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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.

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

EVLİ ÇİFTLE GRUPÖncelikle kendimden bahsedeyim 28 yaşındayım. İyi eğitimli ve kültürlüyüm. Kıbrısta yaşıyorum. Öyle abaza tiplerden değilim sürekli bir ilişkim war ve gayet güzel bi seks hayatım var.Boş zamanlarımda internete çok takılırım. Yabancı bir internet sitesine üye olmuştum fakat ilk başta aradığımı bulamamıştım aradığıma gelince safi sex arayan bi aç değilim sadece değişiklik arıyordum. Evli çift evli bayan yani kısacası grup sex. Tam ümidimi kestiğim sırada bi msj geldi ilk başta çokta ciddiye almadım ama fotoğraf falan yolladılar telde konustuktan sonra emin oldum daha doğrusu denemeye karar verdim. Çevremden dolayı bu işlerin gizliliği benim için çok önemli ve çok çekiniyordum. Lafı fazla uzattım hikayeme geçeyim. Beni ekleyen çiftle mesajlaşmalardan ve telefon konusmalarından sonra buluşmaya karar verdik.Girneyi bilenler bilir eziç premier restaurantta buluşmak üzere sözleştik. Çok heyecanlanmıştım bu benim için bir ilk olacakt ama denemeye değer diye düşündüm ve kendimi olayların akışına bıraktım. Acaba nasıl insanlardı tüm bu heyecanla eziçe gittim içeriye girdim fakat onları bulamadım telefon açtım ve gürkan bey kapıya geldi gürkan 50 55 yaşlarında 180 boylarında yaşlıca bir adamdı dedim eyvah karısıda böyleyse yandık :). Masalarına doğru ilerledik bizi masada bir afetbekliyordu 45 yaşında olmasına rağmen hiç yaşını göstermeyen bi güzelliği wardı sarı saçlı küt kesilmiş saçlar, 1,70 1,75 boy muhteşem bir fizik. Selamlaştık merhaba ben orkun deyip öptüm merhaba ben gül dedi tanışma faslını geçmiştik. Heyecandan tir tir titriyordum bi yandanda biraz sonra bu afeti sikecek olmanın hayaliyle yanıp tutuşuyordum. Masada epey muhabbet ettik hayatlarımızdan neler yaptığımızdan falan. yemeklerimizi söyleyip yedik ve birer kadeh kırmızı şarap içtik. Gerçekten çok cana yakın insanlardı hemen kaynaştık sanki yıllardır tanışıyorduk. Sonra kahveyi evlerinde içmeyi teklif ettiler tabiki kabul ettim. gülle gürkan kendi arabalarıyla tokat escort bende peşlerinden kendi arabamla evlerine doğru çatalköye dedeman otelin yukarısındaki villara kadar geldik. Nihayet evlerine varmıştık. Dubleks yazlık tarzı iyi döşenmiş bi evleri vardı içeriye geçtik ve onlar şaraba devam etti bende viski aldım. Gülün muhteşem bi vücudu vardı görseniz en fazla 30 dersiniz. siyah pantalonun altına giydiği tanga belli oluyor ve gögüs çatalı beni deli ediyordu. Kocası karşı koltuğa oturdu gül geldi yanıma oturdu önce ufaktan el şakalarıyla başladık salondaki deri koltuğun üstünde. Güle sarıldım ve öpüşmeye başladık boynunu yalıyor kulak memelerini emiyordum ellerimlede kalçalarını avuçluyordum. kocasıda bizi izliyor devam edin diyordu. Kalkan sikimi boxerdan çıkarttım öyle milletinki gibi 23 25 cm deil 17 18 cm kalın damarlı siki gülün eline verdim oda sikimi okşamaya başladı kocasıysa sadece izliyordu. Sonra yukarıya yatak odasına çıkmayı teklif ettiler ve hemen cıktım gül okadar azgındı ki sikimden çekerek çıkarttı beni yukarıya. Soyunmaya başladık gülün üstünü çıkarrtım siyah dantelli bi sutyeni vardı altını soyduğumdaysa muhteşem manzarayla karşılaştım siyah dantelli bir tanga ve jartiyer takımı. o sapsarı vücut siyahlar içinde muhteşem duruyordu. Tekrar öpüşmeye başladık ve onu yataga uzattım. bu arada gürkanda soyunmuş 12 13 cm lik sikini karısının ağzına vermiş sakso çektiriyordu. Ben gülün boynundan başladım gögüslerine doğru indim ve sutyenden kurtardım onu. meme uçları dim sik ve kahve rengiydi onları emmeye ellerimle göüslerini sıkmaya başladım gülde zevke gelmiş ıhh lamaya başlamıştı. Sikle dolu ağzıyla bişeyler söylüyordu. Sabaha kadar sikin beni tüm deliklerimi doldurun demye başladı. göğüslerinden sonra altına indim tangasının kenarından amını yalamaya başladım tertemiz pürüzsüz sanki bebek vücüdu gibiydi amı. İnanın insanın yaladıkça yalayası geliyor. 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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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.

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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.

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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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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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/* Writer’s note: if you are here for the main event skip to below the line. Everything before that is foreplay. 😉 */

There are phrases that, when delivered with the proper build-up, can make a girl throw caution to the wind. This is the story of the day that a man said one of those sweet phrases to me and changed my life forever. The day that started the weekend that gobbled up what little innocence I had left, shaping me for my future.

It was a Friday in late April, only a few weeks after my 21st birthday. I was waiting for a friend to show up at the cafe, then we were going to walk through the city in spring time looking at new flowers and chatting about our plans for summer break. I’d been waiting for her for far too long – I had just ordered a second coffee – when she texted me saying that she’d forgotten. If I hadn’t already ordered that coffee…well, I had. And I was darn well going to drink it.

While waiting I became aware of the attention of a man sitting across the cafe. He was average height and had rather lean in build. I would have guessed about 25. Pale skin that looked like it would never tan and dark hair. I probably wouldn’t have looked twice at him in any other circumstance. In fact, the only reason I noticed him was he had looked twice at me. He kept glancing furtively over at me and then looking back down at his notebook, scribbling fiercely. So I stared back, waiting for him to chance another look.

This time he saw me looking boldly back at him, one brow raised in question and frowning disapprovingly. He froze, blushing furiously. I crossed my arms, leaned back in my chair, and tilted my head never breaking eye contact. The man broke first, and turned slightly towards the door as though debating the risks of fleeing. He chanced one more look at me, hesitated perhaps a second, and then got a little shakily to his feet, clutching his note pad. Every step he took towards me made me think of a man getting ready for battle, but one he felt was something he had to face.

“I’m sorry, it was not my intention to make you be uncomfortable.” He was soft-spoken, with just a touch of a European accent. Perhaps French. “Normally I ask.”

“Normally you ask women if you can make them feel uncomfortable?” I dryly said.

“Yes! I mean no, not at all!” he shifted his weight back and forth, clearly at a loss what to say next. His eyes made me think of a puppy expecting a scolding, and I took pity on him.

“You know,” I laughed, “you aren’t very good at this.” I gestured at the seat across from me. “So tell me, how bad is the poetry that you are writing about me?”

“I’m not a poet.” I made an enquiring noise. “Like I said, often I ask. I’m an artist, and I was sketching you.” He fidgeted a little then proffered his notebook. Or, rather, his sketchbook. Then he said what changed my life, “I’m trained to notice beauty, and I saw it in you – your soul is like light through stained glass.” For the first time I really looked at him, and for the first time he met my eyes without fear. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and perhaps elsewhere as well. To cover my confusion I took the offered sketch book and looked at the page.

The sketched woman sitting at the table was both me and more than me. Physically he was spot on. The woman was lightly muscled yet curvy as the road to hell, dark hair done mostly up with a few mischievous strands curling over her cheeks, and dressed in a way that showed off those curves while presenting the impression that the owner was completely unaware of their existence. But the differences between how I saw myself and the paper woman, ah, they were impressive. This woman seemed so intensely alive, as though ready to instantly leap off the paper. She was looking at her phone and every line in her body spoke of her annoyance. I paused, my finger hovering over her face. I looked up at the artist. He smiled and reached over to turn the page back.

The same woman graced the page, drinking coffee in utterly sensual satisfaction. Her necklace was idly twisted around a finger drawing attention to generous cleavage. Another page, and here the woman had her head thrown back in laughter. I had never seen so much life in one place. I had never seen myself like this. “How…”

The artist solemnly displayed a few pencils, and took back the sketch book flipping to a fresh page. Over the next few minutes my face again took shape, this time expressing wonder. He signed his name with flourish. “Cecil?”

“I shall never forgive my mother for that.” His smile was boyish, apparently pleased with my reaction. “You are beautiful, but you never see it. Few people do see hatay escort their true selves in the mirror,” he shook his head sadly. “Perhaps if they did there would be more people in this world as lovely as you are.” I truly did not know what to say to that, and then he blew my mind a little bit more.

“I would love you to pose for me. Photography. or better, I would love to paint you, paint all of you.”

“You paint?” I somehow managed to squeak. He nodded gravely. Except for his eyes, which betrayed his amusement.

“But of course.”

“Oh. Um. I never, well – I’ve never taken my clothing off for a picture, let alone a painting.” I was looking everywhere but at his face, “and you don’t even know my name.”

“I didn’t mean without clothing if you won’t be comfortable. Right now I am painting a series of ancient goddesses and heroines. I can see you as either Demeter or as Aphrodite. Here, let me show you,” and he pulled out his phone and went to his website. Paintings danced before my eyes. A war-like woman, dressed in Greek armor. A fierce looking red-head in a tartan, spear in hand. A sad woman in a chariot against an eternal sunrise. So many more. “What is your name?”

“Medea.” He looked surprised, and tilted his head as though looking for something.

“No. You have her intelligence, but neither her hunger nor knowledge of the arcane. Or are you a sorceress?” Cecil withdrew as though horrified by the thought. I, meanwhile, had reached the site’s section on ‘payment of models.’

“No, I am not a sorceress,” I hesitated, considering options, but $50 per hour – more if nude – seemed too good to be true. “Yes, I will model for you.”

All the tension drained out of Cecil’s frame, and was replaced with a brilliant smile that had a slightly hungry edge. “Excellent! Today?”

“Why not? I have nothing planned anymore.” He rummaged through his shoulder bag, and pulled out a contract with a smile.

After reading and signing it I sent my friend a text “ok, met cute artistic-type anyway. Going to his place” and sent a link to his website.

____________________________________________________________________________

His studio was not what I expected. It was a huge loft in a renovated warehouse near the edge of the city, and was flooded with natural light from skylights muted by sheer curtains. It was open concept, with the cooking area partially closed off and two private bathrooms. There were two king sized beds, and two distinctly different areas of mess. One was cluttered with paints, sketchpads, and assorted odds and ends that I didn’t recognize. The other was an organized chaos of cameras, lenses, and electronic equipment including a couple of huge computer screens. Beyond that was at least 25 metres of different set-ups in sort of bays. In front of some of the bays there was an easel. In front of others there was a tripod. Some had both.

“How on earth can you afford this?” I asked as he guided me through the place.

He shrugged, “My partner and I run a photography business, mostly for weddings. It’s been very successful. There are many fools who will pay ridiculous fees to,” suddenly his accent thickened to an absolutely outrageous extent, “a couple of delightful young French artistes. The rest are simply willing to pay merely outrageous fees to excellent photographers,” He rolled his eyes, and led me to an area that was filled with costumes. “Painting for me and sculpting for him are more for fun and to escape bridezillas than anything else.”

“Partner?” He smiled and pulled out a photograph from his wallet. It was faded, and the edges were ragged. It was dated nearly five years before. There were two young men on a beach in the photograph. While Cecil was attractive and had more muscle than I had initially suspected his partner was something else. He looked like he could have posed on the cover of romance novels. Chiseled chest? Check. Thick dark hair? Check. Sky-blue eyes? Check. Defined jawline (with optional attractive stubble)? Check.

“That was the night we met. The sex we had that evening…there is a reason we do not leave each other. It was intense. We complete each other, Percy and I.”

“Percy does not sound like a French name. You said your customers…”

“He is English, but his ‘french’ accent is more believable than mine when we are dealing with fools,” He smiled absently, apparently lost in thought. Then he shook himself and scanned me intensely and completely. I felt like he really was seeing my soul. “I think that Aphrodite is more appropriate. You have a sensual and sexual core that is just waiting to be ığdır escort set free.” I blushed, and he smirked a bit. “You keep her well tied up, don’t you?” I started to sputter, and he laughed. “I do not judge. We shall see if we can set her free today.” Then he dramatically removed a dress from the rack.

Well, I use “dress” for lack of a better term. It was clearly Greek inspired. However, I doubted even Aphrodite would have been caught dead in it outside her dressing room. It was rose coloured mist, really. Here and there gold threads ran through it vertically. It was also perilously short. I realized my jaw had dropped open. Cecil tilted his head to one side and said, absolutely deadpan, “my dear, right now I only want your body for my art.” It worked, and I relaxed with a laugh.

“I’ve just never done anything like this. I’m a bit nervous.” I took the dress, and hung it on the end of the rack with tentative movements.

He nodded, then said, “perhaps it will make posing easier if you strip in front of me now. Then you can always remember that I have indeed seen all of you and you are more ‘dressed’ before my lense.” I hesitated, and he got down on one knee and said melodramatically, “Please, Medea. For my art, I need a muse.” He grabbed my hand and kissed it.

“Oh, alright. If you’ll get up.” He did so. I boldly met his eyes and button by button undid my blouse, slowly letting it slide down my arms and puddle on the floor behind me. Next I slowly, so very slowly, pulled down my skirt leaving me dressed in tights, panties, bra, and my low heels. I paused standing proudly erect as Cecil circled me like a contemplative shark.

“Well, if I ever need a 50s pin-up model I know who I should call.” There was fire in his eyes as he said that, and it was all I needed to continue. I stretched on tip-toe and looked up to the ceiling as I lifted my hands up behind my head to remove my hair pins. As I stepped out of the shoes I shook out my long, curly hair. I then slowly leaned down as I rolled my tights off along with my panties (not as I had intended, but they were both so wet I decided to just go with it). My hair had fallen forward during this and now covered my bra and breasts as well as forming a curtain over one eye. I met Cecil’s eyes, daring him to look. He raised his eyebrows as his lips quirked slightly. I reached back and undid the hooks flexing my chest as I did so. The straps slid down my shoulders. Maintaining eye contact as long as possible I turned back towards the dress rack. I caught a strap in one hand and then flung the bra over my shoulder in Cecil’s general direction.

Then, in one smooth motion I pulled the rose coloured mist over my head and into place. Absently I inspected my pert nipples, then drew a hand over them and shuddered at the sensation of the silky fabric on my breasts. “Excellent. I knew that you had more than a touch of Aphrodite in you. Sandals?” I nodded as I turned around. And burst out laughing when I saw him. Apparently I had aimed too well when I threw the bra towards him. It was laying over his head, one cup over the head and the other covering an eye and his nose. He smiled, and approached with a golden cord in hand. “Reach for the sky, Aphrodite,” I did, and he tied the cord cris-cross around my chest and above and below my breasts. His hands occasionally brushed against me as he secured the cord and removed my hair from beneath them. I tried to ignore my sudden intake of breath and knocked the bra off his head to try to distract him. “Ah thank you, O goddess of love and beauty.” I chuckled as he took my hand and led me towards one of the sets.

The bedroom set contained a real bed. Cecil directed me to sit on it as he put on the Grecian sandals. He took his time about it, caressing my calves as he laced them up. I was breathing a bit heavily by the time he was done, and I think I’d left a wet spot on the edge of the bed.

“For today I would prefer photographs. I want to see the best way to display your features, Aphrodite.” For the next hour or so we did exactly that, stopping only briefly for sips of some iced tea concoction. I got more and more excited, thinking of more and more risque poses to display myself in. I could feel my wetness starting to run down my thighs, and the entire time my nipples just got harder and harder.

Slowly I stopped thinking about anything but getting myself off. After a particularly daring pose I found myself laying back on the bed, legs parted. I could smell my arousal. I reached down and lightly stroked my clit. Seemingly without my input my back arched in pleasure and I heard myself moan. So I did it again. ısparta escort Again. I was breathing faster and faster, when through the haze of arousal I saw Cecil’s face. “Here, you might want this.” I blinked, and realized he had handed me a dildo. I was beyond words, and moaned my happiness.

I aimed the dildo for entry, and slowly allowed it into me. I could feel myself filling delightfully. My thighs and pussy twitched happily, and I kept on pushing as far as I could go. Everything around me was hazy and it felt like I was on fire. It was exquisite, incredible, awesome, and unlike anything I had ever felt before. Better than any orgasm I’d ever experienced, but what little part of my brain hadn’t been overridden by lust realized I hadn’t come yet. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to survive coming if this was just the pre-show. However, lust overrode logic and one hand thrust the dildo in and out while the other feverishly stroked my clit. Ohmygod. I felt my body try to lift itself off the mattress in sheer convulsive delight. Through the fire I felt a hand cover the one on the dildo and I dimly heard a buzzing and Cecil’s voice. “I can do that. Pay attention to these,” and he lightly nibbled each nipple in turn. I gasped with pleasure, and hurried to do as he asked.

“Oh, god yes. Please more, please?” The dildo started to buzz inside me, and then I felt something buzzing directly against my clit. The world went white with fire and I suddenly felt as though I was floating blissfully. Distantly I was aware that my body was writhing and bucking with need and that I was yelling “more, please fuck me more I need it ohgod ohgodohgodohgod.”

White, then fading gradually into normal. I returned to myself while still in the throes of aftershocks. The tiny little baby orgasms were as good if not better than anything I had ever experienced before. I somewhat blurrily looked over to one side and noted Cecil was there, naked. I had my head on one of his arms. He met my eyes, and I moaned as another aftershock hit me.

“I told you that Aphrodite was in you, just waiting to be set free.” He ran a hand over my breasts, tweaking each nipple which were new epicenters, and my back arched eagerly tilting my breasts towards his hand. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?” I nodded, still too out of breath to speak properly. Cecil idly reached down towards my pussy, pausing to pay tribute briefly to my clit (oh GOD), and then quickly removed the dildo. The sudden emptiness was almost painful, and I rolled off his arm onto my side and curled up into a ball. A happy, wet, exhausted ball.

I felt the mattress move as Cecil came around to where he could see my face. He was quite happily licking the remains of my arousal off the dildo. I watched him somewhat incredulously. “But I thought that…I mean aren’t you and Percy…you said that that night was first sexy awesomeness”

Cecil smiled, finishing off the outside of the dildo with obvious relish. “Yes. We shared a girl that night. It was, ah ‘first sexy awesomeness.’ We aren’t a traditional couple.”

“Oh. So are you a couple?”

“I think your brain is still turned off. That happens sometimes with our women.”

“Our? I didn’t see anyone else, I don’t think,” I managed to get out. Cecil chuckled.

“Your brain. Off.” Cecil gently tapped the centre of my forehead. “He is here, in a way. He will be physically here in the loft later tonight if you think you can handle both of us.”

“Oh god. I’m not sure. I’m hungry. But so empty, I want you…” Cecil got up and lifted a tray with grapes and other finger foods off a nearby table. I reached out, but he swatted my hand away playfully.

“Allow me.” He concentrated on feeding me, one small piece at a time, sometimes taking a bite or two for himself. Slowly I uncoiled, and my breathing returned to normal. After we finished he got up to remove the tray, and then settled in behind me as the big spoon, slowly stroking up and down my side. “You taste and smell delicious. I can also think of another delightful part you may wish to play later today. I can tell you more if you let me eat right from your source.” I shuddered, and met his eyes, smiling. “Is that a yes?” I nodded.

Faster than I would have believed possible he was down by my feet, and flipped me onto my back again. I squealed, resisting slightly out of surprise. “Is that a yes?”

“Please, tell me a story while you eat me.” I dropped my thighs open, and he leaned forward, and breathed deep. A finger began to stroke my outer folds oh so delicately. “Wait, I didn’t ask. Or say. All my tests are negative. Um. Are yours?”

Cecil paused “you were more out of it than I thought. You already asked. Twice. But, as I said earlier you don’t have to worry about catching anything from me.” He resumed stroking and caressing, slowly working me up. “Now, story time. Let me tell you about the legend of Andromeda.”

….to be continued.

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As Sabah reached orgasm, she clenched her thighs together. It was her habit, she always did it. The motion pressed her fingers against her clitoris, making the sensation on the little organ all the more intense, and allowing her to feel, its throbbing; she believed the clenched thighs increased her vulva’s contractions too. She threw her head back, and let out something between a moan and a scream. Throwing her head hack had led to it resting on the picnic blanket she was lying on, and she left it there as she turned to a microphone on a small stand, only a few inches tall, that was perfectly positioned to capture the subvocal sounds she made when lying on the ground masturbating, and coming. She exhaled, letting out the last of the orgasm, and removing the expensive pink vibrator from inside her

Facing the microphone, she took in a breath, but laughed a giddy laugh instead of saying anything. Taking a moment to compose herself she relaxed. This was her show, and she could take all the dead air she needed. It was about a minute before she spoke again, though she made sure to breathe loudly so that listeners would know she was still there during the silence. When she was ready to speak, still lying her head on ground, she spoke into the microphone and said “…And that was a sneaky masty just within the perimeter fence of the five eyes security intelligence facility on Mt. Makaraka… Oooh, and it was a good one too” she said seductively.” so, if anyone says you can’t sneak into a secret spy base and masturbate, I have just proved them wrong” Sabah clicked off the record button on the cassette recorder, that had been recording her, as she mulled the phrase she’d used to sign off that recording… It was awkward, but she knew her fans knew english was her second language. They’d forgive her.

Now that the fog of orgasm had lifted, Sabah all of a sudden became very aware of her surroundings. Even in the hot summer night, the top of a mountain was cold with no clothes on – and she had no clothes on. The first garment she put on was a flannel shirt, she left it at that one garment, and left the front open; it hung loose, conforming to the curves of her belly and breasts. She began eskişehir escort packing up her gear. The microphone was connected to a cassette recorder that she bought at goodwill; it must have been previously been owned by a house painter, as it was flecked with white paint – Sabah considered it a thing of beauty for this. She used it not because it was good, but because it was beautiful – an accidental jackson pollock. She disconnected the microphone and stand, and placed them in a knapsack, out of which she took a box of tissues. She pulled out two tissues to wipe off the wetness from her pussy, that was starting to run down her thighs and cool. She also wiped down the vibrator. She discarded the tissues on the ground – her calling card – and pulled on a pair of hipster jeans that were weighed down by a walkman clipped to a belt loop. She rolled up the picnic blanket, that had lying on it the vibrator, and a tube of lube, placed them in the knapsack, zipped, it up, did up the buttons on her flannel shirt, before crawling under the gap in the fence, that she’d used to gain access to the facility in the first place.

As she began her trek down the mountain, she reached into the knapsack, and took out the cassette from the cassette recorder, and placed it in the walkman, she rewound it back to the start, and pressed play.

“The five eyes facility doesn’t officially exist”, she heard herself say, “Yet here I am… The Mt Makaraka facility provides material and intelligence support to combatants in foreign wars. Wars that out citizens do not support. Therefore, it is my intention to bring public attention to this”. Sabah cringed at the prosaic nature of her pronouncement, but there was one good thing she heard in the recording… The wind… Sabah uses cheap equipment for a reason. The uninsulated microphone picks up every gust of wind. No one can say she was not at least outdoors.

As expected, the next sound caught on tape was a zip coming down. At that point, she was holding the microphone in one hand, while, using both hands to, unzip her jeans – the mic caught the sound perfectly. The next sound was the shuffle of her tight jeans coming gaziantep escort down, and after that was the ruffle of her flannel shirt coming down. She remembered with fondness that at this, point in the recording, she was standing stark naked in the temperate night air.

Before beginning the recording, she had laid, down the picnic blanket, and taken off her hiking boots. She’d once been the subject of a photoshoot about her unique notoriety. In the photos, she was pictured wearing nothing but her hiking boots and a mask to hide her identity, but all she could think of during the shoot was the impracticality of it. To masturbate in hiking boots, she’d have to take them off to get her pants off, and then put them back on again. It all seemed very silly.

Her boots were weighing down the picnic blanket, should an errant gust of wind blow it away… But soon that would not be a problem. She lay down on the picnic blanket. On the recording Sabah heard the crinkle and rustle of the blanket as it took her weight. Lying on her back, she opened her legs, and began gently rubbing her clitoris, while every so often extending a finger to tease the opening. Listening to the recording she became giddy with excitement and more than a little wet, as she reheard her first carnal groan of the evening.

It all started three years ago. Sabah was an exhibitionist. She wanted more than anything for another human being to become overcome with lust at the sight of her. She had had three boyfriends in her life, all indifferent lovers. She attributed this to her weight, she was fat. Her face was also chubby and pockmarked with acne scarring, and her hair, despite being gloriously, long and thick, produced unnatural amounts of oil. In the absence of a flesh and blood partner to tell her what she needed to hear – that she was beautiful, she turned to the internet. There are websites where people can upload naked photos of themselves, and that she did. But the photos were ignored, when they weren’t being attacked.

So Sabah thought of the three indifferent lovers, and about how each one had failed to deliver an orgasm that she could competently give giresun escort herself. The ones that she gave herself were magnificent. She knew her body. She could come quickly or slowly, intensely or softly, depending on her mood. She was a master of self pleasure.

So what had urged her to post those photos? And was the need to do that really satiated by self love? No, she was an exhibitionist, she needed the love and attention of others. In addition to this,the world is awfully cruel to women who wear their sexuality on their sleeves, and Sabah needed feel the rush of gambling with society’s slut-shaming wrath.

There was a cemetery next door to where she lived. The next night, in the dead of night, she scaled the cemetery fence in her pajamas, found the grave of a man who had died just under a hundred years ago, disrobed, and gave herself multiple orgasms.

But she still had one hill to climb, the internet. She needed internet validation. She needed to sexually excite strangers all over the world. If she were selling the night in the cemetery, what selling point would she use? At each orgasm, she had been surprised by the sounds she made – the gasps, the screams, the moans, groans through gritted teeth; that’s what she needed people to hear.

Of course, she could make these recordings in her own bedroom, and post them anonymously. She still needed the risk. So the next night she returned to the cemetery, with an app on her cellphone for recording sounds. She built a website to host the recordings, and gained quite a following.

When she returned home, she retrieved took walkman, connected it to the audio-in port on her computer, and began converting the analog recording of her masturbation to a digital one, so that it could be uploaded to the net. Beyond the beauty of the device, there was another reason she liked the cassette recorder. That signature hiss on the recording spoke to, its imperfect mechanical nature. Digital recordings are transparent, digital devices deliver data frictionlessly – an objective truth – a window to the event; whereas the cassette is an intermediary, it reports its own distorted version of events. The cassette was her partner in masturbation, her voyeur, who reported to the world just what a hot fuck she was.

After making the digital audio file from the cassette, she wrote on the cassette, the date of the masturbation at the spy base, placed in in one of a number of custom frames she had had made, and mounted it on the wall.

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