The Sweet Taste of Innocence Ch. 07

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“Oh, Emma, I’m so happy for you,” Charles gushed over the phone in the morning. “I only wish I could have met the man first, but I guess you’re a grown woman who knows how to take care of herself. I just… Can’t believe it.” Emma lay back against the arm of her couch and listened to the man, her patience growing ragged as she listened to the water run in her bathroom. Alex was in the shower, and she wanted nothing more than to join him under the hot streams as they rolled over his skin and hers, enveloping them in a totally new world.

“Yeah, Charlie, that’s great. Look, I have to go.” She glanced longingly back at the bathroom door, her heart sinking as she heard the water turn off.

“Oh, I get it,” he said, in that tone that made her tick. “You’ve Mister Hot-Shot waiting for you and you’re anxious for another round.” Emma wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Not even close,” she lied. “I’ll tell you everything later. Love you, bye.” She hung up quickly and practically ran to the bathroom door. Slowly, she pushed it open and peaked around it. There he stood, looking directly at her, a towel barely covering his great asset. She blushed darkly and came fully into view. He raised an eyebrow at her and, in defiance, she walked over to the shower and turned the water back on. Without looking at him, she whipped off her t-shirt and pj shorts she’d thrown on that morning. Trying to pretend like she didn’t care, she stepped under the stream, the heat melting the tension and soreness from the night before.

She got so wrapped up in relaxing under the water, she didn’t hear the shower door slide open, then closed again. It wasn’t until his hands were cupping and massaging her breasts that she realized he was there. She gasped as his fingertips found her nipples and teased them under the hot water. Moaning, she fell forward a little, catching herself on the shower wall as he continued teasing her.

“A-Alex,” she murmured. He didn’t stop. Turning her around, he pressed her tight against the wall, kissing her as hot jets pounded against them. He pressed his lips to her neck and nibbled it as she moaned, clenching her thighs together. He ran a hand up one thigh, along the outside, pulling her knee up as he pushed harder against the wall, breathing heavily.

The head of his already swollen cock pressed against her entrance. “Please,” she breathed, nibbling his ear as he leaned into her neck. “Put it in me.”

He began pushing, ready to oblige, but as she was getting lost in the feeling, a buzzer sounded from the living room. Both groaned in protest, but Emma pushed Alex away and stepped out, grabbing a towel and running out to her intercom.

“Hello?” she said, a little annoyed. No answer, just a chuckle. “H-hello?” Still no answer. “Who is this?”

“Let me up,” a deep voice said, “And you’ll find out.”

Emma froze in fear, her heart racing. “Who are you?”

“Let me up.”

Alex came out, glancing at her curiously. She tried to smile and act as if nothing was wrong. “Fine. Come on up.” Something inside told her it would have to be fine, but something seemed off.

A few seconds later, there was a knock at the door. Emma glanced to Alex for courage before slowly cracking the door, trying to peek out. Just when it seemed the suspense would snap, the door burst open and in pranced Charles, carrying a steaming sack and a cup tray with three foam cups in it.

“Busy girls need good hefty breakfasts,” Cihangir travesti he crooned, setting everything down on the coffee table and unloading the bag. Out on a couple of paper plates, he set bagels, muffins, and coffee cake. Emma grit her teeth and Alex smiled in amusement. She begrudgingly snatched a cup and chugged it as she stalked back into the bedroom to get dressed.

She came out a few minutes later in jeans and a t-shirt. She was pulling her hair into a ponytail at the nape of her neck and paused as she caught the end of Alex and Charlie’s conversation. “So you think you can handle it then?” Alex was saying.

“Who do you think got her the way she was every other time you’ve seen her? She has awful taste in clothes.” They turned just as she walked in and Charlie pointed at her. “Enter exhibit A.” Walking around the couch, she accepted Alex’s invitation to curl up in his lap on one end of the couch. “What are you talking about?” she asked, yawning as she got comfortable.

“Why you, of course,” Charles said as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “What say you to shopping today? Alex just told me about the party and we want you to silence everyone in that room. He has specifically requested me to be your advisor in choosing your wardrobe.”

Emma almost bolted but reminded herself that she was a human and not a pampered French poodle. ‘Exactly,’ she thought. ‘Say something.’ However her jaw was frozen shut and she just sat there dumbfounded. It was only when Alex offered the use of one of the company limos and one of his credit cards that she finally found the tongue she’d thought she’d swallowed.

“I can’t do that, Alex,” she insisted. “You know I really don’t want to be at that gala much less to stand out. I’m doing this for you. I don’t want to oblige that monster Michael any more than I have to.”

Alex took both her hands in his own and nuzzled her hair aside to settle his face against her skin. “Please,” he murmured, “Do this for me. Don’t think about Michael. I want you to look stunning for my sake and no one else’s. Once we get to that party, I want to make it known that you’re mine. No more mind games, and no more letting Michael control us. Let’s make a statement and not let go of our stand.” He turned her just enough to make eye contact. “Can you do that? Can you be my own? My princess; my goddess?”

Emma blushed and turned away. Sighing softly she turned reluctantly towards Charles who smiled a little too eagerly. She tried, unsuccessfully, to burn a whole in the shape of a perfect circle right into the center of that oh-so-bright-and-cheery grin he wore so naturally it was almost scary. Instead, she wound up hanging her head in defeat and muttering her surrender. God only knew what could happen from here. ————————————————–

An hour later, Emma found herself lounged in the back of a rather nice black limo, giggling as Charles tried to direct the driver in the direction of some little-known formal tailor shop. “Custom-made gowns,” he had told Alex, selling the clueless gentleman almost instantly. Alex had relinquished his card and the number for the driver of the limo before saying his goodbyes, kissing Emma affectionately on the cheek.

Now, here she sat, wishing she just had a coffee and her laptop. The scene before her deserved proper documentation. Finally getting it straight, Charles settled into Fındıkzade travesti his seat and folded his hands neatly into his lap.

“Now, Emma, we need to come to an agreement as to what you are going to be looking for so we don’t waste any time when we get there. We have only a week to pull this together and I don’t want to be in a flustered muddle on the special night because decisions weren’t made promptly.”

Emma only half listened until she heard “Neon pink”. Her head snapped up and she hit Charles with a glare so sharp he actually jumped. “You dare try and put me in that hideous color and you will no longer have a reason to go looking for your boyfriend tonight.” Her stance was stiff and defensive.

Charles held up his hands in surrender. “This is exactly why I wanted us to figure out where we’re going with this. I don’t want you to be unhappy, but if you aren’t going to cooperate, you know I have no problem taking over.”

Emma rolled her eyes. She knew all too well his tendency to take over, and while she appreciated it in most cases, here she would not tolerate it. Their sense of fashion varied too differently for that. She sat back and sighed heavily.

“I want to blend in, Charlie,” she said. “I don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb, and neon anything would certainly cause that. I want to stick with my usual black ensemble.” Charles huffed, but sat straighter when she looked at him again, raising an eyebrow. “You can put me in almost any style, but it has to be in black.”

Finally tired from arguing with her about the issue, Charles gave in and was silent for the rest of the ride. It didn’t take long from there, though, to arrive at their destination. Charles seemed suddenly more excited. He bustled Emma from the limo to the entrance of the tiny shop. They were greeted by the young man Charles had been with at the party the night Emma had met Alex.

“Marcus,” Charles greeted him brightly, hugging the man warmly. “You remember my best friend, Emma,” he said, pulling her forward, albeit reluctantly.

“Of course,” Marcus answered brightly. His face was bright and smiling, but Emma saw the fakeness of it as it didn’t reach into his eyes. “How do you do, Miss Perry? Charles mentioned he planned to bring you in eventually.”

“Oh did he?” she sneered, turning a glare once again onto Charles, who shrugged and smiled, feigning innocence. “Well, before he can say anything, I am putting my word in. I want something black, something simple, and something that will help me blend into a darkened background. Subtle, yet superb…?”

Marcus looked over to Charles and the two exchanged a look, smirks just visible. ‘Oh no,’ Emma thought as each took one of her arms and led her into the depths of whimsical fabrics and glittering accessories.

Before she knew what was happening, they had her stripped down to her tank top, bra, and panties. All manner of dresses were flung over the door of the dressing room with the promise that if it looked just right, Emma would get her regular clothes back. She came out every once in a while when she liked something particularly well, only to have it shunned and then disregarded.

After two hours of relentless dress-up, Emma was ready to give up and go home when an emerald green scrap was flung over the door. She picked up the flimsy piece of nothing from where it had landed on the floor.

“What the hell is this?” she Fulya travesti demanded.

“Just put it on,” Charles said through the door,

“And come out when you have it on.”

“I am not wearing this, Charlie,” Emma said, almost snarling her disgust.

“Just put it on,” he repeated, not being one to back down when he set his mind to something.

Grumbling the whole time, Emma shimmied into the slip. The satin material whispered as it climbed up her legs. Once it was on, it only came to about mid-thigh, but gossamer fabric hung in misty tendrils as an overskirt to her knees. The bodice was form fitting from her hips, up over her breasts, with one strap that slung over her right shoulder. She reached back to zip up and was mildly annoyed that she couldn’t reach the damn thing. Poking her head out and around the door, she spied Charles and Marcus sitting on a bench, chatting as they waited for her.

“Psst,” she hissed. “Little help?”

Charles jumped up and ran over. “Come out, let’s see it,” he exclaimed.

“I can’t reach the zipper,” Emma admitted.

“Well , get out here and I’ll do it for you.”

She slowly, shyly, stepped out of the dressing room and let Charles do up the zipper. Grabbing her shoulders, he turned her slowly for dramatic effect, so she faced them. Her blush was hot in her cheeks as she felt their eyes on her. A small gasp from Charles told her this dress was going to be way too conspicuous.

“Oh, Emma, you have to wear this. Please, trust me. You look fantastic!”

“No,” she said simply.

“Why not? If you don’t buy it, I will.”

“Number one, I am the one holding the card, and number two, this isn’t even close to what I was looking for.”

“No,” Charles mused, sarcastically. “What you were looking for is a nun’s habit.”

“I have the most amazing shoes to go with that,” Marcus offered, breaking between them. “And why don’t you come help me find some earrings and such, Charles?”

Shoving her back into the dressing room like a doll into her box, the two ran off. It wasn’t long before they were passing little trinkets through the door for her to try. After another twenty minutes, she stepped out. Her long, lean legs were tied into Grecian sandals in silver. Her wrists jangled to mid-forearm with simple silver bands. Around her neck was a silver chain with an emerald and sapphire dragon fly on it. Two matching dragonflies hung from her ears as well. She glared at both of them, but honestly, even she couldn’t deny she looked great.

Even with her hair a mess from changing in and out of gowns, she was the spitting image of a goddess. She heard a loud throat clearing behind her and turned suddenly, almost tripping over the heels of her shoes as she was caught, rather ungracefully, around the waist, by none other than Michael.

Smiling ruefully, he gripped her tightly, and glanced over her scantily clad body. Their eyes locked and the man Emma saw within the depths of those eyes sent a cold shiver down her spine as she wrenched free, muttering her gratitude for his rescue.

“You look stunning, Miss Perry,” Michael commented, circling her. Emma felt quite uncomfortable, which only caused her to straighten and hold herself more professionally, hoping her cold stance would deter his advances as he drew close again. “You simply must wear this to the gala.”

Before she could object, he was talking to Marcus and making the arrangements for payment. Emma was dumbstruck, but by the time she’d recovered her nerves, their driver was escorting them and their packages back to the limo.

‘This is out of control,’ Emma thought as they rode home. Unfortunately, she didn’t know how to stop it, or even if she wanted to.

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The Spark Ch. 02

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This is the second chapter of the story about an erotic adventure that Andrew and Janine has begun. They are still at the lake where it all began.

Please feel free to comment, what works for you, what does not.

***

Janine

The warmth was wonderful and soon I could hear his slowing heartbeat and breathing. He was dozing off. I, however, was unable to rest. Full of energy. I needed something. But what? I didn’t have the same sense of needing, wanting or craving as before, so it had to be something differently.

In my mind I could hear a tiny voice “Maybe a good fuck. Uhm, you could suck his cock until he was ready and then you could ride him…”

WHAT? Where did that come from? Me?

Rejecting the strange impulse I sat up, gently without disturbing him. I studied his face and he looked so peaceful and satisfied. I could see he needed the rest. It had been a long hike and the amazing sex we had just had must have taken the remaining of his energy. Not really knowing how to spend the energi I looked around. The waterfall looked tempting. Maybe that was what I should try.

I jumped into the lake, swam the short distance to the waterfall and stood. It was just high enough for me to stand beneath and it almost felt like a shower. The water was cool to the skin. But I was warm and didn’t mind. I was horny. The cool water filled every crevice of my hot body and my body was tingling.

The cold water made my nipples hard. I rubbed and squeezed them just as I liked it. Every touch and squeeze sent shivers down my body, directly down to my clit. It was hard and sensitive. I moved one of my hands to my crotch and began to rub my clit. I was losing myself to the wonderful feeling of masturbating in public. Fuck, this is so good. And I was close to climaxing.

Some sound, maybe a snore from Andrew as he turned over, made me look up and I saw him. Lying there he looked so delicious. My hands got more insistent. I was almost there, so close, and yet… I could not cum. What, why, I am so horny and I cannot cum. A bit frustrated I stopped rubbing myself. Damn, I didn’t care if he needed some rest… I needed him.

I swam back to Andrew.

Andrew

I wanted to stay awake but I was spent so I dozed off. Remotely I noticed that Janine slipped away. Or maybe it was part of the naughty dream I had.

My favorite pornstar was sucking my cock making it hard and ready to fuck her tight pussy. Satisfied with her work she straddled me and slowly took the whole length in one long penetration.

Slowly riding me she played with her big boobs. Yes, baby touch those big boobs. I love how to squeeze your nipples so hard. I love to see how much you enjoy it. Her pussy was soaking wet and tight. Lifting her to only keep my head inside and slowly taking it to the bottom of her cunt. With closed eyes she was approaching her orgasm. She is not faking it. She was gasping for breath, shivering with lust and squeezing my cock wanting to take it even deeper.

The tightness around my cock felt so real. I could literally hear the moaning. And I could feel legs around my hips. Is this a dream?. I forced my eyes open and looked up at Janine riding me slowly with closed eyes and squeezing her hard nipples. She tried to stifle her moaning but she was not entirely successful. This is so much better. I would much rather have sex Ataköy travesti with Janine than some unobtainable pornstar. Make love to the woman I love.

“Uhm, this is wonderful, sweetheart”. My voice startled her. And for a short while she paused. “What has gotten into you?”

“I don’t know… the warm sun… the soothing noises… the cool water… you… this place.” She smiled at me “It all made me horny again and since you were lying there with a half erect cock I just had to use it to pleasure myself!”

She was much tighter than I remembered, but then again we have never fucked twice in the same day. “Oh you tease. You are so wonderful and you can do whatever you want.” I smiled up at her “What do you want?”

“Hmm, let me see. I like your big cock in my tight wet pussy”. She gave it a squeeze, “but I also like when you pump it in and slowly out…” she started to ride me to the rhythm of her words “in… out… in… all the way in…”.

I didn’t believe it, but I was ready to fill some more cum into her tight hole. She picked up the pace and soon after I exploded into her. I groaned as I filled her pussy with a lot of cum. Not as much as when we made love in the lake, but I was surprised at how fast I was able to go again. The cum hitting her cervix sent her over the edge and she came hard. Panting she collapsed on me.

Janine
Almost out of breath I said “Wow loverboy, that was amazing.”

Andrew agreed with a smile. “Indeed, I have never felt like this before. But I liked it… very much!”

He cupped my head and kissed me gently and with a voice full of love and passion he added “You are so hot and I love you so much!”

I almost blushed, he rarely spoke to me like that, I like it. I was sure that he would talk to me like that much more in the time to come.

My stomach felt so wonderfully and my gentle caress was absolutely wonderful. “I love you too, and I can’t believe how much cum you have given me today, I feel so full of it”.

He pulled me to my feet and kissed me again. “It is getting dark, we should be heading home”.

“You are right honey, just give me a second.” I savoured the whole situation. I did it, and wow, it was so good. I loved the lingering feeling in my pussy, having been fucked twice and of course the loads of cum he had given me. I hope it won’t leak out of me. It will be so annoying to walk home in cum soaked panties..

He nodded and started to pack our gear. He smiled broadly when he got my swimsuit from under the blanket. “Oh there it is…”

I smiled knowingly back at him, and then he realized that I had known all along. He pulled me tight and gave me a kiss on my forehead. “Oh sweetheart, thank you, thank you, thank you…”

I was ready to go home and more than ready to start work again tomorrow. Susan is not going to believe me when I tell her about today. I hope she won’t be envious of me. She probably wouldn’t be, her last relationship had ended quite badly.

I could see that Andrew had packed all the other stuff and began to dress. When done we started the hike back to our house. I was really surprised that none of the cum had seeped out of me.

Andrew

When we got home we were both tired, in a good way, having spent the whole day outside, hiking to the lake and back. And best of all having had the most incredible Bahçelievler travesti sex. Ever. I hope this will not be the last time we have sex like this. I was already picturing us having sex in the lake again. And in some alley with people passing close by.

We made a couple of sandwiches and ate them in silence. Even though it wasn’t interesting at all, it tasted remarkably good. Maybe because we were so hungry. And we didn’t have the energy to create a proper meal. When the sandwiches were gone we looked at each other and yarned at the same time. It made us laugh.

Exhausted, we got ready to go to bed. We kissed good night and I spooned her just the way we always did. Soon after we both fell asleep.

Another naughty dream that day came to me. It was actually a memory from some weeks ago when Janine had dressed up for fun.

—

I had been at work and it had been a long day. I was famished. And wanted to share a nice dinner with Janine. I didn’t know that she was going to surprise me. She wasn’t at home and had left a note on the kitchen table.

“Hi honey, there is food in the fridge ready for the microwave. I will be home late tonight, so don’t wait up. Love you. Jan”

I wondered where she had gone to. Normally we would tell each other if we had a night out for something out of the ordinary. And as far as I could remember she had not said anything. Still puzzled I heated the food and ate it while listening to a random news show.

Almost done with the food the doorbell rang. I answered it, and outside was Janine in her red dress. The one she had used for a few parties, knee length and showing her figure nicely. She was in her red pumps with three inch heels.

“Hello,” she had said, “may I speak with the man of the house?”

Playing along I had grinned “that should be me I guess. I mean the real ruler is not at home at the moment.”

She smiled and almost fell out of character “Oh, that it is perfect, it was really you I wanted to talk to. May I come in. I have something to show you, and if you like it you will be able to buy it.”

“Oh, please come in.” I had said and invited her in. She walked in front of me into our living room. I admired the red dress and how sexy she walked in those high heels. She looked a million and I was intrigued at what she had planned. “Yes, you had something to sell to me?”

“Oh yes, it requires some music though. She went to the CD player and started it. She had prepared some soft music. Slowly she danced out of the dress, the red half cup bra and matching panties. She looked sexy and was horny. She began to play with herself.

“Okay, okay, I’ll buy it” I grinned “just mention your price.”

“Good” she grinned. Then she kneeled in front of me and got my hard cock out of my pants “and the price is this big guy for the night.”

—

I half woke and my cock was rock hard. I have to do something about this. Janine was sound asleep and I didn’t want to disturb her so I got up and went to the living room. I sat down and began to jerk off replaying the naughty dream. Oh Jan, ride me like that, let me feel your tight pussy around my stiff cock. Oh baby you look so horny riding me like this. Oh baby do you need me to give it to you from behind. Good, I will give it to you hard . Can you feel my cock going deep into your wet pussy? Can you feel how I pound your Bahçeşehir travesti tight cunt….

After several minutes I was no closer to a climax that I had been when I had begun. I knew that I needed something extra and went to my computer. Quickly I found my homemade page with links to porn movies that I liked. Which one should I use? It had to be a good one. Scrolling down I found one of my favorites, clicked the link and moved to the start of my favorite scene in that movie.

A big boobed blonde in a tight cocktail dress was standing in front of a black guy. He was wearing a suit that fitted him perfectly. Some loud music in the background gave the illusion that they were at a party and had snuck into an empty bedroom. She was quivering with lust and his huge cock was clearly visible in his pants.

The sex was ordinary, she sucks his cock, he licks her pussy, he fucks her nice E-cup boobs, she plays with her clit, he fucks her from behind, she rides him hard…

I would usually climax when she was riding him hard and loosen her bun and let her hair fall over her big boobs while crying out a satisfying climax.

Nothing happened. After several fake orgasms the black guy turned her around and she made him cum in her mouth. And with a big smile she had swallowed all of it.

Frustrated I realized that I would not be able to get any relief. I went back to bed.

Janine

I woke up, hot and horny. I had dreamt something naughty but I couldn’t remember any of it. I must have been intense. What a shame. I was so wet and ready.

Andrew was not in the bed. Where is he? Listening to the sounds in the house I heard low moaning and pleasure screams from somewhere downstairs. Ah, he is watching one of his porn movies. Which one? Probably one of those with a black guy pounding a little blonde.

I tried to picture him jerking off while watching some big boobed blonde being fucked hard. The picture made me even more horny and I started to finger myself. I gave my hard clitoris a good rubbing. It didn’t really do anything for me. Then I fingered my pussy. It was a little better but not enough. Then both the clit and the fingers. It was nice but still not enough. Maybe it was the intense sex we had earlier today? No matter what, I had to relieve myself if I was to get any more sleep tonight.

I picked up the pace and hoped that he would take his time with the movie, because I would need some time to relieve myself. I was still some distance from the much needed release when Andrew got back to the bedroom.

“Did you cum?” I asked. Even before having asked the question I knew the answer. I could sense his frustration and I hated him being frustrated. He groaned and slumped onto the bed.

“Use me!”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Hmm, quite sure. I hate to see you frustrated like this, and I am a bit horny myself”. A bit, who am I kidding?

He spooned me and placed his cock at the entrance of my soaking wet pussy. I moved downwards and got his cock inside me. It was so hungry after his cock, so hungry after another load of hot cum. This feels right.

In one slow penetration he was inside me to the hilt. “Fuck you are so tight, I can feel every ribble of your cunt” he panted. I was in heaven, it felt so good to have his cock inside me. And finally we got somewhere, the orgasm we both had been working on was fast approaching. He fucked me harder and faster and I rubbed my clit harder and faster.

As if on cue we both climaxed at the same time. It was a very satisfying orgasm. And I loved the way his cum filled my pussy for the third time that day.

Satisfied we fell asleep.

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The Skinny Dippers Ch. 01

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During the Christmas break my parents decided that we’d all enjoy a week in the country. I could have given them an argument on that but it wouldn’t have done me much good, so I kept my mouth shut. Thus it was that post-Christmas I found myself visiting my beloved sister and her husband at their farm in the middle of nowhere.

Still, there was one bright spot to it. My brother-in-law had a sister, Diana, and she was also visiting. She was twenty, give or take a year. I’ve never been exactly sure but my impression was that she was just a little younger than me. She was also blonde, with a pleasing personality, and a very pleasing face and figure.

Typical male, I got quite a few kicks out of teasing her. She was always just a trifle slow catching on to sexual innuendo, only to start blushing a minute or so later when the innuendo sank in. This surprised me a little because the chances of her being a virgin I rated as somewhere between slim and none.

Still and all, the holiday wasn’t too bad. There always seemed to be something to do and there were several places within walking range if I wanted to go visit the neighbours.

One morning I was up earlier than usual. Stuffed if I know what woke me but, seeing it was already hot, I decided to shower and dress, rather than loaf in the bed. Mind you, if it had been cold I’d have stayed right there until pried out.

I wandered down to the bathroom and, just as I reached it, the door opened and Diana was standing there. She had obviously just had a shower and she was wearing a thin dressing gown that was clinging to her in all the right places. It wasn’t done up, I noticed (naturally, lecher that I am), and Diana was holding it closed with one hand clutching the sides together.

Now the polite thing to do would be to step aside and allow her to go on her way. That’s not what I did. I ran my eyes over her, while she slowly blushed. If that wasn’t bad enough, I reached over and gently pulled her hand away from where she was clutching the gown closed, opening the gown wide while I did so.

I had suspected that she was naked under that gown and was delighted to find my suspicions were accurate. She was a fine and tasty dish. Her breasts, white and tipped with pink, stood out proudly, young and healthy and shapely and a magnet for male eyes.

I let my eyes drift down, noting that she had a belly button piercing and that she was apparently in the habit of shaving certain areas. I was terribly tempted to check and see if she felt as smooth as she looked but wiser councils prevailed.

“Very, very, nice,” I said softly, as I drew her gown closed again. “Very soon I’m going to see you like that again, at a time when we have more privacy. Then I’m going to see if you taste as good as you look.”

She just gave me a nasty look and fled, blushing fiercely, and I sauntered into the bathroom. I suppose I could have tried to make a pass right then, she’d been at a hell of a disadvantage, after all, but it seemed to me that it would be rushing things. Besides, with the whole household in the process of waking up, we might have been interrupted at an inopportune moment.

Diana shot through shortly after breakfast and I didn’t think anything of it. I just assumed that she’d gone to visit one of the neighbours. Did I mention that her parents were also staying for the week? They were. Early in the afternoon Diana’s mother came up to me.

“Mike, Diana’s gone over to the Fortescue’s place and she seems to have forgotten that we’re visiting the salon this afternoon. I tried ringing but no-one is answering. Could you be a good chap and go over and remind her?”

Being a good chap and having nothing else to do I said that it would be my pleasure. It would be to. The Fortescues had a very lovely young daughter about Diana’s age, undoubtedly the reason she was over there. I’d have two lovely young things to flirt with and make leading remarks to.

I reached the Fortescue place and it looked deserted. Everyone out working the farm, I assumed. Still, I knocked, and there was no answer. In the quiet I could hear the sound of voices and made an educated guess that the girls were in the back yard. Probably in the pool, on a day like this.

I wandered around to the back yard and sure enough, there were Diana and Maureen. Along with four other young ladies that I’d seen about, all around the same age bracket. Understandable. People of the same age and sex do tend to congregate together. There wasn’t anyone actually in the poll when I rolled up, although I suspect that the whole damn lot of them wished they were.

They’d been skinny dipping and I was suddenly standing in front of six young ladies, all of whom were stark staring naked. And I was staring all right. My eyes were almost popping out of my head. So much feminine flesh on display.

And what could I do about it? Absolutely nothing. Talk about too much of a good thing. One or two standing there naked and Erenköy travesti I’d have been tempted to make a move, but not with six of them staring at me.

When the girls first noticed me there were some squeals and rapid hand movement, but then they seemed to get a positive feedback flowing through the group. After all, there were six of them and only one of me. The muffled squeals turned into not so muffled giggling and the hurried hand bras and such vanished again. The rotten bitches were flaunting what they’d got and almost daring me to do something about it.

What was worse they were eyeing me off, and I was suddenly feeling like a stud put up for auction. A strange and disconcerting feeling. Hopefully I hid my new found embarrassment.

“Afternoon, ladies,” I said. “I have a message for Diana. Her mother wanted to remind her about the salon visit this afternoon. She also suggested that it might be a good idea to answer your phones.”

There was a muffled giggle at that last bit, and a sotto voce, “Told you so,” from someone in the group.

“Message received,” said Diana, staring brazenly back at me. “You can tell her I’ll be along shortly.”

This was the same young woman who had been blushing so hard this morning? Isn’t it amazing the confidence a bunch of friends can give you.

“No need to chase him off, Diana,” said one of the girls. “He can stay and talk with us while you get dressed.”

“There again,” murmured someone else, “maybe he’d like to have a swim.”

“I’ll pass,” I said with a smile. Mainly because I’d be waving my feelings around for all to see. Fine, one on one, but I’d rather not in a group.

“Ah, too bad,” came from somewhere in the group. “You could have shown us your potential.”

There was a burst of explosive giggling at that and I had to just stand there and take it. I looked around at the girls, trying to put names to faces. Also trying to make sure I attached faces to other interesting body parts. One girl, Isabel, if I remember correctly, had a magnificent rack.

“I’ll tell you what, ladies,” I said affably. “I’m making a careful note of your faces and before the holidays are over I’ll make a concerted effort to meet each of you alone and show you my potential.”

“Our faces?” asked Maureen. “Was that what you were looking at?”

There was some more giggling, and I took my leave, strolling casually away, while inside I was running like a rabbit.

Diana rolled up and she and her mother went off to the salon to do whatever women do at the salon. Quite frankly I couldn’t see any difference between when they went and when they returned, but the way Diana was waving her hands around I’d guess she’d had her nails done. Why on earth do you need to go to a salon and spend money to do your nails? Just trim them and maybe file them a bit. Not that I was stupid enough to suggest such a course of action.

After dinner I suggested to Diana that we might take a stroll outside as there were a few questions I’d like to ask her about the young ladies she’d been with earlier. She giggled but agreed to go for a short stroll on the firm understanding that I didn’t get up to anything.

It was a very pleasant evening and we just strolled along, chatting about nothing much at first. Eventually I broached the subject of the other young ladies.

“I know Maureen,” I said, “and I believe the young lady with the generous endowment,” patting my chest, at this point, “is Isabel. I’m not sure who the others were. Perhaps you could enlighten me.”

Diana swiftly gave me the names of the other young ladies but then I had to match faces to the names. I managed to sort it out. By this stage we were passing close to the barn.

“That reminds me,” I said. “Did you know one of the cats has a litter in the barn? She’s got five kittens there.”

Not unsurprisingly Diana was keen to see the kittens and I moved into the barn with her following on behind. There were two loose boxes at the end of the barn, used when they wanted an animal to be kept in the barn for whatever reason. Both loose boxes had a fresh bed of straw and the right hand loose box also came equipped with a calico cat and five assorted kittens.

Naturally enough Diana oohed and aahed over the kittens, handling them gently while the mother watched suspiciously.

“Time to be moving,” I said eventually. “We still have some things to do.”

Diana reluctantly abandoned the kittens and rose to her feet. She turned towards the doors but I turned her slightly, indicating the other loose box.

“What’s in here?” she asked, moving into it.

“You,” I replied. “This morning I saw your very attractive figure and I had to struggle to keep my hands to myself. This afternoon I saw your lovely body once again and it was a lot easier not to touch, what with the audience, but that didn’t mean the wanting to touch wasn’t there. Third time lucky is the way I see it. Please take off Beşiktaş travesti your clothes as I am really wanting to touch you.”

“No dice,” she said, sounding indignant. “And you said you wouldn’t try anything.”

“You didn’t believe me, did you?” I asked, sounding surprised. “Very silly of you if you did. Do you need help taking your clothes off? I’d be delighted to be of assistance.”

“I’m not taking anything off,” she retorted. “And just what do you mean by touch, anyway?”

“I noticed that you have a nicely shaven mons,” I said, smiling as she blushed. “I want to run my hand over it to see if it’s as smooth as it looked. I want to taste your nipples and watch them pucker up and point. I want to run my hands over your body and feel the sheer femaleness of you.”

“Yes, and then I suppose you’ll want to make love to me,” she pointed out.

“It would be very nice,” I admitted, “but I wouldn’t push you too far tonight. I can wait until you’re a little more ready for some serious intentions.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that that is all you’ll do if I take of my clothes?”

“That depends,” I said.

“What does it depend on?”

“How gullible you are. We both know I brought you into the barn so I could strip you and screw you rotten. We’re both just pretending that we don’t.”

Her mouth dropped open in shock, not believing I’d just said that. While she was trying to come up with a reply I started undoing her belt.

“What are you doing?” she snapped, slapping at my hands.

“Helping you get undressed,” I pointed out. “If you don’t want to help me keep your hands to your sides. Better yet, use your hands to undo my trousers. You might as well investigate what I’m going to give you.”

Diana was making feeble little protests and slapping at my hands but she wasn’t trying to do up anything I actually undid. I undid her belt and the buttons of her slacks and then pulled her top loose and started lifting it up.

“Arms up,” I said as I pulled the top higher, to be met with a resounding no.

Funny that. She said no, loud and clear, but when I took her elbow and lifted it her arm rose without any struggle, letting me lift the top over her head and off. She clutched her hands to her breasts but I had no objection to that. It meant they were out of the way when I turned her around and unhooked her bra.

“Will you stop this?” she demanded as I turned her back to face me.

“Um, no, I don’t think so,” I murmured, gently tugging her hands away from her breasts, gratified to see that she held onto the bra so it came away as well.

I pushed her hands down to her sides and then lifted my hands to capture her breasts. Cupping them, one in each hand, I leaned down and sucked lightly on her nipples, one after the other. She gasped and protested, but not very loudly, and her attempts to push my head away from her breasts were not what you would call strenuous.

When I lifted my head her nipples were rosy red, damp, and peaked, and quite ready for more of the same. Reaching down I started pushing her slacks down, making sure her panties went with them.

“You can’t do this to me,” she said in this woeful little voice, but in that case she really should be trying harder to stop me.

With her slacks and panties around her ankles I ran my hands up her legs, stroking the long full length of them, pausing to rub her mons along the way.

“Still nice and smooth,” I murmured, finally standing up properly. “I want you to lie down on the straw now.”

“I won’t, and you can’t make me,” she snapped.

“Really? Have you ever seen this little trick?”

I cupped a hand under her chin while my other hand cupped the back of her head. Then I lifted slightly, so I was effectively controlling the movement of her head. I moved it to the side and down, laying her neatly on her back. Where the head goes, the body follows, and no real force is needed. I will admit that Diana looked very surprised to find herself lying on her back, but she didn’t try to get up again.

“How did you do that?” she demanded and I winked at her.

“Very efficiently,” I told her. “I’ll show you the trick sometime.”

I took hold of her slacks and panties, pulling them off her feet, finding her shoes caught in the legs of the slacks, leaving her naked apart from a pair of socks.

“Come on,” she said. “You’re not really going to try to have sex with me, are you?”

“There is no try,” I said, using my best Yoda voice.

She blinked but she caught the reference and her lips quirked in a smile she tried to hide.

“In that case, I suggest you make it ‘do not’,” she said sweetly.

I stood, looking down at her, calmly undoing my trousers. When I pushed them down it was blatantly obvious that I was opting for the ‘do’ part of the quote. I took off my top and settled down next to her. It seemed only fair that I be as naked as her.

My hands started wandering, Avcılar travesti touching her all over. Fingertips lightly feathering across her face, hands squeezing her breasts lightly and rubbing them around with my palm, her nipples rolling under my touch. Trailing my fingertips lightly over her tummy, watching her squirm at the delicate touch, until a hand settled firmly over her mons, sliding further down to cover her pudenda and squeeze lightly.

She was on her side facing me, pushing her hands against me. I think this was supposed to be an effort to push me away but, if it was, she would need a lot more effort. Perhaps she was pushing in the wrong place.

I caught hold of one of her hands moving it down to where it would be more effective. When I let go she pushed against me and her hand closed nicely over my erection, bringing a sudden blush to her face. Her hand stayed where it was, apart from a gentle up and down motion while she explored her prize.

I took my time, feeling her body and treasuring it, stroking it and letting it know it was desirable. One hand stroked her breasts, teased her nipples, the other was exploring elsewhere. I rubbed back and forth across her lips, stimulating them. Little circular motions on her mound, pressing firmly against her, were sending the message deeper into her – I want you – and her body was responding. I could feel her lips pursing slightly, her inner lips expanding, pushing out to kiss the palm of my hand, leaving a wet streak as my hand moved across them.

A little subtle pressure and Diana was lying on her back. My leg was stretched along hers, pressing lightly. A little pressure from my toe upon the side of her foot and her legs were steadily drifting further apart.

I swear my cock felt so hard that I thought it was in danger of breaking. I moved over her, between her thighs, gently extracting my erection from her grasp, letting it hover above her. I leaned forward slightly, cock in hand, brushing it back and forth along her lips, lips which seemed to be reaching out for me.

I suppose, strictly speaking, I should have asked for permission at this stage, but what the hell? I knew that I was going to take her and she knew I was going to take her. If she didn’t want this she could volunteer the information.

Not that it looked like she was going to volunteer any such thing. She was breathing hard and her eyes were riveted to where my cock was brushing against her, waiting for that first little push. I gave that little push and she gave a small gasp, her hips rising up to meet me, and that first push turned into a firm thrust, my full length plunging into her willing body.

It turned out that Diana had no intention of being a compliant little puppet, content to lie there and let me work my will upon her. With that first thrusts her legs came up and wrapped around me, holding me tight, using her legs to help pull me in deeper, faster.

It seemed to me that we hit our stride right from the word go, both of us clinging to the other and moving urgently against each other. I banged her hard and she was with me every inch of the way, pushing up to take me, and letting her appreciation be known.

I was feeling quite glad that I’d jumped her in the barn rather than the house. She was so vocal that if we’d been in the house the whole household would have known what was going on. I’d push in and she’d push up, crying, “Oh, yes. More. Harder. Oh, fuck me, I need more.”

I almost felt as though I wasn’t up to the task. Almost. What I did was settle down to give her what she desperately needed. I hammered into her, my own pleasure rising by the moment, while I strived manfully to build her excitement and arousal, trying to reduce her to a screaming heap, lost to all but me and the pleasure I was bringing her.

I must say, with all due modesty, that I think I succeeded. I was still building up to my best when she climaxed, oddly enough losing her voice when she came, just shuddering and shaking beneath me.

She regained her voice fast enough when I didn’t stop taking her. I wasn’t finished so as far as I was concerned, neither was she. First of all she was, “What? What?” as I kept going, then it was, “Aah, aah, aah,” then back to the, “Yes, yes, yes. Fuck me harder.”

I pushed on, my own climax not that far off. Fortunately for me, Diana was already so aroused that it didn’t take much more work on my part to bring her back to screaming point. Or lack of screams, I guess you could say, as she went silent again as her second climax hit her.

That wasn’t all that hit her. My own climax washed over me and I spilled my load into her, shuddering and jerking as I gave my all. Then we both sank down, exhausted and satisfied.

“This,” Diana finally managed to say, “was a one-off. Don’t get any ideas about repeating that little performance.”

“Pity,” I said in return. “You were quite sensational. I think I could stand a repeat performance. Twice daily, would be best.”

“In your dreams,” she murmured.

I just smiled and laid back. Actually, if I was going to go hunting the other skinny-dippers I probably wouldn’t have time (or energy) to take Diana again. Still, we would wait and see what happened.

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The Story of a Skirt

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Memories are interesting things. It is often the smallest thing that grabs my attention and brings me back. This time, it was pulling a skirt out of my closet. I recently had a baby, and am enjoying being able to wear clothes that I haven’t in almost a year. I was getting dressed for work, and grabbed my black a-line skirt off a hanger. It hit me almost immediately the last time I wore this skirt. The last day working at my last job. The job itself doesn’t hold that many great memories, but, that last day, that last afternoon sure as hell does. I’m not exactly sure why after working together for years, the last two weeks that I was employed there pushed forward flirtations that had been going on for years. Maybe he has an answer, I don’t. I had worked for him as a secretary of sorts for years. Taking care of him wasn’t my only responsibility, but, it was by far my favorite. I liked that he relied on me, and that he appreciated me.

Like I said, we’d flirted for years. We are both married, so I had long ago chalked the flirtations up to a stress relief at the office, and never really thought anything would ever come of them. Something about me putting in my 2 week notice changed that. Almost immediately, we found excuses to touch, just a minute here or there, because it would have been definitely frowned upon by our boss, and, like I said, we both had spouses at home that didn’t need to know.

I can’t tell you his side of the story, as I’ve never really asked. But I was attracted to him almost from the first time I met him. He’s 15 years my senior, and according to him, he’d started going grey in high school. Now a few years past 40, he has a presence that had my heart beating faster every time he looked at me with heat in his eyes. He’s nearly a foot taller than I am, I’m not sure why, but that always made me feel safe. I could go on and on about times that I’m sure he didn’t even realize it, but he’d made my pulse quicken, my breath catch, and made me wet, but that’s not this story.

That last day, it almost seemed anti-climactic – you’d have never Kadıköy travesti known it was my last day from the way everyone around the office was behaving. It is a small office, and I know some were glad to see me go, and others just glad for the entertainment that my leaving brought. Our boss left early that day, with barely a “Good-bye”. That was ok with me. I wouldn’t miss our boss or the rest of the office, just him. That day, the entire office staff was gone by 4, save for the two of us. I will admit to being shy, never the instigator, fearful of rejection I suppose, but after the last car pulled from the drive, I walked into his office, closed his blinds, and kissed him. I can’t begin to tell you how energized I was, just from a kiss. He suggested we move to my old office, as it was a little less in the main flow of traffic, just in case someone decided to come back in the office.

He accused me that day of wearing skirts so often for easy access. He was right. I loved that it was so easy for him to touch me. And he did, touch me. I will again admit to some naiveté, even after being married for 8 years, and I was more than happy to be led and controlled by someone who definitely knew what he was doing. Just being held by him brought my body alive in ways I’m not sure it ever had been. I was scared at that point of disappointing him. We’d touched, kissed, played a little here and there before, but, I knew without a doubt, I wanted him to fuck me before I left that day.

Almost immediately, he’d made excellent use of my freshly cleaned off desk, and had me bent over it, rubbing my clit with his dick and making me crazy. He teased me. He wouldn’t enter me. I remember thinking, GOD, would you just give it to me? He did, finally, and I can’t give you details, as I don’t make a habit of carrying around a measuring device to take measurements, but I can honestly say, I’ve never been filled so fully or so well, as I was with his dick inside me. The sensations were amazing, the cool desk against my cheek, his hands on me, keeping me Kurtköy travesti on the brink of an orgasm, and him pounding his dick into me. I know I’d cum at least a couple times, I laughed and told him I had a hair trigger, but that was a lie, I really don’t, at least, not usually. It usually takes a great deal of work and concentration on my part to cum at all, much less repeat performances.

Suddenly, he stopped, pulled out, and leaned back against the wall. I can’t honestly tell you why he did, but I saw it as an opportunity I had to take advantage of. I have a small mouth, and blow jobs have never been any fun at all for me. I gag so easily, but I couldn’t NOT try it. I had to. I was compelled to. I dropped to my knees and did the best I could. Tasting myself on him was an even bigger turn on. I couldn’t even begin to put his entire dick in my mouth, but I tried. I loved the feel, the smooth skin, the size, it was all more than I could take.

He pulled me gently back up to my feet, and sat me on the desk. The sense of control that he had over me, by pure size and strength is perhaps the biggest turn on of all. I liked being controlled, handled, enjoyed.

In my less than varied experience, I’d never been with a man who could last as long as he already had. I’d certainly never been with a man who was so interested in my pleasure. Who saw it as a challenge to make me cum time and time again. He succeeded, and often at that. I had expected him to be through, and ready to go home by that point. I couldn’t have been more wrong. He continued to kiss me senseless. The only think I could manage to do was to wrap my fingers in his hair and hold on.

He flipped me back over onto the desk, again, my cheek pressed against the cool surface, and I felt him entering me again from behind. His fingers wrapped around one arm, holding me where he wanted me, and the other hand was busy playing with my clit and bringing me again and again to an ecstasy I’d never even imagined. Finally, he tried to pull out, telling me that he was indeed ready Pendik travesti to cum himself. He was worried about me, and whether I wanted him to cum inside me. I begged him. PLEADED with him. That was exactly where I wanted him. Deep inside me, I wanted to feel every pulse, every shot through my sensitive pussy muscles. He was worried about leaving a mess that I’d have to drive home to my husband with, I was beyond worry or thought. I only wanted him inside of me as he came. He relented, and let me have my way. The forcefulness of the cum shooting inside of me, the pulsing of his cock as my muscles milked him, the fullness I felt – they all combined, and had me living the longest orgasm of my life to that point. I felt like I was falling from the stars.

He helped me clean up, ever the gentleman, and kissed me again before I had to leave. It was an afternoon I’ll never forget. One burned in my memories so deep, just the thought of that day has me wet again.

Back to pulling this skirt out of my closet – I had put it away and hadn’t worn it since that day last October. As I pull it out and put it on, I notice a substantial stain on the back, it seems that we’d left a mess I hadn’t realize we had. I quickly threw it in the laundry to be washed and chose another skirt, but just noticing that stain had my thoughts wandering all day. Had my pulse elevated, had me wet and ready. Too bad we don’t really see each other anymore. I guess it was fun while it lasted, and we did take the opportunities presented to us to meet and fuck ourselves silly, but that’s another story or two. He haunts my dreams, even though it has been eight months since the last time we were together. I guess my growing pregnant belly probably put a halt to our excursions, and after a while, I guess we just moved on. I really don’t know. Maybe he has an answer to that as well.

I suppose it is a common office fantasy to be spread across one’s desk and fucked senseless, I’m just amazed I got to live it.. I visit that office on occasion, and every time I see my old desk, my body is ready to pick right back up where we left off. My blood pumps, my breathing picks up, and my juices flow. I always wonder if anyone else notices, and if they do, what they think is wrong with me.

*

Thanks for reading, I hope it was enjoyable. I welcome feedback.

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The Shower

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You know, I thought there might be some problems flatting with all these people, but this wasn’t one that came to mind. After all, it’s something of a tradition to do it this way.

First year at Varsity, first time way from home, we stay in hostels. Meals are provided, sheets are washed, facilities are clean, available, restricted, and frankly boring. Any of us who manage to find our virginity promptly lose it, in an inappropriate manner, under the influence, and with someone who, if not actually horrid, is certainly not partner-for-life material. Think orangutan. A drunk one.

Drinking edges its way inexorably from desirability to compulsivity. Plans for study are put aside. Partnerships are created and broken with monotonous regularity. Some of us put homosexuality to the test, and find that while we are capable of sex with our very own gender, we would, on the whole, rather not. Then of course, the remaining ten percent take the exact opposite view.

Friendships come and go, there is a lot of laughing, even more crying, devastation, heartbreak, pregnancy, drug addiction, stalkers, streakers, theft, rape, and an occasional hero who comes along and makes it all worthwhile. Of course, not all those things happen to all of us. Personally, I could have done with a few more heroes, but I’m not complaining.

Somewhere along the path toward summer we realise that, despite all the fun and games, we’ve completely forgotten that we were here to learn something in an academic sense, and realise also that we can’t possibly go home and tell Dad about all the extra-curricular learning. He wouldn’t want to know about the coke, the drag racing, or the threesome. We’re not sure we want to know either, though they all seemed pretty damn good at the time.

As it slowly dawns that we, along with most of the rest of our class, might be in trouble, we knuckle down. We study with a will not before seen, a determination which astounds us all, a focus heretofore thought impossible, and with not nearly enough time for it to help.

The year ends badly, and we all head to various homes, tails between our legs, goodbye-no-strings-just-friends fucking done and dusted, to face parents who are not happy and less than supportive, but privately pleased that we were just the same kind of hellions as they had been a generation before. The fact is, they would like to know about the coke, sex, drinking and heartbreak. But you can guarantee we won’t be telling them, unless we can manage to disguise things enough to convince them that it wasn’t us.

Summer is spent in remorse, at least in the presence of parents. Many of us need to work hard to raise enough money to do it all again, while the rest waste the time on beaches and in bars. But when it’s time to leave home again, and the relieved parents wave goodbye, or drop us off, it’s not to the hostel we go. No, we are mature now. Older, and more experienced. We want to feel life with a visceral edge, a reality that only exists when we look after ourselves. We want to cook our own meals, or choose not to. We want to clean up when we feel like it. We want to choose our companions, often based on a five minute conversation late one night, the year before. We want to cram as many people as we can in a small, dingy, dark, grotty flat, and then see if we can drive each other crazy. We want to be grownups.

===============================================

I gave it two days after pinning the note to the fridge. Nothing had changed. The fact was, I knew who it was anyway. I just hadn’t been quite obnoxious enough to put his name on the note.

The six of us who made up the tenancy were a strange mixture. All intelligent, partly-educated, independent, self-thinking individualists. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that we provided friction to one another. The three guys were probably not bad as these things go. They were mostly tidy and clean, and they treated at least us three girls as people. No telling what they did outside the house.

Nev was Göztepe travesti probably the least extroverted of the bunch. He was a Computer Science student, but he didn’t fit the nerdish stereotype of most of his classmates. He was very involved in mountain biking, and was the most likely of the group of us to eat something healthy.

I couldn’t stand what he was doing in the bathroom though, and decided I needed to confront him. Don’t get me wrong. I had no problem with him masturbating. More power to him. Really. Hell, I’ve been comfortable with my hand between my legs myself, for years, on a regular basis. It wasn’t that, not at all. The problem was having a shower after him, and having to stand on the sticky leftovers. Yuck. Now I realise we girls have an advantage here, but that’s no reason to leave evidence.

I waited until the next morning, and sat quietly in the kitchen, until Nev appeared, towel around his waist, and made his way to the bathroom. I wasn’t really sure what I intended to do, but had got the idea into my mind that I needed to catch him, in the bathroom, in the shower, in the act. So I followed him down the hallway, and listened to him for a while, until I heard the water start in the shower.

Knowing that I was safe for a few minutes now, I tried the door. We weren’t too concerned about nudity in the flat, and the door was seldom locked. Hell, when the guys went for a pee, they didn’t even shut the door until we ganged up on them. Sure enough, the door, while closed, wasn’t locked, and I could open it easily enough.

The flat we rented was a conversion of a big old house, and some of the rooms were shaped a little strangely as a result. After I opened the door and walked into the bathroom, I still couldn’t actually see the shower. I closed the door carefully behind myself, and peered around the corner. Sure enough, Nev was under the water, and just as I got there, he finished rinsing his hair, and turned away from the shower head, and put his back to the water. He would have been able to see me if he happened to look in exactly the right direction, but with soapy eyes, and steam, he probably wouldn’t.

The shower cubicle had a clear glass door, and from where I stood, I could see fairly plainly through it. Nev must have been giving his upcoming masturbation some thought, because as he turned, his erection became obvious. He reached up and squeezed a little conditioner on his hand, and carelessly wiped it all over his cock, and that’s when my plan went all wrong.

I’d never seen a boy masturbate before, other than up close, his cock right next to me, with our lips together, and me helping. This was different. He stood there, back almost straight, relaxed and calm, closed his eyes, and started to stroke. He had a sizable penis, and from where I stood, I could see that it jutted out strongly from his hips, curving slightly upwards. I knew, from a late night conversation earlier, that he was circumcised, and the head of it was large, and red. Conditioner partially covered the skin, and his right hand slid effortlessly up and down, getting faster as I watched.

I noticed the rest of his body for the first time then, as well. The mountain biking had given him strong shoulder muscles, and his legs held him rock steady. His face was squinting with concentration, and the water was running down the back of his short, dark hair, and down over his muscled back.

The desire to confront him had completely departed, and been taken over by another more basic need, and as I watched him intently, both of my hands slipped down to my thighs, and lifted my skirt at the front. My panties provided very little in the way of a barrier, and I pushed them down off my hips to give myself better access.

Plunging a finger from each hand inside myself, I realised how wet I was, and stroked frantically, covering my labia with ample moisture, sliding my fingers up and down in time with his hand, slowly nearing my clitoris.

I leaned back against the Küçükyalı travesti wall now, careless of being caught, and attacked myself vigorously. Two slippery fingers pounded my clit delicately, but oh so fast, and I watched Nev, as he bent his back a little, in anticipation.

Suddenly I realised I couldn’t hold on any more. My legs collapsed under me, and I crouched, skirt around my waist, panties around my ankles, knees apart, fingers buried, and stroked, as fast as I could, my hands a blur between my spread legs.

I’m sure I was making noises, but I didn’t care then. I just kept watching the tip of his cock disappearing and reappearing through his hand, and stroking myself. Suddenly his movement changed, and my finger slipped, lost in the moment. It didn’t matter. As his cock reappeared once more, a thick stream of milky semen flew from it, and sprayed on the glass opposite him, and as he came, I did too, my muscles contracting almost painfully in this position, and I shuddered over and over, as he continued to spray the glass. My body jerked in time with his releases, and my fingers, deep inside me now, were trapped and squeezed wonderfully.

As he stopped painting the shower cubicle, I calmed down a little, and started to realise what a ludicrous situation this was, and tried to stand up, in hopes of leaving the bathroom before I was caught. It was a waste of time. My legs had been strained a little too much, and as I tried to straighten them, I fell headlong onto the floor. It couldn’t possibly have been more embarrassing.

He opened the shower door as I stumbled around, trying to push my skirt down, and pull my panties up, and smiled at me.

“You know, Sandy, that’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen, but this last part is a let-down.”

“You saw me?”

“God yes, from the moment you walked in. I thought maybe you were going to accuse me of leaving a mess in the shower.”

“I was.”

“Ah. And…?”

“Shit, I… I couldn’t. I was…”

“Yes, I could see.”

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“There’s no need Sandy. Umm… at the risk of being bold… you could probably do with a shower.”

“Oh, I… I couldn’t.”

“Uh huh. Come on. Instead of trying to pull those cute panties up, how about taking them off? It’s not like I haven’t seen already, is it?”

“Look, it wasn’t my intention to…”

“I know, I know. I was really angry when you walked in, but somehow the idea of you watching…”

“Oh. You too?”

“God yes. Listen, I do jerk off in the shower, but it’s not normally like that. That was amazing. You were too.”

“Well, I’ve never done that, crouching on the floor of a bathroom, and I never intended to, either.”

“Come and get in the shower, Sandy.”

“You sure, Nev?”

“Oh, yeah. Unless you don’t want to.”

“Oh, I do. I do.”

“Well, come on then.”

I stood there in front of him then, and slowly removed the remainder of my clothes, dropping them to the floor carelessly. I was momentarily embarrassed at him seeing my breasts, but realised that was ridiculous, and showed them off proudly instead.

As I opened the shower door, and stepped inside, Nev moved away from the water, and insisted that I get myself wet. I turned away from him, tipping back my head under the hot water, and let it run down my front, a little flowing over the back of my head, and down my back. Nev squeezed some liquid soap onto his hands, and started rubbing it into my shoulders and back, slowly increasing his range of movement to include my arms, and then my hips.

Feeling the heat of the water now, I moved back slightly, and pushed my ass against him. I could feel that his erection had recovered, and hoped that he wasn’t going to remain quite so gentlemanly. I need not have worried.

As I gently rubbed my body against his, he squeezed a little more soap and moved his hands to the front of my body, slipping down over my collarbone, knowing somehow, where and when, to stop. His fingertips Avrupa yakası travesti walked down over the tops of my small breasts before sliding gently all over them, soaping and kneading, squeezing my nipples between his fingertips before continuing down.

It’s a strange thing, but my belly button, which is normally ticklish, becomes immensely erotic after I have an orgasm. I’ve been able to come, when I’m alone, just by stroking there in the right way, but never for the first orgasm. I’m sure he didn’t know, unless one of a very short list had blabbed, but he somehow did exactly the right thing, sliding in circles around it, and occasionally shooting straight over the top. I said nothing, encouraging him with my body, and as he continued applying just the right amount of pressure, and his lips started to nibble my ear, I came. Not the earth-shattering near-pain I’d experienced before on the floor, but a gentle wave of pleasure, culminating in a hard clench of my muscles, and a wonderful zing at the end of all the nerves in my body.

I wasn’t sure he’d noticed for a moment, as his fingers continued their caresses, and his lips explored my shoulder, but he knew. He just didn’t want to break the silence.

I felt released then, my needs taken care of, my stress erased, and my body tingling. There was just one more thing I wanted, and I knew it was the same thing he had in mind. Nev was about eight inches taller than me, so I knew it would be a bit fiddly, but I wanted him just how he was, from behind.

I leaned forward and put both of my hands on the wall in front of me, the water pouring down my back now, and pooling between us wherever possible, and pushed my butt back towards him, making it clear what I wanted again, without speaking. I parted my legs a little, while trying not to bend them too much, and I could feel Nev positioning himself between my legs.

His hands, which had remained in front of me, had moved their way down between my legs, and he used them to help position his hard cock in the right place. Desperate now, I pushed against it, willing it inside myself, and as we both wiggled, and he used his hands to help, the tip of his cock suddenly popped through my labia, and he was inside. It felt so big, due to both the position and its actual size that I hesitated momentarily, and he froze, worried that he’d taken a liberty I hadn’t intended. But I was just savouring the moment, and pushed myself down over him, his hot hardness filling me, stretching me, arousing me yet again.

As the full length of him impaled me, I started to move up and down on him, pushing him out and pulling him in, the water from the shower flowing in and around me as well, the hot water and his hot cock so different. I could hear him panting behind me, and his thrusts were becoming a little desperate when I felt his fingers on me, my swollen clit caressed by his wet fingertips, his desperate cock pounding inside me, his breath in my ear, his tongue on my earlobe, and I lost it.

My muscles clenched tightly around him, and I orgasmed. Not the earth-shatter of the first, or the slow pleasure of the second, but a pounding hot wet release. And as I came, clamping him inside me, he did too, grunting and moaning behind me as his seed lodged so deep inside my sopping clamp. We both stood there, in that insane position, each of us encouraging the other to one more muscle contraction, and then, inevitably, we collapsed, arms and legs in all directions, our bodies separated suddenly, and the shower pouring over both of our heads.

Unable to breath where I was, I moved to the side, only to hear a pounding on the shower wall. It was our flatmate Linda, and she wanted to know if we were ever going to get out of there, and stop wasting water. She was also pleased that I seemed to have fixed the masturbation problem, but her language wasn’t very nice!

We stumbled out of the shower, wrapped the only towel around both of us, left the remaining evidence on the shower wall, all my clothes on the floor, and walked in as dignified a way as we could manage out to the hallway, to a standing ovation from four people.

Throwing the towel aside, realising there wasn’t much point, I dragged Nev to my room, ostensibly for recuperation. The poor boy barely survived the day.

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The Sex Square Ch. 00-01

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***Note: This is the first of a four-part series. Check my other stories for the rest of the series.***

Prologue:

Some men would call me a hero. Some would call me an addict. Some women would call me a pig and some would call me weak. Some people are forced to make difficult choices and some are just destined for this.

In some ways I’m quite proud of my achievement here, but in others I’m haunted by the fact I was never caught. I’m riddled with guilt over breaking her trust, but yet the caveman in me can’t help but be awestruck by my latest conquests.

That’s right – I said conquests, as in plural; multiple even. This is the story of how I came to be entwined in what can only be described as a sex square.

It began with a life lesson.

After just over a year and a half trying to be the hotshot businessman I had longed to be since high school, I was fed humble pie when my business went under. The failure to launch wasn’t entirely my fault but I accept the blame that is partially mine. Had I not hired a certain freelancer to perform duties which were beyond the scope of my abilities I wouldn’t have been placed in this mess; I’m too trusting and as such I hired said freelancer on a verbal agreement. He assured me he was qualified for the job and knew exactly what needed to be done. This was far from the case.

I had secured limited funding for my business and was mere weeks away from launch. I had clients lined up and had schmoozed others. I’d learned the strengths and weaknesses of my competitors and had everything else all lined up and ready to roll – save for one vital element of the website which was to be my main source of revenue.

I’d spent months seeking out the right freelancer for this one-time temporary job, to integrate two systems into a perfectly synchronised workflow for me and my staff to use on a day-to-day basis. I’d delayed the business launch already and wasn’t prepared to risk another delay. I’d set a new target launch date as soon as I found this freelancer.

As the weeks went by I was becoming impatient. The guy was spending far too much time on this and wasn’t getting very far. He continued to assure me he had everything in hand. I gave it another week before reminding him I was on a limited budget and couldn’t afford him for much longer. It was at this point that he stated he wasn’t skilled enough to achieve what I was hoping for. Cue devastation. I’d already paid him for his time up until now and he’d tampered with our website in his efforts and in the process killed several processes, rendering the website somewhat useless. What’s worse is he’d corrupted the hard drive on our server.

I was ruined. I’d almost run out of money and couldn’t afford to rectify the problems he’d created in trying to achieve my goal. He essentially lied to me in order to get the job and then “winged it”, hoping he’d figure it out eventually. When I raised the issue of a lack of further funding, he got out of there as soon as possible. What’s worse is he later billed me for completing the work and when I refused to pay, he tried to sue me.

And this was all because I was naïve in business. He took advantage of my naïveté. As soon as it happened I’d learned my lesson, but the hits just kept on coming. Court fees to defend myself, fees for appeals, fees for a broken server which I was still paying for, general fees for the rest of the elements of the business, and of course I tried to retain staff until I knew what I was doing. In a matter of 3 months my business Maltepe travesti was bankrupt and I wasn’t far off personally. The one saving grace is that when it came time to attend the hearing in court, he was due to pay final court fees and never did so, which meant the case was thrown out.

As a result of this trauma, I was forced to move back home with my parents. No longer living a more lavish lifestyle with the bachelor pad; no longer enjoying the freedom and independence that allowed me to be a ladies man. No, now I was just a kid in his early twenties, heading towards mid-twenties with a failed idea for a business that had moved back in with his folks.

I definitely learned the important lesson though; won’t be making that mistake again.

Part 1:

After a little while living back home, I was somewhat settled back into my teenage hermit routine. Nocturnal living hours, with many of them spent on games consoles. Junk food galore and mindless television shows. Celebrating days where I had the house to myself and away from the irritations of parents being around all the time. It was difficult, but regressing back to yesteryear had its perks it seemed.

Thankfully I wasn’t a complete waste of space by this point and still managed to go out and socialise. I still managed to find myself a part-time job; it wasn’t anything fancy and was far from the income I had projected in my business plan, but it helped. It was the combination of these two elements which allowed me to get back into the dating scene and meet my wonderful current girlfriend Lydia.

Lydia is no doubt the love of my life and I’m sure one day, once I revisit my business and save up those profits, I’ll be buying her an engagement ring and asking her to make an honest man out of me. In some ways she’s exactly what I aspire to be, but in others, she’s everything I detest in the wealthy. Her father pretty much owns and runs the city; she grew up on silver spoons, ponies and caviar. I grew up on hard graft, saving up for a weekend trip to the local store for a comic and sweets and occasional visits to the park. We grew up in two completely different worlds and this is where I find life difficult with her sometimes.

It’s not her per se, as she’s a sweet little angel and was clever enough to know there was a world outside the rich and fabulous bubble she grew up in, but it’s her family – her obnoxious family!

Her brother’s a jackass – plain and simple; he’s your typical trust fund kid with a face you just want to flatten and an aptitude for exercise, sports and mistreating girls. Everything the nerdy kid in me hates. Her little sister is your typical spoiled brat who stomps her foot to get anything she wants. Her father, while a nice man on the face of it, reminds me of an Italian mafia man.

He’s intimidatingly distant and vague and I’m sure he knows the ins and outs of our city’s underbelly and takes full advantage of it to keep ahead in the business of maintaining a wealthy lifestyle. Her mother? A stuck-up snob of a desperate housewife who enjoys nothing but the finest things – or so she’ll tell you to your face, but in reality she was probably brought up in a world like mine where obtaining anything in life was hard work and a never-ending cycle of trial and error. There’s just something about her…

Lydia shares an interesting mix of all these characteristics, but above all that, retains a level of grounded-ness that I find so endearing. She’s level-headed, book smart and street Ümraniye travesti smart, kind, caring, loves kids and aspires to simply teach children at school. That’s it; she doesn’t want to follow in her father’s footsteps, nor is she interested in what he thinks of her choices. She’s an independent young woman who’s quite content with settling for a “normal” life.

I love that girl. I really do.

That’s why it pains me somewhat, to recall the days of December last year when all this started. Although technically this started in my late-teens before I ever even moved out of my parents’ house and tasted independence.

When I was a teen, my mother began to work a lot more. Times were tough and everyone’s salaries were getting smaller, their working hours were getting longer, and pensions were, well, somewhat pointless to invest in. So my mum being the thoughtful, caring woman she is, set out to help the family as best she could. She felt this was neglecting the up-keep of the home, so she hired a cleaning lady to come in once or twice a week just to keep on top of any housework she wasn’t able to do during the week.

Now, anyone who’s been a teenager knows about endorphins and knows what they can do to your body and mind. I was in the prime of my experimental self-discovery years so when a young woman in her mid-twenties (at the time), named Carla waltzed into my life to clean our house a couple of days each week, I was smitten.

In all honesty, this woman was, and still is a goddess. Her body is lusciously curvy and combined with silky smooth dark skin and shimmering black hair, she could easily be described as a chocolate dream girl. Her boobs alone drove me near-insane at that age; every time I caught a glimpse of those 36E’s I’d almost instantly get hard. Her 24 inch waist led to 36 inch hips, which for some women might not be the best of proportions, but for her, this meant booty and knowing how to work it!

As I exited my late teens and entered into my twenties, Carla began to wear different outfits to work. It seemed as though she was doing this for me. I was always the only person in the house whenever she was around – more often than not, deliberately so. So it was either that she’d met a guy and was going on a date with him in the middle of the afternoon when she finished at our house, or she was wearing increasingly revealing outfits just for my benefit.

The usual state of play was that she and my mother would communicate via phone calls or text messages and then notes left on the kitchen counter. From time to time, their paths would cross just as one was leaving and the other was arriving. My mother never made comment about Carla’s attire once; it didn’t seem to matter to her as long as the house was ship-shape.

I soon discovered Carla’s choice of clothing was purely for my benefit when, one summer afternoon while I was out on the decking which led to our garden, soaking up some rays, listening to some music, Carla came outside to clean the exterior of the house, wash windows and sweep the decking – for the first time I could ever recall. Wearing jean shorts and a tank top and not much else, with her hair tied back, I knew something was up. She knew my parents were out of town for a little mid-year holiday. I knew she wasn’t one to usually clean the outside. Glances into her brown eyes told me everything I needed to know.

A little dip into my book of “porno pick-up lines” later and she was helping rub cream into my back and shoulders to Tuzla travesti protect my pale white skin from the sun.

It didn’t take long before she took advantage of my vulnerability and began to kiss my neck as she rubbed my back and shoulders. Gradually she began rubbing her hands over my arms and around my torso as she nibbled away at my neck and whispered sweet nothings into my ear. Carla the cleaning lady wanted me – and wanted me bad!

She’d been sneaking peeks at me while I masturbated on afternoons – often thinking about her, ironically. She’d peeked through the cracks in the loose door of the bathroom while I showered afterwards. She’d stared at my backside while I bent down to grab snacks from the cupboards when she was cleaning the kitchen. I felt the irony of the role reversal. She was the pervert – although I wasn’t totally innocent in all this!

Turning into her, we began to kiss as she ran her hands up and down my body while my skin began to glisten in the sun. I trembled lightly as I brought my nervous fingers to her skin and attempted to do the same and massage her body as we made out. In moments we were in the throes of passion with our tongues connected on physical and sensory levels. Our nostrils were filling with each other’s pheromones and our hands clasped as her body ground against mine with her legs straddling mine.

We broke the kiss and she directed my head towards her chest, where I breathed her in for a moment before smothering her right breast with my mouth as best I could, licking through the thin fabric of her bright yellow tank top. After just a few licks and sucks, her large areola and nipple were showing through quite prominently to the point where I instinctively sucked hard on her nipple and gnawed on it gently. Her hands ran lower down my body and began to seek out my erection all while writhing away against it.

As I moved over to give her left breast equal treatment, her mobile phone began to vibrate in her pocket. I presumed this would only enhance her experience, but no – it halted everything. Carla practically pushed me off her as she struggled to free her phone from her tight fitting jean shorts. She answered anxiously and I began to wonder what the issue was. I ran my hands up her legs and began to massage her backside while kissing her navel through her top as she spoke to her caller.

I was completely oblivious to the conversation but it didn’t take long for her to hang up and snap her flip-phone – which was in vogue at the time – shut. She bent down and kissed me passionately on the lips and told me we’d pick this up later and that she’d come back for me that night if I wanted to continue. Of course, I agreed, but had to know why she was leaving in such a hurry.

She explained that her sister, whom had been suffering with a mental disability for the most of her life, had fallen ill again and urgently needed her at the facility where she was being cared for. I felt nothing but guilt and confusion as to the situation I found myself in and let Carla go.

That was the last I saw of Carla before I moved out of my parents’ house. She needed to take some time off to care for her sister and it was in this time where I was able to develop my business plan and study business courses part-time. Of course, I now know I moved out far too soon and couldn’t afford the apartment I’d chosen anyway, but hindsight is always 20-20.

So as you can tell, returning back home in the winter of last year meant returning to the scene of many mental sex crimes in my old bedroom; an old bedroom which Carla had returned to keeping clean on a weekly basis. Cue sexual confusion and frustration – on multiple levels.

***Note: This is the first of a four-part series. Check my other stories for the rest of the series.***

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The Roommate Ch. 01: My Niena

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Claimer: Hey guys and girls. This is my first time writing and I greatly appreciate the support. Also, English is my second language so please forgive me if there are any linguistic abnormalities. I will try to update this series as often as possible and as long as I can. The story is, of course, entirely made up, and if there is any degree of similarity to events in real life it would be sheer coincidence.

*****

So where do I start about Niena?

To talk about our history, it would be something like a cheesy high school style novel. So, I will spare my dear readers the pain of details and summarize the situation up till now.

I met her in law school and we were class mates throughout the years. I still remember the first time I saw her. It was a summer afternoon, in the orientation program of the law school. She just came by casually and introduced herself “Hi I am Niena.” and shook my hand, with a big earnest smile on her face, seemingly telling you that there is no one else she would rather talk to, and no place else she would rather be.

My first impression was that she was a typical Slavic beauty (she told me later that she has Balkan origins), like those in Repin or Bryullov’s painting. She is a short girl, about 165 tops, with hair the color of ocher running down like waterfall down to her shoulders. She has a brownish eye, the color of condensed caramel, with amazingly long eyelashes. Her skin is white and smooth like alabaster. This skin caused me to have a habit which remains until today, which is to rub my face against her neck and shoulder any time I am tired or stressed. She has a chin which is sharp compared to her cheek bones, making her face visually reminiscent of a berry or hazelnut.

“Hey I am Rudolph Chang, Rudie for short.” I smiled and shook her hand back.

“The pleasure is mine. So, you are international students like me?” She asked nonchalantly, a glass of wine in her hand.

“Yes, but I did spend a lot of time here before.” I answered “So, yeah, hot day, isn’t it?”

My inner self is laughing out so much. Seriously? Was I talking to this beautiful girl in front about weather?

She chuckled a bit, obviously noticing the weirdness of the conversation direction, but answered “Yeah I guess. I mean in Balkan the summer is probably hotter.”

Thus began the weirdest conversation I had with girls for a long time. I was, for some reasons, a bit nervous, and just desperately tried to keep the conversation going. So I spoke whatever topic that spurred into my mind. For the next half hour, we (mostly me) talked about wine, Danube River, First Turkish-Serbian war, NATO and separationist movement in Balkan and Asia. Years later when we spoke of this event I insisted that it was the start of flirtation, she stated that it was like being on a slightly informal thesis defense session.

Well there are reasons to be attributed to. As dear readers must have noticed, I am of Asian origin, a whole continent where sex is taboo and discretion is a highly sought after virtue, thus making flirting all but a lost art to us. Having spent considerable time abroad however, I am much more open than my cultural comrades, and I am comfortable around girls. I am 182, and 75kg, quite tall for an Asian, and all years of passion with basketball and soccer left me reasonably well built. I am not the type of guy that makes a girl want to drop her pants like an anchor, but I do quite ok with ladies. Ergo I concluded that it was Niena who made me behave like an idiot that afternoon. That women was something different.

Going back to our conversation earlier, while we have talked for half an hour, and had two glasses of wine each, we were both happily tipsy. This is the moment when Niena’s eyes rested on a small trampoline in the school garden.

“Ohhhhhh a trampoline!” she screamed. “Hold my glass.”

Before I knew it, I had an extra glass in my hand, her coat in my fore arm and she is kicking off her shoes as she walks to the trampoline on the glass and shouting “ohhh I always loved those things. They are so liberating, don’t you think?”

As she climbed in and started to jump up and down, giggling with a laughter that reminded me of a silver Christmas bell, I cannot help but to admire her flying body on the trampoline. For a petit girl, she is extremely voluptuous, with a soft and curvy body. Her ass is extremely firm. In fact, it is so firm that with her tight jeans, a subtle gap manifested between the cheeks that reminded me of a peach. She was wearing a flowery silk dress that flies up and down like the wings of butterfly. When the dress flies up I can see her ab which has a slight Adonis belt running through it. Moreover, I saw a red shade flashing by which I can only assume is the bra.

“Hey Anadolu Yakası Travesti girl, that is not jumping.” I teased her. “Come on jump higher, is that the best you can do?”

She complied gladly, and as she jumped higher I finally got a chance to assess her breasts. They were not huge, my guess is B+ tops, but fit a petit girl like her perfectly. They seem very perky and jumpy. As she jumped up and down they were almost struggling to fly out of her collar, forming a deep cleavage whilst doing so.

While I was drowning in my own thoughts and fantasies, she finally climbed down the trampoline, panting slightly, a flush forming on her cheeks and her front chest. I did not realize it until she took her wine glass out of my hands.

“Well well, somebody had a good show to watch, didn’t he?” she smiled a devilish smile, teasing me. I was a bit embarrassed, but as a matter of fact, I had a semi-erection ongoing, and I wish I had not worn my tight suit paints that day. I hope for my own sake that she did not notice that (later she told me she did), and if she did, please do not let her think of me as a creep (she did not, au contraire she thought it was quite cute).

My dear readers, by now we were both tipsy, she flashed her boobs at me already and I have got a boner to work on. In the usual line of this type of story I would be doing her hot and heavy in the bathroom by now, which actually would have made my life a lot easier.

But God apparently said “Hell No!”

For a whole year, we remained friends, and we have always been best friends. We told each other secrets, we shared our histories, as we got closer and chummier we start to kiss regularly, when I was drunk I even groped her ass and boob. There was even one occasion when we both got drunk and she reached into my pant and fondled my penis, however it ended there as we were both terminally intoxicated. We both laughed about it the next morning, and I was thankful that it never became an issue or source of embarrassment.

Otherwise there has been no progress. We are just friends even though we were inseparable. The whole world saw us as a couple and everyone except our closest friends thought we were dating. I never quite knew my feelings towards Melina. Was it friendship, comradery, sexual or love? Who knows and it is too hard to figure it out. That being said, I do feel a strange feeling when she was dating other guys throughout law school. That feeling, as I would later come to realize, was jealousy raising its ugly head. Yet I continue to persuade myself that all was OK, that I was not, in fact, mayor of the friendzone.

Law school finished sooner than I thought and the long anxious process of job searching is finally upon us. Due to sheer luck or act of God we ended up working in the same city in two of the best law firms there is. Quite naturally we became roommates. There was not even a formal discussion. In retrospect, it seemed to just make sense, just taken for granted, that we would stick together. We found a good apartment near the center of the city at an amazingly reasonable price. Even our thesis professor congratulated us that we were “building our castle”. Many of our classmates also sent their regards. To them this is just a college couple moving in together. Everything seems to be fine.

Only I knew the downside of living together with Niena. From outside it looks great. I was living with a cute girl that I like. We got so used to each other that she never dresses so fully in front of me. If she caught me stare at her breast or ass she would just chuckle, and sometimes even shake them to me in a jokingly provocative way. However, I remain “the friend”, and she had a constant parade of guys around her. None of this guys were serious relationships, yet they continue to be around, like the flies around a gourmet meal.

In the incident that I am to describe now, she was dating this guy named Klaas–what kind of name is Klaas, anyway. She seems happy with him, and his name is constantly on her lips. I, as the friend, once again have to do the thing that I do best–smile nonchalantly, ask few polite questions and the half-hearted “well I am glad you are happy.”. It is obvious that I like her, and she is fully aware of that. However, there is always someone in the way, and I was always the guy who got chosen over. It is the suckiest feeling in the world perhaps.

Then came one fateful evening. It was Sunday evening, I was at home, flipping through some big old legal archives in preparation for my bar exam. Niena was supposed to be seeing Klaas (Stupid Klaas~) for a date. It was eight o’clock and I was lost in the Convention of International Sales of Goods, when I suddenly heard the key in the door. I looked Antalya Travesti at the watch in bewilderment. This was way too early for a date.

Niena stormed in, her pale face red with emotion. The redness stretched from her cheek to her neck to her collar bone. It was like a trail of wild berries buried shallowly in the snow.

“So?” I asked cautiously “Good date?”

“Does this look like the face of someone who had a good date?” she snapped at me, rolling her eyes. “The jerk stood me up.”

“oh?” I asked, trying really hard to hide a smile “how awful. why?”

“He texted me that he got lost in a forest! In a freaking forest! What is he, Robin Hood or Tarzan? Who goes to a bloody forest right before a date?” Her questions fired like Gatling guns.” Well if he does not care, then screw him! I am not waiting at his house for this forest man!”

“Oh no you should not.” I mused, gently leading her emotions. “Forest man sucks.”

She was going on and on, saying that she was definitely breaking up with him and listing all his other transgressions. I have known her long enough not to stop her and let her emotions run its course.

When she was finally done, she slumped into the sofa, put up her knee and flung her elbows around it, sunken into a sullen silence.

I sat next to her, put my arm around her shoulder, and hug her until her head is on my shoulder. “Darling, we both know you are way too good for that guy.” I murmured.

“No I am stupid and always choose guys like that.” she mumbled with a blurred voice, on the verge of tears.

“No, you are not.” I sat up and cupped her face so that she is looking me directly in the eye “You are the smartest and most beautiful girl on God’s green Earth.”

She smiled, her big brown eyes have bits of tears in them “You really think that don’t you?”

Before I can answer she leaned in and we kissed, gently at first, just lips brushing. Then it got more intense, her tongue found its way into my mouth, and I returned the favor. It was like two snakes in a courtship ritual, coiled together in endless bliss. My hand was at her waist level, and moved up to her chest level when encouraged by her tongue movement. Her body is warm and moist. When I grazed across her belly I could feel her abs trembling gently beneath my touch.

I reached behind her back, running my fingers all the way up her spine, sending a shiver in her body. I threw discretion to the wind and went for the bra. It took me a few seconds to unhook her bra and lift up her shirt.

I still remembered the first time I saw her breast. They are not enormous, but perfectly shaped and extremely perky. The moment the bra came off, they literally bounced from her bra and shot up in the air. Her nipple has a pinkish brown tone in it, sharp contrast to her white chest skin, and she has quite big areola for her boob size.

I have been waiting for a moment like this for years, and I do not need to be told what to do in this situation. I laid her down on my knee so that she is using my legs as pillows and then bent down. With one hand cupping and cupping her left breast, I gently sucked the nipple of the right breast into my mouth.

I could feel her body tense up under me. Gently I rocked her nipple between my teeth and my tone, and circled the tip of my tone around her nipples. Niena made a squealing noise and arched her back, throwing her chest out to stick her nipple deeper into my mouth.

I switched my mouth to her other nipple. Her breast feels soft yet perky under my hand. I don’t know if it is due to excitement or coldness, but her bosoms are trembling under my hand and mouth, like a bowlful of jelly.

My hand slid across her belly and reached for the button of her jeans. All of a sudden, her hand clamped around mine, firmly stopping any further advances.

“No, not tonight.” She gasped, blushing furiously and slightly out of breath. “I am on my period.”

Disappointment washed over me like a tidal wave. There is already a huge bulge between my legs and she must have felt it, laying her head on my leg while I sucked on her tits. With a topless beauty lying on your leg, yet unable to progress further down, this is a major boner kill for most of the guys in the world.

My disappointment must have been obvious, for Niena chuckled and caressed my face “aww babe, you have the face of a pug whose bone is taken away.”

“well I don’t know about bones. But my boner is slipping away.” I sighed loudly.

Niena sat up from my legs and then stood up, leaving me sitting on the kitchen sofa, her alluring top still showing. She looked down at me, cupping and rubbing her breast in the most seductive way possible.

“well your soldier is not off duty yet.” She smiled Ataşehir Travesti a wicked smile, “It is not like I just have one place to make it happy.”

With that said, she knelt down in front of the couch between my legs, and started unbuttoning my trousers.

It is not long before my penis was free from its denim prison. As an Asian I was always a bit sensitive about my genital girth. We can joke all we want, but biologically the Caucasians are at an advantage. While in Asian I am well endowed, here I would just be average, and always had to make up with perseverance and techniques. To my relief, Niena seems to like what she saw.

“Oh, my good little soldier.” She teased me, gently blowing air on the tip of my penis. “Time to salute the officer.”

She had one hand on my penis, the other caressing my balls, and gave me a kiss on the tip. She is still wearing the lipsticks she was wearing for the date, leaving a purple hickey on the tip. She looked up at me seductively from between my legs.

“Let’s have some fun tonight.”

I do not need her telling me, I was thrusting my penis as forward as possible, trying to pushing through her beautiful lips and into her mouth, but she leaned back.

“No rush, babe, no rush” she cooed me gently “We have all the time in the world, and I want to do this right.”

She then circled her left thumb and index finger into a ring around the base of my scrotum, with the right thumb and index finger into a ring around my penis shaft and started to move gently up and down.

Her tongue was tingling me on my balls, playing and tossing them around, occasionally sucking them in her hot and moist mouth. Sometimes she would reach down to the base of my scrotum, licking all the way from that sensitive skin between scrotum and ass all the way to the base of my shaft. Her right hand did not go idle, doing long strokes to my penis from the base to the tip, and then all the way done, and then repeat.

Very soon I am fully erect, and a few drops of precum is forming at the tip of my penis. Niena seems very pleased at her work.

“Mmmmm” she murmured as she licked the precum from my tip “creamy. I want more. Stand up for me.” She clapped me on my ass.

I stood up from the couch. She is now kneeling between my legs, her hand grabbing the behind of my knees, a wicked smile in her brown eyes. It was the most amazing picture ever.

“You always took such good care of me, Rudie.” she whispered “Time to return the favor. Let it go babe, let it all go.”

She closed her blessed lip around my penis, and started to move up and down. My hand closed around her head, controlling the speed and depth. Her tongue is caressing the ridge between my tip and my shaft like a butter fly, exploring every nooks and crannies. It was warm, soft, and slippery, and the tingly feeling of her tongue made me hard as iron.

One of her hands reached up to toss my balls around, the other reached between my legs, gently massaging the prostate area from the outside. My lower body is one fire with sensations. Her tongue gently wraps around my penis like a siren hugging the sailor before it drugs him down. The tip of my penis can occasionally touch the back of her throat, the soft flesh making me jumpy. Her saliva runs from my shaft to the base to the balls and even dropped on the floor. There is no better lube in the world.

In about 10 minutes there was silence in the kitchen, just the gentle sounds of sucking and saliva gushing. Gradually I came so close around the edge I started to moan gently. Niena took notice of that. Her sucking power increased, creating a vacuum in her mouth so strong that it is visible from her cheeks, and her frequency accelerated abruptly. It feels like she is milking me.

Then I exploded.

I tried to shout her name, but words got caught in my throat. I feel gushes after gushes of sperm shooting out of my tip. The orgasm was so strong that I almost jumped and had trouble sitting still. The amount of my cum surprised Niena, but she did not let go of my penis. For about 20 seconds I unloaded like a fire hydrant. My toes curled and bit into the carpet of the kitchen. Even after I finished shooting, my penis still spasms furiously and the waves of pleasure keeps coming. Niena’s tongue and lips flickered encouragingly, as if telling me to spread every drop.

When I have finally finished cumming and laid back, Milena leaned in close to me, opened up her mouth and showed me the almost overflowing sperm. She then closed her mouth and swallowed them in one gup.

“Mmmmm” She mused “Taste like corn cream soup. Think I will skip starters tonight.”

I pulled her close and gave her a deep kiss, our tongues dangling together. I could still taste myself within her.

“If this is what your mouth feels like, your pussy is going to kill me.” I said.

“Oh you” She laughed, hitting me in the chest with her tiny fist. “Don’t you dare die on me my little solder. I am not close to be finished with you yet.”

“Yes ma’am.” I smiled.” Neither am I.”

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The Seduction

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The Garden

Tanya sighed, and sipped her red wine. Another company mixer; another night to reflect on how much she really didn’t like these company sponsored meat markets. And yet, she still came, still pathetically attempted to be part of the crowd. “Ah well, at least the drinks are free,” she muttered under her breath, checking her watch to see if she could leave and not be noticed. As she glanced back up, her blue eyes were suddenly arrested by intense green eyes from across the room. A tall man, with wavy black hair, was talking to Nora, a willowy blonde from her department, and he was looking over Nora’s shoulder at her, a sly smirk on his lips while he conversed with Nora. Tanya had never seen him before, and figured he must have come with Nora. Shaking her head, she looked away, and moved over towards the French doors that opened out into the elaborate garden of the hall. She could feel his eyes still on her as she drained her glass and went for another from a passing waiter. She surreptitiously watched him, until she was certain he wasn’t looking at her, and she slipped out the doors into the cool night.

The night breeze played about her auburn hair, swirling her flowing skirt around her legs. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure that she wasn’t being followed, and entered the labyrinth. The tall hedges immediately enclosed her on either side, and she breathed in the cool green smell of growing things. Tanya wandered the path aimlessly, sipping wine and thinking about his green eyes. She couldn’t stop thinking about them, and it drove her a bit crazy. “I’ve probably had too much to drink,” she said sarcastically to herself, “and I’m imagining the whole thing. Get it together woman.” She couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she was being watched, however, but she shrugged it off as a lingering feeling from the party. Tanya rounded a corner, and came face to face with a dead end. A marble bench sat in front of it, with flowers framing either end. “Great,” she sighed, and she turned around, intending on retracing her steps.

She turned the corner back the way she came, and shrieked, her heart in her throat, dropping her wine glass on the grassy path. There HE stood, that same smirk on his handsome face, the wind ruffling his black hair. She gasped, and blurted out, “What are YOU doing here?” He smiled a bit wider, and stepped a bit closer to her, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh, I just thought you might need a bit of company,” his deep voice rumbled, “You shouldn’t walk around all by yourself out here.”

“Thank you,” she stammered, “but I’m quite capable of taking care of myself. Now, if you will excuse me, I should be getting back to the, um, the party.” She stooped to pick up her dropped glass, and when she stood up, he was right in front of her, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that was frightening, yet thrilling. She found she could not look away as she straightened, and she backed up a bit, feeling a little like she was being hunted.

“You aren’t afraid of me, are you,” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She gathered herself, and said, “of course not. You just seem to have this disconcerting way of approaching me. I don’t even know who you are, or to what purpose you might have by coming out here and sneaking up on me, but I am telling you I don’t appreciate your cavalier attitude. Now, if you don’t mind, I am going back to the party.” With that, she started to stalk off, the movement marred by the fact that her heels sunk into the soft grass with each step. She staggered, and almost fell, and he caught her arm swiftly, helping her to stand back up.

He bowed floridly, and said, “My humblest apologies, my dear lady. My name is Damon, and I merely wished to make your acquaintance. I certainly did not wish to offend you, nor frighten you, but you looked rather alone, and I thought that a lovely woman such as yourself should not be alone at such an… interesting gathering.”

She gaped at him, and blushed hard, her pale skin turning pink. She said, “Well, Damon, it’s lovely to meet you. My name is Tanya, and I’m sorry if I was a bit rude, but I really don’t like these parties much, and I was sure you were there with Nora, so I didn’t want to bother you.” Where had that come from, she thought with an inner groan. “And as you can tell, these gatherings aren’t all that interesting; they’re more like a meat market, and I really don’t know why I keep coming to them.” She realized that he hadn’t let go of her arm yet, and she attempted to shrug him off, unsuccessfully. She gave him a withering look that had worked in the past to get rid of pests, but he only grinned deeper, and tugged her closer to him, until he was inches from her face.

“You don’t really want to go, do you,” he asked softly, and an electric thrill raced through her body. She certainly was intrigued by his demeanor, and caught off guard, but she was sure that someone might show up at any minute, and that would be all she needed to ruin her reputation. To her surprise, Travesti she found herself gazing back at him, watching his sensuous lips curl over his teeth in a sexy grin.

She shook herself mentally, and said, “How dare you! We have only just met, you are here with another woman, and you persist in this manner towards me.” He laughed, his whole face lit up with pleasure.

“You are a saucy little lass, aren’t you,” he grinned, grabbing her other arm and holding her closer. “I am not here with anyone, my dear, and I certainly wouldn’t want to offend your sensibilities, but I do believe that we connected from across the room, and I knew I had to meet you.”

She took a step back. Her body was singing from the heat of his, and she found his attention to her very flattering. Her heart was racing, and she had to remember to breath. Internally, her body was responding in a very primal way to his, but she tried once again to impose order on her raging hormones. “Well, yes, we certainly did, um, connect, but don’t you think this is moving just a bit fast?”

“Well, when I see something I want, I don’t wait around. And I want you,” he said, pulling her close to him, lowering his lips to hers, and curling her toes in a scorching kiss. She started to melt into it, a low moan rising from her throat, when she suddenly realized she was kissing a complete stranger. She drew back sharply, and pulled her arms sharply from his grasp.

“You beast! You have completely overstepped any lines of decency. How dare you…” was all she got out, before he had her in his arms again, his mouth covering hers in another blistering kiss. Her eyes widened, and she struggled briefly, but her body responded to his kiss with a wave of desire that made her pulse skip a beat and her knees buckle.

His tongue danced over her lips, teasing them open, and when she did, he plunged in, taking her mouth prisoner. He slid one of his hands up her arm, to cup her jaw with his strong fingers, and moved the other arm around to press against her back, pushing her body against his. She could feel his hardness pressing into her groin, and heat pooled between her thighs. She moaned, and he broke off the kiss, a sly smile on his lips. “Now, I ask you once again, you don’t really want to go, do you,” he said softly, his voice huskier, his eyes hot and hooded. She focused her eyes on his, and her breath caught at the naked lust burning in those green orbs.

“No,” she whispered, giving in to the desire humming throughout her body.

His smiled turned triumphant, and he boldly slid a hand up to squeeze a breast through her dress. She gasped at the touch, her nipple hardening almost immediately from the possessive touch. He nuzzled at her neck, grinding his pelvis into hers, pushing her back towards the bench. When the backs of her knees touched the bench, he pushed her down onto it, and then knelt between her knees. He slid her skirt up to her waist, kissing his way up her legs, nipping and licking at the tender flesh of her inner thighs. The onslaught had her mind reeling, and she leaned back, small whimpers escaping her throat.

He slid a finger across the outside of her panties, taking note of the damp spot blooming in the center. He smiled, and said, “Well, I see we have a wet little pussy here, don’t we? A wanton little lass, aren’t ye?” At his words, fresh heat coursed down her body, making her breasts heavy with desire, and fresh juices to flow from her core. She spread her legs willingly as he bent down again, pulling her panties aside and licking the bare lips with the tip of his tongue.

She breathed out, “oh yessss…” as he lapped at her clit, dipping his tongue into her pussy and sucking at her labial lips. She yelped as he slid in first one finger, then another, pumping them fast and furious while he sucked her clit like a man possessed. She came, hard, her pussy muscles contracting on his fingers, flooding his mouth with her cum. She bit her lip to keep from screaming out loud from the intensity of her orgasm, and she opened her eyes to see him looking at her like the cat that got into the cream.

He wasted no time unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down, showing her what she had first felt against her just a few minutes prior. Eight inches of rock hard cock stood proudly before her, wet at the tip with his pre-cum. She thought that he would want her to reciprocate the oral sex, but instead, he pressed her down onto the bench, ripped her panties off of her, and plunged inside her hard, slamming in right to the hilt. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and a gurgled cry came out of her throat as he slammed his thick meat into her over and over. She held onto his shoulders as he rode her, fast and hard, her first orgasm quickly fading into the most intense orgasm of her life. She just kept cumming and cumming, her body writhing under his, her nails digging into his shoulders as he whispered erotically into her ears.

“Mmmm, you wanton little lass; you want me to fuck you, don’t Ankara Travesti you? You wanted me to from the moment we met, didn’t you? Mmmm, oh yes, I knew you were mine from the moment I saw you, I knew your pretty little pussy would be mine, mmm, oh yes.” His voice grew a bit strained, and he pressed his lips to her neck, biting slightly, as he fucked her impossibly faster.

She grasped his shoulders, her voice cracking as she cried out, “Oh Yes!” and he came inside her, rocketing her into another orgasm that drained her completely. He lay on top of her for a moment, and then slid out of her, his still stiff cock dripping hers and his cum.

He looked at her for a moment, then said in a commanding tone, “Lick me clean, woman.” She sat up slowly, her mind still reeling, her pussy still pulsing and oozing cum down her legs. She opened her mouth and lapped at his still stiff member, shivering at the taste of herself mixed with his cum. She sucked him into her mouth, moaning a little, until she had cleaned him of every drop. He smiled at her, a dirty smile that made her tremble. She felt some more of their mixed cum dribble down her legs. She started to wipe at it with her fingers, but he stopped her hand with his own.

“No, my lil lass, you will leave that as it is. I want you to remember this for the rest of this evening, wearing a bit of me on you, knowing what you did out here with me,” he said with a note of command in his voice. She stared at him as he picked up her ruined panties, fondling them with his fingers, a smug smile on his face. “Oh, and I think I will be keeping these as well, as a memento of this sweet interlude,” he said, latent desire stirring in his eyes. She felt violated, and thrilled, and confused all at once, her body slowly waking up from the pleasure it had just received.

She straightened her skirt, and slowly stood up, feeling cool cum pearling down her thighs. She said shakily, “I guess this is goodbye, then,” her knees still slightly shaky.

He moved closer, and kissed her deeply, possessively, as if they were old lovers. “No, my sweet, this is hardly the end,” he said, staring into her eyes, as if seeking something there, and finding it. “I will be taking you home from this little party, and we shall certainly continue with our little intrigue there. This game is not yet played out, my lil saucy lass. I haven’t yet begun to violate your sweet soft flesh.” With that, he smirked at her, and walked away, pocketing her underwear, whistling softly.

She stood there for a moment, trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened. She NEVER just fucked someone, especially someone that she had literally just met. The whole experience was surreal, and so erotic, that it kept her blood pumping just a bit faster than normal. She could feel their cum drying on her legs, and it made her feel just a bit dirty. She found that she liked that feeling, that idea that she had just done something that she should not have, and that no one would necessarily know, even with the fluids drying on her. She picked up the forgotten wine glass, and walked unsteadily back towards the hall, a small smile playing about her puffy, well kissed lips.

The Delights of Decadence

She looked about the hall, seeing everyone else but him. Her heart sank a bit, but she walked about, mingling a little, until she decided that he was just playing with her. Now that he had had her, the hunt was over, the trophy claimed. Disappointment soured her elation, and she made her goodbyes, and walked out the front door.

She made it as far as the doorman, who was preparing to wave a taxi up, when she felt him press up behind her. “I told you I was taking you home, my sweet,” his deep voice rumbled in her ear.

Her pulse raced up to breakneck speed, and she breathed out, “You’re here.” He chuckled, the sounds traveling down her body in a sensual wave. He nodded to the doorman, who motioned the valet driving his car up.

He opened the door for her, and she slid inside the cool interior, wondering if this was exactly wise. He excited her to no end, but she had just met him; prudence suggested that she get out and get her own ride home, but the thought left her mind when he got into the other side. He smiled at her, that wicked grin that made her think of candles and satin sheets, and put the car into gear, driving them into the city streets.

They talked on the way to his place, chatting about music, art, politics, and other get-to-know-you topics. He had a quick mind and ready wit, and she found herself laughing and relaxing around him as if she had known him for much longer than a few hours. In the back of her mind, though, she was wary of relaxing too much. He seemed to pick up on that, and looked at her sideways, a serious bend to his lips.

“You seem to be a bit cautious of me; I don’t blame you. After all, I’m a stranger to you, a man who’s just fucked you in a garden during a work party. I do assure you, however, that if you want me to İstanbul Travesti take you home, I will. I will not force you into something you don’t want.” She looked down at her purse in her hands, her mind racing. He continued, “But I may not be inclined to pursue this, if that happens.” She looked up, considering her options. Again, prudence said to leave, go home, but she was tired of playing it safe. She couldn’t sense malice from him, only control, lust and desire.

She looked out the windshield, took a cleansing breath, and said, “I am not interested in stopping this evening before it’s even truly begun.” She glanced over at him, a shy smile on her face. He smiled back, a genuine warm smile, and nodded.

As they drove through the light traffic, he placed a hand on her knee, sliding up her skirt to expose most of her thigh. He stroked her thigh, his strong hands kneading her soft flesh, and she leaned back, spreading her legs a bit. He gave a low laugh, and boldly slipped a finger into her exposed sex. She melted into the seat, her knees falling open, as he slipped another finger in, lightly pumping them in and out.

“You like me touching you, don’t you,” he purred, moving them a bit faster. When she failed to answer him, he pulled them out and smacked her lips, making her jump a bit. “I said, you like me touching you, don’t you,” he repeated, smacking her labia again sharply.

“Y-yes,” she stammered, her pussy lips throbbing, her head thrown back against the headrest.

“That’s better, my dear,” he said, sliding his fingers back into her wetness. He teased her, pinching and pulling on her lips and clit, all the while keeping his eyes firmly on the road. She moaned and clutched at her seat, her desire soaking into the skirt of her dress. He abruptly stopped, and put his fingers to her mouth. “Clean them,” he ordered, and she opened her mouth, licking and sucking her juices off of his fingers.

They pulled into the driveway of a large house, the windows dark and almost ominous. He stopped the car, got out, and while she straightened out her damp skirt, he came around and opened her door for her. She was touched by his almost old fashioned manners; his courtesy made her feel a bit more at ease. He took her arm in his, and led her up to the dark portal of his home. Unlocking the door, he ushered her in before him, and closed the door, causing them to be blanketed in utter darkness. She felt a thrill of fear wash over her, and she immediately questioned her actions. Then, the light came on, and she found that she was in a short foyer, with rooms opening on either side of the doorway, and an elegant staircase leading to the upper level in front of her.

“This way,” he said, leading her up the stairs, his hand under her elbow. It was simply, but tastefully, decorated, but she only had eyes for her new lover. He moved with an easy grace, his shoulders filling out his suit jacket snugly. His thick black hair was highlighted with a silver lock, just over his right brow, and it seemed to enhance the aura of mystery he had about him. He led her down the hall, past a couple of doors, and opened a third one. He flicked on a light switch, and she looked around at the bedroom just illuminated.

A heavy four-poster bed dominated the room, flanked by side tables with subtle lamps on them. A door opened to a master bath, and other bedroom furniture was placed here and there in the room. He shut the door behind them, and walked around her, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it carelessly onto the back of a chair. She stood still, unsure of just what she should do now. He sat, pulled off his shoes, and loosened his tie. “Come here,” he said, leaning back, looking every inch the lord and master of his domain. She set her purse down, and walked towards him, stopping just in front of him, her lower lip between her teeth.

“Take off your dress,” he ordered, his voice deepening a bit. She hesitated only slightly, and then unzipped the back, letting the soft fabric slide off her body. She hadn’t worn a bra, hadn’t needed to, and as he already had her underwear, she stood totally naked in front him, with only her heels on. He nodded in approval, getting up and walking around her. He went over to a dresser, and pulled a strip of black satin out of a drawer. He walked up behind her, his feet silent on the soft carpet, and said in a low voice, “Do you trust me?” There was the tone of command, but underneath there was a touch of vulnerability, as if he expected a rejection.

She stood trembling, and said, “Yes, I do.” With that, he came up behind her, and lifted the strip of satin over her head, lowering it over her eyes. He tied it firmly, settling it over her eyes carefully.

Tanya could feel him breathing behind her, his body heat almost scorching her with its intensity. He moved away, and she couldn’t hear or feel him anymore; all she could sense was his presence in the room itself. She felt a breath on her neck, hot and wet, and a jolt shot through her body. He moved away again, and she waited, trembling slightly. A hand ran over her belly, moving up between her breasts. Then, she felt his tongue on her nipple, licking it briefly, and then gone. She never knew when or where he was going to touch her, and her excitement mounted.

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The Ride

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It was a fairly typical late spring day, being sunny, cool, with a slight breeze, but otherwise refreshing and rejuvenating. The weatherman had predicted the usual scattered showers throughout the day, but so far there were only a few fluffy clouds as far as John could see. “Perfect,” he thought. “This is exactly what I need.”

It had been a bitch of a week. Between his boss getting in his face all week about trivial crap and his wife, Joanne, climbing all over his back, screeching like a banshee, John desperately needed to clear his head and get away for a while. For the past five years his marriage had been disintegrating and John knew it was over. They had little respect and no love between them anymore. His children, as usual, regarded him with little respect, following the lead of their mother, preferring to believe the lies she fed them rather than seeking the truth behind their parents’ marriage. So, following the lead of their mother, they too treated John without affection or respect. In the end, he gave up trying. The kids were nearly grown, his son having just graduated from high school, and his daughter a year behind. So, with nothing and no one at home needing or requiring anything from him, John decided to take his H-D Road King out for a long ride. Spending a day on his motorcycle always rejuvenated him both physically and mentally. He quickly put on his riding gear, leather chaps and jacket, riding boots, gloves, glasses, and hat. Minnesota law does not require the mandatory wearing of helmets, and today John preferred to feel the full effect of the wind against his face. From the first roar when he fired up his bike, John felt somehow the day was going to be a good one.

With no particular itinerary or destination in mind, John took the roads that would take him east into the countryside. For an hour or so, John just rode, not thinking, just feeling. Feeling the wind rush past his ears, he began to feel more relaxed than he had felt in weeks. He started to let his mind mull over some serious questions he had been ignoring for a while. At 49 years of age, and at this point in his life, he felt it was time to start making some hard decisions. He knew his marriage was over. Being 6 feet, 225 pounds, with long blond hair, goatee and mustache, and bright blue eyes, he felt he still had something vital to contribute to a good relationship. His sexual drive had always been very high, but even at the beginning of this 20 year marriage he had had very little satisfaction. Joanne was a petite brunette with dark brown eyes, yet a full, lush body. That was what attracted John in the beginning…opposites attract he felt. Minnesota was the land of the Nordic, and Joanne’s difference from the horde of blue-eyed blonds was like honey to a bear. However, once the “honeymoon” was over, John was dismayed by the lack of true warmth and affection he received. Sex quickly diminished to once a week, then maybe once every other week, and now, at this point, non-existent. John wasn’t sure if Joanne had found someone else or not, but sadly enough, he didn’t care. It was almost pathetic how little he felt toward her anymore.

He had tried to be faithful, but after a quite a few years of declining affection and rejection of his love and advances, his desires were driven elsewhere. Everywhere John went, people noticed. He was a big man, commanding attention just by being in the same room with you, and naturally, the women who came in contact with him all felt the same animal magnetism coming from within him. Many women made offers, and some were accepted. John was reflecting on those encounters now as he drove higher and higher into the countryside. There were some very pleasant interludes; even a few that had lasted for a short while, but none was as satisfying as he had hoped.

After a while the clouds started rolling in around John. He was totally unaware of them. Being so deep into his thoughts, it was the first splash of rain on his face that “woke” him up. Inwardly he groaned, knowing he had a long, wet, miserable ride before he made it back home again. He kicked himself mentally for not paying closer attention to the weather around him. Almost before he could make any further decision, the heavens opened up and he was drenched in a deluge of water. It was too late to try to outrun the storm, and, looking ahead or behind, John realized there was little to offer any degree of protection from the elements. He drove on in hopes of encountering a gas station to wait in while he waited for a break in the storm.

He rode a little further when he noticed a light shining through the rain-darkened area. Deciding to pull over and wait there, John didn’t notice the big pot-hole in the road that had already filled up with water. His bike hit it full-on, sending John head first over his handlebars, fortunately landing in a soft pile of pine needles. The wind was knocked out of him, however, and he lain there for a while. A few moments Antalya Travesti later, after regaining his senses, John raised himself up on one elbow, and that’s when he saw her standing above him.

He hadn’t heard her leave the house or approach him, but there she was. At first he thought he was seeing an angel, so lovely a vision was she. His “angel” stood about 5 feet 4 inches, quite a bit shorter than he, but when she offered a hand to help him stand, he felt a strength in her grip and was immediately impressed by it. He stood up and brushed himself off, never taking his eyes off her. She offered the shelter of the large umbrella she had brought with her. He took it and covered the both of them. They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, and then she broke the silence.

“Would you like to pick up your bike before someone comes along and runs over it?” she asked in a low, almost sultry voice.

Startled into action, John nodded. Handing the umbrella back to her, he strode over to the bike, set it upright, and wheeled it back over to where she stood. Wordlessly, she started walking towards her house. He hadn’t remembered seeing any actual physical structure, just some light. But ahead about a hundred feet, was a small cabin-like house, almost hidden behind a row of evergreens. That must have been the light he saw a few moments ago. The woman pointed to the car-port where he could park his bike. There was only a late-model Jeep parked in the two-car car-port, so he put his bike on the opposite side.

From there she led him into the house through a side door. Immediately John was struck by the simplicity and “at-home” atmosphere he saw and felt. The room he entered was the kitchen. It had honey-golden oak cabinets that were polished and shiny. The appliances were fairly new and the kitchen had obviously been modernized in recent years, yet it still bespoke the love and care of its owner, saying “this is my home” to anyone who entered. The air smelled fresh and clean with a hint of cinnamon. Finally, after absorbing all this, his attention returned to his rescuer. John finally found his voice and introduced himself.

“Hi, I’m John. I can’t tell you how thankful I am that you found me when you did.”

The woman smiled back, and extended her hand. “I’m Kelly. Welcome to my home,” she replied.

As she turned to take off her rain poncho, John was able to get a better look at her. She was beautiful, but the way she moved and talked and acted, it was as if she was totally unaware of it. When she turned back around after hanging her poncho on a hook, she looked expectantly at him. John stood there tongue-tied and shy suddenly.

“Could I take your jacket for you? Or do you prefer to stand there dripping all over my floor?” Kelly asked.

John couldn’t take his eyes off her, as he proceeded to shed his drenched jacket. Her hair was a mass of curls, worn just slightly above her shoulders, medium brown in color with streaks of blond everywhere. Her eyes were a gray-blue color that shone with a mischievous twinkle. But her lips, full and sensual, were what caught his eye. She wore minimal makeup, which he thought was a wonderful change from the usual. She wore eyeliner and mascara, enough to bring out the sexiness in her eyes, and she wore a frosted pink lipstick making them seem like they were inviting a kiss.

Kelly took his jacket and hung it next to her poncho on the coat rack.

“Let’s get you out of these wet things, then we’ll see if you need any first-aid or not.” John stood there, unable to say anything in response.

Kelly waited a moment, then said again, “Your chaps, John, then we’ll work on anything else after that.”

He was still uncomprehending, so Kelly took the initiative and unfastened the buckle of his chaps and started unzipping the legs. John stood there, letting her undress him, so dumbstruck was he.

“Get a grip, John,” he said to himself. He let her guide him over to a kitchen chair where she grabbed his foot, straddled his leg placing herself with her back-end facing him, and started to tug at his boot. John was enjoying the view of her nicely rounded ass, perfectly framed through her blue jeans. When tugging on the boots didn’t work from that direction, she tried pulling from the opposite direction. Suddenly, his boot slid off his foot with great ease and she landed on her bottom with a rather indelicate plop. John adored the surprised expression on her face and got up to help her back to her feet. They stood there momentarily, eyes locked on each other. John let his eyes slide down to her lips again.

“If you’re not careful, Kelly, I just may have to kiss you,” John whispered. Kelly closed her eyes and swayed even closer to him. Of its own volition, John’s arm went around her waist and pulled her close. With his other hand, he lifted her chin. Her eyes fluttered open an instant before his lips captured hers. Their tongues met Konya Travesti and Kelly moaned deep in her throat. Deeper and deeper John probed Kelly’s mouth. Their tongues danced in a hot sensual rhythm, sparring with each other, melding together as if they were long-time lovers. Once, Kelly nipped his lower lip playfully, igniting a strong urge inside John. The kiss seemed to go on forever. Kelly felt a growing burn in her belly. A long-dormant need flared up and screamed for release, so affected was she by John’s kiss. Her arms willingly wrapped around his neck, pulling him down and even closer, if that was possible. Her body felt on fire and she desperately needed John to quench her thirst. She felt his arousal pressing against her belly between them, telling her of his own urgent need.

Kelly was the first to pull away, breaking the spell between them. Immediately, John missed the heat of her body next to his.

“We’d better remove the rest of your wet clothes or you’ll catch pneumonia. I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting company so I haven’t lit the wood stove yet. If you’ll remove your pants and shirt, I can throw them in the dryer for you. I’ll be right back with a towel for you.”

With that said, Kelly disappeared down the hallway. John realized just how very soaked his clothes were and started to unfasten his jeans and remove his shirt. He was down to his very soaked briefs by the time Kelly returned. He knew she could see everything through the translucent material of his underwear, and also just how enormously aroused he was. Kelly stood at the entrance to the kitchen, staring at his rather hard, prominent member. As she started to walk towards him, a loud crack of thunder and flash of lightning broke over her house. Startling both of them, John flinched and Kelly dropped the big fluffy towel she had brought. When she bent over to retrieve it, John took the last few steps to close the distance between them. When she straightened up again, she could not resist looking again at his very large, unmistakably hard cock. Kelly brought the towel up and started to brush it against his skin. She started at the neck and shoulders, then worked her way down to his chest. By this time, she decided to abandon the pretense of drying him and looked down at his cock. She hesitatingly felt it through the wet material with her small hand. It felt huge and Kelly knew she wanted more.

Licking her suddenly dry lips, Kelly managed to speak. “I want you to know I don’t normally rescue handsome strangers off the street and then seduce them in my home.” She smiled weakly at her joke.

John chuckled and in his deep voice he replied. “That’s okay. I don’t normally wipe out on the front lawn of a beautiful woman in hopes that she will invite me in and ravish my body.”

With that, the tension was broke, and John peeled off the remaining wet clothes and wrapped the towel around his waist.

“Would you like something to drink to take the chill off?” she asked.

“That would be a great idea,” John answered. “Anything you have will be just fine.”

Kelly produced a full-bodied Merlot wine that she had been saving for a special occasion. She poured a glass for John and a generous portion for herself as well. She led him into the den and had him sit on the huge, overstuffed sofa. Across the room was the old-fashioned wood-burning stove she had referred to earlier. She went over there and added some kindling to the already loaded chamber, and lit a cozy fire. It wasn’t long before the entire house was warm and comfortable.

Kelly sat down on the couch, Indian-style, facing John. He turned towards her and started to grin. There didn’t seem to be anything about this little nymph that he didn’t find adorable. His eyes feasted on her while she began to talk to him. He took in her natural grace and the artful way she had of talking with her hands. Of course, having the curves of a Rubenesque era model didn’t hurt at all. Having been an admirer of full-figured women most of his life, John was thrilled that he stumbled upon this exquisite prize. He loved a woman who looked womanly, with wide hips and a bosom he could bury himself in. She was wearing a simple V-neck, long-sleeved sweater that was obviously an old favorite. It looked to be about 2 sizes too big, perhaps belonging to a man at one point. With this she wore a pair of snug-fitting blue jeans and fuzzy socks. But in spite of her casualness, Kelly may as well have been dressed in an elegant evening gown, that’s how lovely she appeared to John.

The couple drank their wine and chatted about anything and everything. Kelly had an amazing range of interests, which intrigued and pleased John. Whenever Kelly leaned forward to emphasize a point she was making, the neckline sunk lower and lower, revealing her fantastic cleavage that made him drool. She had to have at least a 44D bust-line. They talked about spouses, or rather soon-to-be ex-spouses. Kelly had İzmir Travesti only wanted the house. It had belonged to a favorite great-aunt of hers, and as such had many happy memories here while growing up. It had been willed to her the previous year when her great-aunt had passed away. In exchange for this, she gave up any claims to her ex’s estate. She thought it was well worth it just to be free of him. The divorce would be final in three more weeks. It was such an easy-going conversation. They both felt they could talk about anything and everything and never get bored.

The couple talked for quite a while before Kelly realized that John had to be cold, sitting there in nothing but a damp towel. “Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry John! What a poor hostess I am. Come, let me get you a blanket to wrap around you.”

She led him into the master bedroom, where she poked around in the closet for a blanket. When she found the item she wanted, she backed out of the closet only to find herself planted once again in the middle of John’s chest. She raised her hands and pressed them to his chest to steady herself, while he took the blanket from her and wrapped them both up in it.

He then gathered her close, and slowly lowered his mouth to hers. The anticipation was killing her. She closed her eyes and savored every millisecond of the kiss. His lips landed on hers, soft and yielding. Her mouth gave way and opened up for his inquisitive tongue. She slid her arms under his and wrapped them around his back, holding him close, pressing her breasts firmly against his hard chest. John took the initiative this time, and led her over to the king-sized bed, and pushed her into a sitting position on it. He knelt down, removed her socks, then slowly started to peel off her sweater. Not wanting to rush things, John stood her up so he could remove her jeans next. Once having accomplished that, he stepped back to admire his “work of art.” Kelly stood there, shy and proud all at once, in nothing but her black lacy bra with matching bikini panties. Seeing the appreciative look on John’s face, Kelly said: “Hey, I like to pamper myself, what can I say?” John laughed.

John replied, “I’ll give you no argument on that point. You look like an angel in the devil’s lair and I could eat you right up.”

John went to her again, this time turning her around and unfastening her bra. When all the hooks were released, he reached around and slowly eased his hands up under the filmy material, and released her breasts from the bra, into his hands. They seemed to swell under his touch, the nipples hardening to tight buds immediately in anticipation. He rolled both nubs between his fingers, lightly pinching and teasing them, causing Kelly to groan and arch her back against him. Next he slid his thumbs inside the material of her panties and slid them down her legs. Standing in front of him, as naked as he was now, Kelly felt totally turned-on and craved his body as much as he did hers.

Taking the step that closed the gap between them, Kelly kissed his lips, then slowly sank to her knees, leaving a trail of kisses down his belly. She grasped his very hard cock and stroked it ever so lightly, flicking just the tip of it with her tongue. She noticed the pre-cum starting to leak out and greedily lapped it up. Sliding her tongue all around the head of his cock, she noticed something different about John. She let her other hand reach under and grasp his balls, and that’s when she figured it out. John was completely hairless! He had shaved his balls and cock area completely. Kelly was enthralled with it and could hardly contain her hands, lips, teeth, and tongue. She wanted to explore every centimeter of his cock and balls. This was a new experience for her and she intended to exploit all of it.

Nudging him in the direction of the bed, John sprawled out in the center on his back and Kelly positioned herself once more between his legs. She had him bend his knees so he could spread them further, giving her better access to her playground. She let her tongue do the walking, and eventually, while stroking his very hard cock with one hand, her tongue found his little butt hole and started to lick. John gasped and jumped a little. Emboldened by his reaction, Kelly prodded some more with her tongue. He was moaning with his pleasure. His hand took over stroking his hard cock, and Kelly was able to spread his ass cheeks better and plunged her tongue deep into his ass. John screamed out in pleasure and increased his pumping. The more Kelly licked and probed, the faster he moaned and stroked.

Next, Kelly inserted her fingertip in his ass and wiggled it a bit. She wanted to be very careful since she did have long fingernails and didn’t want to scratch or tear the delicate skin there. As she fingered his butt, Kelly brought her tongue back up and started to slather his balls with her saliva. She sucked in one ball and thoroughly slathered it with her tongue, then switched to the other ball, repeating the act once more. Kelly looked up at John and caught his eye just as his balls tensed before shooting his hot load of cum. She moved quickly, trying to capture the jism in her mouth, but most of it landed all over her face and neck.

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The Satin Dress

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Vanessa ran a brush through her long, amber hair, and eyed herself in the mirror. Green eyes stared back at her.

‘What do you think?’ She asked them, silently, ‘should I bother going to Hasita’s party tonight?’

Her mirror eyes looked back at her.

Hasita had been planning this party for weeks, as a celebration of the end of their junior year in college. Hasita was her best friend, but Vanessa wasn’t really much of a partier. Most nights, she would rather curl up on her couch and watch Gilmore Girl reruns. It was a little sad, when she thought about it.

‘I had better go.’

She got up from her vanity desk and walked over to her messy closet. She lived on campus. She had been lucky to get a single room, seeing as she was very unorganized most of the time, there were always clothes littering the floor and the counter in the bathroom was covered with her various lotions and make-up.

She surveyed her closet for something appropriate to wear. What would be good for a party like this? She picked out a cotton sundress. She stared at herself as she held it up and glanced into the mirror. She inspected herself for the thousandth time. She wasn’t ugly, not in the least, but she did have certain insecurities. Like the way her bottom curved out from her body, and the freckles that traced her chest and trailed down onto her cleavage. She was average height, and curvy. She had a small birthmark on the nape of her neck.

She sighed and replaced the dress back into the closet. Then, she saw the white silk dress that her mother had given her as a going-away-to-college present. She loved this dress, but she had never had a chance to wear it. What was a better time than now?

She undressed herself, and donned the lovely dress. Silk had always been her favorite fabric, and she loved how smooth it felt against her skin. Turning back to the mirror, she frowned. The dress was so shear and white that you could see her black bra right through it.

‘Ah, what the hell?’ she thought, and slipped it off, quickly replacing the straps back on her shoulders. She felt a rush of naughtiness at the prospect of going to out without a bra. Her breasts were big, round and full, with nipples that hardened quickly. Looking at herself in the mirror, she could see a faint outline of them now.

She ran the brush through her hair last time, and hastily put it in a ponytail.

Before she had time to talk herself out of it, she was out the door, and walking to Hasita’s party, an apartment complex a few blocks away. She walked briskly, not because it was cold out— it was the beginning of summer— but because she loved the way the dress swished against her bare skin and the way her breasted bounced.

When she got there, she was greeted at the door by none other than the host herself.

Hasita was one of the most beautiful women Vanessa had ever seen, with parents who were both born in East India. She had a sultry and exotic beauty that no American girl could ever pull off, no matter how hard they tried. She was small and petite, with a face like a little girl, a person wouldn’t know from looking at her that she was a force to be reckoned with. Vanessa had seen her pick arguments with full-grown, muscled men, and come off on the winning side.

“You’re here!” she squealed, hugging me, “come in, come in!” She pulled Vanessa by the arm and led her into a room filled with people and noise. It was a typical college apartment, and you could tell. The couch looked old and comfortable, there was a bookshelf made of cinderblocks in a corner, filled with thick textbooks. There were college students milling around, drinking, talking, laughing, some guys were in the corner making, what looked to Vanessa like, a recreation of the Eifel Tower out of toothpicks. The living room and the kitchen were only separated by a counter, with three bar stools (all occupied), and two hallways branching out from the main room, one to the bathroom, one to Hasita’s bedroom. Hasita continued talking. “Oh my gosh! I love your dress! You always look super cute. Hey, I’ll go get you a beer. Why don’t you mingle with some people?” she was obviously excited to have gotten Vanessa out of the house for once.

Vanessa wondered over to the Bağdat Caddesi Travesti couch and sat down, looking around at the people, and listening into a few conversations, but keeping quiet.

“Jesus. I can’t believe he would do that to her. What an asshole.”

“Yeah, man, I studied forever! I got a 93%.”

“No, I’m not talking about that; I’m talking about the other one.”

“Nah, dude, hold the toothpick still, and I’ll put the glue on it.”

Then Vanessa saw him. He was standing quietly in the corner, drinking something out of a plastic cup, not talking to anyone. He was majestic. He wore ripped jeans and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt, and had some major bed-head. He sported horn-rimmed glasses, perched casually on the bridge of his nose. He stood silently, looking at everyone in the room, except for her.

“Hey, honey, I got your beer!” It was Hasita, holding an unopened can, dripping with condensation. Vanessa took it, and she sat down next to me on the couch.

“Hey, Has, who’s that guy, over there?” Vanessa pointed at him.

“Oh, him,” she said, her eyes following the direction of my finger, “I don’t know his name. Riley brought him, I think,” she gestured over to one of the guys occupying the couch, “sexy, huh?”

“Oh yeah….” she said, only half paying attention to what she was saying.

Hasita became engrossed in another conversation, but Vanessa kept looking at the mystery guy. Suddenly, his head turned, and he looked right at her. Lightning bolts sent themselves zooming down her spine, and she shivered, then…. The moment was over. He looked away.

She got up, and wandered into the kitchen, where there was a game of beer pong going on. She sat on the countertop and watched as people drank themselves sick, she herself sipping on her beer. She forgot about the strange man.

After a while, she began to feel a little dizzy, she wasn’t really a big alcohol drinker, and she didn’t have a very high tolerance. The lights in the kitchen were beginning to feel very bright. She set down her beer and walked into Hasita’s boudoir, which was mercifully empty and dimly lit.

She dug in her purse for a couple of aspirin, and lay down on the bed, her dress fanning out around her, waiting for her headache to subside. Hasita’s pillows were so comfortable, and her bed was very soft. Vanessa decided to close her eyes for just a moment….

A creak of the door made her eyes snap open.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” purred a sultry voice.

She threw herself up onto her elbows and stared around wildly. Her eyes alighted on a tall figure in the doorway, light and party sounds coming through the half-open doorway. It was the guy in the ripped jeans.

“Hi,” was all Vanessa could manage.

“I don’t mean to be too forward, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off you out there, you are so incredibly gorgeous, I’m Bret, by the way,” he said. He slowly walked over to the edge of the bed, and sat down. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m Vanessa, and I think so, I… I just got a little tipsy,” she replied.

Bret chuckled quietly. “Well,” he breathed, are you feeling better after your nap?”

“Um, yes,” it was true, her headache was gone.

“Why don’t I escort you back to the party, then? Maybe we can get to know each other.” He offered her his hand, and helped her off the bed. Right, as she was getting up, though, she stumbled over a shirt thrown carelessly onto the floor, and he grabbed her shoulders to steady her. She was close enough to smell him, he smelled like autumn rain.

He didn’t let go of her shoulders.

She looked up at him, letting her eyes rove over his slightly crooked nose, and his impressive cheekbones. On impulse, she stood up on her toes and kissed him quickly on the lips.

His mouth curved into a smile, and he leaned down and kissed her again. He tasted like apples and smoke, and she couldn’t get enough of it. Their tongues danced in each other’s mouths, and his hands left her shoulders, and travelled in opposite directions, one went up, into her hair, one went down, sliding slowly over the contours of her waist until it came to rest on her hip. She pulled back, and grinned mischievously.

“Want to go back Bostancı travesti to my place?” she asked, slyly.

He looked a little surprised. “Yes. Of course.”

She took his hand and they walked out of the bedroom, and through the living room.

“Are you leaving already?” Hasita slurred, slightly drunkenly.

“Yeah, I’m a little tired,” said Vanessa.

“Okay, seeya later, baby!” yelled Hasita, seemingly unaware that Vanessa was holding hands with Bret.

They walked all the way back to her apartment, holding hands, and chatting amiably. Vanessa learned that Bret was majoring in literature, and planned to become an eighth-grade English teacher, when he got out of college.

“Here we are,” Vanessa said, when they reached her front door. She nervously bit her lip. She had never brought a boy back to her place. She wasn’t a virgin, but they had always ended up going to his house, for one reason or another. She hadn’t even thought to tidy up a bit. “It’s a little messy.”

She unlocked the door, and they walked inside.

“Nice place,” he smiled at her, as she kicked a few stray items of clothing into the closet.

He shut the door behind him, and walked over to her, taking her in his arms. “Listen, I know we just met, so if anything I do feels uncomfortable to you, just tell me, alright?”

She nodded, but inwardly doubted that he could do anything that she would disapprove of.

He put his arms around her waist and started kissing her again. Vanessa thought that even if they just did that all night, she would be perfectly satisfied. His tongue flicked hers playfully, and she sighed in happiness.

Slowly, his hands started inching upwards towards her breasts, which now stood fully prominent, very noticeable, even through her dress. He nipped and tweaked them gently through her satin dress, as he kissed her. He squeezed and cupped her breasts, and drew small circles around her nipples with his fingertip. This was starting to drive Vanessa crazy. She threw caution to the winds, and snaked her hands up, under his shirt, feeling his stomach and chest. She let her hands wander over his collarbone and nipples. His skin felt warm and slightly muscular to her touch. He stopped kissing her for a moment. He reached behind her head and pulled out her ponytail, carefully brushing the away the kinks from the rubber band with his fingers.

She lifted the bottom of his shirt, and pulled it up over his head, exposing his torso and upper body. Seized by a sudden, unexpected lust, she tugged on his hand, and had him sit on the bed in front of her. She slowly walked a few steps away from him, and started taking off her dress, making sure he was watching her. She started to unzip her dress, meticulously taking her time; she could see the hunger in Bret’s eyes, as he licked his lips. She glanced down at his crotch and saw him starting to tent. Soon, the entire zipper was down, and she started to pull down the straps. Once the dress had uncovered her breasts, she teasingly covered them with her arm. She could feel her pussy starting to get damp inside her black underwear.

Bret got up off the bed and took a piece of the dress in his hands, pulling it down over her hips, until it fell onto the floor in a pile. Since she had not worn a bra, Vanessa was then wearing nothing but her panties. He ran his hands down over her breasts, and across the flat plain of her stomach.

“I want you so badly,” her murmured into her ear.

“Me to,” she whispered back.

His hands made their way down her stomach and across her hips, making their way to the treasure down below. She gasped in anticipation, as he started rubbing a spot, just above her opening. She was so damp down there, that she thought there must be a wet spot in her panties. His hand travelled further down and started lightly stroked her clit. She moaned slightly.

Taking that as a further incentive, he moved his hand to her wet hole, and entered her with one finger. She started breathing heavily, and wrapped her fingers in his hair. He continued pushing his finger deeper and deeper into her pussy, and she twisted and squirmed slightly.

“Faster,” she muttered.

He penetrated her with another finger Kartal travesti and started thrusting harder and harder into her, curling his fingers, and stroking her walls from the inside. She moaned. She felt her vaginal walls contract, and she started shaking, as her climax radiated through her body, dribbling juices all over his hand. He removed his fingers from her. She grabbed his hand, and sucked on his fingers, looking him in the eye as she did so, but he wasn’t ready to stop pleasing her just yet.

“Lean against the wall for me,” he ordered.

She quickly did as she was told.

He kneeled and took one of her softly shaven legs, hooking over his shoulder, in perfect position to get an eye-full of her damp pussy. He pressed his tongue against her hard clit, feeling her shutter as he moved his tongue around. He swirled his tongue around it, then sucked it, alternating. Then, he licked his way down to her opening; where he roughly shoved his tongue in, enjoying hearing Vanessa yell in surprise and excitement. He started to get even harder as Vanessa reached down and started fingering herself, as he was eating her.

“Oh yes, Bret! Yes! Oh…. Oh…. Oh…” she could barely control what she was saying. She was beginning to feel shudders of her second orgasm of the night, deep in her hips. She grabbed Bret’s head, and shoved her hips into his face, moaning, as she shivered again and again.

She pulled him to his feet, as she knelt down, in the same position he was just in, and grasped his belt in her hands, and quickly undid it, letting loose his large erection. She rolled down his pants and boxers. It was thick and purple, and completely parallel with the floor. She took his member in her hand looked up at him, his eyes were already closed in expectation for what was about to come. She started licking up and down his shaft, holding onto it at the base. Then, she put her entire mouth around it, and started lightly sucking on the tip. He reached down, and entangled his fingers in her hair, moving his penis into her mouth slightly farther. She moved her head up and down his shaft, flicking her tongue around the tip. He sighed in pleasure. It was taking all of his self-control not to rip into her right then. She reached her other hand up and cupped his balls in her soft palm.

“Vanessa….. I ….. Can’t take much more…..” he gasped in ecstasy.

She didn’t stop; she kept taking more and more of his rock-hard dick into her mouth. He moaned an almost feral sigh, and thrust his hips to match her mouth. Bret fought to keep control of his senses, but it was almost too much.

He pulled her sharply up and pushed her easily onto her back on the bed. He maneuvered himself on top of her. He eased only the first half of his penis into her, trying not to hurt her. Vanessa laid her head back against the pillows and groaned in delight. He moved in and out of her a few times, then unexpectedly rammed his entire shaft into her, eliciting a scream from Vanessa, who forced her own hips up to meet his, trying to get as much of his member inside her as possible.

“Oh…. Bret…. Bret…. More…. Harder…” was all Vanessa could manage.

He sucked on her neck, as he furiously pounded her pussy with his cock. His teeth bit down, as he shoved into Vanessa as far as he could go, desperately trying to hold in the orgasm that was starting to shake through him.

“FUCK ME HARDER, BRET!” Vanessa screamed. “I NEED MORE!”

Bret flipped over, so that she was on top, and carefully lifted her, slamming her back onto his cock, the thrusts got faster and faster, and Bret’s hand moved to finger Vanessa’s clit, as she rode his dick.

Vanessa’s body started to twist and writhe again, and she screamed as she begins to cum again for the third time, this time more powerful than anything of the night. Her vaginal walls spasmed with the force, as the orgasm raged through her body. She twisted and whimpered, her fingernails scratching his chest. The sight and feeling was so impassioned, that Bret couldn’t help but cum as well, and they orgasmed together, in a cloud of lustful rapture.

Vanessa collapsed next to Bret, panting. Both bodies were covered in sweat. She turned and looked at him, and closed her eyes, feeling contented and satisfied.

************** ******************* ****************

Bret was not there when she woke up the next morning, but there was a note taped to the door asking her to meet him for breakfast, and a phone number. Vanessa smiled, and dialed her phone.

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