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Subject: Ng Story Collection
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Here is the complete collection of the Ng stories.  Thanks to the author 
for taking the time and energy to produce these wonderful stories.
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com
Here are our first posts to alt.sex.stories.

While You Were Out... by Deidre Ng

Well,  I guess you're not home. That's what sisters are
for, always there when you need them. Well, I guess I'll
just talk until your tape runs out, in case you're in the
bathroom or something, and can't reach the phone right
now, but you know that as soon as you can reach it, I'll
hang up. That won't happen this time, 'cause like I said,
I'll keep talking til I'm forced off by your stupid
machine.

Well, if I know my sister, you're probably in the shower
right now, and there's no way you can here this because
the water is running, pounding into your back really hot,
steam all over the place, and you're oblivious. You're
all sudsy, you've got your boobs all lathered up and
slippery, and you're standing there with one finger on
your clit, getting really buzzed up. Pretty soon you'll
turn around and lie down and let the spray sluice over
you. You'll put your legs up and let the water pound
right down on your pussy while you pinch your nips and
get really hot. Maybe you'll turn over for a change of
pace and let the shower massage your asshole for a while,
with the runoff gurgling over your pussy and across your
stomach until it cascades off your nipples and chin. You
can keep yourself pretty high, playing like that with
some nice hot water spraying all over you. I know, 'cause
you're my sister, and sisters have a lot of similar
tastes sometimes. Certainly if I was in the shower while
someone was talking to my answering machine, I'd be
having at least that much fun.

I suppose I might as well make this interesting enough
for you to listen to the whole thing. I wanted to tell
you about my stay at the St. Regis, it being such a fancy
hotel and all, but the fanciness got all overshadowed by
the amazing thing that happened to me there. The first
night I was there I came back to my room from dinner
utterly exhausted. Running this conference for my boss
and dealing with all the jerks and being pleasant while
being condescended to, or being propositioned, or leered
at by clients and salespeople alike, it's not worth my
measly salary. I shucked off suit, shirt, nylons, bra, it
all went in a big pile in one of the big wing back chairs
that I had in my room. The room was really cold, you know
hotel air conditioning, never right, so I took my big
terry robe out of my overnight bag and put it on over my
panties. Then I just flopped onto the bed and started
watching tv.

Maybe staring at tv would be a better way to put it,
because I wasn't really watching, just kind of lying
there...after a while I turned it off and started to
doze. The terry cloth felt nice and warm and soft, kinda
cuddly. I was thinking about this guy that I've told you
about, he's got this really light touch, and he knows how
to touch me all over, so maybe the terry cloth was
reminding me of him. Whatever it was, I was about to fall
asleep dreaming about him when at the exact same split
second the phone rang and I remembered that I had told
him he could meet me that night after dinner. I rolled
over and grabbed the phone on the second ring. It was
him, he was downstairs, what was my room number? I was
stunned, half asleep, I said whatever it was without
thinking and then added in a rising panic that I was
almost ready. And then I hung up.

I was still lying on the bed trying to prioritize when I
heard a knock at the door. Totally mortified, I let him
in. He was dressed really nicely, ready to take me out.
He closed the door and gave me a big smile, and then a
big hug and then a big kiss. As he held me I said I was
sorry, that I was tired, that I wasn't ready, could he
wait just a few minutes and I'd be ready. He pulled away
a little and looked around the room, he must have seen
that I had nothing unpacked, all my work clothes were
jumbled in a pile in a chair, that I was at least a solid
hour away from feeling presentable to the outside world.
So he smiled and he said why don't we stay in tonight.
And then he kissed me again.

We stood kissing for a while, and the little knots in my
stomach unwound as he held me close. I could feel my
boobs pressed into the terry bathrobe, pressed against
him. I got very aware of how little I had on. Sometimes
deep kissing makes me a little dizzy, I must have swayed
against him like I was going to fall. He broke the kiss
and pulled away, I thought he was going to lead me over
to the bed and lay me down. Instead he sat me in the
other big wing back chair at the foot of the bed. He
knelt in front of me and I opened my legs and the robe
fell back off my thighs, showing him my legs and the dark
patch of hair under my panties. He got close to me and we
kissed some more. He unknotted the bathrobe by feel and I
pulled his shirttails out and started on his buttons. He
brushed the bathrobe back from over my breasts and
started sqeezing and rubbing me the way he knows I like
it. I gave up on his buttons with a big moan and put my
hands up behind my head and pushed my boobs forward into
his hands. Then I put my arms around his head and kissed
him really hard, really sticking my tongue into his mouth
and worming it around while he stroked me up and down
over my boobs, pinching me and pulling my nipples. I was
making these little sounds in my throat and down between
my legs I was getting wet and tense in anticipation.

He stood up and got the pillows from the bed and put them
behind me. He made me lean back and relax. I got a
private strip show as he took off his clothes. They all
went onto the pile in the other chair, one after the
other. He stopped when he just had his shorts on. I could
see his cock, stiff, almost peeking out of the elastic
band. He looked down at me, at the panties I was still
wearing. I gave him a little show of my own. I reached
under my ass and slid them off my cheeks, letting the
fabric roll up as the panties came off. At the same time
I spread my legs wide open. He would have been staring
right down my pussy, except for the damp panel of white
fabric between my legs. I gave him a naughty smile, I was
teasing him because I know he loves to look at me. I wet
two fingertips and slid them behind that barrier to his
sight. I didn't have to fake playing with myself or how
good it felt. I knew I was driving him crazy, he loves to
watch me come, and here it was all happening behind this
little veil of cloth. I was so wet, I would have loved to
have just kept going, but I wanted him to take his shorts
off too. So I closed my legs very reluctantly, and slowly
pulled the panties down to my ankles. I slipped my feet
out of them and threw them with a little flourish onto
the pile in the other chair. I put my hands between my
knees and made a big show of spreading my legs again, my
hands sliding down my thighs as I hooked my legs over the
chair arms. Now he really could look right down my pussy,
which was what I wanted of course. And that was exactly
what he was doing.

He tried to be as coy. Sometimes in the past he'd made me
rub him and kiss him through his shorts. This time I was
too far away, instead he just peeled them slowly over the
head of his cock as he took them off. I've got to admit
the sight of a stiff cock gets me pretty wound up. I
started stroking my pussy, watching his cock bobbing in
front of me. I got my fingers wet in my mouth. My pussy
was already pretty wide open from my position and my
previous fingering of myself, I reached down and start
spreading the wetness around, letting my fingers dive
inside me, showing him where I wanted his cock.

He knelt in front of me again, and kissed me slowly on my
legs, letting his kiss trail down my thigh and across the
stiff tendon in my groin. I kept working my pussy,
getting it wetter, til he started to lick me himself.
Then I let him take over, like I said before he's an
expert at going down on me. I just got a grip on my
thighs just behind the knee and pulled myself as open as
I could make myself be.

He was very careful, he could feel how excited I already
was. His tongue fluttered over my clit, I get hot just
thinking about it. When he felt me getting too close to
letting go, he'd pull back, stop kissing me and just
lightly massage me with his fingers, all around my pussy.
He put his fingers in me, stroking as he kissed my clit.

I was losing it fast. I started to beg for him to fuck
me, just little panting "fuck me, fuck me pleases. I
really wanted his cock. He straightened up and put his
cock against the outside of my pussy, the slick pink
walls he had been kissing and stroking. I wet my fingers
again and made his cockhead wet, pulling and stroking on
it. Then I spread my lips and let him slide into me. As
hungry as we both were, he gave me an inch at a time,
pulling out and sliding in, before he was completely
inside me. Each stroke got a groan from me, I was
quivering. Once he had it all inside, he gave me some
long deep strokes that left my whole body singing.

He pulled a little ways out of me. It made a space
between us so that he could reach down and stroke my
clit. He wet his thumb and rested his hand on my patch of
hair. His thumb fell naturally across my clit. He
alternated stroking my clit and keeping his cock still
with stroking his cock into me and letting his thumb stay
just in contact with my clit. I couldn't take it, and
when his thumb started circling my clit again I knew I
was coming. I let it wash over me in big waves. I felt my
pussy clamp down on his cock, it felt so good having him
tight inside me as I came. I heaved up and down and drove
his cock all the way into me, that set off another wave
of pure pleasure.

I felt like I was floating in a kind of luminous haze,
shot through with light and thunder. I was still very
aware of my body, and his, but the rest of the world had
gone away. He was fucking me again, I could feel him
stiff and thick, sliding in and out of me. I was super
tight around him. He came really deep inside me, it felt
great, just floating there, taking his come, wrapped
around his cock.

Usually, we'd both collapse after fucking that hard. This
time, just as I felt him getting soft inside me, he slid
out and stood up. His cock was dripping with our mixed
fluids. I guessed at what he wanted next, so I leaned
forward and grabbed his ass and pulled him close. I
started licking and sucking his cock, cleaning up all the
delicious juices I could find. He really liked it, I felt
him get hard again in my mouth. He knelt again, and slid
into my pussy again. After a few strokes he pulled out
all wet and glistening again, and again I sucked him
clean.

I was getting really turned on, sucking him like that,
tasting all that pussy juice and cum in my mouth. When he
knelt again I told him to fuck me really hard. I got
really crazy as he rammed it into me and I licked my
lips, smelling his cum on my breath. I came again, hard,
clamping down on his cock.

We got up and staggered to the bed and fell into it. We
both fell instantly asleep. About two in the morning I
woke up and pulled him over on top of me and got fucked
again, a dreamy slow screw full of kissing and holding
him tight, the kind where he's a dark shape covering you,
filling you, making you feel safe and erotic at the same
time.

When the wakeup call came, I was on top, coming one last
time before I had to go. We showered together, soaping
each other up, but I couldn't let it go too far. I can't
remember a single word anyone said to me the whole day
after, I was in a walking daze, going over and over what
had happened the night before.

Well... thats all I wanted to tell you for now. I gotta
say, you've got the world's longest answering machine
tape. Sayonara, kiddo...

Telephone Tag by Tammy Ng

OK, Dee Dee, two can play the long hot phone message
game. While you're at the office making goo-goo eyes with
the investment bankers, I can abuse your unprotected
answering machine at home in Brooklyn. Big mistake on
your part, sister. Maybe you should get a chastity belt
for it, eh?

For your information, I was in the shower when you called
yesterday, and I wasn't doing a single one of those nasty
things that you accused me of doing. Well, maybe one or
two, but the point is, I was not getting off in the
shower, which was the gist of what you were saying. I'm
sure the idea came very naturally to mind for you,
because ever since I can remember you always took forever
in the shower, and I'm quite sure you spent most of the
time getting yourself off in just the way you described.
Anyway, I wasn't doing those things because I wasn't
alone. My boyfriend was over, and we were going to go out
together, so I didn't have time for any fun and games.

In case you haven't figured it out yet, blabber mouth,
that means he was waiting while I was showering. He got
to listen to your whole long winded message, while you
were leaving it! This is almost as good as the time you
flashed your tits out of our bedroom window in high
school, and it was my boyfriend out there in the dark who
had been throwing pebbles at the window! He played the
whole thing back for me as soon as I got out of the
shower.

We listened to it twice, and we're sure that you had one
finger on your clit the whole time you were talking. You
did so much heavy breathing we thought you were trying
out for a phone-sex line or something. Maybe I could just
forward the tape to 1-900-CUM-TALK for you...

Anyway, enough about you.

There I was sitting on the edge of the bed. My hair was
all turbaned up in this big fluffy white towel, and I was
wearing that bright yellow silk lounger with the green
dragon on it that I found in Vancouver when I went back
home last year. So he, meaning my boyfriend, for sisters
with short attention spans, gets behind me on the bed and
offers to help me dry my hair. Fine, so I lean my head
back and plant my arms behind me and he takes down my
hair and starts towelling it dry. This felt really nice,
almost as nice as being shampooed by somebody else, which
I'm sure you agree, is incredibly sexy and its a terrible
waste that all these hunky hairdresser types could do
your hair and not have the slightest interest in your
pussy. It would make it a much better deal if they went
down on you as long as they were going to charge $130 for
taking off two inches of hair. I digress.

I was quite aware that sitting like this, I had my tits
sticking out in front of me like I was so proud of
winning a 4H contest with them or something. I doubt this
was lost on my quick witted boyfriend. Not that I mind
showing off for him. It felt kind of nice, nipples waving
in the air, all puckered and hard. Kneeling behind me on
the bed, he had a great view, and I'm sure was enjoying
every minute of it. So when I took the towel from him and
leaned forward to dry my hair the other way, with it
falling over in front of me, I wasn't too suprised that
he just pulled the lounger back and started playing with
my boobs as they half swung in front of me. I just held
my elbows out to give him a little room and kept
towelling away. His hands crept around me and slid under
my tits, lifting them away and pulling a little on them.
They flowed over his warm hands and flopped back against
my chest with a little slap. He did this a few times then
squashed them against me and grabbed my nips and squeezed
really hard. I almost dropped the towel it felt so good.

I just sat there with my elbows on my knees, enjoying it.
This was one of those times that some channel opens
between your boobs and your pussy and everything he does
up there feels like its happening down there too. I'm
sure you know what I mean. It usually happens for me when
he's biting my nipple and he pulls it slowly between his
teeth, feels like my clit is getting sucked at the same
time. Well, he was wriggling my nips around, pinching
them, with my tits pressed against my ribcage. What a
feeling. I felt myself getting warm all over, and I
smelled my pussy like it was starting to steam or
something.

He took his hands off my tits and I thought oh well
partys over, back to being a good girl, so I started
towelling again. But my boobs were all swollen now and my
pussy smell was getting stronger. I slid the towel over
my boobs a few times to see if that relieved the tension
I was feeling, but it made matters worse instead of
better. He was gonna pay for this. Maybe I'd wear no
panties, and make sure he knew it, and make him tramp
around art galleries all afternoon with me, and slap his
hand away every time he tried to grab me. I'd bend over
and flash him from across the room, but not let him touch
me when he was right next to me. That'd serve him right
for getting me hot and bothered.

While I was thinking of revenge, I didn't notice that he
had slipped the belt of my lounger out of its loopholes.
The next thing I know, he reached around me and passed it
across my tummy. The warm yellow silk suprised me, a
querying "Hey?!" escaped my lips. He rubbed the sash side
to side across my belly. With each pass it slid upwards
slightly, soon he had caught my breasts up in a silken
sling, one that rubbed back and forth across them.
Varying the angle or tension of the sash, he could press
my tits against my chest, or let the yellow silk barely
kiss my nipples. He could catch one or the other or both
of my boobs, and make the silk pass under or over the
other as it slid.

After I got over my suprise, I just let myself get into
the feeling of the silk stroking my skin. I was getting
really wet. I wondered what it would feel like to have
that kind of silky stroking on my pussy, if I stood up
and he passed the belt between my legs. I imagined
pulling the silk belt through my scratchy dark patch of
pussy hair and over my pussy lips and across my ass
cheeks. Not pressing it down so hard that it split my
lips open and dived into the slick little pussy crack or
slipped between my ass cheeks. Not right away. No, just
glide over the outside and let the pull get transmitted
inward by all the layers sliding one on the other. Yes,
that would be nice, all those juicy folds rubbing back
and forth, massaging each other and the little clit
inside them all.

He stopped. I was thinking, here's my chance, I'll just
sit on my knees on the bed and he can pass the belt under
me and give me a cunt rub like I had just been
fantasizing about. He had other ideas. He dropped the
belt across my legs, then reached down and took hold of
my forearms. I started to struggle, but he was
practically lying on me, above and behind me. I was
helpless, I couldn't stop him from pulling my arms behind
me. Not that he was rough, just very firm, like he had
something in mind and wanted to have it happen just like
he planned it.

Picking the belt up again, he put it to my face. The
yellow silk passed across my eyes like a blindfold,
around and across my lips like a gag, tied in the back.
He lifted my arms and tied my wrists with the ends, so
they were held close to my neck, my arms up and around my
head. My hair was still pushed over my head in front of
me, now he scooped it up and brought it back over my
head, hiding the knot in the silk belt. My head fell back
as it had before, but this time I couldn't support myself
with my arms. I had to arch my back even more to stay
upright, and my tits stood out even more prominently than
they had before.

He had never tied me up before. We had talked about it
once, I remember telling him it gave me a little thrill
to think about it. Well now I was doing it, and the
thrill was intense. I'm sure I could have pulled
everything off if I had cared to, I still felt safe. But
I was also very hot. The sudden thrust of my breasts
forward unleashed a flood of juice in my pussy. I wanted
to be taken, to cry tears of pleasure while floating in a
yellow silk world, to scream as loudly as I cared to into
the silk barrier at my mouth. Bondage was the freedom to
feel as intensely as I wanted, to let it happen to me
with the last strand of control washed away and
forgotten.

Your other senses are, indeed, clearer when you cannot
see. I felt the shifting of the bed beneath me and knew
he was moving off the bed to stand in front of me. I
heard the rustle and scrape of hands and cloth and knew
he was stripping. I felt his heat fill the space between
my legs and bring my own smell more powerfully to my
nose. Still he hadn't touched me. The blood in my temples
pounded underneath the yellow silk as I anticipated his
touch.

I heard him wet his lips, and felt his mouth on my
nipple. He started to suck and I twisted, thrusting my
breast into his mouth. I moaned behind my gag, deep. He
sucked greedily, taking me into his mouth, tongue
swirling around my nipple. Backing off a bit, he pressed
my nipple against the roof of his mouth and sucked the
way a baby does, but with the force of a man.

You know one time when Aunt Patty came to visit us with
her new baby? It was when we were about 15. She was
nursing it. Well one day we were talking, sitting in the
living room and I asked if I could hold him and she said
yes, but you'll have to give him back if he wakes up and
wants to be fed. So I held him and we talked some more,
and then Mom called Aunt Patty into the kitchen for
something. I was looking down at the baby's little face
when I saw him start to pucker and suck. He was starting
to fidget and kick. I figured why bother Aunt Patty, and
anyway I wonder how it feels? So I lifted my tee shirt
and slipped out my boob and just turned his little face a
bit so he faced into my nipple. Well as soon as his lips
touched me he slurped my tit up as fast as he could. His
mouth was wet and warm, and his toothless gums worked
against my nipple while he suckled. I must have gasped,
maybe it was the first time I had ever felt that open
channel between breast and pussy. I was being instantly
turned on by this child at my breast. I didn't know what
to do, sitting there in the living room, Mom and Aunt
Patty chatting in the kitchen, getting so hot from the
sucking of a baby. The baby solved the problem by crying
over not getting any milk from me. I pulled my tit away
and pulled down my shirt. As Aunt Patty came in from the
kitchen, I practically jumped up and pushed the baby into
her arms. "He's hungry," I said, almost over my back as I
ran up the stairs to our bedroom. I shut the door and
fell on the bed, worming my jeans off. I reached up under
my shirt and started pinching my nipple while I dug my
other hand into my pussy. I was so wet already, I came
pretty quick. But I digress.

While he sucked me I felt his hands start to stroke my
pussy. Just a tender carress, ruffling through my pussy
hair. He was teasing me, knowing everything was making me
hotter and hotter. He stopped sucking and moved away, I
heard him rummaging on my dressing table. I felt him
return to his position between my legs, I wondered what
was next for me.

He gave my nips a last kiss, then started to rub them
with something. Something rough and smooth, like a string
- that was it - my old leather boot lace! It had been
lying here discarded after the end had broken. He turned
it around my nipple in a loop, then I felt him turn the
end under the loop to make a knot. In the moment he
hesitated before tightening it, I tried to anticipate
what it would feel like. Then he pulled the ends apart,
and the loop took hold of my nipple. It was like a steady
bite. I felt my pulse throbbing in my nipple. He pulled
the knot slowly off, lifting my boob by the nipple until
the leather loop slid free. He tied my other nipple, a
little tighter, then also pulled it off. Then he tied
both nipples tight, one with each end of the leather
lace. Each of my nips gave a little pulse of pleasure
every time my heart beat. I felt my pussy juice trickling
out of me, threatening to wet my asshole.

Suddenly, I felt him begin to gently massage my pussy. He
must have had a hair brush in each hand, and was very
gently using them on my pussy. I wanted him to have as
much room as possible, so I fell back on the bed and let
my legs flop open. My tits would normally have slid
outwards but the bond holding my nipples held them in
place. He used the brushes on my thighs, letting them
trail along my skin from inside my knees down to my
pussy.

After a while he laid the brushes on the floor and rolled
me over, so that my ass was sticking up in the air. Now
my tits swung free beneath me. He got up and rummaged
again, this time in my nightstand, where I kept my
vibrator. I don't use my little tool for anything fancy,
I just lay it close alongside my clit and let it buzz
until I'm stuck to the ceiling. He had other plans. He
knelt beside me on the bed. He opened my sweaty palm, and
I felt him squeeze some KY jelly into my hand. He made it
squish all around in my hand til my fingers and palm were
covered. Behind my head, I heard him turn the vibrator
on, the buzz sent a little thrill right through me. He
touched the head of the vibrator to my palm, then closed
my fingers around the sex toy. He made it fuck my
lubricated hand, making sure the whole length of it got
slick. Then he clicked it off and withdrew it. Opening my
hand, he scraped some of the remaining jelly off with his
finger.

He slid off the bed and stood behind me. I knew from the
moment he took that extra lube on his finger that the
viberator was meant for my asshole. I''ve never taken
anything up my ass before. He slicked me up on the
outside with his finger. He turned on the vibrator again,
and touched its head to my asshole. I groaned into the
gag on my mouth. While he played with the toy around my
hole I willed myself to relax, to accept the amazing new
feelings he was giving me. Finally, he centered the head
of it over my hole and started to gently press into me.
After a moments panic I relaxed again, and took the
buzzing head of it. It wasn't cock shaped, just a simple
hard white plastic wand, so it had no flared head that
needed forcing.

Well, Dee Dee, what can I say? I got my ass fucked with a
vibrator and I loved it. You've probably never done it
either, but I strongly recommend taking some quiet,
tender moment between you and that stud of yours, and
enhancing it by taking your vibe, slicking it up, and put
it in his hands with the words "fuck my tight little ass"
whispered in his ear. I got really vocal as he opened me
with it, I think he got scared he was hurting me. I think
I reassured him when I rocked my hips to meet his rhythm,
taking more and more of it. Its a different kind of
filled up feeling than when you get fucked, but still
very exciting. He never went very fast, just eased it in
and out. He took his other hand and played with my clit.
I came right away, white hot. I could feel the vibe slide
out of me as I came, it was just an incredible feeling.

I turned over, kind of exhausted, but still very aroused.
He put away all the toys, sat on the bed next to me and
undid all the knots and pulled the sash away from my
face. As soon as I was free I pulled his head down to me
and kissed him really hard. I reached down between his
legs for his cock and led it very willingly into my
pussy. I was crazy for his cock inside me, I wanted it
all, as hard and as fast as he could give it to me. There
was something very satisfying about getting fucked after
having the vibe in my ass. I was so happy making love to
him, I felt two wonderful orgasmic waves wash over me
before he came. We just lay there afterwards, cooling
off. I felt like the building could have burned down
around me and I still wouldn't have been able to move.

When we felt like moving again I told him he had ruined
all my plans for the day, because I thought that he was
just going to tease me. I told him about my diabolical
plan to get back at him by flashing him as we ignored
pompous works of art offered for sale at ridiculous
prices. He said it still sounded good to him. So I got up
and dressed in a nice short skirt that I could lift or
lower quickly and we headed out. To minimize interference
we chose the most dreadful boring art we could find, and
then ignored it while playing peek-a-boo. I got him so
hot and bothered that when we got back to my apartment we
stopped on the second landing in the stairwell and
started screwing right there. I heard a door open from
higher up almost as soon as he got inside me, so we
stopped and ran for the apartment. When we got inside we
slammed the door and started screwing again as fast as we
could. It was great, humping away in the living room.

Well, enough about me. Like I said, get thee to a
vibrator, and have some fun. And don't forget to tell
your sister all about it if you do!

Woke Up This Morning by Deidre Ng

Dear Tammy,

The answering machine wars are over. I surrender
unconditionally in the face of your superior erotic
firepower. From now on I will conduct a guerilla
resistance movement via e-mail.

I'm so glad to hear that you enjoyed getting a vibrator
up your ass. Really, it made my day. What a coincidence
that we have the same kind. Maybe it has something to do
with me always finding _my_ vibrator hidden in _your_
pile of underwear at home. Or perhaps with the time you
gave my high school boyfriend three quarters of a hand
job before you realized you had pounced on the wrong half
of a double date. This is a warning, Tammy. The past is a
messy place, not to mention hot and sticky in places.
There's lots we can tease each other about, so tread
lightly. I'm still trusting you that you put his dick
back in his pants ( your version ) instead of blowing him
( his version ).

I shouldn't have to say this to a sister as eroticly
minded as you, but have you thought about turning the
tables on your sweetie and giving _him_ the vibe up _his_
ass? Perhaps while he's on all fours and his cock is
fucking your mouth and you've got your other hand teasing
his balls? My prediction: dramatically shorter time to
orgasm for the big stud. If you can't guess what I base
my prediction on, you are utterly clueless. Spring for
another and you could 69 with Mr. Manflesh while you both 
gave it to each other two ways at once. I think this
called 138, but I'm not sure. And don't even think of
asking to borrow mine, now that I've suggested this to
you...

There were times, when we lived at home together, that
you would get up first so that you could claim the
shower. That was really nice of you, because then I could
lie in bed and wake myself up by making myself come ever
so slowly. One slow moving hand, and a dream of a man's
face between my legs, tongue moving in slow circles on my
clit. I had your shower timed pretty well so that you'd
come back into our bedroom towelling your hair just after
I'd curled up in a post orgasmic ball. I'd hear the water
shut off and know it was time to bring on my climax.

Well, I was practicing my slow hand this morning, and I
didn't hear the water turn off, so my boyfriend walked in
on me with my legs up and one hand curled behind my head
and the other one deep in a really sticky place. I was
whimpering, because I was really close, and I think he
got to watch me for maybe ten seconds before I caught on
that he was standing next to the bed. I looked up at him
and smiled. And then I closed my eyes again, because I
was coming.

It's not so strange for him to watch me come. He likes to
watch. He says it helps him know what I like. But I
always knew he was watching, before this morning. I think
today was the first time he ever saw me without a shadow
of a doubt unselfconciously pleasuring myself. Not that I
think it was so different, but there was something to the
moment.

He knows what my fantasy is, that it's a man sucking me
that makes me come. It used to be a pretty generic
fantasy, but now its him between my legs when I come. He
knows that too. So there I was, kind of floating back to
down to earth, when I felt him kiss my sticky fingers. It
was so perfect, I just moaned and squirmed a little, and
moved my fingers aside to let him kiss me directly on the
clit. He followed my fingers, and licked the juice off
them, before turning back to my pussy.

In the middle he let me turn over, and press my pussy
down on his face. I love this so much, it always makes me
come fast. When I came, I lay down on top of him, his
erection between us. After I caught my breath I asked him
if he wanted to be inside me. He just smiled, which I
took for a yes, so I picked myself up and eased him in.
Even though I was on top, he did most of the moving. Soon
I was getting shot full of his come. He sucked my breasts
while I kissed the top of his head. I sat up with him
inside me, looked down at him, and smiled. He motioned
for me to turn around, so I slid him out of me and turned
around on top of him. We licked each other off, all the
love juices mixed together, him probing with his tongue
deep into my pussy, my lips spread wide on his face, me
taking all of his now limpid cock into my mouth.

He said later that seeing me so aroused made him
instantly erect, especially that I had looked right at
him and then slipped into the possession of my orgasm.
The way my eyes had closed as my eyeballs rolled back and
my back arched against the coming seizure, he said it was
perfect.

I was 45 minutes late to the office, but as we stood on
the subway into Manhattan I held him close, and thought
that he was pretty close to perfect, too.

In Your Mouth and Mine by Tammy Ng

Dear Deidre,

I am shocked, _shocked_ to hear that you are so
knowlegable about men and anal stimulation. Not that you
know so much, no no, that you've held out on me for so
long that's the shocking thing. I'm sure you're right,
though. The faintest little scratch with my fingernail
gets him moaning. Maybe sometime right after I've broken
one I'll file it all the way down and then suprise him
with a little greased lightning. If he likes it I'll try
your vibe suggestion.

I'll tread lightly in the past if you do, sister. Your
boyfriend was quite familiar with blowjobs, if I recall
correctly. When I walked in on you a week before, it was
my bed he was leaning back on, while you gave it to him
mouthwise. I didn't say a word except to ask you to
change my sheets for me, that night before we went to
sleep. What I saw in that second was a big part of my
fantasy life until I screwed up the courage to take my
own guy in the mouth. I had had my hands around his cock
before then, but to see you kneeling in front of him, his
cock all wet maybe halfway down...

I think I saw just one full stroke, one bob of your head
down onto his tool and back, before I stepped back and
shut the door again. I ran to the bathroom and locked the
door and sat down on the toilet, shaking. Had I really
seen you taking all that in, had I really heard a little
gurgle of pleasure slip from your throat? I thought about
it over and over. I thought about it as I slipped my
panties down around my ankles. I thought about it as I
lifted my skirt. As I started to touch myself I thought
that you were the luckiest girl on earth, because at that
moment down the hall from me, you had a cock sliding
almost down your throat and you were soon going to be
tasting him like I had never dared to dream of. I put my
juice on my lips and ran my finger around my half open
mouth, wishing I was smelling a cock under my nose.

I wanted my mouth to stretch like yours around a man's
shaft. Most of all I wanted him to come in my mouth, to
taste him suddenly. I licked two fingers and slid them
over my clit, spreading my lips with my other hand. One
finger on each side, hood pulling back a bit each time I
stroked myself, wet, so wet, imagining a cock in my
mouth. I imagined you two kissing, standing, and you
stroking the fabric of his jeans. You fumble with the
zipper while your tongues dance, put your hand inside and
squeeze him through his briefs. He undoes his belt and
his jeans fall to the floor, you slide your hand under
the elastic and work the briefs off him. His cock pops
out and you take it in your hand. You stop kissing long
enough to wet your hand, especially your thumb and index
finger. You go back to kissing him, but now you're
pumping his cock with your wet hand, wet tight circle of
thumb and finger. Maybe he steps back and sit on the edge
of my bed and pulls you down to kneel between his legs,
and presses your head onto his cock. Maybe you push him
back, and he lands on my bed suprised, because today a
handful of cum just won't satisfy you.

The second possibility makes me hotter, my pussy twitches
each time I imagine the first stroke of your head down
his cock, his strangled moan. You stop and look up at him
and put you finger to your lips, and then the sign for
quiet dissolves as you lick your finger and slide it down
the split in his cock head, down over the sensitive folds
of skin beneath, and then take him again in your mouth.
Up and down, sucking and licking, catch your breath and
then take him again, hurrying now, you don't want to miss
the moment he explodes in you. Circling my clit with two
fingers, faster and faster, I thought about your boy
friend coming in your mouth over and over until I came,
sitting there on the toilet, down the hall from my sister
and her boyfriend making love.


>From then on, I always got really wet thinking about it,
what I saw in that instant, it was what I thought about
most often when I wanted to come. I fantasized that I
actually saw him coming in your mouth, saw the white
semen slipping out around your lips as you continued to
slide down his shaft after he came, the flow of it
filling your mouth. I fantasized that he saw me at the
door and invited me in to finish him, and that you had to
stand there watching while I brought him to a tremendous
climax, and I got to feel the rush of cum down my throat.
Such are the dreams of little girls too scared to do it
yet themselves, so envious of their sisters who have
crossed over farther into womanhood.

I know that knowing this probably doesn't make you feel
any better about that double date. But would I tell you
this if what I said wasn't true? I had his cock in my
hand, yes. You don't know how much I wanted to go down on
him, even after he called me by your name, and I knew 
that in the dark I had unzipped the wrong fly.

I've got to take a big breath before I write this, and I
don't know if you'll ever understand why its so important
to me. The thing that got to me the most, that day, was
your hair. Was it hot that day, did he think it was cute,
did you? You had your hair up in pigtails as you sucked
him. FUCKING PIGTAILS! You looked like a little girl,
like you had never even had your first period! Like you
were younger than I was, and you had a man in your mouth
already!

I'm crying. I hope you're happy. Bitch. Crying all over
the Internet because of you giving your boyfriend a
blowjob with your hair up in pigtails.

Well, enough of true confessions. Its later and I reread
what I wrote and I'll let it stand. Just so there's
nothing between us. I still love you.

Just to stay on topic, as they say, I like my boyfriend
in the face as much as he'll give it to me. I like to
take him real slow, wrap my hands around him, suck his
cock head as tight as I can. Lick him like a lollipop,
let him watch my tongue move around. I love that first
little taste of him. He's usually fucking my mouth pretty
hard when I notice it, I'm concentrating on staying with
his rhythm. not getting choked, not letting him slip
away. I breath and its there. Pretty soon it'll be
stronger. Now its just the slightest salty taste, like
the taste of an ocean breeze. Sometimes I can go to the
beach, face out to sea and breathe deep, and suddenly get
so wet, because the ocean reminds me of his taste. It's
that first little taste that makes me get into sucking
him like crazy. I wish I could come from blowing him,
then. But its rewarding enough to take his climax bye and
bye, when he fills me up and my mouth overflows. Some I
swallow, some dribbles away, sliding over my chin and
down my neck, between my boobs. Sometimes he paints my
lips with it, and I sit panting, tongue going round and
round in a circle, following his cock.

At least, that's how it was this morning.

As I've Seen by Deidre Ng

Dear Tammy,

Thank you for your last note, for _everything_ you wrote.
It's strange how an incident can gain such importance for
one person, yet another barely remembers what happened. I
do remember that day, getting frisky with my boyfriend up
in our bedroom, going down on him. At the time I remember
being scared/excited about taking the risk of blowing him
in our house. I don't think either of us ever noticed
that you caught a glimpse of our fun. I'm sorry if you
felt hurt, but it sounds like you felt more hot than
hurt!

One day I was eating lunch at the South Street Seaport,
Pier 17. I had a table on the third floor, in the big
open area at the end of the pier. I was on the north
side, right against the glass wall of the building. I sat
there because I love the view of the Brooklyn Bridge.
Little did I know there was another view to be had from
that seat. If you looked down, you saw into a stairwell
on the outside of the building, which apparently was
something of a lovers lane. That day I happened to look
down, because I dropped my soda straw. I looked under the
table to retreive it and out the window caught two lovers
in the act.

They were both Wall Street types, suits and such. She had
a brown overcoat (it was March), and underneath what
looked like a standard Evan Picone corporate ensemble.
Short brown hair, kinda perky, a few freckles and a big
wide mouth with lots of teeth when she smiled. He was
your typical GQ wannabe. When I looked down, Mr. Wannabe
had his hand inside her suit, squeezing her breast
through the crisp white blouse she was wearing. They were
kissing, kisses landing all over each others face and
neck and ears.


After a particularly long, deep kiss the GQ'er whispered
something in her ear. She looked around, over the
railing, downward (but not up!). Then she picked up her
leg and planted her foot on the lowest crossbar of the
railing. As she did, her knee length skirt rode up her
thigh. She was wearing white stockings. They were only
thigh high! She flipped her overcoat over her exposed
leg. GQer's hand dropped out of sight under her dress.

I found that I couldn't stop looking. I leaned against
the glass wall, sipping my soda, eyes down. I wondered if
she was wearing panties. I wondered if anyone else was
watching them. I wondered if anyone was watching me.

For a few moments nothing happened, or seemed to happen.
They kissed, lips swiftly opening and closing on each
other. Then just as the came together in a kiss, the
woman's face flowered into a huge smile. I imagined that
either he had conquered some impediment to touching her,
or had quit teasing her and decided to pleasure her in
earnest. From then on they stopped kissing. Their faces
hovered close to each other, I'm sure they could feel
each others breath.

I could follow the progress of her lovers hand by the
expression on her face. That and the knowlege of exactly
how it would feel, how it did feel, to stand with one leg
out and have your lover's hand move, carress, plunge and
tease.

She smiled. Her eyes closed. She said something, and the
tip of her tongue ran around her lips. She shifted her
stance slightly and bit her lip. The smile never left her
face. All of a sudden she gasped, her back arched and
then relaxed. Had he just penetrated her? Had he just
exposed her clit, touching it directly for the first
time? I couldn't tell. My own pussy was wet, that I knew,
wet through to my panties already. I could feel myself
throbbing, and each twitch of her face I found myself
copying. I jumped a little when she gasped, and as her
mouth fell open, so did mine. The only difference was
that her eyes were closed and mine were wide open. Her
legs were open and mine were shut, and I was squeezing my
thighs together as I watched.

He brought his hand out of her skirt, and waved his
fingers under her nose. She caught the middle one in her
mouth, licked it, sucked it, tasted whatever scent it
carried of her own pussy. She made it drip with her
saliva and he took it back, making it disappear between
her legs. Her face was a mask of anticipation. I knew he
had found his place again, wetter now, slicker now. Her
head began to tilt back, but her jaw held still, and her
mouth opened wider and wider. Her back arched, she was
looking straight up. If she hadn't been blinded by the
sun and passion, she would have seen me, watching her
ratchet closer and closer to her climax.

She was trembling. Her whole jaw was taut. Just her lower
lip was quivering, pulling tighter and tighter. I knew
she must be feeling the aura of her climax approaching,
the premonition of ecstasy. Her hips wanted to thrust,
she wanted to throw her legs open, but given her standing
position, she could only satisfy that need by slowly
rotating her hips around the axis of his hand.

Suddenly she pitched forward, her face landing on his
shoulder. A look that could be mistaken for pain
flickered across her features, mistaken perhaps if you
didn't know what an orgasm felt like. She lay her head on
his shoulder as her whole body twitched for a while
longer. I thought I saw little tears collect in the
corner of her eye. My own pussy was drenched, tight,
pulsing, I could feel my pusle in my throat, my nipples
pushing hard against my bra.

She pulled the hair out of her face. He wriggled his hand
free, which gave her a few aftershocks. My pussy thudded
as her lip curled in pleasure. She brought her leg down
and smoothed out her skirt, the evidence of thigh high
hose and no panties disappearing under the plain
corporate exterior. He brought his hand up to her lips
again and she kissed his finger and then their tongues
were meeting as he held his finger between their mouths,
and they both licked up her juices. Then they went away.

I got up and staggered back to the office. They could
have worked in my building, or any of a hundred buildings
in lower Manhattan. Riding the elevator back to my floor,
I was sure everyone could smell my pussy. I ducked into
the bathroom. In a stall, I stripped off my panties and
nylons. I really wanted to touch myself, but I decided to
wait til I got home. I hid my bare legs under my desk the
whole afternoon.

About four o'clock, my boyfriend called. At first it was
just details of everyday life, who's going to the
cleaners, who's going to the store. The conversation
started to drift, until I heard him ask quite casually,
"Oh, and would you like me to fuck you when you get home
this evening?" My mouth went dry as my pussy went wet.
"Sure, sure," I said, "that sounds good, look, I've got
to go, sorry to cut you off, but three people are
hovering over me waiting for things I'm supposed to be
finished with. Bye". I hung up. My secretary cocked her
eyebrow at me.

I knew he'd be home, waiting for me.

I stopped and looked at myself in the mirror as I stepped
off the elevator. Our apartment door was open a crack,
the light inside spilling into the hallway. It creaked
open and I slipped inside, leaning back on it to push it
closed. He was sitting at the kitchen table, writing in
the checkbook. Leaning against the door, still facing
him, I reached over my shoulder and turned the latch,
then crooked my finger and beckoned him, smiling.

We stood there, kissing. He was a little tentative, he
certainly didn't know where I was coming from. As we
kissed I lifted my skirt, and holding it up, guided his
hand underneath. I felt like a schoolgirl, showing her
first boyfriend where she needs him to touch her. His
hand fell on my mound of hair. I'm sure he was suprised
to find nothing between his fingers and me. He started
rubbing my pussy hair, running his fingers through it. We
kissed harder, more passionately. His fingers slid around
my lips, massaging me from the outside. I moaned,
guttural, and pressed myself backward so that I could
turn my legs out as much as I could.

He gave me his finger to suck. I knew he would split my
lips open with it, unfold me, reveal me. I gave him a
good sucking, and waited for his touch. He reached far
under me. Starting from the back he parted my cunt lips. 
As soon as he pressed them apart they spread open, his
finger dipped into my pussy, gathering more moisture.
Sliding slowly forward, lubricating as he went, I
flowered at his touch. My clit practically leapt to meet
his finger when it finally arrived at the forward end of
my slit. My nipples throbbed as he worked around my clit
with his finger, gently stroking the shaft, applying the
lightest touch to the head. I whimpered.

Very reluctantly, I pulled his hand away. I brought it
back up to my mouth. His finger was thick with my juice,
my smell. I licked it up. Then I put his three middle
fingers in my mouth at once and sucked them, rolled them
with my tongue, made them heavy with my saliva. He knew
what I was getting at. Slipping them from my mouth, he
moved them back down to my cunt. Now his hand slid
backward, over my clit, along my folds and vallies, to
the tender pink depths of my pussy. One by one his
fingers slipped inside me. I groaned, let go of my skirt
and put my hands behind my head. He pressed his fingers
deeper, and I met his pressing with a thrust of my hips.
I felt a strong contraction in the walls of my pussy, a
wave of ecstasy spread out from between my legs.

He had needed the saliva just at first to penetrate me.
Now my juice was washing over him, I could hear the wet
sounds of his fingers sliding in and out as he fucked me
with his hand. For leverage he put the base of his palm
just above my clit, in my pussy hair. As he pushed and
pulled with his fingers I felt the tug in my clit as
well.

My hips were thrashing. I reached around his head to kiss
him. Our mouths met, but mine hung half open. I was
rapidly approaching climax. He pressed hard against the
front wall of my pussy as his fingers slid wildly in and
out. My pussy pulsed around him and I came, jerking
forward with the same motion as I had seen done by the
woman in the stairwell, earlier that day. Maybe my face
carried the same look.

He did fuck me, later. He picked me up and carried me to
the bedroom and lay me down on the bed, still in my
business clothes. He put me on all fours and lifted my
skirt. I reached through my legs and felt his cock, wet
it with my spit and guided it in. It felt very erotic,
getting fucked in my clothes. From behind he gets so
deep, deeper than any other position. We got moving
together and he fingered my ass, til I exploded. He came
with me, gasping and crying from the force of it. We
rested with him deep inside me, his cock twitching as the
last threads of cum spilled out.

So, you see I've had my own voyeuristic experience. I
wish I could meet that woman, and thank her.

Thank goodness, we both have lovers. Here's how each
couple met.

Sisters Ng:	Tammy Seduces Her Boyfriend by Tammy Ng

Dear Dee-Dee,

I'm glad to hear that there are no hard feelings, except
those of our boyfriends. Thank you for your last message,
now I know where to meet you for lunch! Once I was in a
cafeteria at school and I saw a girl standing near the
salad bar. She was holding a carrot stick in her hand. I
saw her look across the room and catch someones eye, then
she licked the carrot like she was going to go down on
it. I couldn't pick out who she was trying to turn on,
probably her boyfriend.

Did I ever tell you how I met my boyfriend? I think all
I've said before is that we met in a photography class.
There is slightly more to the story than that, as you
might expect.

I always looked for cute guys in my classes, it was such
a natural way to meet. You always had something in
common, and if you really got along, pulling an all
nighter became an appealing double entendre. So there I
was in Photo 12something. It was meeting in this big
auditorium, and kids sat all over, about one per row. The
first week I spotted this guy, cute, brown hair, glasses.
Second week, I sit in his row. Third week, I get there
early, he has to say excuse me and squeeze past to get to
his seat. I smile. He smiles. He blushes. This guy is
shy. I say, gee we have the same camera body (Nikon, so
does the rest of the class). What lenses does he have?
Filters? Maybe we could do the next assignment together
and swap equipment. OK. The prof announces our next 
assignment, playgrounds. Yuk. We spend three hours
waiting for something interesting to happen at a local
nursery school. The kids go home. I say how about you
take me playing with all these kid toys? I act like a
fool, goofing around on the swings, slide, etc. while he
snaps away. At least it breaks the ice. Next week, we do
trees together.

Next week, and I lean over and whisper in his ear before
the prof announces the assignment, "Together, right?" He
nods OK. Prof clears throat, announces topic: underwear.

I was sure he wouldn't show up.

The appointed hour silently becomes now, and now passes.

There is a knock. Yes, its him! Big smile, come in, of
course, don't be silly, I'm always late myself. We took
our cameras and stuff into my bedroom. He said he really
had no idea what to do, how did I want to do this? I said
I had some ideas, but I couldn't be behind the lens and
in front of it at the same time. Would he shoot for me?
He says yes.

I started by the window, next to my bed. Strong
sidelight, I looked away at nothing. I was wearing jeans
and a button down flannel top (it was already November).
First I pulled the shirttails out, and unbuttoned all the
buttons, then rebuttoned the top one. We did shots
revealing various amounts of bra. Just a plain white bra.
More shots, me kneeling on the bed, shirt off my
shoulders. I look down, right, left, up, is he even
noticing me?

I say I want to change bras. He says ok, he won't look.
He's not getting it. I open my drawers, searching for the
right bra. Maybe its with the matching panties? I try
that drawer. He comes over, looks over my shoulder. Are
those all mine, he says? He's staring at two drawers
stuffed to overflowing with the necessities of womanhood,
underwear in every possible shade and hue. He says, My
sister has bras and panties, I did the wash at home, and
I saw them. They were all white. Like guy underwear. This
is incredible. He laughs.

Its a beautiful, mischievous laugh, full of wonder at the
world. I want to jump him right there.

I shot for you he says, will I model for him? He's
nervous, almost back in his shell, I'll do anything to
keep him from retreating. Of course, I'll be his model.

He had me strip out of my jeans and lie on the bed. White
bra, white panties and me. How much of me was he seeing?
Was this still just an assignment for him? I thought he
might take some shots of me, soft porn like. He asked me
to spread eagle on the bed. I complied. He turned and
pulled the drawer with my bras in it completely out of
the dresser. Carrying it to the bed, he turned it over
and dumped the entire drawerful on my chest. Then he
turned and got the other drawer and dumped out all the
panties across my stomach and hips. Then he started to
take pictures.

Of course I saw them later, these hilarious pictures of
me buried under mountains of undergarments. He stood me
up and decorated me like a Christmas tree, snapped my
bras together and garlanded me with them. He dressed a
chair in my stuff, stretching my panties so that the
front legs the chair went through the leg holes, pulling
them up around the seat. He draped various bras across
the back, and I held up a big white sheet for a backdrop.
He took several like that, when he looked at me again,
the shyness coming back. Would I do something else? Of
course.

He took the panties off the front legs of the chair, and
fitted them to the back legs, with the front panel of the
panties facing backwards. He picked up the bra and
reversed it also, so the cups bowed out with the curve of
the chair back.

"Now I want you to sit in it," he said. I was still in my
white bra and panties. I sat facing the camera, chair
back between my legs. He looked at me. I thought I knew
what he wanted, a shot where the clothes on the chair
kind of shadowed or overlay the right parts of my body.
He bit his lip. "Um, could you perhaps take off the uh.."
Now I got the picture. For this shot it would look best
if I had nothing on, and the clothes were worn by the
chair.

I reached behind me and unclipped the bra. As the cups
slid off, my nipples stood up like rocks, was he
noticing? I wanted to touch them, but restrained myself.
I got off the chair and pulled off the briefs, did he
watch my tits swing? Sitting down, I caught a whiff of
myself. I wondered if he could smell me too.

He was looking through the lens, setting up the shot.
>From just off center, the shot would show me, my breasts
hanging just behind the bra. Looking, looking, focus.
Without moving from behind the camera, squinting into the
rangefinder, he said, "I don't know if you know it, but
you're really beautiful." Click. All of a sudden I know
it, and feel it. Feeling beautiful feels like you know a
secret and the secret is he likes you. Feeling beautiful
feels like a sudden rush of sunlight into a November
afternoon. Feeling beautiful feels like a blushing warmth
creeping across your chest and being suddenly wet in a
private place and wanting to cradle his head against your
chest and take him into your private place and let him
make it his place, let him mark you as his, just as he
has marked you as beautiful.

"You can put your stuff back on, um...," he trailed off,
no longer looking through the lens.

"I don't think that will be necessary."

I got up and sat on the bed, clearing a space amid the
strewn clothes. I knelt, near the edge, and he sat
opposite me.

"Look," I said. "I'm just plain Tammy Ng when I look in
the mirror. Hang around girls much and you'll find out
very few of us has a great self image. I would love to
hear you call me beautiful again. I would love for you to
look straight at me and say I'm beautiful. But I'm
warning you, I'm already very attracted to you. Saying
I'm beautiful is only going to make things worse for
you."

He leaned forward, and looked me straight in the eye.
"Tammy Ng, you're beautiful."

I looked at him. He was smiling from ear to ear.

"You know, I was just thinking," I said, "I think we just
said that we like each other, and I don't know how you
would feel about this, but I'm a girl and I'm naked and
I'm sitting on this bed, see, so I was wondering if it
would feel at all natural to you, at this moment, to
well, what I'm really saying is that I wouldn't mind if
you wanted to perhaps..."

"Kiss you?"

"For a start."

He started. We kissed, him standing, me kneeling on the
bed. He was leaning towards me and only out lips met. I
got butterflies, kissing him. I got wetter, kissing him.

"You could touch me, too, y'know"

"I have your permission?"

"I'm about to demand it."

"But I like tasting you."

"Then I'm going to demand that you taste me, please.
There's nothing I'd like better than for you to taste me
everywhere and anywhere you want, but I might point out
that some parts of Tammy Ng taste better than others, and
other parts of Tammy Ng are just about screaming to be
tasted, and there's a special on breasts in the
appetizing department, if you'd like to..."

His tongue flicked my right nipple. My hands came up and
I held my tits up and out to him.

"Yes, that felt so good, just suck me please, I'd really
love to feel ..." but I was already feeling it as he bit
me lightly at the base of my nipple and ran his teeth
lightly up and pulled it softly with his lips.

At that point we went completely non-verbal, though not
non-vocal. He kissed me everywhere that counted. He
touched me, everywhere, too. He wouldn't even take his
clothes off until I scrabbled through the heap of clothes
that was now on the floor to find the condom I kept with
my panties. Then I stripped him and made him lie down and
stroked his cock a few times and kissed him there and
then I couldn't wait and I rolled the sheath down around
him. Straddling him, I led him into me. We were both so
excited, it went very quickly, that first time.

Oh, and the photo assignment? I took some shots of him in
his jockey shorts, making these hokey muscleman poses,
and my vibrator sticking out the leghole. Very funny, but
don't ask, the shots from that day got shown to the
professor, who graded them excellent, and now nobody sees
them but us.

Sisters Ng:	The Seduction of Deidre by Deidre Ng

Dear Tammy,

Why am I not amazed that the first thing you do with this
guy when you get him alone is to take off all your
clothes, stick out your tits, and start purring about how
much you need him! Thank goodness the demure, chaste
Tammy I grew up with has not changed. The Tammy that
joined the Tennis Club because she thought mixed doubles
applied to the shower room also. The Tammy who tried out
for Glee Club for amazingly misguided reasons. The Tammy
who majored in Fine Arts, Performance her entire freshman
year until she found out that the performance of her
finest art was not something they gave diplomas for. And
you had already prepped for the Orals!

This guy had no chance. But it looks like your incredible
restraint paid off, because I have to admit that he seems
quite a catch. I always got wet for the shy ones, too.
Maybe its that we see them as a challenge. Maybe we're
betting that performance is inversley related to
braggadaccio, which seems to be true for you two. You're
last couple posts to me must have been measureable on the
Richter scale. Geologists want to set up seismographs in
your building, they say your bedroom has been at the
epicenter of a series of small earthquakes.

But I'm not faulting your relationship, just because it
got started with a strip tease and sex acts involving
furniture. I just know thats how you are.

I, on the other hand, was seduced.

When I came to New York I knew noone. I had a crappy job,
crappy apartment. My right hand woke me up in the morning
and my vibrator helped me go to sleep at night. It was
survival, but just barely. After a while I changed jobs,
got a new apartment, one where the sun came in big south
facing windows in both the bedroom and the living room. I
had been working at Mumble, Bumble & Co. for about three
years. I'd made some friends. But the male scene was the
pits. Jewish boys that left you for Buddhist monasteries.
Lawyers that would interrupt sex for incoming faxes.
Dolts that brought a bottle of wine on a first date and
drank it all themselves, that felt their drunkeness gave
them rights to your body. Nice guys that are lots of fun,
that said no when I offered that maybe they'd like to
sleep over. I was convinced that I was never to meet a
stable sensitive man anywhere in New York.

During this period I was chummy with a guy at work. He
was quiet, unassuming, easy to talk to. I never thought
of him as a guy I should make a move on, I thought he was
out of my league. We talked a lot, he asked me how it was
going on the boyfriend front, I'd tell him all my trials
and tribulations. Once I was sitting in his office and I
told him how I had gone out with this lawyer, we got
along, nice dinner, nice conversation, back to his place,
kissing on the couch, I called time out, I didn't want to
take my clothes off on the first date. Well he called me
back, what should I do? He buzzed his secretary and asked
her to come in and close the door. Turning to her he
said, "Well M., what do you think, should Dee-Dee get
laid tonight?" M. was beautiful, always had a bunch of
guys hanging around her cubicle drooling. She looked at
me and said "If Dee-Dee wants, Dee-Dee gets. Rip his
fucking clothes off if you have to." He just nodded his
head and smiled.

We had gotten along really well for years. Well, they
finally installed company wide e-mail one day and to test
it I sent him a message, something along the lines of
"Now we can send each other e-mail full of double
entendres." We sometimes kidded around like that, and
sometimes it left me feeling an ache that it took a
couple times with the vibrator to work off. He sent back
a one liner "It gives new meaning to the computer going
down." Cute, but even the tiniest fantasy of him going
down on me, and it was vibrator time again. Anyway, that
was it until the next afternoon, when my little mailflag
went up, and I saw it was from him. Now I'm just going to
quote his message whole:

Subject:	Cashmere

It was 11 o'clock, and she was still in her work clothes.
She sat on the couch, next to the dozing cat. The news
ran on with the sound turned low, letting just a rumour
of the world leak into her apartment.

She was hungry. Popcorn. The word exploded, and growled
her stomach. She got up and went to her tiny kitchen.
Take down the box, rip open the plastic, pitch it into
the microwave. Wait.

Today he said he likes cashmere. It feels wonderful, he
said. Why don't they make anything for men that feels
that way. He ran the back of his fingers up and down the
forearm of her sweater to feel it. Up. And down. Up
again. It felt like slow motion, except for the alarm
bells going off in her head and her heart going like a
race horse. She'd said something witless and political,
losing the moment.

The first kernel popped. It was, she thought, like the
first explosion of desire in a kiss. Followed in its own
time by a second and in its own time by a third. And when
they came in bunches now, like the tongues still gliding
together, but the flush spreading and her nipples hard
and feeling him hard against her. And the popcorn climax
of individual pops lost in a roar of simultaneous
explosion like he was inside her and thrust, thrust,
glory, and thrust.

She snapped back to the chime of the microwave mixed with
the last reluctant explosion from the now swollen bag.
She took it out and shook the contents into a big steel
mixing bowl from the set nested in the cabinet under the
microwave. Filled a glass mug with spring water from the
fridge and set it to boil for tea, as she would
inevitably be thirsty.

At the couch she put down the bowl to divest herself of
panties and skirt, having shed the nylons the second she
walked in the door. She sat cross-legged, the bowl warm
on the inside of her thighs. She stared at the wall a
foot above the murmuring television, eating mechanically
and thinking about cashmere. She thought, cashmere is
made for men, just not for them to wear. Its for women to
wear with nothing else and the sleeves bunched up above
your elbows and as you lower yourself down and push him
just a little farther into you each time, he reaches up
beneath your sweater, and the cashmere brushes against
your breasts. The soft hair of it clings to your nipples
in ten thousand microscopic kisses. As you move it shifts
across your body, on your back and shoulders and he
presses it to you as you press him into you.

She missed her open mouth and the popcorn cascaded down
her cashmere sweater. She brushed it off by reaching up
underneath the front of her sweater to unhinge the hook
of her bra. She pushed the bra aside and felt the kiss of
the cashmere harden her nipple. She began to circle her
nipple beneath the cashmere in an endless kiss. Her other
hand searched for the popcorn that had fallen between her
thighs, setting aside the bowl, brushing along the inside
of her thighs with the soft sleeve. Pushing through her
tangled hair she found the kernel of desire. She began to
work twin circles with her fingers, and alternated with
strokes that brought her nipple upright and tautened her
mound, her fingers plunging deep within her.

The water came to a full boil as the machine chimed its
joy. She did not hear.

Well. My secretary says that she watched me read this
that day, and couldn't figure out what I could have been
looking at. She said my face got redder and redder and a
smile twitched at the corners of my mouth, which was
hanging half open. I told her someone sent me a dirty
joke via e-mail. She said it must have been a humdinger
to make me blush like that. I read it and reread it, then
printed it and took it home and sat on the couch with the
paper in one hand and no nylons or panties or skirt and
between my shirttails my other hand fingering myself. My
panties were soaked through when I kicked them off. I lay
down with my head on the pillow next to the arm rest,
threw one leg up over the back of the couch, let the
other flop outward.

One wet finger and my lips parted. One finger wet like
his tongue, circling slow delicate like his tongue on my
clit and I'm already arching my back. Two wet fingers
caress each side of my clit, slide the length of my pussy
and back, press down and then slightly together to lift
my clit a little, its so good. Two fingers are his
fingers stroking my clit. Three fingers are wet fingers
inside my pussy, pussy sucking at them, licking them like
they are his fingers fucking me, his cock working its way
into me. Five fingers cupping my whole pussy mound,
gently kneading, feeling the juice squish between my
lips, spill over my clit I'm coming, base of my palm
pressing my clit middle finger slides between Im coming
my lips finds my'm coming clit coming clit coming strroke
clitcoming cc-clit

I lay there trying to catch my breath, waiting for the 
spasms to pass, feeling the trickle of little tears out
of the corner of one eye. I let go the crumpled paper.
The tremendous need had passed. Now I could take him
slowly, the way he wanted to pleasure me, I knew. My
fingers drifted lazily over my thighs. Yes, you can kiss
me here, skin I've made smooth for your kiss. Little
drops of juice bedewing my hair, I'll collect them for
you and tease your tongue with my taste. Would you like
to taste me in earnest? Here, let me hold my lips aside,
this whole pink fissure is yours to taste. I have coasts
and bays that your tongue can swim in, deep water where
your tongue can dive and feel oh yes oh please my deep
currents, the undertow that grasps and wants to drag you
down. And here by the shore, this narrow inlet where the
forest marches down to lean out over the waters, this is
where the surf rolls and breaks on the sand and a smooth
rock protrudes from the sand and the waters caress it and
your tongue could lap against it like the waters do. And
the air is still and hot over this little cove where your
tongue licks over me, still and hot, filled with an
insect like buzz of anticipation and I can't hear my own
breath I'm not breathing because I'm anticipating that
your tongue on the rock of my clit is very soon going to
yes oh yes just right oh oh

I get up from the couch and lead you by the hand to the
bedroom. I take off the rest of my clothes and find my
cashmere turtleneck and put it on. I kneel on my bed with
a big pillow between my legs, it fills the space that I
want you to fill so desparately now. I lean over and pull
my vibrator out of the nightstand. KY jelly on the head
of it, if it was you I'd suck you to make you wet, just
so you part my lips and slide into me, inside me you'll
find all the juice you want. I lean forward against the
headboard, position the wand between my legs. The head of
it parts my lips, getting a little tender there, have to
go slow, turn it on, the buzz fills my pussy I suck in my
breath and the cashmere rubs against my bared breasts ten
thousand microscopic kisses. For a moment both my hands
cup my breasts, the cashmere kissing me like you wrote,
like you said it would when you made love to me. The
fabric catching at my long, erect nipples, fondling me.

One arm on the headboard, a place to rest my forehead.
One hand reaching back between my legs, keeping the
vibrator at just the right angle. Push back, feel it
entering like I want you to, a little, a little more.
Pussy holding tight to you, reluctant to let you pull
away, even as I anticipate your stroke returning, deeper,
deeper. Up and down til I have you inside me, my hand on
the butt of the vibrator. Now I have you safe inside and
I'm going to fuck you easy and slow. I lift and you slide
out til the tip tugs at my lips, I let myself down and
your shaft disappears inside me, splitting my lips, I
feel you filling me. It feels so good, fucking you so
slow, so relaxed I want it to last forever even as I feel
it building stroke by stroke. Sweat trickling down my
back I have to go faster oh yes oh fuck me harder oh fuck
me oh yes my hand is following the vibe into my cunt oh
make me come fuck me yes your cock is so deep fucking me

I forgot to eat supper, but I slept very soundly that
night.

The next day at work I went to his office as early as I
could. "You," I said, "are a very dangerous man." He
batted his eyes, affecting a look of total innocence.
"You mean you liked it?"

Sisters Ng:	Tammy Gets Even (Better) by Tammy Ng

Dear Dee-Dee,

Hi! I'm Tammy, remember me? I'm your sister that you
agreed to write erotica with, does that nudge your
memory? All right, you didn't see me getting laid, maybe
I'm not qualified. Maybe I should claim to be the girl
you saw getting fingered in the stairwell, then you'd
post my stuff too, right? Let's see if 'Kellie', whoever
she is, can write a vibrator story like I did.

I dunno. I was trying to broaden our range of discourse.
Bring in romance, attempt spoken dialogue, humor even.
And what to do I get for my trouble? Tammy Seduces Her
Boyfriend, like some sleazy tabloid Rupert Murdoch
headline! It obviously doesn't pay to be sensitive, if
you are going to sneak in editorial slapstick on the
subject line of my posting. From now on, Tammy is writing
her own subject lines. To wit:

Public Notice to all readers of this letter who aren't
older sisters of the poster: If the subject line of this
post isn't Tammy Gets Even (Better) please complain to
deidreng@aol.com.

Now, where was I?

It turned out that the first time between my boyfriend
and me was his first time, period. I should have been
more gentle with him, would have perhaps if I had known.
But there I was, naked already, and he was so sweet,
telling me how beautiful I was. I was feeling all achy
and butterflies and my legs would just not stay closed.
Thank goodness I had that condom.

He told me as we were lying there. His head was lying on
my breast, one arm thrown across me, one knee over my
hips. We were drowsing in the afterglow, that time when
you don't feel like moving, when its enough to hold him
and remember how he filled you, how well you fit
together, how you held him as he came and how you made it
the best for him you could and it felt so good for you
too, stretching, open, feeling his stroke fill you,
knowing he was urgent and close. You cradle his head, let
him let go inside you, hold him safe til the ecstasy
passes. Now you lie as one, drowsing, watching the
afternoon pass in the movement of a sunbeam up the wall.

"You're the best," he said.

"Oh am I," I said, "I'm very flattered."

"You're also the worst and the prettiest and the ugliest
and the tallest and the shortest."

"Am I also first and last and only?"

"Yes."

"Oh, dear." And I hugged him closer.

Your first, I thought. I'm going to have to take extra
special care of you. I can feel your fingertips touching
my nipple, is this the first time you've done that?
Testing its fleshiness, running one finger over the flat
top, around the base, watching it spring back as your
finger passes over it. Please, keep playing with one
breast while I pillow you on the other. I want you to
know me, my textures and surfaces. Learn me with your
touch and tongue, taste me too. Learn the curve of my
breast and how it weighs in your hand, how your hand
curls naturally around me, just like you're doing now. Is
the first time your hand has cupped a woman's breast? How
very warm your hand is! Squeezing me, testing the
response of my flesh. You'll have to learn that every
caress touches me in the head, also. Your exploratory
touch is delightfully soft.

I sighed. "Your hand feels very nice on my breast. Not
sexy, but nice. If you keep doing that, it'll probably
turn into sexy. Your fingers are being so delicate. You
can be more forceful, I'll tell you if its too much. I
like my nipple being squeezed. You can feel it grow and
harden between your fingers, especially if you make it
wet. If you use your teeth and nibble at my nipple very
very carefully when you suck my breast, you'll make me a
very happy woman, and very aroused. You don't mind my
telling you this do you?"

I felt his smile on my breast.

"Of course not. How else would I know what you like?"

"Well, it seems that some men think they know everything
already and don't want to hear anything that might imply
that they are anything but expert lovers. Other men don't
really seem to care, they already know what they like,
why should they care what I like."

"I won't be like that. I'll take every piece of advice
you care to give me. Please remember that up until twenty
minutes ago I was a virgin."

The next day we went to the darkroom together. We
couldn't stop touching as we handled the chemicals. I
decided to give him his first blowjob as we waited for
the film. We were kissing and I knew he was hard, I could
feel it pressing against my belly. He trembled as my hand
crept over him.

"You're going to make me come in my pants, Tammy." I was
running my hand up and down the bulge in his jeans while
kissing him.

"I can think of a better place to come, one that won't
embarass you so much when you go to do the laundry." I
did my best to slither down his front, rubbing my breasts
along him as I went. Kneeling I undid his belt and fly by
touch in the deep red darkness. I slid his pants off his
ass, then took his shorts down slowly. His cock swung out
to rub against my chin as it came free. I felt the wet
drops it left there, evidence of his arousal. Kneeling in
the dark, it seemed to radiate heat. I let it trail
across my cheek until I felt his head warm on my lips.

I put one hand on his ass and the other curled around his
rod. He felt so warm in my hand. My pussy gave a little
squeeze as my hand tightened on him. I was wetting his
cock head as my own juice started to flow liberally. I
wanted to be so good for him. I wanted to make him last
and give him a virtuoso performance. As my jaw opened to
swallow him my pussy throbbed.

With my hand on his ass I guided him in thrusting slowly
into my mouth. Then I pushed down on the base of his cock
with the other hand and stilled him, giving myself the
opportunity to let my head move up and down on him. I got
my hand going and pretty soon his whole cock was getting
stroked or sucked. He was totally into the feelings I was
giving him, I could hear little whimpers of pleasure as
my lips slid over the flare around his cock head.

I thought he was close to coming. He had reached behind
my head and was carressing my hair, urging me to take
more and more of him. I took what I could of him, and the
rest I stroked faster and tighter. He suprised me by
putting his other hand over mine, slowing me down but
making me even tighter. He guided me now, I'm sure he
knew how to pleasure himself, and now I was learning just
what kind of hand stroke he liked. Together we held his
erection, his hand on mine. I was holding the tip of his
cock between my lips, tongueing the little gap, waiting
for his wonderful explosion. I was trying to concentrate
on how tight he was holding my hand, how the speed and
pressure varied. My pussy was clenching as if it too
wanted to be tight and slick around that warm stiff
flesh. In time, I thought, in time.

Suddenly his hand behind my head pushed in on me and his
cock popped into my mouth just as he came. His cum slid
over my tongue as his smell filled my nostrils, strong
and heady. I squeezed his ass really hard, feeling his
muscles clench as he shot into me. That's right, I
thought, come really hard into me I love giving it to you
so good let me milk every last drop out of you. You are
so special, I want you to feel it in the way I wrap my
tongue around you, sucking licking I know you're so
sensitive now let me just hold you in my mouth steady
steady let me swallow what I've got and breathe and feel
so happy I've given you something so special, made it so
sweet for you, we did it together, let me lick that last
drop out of your cock you wonderful boy.

I cleaned him up and tucked him back in and we finished
up with the rolls of film. Then we practically ran back
home to my apartment. I showed him how to go down on me,
how to make me shiver and twitch with a little flick of
the tongue. He was a very attentive student, I think he
got it all right the first time through, but he insisted
on practicing so I endured his tender ministrations twice
more before I collapsed into a happy little puddle. We
made love again that night and he found out what it feels
like to have a woman fuck you from above, driving her
body onto your cock, using her whole weight to impale
herself on you, over and over again until you both are
coming and she stretches out on top of you after you come
and your lips meet and your kiss lasts until you sleep.

Sisters Ng:	The Seduction of Deidre - Part II by Deidre
Ng

Dear Tammy,

Since you asked, this is how things went after that first
story from him.

We were both pretty busy the following day, but in the
afternoon we went to the cafeteria together for a soda. I
asked him why he had written such an erotic piece and
sent it to me, of all people. He said that the idea just
popped into his head as he walked through Bowling Green
on the way to the post office for stamps. We had sent
these messages to each other and he wanted to see how
aroused he could make me via e-mail. But it wasn't just
that. It was me in particular he wanted to arouse.

The cafeteria wasn't crowded, but it wasn't empty either.
We were talking quietly. Suddenly he smiled awkwardly and
said he wanted to write something that would make us
intimate. He looked down at the table. The soda had been
sweating, and when he moved it there was a ring of water
drops on the table top. He pushed them around with his
finger, dragged them by surface tension til they joined
together. He seemed lost in thought, or perhaps waiting
for me to respond. Perhaps unconciously his finger
carressed the water drop on the table, pushing it,
circling it, holding his finger hovering over it til it
leapt up and spread across his finger tip. It reminded me
of how his finger might move if it were hovering over me,
between my legs, between my lips, hovering, waiting for
surface tension to attract my surface to his. I clamped
my legs tight together and shivered at the breeze blowing
through me.

The more his finger carressed the drop of water, the more
aroused I got, the less able to speak and break the
spell. The word intimate was echoing around inside me.
This went beyond the intimacy of a shared secret. Whether
he knew it or intended it, he had already entered me
through my most sensitive and delicate opening, that of
the imagination. He had lubricated his entry with
slippery words that left me breathless, his strong shaft
was words, his ejaculation was more words that I still
tasted inside me. Having aroused me there, made love to
me there, been as intimate with me there as could be done
with words, what could the rest of me do but follow
helplessly. Hadn't I, the night before, invited his kiss,
his carress, begged them even. In my privacy I had craved
his intimacy, far beyond a wink at the coffee station.

He looked up at me, breaking the spell. I gathered my
self together, reining in my feelings and my bodily
urges. I told him that if he wanted to be intimate he had
chosen how to start very well. I was still a bit suprised
to be the subject of his attention. He flattered me,
telling me that I was smart and pretty and sexy, that it
made for a very attractive package, especially the smart
part. I suffered through being complimented as well as
can be expected, simultaneously basking in his praise and
trying to squelch the little voice inside that kept
saying it wasn't true, that I was dumb and fat and why
should he care, its just my pussy he wants anyway.

We had to leave it like that, and I went back to my desk
still ambivalent. Ambivalent and aroused. Aroused and
unsure. Aroused and more aroused. I could taste his words
like he had come them into my mouth. They rolled saltily
in my mouth. "...intimate...push him into you..."

That evening I got another e-mail:

No Words

At 6:	30 you get message via e-mail, which you think is
strange, since you assume I am gone. The subject is
simply 'No Words', suggestive enough to quicken your
heart even before you click the message open. The message
itself is simple. "No panties either. My office. 9PM."

At 9 my side of the floor is empty. The cleaning lady has
come and gone. You step inside and close the door. I meet
you with a kiss that begins as a shower of little kisses
across your cheeks and lips, then focuses on your lips as
we embrace. We stand, kissing, exploring each other and
our mutual desire. Our grip is tender and fierce as our
kisses meet and join and melt together.

In our own time, we separate just a little. I hold your
hands and lead you to my desk. Clearing aside papers and
keyboard, I motion you to sit up on the vacant space. You
do, and flip out the skirt from beneath you. Now standing
between your legs, I bend to kiss you again, seeing the
pulse thudding in the veins of your neck. Your hair falls
away from your up-tilted head. I lean against you and
your legs embrace me. A whimper of desire escapes your
lips. We kiss. Your tongue is fire in my mouth.

In our own time, we separate just a little. Your head
rolls back and your breath escapes in measured gasps. I
stroke your arms and push against your breasts beneath
your blouse. I kneel.

Now I am face to face with your heat. With my hands on
your buttocks I bring you to the edge of the desk. You
widen your spread. I kiss you. Small and tentative at
first, then circling and little flicks of my tongue. Your
motions and gasps are spasms of guidance in your
pleasure. I know it when you come and come again.

In our own time, we separate just a little. I am ready
for you, and you are ready for me. I lean against you
once more, my hands on your knees, your ankles crossed in
the small of my back. We rock back and forth, and I slip
quickly inside of you, greeted by your slickness and
warmth and desire. We stop and start at many stages. We
rest and kiss. I slip right out of you by accident one
time. With a giggle you guide my wet shaft back into your
waiting depths. The ending is a slow build, a thrusting
that cannot stop, your every muscle holding, squeezing me
as I explode within you. Breathless, we hold each other.
We are one.

In our own time, we separate. We clean each other, touch
each other, kiss each other. You laugh, I laugh too, we
hold each other.

In our own time, we bid adieu. You open the door after a
last long kiss and the spell is broken. At your desk you
find an e-mail message waiting that says "Thank you, and
Good night. I love you."

You go home. No-one on the subway knows why you laugh and
smile, shiver and hug yourself.

Before I left that night I had written him two messages:

Subject:	just right

	------------------------------- Message Contents --
-----------------------------

	Perfect. You were PERFECT. You were so, so, so
absolutely perfect. How do you know exactly how to make
it so perfect? I can undertand how your fantasies would
reflect what YOU would like and would be like. But how do
you know so well the details of just how I would respond,
even though you've never made love to me? Is what I would
like and how I would like it so obvious that it shows on
the outside? Or do you and I happen to share the same
imagination?

	(Did you make this up just for me, or is it
something you might actually want to do?)

	I'm staying late tonight, but I'll still close my
eyes and smile a Mona Lisa smile on the way home as I
sink into the back seat of the limo.

	It will give me something to think about as I'm
lying totally relaxed and naked on the top white tile
step in the steam room at the gym after my run this
evening, and it's about 115 degrees. I can't see a thing
because I don't have my glasses and the room is foggy
thick with steam and the hiss of the compressor. The hot
little drops of water condensing on the ceiling fall onto
me unannounced - I never know just when they're going to
fall or where they're going to land. I usually close my
eyes and breath very slowly and deeply because the air is
too hot and wet to breath normally. I feel completely
surrounded. I always take a quick shower before going in
there, so my skin feels smooth and shiny and soft, and my
hair is wet and smells fresh from the shampoo and hangs
long over the side of the step.

	I'll most certainly go over every detail. And over.
And over. And over.

	You got it just right.

Well there was no hiding my feelings after that, was
there? And so I wrote:

Subject:	what's going through my mind on the west side
IRT

------------------------------- Message Contents --------
-----------------------

Oh, David.

I think about you now, all the time. I really do. I think
about how it would be with you. You really are making me
crazy. The images and sensations you come up with for me,
the way you imagine I would respond - it's a little scary
how right you are. The little sighs and wimpers, sudden
quiet deep moans that surprise even me, pulling you into
me with my legs around you, arms folded around your
shoulders and neck, fingers in your hair at the back of
your head, my hair falling everywhere, (around your face
when I'm on top) soft kisses, deep hot kisses., slow,
messy, open mouthed. I'd love to tease you with my
tongue. Just the tip, outlining your lips, hunting inside
your mouth for your tongue, finding, pulling back,
sneaking in again. My lips gently tasting your mustache,
my fingertips and nails stroking and smoothing your
beard.

I especially liked the part in cashmere where I was on
top, slowly working you into me, oversized sweater
falling and moving across my skin, your hands moving over
me, under that softest sweater, even warmer than the
cashmere. You cannot imagine how much that turns me on.
It's unbelievable. Too many men seem to forget that there
are more three places on my body I enjoy being touched.
(Basically, anyplace there is skin does the trick).

And the gradual deepening sensation of you slowly filling
me up, and the perfect moment when you're finally
completely inside me, close and hard and hot between my
legs, belly to belly. I always lose my breath at that
moment, eyes closed, lips parted, my hair slipping over
my shoulders as I lean towards you to kiss you hard.
There aren't any words at that moment - you might feel
the soft stinging scratch of my nails as I tighten my
grip on your shoulders as I finally take you completely
into me. Being only five feet tall, and more or less
petite overall, I must tell you that, while I'm sure I
could take you, I'm a bit...(how should I put it
delicately)... on the tight side.. You would be very
safe, very hard, very hot, and very, very desperate. And
I have excellent muscle control.

And I love to move with you. If I'm on top, let me do the
work - let me move up and down your entire length,
pulling up but stopping just short of your very hard and
slippery head and oh so slowly pressing back down,
squeezing you from the inside as I go, until you can feel
me resting on top of you, dripping on to you. I might
lace my fingers through yours, holding your hands just
above your head, leaning forward, my weight very gently
pinning you to the pillows - you're much stronger than I
am, but you let me do this anyway because you don't want
to upset the balance. I can watch your face, your eyes,
tease you with almost-kisses for a bit before I give you
my mouth for what turns into a seemingly inseparable
devouring kiss, and I hear your sighs and wimpers through
it. I can tell as you get closer and closer to coming,
but even though you're signalling me to move faster, oh
please, please, please, I might take just a little more
time, make you last a just a little longer, until you
absolutely can't hold on another second, and crush me to
you, burying your face in my neck, shaking as you come
into me, as deep as you can. I stop moving and lay
perfectly still on top of you, holding you very close,
ohyes ohyes oh yes oh so sweet, until the last little
shudder is over. We stay like that not speaking or
moving, just catching our breath. After a few minutes I'd
pull myself up, pushing my very messed up hair out of the
way over one shoulder to look at you, kiss you oh so
gently on the mouth, eyelashes, fuzzy face, warm damp
neck and mouth again, moving slowly and smoothly from
kiss to kiss.

You made me so happy. I feel wonderful. I love seeing you
so excited. I love making you so excited. Here, put your
arm around me, let's curl up and fall asleep together.
Everything okay? Mmmmmmm. good night.

Of course for me it was another night of tossing and
turning and calling out his name as I touched the fire he
had lit in me. I was over the line now. I had to have
him. If he wanted intimacy he was on notice now what to
expect.

We had a soda break that evening as well, after a full
day of running into each other in the hall and elevator
and just exchanging glances. We sat away from everyone
else and I told him everything. I told him what he had
done to me, what I had done when I got home the last two
evenings. I told him how much I hoped he truly wanted to
make love to me, now that I wanted more than anything to
make love to him. I told him in exacting detail how I
would go down on him, given the chance.

He listened to me impassively. When I ran out of things
to say, he said he wanted those things too. He reached
across the table and we touched for the first time.

Deidre wrote some stories for Kellie, when she wanted to
write about some stuff she didn't want to admit doing
herself.

Sisters Ng:	Hey, thats Me! by Kellie

Dear Deidre Ng,

My name is Kellie. I don't want to tell you my last name
right now, maybe we can share that later. For now let me
just say that I have a boy friend, Brien. He reads
alt.sex.stories and other stuff on the Internet. He sent
me your post called "As I've Seen" yesterday. I don't
have to tell you what was in it, you wrote it after all.
Let me say that I thought it was really hot. And the
hottest thing about it was that it was about me!

I know you might find this hard to believe. As I read
your post over and over I became more certain that it was
Brien and I that you saw at S St Seaport. I remember the
whole thing just like you wrote it, even the Evan Picone
suit I was wearing.

I think its a big turn on to get felt up in a public
place, with all my clothes on. I wish I had seen you
watching, that would have been an even bigger thrill. Now
I think back and get so wet thinking about you seeing us.

You guessed I wasn't wearing panties. I had the whole
planned when I got dressed. Rolling the stockings up my
legs, I was already wet, thinking about it. Brien would
be touching me, and he'd want to put his hand between my
legs. He'd be expecting nylons and panties, what a
suprise when I lft my leg and he grabs my naked pussy! I
stopped right there, overcome by the throbbing I felt. I
had on my bra, my camisole, my starched white shirt. My
white thigh high stockings. I slipped my hand between the
shirttails and started fingering my clit. I stopped and
put on my jewelry. Looking in the mirror over my dresser,
my hand slid back between my legs. I squeezed my tit
through my clothes,like Brien does. I pressed the clothes
against my breast so that I could see my nipple through
all the layers of fabric.

I did my makeup and pulled on my skirt, making sure
nothing hinted at the truth about the stockings. Put on
the jacket and slipped on the right pair of shoes. I
stood in front of the full length mirror on the back of
my bedroom door and a neat corporate lady looked back.
Then I pulled over a chair and put my foot up on it. I
pulled the skirt up til I could see my thigh and my pussy
together. I watched myself wet my finger and run it along
my pussylips. It slipped between them so easily. I
watched my hand make little circles, watched the tendon
on the back of my hand stand out as my finger played with
my clit. I could see my nipples clearly and I felt them
inside the cups of my bra.

I pulled the chair over in front of the mirror and sat
down. My skirt slid down my thighs, my pumps fell off as
I lifted my legs and pointed my toes. I could see my
whole pussy now, framed by the folds of my skirt.
Watching my fingers move, I brought myself to climax.

I washed my hands with a lightly perfumed soap.
Shouldering my purse and attache, I left for work.

Well, I don't have to tell you what happened at lunch,
you saw the whole thing. I can tell you more of what we
like to do if you want to hear about it, but you have to
post it. For instance, we work in the same building, 
Brien and I, and on the weekend the place is deserted.
One game we like is to go to the stalls in the mens room.
He stands and I sit on the toilet. He watches me getting
off but I stop just before I come, and then I jack him
off and take his cum and rub it into my pussy and I come
too. I love it when it lands on my pussy. In bed he jacks
off right onto my clit while I'm fingering it, and my
fingers start rubbing his cum all over my clit and I
always come so hard after that.

Anyway, you said you wanted to say thank you to the woman
who made your lunch so interesting. This is me saying
you're welcome and thank you, too!

Sisters Ng:	Kellie in Court by Kellie

Dear Deidre Ng,

Thank you so much for writing back. I just got e-mail 
from Brien, saying my note to you was on a.s.s. it made
me so happy (and wet, knowing a million horny guys were
looking over my shoulder, watching me slide my fingers up
my pussy).

I really like to dress like I did that day, no panties,
thigh highs. I look so business-like on the outside,
inside I'm just dripping! If I have to sit through a
boring meeting my mind starts to wander. I look at the
nicest looking guy in the room and wonder how he'd feel
if he knew my bush was right there under the table. I get
so wet, I try to sit on my heel and rock slowly back and
forth. It feels so good, rocking my heel into my pussy.
I'll get close to coming and stop, close again and stop.
Then I'll excuse myself and go to the ladies room. I'll
sit on the toilet with my skirt hoisted up and finger my
clit til I come. Then go back and sit down again like
nothing happened. Beats falling asleep.

Brien and I are both attorneys. He grinds out boring
corporate papers, leasing deals and the like. I'm a
litigator. That means I go to court. Once or twice I've
had to speak up in court, approach the bench, etc. and
had not a stitch on underneath. At the moment that I was
standing there, I was totally focussed on what I had to
do. Afterwards, I would be shivering with the thrill of
it. Court is a man's world, and I'm sure every minute I'm
in a courtroom there is someone in that same room
thinking about fucking me. I have to out-shark guys
who've been at it forty years. I have no qualms playing
the sex card, looking my best, flashing a smile thats 500
watts. But it has to get released somehow.

One day I had to question fifteen witnesses, all men.
Over and over I would smile, flip my hair, tip my head as
I listened, twist a little so they could see the outline
of my breast. Get them thinking that maybe I wanted to
meet them after court was over. Then they'd say what they
thought I wanted them to say. All the time keeping an eye
on the judge, sharing a secret little smile each time I
dismissed a witness, one that said don't worry, they
don't have what you have, you have that ultimate
aphrodisiac, power. Hope there's a bulge under that gown.

When it was over I called Brien. He knew what I wanted.
He came up and closed the door of my tiny office. Its not
unusual to have a closed door meeting in my office. Brien
knew I wanted to get fucked right there, that part of
what I got off on was doing it so quietly noone could
tell what was going on behind closed doors. Holding back
all the noise I wanted to make just got me more excited.
I watched him drop his pants and stroke his cock. I got
up from behind my desk and stood in front of him
wordlessly. I licked my hand and pumped his cock a few
times. Then I turned and bent over and grabbed the edges
of my desk. He stood behind me and lifted my skirt. I
reached under my skirt til I got hold of his cock and I
guided him into my pussy. We were both being completely
silent, I couldn't let out a sound that would betray the
fact that I was about to get fucked in my office.

His hands were kneading my ass as he slid into me. Inside
my head I was groaning. He would bring my ass cheeks
together, then spread them. He licked one thumb and
started rubbing my asshole. I wanted to let go with a
real guttural moan, but held it back, voicelessly
squeezing the corners of the desk. His cock slid home as
his thumb slipped into my ass. He fucked me almost
noiselessly, this wet slipping sound was the only thing I
could hear that said what was really happening. His thumb
was working in and out of my ass when I felt him wet his
other thumb and put it to my asshole. Slowing the pace of
his fucking, he worked his thumbs back to back into my
ass. I thought I was going to explode. He got the first
knuckle in and went back to fucking me, quicker now. I
could feel my pussy juice trickling over my clit. He was
really fucking me, his cock was rock hard as it slammed
into me. I knew it was covered with my juice, coming out
dripping each time he stroked me. I was gonna cum, his
fingers in my ass, his cock, the silent fucking making me
so excited. I bit my lip as I came and pushed my hips
back, meeting his cock rushing in to spray his cum all
over my cunt. We ground our hips together as we came. I
could taste the blood in my mouth from my lip, the blood
roared in my ears as my pussy spasmed around his cock.

When I finished I pulled away from him, feeling his
thumbs pop out of my ass, his cock slide out of my cunt.
I turned quickly and knelt and took his cock in my mouth
and sucked it, holding the base of it in one hand, my
lipstick smearing along his shaft, mixing with his cum
and mine. While I sucked at his cock my other hand was
working between my legs, painting my clit with his cum,
stroking, stroking til I came again, sucking his last
drops out of his cock. Then I let him pull his pants up,
clean his thumbs off. I let him watch as I sat back in my
chair and leaned back, putting my feet on the desk and
spreading my legs so I could run my fingers around my
pussy, cleaning my pussy of his cum, licking it off my
fingers, big smile, not a word spoken. More lipstick,
smooth down the skirt, ready to open the door and rejoin
polite society.

Brien says the Ng sisters are the hottest writers on
a.s.s. Last night he brought home Tammy's piece about
cock sucking and had me read it out loud in bed. Wow. You
know what happened then. You can give my guy a hard on
like that any time, I'll take care of the consequences.
If you ever want to have lunch at the Seaport and have us
put on a show for you, just ask. For what you've done for
my sex life, its the least we could do!

Sisters Ng: Kellie Sleeps over by Kellie

Dear Deidre Ng,

Hi, Kellie again! This is addictive! Thank you for
posting for me.

I was thinking about what you've posted, how I've caught
glimpses of how you grew up with your sister. The flash
of recognition is there as I read them, the same kind of
stuff happened to me, too. I have two sisters and two
brothers. I grew up in Queens, and went to Catholic girls
schools until I went to college, St Johns, which if you
don't know is in Queens, and St Johns Law School. I still
live in Queens. The Girls HS I went to was the worst
education possible, all of us were wild kids, serious
drinkers, we were probably faster to lift our skirts for
a guy than the public school girls who had them around
all the time.

When I was sixteen I got invited to a sleep over party. I
was friends with this girl who was pretty shy, Colleen. I
remember that she only had sisters, and they all had
names that ended -een, Kathleen, Eileen, Noreen, etc.
Anyway, she invited six girls over to her house. I
probably wasn't the only one who thought sleepovers were
for kids and maybe I could sneak out to see my boyfriend.
But I went along. Everyone else who was invited I knew,
and I was suprised that one girl in particular was there.
Deb was seventeen, had been left back once, was
definitely the wildest girl I knew.

Well after midnight we were sitting around Colleen's
bedroom, only one light on, everyone of us in panties and
a tee shirt. Some of us filled out the tee shirt more
than others, I did a good amount of looking at my
girlfriends boobs, rating myself on how big my tits were
relative to theirs. I'm not very big, definite B-cup
material.

Deb was bragging about everything and anything she had
done. According to her, she had two regular boyfriends
that gave her pot, booze and kept her pussy full, she had
gone down on a priest in one of the confessionals in our
parish church and she had hypnotized her parents so she
could stay out and do anything and never get in trouble.
In my head I was thinking that she was so full of crap,
when Colleen said exactly that! I was stunned, someone
standing up to Deb, no less Colleen. I think she didn't
like what Deb said about the priest.

Deb looked at her. We were all silent. Deb said, "You
think I made that shit up?" Colleen didn't answer, just
sat there crosslegged on the floor. Deb said, "You don't
think I can hypnotize people?" Colleen said, "I don't
think you can spell it, and I certainly don't think you
can do it." Deb curled her lip, smiled and said, "I don't
have to know how to spell it to know how to do it. My
uncle Johnnie was in a circus and he learned how to do
it. He tried to hypnotize me and make me take my shirt
off for him. It didn't work on me and I told him I would
tell on him or else he had to tell me how to do it so it
worked. And anyway all he had to do was ask. So I learned
it from him, and a few other things as well. I can
probably hypnotize you, Colleen."

"Ha"

"Chicken"

"Am not"

"Then let me try."

"Go ahead, make a fool of yourself."

Deb got up from the bed and sat behind Colleen. "I'm
gonna see if it'll work on you. I'm gonna test how
sensitive you are." She put her hand over Colleen's head,
and brought it closer and closer, asking Colleen if she
could feel it each time. Colleen said no each time until
Deb's hand was just hovering over her hair. Then Deb
said, "Okay can you feel this?" Colleen said yes. I think
about it now and it seems Deb was really seeing how
suggestible Colleen was.

Deb got up, and made Colleen get up and sit on a chair.
She sat on the other chair in the room, to the right and
facing Colleen. She fished around in her purse and came
out with a cigarette lighter. She told the rest of us to
sit on the floor behind Colleen, so we took up positions
in a rough semicircle. Flicking on the lighter, she told
Colleen to stare at the flame while she talked. Deb held
the lighter in front of Colleen while she talked almost
inaudibly into her ear. I couldn't hear what she said. We
sat, hushed and expectant, watching and waiting.

Like I said it was well after midnight, so I think Deb
started with an advantage. I think I must have dozed off
a little my self, because my head snapped up as Deb
flicked off the lighter. Deb looked around at us to make
sure she had our attention. She flicked the lighter again
so that it sparked but didn't light, then held it up in
front of Colleen. "Colleen, hold up your finger please."
She did. "Colleen, I'm going to hold this flame closer
and closer to your finger. You tell me to stop when it
gets to hot." The unlit lighter mover closer to her
finger. When it was almost touching Colleen said "Stop."
Her voice had a dreamy quality, I got goosebumps hearing
it. There was something childlike in it.

Deb turned to us and in a low voice warned us not to say
a word or break the trance.

"Colleen, all your friends are asleep. Its kind of stuffy
in here, wouldn't you feel cooler with no top on? Noone
will see you take it off." Colleen leaned forward and
crossed her arms. Grabbing her shirt, she pulled it over
her head. Her hands fell back to her lap, still tangled
in the sleeves of the shirt. Deb motioned for us to come
and sit in front of Colleen on the floor. Sitting there,
I looked up at Colleen. Colleen had milky white skin,
coppery red hair and at least a million freckles. She had
freckles across her chest, freckles over her breasts,
right up to her dark brown aureoles. Her breasts swayed
slightly as she breathed. I couldn't believe I was
looking at Colleen sitting almost naked.

"Tell me, Colleen, do you have a vibrator?"

Colleen blushed. She blushed across her breasts and up
over her chest and neck and cheeks. I blushed with her.
More than blushing, I felt the wet start to flow in my
pussy. I didn't have a vibrator at sixteen. I knew from
whispered conversation what they were and what they did,
but still I'd never seen one. Colleen was blushing flame
red as she answered, "Yes."

"Who do you like?"

"Joey Conigliaro."

Joey C had been an altar boy, believe it or not. His real
interest was looking down ladies' dresses as they knelt
to take Communion. Maybe Colleen knew this, maybe not.

"You like him a lot?"

"Yes."

"You'd like it if he kissed you?"

"Yes."

"You'd like it if he touched you?"

"Yes."

"Where would you like Joey to touch you?"

"My breasts."

"How would you like Joey to touch you?"

Colleen lifted her hands out of the shirt at her lap. She
ran her fingers lightly over her breasts. She took them
in her hands and pushed them together. She ran her index
finger back and forth across her nipple, and as she did
she sighed a little sigh and said, "Oh, Joey thats so
nice." I watched her hands move, caressing herself. I was
getting wetter and wetter, and my nipples were standing
up under my tee. I tucked one heel into my crotch and
rocked it into my clit.

"Colleen, what will you do if Joey wants to touch your
pussy?"

Blush. She hooked her thumbs into her panties and
wriggled out of them. They came away damp from her
crotch. She had sparse strawberry blonde fuzz softly
covering her mound, and freckles everywhere. She picked
up her legs and propped her heels on the chair. We all
had good look at her pussy. I was drenched with juice in
my slit, I could feel the wetness on my heel as I pressed
through my panties. I tore my eyes away from Colleen long
enough to look around, to see if anyone was watching me.
I saw three other girls also rocking on their heels and
one openly rubbing her fingers into her crotch through
her panties.

"Colleen, where is your vibrator?"

"Between my matresses."

Deb didn't ask, but the girl that had been stroking her
pussy most plainly got up and lifted the matress on
Colleen's bed. She pulled out a slim vibrator about six
inches long. She passed it over to Deb wordlessly. As she
knelt again she slid her panties off and fingered her
clit unashamedly. I bit my lip when I saw the vibrator
for the first time. But my jaw dropped when I saw this
other girl doing what I had done only in secret. She was
staring at Colleen and Deb, jaw slack, fingers working
slowly between her legs. My own pussy twitched as I
watched her gulp and whimper.

Deb refocused my attention by turning on the vibrator. It
made a buzz that reminded me of cicaidas at night.

"Colleen, did you ever play with your vibrator and think
about Joey fucking you?

Blush. "Oh, yes" She passed her hand over her pussy and
her lips spread as her whole pussy seemed to swell and
darken. I gasped and the other girls too, as the
transformation of her pussy struck ours as well. At
sixteen, who hadn't thought about getting laid by their
boyfriend, who hadn't felt before exactly that
engorgement of their mound, the lips peeling back, pussy
damp and expectant as the fantasy unfolded? We all had,
it seems.

Deb took the buzzing vibrator and pressed it to her lips.
Her tongue snaked out and licked the head of it, the tip
of her tongue on the tip of the slim cream colored wand.
She made it wet and passed it over her lips like she was
applying lipstick. She paused a moment, gathering the
saliva in her mouth and then she plunged it in, rolling
it with her tongue. It came out wet and glistening.

I was awestruck. I knew, viscerally, that Deb had just
treated the stiff plastic of the vibrator as she might
have treated the stiff flesh of a man. All my fantasies
ended short of doing such a thing. I had one fantasy
where I was tied up and my boyfriend was forced by
shadowy unclear forces to put his erection in my mouth,
that I was expected to suck it. I always fantasized it
coming closer and closer to my face, but never contact,
never taking him into me. I always came before then, just
imagining his stiff cock hanging in front of me, getting
closer and closer.

Now Deb sat on the floor, joining our circle. She was
right in front of Colleen, practically face to face with
her pussy. Colleen's pussy was slick, a little
translucent drop of her juice crept towards the pink
pucker of her asshole. She had put her hands over her
head and grasped her elbows.

"Colleen, its safe to imagine that Joey is fucking you
right now, that he slipped into your room while your
friends were sleeping and he found you so ready that he
just had to fuck you right away. Your imagination is so
powerful it starts to feel like he's really inside you."

Colleen took one hand and lay her fingers around her
lips, massaging her pussy slowly. Her lips gaped apart as
she softly called to her lover over and over, "Oh Joey
fuck me please, oh please Joey fuck me." Deb took the
vibrator and touched the tip to Colleen's lips. The pink
flesh eagerly parted for the wand, it seemed to disappear
effortlessly into her, that Deb had hardly put any
pressure on it, instead that Colleen's pussy had lapped
it up. As it disappeared a long sigh came from Colleen.
Deb seemed to have to pull it back out of her, her cunt
lips gave it up reluctantly. It reappeared covered with a
pearly layer of Colleen's juice.

Deb worked the wand into her, played it in and out while 
Colleen mewed in ecstasy. Her chest was covered with a
deep flush between her breasts that merged all her
freckles into one dark patch. Her nipples stood out
stiff, seeming to stand on a secondary rise in her
breast. After a while Deb turned to her right and looked
to the girl who had gotten up before. Her fingers were
deep in her pussy now. Deb silently offered her the place
in front of Colleen and control of the wand. She slid her
fingers out of her pussy and got up, changing places with
Deb. Deb took the chance to remove her panties as she
shifted position.

We each took a turn fucking Colleen. When it was my turn
the first touch of the vibrator in my hand was a shock.
It was warm from the handling of the others, Colleen's
juice was thick over it, down onto the ribbed portion.
The buzz ran up my hand, I felt it in my breasts and
between my legs. The two girls that had preceded me had
fingered themselves as they stroked Colleen with the
shaft of the vibrator, I found myself doing the same. I
pulled it out and passed the slick tip of it over
Colleen's clit as I fingered my own. Colleen and I
groaned at the same instant. Deb hissed from my right not
to make her come yet. I penetrated her again, and
relinquished my spot to the last of my friends.

When she was done Deb took the wand again. She had
stripped off her shirt as well as her panties. She was
all around heavier than Colleen or any of us, wide heavy
hips, heavy breasts already pendulous. Her nipples were
flat and the skin around them looked puckered.

"Oh Colleen its time for you and Joey to come, he really
wants to feel you squeeze him now, just wait a minute
while he puts his condom on." She pulled the vibrator out
of Colleen's cunt. It was heavy with Colleen's juice.
Lifting herself, Deb fed it into her own pussy, giving a
heavy throaty moan as her lips engulfed the buzzing
shaft. Then she licked her fingers and planted them in
Colleen's pussy.

We had all at one time or another stripped. Seven naked
girls sat, six on the floor, one on a chair. Six girls
fingered their pussies, and one fingered two pussies. We
were watching as Deb and Colleen worked closer and closer
to climax, Deb's fingers sliding into Colleen and out, 
her thumb cirling Colleen's clit. Colleen was so red, she
looked about to catch fire, about to split in two. Her
mouth worked noiselessly, her back arched, every muscle
tensed. Deb was matching her, hand pumping up and down
over her clit, the vibrator a muffled buzz inside her,
her breasts shaking as she bent forward, legs splaying
across the floor, spreading under her, vibrator
completely in her as her pussy pressed against the floor.
Her face hung over Colleens cunt, she must have been full
of the scent and taste of Colleen's pussy.

Just as they came I saw Deb's tongue flick out and lick
Colleen on the clit and then they were both thrashing and
I was coming and so were the others. Seven girls twisted
in the sweet agony of their orgasms. Through my own red
haze I remember the slap of Deb's thighs and ass and
pussy against the floor. We were all for the most part
silent, knowing that there was no choice but to strangle
our screams. It seemed to last forever, that every time
my spasms would pass, I would hear the low moan of my
neighbor and the spasms would come again, and I would
grunt and set another one of us off.

Deb withdrew her fingers from Colleen's ginger colored
cunt. Staggering to her feet, she sqatted and the
vibrator shot from her pussy. She clicked it off. She led
the collapsed Colleen to her bed and lay her down on it
and lay down next to her. Crooning in her ear the words
to break the trance, that it was all a dream, that she
should fall deeply asleep as Deb counted back. We others
sprawled on the floor, between sheets, random sleeping
bags appropriated by the nearest girl. We were all
crashing asleep, the strength of our orgasms now become
an anchor dragging us down. Just as I fell unconcious, I
heard Deb's voice counting back for Colleen, they were
still in bed together, weren't they? Four, three, two,
one, and as I slipped away Deb's voice, could it be that
tender? Whispering "I love you, Colleen" in a hush noone
was supposed to hear.

We woke up in the morning, naked, sore, smelling of stale
excitement. Ours eyes met and slid away. Noone ackowleged
the vibrator lying on the floor in plain sight, until Deb
kicked it under the bed as she came back from the
bathroom. Colleen's mom took us to a diner for breakfast.
We packed our stuff. We went home. Colleen tried hanging
out with Deb alot after that. Deb gave her the cold
shoulder. Then Deb got expelled, for getting arrested
with one of her boyfriends for stealing a car. We didn't
see her, after that.

Some stories that just don't fit anywhere else.

"Morning Orgasms: Backrub, Assrub, Clitrub, Cockrub"

by Backrub (bckrub@aol.com) and Tammy Ng
(deidreng@aol.com)

IMPORTANT NOTE:

This story includes very explicit descriptions of
consensual, non-violent sexual behavior. It is intended
for people above the age of consent in their community.
Others should read no further.

They arrived home at 2:30 A.M. after a six-hour, non-stop
motorcycle ride.

Tired and dirty they decided to shower together before
turning in. They held each other close as the warm water
washed over them, kissing and enjoying the face-to-face
contact and conversation they were denied on the bike.
Although tired, they laughed and rubbed themselves
playfully against each other: the 40-year-old half-
Armenian bearded malcontent and the 20-something Chinese
clarinetist.

After shampooing each other, soaping escalated into slow
foreplay. He held her against him, her back against him,
his cock nestled in between the cheeks of her ass. He
slowly rubbed himself between her ass cheeks and she
smiled to herself as she felt him harden against her.

He removed the hand-held showerhead from its holder where
it had rained down on them and switched it to the setting
for a concentrated, pulsating spray. He moved the
hard/soft sputtering stream of water over the front of
her: shoulders, breasts, stomach, thighs, tickling,
sensual, wet and warm. She moved her hand over his,
holding it warmly and guiding the pulsing spray where she
wanted it.

She had him spray the insides of her thighs, but avoiding
her mound, then onto her hips and then back up to her
breasts. He moved his mouth around to suck and nibble on
her ear lobe and brought one hand up to caress her
breast. They moved the spray down toward her pussy. They
moved it quickly across her mound and she smiled widely,
then down and up the insides of her thighs. They
playfully fought, he trying to move the spray directly
onto her mound, she trying to tease herself a bit more.

He began to suck and nibble her neck. She gasped softly
and brought his hand and the spray onto her mound. Sharp
pulsing but soft/hard water parting the matted black
thatch and then softly pounding and parting the lips
underneath. She stiffened and bit her lip. He began
thrusting his cock between her wet soapy ass cheeks a bit
harder and she always liked that. She tried to use the
pulsing spray to trace a line along her labia and over
her clit, trying to concentrate near, but not always on
the hardening nub.

She was squirming against him and he was sliding even
more intently against her. She desperately tried to keep
the pounding spray just on the spot, right there, keep it
right there...she came, almost losing her footing and
pushing him back against the wet tile wall. She stiffened
and pulsed herself, never shy about being noisy in the
shower, calling out his name, calling him 'Baby." She
felt him groan deeply, bite her shoulder and come on her
ass, the warm cum contrasting slightly with the warm
water still beating against them.

They toweled each other off, kissing, cuddling, embracing
and then crawled into bed. The long day finally hit and
they were both asleep in each others arms in minutes.

9 A.M.

He awoke first to find himself on his side, lying against
her. She was lying on her stomach and his left leg was
draped over her legs and ass. He smelled her hair and the
kiwi-strawberry-whatever-it-was scent of the shampoo from
just a few hours before. He lay there for a few minutes,
just watching her sleep, reminding himself of how lucky
he was to be here, and for them to be together after all
this time.

He placed his palm on her shoulder and very softly, very
slowly ran his flat palm over her shoulders, then again.
Then slowly, down the ridges of her back, his fingers
running along her spine.

His hands. Strong, but soft. Large, but not ungainly.
"Perfect for grabbing my ass, while he licks me," she
liked to say to women friends.

He softly kissed her shoulder as he continued to run his
palm up and down her back, slowly over her shoulders and
then back down, but not yet touching her ass.

He could not quite tell exactly when she woke, and he
could not see the smile that spread across her face soon
after, but he did get to hear the "Mmmmm!" she made just
afterward. He whispered, "Lie still," she smirked,
"Talked me into it," almost into the pillow, as he
continued to run his hand over and over her back -
smoothing, caressing, warm on a June morning.

He bent over to nudge her long black hair away from her
neck and then kissed the back of her neck just as his
hand moved onto her ass.

"Your hired," she said.

He moved his hand over her ass cheeks several times and
then returned to her back, moving completely over the
length of her back and then onto her ass again.

With one finger he traced the inside of her thighs. She
squirmed and separated her legs for him. His hand
returned to her ass, rubbing the soft skin of her cheeks
in a slow circle. He watched as she shivered , and a wave
of goosebumps spread across her flesh, only to subside
again.

With two fingers he began to trace the valley between her
ass cheeks, one on each side. From the bottom of her
spine until he felt the hair of her pussy, then circling
one cheek or the other to return to where he had started.
As his hand followed her curve he would slow and reverse
and knead her resting muscle. He heard her sigh.

At the end of one sliding traverse of her ass, his hand
stopped and began to creep further on, rubbing the small
space between her ass and her pussy. Tight little
circles, pressing firmly into her, alternated with a back
and forth that pulled alternately at her ass and pussy.
He felt her twitch, her hips move against the bed.

His fingers traced and opened her labia. Inside she was
wet all over, and his finger slid easily into her, and
out again, and forward to her clit, and back, and in
again. He shifted himself up onto one elbow to get better
leverage. As his finger explored her, he watched the
muscles of her back tense and relax, following the rhythm
of his penetration of her interior, the excitation of her
clit. He could plainly see the pulse dancing in her
jugular as it paralleled the taut tendon of her throat.

Finger covered with her juice, he turned endless circles
around the jutting nub of her clit. Her twitching
intensified. He watched her hands close in tight fists,
holding the sheets for dear life. Her breath became a
series of staccato gasps. She came, the animal sounds
muffled by the pillow.

She lay still for a while, and he watched the tension
drain away from her pose. He almost thought she had
fallen asleep again when she turned over. She smiled a
lazy smile at him, then licked her lips.

"Hope you're proud of yourself. Making a little girl
squirm first thing in the morning. And I was in the
middle of such a nice dream, too. I wonder if I could
remember it if I stroked your cock for a while?"

"Only one way to find out."

"I suppose."

She got out a little squeeze bottle of massage oil from
the night table. She lay back down in the middle of the
bed and he straddled her waist. His cock was already
respectably stiff. She pooped the top of the bottle and
squeezed some oil out onto her fingers. The liquid slid
between them, dotting the space between her breasts. Her
nipples rose as the cool oil hit her skin.

"This has to warm up a bit before I touch anything
delicate with it."

She turned her fingers over and let the oil drip onto her
chest. She poured a little more directly onto her skin
from the bottle, then set it aside. The liquid tried to
escape down across her belly, but she corraled it,
spreading it across her breasts, rubbing it into her skin
while he watched.

"Well, ought to be warm enough now..."

She pressed her palm flat against her chest and rubbed
herself, spreading and closing her fingers until the oil
squished out between them. Only then did she finally lift
her hand to take hold of his trembling member. Her hand
closed around his cock head, coating it immediately with
warm oil. Her hand turned back and forth, as if she was
polishing the knob of his cock. The excess oil ran across
the back of her hand and down the shaft of his cock,
getting lost in the forest of hair surrounding his balls.

She spread the oil along the length of him with practiced
dexterity. She held her hand still and let him pump his
cock in and out for a while, through her curled fingers.
She watched him smile as their eyes met. He bent over to
kiss her on the mouth as her hand pumped away at his
cock.

The oil that had escaped before was now dripping from
ends of his hair or the naked skin of his balls. Her free
hand collected it, and added the oil remaining on her
chest. She worked it around so that it coated her middle
finger.

"One good ass rub deserves another."

Her finger slid between his ass cheeks. She quickly found
his asshole and rubbed the oiled finger against it, and
then into it. His cock grew even stiffer, and he made a
little whimper of pleasure as the tip of her finger
fucked his ass. His eyelids fluttered and closed, his jaw
hung open. She smiled to herself. She continued to pull
rhythmically at his cock, watching the head engorge.

"One potato, two potato, three potato, four.

Five potato, six potato, seven potato, more.

Nine potato, ten potato, eleven potato, whore."

His cock head was puffed out, shiny, smooth and purple.
Her motion changed to quick jerks of the end of his cock.

"My... mother... says... to... pick... the... very...
next... one... and... that... means... I... love...
you...!"

His cock spat white come across her chest.

"Men are so wonderfully predictable."

She wriggled her finger free of his ass as her other hand
pulled the last blebes of come from his cock.

"Now I remember my dream! It had something to do with
breakfast in bed."

She flipped a drop of come off of her breast onto the tip
of her finger. She brought it to her lips and let her
tongue flick out and lick it up.

"Does that mean I have to get the bagels?"

"Not before I finish the first course."

She licked up the come from her chest and sucked the last
clear drops from his cock.

"Mmmm, now I remember what lox always reminds me of. I
hope we have some in the refrigerator."

"And if we don't?"

"I'm sure you can come up with an acceptable substitute."

He groaned.

Real Slow Smile, by Deidre Ng {watersports}

"If you'll excuse me, I've gotta go water the porcelain."

I must have been drunk.

"Can I watch?"

I never thought I'd hear myself say that out loud. I'd
been talking to this guy for about twenty minutes, so I'd
say he still qualified as a total stranger. I'd had a
couple of beers, which pretty much is my limit. I guess
that and not getting laid for a month and the words just
spilled out of me. He smiled at me real slow, the edges
of his mouth disappearing under the edges of his thick
mustache.

"Well, aren't we the bad girl? You sure know how to break
the ice, don't you?"

He took me by the hand and we went in search of a
bathroom. It was a big house party in a big house. It
turned out the third floor had a half bath, just a toilet
and sink, that no one else had bothered to find. We
looked into the tiny space from the hall.

"Looks like you're gonna have to take the only seat if
you want a good view."

I nodded and gulped.

Ever since I was a little girl, I have always combined
the dual forbidden pleasures of playing with myself and
pissing my pants. I liked to watch the dark stain spread
across my panties, the water beginning to leak through. I
liked to pull my panties tight against my pussy so that
it wouldn't leak out the sides, and I could see my pussy
lips through the semi-transparent fabric. I probably
started playing with my clit from reaching down and
feeling the wet fabric, tracing my lips, feeling the
urine flow out of me.

Playing with myself, I thought a lot about men's' cocks
and what came out of them. I thought about men while I
rubbed my clit through the thin cotton of my panties. I
thought about having a guy jerk off on me, his white come
soaking into my panties while I rubbed it into my clit.
Then I'd come, legs splayed out on both sides of the
toilet. Fingers still pressing the cloth into the
vertical slit of my pussy, I'd let my stream go, feeling
it well up, wash over my clit, hot and forceful. I'd
sigh, feeling the total release relax me.

I hiked up my skirt and sat down. I sat well back, with
my legs out to either side. I left my panties up. He
could probably see the moist spot in them.

He undid his belt and pulled down his fly. He pushed his
pants and underpants down and spread his legs slightly.
Reaching between his shirttails, he pulled out his cock
for me to see. It was thick and brown skinned, the head a
beautiful rose color. My mouth went dry. I felt my
nipples swell in my bra, my cunt clench involuntarily. I
reached down and pulled my panties tight against my
pussy, all the while staring at his beautiful soft flesh.

"You look a little fidgety, maybe you want to go first?"

He was right. I felt the need to let those two beers go,
but I was holding myself in just barely. Sitting there
with my legs open, my body felt it was time let go. But I
wanted to see his powerful stream shooting between my
legs, so I held myself back.

"No, it's OK."

"I was always taught to let ladies go first. But if you
say so..."

His cock moved by itself in his hand as the piss worked
its way out. All of a sudden the head of his cock swelled
a little, and the tiny opening at the end opened a little
wider. Then a little squirt of his piss jumped out.

It hit square on my panties. I jerked from surprise. The
sudden warm feeling seeping through was too much for me,
and my own pee started to flow uncontrollably. I could
feel it whizzing, foaming hot through the folds and
crevices of my pussy, spilling out the sides into my
hair, pushing through the cloth, dripping off my ass,
splashing into the water. And him watching, watching the
stain spread, the pale drops cascading off me.

I could feel my face and chest burning red, a mixture of
embarrassment and excitement. I couldn't stop my fingers
from kneading my pussy as my piss trailed off.

"Push your panties over and give me a good target."

I stretched the wet fabric, pulling it to one side. With
two fingers of my other hand I held my pussy lips wide
open, exposing my throbbing clit. I lifted my legs and
planted my bare feet on the toilet.

His cock sprang to life again. This time he didn't hold
back, his full golden jet hit me with amazing force. He
played it up and down my pussy, then aimed right for the
base of my clit. The pounding pressure sent me over the
edge, I lifted my legs, stretching myself open as I came.
The little tiled bathroom was filled with the sound of my
moaning and his piss.

As my orgasm ended I let the soaked cotton of my panties
cover my pussy again. He finished by painting the inside
of my thighs with the warm stream of his pee.

"You want to talk about it?"

We were downstairs again, sitting on stools in the
kitchen. We had washed out my panties in the sink and
wrung them out as much as possible, but they were still
damp underneath my skirt. On the way downstairs we
stopped on one of the landings and kissed, the first time
I had felt the touch of anything but his hand and his
piss. I was standing two steps above him when he turned 
back to me smiling and I leaned forward almost falling
off the step and he grabbed me and my arms went around
his neck. We kissed in that funny way that you do when
it's the first time you're kissing someone and neither of
you are quite sure how to turn your head so that you fit
together right. After that we walked down side by side,
holding hands.

"Well, until now, it's been my solitary pleasure. The
whole idea of you watching me pee, making me pee, making
me come by pissing on me, it's like a dream come true. As
soon as I sat down on the seat I was so hot. I thought I
was just going to see you piss between my legs."

"I just wanted to help out a damsel in distress. You
weren't saying it with words, but what you did told me
what you really wanted."

What I really wanted. That was it all right. Now if only
I could share some of the other things I had always
thought about alone.

"I have a fantasy about things like this. Would you like
to hear it?"

He gave me that slow smile again.

"I'm a motorcycle cop. The uniform, the tight fit of the
pants and shirt, it gives me a little thrill every time I
change into it. I know the other cops look me over behind
their shades, undressing me.

I've got this spot out on the highway set up as a speed
trap. There's this old billboard I hide behind.

One day, it's a hot day, I'm looking out from around this
billboard and I see this car full of guys pull over and
stop right at the other end of the billboard. They don't
give any sign of seeing me. They all pile out of the car
and go behind the billboard. From my hiding spot I watch
them.

They drop their pants one by one and start to pee into
the bushes. Five guys holding their soft cocks, pissing a
yellow line out into the green foliage. I get very wet
very fast watching them pee. I'm suddenly very aware of
the big motorcycle between my legs. My thighs give it a
squeeze.

They're joking with each other about the size of their
cocks. They decide to see who has the biggest hard-on. I
watch as the five of them start to pull on their cocks,
making them grow. They drop spit in their hands to make a
slick ring for their cocks to slide through. I can't take
my eyes off the sight of five guys pulling on their
cocks.

All of a sudden one of them reaches over to his neighbor.

"No, this is how you do it." He says it smiling,
playfully. In a flash I see my opening.

I pop the cover off my pistol and unholster it as I swing
my leg over the bike.

"Freeze!" I shout in my most authoritative voice. They
look up, completely surprised, cocks still in their
hands. Quickly I close the distance between us. All five
are blushing crimson, their erections shriveling in their
hands.

"Look, I can explain..."

"I know what I saw. I saw homosexual contact. Don't you
college snot noses know what's against the law in this
state? For what I saw I could get all five of you flushed
into the worst sewer of a prison this state has, and
wouldn't that look nice on your transcript? Now
straighten up and stand in a line!"

They shuffle into a line, their pants around their
ankles. A couple of them, especially the one that reached
for the other guy's cock, look ready to cry. I have a
pair of leather riding gloves that a very soft and
supple. I holster my gun and pull them on.

"There's only one thing that's gonna keep you guys out of
jail for homosexual contact. Do you know what that is?"
They stare at me in blank fear.

"Make it heterosexual contact."

"Sir?"

"Step forward, you!" He shuffles forward.

"Have you ever seen a real woman up close?"

"Yeah, I think so..."

"What did you say!"

"Well, uh, no, maybe not."

"I didn't think so. Now stand here and unbutton my
blouse."

"Sir?"

"DO IT!"

I lift my chin for him to unbutton the neck button.
Slowly, his hands shaking, he does each one till he
reaches my belt. I pull out the tails of my blouse and he
unbuttons the last two buttons. I pull back my blouse so
that he can see breasts in my bra.

"The clasp is in the middle. Unhook it."

"Yes, officer."

"Now uncover my tits."

His hands shake as he peels the cups of my bra back from
my breasts. They drop from the cups like pale ripe fruit.
My nipples stand up stiff and dark.

"Are you looking at my tits?" He can't take his eyes off
them.

"Uh, no, of course not."

"WHY NOT?!"

"Actually, your breasts are quite beautiful. Officer.
Sir."

"How would you know till you've felt them?" I take his
hands in my gloved ones and plant them firmly on my
breasts. Reflexively he squeezes me, and I shiver. His
fingers trap my nipples and pinch them.

"Let's see what a real woman has done for your pecker."
Sure enough, his cock is standing stiffly out between his
legs.

"Looks like you need some roadside assistance." I run one
gloved finger up the underside of his cock. Standing at
his side, I pin his hands behind him with one hand while
I wrap my other hand tightly around his cock.

"Do I need to use the cuffs on you?"

"No, ma'am. Officer. Sir."

One by one I bring them off with my hand in it's tight
leather glove. The white come contrasts strongly with the
black leather. I save for last the one that reached for
the other guy's cock. I make him strip my pants off and
finger my pussy. Then I have him go down on all fours,
then put his hands behind his back like the others did.
His ass is sticking straight up in the air, with his
balls tucked up tight against his body. I squat over him
and let loose my piss in a hot stream aimed at his
asshole. The golden liquid flows over his balls, down the
length of his stiff cock. It makes him so excited he
comes, and his thick white come falls in a mixture with
my pee.

After that, I make them dress me again, making sure they
know what every part of real woman feels like. Their
hands explore every inch of me as they dress me, making
sure I look neat and crisp. After they get themselves
dressed, they each kiss the gloved hand that jacked them
off. The last one drops to his knees and plants a chaste
kiss on the fly of my pants. I give them another stern
warning about bad behavior and how much trouble it could
land them in, and then I let them get back in their car
and leave."

"Some story."

I was flushed and panting. I had really gotten in to
telling it, especially the part where I squat over the
guy. I was squishy and quivering between my legs, from
the excitement and from the need to pee again after
several soft drinks. I squirmed a little, hoping he would
notice.

"You look like you need to piss."

A flush of excitement went through me. I hopped off the
bar stool I had been sitting on.

"Third floor?"

He smiled a little and laid his hand palm up on the stool
where I had been sitting.

"Sit back down again for a second."

I looked quickly around to see if anyone was looking at
us. I got back on the stool, letting my skirt fall around
the edge. That way no one could see that I was sitting on
his hand, and he could feel my pussy through the damp
cloth of my panties.

I sat right on his palm. His fingers came up and squeezed
my ass. I shifted and he brought his thumb out to brush
against my pubic hair. I was shaking and I felt my cheeks
burning hot.

"Really gotta go?"

"Uh-huh."

"Then fill my hand. But no more than that, just a
splash."

"But, but..." I didn't think I could do it. I felt like
if I started, I wouldn't be able to stop. I'd be sitting
there pissing myself and his hand and the stool and my
skirt and everyone would stop talking and look at me.

"Well?" He gave my pussy a little squeeze.

If I didn't do it on my own it was going to happen
without any chance of me controlling it. I already felt
my bladder letting go inside me. As soon as I felt the
warm wetness on the walls of my pussy I held my breath
and squeezed every muscle I could to make it stop. His
hand was trapped between my legs as I clenched
everything. I felt the wetness spread through my panties.
For a horrifying moment I thought that I wasn't able to
stop myself, before I realized that it was my first spurt
soaking in.

I was barely in control.

"Ready?"

I hopped up, nodding wordlessly. I thought that if I took
in the air to speak it would put me over the edge. I was
dancing on tiptoe, squeezing my thighs together.

"Let's go then." He pulled his damp hand out from under
my skirt and led me up the stairs. I wanted to run, but
he took the steps at a reasonable pace, even stopping
once to acknowledge someone's greeting. I thought I was
going to explode. Finally we got up to the third floor
bathroom we had used before.

He let me in first. Just the sight of the bowl almost
made me start to pee.

"Not yet. Just stand over the bowl and grab your skirt."

I planted one foot on either side of the toilet and
pulled up my skirt. Behind me I heard his pants open and
drop. I felt his hands on my ass, peeling down the wet
cotton. I was making little animal sounds in my throat,
trying to keep my water from exploding out of me.

Suddenly I felt the warmth of his soft cock slip into the
space between my ass and the rolled down panties. His
cock head just touched my pussy.

Maybe he would have said to let myself go just then, but
as soon as I felt his cock touch me I lost control
completely. My pee flooded out of me in a great spurt
that I couldn't stop. I knew my pee was foaming up around
the head of his cock, drowning it in my hot piss. I felt
a strong counter current suddenly forcing itself
forwards, and I realized he was peeing with me.

Our mixed liquids spilled out around my panties on all
sides, falling in sheets down my legs. I felt his pee
shooting through the lips of my pussy, swirling around my
clit before spilling out into my pussy hair to fall like
rain into the bowl.

As we finished emptying our bladders I gulped for air,
trying to stop the hyperventilation of excitement. He
reached around my waist and began to slowly rub my
soaking panties into my pussy. I moaned and pushed back,
grinding my ass against his hips. He kept up a slow
powerful stroke and in a minute I was crying out from the
explosion of an orgasm that shook my whole body.

I straightened up, turned around and kissed him so hard I
probably made his lip bleed.

"Now. I want to see it now. I want to see that big, sweet
cock of yours all long and stiff and hard. You've made me
come twice now, as hard as ever I have before today. Let
me make you come, please."

"Are you speaking as a real woman? 'Cause I might need
some roadside assistance."

"Well, I don't have my gloves on me at the moment, but my
mouth will do just fine."

He smiled that real slow smile.

I made him strip me, tossing my clothes into the sink. I
made him touch me all over as he undressed me, stroking
my skin, squeezing my breasts. I sat down on the toilet
and showed him how I wanted him to pass my wet panties
around the back of the bowl and pin my legs there by the
ankles.

First I leaned forward to kiss his cock. I stuck out my
tongue as far as I could and licked the last drop of
urine off his head. Running my hands up the back of his
thighs, I nuzzled the wiry pubic hair that his cock was
surrounded by.

I gathered the spit in my mouth and took his whole cock
inside. I love to feel a man grow hard inside my mouth. I
wrestled his cock with my tongue, like we were French
kissing. I slowly pulled away and let it slide wetly out
between my lips before licking it up again.

Whether by his nature or on account of the alcohol, he
took a while to respond to my sucking on him. It was all
the same to me, I was happy to hold his soft flesh in my
mouth, from tip to base, my face pressed into his hair.
He began to respond, and I felt the blood begin to stir
in his flesh. I sucked harder as he slowly filled and
overfilled my mouth. I brought up one hand to hold him at
the base as he grew too much for me to keep inside.

I pumped him tightly with my hand and he stiffened
completely. Leaning back, I pulled him forward until he
was leaning over me. Maintaining my grip on the base of
his cock, I wet my other hand repeatedly and slicked the
space between my breasts. I leaned back against the cool
ceramic of the toilet and pulled him forward. He
straddled the toilet and me on it. I put his wet cock
into the wet space I had made for it, then pushed my
breasts in and over it, making tunnel of warm flesh.

He began fucking my breasts. My fingers crept over to my
nipples to pinch them. I looked down. I could see the
head of his cock appear and disappear between my breasts,
rubbing slickly against my sternum. We stopped for a
minute to let me slick up his cock again in my mouth,
then he went back to fucking my chest.

His easy sliding motion became more and more spastic. As
his cock rose from the tunnel I had made for it, the head
was red, then purple, fully engorged. I pressed my
breasts together as hard as I could. I felt a new wetness
in the cleft of my breasts, sudden and hot. His cock
pressed forward again, covered in white come. He stopped
moving and I watched the rest of his come spill out onto
my chest.

He grew soft again quickly. I picked him out of the white
puddle on my chest and put him back in my mouth. I sucked
his last come off of him while I smeared the rest across
my breasts, working it into the stiff red nipples. It
sent a charge through me, twitching my legs apart.
Leaving one breast alone, my hand slid between my thighs.
I brought myself to orgasm again with his cock limpid and
resting in my mouth, my little mewlings of desire and
release almost strangled by his presence.

We cleaned up afterwards as best we could, ourselves and
the bathroom. My stretched, sopping panties we threw in
the garbage. It gave me a little thrill, thinking of
standing around, making small talk bare-assed till I
left. Correction, WE left.

"Don't think I'm letting you go," I said. "It's not
everyday you meet a guy at a party that can turn you
inside out a couple of times in a couple of hours."

"Why do you think I'm going anywhere? You still haven't
introduced me to your leather gloves."

We both smiled, real slow, and kissed.

Sisters Ng: Center of Attention by Marieanne Kelso

Dear Deidre Ng,

You've been so nice as to share your delightful
adventures with the world through the venue of
alt.sex.stories. I felt it was time to return the favor.

I work for a public radio staion. We take as much
voluteer effort as we can, since we are chronically
underfunded. The local university sends us its
communications arts majors and we are only too happy to
accept. They do all kinds of work, and the more they
know, the more responsibility we give them. One kid in
particular I worked very closely with his whole four
years in college. He started as a go-fer, he wound up
this past semester with his own late night talk show. 
Such a nice kid, my husband and I had him over for
Thanksgiving last year, when his travel plans fell
through and he was stuck at school for the holiday.

It turned out he was a member of a fraternity, Chi Phi.
Towards the end of the semester he called at home and
invited my husband to a party that his fraternity was
holding. He said it was a way of saying thank you for us
taking him in last Thanksgiving. Much to my suprise, my
husband accepted. Unfortunately, I was not invited. I was
a little ticked off, my husband going out to a party
without me, I was the one who knew the kid after all.
Anyway I decided to go out with some girlfriends that
night rather than stay home feeling miffed.

We were sitting in a booth at a local diner, talking,
laughing, drinking coffee, daring each other to order
cheesecake. Four women in their forties, professionals,
educated, we knew each other well. I was having a good
time. We had a booth that looked out one of the plate
glass windows in the front. Well, along comes this guy,
stops and looks at his watch, looks at a slip of paper in
his shirt pocket. Jeans, work boots, short sleeved dress
shirt. Lean well muscled body stretching the fabric. Open
handsome face. He was the poster boy for rugged good
looks. One by one we took notice of this guy and the
conversation dwindled away.

There was a public phone across the street, he made a
call and came back across. Looking up and down the street
he waited. Then he turned and came into the diner. We all
watched unabashedly as he sat on a stool at the counter.

"You know," said a friend, "sometimes my pussy has a mind
of its own."

"Second the motion."

"Third," I said.

"Unanimous, passed on a voice vote."

"I get him first," said my first friend.

"I'll get him ready for you."

"Back rub."

"Front rub.

"Yours or his?" I laughed. None of us could take our eyes
off this hunk who was doing nothing sexier than ordering
coffee.

"Both. His on mine."

"I want to pinch his ass."

"You'll have to move my hand to do it."

"Think he knows how to play 'Postman'?"

"If he doesn't I'll teach him."

"He can lick my stamp anytime."

"I've got postage due already."

"You mean postage D-E-W."

"Yes I do, and my dew is due to his voodoo, and what's
true for me is true for you, too."

She had that right. I could feel the dewdrops forming
between my legs as we bantered. There was probably a
cloud of pheromones rising from the four of us in that
booth big enough to raise an erection on an octegenarian.
Four ladies turned into bitches in heat by one head-
turningly handsome guy sipping coffee. Like our biology
had jerked our chain and reminded us that pleasant
conversation didn't satisfy every human need.

I got home about eleven o'clock. I was thinking that Bill
was going to be happy that handsome stranger had crossed
my path, because the best way I could think of working
off my tension involved him. Probably the same thing was
happening at each of my girlfriends' homes about now
also. The only problem was that Bill wasn't home yet.

About fifteen minutes later I had just finished with my
makeup and my contact lenses. I was getting more and more
irritated with Bill for not being home. My arousal had
been building too. I stripped and put on a tee shirt and
shorts to wait up for him. Just pulling the cotton fabric
over my breasts sent a surge through me. I thought about
a vibe session before he came home. I thought about
sitting in bed reading, or pretending to read, while I
flirted with orgasm from the buzzing tip of my vibrator.
Maybe slip the thing into the baggy opening of the leg of
my shorts, see if the cloth would hold it in place for
me. By the end of course the shorts would be down around
my ankles and all pretense would be gone and I'd be
holding on for dear life as two C batteries and an
electric motor in a hard plastic shell drove me ever
closer to the thing that set them and me apart.

Just thinking about it made it hard to move without being
very aware of my clit getting rubbed with every motion of
my thighs. Bill better get home soon, I thought, or he'll
find himself playing second fiddle to Mr. Robinson. The
future is, indeed, plastic.

Just then the phone rang. I picked it up and knew
immediately it was bad news. I could hardly hear the kid
at the other end over the music, he must have been
shouting into the phone to be heard at all. Could I come
and collect Bill from the Chi Phi house just off campus?
He'd had too much to drink it seems.

I slammed the phone down and scooped up my keys and purse
and headed out the door so angry I didn't stop to think
about what I was wearing, or rather not wearing. No bra,
no panties, nothing on my feet. Damn you Bill, why are
you doing this to me?

It was five minute ride over to the frat house. I only
got angrier.

I could hear the music as I parked across the street.
They let me in to the foyer of a big run down colonial.
I'd heard they spent all their money on a pool out back.
The door opened to a gust of pure maleness, the smell of
beer and sweat and men that was so tangible it almost
rocked me back on my heels, as did the music. I stepped
over the threshold into one of the last preserves of
wild, free range testosterone. I just wanted to extract
my bit of man from the maelstrom and leave. Men will be
boys, I thought. The carpet squished from beer under my
feet as I realised I had no shoes on.

My acquaintance met me. He was holding a bottle of Pete's
Wicked in one hand, it seemed to be the beer of choice,
judging by the empty bottles littering the floor. In this
element he was just another frat boy, partying away.
Shouting over the music he said Bill was in the living
room and I'd need to help him to the car. My anger flared
again.

It seemed I couldn't get to the living room without
navigating a course through the mass of frat boys
clogging the rooms and halls of the house. They were
happily crushed together, drinking laughing, shouting. I
squeezed my way through, suffering inadvertent
collisions, bumps and jostles. I was now very aware of
what I didn't have on, as I had to rub not only elbows
with boy after boy as I tried to get through. I tried to
protect my breasts but the passage was often too narrow
and I needed my elbows to blaze a trail for the rest of
me to follow. Of necessity I rubbed and was rubbed
repeatedly until I popped out into the living room,
propelled by the pressure in the hallway like a pumpkin
seed squirting out from between your fingers.

There was Bill, sitting slumped over in a kitchen chair
that had been dragged in for extra seating. I figured him
to be drunk asleep, even with the music louder here than
anywhere. You idiot, I thought, how could you do this to
me, drag me out here, ruin the whole night.

There was no way I was going to lift him by myself. I
looked around for my acquaintance, he apparently hadn't
followed me into the living room. There was a guy
standing nearby, his back to me. He was wearing a yellow
shirt emblazoned with the following message: "Leader of
the Pack, President 96." Pretty safe to assume he sort of
was in charge, I thought. Maybe he could help me dragoon
some help shifting Bill to the car. I tapped him on the
shoulder.

He turned around and gave me a big smile. "Hey, glad
you're here." He grabbed my shoulders and planted a kiss
right on my lips. I was so shocked I didn't know quite
how to respond as he continued. "Look, I know it was
kinda short notice, you're really helpin' us out."

"Well, I gotta tell ya, I'm pissed about this," I said.
"Look at this sleeping beauty here, I'm supposed to take
care of him myself?"

"Him? Don't worry about him. We can put him upstairs in
bed after you leave and he'll never know the difference.
He'll think he had a great time, just like everyone else,
courtesy of you. Now if you'll just excuse me for one
minute, I have to perform my master of ceremonies act."

He stood on the chair next to Bill and started waving for
somebody near the stereo to cut the music. After some
hand waving across the room he got someone's attention
and the music cut off in mid-boom. More waving and the
boys started pouring in from the hall and the kitchen and
the back porch. The whole time I was thinking to myself,
well why didn't you think of that before I came over? The
room was standing room only now and he motioned for
quiet.

"I know its not fun to have a party be interrupted by a
speech, so I'll keep this as short as possible. I hope
you've all been having a great time tonight..." A rousing
cheer went up. " ...and I'm sure we'll all be having a
lot more fun in just a little while." Another rousing
cheer. "I want to take this opportunity to introduce you
to a special lady, someone who came over to our party on
very short notice to do us a big favor." The crowd went
wild.

I was mystified and angry. Everyone was looking at me now
and clapping and cheering. I was just picking up my
drunken husband, had he been putting such a cramp in
their style? The frat president continued his talk.

"I know it takes a certain amount of courage for a lady
to enter a frat house. I have the privilege of
introducing..." He turned to me. "What's you're name
again, honey?"

I bristled at his familiarity. "Marieanne Kelso"

"As I said, introducing Marieanne Kelso." Again
thunderous applause. I smiled hesitantly, thinking that
this must be some elaborate frat joke.

"I'll take this opportunity to ask Marieanne some of
those questions we would all like to know the answers to,
first how you feel about your job. You're a professional
lady, right?

"Right." This was just absurd. Whatever the game was I
decided to play it straight.

"Every job has something you hate, what about you?"

"I hate cleaning up after everyone else, and I hate
kissing ass." Laughter and applause.

"And what do you love about your job?"

I thought about what I did at the radio station. Maybe my
acquiantance had told them where I worked. I said, "I
really enjoy putting on a good show. Now can we get this
over with?" My last sentence was drowned out by a huge
cheer from the frat boys. I didn't know so many of them
were fans of public radio.

Again he spoke. "Marieanne just said to me that she wants
to get going, something I know you appreciate and a
sentiment we all share. So if you'll all just hold your
horses, pardon the expression..." Here he leered out at
the crowd. "... I'll finish making arrangements." He
stepped down off the chair.

I looked at him. He turned his back to the crowd, most of
whom seemed to be ignoring us, turning away also. I
turned with him to face Bill, still slumped in the chair.

"Was all that necessary," I asked?

"Of course. Don't you want them to know your name? Now,
exactly what do you want. There's about fifty guys here."

"All I want is two of them to help me take Bill here out
to my car. Then I'm gone."

He looked at me incredulously.

"Well, great for him, but what about the rest of these
guys?"

"What about them?"

"What do you mean, what about them? Aren't you the
whore?"

Wasn't I the whore? I didn't know whether to laugh or cry
or slap his face.

I felt a flush, and a sweat, across my body. At that
moment I might as well have been wearing nothing, because
that's how I felt, completely naked. The room was
suddenly quiet, an expectant hush filled the air. I felt
that creepy eyes-on-you, being-looked-at-from-behind kind
of feeling. I turned around.

Fifty college frat boys holding their cocks. Stroking
their erections. Some just poked through the fly of their
pants. Some had their pants down around their ankles
already. Cocks waving in the air, hands sliding up and
down. Looking at me. Waiting.

What was it my friend had said earlier in the evening?

Sometimes my pussy has a mind of its own.

I started to salivate and my breath came in heaving
gasps. My nipples pushed forward on breasts that seemed
to swell as I breathed. Certainly they could see them
pushing up under my shirt. Between my legs an endless
series of little spasms was shaking my cunt. What was I
staring at? Fifty cocks, all waiting for me. One kid,
straight in front of me, looking right at me, hand
pumping hard on his cock and suddenly his thick white cum
jumped up from the head and fell across his hand, still
pumping. I watched it roll in slow motion across his
fingers, white globs of cum sliding off to drop on the
carpet in front of him. As his cum hit the floor the
night's frustrations all clicked into place for me.

I took a deep breath and stood up on the chair.

"I just want to say a few words before we get started. I
look around this room, and I see more boys than men. You
don't need a whore, you boys. You need a babysitter to
tuck you into bed. You wouldn't know what to do with a
whore. First off, let me tell you, a whore is a woman,
and a woman is a lady, and don't you forget it, or you'll
never get anything worth having from any whore, or any
woman, or any lady.

Maybe you think you know the body of a whore, it's got
three parts, right. Two breasts and a pussy, what else do
you need to know? Let's start the anatomy lesson. From
the top. Hair, I hope you like mine."

I played my fingers through it. I have fine curly blond
hair. Usually no problem getting a compliment.

"We'll get to more hair later so I won't dwell on it.
What comes next is the most important thing, so listen
up. Brains. What do you want me thinking about during
sex? All men would agree, not how much I'm paying the
babysitter, not whether my checkbook balances. All men
would rather I thought about them. That requires a
certain amount of cooperation on your part. If you want
really great sex, make love to me up here.

"Eyes. Mine are light blue. Make eye contact.

"Mouth. Kiss me all over and I'll return the favor.

I reached down and pulled my tee shirt off. Cupping my
breasts I made a show of fondling them. I didn't need to
speak, I had their attention. Maybe my breasts had grown
heavy and dropped over the years, but my nipples were
still beautiful, large and hard now as I played with
them, getting harder and darker as I pinched them and
little shocks passed through me, convulsing my cunt,
making my clit throb. Maybe I was the first mature woman
these boys had seen, they'd better get used to what they
were seeing now, learn to love the fullness, the soft
edges on everything.

"Breasts. Even a baby knows what to do. It's hard to go
wrong, just take your time."

I got down off the chair. I put my hands under the
elastic of my shorts and slid them over my thighs. The
crowd of boys and cocks surged forward. The ones in front
were just a few feet away, I could smell them, could
already smell the cum on them and in them. I sat down and
the frat president forced the ones in front to kneel so 
the ones behind could see. In the back they were standing
on the furniture for a view.

"This is it, boys, the main event. You see, I told you
we'd come back to hair. Before I show you whats between
my legs I have to say that I think I would be doing you a
disservice if I just showed it to you and didn't show you
also how it works. Just remember the parable of the
tortise and the hare - slow and steady wins the race."

And then I did it. I opened my legs for the viewing
pleasure of fifty boys at once. There was an audible
groan as I teased my pussy lips apart and my pink
interior came into full view. I slid down in the chair so
that my pussy was completely visible and lifted my legs.
They were completely enthralled as I licked my fingers
and bathed my pussy with my spit.

"Boys, do this next part right and you'll always get
invited back for more."

My fingers ran in slow circles around my clit. I watched
them watching me, some of them were so intent on the
motion of my hand that their mouths hung open and their
heads rolled in circles to match my motion. I felt the
flush spread like fire between my breasts, a clear sign
if they noticed of how excited I was. I thought about
what I was about to do, how I was going to take some part
of each of these fifty boys. My circling started to
accelerate as I thought of fifty cocks and I imagined the
cum spurting fifty times fifty pairs of eyes watching me
come back arching feel it coming watch me boys fifty
spurting coming coming coming

Shouting moaning shaking hips bouncing on the seat ass
rocking back and forth. I opened my eyes, at least ten of
them had come with me.

As I sat there catching my breath the frat president
stood next to me. Somewhere he had lost his pants and now
wore just the yellow tee shirt that was his mark of
office. His cock bobbed thick and strong next to my head.

"I think it's time to introduce Marieanne to some of our
Chi Phi traditions. First is the Manhandling. It's not 
what it sounds like Marieanne, don't get worried. Just
relax."

That wasn't hard, it would have been hard for me to do
anything else. They picked me up and passed me around,
held over the heads of the boys, always supported by ten
or fifteen different hands on every part of me. Everyone
must have gotten a chance to touch me, I felt all
different kinds of hands on me. While some were holding
me, others were rearranging the furniture. The
rectangular coffee table got pulled to the center of the
room and covered with cushions from the sofa. They
brought me down to rest there.

"Next, there is a pecking order at Chi Phi, even for
peckers. Our first and second year members don't have the
privelege of your body yet, not completely."

They came to me in groups, whoevever could fit around me
as I lay on the impromptu divan. They were naked now,
like me. Their cocks were stiff and full. They knelt and
stood around me. Those that were kneeling rubbed me all
over with their cockflesh, using my skin as their tool
for pleasure. Cocks rubbed against me on my cheeks,
nuzzling my ear. I felt them on my breasts, cockheads
sliding my nipples into their wet slits. Cocks slid
across my stomach and thighs. They lifted my legs and
fucked the the back of my knees. They fucked the crook of
my elbow and my armpit. I even felt cocks tickling the
soles of my feet. Overhead the ones who stood held their
cocks out over me as they stroked and stroked.

One by one they beagan to climax. I gasped as the sprays
of cum hit me all over, fell on me from above. Boys would
satisy themselves on me and their place would be taken by
another, who would lubricate his cock with the cum left
by first. Hands reached in, wiped the pools of cum around
on me, finger painting. The boys at my breasts held my
nipples to their cockheads as they came, and they or the
next rubbed it around on my breast and still others
reached into the mass of masturbating boys to squeeze my
cum covered nipples between fingers lubricated with cum.
I nearly came again myself when they did that. I licked a
thread of cum off my lips and gave myself up to the
pleasure of being decorated by their orgasms.

Soon the upper level boys came forward and I began to
take them in my hands and mouth. I always had at least
two going at a time. It was easy to take some of the cum
I was covered with and lubricate their cocks with it.
Then my hands and mouth slid easily over them. Most of
them were so excited by watching and waiting for their
turn that they came very quickly, like they were still
teenagers.

Finally the governing council of the fraternity took
their turn. They turned me over, onto all fours, and took
me two by two, one at each end. I rocked back and forth
between cocks, pulling off one as the other went in
deeper, then back the other way. Sometimes the rhythm
changed and it was in together, out together, feeling
either skewered or stretched. The ones who had come
before watched me fuck and suck them, pulling lazily at
their soft cocks.

When the first cock came between my legs I groaned as he
slid into me. I had gotten so aroused again by all the
cocks and cum on me, the smell and touch of so many men.
He slid deep deep into my cunt. It was hard to
concentrate on blowing the guy in front of me, the guy
behind me was giving it to me so well. Soon I could feel
them both racing towards their orgasm. The guy in front
came into my mouth and I milked his cock with one hand
while I sucked and licked his cum out of him. Behind me
he pulled out at the last second and filled my ass crack
with his cum.

Each pair went the same way, coming in my mouth or on my
ass. As the president's cock slipped from my mouth I
thought my performance was finally coming to a close. So
I was quite suprised to hear him say, "And for our piece
de resistance, our Member Alumni Emeritus, Mr. Bill
Kelso!"

Bill! I had completely forgotten! Now there he was behind
me, naked, erect. His cock slipped into me like an old
friend. His finger started to rub my ass with the
collected cum of the frat boys. With noone in front of me
I could finally reach between my legs and finger my clit
as he fucked me. We found our old familiar rhythm and
soon our bodies were slapping together. The boys cheered
us on. I was fingering myself like mad and Bill was
getting stiffer and stiffer and then we were coming
together, heaving and moaning like our honeymoon.

After Bill slipped out of me they carried me outside to
the pool. They lowered me into the warm water and washed
the cum off me. Then they towelled me off and presented
me with my clothes. Bill and I said good night to the
frat boys, him perfectly sober after all. They all shook
his hand, and kissed my hand as if that was the only way
we could have touched.

At home Bill admitted he had thought it up for me, a
present he said. Of course I said thank you. What else is
a lady to say?

Sisters Ng: Check It Out! by Deidre Ng

I love Zabar's, they have the best bagels, better than
H&H. I was standing there last Thursday night, waiting on
line. All I had was a block of Parmesan cheese that it
had taken me half an hour to pick out. It usually takes
forever to check out.

I was standing behind this guy, kinda short but still
taller than me. The place was crowded so I got shoved up
against him. Well, I took one breath and wham! his scent
hit me over the head like a ton of bricks. My knees went
weak and watery, my heart sped up and I started to tingle
all over, but especially between my legs.

He had a whole bunch of stuff that he was buying. The
cashier picked up each item and swiped it across the bar
code reader. She was a beautiful big Italian girl, dark
and voluptuous, dark curls cascading down around a heart
shaped face. Sometimes I wish I looked like that, strong
earthy and inviting. Anyway, there she was, rolling can
after can across the scanner, while he waited patiently,
looking absently at the prices flashing past on the
readout. I don't suppose that either of them knew or
cared that I had suddenly become aroused by the smell of
this guy.

He was putting stuff up on the counter for her. I watched
his hands move. He had big beefy hands and strong
forearms. I watched, dry mouthed as his muscles rippled
back and forth. His fingers were thick and short, meaty
and strong.

All of a sudden I imagined what it would feel like to
have his hand between my legs. My pussy clenched in an
involuntary spasm of pleasure at the thought of one of
his thick fingers stuffed into me, pulling slowly out
against the clinging grasp of my tight little pussy,
sliding back in with a slick swiftness that made me gasp.
I must have let out a little gasp for real. The cashier
stopped in her routine to look up at me, and the guy
turned to look at me for the first time.

"Um, nothing, I was just clearing my throat. Really."

He looked at me with interest.

All of a sudden the register beeped.

"Oh, shit, the computer just went down!"

Everyone else line drifted away, cursing the electronic
fates. "I really suppose I should stay. I'm halfway
checked out already."

"I only have one item."

"What are you buying?"

"Parmesan cheese."

"Is that all?"

"Yes"

I suppose that that "yes" should have meant "yes, that's
all", but I think it came out sounding like the "yes" in
"yes, I'd really like you to fuck me right now".

"Well, I'm buying handmade spinach fettucine and the
ripest Beefsteak tomatos in town. I love to have chopped
tomatos, lightly sauteed in olive oil, over fettucine,
topped with freshly grated Parmesano. Doesn't that sound
great? Makes my mouth water, thinking about it."

"You sure know how to make a girl hungry."

It must have sounded like I was asking for him to fuck
me, but I could picture the serrated knife sliding across
the skin of the tomato, the skin peeling back away from
the slight pressure, parting like the full, lush lips of
my pussy as the juices run out over the blade of the
knife as it plunges deeper into the heart of the ripe
vegetable. The cashier was blushing so deeply that she
had to stop staring at me and pat her cheeks lightly to
recover her composure. She went to find the manager.

"Only a girl buying Parmesan cheese. Look, my name is
Tony DiMartino. I would be willing to cook exactly that
meal for you, if you'd like to find out how your
Parmesano goes with my fettucine."

"Oh, Tony, I'd love to suck your fettucine, I mean my
Parmesan would be so grateful if you..., I mean of course
you could cook me."

"I think you're talking about more than just food."

"Um, Tony, I don't usually do this standing on line at
Zabar's, but seeing as there's noone else around right
now I'd really like to lift the front of my skirt and
have you put your hand between my legs and push my
panties over to the side and slide your finger over my
pussylips and then..."

"Will you let me make you that fettucine?"

"Yes"

"OK"

Tammy sez: Wow! A whole page to myself!

Tammy On The Big Screen by Tammy Ng

She saw herself sitting in an empty movie theater. She
was sitting in the last row, eating popcorn. In the dark
she slouched, and her skirt rode up her thighs. She felt
the cool air of the air conditioning tickling her pubic
hair as she spread her legs. Popcorn scattered across her
skirt as her hand slid through her wiry tuft to play with
the glowing pulse she felt throbbing between her legs.

On the screen she watched herself get up and leave the
theater. She was in a large mall, and it seemed that all
the stores were dark and empty. She walked along the
upper level, window shopping in the dark. Then she saw
one bright light, one store that was improbably open. Its
a barber shop, very old style. Inside she saw a man
sweeping up, apparently one of the barbers. He was young
and handsome, slightly built with a closely trimmed
beard.

She stepped inside the store, making the bell ring. The
young barber looked up from arranging his tools. He was
holding a straight razor, and as she walked further into
the shop he began to strop it back and forth slowly on
the strap that hung from his chair. She came to a stop
facing him from the other side of the big chair. Smiling,
she reached down and lifted the hem of her skirt to
reveal her thigh, almost to reveal her pussy.

"I think I need a shave," she said.

He nodded wordlessly and motioned her into the chair. He
jacked the chair up, tugging repeatedly on the arm that
raises the chair on its mechanism. He reclined the chair
back so that she faced the ceiling. She lifted her legs
and spread them so that her skirt fell back to show her
thighs. He stood between her legs. A little machine on
the shelf under the mirror dispensed hot shaving cream.
He gathered a little into his hand and spread in a line
along her leg. Then he passed the razor up the line of
hot foam, collecting it with the cool steel blade,
pressing slightly to slice the follicle just below the
skin.

He started at her ankles, alternating legs, repeating
over and over the application of the hot cream and the
stroke of the cool blade. Up her lower legs, over her
knees, down her thighs he traveled. He motioned her to
slouch forward, and when she did he lathered the space
between her pussy and thigh. With short sure strokes he
shaved her, not the hair of her pussy itself, but just
around the edge to the base of her thighs. Everywhere
that the razor has passed over her, her skin felt taut
and silken smooth. The hot foam and cool naked blade
inching closer and closer to her pussy left her damp and
expectant. She smelled her musk mingled with the scent of
the foam.

He cleaned the last pile of foam from the edge of his
blade, stropped it again a few times as he looked over
her smooth skin. He ran a soft terry towel over her legs
to catch any stray particle of foam and it was so
unexpected that she gasped and arched her back in
pleasure and surprise.

He took out a comb and began to comb the hair around her
pussy. She lifted her legs and spread them wide to give
him access to her. He took the strands of her hair and
began to braid them, making a long row across the top of
her pubic region that doubled back and forth across her
mound like a snake, growing fatter as her hair thickened
near her pussy. Right at the apex of her slit the braid
split into two, which he carefully tied down each side of
her pussy.

He worked silently, his hands pulling gently at her hair,
working the plaits deftly over and under in the tight
space between her legs. The tugging on her hair was
transmitted to her skin and translated into little shifts
and almost imperceptible movements of the folds of her
cunt, back and forth around her clitoris as he worked the
braid closer and closer to her clit. When he wove the
complex braid above her clit to make the connection to
the two side braids, his nimble fingers brushed back and
forth right over her clit, leaving her breathless and an
inch, a breath, a motion from climax. Then he finished
the side braids and stood back to examine his work. He
held up a mirror between her legs to show her his work,
and she saw that there was now a crisp line around her
pussy on one side of which was smooth hairless skin and
on the other was the intricate braid of her uncut hair,
twisting around the swollen folds of her pussy. She
traced the line of the braid with a finger, inviting him
to watch her as she watched herself in the mirror. But he
seemed not to care for watching her and returned to
putting away his tools and cleaning up. He returned her
to upright and lowered the chair, and the folds of her
skirt fell around her silken skin and concealed her
braided pussy from view. Offering no more payment than a
chaste kiss on the cheek, she turned and left the shop,
the bell ringing behind her exit.

She rode the down escalator, and walked past the still
fountain in the center of the darkened mall. At the far
end she saw another store with the light still on. A Joan
and David shoe store. Looking through the window she
could see a young clerk straightening the displayed
shoes, reboxing items unwanted by customers. She pushed
through the door, and somewhere an electronic buzz
announced her entrance. The clerk jumped at the sound,
rushing forward to meet her. He was handsome, slightly
built, with a short beard and glasses.

"I need some shoes. Perhaps you have what I want. Black.
Open toe. Spike heel, about four inches tall. Strap
around the heel. Show what you have." She sat in one of
the customer chairs, while he pulled over one of the
stools on which shoe clerks sit. When he was positioned
in front of her she slouched forward, letting her skirt
creep up her thigh. She put her foot not on the slanted
part of the stool, but on his thigh, and rubbed it back
and forth. "Fit me," she said.

He nervously placed her foot into the measuring stick and
took her measurements. He seemed flustered and kept
rechecking the measurement as his eyes drifted up and
down her legs, from ankle to skirt hem. Then he jumped up
and almost ran for the stock room. He returned in a few
minutes with four boxes of shoes. Black, open toed, spike
heeled with a strap.

She made him fit her in each. On the tight ones she had
him grasp her calf and push her foot down into shoe,
leaving the mark of his sweaty palm on her smooth skin.
She made him buckle them with her leg outstretched and
resting on his thigh. To look at them she didn't stand,
but planted her feet on the slanting board of the stool
and twisted her legs about, sometimes deliberately
opening her legs and letting her skirt fall back to let
the clerk catch a glimpse of her pussy for a second.
Finally she opted for the second pair, which was the
tightest, and made him fit her in them all over again.
This time she spread her legs wide open and crossed her
legs at the ankle right above her pussy.

"How do I look?", she asked. She parted her ankles for a
long moment as he gulped, looking longingly at her pussy
with its braid.

"You know what they call these shoes, don't you?" He
nodded yes, then no, then yes again before giving up on
answering directly.

"I think there's something wrong with the stitching on
the buckle of this one," she said. "I think you should
look at it very closely." He knelt in front of her and
leaned close to examine the buckle, and the pussy right
behind it. As he did, she looped the other leg around
him, pressing on his neck with her ankle, dragging him
closer and closer, finally sliding the other foot out of
the way of her pussy and crossing them both around his
neck, pushing his head down between her legs. With a
little cry he buried his face in her pussy.

She had just closed her eyes, his tongue was just about
to slide across her clit when the phone rang. The clerk
jumped up, breaking the embrace of her legs and rushed to
the cash register to answer it. From his replies it
seemed that the caller was the store manager wondering
what he was doing there so late and why wasn't the
register off. Had he done the price reductions on the
brown pumps?

Balanced perfectly on her new shoes, she left the clerk
stammering his explanations, looking longingly after her,
as she left with the raucous buzz of the door.

Now the mall seemed totally dark. She passed back and
forth on both levels and saw nothing open still, until,
looking down a side branch she was sure she had checked
before, she saw a light. It was dim, and came from the
few small candles of a restaurant. She went in, and
nothing announced her entrance. All the chairs were put
up, except at one little table, where a young handsome
slightly built waiter was eating by himself. When he saw
her he got up and offered her his seat. He gave her a
menu and said sadly that the kitchen was almost totally
closed, but he could get her a dessert if she wanted. She
ordered a hot fudge sundae. He brought it out quickly and
hovered near her. She placed the napkin in her lap
demurely. Then she scooped up a fingerful of the hot
fudge from the side of the sundae and leaned forward to
lick it up. She wasn't quick enough, and some of it fell
on her napkin. She playfully continued to lick and
finally suck her finger clean before turning to the
waiter.

"I'm afraid I've made a little mess here. Could you help
with this?" He bent to remove her napkin, because she
made no motion to lift it from her lap. As he reached for
it she parted her legs, making it fall to the ground. As
he bent further, his head dropped to the level of her
legs. Before he could straighten up, she took another
dollop of the fudge and ran it along the lips of her
pussy.

He caught her finger as it ran along her pussylips,
smearing her folds with the warm fudge. He sucked it
clean. He kissed the inside of he thighs and with a great
sigh of relief and desire she raised and spread her legs,
hooking the long heels of her shoes over the edge of the
table. He cleaned her cat-like with his tongue, delving
into her, tracing her folds and curves with his
tonguetip. Her head fell back and her eyes shut.

She watched the image of herself on the screen, the end
in sight, arching, moaning. She was herself near the end,
arching and moaning, her fingers sticky with her juice.
The long spike heels of her shoes hooked over the row of
seats in front of her as the film ran off the end and the
screen went white and the world went white like the
inside of a flashbulb as she held herself open for the
tongue of the handsome young man whose face was buried in
her pussy and the empty theater was filled with her cry.

Tammy In the Rain by Tammy Ng

Dear Deidre,

My sister goes to Greece and all I get is her cat for two
weeks. Is there justice when she gets fucked morning and
night, cavorts naked with her boyfriend on a pristine
private beach and enjoys leisurely romantic evenings
while I have to deal with psycho-demoncat knocking over
my potted plants, my music stand, pissing on my sheet
music and generally making life miserable? Is there? How
wonderful, Dear Sister, that you came home with your
already lubricious artistic juices lubricated still more.
Well the world must be told how the other half lived.

For two of the hottest, muggiest weeks in the history of
New York, I was possessed of a cat that was, itself,
possessed. It's name was Jasmine, but it quickly became
known as the Hell Spawn of Azathoth. Anything this cat
could do to annoy the crap out of me and my boyfriend it
did two or three times a day, just to remind us that
being watched by us wasn't its idea of a good time
either. It wouldn't play with any of the cute toys you
graciously left us. It obviously thought its litter box
should be in the middle of the living room floor, because
thats where it kicked all the litter. It redecorated the
bedroom in early hairball and vomit spots, graciously
depositing during the night so that when we got up in the
morning our bare feet would go squish into them.

Needless to say, we took to avoiding the cat as much as
possible, which was easy when we were in the living room,
since it seemed to be terrified of us there, hiding
behind the couch whenever we were in the room. But the
bedroom was another story. The little creature seemed to
think our bedroom was its playground. Especially the bed.
Especially at night.

We made the mistake of trying to make love with the cat
in the room, once. I was lying on my back, getting a real
nice slow fuck when the smoke colored furball jumped up
onto the pillow. The next thing I know there's a paw on
my nose. I tried jutting out my lower jaw and blowing air
at it. 'Scat' had never worked. It got up and put its
front paws on my tits and stood, sniffing my boyfriends
face. His face smelled alot like my pussy at that moment,
since he had just been spending a wonderful bit of time
with his face between my legs, his tongue fucking me
while his nose tickled my clit. My juice must have been
all over him.

"Maybe it wants to know what the competition smells
like," he said.

I said something like "Mrfl burf burble fm." The cat was
basically sitting on my mouth.

He picked up the cat gently and dumped her off the bed.
She circled for a bit on the rug as we tried to recover
the romance of the moment. I pulled him down on top of
me, kissing him, smelling and tasting myself. I curled my
self under him a little more and my feet came up around
him. His cock sunk into me that extra bit that feels so
good when you get absolutely wide open and your angle is
just right and you're extra slick and tight inside and
your pussy just won't let go and he starts fucking you
really hard and faster and he's right up to his balls
inside you and you want it all just all of it stuffed
into you and you feel him getting big inside you and you
know he's gonna come in you and you're so hot yourself,
your cunt's so tight and quivering you're gonna come for
sure when he starts shooting it into you and its just a
little, just, just

THEN that the little shit sinks its teeth into my big toe
about an inch and I jump about a foot and scream and his
cock pops out of me as I try to throw the pillow at the
thing as it dives for the space under the dresser. I was
bleeding from these puncture holes and it hurt like hell
and I sat there crying, holding some tissues to my toe as
my boyfriend lost his erection as he tried to calm me
down and look at my toe.

So we tried closing the door, but it yowled like we were
torturing it, which we both felt like doing, and thats
when it knocked over the music stand and pissed on my
Mozart. It looked like celibacy was the only option.
Neither of us wanted to risk getting naked in the same
apartment as that cat.

"We could go to some really arty movie house and go down
on each other in the back row."

"We could pay a cab to sit in traffic on the FDR Drive
while we fucked in the back seat."

"We could check in to the Carlyle for the evening."

"What about that practice room at Julliard where we..."

"I don't have the key any more. What about that friend of
yours that had no place to go with his girlfriend, and we
let them fuck in our apartment while we went to the opera
or something?"

"They broke up last month. I couldn't call him now."

I shouldn't have brought it up. I was already horny
enough. Remembering that night just made it worse. He had
this friend who was at NYU who had a roommate that
wouldn't go along with having the girl sleep over. So in
this fit of generosity we said sure come on over, we'll
make ourselves scarce, just don't break anything, we'll
even do the laundry. I wore this black crushed velvet
party dress, very short. One loop of pearls around my
neck and this Wonderbra(tm) kind of thing that put every
inch of my chest on display. We went to the Met while
they fucked their brains out. I spent the whole time
thinking about what they were doing. They could have done
the Ring backwards and sung 'Paul is dead' naked and I
wouldn't have noticed.

I was imagining this couple fucking in every possible
position in every room of the apartment. I had her
sitting on his face in the middle of the living room and
turning around and lowering herself slowly onto his cock,
squirming rapturously as it slid home. I had her on all
fours on our bed, getting taken from behind, the rhythm
slowly quickening, her breasts swinging beneath her. I
thought about him getting really deep into her as their
bodies slapped together, over and over, making her
breathless, her pussy so tight around him. For some
reason the thought of this other couple fucking in our
bed got me really excited.

Well, the witching hour finally arrived and we stood
there ringing our own doorbell like we were the guests.
They opened the door together and stood there arm in arm
with these big, goofy grins, looking a little wasted. My
boyfriend's friend shook his hand and clapped him on the
arm in this pseudo-macho way, and the girl stepped up to
me and said thank you in this little voice as she kissed
the air next to my cheek and just then I took a breath
and her smell was like sweat and her musk and his cum all
mixed together and I looked down and there was this
little dot of milky white cum just starting to inch its
way down between her breasts and all of a sudden my knees
got weak and I just stood there with my mouth half open
as they exchanged places with us and said good night.

He must have come on her face, come one last time before
their time was up, as we were getting out of the cab his
cock was slipping between her lips and she felt him
getting big and ready to explode. She wrapped her hand
around him as we reached the first landing and pumped his
cock up and down, her lips pressed against the swollen
purple head. Second landing and he's spraying her face
with his hot white cum, little gobs catching her on the
lips and cheeks. Her tongue snakes out to lick them off,
lick them free of his cock. She swallows his cock head
again to suck the last of it out of him as she hears our
voices rise from the third landing and she quickly tucks
him away and gets up off the floor to stand there arm and
arm with him and say goodnight to us as we reach the
fourth floor and ring our own doorbell. Maybe she doesn't
know that she's still wearing a little bead of cum on her
chest, one thats beginning to trail away into her
cleavage. Maybe she does, maybe she felt it fall there as
the rest of his load painted her face and she licked and
sucked the rest away knowing there was this little dot
left. Maybe she knew I would see it, maybe she wanted me
to see it. Maybe she'll wipe it off with her finger on
the street and feed it to him. Maybe he'll bury his head
between her tits and lick it off.

The instant the deadbolt shot home I was kissing him,
practically climbing him. One hand came up under my ass,
pulling my panties and nylons off. The other popped one
of my tits out of the push-up bra to squeeze my nipple. I
quit squirming long enough to get out of the panties and
then I got his pants down around his ankles and his cock
was just huge already. What happened next makes being
petite worth it because he picked me up and pressed me
against the door and I wrapped my legs around his hips
and my arms around his neck and I got fucked harder and
deeper and faster that I ever had before. His cock slid
along my ass as he held me pinned and then I felt the
head of it between my pussy lips and then it was deep, so
deep, right away and he let me slip just a little so that
my own weight forced him that little extra bit into me. I
know I let out this sound like I was some wild animal.
Then it was just hold on for dear life as his cock worked
in and out of me this short delicious stroke. He had his
hands on my cheeks to support me so that he could pull
out more, I just locked my wrists and ankles together
around him. Both my tits got rubbed free of the bra as he
fucked me, I felt my nipples hard against his chest. He
came crushing me into the door, his whole weight and
thrust splaying my legs out and around him. I don't
remember coming, or it felt like one long orgasm, it was
so good I don't care which.

So here I was, having my virtue guarded by the chastity
cat, and I suddenly have these whole body flashbacks to
the hottest fucking I had received in recent memory. We
went to bed without resolving the problem. We lay there
naked and restless, tossing and turning til we fell
asleep.

About 2AM I was woken up by the silent flicker of
lightning in the sky. There was a storm coming, a big
terrific lightning and thunderstorm. In one short burst
the clouds were going to be wrung dry and the rain was
going to fall in continuous rippling sheets of water. The
thunder would boom, metallic as it clattered among the
tall buildings of the city. I love storms like that.

I slipped out of bed and put on a tee and a pair of
thongs. I went to the living room windows and looked out
and up. Surrounded by other buildings, only halfway up
this one, I couldn't see enough of the sky to satisfy me.
Leaving the front door unlocked I went out and up to the
roof. The three flights of stairs woke me up. I pushed
open the roof door, the one thats supposed to locked and
never is. We only come up here for the Fourth of July,
but other folks come out and sunbathe in the smog and
barbecue. In the middle of the night I was alone with the
darkened city and the flickering sky.

I looked up at the grey clouds roiling. I felt the breeze
picking up, pulling at my tee. The shirt hardly covered
my ass, barely kept my pussy hair out of view. I didn't
care, up here by myself, if the wind played with the edge
of it, lifted it to touch my ass or ruffle the hair on my
cunt. Just to show how little I cared I picked the shirt
up by the edge and lifted it briefly over my tits,
letting the breeze blow over them and pucker the skin
around my nipples. It felt deliciously cool and very
naughty to expose myself to the entire Manhattan skyline
like this. Someone could have been looking out of any one
of a thousand windows, as restless as I was, as awakened
as I was by the coming storm, and seen me, leaning
against some piece of brickwork on the roof of my
building, lifting my shirt and feeling the the breeze
blow across my breasts and through my legs like a lovers
tongue. I didn't care.

I felt the first big wet drop on my cheek as I lowered my
shirt. I went and stood in the middle of the roof as I
waited for the rising hiss to mix with the booms coming
closer and more frequently. The lights on Houston Street
dimmed away as the storm fell on them. The tempo of the
rain increased as I spread my arms to greet it. The drops 
struck at random on my face, stinging a little from the
force of the wind. They struck and clung to my shirt,
gradually darkening it. It no longer fluttered in the
wind, now the wind and the rain plastered it to my skin.
The storm was on me, falling like a hot shower, but the
wind cooling me. My hair was slicked down against my neck
and the shirt stuck everywhere.

I looked down at my breasts. My nipples stood up stiff
beneath the soaked tee. I squeezed them through the
shirt, pointing them upwards at the sky, feeling my own
little electric surge.

I heard the door creak behind me. I turned, suddenly
afraid. Then my boyfriend stepped out of the darkness and
into the lightning and the rain. He was wearing just
boxer shorts and sandals like mine. He stood looking at
me from about twenty feet away, the rain darkening his
shorts. Facing him I lifted the shirt off my breasts
again, showing them to him, rubbing them over, feeling my
stiff nipples drum across my fingers. His erection showed
through the soaked shorts, the cloth outlining it.

I went to him and kissed him, so thankful that he had
followed me.

"Take me quickly," I said, "I want you fucking me in the
rain."

He took me by the hand and looked around the roof. There
was no convenient place to lie down, even to go on all
fours. Then I thought of something. I led him around to
the other side of the little housing of the stairs. It
had a wall, solid brick. The rain was slapping against
it.

"Pick me up and fuck me against this wall, like we did
against the door that time. I really need you fucking me
please, I... Oh god your cock is so big I can't wait for
it to be... oh yes I'm holding on so tight don't worry
just press me against the wall like you did before and
thats...oh fuck you're so deep oh fuck me oh fuck thats
so ggood..."

I was getting the pattern of the bricks pressed into my
skin as his cock pinned me to the wall. We were soaking
wet and his cock seemed to get bigger each time it slid
into me. I was screaming, louder than I ever did, each
thrust inwards, it felt so good the rain dripping into my
mouth as I cried out.

Our orgasm took us just as a crack of lightning boomed
nearby, or maybe it just felt that way to me. He held me
as my cunt clenched around his spurting cock, my nipples
tingling against the wet cotton and his chest. He kept me
pinned as we kissed and the aftershocks boomed and roared
around us.

We stayed up there, kissing and holding each other, til
the rain tailed away as the storm passed over the East
River. I thought about your apartment in Park Slope and
hoped you kept your windows shut when you went on
vacation. As we stepped around the the housing for the
stairs I saw that Jasmine was waiting for us, we had
finally found a spot she wouldn't dare invade. I expected
her to run away from us as we came in from the wet and
squished our way back down the stairs, but instead she
twirled herself around our ankles and purred. Everything
was beautiful until we tried to kiss on landing six and
she clawed my ankle. The rain must have stopped.

Amanda's Piece of the Night by Tammy Ng (vamp, follow up
Meeting Amanda by Backrub)

Dear Circe,

I hope this message finds you feeding well in San
Francisco. I know that its hard to settle into a new
city, I'm finding Chicago quite awful right now. But we
need to rotate every so often to keep the bloods
balanced, so I try to take it as just another existential
facet of the universe.

I miss you, Circe. I miss your teeth tugging at my nipple
and my finger on your clit stroking in return. I miss
feeling just your beautiful fangs dragged across my skin,
your feedmark bitten lovingly into my neck, mine into
yours, our mutual suckling neck to neck. I miss the way
you make me stand and how you come close to me and slash
me suddenly at the jugular and the thin pale serum spurts
forth and you make me twist my neck so that you can watch
it pulsing out of me, trickling down between my breasts
and across my belly. I miss you kneeling to lick the pale
fluid from the lips of my pussy, running your fang so
smooth and sharp over my clit. I miss watching the
muscles of your face pull taut as I stroke your clit and
your lip peels back and your fangs glisten in your mouth
widened in desire, breath clenched in your throat
anticipating the release that my finger moving on your
clit will surely bring you soon. I miss your strong
fingers working in my slick cunt, making me whimper for
you.

I stopped over in New York on my way in from Paris. I had
a feeding pass from William, he paying off an old favor.
Imagine my suprise to find Raul installed as the Lord of
Manhattan! The story as I could make it out was something
like this: Raul had settled in Hoboken, of all places,
but an auspicious choice. William ruled across the river
in Manhattan, and had the tunnels warded to his service.
He held both Manhattan and Long Island against any
trespass, refused repeated calls to rotate, even turning
down London at one point. New York is new blood, as the
saying goes, and William never lacked for feeding. The
constant saiety led to him becoming lackadaisical in
keeping up his wards. Raul crept along the far bank of
the Hudson, biding his time.

Finally the night came for Raul to strike. Having fed
well in a hundred Hoboken bars, he was at his peak
strength. There was an outbound accident in the north
tube of the Lincoln Tunnel, just past the ward. It was a
wonderful grisly thing, I've gathered, a commuter bus and
family in a station wagon. William couldn't resist
putting in an appearance, of course. And when the bus
driver pulled out a gun and blew his own head off in
remorse, he was completely drunk with joy. I doubt I
could resist such a scene myself. But at the same time
Raul was forcing an entrance at the south tube of the
same tunnel! By the time William finished wallowing in
that scene of bloody despair the Manhattan ends of the
tunnels had been warded in the sign of Raul! So now the
positions are reversed, Raul lives the high life as
Master of New York while William skulks along the bank of
the Hudson from the Palisades to Port Elizabeth.

The humans' part I got from old newspapers scattered
about on the PATH train that I rode into the city. The
story the wards told, I read for myself as we passed into
the tunnel under the river. Lucky for me the feeding pass
was given in the name of a place, not the name of its
Master. Raul has put his spoor on every rooftop in
Manhattan, it seems. But he could not gainsay me my right
of feeding.

I slept the day away in the prehistoric Indian cemetery
under Battery Park. As the mingled twilight released me I
instantiated among a group of tourists coming back from
the Statue of Liberty. How I wish that great Lady would
bear her fangs and show the huddled masses what true
Liberty is! The air there has the tang of the sea, the
tang of spilled blood, exhilarating. I walked through the
park to the subway station and caught the number 1 IRT
local uptown. The subway smelled of tuberculosis. I got
off at 14th Street, walked over to Broadway and started
to walk back south slowly. I was trolling, tasting the
air. I had decided to do the Village that night. I would
have preferred Spanish Harlem but Raul warned me off when
I presented my pass to him the previous evening.

"All right, I honor the pass and your right of feeding
here one night. Fucking sentimental of William to write
it this way. He must have thought he would rule Manhattan
til the next Ice Age. I hope you don't think I'm going to
give you the keys to Central Park, just because you've
got a one night pass. Stay south of 96th Street if you
know whats good for you. This island is mine to dispose,
I could just as easily have told you to find your meal on
Roosevelt Island, but I don't care to have an old lover
of William's looking over my shoulder. Good hunting."

I don't have to tell you what the air tasted like,
walking through the Village. Yes all of humanity's scents
were there. The joy of creation, the sorrow of
corruption, mingling with the ordinary and the everyday
of desire and dull frustration. I could smell those
marked by William, faintly now that he was absent. Raul's
scent carried strongly from a few, he must have been
testing the waters everywhere in his new domain. But over
everything was the false Sign.

There were street corners where the smell of AIDS was so
thick it made me sneeze. I don't have to tell you, in San
Francisco, what its like to stand in a herd of mankine
and be overpowered by the sickly sweet ether of AIDS.
Tycho thought he could make humanity mark itself for him,
carry his Sign from blood to blood, body to body. He
wanted to be able to call at will, any where and time,
and we let him try because he said it was a mark and Sign
muted in such a way that anyone of Us could call the
marked ones. It was certainly a great technical triumph
for Tycho to succeed in placing his mark and Sign on a
virus. What a grand sad dream. Now the vector burdens us
with the tasteless half dead, reeking falsely of Tycho.
His little experiment last spring with Ebola was even
worse. Let me say out loud what everyone whispers, he
should be Destroyed, before we are forced to watch him
gorge himself on the blood of all humanity in a single
month, while the rest of Us starve.

Enough of our politics.

I made three rounds of Lower Manhattan. About eleven I
was in the Village again and I caught it blowing in from
behind me down Broadway. A man this time, rising to the
bait. Staying an even distance ahead of him I tasted his
scent as the breeze brought it to me. A little cynical,
thinks he's seen it all, done everything he wanted to, he
thinks, almost forgotten the things he hasn't. He was
seeing the sex of me, I could taste the fizz he was
putting into the air. He wanted to prove he was still
alive, and making me come would be an ample demonstration
of that. Shifting through the crowd I followed the
specifics, the taste he thought my pussy would have as he
put his face into it, the smell of his cum rising from
tight inside my cunt and my ass tighter around his thumb,
fucking me from behind, behind the dumpster in the alley
I had just passed and he was just passing, the smell of
my pussy again, rising from under my skirt while his cock
spilled cum over my hand, pumping long slow strokes the
length of him.

I waited until he was definitely following me. Then as I
was about to cross the street I twisted around and set
the hook. The wind twisted with me, at my behest, and I
washed over him like a sudden exhalation fogging the
mirror of his senses. Hooked. Now to reel him in.

There was a rooftop nearby that William had marked and
Raul had remarked. I aimed for it and he followed along
on his little leash of desire. I got him there with a
minimum of tedious socialization. On the way I kept
rolling his tastes over and over in my mouth. Pussy taste
cum taste ass taste cum cum pussy ass cum.

I thought about setting my fangs in his balls and
drinking the sperm straight from the source. It is so
tempting when his cock is in your mouth and you're taking
all that lovely white cum and you know his blood is
singing just under the skin and that tangled skein of
arteries is stretched taut the length of his cock, so
tempting to nick him and let it out, let it mix in your
mouth with the cum and swallow them both. When they're
well marked and ready to come when you call, almost ready
to be bled white, then you can chance that, when you've
got their balls in your hand and your slow massage makes
them think they're coming forever and they're willing to
ignore the little nick in the delirium of bloody orgasm.

I took him down quickly. He wanted my cunt, he got it,
lips wide across his face. I quit breathing to take his
cock down my throat, til my lips were buried in his hair
and his balls rubbed my nose. He was doing me well, his
tongue knew what a woman needed. I took his cock out and
stroked him with my hand so that I could lean into his
face a little more.

If you plan on existing til the end of time, its a
mistake to remember too much. But suddenly I did
remember, how long long ago when I was a woman I sat just
like that on a man's face. His tongue twisted around my
clit, on and on, I was burning up inside. I twisted a bit
and slid one wet, shortnailed finger into my own ass. My
finger worked in my ass like a switch against the flank
of a horse, soon I was galloping along on top of him. He
knew when to be still, when to let my bucking hips slide
my clit over the tip of his tongue held stiff and still.
I came crying plunging my finger in grinding my cunt
against his face his cock bobbing between my tits.

I came then, stroking, being licked, remembering.

As I turned and took his stiff cock into me I saw his
blood pounding in his neck and his eyes all glassy. I
took the rest of my pleasure with him still feeling the
afterglow of remembered womanhood. My tongue marked him
and with a quick head shake I set my punctures side by
side. I drew from his neck with the same rhythm as my
cunt shoving down on his cock. As I lapped at his neck I
let his cock swell and feed me from below, the sudden
presence of his hot cum twitching my hips again, a long
slow wave rolling up my spine. In sudden ecstasy I
whispered the name of my first lover, that I thought I
had forgotten long ago.

I left him like that, marked for me, dazed and happy I
suppose. My own sentimentality spared him. If he ever
comes to Chicago, I'll know. Please don't be critical of
me, Circe, Raul thinks I ruined a perfectly good
opportunity to bleed one white that belonged to him,
certainly what he would have done if the roles were
reversed. And there is no rivaling what I feel for you,
because we are together truly for forever, just like you
promised me that long age ago. But for that one split
second as I came I could believe I was a woman again, and
that was enough, that night.

Deidre sure writes a lot!

Sisters Ng: Aegean Interludes by Deidre Ng

There's an especially beautiful string of tiny beaches
and and very private coves along the south-west side of
Skiathos. We have to walk up the hillside after taking
the bus to the very end of the line, climb down a steep
narrow path through the rocks and then a little way 
through the olive grove to get there. When you come out
at the water, you might be a little disappointed at
first, because it seems just like any other beach, with
lots of people.

But follow me - I know a place. We walk along the water's
edge, no shoes, splashing in the little waves licking up
onto the beach. Your shirt is getting a little wet from
the spray. and the long full gauze skirt I slipped on
over my suit is blowing around in the breeze and the hem
is getting damp, but I don't mind. Everything is fresh
and salty. I'm thinking about how the water ebbs and
flows on the sand, not a perfect rhythm, never quite
predictable, but steady, and I'm thinking about how you
would feel moving against me, inside me, like those
waves. I wonder if you're wondering the same thing.

After clambering over the rocky outcropping at the far
end of the beach all those people we wanted to leave
behind are now out of sight. The only sounds are from the
water and the warm breeze and our slightly out of breath
breathing as we jump down from the last boulder onto the
whitest sand on the floor of a perfect circular cove.
(You have to help me over the last step, and I like the
steady feeling of your hand as I grasp it and hop down
onto the sand).

The walls of the cliff rise almost straight up from the
sand, giving a feeling that's open and sheltered all at
once. While there is some shade, it is almost mid-day,
and the air is starting to get hot. We spread out our
towels, park the daypacks against the rocks, peel off the
outside cloths, and chase each other into the water. It's
amazingly crystal clear and blue-green. You are the first
to dive under, and I follow you. We swim out a little
way, and when I try to put my foot down, I realize it's
too deep for me, and I sink for a couple of seconds,
coming back up giggling and treading water, my hair
smoothed back and shiny, the ends floating around me on
the surface. The water is shoulder deep on you, but you
can touch bottom. You paddle towards me and scoop me up,
holding me like a baby, my arms around your neck, legs
around your waist, your hands clasped under my ass,
pressing me close to you. We're both very silly, as you
threaten to dip me under, and I hold on tighter,
laughing, feeling your chest hard against me, and the
water cool and fresh everywhere. Your beard and mustache
are covered with shiny drops of water, and when I kiss
you, it's a delicious mix - sweet and salty, the warmth
of your mouth and the cool of those little droplets
coming together on my tongue.

We kiss there, feeling the pull of the surf and I know
that I'll make love to you on this beach just a little
while from now, the slap of the surf merging with the
sound of our flesh. I'm going to lose myself in you, in
your rhythm, as I always do, as I love to do, as you fill
me. Your nipples are puckered and hard and so are mine,
standing in the waves kissing. I trace yours with one
finger as we kiss.

You start to walk back to the beach holding me, but can't
quite navigate the pebbly bottom, and have to let me go,
laughing and splashing me. We hang there in the water for
a few minutes, just liking the feel of the coolness on
every inch of skin. I decide it's time to lose my bathing
suit, peeling it down and off my body, stepping out of it
while still floating in that clear green water. You
didn't quite notice what I was doing, since you were
floating on you back, doing your best otter imitation.
You were surprised to feel me tugging at your drawstring,
undoing the knot and helping you pull it down over your
hips, thighs, butt, and finally, kicking it off your
feet. The suits get tossed up onto the sand.

I swim back to you, and wrap myself around you again. You
feel wonderful against me, and my body feels especially
warm to you compared to the cool water. I'm kissing you
now, and can feel you getting hard, the head of your cock
nudging my ass as I squirm against you, and squeeze you
even tighter. This time you carry me back towards the
sand, and dropping to your knees, let me down onto the
fresh sun warmed towels at the edge of the water, still
kissing me, lowering yourself onto me.

The feel of your body on mine, the shifting sand under
me, and the heat of the sun make me feel suddenly so
primal, and I can't wait for you to be inside me. I want
it now, right now. I don't want to wait even a second and
I'm spreading my legs, using one hand to open myself for
you, the other digging into your ass, trying to pull you
into me. I'm so turned on seeing your face above me,
smiling because you know you're teasing me and you love
to see how much you can make me want you. Even though
we're alone, I feel I must whisper what I want - oh
please David I want you.... so much, I want you inside me
hard deep, just fuck me you know how, you know just how I
like it. David now now now oh please, please I want you
so much. I want all of you right now. But you make me
tell you out loud. Not shouting, but you want to hear
every word and breath as I tell you how much I want you.
You love to hear it.

And finally finally you give me your cock, sudden and
deep and hard - you wanted to hear me gasp when you did
it. But then you start the long sweet strokes, that
perfect rhythm, that indescribable hot slippery friction,
completely inside me, and it still isn't enough because I
want all of you, your entire being inside me, everything
you are and say and do I want inside me and I'm clutching
at your shoulders, your arms, digging my nails into your
ass, and dragging them up the entire length of your back
to your shoulders, where I fold my arms around your neck
and pull you to me for kisses. You can hear me moaning
softly through our kisses and even though you wanted to
keep control, to continue to tease me, you can feel the
pressure building. My need and vulnerability and
desperation are so open that you feel as though you are
crossing an invisible line and join me on the other side,
suddenly as crazy feeling as I am. Just a few more
strokes, just a few more, low pitched and gasping oh
god,dave you're making me come, yes David Iloveyou
iloveyou ilove you, oh so sweet oh god, ohIloveyou. I
love to feel you come in me. I love it.

We rest for a long, long time on the white sand, half
sleeping, still tangled togeter, but we can still hear
the waves flowing softly, back and forth.

They spent the afternoon at the beach, and in town. In
town they looked into little shops, examined all kinds of
craft work, perused the work of painters and jewelers.
Back in the hotel they showered and changed for dinner.
They ate lightly, salad and fish. Afterward they walked
again through the little town, holding hands, not
talking, just being together. They had touched constantly
through dinner, little brushes of the fingertips,
sometimes feeding each other a bite. Now as they walked
up the winding streets to the little hotel they heard the
surf against the seawall. It sounded all day and night
through the open window of their room, because their room
turned its back on the town and looked out over the sea.

The bed was rough, but wide enough for two, two that
didn't mind being close. They closed and locked the door
behind them. He lit two candles in green glass containers
and switched off the one electric light. They sat
together on the bed, looking out the window towards the
dark horizon. The sun had set as they walked lazily back
through the little streets and now the sky was every
shade of blue, spread out and dotted with stars. Their
speech was just a murmur above the rhythmic pounding of
the surf. They faced each other and at times their
speaking faded away into a kiss in which their lips
hovered within a hair's breadth of each other, brushing
together, parting and pressing together, giving passage
to their tongues and the dance of their tongues together.

At the base of her spine was the zipper to the long
flowing white skirt that she wore. His hand had rested on
it for a while, as they had talked and kissed and looked
at the sea and the stars. He put his other arm around her
now, and held the fabric of the skirt to allow him to
unzip it. When he had done this his hand naturally fell
across her buttock. She felt the passage of his hand over
her cheek, so welcome, so familiar. She felt the waist of
the skirt loose around her, no longer following exactly
her movements, each motion rendering it less relevant.

As they kissed he began unbuttoning her blouse. He worked
up the buttons slowly, not looking, letting his fingers
work their way through the necessary motions. Eventually
each button came free with a little release of tension, a
sighing as the fabric loosened. She felt his progress
through the shift and pull of the blouse against her
skin. As he worked the top buttons free, she felt the
slight constraint of her breasts disappear and they
shifted freely as she leaned somewhat forward.

Finally he was done. His hands rested on her waist,
sliding into the space between the blouse and the skirt.
They kissed and she unbuttoned him, from top to bottom,
and unzipped his trousers when she ran out of buttons.
Her hands came to rest in a similar spot on him.

He opened one side of her blouse at moved his hand slowly
up her side. He cupped her breast in his hand, and slowly
worked her nipple into the angle between his thumb and
forefinger. There he slowly pinched it, pulled it and let
it slide through his fingers. His slow caress made her
dizzy and hot and she felt the pounding within her rise
to match the surf. She wanted him to bare her other
breast and match his caresses. She gently pulled his hand
away, long enough for her to open his shirt and strip him
of it. Then she opened her blouse and let it fall off her
shoulders and down her back. She lifted his hands to her
breasts, pressing them to her. He resumed his caress, his
pull and release of her nipples.

She closed her eyes and let herself drift along, guided
by her other senses. His hands were moving like the surf
over her breasts, lifting and circling, rolling and
pulling her nipples in time with the moving waters. With
her eyes closed she was more aware of the matched
rhythms. She felt a bead of sweat start to trace its way
down her spine. She imagined how she must look to him,
shadows slanting across her skin. A dark pool between her
breasts that his hands dipped into, her skin dusky in the
half light, her nipples standing hard between his fingers
dark mountains in profile.

After a little while, she worked her hands around his
waist and slid his trousers down his legs. She traced the
length of his cock through the fabric of his underwear,
then peeled that off and freed his shaft. One hand she
rested at the base of it. With the other, she explored
his length and thickness and stiffness and heat, running
her fingertips lightly along his taut skin. He was so
warm in her hand when she made a circle of her thumb and
forefinger and slid it down his length.

Before she got too serious about playing with him, she
lifted her skirt over her knees and spread her legs,
sitting on her haunches. She led one of his hands away
from her breasts and down beneath her skirt. Then she
resumed her sliding circle as he began to explore her. He
found her damp and expectant. Her lips were pouting, wet
and open. His hand slid easily between them as her hand
slid easily along him, and they stroked each other slowly
to the beat of the water at the base of the seawall.

In the candlelight she pushed him back eventually, and
mounted him, not bothering to remove the skirt, just
spreading it over their legs. Her breasts fell in his
face as she pushed herself back and down, feeling her
lips spread and enfold him, feeling his stiff thickness
slide deep into her heat, the pounding rising in her, the
need to thrust and fill herself with him.

Their cries went out and mixed with the candlelight and
were lost in the wash of the sea against the rocks, but
the night was full of their joy.

Hors d'Ouerve

He invited her to dinner the next day. Maybe they could
go to this new Italian place, he said. Of course, she
accepted. They would meet in the lobby at 6:30.

In the cab, going uptown, they talked about work. His
hand moved across the space between them during the
conversation. As he spoke he began to draw circles on the
back of her hand, circles that alternated with strokes.
His touch was so light, like just breathing on her skin.
It was, of course. exactly the way she touched herself
and wanted him to touch her, though not in the back of a
cab and not on the back of her hand. It riveted her
attention. She stared dumbly at his hand on hers, not
seeing it, feeling it, feeling her imagination and desire
transplant the sensations from the back of her hand to
her shoulder and cheek, to the side of her breast and the
inside of her thigh.

This process might have reached her nipples and clitoris,
which were quite ready to be reached, believe me, except
that they were there and had to get out. He escorted her
inside and took her to the table he had reserved. They
were seated, given menus, orders were taken. She went
through the whole restaurant ritual on auto-pilot, until
the ice water calmed her down.

After the salad, she opened the conversation with "I'm
really looking forward to kissing you later this
evening." It was a little scary, starting like that, but
it was honest and direct and it brought up the subject
she most wanted to talk about.

"I hope you're looking forward to being kissed in
return," he replied. "I'm certainly looking forward to
kissing you. Kissing is a way of speaking without words,
and we have a lot to say to each other. Where do you like
to be kissed?"

Various parts of her body all began shouting at once that
they should be mentioned first in answer to this
question. Her pussy argued strenuously that since being
kissed there felt best, it should be mentioned first. Her
nipples rose to argue that they should be mentioned
because they came first in a physical sense, and would
also be a good compromise between the obvious and the
sluttish. Her lips said they would get kissed first
anyway, so they should get top billing. Her skin answered
that since it was biggest it was in the running too.

It was very hard to keep everything straight and answer
the question with all of these places getting excited and
reminding her brain of just what it felt like to get
kissed in one particular spot or another. She took a deep
breath and told all the different parts to shut up for
now, that with any luck they would all get kissed sooner
or later.

"I'll say the inside of my thigh. It's not the first
place and its not the last, but getting there can be half
the fun, n'est pas? And you? Where do you like to be
kissed?"

He smiled. "Taxicabs, sofas, bedrooms, most anywhere,
really."

"Taxicabs, sofas, bedrooms, what an interesting
progression they make."

Dinner arrived. They talked about how long they had
watched each other in the office, wanting to break the
ice, but not knowing how. They talked about losing
virginity and the importance of going slow. All the while
she was thinking about him, how it would feel when he
first kissed her, how it would feel to lean against him
and press her breasts against his chest. She wanted to
know what he would feel like above her and the taut
expectation of her first opening her legs to him. And
most of all, how he would kiss her pussy and bring her to
orgasm with his tongue on her clit.

She excused herself and went to the bathroom. Her panties
were damp from her imagining. She took them off and held
them clenched in her fist as she walked back to the
table. She dropped them in his lap as she sat down.

"I don't think I'll be needing those the rest of the
evening and I want you to know what an impression you're
making on me."

"I'm equally as impressed, I assure you," he said.

The table they were sitting at had a long tablecloth on
it, one that draped down over her thighs. She leaned back
in her chair and started talking in a whisper. He had to
lean forward just to hear what she was saying.

"Someone looking under this tablecloth right now could
really get an eyeful of my pussy, because I'm going to
spread my legs and my dress is going to slide up my
thighs when I do, and of course you know now that I have
no panties on. So my dark wiry hair would be plain as day
around my pussy. I can slide my hand along my thigh and
through my hair and start to spread my lips apart. Inside
I'm very wet already and when I touch my clit my fingers
are slick. I can give myself a very soft touch, a
stroking, circling touch that's just right. The more I
touch myself the hotter and wetter I get and my fingers
get wetter and stickier. I usually just keep going on and
on like this and when I want to come I start to imagine
that I'm getting kissed on my clit by a wonderful man who
knows just what to do and how softly I want him to kiss
me. But I wouldn't do that right now, because I think you
might be that wonderful man, and I want you to be that
wonderful man. But I thought you should know that that's
the effect your having on me."

She brought her right hand up from beneath the table and
laid it flat on the white cloth. The tips of her middle
fingers glistened wetly.

He stared at her for a long time. She was afraid he had
taken the whole thing the wrong way when he began to
smile.

"Let's not stay for dessert."

"Agreed."

Taxi

Outside the restaurant, they held hands waiting for a
taxi.

"I'd like to take you home tonight," she said. "I have a
sofa, I have a bedroom. If one ever comes, we can start
with a taxi and see how far things go."

He agreed. Soon after, they flagged down a taxi and got
in. They sat close together in the back. As they started
through the night traffic she put her hand to his face.
His beard and skin were warm to her palm as she turned
him and brought him close. She wanted to kiss him hard
and show what she was feeling, but she held back at
first. Their lips just touched, half open, brushing back
and forth. They met again, pressed forward a little,
stuck together and then parted, pulling at each other.
Several more times they kissed like this, exploring the
surface textures of each other. Then she felt the heat
well up inside her. Her eyes closed, her hand stole
behind his neck and drew him close. With a little animal
noise in her throat her mouth opened his, inviting his
deep kiss and kissing him deeply in return. This was what
she wanted then, more than anything. She melted in the
heat of it, her pulse shouted in her ears and thudded
between her legs. She felt dizzy, holding him tight in
the vertigo of desire.

They kissed through the stop and go of city traffic,
through the random lane changes that taxis make in some
form a dominance ritual that only their drivers
understand. She was very aware of not having her panties
on. As they crossed the bridge she broke from kissing him
and holding him close began to whisper in his ear.

"Your kisses are so wonderful, soft and slow or hot and
deep depending. I'm glad I don't have to fight you, that
we can explore each other. I love your kisses on my skin,
how you've kissed my cheek and neck, my ear and temple. I
want your mouth on the rest of me. Kissing my shoulders,
sucking my breast, I know it will feel so good when you
take my nipple in your mouth. And I'm desperate for your
mouth between my legs. On my thighs like I told you,
slowly. Tease me, let me know where your going before you
get there. I have dark, wiry hair around my pussy, you'll
find out soon. I want to feel my hair tangled in your
beard, the little pull and tension on my skin as you
move. I want you to taste me, open me and taste me. I've
been wet for you since before dinner. I want your beard
and mustache wet with me. I know you'll be good to me
then, not too hard or rough with me where I'm most tender
and sensitive. Just the lightest touch thrills me. I want
your tongue to take my breath away with just the
slightest touch.

"You know I'm not wearing panties. If we were on my sofa
I'd want you to keep kissing me, not play with my breasts
or try just yet to take my clothes off. I'll give you my
breasts later and the clothes are a game in themselves.
But just sitting on the sofa kissing I'd want you to put
your hand on my thigh, knowing I have no panties on.
Touch me slowly, higher and higher. Keep kissing me and
as you move your hand I'll spread myself for you, because
I want you to be there, touching me. When your fingers
are sticky and wet I want to lick them and share the
taste with you. I know you'll have a gentle touch with
me. Maybe you'll want to kneel on the rug and kiss me
there. I'd be spread wide open then and very ready, ready
for you. You could spread my lips and lick the juice off
me, I wouldn't want you to stop.

"I have to keep my legs together now, I don't want this
whole taxi smelling like my pussy. But you should know
that I want you tonight to be between my legs in so many
different ways. My head and heart are already committed,
everything else follows helplessly."

She hugged him and kissed him again. They pulled up
outside her building and got out, tipping the driver
generously. She felt the cool night air on her thighs as
she got out, a contrast to the hot dampness high up
between her legs. She felt shaky on her feet, and leaned
against him heavily as they walked into her building.
Standing in the elevator, kissing, standing close, she
felt a trickle on the inside of her thigh. She shivered.
She had told him everything, had revealed herself to him.
And very soon she would know that she had done the right
thing.

Sofa

Her apartment was dark, but she didn't bother to turn on
the lights. She pulled up the window coverings and let
the pale moonlight and the diffuse cityglow paint the
room pale silver. He pushed the door closed behind him.
She crossed back to the door to lock it. She pulled him
close and kissed him, tasting him again and feeling his
heat. Breaking their embrace, she took his coat and laid
it with hers on the old school bench near her door.

She took him by the hand and led him silently to her
couch. His hand was very warm in hers. They sat together,
with a little space between them so that they could turn
and face each other. He put his arm over her shoulders
and around her, his other hand held hers with their
fingers interlaced. They spoke quietly, with their heads
close together.

"Thank you for dinner," she said. "It was wonderful food
and delightful company and conversation that was...
stimulating."

"The company can be stimulating, too. You were telling me
about your pussy, how excited you were. I'm very excited
also. It's pretty amazing to hear a woman talk like that,
very intimate, very erotic. I want to touch you just
right, kiss you just right. Like this."

He touched her cheek with the tip of his finger, as light
as baby's breath. He traced a line from her cheekbone to
her ear and along the line of her jaw, just making
contact with her skin. Then he wet his fingertip in his
mouth and touched her open lips. He moistened her lips,
and wetting his fingertip again, touched her lower lip in
the middle, making the tiniest circles. She stopped him,
gasping.

"Oh, yes, that's it, that's just how I want you playing
with my clit. Soft and delicate. Use your tongue like
that and I'll come so hard, I know it. I dream of being
touched like that. When I touch myself I think of being
kissed that way, on and on."

He looked intently at her.

"Would you show me?", he asked. "Would you show me how
you touch yourself? You know yourself better than anyone.
I'd love to learn how to do exactly what you like from
the one who knows best what that is. Don't just tell me,
show me."

"You'd like that?"

"Yes."

She got up and went to sit in the chair.

"I never play with myself with all these clothes on. If
you want to see me play with myself I'll have to take off
my clothes."

She took off her glasses and laid them on the table. She
opened the buttons of her suit one by one.

"I'm going to pretend you're not here. No offense of
course. As a matter of fact, its very exciting to be
asked to share this with you. I'm going to pretend that
I've come home late from work and I'm too tired to turn
on the light. I raised the coverings on the windows and
I've come to sit in this chair and unwind. I feel a lot
of sexual tension because there's this man in the office
that I wish I could talk to. Well, more than talk to.
He's really attractive and sweet and more than anything I
wish I could fuck him and that he would go down on me and
make me come with his mouth on my pussy. So I'm tired and
more than a little bit horny this evening as I take my
suit jacket off. And I think, why not? Why not be nice to
myself tonight, I think."

She took her jacket and folded it neatly and laid it on
the back of the couch, next to him. Underneath the jacket
she had on a white silk sleeveless blouse. She began to
untuck it as she continued speaking.

"Sometimes I can sit in this chair in the dark, and look
out my window over the rooftops and see the moon. I
pretend there's a man in the moon with a super powerful
telescope, so powerful he can read the want-ads over your
shoulder with it. He can see me sitting in this chair,
see every detail of how I strip and put my legs over the
arms of the chair. My pussy is facing straight out the
window and he can zoom in his telescope right between my
legs until he can see every hair on my pussy and every
move I make with my fingers between my legs. He's been
watching me play with myself since I lay in my bed in my
parent's house on the other side of the continent. He
watched my first explorations of myself. Wherever I've
traveled he's found me with his telescope and watched me
as I came, who knows how many times over the years. He
gets really turned on watching me, someday he'll come to
the Earth and introduce himself and I'll let him go down
on me, because he knows better than any other man how to
satisfy me.

"So tonight I'll sit in this chair and pretend I'm being
watched by a man who'll know from watching me just how to
do it right, just how I touch myself and how I like to be
touched."

She crossed her arms and pulled the blouse over her head.
Underneath the blouse was a pale camisole, with thin
straps over her shoulders. In the pale light it almost
seemed to glow ethereally. Beneath that was evidently
nothing. Her breasts gave the camisole rounded curves and
shadows and her nipples stood out against the otherwise
soft contours. She unzipped the skirt behind her and let
it drop slowly to the floor. Then she picked it up and
folded it neatly and set it next to the jacket. She sat
back down in the chair, wearing just the camisole. She
began to play with her breasts through the shimmering
fabric. She pinched and rolled her nipples or pulled them
upright with her fingernails. She cupped her breasts and
let them fall, rubbing against the soft cloth. Her
breathing became a series of murmurs and sighs.

After a short while, she slipped the thin straps off her
shoulders. She pulled her arms free of the straps and
rolled down the top of the flimsy garment to reveal her
breasts. She licked her fingers and repeated all the
playful actions of before, with the addition of wetting
her nipples for the pinching and rolling and pulling. The
camisole slipped farther and farther down her stomach,
gathering finally as a pale white ring around her waist.

Now she sat back in the chair. For a moment she was
still, unmoving. Then she raised one leg and rested her
heel on the edge of the cushion. She stroked her leg with
the tips of her fingers and her nails, very delicately
and slowly. She brought up the other leg and repeated the
touches, obviously luxuriating in her sensation. She
began to work more and more on the inside of her thighs,
stroking back and forth inward from her knees and back
again. As she did so, her legs fell farther and farther
apart, until at last her knees had fallen to rest against
the arms of the wide chair. Her whole pubic area lay
exposed, a dark place as yet unexplored in any way.

She hooked her legs slowly over the arms of the chair,
slouching into it. The tendons stood out taut on the
inside of her thighs. She was stretched as wide open as
she could go. She tilted her head back and started to
slip her fingers through the shadow of her pubic hair.
Her fingers traced the outline of her pussy's outer lips
and flicked the hair back from the edges and from where
it was tangled together. She wetted her fingers and
gradually separated her lips, spreading herself out,
completely open to view.

She peeled back her inner lips in the same slow fashion.
With her pussy open and glistening, she pulled back the
hood of skin from her clit. One hand held her clit
exposed while the other, wet from her pussy and her
mouth, strummed lightly across the face of it. She was
completely still except for the flickering movement of
her hand.

Occasionally she shifted or stopped to rewet her fingers
or rest a brief space. But then she would resume, some
variation of the passage of her fingers stroking her
clit. The tension slowly built in the rest of her body,
in the intensity of her expression, in the quickness of
her stroke. Now her breath came in ragged gasps, and a
long low moan, and then a heaving thrashing climax with
her legs clamping her hand between them, stilling its
rhythm.

She caught her breath, curled up in the chair. When at
last she could speak again, she said "It's usually not
that strong. Its usually a halfway thing. But I think
having you here helped a lot. And I was very excited from
before. In the end I just thought about you over and over
again, going down on me, your tongue doing all those
crazy little things, hot and wet on my clit."

She got up and crossed the space to the couch. She was
naked, he was still fully dressed. Stood in front of him,
then straddled his knees and sat on him and kissed him
hard on the mouth.

"Taxi, Sofa. Bedroom."

"Bedroom," he replied.

Bedroom

She undressed him. She took her time. She was feeling
tingly and relaxed at the same time, the after-effect of
making herself come for him as they sat in the living
room. She was very happy to be in this place and time
with him, that he was there in her bedroom with her. At
first she simply stood and held him close, enjoying the
strength of his embrace, the thump of his heart beneath
his crisp white shirt. And the lump in his pants. Thump +
lump = HUMP, she thought to herself, and suddenly the
desire to be beneath him caught fire inside her. Beneath
him and so so open to his thrust into her. Her hands
shook a little as she undid the buttons.

He bent his head and kissed her, hot and direct on the
mouth. Their tongues slid together. With a little whimper
of pleasure in her throat she held him tight, grinding
her pelvis forward. She felt the roller-coaster,
butterflies-in-the-stomach inside her. Things were going
to go faster than she wanted if she wasn't careful.

He kissed her cheek, her ear. He kissed and nipped her
neck as his hands crept around her sides to cup her
breasts. She wasn't getting any farther with undressing
him as they stood together, him fondling her breasts,
cupping them and tugging at the nipples, she engulfed in
the feelings he was sending through her. She had wanted
him to do this for so long and now it was happening. It
was really his hands moving warmly across her skin, not
just her aching imagination. The way he pinched her
nipple and pulled it was him and not her fantasy of how
he might be.

She removed his hands from her breasts long enough to
undo the cuffs of his shirt. She pulled the shirttails
free and threw it on her dresser. He pulled the
undershirt off without waiting for her. For the first
time, she pressed her breasts against his chest, feeling
them flatten against his warm skin. She held him, swaying
gently for a while.

He knelt and pressed his head to her chest. She put her
arms over his shoulders and held his head close. He
turned his head and began to suck her breast. She knit
her fingers together at the back of his head as he took
her nipple into his mouth.

"Oh, sweetie, suck my tit. I love your teeth on my
nipple. Oh, yes, harder, even harder, Oh, yes, suck it.
You don't know how hot you're making me."

He kept sucking her breast and she felt his hand begin to
stroke the inside of her leg. Light brushing motions,
rising higher and higher. She turned her leg out to give
him room to reach her pussy. He stroked her hair and
gently separated her pussy lips. All the time he kept
kissing and sucking her breast.

"What you're doing feels so good. You've got me so wet"
She gasped as he slipped his fingers inside her. She felt
him begin to stroke her with his fingers, very slow
deliberate strokes as he sucked her. His fingers pressed
against the front wall of her pussy and every stroke sent
a wave of desire washing across her. It was too good to
make him stop. He kept sucking and stroking her, and she
felt the certainty of her orgasm grow within her. It grew
until it filled her and there was no room for anything
but the feeling he was giving her and then it was more
than she could stand and she felt herself coming,
clenching her pussy around his fingers, her tit pulling
loose from his mouth as she shook in moment of it.

She leaned against him, recovering her breath. He hugged
her, then holding her tight, picked her up and sat her on
the bed.

"You're too tired to help now. Just watch and rest for a
bit".

She leaned back on her elbows, her long dark hair
spilling over her shoulders. She lay, her lower legs
dangling over the edge, her legs slightly spread.

He unbuckled his belt, stepped out of his pants and
pulled off his socks. His erection was very obvious in
his underwear. He reached into his briefs and
straightened his cock, put his hands on his hips and
pulled the briefs off slowly.

She watched his cock emerge, wonderfully erect and stiff.
It made her mouth water to see it in the half light. The
feeling inside her was like a force tugging her legs
apart the longer she stared at him.

"Lean back and close your eyes," he said.

"You were so generous to me, out there in the other room.
You gave me something so private and precious. You let me
into a moment of vulnerability most people never share.
Someday I'll repay you. I'll let you see me in that same
moment of privacy, of vulnerability. Now let me give you
that feeling you've said you wanted."

She took her knees and pulled them up and out, offering
herself to him. Her tongue ran around her lips. He knelt.
He kissed her thigh and ran his tongue along it, then
nipped her skin along the trail that his tongue left,
hard enough to make gasp and shiver. He nipped the taut
tendon in her groin.

He held his hand flat over her pussy. With slow large
circles he brought it closer, till it began to brush
against the damp hairs of her pussy. She let go her
breath in a long exhalation of delight. He leaned close
and let his breath carress her. She responded with a
quiet moan.

"Oh, please, now, I need you now." She pulled the lips of
her pussy back with one hand, the other searched for his
head, sliding around it to pull him closer. Propelled by
her hand, he bent his head to kiss her finally. Her cry
carried on the moonlight, soft and delicate.

He reinserted his fingers as he kissed her. His tongue
caressed her clit with the tenderness of a feather. He
took her clit in his mouth and sucked it delicately in a
way that brought her to the edge and then released her.
Her pussy pulsed around his fingers and he began to
slowly stroke her again. He pressed his face into her
pussy and set his tongue fluttering over her clit, laying
a hundred different kisses on its shaft and top and hood.

She was moving her fingers to match his slow strokes. Her
fingers pulled at the folds of her pussy as his fingers
slid out, and released the tension as he penetrated her
again. Everything said she was ready to come. He felt it,
felt it in the way her hand pressed his head into her, in
the throb of her clit under his tongue, in the silence
where her gasps had been. He didn't change his pace or
the motion of his tongue, just let her crawl closer and
closer to the inevitable moment. Then suddenly the moment
came and she was coming with a wail of ecstasy and
thrashing of her hips as she caught his head between her
legs and held him until the spasms passed.

She turned and pulled back the sheets, crawled underneath
and put her head down on the pillow.

"That was so sweet, so right. I love you. I knew you
would do it just right. I want you. I want you loving me
slow and easy. I want to spread myself beneath you, put
my legs around you, feel you slide yourself inside me."

He slid under the covers, beside her. He felt very warm
next to her, as they kissed she could feel his heartbeat
and the hot length of his cock against her belly. If he
hadn't moved to kneel between her legs, she would have
pulled him there. She grabbed his cock and lubricated it
with her spit, and doing the same to her pussy, guided
him inside her.

It was good and slow and everything she wanted it to be.
He slowly filled her and she felt his hot stiffness
inside, rubbing away the ache of desire. He stopped deep
within her to kiss her, to rock their hips together and
let her adjust beneath him. His withdrawal was
deliciously slow, his return ecstasy. She knew he
couldn't keep it slow forever, he must have been so
excited himself. So when he pressed himself to her,
burying his face in her neck and his fucking her
quickened, she encouraged him.

"Oh, yes, please come in me now, give it to me, fuck me,
harder, oh yes, come in me, come, come, fuck me, oh, oh,
oh!"

She was coming herself, in a way she rarely had before.
They cried out together in a mingled climax.

It was their first time.

Sisters Ng: White Hands by Deidre Ng

Dear Tammy,

Do you remember how we used to lie in the back yard,
sunning ourselves? We'd spread out the towels and lie
down head to head. The bathing suits came off and we
passed the tanning lotion back and forth. I remember
smearing it across my belly and up over my breasts,
making sure it covered my skin completely was such a good
excuse to rub my tits real well. The excess lotion would
squish between my fingers as I pulled at my nipples,
which felt just divinely stiff and huge. Then doing my
legs without getting up, lifting and splaying my legs to
rub myself along the thigh, working the lotion into my
skin, rubbing really close to my pussy, legs still
lifted, pussy pointed at the sky, rubbing around,
fluffing my pussy hair, gently loosening my pussy lips,
feeling them slide deliciously against each other. I'd
get up and do your back after you turned over, and then
you would do mine after I had lain back down again.

We'd lie like that, stretched out in the back yard on our
stomachs, tanning our backs for a while, usually until
the sizzle of roasting flesh told us it was time to turn
over. I could feel my breasts pressed into the terrycloth
of the beach towel, and through that the grass stiffly
pillowing me. Sometimes I would raise up on my elbows and
let my tits swing against the towel til my nipples
stiffened again.

Its a good thing we had our own code of modesty, never
looking at each other. Sometimes I would lift my ass and
point it right at the sun, feeling the heat soak into my
ass and pussy. Then I'd make you pass me the lotion and
I'd spread it across my ass cheeks in an extra layer, not
wanting to get burned in those sensitive spots,
anticipating the feel of it rubbed into my crack and over
my asshole, into the space between my ass and my pussy. I
always shivered when my lotion covered fingers slid over
my asshole, my nipples swelled and I got goosebumps no
matter how hot it was. I willed my muscles to relax as I
rubbed the lotion into my ass. I'd make sure my finger
was well covered with the lotion before teasing my hole
open, first just rubbing it around and around, then
pressing gently on it and on the space that separated it
from my pussy.

Eventually my finger would slide in to my ass and I'd
work it slowly deeper, til it felt all the way inserted.
I'd fuck my ass with my finger until I got pretty
breathless, then I'd take it out and catch my breath,
savoring the sun beating into my skin and the residual
feeling in my ass. If you weren't there I sometimes
fingered my clit afterwards with my other hand, ass still
pointing skyward, the extra warmth flooding me. It felt
so good, all the warm juice running down over my clit.
Imagining a boy becoming a man in me, long and stiff and
so big, filling me, sliding up into my pussy. I'd come
with my back arched and twisted as I reached back between
my legs, face pressed against the terry towel, smelling
its newly laundered smell. I still get wet from that
smell.

But the best thing when we were together in the back yard
was turning over and lying face up. We were so close that
the tops of our heads almost touched. Behind closed eyes
the whole world was yellow and orange and red spots
drifting around, and the warmth of the sun spreading
across your skin. Then we would talk, girl talk, sister
talk, I suppose anyone could have seen as much of us as
they wanted, were they peeping, but they wouldn't have
heard us. Our voices traveled just far enough for the
other to hear.

And we told each other stories. I suppose it started with
the gross out stories we told each other as kids,
ridiculous mock horror stories we'd whisper to each other
at night across the room after we'd been yelled at three
times to be quiet and go to sleep. Somewhere in the
middle of my pubescence these seemed to all start taking
an erotic edge. We also started telling them when we were
sunbathing, though at first we didn't sunbathe in the
nude. I remember awful stories full of a girl's worst
fears, tinged with an excitement that seemed to linger
between your legs after you listened to your sister spin
wild fantasies. I remember stories of periods, getting
them at the most inconvenient moments, being caught with
no tampon, being seen changing your tampon by your
sister, mother, boyfriend, stranger, gym class, on TV!
There was no end to the ways your body could mortally
embarass you.

Being caught playing with yourself was another popular
subject. Neither of us ever said where our knowlege of
this subject came from, but we knew how to describe
lifting your bra to squeeze your newly minted breasts and
nipples, what it felt like to let your fingers wander
down below the new grown patch of hair between your legs.
So we told each other stories about being discovered in
your bunk at church camp, the way the squeek of the
springs gave you away, how the lights out monitor crept
up to your bunk and suddenly clicked on the flashlight,
the beam shining up between your legs, catching your
finger plunged deep into your secret space.

One day you told me a story about a girl and her
boyfriend. He was wonderful to her, taking her on dates,
giving her gifts, never looking at the sluts that would
try any wild, lascivious thing to attract his attention.
His kissing drove her wild and after their times together
she would touch herself all over, wishing his hands would
roam over her body. They were in love. And then one day
they were alone in her parents house. They went up to her
bedroom and closed the door. She sat on the edge of her
bed, looking at him with desire. He stood looking at her,
hands on his hips, feet apart. There was a strange look
in his eye.

"Would you like to give me a very special kiss?", he
says. Of course, she says. "Then kiss me like this ..."
He undid his belt and slipped his jeans over his ass. As
he stripped her horror grew as she understood what he
wanted her to do. His hand slid into his underwear and
pulled out his thick, snakelike cock. A few quick pumps
of his hand and it was stiff, pointing straight at her
mouth. Her jaw hung open, she was horrified at the
thought of what he wanted from her. He took it as an
invitation to step closer.

I remember giggling nervously, interrupting you just as
he cradled the back of her head and began to draw her
lips closer to his throbbing cock.

"Tammy, you are so gross! Not in a million years, not for
a million dollars would I ever, ever do that. I mean,
just imagine if he, if he, you know..." I couldn't bring
myself to express the image that was flashing over and
over in my head, the girl's lips stretched wide around
the head of his gigantic cock, the spurting jets of white
come landing in her mouth.

"You didn't let me finish the story," you said.

"You mean she kissed it?"

"She kissed it and licked it."

"She licked it?

"She licked it and sucked it."

"She sucked it?"

"She sucked it all the way in and out again and after a
while it was just like he was fucking her mouth, he was
pumping it into her so deep."

"She let him fuck her mouth?"

"Til he got even stiffer and thicker and with one last
slide over her tongue he spilled it into her mouth and
she held it in her mouth while his cock shot out his hot
white come and it mixed with her spit and her mouth was
so full of his cock and his come and her spit that she
thought she was going to choke, so she started to swallow
it."

"That's completely gross, Tammy, how could you even say
that."

"You're such a jerk, Deedee. It's just a story. Besides,
there's nothing you'd like better than to get shot full
like that in your pussy, and maybe someday some old blind
deaf guy who's gonna die tomorrow anyway will take pity
on your desperate virginity and spill his last drop into
you. But if a wad of come doesn't give you cramps when
it's in your pussy, I don't think it would make you throw
up or anything if you swallowed it."

"Like you're the expert."

"Like it was my turn to tell the story, ok? It's your
turn next, so you can tell a better one."

Which ended that conversation. I lay there thinking about
your story. I was the girl. My nipples were stiff and
tingling. My mouth was open. My clit was throbbing. I
shifted on the towel and parted my legs. It was in my
mouth, this boy's cock, wet and thick, sliding over my
lips and gagging me. One hand drifted down to start
tracing the outline of my cunt, following the base of the
mound, delicately touching the centerline where the lips
met. My knowlege of how to pleasure myself was so new
then, I always approached my pussy with amazement that
such powerful feelings could be hidden in such a small
and heretofore inconspicuous part of my body. My outer
lips seemed to unfold at the slightest touch. I swallowed
a gasp as my finger grazed my clit. My other hand had
found one of my nipples and was lightly stroking it.

Can a girl lie on a towel in her back yard and come so
quietly her sister doesn't notice, even though her sister
is lying next to her? I tried.

So by now I'm sure you remember how we used to sunbathe
in the nude in our backyard, and I'll admit how clueless
I was about cocksucking. While I did do some nude
sunbathing in Greece this summer, and I did get fucked
while sunbathing in the nude in Greece this summer, the
reason I remembered this really has to do with a woman
that I work with named Sally. She's very nice, very tall
and elegant looking, long thin fingers and elegant,
finely boned hands. We work in the same department,
similar jobs, and we always got along.

One day last spring I was in the ladies room right after
lunch, standing in front of the mirror brushing my hair,
getting ready to put it back in a pony tail. She came up
beside me and started touching up her makeup. We were
alone. Out of nowhere she leaned over to me and said in
this kind of stage whisper, "Well, someone got fucked
during lunch today."

Since I had gotten fucked during lunch that day, I was
completely mortified. We had been walking back to the
office when David had said to me, "How'd you like to get
fucked for dessert?"

"OK, but where?"

Manhattan has millions of square feet of vacant office
space. We used about sixteen to twenty in a building
about a block and a half from the one we work in. It was
really a quickie, he shucked his shoes and pants, I
peeled off my nylons and panties and I pushed him down
and sat on his cock. I had gotten pretty wet on the
elevator ride. I fucked him really fast, it felt so good
feeling him get harder and harder inside me. He came and
I came and I forgot to breathe for a while and then he
slid out of me and we cleaned up with some tissues I had
in my purse. Ten to fifteen minutes, max.

I must have turned ten shades of red.

"Does it show that much?"

"Not after I fix my lipstick." She looked at me. "I
really did mean me, you look fine. But if the shoe
fits..." She smiled. "It does wonders for your attitude,
doesn't it?"

Since then Sally and I were members of the Attitude
Adjustment Club. We would cross paths and make small talk
and if the phrase attitude adjustment came up, we knew we
talking about getting fucked.

Sally just returned from a two week vacation. She's a
real golf nut, so I think she and her husband spent the
whole time at some place like Hilton Head, golfing. I saw
her the morning of her first day back. She was tanned
almost chocolate. Everywhere but her hands, which were
snow white. It was so unusual, I just stared at her hands
throughout this big meeting our department has. Watching
her take notes, I thought it was like a pair of doves had
decided to settle down in front of her. Every once in a
while they would flutter up to pull at a strand of her
hair that was out of place. Or that she was wearing a
pair of white gloves, and any minute she would take them
off to reveal her tanned skin underneath.

Of course it was her golfing gloves that were
responsible. I went over to her as the meeting broke up.
I said she looked great, the vacation must have been
quite relaxing. Oh, yes, she said, a major attitude
adjustment, we'd have to have lunch and talk about it.

We sat in the lunchroom, at a table as private as
possible, but still we spoke just loud enough for the
other one to hear.

"Yes, we tried to play at least eighteen holes a day. Its
the most golf I've ever played in so short a time. We had
a great time, I found the courses very challenging, but
by the end I had picked up some of the nuances, which
kept me from making the mistakes I made at the beginning.

My golfing outfit is always very casual, I'm not one of
these dress-up lady golfers. I prefer a light cotton
blouse with big arm holes and shorts, and I play braless
when possible. My husband says its our secret weapon,
since it distracts any opponent."

I could see why. Sally was very shapely. I supposed many
female golfers might be upset with effect she had on
their partners, and the partners would always be looking
for a peek into those big arm holes.

"We played a few rounds with another couple that was
staying for the same two weeks we were and had dinner and
drinks with them too. After the first couple of times
this other woman, who was named Traci, was wearing pretty
much the same outfit as me, and I caught my husband
trying to sneak a peek at her boobs a few times. I told
her in the locker room that now I knew how it felt to be
on the receiving end of the boob trick. She laughed. We
were both bare chested at the time. She said that if he
wanted to see any more of her we'd have to go double
dating. I asked her what she meant.

"Don't you remember going on double dates as a teenager?
If you were getting fucked in the back seat and the other
couple was screwing in the front you usually got a few
flashes of skin from them. One time I was fucking my
boyfriend in the front seat. He was kind of slouched down
and I was turned around sitting on his cock. I was
bouncing along, sliding up and down his rod while he
played with my tits. In the back was this girlfriend of
mine and her boyfriend. Since I was turned around like
that I got to watch her give him a blowjob start to
finish.

The first glimpse I got of them, they had all their
clothes on, but her blouse was all opened up and her bra
undone, and his hand was up her skirt. As we made out in
the front seat I could here the squishy sound of his
fingers in her cunt. It got me all excited, that and the
noises she was making. My boyfriend was obviously excited
too, so I decided to make some squishy sounds of my own.

Well, by the time I had finished working him into me my
girlfriend had come already and was moving to
reciprocate. She had her boyfriends pants down and he was
in one corner of the back seat with one leg up on the
seat and one leg splayed out in front. She was kneeling
on the seat, her tits swinging free. She was just
starting to go down on him. I watched his cock disappear
into her mouth, then come out again all wet and
glistening. I found myself matching her stroke for
stroke. It really turned me on. My boy friend got a real
tight pussy that night. I rode him til he got so he had
to pump it into me, and as he came I could feel myself
letting go too, even as I saw the white dribbles of this
other guy's come slide down his cock as my girlfriend
sucked him off."

Sally looked at me. "Understand, this is all said to a
pretty much absolute stranger, half naked in a women's
locker room in Hilton Head, South Carolina. But I had to
agree with her. I had more than one double date myself
where stuff like that happened. Certainly I knew that
some other girl was getting it good about two feet away
from me. I've heard guys grunting as they came in my
friends mouth or pussy or whereever. I've even done what
she did. Once while my boyfriend and I kissed in the
front seat and his hand tried to find a way inside my
jeans, I watched a girl I knew, out of the corner of my
eye, give a hand job to a guy she had just met. No wonder
she was so popular. They were kissing deep and hard while
her hand stroked him. Her tee shirt was pushed up over
her boobs, and he was tweaking one of her nipples pretty
hard. When he got close to coming they stopped kissing
and they both just watched as her hand teased the come
out of him. Then she bent down and sucked it all off to
clean up. Yeah, she was popular. It got me so excited, I
came before my boyfriend had my panties off."

Understand, this is all said to a pretty much absolute
stranger, completely and professionally dressed in a
lunchroom in lower Manhattan. But I had to agree with
her. I've had more than one double date myself where
stuff like that has happened. I've known it when some guy
got it good from a friend of mine about two feet away
from me. I've heard girls go over the edge, moaning,
sighing, wailing as they came from the slow hand or quick
tongue of a guy. I've even done what she did. The first
time I ever saw a girl take a cock from behind was in the
back seat while I was in the front, hand jobbing my
highschool sweetheart. She rolled down the window and
rested her head halfway out. He was up and over her, bent
low across her back. She rocked her ass back and forth,
and I could see his cock, lubricated with her juice,
glinting wetly by the light of a distant streetlight. She
must have been pretty tight with her legs close together
on the seat. After a while he plunged deep into her and
she arched her back and made this little animal sound in
her throat and their bodies started slapping together
harder and harder. The moment he came in her they were
pressed together, frozen like statues. I knew all the
action was taking place deep inside her, her pussy
clenching his spasming cock. The look on her face, that
was when I decided I didn't want to be a virgin any more.

"Anyway," Sally said," anyway I told this to my husband
who thought it pretty funny, but who was also very
interested in the part where I told him what this woman
Traci looked like with no shirt on. So we had dinner with
Traci and Mark, her husband, a couple of days later, and
we all had a a drink or two, so we were all laughing and
being silly about what fools we had all been getting
caught in this sand trap or that piece of rough and the
subject of distractions comes up and we all know that
what we're talking about are the two pairs of boobs
present. Well mine perked right up and Traci started to
blush and everyone could see her nipples standing up. Now
the talk turned into a description of sex in terms of
golf. I was feeling very randy and I squeezed my husbands
cock through his pants, and I was very happy to find it
stiff when I did.

The check came and after we had wrangled out who was
paying for what, there was general agreement that a
"hole" of "night golf" was in order. Both couples were
starting to share rather passionate kisses as we waited
for the elevator. We got in and pushed the buttons for
our floors. My husband's hand was fondling my ass.

Suddenly this guy Mark says, "Would you like to double
date with us in our room?"

We knew just what he meant, our room had two double beds
also. I looked at my husband.

"Let us go back to our room and talk it over. What's your
room number?"

To cut to the chase we decided to trust them.

They opened the door and the men shook hands and the
ladies kissed each others cheeks. We agreed that this was
not about wife swapping or orgies, just a little fun
making love to your spouse in the same room as someone
else was making love to their spouse. Casual looking was
allowed but neither couple was hung up on watching or
being watched. Other than that we didn't make any rules.

Well, how interesting is it to hear about two married
couples making love? We each took a bed. The lights were
off, but it was a full moon, so when your eyes adjusted
you could still see in a kind of romantic paleness. My
husband undressed me and kissed me all over before
stripping himself. He knelt at the bedside and parted my
legs and kissed my skin up and down my thighs before
kissing my pussy. Normally I would just lie there and
enjoy one of the best feelings known to women, but this
time I propped myself up on my elbows to watch my pussy
get eaten, which is fun, and to see what Traci and Mark
were up to. Turns out Traci was on the floor also, going
down on Mark. My husband said later that when she first
got down on the floor she was ass to ass with him, but
then moved over so that they weren't touching.

Mark could have seen all of me that he wanted to, except
for the part my husband was busy licking, but he seemed
to have his eyes closed, and he was softly stroking
Traci's hair as she sucked his cock. I know he pulled her
up and had her mount him before he came, but by then I
was caught up in what was happening between my own legs.
My husbands fingers were stroking my pussy while his
tongue flicked my clit, a combination sure to make me
come. I wasn't quiet about it either, not that I
disturbed the governor in his mansion, but Traci and Mark
now know what I sound like when I come, and probably the
people in the next room, too.

I like his cock inside me after I come, I love feeling
the glow of the orgasm sloshing around in me while his
cock sinks deeper and deeper into my ultra juicy cunt. He
just stood up after I came and leaned over the edge of
the bed, leaned over and into me. As he got fully into me
I let go a really deep sigh, it is so satisfying to get 
fucked like that by the man you love."

Sally squirmed in her seat a little, and for sure I knew
why. Her description had my pussy pulsing. I was flushed
and felt my blood throbbing in my neck.

"We double dated them twice more. The day we left we said
good bye to them. We exchanged addresses and all. Maybe
we'll see them again. And how was your summer vacation?"

I told her all about Greece.

Two nice things happened in Greece that I haven't told
you about yet. One was that we were swimming one day, I
forget the island we were on. We swam out from the beach
to this big rock and when we swam around it to the
seaward side of it we found that it had a little sealevel
cave in it, with a little pebble beach. We got out of the
water and sat there for a while. We started kissing and
the next thing I knew the suits were off. We kept on
kissing and my hand found his cock. I just held him and
stroked him in a lazy romantic way. I know it's got other
uses, but sometimes it's just nice to hold on to. His
hand drifted between my legs. Our kissing got a little
more serious. He made me wet his finger in my mouth to
lubricate his slow exploration of my pussy. Each time he
interrupted our kissing I got a stronger and stronger
taste of my own juice. After he gets me excited like that
I'm lousy at mutual masturbation or sixty-nine. My
consciousness drains out of my head and gathers in my
clit. I held on to his cock, squeezing it, enjoying the
way it filled my hand, rubbing him during the pauses when
I was licking his fingers.

I knew I was far enough along that this little scene was
going the direction of an orgasm for me. But there's lots
of ways to come. I usually come when I fuck him. It
suprised me when we first started making love, how he'd
be inside me and all of a sudden I'd be bucking up and
down on him. My past experience certainly hadn't prepared
me for it. Anyway, this time I used my last shred of
higher cognition to push him down and roll over on top of
him. I humped him with our backs to the blue Aegean. I
wanted to take him slow, but I was already so far gone
myself that his first total penetration made me lose
control. If you were swimming past that cave you would
have seen me pumping up and down his cock, my pussy
taking it up to his balls, pulling off him and back down
again. Just the base of his cock showing as the strokes
got deeper and shorter, the lips of my cunt stretched
tight around his cock. When its hot like this there's not
even time to reach down and flick my clit. My toes
clenched as I came, came so hard I couldn't feel him
coming inside me.

It turns out that someone had been swimming by. I lifted
myself off his cock and sprawled at his side. Looking out
over the water I saw a snorkeler about fifty yards out.
Who knows how much he saw of us? Probably the whole
fondling, frigging, fucking thing.

I waved at him. He gave me the thumbs up sign and
disappeared into the water. With privacy reestablished
for the moment, I scooted down to the edge of the water.
Spreading my legs, I let the gently lapping surf roll up
between my legs and break against my pussy. I lay there
in the sun, letting the ocean play with me. Sometimes the
water would crest up over my hips and thighs and I'd feel
it creep up among the pepples along my back, almost to my
shoulder blades. The sudden coolth would me make me arch
my back in suprise, nipples stiff. Other times the water
pooled gently between my legs, the warmth of the surface
water tingling the roots of my pussy hair. Then I felt
that if I wanted to give it time, the surf could carress
me til I would come, that this tongue of the sea would
lick at me til it tasted my juice squeezed out of me by 
its incessant lapping. Some waves rolled up my legs and
slapped against my pussy just where my clit was buried
and I had to gasp at how good it felt. It got to where I
could tell from how the wave felt rolling up my thighs if
it would catch me just right. I lay there in trembling
anticipation of the next one that would hit me there.
Yes, I think I could have come, had I lain there long
enough.

We swam back in when David recovered from my fucking him.
I saw the snorkler on the beach. He was with a group of
friends. He was pointing out to the rock where he had
seen us making love. He pounded his fist down onto his
open palm, obviously recounting my lovemaking technique.
I didn't bother watching his version of how I waved to
him. Probably in his telling he came up out of the water
and had me suck him.

Like I said before, there was also a time I was lying on
our private balcony sunning nude. David came up behind me
with the tanning lotion and drizzled it on my back. Lying
there, drowsy from the heat, it felt like ice water. I
squealed and half turned and accused him of all sorts of
nastiness before he calmed me down. I let him spread it
around on my back after I lay down again. He squeezed
more out onto his hands. He rubbed it into my ass cheeks
and the back of my thighs. I spread my legs apart to let
him sit between them to do my thighs.

I was pretty well lotioned up, and the exercise had
become more of a massage than a lotioning. He kneaded my
ass muscles and began to rub the crack of my ass with his
thumbs. Starting from just under my tail bone, moving
slowly deeper, circling around to start at the top again.
Deep enough and he reversed his thumbs to push down over
my asshole, coming to rest just short of my pussy. He
circled and retraced this path a few more times and then
started to concentrate on massaging my asshole and the
space between it and my pussy.

It was all so enjoyable, the warm drowsiness of
sunbathing modulating slowly into sexual arousal and
desire, layered with the awareness that I was living out
one of my hottest teenage fantasies. I let the tension
creep into me, from the pleasure of his hands rubbing my
skin, following his focus on more and more sensitive
areas. He was alternating between circling between my
asshole and my pussy, and circling my asshole alone. His
fingers pressed firmly into my flesh as they moved,
sliding over my lotioned skin.

I lifted my ass and spread my legs out wider, as wide as
when he kneels behind me and I guide his cock between the
hot slippery walls of my fleshy pulsing cunt. He kept up
the slow massage of my ass and skin, pressing a bit
harder and more directly into the center of my hole than
before. I responded by reaching between my legs and
spreading open my pussy lips, tilting my ass so that he
couldn't fail to see the swollen pink mound of my cunt.
Still he didn't change his massage.

Maybe he needed directions. I licked my finger and
slipped it into my pussy. I knew he could see it gliding
in and out, making every surface wet and ready for him.
Still he kept up the slow working of his finger around my
asshole.

I started to plead, to beg. "Fuck me, fuck me, I need it
now, I'm so ready for you. Please."

"That's the magic word."

I reached back a little more between my legs and there he
was, ready and waiting. Taking his cock in hand I pulled
him forward. His cock plunged into me and my pussy
swallowed it up. I felt his legs inside mine. Pushing
back, I felt him stiffen and brace himself so that my
thrust would push him deeper into me. He pulled back til
just his cock head was in me, and he teased me for a bit
before letting me work him back in.

All those sunny summer afternoons in the back yard came
true then. I felt his cock running deep and hot into me,
pussy clamped tight around it. Heat spreading throughout
my body, centered in the sliding friction of his stiff
member against the walls of my cunt. Holding myself still
to recieve his thrust or pushing back myself to take
greedily, we compressed and rebounded over and over.
Finally I felt him swell and grow even more stiff and
large. Our tempo increased to an endless slapping
together, that finally did end as I felt his come spill
into the deepest reaches of my pussy.

He pulled out of me and we collapsed together. He half
covered me, his leg across mine, the last drops of his
semen oozing out of his cock and over my thigh. The
shadow of our hostel crept across us like a blanket being
slowly drawn up over us, and we both fell asleep til
dinner time. We were out of the sun, so we didn't burn,
but the air was warm and the flagstones were warm under
our bodies, so we didn't mind the shade. A wonderful
culmination of my fantasy.

"Well," said Sally, "you had quite a vacation." She
squirmed some more in her seat. "Time to go back to work,
but it was a wonderful lunch. Not quite like one like
we've both had..." and she winked, "but invigorating
nonetheless."

We went back to our floor. I gave her a minute head
start, then went to the ladies room. Her pumps were
visible from under one of the closed stall doors. I took
a stall one away from her. Sitting there, I imagined
Sally entering the stall and lifting her skirt, rolling
down her nylons and panties hurriedly. She relieves
herself perhaps and sits quietly as someone else enters
the room, me. Now that the person is gone she licks one
long elegant finger, one snow white finger, and reaches
down under the folds of her bunched up skirt to test the
puffy flesh between her legs.

One snow white hand holds her pussy open while the other
quickly teases the head of her clit. She bites back the
noises she would normally make, but faintly, faintly the
sound of her breathing and the sound of her hand
flickering ever quicker across her clit rises from her
stall. Can a woman come in a bathroom stall so quietly
that her friend two stalls away can't hear? She tried.

That night I came home to an empty apartment. Jasmine
curled around my ankles proprietarily, of course, but
David wasn't there. He's in Japan for three weeks. It
already feels like forever.

I had a light supper and retired to the bedroom.
Rummaging in the closet, I found something I'd been
thinking about, something I'd need eventually as winter
approaches. I lit a candle and turned off the lights. I
stripped and stood one of my big pillows up on end
against the headboard for a backrest. I looked myself
over in the mirror above my dresser, noting how my hair
flowed over my shoulder, how my breasts moved when I
turned from side to side, how I flared at the hip and how
my pubic hair seemed to lead the eyes between my legs.
Sitting on the bed I picked up the pair of gloves I had
found in the closet. Ultra soft calves leather, fur lined
gloves, they reach just to the wrist.

Sitting naked on the bed, leaning back against the
upright pillow, I pulled the gloves on. The fur felt soft
and sensual as it slid over my hands. I held my hands out
to admire them after I had pulled them on. They looked
like the hands of midnight. I cupped my breasts with
them, and pressed my nipples between my gloved fingers.
The fur felt better on my fingertips than the leather did
on my breasts, though that was still pleasurable.

I pulled them off and poked at the fingers until they
reversed. Then I reached in and pulled each glove
completely inside out. Now I had a pair of snow white fur
gloves, lined in ultra smooth calves leather. I could
feel my heart beating faster as I pulled them on again.
Again I cupped my breasts with my gloved hands, but this
time I held my hands a quarter inch away from my skin.
The fur was just grazing my skin. My breasts felt warm in
the trapped and reflected heat of their own making. Very
slowly I made little circles with my cupped hands,
enjoying each new sensation as the fur stimulated my
breasts. My nipples were aching to be touched, looking
down at myself, I could see that they were standing up,
erect and sensitive. I circled their bases and felt
goosebumps rise across my body. I shivered and started to
stroke them lightly. My fingers were sweating against the
leather. I gave in to the desire to take my breasts in
hand and squeeze and pinch myself, shuddering at the
resulting wave of pleasure. To my hands it was like I was
touching someone else's skin, to my breasts it was like a
wonderful soft animal was carressing me.

I felt myself all over with my white hands, even holding
open my pussy to stroke my clit. I sat back and played
with my breasts for a long, long time, letting the
carresses and pinches and pulls make some visceral
connection with my cunt. I went back over all the sex I
had heard or talked or thought about that day. I imagined
Sally, chocolate brown all over except for her snow white
hands, pulling at the chocolate brown cock of her
husband. The contrast between the white and dark skin
excited me, and I imagined that as he got more and more
aroused by her stroking, he got darker and darker in her
hand, until the moment his snow white come shot out of
him. I thought about that over and over, and Sally on the
lavatory seat, her snow white hands between her chocolate
thighs teasing her open pussy over and over til she comes
silently, or nearly so.

Finally I gave in to my desire to touch my pussy and clit
directly. I took off one of the gloves and tucked it
under me, just where the space was between my ass and my
pussy. I licked my fingers to explore my cunt, all its
spaces and curves and crevices, to make them all wet, to
find inside them the deep pleasure of my womanhood. My
other hand stayed gloved, at my breast, creeping across
to the other occasionally. I teased myself farther and
farther into the state of ecstacy, convulsing finally
over the image of a dark cock suspended over me, spewing
endless gobs of shockingly white come all over me.

I pulled the glove off and put the pair on the dresser. I
blew out the candle and climbed back in bed, and fell
asleep on my side, holding the big pillow in my arms,
another between my knees, a little one under my head.

Well, it's been a long letter, maybe because like I said,
David is away. Again, maybe because I'm alone right now I
feel the need to say I love you dearly.

Hugs and kisses from Brooklyn,

dd

Sisters Ng: Hands On, by Deidre Ng

"You know, you've never made me come in your hand."

"I can fix that."

I sat on our bed and he stood in front of me, between my
legs. I could smell myself, the smell of excitement
rising from my pussy. His cock bobbed in front of me,
stiff and eager. I fought the urge to kneel, to slip off
the bed onto the floor and take him in my mouth. The urge
to run my hands up the back of his thighs, over his
buttocks, while I kissed around his groin. The urge to
plant kisses along his shaft from base to head, to play
with him, wetting him, before taking him, swallowing him
whole.

How long had it been since I gave a guy a hand job? I did
it so often in high school. I remember the first time my
boyfriend (of the time) opened his pants. We had been
kissing, deep passionate sloppy kissing. He had reached
into my shirt to squeeze my breasts through the padding
of my bra. That night I took the step of unhooking the
clasp and letting his hand slip the sweaty cup off my
breast and feel me directly.

As his hand found the hard, tingling mountain of my
nipple I gasped. Suddenly I had to have my hand similarly
occupied with his flesh. I wanted to explore by feel the
contours of his erection, just as he was exploring the
surface of my breast, tracing the transition from smooth
taut skin to rougher aureole, from rough aureole to stiff
nipple. I wanted what I knew was straining for release
behind his zipper. I wanted my hand to experience what I
had only seen in pictures, the veined shaft, the smooth
space below the head, the bulge of the head itself. I
wanted to cradle his cock head and feel it's blood
warmth.

He gave my nipple a tentative pinch between his thumb and
forefinger. I slipped one arm from around his neck and
let my hand fall against his pants. I ran the back of my
fingers along the bulge that his erection made in his
jeans, that was all the prodding he needed. We broke our
embrace as he unbuckled and unzipped himself. I pulled
off my shirt and bra. He stopped to admire my breasts for
the first time before pulling his underwear down and
freeing his cock. I shivered from the sudden coolth on my
skin mixing with the warmth and ache in my pussy. He
responded by gathering me into his arms again.

I resisted. I wanted to look at him. I reached down and
pulled at the elastic band of his underwear. His cock
swung completely free.

Starting in about the fourth grade, the girls in my
school began sharing rumors about boys, and what they had
in their pants, and what they wanted to do with it, to
you. "Don't you know, it's huge! And they want to put it
into that little hole that's behind where your pee comes
out, there's no way it fits. And after they push it all
the way in and you feel like your gonna break in two
'cause it's all the way inside you then it shoots all
this milky stuff inside you. And that's what babies come
from." This nugget of information was passed around the
school yard, causing squeals of terror and revulsion by
myself and my classmates. But whenever we told it over to
each other, there was always a certain breathless
excitement to the teller's delivery that belied the
shared reaction. These tales always made us blush, but
not the blush of embarrassment.

I would lay awake at night and think about what "all the
way inside you" meant. Meditating on this mantra, I would
pull up my nightshirt and trace the naked lips of my
pussy under my covers. Into this hole, where my finger
barely fit? I probed there. It was damp inside there, and
tight around the tip of my finger. If I held the tip of
my finger inside and thought about "all the way inside
you" it got tighter all of a sudden and a little shiver
went up my spine.

There was this other place inside my pussy that I found
then, because it tingled when I did these things. It was
a kind of buried itch. I used to rub myself outside my
pussy to calm that itch, but when I started to explore
that damp hole I discovered that my dampened finger,
rubbed between my lips, made the itchy place feel so much
better. It made my whole pelvic area feel warm.

It all came back to me when I saw his cock swing free. I
wrapped my hand around the base of it. He reached for my
breasts again and we resumed kissing. He fondled me as we
kissed, and my hand crept slowly up the length of his
cock. Finally, I had his cock head cradled lightly in my
hand. I could feel the sweat on my hand. He squeezed my
breast and I responded by squeezing his cock. We began
trading squeezes. His fingers found my nipple and stroked
it. My hand curled around his cock till my thumb lay in
the cleft of his cock head. I found a dot of fluid there.
I wiped it onto my thumb. He pulled at my nipple and
nibbled my lip. I wiped the fluid down his cock. He
pulled at my nipple again. I rubbed the wet streak of
skin.

He was breathing heavily into my mouth. He pulled, I
rubbed. He pulled, I rubbed. Suddenly, he grunted and I
felt his come spilling onto my hand. I was afraid I had
hurt him somehow. I looked down, my hand frozen, watching
the white come ooze out of him. We both said, "I'm sorry"
at once, and then giggled at our shared unease. His come
was sliding off my wrist into the hair of his balls. With
my other hand I unclasped my pocketbook and reached for
the tissues my mother insisted I always carry. Together
we cleaned up his come.

That night I lay in bed after I was dropped off. I kept
smelling the back of my hand as it traveled between my
pussy and my mouth. Finally, I switched hands and put the
one that was marked with the smell of his come over my
nose while I stroked my clit with the other, till the
thought of him all the way inside, spilling that odd
smelling stuff into me, made me convulse.

Over the course of several boyfriends, I learned how to
lubricate my hand, and when to make a ring of my thumb
and forefinger to slip the head through. How to catch the
come as it spurted out and use it as a lubricant itself.
How to finger myself to sleep with one hand cupped over
my nose to recall the smell of their come. When I was
very familiar with how it smelled and what it felt like
in my hand, I began to take the first steps beyond hand
sex.

One night I jerked off my boyfriend. It had become
routine for me. I always followed my mother's rule about
tissues. I gave some to my boyfriend, who dabbed away at
the base of his cock. I had a glob of his come caught in
the depression that can form between thumb and
forefinger. I turned away from him, holding my hand so as
to not let the come spill. I pretended to reach for a
tissue, because I didn't want him to suspect the truth of
what I had screwed up the courage to do.

First I brought the come under my nose and sniffed. It
was the smell I learned to expect, but stronger, fresher.
Before my resolve could dissipate, I raised my hand to my
lips and wiped the come across them. I could still turn
back, wipe my lips with a tissue and retreat into
girlhood for a little while longer. My lips parted and I
inhaled. The smell again, and with it, courage. My tongue
flicked out, circling, tasting, collecting to be savored
and, yes, swallowed, the come I had wiped there.

I tasted more and more come in that surreptitious way.
One night there weren't enough tissues, and I made a big
impression on my new boyfriend by calmly licking his come
off my hand. After that my mouth was always closer and
closer at hand when he came, until the night I short
circuited the transfer of my saliva from my mouth to my
hand to his cock by applying it directly with my tongue.
I brought him off with my hand, and licked his come off
my lips. Shortly thereafter, I was taking his cock in my
mouth from exhilarating start to intoxicating finish.

Crossing that threshold seemed to close the door on the
era of the hand job, as much as open the era of the blow
job. Once I was comfortable with cocksucking, neither I
nor my boyfriends were satisfied with a mere hand job.

I can only remember once in college, sitting in Lover's
Lane, the last row of seats in a cavernous lecture hall,
so high up you needed lift tickets to sit there. The hall
dimmed for the presentation of slides, and there was no
room to kneel, so I pulled slowly on his cock as the art
of the Hudson River School flashed past on the screen.

Back in the present, I wet his cock with saliva pooled in
my palm. I thought about how easily it would slide into
me, slick like that. I often got him slick with my spit
applied by hand, before he entered me. Now I just had to
remember all the old lessons that I used only
occasionally now, like when I needed a breather during a
blow job.

I looked up at his face. He was smiling dreamily,
enjoying my warm liquid massage of his cock flesh. I
looked down at his cock, sliding in and out of view,
splendidly hot and stiff.

"I know you love me. I love you. I love to make you come.
I love your come inside me, when I'm tight and slippery.
I can feel your cock getting bigger, the head getting
bigger and hotter right before you come. I love that
feeling.

I love feeling you come in my mouth. I love feeling your
come splash against my lips and then I open them and lick
it off and take you in my mouth again and suck the last
of it out of you. I love it when you come really messy-
like, and it goes all over my cheeks, and I feel little
hot drips running down my neck and between my breasts
while I suck you till your soft in my mouth.

I love it when a big glob of come lands on my chest and I
wipe it up with my finger and lick it clean. I love
wetting my nipple with it and making myself excited,
smearing it around on my nipple, knowing you're watching
me, feeling you get hard again in my mouth from watching
me."

Talking so much about his come was getting us both very
excited. He shifted his stance, spreading his legs and
pushing his hips forward. His cock was just outside my
pussy. He had fucked me many times in a position like
this, standing at the bedside while I lay with my pussy
just at the edge of the bed.

I leaned back, propped up on one arm. Through my own
spread legs I held him so that the head of his cock just
grazed my pussy lips.

"You're gonna come all over my pussy. That hot white come
is gonna splash onto me, between my lips. Right on my
clit. You're gonna make me come, just by coming on me."

I lay down completely. With the hand that wasn't wrapped
around his cock, I spread my pussy lips. I held him so 
that the cleft in his cock head formed wet slick walls
for my clit to rub against. Like intercourse in
miniature, with the roles reversed. Pulling on his shaft,
his head rubbed back and forth over my clit.

With a bit of self control and a lot of experience of
each others bodies and rhythms, we teetered on the edge
of coming together. With one last bath of saliva covering
him, I looked down at his cock head sliding puffy red and
purple against my pussy lips, butting against my clit.

"Come on me, please, spill it on to me. I can feel it in
your cock. I..."

He was coming on me and the white wave of come filled the
narrow end of my pussy and spilled out over my lips. His
cock shuddered against me as I pulled on him. A shot of
his come engulfed my clit and I was over the edge myself,
coming as my clit throbbed against his cock in a bath of
his come.

I lay back, happy. He was wiping his cock against the
walls of my pussy, not really penetrating me, but not
wanting to pull away. His come got all runny and crept
down the sides of my pussy. Just like that old boyfriend,
he started to get hard again when I started licking up
the come he had spilled on me.

I looked at him between licks.

"Happy?"

"I knew you had it in you."

"Now I have it on me."

"Touche."

"That, too. Are you planning on fucking me with that?"

His semi hard cock slipped into me. I sighed.

"Yes."

One last lick to spread my lips so that he could really
get inside me, then I put my arms over my head and let
him take me. The phrase "all the way inside me" bounced
around inside my head. I held my fingers under my nose,
inhaled his smell and let the memories take me, too.

Written tongue in ...!

Celestial Previews #1 - Christmas Special

Maybe I've been a little naughty this year, but only in
the cause of being nice. So I'm sure Santa will fill up
my stocking (fishnet) with all sorts of goodies. But just
in case he's not a big reader of a.s.s. the following is
my wish list of stories I want to see posted. Of course
my biggest wish is that they all be correctly spelled and
properly punctuated.

"We Love You Sailor, Moon!" by TuxedoMan (anime parody,
bondage) 6

"Silly Leads To Trouble" by Testostragon (cross dressing)
8

"Kinko's" by deirduh (sex at Kinko's) 10

"Soo's 29th: Christmas Is Coming!" by Soo (mistletoe with
a twist) 10

"Olympic Roommates" by AnDy (perfect strangers make
perfect lovers) 2

"Sisters Ng: FuckNg" by Tammi Ng (fucking) 10

"Backrub With The Vampire" by Bckrb (vampires, massage,
romance) 8

"We Love You Sailor, Moon!" by TuxedoMan
(TuxedoMan@loa.com) Don't you just hate parodies? I know
I do, especially sophomoric, self referential ones. If
the writer has a good idea, she should take the time to
make it even better by developing her own setting. Too
much parody and pastiche relies on in-jokes and
background the reader is supposed to already know, so it
fails to entertain the majority of readers. After I read
this story I had to whip my husband's naked ass
repeatedly before I felt better. The plot, such as there
is: TuxedoMan is a magician who does kids' birthday
parties. His current job is a Sailor Moon themed event,
with all the girls dressed as different Sailors. The
birthday girl is, of course, Sailor Moon. All the cute
little girls in uniform really turn on TuxedoMan, who
stays at the party after his show is over, pretending to
'capture' each Sailor in turn. Finally the party is over,
the guests pile into the mom's van to go home, and
TuxedoMan volunteers to help clean up. He's left alone in
the house with Sailor Moon. Memorable dialogue: "But
TuxedoMan, you never captured _me_! " Sailor Moon soon
discovers that the handcuffs are real.

Now at this point I thought, gee, pedophilic bondage
scene #35 coming up. I failed to anticipate the anime
side of the story, not being keen on Sailor Moon myself.
With her skirt up and her panties around her ankles, her
naked ass a moment away from the first lick of
TuxedoMan's cane, our little heroine cries out in
desperation the transforming words of Sailor Moon, AND
THEY WORK!

But, this being a sex story, instead of marching
TuxedoMan down to the precinct house our heroine decides
that now that she has the upper hand, the proper thing to
do is make TuxedoMan eat her hairless, virgin pussy. Go
figure. A well punctuated story. (Rating: 6)

"Silly Leads To Trouble" by Testostragon
(an365608@anon.penet.if). A young boy has a secret
hankering to dress up in his sister's clothes. He
masturbates with her bra. He secretly retrieves her old
school uniform from the family garage sale. One day he
decides to play hooky from his oppressive, all boys
private school and sneak into his sisters all girls
private school, wearing her old uniform. Unfortunately
for him, Phys Ed is second period. The girls discover the
truth about their new friend. This being a Testostragon
story, you know that the boy will be initiated into the
right way of thinking about the proper relationship of
boys and girls (All Boys Are Toys) through pain and
humiliation, even more so because of his hubris of trying
to pass for one of the Masters. I like these stories, in
spite of the ridiculous philosophical ranting, perhaps
because they are so well punctuated. (Rating: 8)

"Kinko's" by deirduh (an365608@anon.penet.if). I've said
so repeatedly that deirduh is the Sherwood Anderson of
a.s.s., that she is Sherwood Anderson reincarnated, etc.
that you must be absolutely bored to tears by that
characterization and grit your teeth whenever I review
another fourteen stories in a row by this prolific
author, who is beyond any doubt an avatar of Sherwood
Anderson. It's easy to a write a review of a deirduh
story that's longer than the original story. To avoid
this problem, I will simply reprint the entire story in
this space:

Disclaimer: my stories, like the private sex fantasies of
many people, often depict "breaking some rules". Do not
read this story if you would rather take a cold shower.

Kinko's

by deirduh

I really like my new job as night shift manager at
Kinko's. Lots of free time to read, not too many
customers, but those that do come in are usually rush
jobs, important work for their businesses, etc.

About 11:30 this woman came in, a real knockout blonde.
She said she needed this whole book printed, ten copies,
bound. I could hardly take my eyes off her as I queued up
the job on our big Kodak machine, long legs, short skirt.
Once the job started I tried to make small talk with her.
I told her the job would take a while, did she want to
take a seat and talk. She barely noticed me, just stared
at the pages shooting through the Kodak's feeder, hitting
the platen, the bloom of light as they were imaged. She
seemed impatient, and a couple of times she clamped her
legs together, squirmed and bit her lip, like she needed
to relieve herself.

About halfway through the job she suddenly shouted at me.

"Stop the job!"

I hit the interrupt and the pages stopped their flight
through the innards of the machine. I turned to ask her
what was wrong when I saw her lift the feeder off the
glass platen.

"Hey, customers aren't allowed...,"

I couldn't finish my sentence because my jaw was hanging
open. She had hopped up onto the Kodak. She lifted her
skirt, she had no panties on! She sat down bare assed on
the glass.

"Oh God Yes!" She sounded enraptured. I knew the glass
must be hot.

"Quick, a hundred copies!"

I jumped at the tone of command and urgency in her voice.
My shaking fingers punched the keypad. As the big copier
hummed to life she spread her legs and rolled her hips
forward. The motion must have pressed her cunt against
the hot glass. She squealed and tipped her head back and
began to fondle her ample breasts through her clothing.

Then the imaging light began to flash, every half a
second. She grunted as it illuminated her cunt and ass
and legs. She twisted and writhed as the light shot weird
shadows up around her face. Around copy 75 she started
coming, bending over and groaning so loudly I could hear
her passion over the roar of the machine. She twitched
and shuddered until the run ended, then she slid off the
machine and collapsed on the floor.

I looked at the glass. It was covered with her pussy
juice.

"Hey, are you OK?" I tried to help her stand but she
couldn't. She sat up and leaned against the copier. I sat
down on the floor across from her, concerned and aroused.
She lifted her legs and rested her arms on her knees. She
seemed unconcerned that doing so slid her skirt down to
her waist and gave me a view of her pussy. She started
talking.

"I always liked having my picture taken. When I grew up I
knew I wanted to be a model. I always felt warm and
aroused after a shoot. One day I did a nude job. It was a
revelation. Every time the flash went off, this surge
went through me. I wasn't planning on doing any pussy
shots, but I couldn't stop myself. The light flooding my
pussy, the instant of heat on my skin, it put me in
another world. I tried using a flash on myself at home,
but nothing compares to this. I fantasized about coming
here, having this huge machine pouring light up between
my legs. And the heat of the glass...I just went out of
control when I felt it on my asshole."

I showed her how to do single copies. The glass was
almost cool when I put my ass on it, feeling the tacky
remnants of her juice under my balls. She had one hand on
my stiff cock and one finger on the Start button. She got
me wet in her mouth and slowly jacked me off, firing off
a copy every second or so. When I was close to coming she
slipped me into her mouth one last time, hit 50 and
Start, and slid her wet hand up and down my cock as the
Kodak warmed my balls. Faster and faster, and then my
milky white come was spilling over her fingers onto the
glass.

As soon as I was done ejaculating she practically pulled
me down off the machine by my cock. In a second she was
up on it, grinding her pussy against the glass, smearing
my come into her cunt. I punched in 250 and Start.

Whew! (Rating: 10)

"Soo's 29th: Christmas Is Coming!" by Soo (SooNH@aol.com)
Soo goes to a crafts fair, and meets a handsome, ruggedly
built whittler. They talk as she marvels at his artistic
flair for wood carving. As they talk his hands work
unconsciously on a piece of soft pine. Suddenly they both
notice the erect cock taking shape under his knifeblade.
Later she visits his workshop and gets to try out the
finished piece herself, as well as the carver. She takes
the wooden cock home and ties it up with some mistletoe
for her Christmas party. All the guests enjoy a fuck
under the mistletoe as the snow falls outside. Another
winner from Soo, who rarely fails to find a way to
enliven very pedestrian sex scenes with lots of scene
setting. A well punctuated story. (Rating: 10)


"Olympic Roommates" by AnDy (AnDy@aol.com) Egregious
grammar and spelling mistakes do nothing to enhance the
pleasure of reading drivel about people thrown together
in Atlanta as roommates during the '96 Olympics. Sadly,
very typical of AnDy, who apparently does not own, or
forgets to use, a spellchecker. One hopes her attitude
towards contraception is more mature. (Rating: 2)

"Sisters Ng: FuckNg" by Tammi Ng (DeidruhNg@aol.com)
Tammi catalogs her favorite fucks in the context of a
chatty letter to her sister. I took this story to bed
with my husband and we tried several of Tammi's
favorites, they turned out to be ours as well. A well
punctuated story. (Rating: 10)

"Backrub With The Vampire" by Bckrb (Bckrb@aol.com) Bckrb
combines two elements that worked well for him in the
past, massage and the hot little vampire Amanda in an
interesting story. Amanda stalks an Upper West Side house
party. A guy walks up to her and says she looks tense. He
offers her a backrub, saying he is a chiropractor. She
sits on his knees and he goes to work, it feels really
great. All of a sudden the lights go out. All the other
guests run around, bumping into things, trying to find
out what happened, while the chiropractor slips his hands
around Amanda's boobs. They eventually fuck on the chair
in the dark in the middle of a roomful of people. Bckrb
offers the reader two endings: one in which Amanda's
vampire habits take over, one where they don't. This is a
cop out, but the story is well punctuated. (Rating: 8)

Dilbert : The Dongbert Zone, by Deidre Ng with apologies
to Scott Adams

Strip 1: Dilbert sitting in his chair, legs up, talking
to Dogbert, who is sitting on his knees.

Panel 1:

Dilbert: Thank goodness the weekend is here. I really
need to unwind from my job.

Panel 2:

Dogbert: What's the difference? You always go to bed at
9:30.

Panel 3:

Dilbert: What are you talking about! My weekends are full
of excitement! I stay up way later than that!

Panel 4:

Dogbert: That's right, I forgot that you clip your
toenails. 9:40.

Strip 2: Sunday night. Dilbert in bed.

Panel 1:

Dilbert (thinking): Damn! Another whole weekend gone by,
and nothing to show for it.

Panel 2:

Dogbert(from side of bed): Perhaps you should wonk off.

Panel 3:

Dilbert: Thank you, Dr. Ruth.

Panel 4:

Dogbert: Just pick up the tissues, ok? They upset the
cleaning lady.

Strip 3: Dilbert in bed. His erection makes a tent of the
sheets.

Panel 1:

Dilbert: Wonk off. People think I am a wonk.

Panel 2:

Dilbert: What if I didn't?

Panel 3:

Dogbert: You'd explode. And don't think about me.

Panel 4:

Dilbert(thinking): As if. Never live with a dog that can
read your mind.

Dogbert: I heard that.

Strip 4: Overnight, Dilbert's pent up frustration works
an amazing transformation on him, of which he is at first
unaware.

Dongbert looks like a Dilbert sized erection wearing
glasses and a pocket protector.

Panel 1:

Dongbert: I couldn't sleep a wink last night.

Panel 2: Stepping into bathroom.

Dongbert: Maybe that's why I feel so stiff.

Panel 3:

(looking in mirror)

Panel 4:

Dongbert: Then again, maybe not.

Strip 5: In Dilbert's cubicle.

Panel 1:

Dongbert: I got to work without attracting attention.

Panel 2:

Dongbert: Now if I can just avoid leaving my cubicle...

Panel 3:

(from over the partition): STAFF MEETING, FIVE MINUTES!

Panel 4:

Dongbert: Five minutes to live.

Strip 6: Dongbert, sitting alone at the conference table.

Panel 1:

Dongbert(thinking): I'll tough it out. Maybe noone will
notice.

Panel 2:

Wally enters. He has also been transformed.

Panel 3:

Dongbert: W-Wally, you're...

Panel 4:

Wally: Stubby and uncircumcised. Don't rub it in.

Strip 7 (Sunday Strip): Dongbert and Wally have been
joined at the conference table by Alice and their boss.

Alice has been transformed into Cuntbert, a heavy lipped
pussy with big triangular hair.

The Boss has become Assbert, a puckered asshole, round
cheeks and his usual vertical hair.

Panel 1:

Assbert: Personnel Director Catbert has agreed to answer
staff questions about our health benefits.

Panel 2:

Wally: Does our policy cover adult circumcision?

Panel 3:

Catbert: Only when you convert to Judaism.

Panel 4:

(silence)

Panel 5:

Wally(whispering to Dongbert): Did you keep the yarmulke
from that bar mitzvah last year?

Strip 8:

Panel 1:

Assbert: Wally, I need to see you privately after the
staff meeting is over.

Wally: Does it involve stuffing my blunt but thick fuck
pole into your puckered ass?

Panel 2:

Assbert: Yes.

Wally: You'll have to utterly debase yourself, first.

Panel 3:

Dongbert: Ask him for a status report, with itemized
deliverables.

Panel 4:

Wally: Just what I had in mind.

Strip 9:

Panel 1:

Assbert: I can't stand it any more! Just do me now,
Wally! Right here on the carpet.

Panel 2:

Assbert and Wally drop under the table.

Panel 3:

Cuntbert looks at Dongbert.

Panel 4:

Dongbert(thinking): Please, please...

Strip 10:

Panel 1:

Catbert: Oh my gosh! A suprise visit by our esteemed CEO!

Panel 2: Dogbert enters. He has also been transformed,
into a fire plug with tail and glasses.

Plugbert(thinking): They assume of course that this my
new corporate power look.

Panel 3:

(Looking at Cuntbert and Dongbert)

Panel 4:

Plugbert(thinking): I see the fashion news travels fast
in this company.

Strip 11:

Panel 1:

Plugbert: I'm here to announce the beginning of
"Corporate Honesty Week".

Panel 2:

Assbert(From under the table): Please, Wally, slide it
between my cheeks!

Panel 3:

Wally(Also under the table) :Justify your expense report
first.

Panel 4:

Plugbert: As corporate initiatives go, this one seems to
be popular.

Strip 12:

Panel 1:

Plugbert(looking at Cuntbert): As part of our Corporate
Honesty Initiative, I invite you to spread your lips and
piss on your esteemed CEO.

Panel 2:

Dongbert(looking at Cuntbert): Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!

Panel 3:

Cuntbert(looking at Dongbert): The project schedule has
been advanced three weeks. Satisfied?

Panel 4: Dongbert head down on table.

Plugbert(from left): This won't be forgotten, come salary
reviews.

Strip 13:

Panel 1:

Dongbert(still head down on table): I can't believe it.
Passed over for the chance to piss on the boss.

Panel 2:

Catbert(standing on table): I take it this fantasy has
not gone the way you hoped.

Panel 3:

Dongbert: Fantasy? You mean I'm not really a big dick?

Panel 4:

Catbert: I didn't say that.

Strip 14 (Sunday Strip):

Panel 1:

Dilbert: Hey, I'm back to normal.

Panel 2:

Catbert: That's a relative statement.

Panel 3:

Dilbert: How come you never changed through all of this?

Panel 4:

Catbert: Your fantasy saw everyone expressed as they
desired to be.

Panel 5:

Catbert: Since cats are already the highest form of life,
we have no desire to be anything but ourselves.

Panel 6:

Catbert: Besides, I know better than to put psychoactive
drugs in my own milk dish.

Strip 15:

Panel 1:

Dilbert: You mean you put a drug in the drinking water
that made us all transform?

Catbert: It was my duty as head of Personnel.

Panel 2:

Dilbert: Aren't these things usually tested on rats?

Catbert: Of course. Ratbert, will you come in here?

Panel 3: Ratbert enters. He looks exactly like Catbert.

Panel 4:

Catbert: We needed to see if everyone had such lofty
goals.

Strip 16: Back at home. Dilbert is again sitting in his
chair, talking to Dogbert.

Panel 1:

Dilbert: So Catbert was to blame for the whole thing.

Panel 2:

Dogbert: Do you feel ashamed that everyone knows your
secret fantasy?

Panel 3:

Dilbert: No, we all agreed never to talk about it. No one
will ever know.

Panel 4: Dogbert leaves.

Dogbert(from left): Great. Don't read alt.sex.stories for
a while, will ya?

Sisters Ng: Tammy's Game, by Tammy Ng

Men in general, but my boyfriend in particular, have a
problem. They spend way too much time playing video
games. Something usually suffers as a result, for
instance the laundry or your sex life. This comes about
not just because of the time spent on one pursuit that
could be spent on another. There is also the problem of
the message of most popular video games, which seems to
be violent action, endlessly repeated.

Now far be it from me to talk about the weather and not
do anything about it. After no small amount of rumination
I have decided to advance my own proposal for a video
game, on the theory that it's best to meet the opposition
half way. I welcome any inquiries from software
manufacturers that would like to license my design.

My game has the working title "Make Me Come." Quite
obviously, the game is of a sexual nature. The object,
and the subject, of the game is Tammy Ng, masturbating to
orgasm. The first of my innovations is that the player
scores the most points by taking the _longest_ time
possible to make me utter that little squeal of helpless
surrender.

I think this point alone will make the game successful.
Women might actually go out and buy this game for their
lovers, putting aside their discomfort at having their
man stare at a beautiful Chinese girl for hours on end,
when the benefit is that this guy will be learning how to
tease the breath out of them in bed. I've surveyed
several women who agree that if men could somehow be
taught that sex was not a race to the finish line, the
world would be a better place. In this game, it is not
death, but orgasm that is inevitable, and staving off the
inevitable takes on a wonderful, rewarding value.

I have in mind a very unusual user interface. Most of the
screen is a picture of me, alone in my apartment.
Initially, I'm sitting in a big chair watching TV, fully
dressed in a short skirt and top. Next to my chair is a
floor lamp and a little table. The perspective of the
player is from a little above the TV, looking towards me.
I think the artwork should be like a charcoal sketch,
evocative, but not overly concerned with realism or
detail. The sounds should be my pulse, my breathing, the
rustling of my clothes, the white noises of skin on skin,
the scratching of nails through pubic hair, the liquid
sounds of my mouth and pussy.

At first I thought that the player should just be given
control of my body. I would be like a puppet that the
player manipulated. Click on my thigh, and hook my leg
over the arm of the chair. The skirt slides upwards and
my panties come into view. Click my hand and drag it
downwards between my legs. The player is rewarded with a
little catch in my breath and an increase in my pulse.
Click on my middle finger and begin to rub the pale strip
of cloth that hides my pussy and wait for my sigh.

With this interface certain actions that would be hard
for the player to accomplish with one point control could
be handled with transitional animations (if I've been
aroused enough by the players choices). Things like
pulling the top over my head to bare my breasts, or
slipping the panties off, and letting them drop on the
floor might be handled this way.

Once the player has my top off and my panties down around
my ankles, it's pretty easy to figure out what to do.
Don't make me pick my nose, or use the remote control as
a dildo, just keep up the contact between my hands and
the rest of my body in various wonderful ways. Bonus
points for making me wet my fingers at certain critical
points.

There might be an interruption. The phone might ring.
Ignore it or answer it? It might depend on how undressed
I am, how deep my finger is inside me. It might be Mom,
in which case you might as well reboot the machine. It
might be Deidre, and I can get in two or three orgasms
before she realizes that I'm not grunting at all the
right places in the conversation. It might be my
boyfriend and you can score double points for desperate
phone sex orgasms.

As a digression, all of these things have happened in
real life, except that when I was talking to Deidre I was
getting fucked. And once I was expecting John (my
boyfriend) to call and I got myself all in a lather and
the phone rang. I picked it up and it was just the right
moment and I said, "Oh baby, oh fuck me o ffu-," and then
I was coming really hard and very noisily, too. It was a
telemarketing salesrep from Nebraska Steaks By Mail. I
think it was the high point of his career.

Like I said, my first design. With a few embellishments,
like a bonus level of me playing with a real slippery
dildo, and I'm sure it would be a million seller. But I
thought about it for a while, and decided that it wasn't
enough. After a while, there was just not enough
challenge. The player could learn how to pace my level of
excitement, how to make me luxuriate on a plateau by
switching away from direct stimulation of my clitoris to
something more indirect, such as massaging my breasts, or
running my finger along the inside of my thigh. But I was
tempting the player into a repetitive stress injury, and
reinforcing the importance of the physical at the expense
of a more holistic approach.

So I rethought the interface. In my new design, the
player does not have direct control over my actions.
Instead, the player is cast in the role of the filter
between my subconscious and my conscious thinking,
suggesting thoughts for me to think. On the screen will
be a little area that corresponds to the three or four
thoughts that a bouncing around in my head at any one
time. On the screen they look like short loops of
animation, playing over and over again. I think this
situation is pretty normal, unless I'm concentrating on
something like practicing a piece of music or very aware
of how electric my finger is as it glides across the
throbbing head of my clit.

The player is in control of a pool of thoughts that can
be promoted to consciousness when one of the thoughts in
the currently conscious group goes away. All the player
has to do is drag a thought out of the subconscious area
and drop it into the conscious area. The pool of
possibilities changes as the group of conscious thoughts
change. For instance I might start out in the chair with
my head filled the thoughts:

Change Channel

Beer Commercial

Laugh Track

Bang, Bang, Scream

>From that situation, it wouldn't be possible for the
player to suggest Remove Panties as a thought, it's just
too much of a leap. But Change Channel would be
available, and Turn TV Off might be. So the player has to
nudge me in the direction of choice by suggesting
thoughts that will get me to turn the TV off, stretch,
think about nice things, think about kissing, hug myself,
etc. As the scene becomes more sexually charged, the
players choices fill up with a mix of the images and
actions that turn me on.

One of the things I like about this is that it becomes
possible for the player to push me over into orgasm by
changing the image I'm holding in mind at the time. For
instance, Sucking Him might be a loop of images showing
my lips sliding down a cock that fills my mouth. Changing
over to Coming In My Mouth, which shows me lapping up the
white cream spilling from the head of a beautiful stiff
cock and some of it smearing across my cheek, usually
puts me over the edge, not the action of rubbing my clit
as quickly as I can.

The wonderful part is that everything the player learns
about turning on the virtual Tammy is applicable to the
real world woman they've been having so many problems
relating to! The player learns from the inside what turns
me on, and is rewarded with a peek at my very private way
of pleasuring myself. He promotes the fantasy thought
Kisses Along My Thigh and watches me stoke the soft skin
of my out-turned leg. What blockhead could miss the
message that maybe they should try this the next time
they find themselves with their head between the legs of
their partner.

I'd love it if this became a real game. I'd play it
myself. I'd like to play the version where the player has
to manage the thoughts of two people, and they've both
had a hard day, and it's not enough to let them get off
separately, you have to get them in bed together and
soothe the others tensions and get them out of their self
centered moods so they can make really earth moving love
to each other. Now, that would be a game that really
could change the world.

Sisters Ng: TNT: Tammy's Naughty Twin! by Tammy Ng

Synopsis:

Tammy approaches Kirby Gill, local high school
genius/dork, for math help. He has a crush on the petite
Chinese girl and is always ready to help her out. His
price is the chance to spend time with her. Since the
only place he feels truly comfortable is his garage lab,
Tammy usually gets dragged out there to see whatever
loony experiment Kirby has cooked up.

This time its a teleporter. Unfortunately, like the rest
of Kirby's inventions, it doesn't work. He tried it on an
apple yesterday, and the apple didn't move. It should
have disappeared and reappeared in the chamber across the
room. Kirby wheedles Tammy into standing on the
teleporter plate. It's this or kiss him good-bye, Tammy
thinks, so she goes along. Maybe I can get just her
clothes to teleport, Kirby thinks.

He throws the switch and nothing appears to happen to
Tammy, until a second Tammy walks out of the reception
chamber holding an apple! They soon decide that Kirby has
created a duplicator by mistake. Kirby is overjoyed - two
Tammys! The two Tammys put their heads together,
excitedly scheming how to take advantage of the
situation. Suddenly the duplicate apple vanishes in a
spectacular explosion. Apparently the duplicates last for
only twenty four hours. Kirby suggests that the duplicate
Tammy stay with him until she disappears, a suggestion
she finds quite distasteful. What to do? The two Tammys
eye each other distrustfuly, they know each other too
well to know any good will come of this.

Tammy decides to risk taking her new twin home with her.
They argue outside the Ng home, and the duplicate makes
it clear that she plans on enjoying her alloted time.
After all, she doesn't have to worry about any
consequences. Kiss your virginity goodbye, she tells her
duplicate. Tammy tells the twin to wait outside til
everyone inside has gone to bed, then she'll sneak her
in. While she's waiting, the boyfriend of Tammy's older
sister Deidre drives up. Tammy 2 decides to seduce him.
He thinks its just playful Tammy, the kid sister.
Suprise, suprise.

The resulting mayhem gets both Tammy and Deidre grounded.
After everything quiets down again, Tammy 1 sneaks Tammy
2 into the house and into the bedroom she shares with
Deidre. Where will she sleep? They both insist on taking
the bed. In bed T2 describes her antics with dd's
boyfriend. Both Tammys get worked up over it, T1 out of
envy and horniness, T2 out of interrupted lust. T2
suggests a way for them to relieve their tensions. "Go
fuck yourself!" says T1. "Exactly what I had in mind,"
says T2.

T1 wakes up late for school the next day, and alone in
the bed. Where is her double? Her mothers comment, I
thought you already left for school, is an ominous
warning of what lies in store for her. T1 grapples
throughout the day with the wreckage of the situations T2
creates. They play hide and seek, or is it seek and
destroy, through the halls of the high school. For T2,
every situation is the opportunity for some salacious
behavior, for T1, more evidence that her reputation will
never be the same.

After school, Mama Ng catches T2 and Deidre and drags
them home. Papa Ng catches T1 and drags her home, too. T2
frets and cries that her existence has been wasted
because she will disappear soon, and as unbelievable as
it may seem, she has not succeeded in losing her
virginity. But what about Kirby? If she stepped onto the
duplicator plate just before vanishing, she would have
another day to live! It would even be worth doing
anything Kirby asked, just for the chance. She sneaks out
to Kirby's house.

T1 is frantic. She's searched the house from top to
bottom and can't find T2. Where could she be? Putting
herself in T2's position she realises where T2 went. Now
she tries to sneak out but is caught by dd. Tearfully,
she tells dd whats been going on. She convinces her by
showing her the duplicate clothing from the day before.
They have to stop T2 before its too late.

At Kirby's house, T2 turns up the heat with the nerdy
genius. They go out to the garage for more privacy. The
minutes are slipping away, and Kirby, overcome by the
chance to fulfill his dreams with T2, is having trouble
getting out of his pants. T1 and dd arrive and catch a
nearly naked T2 and Kirby.

A battle royal ensues, with all of Kirby's weird gadgets
being used by the girls to attack and defend. Kirby
cowers in the corner, still trying to grab the naked T2.
T2 inches closer and closer to the activated duplicator.
As her last seconds slip away she lunges desperately for
the plate. With her last act she laughs triumphantly and
throws the switch to make a new Tammy, and then she
disappears like the apple did.

Tammy and dd rush to the receiving chamber as Kirby
emerges from the wreckage of his lab. Did T2 succeed?
Kirby comes up behind them as they look bewilderedly at
the empty chamber. He coughs and tells them that the
duplicator plate wasn't hooked up to the receiving
chamber, for debugging puposes he had reconnected the
scanning circuitry to his PC. They rush to the desk that
holds the computer. Sure enough there is the naked T2,
trapped in Kirby's screen saver. Tammy and dd leave Kirby
staring at the screen, probably for the next twenty four
hours, and head home.

Chapter 1 - An Apple A Day

I should never have gone to Kirby for math help. Sure
he's a genius and all, but somehow, something always goes
wrong when I'm in the same room as he is.

Tammy Ng and Backrub, Erotic Investigators

in

Hot on the Trail: Who in the World is Celeste802?

by

Backrub and Tammy Ng

November 27. It was a quiet night. Too quiet. Well, maybe
not so quiet. There was the sound of Tammy's hand sliding
up and down my handsomest feature, oiled and glistening.

"Backrub, why do these backrubs always turn into ass rubs
and then front rubs?"

"It helps me forget."

"Forget what?"

"I've forgotten."

I haven't forgotten. It's a woman, of course. The hardest
thing to forget.

I peered into the screen of my computer while Tammy
continued to study anatomy, up close and personal. She
paused to slide my cock back and forth over her breasts.

"Of course, I've got it!"

She paled. "Herpes?"

"No, the solution to the case we've been working on."

"Thank goodness."

Her hand started moving again. I shivered.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"The solution to the case!?"

"Sure. First, here's a tissue, there's still a little
spot on your cheek."

"Thanks."

"Here's what happened. Professor Plum used his lead pipe
on Miss Scarlet in the Conservatory, then whacked Mrs.
White with his candlestick in the Billiard Room.
Meanwhile, Colonel Mustard was shooting his pistol into
Mr. Green in the Ballroom. That left..."

"Mrs. Peacock!"

"... alone with the aptly named Mr. Peacock in the
Library."

"Amazing. To think she offed her own husband."

"Somewhat unusual in our sort of cases."

"I'll say. How did you think of the solution?"

"It just came to me."

I shivered again.

Our pleasant wrap-up of another successful case was
interrupted by a knock on the door.

Tammy jumped up from between my legs, licking her fingers
as she approached the door.

"Who could that be at this hour?"

"This month's rent. Let the mystery guest in, why don't
you?"

Tammy opened the door. The swinging door revealed a
primly dressed woman, a woman whose neat appearance
contrasted strongly with the stark fear on her face. She
staggered into our little office and collapsed into one
of the leather covered chairs facing my desk.

"You're a lady with a problem. One you don't know how to
solve."

She looked suddenly relieved.

"How did you know?"

"That's the only kind of woman that walks through my
door." Except for one, long ago.

Tammy sat down demurely in the other chair, having
quickly rebuttoned the front of her blouse. I continued
to steal glances at her legs as I spoke with our new
guest.

"What's your name, dear?" Tammy was about to offer her a
tissue, then thought better of it.

"Celeste801."

"That's kind of an unusual name..."

"I come from a large family."

"Oh."

"And what seems to be the problem?" I wanted it out in
the open right from the start, but didn't want to bother
unzipping again.

"I've been parodied!"

"This is serious. Tammy, start taking all this down."

Tammy dropped to the carpet between Celeste's legs.

"Of course it is, how can I show my face on a.s.s.
again?"

"Did you say how can you face your ass again? Have you
tried turning around and looking in a mirror?"

"No, not my own ass, a.s.s., alt.sex.stories. The Usenet
newsgroup devoted to wannafuck messages and spam.
Occasionally it becomes cluttered with erotic stories
that interfere with the enjoyment of the normal postings.
I try to give some guidance to the readership of the
group by telling them what is worthwhile reading. I've
toiled long hard hours, at least my husband is long and
hard, sweating over my reviews. Sometimes I have to read
and reread these stories to see whether their content
deserves reporting to my devoted following. Just a little
to the left, dear.

I try to be fair and objective. But..."

"It's the kind of business where you tend to make
enemies."

"Yes. The sloppy punctuators, the grammatically
incorrect, the fetishists. I suppose I'm really a
crusader at heart."

"Didn't you expect this someday?"

"Yes, and I tried to protect myself. I laced my reviews
with gentle humor and encouragement. Apparently it wasn't
enough."

"So, let's see this parody."

She handed me a two-page printout and Tammy walked over,
crawled into my lap, curled up in my arms and we began
reading together. Tammy ran her fingers along my arm and
I ran my open palm up and down her always-fashionable-
in-New-York black tight-encased thighs.

With Tammy's skirts, there's always lots of thigh to
caress. She paused, turned her head and kissed me on the
cheek, nuzzled her nose against my beard and then
continued reading along with me. I continued stroking my
favorite thighs.

Tammy snickered, then broke into a full laugh. I shook
with laughter beneath her causing my cock to rub against
her ass. She leaned into me a bit closer and continued
reading as my hand began to slide up her short skirt. My
thumb reached her...

"Ahem!"

"Oh, sorry. So just what's the problem here? What's wrong
with parody? Who would care about Regis Philbin if
Letterman wasn't constantly showing him up to be such a
dork? People make fun of celebrities all the time and
they 'cry all the way to the bank."


"Hugh Grant!"

"Gulp!", said Tammy.

"William Shatner."

"Oprah Winfrey."

"Arnold Schwartzenegger."

"You spelled that incorrectly, dear," chimed Celeste.

"But whoever it is, is funnier than I am!"

"Yeah, well whoever this is is funnier than we are, too.
Hell, this is funnier than Saturday Night Live has been
since at least 1985."

"That's not saying all that much," Tammy noted.

"What really gets me is that I have no idea who this is.
I see myself as a mother confessor to my writers and I
have no certain idea of who this is. I'm the curious type
and I think it's someone I know from my writers or
readers. Considering how well written this parody is and
the generally poor quality of writing talent on a.s.s., I
think it can only be one of two people: SooNH, or Deidre
Ng."

"My sister! My sister writes erotica on the internet! My
sister writes better than I do!"

I'd always wondered why, when we visited dd's apartment
in Brooklyn the computer chair always had a damp spot and
smelled like some one had been consumer testing vibrators
on it.

"So, this parody writer goes under the name 'Celeste802.'
We'll find her, or him, or whatever..."

Celeste unhooked her legs from the arms of the chair She
straightened her skirt and stuffed her panties into her
pocketbook.

"Here's my number. Please contact me when you solve the
case. I know you can help me. Oh, I'm so glad I came,
here!"

We walked down the street from our office to the Old
Towne Tavern for dinner, some beers and to think the case
through. After we settled down I excused myself and
headed off to splash some water on my face. As I walked
down the narrow back corridor my way was blocked by a
young woman: 5'6", thin but very athletic, short dark
hair, full lips and very strong legs made very visible by
a tight, mid-thigh cotton dress.

But it was her eyes that grabbed me, literally. I
couldn't avert my eyes for a minute. She locked onto me
and walked forward. I wondered if this is what deer felt
like when confronted by headlights.

She grabbed me by the front of my shirt and guided me
into a walk-in cloak room filled with winter coats. In
the back she pushed me against the wall, undid my pants,
wrapped her fingers around my cock and stroked until I
was hard, never letting her eyes leave mine. She rose and
kissed me, hard and passionately. I could feel a need in
her as she pressed against me.

Then she lifted her dress to reveal that she was not
wearing panties. She crawled up and over me until she
could impale herself on my cock. My legs locked and she
began fucking me, grinding herself against me, sliding up
and down my pole, licking and nibbling my neck and
pulsing with growing pleasure. I held her ass in my hands
and rubbed it as we moved her up and down my cock and her
pelvis ground itself hard against me. Her tongue licked
my neck and I felt a slight pinch. Suddenly I felt as if
I was being fucked twice. She started to come just as I
heard...

"Hey!!! Get your undead fangs out of my man!"

Tammy was standing beside us pushing a cheap crucifix
into the mystery woman's face. The mystery woman cursed,
mumbled something about the East Side, dismounted from me
and walked off in a huff.

"Will you pleeze stop thinking with your dick all the
goddam time? That was a vampire who was about to turn you
into her early dinner!"

"I'm not sure that..."

"Look, I know that almost nothing in 'New York' magazine
is true, but the rumors and gossip are important to our
work. Didn't you read the "Vampire Hangouts Between 14th
and 34th Streets" article I left in your inbox?"

"Um, no."

"Sometimes you are hopeless."

Then she paused and a familiar mischievous grin came
across her face.

"She didn't let you come, did she?"

"Well, you...."

I was interrupted by Tammy dropping to a squat in front
of me, her skirt now riding all the way up her thighs.
She took my cock and began sucking it.

"Now, who's cock is this?" she asked as she stroked it
and looked up at me.

"Yours..." She knows me far too well for this, or me, to
last very long.

"And who has the only pussy and mouth this cock is
allowed in unless it's absolutely necessary for work?"

"You do..." I was starting to tighten and shiver.

"And whose tongue are you going to come on right now..."

She looked up at me, her blouse open, her braless breasts
exposed, her tongue flat and wide and stretched out. She
ran it under the head of my cock and she stroked me. I
contorted in pleasure, snapped my head back and forced
myself to look as I spurted onto her sweet tongue and
into her mouth. She immediately engulfed my rod, slurping
loudly right through my orgasm and after shocks.
Afterward she rose, held me close, and kissed me so I
could taste my own saltiness.

"By the way, you never seemed religious. Where'd you get
the crucifix?"

"How soon they forget...don't you remember playing
'Catholic School Girl' the other night?"

I'd forgotten the details so we walked downtown to
Tammy's apartment, she changed into a plaid skirt and
white shirt and we spent the evening jogging my memory.

November 28.

We spent the day calling some old contacts and booking
travel arrangements. After dinner we took the subway to
Park Slope to pay an unannounced visit to Tammy's older
sister, Deidre Ng. Tammy had been distracted all day. She
looked the way I do when I know I have to go out and put
a bullet in someone I know. Tammy was concerned that
there was a part of her sister's life she hadn't known
about. Maybe there was a reason she was being so
secretive, other than being some oversexed intellectual.

As we made our way up the three flights to dd's Tammy
still had the determined look in her eyes. In one fluid
motion she slid her key into the first lock, then into
the second, then the third and the door opened. A cat
came running toward us, Tammy glared at it and the feline
made a 90 degree turn off behind a couch. I expected
there was some history there. Tammy gave me a look that
said, "Stay here," so I took off my battered trench coat
and took a seat in dd's kitchen as she moved toward dd's
closed bedroom door. She knew her business and her sister
so I sat back to listen. I heard the door open but not
slam shut again. I checked out the scotch sitting in a
shelf in the kitchen and kept an ear open.

"Hey!!!"

"Well, well, well..."

"Don't you believe...in calling, or knocking..or making a
reservation?!"

"Caught in flagrante delicious, eh dd?"

"Would...you...please...leave..."

"Not until I've asked you a few questions, dear sister."

"I can't concentrate...when you're standing
there...watching us..."

"Oh, you mean you can't...cummmm all over your
boyfriend's dick, riding it like that, when someone's
watching? Hey, studly, I'll bet you don't have any
problem staying hard at the thought of my watching, do
you, big boy. Bet you'd like me to join in. Dream on
hardstuff, but you'd like it even better from my
perspective. If dd were facing you instead of me you
could see her rubbing her clit while she rides your,
actually very nice-looking, cock."

"Tammy, of all the creepy things...you've..."

"So, you've been writing nasty stories for
alt.sex.stories?"

"Actually, it's a bit more than that...I've been...
publishing...our letters to each other."

dd's voice sounded like Tammy better finish the
interrogation soon.

"You published our letters!? About first blowjobs? About
my seducing that cute guy, finding out he was a virgin
and then sucking him in the school darkroom?!"

"Ye-e-e-s...could you please leave now and yell at me
later? I really want to cum now."

"Not so fast Little Miss Cumstories, what about
Celeste802? Who is it?"

"How should I...know? They only...published that one
take-off on 'Celestial Reviews'...and..."

"And what! Do I have your permission to search you hard
disk?"

"I don't care! Would you just get the hell out of here so
I can...finish..."

"Keep her for another fifteen minutes, studcakes. She
likes being eaten about five minutes after she comes."

Tammy reappeared in the kitchen.

"Tough job, Tammy. Can I smell your fingers?"

But we still had work to do. We moved to the living room
and with Deidre and her squeeze in the background
sounding like guests on Rikki Lake's "Couples Who Make
Way Too Much Noise During Sex" show, we searched dd's
hard drive. Celestial Reviews, the one Celeste802 piece,
but nothing else that matched. Tammy slid a disk into the
drive and copied everything containing her name and then
we left.

Later, back at my place we settled down to a couple of
scotches and hard copy of dd's collected works. This led
to my giving Tammy a backrub, which led to an assrub,
which led to a clit rub, which led to the next morning.

Saturday, November 30.

The next stop in our search for this electronic phantom.
The five-hour ride into New England was relatively
uneventful. An hour of driving. Then Tammy was squirming
in her seat. I grabbed the wheel while she pulled off her
tights and panties and slid a pillow under her ass. I
oiled my fingers and slowly massaged her pussy lips as
she drove. Her right foot on the accelerator, left leg
bent and spread with her bare foot resting on the seat, I
rubbed and fingered her pussy with one hand and rubbed
her bare thighs with my other.

Unbuttoning her blouse, I added tonguing her nipples
until she got close and I wanted to be able to watch her
come. I could feel her thighs starting to pulse and
shiver, neuromuscular conflict between her impending loss
of control and her maintaining control of the nerve
function between six or seven brain cells in the rational
and visual parts of her cortex and the muscles
controlling her foot on the accelerator, or if the need
arose, the brake. She kept her eyes on the road but kept
stealing fleeting glances at me, like a tease, knowing I
wanted the eye contact. She bit her lip as I quickened my
rubbing her clit, pulsed her back and came, squirming
against the seat and pressing her wet pussy against my
large soft hand. I moved closer to her, kissed her bare
shoulder and continued rubbing her bare thighs for many
minutes longer.

She reached into my lap, unzipped me and wrapped my
favorite fingers around my cock. I glanced at the clock
and reached for the FM radio buttons when the meaning of
Saturday 1:00 P.M. sunk in. I had an idea.

The familiar voices filled the car.

"Hello and welcome to 'Car Talk.' We're Click and Clack,
the Tappett Brothers, known to the IRS and local
teamsters as Tom and Ray Magliozzi. We're here to answer
your questions about cars, car maintenance, hair sprays
and the Answer to Life, the Universe and Everything.
Before establishing that my brother Tommy doesn't
remember last week's 'Puzzler,' let's get right to the
phones."

As the NPR philosopher-mechanics of the air began not
answering their first caller's question, I rummaged
around in Tammy's pack for the cell phone. I dialed the
number from memory. That's the thing about growing up in
the sixties, smoking pounds of pot, serving an
intelligence agency (sic) for six years and then coming
back to the States. I can't remember which drawer I keep
my socks in but I remember the call-in number for the NPR
station in Boston.

"Hello, you're on Car Talk."

"Hi, this is...um..her, what the hell, Backrub from New
York. Actually, we're on the Mass Pike right now heading
east."

"Backrub from New York? Do you know Shiatsu from San
Francisco?"

As the Brothers Magliozzi cracked up I began to wonder
whether this was such a good idea.

"So, what's your question, 'Rub?"

"Let's say you're driving east on the Mass 'pike
approaching Amherst, and you're with 'someone special'
and you're in a 1974 Saab 99, which is quite comfy..."

"The fuel injected model?"

"No carbureted."

"Good, the fuel injected model that year was horrible."

"Anyway, the special someone thinks its a comfy car but
also wants to find someplace where you can, er, be alone,
if you know what I mean. Anyplace in the area you would
suggest?"

"Whoa! This is a family show, even though the family may
be the Simpsons! You're going to ruin our image with a
question like that."

"That's not possible Tommy," laughed Ray.

"OK, just to get you out of here and us out of potential
trouble with the FCC...is there still an FCC or did Newt
defund them also? We haven't gotten any threatening
letters from them lately and..."

"Tommy! Don't rant! What my doddering brother is trying
to say is: Pull into any parking lot at UMass, they
couldn't care less what you do. But don't say we sent
you! And don't ride like my brother!" (Both laugh loudly,
bang on countertops)

Tammy swerved to make the exit ramp and within another
ten minutes we were parked under trees in a far corner of
a huge lot at the above-referenced campus. I was sitting
in the back seat. Tammy was straddling me, kissing me
over and over again softly and sweetly, but certainly not
chastely. She held my cock in her hand and gently
squeezed and rubbed it as she slid the head of my cock
back and forth over her pussy lips. Inserting no more
than the very tip, she used the silky soft but firm head
to massage her lips and clit. I could feel wetness and my
cockhead getting moist. She slid herself up and down my
cock and then, without warning, slid me inside in one
smooth motion. We both gasped and kissed deeply. I held
her ass in my hands as we fucked steadily grinding
ourselves against each other. I slid a finger into her
ass and she called out. She whispered into my ear, asking
me to empty my balls into her. She whimpered, said my
name over and over again and came hard against me. I
pushed up into her, held her very tight and came, looking
into her eyes and tasting her lips.

We pulled into the long gravel road leading to the
somewhat rustic house at around 3 P.M. The red Miata and
the Range Rover parked in front suggested that the woman
we sought was home. Before announcing ourselves, we
decided to check the place out a bit. We didn't notice
anyone inside as we peered into windows. A garden in
back, winding down for the winter. A Nordic Track and
some other exercise equipment in a side room. Nice place.
Lots of books strewn about and lots of bookshelves. Well
read. We quietly let ourselves into the back and listened
for people and sounds as we crept or skulked into the
home of SooNH.

As we walked down a wood floor corridor we heard the
clicking of keys and a woman's heavy breathing. Tammy
moved ahead slowly and then stopped, motioning me ahead
slowly. As we peered into the room we could see facing
half away from us a striking blond woman with long hair
writing distractedly at a Mac, her body twitching as she
tried to write. Kneeling between her legs was a man of
about 40, sucking her pussy with quite some enthusiasm.
She appeared to be torn between giving it up to his
ministrations, and dedication to whatever she was
writing.

"Robert, I love it, but I need to get this out tonight
before the guests arrive."

"Mmmmfph!"

"I know it tastes good, but I can't write and..."

Tammy backed up against me and I slid a hand down and up
her skirt. She whispered, "You are bad!" but her own had
come behind her and began rubbing me from outside. I
unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans to give her something to
keep her hands busy. I began to rub my cock against her
bare ass, just where she held it.

Soo's self control was stronger than ours. She grabbed
her lover by the hair, whispered something to him and he
stopped and rose, looking dejected and very horny. He
started to leave and we beat a hasty retreat out the back
door, also having been deprived of release.

We watched him leave in the Rover and waited five minutes
before ringing the bell. Soo answered after a minute,
dressed in a beautiful robe that looked like a Navaho
blanket.

We introduced ourselves and she led us into the living
room.

On the coffee table I spotted several volumes from the
"Beautiful Cooking" series and printed copies of several
of Celeste801's reviews, and a copy of Celeste802's
parody, with handwritten notes...

"So, what do you know about this 'Celeste802' character?"

"Just what I read on a.s.s."

"Are you going to make that lame joke twice in the same
story?" Tammy asked, glaring at me.

I let my partner/lover's remark sit and went on.

"But right here you have all of Celeste801's reviews, a
copy of the parody, and your own handwritten notes!"

"Look I value my privacy and...how did you even locate
me?"

"There are only three red Miatas registered in the entire
state, and two of them belong to accountants. Anyway,
we're pretty sure you know more than what you're telling
us!"

Before Soo could respond, Tammy had whipped out her Home
Shopping Network leather cuffs, grabbed Soo's wrists and
slapped them on with Velcro (tm). We both grabbed her and
slid her down on her stomach on the floor. Before she
knew what was happening, her wrists were lashed to her
heavy oak coffee table. We each grabbed a very shapely
ankle and applied the other pair of late-night-mail-order
bondage accessories, had her legs spread-eagled and tied
to a chair and her sofa. We pulled off her robe and she
was...delightful. I made a mental note to reread all of
her stories two or three times when we got back to New
York.

The sight of her twitch and strain against her bonds when
I slapped her ass made a big dent in my professional
demeanor.

"So you won't talk, will you? We'll see about that!"

"Is he for real?" Soo asked Tammy.

"Most of the time."

I slapped her again, and she twitched again. I spanked
her repeatedly and I noticed that she was starting to
grind herself against the floor.

Tammy, ever observant, noted,"You know, babe, this only
works if the person does not want to be spanked."

"Oh yeah, well take that (slap!) and that (slap! slap!)"
Soo was starting to breathe like someone who had been
getting her pussy licked thoroughly fifteen minutes ago,
didn't get off and now had some nut spanking her very
nice ass.

Tammy, deciding to take a different tack, sat on the
floor in front of Soo, grabbed her head and drew her
pussy up against and under Soo's face. From the look on
Tammy's face this wasn't going exactly as I had planned.
I reached underneath Soo and began fingering her pussy
and ass.

"OK, so, we'll get you very high and we won't let you
come!"

Have you ever seen a woman laugh when she has another
woman's pussy in her mouth? Well it was like that. Didn't
do much for my professional credibility. I tried to
remind myself of my goals as Soo's hips made movements
that I don't ordinarily associate with stopping fingering
a woman's pussy and ass. Soo ground her pussy against my
hand and squirmed from my finger sliding deep into her
tight, and very very nice ass. The muscles in her back
stood taut and head shook as she ate Tammy. She pulled
against her bonds and I wished I had another hand to take
out my cock.

I adore the sound of a woman coming with a full mouth, in
this case, full of Tammy. Soo may have been limited to
muffled cries, but Tammy was not nearly so reserved,
looking into my eyes across Soo as she shivered and came.

"Nnnnhhhh!" said Sooo.

Funny, I always thought it referred to New Hampshire.

On our way out we passed a group of people coming up the
path, apparently arriving for the party Soo had mentioned
to her friend. A cop, a bearded guy in a flannel shirt,
jeans and work boots carrying a large wooden dildo, a
tense-looking housewife, two college kids, and a
beautiful bronze woman from the Caribbean who touched
Tammy and called her 'darlin' as we passed.

"The Village People for the '90's?" asked Tammy as we
slid back into the car.

Sunday, December 1.

We didn't wake up until 8 A.M. and didn't get out of bed
until 9:30 A.M. Use your imagination.

A beautiful day for a drive out to Long Island. Back to
the small North Shore village I used to live in. Before
Tammy Ng, before cheap gin and expensive trouble. We
passed the old 1895 grey house I used to live in, the
back yard with swaying trees where I used to sit and
think through quiet cases, sipping 18-year-old single
malt scotch. The place where everything used to be
simple, before the changes.

We parked in front of the familiar old grocery store, a
storefront whose windows held posters extolling the
direct correlation between drinking Budweiser and
attracting women with large breasts, the lunch specials
and Ben & Jerry's. Inside, the grizzled old man behind
the counter looked up from the sandwich he was slowly
wrapping for the only customer in the store. His eyes
shone with a combination of surprise and disapproval.

"Backrub, I don't know whether to shoot you or hug you."

"You got a piece?"

"Not as nice as the one you got next to you."

"Then maybe you better hug me Mac."

The old man came around the counter as the customer
activated a set of jingle bells on the door as he left. I
didn't even see the left hook coming. I saw Tammy start
to move and then stop.

"Maybe I don't have a gun, but I still got my fists!"

"Hey! What'd you do that for!" I mumbled, rubbing my jaw.

"You may have saved my son, but you still sent my nephew
up the river!"

"Your nephew, Mac, was a con artist who bilked elderly
couples and I was a cop at the time. They don't mix.
Someone had to take the fall. He deserved the seven years
he got."

"Well, it ain't fair. He's still got two years in stir
and he can't even write books to make money, like most
normal white collar crim'nals."

"Look, Mac, that's ancient history, we're here to see
Timmy. I need his help on a case and he owes me for the
'Toys 'R Us" caper."

"Who's the dame with the nice gams?"

"Tammy Ng, Bobby MacMillan. Mac, Tammy."

"Ditch him, babe. He's a loser who's going to end up face
down in an viaduct with a bullet between his eyes."

"Viaduct?" asked Tammy. "Why not a chicken?"

"Backrub's been ask'in for it his entire life."

"And most of the morning."

"Oh, one of them smartass modern dames. I'll bet she
likes to be on top, too."

"Oh, Backrub, you told him about me."

"Mac, can we can the classy repartee and see Timmy?"

"Yeah, yeah, he's around back and upstairs, right where
you left him last time. Oh, and you still take hot sauce
on the ham-egg-cheese sammich?"

"Yeah, Mac."

Timmy wasn't exactly 'right where I'd left him.' When I'd
last seen Timmy MacMillan the Harvard Ph.D. cum Deadhead
druggie had gone relatively straight. Instead of spending
his time traveling, operating a home drug lab and
maintaining a taste for the illicit, he'd put his
energies into computers and had started his own small
software and virtual reality R&D firm, as well as
maintaining his own internet server, jerry.com.

We walked into a large room that had more hardware than
I'd ever seen in one place. A mini trade show with
servers, PC's, Macs, printers and stereo equipment. The
Grateful Dead were still flowing out of the speakers, and
Timmy was still wearing a bandana around his head.

"Backrub, long time, man. Who's the sister with the great
legs?"

I repeated the introductions. Tammy smiled demurely.
Timmy looked her up and down.

"Timmy, we need your help on a case. We're looking for
someone on the internet. Celeste802."

"The phantom satirist on a.s.s. Far out."

"You know about this?"

"Sure, not much happens on the sex-related functions of
the internet that I don't know about. Since you saw me
last, I've created my own little empire. I started up
alt.binaries.pictures.erotic.lassie, alt.sex.bigtits,
alt.binaries.sounds.peeing, the Peeper's web page, the
Flemish Erotica CD's, all kinds of stuff. Big bucks
selling CD's and charging people for downloads. Whoever
Celeste802 is, she has class. I could make a fortune
scanning her pussy and selling the files to thousands of
desperate college students. By the way, sweetie, I could
make you a star. Your face could launch a thousand 18-
year-old hearts."

"I think I already launch a 40-year-old pretty
effectively every night," noted Tammy.

"Timmy, if you wanted to trace someone like that, how
would you do it?"

"But how do you do it?" asked Tammy.

Timmy grinned. "What's it worth to you?"

"A couple thousand from our client."

"Shit, I can make that in a good afternoon. I'll tell you
what, Tammysweet. Let me do a few digital photo's of your
sweet pussy and ass and we'll call it even. You'll become
my girlfriend on one newsgroup, a cheerleader on another,
and I'll paste Winona Ryder's face on your body..."

"Timmy, I don't think we want to know about this. We
still have an account with CompuServe."

"The one thing I won't let you photograph is my face."

After we had completed our, or at least Tammy's part of
the bargain, Timmy set to work.

"OK, the first thing we do," he said as he clattered
away, "is hack into AOL and plant a little bitty worm in
their system. That worm will send us an identifying
message when Celeste802 picks up their mail. Then we'll
send them a mail message as bait, sit back and wait."

We sat back and waited. Six hours and two six packs
later, along with Dead concert tapes covering each night
from July 4 through July 20, 1973, Timmy's AOL account
came to life.

"You've got mail!" said America Online.

Timmy moved back to the PC that had just announced mail
call and opened the incoming email message. He looked it
over, saved it printed it, and left AOL's software.

"Backrub, come quick!"

I felt Tammy take me completely into her mouth as her
finger slid into my ass.

"I just did."

"Now we go back in the back door," said Timmy.

Tammy voluteered her pocketbook sized tube of K-Y jelly
and Travellers Aid Society dildo (just fill with hot
water from any tap). Timmy regretfully declined.

"The worm I planted just sent us an automatic message
when 'Celeste802' picked up her mail. The message
includes aol's internal account number for the person, so
even if they're not in the member directory, I can get
them internally through aol's account files."

Tammy and I lost interest until Timmy paused and we saw
him staring at the display. We joined him in staring at
the lines from AOL's account files.

"Farm out," said Timmy.

"Well, I'll be," said Tammy.

"Never a dull moment," I noted.

"Now what do we do?" Tammy asked.

"Well, Celeste801 hired us to find our who wrote the
parody. She hired us because she was hurt that someone
had written the parody. She'll feel better if she knows
who it was, and in this case, she might even be flattered
when she finds out. I think some kind of final
confrontation with the perp is necessary."

"Why's that?" Timmy inquired.

"Because this is a detective story, and detective stories
require final confrontations. Look, I think I read
somewhere that this particular perp likes John LeCarre
novels. Let's send this message..."

I moved over to the keyboard and typed in this message:

"Karla, When we first met in Delhi, I tried to convince
you of the wisdom of moving to us, to the West, and the
limits of your future in the East. You have now reached
those limits. We have Alexandra, we know that she is your
daughter by a woman of known anti-Soviet tendencies, that
you arranged for her secret departure from the Soviet
Union and that you conceived an elaborate plan to
maintain her here, in safety, while establishing a cover
for her as your agent. You have arranged for at least two
murders, plus the official execution of Kirov, to cover
your private scheme. All of this evidence, given your
precarious position in Moscow Centre, is sufficient to
ensure your liquidation by your peers in the Collegium.
If that should occur, Alexandra would be left alone, an
ailing refugee sent from public hospital to public
hospital, or worse, sent back to Russia, where she would
be subject to the full wrath of your enemies.

"There is another way, which I offered you twenty years
ago when we met in Delhi. Come to us, in the West, tell
us what you know, and we will make you a home here.

Smiley

P.S., M: We know you're Celeste802. Time to 'fess up. -
Backrub, P.I."

"Sure know how to stretch a point, don't you? Is she
going to have any idea what that is all about?" Tammy
opined.

"Well, let's see if it works. If she likes LeCarre she
may be impressed, or just curious about how we found her
out."

It worked. Two hours later, an email message from
Celeste802:

"George, darling, Come and get me. Tonight, 9 P.M.
Alone... Karla"

There was also a Manhattan address and a password to give
the doorman, who, I suspected, would otherwise not let me
through the front door, much less into an elevator.

We bid Timmy farewell, and raced back to the city. Tammy
went to gather up Celeste801 at her hotel room and bring
her to our office to await my return. I headed uptown.
The building was on Fifth Avenue, within sight of the
Metropolitan Museum. I made a note to move into the
neighborhood as soon as I've cleared $3 million.

The doorman let me in, smiling and I went up to the
apartment, in the quiet and relatively exclusive
building.

She answered the door wearing a sleeveless cotton crop
top and tight jeans, a small ruby heart dangling at her
throat.

"Ms. Ciccione, I presume?"

"Hey, you're not one my high school teachers!", she
smiled. "C'mon in and tell me a story."

Standing seven feet behind Madonna was Sandra Bernhard,
looking surprised.

"You really don't look like any private eye I'd ever
imagine. I mean, I would've expected a trench coat and a
fedora, not jeans, a tweed jacket and Mets cap. I
envisioned Humphrey Bogart or Robert Mitchum, not fuckin'
Woody Allen. You look like some NYU professor."

I decided that mentioning my stint as an NYU professor
would not improve my standing.

"There's only one thig 'Woody' about me, sister."

Madonna laughed. "OK, tell me the story. How did you
figure this out?"

We sat down and I told them the entire tale. When I was
finished, each of them had something to say.

Madonna: "Pretty cool. Sounds like a fun job you've got
there."

Sandra: "No real private eye stuff? No climbing up
buildings or shooting people or guys named 'Louie' or
people knocking you over the head or tying you up or
anything? You found us by using a stupid computer trick?"

"Actually, I thought it was a pretty smart computer
trick. If it'll make you feel any better, you can always
tie me up..."

Five minutes later I was lying tied, naked and spread-
eagled on a large bed with silk sheets in a dark room lit
only by many candles. Madonna, now in black lace bra and
crotchless panties, was kneeling between my legs, rolling
a condom onto my hardening cock. Looking straight up, I
saw Ms. Bernhard's pussy descending onto my face. I
licked, and enjoyed it.

After sucking me with world class ability for several
minutes, Madonna mounted me and began riding me while I
continued to lave Sandra's pussy, which was grinding into
my face as she got higher. I couldn't see the movements
of Madonna's hips as she rode me, but it was clear from
what I was feeling that she was very dedicated to working
out all sorts of muscles.

Sandra came, grinding herself indulgently all over my
face as I licked her clit, pussy and anus. She continued
rubbing until she was completely sated and she'd wiped
her juices all over my face. She dismounted to kneel next
to Madonna and pinch her nipples as she came. We locked
onto each others' eyes as her blond curls quivered, her
hips thrust and her body flushed. The sight of the muscle
definition on her thighs and stomach almost made me lose
control.

Then, each of them was on a side of me. The condom was
off and Sandra was putting oil on my cock and stroking
while Madonna bit my nipples.

"You know, this might not be the time to bring this up,
but in 'Body of Evidence,' I really found the simple but
passionate sex scene between Julianne Moore and Willem
Dafoe more of a turn on that your bondage seduction stuff
with him and the hot dripping wax later in the film."

"So, we've got Gene Siskel in bed with us today, Sandra."

With a mischievous grin and a sparkle in her eyes,
Madonna reached for a nearby candle.

"Oh, you're not really going to...Ouch...Oooch!"

"So...you like the hot wax on your chest, don't you?"

She continued drop, drop, dropping hot candle wax onto me
as she covered an index finger with oil and brought it to
my ass. Kids, if you see a woman with long nails on all
of her fingers except for one, usually an index finger,
this may be reason.

Sandra's wet, fast stroking of my cock continued apace.
She brought her face down to it as if to invite me to
come on her, then rapidly flickered her tongue about one
millionth of an inch away from the head, then looked up
at me with those smoky eyes and thick pouting lips. As I
stiffened and tugged at my restraints, Sandra aimed my
cock over my stomach and Madonna slid her finger into my
ass, sliding in and out as I came in large, warm spurts
over my stomach and her nice satin sheets.

"Hey, he's sorta cute when he comes!"

Later, the three of us showered together, removing the
wax and sweat from our bodies. I insisted on making sure
that each of their pussies was really, really, clean,
sliding a bar of soap over and between their pussy lips
until they came, each holding each other. They
reciprocated and I came on Sandra's tits.

Dressed and ready to go, I stood at the door. Madonna
dropped to her knees, unzipped me, took out my clean cock
and sucked it hard two or three times and then smeared
her lipsticked lips over each side. Hard, she put me back
in my pants, rose and kissed me goodbye.

I returned to my office and reported to Celeste801 and
Tammy. I left out the part about the sex to avoid
upsetting Tammy or suggesting to Celeste801 that I'd
already been paid in the form of fringe benefits. I
explained that Madonna had nothing to lose: no one would
believe the story and even if they did, it would only
help her image, either as a sex symbol or as a smart
clever individual who can write as well as sing.
Celeste801 was unlikely to crow to her students or
friends, who might be impressed about the Madonna
connection but outraged by the English-teacher- secret-
writer-of-erotica.

Celeste801 was flattered, because whether or not she
happened to like Madonna, brushes with fame are exciting
and a world famous sexually-charged rock star parodying
your work is something of an ego boost. Tammy and I got
paid and Timmy got pictures of Tammy's pussy to post on
Usenet (check out
alt.binaries.pictures.erotic.catholic.school.girls, under
the header, "Hillary Clinton's pussy - REALLY!"), also
available on CD-ROM. Deidre and Tammy had something new
to argue about, SoooNH continued occasional writing of
sexy, thoughtful stories, Madonna probably made another
million while I wrote this, and Sandra Bernhard continued
her career as a sexy smartass.

AFTERWARD

Evening, Sunday, December 1.

After everything calmed down, Tammy and I went to dinner,
then a movie, then back to my place. There are two things
you need to know about the very end of this case. The
first is that I live in a nice, but not luxurious
building, and nice New York City apartment buildings are
usually overheated. It may have been December 1 and only
42 degrees out, but the heat was cranked up and I had the
bedroom window open about six inches or so. Tammy likes
things toasty warm, while bear that I am, I prefer cool.
It just ensures that she cuddles up close to me at night.

The second thing you need to know is that Police Officer
Kevin Brophy, the beat cop on my block, is an old friend
who looks after me. The next day he mentioned that at
about 1:15 A.M., while passing my building, he could
clearly hear Tammy's voice from my fourth floor bedroom,
exclaiming, "Hey, what's this lipstick doing on your
cock!?"

Private Eye Hint Number Seven: Always wipe everything
clean of prints after an illegal entry.

[Fade to theme music and credits]

by Backrub (bckrub@aol.com) and Tammy Ng
(deidreng@aol.com)

February 4, 1996

Three versions of College Reunion

English majors! Why strain yourself over Dubliners,
Stephen Hero, etc.? Trace the history of the artist and
the artistry of her story through three versions of the
same story.

Sisters Ng: College Reunion by Deidre Ng

I knock on your door, shaking. Why did I think you would
want to see me again, after so long? I never come to
Denver, but I remember you had moved here. I cancelled my
seat on the red-eye before I phoned you. This is crazy,
but I can't let this chance pass by.

"Hi, its me, Deidre. I'm so glad you let me come over."

You open the door and let me in. Once the door is closed,
I take both your hands in mine and give them a squeeze.
Holding your hands I stand close and kiss you full on the
lips. Maybe you're suprised that I kissed you like that
right away. Maybe you're suprised at how my kiss lingers
on your lips. Maybe you can feel your body waking up to
the touch of our lips together. You give a little sigh
and squeeze my hands in return. Your lips part. I trace
them with the tip of my tongue. You must be remembering
what it was like for us. You must be imagining how it
will feel, when I do that to you between your legs. The
warmth must be already spreading through you. Its already
spreading through me.

You realize that we are still standing at the door.
Laughing, you pull away and invite me in to sit for
coffee. Your place is big and airy, not like that place
we shared. Holding my hand you lead me to the sofa. You
go to the kitchen to fix it and I follow you. I don't
want to leave you, now that I am here. You are filling a
pot of water at the sink when I come up behind you. I hug
you from behind. At first my hands circle you, holding
you, letting you know how dear you are to me, even after
so long. Then they creep up your chest and I take your
breasts in my hands. I knew you wouldn't wear a bra for
me, I was so excited when I came in and saw your breasts
swinging against the fabric of your blouse, nipples
pushing up against the thin cotton, dark aureoles showing
through.

Looking at your breasts always thrilled me. I remember
the first time you undressed for me in our tiny Boston
apartment, the sight of your breasts bobbing free made my
throat dry. I thought my heart would never stop beating
harder and harder, faster and faster. Your skin was so
white, your nipples so dark in the dusky half light. Now
I hold them and can't help but carress you through your
blouse. My fingers seek out your nipples, how wonderfully
full and stiff they are. I pinch them, pull them, twist
them to make you moan and push your ass backwards into
me.

Somehow you pull my hands away from your breasts and
continue making coffee. You bring it in to the living
room on a tray that you set down on the table in front of
the sofa. We sit and talk, sip our coffee. My eyes roam
over you, taking in your attractive figure, your hair,
your eyes, your smile. Our fingers never stop touching,
playing with each other.

We put down the cups. Leaning forward our lips meet
again, and this time our tongues meet between them. Your
hands drift up to touch my breasts the way I was touching
you before, cupping and stroking me. I can feel them
swell and grow warm and the sweat bloom in my armpits as
you touch me, I whimper as you pull at my nipples. We
embrace and I feel a great rush of emotion and passion as
our breasts rub together. I'm holding you close,
passionately kissing you, and your tongue probes deeply
into my mouth. Its the first time again.

I want to touch you with nothing between us. I start
unbuttoning your blouse while you pull up at my tee
shirt. Soon we are topless together on the sofa, kissing,
breasts rubbing together, running our hands over each
others bodies. We wet our nipples and rub them together,
then let our breasts interlock, one of yours between
mine, one of mine between yours as we kiss. I can feel
your stiff nipple against my breastbone as our bodies
press together.

We take off our pants and let our clothes form a mingled
pile on the floor. I want you so badly now, I hardly know
what to do first. You tell me I'm your guest, please sit
back and let you make me feel comfortable. You tell me
how you like my tawny skin as your hands carress me. Your
hands play with my long silky hair as you kiss my face.
You're making me so hot inside, I feel the wet between my
pussylips, my muscles clenching.

I lie down and offer you my pussy. You stroke my thighs,
teasing me. Then you lower your head and gently begin to
kiss me. Your lips slide inwards, closer and closer to my
hot, wet pussy. Your mouth hovers over it and you breathe
softly on my mound, the warm, gentle passage of your
moist breath over my delicate inflamed lips makes me moan
in anticipation of more direct stimulus.

"Please, Christine, lick my pussy, I want to feel your
tongue on my clit. I'm so hot for you. You're so
beautiful. I love having your pretty face between my
legs. I want to push my pussy onto your face and get you
all wet with my juice. I want you licking it out of me.
Please, please lick me now. I need you tasting me."

You smile at me. Reaching over to the coffee table, you
take pinch of sugar from the bowl between your fingers.
You rub your fingers together over my clit, and the
grains of sugar rain down on me in a little white shower.
Some fall in to the dark patch of my hair. Some scatter 
across the smooth skin of my thighs and fall onto the
sofa. But most land inside the moist lips of my pussy. I
let out a little squeal and gasp as they hit me and
dissolve into my juice.

"Making my sweet one even sweeter," you say. Then you
bend down again and begin to lick up the juice from my
pussy. So slow, so delicate. You know just what I want.
You spread me wide open to tongue my clit. You bring to
the brink and then pull back, take me in your mouth
again, until the sweet slow circles of your tongue have
me gasping for breath. You start to pull away again, but
I put one hand on your beautiful hair and push you back
into my pussy. I need you to lick and suck and tease me
tilI I come and my thighs grab your beautiful head as I
thrash from the power of my orgasm. Oh, yes oh dear oh
just a little more oh thats just oh oh

As the weakness of post-orgasm lassitude falls heavily on
me, I pull you up to lie on me. We kiss and I can taste
my juice on your lips and tongue. We rest together for a
while.

Now I want to taste you. You get up and let me slide down
so that my head is in the middle of the couch. Now you
straddle me and lower your pussy onto my face. I've
waited so long for the chance to kiss you here. You tease
me again, holding your pussy inches away from me while
you finger yourself. Between the folds of your beautiful
pussy lips your finger teases your clit, wets it strokes
it, circles it. You have such long, elegant fingers. It
takes my breath away to watch them slide beteen the folds
of your pussy, watch your cunt devour them, see them
reappear covered with your pearly juice. I so much want
to do all those things to you with my tongue. I content
myself with telling you how wet you're making me again,
how the fragrance of your pussy is making me drunk with
desire to kiss you, how watching your finger move between
your lips and bathe your clit with juice is making me
play with myself, my finger following yours, every circle
and stroke repeated between my legs.

I'm getting so hot watching you, pussy just out of reach,
following your every move, I know you must be close to
coming, please let me suck on you, take your clit
tenderly into my mouth and flick it with my tongue so
sweetly. Let me send my tongue deep into your dripping
pussy, licking the juice from your tight walls. Your lips
will spread over my cheeks and my nose will rub against
your clit.

Finally I convince you to let me suck your pussy and you
lower yourself those last few inches to my face. I'm in
heaven as your wet lips spread over mine and I find your
throbbing pink bud with my tongue. Now its my turn to
tease you, and make you wait for release. I leave my
finger in place in my own pussy as I lick you and every
little lick has its counterpart between my own legs. You
turn around so that you can watch me finger my pussy as I
suck yours, it gets you even more excited watching me
pleasure myself, feeling my tongue move in synchrony with
my finger. I feel your lips pulling tighter, I know your
orgasm is building inside you. My own orgasm is close as
well and I'm sure its obvious to you how excited I am.
Your clit and mine share all the attention. You press
yourself down onto my face, the wiry hair of your mound
pressed against my chin. Tongue and finger circling,
circling, yes you're coming please come on me I'm coming
too, yes please yes

Afterwards we lie together and our fingers drift across
each others skin in lazy patterns. We whisper and kiss
and snuggle and doze. I'll have to go soon, but not now.

Sisters Ng: College Reunion by Deidre Ng

I knock on your door, shaking. Why did I think you would
want to see me again, after so long? I never come to
Denver, but I remember you had moved here. I cancelled my
seat on the red-eye before I phoned you. This is crazy,
but I can't let this chance pass by.

"Hi, its me, Deidre. I'm so glad you let me come over."

You open the door and let me in. Once the door is closed,
I take both your hands in mine and give them a squeeze.
Holding your hands I stand close and kiss you full on the
lips. Maybe you're suprised that I kissed you like that
right away. Maybe you're suprised at how my kiss lingers
on your lips. Maybe you can feel your body waking up to
the touch of our lips together. You give a little sigh
and squeeze my hands in return. Your lips part. I trace
them with the tip of my tongue. You must be remembering
what it was like for us. You must be imagining how it
will feel, when I do that to you between your legs. The
warmth must be already spreading through you. Its already
spreading through me.

You realize that we are still standing at the door.
Laughing, you pull away and invite me in to sit for
coffee. Your place is big and airy, not like that place
we shared. Holding my hand you lead me to the sofa. You
go to the kitchen to fix it and I follow you. I don't
want to leave you, now that I am here. You are filling a
pot of water at the sink when I come up behind you. I hug
you from behind. At first my hands circle you, holding
you, letting you know how dear you are to me, even after
so long. Then they creep up your chest and I take your
breasts in my hands. I knew you wouldn't wear a bra for
me, I was so excited when I came in and saw your breasts
swinging against the fabric of your blouse, nipples
pushing up against the thin cotton, dark aureoles showing
through.

Looking at your breasts always thrilled me. I remember
the first time you undressed for me in our tiny Boston
apartment, the sight of your breasts bobbing free made my
throat dry. I thought my heart would never stop beating
harder and harder, faster and faster. Your skin was so
white, your nipples so dark in the dusky half light. Now
I hold them and can't help but carress you through your
blouse. My fingers seek out your nipples, how wonderfully
full and stiff they are. I pinch them, pull them, twist
them to make you moan and push your ass backwards into
me.

Somehow you pull my hands away from your breasts and
continue making coffee. You bring it in to the living
room on a tray that you set down on the table in front of
the sofa. We sit and talk, sip our coffee. My eyes roam
over you, taking in your attractive figure, your hair,
your eyes, your smile. Our fingers never stop touching,
playing with each other.

We were sharing that place, two students trying to
stretch their pitiful bank accounts by sharing
everything. For two years we went nonstop. We each put in
relentless effort, never looking up from our studies,
falling asleep exhausted every night. No vacation or
social life for either of us. Until one night when I
looked up from my book, thinking you had suddenly become
very quiet and still. I looked up, thinking maybe you
didn't feel well. You were looking at me, and little
tears were gathering in your eyes and rolling away down
your cheeks.

"Christine, what is it? What's the matter?" I reached
across our little table where we ate and studied
together, taking your fingers in my hand. You started to
cry and in between your sobs you told me why.

"I was reading and looked up to relieve my eyes and I
thought to myself that the eyedoctors say that to help
your eyes after too much close up work you have to focus
on something far away. But there isn't anything far away
in this place, you can't even look out the window and see
anything except a brick wall. And I thought that I have a
very small world right now, all books and papers and
study, and that of that whole small world it suddenly
struck me that you were the most beautiful thing there
was and then this feeling started to well up inside of me
and I started crying and I have to tell you... I have to
tell you that I love you so much."

It was two steps from the table to the bed, and I
remember taking you across that great distance with my
arm around your shoulders, feeling them shake as you
sobbed. In those two steps my own tears rose and
overfilled my eyes, my own feelings burst free. We sat
there, arm in arm, crying. I turned to hug you and my
cheek pressed against yours. Our tears mingled together,
making a slippery contact spread across our cheeks. I
tasted salt at the corner of my mouth, I started to kiss
your tears away, you started to do the same for me. Our
lips met as we chased each others tears, and then they
met again, and again, and would not stop. We kissed as
the tears dropped away. My hands moved shaking to the
buttons on your blouse. We each broke into a new round of
tears as the buttons slipped from the eyeholes. I think
we cried through that whole first exploration of each
other, orgasms and all, until we dropped in an exhausted
tangle on the bed.

We put down the cups. Leaning forward our lips meet
again, and this time our tongues meet between them. Your
hands drift up to touch my breasts the way I was touching
you before, cupping and stroking me. I can feel them
swell and grow warm and the sweat bloom in my armpits as
you touch me, I whimper as you pull at my nipples. We
embrace and I feel a great rush of emotion and passion as
our breasts rub together. I'm holding you close,
passionately kissing you, and your tongue probes deeply
into my mouth. Its the first time again.

I want to touch you with nothing between us. I start
unbuttoning your blouse while you pull up at my tee
shirt. Soon we are topless together on the sofa, kissing,
breasts rubbing together, running our hands over each
others bodies. We wet our nipples and rub them together,
then let our breasts interlock, one of yours between
mine, one of mine between yours as we kiss. I can feel
your stiff nipple against my breastbone as our bodies
press together.

We take off our pants and let our clothes form a mingled
pile on the floor. I want you so badly now, I hardly know
what to do first. You tell me I'm your guest, please sit
back and let you make me feel comfortable. You tell me
how you like my tawny skin as your hands carress me. Your
hands play with my long silky hair as you kiss my face.
You're making me so hot inside, I feel the wet between my
pussylips, my muscles clenching.

I lie down and offer you my pussy. You stroke my thighs,
teasing me. Then you lower your head and gently begin to
kiss me. Your lips slide inwards, closer and closer to my
hot, wet pussy. Your mouth hovers over it and you breathe
softly on my mound, the warm, gentle passage of your
moist breath over my delicate inflamed lips makes me moan
in anticipation of more direct stimulus.

"Please, Christine, lick my pussy, I want to feel your
tongue on my clit. I'm so hot for you. You're so
beautiful. I love having your pretty face between my
legs. I want to push my pussy onto your face and get you
all wet with my juice. I want you licking it out of me.
Please, please lick me now. I need you tasting me."

You smile at me. Reaching over to the coffee table, you
take pinch of sugar from the bowl between your fingers.
You rub your fingers together over my clit, and the
grains of sugar rain down on me in a little white shower.
Some fall in to the dark patch of my hair. Some scatter
across the smooth skin of my thighs and fall onto the
sofa. But most land inside the moist lips of my pussy. I
let out a little squeal and gasp as they hit me and
dissolve into my juice.

"Making my sweet one even sweeter," you say. Then you
bend down again and begin to lick up the juice from my
pussy. So slow, so delicate. You know just what I want.
You spread me wide open to tongue my clit. You bring to
the brink and then pull back, take me in your mouth
again, until the sweet slow circles of your tongue have
me gasping for breath. You start to pull away again, but
I put one hand on your beautiful hair and push you back
into my pussy. I need you to lick and suck and tease me
tilI I come and my thighs grab your beautiful head as I
thrash from the power of my orgasm. Oh, yes oh dear oh
just a little more oh thats just oh oh

As the weakness of post-orgasm lassitude falls heavily on
me, I pull you up to lie on me. We kiss and I can taste
my juice on your lips and tongue. We rest together for a
while.

Now I want to taste you. You get up and let me slide down
so that my head is in the middle of the couch. Now you
straddle me and lower your pussy onto my face. I've
waited so long for the chance to kiss you here. You tease
me again, holding your pussy inches away from me while
you finger yourself. Between the folds of your beautiful
pussy lips your finger teases your clit, wets it strokes
it, circles it. You have such long, elegant fingers. It
takes my breath away to watch them slide beteen the folds
of your pussy, watch your cunt devour them, see them
reappear covered with your pearly juice. I so much want
to do all those things to you with my tongue. I content
myself with telling you how wet you're making me again,
how the fragrance of your pussy is making me drunk with
desire to kiss you, how watching your finger move between
your lips and bathe your clit with juice is making me
play with myself, my finger following yours, every circle
and stroke repeated between my legs.

I'm getting so hot watching you, pussy just out of reach,
following your every move, I know you must be close to
coming, please let me suck on you, take your clit
tenderly into my mouth and flick it with my tongue so
sweetly. Let me send my tongue deep into your dripping
pussy, licking the juice from your tight walls. Your lips
will spread over my cheeks and my nose will rub against
your clit.

Finally I convince you to let me suck your pussy and you
lower yourself those last few inches to my face. I'm in
heaven as your wet lips spread over mine and I find your
throbbing pink bud with my tongue. Now its my turn to
tease you, and make you wait for release. I leave my
finger in place in my own pussy as I lick you and every
little lick has its counterpart between my own legs. You
turn around so that you can watch me finger my pussy as I
suck yours, it gets you even more excited watching me
pleasure myself, feeling my tongue move in synchrony with
my finger. I feel your lips pulling tighter, I know your
orgasm is building inside you. My own orgasm is close as
well and I'm sure its obvious to you how excited I am.
Your clit and mine share all the attention. You press
yourself down onto my face, the wiry hair of your mound
pressed against my chin. Tongue and finger circling,
circling, yes you're coming please come on me I'm coming
too, yes please yes

Afterwards we lie together and our fingers drift across
each others skin in lazy patterns. We whisper and kiss
and snuggle and doze. I'll have to go soon, but not now.

Sisters Ng: College Reunion by Deidre Ng

I knock on your door, shaking. Why did I think you would
want to see me again, after so long? I never come to
Denver, but I remember you had moved here. I cancelled my
seat on the red-eye before I phoned you. This is crazy,
but I can't let this chance pass by.

"Hi, its me, Deidre. I'm so glad you let me come over."

You open the door and let me in. Once the door is closed,
I take both your hands in mine and give them a squeeze.
Holding your hands I stand close and kiss you full on the
lips. Maybe you're suprised that I kissed you like that
right away. Maybe you're suprised at how my kiss lingers
on your lips. Maybe you can feel your body waking up to
the touch of our lips together. You give a little sigh
and squeeze my hands in return. Your lips part. I trace
them with the tip of my tongue. You must be remembering
what it was like for us. You must be imagining how it
will feel, when I do that to you between your legs. The
warmth must be already spreading through you. Its already
spreading through me.

You realize that we are still standing at the door.
Laughing, you pull away and invite me in to sit for
coffee. Your place is big and airy, not like that place
we shared. Holding my hand you lead me to the sofa. You
go to the kitchen to fix the coffe you offered me and I
follow you. I don't want to leave you, now that I am
here. You are filling a pot of water at the sink when I
come up behind you. I hug you from behind. At first my
hands circle you, holding you, letting you know how dear
you are to me, even after so long. Then they creep up
your chest and I take your breasts in my hands. I knew
you wouldn't wear a bra for me, I was so excited when I
came in and saw your breasts swinging against the fabric
of your blouse, nipples pushing up against the thin
cotton, dark aureoles showing through.

Looking at your breasts always thrilled me. I remember
the first time you undressed for me in our tiny Boston
apartment, the sight of your breasts bobbing free made my
throat dry. I thought my heart would never stop beating
harder and harder, faster and faster. Your skin was so
white, your nipples so dark in the dusky half light. Now
I hold them and can't help but carress you through your
blouse. My fingers seek out your nipples, how wonderfully
full and stiff they are. I pinch them, pull them, twist
them to make you moan and push your ass backwards into
me.

Somehow you pull my hands away from your breasts and
continue making coffee. You bring it in to the living
room on a tray that you set down on the table in front of
the sofa. We sit and talk, sip our coffee. My eyes roam
over you, taking in your attractive figure, your hair,
your eyes, your smile. Our fingers never stop touching,
playing with each other.

We were sharing that place, two students trying to
stretch their pitiful bank accounts by sharing
everything. For two years we went nonstop. We each put in
relentless effort, never looking up from our studies,
falling asleep exhausted every night. No vacation or
social life for either of us. Until one night when I
looked up from my book, thinking you had suddenly become
very quiet and still. I looked up, thinking maybe you
didn't feel well. You were looking at me, and little
tears were gathering in your eyes and rolling away down
your cheeks.

"Christine, what is it? Whats the matter?" I reached
across our little table where we ate and studied
together, taking your fingers in my hand. You started to
cry and in between your sobs you told me why.

"I was reading and looked up to relieve my eyes and I
thought to myself that the eyedoctors say that to help
your eyes after too much close up work you have to focus
on something far away. But there isn't anything far away
in this place, you can't even look out the window and see
anything except a brick wall. And I thought that I have a
very small world right now, all books and papers and
study, and that of that whole small world it suddenly
struck me that you were the most beautiful thing there
was and then this feeling started to well up inside of me
and I started crying and I have to tell you... I have to
tell you that I love you so much."

It was two steps from the table to the bed, and I
remember taking you across that great distance with my
arm around your shoulders, feeling them shake as you
sobbed. In those two steps my own tears rose and
overfilled my eyes, my own feelings burst free. We sat
there, arm in arm, crying. I turned to hug you and my
cheek pressed against yours. Our tears mingled together,
making a slippery contact spread across our cheeks. I
tasted salt at the corner of my mouth, I started to kiss
your tears away, you started to do the same for me. Our
lips met as we chased each others tears, and then they
met again, and again, and would not stop. We kissed as
the tears dropped away. My hands moved shaking to the
buttons on your blouse. We each broke into a new round of
tears as the buttons slipped from the eyeholes. I think
we cried through that whole first exploration of each
other, orgasms and all, until we dropped in an exhausted
tangle on the bed.

We put down the cups. Leaning forward our lips meet
again, and this time our tongues meet between them. Your
hands drift up to touch my breasts the way I was touching
you before, cupping and stroking me. I can feel them
swell and grow warm and the sweat bloom in my armpits as
you touch me, I whimper as you pull at my nipples. We
embrace and I feel a great rush of emotion and passion as
our breasts rub together. I'm holding you close,
passionately kissing you, and your tongue probes deeply
into my mouth. Its the first time again.

I want to touch you with nothing between us. I start
unbuttoning your blouse while you pull up at my tee
shirt. Soon we are topless together on the sofa, kissing,
breasts rubbing together, running our hands over each
others bodies. We wet our nipples and rub them together,
then let our breasts interlock, one of yours between
mine, one of mine between yours as we kiss. I can feel
your stiff nipple against my breastbone as our bodies
press together.

We take off our pants and let our clothes form a mingled
pile on the floor. I want you so badly now, I hardly know
what to do first. You tell me I'm your guest, please sit
back and let you make me feel comfortable. You tell me
how you like my tawny skin as your hands carress me. Your
hands play with my long silky hair as you kiss my face.
You're making me so hot inside, I feel the wet between my
pussylips, my muscles clenching.

I lie down and offer you my pussy. You stroke my thighs,
teasing me. Then you lower your head and gently begin to
kiss me. Your lips slide inwards, closer and closer to my
hot, wet pussy. Your mouth hovers over it and you breathe
softly on my mound, the warm, gentle passage of your
moist breath over my delicate inflamed lips makes me moan
in anticipation of more direct stimulus.

"Please, Christine, lick my pussy, I want to feel your
tongue on my clit. I'm so hot for you. You're so
beautiful. I love having your pretty face between my
legs. I want to push my pussy onto your face and get you
all wet with my juice. I want you licking it out of me.
Please, please lick me now. I need you tasting me."

You smile at me. Reaching over to the coffee table, you
take pinch of sugar from the bowl between your fingers.
You rub your fingers together over my clit, and the
grains of sugar rain down on me in a little white shower.
Some fall in to the dark patch of my hair. Some scatter
across the smooth skin of my thighs and fall onto the
sofa. But most land inside the moist lips of my pussy. I
let out a little squeal and gasp as they hit me and
dissolve into my juice.

"Making my sweet one even sweeter," you say. Then you
bend down again and begin to lick up the juice from my
pussy. So slow, so delicate. You know just what I want.
You spread me wide open to tongue my clit. You bring me
to the brink and then pull back, take me in your mouth
again, until the sweet slow circles of your tongue have
me gasping for breath. You start to pull away again, but
I put one hand on your beautiful hair and push you back
into my pussy. I need you to lick and suck and tease me
tilI I come and my thighs grab your beautiful head as I
thrash from the power of my orgasm. Oh, yes oh dear oh
just a little more oh thats just oh oh

As the weakness of post-orgasm lassitude falls heavily on
me, I pull you up to lie on me. We kiss and I can taste
my juice on your lips and tongue. We rest together for a 
while.

Resting together, I remember how we first held each
other. We untangled ourselves after a while and stretched
out the stiffness in our arms and legs. You decided to
order Chinese food to be delivered, an unthinkable luxury
for us. We sat at opposite ends of the bed, waiting for
the food to arrive. At first we just looked at each
other, big smiles shining on our faces.

I saw you blush. Your face got so red, it went from your
cheeks to your neck to your chest between your breasts.

"What's wrong?" I thought you were going to cry again.

You spoke, but your voice was very small and little
girlish.

"Don't move or talk for a while. Please. I want to show
you something."

I almost said, "Yes, of course." But something in your
manner made me stop. Instead I nodded, almost
imperceptibly.

You smiled, and blushed again, and closed your eyes.

"This is my most incredible, incredibly private thing."

Your hands were sliding up your belly to cover your
breasts. Your nipples peeked out from between your
fingers. I watched as your hands alternately flattened
your breasts and pulled your nipples outwards. You licked
the cleft between your index and middle finger on each
hand, and caught your nipples there, making them
slippery. Your head fell to one side, mouth half open. A
little bead of saliva hung at the corner of your mouth.

I was afraid to move, not knowing whether or not you were
becoming more or less aware of my presence. I couldn't
tear my eyes away from your hands and how you were
massaging your breasts, but I could feel my own body
reacting. My own breasts throbbed. One of my legs was
falling asleep below the knee, from the position I was
caught in.

Finally you moved your hands reluctantly away from your
breasts. You drew your knees up and let them slowly fall
outwards. My mouth went dry again at the sight of your
pussy, damp hair matted against the swollen mound, the
dark line of your lips down the middle.

You curled one hand over your head as you wet the fingers
of the other. It slid down between your legs, down to the
very base of your pussy. I watched your hand work the
lips of your pussy apart. You let go a breath, a sigh of
slow pleasure as your lips flowered outwards.

Just then I wanted so much to pitch myself forwards and
press my face against your soft skin. I wanted to thrust
my tongue between your fingers, into the valley between
your lips, until I found your clit with the tip of my
tongue. I wanted your hand to rest, to stay, holding your
lips apart as I delicatley dabbed at the surface of your
clit.

I knew I had to restrain myself. I couldn't interrupt the
intimate secret you were sharing with me. My own pussy
clenched, and I felt my own moisture working into my own
cracks and crevices. I knew that touching myself would
spoil the watching, and I had to watch, to know the full
measure of the gift you were giving me.

I felt that I had to follow closely every motion of your
fingers. Every time they followed a fold of your skin,
every time they passed up to your mouth to be wetted or
dived into the tight pink depths to be wetted again, so
that your juice and saliva mixed in the perfect
combination for you, I had to watch and notice and
remember. I remember that later that night when we made
love again you used the same combination of your spit and
your juice to make your fingers wet before you penetrated
me with them. It made me almost faint to see your fingers
come out from deep inside you, so wet I could see them
glistening, before you slid them into, far into, me.

At last your other hand came down from over your head,
and you held yourself widespread for the fingertips of
the first hand to dance and slide across the top and
sides of your clit. From the way you held your lips
apart, it stood out from among the folds, hood pulled
back. Your back began to arch in anticipation of coming,
like a bow pulled taut, ready to loose it's arrow of
passion aimed straight at my heart. The movements of your
fingers went from fluid circling to hurried brushing to
spastic twitches. Eyes clenched shut, you started to
whisper my name, over and over.

"O Dee, o deedee, o deedee, deedee, deeeeee..." And you 
came and launched your arrow into my heart. I started to
cry again, watching you come, calling my name in a
private world, calling for my lips and tongue to be
there, buried in your inmost place.

You lay back panting. I was panting too, and finally
shifted my position, leaning back against the footboard.
I think I would have reciprocated right then, but the
speaker buzzed from the front door, announcing our
dinner. I got up shakily and threw on your bathrobe.
Peeking around the door of the apartment, I exchanged
money for food with the delivery boy, a few words of
Chinese passing between us. You were just a few feet
away, legs still splayed open, hugging yourself across
your breasts and crying silently.

I closed and locked the door. Coming back to the bed I
sat close to you. You lifted your leg and put it across
my lap. I ran my hand along the smooth skin of your thigh
and let it rest over the damp hot flesh of your pussy.
You reached down and knit your fingers into mine.

"No man could ever understand what I just shared with
you, as deeply as you do. And no woman ever will,
because, I promise, you're gonna be my only girl forever
and ever."

Now I want to taste you. You get up and let me slide down
so that my head is in the middle of the couch. Now you
straddle me and lower your pussy onto my face. I've
waited so long for the chance to kiss you here. You tease
me again, holding your pussy inches away from me while
you finger yourself. Between the folds of your beautiful
pussy lips your finger teases your clit, wets it strokes
it, circles it. You have such long, elegant fingers. It
takes my breath away to watch them slide between the
folds of your pussy, watch your cunt devour them, see
them reappear covered with your pearly juice. I so much
want to do all those things to you with my tongue. I
content myself with telling you how wet you're making me
again, how the fragrance of your pussy is making me drunk
with desire to kiss you, how watching your finger move
between your lips and bathe your clit with juice is
making me play with myself, my finger following yours,
every circle and stroke repeated between my legs.

I'm getting so hot watching you, pussy just out of reach,
following your every move, I know you must be close to
coming, please let me suck on you, take your clit
tenderly into my mouth and flick it with my tongue so
sweetly. Let me send my tongue deep into your dripping
pussy, licking the juice from your tight walls. Your lips
will spread over my cheeks and my nose will rub against
your clit.

Finally I convince you to let me suck your pussy and you
lower yourself those last few inches to my face. I'm in
heaven as your wet lips spread over mine and I find your
throbbing pink bud with my tongue. Now its my turn to
tease you, and make you wait for release. I leave my
finger in place in my own pussy as I lick you and every
little lick has its counterpart between my own legs. You
turn around so that you can watch me finger my pussy as I
suck yours, it gets you even more excited watching me
pleasure myself, feeling my tongue move in synchrony with
my finger. I feel your lips pulling tighter, I know your
orgasm is building inside you. My own orgasm is close as
well and I'm sure it's obvious to you how excited I am.
Your clit and mine share all the attention. You press
yourself down onto my face, the wiry hair of your mound
pressed against my chin. Tongue and finger circling,
circling, yes you're coming please come on me I'm coming
too, yes please yes

Afterwards we lie together and our fingers drift across
each others skin in lazy patterns. We whisper and kiss
and snuggle and doze. I'll have to go soon, but not now.

Sisters Ng - American As..., by Deidre
Ng

Last winter, during a January marked by both voluntary
and involuntary shutdowns of Washington, DC, I went to a
large room at 26 Federal Plaza in lower Manhattan to
swear allegiance to a government that at the time was
having trouble staying open for business. With about
fifty other people from a broad swath around the globe, I
walked in a citizen of another place and walked out an
American. There were several Chinese people like myself
in the group, but I was the only Canadian.

We all came out waving little flags, and the friends that
had come down, braving truly mountainous snowpiles,
clapped and cheered and hugged us. My sister and her
lover were there, and my David was there. We all hugged
fiercely. I admit to letting a tear or two get squeezed
out of my eyes.

"Deedee, how can you get sentimental about who you pay
your taxes to?"

I hid my face in the crisp white cotton of David's shirt,
trying not to cry on his expensive silk tie.

"Thank you, Tammy, for being so understanding. Always the
empathetic one."

"Don't tell me you're bought in on all that chauvinistic
Reagan era crap!"

I was thinking about Hong Kong, and all the stories our
parents had told me about the Communists that they had
fled from. The people and places I had last seen in
childhood, given over to a government that had no concept
free speech, consent of the governed, the right to life,
liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

"It's not crap that you can stand in the middle of a
government building and say what you like about it, and
not worry about the consequences."

John took Tammy's hand. "Can we like, not do this scene?
I'm supposed to take these really nice pictures of you
two smiling and waving those little flags and shit, so
you'se can send them off to your parents with this nice
note about how happy you are, and don't worry about us
here in New York, etc. Let's just forget about this, and
you two stand over here by the thingie on the wall..."

He pointed to the Great Seal of the United States.

"Yeah, like that, one on each side so you cover up the
graffiti. Great."

He raised his camera and started shooting. We forced our
biggest smiles and held up our little flags and waved
them. The tension drained away as he posed us, singly and
in groups, in front of various icons of Americana.

We bundled back up and went out. John took some more
pictures outside Federal Plaza. Tammy and I threw
snowballs at each other, and he took pictures of that,
too. We walked down Broadway, past the glowering bronze
statue of a bull that is one half of Wall Street's
symbology, past the wonderful old Customs House, into
Battery Park. Raw wind whipping across the bay, we stood
for a while looking at the Statue of Liberty. John took
more pictures, until threats against his life, limb and
camera allowed us to retreat from the waters' edge.

We descended into the Bowling Green subway station, and
plotted our next moves. David and I were both in business
suits, so we were going home to Brooklyn to change. Tammy
had decided that she wanted ice cream, but it had to be
from the Baskin Robbins near their apartment, so she was
pulling a reluctant John uptown.

"So where are we going to meet you for your citizenship
dinner, MacDonalds?"

"Fuck off, Tammy. We're going someplace nice, someplace
that stands for everything that is uniquely American."

"Such as?"

"Chinatown."

"Oh, god. Let me guess, Golden Unicorn or Peking Duck
House?"

"Uh, I was thinking of both, actually." Nothing is as
American as excess.

"You are one crazy little Chinese girl, you know that!
How am I supposed to fit in my clothes if I go eat dim
sum and duck with you?!"

"Go work out instead of eating ice cream. Buy bigger
clothes. I don't care. You're too thin, anyway."

Tammy smirked. "You only think so because I'm thinner
than you. OK, we'll let you have your way. But if they
have to take you down in the freight elevator from the
Golden Unicorn, don't say I didn't warn you."

Tammy and John departed uptown, and David and I rode the
number 4 train into Brooklyn. Brooklyn was completely
plowed in, cars buried under mountains of snow,
streetcorners made impassable by walls of snow and wide
lakes of slush. We detoured up side streets to find spots
where people had dug out their cars or driveways had been
cleared, then doubled back, walking in the street.

I closed and locked the door to our apartment. Sitting on
the little bench seat by the door I pulled my boots off.
David stood and peeled the rubbers off his shoes.

"You know I always think you look sexy in that button-
down outfit."

"Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I have to take it
off."

He pulled me off the bench and kissed me hard on the
lips. His hands pulled up the skirt behind me, then slid
across my ass cheeks, pressing me against him. Kissing
him on tiptoe, I could feel his erection against my
belly.

"I mean you look really sexy in that outfit."

"So sexy you have to fuck me even before I can take it
off?"

"Overpoweringly sexy."

"Now that I'm a citizen, don't I get a vote on the
subject?"

"You'll have to hold an erection to vote on that."

"Planning on stuffing the ballot box, are you?"

By this point he had maneuvered me onto the couch and
pulled my sheer nylons and panties down around my ankles.
I pulled his erection out of his pants and played with
him a little in my hands.

"So, you look at these starched and pressed women in
their corporate suits, and you wonder what their ass
looks like, eh?"

I pulled his pants down and sat him on the couch. Kicking
my panties off my ankle, I straddled him. His cock rubbed
against the warm skin along the inside of my thigh,
tickling my pubic hair. I felt butterflies of
anticipation.

"You can't say 'eh' any more. You're not a Canadian."

"In that case I guess I'll have to use your All American
flagpole and let my red hot pussy tease some white come
out of those blue balls of yours."

"Or you could just fuck me."

"Isn't that what I said?"

I took some spit and slicked the head of his cock. He
slid easily into the wet folds of my cunt. I pressed
myself downwards, taking him into me greedily. He felt
huge inside me. As I came down with him fully inside I
whimpered a little from the pleasure of feeling so
filled, so tight around his stiffness. We looked into
each other's eyes and kissed. We rocked a little back and
forth, fully engaged. I could feel his balls against my
skin.

His hands opened my jacket and sought out my nipples
through my blouse and bra. They were obvious, even
through all the layers. His fingers pinched at them, and
my hips twitched in response. He pulled the shirt tails
of my blouse out and pushed the fabric up, not bothering
to unbutton it. When he reached my bra he slipped his
fingers under the straps and pushed the cups up and off
my breasts, not bothering to unhook the clasp.

I suddenly felt very erotic. I was disheveled, half
undressed, exposed. My dark wool skirt covered my legs
demurely, and at the same time I was pantyless, legs
spread wide, filled by the presence of his cock. My hair
was still tightly braided and my glasses were starting to
slide down my nose as we kissed. His hands were warm as
they cupped my breasts, even as the last snowflake melted
behind my ear.

I felt the need to feel him moving in and out of me. I
began to raise my self up and then lower myself again
onto his cock. He locked my nipples between his fingers
so that when I lifted my self up, my nipples pulled
between his fingers, stretching my skin taut. He pinched
at the same time, and then as I came sliding back down
his cock, he mashed my nipples into my breasts, pressing
them inwards until I was sure he could feel my ribs. I
felt a continuous electric tingle of pleasure as he
exercised my breasts.

I knew that as good as I was feeling, David loved getting
fucked this way even more. The pressure of my whole body
forcing my slippery tight pussy down around his cock was
something he couldn't hold out against for long. It gave
me an additional warm glow inside, every time we made
love this way, knowing that he was absolutely helpless to
control his reaction as I fucked him. He would come so
quickly I was reminded of the eager adolescent orgasms of
my high school boyfriends, how quickly they exploded in
my hand or mouth or between my legs.

Indeed, it was very soon that as I eased myself down he
was thrusting up, meeting me halfway, freezing me in
midstroke as his own need to thrust overcame him. I held
myself still, trying to be the perfect receptacle, my
clinging hot walls velvety smooth, ready for his final
thrust deep into me and the shuddering deposit of his
come inside of me.

I cradled his head against my chest as his orgasm
subsided. I rode him a few more times for my own
pleasure, enjoying the extra slippery feeling of his cock
lubricated with his come. Settling down on his shaft
again, I kissed him deeply, as deep as he was inside of
me.

My clothes were growing uncomfortable. I shucked off the
wool jacket. Temporarily, I pulled my blouse down again
so that I could unbutton it. I unhooked the clasp of my
bra and tossed it aside. Reaching behind me, I found the
button of the skirt behind my back, undid it and unzipped
the skirt. I pulled it over my head and put it on the
pile with the jacket and blouse.

Still holding his cock tightly inside me, I undressed
David as well. He offered no complaints or resistance,
seemingly too overpowered by his orgasm to have regained
consciousness.

"Well, now that we're both naked, sweaty and sticky, how
about a nice hot shower?"

He looked up at me with a bemused expression on his face.

"Eh?"

"No more Canadian jokes! Come on, or I'll wash by myself
and make you wait."

I lifted myself off him and our private parts reluctantly
separated. The shower included an appropriate amount of
romantic afterplay, but neither of us was up to getting
serious again so soon. Besides we were meeting Tammy and
John in Chinatown in just an hour and a half.

I got dressed in warm corduroy pants that I could tuck
into my boots. I picked my warmest angora sweater, a
thick black vee neck that looked really nice with the
little string of pearls that David got me for my last
birthday. I was pulling it over my head when I felt him
behind me, his hands tracing the edge of my bra.

"Now, now, no monkey business. I've got to get finished
getting dressed."

He unhooked the clasp.

"Hey! I mean it!"

"Well, I hate to say it, but I think you're just a tad
overdressed for the occasion. Take your arms out of that
sweater and you'll see what I mean."

I complied, and he quickly slipped the bra off of my
breasts. Feeding my arms back into the sweater, he pulled
it down over my body and pulled my hair free of the neck.
The clinging black sweater immediately warmed my skin. My
nipples rose as the angora kissed them endlessly, every
time I shifted. His hands cupped my breasts again as I
sighed. I leaned back against him and kissed him over my
shoulder. His hands moved slowly around my breasts,
sliding the lush angora over my skin. Our kiss deepened.
His fingers sought my nipples through the sweater and
found them, swollen and hard.

"Now doesn't that feel good?"

"Very good. Too good. It feels so good I want to take off
the cords and drag you to bed."

"Then just think about doing that after we come home from
dinner. And every time I look at you across the table
I'll think about it, too."

It was already dark by the time we got to the Golden
Unicorn. Tammy and John were upstairs, waiting for us
before getting seated. Tammy still had her jacket on,
saying the elevator brought in too much cold air to take
it off before we arrived. We all sat down around a table
for four, men and women sitting across from each other.

I looked Tammy over. She was wearing black boots, black
tights, a black skirt, and a white silk shell. Her
shoulders and arms were bare except for the thin strap of
the shell.

"Brrr, I'm still frozen." Tammy shivered in her seat.
Goosebumps crawled up her arms. From the dark nipples
poking against the silk, it was obvious that she was not
wearing a bra.

"You should have worn more sensible clothing."

"It was your party, so I wore party clothes."

"Hey, check out those dumplings!" John's head swiveled to
track a cart of delicacies being wheeled past.

"Where?" Tammy was half out of her seat, leaning over the
table. Her little silk shell fell away from her chest and
her beautiful (even I'll admit they're beautiful) tits 
swung in full view. At least from my perspective they
were in full view, and judging from the gasping sounds
from behind me they were in full view of someone who had
been trying to take a drink.

"Those dumplings look great!" David was looking past
Tammy at the dim sum cart.

I got up.

"Please, don't wait for me. I just remembered I have to
make a phone call."

I stalked over to the phone. First I dialed our home
answering machine.

"Listen mister. Don't you dare spend the evening oogling
my sister. I don't care how brazen she is, there's only
one pair of tits for you tonight. And there won't even be
that if you keep staring at hers."

I hung up and dialed his beeper number and left our phone
number as the message.

When I got back to the table, everyone had at least two
items already, and beer, too. I sat down and Tammy gave
me a little smirky smile and wiggled her fingers at me.

"I took your advice and worked out instead of having ice
cream."

"No wonder John looks so tired." Tammy's idea of working
out probably involves doing pussy squats onto John's
cock.

"Deedee, could you pass the mustard?"

"John was up too late last night playing Wing Commander
IV. I swear they should make a game called Come and Get
Me, that would convince guys to pay attention to their
girlfriends. It would show this guy in a dark bedroom
playing by the light of the monitor, while in the
background the girl lies on the bed and frigs off about a
million times. I'm gonna write a story about it."

David piped up, "There are adult video games in Japan. As
a matter of fact..." His beeper went off.

"Shit. If you'll excuse me." He got up and headed for the
phone.

"So, Deedee, what are you writing about nowadays?"

"Well, I showed you the last chapter of Edit Angel that I
finished. I think I'm going to go back to erotica for a
while. I've got a few ideas that I have to get out of
me."

"How do you think this stuff up?" John asked from around
the edge of a shrimp filled pastry.

"Most writers keep a notepad next to their bed in case
they wake up with an idea. Deidre just hits rewind on a
video camera."

John smiled. "If only there was such a thing. Think of
the money we could make with a DeeDeeCam web site."

"If you two are finished having fun at my expense, I'd
like to try to answer John's question. I like to start
with a single arresting image of a sex act and work
outwards."

"But how do you come up with the original idea?"

"I told you, she hits rewind."

I admit it. I stuck my tongue out at her.

"Maybe you do, Tammy. It helps to think about sex
constantly. For me, it's usually something like I'm
standing in the back of a crowded elevator at work and
that little bounce as the car comes to a stop at each
floor makes my boobs feel funny and all of a sudden I'm
speculating about the erotic possibilities of a bidet."

"So, you just come upon it?"

"The bidet?"

When I said bidet Tammy started to blush, and then she 
smiled, and then she blushed some more. Her nipples
became evident again through her shell.

David sat down again.

"Well, where were..."

Tammy stood up. Her face was still red. She lifted one
arm and pointed at me across the table.

"I'm going to the ladies room. And you're going with me."

John and David exchanged glances over the table as we
stood up. Tammy stalked off and as I followed her, I
heard John mutter. "Uh, oh."

Tammy stood in front of the mirror, picking a strand of
hair off her face. As I came in, she turned to face me.

"Just because it's your party doesn't mean you can
embarrass me in front of everybody!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You think you can tell any story you want to about me!"

"You think you can come on to my boyfriend!"

"You're paranoid!"

"You're not wearing a bra!" I reached out and pulled the
hem of the white shell up and over her breasts.

"Neither are you!"

She reached out and pulled at the sides of my sweater.
The hem slipped out of the top of my pants. She kept
pulling until my breasts were in view. But she didn't
stop. She kept pulling upwards, catching me by surprise.
My arms were up and the angora sweater almost above my
elbows before I knew what was going on. Luckily I still
had a grip on her silk top. I pulled back and away,
freeing my head from the sweater at the same time as I
pulled Tammy's shell over her head.

We were facing each other, red faced and disheveled. Our
tops were bunched and tangled on our linked forearms,
neither of us wanting to let go.

"Slut!"

"Hypocrite!"

"Let go!"

"You let go!"

The door opened.

"SHIT!!" We both pulled and let go at the same time. The
sweater and the silk top fell in a tangle between us. I
reached down and desperately snagged the strap of the
white shell. Tammy tried to snatch it but could only come
up with the arm of the angora sweater before the door
came fully open and an older Chinese woman stepped in.

"Hello? Is there a line for the facilities? I - Oh my!"

I was holding the shell in front of me, trying to recover
some shred of dignity. Tammy had other plans.

"Oh, hi, don't mind us, we're sisters!"

"Yes?" She obviously didn't see how that explained
shouting at each other topless in the ladies room of a
dim sum house.

"And my sister was showing me, you see, how the uh, skin
cream I invented had, uh, faded the age spots around her
nipples."

It's amazing how loud you can be through gritted teeth.

"I DON'T HAVE ANY AGE SPOTS ON MY NIPPLES!"

"See, it works!" She reached over and pulled at my arm.
"Come on Deedee, show her!"

"Oh, yes please, I'd be very interested to see!"

I surrendered to the surreality of the moment. I let the
shell fall away from my chest, exposing my breasts again.

"You see, age spots almost all gone, and just a hint of
the sag that used to be there. Hard to believe that she's
breastfed four children. Of course, they're still not as
firm as mine, but what can you expect?"

"Why, I've breastfed four children. Do you think it could
help me?" In a flash the matron had lifted her blouse and
unsnapped her bra. Her somewhat withered and spotty
breasts slouched into view.

"Of course! Why your breasts are no worse off than my
sister's were six months ago! I'm sure my skin cream
could help. Don't you agree, Deidre dear?"

"It can help at least as much as it helped me."

"What is the secret?"

"My cream is a special combination of a really good hot
Chinese mustard like they serve here, ginger, and ginseng
from a special source. You know the Chinese pharmacy two
blocks down East Broadway? They're the only ones that
carry it. You just mix it together and spread it around
your nipple, and as the age spots disappear, you widen
the circle. You can feel it toning and tautening your
skin as you work it in, and the ginseng helps your sex
drive as well."

"My dear I will just have to try it."

"Well, you could try mixing the ingredients yourself,
since I'm sure that the right mixture is a personal
issue."

The matron nodded and ducked into the stall behind her.
Tammy looked at me and stuck out her tongue. She looked
down at my angora sweater that she was holding in her
arms.

"Y'know, this matches the rest of my outfit." She pushed
her arms into it and pulled it over her head. Taking one
last look at her breasts in the mirror, she pulled it
down over her chest.

"Goodness gracious!" She ran her palms over her breasts.
"Deidre, I would never have thought that a tight-ass like
you would dare to wear this out without a bra on. This
sweater is like fashion foreplay!"

I knew I wouldn't get it back that evening, perhaps ever.
Tammy had never broken the habit of 'borrowing' my
clothes permanently. I had no choice but to slip her
white silk shell over my head. I pulled it over my
breasts and the rough silk pulled my nipples erect. It
was a little too small on me. My breasts stretched the
fabric, making them very obvious, erect nipples or not.

"See, it goes with your pearls."

"But not the cords." It was too short to tuck in right. I
let it stay out.

"Don't worry, David will think you look great anyway.
Loosen up and enjoy yourself! You only become an American
once, you know."

We sat back down at our table. David and John had
obviously sampled a good deal of dim sum while we were
gone, judging by the empty plates stacked in front of
Tammy's and my seats. They looked back and forth at the
two of us as we sat down. I glared at David.

"Not one word."

"Who, me? Was I going to say something?"

John spoke up. He was desperately trying to not look at
my chest, but he was so embarrassed by his inability to
do so that he was also avoiding my eyes, so his gaze
would settle on my breasts stretching the white silk,
then lift about as far as my chin then drift back
downwards again.

"Deidre, you should try this one, it's got nipples of a
breast, I mean it's stuffed with a breasty chicken, I
mean a breast of chicken."

"Sure, I'll try some."

I bit into the dim sum as the elevators opened and
another load of winter air was released into the
restaurant. I felt it run up my spine like icy fingers. I
was momentarily overrun by goosebumps and my nipples,
well, I'm sure you can guess what happened. A lengthening
ellipsis in the conversation spread around the room as
men, including John and David, stopped talking to stare
at me. I swallowed and patted my lips with my napkin, and
held it there, thankful for its cover, until my nipples
fell and conversation resumed.

"I think we should go now."

We put on our coats, but didn't close them. As we got
into the elevator another group pushed in with us. We
shuffled to the back, but more and more people kept
cramming in. I was pressed against the left wall, David
and John against the back. Tammy and I had been standing
next to each other, when a rather large person pushed her
back. She twisted, trying to take up the least space
possible, and found herself pressed up against David.

Perhaps in other circumstances David wouldn't have minded
being forced to endure a cramped elevator ride with a
beautiful Chinese girl's breasts pressing against him.
Perhaps if the sister of the beautiful Chinese girl
wasn't holding one of his hands in a vise-like grip. But
Tammy was obviously enjoying his predicament, and the
feeling of her breasts in an angora sweater mashed
against him.

"So, David, are you going to come..." She gave a little
shiver and a sigh, " ...see me perform at BAM? It'll be
my only performance in Brooklyn this year."

"Well, uh..."

I squeezed his hand and cut in on the question.

"We already have plans."

"To come, of course, to come." He smiled weakly down at
Tammy as the elevator bumped to a stop.

We walked over to the Peking Duck House. It was warmer
there, and the wind didn't blow in the door, and John let
me wear his sensible tweed jacket. I rolled up the
sleeves and buttoned the front and despite the fact that
my breasts were still pushing the envelope, so to speak,
I felt much more at ease. The tweed actually went well
with my cords.

"You look like an English professor."

"Thank you, John."

"One that's really proud of her tits."

"Thank you, Tammy." I was beyond being baited. She could
have lap danced David and I would have not reacted.

We had a very nice duck dinner. Once it was clear to
Tammy that I wouldn't rise to further provocation, she
relented.

"So, it just all of a sudden gushes out of you, does it?"

John was asking me a question, but I couldn't figure out
for the life of me what about.

"John, just because she's older doesn't mean she thinks
her incontinence is a decent subject for dinner
conversation!"

"I was asking about story ideas."

"Oh."

"Well, yes, but it's not even that hard..."

"That's what she said."

John glared at her and she shut up.

"...As Tom Lehrer sang, 'Once correctly viewed,
everything is lewd.'"

"What about that couple in the corner, what's their
story?"

I turned around to see who he was referring to. They were
an older man and a younger woman.

"Easy. She used to be his secretary. They were lovers.
It's over now, but they go out once a year on their
'anniversary'. After dinner they'll go to a fancy hotel
and make love again, for old times' sake."

"How about our waiter."

"He wishes Tammy would storm angrily into the kitchen and
complain that the dish she's ordered wasn't hot enough.
He wants to lift her skirt and pull down her tights and
rub red pepper into her ass. He'll drizzle oil borrowed
from the wok man over his cock, then slide it deep into
Tammy's ass. When he's done he dusts his finger with MSG
and fingers her ass, so in twenty minutes she'll want
more."

"And the cashier?"

"She gets very turned on at the thought of going to the
gynecologist's. Sometimes she's left alone for a minute
with her feet up in the stirrups and she secretly plays
with her clit, but her fantasy is that the staff is
watching her. At home she fantasizes about giving birth,
the tremendous fullness between her legs as the baby is
delivered. She imagines teasing herself in the delivery
room and breathing and pushing and coming all at once,
orgasm and birth mixing together."

"That's a little weird."

"You're making me come up with it on the spot."

We were up to the fortune cookies. David opened his.

"'Never underestimate the power of love.'"

Tammy read hers.

"'At heart all men are bachelors, at heart all women are
mothers.'"

John cracked his open.

"'A golden handkerchief cannot dry your tears.'"

I read my strip of paper.

"'Lucky numbers: 7 17 34 23 5 11"

"And?"

"'You are very close to your true love.'"

The dinner ended with a surprise red, white and blue flag
cake with sparklers. The whole restaurant clapped and
applauded and we belted out a very ragged "Star Spangled
Banner". Afterward several of the staff came over and
asked who my immigration lawyer was. The answer is
Luciana Ostrowsky, if anyone out there needs a good
Mandarin speaking immigration lawyer.

The snow on Mott Street had been pounded into slush,
except for the piles at the curbside. We stepped out into
the night as the first flakes of a new onslaught began to
fall. A city bus rolled through Columbus Circle,
squishing the brown slush out from under it's tires. On
the side of the bus, incongruous, was an ad for sandals.
Tammy cried out and pointed.

"Ha, 'Sam and Libby'! There's fodder for your erotic
imagination, Deidre! What story can you make from that?"

"How about the story of a cold tired Chinese girl who ate
too much and wants to go home now?"

"Not very erotic. You'll have to try harder."

"Not tonight, dear. I have a headache."

"David, sounds like you better change your plans, she's
practicing her line already."

David and I rode the subway home to Brooklyn. It was
crowded, everyone forsaking the taxis and buses and the
snow clogged streets for the underground. I looked at the
faces of the men and women, wondering which I would make
Sam and Libby. It bothered me that I couldn't come up
with an appropriate story for the names. We got home and
pulled everything off and went straight to bed. Well,
almost everything. He wouldn't let me take the shell off.

"No slipping your hands under the angora tonight, I'm
afraid."

He rubbed my breasts casually as I straddled him.

"This would look nice with that wool crepe suit."

"And a camisole and a bra."

I reached under me. He was thick and heavy and warm in my
hand.

"Tammy didn't think it needed those things."

"Tammy... I don't really want to talk about my sister
while I make love."

"Then let me say that it was inspired of you to think of
changing clothes with her. I'm sure John is enjoying the
angora sweater as much as I would, and I certainly
enjoyed watching my favorite pair of breasts this
evening. And I'm really enjoying the way your holding my
cock just inside your pussylips. And..."

I quieted him with a kiss that turned into a low moan as
he slipped further into me.

The straps had slipped off my shoulders. The only thing
holding it up was the press of my breasts against the
fabric. He was nibbling at my nipples through the white
silk. I bit my lip and pushed back. His cock went an inch
further into me. Sam and Libby, who were they? Maybe I
would have worked it out that night, but for the rhythm
changing just then and his teeth catching my nipple just
so that I moaned and he slipped completely into me and my
mind dissolved into pure feeling, the slipping of his
cock in and out of my pussy's hot embrace, my heart
running away as he pulled at my nipple through the silk.

I should have known that night who Sam and Libby were. I
didn't figure it out for almost six months. Now that I've
found out, I'll let them tell you themselves. Thank you,
America. I love you.

"Sometimes men put women on a pedestal."

"Not that we don't deserve it, though."

"What is it that you stand for?"

"The pursuit of happiness, but I've been known to lie
down for it, too."

"You have a wonderful husky laugh."

"You have a wonderful twinkle in your eye."

"I have a thing for strong boned, green eyed women in
sandals."

"You may not believe this, but I happen to like the
distinguished look in a man."

"Like a stovepipe hat and goatee?"

"And white hair. There's something to be said for...
experience."

"Young lady, you make my heart beat faster. But are you
holding a torch for someone?"

"Oh, this old thing. Here, let me put it down for a
moment."

"And I'll put your tablet here next to the pedestal. Is
that all right, Miss...?

"Oh, it's fine. You can call me Libby, I don't think we
have to be too formal. And you're...?"

"Sam."

"Of course. I should have guessed."

"That's a beautiful shift you're wearing."

"Why thank you. There's a catch in the back, you know."

"There's always a catch. You mean this...? It's amazing
how it all comes undone when you just take that one
little pin out."

"I think I'd like to sit here on the pedestal and look up
at the stars."

"I think I'd like to kneel here on the grass and
contemplate your depths."

"Your beard feels so soft on my thigh. Like the night
breeze."

"Just put your arms back and look up at the stars. Don't
let me distract you."

...

...

"Oh, Sam..."

"Libby?"

"It's just that I've never been kissed like that, before.
Is it hard to do?"

"It's not hard to do, though it makes one hard, doing it.
If you take my meaning."

"I've been meaning to take your meaning all night, if
that's what you mean."

"Might I take the pedestal? My knees are somewhat damp
from the grass."

"Sit back as you bid me, and I'll bestride you, and
pursue my happiness and yours together."

 "Oh, Sam..."

"Libby?"

"Is it always like that with you?"

"What?"

"The fireworks."

"You mean you saw them too? No, I think there's something
special about you and me, and tonight."

Sisters Ng: The Virgin Mary Maguire by Deidre Ng 
10/10/97

Father McMartin looked up from his desk as the student
was ushered into his office. His heart jumped a little as
he recognised her. The door swung shut behind her,
leaving them alone.

The uniform should have made her demure, asexual. Instead
it emphasised her smooth skin that showed between the
high white socks and the plaid skirt that hovered at mid-
thigh, her full chest stretching the starched white shirt
that had one too many buttons unbuttoned.

"A little early for the principal's office, isn't it Miss
McGuire?"

She didn't reply. She walked slowly over to the
overstuffed leather chair that was placed squarely in
front of Father McMartin's desk. She sat primly,
spreading the pleats of her skirt before sitting down on
the edge of the chair. Her hands were folded in her lap
and she looked straight forward, cooly and expectantly
holding the principal's stare.

"Mr. Gianelli has already informed me of what happened.
Delivering a science report on the female reproductive
system should not be considered an opportunity for show
and tell."

Her demure pose defalated. She looked at the ceiling and
slowly let out her breath, blowing a lock of auburn hair
away from her face. She let herself settle backwards, the
leather creaking. With deliberate speed, she lifted her
legs and planted her shoes against the edge of the
Father's desk. The carefully spread pleats slipped down
her thighs. The white skin led to plain white cotton
panties.

She stared at the ceiling, seeming to ignore him. Her
legs rested against the arms of the chair. Her hand
slipped between her legs, stroking the panel of white
cloth that covered her pussy. Under the pressure of her
finger, the cloth slid into her crevice, darkening
slightly as it absorbed her moisture. No hair at all
showed around the edges of her swelling lips.

Her finger pushed the cotton into her vagina, and her
hips jerked a little as the taut cloth rubbed against her
clitoris. Her breath caught for a moment as her finger
worked inside her, then was released as she withdrew from
her exploration and returned to stroking the cloth above
her clit.

As for Father McMartin, he could not tear himself away
from the spectacle being played out in front of him. He
sat woodenly, the pulse quick at his temple.

She was near to climaxing. Her finger darted in and out,
moving to the rhythm of her short gasps of air. Her back
arched as the tension built in her body. Suddenly she
took a great gasp of air and sat straight up.

"Why do you call them lay teachers if you're not supposed
to lay them? Not that I would've, of course. I am a
virgin and have no intention of changing." Her finger was
pointed directly at Father McMartin, whose vision of the
hot space between her thighs had been replaced by a view
of her heaving breasts as she leaned forward.

"Miss McGuire, you're behavior is reprehensible. Your
punishment will be correspondingly severe. I believe
corporal punishment is called for."

She let her jaw drop as she widened her eyes. "You don't
mean..." But before she finished the sentence she jumped up
out of the chair, twirled around and bent over at the
waist.

Hands at her hips, she flipped the skirt over her
buttocks. The fabric of her panties had collected in her
crack, revealing the smooth white skin of her ass.
Nevertheless, she peeled the white briefs away until her
ass was naked, and the panties stretched between her
thighs. Her hands slid along her legs, emphasising their
smoothness, pushing the white socks off her calves, until
she had pushed them down to her ankles. She looked up
from between her legs.

"You don't mean a spanking, do you? Oh, Father, I don't
know if I could take such punishment!"

"I mean a paddling that will make you think twice before
trying such impertinence again." He stood up and came
around the desk, carrying a wooden paddle. The wood was
as smooth as her skin, but where her skin was tender and
soft the wood was hard and unyielding.

He looked over her, her accepting posture, the graceful
curve of the ass cheeks, the puffy exquisitely sensitive
lips of flesh that still swelled between her legs. A well
aimed paddle might impart a sting to them at the same
time as it brightened the skin of her ass.

He laid the paddle against her flesh, holding it with two
hands. He let it drift slightly against her skin,
brushing her cheeks, whispering across her exposed lips.
She whimpered. Yes, a good strong smack might strike with
such force as to spread her cheeks apart under the force
of the blow, letting the very pucker of her hole feel the
sting of the hard wood. He pulled the paddle back to
strike the blow.

"Please, Father, surely there is some other way!" Perhaps
there was a note of true desperation in her voice. "I can
be a good girl, I know it. I just need someone to show me
the way. Please, Father, lead me in saying the Rosary, as
only you can."

His arms trembled as some internal struggle was fought
within Father McMartin. In the end, the tension dissolved
from his stance and he put the paddle aside. From the
surface of his desk, he picked up a heavy string of
black, smooth stones, all of a similar size until the
last before the crucifix, which was twice the size of the
others.

He held the string of stones over her ass and let them
drop slowly until they touched her skin. The dark stones
were a stark contrast to her white skin. As he lowered
them, they followed the valley between her ass cheeks.
She gave a little gasp as the cool stones touched her.
Finally he laid the crucifix on her tail bone as the
first stone on the string hung free just next to the pink
crinkle of her hole.

He was sweating now, looking down at her. His hand crept
along the string until his fingers came to the end, the
stone dangled just outside her dark entrance. He took it
and pressed it softly against her anus. She moaned softly
in response. Increasing the pressure, he began.

"Repeat after me..."

Sister Angela Della Croce sat at her desk, just outside
Father McMartin's office. It never ceased to amaze her.
She had expected the biggest troublemaker in the school
would for certain have received a paddling this time.

She thought how she could hear the muffled whump of the
paddle as it connected with the backside of some
unfortunate, but undoubtedly desrving, schoolgirl. Some
of them shrieked, some of them took their punishment
silently, but always she could hear the impact.

It was almost as if she could feel it herself, as if the
tremor was travelling down the legs of the girl and
through the floor and up the legs of her chair until it
connected with her a fraction of a second after it had
with the intended victim. She would give a little start,
jumping a little in her seat, feeling a warmth spreading
where she sat.

Depending on the number of blows delivered, the feeling
could spread quite far. It became quite uncomfortable to
sit there, outside the office door, waiting for the
paddle to fall again. She knew how many to expect for
most infractions of the rules, as did the girls that
broke them. Somehow the last one always took longer to
fall. That was hardest, waiting, the warm tingling
mingling with an electric pulse that throbbed so close
by, waiting for the last blow and the little spark that
flew from the tingling of her ass to the electric pulse
that throbbed between her legs held tight together, as
she held her breath waiting, the flush creeping upwards
inside her.

She would look quickly at the girl's face as she shuffled
out, moving delicately to keep her skirt from brushing
against her ass. Some were sniffling, tears streaking
their cheeks. Some were grim, mouths set. But all were
flushed and red, from bending over perhaps. It matched
the color that had risen in her own cheeks.

She would excuse herself as soon as possible. In the
antiseptic stalls of the toilet, she would try to relieve
the uncomfortable pulse that being forced to listen to
the paddling had brought on.

But this one, that deserved it more than the rest,
somehow always cheated the paddle of its satisfaction,
and thereby, Sister Angela of hers. Instead of the meaty
smack of the paddle, all she ever heard was the girl
saying the rosary in a slow, heartfelt way. She didn't
know what to make of it.

The stones slid from her ass as she sighed.

"Oh, Father, maybe next time I'll let you paddle me,
really."

She straightened and pushed the hair away from her face.
Reaching under her skirt, she pulled her panties
completely off.

"Now for your reward for being such a good
disciplinarian. We'll find out in a minute if you're a
firm disciplinarian, too."

She stretched the panties and fit them over Father
McMartin's head. The thin strip that had been pushed into
her pussy was pressed against his nose. He cupped his
hands over his face and inhaled deeply.

She undid his belt and pulled it out of the loops of his
pants.

"Now, now, that's cheating. You know hands go behind
you." She quickly turned him around and tied his hands
behind his back with the belt.

She sat back down in the leather chair and he kneeled in
front of her. Hooking her legs over the arms, she slid
forward until her exposed pussy was at the edge of the
seat. Father McMartin leaned forward, his tongue pressing
against the white cotton.

"Dear girl, before we start, please tell me how it is
that your sex is so beautifully and completely hairless.
Nothing has aroused me so much or brought me to such
degradation since you first visited my office. Your lips,
so full, so lush, fouled by not even a single hair that
would betray your bountiful womanhood."

"Well, Father, let me give you a choice.

The first version is that when I first began to sprout
hair I was fascinated by how it felt. It was kinky and
curly and spread into a thick vee and flowed around the
sides of my pussy. I would pat it and run my fingers
through it and keep it out of my pussy. But from touching
my hair, I went to touching myself, and my fingers slid
into the delicate slit of my flesh and I discovered the
pleasure of self abuse.

To atone for this sinful pastime I would pull out one of
my hairs each time I had aroused myself to orgasm, since
it was the hair that had led me down that path. Too
quickly, my mound was denuded of cover since I could not
stop stoking the fires of damnation that burned between
my legs. Even now, I examine the soft skin around my
pussy several times a day, plucking out any hair that I
feel, though in the way of examining myself I perpetuate
the terrible act also.

The other possibility is that when I use Nair to strip
the hair off my legs I make sure to lather up my pussy at
the same time. While I wait for the proper time before
wiping the foam away my fingers stroke my clit,
stretching the tension, teasing until I can't wait any
more. Then I wipe the foam away and hold a mirror between
my legs to make sure everything is gone, and as I'm
holding the mirror I stroke my pussy again until I
climax, watching myself in the mirror, watching the
spasms squeeze the juice out of my cunt.

You can believe either one you want. Only one of them is
true. The other I just made up right now. But whichever
is true, you can see by close inspection that I am
perfectly and completely hairless."

He looked closely at her pussy, his eyes framed by the
leg holes of her panties.

Sister Angela was beginning to worry. The girl had been
longer in Father McMartin's office that anyone ever
before. He had a meeting soon. She hoped he hadn't
forgotten.

Father McMartin had slid to the floor, and his wrists
were now lashed to the legs of the chair by his sholaces.
The panties were now a gag in his mouth. His pants were
around his knees.

Mary McGuire straddled him, her skirt covering his head,
her pussy a tantalising inch from his face. With one hand
she stroked his stiff cock, just letting her fingertips
drift up and down the length of it.

"Of course, I have to protect my virginity from things
like this, it won't be going anywhere near my pussy. And
it's got such horrid hairs on it, I couldn't think of
putting it in my mouth. But it doesn't feel so bad to
hold in my hand, don't you think?"

She wrapped her hand around its girth and pulled lightly
up and down. Father McMartin trembled and groaned past
the gag. She talked as she stroked him.

"It's not so hairy near the top. Maybe this time I could
bring myself to lick the head of it, or slip it briefly 
into my mouth. I wonder what the come tastes like, the
moment it spurts so thick and white from inside you.
Maybe I'll find out today." She bent close and breathed
soft and warm onto the head of his cock.

The buzzer erupted on Father McMartin's desk.

"Father? Miss McGuire's father is here for her. It seems
she's acommpanying him to work for a Bring Your Daughter
To Work Day. And you have those members of the Board in
five minutes."

Mary turned around, looking at Father McMartin with a
smile and a sparkle in her eye.

"Sorry, it looks like we can't finish our game today. I
can't keep my dad waiting, he's already late for work as
it is. But you're such a dear, you can keep the panties
this time."

With that she got up, dusted off her knees, and slipped
around the office door, closing it behind her.

"Sister Angela, Father McMartin said to tell you that he
would be spending the next few minutes in prayer, so he
doesn't want any interruptions. But when the board
members arrive, you can bring them straight in."

"Hi, Dad." She pecked him on the cheek. He gave her a
hearty squeeze in return.

"Hows my little Virgin Mary today? Looking forward to
coming to work with me?

She shivered. "I'm so excited. Wouldn't miss it for the
world, Dad. What with everything you've told me about the
absorbing work of a corproate lease attorney, I don't
know how I've stayed away this long."

"Don't worry Sugar Plum, it might seem exciting when you
see the office for the first time, but when you go there
every day it becomes routine. Don't let it get to you,
just act like you do at school, and everything will go
fine."

"If you say so."

They got to the car. There was huge stack of papers in
the passenger seat.

"Gee, Dad, guess I'll have to ride in the back. It'll be
like you're the chauffeur. To work, James!" She giggled
and hopped in. "Can we ride with the top down?"

"Sure, it's a nice enough day."

He started the car as the top pulled back and stowed
itself away. They pulled out of the parking lot of the
school and headed for the highway. As they pulled into
traffic, Mary leaned forward.

"Hey, Dad, can I lie down and get a suntan?"

"Well, you can lie down, but we're going to get there
soon enough that I don't think you'll get much of a tan."

"Okay." She disappeared from his view through the mirror.
Soon one bare leg rose and draped across the top of the
back seat. They drove on for a while.

"Hey, Dad? Do you think if a girl exposes her genitals to
passing truck drivers she's endangering her virginity?"

"Honey, I can't hear you what with the wind and all.
You'll have to hold the questions until we get to the
office. Damn traffic! We're surrounded by trucks!"

At the office, Mary was introduced to the other attorneys
who worked with her father. Other girls were there with a
parent also, but Mary stuck close to her dad.

"Can I help you with your work, Dad?"

"Sure, Pumpkin. See that stack of papers we brought to
work? Those are the terms of a sale and leaseback
agreement. They have to be taken to the office of my
boss, the senior partner. Do you remember who that is?"

"Is he the guy that just smiled when I accidently spilled
some coffee on his pants and wiped it off for him, and
said I looked 'fetching' in my school uniform?"

"Yeah, that's him. Try not to get me in any trouble with
him. Just delive these papers to his office. Tell him
that I've reviewed them and that everything looks fine to
me, except the interest rate spread is an eighth of a
point wider than is usual. Can you remember that?" She
staggered out the door of his office, holding the papers
in both arms. As she weaved down the hall, he called out
after her. "Don't forget, ask if the spread is too wide!"

She opened the door with her foot. When the senior
partner saw who it was behind the pile of paper, he got
up from behind his desk.

"Here, let me help you with that." Together they put the
stack down in the In basket on his desk.

"So your father sent you with these, eh. Probably
violating the Child Labor Act, but I won't tell." He sat
back down in his heavy leather chair and let his eyes
wander up and down over her body.

"Would you like to stay and see how things get done in my
office?"

"Uh, sure! Besides, there's one thing my Dad asked you to
look at."

"What is that?"

She came around the big desk until she was facing him.
She sat on the blotter in the center of the desk and
stretched her legs out to each side. With one arm behind
her for support, she reached between her legs with the
other and opened her pussy lips.

"My Dad asked if you liked the spread as wide as it is?"

His hands trembled as he stared wordlessly, his jaw
working up and down. A definite bulge rose in his pants
where she had spilled the coffee on him earlier. Suddenly
he sprang up and stepped quickly to the door. He closed
it and then slumped against it. He took out a
handkerchief and wiped his head.

"My dear, that is the most tantalising, breathtaking
sight I've seen in many a year. I'd long ago given up
hope of ever seeing in person such smooth young flesh
again. But your father is always going on about his
daughter, the Virgin Mary. I can't believe you're the
same person."

"Oh, I am, and I am a virgin and intend to stay one. But
don't confuse virginity and chastity. I don't think I've
had a chaste day of my life since I got out of diapers.
Now come back over here and sit back down in this big
chair. I've almost had several orgasms today, but somehow
the timing has never worked out. Maybe you should show me
what you're hiding in your pants right now."

He unzipped his pants and brought out his penis. It was
large and covered with grey hairs. She spread her legs
again and began stroking her clit as he sat down in the
chair, watching her, holding his cock in one hand.

"I'm afraid I'll come quite a bit before you, my dear. My
friend here hardly gets to half mast anymore before he
starts coming."

"Really? Soft and coming, that's a combination I haven't
seen yet. Give me your handkerchief." She hopped off the
desk and took it from him.

"We don't want any more drips on the pants, now do we?
You're saying that if I swirled the smooth end of your
cock around in my mouth with my hot little tongue teasing
the dickens out of it, that the dickens will start
flowing out of it before it ever gets hard?" She gave a
little pull as she bent over his lap.

"Y-Yes, most probably. Just the thought of your hot
little tongue teasing my dickens almost makes it come
right now." Holding the base of his semi-erect cock in
the handkerchief, she opened her mouth to take him in.

"Mary? Are you in there?" Her father's voice carried
through the door at the same time as the handle began to
turn.

"Hi, Dad." As her father entered the room he saw his
daughter standing with her hands behind her back,
directly in front of the senior partner, who had
apparently just risen from his chair.

"Hi, pumpkin. You were a little long on your errand so I
decided to come look for you. Is everything OK?"

"Oh, great. I gave the papers to your boss. He's really
nice." Her hands worked furiously behind her. "He was
showing me some of his own work, highly confidential."

All the senior partner could do was smile weakly and
wiggle his eyebrows.

"Sir? And how was the spread? Did you get a chance to
look at that?"

"The, ah, spread, yes. It was, uh..." He seemed a bit
distracted.

"Do you remember how wide it was? I really wanted you to
look into that, tell me if it was to your liking."

"Oh it was fine, splendid, a great spread, gaping wide
open smooth, best spread I've seen in years. I think, oh 
God, I think I I..." Mary's hand gave a few firm jerks.

"Sir?"

"Daddy, he was just saying before you walked in what a
great job you'd done. As a matter of fact, he was telling
me he thought you deserved a promotion for it."

"Sir!"

"Oh, he wanted me to keep it a secret, but I have such a
hard time keeping secrets." She looked behind her with a
sweet smile. "I'm sure you understand, don't you? No hard
feelings?"

"N-No, of course not."

"You see, Dad, your boss is really a softie. He was just
asking me if I would be his summer intern when you came
in."

"Marvelous! Mary, you and I could car-pool with the top
down, all summer long!"

"Yeah, it'll be great fun. Let me finish up here and I'll
be back to your office right away, I promise. My salary
demands are a bit sticky and your wants to make sure he
doesn't violate the Child Labor Act."

"OK, see you soon."

The senior partner found his voice again. "Oh, and close
the door on your way out, will you? Thanks."

The door closed softly. Mary and the senior partner both
let out a long breath. She turned and looked at the limp
cock nestled in the handkerchief, the head covered with
white come.

"Any regrets?"

"I didn't get to see you come."

"I'll be coming the whole summer, don't worry. I am going
to be your summer intern, after all."

She looked into his eyes and smiled, a virginal smile,
but one that was anything but chaste.

Sisters Ng: Letter from Yossi, by Deidre Ng 10/16/97

Hi, my name is Yossi A., and I live in Tel Aviv, Israel.
Like most Israelis, I serve military duty as a reservist.
My assignments are often in the security region in
southern Lebanon. Like most reservists, I hitchhike to
and from my posting alot, but sometimes it's easier to
just rent a car.

Recently, I was travelling with three of the men in my
squad back north from Tel Aviv to Lebanon. We rented a
car so that we could travel together most of the way.
Right in front of me on line at the car rental place was
an American girl. She was a typical tourist, very soft
compared to Israeli women. Naturally, I struck up a
conversation with her. Like most American girls, she was
more than happy to talk to a handsome Israeli guy in
uniform, who was nonchalantly holding an Uzi behind her
in line. It turned out she was renting a car to tour the
north of Israel with two of her girlfriends. By the time
we both had our keys, I had convinced her that she could
get no better tourguides than the four of us soldiers.

Her two friends accepted my offer as well. They were both
soft girls, too. They were Allison, Brittany, and
Crystal, ABC. Typical American names.

We split up. Two of my men, Binyamin and Ilan, went in
their car with Allison and Brittany. Crystal rode in our
car with myself and Moshe.

We rode up the coast as far as Caesarea then went inland.
We drove them all over the map. They obviously didn't
know how to drive in Israel, by which I mean very fast,
and everyone look out for themself. We raced the cars and
cut each other off and had a good time. When we stopped
for lunch the four of us compared notes. We were all sure
Crystal wanted to get fucked. She had looked each of us
over and flirted heavily with Moshe in the back seat,
using the excuse of being hot to open her top and fan
herself with it, giving him a good look at her tits. When
we swerved she let herself fall all over him, giggling
and squealing. The other two were enjoying the attention
we paid them, but we weren't sure if they would be as
friendly as Crystal.

By the end of the day, we had driven them far into the
north of Israel, to Kiryat Shemona. We had dinner with
them and checked in to a small motel there. Our rooms
were next each other, so as soon as we were in, we
started banging on the wall for them to come over.

Sure enough after five minutes, our door opens and in
steps Crystal. She was wearing cutoff jeans and a tee
shirt. We started pounding for the other two to come in
as well.

"You can stop pounding," she said, "they already decided
they were too chicken."

She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and quickly pulled it
over her head. As she pulled her long blonde hair through
the neck of the shirt, we watched her large soft breasts
swing back and forth. She smilied at us, frozen in place
as we eyed her breasts.

"Besides, I'd rather not share." Obviously the idea of
four hard cocks was irresistible to her.

She sat down at the edge of one of the single beds in the
room. She shimmied out of the shorts while we stripped
off our underwear. Now she was alone with four naked men.
Our cocks were stiff and bobbing up and down in front of
us.

She stood up and we crowded around her, kissing her,
stroking her, rubbing our hard bodies against her
softness. I could tell she enjoyed being surrounded by
manflesh, having so many hands touching her at once, a
cock pressed against her belly at the same time as one is
sliding along the crack of her ass, at the same time as
each of her small soft hands is stroking another and
another. She was already panting, and a dew of sweat had
sprung up on her forehead.

My hand was exploring her shaven pussy while another
man's tongue duelled with hers and two other hands played
with her nipples. She broke the kiss and groaned as my
fingers parted her pussylips. She shivered and looked at
me with tremendous desire written on her face.

"Yossi, I want you first. Fuck me right now!"

I looked at her, so soft, so full of desire.

"Fall back!" I shouted in Hebrew, a military order. My
men responded instantly, leaving Crystal standing alone
in suprise.

"Maybe," I said to her, "you think that as commander of
these men I deserve to take you first, or maybe you just
decided you want me first because you like my looks or
how my cock felt in your hand just now, or how my fingers
felt in your pussy. But thats not how things work here.
We are a squad, and we have to work as a team at all 
times. Let me show you how it is with us."

"Squad!" I spoke to them in English for her benefit. "We
are about to enter foreign territory. Reconnaisance
patrol formation, Ilan at point. Binyamin, Moshe, you are
overwatch. I will take the rear."

Ilan stepped forward. He had been standing behind her,
now his hands came up around her again to cup her
breasts. He got to pinch them once before she twisted
around and pressed herself against him, kissing him
passionately. She slid her kisses down his chest as she
fell to her knees, then worked her mouth up the length of
Ilan's cock before swallowing it. Ilan's hands worked
through her golden blonde hair, pressing her forward,
forcing her to take more of his cock.

Binyamin and Moshe stood at either side, watching Ilan's
cock disappear into her mouth. I sat at the one chair in
the room, a little behind Ilan. I could see his muscles
bunch as he thrust his cock forward into her mouth, I
could watch her tongue flick out to tease his cock before
swallowing it again.

He pulled her up before she could make him come. Taking
her by the forearms he pushed her down onto one of the
beds. Her legs came up and she pulled at the back of her
knees to spread herself apart even more. With the
slickness of her spit lubricating him, Ilan slid deeply
into her from the first stroke. She groaned again at the
pleasure of being taken so deeply. She looked at each of
us, as if to make sure we were watching her get fucked,
as if we could have looked at anything else at the
moment. I think she was taking as much pleasure from
being watched by three men as she was by being fucked by
one.

Ilan's balls were tucked up against him like he was ready
to shoot his cum into her. As he pulled out for one last
long stroke, I could see his cock was thick and red,
ready to explode in her. She was thrashing under him,
riding his stiffness towards an orgasm of her own.
Finally they slammed their bodies together, her legs
impossibly open, his cock buried impossibly deep in her.
They writhed soundlessly for a moment as he spent himself
inside her, as she clenched tightly around him. Then they
collapsed. All the tension drained from her as she
settled onto the bed, letting Ilan's cock stroke her as
he shot the last of his cum into her.

For a moment they were still, then Ilan slid out of her.
He got up and sat on her chest so that she could lick the
mixture of her cream and his from his softening cock. She
left her legs spread apart so that we could enjoy a view
of the place Ilan had just been occupying. Her lips were
peeled open, pink, puffy, glistening with her natural
moisture and a thick layer of Ilan's cum. She giggled as
he fed her his soft cock to clean. She took it all and
let him pull it slowly free of her lips. It stretched as
she sucked the last of the cum from his cock-head. Her
head fell back as he pulled free and she licked her lips
contently.

Ilan got up from the bed and immediately fell into the
other single bed. He looked utterly contented.

Crystal looked over at him and laughed.

"He tastes so good, but I suppose I'm not going to get
any more out of him right now. Good thing he gave me some
more."

She licked two of her well manicured fingers and let them
walk from her mouth, between her breasts, across her
belly, before gingerly inserting them into her pussy.

"Guys, I know you're enjoying watching me, I'm certainly
enjoying being watched. Just sit back and watch for a
little bit, OK?"

Binyamin and Moshe looked over to me. I motioned for them
to relax, they'd get their turn. Binyamin leaned back
against the wall, Moshe sat at the end of the bed Ilan
was lying in.

She had curled one arm around her head as she probed her
pussy with the other hand. Her fingers came out sticky
with cum mixed with her juice. Lazily, she lifted her
hand to her mouth and licked her fingers clean. Again,
she penetrated herself, wriggling her fingers around,
squirming a little in delight at the feeling, before
reluctantly pulling her fingers out.

This time she squeezed the load of cum and juice onto her
nipples, letting her nipples squish between the
lubricated fingers. Licking the fingers of her other
hand, she massaged both breasts, pulling and twisting at
her hardening nipples.

Returning one hand to her pussy, she worked her fingers
into her pink slit again. This time, when they came out
lathered with the pearly mixture of her excitement and
cum, she let her fingers tenderly explore the stretched
folds around her clit. She was holding tight to one
nipple, rolling it back and forth as she painted her clit
with the moisture on her fingers. She was just making
contact, sliding one finger across her clit as the others
massaged the folds of her pussy.

She was panting, letting the feeling take her. She looked
around at each of us again, making sure we were watching
her hands moving across her body. Her eyes settled on me,
locked with mine. It seemed to raise the tension in her
to a new level. The hand at her pussy started to move
more vigorously, the hand at her breast kept a constant
pulling tension on her nipple. She started whispering to
me from across the room, not taking her eyes off me.

"Oh, yes, baby fuck me so good fuck me deep thats it so
deep fucking me so good baby yess oh yess fucking me yess
oh oh" At last her eyes rolled up as she came, a series
of gasps for breath matched by her hips twitching
upwards. The walls of her pussy spasmed, pressing out a
new flow moisture.

"Achshav - Now," I motioned to the two waiting men.

She was completely spent. She let them turn her over onto
her knees and elbows. She stretched like cat, flexing her
back. She shook the hair out of her face, her soft
breasts swinging in accompaniment.

Binyamin got behind her, running his hands over her
smooth ass cheeks. Moshe pushed the pillow aside and
knelt in front of her face. The three of them barely fit
all at once on the single bed.

Crystal turned her head and smiled up at Moshe, then
began kissing him across his flat stomach. His cock beat
against her neck, sliding to this side and then the
other. His strong hands kneaded the muscles of her
shoulders.

Binyamin was kissing her ass, biting her cheeks
alternately. His hands were moving up and down the inside
of her thighs. She wiggled her ass appreciatively.

Apparently she was eager to be filled at both ends at
once. She reached back between her legs, searching for
Binyamin's cock. He gave it to her, and after lubricating
the head of it with her spit, and giving it a few strokes
and a squeeze, she guided it into her waiting pussy. Just
a few strokes and Binyamin was deep into her tight cunt.

With her rear filled, she gave her attention to Moshe.
Soon she had his cock sliding wetly in and out of her
mouth, one hand stroking and squeezing it.

Binyamin licked his own finger and started playing with
her asshole. She gave a little sound from her throat. He
pulled his cock out of her pussy and started pressing it
against her asshole. She made a strangled sound again,
but continued to suck Moshe's cock deeply into her mouth.

With a grunt of triumph, Binyamin's cock sunk up to it's
head into her asshole. Her response was smothered by
Moshe's thrusting his cock into her mouth at the same
moment.

She was suddenly completely still, and I watched a deep
red flush spread across her flesh. Binyamin pushed slowly
into her. Each small thrust made her nostrils flare, her
flesh quiver and her breasts shake. Moshe pulled his cock
out of her mouth so that she could breathe, letting it
lay wetly against her cheek. She gasped for breath.

Binyamin couldn't hold out against the tension of his
long wait and the overwhelming tightness of her ass. With
a final quivering thrust he shot his cum into her ass.
She barked a cry in response. She turned her head,
seeking Moshe's cock. He let it slide back into her
mouth.

Binyamin's cock slipped out of her ass, still dribbling
the last of his cum. He rubbed it up and down the crack
of her ass, squeezing her cheeks together around it.

Something had been released in Crystal by being taken in
that way. She grabbed at Moshe's ass, pushing him deeper
into her mouth. She seemed determined to be fucked down
her throat by his cock. He fucked her hard that way,
until he was about to come.

Her head bobbed up and down over the head of his cock,
her lips and tongue stoking the sensitive tissues. His
cock head flared deep purple and suddenly his white cum
filled her mouth to overflowing. She held the fountaining
cock against her lips, pumping it with her hand, letting
the cum paint her face before she ran her tongue around
and around to lick it up. She sucked his cock deeply into
her mouth again to coax the last spurts out, drawing a
moan a satisfaction from Moshe.

The two men tumbled off the bed. Binyamin sprawled on the
cot that had been dragged into the room for us. Moshe put
on his pants and stepped out into the night for a smoke.

Crystal turned over slowly. Her hair was damp with sweat.
A trickle of Moshe's cum ran down her neck between her
breasts. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked
at me.

"Is this how you want me? Do you like your women soiled
and used, licking the cum of another man off their
fingers? They've taken me every way possible already,
what have you left for yourself?"

"It's the perogative of a commander to have things his
way, but its the reponsibility of a leader to look after
the welfare of his men. I will probably never see you
again after tomorrow, but these guys I have to trust with
my life."

I would have treated her to more homespun Israeli Army
philosophizing, but at that moment the first rocket
landed in the fields around Kiryat Shemona. Moshe burst
back into the room.

"Katyushas! From the west!" That meant from inside
Lebanon.

The siren began to wail, warning everyone down into the
shelters that are a sad necessity in Kiryat Shemona. I
threw a shirt to Crystal to wear as Moshe hustled her and
her two friends off to the shelter. We immediately began
warning everyone, banging on doors, rousting the other
patrons of the motel out of their sleep. When the
official wardens came around I went down myself.

The shelter had room for twice the number in it, about
twenty. Everyone from the motel was there, the night
manager, an old woman, and all the guests. My men were
with the three American girls, telling them not to worry.
It didn't seem to help. The air smelled of stale sweat
and fear.

Another rocket fell. We felt its whump through the earth.
The lights went out.

I had been standing by Crystal. She was shivering in my
shirt. The tails barely covered her ass. I took her hand
and drew her away from everyone else clumped up at the
front of the shelter. When I felt the bare concrete of
the back wall I stopped. I turned and held her for a
moment. In my arms her shivering subsided. She stunk of
sex. Whispering, I started to talk to her again.

"Now I will tell you how I like my women. Soft. You see,
after fucking three big Israeli soldiers, you are still
soft. I want you to know that you are not in America.
This Israel, its a hard place. You're not just a
cheerleader fucking four guys on the football team.

"You've crossed over from the vacation fantasy into the
real Israel, the life and death Israel where some of your
friends could be dead tomorrow. Tommorow the four of us
are going to cross over into Lebanon and our assignment
could very possibly be finding the idiots who are
currently lobbing rockets at us. So for now we are
standing here in the dark and we have to make the best of
it. Welcome to the real Israel."

She might have been going to say something but I was
kissing her, hard, pressing her softness against the hard
concrete. She yielded to me, pulling me in. I pinned her
hands over her head, pressing her against the wall,
tasting the saltiness in her mouth. I broke the kiss and
moved my hands to the buttons of the shirt. Her hands
stayed where I had pinned them over her head. She was
panting as I whispered into her ear.

"Now I will tell you that the first rule about fucking in
bomb shelters is be very, very quiet."

She nodded. I finished with the buttons, pushed the shirt
aside and put my hands over her soft breasts. I found her
nipples already hard. I took them between my fingers and
pinched them. She sucked in her breath but didn't cry
out. Maybe we would get away with it, I thought.

We fucked standing. She wrapped her arms around my neck
and her legs around my hips. I held her under the ass and
pinned her to the wall with my cock. Twice the wall
behind her shook from the detonation of rockets as we
fucked. Each time she wrapped herself a little tighter
around me, and my cock drove that much deeper into her.

The slow deep pressure of my cock put her over the edge.
She came. I felt hot tears squeezed from her eyes drop on
my cheek. I covered her mouth with my own to stifle her
cries.

I couldn't hold back my own orgasm any longer. She could
feel it coming in the way my cock swelled inside her, hot
and stiff. I felt her head nodding, encouraging,
accepting. It was an effort to keep quiet as I shot my
cum into her cunt.

After I let her down she turned me around and pushed me
against the wall so that she could kneel in front of me
and suck my cock clean. Her mouth was wonderfully soft,
sucking and licking me clean.

All good things come to an end, even rocket attacks. They
let us out of the shelter after an hour. Crystal went
back to sleep the rest of the night in her own room. Ilan
and Binyamin got the single beds in our room, Moshe got
the cot, and I got to sleep in our rented car.

In the morning Crystal slipped back into our room to
share the shower with us. We each got to feel her soft
mouth on our cocks again. We made sure she got another
mouthful of cum from each of us before she left. We said
good bye to the three of them after breakfast. There is
nothing else to say.

Yossi




ng 08/16/96 9/70




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