Steamy-Stories

The Librarian: Part 2 About Last Night  by horn pixy. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected. Well, she thought almost bitterly as she got dressed in sweatpants and a plain black sweater that was soft and a little loose after her latest, and to date most successful, weight-loss plan. She considered shoes, but settled for her fluffy pink slippers instead. So much for her brilliant theory. She had sat there for hours and hours on the most uncomfortable stool ever, drinking glass after glass of whiskey because she didn t know what else to order and was too shy to ask. And nobody; not even one man; had shown any interest in her. The only one who talked at her at all was the hot bartender, who The bartender! Of course! That s why the man had looked familiar to her in her bathroom. His features had been blurry without her glasses, of course, but she was reasonably sure it was him. She was almost a hundred percent certain of it. The only question was; what was he doing in her apartment? It s a long story, he said when she asked him later, in her kitchen, her hair wrapped up in a towel and perched on her head. His eyes followed her movements around the kitchen as she got milk from the fridge for the coffee and put bread in the toaster. The irony of the morning-after-nothing-happened breakfast didn t escape his notice. I have time, she said carefully, closing the blinds to avoid all possible sources of light. Give me the quick version. Fine, he said with a sigh. You were drunk, I helped you home. My keys are locked in my car and I couldn t get a cab to come get me. That s it, in a nutshell. And because I know you re still wondering, I spent the night on your couch, shivering a little. Ok, shivering a lot. It was damn cold. Plus I have a crick in my neck now. She winced. I m sorry. I wish you d waken me up, I would at least have helped you with a blanket. I could have used your hairdryer to build a nuclear bomb right next to your bed and you wouldn t have woken up. You were out cold. Another wince. I m really sorry, she said. I don t know what came over me. I ve never been that drunk before. I m really not the type. I know, he said, not bothering to hide his grin. You told me last night. She chewed her bottom lip nervously. Brandon wanted to take that hot little task over for her. He imagined nibbling on those petal soft lips and cleared his throat a little. What else did I tell you? she wanted to know apprehensively. Well, you work in a library, and you can t lie even to telephone salespeople. Is that all? Not by a long shot. By the way, what does technically mean? She frowned and cocked her head in a what do you mean? way. Technically? Yes. When is something technically and when is it; I don t know, untechnically? Physically? Literally? I have absolutely no idea what you re talking about, she said and smeared a thin strip of margarine over her dry toast. He cupped his hands around the plain white cup filled to the brim with coffee and leaned forward. Tell me, he said conversationally, sadistically waiting for her to take a bite of toast. How does one remain a virgin, but only technically? She started choking as he d expected, coughing and wheezing and grabbing her coffee to help the dry bread down the right pipe. What? Apparently, if you were speaking the truth last night which drunk people seem prone to do for some reason, you are technically still a virgin, but not in a physical sense. I was just wondering how that happens. I told you that? Oh my; I m so sorry! He laughed at the red flush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. Relax, he said. Its fine. I would just love to hear that story. Because there has to be a story. Not really, she muttered, and then, as an afterthought, I m never drinking again. Wise words that has been spoken by many, many people over the years. I mean it, she insisted. I honestly can t believe I told you that. Virginity is nothing to be ashamed of, Brandon said, stroking one finger down her arm. It kind of is, when you re twenty nine. He gaped. You re twenty nine and you ve never had sex? How the hell had that happen? I don t know, it just; happened, she muttered. Or more to the point, it just never happened. There must be a reason, he prompted. There isn t one specific reason, it s more like a series of non-sexual incidents, strung together by everything from dating sites to five-minute dating games and more blind dates than I can count. I take it none of that worked for you? I met the most interesting people. Like Mike, who was seventy two at the time, and told me he had a granddaughter fantasy he wanted to play out with me. He wanted you to pretend to be his granddaughter? She shook her head. If only. I m not sure how this would have played out since I didn t stick around to find out, but I had to play the grandfather. And he was one of the better options. Brandon sat back, stunned. No way, he said disbelievingly. She nodded. I m serious. After him was a series of serial losers; men who couldn t hold on to jobs and girls and had to borrow money from one loan shark to pay off the next. The type of guys whose idea of cleaning out the trailer means letting a stray dog in to lick the stains from the floor and to put all the porn in one box. Oh, he was in deep shit, Brandon thought as he roared with laughter. She had a sense of humor. There was, to his mind, nothing sexier in a girl than a sense of humor. And after them? She frowned. I met this guy, his name is Stanley, online. We went on a few dates and it didn t go too bad, till his parole officer contacted me to let me know he was back in jail for harassing little kids at a park. She winced. It was messy. The police went through my house, looking for signs of kiddie-porn. Apparently he was part of a child-prostitution and trafficking ring. I had no idea. I got off with a warning, since there was no evidence that I was involved, and he told them that I knew nothing. I suspect they still monitor my internet history every once in a while. Helpless laughter rocked through him. No wonder she was still a virgin, if these were the kind of men she stumbled across during her search. What about high school? he asked. And college? She looked down at her hands. I wasn t exactly Miss Popular in school, she said simply. I wasn t even that shy girl that nobody talks to except when they need help with math, because I sucked at math. Still do, as a matter of fact. I didn t fit in with any of the clicks. I wasn't pretty and I wasn't clever, and I didn t have any secret talents. The only thing I was good at was reading, and I did a lot of that. But nobody makes friends in the school library, right? Especially not if the girl is chubby and have the fashion sense of a blind nun. Now that part I can help you with, he said. Why don t I go shopping with you and help you pick out a few outfits that will make the, uh, best of your figure? She looked down at herself. True, she was wearing sweatpants, but they were new and still neat. And her sweater might be a bit too big after her diet, but it was of a good material and had been expensive and it didn t lose shape in the wash. But his words made her feel downright dowdy. Do you remember what I told you last night? he asked. I barely remember you, never mind anything you told me, she said, stung. He frowned a little and gazed at her with an intent look on his face that made her wonder if he could see more than what she revealed. You expressed the wish to... how to put this delicately? find somebody to enjoy yourself with, but you were concerned that you don t have the right look and personality to attract men. I merely offered my advice to help you if you wanted an objective opinion. Oh, she said, pushing her plate away from her with one finger. Actually, what he d promised was to help her learn to fake it, but Brandon was strangely reluctant to hurt her feelings by telling her that. She was female, after all, and would immediately conclude that he thought she wasn t good enough or pretty enough, or didn t have what it takes to attract men like ants to a syrup bottle. And that was just bull. Even if he had had almost those exact same thoughts not twelve hours ago. Why are you being so nice to me? she asked after a few semi-awkward moments of silence. He shrugged. Maybe I m just a nice guy. Men are never nice unless they have an agenda. He winced. Ouch. True, but ouch. She gave him a small smile. So what s your agenda? Getting in your pants. Maybe I want library privileges. She snorted. Like what? Showing you what the reference section should really be used for. Maybe I have a fine for a book that s late. Think you can help me make it disappear? Her smile was like the sunrise. Are you trying to bribe me? He leaned forward with a grin. Maybe I am. Are you corruptible? Certainly not. I m a good girl, you know. She was trying hard to look prim and proper, and failing miserably. Her eyes; those bluer-than-the-sky eyes of hers; were filled with laughter behind her pretty glasses, despite the way she was pursing her lips and trying to look chastising. All right. So I ll have to pay the fine, then. How about this? There s a book I want to read, but it s on a waiting list. I would love to be moved to the top of the list. She pretended to think about it. That depends, she decided. What book is it? He couldn t help it, couldn t resist the invitation their flirting was issuing. The Art of Pleasuring Women, he said, wondering if she would accept the unvoiced challenge. She did, though her eyes widened slightly in scandalous provocation. Well, now, she said, clearing her throat a little. I guess I can be convinced. Wouldn t want your girlfriend to be dissatisfied by your prowess. It would be sad for the poor girl if you didn t know how to; get things done. You might even say it s my civic duty to let you have the necessary instruction. His throat was a little dry and he lifted his cup to his lips, surprised to realize there wasn t another drop. Yeah, he said. Education is important. Speaking of education, I think it s time for lesson one. Lesson one in what? He grinned. Making you irresistible. Emily twisted her hair into a clip with a practiced movement. Brandon had given her couple of hours while he got a cab to take him home and get his spare keys, promising to be back for her first lesson. She felt awkward when he left, sure it would be the last time she saw him. She knew he thought her plain and uninteresting he d basically said it himself in so many words; and he had absolutely no reason to waste his Saturday on her. She was surprised at the desolation she had felt when she stood at her window, watching his cab pull off. He was the first man in a long time to be nice to her. Not many guys would go to the trouble he d gone too to get her home safely. He d looked after her as if they were friends, and this morning he d joked with her and put her at ease, making her forget about the humiliation of her alcohol-loosened tongue of the previous evening. For goodness sake, she had told him she was still a virgin. Why on earth had she felt the need to share that with him? Now he would always remember her as that crazy girl who couldn t handle a few drinks and had no taste in clothes. He was nice, and talking to him had been very nice and seeing him again would be even nicer, but she was not na ve enough to believe he would be back. Still, she couldn t help taking extra care when she dried her hair and did her make-up. The result was less than satisfactory, to her own eyes. No matter what she did, she would be plain. Nothing could change that. She had never been pretty, nor would she ever be. And you d best make peace with it, she muttered to her slightly depressed image in the mirror. She threw open her closet and looked at the piles of clothes that had been arranged with military precision, according to color and styles. It was a bit sad, watching her cupboard. Most of what she owned was either white or beige or cream, or any variation of that. There were blacks and navy blues, and a few browns and greys. Some dowdy shades of maroon and a mourning, drab purple, but that was it. Was this really what her life had whittled down to? Her job was going nowhere, fast, she had no relationships outside her head, and her closet looked like she let her grandmother do her shopping. Why on earth had she bought that grey and brown coat hanging in the back? It was horrible. It was hideous, even if it was made of the finest wool she d ever touched. Emily pulled it off the hanger and dumped it on the bed unceremoniously. She grabbed another jacket, a few skirts she was ashamed to say she d worn more than twice. The heap on her bed piled high as she emptied her closet almost completely. She was feeling slightly frantic by the time she was done with the coats and jackets and started on slacks and trousers. Had she been blind her entire life, to wear this? What are you doing? a voice suddenly said, disturbing her. Emily dropped a faded charcoal blouse on the floor in surprise. Her sort-of friend and downstairs neighbor was staring at the bed, which was covered with clothes, with an expression of revulsion. She must have used the spare key Emily had left with her, because Emily had locked the door behind Brandon. Usually Judith knocked, but Emily hadn t heard anything. You! said Emily accusingly, bending down to pick up the shirt and holding it out in front of her. I blame you! For what? Judith asked, clearly not sure what to expect. This is partly your fault, Emily scolded, shaking and accusing finger at Judith. How could you let me wear this crap? In public? Judith stared at the bed, her mouth working a little as she processed the situation. I thought you liked it. You should have told me I look about ninety! What sort of friend are you? Em, you always look neat. I thought Neat! I looked neat. And how many guys want to have sex with neatness, I ask you? Uhm Judith cleared her throat. Clearly, not as many as you d like. Emily threw another armful of blouses; a mustardy floral, a khaki-with-frills and a navy box neck that looked like the wrong end of the fifties; on the bed. None, that s how many, she said grimly. How am I supposed to get somebody to marry if I can t even find a man to have sex with me? What s wrong with me? There is not a thing wrong with you, Judith said immediately and loyally. You just; appeal to a different demographic than the men you meet. Yeah, Emily muttered. The men at the senior citizen really enjoy chatting to me on Library Tuesday. They show up by the busloads to come see me. Judith stifled a laugh. Why are you taking all of your clothes out of your closet? Emily sank down on her bead and glanced at the pile of ugly materials and styles. I m getting rid of it, she said darkly. All of it. And I m going to buy new things. Pretty things. Color, Judith, I need color. Pink and green and yellow. Red! I don t even have a red dress. Why don t I have a hot red dress? Red s really not your color, Judith said. Or yellow, to be honest. You need to stay away from red and yellow, and definitely no orange. See? Why haven t you told me this before? Look at me, Judith, I m a mess. Judith sat down next to her. I guess you always seem so content, so at peace with your life. I used to envy you that. I m the most unstable person I know, and you just never cared what people thought about you. I had no idea you were dissatisfied. I m sorry I let you wear ugly clothes. Emily gave a small laugh and glanced at the empty hangers in the closet. There were two coats that had passed her test; a truly timeless black cashmere and a really warm, snowy white one she d bought on sale but hadn t worn yet because it would get dirty the second she ventured out of her bedroom. It s ok. It s not your fault. I should have realized I need help long before now. What brought this on? Judith asked, picking up the mustard shirt looking at it shrewdly. This would make an excellent floor rag, by the way. Emily laughed slightly. Nothing brought it on. I m just; I m tired of being part of the scenery in my own life, you know? When is it my turn to have some fun? I ve been waiting so patiently for my life to begin, and look where it s brought me. I m twenty nine, I ve never had sex, and I m too scared to venture outside this comfort zone I ve been digging for myself with serviceable clothing and comfortable shoes and not enough friends. Your shoes are really ugly, Judith said, honestly. And I promise I ll tell you from now on if you wear something that doesn t work. Emily looked at her nearly empty cupboard. Thanks, she said. I guess I ll take this stuff to the Salvation Army, if they want it. Let me help with that, Judith said. I have a car, so it ll be much easier for me. I know a great homeless shelter that needs donations desperately. I d appreciate that, Emily said. Why did you come here today? Did they drop my mail off in your box again? No, I wanted to ask about that really hot guy I saw coming out of your apartment a while ago. Was he the cable repair man or something? No, Emily said, blushing a little. He; actually, he spent the night here. On my couch, she added quickly. Nothing happened. I was so drunk he had to bring me home from the bar. Judith s eyes widened. But you never drink, she said. I did last night. Never mind that, then. Oh my word, Emily, you let a stranger sleep over at your house? And you didn t jump him? He wasn t interested in being jumped, Emily said. He s just; a nice guy I m never going to see again. Judith chewed the inside of her lip. Leave this stuff, she said, and bring your credit card. We re going to go shopping. Brandon paced the hallway outside Emily s apartment. He d been there for an hour and she still wasn't opening the door. She was either avoiding him on purpose, or incapable of answering the damn bell, or, most probably, not home. Which just plain pissed him off. Hadn t he told her he would be back? She had no business being out when he wanted to see her! He kept walking, following the generic grey carpeting with the navy pattern with his eyes. This was ridiculous. He should be at home, watching sport or having an afternoon nap. He should not be pacing around, waiting for Emily to show up. What was he, a horny teenager who mistakes lust for love? He forced himself to leave after another half hour. No girl was worth waiting for like this. It was pathetic and sad and told him, more than anything else, how much he needed to get laid. These; feelings he seemed to have caught, were like a disease. Or a virus. And the best cure for unwanted feelings is a good old-fashioned boink fest. He knew plenty of girls who would be more than happy to oblige. It was just such a pity he wasn't interested in anybody except Emily. Brandon scowled. Are you sure about the dress? Emily asked for the third time, loading the last of the shopping bags into Judith s car. They d spent almost five hours straight in the shops, with Judith dragging her from the one shop to the next, picking out clothes and smelling discounts from miles away. Her arms were sore from carrying the bags around, and her credit card had given up screaming in pain ten purchases ago. Instead, she imagined it making small little whimpers as it lay in her wallet, trying to curl itself up against the agony and torture she d put it through. But oh, she loved the clothes! The colors; Emily had never thought there were so many shades of pink, or that she could look so good in pastel and bright colors alike. For the first time in years, she didn t feel dowdy. She felt pretty, since Judith had made her go to a bathroom and change from frumpy and dumpy to smart and sexy. She was wearing a short skirt, teetering around on high-heeled boots that could not possible be good for her insteps. She felt deliciously slutty, even though the skirt wasn't that short. But the tight black sweater she wore with it dipped low enough to make men take a second look, and the jacket she had on over it was hot-pink and attention grabbing. Added to that the new jewel

Camping In Ireland: Part 2 A tale of firsts, set on a rainy camping trip, among young friends. Based on a post by Josh stone, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.  The Night Storm They stood in the dunes, feeling the sensation returning slowly to their clammy bodies. She grasped the two ends of the massive sheet together, behind his shoulder blades. Then she stood up on tiptoes slightly, and his thumbs slipped slightly into under the elastic of her pants. She gave a sigh, relaxing into his embrace, and he instinctively pushed her wet knickers down, feeling as they rolled over on themselves as they slipped down her ass. He followed by pulling her wet tee shirt up over her shoulders, where she tugged it over her head, and tossed back by the bags. She stepped carefully one leg out of the wet panties, returning to the warmth of his arm and pulling him even closer as she did so. Her gentle murmur as his hands felt the shape of her hips and thighs spurred him on, piquing his interest in this new adventure, this new and unusual setting. The absence of wet fabric quickly allowed her pelvis to dry and her body warmth gradually increased. But His wet boxers were still a problem. Intimacy in the open air. Their bodies relaxed into one another as they dried out within their towel, and he felt her goose bumps disappear from her legs. She pushed his boxers down, allowing their bodies to have full contact as they warmed up together. She lifted her head towards him, and they kissed for the first time since they had left her tent. He felt a sudden jolt of passion as her free hand reached down his belly and holding his contracted and rippled sack of balls. She continued to fondle his sack gently, and felt warmth return to his crotch. He was glad she wasn t giving attention to his shriveled wet pecker, which would need much more warmth an blood flow, to resume even a normal flaccid size. It wasn t even worthy of being called a cock, when shriveled this tiny.  He was preparing an embarrassed explanation for his tiny tally whacker, but it was welcome surprise for him that the awakening of his desire to know every intimate corner of her body, to feel his release at her demand and within her. Had somehow convinced his unconscious brain to re=prioritize rations of blood flow and retention to his promising phallus. His hands reached her breasts, feeling her nipples hard once more. She moaned as he rolled one between his finger and thumb, the bottom of her breast cupped in his hand as she massaged his balls. Her warmth and dexterity both relaxing and tensing him in turn. They both felt as his cock stirred to her touch, her other hand released the towel and surrounding his shaft, as he swelled. They stopped to spread the picnic blanket from her bag on the gentle hill of the dune behind them. They found a slight ravine where they could recline and be somewhat concealed by the several dunes, in every direction. She beckoned for him to join her as she lay on her side, and he lay beside her. Hands were on hips, and kisses deepened. It was as though they were again cocooned in her tent the night before. They were completely warm suddenly, the coastal breeze seemed to pass over their heads and they enjoyed the refuge of these sand ravines. Both were deeply turned on by the range of senses that had been awoken. Her breath began to quicken as she felt his erection press against her mons. She bent her upper knee and planted her foot to rest, creating an open crotch for him, and he felt as her body tensed slightly when his fingers wandered towards her most private place. Trying not to spoil a moment she had been enjoying so much, she had hoped he would not notice her anxiety, but knew all too soon that he had. Their kiss ended, his hands moved reassuringly to her shoulders, following her lead. "Nigel; I've never," She whispered. "I'm. I am enjoying this so much. But I've never done this before" Her face flushed red as she revealed this most intimate truth to the man she had only really met 24 hours ago. He put a hand gently to her face, looking into her deep brown eyes. "Libby; This is new to me, too." He confessed. "I really have no conscious idea what I'm doing. Our bodies, though, seem to be working in a magical sync, like they ve done this since the dawn of creation."  Wry smiles grew on both of their faces as the reality of the situation dawned. "I was so nervous I would mess things up, I really like you" he said eventually. "I want to explore with you". "Me too" she replied "You've been giving me such pleasure, I assumed you had been with loads of people before. They kissed, then she added I want to learn what makes you feel good". And so began a time of great learning for both of them. Their inhibitions lifted as they allowed themselves to be honest, to open up, to allow their most deeply-held feelings out to one another. She traced every inch of his rippled, lean torso, feeling his ribs rise and fall calmly before circling his navel, running her fingers through his salty hair, his pubic hair. He guided her as she stroked his cock, exploring it carefully with her eyes as well as her hands. She felt as he neared the brink of orgasm; then brought him back from the edge with his words helping her to understand this most secret of connections. She kissed him tenderly, on his arms, his chest, his cock, her lips gently enveloping the tip, tasting his precum, feeling him harden in her mouth. She licked his length, learning how a change of pace or pressure affected him physically, hearing from him what felt good. It was beautiful for both of them, a symbol of trust, and a marker of a new chapter in their lives, their relationship. This was not simply about orgasm, about release, it was also about connection. He was not ready to collapse, not yet. So he withdrew from her mouth, telling her about how sensual it was, how much pleasure she had given him. He felt her hip bones with eager hands, brought hands to her ass, felt the way textures changed. He put his hands on her thighs, felt as she moved onto her back, her legs opening, relaxing. He felt the softness of her inner thigh, how it became softer and softer as his hands neared her groin. She told him how much she wanted him to touch her, showed him how to touch her clitoris. He felt her wonderful heat again as his finger, wet with her moistness, explored delicate folds of skin. He had never seen a woman's vagina before, not in real life. He saw the way her labia darkened as he touched her, felt as her clitoris seemed to retract and then harden as she touched him. She was so open to him, so relaxed, her breathing deep and her chest was rising visibly. As he placed a finger at the entrance to her hot moist cunt, she groaned, urging him to explore inside her. His finger slipped more easily inside than he remembered from last night, her legs rising slightly as he felt her vaginal walls envelop his hungry finger. Another finger slid inside, and she told him to move them against each other inside her. As her hips rose further, she pulled her knees to her chest, and he felt the strong muscles at the entrance to her cunt open up, encouraging his fingers, deeper and deeper. He felt more horny in that moment than he could ever remember feeling before, as he saw her bulging vulva, wet with excitement, and so clearly trusting him to give her pleasure. She was nearing orgasm, her breaths were shallower and her guidance less necessary. It was so exciting to be outside together. He was desperate, suddenly; to be even more intimate. He dipped his head between her legs and gingerly licked her clitoris, trying to emulate what his fingers had done at first. His fingers were still deep within her, and he felt her tighten around him as his tongue began to explore her tiny nub. She guided him once more, telling him to lick around her inner labia, her clitoris too sensitive to be the sole focus of his attentions. He saw as she began to play with her nipples, felt her reach for his cock. But she surprised him. Instead of stroking him as before, she moved her body round, lying flat on her back and taking one of his legs and pulling over her torso, then sliding up so her cunt was directly under his mouth. Then she put her hand behind his head, and guiding it down to her vulva. As he focused on his oral adventure between her thighs, he felt the exquisite feeling of her taking his turgid cock in her mouth; as he licked her clitoris. It was the softest and most stimulating thing either of them had ever felt. There was absolute trust in both of them as they pleasured each other, her tongue and lips winding around his cock, as hard as it had ever been. His tongue licked her whilst his arms wrapped around her ass, and his hands parted her labia, feeling her wetness combined with his saliva running down his hand, between her legs and between the cheeks of her perfectly-formed ass. She felt as he inserted his fingers once more, and he felt as her cunt began to ripple, to contract around him, her panting building to a crescendo as she took him deeper into her mouth. They were in a sort of magical rhythm where both tension and a deep calm overcame any inhibition that might have previously existed. His fingers squirmed as her spasms grew, she felt wave after wave of pleasure dominating her body. Oh, Nigel! Oh, Nigel. You re Amazing! was heard by the birds in the area, but no one else.  As she was in her climatic bliss, his ability to hold back got weaker and weaker. He felt as the crown of his cock felt a soft place in her mouth, the warmth of her kisses overwhelming him. He felt as his balls contracted, felt as his orgasm built, not immediately like when he touched himself, but almost in slow motion. And then it arrived. Libby, here it comes, ah, ah! he shouted. He exploded in her mouth, releasing a guttural, almost primal shout as he came. She felt as he pulsed between her lips, tasted his semen for the first time. Oh, my fucking gawd, Libby! You re a sex goddess, baby! He finally declared. They held each other tighter in that moment than they had ever held anyone before, her nails digging into his thighs as his tongue gently lapped at her opening. It was only after the sun began to come out that they moved from their embrace, his cock now soft, and his head resting on her thigh. She turned her body round so that they could kiss each other's mouths, and both could taste each other, the salt of the sea, a relaxedness returning. They lay in each other s' arms as the sun shone, warming their naked bodies in that most beautiful of settings. And they knew that the next week would be one of further exploration, of firsts for them both.   Nigel and Sonia, Homeward Bound. The journey back to London was long and tiresome. Ferries, trains, carrying heavy packs. Libby bailed on her girlfriends and rode back with Nigel. This gave the new lovers some endless hours of private conversation and further cemented their bond. He told her of his empty house, his parents away until Tuesday. Would she like to come and stay? She immediately accepted his hospitality. By the time they had got in, put a wash on, eaten takeout, and had a shower, they were spent. Eyes closing and ready for bed. This felt different to being away, and they were now even more nervous somehow. Have I satisfied you, Nigel? Libby asked as they completed the late meal. And then some, Libby. Nigel admitted. I honestly need to give my sore cock a break til morning, if you can allow me? Oh, thank God! My poor cunny is stroked and licked raw, and reamed out by the greatest lover in all of the British empire! Libby finally expressed her relief. And so they both fell quickly into sleep, lying in each other s arms, tender kisses and good nights. Tomorrow would be another day. But he awoke sometime early in the morning, as she shifted in her sleep and he felt differently in his half-slumber. His hands moved slowly on her warm skin, feeling her muscles completely relaxed as she slept deeply, the sound of her deep breaths synchronized with his own. Only semi-conscious, he moved instinctively, his mind still foggy, somewhere between consciousness and slumber. The tips of his fingers reached round and down, holding her thigh ever so gently, tiny hairs the only contrast to her smooth, soft skin as he ran them along her body towards her body. As he felt her flesh draw inward, her softness giving way to the strong muscles of her groin, he rotated his wrist, pushing his hand down the front of her thigh and gradually down to her knee, noticing the change in texture as he reached her kneecap. A long breath, followed by a deep swallow. He became more conscious as he squeezed her leg ever so slightly, cautious not to awaken her, seeking more feedback and releasing a little tension. He trailed his hands back up her thigh, reaching around the outside to trace her hips, stopping where his skin met the cotton of her underwear. He felt the thin band of elastic at the edge of her knickers and followed this with this index finger slowly and deliberately upwards until he reached the front of her body, the point at which it began to curve back inward and down into more intimate space. His palm lay flat on her hipbone as his fingers stretched and splayed, relaxed but inquisitive, and he considered what might come next. She shifted slightly, her hand adjusting the elastic of her waistband, and she muttered something inaudible. He descended back into his dreams, his hand on her under the thin sheets on that sticky summer night. He woke as she shifted her body, her leg slightly bent as she relaxed her hips. His hands held her thigh at their highest point, with the top of his hand feeling the fabric of her panties whilst his fingers sensed the tender skin at the very limit of her thigh. His grip tightened a little as he noticed his heart rate rise, his left hand shifting slightly on the bedsheets beside him. He lay for some time, enjoying the peace and sensuality of the moment, enjoying the memory of exploring her body and his own. He could hear her deep breaths, sense her chest rising and falling, and feel her long hair against his face as they lay side by side, his body slightly turned towards hers as she lay sleeping on her back. His index finger explored her thigh once more, more intentionally than before, and he reached the edge of her knickers once again. This time, his finger felt downwards, between her legs, until he could reach no further. He loved the point where her thigh met her groin, where her skin became covered by cloth, and where he knew she was most sensitive. His finger began, ever so slowly, to feel across the hem and then the soft cotton of her pants. He felt the change in texture as her smooth skin gave way to soft, downy hair under the fabric as it rose from the firmness of tendon to the softness of gently rounded labia. She took one sharp breath. His quickened. His fingers hesitated as he reached the point where her labia met beneath her underwear. He could feel her cleft under his soft touch, and imagined being able to see her, so familiar and yet so secret and mysterious, even after all these months. His fingers followed the line of her slit until he reached the mound above her clitoris. The slight rise of the space where he knew her labia covered her most sensitive place, his finger stopped. He felt as her breathing quickened a touch, or at least he thought so. His temptation growing as she swiveled her hips upwards a fraction, only to relax again a moment later. In the gloom he tried to recall her underwear in his mind. Pale cotton, white, or possibly cream, simple in design with a plain band around the leg, a broader, flat waist-band with a stitched brand name in the same color as the rest. He could just make out the raised letters as he drew his finger tentatively up to the top of her knickers. As he felt her skin again, his palm laid flat against her. He waited. She did not speak or change position, but a deep intake of breath gave him courage, a sign of her satisfaction. Her stomach was warm and flat and the ball of his hand lay on her belly button, two fingers slipping ever so slightly beneath the waistband of her knickers. Nervous of misjudging the moment, he arched his hands, the tips of his fingers moving slowly up her body. He circled her naval, moving in on each rotation until his finger found itself inside and her strong stomach muscles tensed a soft, voiceless sound emerging from her mouth. He was emboldened and turned his body to face hers for the first time. As his hand crept upward, he felt the ribbed fabric of her vest-top. He brought his hand up until he felt her right breast in his hand. Her small breast fitted easily into his hand, with his thumb reaching around to her sternum, then arching over her firmness, feeling her nipple hardening as he did so. As he noticed her hardening, he felt his own arousal growing. Between his thumb and forefinger, he rolled her nipple gently again and again through her top. Her breaths were becoming shorter, and he knew she was feeling the same as he was, relaxed, sensuous and warm. She lifted her top, exposing her breasts in the darkness, and he felt her nipples properly for the first time. They were very small and very hard, rising from slightly puffy areolae, perfectly formed. He could not wait any longer, and brought his head to her chest, licking around her nipples, then taking one lightly into his mouth. He sucked her gently, his tongue exploring the slight variations in texture between her nipples, her areola and the skin surrounding them. He brought his other hand round and caressed her other breast, his erection beginning to push against the fabric of his boxer shorts. She spoke for the first time, uttering his name in hushed tones as he pleasured her breasts, reaching for his boxer shorts as he sucked her into his hot mouth. She pushed them down until she could reach no further, and he took over, taking them down over his legs and feet as she hurriedly removed her clothes. As she lifted her vest over her head, she raised her arms, then folding them around his strong back, their naked bodies fully in contact for the first time since they had got back. She felt as his erection pressed against her stomach, her breasts, slick with his sliver, pressed against his chest, and their breathing fast and synchronous. They both knew in that moment that they would give themselves to the other tonight, a new experience for them both, exciting but without fear. She rose onto her knees, turning the green lamp on that sat beside their bed. "I want to see you" she told him, as she looked down at his body, his cock hard and large. As she lowered her head, he felt his erection strengthen, felt the softness of her lips as they kissed and then enveloped the tip. She tasted his pre-cum as her tongue ran in circles around him, her lips exploring the contours of his cock. She slowly took more of him into her mouth, felt as he groaned, knew of his pleasure. He told her he loved the feel of her mouth around her, loved it when she took him deeper inside. She wanted more than anything to give him the release she knew he longed for, and changed angles, her saliva running around him, leaking from her mouth and down to his balls. Her hands cupped him, feeling this wetness and she stopped momentarily, lifting her head and licking him excitedly up his shaft. She shifted onto her side, her hands helping her to slip one of his balls into her soaking mouth as her hands took over on his cock, and she fel

National Nude Daisy: Part 3 Nude Daisy Saves The Day For her boss. Based on a post by CupidStuntDotEXE. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. The Desperate Plea. T Plus 4:50 "Tell me." "Why go through all the hassle of coming out here naked, to just hide away in a park?" I ask, meeting Eliza's gaze. "Was that the whole plan? Or am I the only one who is; was enjoying herself?" "The only thing I've really enjoyed was watching you," Bella says. "I'm quite ready to throw my dress back on and go home." "Really? You feel nothing? Nothing today excited you at all?" Bella sighs. "I suppose, if I'm being honest, there was a brief twinge. Not enough to risk my career over." Frankie puts her hand up. "Still wet. Still bored." "So let's do something," I say, sitting up. "We could have a few drinks? A pub lunch? That's gotta be better than; well;" I wave my hands at the empty park. "This." "I get what you're saying, but I have a shoot tomorrow," Frankie says, patting her flat stomach. "I'm contractually obliged to fast for 48 hours. I already cheated with that ice-cream. I can't risk the bloat." I groan and fall back onto the grass. "There's always next year, I suppose." A gust of wind sends a shimmer of recollection over my skin. I close my eyes and let my body talk. The grass tickles one side of me as it flutters in the breeze. I miss the heat. The tension. I want the ache back. Picking up my phone again, I scroll to the selfie I took. So happy. I smile, but I'm envious of my past self. So wet. I chuckle and zoom in on my thighs. Sweat, my cute ass. I can actually see my clit poking out a little if I really zoom in. I flick the image around. I can't imagine ever being that happy again. Do I really have to wait a whole year? My phone buzzes to life, making me jump. John's calling me? Laying back on the grass, feeling the tall fesque turf tickling my wide-set moist open cunt, I put my phone to my ear. "I'm on holiday," I say, before he has chance to say anything. "Daisy, thank fuck you answered," he blurts, sounding more stressed than usual. "I'm so sorry, but are you still in the city? Shit. Fan. I need cover. Please, Daisy." "I am in the city, but," I glance at my sun-warmed body. "I'm not really dressed; appropriately." "Daisy, don't worry about that. Just come in. Samantha is on the way, but it'll be two hours minimum. Jess isn't answering. Tara quit via text message, and Mary just scalded herself." I sit upright. "Oh, fuck. Is Mary okay?" "She'll live, but we sent her to the Urgent care clinic. Can you make it here before the lunch rush?" "Uh, let me check and I'll confirm via text asap." I hang up the phone and stand up. Everyone is looking at me. I glance at the phone in my hand, then Eliza, and finally at my filthy feet. Wriggling my toes in the grass. Bella would lend me the dress in her bag if I asked for it. I pull up my phone and type out a message. Daisy: Can I just get a written confirmation? I'm really not dressed, I'd have to travel home first, and that will delay me an extra hour. Daisy: I'm definitely a code violation. BossyBoss: Just come in whatever you're wearing or not. I'm not going to give you shit for bailing me out, Daisy. That's permission from my boss to go into work naked. I doubt he meant that, but; am I really considering this? That's work. I'll have to go back in there tomorrow, and every day after. Unless John fires me. Which he won't do today. He can't run the place solo, and we all know it. Two hours at work, completely nude, during the lunch rush. The absolute busiest part of the day. Saturday lunch rush is the best time for tips, It would really be nice to have some extra cash, I thought. But not if it gets me fired by the corporate stiffs. "Are you going to tell us, or just stare pensively at your phone?" Eliza asks. I look at each of the staring, expectant faces. Settling on Eliza. "There was an emergency at work," I say, watching Eliza realise what I'm i'm thinking in real time. "No," she says, shaking her head. "Absolutely not." I smile and shrug. "I'm leaning towards yes," I say. "You guys were basically done with nude day. I was the only one who wanted more." I wave my phone at her. "The universe just provided more." "Daisy, that's real life," Bella says, sliding her backpack off. "I brought spare clothes for a reason. Take them." I don't want the clothes. I want to be naked. I love being naked. If I was able to, I think I'd spend the rest of my life in the buff. Just throw all my clothes away. I don't care if I get fired, or about my co-workers seeing me. I want them to see me. I want to see Kenny's jaw drop. I want Sammie to gossip. I want pictures of me hung up on the wall. To bend over the tables knowing my lips are spread and leaking. I want them to fantasize about taking me. "I'll get way more tips if I don't," I say, winking. "Besides, John said to come in whatever I was wearing, or not wearing. I'm obligated to follow his instructions." Frankie smiles and nods. "Um hmm. Malicious compliance. I love it." "Don't encourage her," Bella snaps. "Eliza, do something." "Do you plan on walking there?" Eliza asks, flicking her gaze down. "Like that? All wet thighs with a wide on?" I turn to face her, taking a step forward. "Thought I'd take the bus, actually. The lunch rush will be kicking off soon. I need to get there asap." "Daisy, stop thinking with your snatch for a minute," Bella says, dropping her bag on the floor. "You're going to have to go back there tomorrow, and have everyone talking about the time you turned up to work naked." Shifting my weight, I grit my teeth to fight the quiver that sentence caused. Eliza narrows her gaze. "That's the point, isn't it?" she asks, cutting right through me. "You want them to talk. They wouldn't dream of a world where adorable, shy Daisy Hart would strut around the city naked." "It might be bad to have them talk, it might not," I say, shifting my glance between them all. "I think it would be much worse to go back and have none of them know who I am now." Bella falls back onto the table and holds her head. "She's lost to us. Our adorable Daisy is now for the streets." "You know that people don't notice me. Look at me," I say, thrusting my arms out wide and looking down. "I'm tiny, and constantly compared to all of you. That's not your fault, and you know I don't blame you, but it's the truth." I point toward the supermarket. "No one bumped into me. They certainly didn't ignore me. For the first time since we were kids, I was noticed. Fuck, I was ogled. Me. The girl hidden from the world by genetics and the average height of people's eyes." I shrug and let my shoulders fall. "Maybe it is in my head, and I was never invisible," I say, glancing at Eliza. "All I know is, the moment I stopped being afraid of being seen, I found the change I have been yearning for." Frankie hops off the table and gives me a hug. "We've always seen you, tiny-slimmy." I chuckle. "Is that seriously going to become a new nickname?" "Only all the time," Frankie says, kissing my head. "If you want to do this, I think you should do it." Bella rolls her eyes. "Frankie, you are a terrible enabler." Frankie chuckles and flicks Bella's nipple. "Not true. I'm very good at it. It's her body, her life, her choice." Eliza takes a sharp inhale through her nose. "What about Kenny?" she asks. "He might see you and run a mile. This might ruin your chances." "That would suck," I say, nodding. "It's been a year, sis. Something needs to change, or nothing ever will." "You're absolutely sure?" Eliza asks. "I'm telling you not to do it." "I'm going anyway," I say. "And you can post that selfie if you want. I look fucking fabulous." "Yes, you do." Eliza shrugs and turns to Bella. "She's determined." "I am. I have now graduated early, moving on to slay bigger giants. And I will do it alone, traveling solo on crowded public transit; then risking my economic security and workplace social circle. All because I refuse to go back to being yesterday's Daisy." I give Frankie a squeeze before walking to Bella and wrapping my arms around her. "Thank you, and I love you," I whisper. "I'm sorry." Bella squeezes me. "You know we're coming with you, right?" I step back. "Actually, I'd prefer it if you three incomparably beautiful women didn't steal my naked thunder. You three goddesses will enjoy the group security of each other's presence. I will slay this personal giant alone." I give Eliza a massive, very firm hug. "You've got my keys, remember? Would you mind waiting for me?" She pulls me in and rests her cheek on my head. "If your life implodes, you can live with me as my naked house cat. I'll feed you all the best nibbles." "Better not get cheap with the damn nibbles," I say, nuzzling into her. "Thank you for pushing me." Eliza breaks the hug and stares at her phone again. "Go on, fuck off," she says, glancing up with a smirk." I flick her nipple. "I want a fancy collar too," I say, walking backwards and waving. "Love you guys. See ya." Liberation of Daisy-2.O” T plus 5 hours. Then, I find myself walking out of the park again. It's a surreal feeling. Like my feet are moving on their own. My hands sway without thought, or input from me at all. I'm carried forward by automatic movements, as if my subconscious is driving. I'm floating through the streets toward the bus stop. My focus is on my body, and everything that's happening to it. My face, though; resumes the surreal bliss and confident friendly grin. The way my hand raises to wave at every honking car, or how I smile at every glance or stare. The phantom warmth of brushing past someone. When a hand or arm brushes against my skin. I wonder if they can feel my heat. When I reach the bus stop, the L E D sign tells me the bus will be five minutes, so I pull my phone out and text John an update. Partial update. I don't want to mention the nudity. He agreed to it, but I still don't think he knows exactly what he agreed to. I can't wait to see the look on his face. On Kenny's face. The customers, too. Oh fuck, the customers. Those awkward, flirty comments. My heart flutters as I think about it. I chew my smile thinking about Kenny. I wonder if cute suit guy is still thinking about me? Will Kenny have the same reaction? Fully hard with furtive glances. If he doesn't make a move now, at least I'll know. My nipples stiffen. Sammie will be there soon. Little miss blabber-mouth. She'll tell everyone. The whole city will know. It's funny. Last night I was adamant she shouldn't find out about it for the exact reason I can't wait to happen. The bus turns the corner, and I put my hand up to signal, enjoying the firmness of my tit as it moves with me. The driver gapes at me while I pay, and the bus full of people stare. The seats are all taken so I grab the pole next to 3 young college girl's seats. I smile at them, then fish my phone out and pretend I'm reading. Not reading. Watching. The texting app is mostly a black screen, and gives a reasonable good reflection of my surroundings. All the looks, the sneers, the licked lips. The hidden expressions they think they're doing behind my back. I relish them all. I lean against the baggage rack as the bus jerks underway; the metal bar shudders and shakes with the engine. Stealing glances at my audience, I notice there are phones pointed at me. I turn to the bloke behind my right shoulder and inhale a full chestful of air, then flash a big grin and throw up a peace sign with my hand. Yes, I've seen you. No, I don't mind at all. I don't care that I'm being filmed. I don't care that I have no control at all over that footage. My engine revs, and I feel my stomach tensing. Shifting my weight, I press my thighs together. Slick. Sensitive. I'm open and I know it. After 20 minutes, the bus gets me to the stop closest to the cafe, and I take pause. What am I doing? What am I about to do? This is it. The point of no return. I can't ever go back if I do this. That's not true. I couldn't go back the moment I stepped onto my front street this morning. So, I walk toward the cafe. Head high. Every inch of me revealed, heart and skin laid bare. Every escalation has led me here. I would have been disappointed if the day didn't end this way. This giant still looming over me. If I wasn't completely and irrevocably exposed to my contemporaries. Approaching my workplace, pass the various tables out on the street, still empty. The tables inside are full, and the people sitting by the windows gawk at me, mouths falling open as I walk through the door. Nude Day At Work: T plus 5:30. All the conversations end. A dozen people staring in silence. A chair squeaks on the tile. I smile and weave through the tables toward the back. John stands behind the register. He turns, locks his eyes on me, and they widen as the realization hits. His face turns red, and he grabs my wrist and drags me into the back. "Why are you naked?" he asks, whisper-shouting at me. "You said to come in whatever I was wearing," I say, gesturing to myself. " Or not wearing!This is what I was wearing, pointing to my thigh satchel." "Okay, but why are you naked?" he repeats, rubbing his forehead. "It's national nude day?" I shrug. "I told you that I wasn't dressed." "You; did say that," he says, looking out at the customers. "I thought you were wearing exercise apparel, short skirt or; or; flip-flops. I didn't think you meant literally." "Well, I'm here now," I say. "And I'm all you've got, but if you'd prefer, I can just go home and change? But I'll demand lost wages for the hour it takes" "No; no. I can't deal with the rush on my own. We're going to be talking about this at length. You can bet on that," he says, shaking his head as he scans my body. I smirk as he lingers on my tits. "I mean, where do we even put your name badge?" A fair point. It's sounding a lot like this will be my last day, after all. So, why not go out with a bang? Push my own boundaries for a change, instead of relying on Eliza to know what I'm comfortable with. I hold up a finger to John and walk out to the reception desk. "Sorry, we'll be with you in a second," I say to the growing line of customers. I fish out the marker pen from the pot beneath the counter and take it back to John. "Right about here should do it," I say, pointing to my left tit. "It'll be neater if you write it." He takes the marker and stares at it for a moment. "Daisy; what's going on?" he asks, shifting his gaze from the pen to my eyes. "Did somebody give you something? Do you know where you are? What's happening?" I widen my eyes and move my head closer. "I'm not on drugs, boss. It's really just comedic timing, that's all," I say. "The festival in the city? Was a nude one. I went with some friends, and we left our clothes at home. That's the whole story." I nod toward the marker. "People are waiting, so grab a tit and start writing." I rise on my toes and puff my chest out. "This is sexual harassment," he says, pulling the cap off the marker. "But who would believe me?" Holding the marker like a scalpel, and doing everything he can to avoid brushing against me, John scrawls my name above my tit. I flush as the marker scratches slightly, to inscribe D, and leaves a tingle as it passes. The marker is grabbing your skin, sorry for the bad penmanship.” John shyly admits. “Here,” I grab his free hand and firmly pressed it to cup my tit. “Squeeze and it will firm up. I want classy penmanship because it will not soon wear off, damn it!” I ordered my timid boss. Each letter of my name throbs and pulses, but it's John's breath on my chest that fuels my need more than anything. My skin prickles with each warm, damp wave of pressure against me. “I dot my I with a heart, not a dot. Please comply, boss.” Gods, keep touching me. Feel the heat. I fight against my shuddering breaths as he steps back & inspects his handiwork. Or is he just looking at my tits? My nipples pinch themselves under his scrutiny. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, putting the cap on the marker and looking out at the cafe. "It's going to get very busy, and I can't man the til and keep their hands off you." I have way too many tables to do my own bussing, John. You'll need to cover the clean up and reset, so that I get the hot food and cold drinks served. Also, If it gets too long of a wait line, have the hostess pass out menus and take their orders ahead of time.” “That's smart!” John said with a surprised look. “And I get to keep 100% of my tips!” was my final demand, Corporate doesn't know I'm here, so lets try to keep it that way. Don't put me on the staff ledger and don't log any base pay. The customers will determine my worth and I'll keep that sum to myself.” He just nodded his affirmation. He was now treating me as a business equal, but also as a valued person. I admire his compassion. Consideration. It's the excuse I needed to escalate. I don't give him the chance to complain, or even turn his head. I skip forward and wrap my arms around him. Pressing my heat against him, I squeeze him and feel his cock stir against my belly. “You're good?” he says. "I'm sure," I say, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for looking out for me, boss." I am powerful. I am desirable. Grabbing an order pad and pen from behind the counter, I stride back into the room full of waiting tables. Serving In The Nude: T plus 11:40. "Sorry about the wait, everyone," I announce, feeling everyone's attention shift onto me. They were already looking, but now they had permission. "If we could obey the honour system and let me know who's been waiting the longest, I'll get to everyone as soon as I can." I follow the chain of hands and comments, writing a list of table numbers to work through. The length of the list excites me. More than just a list of numbers, it's a checklist of exposure. I'm going to interact with every number, speak to them, joke with them, and they're going to look at me. All of me. Every part of me is flushed, and I know why. I know I'm horny. So do they. Every polite stammer, or lingering gaze. I watch the eyes as they drink me in, drawn to the parts of me they know they shouldn't be looking at, but can't help themselves. Those are the parts I need them to see. I shift my weight as I focus on my pad, scribbling away as though I weren't naked. As though I wasn't wearing a bag that framed my spreading cunt lips. As though I hadn't split my legs just enough to give a better view. I approach the first number on my list. "Hi, there," I say to the middle-aged couple at the table, tapping my 'name badge' with my pen, and flashing the biggest grin I can. "My name's Daisy, and I'll be the server for today. What can I get you?" The couple politely ordered their coffees and food, which I dutifully note on my pad. I smirk as the husband buries his head in the menu. Making a show of not looking. Though his wife made no such attempt, scanning me fully and nodding. "I was wild like you," she says, matching my smile. "Never went

National Nude Daisy: Part 1 A timid waitress dares to bare all on national nude day. Based on a post by CupidStuntDotEXE. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Daisy: T minus 8 hours. I spray cleaner over the table and start wiping. My thin chiffon black shirt rides up, letting the cold metal kiss the strip of exposed skin. I gasp, and my stomach flinches away, but settles against the cool surface. My five-foot-nothing frame can barely reach into the corners, so I rise onto my toes and stretch, raising my hips above the table's edge, and almost folding myself in half. Perfect. Gives the people milling about behind me an exaggerated view of my lack-of-ass. I'm fucking 23 years old! Someone tell my ass that it's not on a teenager anymore. The last customer is dawdling on his way out, and Samantha's work smile twitches on her face as she inches the door closed on the unwanted conversation. I don't share her enthusiasm. Today went by in a flash, and tomorrow edges ever closer. It was written in my diary nearly a month ago. National Nude Day, starting at sunrise. The one day of the year public nudity is completely legal, instead of technically legal. What, in all the gods' names, did I agree to? "You're off tomorrow, right?" Sammie asks, placing a tray on the table next to mine. My breath stalls. "Yup," I say, trying to act casual. "Going to a festival in the city with my besties." I had the response rehearsed, so as not to reveal too much. An entertainment website mentioned at least 5 different festivals on the calendar, so I'm safe with that ambiguity. The real honest event that Sammie cannot be told; A fucking nudist festival I am so not ready for, and definitely not ready for any of my workplace colleagues to know. Can you imagine if they found out? Gods, that would be mortifying. "Sounds fun, I'm jelly." Sam smiles, hoping I'll give details. I can hear chatter from the kitchen, so I move to the table I've been saving. Glancing to make sure Sammie isn't watching, I pop the top button of my shirt open and bend over the table. I angle myself toward the kitchen door, pretending I'm not watching it. Pretending I'm not deliberately showing what little cleavage I have, but; Kenny will come out soon. I'm not a shameless flirt, but I don't know how else to get him to notice me. All I have are these small moments, and even smaller hopes. 'Good morning'. 'See you tomorrow'. That's it. That's all I have. The door opens, and I freeze. Breath held. Tiny chest puffed. Feeling like an idiot. The thought of him stealing glances at me, or just noticing me at all, makes me quiver. I can already feel my nips drilling through my bra. He just strolls out like it's nothing, shaking his hair like a damn shampoo model. My teeth find my lip, and my damn heart flutters like a hummingbird. "Night," he says, waving. "See you tomorrow, Daisy." "See you good morning," I blurt out. My head slams against the table. Crash. Burn. "See you good morning?" I mutter. "What the fuck, Daisy. What. The. Fuck." Sammie laughs. "That was so smooth, Daize." "Shut Up," I say, throwing the rag at her. I've had this stupid crush on Kenny since I started working here. He's so sweet, and so very handsome. The way his hair falls down when he takes his hairnet off, ties my stomach into knots. On my first day, I forgot my lunch and my purse. He literally made me a meal, and even paid for it. I almost cried and decided right then that he would be my husband; boyfriend; we'll kiss one day? I sigh. Maybe our hands will brush together at some point? But, since it's a year later and I still haven't said a full coherent sentence to him; Outlook is bleak. John, the manager, walks out of the office and looks at us. "Daisy, you're opening tomorrow, right?" "Uh, no? I booked the day off, remember?" I ask. "Oh yeah, right," he says, rubbing his bald spot. "Sorry, losing track of everything as per." "We'd be worried about you if you weren't, boss," I say, picking the tray up and walking into the Kenny-less kitchen. He laughs nervously. "Doing anything nice?" "She's going to a festival in the city," Sammie answers for me. "I think it's a code for something, because I hadn't heard of anything." Good. The last thing I need is Sammie running her mouth about it. She's a sweet girl, but a gold medal winning gossip. If she knew, it would be global news within a week. Absolutely not. The workplace rumor is that Sammie and the boss are secretly an item. But neither of them will admit to anything. Hiding in the kitchen, my hands shake as I wash the cups. My heart is literally vibrating. How did I let my former roomy, Eliza, talk me into this? Why? That girl is too damn convincing for her own good. For my own good. Naked. In public? A chill runs down my spine, and I grasp the stainless steel sink to steady myself. It'll be fine. I try to convince myself. I'll be fine. My objectively gorgeous friends will be with me, so no one will even notice me, the pixie ballerina, at all. Is that better, or worse? I don't know. Drying my hands, I walk back through the cafe in a daze. Offering a small, polite smile to John as he holds the door open for me. The streets are full of people. Early evening hour in the center of a massive city. I hate crowds so much. Eclipsed by smartphone screens, I either dart out of the way or get flattened. Will the streets be this busy tomorrow? In the three years since the law passed, I haven't seen a single nude person in the city center Or anywhere outside. I suppose that's the English for you. Especially here. Nudity is definitely not professional enough. The hour-long train ride home is nerve-wracking. Tomorrow, I'll be an hour away from my clothes. Every seat is full, morning and night. Clinging to the handrail in my usual spot, pressed between half a dozen other commuters. I can't help but imagine tomorrow. My petite, naked self pressed between these same people. Idle hands grazing unrestricted flesh. Eliza: T minus 7 hours. This is so stupid. I'll just make an excuse to Eliza. Not feeling well. Stubbed my toe. Dropped my liver on the way home. At least the streets on the way back to my flat are clear. That's one benefit of living in the greater metropolitan area. When I turn the corner to my street, I can see Eliza sitting on the wall outside my place. Fiddling with her phone. "What are you doing here?" I ask, shaking hands fumbling with my keys. I know exactly why she's here. To stop me from backing out. "I figured you'd be thinking of excuses," she said, hopping off the wall. "So, I'm here to keep you honest;" Eliza pulls a bottle of wine from her bag. "And drunk." We head inside, and Eliza makes herself at home. She's been my best friend since primary school, and I hate the power she has over me. Not that she's ever used it for evil, but she can shove me way too far outside my comfort zone. I hate how she's always right. In the kitchen, Eliza pops the cork and gestures at me with the bottle opener. "Clothes off," she says, raising her eyebrows and nodding expectantly. My shoulders drop. "Now?" I plead, giving her my best pout. "I'm so tired." "You can put that lip away for a start," Eliza says, pouring the rosé into the big wine glasses. "Get used to being naked. It'll make tomorrow easier." "Here," she says, handing me the glass. "A little Italian courage." Sighing, I take the glass and chug half of it. "That's Australian." "Really?" she asks, checking the label. "Italian, Australian; I knew it was one of the 'alians'. Regardless, nudity. Now." Eliza perches on the edge of a chair. Perfectly elegant in her damn power suit. The gray material stretching over her thighs, reminding me how utterly outclassed I am. She sips from the giant glass and wiggles her fingers at me. "Fine; fine." I resign myself. Kicking my shoes off first, I get the easy part out of the way. The black skirt go next, and they are half-way down my thighs before I even question why I'm obeying her. The cool air on my bare legs makes them clench. She's really going to make me do this. My shaking fingers move to the shirt next. It has enough buttons to delay, building that agonizing coil in my gut. Every loose button exposes me more. I feel sick, but I can't stop. Eliza is smirking at me as I fumble with the last button. With a shaking breath, I slide the shirt off my shoulders and let it fall. "There," I say, adjusting my knickers. Glad for the wine and the warmth it's bringing. She just rolls her eyes and raises an eyebrow. Scolding me without words until my head falls. I know what she wants. Reaching behind me, I unclasp my black 32 B push-up bra and let it hang loose on my shoulders. Giving her one last futile look of silent, rejected pleading, I let the bra fall to the floor. Nipples hard and tingling in the cold. My nipples always over-react. She stares at me until I slip my thumbs beneath the black nylon lace panties, sliding them to the floor, and adding them to the pile of discarded clothes and dignity. She didn't even let me keep my thigh-high socks on. I can feel my skin prickling with the damp evening chill and Eliza's attention. Grasping my arm over my tit and crossing my legs in front of me. A small shake of her head and even those small mercies are stolen. My lowered hands tap my bare thighs impotently. She nods. "Good. How do you feel?" "Naked, cold, naked, and stupid," I say, trying to find that elusive courage in my wineglass. My head and the glass are tilted way back when I see a flash and hear Eliza's phone camera. I choke on the mouthful of wine. "Did You Just Take A Picture?" "Oh, yes. I did," she says. A wide, mischievous grin spreads slowly over her face. "Do you remember Henry?" The sudden shift in topic throws me. "The guy you were 'dating'?" "Fucking, yes. Now, his sister's best friend's cousin is dating the best friend of Kenny's brother," she says, her foot is twitching with excitement. "Isn't that interesting?" "Objection; relevance," I say, in an amateur Horace Rumpole impersonation, while pouring myself another glass. I'm going to need it. "Overruled." She shifted forward in her seat. "I have Kenny's mobile number," she says, waving her phone at me. My eyes widen, and I drink more. She wouldn't send that picture to anyone. Would she? No, that's; I mean, I was ever-fantasizing on him seeing everything anyway; No. No no no. Not like that, not without; you know. My fantasy involves Fondling. The desire is for him to help me out of my clothes. "Eliza, please. I know you wouldn't share my nudes with my co-worker," I say, almost sounding convinced. "It would spread around the staff. Other cafes. Waitresses talk. Samantha; no you wouldn't." "Actually, I would, because I know things that you don't." Eliza stands up and walks over to me, placing her hand on my chin and turning my face toward her. Her hazel eyes glaring deep into me. She rubs a thumb over my lip, wiping up some spilled wine. "Wonderful things," she says, pressing her lips to her thumb before licking them. "Juicy things, Daisy." Juicy things? About Kenny? What did she learn? It could be anything. Eliza has a way of extracting information from casual conversations that would make MI6 very interested. I bite my lip and look up at her smug, smiling face. "Ha-how juicy?" "I'll tell you tomorrow." She smirks. "Do you still want to back out?" My chest is so tight every breath I take, shakes me. I slowly shake my head. "If you don't want to, you know I'm not going to force you, right?" she asks, kissing me on the head. "I push you because I love you." I take another large, nervous sip from my glass. "Daisy, do you remember why you agreed to this?" she asks, slipping her jacket off. "Uh, no?" I deflect. Eliza folds her coat and places it on the table. "Because you want to be seen," she says, unzipping her skirt and letting it fall to the floor. "More than that, you want to feel desired. Because you don't even notice when you are, you feel as though you are not." I watch her fold her skirt and place it on the jacket. Without a single breath of hesitation, her bra and panties join the pile, and I'm left staring at her. I would kill to look like her. She has her mother's Italian genes. I swear she's related to Sophia Loren. Tall. Leggy. Graceful. And those tits? They defy all reason. This isn't the first time we've seen each other naked. I mean, we've been friends for over a decade, but no matter how often it happens, no matter how hard I look. I can't find a single flaw. Not one. "Tell me," she asks; pouring herself some more wine. "Just envious of your perfect body," I mutter. She smiles. "Thank you, but I'm not perfect." Bullshit. If Eliza walked into my cafe, I would bet an entire week's wages on Kenny asking her out. Pointing to her left nipple. "This nipple is larger," she says, pinching it and tugging her tit. "but the whole boob is slightly smaller. They are also heavy, as you can imagine double D's would be, so gravity and physics are against me. They hang far lower than I'd like." Eliza steps over to me; shifts the glass into her other hand, tracing a finger around the circle of my tit. "I would love to have tits as shapely and pert as yours," she says, giving my nipple a playful flick. "And those cute little pink nipples? Daisy, I don't think you realize how envious of you, I am." Envious of me? Her tiny, dumpy, chronically-single, charity friend? I cock my head and look up at her. She's seriously good at pep talks. My nipple is still tingling where she flicked it. Great. Now I can't stop thinking about it. The warmth from the wine is spreading throughout me, and I can feel that rosy rosé flush on my cheeks and body. The cold air on my skin feels amazing now. I give Eliza a big hug, which presses my face into her hot skin and soft tits. "Thanks," I whisper. "I'd probably never do anything, if I didn't have you to talk me into it." She wraps an arm around me, her hand sliding down my back, causing the muscles to twitch and flex with the pleasant tickle that follows. "I think you were always planning on going through with it," she says, resting her glass on my head. "You just enjoy letting me think I've convinced you. It helps your anxious nerves if you can deflect your bold actions onto a trusted friend's influence." I carefully pull back to look at her. "How do you figure?" Eliza smirks again, her eyes flicking down towards my stomach. "You shaved your muffin." My eyes flick away from her knowing smirk. "I waxed last night," I mutter, hiding my beet face behind a desperate mouthful. I scamper to my laptop, dodging the accusation. "Hey look at this subject change," I say, booting it up to access a soothing playlist. "Let's not get drunk in silence, hmm?" The music helps, and I almost forget I'm naked; or at least stop worrying about it. I even dance a little, at Eliza's bemused insistence. All it takes is a bottle and a half to find my courage, and by the time we stumble into our twin beds, I'm actually excited to show everything to the world. Until; Alarms. Daylight. Hangover. T plus 1 hour. I wake engulfed by Eliza. The first attempt to open my eyes is punished by the morning. Eliza is now in my bed. Learning my lesson, I lean closer, retreating into the comfort of her cleavage. She stirs to draw me in, and I wonder why I even tried to move at all. If only that incessant beeping would fuck off. We have a rule against turning off each other's alarms. She almost lost her job when I turned off her alarm, a few months ago. The beeping continues until Eliza groans and slaps my bedside table, then the lamp, finally killing the alarm. We both melt back into each other, sighing in the silence. It's 7am. "Coffee. Please, bring me coffee," she mumbles, pulling the blanket over both of our heads. I open my eyes beneath the cover, wiping the crust from my lashes. My cheek is wet, so I rub my face on the blanket and mop my drool from her chest. After checking she isn't looking, of course. Sliding out of bed, I rest my feet on the floor and stare at them. I don't want to be awake. I want to be asleep in the warm boobs. Standing up, a challenge in its own right, I'm chilled and painfully pulled out of my slumber by the cold morning air. I waddle toward the kitchen. I catch a glance of myself in the mirror that slaps the fog away. Bare skin. We're going into the fucking city, naked. Today. I drag my hands through my hair as I shuffle into the kitchen. "You can do it, Daisy," I mumble, flicking the kettle on. "You want to do it. Don't let the fear beat you." That's easier said than done. If I was being totally honest, the idea of it excites me a little. Just a little. The novelty of it. It's daring, and I'm never that. But; it's also terrifying. What if someone takes a picture? If they post it online, boom; Everyone I know has my nudes and I'm a floozy; A desperate pariah. A slut. Banned from all the church social events, and doomed to never find a respectable husband. Which is just my life in a 'slut' shell. I fill the cups with some strong, milky coffees. Three scoops. Extra milk. Guzzle-safe. Stumbling back to the bedroom, I see Eliza stretching in front of the opened curtains. She has no shame. None. "What are you doing?" I ask, offering a cup. "What if the neighbors see?" Eliza smirks. "Daisy, we'll be walking out of here naked. They're going to see." Oh shit. That's right. That's; A lot of the neighbors now have street facing cameras. Oh fuck. This will not be some quick thing that goes away. Things will never be the same. I chug the cup while catastrophising. From now until the day I move, every look I get, every smile, every nod, every 'good morning'; I'm going to be wondering if that neighbor saw me. If they have actual footage of my unmentionables. Would they jerk it looking at me? Do I want that? It would be nice to feel; desirable? Sexy? But what if it's not even hot enough for them to jack off to? This is stupid, but it might be nice to be sexualized for once. Not in a gross way, but feeling pretty, or even just comfortable in my skin. The way Eliza is. My heart goes into overdrive as we get ready. Showering, brushing our teeth, doing our hair and make-up. The most mundane things, but they're a countdown. When each new thing is finished, I'm one step closer to the moment all my walls come crashing down. Can you actually die from embarrassment? Eliza, fucking Eliza, is as calm as I've ever seen her. Perfectly applying her perfect lipstick to her stupid, perfect lips. Her hands aren't even shaking. How? Was she a robot this whole time? "I got you something," she says, sliding a ribbon-tied box from her handbag. "I have one to match." Inside is a small, rustic leather bag with two straps. "A leg bag?" I ask, watching as she pulls a larger one, unwrapped, from her handbag. Eliza takes the bag from me. "You needed somewhere to keep your sundries," she says, kneeling and fastening the belt and leg strap. "Y

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 2 Next Generation Discipleship and Social Group. Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected. As it turned out, I would learn a lot more about the subject during NG group a couple weeks later. The study that week was on 'integrity in relationships'. The study material was pretty general and covered all kinds of relationships, both social and business. However, discussion among the unmarried college students naturally morphed into a dialogue of biblical perspectives on dating relationships and sexual purity. The group consisted of students from very conservative Powell College, so the conversation was much what you would expect in terms of defining physical boundaries in dating relationships, avoiding temptation, abstaining from pre-marital sex, etc. Emily was sitting a few chairs to my right and noticeably fidgeted with her Bible cover while others talked about various 'Christian' guidelines for dating. She listened politely to several volleys of points and counterpoints before adding her own perspective to the conversation. "Sexual purity is important, but I think we're getting lost in legalism and missing God's larger purpose. The whole purpose of 'dating' is to find the spouse God has intended for us. That shouldn't be done randomly or haphazardly. We should be building serious platonic friendships and know that marriage is a very real possibility before ever going on a date." She continued after a slight pause, "For me personally, I don't want to 'date'. I want to be attracted to a guy that I already love as my best friend, and then have him 'court' me as an intentional commitment leading to marriage." She hesitated for an instant, then added, "I know that sounds unromantic and clinical; and maybe I'm being na ve since I've never dated; but I don't think there would be as much temptation if the relationship is defined by God's larger plan." My mental wheels started turning as Emily's comment pivoted the group's conversation toward God's intent for marriage. Everything she said made a lot of sense and I spent the next couple days reading the Bible and studying everything I could find on the topic. Meanwhile, I couldn't help but analyze our friendship, and my feelings toward her, within that newly discovered context. Emily’s note initiative. The next time I saw Emily was Saturday morning when she stopped by the hardware store to say hello. Unfortunately, there were a lot of customers in the store and I was busy helping an older couple choose a new mailbox. Emily waved while the couple debated between themselves whether or not to spend the extra couple dollars for a sturdier metal box vs. a plastic one. She wrote something on a yellow notepad by the cash register, then waved goodbye as she walked out of the store. The couple decided to go for the metal mailbox, which I thought was a good decision, and then I made sure they had the mounting hardware they would need. I went on to assist several other customers, and it was probably an hour before I was finally able to look at Emily's note. Beautiful flowing handwriting was perfectly aligned on the ruled notepad and read, "Just stopped to say hi! I'll be studying at the library this afternoon if you are free. Text me." She signed the bottom of the note with a simple "-E" accompanied by a smiley face and her cell phone number. I involuntarily smiled at the sight of her smiley face and phone number. The smiley face was just cute. The number was a welcome new step in our friendship. I saved her number in my phone and texted, "Sorry, I work until 6." I did want to see her and, on a whim, quickly hit send on a follow-up text, "Root beer at Muggs?" My phone chimed almost immediately, "Text me when you are leaving the store." Mr. Jacobs and I locked up the store at 6 o'clock and I texted Emily shortly after to let her know I was leaving. The local dog 'n suds type window-service stand was popular with Powell students and townsfolk alike, and was located just a couple blocks away from the hardware store. I was there in just a couple minutes and found the sunny April day had given a lot of other people the same idea. I didn't see Emily yet, but I figured I should claim a place in the ordering line. She arrived a few minutes later, fashionably dressed in a knee length olive-color skirt, light-tan corded sweater, medium-brown tights, and light-tan laced-boot style heels. We greeted each other with a friendly hug and then discussed what to order as the line crept forward. When it was our turn at the window, Emily ordered a chili-cheese dog, fries, and root beer. I did the same and we both paid for our respective meals. We shuffled a few steps over to the service window and, within seconds, received our tray of food. All the picnic tables were occupied and we waited a few moments as a family stood up and gathered their trash. Once seated, Emily opened her petite mouth as wide as she could and fiercely attacked the comparatively huge chili dog. I chuckled at the odd contrast of neatly-dressed, normally prim-and-proper Emily sitting there with an overstuffed mouth and chili running down the back of her hand. She facetiously reprimanded me with a mouth full of chili dog, "Stop it! These things are hard to eat!" After talking for more than an hour, we disposed our trash and exited the corral of picnic tables onto the sidewalk. I didn't want our time together to end and asked, "Would you like to go for a walk?" "Yes, that would be nice." We slowly strolled side-by-side toward the Powell campus as the sun moved lower in the sky. Remembering back to our conversation about Haiti, I asked, "Have you made plans for the summer?" "Yes, and I should thank you for that. I did a lot of thinking and praying after we talked that day at the hardware store. I'm going to stay here and volunteer at the Christian school's summer camp for special needs children." "That's great, but why thank me?" "Well, I was encouraging you that God can use you in great ways in your hometown; which I truly believe by the way; but, I think I was actually talking more to myself that day than I was you. You made me realize I strayed from God's calling. I chased the glamour of overseas adventures when I should have been right here reaching people in my own community." She told me more about the summer camp as we slowly followed the meandering campus pathways, and it made me happy to hear the excitement and joy in her voice. The topic of our summers dwindled to a close and we were content to walk in silence, just enjoying the time together. After a little while, Emily somewhat hesitantly asked, "Michael; how did you feel about the NG study last week? You didn't say anything during the discussion." We happened to be passing a bench when she asked the question and I gestured for us to sit down. We did, and I started talking from my heart without giving any thought to what I was saying. "Honestly, I hadn't put much thought into relationships or marriage before that study. Not that I don't want to get married, I do. I'm just so awkward around girls; er, women; you know that. Dating was never a relevant subject for me, so let's just say there wasn't an urgent need to study God's intent for it." Emily started to interject, "You're;” but truncated her comment when she realized I wasn't finished with my thought. "I've done a lot of praying, studying and thinking since Wednesday. While courtship isn't directly spelled out in Scripture, I think what you said makes a lot of sense. I believe God's intent is for people to truly know the real intellectual, emotional, and spiritual soul of the other person, and to seek God's guidance for them as a potential spouse. I think most of that can be done within the context of platonic friendship; without the, er; complications; of traditional dating." Our eyes met before I very intentionally suggested, "Mental and physical attraction is important too, but I think everyone knows that pretty much immediately without dating." Emily simply replied, "Yes, I think you are right about feeling attraction right away." She said it with normal tone and inflection in her voice, but her eyes gave her away. She had feelings for me, but was waiting for me as the Christian man to be the leader of the relationship. I was honest and a thinly veiled in my response, "This whole idea is very new to me. I know how I feel, but I need to do a lot more thinking and praying on the subject." Emily smiled warmly and we resumed our walk with more mundane topics of conversation. Thinking and Praying. I did do a lot more thinking and praying on the subject over the following week. I knew how I felt about Emily, but I also knew that the idea of courtship was a huge commitment. Did God place her in my life as my future wife, or just as a really good friend? The last thing I wanted to do was take that decision lightly and end up hurting Emily. The timing was also terrible. The spring term was ending in 3 weeks and we both had geographically separate summer commitments, her at the Christian school summer camp, and me at Burkee Hardware. I didn't feel it was right to take the next step with her then spend the next 3 months apart. I also didn't think it was fair to leave her in limbo for 3 months and decided we needed to have a real conversation. I was working at the hardware store that Friday afternoon and sent her a text, "Are you free tonight?" She responded a few minutes later, "Yes." "Hardware store at 6?" "K" Emily arrived a couple minutes after 6 o'clock, just as I was flipping the 'OPEN' sign in the front display window to 'CLOSED'. She smiled and cutely waved to me through the glass as she opened the creaky screen door. Dressed fashionably as always, she wore nicely fitting blue jeans and a white tailored button-down blouse that was thin enough to reveal the subtle shadow of a lace bra beneath. The outfit was smartly accented with matching black leather ballet flats, belt, and handbag. The screen door squeaked shut and I greeted her from the front display platform, "Hi Emily. Would you mind closing the solid door and flipping the lock?" "Sure." She did and we gave each other a brief hello-hug after I stepped down from the platform. We sat facing each other in a couple old wood benches next to the front counter. Emily placed her handbag on the floor next to her, then sat rather formally on the bench with hands folded in her lap. I had been building up courage for the conversation all day and couldn't bring myself to make small-talk. "I've been doing a lot of praying since we talked last Saturday, and I would like to talk with you about it some more. I'm probably going to stumble my way through this, so please let me get everything out before you respond." Emily mouthed an almost silent, "Ok," while she sat with a concerned expression on her face and nervously fidgeting hands. "Emily, I want you to know that you are very special to me. From the day I met you Freshman year, I thought you were amazing. I was just a stranger to you that day, but you overlooked my awkwardness and genuinely cared about me as a person. And not just me, you treat everyone you meet with that same authenticity. You are truly a gift to everyone in your life." My eyes began to swell with tears as I spoke, "I'm so thankful for the time we've been able to spend together this year. You're my best friend; and I think maybe God brought us together to be more than friends; but I'm scared;” Emily brushed away tears that were streaming down her cheeks. "I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you;” I gathered myself for a few moments before continuing, "I want you to know that I take any commitment to courtship, and to you, very seriously. As much as my heart is screaming at me, I don't think it's wise to make an emotional decision right now; or for us to start that kind of commitment as a long-distance relationship over the summer." We were both openly crying. "I'm so sorry Emily. I hope you can forgive;” She interrupted me, "Michael! These aren't sad tears. You are the most incredible man; and my best friend. These are tears of happiness that you have the same feelings for me as I do for you." We both stood and organically melted into each other's arms, my shirt absorbing her tears as she nestled her head against my chest. Her voice was muffled by my chest when she said, "I appreciate that you are seeking God's plan us, and not just following our emotions. I'll be here when the time is right, no matter the answer." I truly appreciated Emily's graciousness and patience, but it was still a very unsatisfactory conclusion for me. I suspect it was for her too. Unspoken Understanding. Emily and I spent as much time together as we could before the school year ended. In an unspoken understanding, we put aside serious relationship topics and just enjoyed a simple, everyday friendship. One of my best memories of that period, was when Emily stopped by the store for one of her normal 'hello' social calls on the last Wednesday of the school year. I had promised Mr. Jacobs that I would price a recently received shipment of new inventory before leaving for the summer. He was old-school, so that meant manually stickering each item with a pricing gun. I was just starting the process when Mr. Jacobs directed Emily toward the stock room where I was busy opening boxes. There was a lot to do and I convinced her to help apply pricing stickers while I focused on opening boxes and making count tallies on the inventory sheet. I gave a quick training session on how to use the pricing gun, then watched in amusement as her slightly OCD personality expressed itself through the pricing gun. She would carefully verify the listed price for each item, set the dial on the gun, then meticulously apply the stickers so they had the same location and orientation on each item. We worked well together and made it through most of the boxes by closing time. I left a few items for last because they needed a special vendor symbol added to the sticker. Rather than teaching Emily, I dialed the symbol on the gun and quickly slapped on the stickers, much too haphazardly for her liking. "Hey! Give me that!" I mischievously mocked, "What?; this???" while holding the gun over her head. She jumped unsuccessfully to reach it and I retaliated by slapping her shoulder with the gun, leaving behind a $3.49 sticker. She protested futilely, "Stop! Not fair!" I held the gun back over her head using both hands to adjust the dial, "You're right, you're worth more than that. How about $5.99." She playfully punched my stomach and laughed uncontrollably while I landed a dozen more pricing stickers on her back and arms. I reveled in hearing the pure innocent joy in Emily's laugh and let my guard down a little too much. She swiped the gun out of my hand and proceeded to dance like a boxer while occasionally landing sticker hits on my legs and torso. Mr. Jacobs must have heard the commotion. He opened the stock room door to find Emily dancing around me with the gun, and both of us covered in price stickers. I made the mistake of looking toward the door, and Emily took the opportunity to land three more quick shots. Mr. Jacobs thought that was the funniest thing ever and his booming laugh joined ours in echoing through the building. Separation Woes. Emily and I hugged and cried as we said goodbye for the summer. We talked on the phone at least once every day and texted constantly that summer, sharing every little detail about our days. True to Emily's encouragement over the last year, I was much more intentional in my conversations with everyone; friends, family, customers, acquaintances; everyone. It was transformational to develop 'real' relationships with people that I had known superficially for many years and, in two instances, to be able to see them come to faith in Christ. When the Burkee's returned from vacation at the end of the summer, I insisted on taking them out for dinner at a really nice 'big city' restaurant. Well, it wasn't 5-star, but it was the best restaurant in the next larger town a half hour away. It was the final year of our annual tuition-vacation arrangement and I wanted to thank them for all they had done for me. I expressed a sincere debt of gratitude that I didn't think I would ever be able to repay, but they repeatedly assured me it was a mutually beneficial situation and, if anything, the outstanding debt was on their side of the ledger. The extended summer vacations had brought back a connection in their relationship that they hadn't felt since they were young. In fact, they were hoping that they could work out a similar agreement with another high school student they had hired and come to trust. Strangely, being physically apart from Emily for the summer allowed me to gain clarity. She was everything I could ever want or need in a life partner. We were spiritually, intellectually, and emotionally aligned. She was my best friend, and a beautiful person inside and out. We simply made each other better. And most of all; I realized what I felt was more than fleeting attraction. I resolutely believed that God meant us to be together. Talking to Her Father. Back in Powell on Tuesday before classes started, I was eager to see Emily but first needed to talk to her father. The Fulton's were a very conservative and traditional family, like Powell College itself, and I wanted to honor that. I can't say I knew her parents well, but Emily had introduced me at church and I usually had short exchanges with them on Sunday mornings. Dr. Fulton was a pleasant, though formal man of average height and build. Mrs. Fulton was simply an older version of Emily in every way, both appearance and personality. Professors were required by the college to hold open office hours the week before classes, and I knew that would be my best opportunity to find him without Emily knowing. I knocked on his door early Tuesday afternoon with a firm response of, "Come in." I opened the door and stepped in, "Hello Dr. Fulton." He started flipping through some papers on his desk and spoke inquisitively, "Hello Michael. Are you enrolled in one of my courses this term?" I felt the unconscious need to match his formality, "No, sir. This call is of a personal nature. Would you prefer I contact you outside of office hours?" Intrigued, he set his reading glasses on the desk and leaned back in his chair, "What can I do for you Michael?" "It's about Emily, sir. I have had the privilege of getting to know her over the past three years, and think she is an amazing, Godly woman. We've become very good friends and I believe God may have larger plans for us." I paused briefly without receiving any immediate reaction from Dr. Fulton, then continued, "I would like to ask your permission to pursue a relationship with Emily." "Define relationship." "Courtship, sir. I would like to court her with the intent of progressing our relationship toward marriage." Seemingly satisfied with that response, he asked, "Have you talked about this with Emily?" "We talked about our growing feelings for each other before summer break. I think we both knew we were heading this direction, but God really gave me clarity over the summer. With your permission, I intend to ask her tomorrow." "Are you committed to the Biblical model of marriage?" "Yes sir." "That includes being the spiritual leader in the relationship, loving and honoring Emily as Christ would the Church; and upholding her purity before marriage?" "Yes sir." "Very well then. You have my permission." He stood to shake my hand, "I know she fancies you. I suspect I'll be hearing news soon.&quo

How Chloe Finally Got Some: Part 2 Chloe Goes Bat-Shit Crazy, then resorts to stalking. Based on a post by oldtruckdriver. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories. Chloe hopped out of bed and went to grab the drinks. On the way to the kitchen she thought not only had she not had Dave use a condom but she had him in her apartment. Both of those were pretty high on her list of things not to do. Her well-fucked cunt was leaking a long stream of juice down past her knees, by the time she had refreshments dished up. When she came back with the beverages she also had a bowl full of red and green grapes. They sat cross legged on the bed and ate the grapes and re-hydrated. "When we first got in the apartment you said you were horny and would explain later. "I guess I did. Well, it started last night" Chloe took a good part of an hour detailing the long string of bad luck and fluke circumstances from her 2 days of cock trolling. By the time she was finished he was rolling on the bed laughing. "Wow!" he exclaimed; "and I thought I had a fucked up night." She was flat on her back, laughing right along with him and said, "The only reason I can laugh about it is because of your failed attempt at mugging me. The night has turned out so much better than I thought it was going to, that's for sure. My craving for a good cunt-pounding was driving me nuts, but it was so thoroughly rewarded by finding and seducing you, Sir David.” He got up on his knees next to her and looking down said, "And it doesn't look like it's over yet." Referring to the turgid flag pole extended over her lovely tit. "Well look who decided to join us.” She turned her head and kissed the red bulbous head. “Let's get him wrapped up shall we?" she asked reaching into her nightstand for a condom. The sex was very good. He was a considerate lover and induced her huge orgasm; and then brought her along for an even bigger one, when he climaxed. When he pulled out, she peeled off the condom and dropped in into the bedside wastebasket. He pulled her over until she was lying with an arm and a leg draped over him. "That was very nice," Dave said, "Do you mind if I take a little nap? When I wake up I'll slip out." "First of all," she said grabbing her phone, "put your number in this. I'll give you a few days to get a new phone and I'll call you." She looked at him for a moment and thought to herself, well I've broken two of my rules tonight, why not a third. "I wouldn't mind if you stayed the night. Tomorrow's Sunday, we could go for brunch somewhere." She found she was holding her breath waiting for his reply. This was her bravest and most insecure moment of taking initiative and risk. "Much as I would love that, I have to get home early, to get Sharon to church." Chloe reeled back from him, then put both her feet into his ribs and pushed. She couldn't knock him all the way out of bed but he got the hint and scrambled out the far side. "You miserable son of a bitch, get the hell out." "Let me explain," he begged. "Go choke your own chicken, bastard," she yelled pointing toward the door. He quickly dressed and left the bedroom. She followed him naked to the front door. He fumbled with the three locks on her door and she shoved him out of the way, got them unlocked and jerked the door open. He was half way through the door when he stopped. No; by god, once tonight was enough. He stepped back into her apartment and pulling the door out of her hand, gently closed and locked it. "What the hell do you think you're doing? I'm calling the police," she yelled. If anything her volume had increased. Very firm and reasonably he said, "No, no you're not. You are going to sit down while I explain a few things to you." "I am not interested in anything you might have to say." It was a classic Hallmark Movie scene of Chloe being the over-reacting dingbat chic, feeling insecure about giving her heart away, then impulsively assuming the worst in a decent guy. "Well Chloe," he began softly, "I think there are things you should be aware of so please sit down." Then he roared, "And shut the fuck up, for the love of God!" This startled Chloe so much she actually submitted to his strong male assertiveness. She shut up and looked at him. His face was a mask of anguish. She silently sank down onto her sofa. David disappeared down the hallway and soon reappeared with the comforter from her bed. He draped it around her and then sat down in the armchair. "I was already accused of a lot of things that weren't true, tonight. I gave up on that other bat-shit crazy chic, because she was not worth fighting for. You on the other hand, I think, are worth fighting for. So, from the top, I am not married and have no kids. My ex, Brittany, was compatible for a while, but eventually didn't like being married and feeling tied down. I met Brittany when we were in college. She was a foreign student, here on an academic visa. She was passionate about us and we married a week after completing our grad studies. That was 4 years ago. Two years ago she was granted citizenship. Three weeks later she took off. I haven't seen her since. A month after she left I got divorce papers. We had a prenup and she got nothing of mine. I work in the financial district, actually I'm in arbitrage, and make a ton of money. I just resumed dating a few months ago and tonight was the fourth date with bat shit crazy lady. Now, I don't owe you anything and you don't owe me anything. We just happened to meet each other and have the best night of my life. If I gave you a good time too, that's great. I repeat; I am not married and I am not in any type of relationship, with anyone. The only thing I can be rightly accused of is being a divorced man. I'm sorry, I didn't mention that as I was being dragged up here by my cock. I didn't think it was germane to the situation. The 'Sharon' I have to take to church is my German Shepard. The church is at the nursing home where my mom lived until she died. I used to take Sharon to see my mom, and the staff convinced me to keep bringing my dog in as pet therapy for the lonely residents who were my mother's last friends. Sunday is our day for that. Just after the residents have breakfast. Thank you for your time and patience." She sat there stunned while he got up and unlocked the door. He opened the door and have her a long sad look and was gone. She hung her head and started crying. She woke up the next morning in her bed, but did not remember moving from the sofa. She only left her bed that day to pee and toward evening heat a can of chicken noodle soup. She thought about David all day Monday. On Tuesday she started calling the number he had put in her phone. He had given her the right number but every time she called it went right to a full voicemail. On Friday she was still getting the same result. She spend the weekend outside the city, with her parents. She insisted they watch The Princess Bride and she cried through most of it. The Hunt For Her David. After trying a couple times Monday morning she had finally had enough. OK she thought to herself, you are in I T, you know how to run a search. So she started a search with the known facts. She had a first name, she knew he worked for a financial firm, he was in the arbitrage department. Her results showed 117 hits for Davids in arbitrage. How can that be she wondered. She had had to look up arbitrage to find out what it even dealt with. It sounded like a very tedious way to earn money. She started on her list and had phoned 30 Davids by the end of the day. Tuesday and Wednesday saw her at the end of her list with no hits. Then she thought maybe the firm David worked for didn't call that division arbitrage. She did a search of every financial institution in the area. This yielded 245 new Davids. It took her nearly two weeks to go through them all without finding her David. His phone now said the number was no longer in service. She gave up at this point and tried to forget him. She moped around at work until her boss finally called her in. He was a good guy and soon got her talking. He heard her out and then picked up his phone, searched for a number and dialed. "Hey Mike, Stu Cooke here, I need you to do a 50 mile radius search. White male, 25 to 30, brown and brown, 6 feet, medium build, first name David, probably find him in stocks, financial, banking. This is personal so quick like bunny, my friend. Thanks, see you at the Carlson's on Saturday, bye." Chloe said, "I already ran a similar search, I got nothing." "Yeah, but you don't have the resources Mike has. His company does FR searches. If this David has had his picture published anywhere, the facial recognition software will find him. Now get out of my office, I have work to do." She stood up and said, "Thanks Boss man, you're the best." The next afternoon she got an email from FR Database. There was an attachment with pics of 64 men. She slowly went through them and about halfway through, there he was: David Wheeler wearing a tux and smiling shyly. She clicked on his pic and the press release the photo was from came up. It was a charity ball to raise money for, naturally, Pet Therapy Project. He was there as a representative for a private banking company. She ran a search on David Wheeler and found he worked for a private investment bank. No wonder she hadn't found him. Then she searched divorce court records and got an address. If she remembered the building correctly each apartment went for 2-3 million bucks. Suddenly she wasn't so sure finding him was a good idea. She had a good job but he probably made twenty times what she did. Why would he be interested in her? Her next thought was, money does not buy happiness, and she had every right to look for that happiness. Then she thought to herself, a court of law would not call it looking for happiness, they would call it stalking. Chloe wondered how she could meet him in the right circumstances. She couldn't just show up on his doorstep. She probably couldn't get past the doorman. His work was out too, but she could wait outside his work and then follow him, er stalk him. What the hell was wrong with her? She had never acted this way with any other guy, not even crushes in high school. This guy is everything you Don't want in a man. He's probably a workaholic, he's rich, he lives in a penthouse, she would be just another trophy wife. Wife! Oh no, not wife, where did that come from? She didn't know if he would ever speak to her again let alone want to marry her. Marry! My God, I am going crazy, he's going to call me 'bat-shit crazy lady.' The biggest question was still why. Why was she obsessed with this guy? And that's all it was, right? an obsession? She had gone out with quite few guys, some of them she had even had short relationships with. Her list of guys she had fucked and forgotten was fairly long. Most people would indeed consider her a slut. So why, why this guy? The voice in her head, the one with the answers, was obstinately quiet. Now, here's the plan, she said to herself. I'm going to stand outside where he works and let him see me. If he wants to talk to me he will approach me. If he sees me and ignores me, I will walk away and never think of him again. She had gone in early the next morning so she could leave in time to be at David's workplace when he came out. She had dressed casually in jeans and tennis shoes. Who knew how long she would have to wait on hard concrete. No way she was going to do that in heels. She cabbed over and got out. For a moment she thought the cabby had made a mistake. The address she wanted didn't seem to exist. She walked to the end of the block and found a number on the building so she turned and walked past a high limestone block wall to the other end of the block. It was a nice restaurant with the address etched in the glass above the door. Apparently the address was also the name of the restaurant. It had to be here she thought, banks, even private ones had to have a way to get in, didn't they? Halfway down the block was a small door recessed into the limestone wall. It had no writing or numbers on it. Then she noticed a business card sized brass plate embedded in the wall. All it had was the name of the firm David worked for. Well, she thought, at least that part went right. Then she realized she could not just stand on the sidewalk for untold hours. She decided she would go back to the restaurant and ask for a seat by the window and watch for him. She had a 50 50 chance of his walking that way. Then she had another thought. What if the main entrance was actually in the back of the building. She crossed the street to see if she could see something behind the wall. From that perspective she could just see the roof line of what was maybe a three or four story building that looked more like a mansion than an office building. She turned and looked at the building on her side of the street. It was an office building that looked like it had windows that overlooked the street on every floor. She went in and found a tenant board. She picked a firm on the top floor just in case someone asked what she was doing wandering around. She rode the elevator to the eighth floor and turned left when she got off. Sure enough there was a large window in the foyer. She walked over and looked down on the target. She giggled out loud. Target indeed, here she was, a female Tom Cruise, gathering intelligence for her mission. Then she snorted and thought, well that's about as real a scenario as the rest of what she was doing. Her target was a Greek Revival style mansion in four stories with a three story wing on each side. It was set toward the rear of the property and there was a nice courtyard and garden covering the area all the way to the wall. It looked as if the front door only served as an entrance to the courtyard area. That must mean the main entrance is actually in the rear of the building. Having finished her surveillance she made her way back to the street. She turned right when she got to the street. She went to the corner and crossed and continued down to the alley. The alley had an ornate metal fence with a large gate that stood open. She walked through the gate and saw it was paved with cobblestones and in good repair. It was also very clean, much cleaner that the street outside the gate. It was somewhat narrow for perhaps 80 feet then opened up on the right. The rear of the mansion was on her left. In the opening on her right were spaces for about twenty cars. They were nose in against a brick wall. Names were painted on the wall above each space. And there, the fourth space, in was David Wheeler's name. She stopped and looked at the car and was not surprised that it was a gray Lexus GS 350. "Pardon me miss, may I help you?" a voice behind her asked. She turned and looked up at a nice looking man in a security uniform. He was smiling and polite but what he had really asked was, what the fuck do you think you're doing? She returned the smile and explained, "I was just using this as a shortcut, is that all right?" "Of course miss, it is a public thoroughfare. We do however, like to keep an eye on the personal property of our clients and associates. You understand I'm sure," he replied with the same get the hell out of here smile. "Naturally, I just had to stop and admire this gorgeous piece of machinery. It's a beauty isn't It." His smile was genuine this time, "That it is miss, that it is." She gave him another smile and continued on down the alley. Shit, now what are you going to Miss Cruise? There was no place on either end of the alley to wait. What was she going to do anyway, jump out in front of his car. Well, if he were going fast enough that might be a solution. She walked back to the main street and looked around. In the opposite direction from David's building was a coffee shop. A Sighting. She headed that way, a mocha latte couldn't hurt, it might even help. She sat at the counter that faced out onto the street. She wasn't really paying attention to what was happening around her. She just sipped at her latte feeling sorry for herself. She looked out the window and across the street saw a bistro, an office supply place, a gym and a bakery. Typical downtown fare, nothing worth noting. Even the people were typical. Women in business attire, shopkeepers, bicycle messengers in bike shorts with colorful shirts with helmets, men in suits. Some of them were sharper than others in their Armani or Brioni. David looked very sharp in his Brooks Brothers three piece. Wait, what? It was David! There he was striding down the street carrying a gym bag. When he reached the gym he produced a key card and went in. She dashed out and, not looking, was nearly run over by a cab. She blew off his honk and an insult in a language she did not understand. The door was long closed by the time she got there. No amount of tugging or banging with both fists produced any results. She gave up and went back to the coffee shop. The only thing that kept going through her head was, I saw my David, I saw my David. Then she shook her head violently. He's not your David, asshole. He's just a guy who will probably be terrified when you confront him. Well, she thought, my mom will probably bail me out of jail when he has me arrested. She sat clutching her purse so she could rush out when he exited the gym. She jumped every time the door opened. Finally it was him. He had changed to a polo shirt and khaki pants. He had his gym bag in one hand and his suit on a hanger over his other shoulder. She rushed out and stood at the curb and yelled his name. He turned in confusion then saw her. He stood there staring for what seemed like an hour to her, but was really only two seconds. His gym bag fell out of his hand and his expensive suit fluttered to the dirty sidewalk. He never took his eyes off her as he crossed the street. Cars in both direction slid to a halt. Somehow he made it unscathed to her side. He stopped in front of her and looked into her soul. Reunited. "You," was the only thing he said before bringing her into his arms. They stood there crying on each other for a long time. Then he held her at arms length and just...looked. He snapped out of it and cried, "My suit!" He grabbed her hand and this time looked before leading her across the street. He picked up his things and looked around. "We need to talk and I need a drink. Maybe many drinks." They walked down a block to a bar called Harry's. He asked her, "Martini's?" "Dirty with two olives." He told the waiter, "A pitcher of martini's, dirty, and a bowl of olives, please." "How did you find me?" he started, "no wait, let me go first. The night I left your place I was devastated. I really liked you and had screwed it up completely. I just wandered around not paying attention to where I was. It started raining again and I didn't have a phone to call for a ride. I flagged down a cab and went home. I came back the next day to apologize and I couldn't find your house. Do you know how many brownstone's there are in that area? I knew it was within a block or so of bat shit crazy lady and I swear I knocked on every door and asked a lot of very suspicious and wary people if they knew where Corey lived." She interrupted him, "It's Chloe, C H L O E." "Oh," he said frowning, "I guess that would make a difference huh" "Anyway I had no last name, where you worked, nothing to help me find you." he took her hands and said, "I have been lost without you. I can't focus, I can't sleep, my boss calls me Zombie man. So how did you find me?" "Well, I had your phone number and I tried that for days. I couldn't get through and finally it went out of service." "Let me explain that. On Monday I went to my carrier to get a new phone. I asked if they would transfer everything to my new phone. She started to

Scholarly Dames Two stories of scholarly lasses with healthy libidos. style='margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;text-autospace:none'>Based on the posts by Select Redux. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.   Stimulating Reading Sexual adventures amid the bookshelves. Unlocking the big oak doors, Emily glances up at the Spring sun filtering through the stained-glass windows of the 'Institute'. Originally endowed by a Victorian benefactor, now part of a modern university, this old building goes unnoticed by most people passing by on this bright 1993 morning. The research library within opens just three days a week with Emily, its part-time librarian, fitting the job around her PhD studies. Some colleagues consider it a fusty backwater; Emily rather enjoys the church-like surroundings, lofty ceilings and marble floors, and calm, quiet ambience. Starting the day as usual at 8.45am, Emily turns on the lights, picks up the post and then sits at the front desk waiting for students to arrive. The job isn't the most exacting; mainly helping undergraduates locate obscure books, its perk being plenty of time to write her thesis and, blush-making to admit, peruse the rather splendid erotica section. Something that's become a bit of a habit, leaving her distracted and almost perpetually aroused. This 'special collection' is kept locked; its key is supposedly secure in a safe; in fact on a chain around Emily's neck. Currently 'in between boyfriends' (no, not like that!) in truth modern men, mostly boys inhabiting adult bodies in her opinion, don't do it for Emily. Call her traditional, she wants someone old-fashioned. Emily's romantic, bookish outlook on life sometimes feels unsuited to modern times and is exemplified by today's attire: cardigan, blouse, and a string of pearls, the epitome of respectability; a typical librarian. A knee-length skirt, sensible shoes, minimal makeup and glasses habitually perched upon her head complete the academic look. However, underneath one (who? she reflects glumly) might be surprised to find some almost sinfully brief lingerie adorning her trim figure. Perhaps not so conservative; Later that afternoon, Emily looks at her watch, half an hour until closing, not likely to see anyone else today she thinks. Wrongly, because striding confidently through the rotating door and purposefully approaching her desk is a new customer. In contrast to the usual scruffy students (although arguably the lecturers are worse) he's smartly dressed. Wearing a tie in fact; Emily likes a chap in a suit and his fits very well. This tall man with silvery grey hair favors her with a confident smile and Emily melts inside, lust at first sight. Michael, they are quickly on first name terms, is a postgrad mature student working on the final dissertation of an English literature MA. He's taken a couple of weeks' leave from an unspecified (Emily suspects high-powered and well-remunerated) job to complete it. Meaning, she sends a silent prayer of thanks to whichever celestial deity might be responsible, he'll be making frequent trips to the library. Visits she soon begins to eagerly anticipate, feeling disproportionately disappointed on days when this charming, personable and undoubtedly assertive man doesn't appear. Get a grip girl, chides her inner voice, whatever your fantasies this is a purely professional relationship. "What did you do before studying," she enquires one morning. "Came from money, followed the family tradition into the City and made some more," he shrugs. "Clich d thing for a privileged person to say but it didn't make me happy." "What does?" "Good writing, which explains why I'm here in literary mode, how about you?" "A very bright kid from a feckless, under-achieving family; got a scholarship, got out of my dead-end town and got a higher education. Not having money means I have to take a series of dull jobs to pay my way." There's no need to make her point any more strongly, Michael gets the implication. "I detect a steely determination," he responds without rancor. "Academically, yes," she agrees, "in order to remain with my beloved books, but unfashionable though it is I'd happily be rescued by a knight in shining armor. Will you be my knight?" Christ, she thinks, where did that come from? Silly mare you've blown it now. "If you'll be my damsel in distress I'd be delighted," Michael answers lightly, but a die has been cast. "What are you working on today?" he enquires conversationally when next visiting. "These books were recently acquired for the special collections section. I'm trying to catalogue them," she explains, outwardly serene, but heart beating fast. "Ah the erotica," Michael raises a knowing eyebrow, "better leave you to it then." He turns to a nearby table with a couple of hefty tomes and commences making notes while covertly observing Emily, absently twirling a lock of hair with one hand, the other no longer on the table but underneath. Much later, abruptly jolted from a pleasurable reverie by his shadow, Emily becomes abruptly aware of Michael's looming presence. "You're spending a lot of time on books from that particular genre," he says, it isn't a question. "Well; " she stammers. "Perhaps that's why you've twice left the University's precious erotica shelves unlocked lately?" Her eyes widen in shock. "How did you know?" It's true, no point in denying the fact. "I notice things. An accident I'm sure, but rather careless, some might even say naughty. Are you naughty Emily?" Silence, the cat has got her tongue. "Do you deserve to be punished? Might that be a better solution than the matter being brought to the attention of the Vice-Chancellor?" Michael presses home his advantage. "Those rare editions are extremely valuable. Perhaps you need to be taught a lesson, bought to book one might say." Emily gets the joke, but it's no laughing matter. "Punished; lesson?" she stammers, "what do you mean?" "I think you know to what I'm referring, you've read enough about spanking, no doubt wondered what it might be like. I don't believe you're as innocent as you pretend Emily, I saw you slide a hand under your skirt just then. Most unprofessional, you deserve to have your bottom smacked." "Oh; " Overwhelmed by his quiet certainty that she'll obey, Ellie discovers in herself a complimentary willingness to defer; feels her pussy throbbing with desire at every word Michael utters. This is ridiculous, thinks her rational brain, I'm an independent woman, he's no right to demand my obedience. But you know you want to, responds her libidinous subconscious, you've so often dreamt of such a scenario, and how you'd willingly submit; She nods anxiously towards the door. With an unreadable expression, Michael walks purposefully towards the entrance, locks it and returns. "Bad girls require discipline," he whispers in her ear. "They do, sir," she meekly agrees. "Come here." Emily stands next to him, hands behind her back. "Turn around and lean forward against the desk." Deferentially, eyes downcast, Emily complies; wrapping his left arm around her slender waist Michael slowly, and deliberately raises her skirt. Emily wishes her boobs were just a little bigger; wishes her arse was just a little smaller but knows her lovely legs are just right. Now so does he. A grunt of male disapproval, "I don't like tights," he tugs her pantyhose down revealing flawless bottom cheeks, "next time I expect you to wear stockings." Next time, who said anything about next time? Despite her mounting panic, Emily has an epiphany of understanding; Michael's coercion is more implied than actual, less of a threat by him as a need within her. He runs his hands appreciatively over her pristine, unmarked bottom then tugs those unexpectedly racy, almost transparent black panties up hard into Emily's damp divide, the silken scrap disappearing between puffy pussy lips, chafing her swollen clit. "Turns you on doesn't it" he growls, holding her tightly. "Yes, but I'm scared," she whispers and it's true, the physical proximity and her helplessness in the hands of an alpha male are more exciting than anything Emily has ever before encountered. Emily tenses, holding her breath, awaiting the inevitable; yet the initial smack still catches her by surprise. At first, it's mainly about the ringing percussive sound, a numbing shock. Prudently Michael allows a pause, he can tell it's her first time. Gradually her skin pinkens and a sharp stinging sensation suffuses Emily's posterior. "Oh," she looks at him wide-eyed, "oh yes," amazed by her compliance with the punitive intentions of a man she scarcely knows. A second spank, slightly harder this time. "Feeling it now aren't you," Michael mutters, "rather different from in the stories you're so keen on?" True, the reality of what before was only fevered fiction is raw and immediate." I'll stop if you ask me to," he adds. "Surely not when I've been so wicked," Emily replies huskily. The scene is set, and his hard palm strikes her bottom repeatedly as Michael methodically and unhurriedly continues, Emily's body responding animatedly to the burning sensation gradually suffusing her derriere. "Keep still," he commands as she squirms in a futile attempt to dissipate the smart. Eventually, Emily has no idea how long, five minutes, or an eternity, Michael ceases her chastisement. Both are breathing heavily now, albeit for different reasons. He slides a hand up her inner thigh and under her knickers. "Good girl," Michael whispers, pushing an exploratory digit into Emily's sopping sex. She shuts her eyes and moves against his fingers, Emily is needy, alas, her evident excitement is unrequited. Taking her by the shoulders, Michael turns the shaken young woman to face the wall. "Make yourself respectable," he instructs in a tone countenancing no dissent, "don't move until I've left, no rubbing your bottom, or anywhere else. I'll let myself out," he kisses the top of her head, "and be back soon to do one final bit piece of research, don't miss me too much." And then he's gone; taken Emily to the edge and abandoned her unsatisfied. Which, thinks Emily, bottom glowing fiercely, is truly sadistic. Simmering with sexual awakening, she's no intention of being denied. Walking stiffly towards her chair Emily sits, wincing as her tender buttocks contact with the seat. Legs spread and eyes closed she pushes a hand down the front of her panties and addresses her pent-up frustration with flying fingers, and soon has a shattering orgasm. On Monday morning, after a weekend mentally replaying this momentous encounter, and multiple flouting of Michael's embargo on masturbation, Emily walks into work full of hope for what the new week may bring. Inwardly more confident, her outward appearance has also altered. She's taken more care with makeup, mascara and her favorite cherry red lipstick. Does her best not to tug down her hem at every step. Emily hasn't previously worn such a short skirt and worries people may notice she's wearing stockings. Once at work, it's business as usual, albeit with some appreciative glances from borrowers, being desired is an unfamiliar but welcome ego boost. Emboldened, Emily experiments with undoing the second button of her blouse. She can't conceal her unhappiness when Michael fails to arrive and becomes increasingly despondent when he doesn't turn up on Tuesday and Wednesday either. By Thursday she's almost lost hope. Turning to the erotica collection for comfort a photograph falls from between the pages of a book on 'Le Vice Anglaise'. Emily looks aghast, Michael! But it can't be, the date scribbled on the back is 1936, does her dom have a doppelganger? All too much of a conundrum to deal with in her overwrought state, Emily locks up early and heads disconsolately home. On Friday she settles onto her stool and re-opens the same book. Was Michael ever really here, she wonders? Could this have been some sort of hallucination, an epic instance of self-delusion? Of course not, get real, examine the facts, she inwardly chides. Consider the evidence of two days of sitting gingerly, the finger marks on your sore buttocks visible in the mirror. She was spanked alright, the pertinent question being whether she will see Michael again, let alone reach the sexual conclusion so ardently desired. Not being clairvoyant, Emily doesn't have a clue about either outcome, for now, she tells herself sternly, you'd better get on with some work. Mentally listing the day's mundane tasks Emily doesn't notice a familiar figure quietly enter the building until he's immediately adjacent. Caught unawares her incipient shout of shock is stifled by his hand. "I'll remove it from your mouth," his voice whispers, "if you promise not to scream, understood?" Emily remains frozen, struggling to get to grips with her predicament, then nods assent. "Where did you appear from?" she enquires in a small voice. "Not important right now," he shushes. "Your picture; " She points at the faded sepia print on the table. "My father," he laughs, "chip off the old block, aren't I? Long gone, of course, he put up the money to establish the erotica collection you've so much enjoyed." Helping the shaken young woman to her feet he moves Emily to face a bookcase. "Just relax," he says calmly, trailing a hand teasingly up and down the back of her thighs. "Relax," she tenses at the suggestion, "when I don't know what you intend to do." "I think you can hazard a pretty accurate prediction," he teases. "I'm quite sure you're planning to punish me again," says Emily shivering with anticipation at the thought, "what might occur afterwards is what's preoccupying me." "What do you hope happens?" he enquires, lips brushing the nape of her neck. "I think you can make a very good guess," Emily replies cheekily. Right now, she can't think of anything she wouldn't let him do, Emily has read many salacious books and has a vivid imagination. "I'm enjoying your new look," says Michael appreciatively, "let's explore beneath; " He unbuttons her blouse to the waist, frees her boobs and rolls each erect nipple in turn between finger and thumb. In response, Emily kisses him hard on the mouth, her acquiescence clearly in no doubt. His other hand slips between her thighs and encounters wetness between them. Emily moans at this touch, yearning to be penetrated by the hard cock she can feel bulging through his trousers and pressing against her thigh. "You'll endure a harsher correction this time," he murmurs, bending Emily across the desk while removing his belt. "The door", she gestures urgently. He shrugs off her concern. "We'll just have to take the chance; I find a little jeopardy adds a frisson of excitement." Wrestling up the short, tight skirt exposes the soft curves of Emily's hips and beautiful bottom; Michael monetarily enjoys the sight, and then pulls her knickers down and off. "Someone wants to be fucked pretty badly," he observes, a hint of amusement in his voice as he glimpses her damp, pouting slit. With no warning he straps Emily, hard and fast, leaving blazing bands of hurt across both cheeks and down to her stocking tops. She yelps, groans and stamps her feet, nevertheless thrusting out her buttocks to meet each of the worn leather's cruel kisses. A further dozen overlapping strokes sear across her fiery red behind until Emily thinks she can't possibly endure further chastisement. "Hurts," she whimpers, tears in her eyes, although the perfect pain only serves to stoke a fire of arousal down below. Aware of her limits Michael runs his hands along the insides of Emily's legs and pulls her knees apart, leaving her open and exposed. His tongue repeatedly explores the length of her labia, right up to the nub of her clit, building each caress into a rhythmic repetition. Emily feels an orgasm inexorably approaching, her breathing becomes fast and uneven. "Fuck you're tight," he observes crudely, sliding a finger into Emily's inviting pink cunny and then positioning his erection at her slick entrance. "Stop teasing and do it hard!" she screams, last vestiges of dignity and reserve surrendered. Lewdly Emily pushes back her hips, anxious to have him inside her. Equally caught up in the intensity of the moment, Michael fills the lusty librarian with the cock she craves. All inhibitions abandoned, Emily feels the rhythm of his thrusts increasing, her pussy spasms and takes them both to an inevitable sexual crescendo. They lay silent for a moment before Michael chivalrously passes Emily a large linen handkerchief to mop the come leaking onto her nylon-clad thighs. "I think my poor bottom has suffered quite enough for one day," she whispers sensually, "how about you take me home to your place and fuck me again, slowly and gently?" "How about we take one of the books from the special collection to provide us with inspiration?" he replies. "Oh, I think I've already done quite enough research," Emily responds with a giggle. "Then let's grab a bottle of wine and see if we can't put theory into practice," agrees Michael. Cut to a year later, doctorate earned; Emily has been promoted to take charge of the main university library. There's a new young woman librarian at the Institute, still on probation and requiring guidance. Emily considers herself a firm but fair manager and has kindly offered an after-hours tutorial on the special collection. A recently successful MA student, now a research fellow, somewhat older and vastly experienced, may join them; By Select Redux for Literotica Cleverness is Sexy Winning a quiz transformed Alice from swot to hot. By Select Redux An exceptionally brainy young woman, Alice has pursued her academic interests to the exclusion of almost everything else in life. There will, she reasons, on the verge of her 23rd birthday, the M A she's strived so hard to attain nearly complete, be plenty of time to pursue other interests later. Travelling perhaps, a life outside the university library, even something so mundane as clothes shopping. Used to being an outsider, teacher's pet, bookworm and swot are familiar, uncomplimentary descriptions, Alice embraces her geek status with pride. Sure, she attends the occasional postgraduate party, more out of a sense of obligation than enthusiasm, but blokes her age don't do it for Alice. Seemingly either intimidated by her intellect or determined to brag to their mates they've 'scored a nerd'; it isn't worth the hassle. An invitation to join the university quiz team is an entirely different prospect, both a challenging intellectual test and, best of all, the chance to meet Giles Knighton, celebrity quizmaster ('QM'), of the TV series, 'Battle of the Brightest'. This popular program involves a collection of brains the size of Mars competing for, well, since you ask, an engraved glass bowl: no cash prize, no foreign holiday, simply a public endorsement of higher education. Alice secretly fancies Giles; she's minimal experience in such matters, but something about the way he solemnly utters the phrase, "five-point penalty," when an over-eager contestant answers too soon makes her damp with desire. In recent months she's had a bizarre recurring dream of being summoned to his office wherein the QM, dramatically stretching each syllable, insists Alice pay a pen-al-ty and spanks her across his knee. Where on earth did that idea come from? Never smacked by her impeccably liberal parents as a child and top of her class each year, she was a regular goody two shoes. Is spanking even a thing, Alice

Helping the Karlssons: Part 2. The young sisters take it further with the summer help. Based on a post by m jar 65. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories. "Tim; Tim, I can't take any more," poor Summer gasped after uncountable orgasms. "I want your cock." The young man happily rolled onto his back as Summer scurried down the bed. Still somewhat innocent, she understood what he needed. Eager, and confident, she grabbed him by the base of his shaft and took a good look. "It's the biggest I've had," she said with a grin and proceeded to take half his cock into her mouth. It was Tim's turn to lie back and groan his pleasure. He was inexperienced at receiving head jobs and so was more than satisfied by Summer. As she bent over him, Tim got to watch her soft mouth stretch around his thick shaft. It was framed by her blonde hair and looking beyond he could see her sexy, blue-veined tits swaying as she tried her best to pleasure him. Her wet lips looked perfect as his thick, veined cock slipped back and forth into her hungry mouth. "Take your time, Summer," he warned. "Unless you want me to cum in your mouth. "I want it inside me," she pleaded to him. "Fuck me, Tim. I need it." Tim was in no mood to deny her. He'd never met a woman so keen for sex; except perhaps her sister, April. His last girlfriend had usually needed cajoling before she'd agree to fuck. Tim knew that some women preferred to be slutty and Summer was the perfect specimen. He reached for the pack of condoms as Summer lay down, already pulling her knees high and wide to give him access to her hole. "Oh yes, fuck me," she moaned as Tim began to penetrate her. "I really need you." Tim felt the same way. He knew Summer was practically a virgin. But she was young and sexy. And eager to let him use her. She groaned as he penetrated her, lifting her tanned legs onto his muscular shoulders. "Oh, that's good. Yes, fill me." Sex in a proper bed, with an older boy, delivered for Summer in every way. And the nice thick cock was the best part of all. She thought of Tim as worldly and experienced; and powerful. His wonderful cock was all the proof she needed. Summer opened herself the way she'd seen women in porn and hoped Tim would understand and use her hard and deep. Tim knew none of that. But he could guess that she was willing to be seriously fucked. And he was horny enough to try it, to pound Summer as best he knew how and see how much of a rough fucking she could handle. He quickened his thrusting, trying to give Summer his full length as he built up his power and began to slam into her. She was discovering the advantage of a bedroom with the extra space where a man could really use her juicy young body. "Oh, yes. Sweet Mary. Fuck me, Tim; I think I'm cumming. Oh;” Tim had only experienced young, tight cunts but this one seemed especially delightful. He was spurred on by her constant moaning. With her legs high, his weight bending her almost in half, her big tits shook and her mouth hung slackly so that she issued a constant stream of sound. But Tim knew each time she climaxed from the sudden increase in the noise from her church-going mouth. Not to mention the spasming of her young cunt around his shaft. Summer was a hot one, indeed. And that was signal enough that Tim could unload. Like any young man he thought of sex as mostly about blasting his seed somewhere. With Summer's warm cunt wrapped around his cock all he wanted was to empty his balls into her. "My turn," he grunted between thrusts into her soaking hole. "Do it, Tim. Cum now. Cum for me." He'd never realized that women could find the male climax the most important part of fucking. But Summer already knew, after only a few times, the delicious triumph of a man flooding his seed into her body. And she thought it only right to tell a man exactly what she wanted. She felt him thrusting still deeper. The tension in his muscles was obvious. And he was grunting in time with the movement of his hips. Summer was still new to the male orgasm but there was something instinctive and primal about a man blasting his seed inside her body. There was a mixture of relief and intense pleasure as the handsome Tim took his full pleasure from her young body. Finally she lowered her legs and rested her hips with Tim lying on top of her. They both were still panting from their exertions. Each of them content in the afterglow of intense and forbidden sex. They almost cuddled, too young to really understand how to share the moment. But their coupling had involved not emotion but raw lust and each was pleased enough to have shared the act. Summer was more interested in watching when Tim removed the condom. She was impressed by the contents; so much cum! In her mind it only proved that Tim was a real man. And to think that she had been the cause of such a flood. Summer was determined that this would not be the last time she had sex with Tim. "I better get home," she muttered to him. "Father will be upset if I am late." The evening concluded far quicker than Tim would have liked. But what the hell; it was his first fuck in months and what was more, he'd just screwed the boss's eldest daughter. "See you in the store," he grinned. Tim's only regret about that first night with Summer was that she'd ended it so quickly. He understood the need to hide what they were doing from Mr. Karlsson. Or perhaps her experience was limited to virgins who didn't know how to cum twice with a woman. The chance to do something about that happened quickly; when April knocked on his door the very next night. "It’s Okay," she told him. "Father thinks I'm visiting a friend from church." Her tight T-shirt accentuated her E-cups perfectly. She was wearing a bra but April knew how to make the most of her chunky, short body. Tim would have agreed she was not as beautiful as her sister but April was desirable in her own way. His cock told him so, reacting instantly. And there was no need to guess why she'd showed up. "I don't want you to get into any trouble," he said. "And I don't know what your sister would say if she knew." "It’s Okay. I know you've fucked Summer already," was the breezy reply. Tim didn't bother to deny it this time. The idea didn't seem to upset April. It made her more determined to have her turn with the handsome Tim. And neither would resist the chance. A sweet young virgin who was gagging for sex was an opportunity Tim would not miss. And when April put her hand over his crotch, rubbing his cock through his jeans, he was sure that this was the night. "I brought condoms," April told him. "Ultra-thin. I hope I got it right." Tim silently smiled. It looked like this night would be his first time to experience a virgin. And in the bedroom April didn't wait to undress. She went to her knees, extracting Tim's seven inches of meat. "It’s so big," she whispered in awe; since it was the first cock she'd seen in the flesh. It went straight into her mouth, April trying to remember what she had learned from watching porn and from Tim's previous tutoring. He was as impressed by her eagerness as her skills and his generous moans encouraged April to suck more and swallow as much of his hard shaft as she thought wise. She knew to stroke the base with one hand as that, too, had been the subject of much study. The same porn viewing had shown her it was normal for the man to gently hold her head and guide her mouth over his cock. It was exciting when Tim ran his fingers through her blonde hair and started to thrust gently. April already knew that she wanted to try everything about sex. Which was just as well since Tim was concocting a plan. He knew that April was a virgin and way too willing. Likely she'd be willing to let him take the lead and he'd already decided how we would take advantage. He pulled April to her feet just long enough to strip her completely. "You have great tits," he told her. April was proud of her tits; even more so since Tim approved of them. It was a massive turn-on to have Tim hefting and massaging her E-cups. She responded with a soft moan, not knowing that Tim felt strongly that tits like hers should be enjoyed fully. "What if we tried tit fucking?" he suggested. She had no idea what that entailed but felt her breathing quicken as Tim positioned her, seated on the bed and facing him. April could hardly take her eyes off the hard, rampant cock. It stood so straight and tall. She saw the veins and ridges and the hairy sack hanging underneath. So much for her to explore.       He thought the same about her tits. Tim had never had his hands on a pair as big and juicy. They were soft and yet so firm with almost no hint of sag. That was the wonder of young, juicy women. They fit so easily around his cock and Tim added some saliva to help things along. He started to thrust, clumsily at first. That hardly mattered. Her huge tits were just as virginal as the rest of April and Tim felt his cock grow even harder as he took advantage of the willing blonde. April moaned louder as Tim squeezed her tits around his hard meat. It was exciting to have her body used for pleasure. "It feels so sexy," April sighed to him. She wanted to please Tim. He seemed to her a worldly man and April wanted him to give her everything that would make her a real woman. Having his cock thrusting between her tits was a wonderful new experience. She delighted at the way the head of his cock seemed ready to burst from between her big boobs. Looking down she saw the clear fluid leaking from the tip of his cock. "What's that?" "Pre-cum," he grunted between strokes. "Because your tits feel so good." April smiled at that. She knew just enough to realize that Tim was ready for fucking. And April was even more ready than he was. She did not want to wait. "I want you inside me, Tim. Please can we have sex?" And she meant it. April was determined to give her virginity to Tim. She'd strained against her religious upbringing, wondering when she might have an opportunity to give her all to the right man. "Lie down," he urged her gently. "Let me make sure you are wet enough." And when April gave him a quizzical look he reassured her. "Oral sex; you know, eating your pussy." In a flash she splayed her young legs for him, not caring that a man could see her bare cunt and perhaps even smell her arousal. Being eaten had been a serious fantasy for a long time. Tim did not disappoint either. The chubby virgin could not quite believe the exquisite pleasure of this once taboo act, writhing and crying out while Tim licked her entrance and lapped at her stony hard clitoris. Oral alone made the wait worthwhile and April knew then that she'd always want sex and that she would always need a man who would so willingly eat her out. She wasn't even sure when Tim had stopped, wondering if she had lost consciousness owing to the incredible, powerful orgasms he had provided. "Now you," she murmured. "I want to give you something. And I really need you inside me." Wanting to ensure Tim would give what she craved, April took him in her mouth once again. She knew this foreplay would make Tim determined to thrust himself into her hungry entrance. He reached for the condoms and gave April one last chance to back out. "Fuck me. Tim," she told him straight. "Don't make me wait any longer." She was tight but his cock slid easily past her entrance. Tim tried to appreciate what he was doing. His was the first cock to probe this cunt and April would never be the same again; no longer a virginal "good girl". But he was distracted by the delightful moans of April at last getting the fucking she craved so much. The thought of taking a man inside her was almost as good as the physical experience of penetration. His hard, thick cock opened her entrance in the most wonderful way and April heard herself make a new, strange sound. "Are you Okay?" Tim asked. "Yes. Sweet Mary, don't stop," she groaned. Having Tim's body above hers was as dream made real, his muscled arms holding his weight as she finally committed that beautiful, intimate act. His cock felt better than she'd imagined. It fit so perfectly inside her despite her silly fears. She could feel him open and stretch her as his meaty phallus plunged into her depths. She was ready for him to really thrust into her as she'd imagined so often while pleasuring herself. "You're tight," he muttered. "I can't get it all in." "Fuck me hard, Tim," she urged him. "Just go deep. It won't hurt." Hearing that, Tim realized that the young virgin underneath him still was intact. How foolish of him. He tried to ram forward and just like that he buried his thick cock into her cunt. April felt the small tearing and grimaced for a second. But Tim was deep inside her and the pain was bettered by knowing she was now a real woman. "Don't stop," she breathed to him. "Do whatever you want now." It took only a few more thrusts from Tim for April to start cumming. She almost regretted having waited yet she was thrilled to be experiencing sex with the handsome Tim. He seemed to know exactly what to do. His firm thrusting made her tits bounce in a lewd way and it excited her to have her body so out of control. The feeling of his cock was indescribable and she thought it must be God's will that such a mature, experienced man would be her first. Tim enjoyed his first virgin fuck very much. There was no pressure on him and April's cunt felt as good as any of the few he'd experienced. She'd given permission to fuck her hard and deep and he'd succeeded in making her blue-veined E-cups shake and bounce. And there was no mistaking her pleasure as she cried out orgasm after orgasm. Were all religious bitches so hot? "Cum, Tim. Cum," she cried out, eager to reward him He had no reason to miss the opportunity. April was not as pretty as her sister but very hot and sexy in her own way. Her sister; what man got to fuck two sisters on consecutive nights? He'd already gotten his rocks off the previous night so why hold back now? He felt his balls boiling as he thought more about spewing his semen into April's tight hole. Her tits were really bouncing as he began to pound into her. "Gonna cum inside you." "Yes, Tim. Yes; oh;” Tim let his lust overflow at that moment. He knew he was slamming harder into the once virginal hole. His cock was pulsing as jet after jet of semen flowed into the condom. And he was grunting loudly, pleased to show his own passion as he lay on top of April and took all the pleasure he could from her juicy body. She felt the triumph of a man unleashing his load inside her cunt. "Was that good?" she wanted to know. Tim wondered the same about her. "It was fabulous," she assured him. "I loved you fucking me hard." He was glowing as well in the aftermath of his conquest. It didn't matter that April would have chosen any man who was willing. Tim had fucked a virgin and he'd given her satisfaction. He only hoped that the two church-going sisters weren't done yet. Although he saw the sisters in the furniture store, neither of them made any effort to be alone with him for the next week. There were no unannounced visits to his flat. Tim wondered if they'd gotten what they wanted from him. Or was this part of their plan? if they had a shared plan. Tim supposed that he didn't mind either way. He'd ended his drought and fucked two sisters; pretty, blonde, church-going types who were juicy and surprisingly horny. The sisters weren't staying away completely. He still had chances to get a good look at Summer's sexy legs and April's juicy tits. And Mr. Karlsson appeared none the wiser. Tim was relieved about that. He did not need an angry father. Nor stories of his escapades getting back to the person who'd recommended him for this job. In fact, Mr. Karlsson had been spending a lot of time out of the store and Tim did wonder if there was a reason behind that. He forgot all that when there a sudden knock on his door one night. It had to be one of the sisters. He didn't know anyone else in the area. Opening the door, he was greeted by the sight of the younger one, April. Once again, she'd left no room for misunderstanding, wearing a short skirt and a very tight T-shirt. It was obvious that she was bra-less. There was no need to say anything. "I'm so horny for you," April blurted out before she was even through the door. "Horny for me or horny for a fuck?" he teased her with a grin. "Fuck me, Tim. I need it so bad." Tim almost tore her shirt off as he pulled her to the bedroom. Her juicy tits bounced as she walked and Tim knew his cock was already fully erect. April did not seem to require the usual niceties in order to agree to sex. He greedily sucked on her hard nipples and squeezed the soft, blue-veined orbs of the young woman. How could such an innocent seeming young woman not only carry such enormous tits but come to him practically naked? April was following Tim's lead, trying to get his clothes off as well. pretenses no pretense; she had wanted Tim's cock in her hand every hour of every day since they'd first had sex. "I love your big cock," she said with confidence as she began to stroke him.       It was important to remember what Tim had already taught her about touching a man's cock. She was desperate to do it right and moved her hand carefully along the shaft. His groans showed that she was a fast learner. And April allowed herself for the first time to study the ridges and veins that adorned her first specimen of the male appendage. April, only just twenty-one, had a lot of catching up to do. But she knew that the correct thing was to kneel in front of his cock; it felt so natural with a strong, handsome guy like Tim; and barely paused before resuming her joy of fellatio. Holding a man's erect cock between her lips was even better than she'd imagined. And the way Tim liked to thrust his hips, forcing himself further into her mouth, made the fun even more intense. Tim still could not believe his luck. Young April was on her knees sucking his cock and hungry for sex. He'd never had a girlfriend so eager. Perhaps only Summer could match her younger sister for lust. April's mouth fitted so well around his cock and he was proud that she thought it so magnificent. She was the chubbier sister but Tim did not mind that at all. Her huge tits were irresistible and he thought her just as pretty as he ran his hands though her blonde hair and indulged in fucking her sweet mouth. "Your turn," he said gently to April, keen to get her properly wet before he pumped his cock into her. "I shaved for you before I came over," she said with a shy grin. Tim would have enjoyed her soaking wet cunt anyway. But there was something extra hot about April preparing herself to be eaten. And this time she was even more relaxed and comfortable. The handsome guy's mouth felt even better on her intimate parts. April knew she was being noisy but she couldn't stop her cries as Tim caressed her clit, swirling and flicking his tongue, and explored her hot entrance. She'd never known that her body could produce such a string of orgasms. He'd driven her into a frenzy of lust. "Please fuck me, Tim. Please." April rolled onto her back as Tim put the condom on his cock. He knew she was wet and he knew she was hot for sex. It took only two thrusts to fully bury his shaft inside her hungry hole. "I love being fucked by you," she moaned to Tim as he began to move inside her. "I want to fuck you hard," he murmured and there was no objection from the sweet, young April. Missionary was not Tim's favorite position. Except that in the case of April it was the perfect way to watch her huge tits bounce and move as he began to fuck her hard and deep. A steady moan began from April as the handsome older guy began to ream her hole. April wan

The Gullible Neighbor: Part 2. Being a Study Partner with an innocent busty goddess.Based on a post by Magnus Bane Ragnor. Listen to the &#9658;Podcast at My First Time. &quot;Eh, Jim?&quot; &quot;Yes, Emma.&quot; &quot;I am so excited to study these techniques! Your mouth therapy did so much to improve my tense muscle constrictions. But I think your swelling is acting up again.&quot; said Emma, pointing at his crotch. Jim, still embarrassed by it, quickly tried to cover it up with his hands. &quot;Oh, it's nothing.&quot; said Jim assuring her. &quot;How is it nothing? Look, it is swelling like a balloon, I think it is getting worse! Why don't you remove your shorts and let me have a look.&quot; instructed Emma. Jim wasn't going to say 'no' to a woman like Emma, requesting to see his cock. He stood up, and in one motion removed his jogging shorts. His cock stood erect straight forward as a diving board bouncing up and down. &quot;Oh my, it looks worse than the last time, look how the head is all swollen purple.&quot; said Emma pitifully. Jim could only grunt in an affirmative manner, nodding his head. &quot;Here, let me massage it; like the last time. Sit here and let me help you out.&quot; Emma took hold of his stiff cock and with a thumb on his shaft and fingers underneath. She massaged in a circular motion with her thumb, from the base of his cock to the top. Lucky for Jim, he spent the whole last day whacking off to his vivid images of Emma, and not just doing research. He wasn't going to come anytime soon, even when he was so worked up. Emma kept at it for several minutes; changing hands when she got tired. But to her annoyance, it wasn't going down. &quot;Maybe, you should try the cupping method.&quot; suggested Jim. &quot;Right! That ought to do the trick.&quot; said Emma, enthusiastically. With that, Emma went on her knees on the floor scooted up close. She put her face along side his rod, and opened wide. She took him in from the side and started sucking on the shaft of Jim's cock, moving up and down, playing him like a harmonica. Jim couldn't say anything except incoherent words in the form of moans. Jim always kept his groin clean and shaved, so his balls weren't hidden under a layer of hair. Emma, noticing Jim's balls; gradually followed suit and started sucking on each of them, alternatively. Now it was Jim's turn to be bucking with each suck. Emma diligently continued sucking his balls. &quot;Try; uh; suck; uh; ing; uh the; uh; he; uh; head;&quot; managed Jim. Emma quickly moved up the cock, taking in the head and sucking on it, Jim put his hands on her head and slowly nudged her down, Emma, taking the cue; went deep, engulfing his whole cock. How Emma was able to do that without gagging, was something that didn't cross Jim's mind, because within seconds he was too busy shooting his jizz down Emma's throat. A spent Jim laid on the sofa, Emma wiped her mouth and slowly got up, smiling delightfully. Finally she pulled up another chair. Then, sitting down on his side hugging him, she was still naked, her tits squishing on his arm and chest. &quot;Oh look it finally went down, does it hurt less now.&quot; asked Emma. Jim, who was still in a trance of his orgasm. &quot;Huh? Un, oh yeah, thanks Emma, I feel a lot better now.&quot; &quot;You don't have to thank me, silly, It was my mistake. And even after that, you helped me out with this health class. You're the best.&quot; Jim managed a smile and just nodded. After a while they both dressed up and Jim took leave, Emma noticed as soon as Jim left, that he left his folder, she thought to return it back instantly, but decided she might have a look at it, and read up on what is next; to be better prepared tomorrow. Several of the print-outs used words like 'yoga,' and 'tantric.' The back pages started talking about release of energy and the power of touch, massage, and release of mind and body. The diagrams make reference to 'erogena' and 'erogenous'. Emma knew that the key to this method of healthier living involves proper training of some key areas of her body. Her childhood modesty had prevented any healthy development in this aspect. In fact, she had to overcome significant shame, in order to advance her training. Emma decided she could trust Jim, and would fully commit to this regimen. Taking it to another level. At 8am The next morning, Jim opened the newly arrived box, he has recently placed an overnight order on Amazon for his gullible neighbor. Hoping this will make her go all the way. It was slightly expensive for something as mundane as it was, but The Loop wellness website, by Pwyneth Galtrow; sure likes ripping people off. Later that morning, Jim made sure he was the initiating one, going to Emma. He didn't want her to think he was losing his enthusiasm to teach her. Jim arrived at Emma's house at 9am, hoping to catch her early enough in the day. He rang the doorbell. Emma opened the door wearing a tank top, which barely encased her bra-less boobs, and a short loose skirt which didn't cover anything beyond her crotch. Jim was wearing his usual jogging shorts and a white t-shirt, and left the underwear home because he knew it was always rewarding for him. &quot;Hi! Jim. Are we starting the session now?&quot; &quot;Hi Emma! Yeah, I was hoping we could start. I didn't want to be a late-ass like the other day.&quot; &quot;Oh! Don't bother about it Jim. After how much you have helped me, I have got to say; I slept a lot better last night. It might be your cupping techniques.&quot; &quot;Er; Thanks Emma, and I am always happy to help anyone who wants help leading a healthier life, Shall we get started then?&quot; &quot;Yeah sure, come right in, what's in the box though?&quot; &quot;Oh! this, I got something to help with our lessons today.&quot; &quot;My my, Jim. That's very considerate of you, Remind me of however I can repay you.&quot; 'Considering what we are doing, I should pay you.' thought Jim. &quot;Never mind paying me back, it's lovely to help you out.&quot; said Jim. &quot;Oh, you're such a gem, Jim.&quot; exclaimed Emma. Advance Tantra. Jim placed the box on the table and proceeded to open it, inside it were a multitude of bottles and other boxes, but what he was looking for, was a small silk pouch. As soon as he found the pouch, he pocketed it and turned to face Emma. &quot;We will start off with the basic exercises first, to get your muscles going and warm up a little.&quot; said Jim. &quot;Okay, what should I do first?&quot; asked Emma. &quot;We can start off with squats, or push ups? Whatever you like.&quot; said Jim. With that Emma nodded her head, and assumed the standard position for squats, arms outstretched forward, legs a little apart, and down she went. Jim admired her tight ass, he casually placed his hands on her sides and made her jutting out towards him, &quot;Yeah, that's right, that's the perfect position.&quot; encouraged Jim. Emma did 30 reps of squats. &quot;Now you can stop.&quot; Jim said. Emma stopped squatting, Jim started poking her ass, &quot;Hmm; that's right; Going good; I see your posterior has become toned even with such little work. We can make great progress if we keep at it.&quot; said Jim. &quot;That's wonderful.&quot; cheered Emma, &quot;What should we do next?&quot; &quot;We should move on to some push ups.&quot; &quot;Um; I am not very good at it, Jim.&quot; &quot;No problem, I will help you.&quot; said Jim. With that Emma assumed the position and started doing some push-ups. Sure enough after 4 push-ups, Emma was showing signs of struggle, &quot;Here, let me help you.&quot; said Jim. Jim straddled Emma, his legs on either side of her, his crotch inches away from her ass, He took hold of Emma's torso, directly below her tits and pulled her just a little to offer support. Every time Emma went down, Jim's hand moved a bit up over her big bust. After 4 more, he was pulling Emma up by her tits, he was sure to cop a squeeze out of them now and then. He could feel Emma's nipples poking directly on his palms. &quot;Okay, that's enough, you can get up now.&quot; said Jim. Emma's tank top has been stretched, thanks to Jim's help, and lowered, exposing a deep cleavage, Emma hardly noticed it, still huffing and puffing from the push-ups. Jim proceeded to poke Emma's chest just like he did to her ass to &quot;assess&quot; the progress. Since, the push-ups were a little too intense, Emma's chest had actually become taut, the muscles had tightened up, and when Jim poked them, it hurt Emma. &quot;Ouch!?&quot; &quot;What happened?&quot; said a concerned Jim. &quot;It hurts when you poke like that, it didn't happen when you did to my um; posterior, but it is happening here.&quot; &quot;Oh that's nothing, it just means your muscles are all worked up to the maximum, that's what we want, but we should also work on the recovery process.&quot; &quot;And how are we going to do that?&quot; &quot;With this.&quot; said Jim, moving towards the box on the table and taking out a bottle. &quot;Oh, what is this?&quot; inquired Emma. &quot;This is an essential oils bottle, there are many extracts of various plants squeezed right into one to give you the ultimate benefits.&quot; explained Jim. &quot;That sounds nice, but how is this going to help me.&quot; asked Emma. &quot;I am going to massage this on your body, that's how it is going to help you recover.&quot; &quot;Right! Silly me.&quot; said Emma. &quot;Okay, let me apply some on your chest then.&quot; &quot;Sure go ahead.&quot; said Emma. Jim took a few drops of the oil, and started massaging Emma's chest in circular motion, slowly moving outwards, then his hands went up towards her throat, and down to her cleavage, he started massaging her chest in a V Formation, moving towards the tank top, as soon as he reached near them, Jim said, &quot;Emma, I am not able to massage your whole chest and the tank top is in the way and I don't want the oil to mess it up.&quot; &quot;Oh, no problem Jim. Here, let me remove it.&quot; said Emma, Emma flipped her tank pulling from the waistline, over her head, she wasn't wearing any brassiere, and her tits were out in the open, now she was just in a skin tight short standing in front of Jim, Jim was still in a trance even after feasting on the same tits less than 2 days ago. The magnificent nature of Emma's tits haven't dulled one bit. &quot;Right;, Um! Let's continue with the massage.&quot; Jim managed. Jim took some more oil and started massaging freely over the redhead's tits, with the tank top gone, he had a free reign, he palmed both her tits and massaged them to his hearts content, occasionally flipping the nipples or twisting them, Emma was visibly worked up over this, her face was all red, and she was heaving loudly. Jim had to reluctantly move away his hands to proceed to the next exercise. &quot;That's it Emma, feel any better?&quot; &quot;I feel great Jim, thanks for that.&quot; &quot;Oh, don't thank me yet, we aren't done yet, we should move on to working your abdominals, some crunches might do.&quot; said Jim. Emma laid down on the floor, placing her fingers on the sides of her temple, she started doing crunches, her boobs flailing, and smashing each other whenever she comes up and spilling to her sides as she went down, Jim let this continue on for about 2 min, when he could see Emma visibly struggling to do any more crunches, he said; &quot;That will do for now. Do your abdominals hurt the same way as your chest?&quot; &quot;Uh huh, they do, even more so, I guess.&quot; complained Emma. &quot;That's nothing to worry about, as I told you before; it is your body responding to the exercise.&quot; assured Jim. &quot;Oh, okay Jim, are we going to use the oil on my gut, too?&quot; questioned Emma. &quot;Yeah, we are going too do that.&quot; With that Jim knelt down near Emma's abdomen, and took a few drops in his hands. As he was about to massage her, he noticed that the shorts she was wearing were high above her belly button. &quot;Er, Emma, I won't be able to apply oil on your abs when your short are in the way.&quot; said Jim. &quot;Oh, so silly of me, I completely forgot.&quot; said Emma. She put her thumbs in the elastic waistband of the shorts and lifting her hips off the ground, gave the shorts a few good folds. The raised hips were close to Jim's chin and he could notice the few crimson pubic hairs that he had munched on, just the other day. Despite that, all of this was having an obvious effect on him, making him hard as a rock. He snapped out of his trance when Emma lowered her hips. &quot;Um, okay, that will do. Let me get on with the massage now.&quot; said Jim. Jim rubbed her tummy and navel in a to and fro motion, alternately from both hands, his right hand close to Emma's tit, giving it a light jiggle every time he went up or down. Then after a while, he changed his technique from to and fro; to the circular motion with his right hand in anticlockwise direction, now definitely hitting Emma's tits, making them flail a lot more than before, Jim couldn't keep this up for long, because his plans entailed a lot more than just massaging and coping a feel of her tits. &quot;Okay, that completes our phase for this body part we can move on to the next phase, we will do lunges now.&quot; said Jim. Emma started with the on the spot lunges, one leg at a time, Jim was waiting for the exact moment, if he was correct, it would happen in a minute. And sure enough, as soon as Emma went on her right leg, she couldn't get up. It was as if Emma's leg didn't have anymore strength to pull her up. That was what Jim was waiting for. By letting her do squats first, Jim had strained her thighs. Now lunges strained her glutes and hamstrings. There was no way she could exercise her legs anymore. &quot;Jim? I am stuck here! It feels like my legs don't have any strength anymore.&quot; panicked Emma. &quot;Not to worry, Emma, try bending forward and using your hands to lay on your belly, I'll massage your legs to make you feel better.&quot; said Jim. With Emma lying, Jim moved forward and quickly pulled her shorts down and off her legs. He could see that Emma wasn't wearing any underwear either. Probably the lesson from yesterday had a deeper impact on her than he thought. He took some more oil and started massaging her ass. Opening her crack, he poured a few drops on her puckered hole as well, and closed it, He was just testing his waters, Emma didn't even flinch to it. She seemed like she was enjoying it. After her ass, Jim moved to her hamstrings, and started massaging them, he was careful to not touch her cunt this time, for the next phase. &quot;That should take care of the pain, now stand and tell me how you feel.&quot; said Jim. Emma stood up. Buck naked, but now so comfortable in Jim's company, that she was unaware of her complete exposure. &quot;It feels amazing, and that was some serious magical oil! One moment I am not even able to do anything, and now it is like it never happened. You're seriously amazing, Jim.&quot; said Emma. Emma hugged Jim in delight, squishing her tits in his chest, Jim could hold his excitement, but his cock was straining in his shorts, it was lucky that Emma didn't notice it, Jim reluctantly let go of Emma. &quot;Oh fuck, I am so sorry Jim, I didn't mean for this to happen, I completely forgot.&quot; Emma said, pointing at his shirt. Jim looked down to see his shirt were stained with oil, and they were stained in the shape of Emma's tits. &quot;Oh don't worry about it, you didn't mean to do that, I'll just remove it.&quot; said Jim removing his white T-shirt, leaving Jim in just his shorts. Stones of Stress. &quot;The next phase is a little tricky, and you might have never done it; but bear with me and you'll be benefited greatly.&rdquo; Saying this, Jim took out a small string pouch from his pocket and green stone, the stone had a hole in it and had a long egg like shape, more vertically long than horizontally. &quot;What is that, Jim? Looks like a stone.&quot; asked Emma. &quot;The green stone is a jade egg, and the pouch has small crystals that act as weights, and have some energy that helps the body, we use the string on the pouch and tie it through this hole in the jade egg, this is used for specific exercises for pelvic muscles and develop core strength.&quot; explained Jim. &quot;Okay, so which body part does it train, and how can I use it?&quot; asked Emma. &quot;Very well. Sit on this chair will you? And then I will demonstrate.&quot; instructed Jim. Emma sat down on the chair facing him, Jim knelt in front of Emma and parted her legs. He pointed the jade egg towards her labia and said. &quot;We use the jade egg and push it inside your vagina. The pouch string is attached to the stone through this hole, here. You have to keep the jade egg inside while doing squats. This helps build your core strength and train your pelvic muscles. When it becomes easier, we add more crystals in the pouch to increase the weight.&quot; explained Jim. &quot;That sounds insane! But I feel like it makes a lot of sense, since it involves lifting a little weight to train the muscles, I'll try it out.&quot; said Emma. &quot;Great! Let me put in the jade egg inside you, and then we can move forward.&quot; said Jim. Emma slid her ass to the edge of the chair, slouching back. Jim parted her lips with his index finger and thumb of his left hand, he could clearly see the wet pink pussy of her. It was mesmerizing, the musky smell was immediately in his nostrils. He placed the jade egg on the entrance, making Emma flinch a little because of the cold stone. He slowly pushed the egg inside, Emma's cunt was wet but not wet enough for the stone to go inside, Jim tried a few times to no avail, then he took the bottle of oil, and coated the jade egg with it, then he dropped a liberal amount of oil on her vagina too; and used his fingers to massage over it, occasionally using one finger to get oil inside her. After a few minutes of this, he was finally able to freely move his finger inside her and back out. He tried with the jade egg and sure enough, it went straight in, part of the reason was, Emma actually getting all worked up with Jim's fingering on her pussy. Her face was all red and she was breathing heavily. Now with the jade egg inside her, Jim removed all but one crystal from the pouch. &quot;Okay, now you can stand up and try to squat without dropping the jade egg out of your vagina.&quot; said Jim. Standing up, Emma tried to tighten her ass and cunt, so as to avoid slipping the jade egg from her pussy, she tried squatting very slowly, because each moment she moved, she felt like the jade egg was slipping away. She was on her 5th squat when Jim said. &quot;Okay, now I'll add another crystal to the pouch.&quot; Adding a little stone to the pouch might not seem much, but Emma was already showing signs of struggle, her pelvic muscles were cramping up a little, she somehow managed to do 3 more with the added weight. When Jim added another crystal without warning, it resulted in a squeal from Emma. &quot;Jim, I don't think I can do it anymore.&quot; pleaded Emma. &quot;Don't give up now, Emma, you're so close, just one more, okay?&quot; encouraged Jim. Emma was able to do 2 more but at the 3rd squat, she just fell to her knees. &quot;Are you okay, Emma?&quot; &quot;Ow ow ow ow ow ow; it feels like a stabbing pain in my vagina, it feels like it is contracting inside me, folding on itself.&quot; cried Emma. &quot;Okay, let me help you up to the sofa and we'll see what we can do to ease up the pain.&quot; said Jim. Jim reached around from behind Emma's back, and grabbed under her two big tits, then hefted her up enough to pull her torso over, onto the sofa.hoisted Emma by the shoulder and almost dragged her to the sofa. &quot;Let me take a look at your vagina.&quot; said Jim. Emma, spread eagle on the sofa, with the pouch hanging from her vagina with a cord. Jim slowly pulled the string, to take out the jade egg from her vagina; but it only resulted in a scream from Emma. &quot;Okay, let me massage the area around it first, with the oil; so that it relaxes up a bit. And then I can take out the jade egg.&quot; announced Jim. <

The Flu: A Pandemic Escape on a Sex Farm Lusty young immigrants escape global plague on a Wisconsin farm. By MVP6. &nbsp;Listen to the&nbsp;&#9658;&nbsp;Podcast at&nbsp;Steamy Stories. Ustin and Manon met while on holiday in Prague and fell in love at first sight. Ustin was Russian and Manon was French. He loved Manon's impulsive ways and she loved his strong resilience. They were the poster-couple for young beauty, love, and little more than dreams. Other than the language of love the only words they shared in common were a smattering of Portuguese. Nevertheless, theirs was a whirlwind romance ending in engagement after two short weeks. They were back in Shuvalovka by the end of the next week, getting married the very next morning. That was the day a letter arrived from Manon's uncle in America whom she had only met once as a small girl. Neither of them could read English and when they had it interpreted they learned that he had passed away and left them a small dairy farm in Wisconsin, a plane ticket, and a French/English phrase book. Ustin sold his '64 Zaporozhet, emptied his bank account, and liquidated all his assets, which were not worth much since the collapse of the Russian stock market. Together they had enough to buy another plane ticket and embarked that same morning. Manon was seated in first class while Ustin was relegated to third class, but they were overjoyed at least to be on the same plane. If they had known about the mile high club there is no doubt that they would have consummated their, as yet, unconsummated marriage. Alas they were just thrilled to be starting a new life together. Their plan being to first establish financial security, and only then to have children. When they arrived in Milwaukee Ustin was worried that they wouldn't have enough money left to take a cab to their new farm - let alone buy anything to eat, and he did his best to communicate that to Manon. She had no cares about food, being so engrossed in her new role as blushing bride. But she was very worried, for no good reason, that if Ustin did not take her virginity officially as a married couple that they would be deported. She had spent the whole flight looking through her phrasebook trying to find the right words for &quot;deflowering.&quot; By the time she told Ustin what she wanted and he tried to look it up using his recently purchased English/Russian phrasebook, what he understood was that she wanted him to weed her cat. He just smiled weakly and drew her close in a warm embrace, but since she was pointing frantically to her pussy, he imagined that 'weeding the cat' meant she wanted him to bury his face in her pubes as soon as possible. He had no objection to throwing her back on their new honeymoon bed the first instant they arrived in Cambridge, WI to then 'graze the watercress,' which would have been the french way to say it if any of the risque words at all had been in his phrasebook, or if either of them owned a Russian/French phrasebook. Full of excitement and fear they held hands, as only new lovebirds would, and never let go until he carried her across the threshold. True to his understanding of her expectations Ustin promptly carried Manon to the bed, threw up her dress, and lapped studiously at her moist nether lips until she, taking a fistful of hair in each hand, pulled him up. She could taste her own pussy on his lips and it turned her on, though Ustin would not know that for quite a while, and at the moment, he was put off because she was rummaging around in her purse - trying to retrieve some condoms. Their first time as newlyweds in their new home was amazing as they explored each other's bodies and each other's desires. Perhaps it was even better as they could barely talk and they needed to rely on moans and smiles that much more to know what the other liked. Next they explored the farm and discovered that they had inherited a dairyless dairy farm. If they could have read English they would have found the letter from the animal control officer at the police department telling dead Uncle Charles that all the animals had been impounded because they were being neglected and that they would be returned after a hefty fine was paid. Still, they were the proud owners of a farmhouse, a barn, a shed and a few miscellaneous buildings on about ten acres of beautiful midwest rolling fields, and they fucked in each building as well as in the middle of the fields the first week. That first year was a year of unbridled sex which at least once included a zuchinni from the garden that Manon had planted so they could set up a farmers market and earn some money to buy cows. No one ever came to their market as they were a bit out of the way, but Manon did manage to can about two hundred pounds of vegetables and store the jars in the tornado shelter. One day they were passing the empty mink cages which came with the farm and Ustin was grinning stupidly and gesturing rudely that they should make like the minks and screw wildly. Always ready, Manon grinned, and that was all it took. They shed their shirts rapidly, then impulsively Manon decided it would be fun to climb the ladder up to the loft. Shaking her skirt she beckoned, &quot;Attrapez-moi.&quot; Then wiggling her butt enticingly she flashed her cunt to her dear husband and he scrambled up as fast as he could, sticking his nose amid her aromatic cleft from underneath her on the ladder every time he caught up. Playing the game she would let him lick her puss for a few minutes each time before scrambling further up the rackety ladder. They were a very orally inclined couple, which worked in their favor whenever they were far from the bedroom, where they kept their limited, and expensive, supply of condoms. Rolling in the proverbial hay, soon enough they were pleasuring each other simultaneously. For the first time ever she saw another person's back door. Glimpsing his tight bung briefly she wasn't grossed out, rather, she was worried that he would see hers and that he would be grossed out. Likewise, Ustin did see hers but his only thought was, &quot;It's surprising that it's not a turn off.&quot; They still finished each other off taking the time to burrow into each other's privates at length. Unfortunately, it was later when they jumped down from the loft naked, that they both sprained an ankle and found themselves housebound for a couple of weeks. It was also one of the best things that could have happened to them. Not only did they recline in each other's arms all day and make love often, but they couldn't make any trips into town which had, unknown to them, quickly taken a dangerous turn. A flu pandemic had begun that day they kissed each others' sex parts in the loft and it was spreading rapidly to anyone who was unlucky enough to interact with just about anyone. By day two, 20% of the nation had what was not an ordinary flu and some with weakened systems were already developing pneumonia or dying from other complications. By day five, and unknown to the young lovers, the TV they rarely watched, was advising all citizens to stay home and warning that the health department would be out culling chickens who were the source of the flu. The frisky couple never even knew that the army-green jeeps and an old commandeered truck, arrived to kill and pick up chickens. You see, at the time Manon was bent over an odd apparatus in the water-shed with Ustin's tongue delicately circling and stabbing at her cute pink asshole. Anilingus was minutes new to both of them since they had just discovered it. They didn't even know what it was called in any language let alone with any shared words. Only two hours before They had been wandering the North pasture when it started to drizzle and they happened upon the stone structure built over a stream. Inside they found an odd mechanism and with some experimentation figured out that it's purpose was to divert the stream so it flowed either East or West. That's not really relevant to the story. What was pivotal was that, while turning a large wheel made from a barrel, Manon had fallen prone across the device and screamed out as she slipped. Ustin, with his developing English, misunderstood her emerging English. Thinking she had blurted out something meaning, &quot;Tongue my ass&quot; as she threw herself over the barrel, he decided it was a brilliant suggestion and put himself to the delightful task immediately. Meanwhile, finding herself in danger of being rolled over to the other side she shrieked joyfully when he grabbed her by the hips. She was totally shocked, but pleasantly surprised, when with a pucker he kissed her sensitive sphincter. She didn't know enough about sex to think it either mundane or bizzare. After the first swipe at her delicate brownie he asked, &quot;Da?&quot; She spoke that much Russian, and he knew enough French to throw himself into the act when she replied, &quot;Oui! Oui!&quot; Together the lovers learned that they really craved the act, so he spent a considerable amount of time just licking her gratified asshole. Ustin was thinking, &quot;Amazing how every part of my girl is so sexy, from her smile to her toes, she's the best. It's strange how even her shitter turns me on. A woman's pussy is an obvious and natural object to worship with its enticing odor and soft lips. But for as much as I love to nibble and bite, pulling on her labia, it's just as great to get my lips on her arse.&quot; &quot;Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine that I would lick a girl's butt, but Manon is so special and her crinkled ring just draws me in.&quot; He took a deep inhalation, &quot;Marvelous! Even her ass smells good. Earthy and musty but fresh. I want more.&quot; He decided to run his tongue around it in circles, feeling the tiny donut shape. &quot;It's incredible how this majestic feast normally has such a base function. I can't get over the rubbery firm texture - so different from her kiska.&quot; He wondered if he could get his tongue inside like he did when he ate her quim. Backing off a few inches he used his fingers to massage her perineum and anus. Then getting one thumb on either side he stretched it out barely able to see inside. &quot;OK let's see if I can get my tip in there. If it's ever gonna taste bad, now will be the time.&quot; Talking out loud he spoke to himself in Russian, &quot;Are you ready Ustin?&quot; Listening to him talk to himself back there, Manon had her own conversation going even if it consisted almost entirely of mewling moans and delighted sighs. In perfect Portuguese she whimpered the most appropriate phrase she could think of that he would know, &quot;Do you like your dinner?&quot; Ustin laughed out loud, breaking the mood of raw sexuality briefly. Then also in Portuguese he answered, &quot;You are a most hospitable host.&quot; Then returned to his quest to meld his mouth with her rectum. He formed his tongue into a point then poked. Manon squealed, lifting her bum. He barely got any in her but wanting to have a penetrative experience he rubbed two lanky fingers along her newly stubbled puss, In broken English he asked, &quot;You want me finger to your mog?&quot; She had no idea what he meant but she was willing to surrender herself to whatever he desired. To express her openness she relied again on a Portuguese phrase, &quot;My house is your house.&quot; Wetting two of his fingers, with the unpracticed thrust of one fairly new to sex, he jammed them fully up her fanny. She jumped in surprise, partly due to the sudden vaginal intrusion but mostly because she was expecting him to slide a single finger up what she would have called her trou du cul. He continued to lap at her starfish fucking her gash with his fingers. He became engrossed in the crude pastime letting his lust carry him away. When her body went tense he worried that he was hurting her in his wild sexual frenzy, then realized she was having an orgasm from the combined anilingus and fingerbanging. Overjoyed to have found a new way to bring her off he fell back on his haunches, satisfied. Coming down from her high, Manon wanted to do something for him now. Turning around she fell to the floor with her back to the wheel. She beckoned for Ustin to stand before her, pulling him by the cock. Manon was hardly more experienced than Ustin in the ways of sex. Her one previous boyfriend had wanted to face-fuck her which she had not allowed. But now she wanted to give all of herself, in every way, to this man she loved. She formed a circle with her left thumb and forefinger then using the forefinger from her other hand she made the universal gesture for fucking. Ustin stepped forward presenting his hard cock to her mouth. But she wasn't done yet. Next using the same gesture she slammed her finger into the circle violently hoping to communicate what she was offering. He was sure he was reading her wrong and definitely didn't want to hurt the woman he loved. But she insisted saying, &quot;Bes moi! Bes moi! Bes moi!&quot;, pounding on the barrel. He moved even closer inserting his swollen cock into her mouth. They were both full of expectation as she grabbed his thighs pulling him deeply into the back of her mouth quickly. Towing above her, with his hands on the barrel, he was thrilled that he had married such a sexual wife. They were both mistaken and they learned it the hard way. Manon gagged and sputtered completely unable to accomplish what she'd imagined she would do for him. He pulled out, falling to his knees. Looking into her teary eyes he rained penitent kisses all over her tortured face. They both apologized to each other profusely in their respective languages and they both understood intuitively what the other meant. After hugs of reconciliation she regained her composure. She pointed to her lips saying, &quot;R essayons&quot; As thrilled as he had been a moment before to be married to such a sexpot he was a thousand times more thrilled now to be married to a more naive girl who loved him so selflessly. Standing up he stroked her face gently before presenting his now softened organ to her. She drew his dick into her mouth, inexpertly sucking on the first couple inches until she was rewarded with her first taste of cum. Looking down on her, awestruck, as she swallowed, there was never a more earnest feeling of admiration communicated from one human to another. Afterwards they held each other. Now, if they had brought condoms with them they might have just screwed and been done with it. But then they would have returned to the farmhouse much earlier and met the infected visitors. The national guard found no chickens and left without incident, doing no more damage than nailing a poster to the front door that Ustin had so carefully painted red with a stylish and artistic barn-star. One morning, '&#1050;&#1086;&#1090;&#1077;&#1085;&#1086;&#1082;', or 'kitten', as Ustin called her woke him with a fantastic and more practiced blowjob, then wiping her lips with the back of her hand, lazily rolled over to turn on the TV for the first time in a while. Slowly it dawned on them both that something was terribly wrong with the outside world. Secluded in their own little love nest they did not know that 40% of the population had gotten sick and they did not realize that 80% of the sick had died. While they knew little English they understood the terrifying math perfectly. Additionally, the images on TV painted a horrible picture of what was happening which to them seemed like the end of the world. That was also the same day that, first the TV, and then the electricity went out. By the 15th day of the pandemic there were no more airplanes in the sky and even several miles away from the main part of Cambridge the world was eerily silent by day and oddly dark at night. Manon and Ustin held each other close during the long nights and clung to each other as they had never done before. The house was cold and they cuddled for warmth as much as for reassurance. Kitten cried bitterly and refused to let Ustin walk into town to see what was happening, so he stayed home rather than drag her along, hanging onto his arms, which is what she would have done to stop him. Instead with his shirt off he worked up a sweat and an appetite cutting firewood to heat the house at night. Manon hugged him from behind as he took a break enjoying the slipperiness of his sexy body glistening and tanned in the sun. The electric water pump hadn't worked in weeks and they both smelled musky but then again they had learned to appreciate the various smells produced by their young and hard sexy bodies. Her tiny hand reached into his zipper and worked his hefty growing member into a full state of arousal. She pressed her firm and pert boobs against his back while he reached back and held her waist. Out by the fallen log,and yet again lacking any birth control, she turned, then rubbed his pre-cumm slicked foreskin sheathed cock against her rear door to communicate her intent... The next day they walked to the water-shed carrying a water bucket and wearing nothing but shoes, then made sad, sweet love, again on the barrel, as much to connect as to relieve tension, worry, and, a touch of lust, that wouldn't go away even in those dire times. The next couple of weeks they imagined the worst. Thinking they were the only couple left on earth, a modern day 'Adam and Eve,' they toiled hard all day long working the incomplete farm to make provisions for the winter. They continued to make love every night to cement their love as much as for any other reason. They began to make forays away from the farm to see what they could learn. The nearest neighbor's house was a mile and a half away; nothing was there. Depressed and numb they walked further toward town not even remembering to put on clothes as they had become accustomed, in the early fall heat and lacking air conditioning, to go nude. Nearing another house they again found no one, but seeing some wash on the line, they realized they should dress. Nothing fit and they shared a fit of hysterical laughter to break the somber mood. Deeply disheartened they went home without walking the last ten miles into town, discarding the ridiculous and comical clothing as they went. The next morning, just before sunrise &#1050;&#1086;&#1090;&#1077;&#1085;&#1086;&#1082; woke Usty and pulled him outside to be a witness to the new day. She had a small spade with her and as solemnly as she could buried all their remaining condoms. Offering him a page torn from his phrasebook he saw that she had circled the word &quot;repopulate.&quot; After a lunch of kislaya kapusta also known as sauerkraut, they disrupted their routine of constant work to do what they had never done before; vaginal sex without protection.

Home Sex EducationStepbrother Introduces me to Handy Orgasms. by&nbsp;tinman69s. Listen to the &#9658; Podcast at Steamy Stories. My name is Debbie and I am now 22 years old and a senior at college and single, thank goodness! This is my last year here at college and I sure do hate to leave here. But that is another story! First, I want to tell you about my initiation into womanhood, if you want to call it that.My Mom and Dad divorced when I was about 17 years old. After a couple of years, my Mom re-married. We moved into my step-dad's house. My step-dad was a really nice guy and he had a good-looking son who lived with him. The only problem there was that he really didn't want anything to do with me (because "I was in the way" and 'a pain"). Anyway, my step-dad's house was a two-story one, with a basement. The basement had been finished and Gary had his bedroom and bathroom down there. That was fine with me because that gave me the whole upstairs to myself. Gary, my step-brother, went to the local tech school and worked part-time to pay for his car. He did have a really cool car, a Camaro, jet black, mag wheels, T-tops, loud mufflers and a good stereo system in it. I really liked the car, but Gary wouldn't let me run around with him because I was "too young". Other than that, he and I got along really good. About a year or so after we moved in there, I was having a problem with some of my homework, and Mom and "Dad" were out, so I went downstairs to see if Gary could help me with my math. As I walked thru the game room to Gary's bedroom, I could hear his music playing and I figured he was still up and maybe studying too. Well, being the young teen that I was, I just pushed the door open, without knocking, and almost fainted!!! Gary was sitting on his bed with a "girlie" magazine beside him and he was playing with his "Thing"!!!! I almost choked, and he heard me. He jumped up and tried to get his "thing" back in his shorts, but he was fumbling too much. I guess I scared him and he yelled at me to "Get out"! But I couldn't move, I was just staring at his "thing". I had heard other girls talking about what they looked like, but I had never seen one. Gary yelled again for me to get out but I just shook my head "no" still staring! I guess he realized suddenly that he might be in big trouble if I should say anything to my Mom or his Dad about what I caught him doing. I moved my focus to the magazine (he must have forgotten about it being there on the bed) and I walked over and picked it up. The girl in the magazine was really beautiful and naked and had two fingers in her privates!! I, of course, didn't understand this. I looked up at Gary, (who had finally gotten "it" back into his shorts;) and just pointed at the girl in the photo and where her hand was. I still had not said a word! Gary took the magazine and closed it and said "Debbie, I'm sorry, Please don't tell on me. I'll be grounded for life! And Dad might take my car keys away from me. Please?" After looking at the picture and seeing his thing hanging out, I was feeling kinda funny. A feeling I had not had before. But I gathered my senses and got brave and said to him "Gary, I've heard the girls talking, especially in the locker room, about boy's private parts, but I've never seen one up close. And I want to see yours! So if you will sit down and let me look at it good, I won't tell anyone what happened, I promise." Gary looked at me for a moment and said "Promise-Hope to die?" I said "Yes Gary, Hope to die." Gary sat down on the bed and pulled it back out of his shorts, but now it wasn't stiff like it was when he was playing with it. I asked him, "What happened to it, why is it not stiff anymore?" He said "Debbie, Can I call you Sis? I've always wanted a little sister." I agreed he could. "Now tell me about your thing, what happened to it?" I said. Gary tried as best he could to explain it to me in really nice terms, about how it gets excited and when it gets excited, it gets stiff and hard and grows a little bit. So I said "Show me how it does it." Gary started pulling the skin back and forth on it. And shortly it started getting stiffer! I liked that! It was interesting! So I said, "Gary, can I see if I can get it more excited?" He agreed and I took it in my hand and started pumping on it back and forth. And it got very hard and stiff. "Um I did this!! I got it excited!" I thought. Gary laid back on the bed and said "Oh Sis, that feels so good!!" He started moaning, and I stopped immediately and said "Gary, am I doing something to hurt you?" Gary said, "Oh Sis, you are doing fine. Sit down and wrap your hand around it and jerk it up and down faster." It was a very curious thing because shortly he was moving his butt up and down and moaning real loud. I slowed down and he said "No Sis, please, don't stop, it feels so very good, just keep jerking it for me." So I did! I was jerking the skin up and down hard and fast like he wanted. Then he reached over beside him on the bed and handed me a washcloth and said "Cover the top and your hand, honey." He had called me "honey", he had never done that before and I liked that. But I couldn't see what I was doing so I lifted the cloth and just as I did it squirted some kind of goo all up in the air and on me and on the bed. Gary by then had wrapped his hand around mine and was jerking it up and down fast and moaning really loud! I didn't count how many times it squirted that stuff out but it was a lot! And what a mess!! Then Gary's hand fell to his side and he just laid there. I took the cloth and wiped my hand and my clothes and then handed it to Gary and said "Gary, that wasn't nice, did you piss on me on purpose?" Gary raised up and hugged me (he had never done that either) and said "Thanks little sis, you did great and no, that wasn't piss, it was CUM. It is what happens when you have an orgasm. And an orgasm is what happens at the end of sex. Or in this case, jacking off." I said "Oh yea, I've heard that term used-the girls say they jack off their boyfriends. But I didn't know what that was, but I have learned by doing it to you!" "Yea Sis, you learn fast too, you did really good for me. Now promise me again that no-one will ever hear about this." He said. I said "OK big brother, but on one condition.." And I saw it on his face-he was afraid I would want to run around with him in his car. But then I said "I want you to teach me more about sex. I want to learn and I want you to teach me." He looked like I had kicked him or something. I said "Is it a deal or not?" He smiled and hugged me again and said "Sis, if that is what you really want, we'll do it. But you can't use this on your boyfriend yet. You are still too young to be having sex." I said ok and he handed me his magazine and said "Read through this and then tell me if you have any questions on what you see and learn, OK? And keep it hidden well!" I agreed and got up and started back upstairs and then I remembered why I had come downstairs in the first place. So I told him and he helped me and I thanked him and went back upstairs. When I was back in my room, in bed, and getting ready to go to sleep, I kept thinking about the girl in the magazine and what she was doing to herself and what I had just done with Gary. So I thought I would try what she was doing and see what the big deal was. So I tried to stick two fingers inside my pussy, but it hurt! So I decided to wet them in my mouth and try it again. It was a little easier and I moved them a little, and pretty quickly, it got much easier to move them. I was getting wet down there and so I pushed them in further and worked them around a little and in and out and it started feeling really good!! And then, quite by accident, my thumb hit my clitoris and then I knew why the girl was doing it! This was an awesome feeling, and I didn't want to stop doing it-it felt too good! I kept doing it and the more I did it the better it felt and soon I was wiggling my butt all over the place and then I thought I was going to explode!! I could not stop now if I wanted to and then I wanted to scream and wanted to put my whole hand inside me. I jerked my pillow around and bit on it to muffle my screams, and then some kind of fluid came rushing out!! "Just like it did from Gary", I thought. But the bad part was it only lasted for maybe a half a minute and then it was over. But it was the best feeling I had ever had!. And now I was tired, so I just left my hand in my panties and I just like "died" asleep. I felt so good after that orgasm! About three weeks had gone by and I had studied Gary's magazine from cover to cover. Some of that stuff was pretty weird to me! Then one night as I was getting into bed I felt something under my pillow. Gary had slid another magazine under it for me. Needless to say, I stayed up late looking through it. And again went to sleep with my fingers inside my hot, wet pussy. Man this fingering thing sure made me feel good all over when I would cum. Then on that Saturday night when Gary got home from work, I was waiting for him. Mom and Dad were out with friends again. I was watching TV in the game room (which is right next to Gary's bedroom) when he came in. I wanted to learn some more! I was only wearing my housecoat and panties when he walked in. He saw my mostly naked body and said " Hum Sis, looking for another lesson?" I said "Sure am brother dear." He said to give him a minute to shower and we would do it. Then he went off to the shower. When he returned, he was wearing only boxers and his housecoat and I could see that his "thing" was already getting ready to play. He came over and sat down on the couch with me and I just reached over and pulled his dick out of his shorts and started to play with it. When I did he opened my housecoat and took both my breasts in his hands and started massaging them. It felt pretty good when I did it, but it sure felt great when he did it for me. I was pumping on his dick pretty good and then he reached down and cupped my pussy with his hand and asked if I liked the feel of that, I just spread my legs wider in reply. He didn't hesitate, his hand was inside my panties and one finger was in my pussy. Damn that felt so good!! I was already wet in anticipation of this fun so he had no trouble burying his finger all the way inside me. Then he pulled it out and stuck it in his mouth and sucked it clean. I took this moment to jerk my panties off to give him better access. I loved the feel of his finger in me. And of course I wanted it as long as he would do it. He smiled and said "Little sis, you taste pretty damned good honey!" Then he put two fingers into my pussy! Oh shit it felt so good! I was having trouble concentrating on his dick! He had two fingers in my pussy and was pinching my tittie with the other hand and pulling and pinching the nipple. He had me wanting to scream all the time! Then he started humping and jerking and I knew he was getting ready to shoot on me again. I said "want me to grab a washcloth for you?" He said "No, catch it in your hand, I want to try something." So when it shot off, I caught all I could in my hand. But I was having trouble sitting still, I was about to cum too. I cried out "Oh god Gary, It's here, Oh shit finger it fast , It feels so good make me cum honey, Please, I love you . I love this feeling!! Oh god it's good!!" And I was like convulsing on his fingers! Finally I finished and Gary pulled his fingers out of me and said, "Watch this!" His fingers were dripping with my juices and he licked it all from them. So in return, I started licking his cum out of my hand for him. He smiled and I knew he liked that idea. When he first licked his one finger, I thought it was a little gross, but quickly forgot about that. Now I understood that it really did taste good and it was somehow satisfying to see him lick up my juices! He said again how good I tasted and asked about his. I said "It is a strange taste but I could get used to it real quick!" I wiped some more off his dick and sucked that off my finger. "Ok, lesson one, we just made each other have an "orgasm", or "cum" for short. You "jerked me off" or "jacked me off", either way you want to say it. And I just fingered you off, also sometimes called fingering you! Did you really like what I just did to you? Did it really feel great?" he asked. "Oh yes Gary it was fantastic, it was just awesome! I never felt so good! I did it to myself the other night but when you did it, it was much, much better! Did I do ok for you too?" I asked. "Oh yes honey, you are getting really good at that. Listen Sis, have you ever heard of the term 'incest'?" I said "Yes, but that is families isn't it, like blood relatives?" Gary replied that it was "but lots of people would look at us as being relatives now, although we are not blood relatives, understand?" "Yes," I said, "but what has this got to do with us having fun?" I asked. "Well, Sis, I just want you to understand that lots of people would really frown on what we are doing. So what I want us to do is swear that NO ONE will ever know about this, not your best friend or anyone, understand?" "Yes I do and I swear that no one will ever know about us but us, Gary" "You swear that? Hope to die?" Gary asked. I said "Yes , I swear, hope to die, I will never ever tell anyone what we are doing. Just don't stop teaching me, Please? I want to learn from you, cause I trust you to do me right." "Ok " he said. "Good enough." We were still sitting on the couch and Gary said "Sis, baby, you want another one?" I said "another what?" Just hoping he was thinking the same thing that I was thinking. He said, "Another orgasm, silly!" "Oh yes please, that one a few minutes ago was so incredible! Oh yes, please make me have another one, please!" He said "Ok honey, but this one is just for you. Forget about me, you just enjoy this one by yourself, OK?" I said "Sure Gary, if that's what you want." He said, "OK get up on your hands and knees and let me show you something else." I got up like he said and he pushed my housecoat up over my back and rubbed his fingers on my pussy and said "Good little Sis, you're still wet. And I have to tell you that you have a beautiful little pussy and ass, honey." He slowly shoved two fingers all the way in me as deep as they would go. I really let out a groan because it felt so very good! And then he started working them in and out of me pretty fast and hard, then he used his other hand to rub my clit and shit he was driving me crazy!! He would mash on it and then rub it and then pinch it and each time he did something, it was electrifying to my body! I just wanted to scream at him to never, ever, ever, stop doing that!! I was humping back on his hand like I don't know what, and I couldn't help it, I just wanted more! I said "Gary , more honey please I love it, more!" And then he put three fingers in me and I almost cum just from that! Oh it felt good to be full of fingers! "Oh Gary, I'm getting close, please make me cum, fast and hard Please". But Gary pulled his fingers out of me and I looked back to see what was going on. "It's ok honey, I just wanted a taste" and he shoved two fingers back in my pussy and "Ouch!", one in my asshole!! He said "Easy honey, It'll feel good in just a second" as he continued to work them in and out. He was right, the pain was gone and Oh god what a fantastic feeling it was! I was going to cum with two fingers in my pussy and one in my ass!! I convulsed hard and started shaking all over and screaming and jerking all over! Damn this was the best yet and it lasted longer too. And I could feel my juices running down my legs. And then I just collapsed on the couch, exhausted completely and fully satisfied! I could barely breathe, but I said, "Gary, that was the most fantastic orgasm! I know I screamed too loud but it was that good! It was awesome, beyond description!!" I raised up and grabbed him around the neck and slammed my lips to his and forced my tongue into his mouth. I know I love him, He has made me so happy! We kissed for a long time and finally we broke it and Gary said "Ok sis, bed time" and smacked me on the ass. "Ok" I said, "But that little smack felt good." and smiled at him as I gathered up my panties and headed upstairs. I sure won't have any trouble falling asleep tonight! I was exhausted! Lesson 2: Oral Exam A few weeks passed and I got another magazine under my pillow with a note to check out pages 54 thru 57, then come to see him. I knew it had to be something really good. That was all about how to suck cocks and deep-throat cocks. "YES," I thought, "he must want me to do this to him and that's why he pointed it out to me." So I stayed up late again and studied that part. Later I would study the rest of the magazine. So that weekend, Mom and Dad were out shopping and Gary was working early and I knew he would be home early so I showered and got myself ready to satisfy him like he had done for me the last time. Tonight I would really give him a good blowjob and I would deepthroat him because I had been practicing by pushing bananas back in my throat to make me used to it without gagging. I could now push a banana as far into my throat as I could reach and still pull it back out. So I was ready for him. When he came in, I stood up and opened my housecoat and there was just me, no panties or bra, just me. He came over to me and kissed me and I just dropped to my knees and opened his pants and pulled his cock out and I just shoved my face down on it. He groaned and then said "Oh shit sis, you're so good, but don't you want to wait til I've showered?" I said "No I want to taste you as you are," and went back to sucking, Then I slowly eased my face down on it till I had the whole thing in my throat. He was groaning so much! He pulled back and I said "What's wrong honey, am I doing it wrong?' "No , no hon, I just can't stand up if you deepthroat me, my knees won't hold me up!" He went over and sat down on the couch and I was right there and took him again, all the way in and he was making all kinds of moaning noise and I knew he was really loving this, so I took my time about it and I would go down all the way and stay there till I needed to breathe before I came up and I could tell it was driving him wild!! Then he started humping and jerking and put both hands on the back of my head and pulled me to him. I knew he was going to shoot into my throat! I forced my head back far enough to catch my breath and went down all the way and sucked hard and played with the head with my tongue and he blasted my throat full of hot cum. I reached under my chin and caressed his balls and made it last longer for him. When he was finished cumming and I pulled back off his cock, he was just lying there on the couch like he was dead! I think that took everything out of him, so I had done a really good job for him. Finally he grinned and opened his eyes just enough to see me and said "Sis, I've had a few blowjobs before by girls older than you and I'm telling you that I have never had one as good as you just gave me. It was absolutely fantastic!!" "I learned it from the magazine you left for me" I said. "Well, you sure did good honey" he said. Then he got up and went to the shower. I just sat back on the couch and waited for him to come back out. When he came back out, he said, "OK sis, now it's your turn again. Come in here and lie down on my bed and let me show you another thing or two." I did as he said and laid down on the bed on my back and spread my legs wide to give him all the access he wanted. He stood at the foot of the bed a minute and said "Sis, just lie there a minute, I want to do something else first," and went into his bathroom. I wondered what he was thinking. When he came back out, he had his razor and shaving cream. I said "Gary, what are you going to do?" He said "I am going to shave your beautiful little pussy as clean as a baby's butt. Then I'm going to lick it raw!" "Oh yes Gary, anything you say, I just want to be the best at satisfying you!" And he proceeded to shave me clean. It looked really good too. I hadn't thought about that, but it will be shaved from now on! Then he got down and started licking and sucking on my pussy lips and my clit and toying with my ass hole and it didn't take long to get me really hot again and make me start climbing the orgasm mountain. Gary was really good

Summer Camp Staffing Perks. Come to summer camp, it can change your life! Based on a post by Paul Stevens. Listen to the &#9658;Podcast at Steamy Stories. Come to summer camp, it can change your life! Walking in the moonlight one night Evan Walker reflected on just how not good this summer had gone for him thus far. He was beginning to regret leaving the familiar Boy Scout camp he had worked at for the past 3 years. Evan is just a few months from his 19th birthday, but strict school district rules kept him from enrolling in kindergarten because he wasn't 5 years old on August 31st. Not that this camp did not have its advantages, more pay and working at a co-ed camp instead of the all boy camp he had been at the past few summers, were good reasons to switch. This camp is formatted into 12-day sessions, The scout camp was only 6 days; so kids had time to enjoy 'breakout' trips in wilderness camping, canoeing, or trophy-fishing for Lake Trout &amp; Muskie. Camp Drake is a venture of the state's largest hunting club. The camp becomes a hunting retreat in the fall, and winter months. Member families have 28 days of exclusive enrollment beginning February 1st, for sending their kids to this summer camp, Non-members snatch up remaining slots by May 1st. Also motivating the switch was the fact that the new position was a far better opportunity with much better facilities than his old camp. Still, he was just wondering if it was enough. This camp is about an hour northwest from his family home in Duluth. He plans to pursue a forestry degree at the local state university. From the moment he had arrived, there had been trouble, namely the muscle bound trio that ran the aquatics and sports areas of the camp. To be truthful, Evan did not look the type of an outdoor expert, most people expected him to be tall, rippling with muscles, and have broad shoulders... all things that described his tormentors. Evan had the tall part, and some muscle, but clearly fell well short of expectations. Of course Evan knew that his area of expertise had little to do with how strong you are as much as what you knew. The strongest man in the world wouldn't last more than a few days in the wilderness, without the proper knowledge and supplies. Still Evan had managed to make a few friends on staff, and once the season had begun, things had gone relatively well; but overall it had been a disaster. As on the first day he had made a fool of himself right in front of the camp's version of Helen of Troy, Dana Reese. More than that though, he just seemed to get a vibe she utterly disliked him for some reason. Whatever the reason she had taken to calling him 'freak' after that first day, and unfortunately the name stuck, at least with the popular crowd. Dana is from Minnetonka, An uppity suburb of Minneapolis. Worse his big 4-day trip, the jewel of his program, looked to be an absolute flop. Few boys were interested and due to the fact that he had no female staff, no girls were allowed. A fact which Evan knew was cutting into his attendance. He knew several fence sitters were interested, but they were all boys whose hormones would not allow them to be away from the girls for too long, especially not a week. Because of this, Evan had pleaded with Fred the Camp Director for a female staffer to go with so he could bring girls and in turn get the extra boys, but it was a voluntary. As much as Fred wanted the new area to succeed, and as it had been his idea in the first place he did, he could not force one of the over-18 girls to go with. So Evan was stuck seemingly doomed for failure. Camp rules require a female staffer to be present for any activity that girls have access to. It was a mandate from the board of directors, on the recommendation of the liability committee. He had been traveling along some of the moonlit forest paths when he heard rustling up ahead. Remembering that night walks were against the rules, even for staff Evan crouched down and held still, waiting for signs of who or what had made the noise. He had been sitting there for a second before the mystery figure came into view. Whoever it was was slowly and carefully making their way back to the path often stopping to look at something before continuing on. It was only after watching the person that Evan realized what they were up to, they were examining various trees and plants and he could swear they were recording each find. Evan smiled, so it seemed the camp had a moonlight naturalist. Evan wondered who, but the darkness of the trees and the fact that they spent much of the time crouch kept him from telling for sure. Feeling curious, Evan stayed awaiting the moment when the mystery naturalist entered the moonlit path. He was sure to see who it was, then. He didn't have long to wait. A few minutes later the figure entered the path and Evan had no need to see her face, that silhouette could not be mistaken. Long hair he knew to be light brown that hung over her shoulders. Continuing down he saw the swell of her large set of breasts before her form flattened at her stomach. The slight swell of her amazing ass was just below and led into the long legs, legs that supported the 5'9 form of Dana Reese. Evan was shocked but recovered in time to notice that she was headed his way. Quickly, he headed back the way he came hoping she was so lost in her note taking, for seeing her on the path he realized she was carrying a pen and a pad of paper with her. By some measure of luck Evan made it back with his mind racing. What was a lifeguard who was the hottest, girliest, and seemingly the sluttiest girl in the camp doing, taking a nature hike in the moonlight? This did not fit in with her reputation at all. If someone had told him Dana Reese would be a nature lover, he would had called them crazy. Yet there it was, he had seen it with his own eyes. Before Evan fell asleep, he made a point to walk the next time the moon was bright to see if he had company. A few nights later a nearly full moon filled the night sky. Evan admired it before setting out from his cabin. This time he left as soon as he felt the coast was clear. Luckily his cabin had gotten to sleep early that night. He crept out of the boy section of cabins and waited in the trees near the girls' cabins hoping he would spot Dana leaving. It seemed fate smiled upon him again as a few minutes later, her unmistakable figure strode by. Evan watched where she went and waited a few minutes and after checking to see if it was clear, followed her. Admittedly he felt a little weird following Dana like he was stalking her, but he had to know what she was up to, tonight. This time she took no notes but simply walked to a pretty clearing and sat on a rock gazing at the moon seemingly at peace. As Evan entered the clearing behind her, he watched her silently as she took deep breaths of the air almost lovingly. He was not sure what drew him closer when he knew he should turn around. However some mystic force brought him closer to the girl sitting on the rock. Despite his feelings though it was his next act he would never be able to explain in a million years. &quot;Lovely night, isn't it?&quot; He asked, quietly standing only a few feet behind the oblivious Dana. The brunette jumped and nearly fell off the fortunately flat rock she was sitting on. &quot;Freak! What are you...&quot; she shouted in anger before remembering the situation and looking at him said, &quot;Sorry, I mean you scared me, what are you doing out here?&quot; Evan ignored the name some of the other 'popular' staffers had for him. &quot;The same as you, it seems; enjoying a lovely moonlit night.&quot; Evan said, finding the cheesy words somewhere. To his surprise she just nodded and looked back at the moon. Then she surprised him by saying, &quot;Yes, it's a shame so many of our co-workers don't realize the beauty of a night like this. All of them content to bathe in fluorescent light and sit in the AC. Nights like this make me feel alive, you know?&quot; Evan was not sure why she said it, but he was glad. It seemed there was much more to the beautiful lifeguard than a gorgeous body and a slutty reputation. Evan just nodded and stood admiring the night with her for a while. Sometime later Dana seemed to have had her fill and rose from the rock. &quot;Well you can stay if you like, but I'm headed to bed, goodnight Evan.&quot; &quot;Goodnight,&quot; He said a little surprised; he used his real name instead of the customary 'freak.' Then, as an afterthought, he asked without turning, &quot;Dana?&quot; &quot;What?&quot; he heard her whisper back. &quot;If you're coming out for the full moon tomorrow night, you might want to wear baggier clothes. You're rather easily identifiable in your current ones, especially in this light.&quot; There was a pause before she thanked him, and he heard her shuffle off through the field. He waited a few more minutes before heading back to his own cabin. Evan thought of sharing the moonlight with Dana and smiled knowing he had seen something of her which probably few had ever seen before. The next night he didn't bother following Dana but headed for the field. Sure enough there she was sitting on her rock. He greeted her, and this time she didn't jump. &quot;Hi Evan. I wondered if you'd be here,&quot; she said, not taking her eyes off the moon. &quot;I wondered the same, but figured a full moon like this is hard to pass up.&quot; He then saw she was wearing looser clothes. &quot;I see you followed my wardrobe suggestion.&quot; &quot;Yeah, well it was a good one. I forget about my uh, silhouette.&quot; &quot;Yeah, But now, in this moonlight, they can probably see our faces. Starlight is better to sneak by.&quot; &quot;Oh, but it's so hard to see by that kind of light.&quot; &quot;They do have these things called flashlights Dana.&quot; &quot;I know that,&quot; she said glaring at him, &quot;But I hate ruining my night vision.&quot; &quot;As do I, but it comes back. Besides I'd rather ruin my night vision then trip on a tree root.&quot; &quot;You have a point,&quot; Dana said. Then she moved over on the rock and said, &quot;Why don't you sit, there's room for the both of us.&quot; Evan, not wanting to argue, sat down next to her on the big rock. &quot;You surprised me, Evan,&quot; Dana said a while later, out of the blue. &quot;Yeah, sorry about that, last night...&quot; Evan said a little sheepishly. &quot;Well, that was also a shock, but I'm not talking about that. When you showed and I called you a name; I half expected blackmail or you to blab my secret.&quot; &quot;Well, one; I'm not that type of guy; and two; it would have gotten me in trouble as well. I'm jut wondering why you feel you have to hide anything from people? So you like nature, so what? Just because you're pretty doesn't mean you can't like nature too?&quot; &quot;First off, I don't like nature and the outdoors, I love it. It's the main reason I come to this camp, as for why I hide it, that's a long story.&quot; &quot;Well it's a nice night, and I got time, if you feel like telling, that is?&rdquo; Dana looked at him, seemingly considering him for a bit, then said; &quot;Oh, what the hell, why not? It'll be good to tell someone, but you can't tell a soul what you hear. Do and it'll be a long summer for you.&quot; Evan nodded, thinking it was already shaping up to be a long summer as it was, and she launched into her tale. It turned out her parents were the sort that drove their children hard. Demanding excellence and promising pain when she failed. Her dad had his mind set on her being some kind of doctor or lawyer, and wouldn't hear of anything else. Her mom could care less what she did so long as she looked pretty, and gave them plenty of grandkids. Dana learned early the price of disappointing her parents, and it was too much to bear. Now she lived by her parents' wishes, only stealing a few things she truly desired, when she could. Summing it up, she turned to Evan and said; &quot;Which is how I got here, I told dad it'll look good on my college admission application. Well it worked, I got in. I was able to convince Dad that one last summer couldn't hurt. I wish I could spend it doing what you're doing, but mom said I had to be a camp lifeguard because they look prettier.&quot; &quot;So what do you want to be?&quot; &quot;You'll laugh,&quot; she said, and Evan shook his head and reassured her he wouldn't. She sighed and said &quot;A Park Ranger.&quot; No sooner had she told him, than her problem made sense as did the late night walks. &quot;I see you can't do it because you dad will hate it, and because your mom probably thinks it below a pretty girl like you.&quot; She nodded. They sat enjoying the moon some more and discussing a few other things before both decided to call it a night. Evan left surprised at how easy Dana was to talk to when she didn't have her bitch persona active. The next night the moon was dimmer and later, and so were his nights with Dana, or so he thought. A little over a week after the full moon Evan got a note from Dana. She wanted to challenge his flashlight theory. It turned out to be a perfect night to star gaze. The pair laid on their rock pointing out stars and constellations that they knew. When they ran out Evan was surprised to feel Dana's hand grip his. Before he could react she spoke. &quot;You know it's weird, I know. We only met up twice to watch the moon but I missed this. I feel so free when I'm out here with you. I can be me and no one is judging me, just my friend Evan and I; enjoying the beauty of the outdoors.&quot; &quot;Dana we can do this as often as we're able if you want.&quot; For the next two weeks they did just that. She smiled and said, &quot;I'd like that.&quot; &ldquo;By the way,&rdquo; Evan asked as Dana and he were returning to the cabin area; &ldquo;What college are you going to, this fall? &ldquo;The U of M Duluth&rdquo; Dana answered. &ldquo;But Dad doesn't know that I'm planning to switch majors in the spring.&rdquo; Evan could barely contain his glee. She was going to be living in Duluth, this fall! Evan knew some higher power was shining on him because those two weeks had some of the prettiest nights he had ever seen. Then again, a lot of things seem prettier when you have a pretty girl along and even better when she's cuddled close to you. The next evening, Evan told Dana that he lives just 3 miles from the UMD campus. Dana was so excited and asked him endless questions about campus life and local accommodations. Over those two weeks the pair grew closer and closer sharing their dreams and desires with each other. Evan talked about his breakout wilderness camping itinerary. &quot;God, I'm so envious, Evan. A whole week in the forest, what I wouldn't give to go,&quot; Dana said after Evan mentioned the upcoming trip. Sign up for the week of prep classes, was coming soon. &quot;Then why don't you? I've been asking Fred for a female staffer to come, so the girls can come with for a while now.&quot; &quot;Evan, you know why I can't.&quot; she said quietly. Evan did know, it was the same reason that despite their closeness, Dana had maintained being a bitch to him in front of her friends. He took it stoically knowing she did not really mean it. His heart sank, remembering the reason he had not brought it up before. Then all the sudden he had a brainstorm. &quot;Wait, Dana, I got it! How hard would it be to get in major trouble this week?&quot; &quot;Not hard, why?&quot; &quot;Because if I know Fred; he'll give you something real nasty if you do something majorly bad, something like accompanying a guy you hate into the icky wilderness for a whole week. Especially if I've happened to plead my case to him right before he hears what you've done.&quot; &quot;That's brilliant!&quot; Dana said with a smile that then faded as she thought of something, &quot;Wait, wouldn't that seem a bit odd to people. I happened to get in trouble the night you lobby for a female staffer to come with on the trip?&quot; &quot;Yeah, that'll happen Dana, everyone thinks we despise each other. Why would anyone assume we are working together? Fred will probably think its providence and just roll with it. Besides you're perfect. You should draw a few girls in and girls will draw in my fence sitters. Plus you get to trick the camp into getting to go on the trip and I'll even make Fred assign you private lessons, so your skills will be up to snuff by trip time.&quot; Dana felt an inward joy at the prospect of helping younger girls discover the marvels of nature. It stirred in her a sense of greater purpose. She smiled for a second then hugged him with joy. It was not the first time, as she often said goodbye after their nights together that way. But something felt different about this hug. Evan looked at her to see what it was, and his vision became filled with her pretty brown eyes. She then held his chin and Evan knew what was coming next and eagerly anticipated it. He felt the soft lips touch his and it was if fireworks had been set off in every part of his body as his nerves burned with excitement. He returned the kiss best he could and pulled Dana closer, still not believing he was kissing the hottest girl in camp. When the kiss broke, Dana spoke. &quot;I'm sorry I don't know;hmm&quot; Her apology cut off by Evan's lips hungrily seeking more of that feeling he got from kissing her. She returned the kiss willingly and for the rest of the night the pair just made out under the star-filled sky. It would be one of the most memorable of Evan's life. After that night if no one was around he always got a goodnight kiss from Dana. The next day Evan's plan worked perfectly. No sooner had he finished telling Fred the advantages of assigning a female staffer to the camping trip than low and behold Dana broke the rule about flirting with the campers one too many times. As both Dana and Evan had hoped; Fred immediately assigned her to the trip for punishment. Admittedly Evan had had a point. If Dana, the pool goddess that many of the girls in camp practically worshipped, could not boost attendance among the girls and by extension the boys, no one could. As promised, Evan even asked for the lesson time when he heard it was Dana coming along. That night Evan and Dana met up and he gave her a slightly hard time about being jealous of the boys at the pool. She ignored it and kissed him, this time using her tongue. &quot;There baby, you still jealous of the kids at the pool? None of them get to kiss me, especially like that, only a real man, my man, gets to do that.&quot; &quot;Your man?&quot; Evan asked confused and a bit dazed... was he really her boyfriend? &quot;Yes silly,&quot; she answered seemingly anticipating Evan's question, &quot;You're my boyfriend and the best one I've ever had, too. I've shared things with you I'd never dared share with anyone before. Now I have a surprise for you, to thank you for your help and to make up for that flirting I did.&quot; &quot;Oh well, you already did that.&quot; &quot;I want there to be no doubts, Big boy, now close your eyes and lay flat on the rock.&quot; Evan had no idea what she had in mind but soon found out when he felt his zipper get pulled down. Second later he felt his shorts and boxers pulled down and only absolute trust in Dana kept him from opening his eyes. He felt his cock go hard and could not help but smile at the gasp from Dana. Evan may not have been the strongest man in camp but there was one place he was not lacking size. He could only imagine the look on Dana's face; as the over nine inch cock stood proudly in front of her. He heard her shift slightly as her hand began stroking his shaft. &quot;You have a beautiful cock Evan,&quot; she said &quot;Now relax while I make it feel real good.&quot; The next thing he felt was her warm lips enveloping the hard shaft. After that everything outside of that mouth and tongue ceased to exist. He enjoyed the feeling until he could hold back no longer. Somehow he managed to tap her on the head and she only sucked harder. He came, and shot after shot of his warm cum erupted into her waiting mouth, and Dana swallowed it all. When he regained the ability of rational thought Evan could not believe he had just gotten a blow job from Dana Reese. She pulled his pants and underwear back up for him before cuddling up to hi

Matching Day: Part 1 To love risks more than just her heart. Based on a post by SmallTownPrincess, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. Girls spend their entire lives looking forward to the fateful Matching Day - and whether or not they will admit it, boys, too, have at least a healthy curiosity. It's so reassuring, knowing that in your eighteenth year, you and your age-mates will be paired off, brought together with another from their own community or a surrounding one that match them perfectly. No song-and-dance dating rituals, like the ones in the books Livia liked to read, no old maids, no riotous bachelors; just simple, comforting compatibility. &quot;Have you heard?&quot; The hushed, conspiratorial tones issued from the pink-lacquered lips of Livia's best friend, Mara. &quot;What?&quot; Livia's low-pitched voice always made her sound disinterested, but she paid close attention to Mara when her friend sounded this urgent. &quot;There was a big accident over in Micrague. One guy died!&quot; &quot;Oh, that's terrible,&quot; Livia murmured, letting her eyelashes drop and rise again to half-mast in a brief show of empathy. It was all she had time for, as Mara leaned suddenly, ever more urgently forward, gripping Livia's arm in both hands. &quot;That's not the worst thing,&quot; she rolled on. &quot;The guy who was killed? He just turned eighteen. That makes the numbers for tomorrow's Matching uneven!&quot; Two full breaths, painful to the impatient Mara, passed before Livia spoke in response. &quot;So, what, someone won't be paired? A girl will be left without her match?&quot; &quot;Whoever matched with him will have no pair on Matching Day,&quot; Mara proclaimed ominously. Her eyes were wide and glittering with morbid excitement. &quot;What do they do about that?&quot; It was unheard of, as far as Livia knew; there were always even numbers, always a perfect match for everyone. Mara gave an exaggerated shrug. &quot;Maybe she'll never be matched.&quot; Livia was surprised into laughter. &quot;They can't leave her without a match forever,&quot; she said with certainty. &quot;Maybe they'll search out another community for someone that fits even better than that poor boy who died.&quot; Her reassuring confidence sent Mara, humming, away to terrify someone else with proclamations of an eternity alone for some poor girl. The thought nagged at Livia for the rest of the afternoon, though. What if he was matched with me? &quot;Verin Massada,&quot; the stern voice called from the central platform, and a stick-thin brunette drifted toward the three steps that lifted her above the circle of impatient teenagers. &quot;Philip Pressia.&quot; The broad-shouldered redhead that stepped up to take Verin's hand smirked and bowed at the polite smattering of applause that ushered the happy new couple off the stage. Livia smiled approvingly; Verin needed a little more humor in her life. Livia watched each girl she'd grown up with walk back into the circle, shyly clutching the hand of her new mate, and twisted her skirt nervously in her fingers. It seemed forever before the 'R's were called, and the wad of boys brought in from all the different communities steadily shrank. She met the clear grey eyes of one of the remaining boys as Clanley Ritchell was met by a generic-looking, dark-haired boy, and she thought fleetingly, I hope I'm matched with him. He seemed to be thinking the same thing; his face fell a little when he was called up to greet a willowy blond on the dais. &quot;Danica Soress,&quot; the voice demanded, and Livia stood a little straighter with a sharp intake of breath. Had she been skipped? All the vague, incoherent fears that had accompanied Mara's morbid pronouncement coursed through Livia, charged with shame as some girls recognized the omission and turned to look at her with expressions of varying pity. Livia felt on the edge of tears. She saw the blond - that wretched Salvia - pull the grey-eyed boy down to whisper cruelly in his ear and point in Livia's direction, and she contemplated melting into the dirt. With the blood roaring loudly in her ears, she heard no other names called, and stared fixedly at a nondescript blade of grass in front of her to avoid the glances that were flickering toward her. How can this be? she thought frantically. How can I not have a match? &quot;Livia, what's going on?&quot; Mara's face held ghoulish curiosity with only an edge of concern for her friend, and Livia couldn't deal with her. She turned without a word and marched to the fountain a good distance away from the platform. People were breaking off now, finding secluded spots to get to know this person with whom they'd be partnered forever. Livia, wrapping her arms tightly around her gut, had never felt so alone. How could she have lost a lifetime of companionship without ever tasting it? It was too, too cruel. What right did that boy have to take away everything in one fell swoop? How could he die? She wanted to shake her fist at the heavens, demand an explanation, but she just trailed her fingers through the rippling water in the fountain basin, swallowing hard against the wave of emotions that threatened to show itself grotesquely in her features. &quot;His name was Bracken, if that helps,&quot; said a voice behind her, and she jumped, throwing water onto her dress. She turned to see that grey-eyed boy approaching, and she prepared herself for the humiliation she was sure to experience at his hands; he had, after all, been matched like everyone else, and she was alone - possibly forever. He did not mock her, though; his eyes held the soft, cautious understanding of someone who pitied another, but was not sure whether that person desired sympathy or not. When she said nothing, he shrugged self-consciously. &quot;Sorry, I realize you might not have wanted to know. I just, he was my best friend. I thought if you did want to know about him, I'd at least let you know who you could ask.&quot; A flood of gratitude made it temporarily impossible for her to speak, and then she forced a smile. &quot;I think I'd like to know,&quot; she said hesitantly. She wasn't sure; would it be better to know nothing about what she'd never have, or to at least have pleasant thoughts about what could've been? &quot;Can I ask you something now?&quot; &quot;Absolutely.&quot; &quot;Would I have liked him?&quot; The boy nodded. &quot;I think so. He was quiet at first, it took a while to get to know him. But once you did, there was no one you trusted more.&quot; He added, with the hesitation of an afterthought but the seriousness of something he'd intended to say all along, &quot;Seeing you here, there's no doubt that he would have liked you.&quot; He gave Livia one last smile and lay his hand over hers for a moment, ignoring the water droplets that sat on it like dew. For a warm second, she felt a rush of what it might have been like to have someone get to know her intimately over a lifetime, to love and understand her and for her to love back, and then the grey-eyed boy was walking with wide strides back to Salvia, and nothing but a hollow sadness remained beneath her breastbone. Livia hated them. All of them. The girls with their softly rolling curls, teased and coached for hours in order to look casually delicate when the boys, their shirts tucked in and their shoes shined, arrived at their doorsteps carrying one or two or twenty flowers in one hand and a shining invitation in the other. They walked with springing steps the short distance to the gathering hall in the center of town, hand in hand or arm in arm, and Livia wanted to throw rocks at the whole lot of them. She had been invited, sort of, to join in on the festivities. The community officials, not sure what to do with the first single person over eighteen in a century, had hesitantly allowed for her participation in all the new couples' activities; so far, she had partaken in none of them. Desperately, she wanted to be a part of the revelry, but she could not force herself to walk into the rooms full of happy girls and their happy boys, and have nothing herself. Her mother, unable to comfort her, had begged her to go to the dance. It was the last night before all the boys would be returning to their own communities, taking their matches with them. It was the last night she would seek Mara, who had paired with a boy from Onek. And she'd tried: she'd gotten dressed, piled her hair up on top of her head and pulled her elbow-length gloves on, but nothing could motivate her to step outside her house as streams of giggling lovebirds trickled by on the way to the hall. &quot;Go, Livia,&quot; her mother said, coming up behind her with a basket of laundry on her hip. &quot;You should at least go long enough to say goodbye to Mara.&quot; &quot;I can't, Mama. Think of how they'll look at me!&quot; Her mother bent Livia's head down to kiss her on the forehead. &quot;It's not your fault, Neinei, and they know that. They feel bad for you. They all want to see you. The world didn't end when that poor boy died.&quot; &quot;Bracken,&quot; Livia said defiantly. Her mother had refused to say his name, insisting that it was better for Livia to know nothing about what she had lost. Patting her daughter's shoulder, she adjusted her basket and turned to leave. &quot;Go.&quot; Livia had retreated around the side of the gathering hall, standing just outside the golden pool of light that poured like honey from the windows. Sobs caught in her throat and were choked down, unvoiced, as she watched Mara and Verin and Danica and dozens of others receive chaste pecks from shy boys as they spun by in their brightly-colored dresses, waving fluted, bubbling glasses and laughing with abandon. And there, the grey-eyed boy, Bracken's best friend, was seated quietly with his hands folded in his lap, listening politely to an enthusiastic rendition of some trivial event or another by Salvia. It was always easy to tell when she was excited about something, as her arms pinwheeled and hands fluttered with no thought to how the gestures went along with the story. He glanced up, and his eyes met, for a moment, Livia's. He looked surprised to see her there, and then a bit sad, and then his gaze drifted back to Salvia, who had grabbed his knee in her earnestness. This infinitesimal rejection, the refusal to even meet her eyes for more than a moment, pushed Livia over the edge. Tears, burning like acid, washed over her face, and she stumbled away from the window, crying with pitiful lack of restraint. She staggered into the sparse forest, the trees providing scattered shelter from curious eyes, if any should choose to drift away from the golden party, and the darkness of the night fit her mood, a strangely soothing thought. &quot;Are you alright?&quot; For the second time, the grey-eyed boy's voice jolted her out of her own misery. She would not face him; not now, when her eyes were puffy and irritated, her nose red and her face streaked with dirty tear tracks. He would see her and compare her to Salvia, and she would fall short; she could not handle right now seeing him weigh her that way and find her lacking. His hand on her back was another surprise, and then both his hands weighing down on her shoulders as he stepped closer behind her. &quot;Hey,&quot; he said gently. &quot;Everything will turn out fine. Maybe, maybe you'll find someone better than Bracken could have been for you.&quot; She forgot her resolution not to face him then, turning toward him with her eyes narrowed to angry slits. &quot;How could I, when everyone is paired already? Besides, I had my chance - he just managed to get himself killed before I could even meet him!&quot; The words came out much harsher than she intended, and the young man in front of her actually took a step back from her ferocity, hunching like she'd landed a blow to his gut. &quot;I'm sorry,&quot; she said immediately, automatically. &quot;I shouldn't have said that. He was your friend, &quot; &quot;It's alright,&quot; he said, giving her a ghost of a smile and waving his hand with a nonchalance that didn't show in his eyes. He had that gentle look of quiet appreciation of life that came to some people who lost loved ones, but knew that lost friend would be offended if they did not continue to smile. &quot;I know it's probably really hard on you, seeing everyone so, happy.&quot; He trailed off, not looking happy in the least. &quot;Speaking of happy people, shouldn't you be in there with Salvia?&quot; His face took on the contemplative expression of someone deciding how to phrase something delicately. &quot;Salvia, she's not quite what I expected to find, on my Matching Day. She's, &quot; &quot;Lively?&quot; Livia suggested. &quot;Brazen? Exuberant?&quot; obnoxious,&quot; the grey-eyed boy said decisively. &quot;I don't like her at all.&quot; Livia smirked. &quot;Well, you have to like her. She's your match. You love her.&quot; He shook his head. &quot;No,&quot; he said quietly. &quot;I don't.&quot; &quot;But she's your perfect match,&quot; Livia insisted. &quot;But what if she's not?&quot; Livia heard her heart beat twice before she asked, &quot;What?&quot; &quot;What if Salvia is not the perfect girl for me? What if the girl that I would love more than anyone else in the world couldn't be matched with me because, there was someone else our age who she would like a little bit better?&quot; &quot;That doesn't even make sense,&quot; Livia said, shaking her head. &quot;The matches have always been perfect: even numbers, complete compatibility;&#8221; &quot;But this time they messed up, right? I mean, you should know. You're the person who's affected more than anyone else.&quot; &quot;Well, yes, but;&#8221; &quot;So why isn't it possible that they aren't right on everything else? What if they didn't match this girl with me because she would love this other guy more?&quot; &quot;Well, so, maybe they did. But if you would love her so much, surely you would want to see her happy, with the man she was meant to be with, right?&quot; &quot;Yes,&quot; he said, very seriously. &quot;I would want to see her happy.&quot; &quot;Then you should leave her in peace with the person she was matched with, and focus on learning to love the girl you were paired with.&quot; The interminable silence stretched between them as the grey-eyed boy stared down at the leafy ground and Livia watched the way his hair blew across his forehead in the breeze. At last he said, &quot;What if she wasn't matched with anyone?&quot; Livia's heart sped up, beating double time as she realized what he'd been saying all along, what she'd been too dim to put together until he'd spelled it out. &quot;But you are matched,&quot; she said numbly. &quot;Salvia has you.&quot; He leaned dangerously far forward, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered into it, &quot;I don't want Salvia.&quot; Livia shrank back, confused. These were dangerous words he uttered, dangerous thoughts. People were matched with the people they were meant to be with. How could there be any other way? They couldn't be wrong; there'd been no divorce, no infidelity, no broken hearts in the decades people had been paired this way. Surely it was the right way. It had to be. &quot;I don't even know your name,&quot; Livia said resolutely, as though that settled the matter and proved him wrong. She pushed against his chest to force him back, feeling the blazing heat of his heart under her palm. &quot;It's Mason,&quot; he said quietly, and his words had the sound of discussion-ending power to them too. Livia was conscious of the fact that she had not moved her hand from his chest; her fingers curled slightly, enjoying the silky feeling of his shirt over his skin, and the warmth that radiated from his flesh. &quot;Go back to Salvia, Mason,&quot; she whispered. She realized she was shaking from head to toe, and not from cold. Here was everything she had ever wanted, everything she had imagined when she thought of her Matching Day, but he was not hers. &quot;Please, go back to the party.&quot; With a sigh, Mason touched her cheek briefly, the lightest of butterfly wing contacts, and then he turned and vanished into the night, not toward the party, but deeper into the forest. Livia stood for a long time without moving, her mind racing and her heart pounding like a runner's feet, and then she walked, slowly, directly away from Mason. &quot;You didn't come to the party last night,&quot; Mara said, breaking the silence that stood like frosted glass between her and Livia. &quot;No.&quot; Livia had gotten no sleep the night before; lying in bed, replaying continually the frightening moments with Mason, her heart had never slowed. &quot;Well, I just wanted to say goodbye, &quot; Mara twisted her hands for a moment before wrapping Livia up in a warm and desperate hug. &quot;I'm sorry, Lenny. I'm going to miss you so much.&quot; The tension between them melted, and Livia returned the hug tightly, sighing. &quot;It's hard to believe I'll never see any of you again - all the girls I've known all my life! Except for Maize and Crista, they're the only ones who matched with boys from here, right? And I don't really even know them.&quot; &quot;Well, you'll see Salvia too, for a little while.&quot; Breathe in. Breathe out. &quot;Why's that?&quot; &quot;Oh, that fellow she paired with - Mason, isn't it? - his parents have some sort of huge wedding ceremony planned, and they've got a house mostly built for the two of them. They told him to stay here a while, get to know his partner's family for a bit, let her spend some more time with them, and then head back once the house and all the plans were done.&quot; Wedding were an extravagance, a luxury that most people went without, especially if they didn't have the means to make it a massive event. The fact that Mason's family was going to such lengths meant they must be well off indeed. &quot;So Mason, and Salvia, will be around for a while?&quot; &quot;Yeah, at least a month, I'd say.&quot; A buzzing numbness in her extremities made it difficult for Livia to respond. She had thought Mason would be gone today, that she'd never have to see him and Salvia together again. But they would be here for a month, &quot;Speak of the devil,&quot; Mara said cheerfully, skipping over to greet Salvia as she pranced up the path with Mason's hand gripped in her own vice-like claw. The dark circles under his eyes said that he, too, had had a night with little sleep. &quot;Good morning, Mara, Livia,&quot; he said politely, giving each of them a little nod. His eyes lingered on Livia, though, and she found herself blushing and rushing to hug Mara goodbye again and begging for many letters describing life in Onek in great detail. But then Mara left, and Salvia, Mason and Livia were left standing in an awkwardly isosceles triangle. &quot;So, &quot; Livia said at length, rocking back and forth in her slippers. &quot;How was the party last night?&quot; <p class=MsoN