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From: Slowhand Luke <slowhand@dial.pipex.com>
Subject: [story] The Book
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Disclaimer:  This story is sexually explicit and should not be read by 
anyone who is under age, easily offended or just plain prudish.  That 
said, it is not as bad as that might make it sound.  Enjoy!

THE BOOK

By Slowhand Luke


The book was small and on first sight unremarkable.  The dark cover had 
an unusual satiny feel, though, and the picture on the front was of a 
semi clad couple clinched passionately together.  They had models' looks 
and the embrace was obviously posed, but the softly focused, artistic 
black and white print managed to be erotic all the same.   I stared at 
it, then back up at Katie, and my face must have been a picture because 
she laughingly reached out and pushed my mouth shut for me.

"It's just a book," she said. "I hope you're not shocked."

"Shocked?"  I hesitated. "No, not shocked...  a little surprised, maybe."

"Don't tell me you've never seen one," she grinned impishly, her voice 
slightly mocking.  I had to laugh along with her.

"Uh, no, I couldn't claim that - I have several in my own collection.  I 
guess I just wouldn't leave them out on the coffee table.  Or even up on 
my wall"  I glanced meaningfully at hef bookshelves, where I had noted a 
number of similar volumes, some of whose titles I knew well.  

"Oh," she said breezily,"I don't care.  People can think what they like, 
and usually do in any case.  If anybody's bothered by them they can 
always leave.  Chances are they either never read one or are such a prude 
I wouldn't miss their company anyhow.... I think most people are excited 
by the idea - on the inside, at least.  Don't you agree?"

"Well, I know I'm excited," I smiled suddenly, an impish note creeping 
into my voice,"but that may just be the company I'm keeping." 

She returned the grin. "Cheeky," she reprimanded, sounding more pleased 
than upset.  Then she surprised me by leaning forward to kiss me briefly 
on the lips.  My heart beat loudly as my arms moved, seemingly without 
conscious direction, to embrace her.  She pulled away, however, placing a 
hand lightly against my chest.  "Not yet," she said, her eyes smiling up 
at me.  "Let's wait."

Spoken in another tone, those words could have spelled doom, at least as 
far as my amorous ambitions for the evening were concerned.  Half 
whispered, however, with  _that_ expression on her face, they were a 
promise.  I smiled back at her.

She paused for a minute, her expression becoming thoughtful as I just 
stood there, waiting for her to speak.  Eventually she seemed to reach a 
decision.  "I think I'd like you to read for me," she said.  To leave me 
with no doubts as to what she meant, she took the book from my 
unresisting hand and pressed it firmly against my chest, pushing me back. 
 

"For heaven's sake sit down," she said. "You're making me nervous."  Then 
she disappeared into the kitchen.

Well if she was nervous, I was a trembling wreck.  I was worried my hands 
were shaking so much that I wouldn't be able to open the book, much less 
read from it.  I collapsed onto one end of the sofa, trying to compose 
myself as I waited for her to join me.

She didn't.   Returning from the kitchen, Katie passed me a glass of wine 
then passed up the opportunity to sit next to me as I had hoped, electing 
to arrange herself prettily in the armchair opposite instread, with her 
legs tucked up underneath her.  As she sat I found myself watching the 
hem of her skirt ride up, straining for a glimpse of thigh, a flash of 
white panties - anything.  But nothing came.  She was perfectly modest 
and demure and I berated myself inwardly for such childish thoughts.

"Well?"  she said, sipping from her own glass of darkly coloured red 
wine.

I hesitated for a second before opening the book and starting to read.  

As my words flowed out, finding their own rhythm and cadence, Katie half 
closed her eyes and snuggled languidly into the well padded chair.  A 
smile played over her lips as the story quickly moved from the mundane to 
the arousing and from there to plain eroticism.

My mouth was drying out quickly as I read.  Although this type of 
material was not new to me, the experience of reading it aloud to a 
beautiful, sexual woman and watching the signs of her arousal grow 
steadily as the story progressed was a revelation.  Partly embarassed, 
partly confused but quickly becoming desperately horny, I made the best 
job I could of it, moistening my throat frequently with short sips of 
wine. 

As the wine took hold, I could feel a flush spreading up my face, as it 
always does.  Katie's cheeks were also looking a little more colourful 
than they had been to begin with, the blush made her strong features look 
even prettier than before.  Then, as the story took yet another erotic 
turn, she unfurled her legs from unerneath her, settling her feet 
deliberately on the floor.  Her hand drifted dreamily down to her thighs 
and she calmly drew the hem of her skirt up past her hips.

If I was surprised by this action, I was astounded by the view.  As the 
cloth veil drew past the tops of her lovely thighs, she was revealed to 
be entirely naked underneath.  No panties, no pubic hair, nothing.  
Nothing to impede my view of her softly rounded delta, or the puffy pink 
lips dividing its centre.  Now, I am not normally bothered one way or the 
other about whether a woman chooses to shave herself there.  It is 
certainly no prerequisite for sexiness.  But on this one occasion her 
bare pudenda made the effect of her sudden and unexpected revelation 
shocking and electrifying in its intensity.  My cock, already reacting to 
the eroticism of the situation, just seemed to jump inside my pants, 
demanding freedom in a way that almost made it too uncomfortable to 
refuse.

Gazing directly into my eyes, Katie parted her thighs a little and placed 
the tip of one finger directly onto her clit, without any lead up or 
preamble.  I saw a shudder run through her body and, as it subsided, she 
began to move the finger in lazy circles, rubbing it over and around the 
fleshy hood.  She had not touched her labia yet, and they remained sealed 
closed, although a few glistening hints of moisture were beginning to 
show through them.

Much as I would have liked to simply sit and watch Katie pleasuring 
herself, I felt somehow obligated to facilitate her enjoyment by 
continuing to read.  It had been what she asked for, after all.  But I 
lowered the book to keep her in my field of vision even as I read, and 
found myself memorising sentences so that I could glance up at her 
without losing the flow of the story.

As her breathing became ragged, it was clear that her initial circular 
movement was no longer suffiecient stimulation.  Her fingers began to 
make little darting forays over the whole area of her sex, touching and 
stroking everywhere, but always returning to dab at her clit.  She ran 
one finger up the length of her pussy, sliding her labia open like a 
zipper.  The soft petals of her sex fell open at her touch, revealing a 
gleaming caevrn of warmth and moisture, into which she slowly pushed 
first one finger, then two.

Looking straight at me again, she spoke, her voice low and intense, "Let 
me see you."

Smiling, I put the book aside and drew down my zipper.  Whilst it would 
sound good to say that my erection sprang forth immediately, it was 
actually much too erect, and much too entangled in cloth to do so.  When 
I reached inside and retrieved it, however, it slapped rigidly against my 
belly and then stood there, quivering.

"Carry on," Katie indicated the book, "and touch yourself as well.  
Masterbate with me."

This was almost too much.  Reading with one hand, my page changes were 
left swift than they might have been, but the pleasure coursing through 
my veins as I stroked my trembling shaft must have leant an extra edge of 
desire to my voice.  Katie was watching me and wanking abandonedly, 
working her clitoris and vagina with the thumb and fingers of one hand, 
whilst squeezing her breasts and pinching her nipples through her shirt 
with the other.  Her eyes were locked onto my groin, and she began to 
match the rhythm of her movements to my own.  Then, deciding it was 
superflous, she shrugged out of her shirt and threw it aside, before 
returning her hand to her straining, swollen nipples.

She moaned softly as her hand closed over her breast, squeezing it ans 
lifting it in her palm, squashing it up against her chest.  I could tell 
that she was pretty far gone, and the thought made my blood race, 
stiffening my cock still further in my hand until it felt as though it 
were straining out in a vain attempt to touch the ceiling.  The story was 
becoming more adventurous and explicit with each passage I read, and I 
felt my throat going dry once more as the heroine allowed herself to be 
taken outside in her garden in full view of her neighbour's window, 
imagining his eyes upon her.

Her partner in this act was the fairly typical infuriating yet 
irresistable rake that these stories tend to churn out, but his passion 
leaned rather more towards the forceful than was normal.  The sex 
described in the garden was fierce and uncompromisng, and I almost 
stopped reading despite my arousal when he held her down and plunged into 
her despite her protests about being seen.  A single glance at Katie's 
face told me that that would be the wrong thing to do, however, and I 
pressed on even as he turned her roughly over and screwed her forcefully 
from behind, smacking and slapping on her buttocks as he did so.

In the story, the heroine's responses were a welter of conflicting 
emotions and sensations.  The contrast between the pain of his blows and 
the pleasure she felt in her loins was reflected in the emotional 
conflict between her anger at his presumption and her own thrilling 
response to his passion.  It was a wild passage that took me outside the 
boundaries of my own comfortable, familiar fantasies.  I was desperately 
aroused by it, but I was concerned about what Katie's reaction might be.

I found out soon enough when she dashed the book from my hands and loomed 
naked above me, her breasts swaying in my face.  Without a word, she 
reached through her legs from behind, grabbed my erection and just sat 
straight down onto me.  In a single instant all thoughts of the pleasure 
I had been giving myself were wiped from my mind as she eveloped me in 
warmth and moisture and passion. Tangling her hands fiercly in my hair, 
she kissed me deeply and strongly, forcing her tongue between my lips and 
taking possesion of my mouth.  I felt a surge of passion almost scary in 
its intensity and responded in kind, our tongues fighting a battle of 
supremacy as we fenced back and forth between our mouths.

Caught up in a maelstrom of passion and desire I felt my normal 
inhibitions being ripped apart in a frenzy of lust as I stood, lifting 
her with me, using my strength in a blatant way that I would never 
normally dream of.  Breaking away from my kiss, she wrapped her legs 
around my hips and  seized my shoulders. using the leverage to jerk 
herself backwards and forwards on my cock, almost snarling at me as she 
made it perfectly clear that it was she who was fucking me, and not the 
other way round.

Rising to the challenge, if challenge it was, I half threw her to the 
ground, landing heavily on top of her as I pushed once more inside.  She 
squirmed beneth me, legs still lock around my waist, still humping her 
hips frantically against me, using the bump of my pubic bone to grind 
against her clitoris in her desperate search for satisfaction.

Seeing colour beginning to wash over her face and chest, I knew that her 
climax was approaching fast and I drove into her as hard as I could, 
wanting to hear her cry out as she came.  My hands scrabbled over her 
body as I embedded myself as deeply inside her as I could, squeezing her 
breasts and tugging on her nipples, then sliding down to clutch at her 
bottom, drawing her hips off the floor to meet my thrusts.  She groaned 
deeply as our pubic bones meshed, and I felt my cockhead bump lightly 
against the entrance to her womb.  At that, her whole body shuddered and 
she gasped aloud.

'Oh! Mmm! Yes - Deeeeperrrr!'

Only too happy to oblige, I swiftly shrugged her legs up onto my 
shoulders, then leant forward, pressing her knees in towards her chest.  
I took my weight onto my hands and pushed slowly, firmly back inside her. 
 This time the contact with her womb was firmer, more definite, and I 
moved my hips from side to side a little, loving the feeling of that 
contact, and the thought of it as well.  From here, I could shoot my seed 
directly into her womb...

This grinding motion drove Katie crazy, and she beat upom my back with 
her hands, practically sobbing 'Fuck me!  FUCK ME!'

Taking a breath and gathering my energy for a final rush of extertion, I 
drew my hips back slowly, just a couple of inches and immediately began a 
rapid jackhammer motion into her, never pulling back more than a couple 
of inches, and feeling myself banging at the entrance to her womb at 
every thrust.  She moaned loudly, and so did I.  The feeling of her soft 
warm moisture all around me was incredible, and the walls of her pussy 
started to spam around me in a series of juddering climaxes, I thought I 
had died and gone to heaven.  

Wanting to make this last as long as I could, and needing to draw back 
from the imminent brink of orgasm, I sat up, her legs still draped over 
my shoulders, and began to kiss and lick her ankles as I caressed her 
legs with my hands. The rhythmic motion of our hips slowed a little as 
she recovered from her climax, and I could clearly see the strawberry 
blushes colouring her face and chest.  I stroked her calves and thighs 
softly, then slipped my hands down to her buttocks, where I formed them 
into into claws and dragged them over her soft flesh, nails scratching 
her as my fingers dug in. 

Katie let out a shreik as I clawed at her buttocks, writhing under my 
grasp.  Then her head shot up and she locked her eyes on mine.  'Hit me,' 
she said.  Her voice was very quiet amidst the tumult of our passion.

I blinked once, stupidly. 'What?'

'Hit me,' she repeated, her voice louder this time, her teeth clenched in 
an expression of challenge, desire, frustration, what?  I didn't know.

But I did know that she had slipped her legs from my shouders and locked 
them around my waist and was squeezing with all her might.  I did know 
that the air was being forced from my body and at the same time the 
pressure of blood in my loins was rising to a dangerous loins.  And I did 
know that if hitting her was what it took to make her stop, then so be 
it.

My first blow landed on her buttock with a cracking sound that made me 
wince, and I regretted it instantly.  I was about to appologize, when I 
saw the fire blazing in her eyes as she redoubled her efforts to squeeze 
me in two with her legs.  Her look was eager, needing, even longing and I 
deliberately drew back my hand and hit her again.

Now I wasn't hitting her hard, at least not with all my strength, but I 
was still amazed that she could be enjoying it.  Still, her moans and 
sighs as I beat out a steady tattoo on her reddening flesh told me that 
she was... and in a secret, rarely visited corner of my soul I was 
startled to discover that I was enjoying it too.  I felt the most 
incredible sense of dominance and control - not things I am usually into, 
but suddenly I had some sense of where dictators and megalomaniacs of all 
colours get off.  For this monent, for the duration of this act, she was 
mine.  I was hitting her, causing her pain and she was loving it and 
wanting, demanding more. At the same time her amazing, moist pussy was 
pracitically devouring my cock and seemed to be trying to milk the cum 
out of me.

 On a whim, with a jump of intuition that made me proud, I started to 
talk to her as well.  A part of me could hardly believe I was hearing my 
own voice as my mouth started to spew out the nastiest, most depraved and 
humiliating things I could think of.  Thoughts I never even admitted 
having to myself.  Her eyes open wide as she listened to my foul, 
swearing rantings and she strated to cum with a spasm that I thought was 
going to break me in two.

That was it.  I was finished.  Abandoning my ministrations to her 
buttocks, cutting short my strident tirade, I dropped once more to rest 
on my hands and knees as I pressed my chest against hers, held her tight 
in my arms and fucked her earnestly and tenderly, riding the waves of her 
lingering orgasm until I too mouted the upper slopes of bliss and emptied 
my very spirit deep inside her womb.

As our bodies stilled, hearts still beating har, and our breathing in 
perfect synchronicity, we lay there, unspeaking.  

There simply were no words for what we were feeling.

For myself, I was reverberating between a deep seated guilt for behaving 
in a way I would never have thought myself capable of, for taking 
pleasure in a way that I had always thought of as harmful and wrong, and 
a passionate joy at the most incredible ecstatic bliss I had ever felt.  
These emotions swirled within me for a long time before I finally 
withdrew from her, more because I felt I should than from any particular 
desire to do so.  As I went to sit up, Katie grabbed my neck and pulled 
me to her for a deep, passionate and intimate kiss that told me more than 
anything she could have said would have done.

We got pleasantly drunk that evening together that evening and enjoyed a 
pizza straight from the delivery van before retiring to bed for a night 
of sleep and comfort, I nursing bruised ribs and the long scratches her 
fingernails had scored down my back without me even noticing... and she 
trying not to let her buttocks come into contact with anything, and 
moaning every time one of her rather nasty looking carpet burns rubbed 
against the sheet.  

When we finally drifted off, we had still said nothing about the earlier 
part of the evening.  We did talk about it later, though and it seems 
that we had been as shocked at each other by our own behaviour.  This 
sort of thing does not make up a big part of our sex life now - the 
obvious drawbacks were the scratches and the bruised ribs and carpet 
burns, which lasted weeks.  And in any case, we just generally prefer to 
be loving and tender with one another.  But that night is certainly one 
that we will both always remember, and the book bears pride of place 
above our mantelpiece.


Comments/thoughts suggestions to:  Slowhand@dial.pipex.com
More fiction from Luke, as well as Taria, Summer's Rose, Gregarious and 
others can be found at his FREE website (No, really - it is free, 
honest!)


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