramızda tost olmuş zevten bayılırcasına tiz çığlıklar atıyordu. Ben kendimi ne kadar tutabilsemde geç boşalsamda artık tutamaz hale gelmiştim ve güle gelmek üzere olduğumu söyledim biraz daha gitgel yaptıktan sonra sıcacık amın içine döllerimi tüm tazyikiyle bıraktım ama gül hala götünü siktiiyor ve üstümde zıplamaya devam ediyordu. bir iki git gelden sonra kocasıda boşaldı ve yana yığılıp zonguldak escort kaldı. Gül amından çıkarttığım sikini bir güzel yaladı bir damlasını bile ziyan etmeden yuttu. Sonra sırayla duşa girdik ve bornozlarla gelip yatagın ustune oturduk benimki yeniden hareketlenmeye başladı kocasıysa yatağın karşısındaki koltuğa oturdu ve siz devam edin ben izlicem dedi belliki yorulmuştu. 69 pozisyonuna geçtik ve gül sikimi yalarken ben hem amını yalıyor hem göt deliğine dilimi sokuyordum. iyice sertleşen sikimi daha fazla dayanamayarak gülü domalttım ve arkadan yalanmaktan sulanmış amına daldırdım yine ahlar ohh lar içinde sikişmeye başladık bana kocacım sikicim sensin demeye başladı. kocası ise koltukta oturmuş kalmkayan sikiyle 31 çekmey uğraşıyor bende yatakta karısını sikiyordum. gülü arkadan sikerken sert sert omuzlarından sikime bastırıyor ve saçlarını çekerek sikiyordum kasıklarımız birbirine çarpıyor ve odada şap şap sesleri yankılanıyordu. bir süre böyle girip çıktıktan sonra tempoyu biraz düşürdüm ve göt deliğini parmağımla genişletmeye başladım iki parmağım rahatca giriyordu zaten az önce sikilmişti götü. sonra benim ufaklığı yerleştirdim göt deliğine alıştıra alıştıra sikmeye başladım daracıktı kocasının sikinden sonra benimki iice doldurmuştu götünü. Önceleri yavaş ol diyen gül daha hızlı daha sert sik görsün kocam nasıl sikilir am göt die bagırmaya başladı. bende sanki düşmanımı sikercesine hunharca girip çıkmaya başladım git gellerin sonucunda güle boşalacağımı söyledim bu sefer hepsini ağzıma istiyorum dedi sikimi götünden çıkartıp ağzına verdim boğazına kadar birkaç kez gidip geldim ve yine muhteşem bi boşalma yaşadım oda benle birlikte boşaldı. Yine bir damlasını bile ziyan etmeden yuttu ve yataga devrildik. akşam 8 de buluşmuştuk saat gece 3 olmuştu. Ben duşumu aldım tam gitmeye yelteniyodum ki gül üstünde siyah bi gecelik göğüs kısmı dantelli altında hiçbir şey yok beni yolcu etmeye geldi. bu arada gurkan yorgunluktan uyumustu bile. sonra ayak üstü salonda yiyişmeye başladık ve benimki yine kalktı. salondaki koltuga yatırdım bir postada amından orda siktim ve evimin yolunu tuttum ebnim için müthiş bi deneyim oldu halada görüşüyoruz. Sadece evli çiftler ve grup yapmak isteyen bayanlar eklesin lütfen

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Every morning I go for an early morning jog – it’s the highlight of my day, really. It gives me a chance to collect my thoughts, clear my head and prepare for whatever lies ahead. And my head needed clearing – I’ve not long come out of a doomed relationship with a bloke who turned out to be a neurotic loser, and it took me two tortuous years to work that out.

So now was a time for some clean breaks. He’d moved out of my flat and instead I’d taken in Jenn, a flatmate who worked for some insurance company up the road. She wasn’t really a friend or anything but we co-habited well enough and in fact in any given week we didn’t see that much of each other. I was a very early riser – I like to be jogging by 6.15 before the traffic starts. And I prefer these days to be early to bed – I’ll often be reading in bed by 9.30 and always fall asleep by 10.30.

Jenn though gets up at the last possible moment to get to work, and at weekends she doesn’t emerge from her room until midday. She’s out most evenings and certainly on Friday and Saturday nights, and when she’s in she’ll be parked in front of the TV. All this suits both of us fine. We chat about the usual things – the raciest conversation we ever had was about sports bras. However, if I’m being honest, a little bit of me was fascinated by her. She seemed very serene and happy with her existence and I had just a slight feeling that she might be gay – not that she’d ever tried to chat me up or anything but rather that she never talked about boys, and above her bed I had spotted she had a postcard of Gillian Anderson, from X-Files, and – oh I don’t know; just call it a feeling. Her bedroom was at the top of the stairs and mine was further down the hall so I have no idea who she brought back with her, if indeed she ever had.

Anyway, this one morning I woke as usual at 6pm, got up, splashed my face, changed into my jogging pants and top, and left the house by 6.15. Jenn’s door was closed as usual as I passed it – I always tiptoe because I don’t want to wake her, especially if she’s been on the town the night before. She’s very respectful of how I live and I like to be the same back…

My jog would usually take about an hour – a 20 minute run, grab a juice and scan the papers at the local early morning deli/café, and then a 20 minute run back. However, this particular morning things worked out a bit differently. I’d been running for about 5 minutes when I missed rize escort my footing at a kerb and turned my ankle over a little – nothing worrying but enough to make me stop for a minute or two. I decided, reluctantly, to turn round and walk home. I didn’t want to make my ankle any worse as I was doing a 5k charity run the following weekend, which I was really looking forward to, and it would be daft to test my ankle.

So I got home only about 10 minutes or so after I’d gone out. As usual – more so actually because it wasn’t even 6.30 – I came in quietly and tiptoed upstairs to go and have a quick shower and change into my work clothes for the day.

Half way up the stairs I was surprised to see Jenn’s door ajar – she must have got up for the loo or something. I started to walk past and couldn’t help but glance inside. I stopped dead in my tracks. Jenn was sitting at her computer, completely naked, the early morning sun streaming into her room. I could clearly see on the screen a succession of pornographic images – all women, and all with their legs spread apart and their fingers, or a vibrator, playing with their vaginas. Jenn too had one foot up on her seat and one hand between her own thighs, her other hand working the mouse. I could see the gentle rhythm of her stroking and in the quiet I could hear her breaths.

She obviously thought I’d be gone until at least 7.00 or so. Don’t get me wrong, I do masturbate, although it is only occasionally, and slightly guiltily. I’d been put off sex generally by my ex boyfriend, who wasn’t very interested and when he was, he always turned it into some big deal. My masturbation sessions almost always took place in the shower, when I knew the house was empty (although clearly you can never be too sure!) and in many ways I would convince myself I was just soaping between my legs until I came …

Standing here, watching Jenn and her beautiful naked body, and her fingers working on herself, was lovely, although the moment I realised this, Jenn turned in horror (she must have sensed my presence), and I gasped in horror too and charged down the hallway to my bedroom. Oh god, I thought, this is so embarrassing. I sat on the edge of the bed, my heart beating wildly, having what might even have been a slight panic attack about what to do, what to say the next time I saw Jenn. Perhaps she’d go out and we could avoid seeing each other for a sakarya escort few days and then pretend nothing happened.

Except then I heard a small knock at the door and Jenn saying quietly “Kath … Kath?” Oh no! “Hallo?” I said. The door opened a few inches and Jenn stood there, in her bathrobe. “Can I come in?” she asked.

“I’m really sorry” I said, “I wasn’t spying, I was just trying to be quiet so that I wouldn’t wake you”. Jenn smiled and looked down. “That’s ok – I feel a bit silly. I just …” She looked as if she was blushing, which I was probably doing too.

“Let’s just forget about it” I said, “it just one of those things …” my voice trailed off because I sounded so lame. Jenn though looked up. “The thing is, Kath” she said, “I find it a bit exciting, I mean you watching me and knowing I was … playing with myself …” I looked at her in stunned silence, and must have blinked a hundred times. She smiled.

“Look” she said, her voice warm and reassuring, “You might hate this, but could you come back into my room and …” she paused for a few seconds, “… watch me some more”. I almost fainted! I had absolutely no idea what to say. And then I heard myself say “Ok”.

I could see Jenn’s whole body relax a little in relief – relief I suppose that I hadn’t been horrified at the thought. I too was amazed that I wasn’t horrified as such, more baffled and, yes, a bit excited. Jenn reached out her hand and I instinctively took it. She gently pulled me to my feet and walked out into the hall and into her bedroom. It was the first time I’d been in her room really, and it was warm and cosy. Her bed was against the wall and there above it was pinned her Gillian Anderson postcard.

“Can you sit down there?” she asked, pointing to the end of the bed. I meekly sat down. “You alright?” Jenn asked, pausing a second. “I … I think so” I said. I watched as Jenn tugged at the cord around her bathrobe, opened it up and then half dropped it, half placed it on the floor, watching me all the time. She had a beautifully trimmed bush, and her body was every bit as lovely as it had seemed before. I envied it. My bush was not nearly as neatly trimmed, and despite my running, I wasn’t the best proportioned of girls.

Jenn climbed onto the bed at the other end, her back against the corner of the wall, underneath Ms Anderson. She raised her knees and parted samsun escort her legs and began immediately to stroke her labia. She used practiced and expert strokes – I thought of my clumsy soaping in the shower – and I felt prickles of heat and stickiness between my own legs. I realised I was still wearing my sweat pants, and I briefly worried that she might see a small wet patch emerging. Now her fingers were starting to work their way inside – one finger, and then two, and at the same time her breaths grew quicker. She started playing with her breasts too, rolling her nipples with the palm of her left hand while her right hand now started on her clit. All the time she watched me intently. “You masturbate too, don’t you?” she asked, her voice become a little husky. I nodded, “I do”. It never occurred to me that it might be a hint. By now I could smell her sex and her movements were becoming more forceful. Her breaths were louder and quicker and for the first time she took her eyes off me and let her head fall back a little.

Her legs began to twitch a little, and then a lot. She appeared to be having an orgasm that rose from deep inside her because her whole body tremored. Her left hand was now clamped to her left breast and the fingers of her right hand worked quickly on her clit. Suddenly she arched her back, looked at me and came with a gasp. I could see her sphincter tightening as by now she had sunk a little lower on the bed. I was dying to thrust my hand between my own legs but somehow I knew I couldn’t do that. She moaned a few times and then stopped her fingers, instead cupping her mound with her whole hand. Beads of sweat were on her forehead, as they must have been mine.

A few seconds later she smiled. “God, that was wonderful … You sure you didn’t mind?”

My mouth was dry so I had to swallow first: “I think I probably enjoyed it!” I was trying to sound carefree and experienced. She smiled again and looked at me a little more intensely. “Do you want to have a go?” My heart was beating so loudly I could almost hear it. “I … don’t think I could do that” I said, and then hurriedly added: “But honestly, I did enjoy it and I’m glad … you did … too”. I was sounding lame again. She smiled, in the way a big sister would do to a fairly useless kid sister. And then she moved forward and kissed me gently on the lips. I could smell her aroma even more strongly now, and daren’t look at my sweat pants because they were bound to have a patch between the legs now.

“Well” she said, “Can we carry on just as we were before this morning?”

“Of course …”

“But can we perhaps do … this … again sometime …?”

Her niceness made me calmer. I nodded. “yes please” I said.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Probably because James was on my mind I awoke around three a.m., restless. I replayed chunks of our conversation over in my mind but it was mostly the unspoken that resonated with me. Looks, smiles, eye contact at the most intimate moments.

I got out of bed in the dark, sliding on a light peignoir over my nudity. The hot day had given over to a warm night.. Glancing out the window, I spied a sliver of moon and heard the chirps of night insects, hugged myself, and moved into the living room. I couldn’t get him out of my mind. I’d excused myself to go to the restroom while we were at the coffee shop; unbeknownst to him, my nether regions had become damp with excitement and I needed a break.

What if he’d come home with me, I thought, instead of being a gentleman and giving me a chaste kiss on the forehead? A shiver coursed through me and in a ray of moonlight through the blinds I spied my nipples perked at attention. Well, then. There was nothing for it but it but to take this fantasy to its pleasurable conclusion.

I stood, eyes closed, legs slightly apart, envisioning us coming to my door, touching a little, but not too much. He’d been perfectly respectful. A bit flirty but not pervy, just enough to make me wonder what it would be like. You know. To have him inside me.

We shared our first kiss before I even shut the door behind us, his warm lips urfa escort on mine, his tongue pushing against my teeth. I obeyed his desire and our tongues wrapped around each other, exploring, exchanging their wet wonder. His hands on my hips, he cupped my buttocks in them, squeezing a little.

Oh god. I returned to my bed and tore off the peignoir. Caressing my breasts, rubbing my nipples, I lay back on the pillows and spread my legs, letting one hand move slowly down my torso, just inside the top end of my vulva. Wet and sticky. My clit throbbed in anticipation.

By now James had divested me of my clothing and his own, keeping our mouths busy the entire time. His hands roamed from my breasts to my pubic hair, tantalizing me with two fingers inside my vulva; stopping short of touching my clit. I pushed my pelvis against his hand, my clit longing for contact, but he pulled back.

“Uhhhhh,” I moaned, and realized I’d been rubbing my clit with my finger. It felt hot and sticky, begging me for more. I ran my finger into my vagina, loosening an explosion of wetness that ran toward my anus; I fervently spread it over my clit and environs, suddenly noticing my shallow breaths.

I grasped his hand and we fell onto my bed, his cock hard and glistening. I gripped it and leaned over him to taste him. With a sigh of bliss he lay back sivas escort while I licked and sucked and familiarized myself with the deliciousness of him. He pushed me back after a few moments, shaking his head, and sat up. “Not yet,” he whispered.

I knew exactly where my vibrator was on the bedside table. With eyes closed in rapturous arousal, I found it, turned it on, and began slowly, stroking against my clit. I squeezed myself around the vibrator and rolled onto my side, shoving it in a little, turning up the speed, and ground myself into it. With my sticky fingers I rubbed my breasts and nipples, breathing hard now as I gyrated my hips.

He kissed me a few more times, and moved me onto my back, his mouth now finding my clit. He flicked at it a few times with his tongue, driving me mad with desire, making me yelp with each touch.

“Like that?” he asked breathlessly.

“God, don’t stop!” I yelled.

Laughing a little, he moved his face into my vulva, licking, exploring my vagina and its wet exudation. I lay there helpless, in thrall to this ultimate joy. He could do anything to me now, I just longed for an orgasm, and was near to exploding. Next thing I knew, he’d moved himself over me, his hard-on grazing my stomach, now poised over my vagina. He spread my legs apart with his hands, kissed my nipples, and entered tekirdağ escort me ever so slightly.

I gasped with anticipation.

Oh but he was a tease!

I continued undulating myself against the vibrator which keened like an overworked blender. I found myself aroused by the sound of it, echoing the desperation of my need. I moved it around with my finger to find the sweet spot against my clit, and squeezed my breasts again. I got close a couple of times, held my breath for that moment of ecstasy.

James pushed my legs upward, his hands on the backs of my knees, and moved inside me. The fullness of him felt so right, so perfect. With each thrust I groaned in pleasure while he breathed hard and his face took on the look of a man intent on his work. The friction against my clit felt so incredible; I concentrated on that while he worked to his own climax.

I got there first, crying out with gasps of ‘oh god!’ with him still pumping inside me, then seconds later I felt him stiffen and let out a low wail, followed by a long, drawn out “ohhhhh.” When he at last pulled out of me, I felt his cum sliding out, too. All that wetness, the mingling of our fluids, the sheer carnality of it – so hot and primal.

At my imagined orgasm, I shoved the vibrator in harder and that did it – I came in undulations of pleasure; the waves coursing down my legs and up my arms. I looked at my nipples; they were rock hard.

In my fantasy, we kissed and showered together, and he stayed the night with me.

I sighed, and went in to rinse off the vibrator, and returned to bed. I’d need it again in a few hours when I’d pretend we woke up horny.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

It is a May afternoon when I decide to take a blanket and book to my favorite place, a meadow on the side of a mountain. After walking on the deserted road for 45 minutes or so, I take the well-worn path into the woods and begin the gradual ascent up the mountain. The coolness of the forest feels good and I am invigorated by the woodsy smells and the soft sounds of birds calling to each other. About halfway up the mountain I see a smaller path branch off to the right. Curious, I take it to see where it goes. After walking further into the forest, I come to a stream with a big fallen tree lying parallel to the stream. What an idyllic spot! I sit down on the tree and gaze at the water gurgling by. I’m transfixed by the sounds and smells all around me. The canopy of trees provides the coolness but in places here and there the sun peeks through, giving a dappled effect on the area where I’m sitting. Looking up at the trees, I am mesmerized by the contrast of the deep blue sky and the green of mersin escort the leaves. I throw one leg over the tree I’m sitting on and lay back to enjoy this moment of solitude.

My mind wanders and little scenarios begin to evolve in my mind of sharing this spot with someone special. I begin to hum a tune stuck in my head, “The Water is Wide”. My left hand begins to caress my belly under my t-shirt, feeling relaxed and quite at home with myself. My right hand brushes my hair up and away from the tree, letting it fall gently. Then my fingers lightly travel down my neck creating a slight tickle that runs through me. I feel my nipples harden in response and begin to move the shirt up as I continue touching my skin. Both hands reach my breasts and I squeeze, and then pinch my nipples. Ooooh, an exquisite tingling begins in my lower belly and my right hand moves to the zipper on my jeans.

As I undo the top button and unzip my pants, I lightly muğla escort brush my pubic hair and move to my outer lips, teasing myself with a touch as soft as a feather. I am feeling a throb-like burning begin between my legs.

SNAP! What was that?! I sit up and look around but everything is just as it was when I arrived at the stream. As I lie back down and resume squeezing my breasts and caressing the apex between my thighs, I am fully aroused now because in my mind I’m imagining that a man is watching me from some hidden spot nearby. Just the thought of that makes me wet and I begin to softly touch my clitoris. I dip my finger into my wet opening for lubrication. Then I move my wet finger up to my clit, brushing by it ever so slightly and I shiver. Then I begin to circle my clit with my fingers, alternatively rubbing and circling it. From time to time I dip my finger inside to get more wetness. I am breathing hard now and remember that someone may be watching nevşehir escort me.

My excitement kicks into high gear as I imagine the hidden man getting excited and start to rub his cock that has magically sprung free from his pants. I lift my right leg up and place my foot on the tree to get better leverage. Then my hips begin the movements so familiar to me; fingers and hips moving in a frenzy now and my head starts to tingle, my breasts are throbbing, and I softly whimper as I feel the orgasm begin to take over my whole body. I quickly slide my finger inside while my thumb works my clit. My body begins to tense and the surge of what feels like electricity spreads through my whole body as I cum and cum and cum.

As I relax, my right hand continues a lazy caress of my clit and surrounding areas. I am totally spent, take a deep breath and put my right foot back down on the ground. My body feels limp with pleasure, the tingling slowly recedes. I look up at the sky through the trees and smile to myself.

After a while, I put my clothes back in order and gather up my blanket and book. It will feel so good to stretch out on the blanket, in the sun and relax in the meadow. As I resume my walk, I smile to myself again and enjoy reliving my secret pleasure.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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Alexis closed her eyes and assumed the position: naked, on her hands and knees. Jared moved up behind her, gave his cock a couple of strokes, spread her ass cheeks and spit on her pucker. He reached underneath and rubbed her exposed pussy, laughing at her repulsive shudder.

“You got a nice puss here, Lex. I might have to tap that one of these days.”

“Fuck you, Jared.”

Pain raced through her body as he wrapped a hand around her ponytail and jerked her upward. “What the fuck did you say? It wasn’t ‘Fuck you, Jared’, was it?”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond, instead choosing to take his anger out on her body. His penis found her abused hole and plunged in, stretching her tender skin and causing her to scream. He laughed again, shoving his rod into her accepting asshole over and over until he was cumming.

Alexis didn’t dare cry. The last time she cried, Jared had forced her to push his cum out of her asshole and eat it. She remained in her position until he pulled out and she heard the sound of his belt buckle clinking as he re-dressed himself.

“Thanks, Lex. Nice to have a good fuck at home.” And he slammed the door behind him.

Alexis Hammond collapsed on her bed, finally allowing the sobs she’d swallowed to emerge as her brother’s semen leaked from her asshole. What did I do to deserve this? God didn’t answer her prayer. She knew he wouldn’t. If he answered prayers, he would have stopped this two years ago when Jared’s vicious assaults began.

Slowly, she sat up, stood and hobbled to the bathroom, stripping and stepping into the shower. Under the hot spray, she scrubbed every inch of her body, taking extra time to cleanse her sore anal cavity. God, I hate my life! She toweled off, put on fresh clothes and grabbing her windbreaker, headed downstairs.

Her father, Greg, was seated in front of the television, avidly watching a Redwings hockey game and Jared swaggered in, giving her a sly smile while handing their father another beer.

“I’m going for a walk, Daddy.”

“Okay.” Her father threw the word over his shoulder, his attention focused on the game.

Jared grinned, leering at her. “Want me to go with you?”

Her stomach lurched and she forced down the urge to vomit. “No, thanks. See you later.”

The cool afternoon air felt good on her skin and she allowed her spirit to soar in the waning sunlight. She always loved taking walks with her mother. Together, they’d cross hill and dale, exploring for hours and hours upon, not caring about the world that swirled around them. And she could always count on her mother for protection. Once cancer spirited her away, Alexis was left alone, preyed upon by her own brother and ignored by her father. Why me?

The shops that lined the avenue were typical of a small village. David Joseph had a woodworking shop. Pierre Joubert owned the local hardware as well as a repair shop, making house calls on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Sally Andrews ran a baby shop, a boon for her considering that she had six children and her sister, Lora Hallsey, operated a confectionary. There were other shops but she didn’t much care about them because she had no use for them.

A drug store-slash-pharmacy, a men’s wear shop, a bakery and a grocery store, complete with a regular butcher completed the block but today, Alexis noticed that there was something different. In the tiny corner, where Archibald Rattern’s hobby shop used to be, now existed a new venture. A 2″ x 8″ clapboard shingle announced: The Puzzlemaker.

A sense of joy sprung up in Alexis. She adored, no, loved puzzles. Her mother always gave her a puzzle each month and after she’d completed it, they walked the mile-and-a-half to Hawksbury Home. The home for elderly patients enjoyed their donations and the fine nursing staff always enjoyed kütahya escort their visits. With a spring in her step, Alexis walked up to the door and turned the knob.

The stench of decades assailed her nostrils, thick and itchy, making her frown in disdain but she pressed inward. The display in the window, an ancient child’s pressed cardboard puzzle, brought to mind the toys that her mother had played with as a child. Simple and colorful, these puzzles were meant for working the child’s mind and nothing more. Not like the ones that Alexis favored. The more difficult the puzzle was, the better she liked it. Complication worked her mind like a scrub brush, loosening the detritus of her life and washing it away.

“See anything you like?”

Alexis jumped when she heard the gravelly voice and turned to greet the owner of the store, Owen Kinkaid. “Not yet.” She stuttered, still trembling from the initial shock. “I haven’t seen everything yet.”

“Well, take your time, missy. We have all kinds of puzzles here and if you don’t find one to suit your needs, we can make one for you.”

“Really? That sounds cool! How do you do it?”

“Well, I can’t tell you that, missy! It’s a trade secret.” He winked and she couldn’t help but grin back at the heavyset man. “But I can tell you that we can make a puzzle out of anything that can be scanned.”

“Oh, like a photo?”

“Sure. Photos, drawings … whatever you like. I did a real nice one of some Japanese anime last week.” Alexis was staring at a glass-encased panel that showed puzzles that previous customers had requested, noticing that a lot of them were sexual in nature. “That’s the one from last week.” She jumped at the nearness of his voice and a chill tiptoed down her spine as her eyes surveyed his handiwork.

The puzzle’s dimensions were small, compared to the 2,000 piece size that she usually favored but the cuts were interesting and intricate, the insides polished and gleaming. But it was the photo that had been used that intrigued her.

It was a still from a Japanese hentai movie, animated sex that was graphically drawn in a cartoon-like method. The woman, with a short dark bob, was clutching her nipples, her head thrown back as a kneeling male plundered her sex. Her pussy was magnificently limned, the swollen folds turgid with blood and her opening gushing with slick, creamy juice. A strange feeling coursed through her as she looked at the man’s thick pole and she was surprised to feel a tremor of lust flood her unused pussy.

“Good, isn’t it?”

“Uh, y-yes. Quite good.” She couldn’t shake the feeling. Her face grew warm and her nipples responded, puckering into hard points beneath her shirt. Alexis couldn’t see the woman’s nipples but she knew, without a doubt, that hers was as hard. She kept staring and was startled to hear a faint cry, the cry of a woman who was enjoying a moment of sexual bliss. The cry sounded again, a little louder this time and was followed by the grunt of a man. As the sounds echoed in her head, Alexis found it increasingly difficult to breathe. Her heart began to hammer in her chest and warm liquid slicked her pussy lips. “So what do you think?”

Again, Owen’s voice startled her and the sounds stopped abruptly, causing her to wonder if she was losing her sanity. “What do I think?”

“Yes. Would you like one of our pre-made puzzles or would you rather order a custom-made job?”

“I think I’d like to see your pre-made puzzles.”

Owen led her over to two large glass cases in which there were several completed puzzles in various shapes and sizes. The photos used were different also. Some were of animals, some of landscapes and some of naked men and women, some together, some alone.

One in particular caught her eye. It was a picture manisa escort of a kimono-clad woman that closely resembled her. The woman’s long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, curling around her neck and sending silky tendrils down to wrap around her nipples. Her back was slightly curved over a bank of purple pillows with gold braid and her legs were spread wide, her fingers buried in the ruby throat of her pussy. A river of cream, ending in pearly drops decorated the bottom of her opening, leaking and dripping down onto her asshole. It was very erotic and sensual.

But it was the expression on the woman’s face that drew Alexis’ attention. It was a look of pure bliss, of wanton release and it was so … she heard a deep intake of breath, husky and passionate, filled with heat. Alexis felt her face flush and pointed the puzzle out to Owen, who smiled widely.

“That’s a fine choice, missy, if I may say so myself. The detail on her kimono is worth the purchase alone but her face … “

“Yes,” Alexis interrupted, nearly holding her breath as he lifted the piece from the cabinet. “Her face is … lovely.”

Owen smiled again. “Lovely doesn’t do it justice.” He set it on the counter where she could examine it more closely and bent to retrieve a beautifully-worked wooden box. Under her watchful eye, he carefully began to disassemble the puzzle, reverently laying the pieces in the container. “Want to feel how nicely done it is?”

“Sure.” Alexis held her hand out and he pressed the piece into her palm, drawing a yelp from her. The piece dropped to the floor and Alexis gazed at the burgeoning bead of blood that was growing in the center of her palm.

Owen was appalled and he rushed to grab a tissue, pressing it into her hand. “Oh, God! I’m so sorry! Must be a splinter or something I didn’t sand well enough.”

“It’s all right.”

“Really, I am sorry. That’s never happened before. My puzzles are usually spot-on perfect. I must’ve missed an edge on this one.”

“It’s all right, Mr. Kinkaid. Really it is.” Alexis wiped the blood away, shoving the used tissue in her pocket. “I still want it.”

The look of apprehension fled Owen’s face and he picked up the piece, setting inside the box and firmly attaching the lid. “Then please take this. With my regards.”

“Oh, Mr. Kinkaid! I couldn’t take this!”

“It’s the least I can do, seeing that you suffered an injury due to my poor workmanship.”

“Oh, please don’t say that! Your puzzles are the most beautiful that I’ve ever seen.”

Kinkaid smiled, handing her the box. “I thank you for your kind words, missy and I hope that you’ll enjoy the puzzle.”

Alexis took the box, ignoring the impolite sting in the center of her palm and cradled the item with a slight smile on her face. “I will, sir, and thank you.”

“Come back soon.”

* * * * *

Thankfully, when she returned home, the house was dark. Her father was in bed asleep and her brother was passed out drunk in front of the TV set. Alexis carefully, quietly picked her way through the living room and hurried up the stairs, turning the lock on her door when she was safely inside. No hi-jinks tonight, she thought happily then paused, realizing that it was the first time that she’d smiled in a long time.

With that and the freedom from his intrusion in mind, Alexis took a long, hot bath, letting the healing heat of the water seep into her bones as the scent of vanilla musk steeped in her skin. Thirty minutes later, toasty warm and clad in a terry robe, Alexis finally allowed herself to open the lacquered box, her stubby fingers tracing the inlaid wood patterns as she set the lid aside. The gleaming pieces tumbled across her coverlet, their riotous colors bringing a smile to her face. So beautiful …

She mardin escort started with the outside edges which didn’t amount to very many since the puzzle was 300 pieces. It was then that she noticed that one of the outer pieces was the one that pricked her hand. She checked it carefully and found that the splinter was gone, the edges smoothed and pleasing to the touch. Once the outer frame was completed, she began on the inside portion and ninety minutes passed quickly, her attention solely focused on the puzzle.

Under her expert fingers, the young woman came to life, her cheeks rosy, her hair dark and glossy. The turquoise kimono with ruby-breasted peacocks and the gold-braided pillows were easy to match but her skin was the most difficult to match. Alabaster mixed with cream and it became necessary to try each piece against another instead of doing the usual eyeballing the piece and instantly fitting it into place by shape and color.

Finally, it was done. Alexis fitted the last piece into place and sat back, gazing at the beautiful colors that had unfurled before her. Again, the woman’s face caught her, resonating with something inside her, something that made an inner heat rise from the core of her virgin honey hole. She leaned back against the headboard of her bed and gazed at the completed puzzle, her legs opening and her hand stealing in between.

Alexis wasn’t sure what had happened but all of a sudden, her fingers were sliding over her untried mound, stroking the hairs and pressing against the flesh underneath. She had tried to masturbate before but the image of her brother always reared its ugly head. Ever since her mother had died, Jared had owned her sexuality. Now, she felt differently. The skin covering her mound responded to her touch and she let her fingers smooth the flesh, awakening nerve endings that had slumbered for far too long.

Her eyes closed as the sash to her robe loosened, allowing the garment to fall open and her naked body gleamed in the soft light. Her fingers probed her own slit, sliding deep into the cleft, the silky juice gathering on her fingertip. Her clit arose in its hidden space, eluding discovery until she opened her legs further, her hips tilting upward. The contact was electric; her extra-sensitive clit throbbed in response and she fought the urge scream aloud, the sensations scorching her body. She dared to drag her finger against it again and her body arched in the air, a deep shudder running through her.

Alexis gasped, fear stabbing through her chest with a hot spike of adrenalin as her fingers moved lower. She felt so strange, almost as if she was a puppet and someone else was pulling her strings. The feeling passed quickly as she sunk two fingers into her quivering hole and a husky moan escaped her, accompanied by another shudder. It felt so good that she repeated the action again, then again until she’d found a steady rhythm, slowly stroking the inner petals and tender pink muscle.

A ball of heat formed in the bottom of her stomach, building with each stroke and setting her skin to tingling. Goosebumps arose across her body and her nipples ached in need but she couldn’t attend to them. Not now. Her first orgasm was speeding towards her and all Alexis could do was hold on to her covers, panting and plunging her fingers into her quim until …

Something inside her pussy exploded and the most glorious feeling she’d ever experienced in her entire life burst through her body. The walls of her cunt closed around her fingers and her cream coated them, squeezing out and dripping down the crack of her ass. Sweaty, sated and exhausted, Alexis finally removed her fingers, trembling with the aftershocks of her very first orgasm and closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath. It took several minutes before she was able to sit up and she gasped yet again as she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

She looked exactly like the woman in the puzzle, except that she was past her moment of bliss. Another chill streaked through her body and she lay down next to it, her eyes closing as sleep stole her senses from her.

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This is part three in my ED Chronicles series. I recommend that you read parts one and two to fully enjoy the backstory. All characters are over the age of 50.

*****

The experience that Sue and I had with Marge on our sun porch was totally out of the ordinary for us. As I had mentioned before, Susan and I had shared fantasies during our lovemaking. I know that Susan was a bit more sexually adventurous before we were married than what I believe your average woman was, but in our many years of marriage Susan and I were definitely monogamous.

Since Marge was a widow and good friends with Susan, I almost felt as if Susan was doing her a favor by letting her watch us make love. Although I did not know the extent of their conversations during their many hours of having coffee, cooking, or going for long walks, I do not think the occurrence on the porch was intentionally planned, it just happened. However, some nagging questions kept popping into my mind.

Our sex life in our 50’s had definitely blossomed. The freedom of having the house and property to ourselves most of the time, the level of comfort of our marriage, and the addition of my ED treatments, had all combined for a wonderful mix of increased sexuality.

We definitely tried to vary our sexual repertoire. I did not like using the ED injections all of the time and Susan was perfectly fine with that. I also had a penis pump, plus we used a combination of oral, toys, home-made videos, etc… to enhance our lovemaking. However the experience with Marge had taken it to a whole new level. A level that I felt Susan and I should talk about.

“We need to talk Sue,” I said as I walked into our kitchen on a sunny Wednesday morning.

Several days had gone by since the voyeuristic episode on our sun porch. We had not had a chance to voice our feelings about it and I had made some assumptions that Susan was okay with what had transpired or she would have stopped it. Truth be known, in the back of my mind, I had some nagging questions that she was probably the instigator of the incident. These thoughts made for an array of confused emotions that needed to be aired.

“I think I know what you want to talk about honey,” replied Susan.

“Sue, I thought you were totally against anyone, I mean anyone, seeing us naked, let alone engaged in a sex act. The fact that you seemed to want it to happen has me a bit confused?” I explained.

“I think the reason ‘why’ it happened is complex,” Sue responded. “First, I was not planning on it at all. Marge and I during some of our conversations talked about how our sex life has bloomed nicely and honestly I was sort of bragging about the size of your penis after using the injections. In addition, I feel so comfortable with Marge and I feel sort of sad for her. You know she has become like a sister to me. Although she is very attractive, she has not been intimate with anyone in years and I think she misses the intimacy with other people yet she does not want the hassle of dating or hooking up.”

Susan continued “I know you think that it seemed to go against my personality, but it just felt right at the time. Also, to be brutally honest, there was a part of me that really enjoyed putting on a show for her. That part excited me greatly! Be honest, you seemed to enjoy showing off for her as well.”

“I have to admit that I had a flurry of mixed emotions when it started, then I sort of figured out that you kind of wanted it to continue, so I just went with the moment,” I said. “And yes, it ended up being very erotic and exciting.”

“I also have something to tell you that you did not know,” Susan said looking at me sheepishly in the eye.

“What?” I asked, feeling some apprehension.

Susan walked across the room and placed her hand on my arm, “This is not the first time that Marge has seen us making love,” Susan said with a quiet tone.

“When?” I asked, shocked by this new revelation.

“It has been a while, but she confided in me that she had seen us when we were making love out behind the barn two summers ago. You and I were fooling around on the old downed tree behind the barn.” Susan related.

“How the hell did that happen? We are out in the middle of nowhere and on our own land! You would think that we would have some privacy out in the country wouldn’t you?” I responded, not angrily but surprised that someone had actually seen us.

“Well, if you recall dear, the fields were down at the time and Marge was walking by our house. She stopped on a whim and knocked on the door and got no answer. She knew we were home because the vehicles were here. She looked around the property thinking that maybe we were working in the garden or something.”

“Or something!” I said. “I am sure were gave her quite an eyeful!”

“Yes, we did. She told me she watched us from around the corner of the barn.”

“Well that ole vixen,” I responded. “Do you think she masturbated while watching us?” I amusingly queried.

“I don’t know, kuşadası escort maybe, but it’s not really like that,” Susan retorted. “It is not so much about lust as it is about Marge being lonely, she enjoyed watching our intimacy. That is why it was so natural for her the other day to watch us make love. We are friends with her first and foremost and I think she enjoys seeing our love. It reminds her of experiences from years past.”

“So are you comfortable with it happening again in the future?” I had to ask.

“I suppose if the situation is right, just like it was the other day, I would be okay with that,” Sue said. Then with a smirk on her face she looked at me and said, “Not that this is going to be a regular occurrence you naughty boy, but I know that you enjoyed it.”

“Well, um, err, yes, it was rather exhilarating knowing that someone was watching us and getting sexually turned on by it! It is one of those things that comes out of left field that you never imagine in a million years would involve you, you know what I mean?”

Sue looked at me intently and said, “I know exactly what you mean. Despite the whole emotional connection I have to Marge, there was this whole animalistic sexual desire that stirred deep down inside. Not that I am sexually attracted to Marge, but that fact that she was watching us screw like a couple of teenagers made me very excited indeed. And truth be known, and I would only tell you this, I think I have a bit of a voyeuristic side.”

“I guess I can see that. I think there is a part of you that likes to be watched,” I responded with an attitude that ‘I knew’ my wife of several decades. “You have always liked dressing up sexy and having me take pictures of you.”

“You do you remember when we double dated with Alan and his girlfriend?” Sue asked with a raised eyebrow and a little smirk.

“Wow Sue, that was thirty five years ago and we were in high school. I almost had forgotten.” Sue was referring to a time when we double dated with my best friend Alan and his girlfriend back in High School. We had double dated several times, but there was one time that was different from the rest.

Like normal teenagers growing up in the 70’s we would go ‘parking’ in the country with our girls. We would usually have a couple beers and engage in ‘make out’ sessions with the girls. On occasion these sessions would go farther than just heavy petting. On particular night after a few beers we were all feeling rather horny, as teenagers go. We were on a double date and Alan was driving. It was cold out and Sue and I were in the backseat. One thing led to another and before long all of us were naked. Alan was fucking his girlfriend on the front bench seat and Sue and I were fucking in the backseat. There was no swapping or cross touching but there was plenty of ogling and all of us being naked and screwing in such close confines was definitely exhilarating. You never really forget the sights, smells, and sounds. I stood their staring off in the distance and remembering that night. Sue then pushed me on the shoulder with a smile on her face as she turned toward the counter and busied herself with kitchen chores.

“I need to run to the farm store and get a filter and oil, you want to come along?” I asked.

“No honey, you run along. I have a lot on my plate today. This house is a mess and I have to get some things cooking for supper. I love you and be careful.”

Nothing else was said about the subject, although it did take me a while to get my thoughts back on the tasks at hand, but soon life went on at its normal fast pace for several weeks. Marge, as usual, was a regular visitor to our house, as well as Sue visiting her. We had several occasions where just the three of us were alone and nothing out of the ordinary or sexual was brought up. However little did I know, that was about to change.

It was a cool Thursday evening about three weeks after the conversation that Sue and I had about voyeurism in the kitchen. Sue and I were sitting on our enclosed porch enjoying that last rays of sun as it set in the Western sky with a glass of post dinner wine. We heard a light knock on the porch door. Sue got up and returned within a few seconds with Marge.

“Hey sailor!” Marge exclaimed as she entered the porch. I detected a fresh light scent upon the breeze with her entrance. She was dressed elegantly causal, with a black and white striped shirt, white capris, and brown sandals. Sue and I were both dressed casually, with Sue wearing a characteristic yellow sundress and I had khaki shorts and t-shirt.

“Hi Marge,” I answered. “Would you care for a glass of wine? We were just enjoying one of the last few beautiful evenings that we are going to see before it starts getting too cool.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” said Marge as Sue quickly ran into the kitchen and retrieved another wineglass. Sue re-entered the porch and handed me the glass, which I promptly filled about half-way with the red sweet kocaeli escort wine we were sipping.

I handed Marge her glass of wine. Marge was seated on a loveseat with a small coffee table in front of her. I was seated in a high back wicker chair and Sue was standing facing both Marge and I, leaning against an antique waist high cabinet that sat against a wall.

The small talk seemed to trail on for hours and the three of us finished the bottle of wine and opened a second. I could tell Sue was getting a bit tipsy. She would enjoy a glass of wine with me on the porch or the occasional strawberry daiquiri when we went out to eat, but for the most part she was a light drinker.

In the middle of our ongoing conversations Sue was starting to get a bit silly and she blurted out, “Do you think I am starting to look fat?” directing her question to the open room. “I have been eating too much ice cream lately.”

Now my wife was 5’2″ and tipped the scales at 108 lbs. Being overweight was one thing that she wasn’t. But I understood how women would concern themselves with such things, and Sue was no exception.

“Honey,” I retorted. “You have one of the best figures there is, with a flat tummy and not an ounce of flab. And I should know.”

Marge chimed in, “Sue, you’ve got to be kidding. For 50 you are a knockout! You are the only gal I know that actually lost weight after having kids instead of blowing up like a balloon and you kept the weight off, truly amazing.”

“I wish my tummy was a flat as yours Marge,” said sue lifting her dress to expose her tummy and much to our surprise. Sue was wearing yellow colored shorts under the dress. Her actions however, clearly demonstrated that the alcohol was taking its toll, as I could tell her inhibitions had dropped a little.

“Oh poppycock!” Marge said, lifting her black and white striped shirt to expose a tan, flat tummy that would have looked more appropriately on a twenty something female. For 60 Marge was in excellent shape and you could make out the definition of her abs.

I smirked as the two held their clothing up looking at each other’s tummy.

“Your tummy is still flatter that mine!” said Sue.

“I am also much taller that you are hun,” Replied Marge.

With a swift motion Sue lifted her sundress over her head and let it fall to her side. She then pushed herself up and sat on the edge of the cabinet that she had been leaning against. She was still dressed in a pair of shorts and a white lacey bra-lette.

Sue had small but perky tits. There were great for 50. They had a bit of sag, but as she often said, “These were working breasts”, having nursed all of our children.

The room went silent for an awkward moment, and then all three of us started laughing.

“I know someone who has had too much to drink, whada ya think Jack?” Marge asked me jokingly.

“Yea, she won’t be so friendly about it, come morning,” I replied.

“I think it’s getting hot in here, don’t you think it’s hot in here?” Sue said.

“Famous last words,” I replied in a smart-ass tone.

“I will be right back, I have to freshen up,” Sue said as she left the porch. Marge and I engaged in some small talk about how we thought Sue was getting a bit more than tipsy and that we had better cut off her wine supply when she gets back. Little did we know that Sue, feeling tipsy from the wine, had some erotically mischievous ideas in her head and had left the room to hatch a plan.

The sun had set and the porch was lit with a dim yellow glow of a single lamp that was in the far corner of the room. The room got quiet and Marge and I sat there listening to the sounds of the country in the early evening. The crickets could be clearly heard along with the faint, yet distinctive, sound of a locust in the distance.

I was wondering what was taking Sue so long.

I was the first to look up and see Sue standing in the doorway of the porch. My jaw dropped. Marge, who was looking down, looked my way, and then turned to look at the object of my gaze. Marge got a smirk on her face.

There stood Sue in the doorway to the porch in a negligée. Her black hair had been let down. The negligée was peach colored and very see through. Clearly she was wearing nothing underneath as her naked body could be dimly seen through the sheer material.

She was holding something that I could not quite make out in her left hand as she moved across the room and resumed her previous position on the edge of the antique cabinet. She placed the mystery objects behind her and out of sight when she sat down.

I cleared my throat, clearly impressed by what I saw, and Marge muttered, “My sentiments exactly.”

Sue looked at both of us and said, “Oh stop it! You too are behaving like a couple of shocked teenagers. We are all adults here. I told you I was getting warm and now I feel much better.”

“Don’t you think the wine is influencing your actions just a little bit?” I said konya escort to my wife.

“Oh, maybe it gave me the nudge I needed. After all you were the one who said I had a voyeuristic side,” Sue said to me with a naughty look on her face.

In a moment of clarity Sue spoke up, “Listen the three of us has already experienced something special. We are at a special time in our lives where we are comfortable with our relationships and we know our boundaries.”

“But Sue,” I said, “You may have talked about certain things with Marge, but ‘we’ have not talked about certain things with Marge.”

“Well clearly Marge was comfortable with what happened before, so knowing what I know about her, I know that my actions are fine,” Sue said in a more authoritative tone.

“Besides, I feel like having a little fun,” said Sue.

“And to get this fun started…,” Sue exclaimed as she lifted her negligée up and over her head and laid it neatly beside herself.

“Holt shit!” I thought to myself. There was my beautiful wife, sitting on the edge of the cabinet stark naked. She was clearly excited as her small nipples were very erect and I could just make out what appeared to be her pussy lips glistening.

I looked my wife up and down, as I have hundreds of times before. However there was something different. Besides being a little tipsy and acting uncharacteristically frisky something in her physical appearance had changed.

Within a few seconds it dawned on me what the change was and I couldn’t have been more pleased. She had completely shaved her pussy! The reason I could see her pussy lips glistening from excitement was because there was no hair, none, nada. We had talked about it before, but she had never shaved up completely. Admittedly I found her hot either way, but this definitely added to the excitement.

“Now, I am not going to be the only completely naked person on this porch, so both of you stand and strip!” Sue’s voice barked out orders to the both Marge and myself.

“No Wait!” Sue stammered. “I changed my mind. I want you two stand and strip one at a time. Jack you first,” ordered Sue.

“Sue, really?” I was completed surprised by her bravado, however in the back of my mind it also turned me on greatly.

“Yes Jack, stand and drop your trousers now!” she humorously said.

Taking my time I slowly stood. Although I suffer from erectile dysfunction I definitely had a semi rigid hard on by now. I reached down and slipped off each one of my sandals. I then went to lift my tank top over my head when Sue said, “Stop Jack! I said drop your pants first. As a matter of fact drop your pants then your underwear first, before you take off your top. I want to see that cock!” again smiling.

I was shocked by Sue’s boldness. Marge had a look of surprise on her face as well.

I obeyed. I unfastened my Khakis, which were loose fitting to begin with, and they fell to the floor, my semi rigid cock filling up my underwear nicely. Before my erectile dysfunction I had a fairly large cock measuring in at about 8 ½ inches when fully erect. So even though I now needed medical help to achieve a hard enough erection for penetration, I can easily get to solid half-mast when excited and I also still have normal orgasms without any problems, and right now I was starting to get pretty excited.

“Ok now the underwear,” demanded Sue. I started taking down my underwear as Sue said, “Slowly, slowly, let that chubby cock spring free.” I slowly pulled them down my underwear and right on queue my half-rigid cock sprung free when the elastic band released its grip.

“Very nice,” said Sue as she looked at my semi rigid cock. “Now remove your shirt.”

I lifted my tank top over my head and laid it down on the floor. I now stood completely naked in front of my naked wife and our clothed neighbor. I was always under the impression that women were not as visually stimulated as men. However, my wife’s actions as of late had me changing my mind and at this moment she and Marge were both staring at my body. I was a bit conscientious about my cock only being at half-mast, but I have to admit, that it still looked pretty good. Sue started rubbing her tits with her left hand.

“Nice,” Sue said again, “Spin around once for us Jack.” Then Sue looked at Marge and said, “Not too bad for an old man, wadda ya think?”

I will be the first to admit that I am definitely no Greek Adonis, but I am not in too bad a shape for being in my mid-fifties. I had a pretty good tan and a fairly flat abdomen. My tan lines were clearly visible as I stood there naked.

I looked over at Marge who was smiling. I could see that her nipples were erect and poking through her top. Although she was acting pretty reserved she was giving off nuances of being quite excited.

“Ok Marge honey, stand up and strip,” said Sue, who was clearly getting into her new role as being boss.

“Oh Sue…,” Marge falsely rebuffed.

I was beginning to think that I should add femdom, besides voyeurism, to my wife’s list of growing fantasies since she was clearly getting off ordering us to perform for her.

“C’mon Marge, it’s only fair. After all you have seen Jack and I naked much more than we have seen you,” Sue said using guilt as a bargaining chip.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Oh, the sun! It seems I have not seen it forever. Now, you have opened the drawer and the morning sun spills over me and the socks. I pause for a moment to pray to the vibrator Gods that you have opened to door to retrieve me and not a pair of socks. The fates could not be so cruel.

And then your hand brushes against me and I shiver in my sock sleeping bag. It has been far too long since I have felt your touch. I need your touch. I really do.

When I feel your fingers curl around me and begin to lift me from this sorrowful bed of socks, I nearly begin to weep. And then you are peeling the socks off of me and soon I am naked to your gaze. Your fingers begin to slide softly along my plastic exterior as you sigh. I sigh. I am in heaven when you hold me.

I knew all along that Mr. Right would not be able to keep you satisfied for long. You have such needs, my love. Unquenchable needs that make you burn with longing deep into the night. I am the one that can help. I am the one.

I knew eventually you would grow tired of him. He has too many needs. I have no needs. None at all. All I kahramanmaraş escort need to do is please you.

And here we are. Your fingers move over me possessively and I would cry if I could. You drop the socks forgotten upon the dresser as you take me to your bed. Yes.

A fresh pack of batteries rest in your other hand as you lay down; thighs spread, and begin to rub me against your wet and heated sex.

This is what I was meant for, to bring you joy and pleasure. I can hear your soft sweet moans of pleasure as you slide me along your pussy lips. I wait patiently to slip within them. It is my destiny.

Let me take you. Or take me. It does not matter as long as I can feel myself inside you. As long as you let me fill you with my warm plastic life. Feel the molded veins along my sides. I feel nearly real, don’t I? So please, oh please, slip me inside.

And then I am. Buried inside your soft wet sex canal. You push me even deeper before your long lean fingers switch me on. That’s it, darling. Mr. Stinky is home.

He could never kastamonu escort do you like this. Feel me vibrating inside you. Feel your warmth penetrating me, making me warm from the inside out. Feel me sliding in and out without pausing. He doesn’t have my staying power. He will never be me.

You pause to take your nipples between your fingers and pinch. I know how you love that. I wish I could play with your nipples for you but you have left me here, inside you. This is better. Much better. I continue to purr with pleasure inside your plush pussy as your nipples harden, ripen, like cherries on the top of mounds of vanilla ice cream. I want to bury myself inside those mounds. I really do.

Then your fingers move back down to my base. Then you are again sliding me in and out of your succulent sheath. Then again I am vibrating and shaking inside you, making you more and more aroused by the minute.

Yes, baby. Use Mr. Stinky to reach the peak of your pleasure. Mr. Stinky is here for you. Morning noon and night. And he is never too tired or too drunk. kayseri escort He just wants to fuck you. Again and again. Never stopping.

Oh let me fuck you, baby. I can feel you pushing me in and out harder, faster, and deeper. I can hear your soft sighs of pleasure turning into sobs that grow louder and longer in intensity. You are a needy slut today, aren’t you? I guess Mr. Right hasn’t been fulfilling his duties. Doesn’t matter. Mr. Stinky is ready, willing and able.

I’m going to fuck you good, baby. Yes I am. Turn that vibrator on to high and lay back. Time to let me earn my keep. Time to let Mr. Stinky drive you over the top.

Those fingers of yours move me faster. I can hear the change in your breathing. You are getting closer. Mr. Stinky wants to hear it. Give it to Mr. Stinky. Loud and long, baby. Give it to me.

And then, there it is. You cry out loudly as you cum. I feel your juices sliding along my length, getting me so wet. I moan myself with pleasure. Your hips lift off the mattress as you ride me to the top. You get every bit you can out of me. Your groans and moans slowly begin to fade. And then you are quiet.

After a while, you slip me out. You carry me into the bathroom where you clean me off. And after you dry me, you slide me back inside my sock sleeping bag. And then you stick me back in the drawer amongst the socks. And then you close it, leaving me in the dark once more.

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