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From: darla@accessone.com, ming@ra.isisnet.com (DarMing)
Subject: TRUTH   (bdsm)


Truth
by Ming (ming@isisnet.com)  November, 1996

Needs, or preferences? -- that's the age old question. I've been
thinking lately, that it's two ends of the same stick. Or  maybe that
there is some 'crossover' region. You have certain needs, and I'd prefer
that you have them satisfied. You rely upon me for
that. I too, have needs, and they have become yours -- over time.
That's what we are all about, isn't it?

Are you feeling the pressure of your needs; the weight of my preferences?
I'm not certain. But I know that something is going to happen tonight, 
which means that I am going to make it happen... whatever ³it² turns out
to be. The fact that we are in a public setting---a party--- makes a
lot less difference than once it would have. Is that because of a
change in my preferences, or your needs? Perhaps we shall see.

But the location isn't quite right -- not for what I suddenly have in
mind. With my hand at the small of your back, I guide you to the
corner, a bit more out of the way. You smile at me over your bare
shoulder -- a questioning smile. You wonder what I want. I smile back
at you.

 I know what I want.

It's that dress you're wearing that did it... low cut,  with those little
spaghetti
straps that fall down so easily. I selected that dress for this
occasion and maybe, even then, this idea was swirling
around in the back of my mind. The other thing that has set me off on
this venture, is that we don't really know anybody here. It's one of
those obligatory parties at which nobody seems to know anybody else
very well. Perfect.

We reach a spot in the corner of the room and I survey the crowd --
looking for likely 'targets'. My eye falls upon a couple not far away. She
is
younger and he older, but not absurdly so. She has a sort of look; a
look that I've seen before and think I recognize. I nod to them and
smile. They puzzle their brows and glance at one another, wondering which
of them knows us, and  make their way obligingly to our corner.

We talk the kind of inconsequentials that one does at these affairs, and
have some difficulty keeping him on topic.  He is distracted by you --
the snowy swell of your breasts--- you fill the eye even more than
usual tonight.  His partner -- their first date I have the feeling -- did they
tell me that? No matter. If there was dancing, he would have asked me
by now if he could dance with my lady. Well, maybe he still can.

I lean forward a bit. It gives the illusion of privacy without the
inconvenience of it's substance. 

"Yes, they are very nice -- aren't they?" He actually starts to nod,
before he catches himself. 

"What are?"  I smile a pained sort of 'Please don't bother with the
bullshit' smile.

 "Her tits -- quite lovely in fact, wouldn't you
say?" This is a kind of crossroad, obviously. If I have guessed wrong, 
they may walk away in a huff. We might even have to leave. I wouldn't
like that.

It is a close call. He has started to edge away with a ŒWhat kind of
weird scene have I stumbled into here?¹  look on his face, but she saves
the day -- I might have expected that. 

"Yes they certainly are!" is her remark and it snaps him right back. He has
decided that it's going to be ok after all to admire your tits. Your
eyes have been down since my remark. You are blushing now and
confused. You begin to move to cross your arms over these admirable
assets. But you know better than to do any more than begin.

I take the next step.

 "Would you like to check them out?" His jaw
drops and you flinch. 

"Check them out ...?" is all he can manage as
his eyes flash now to the left and now to the right. _Her_ eyes, on
the other hand, have gotten noticeably brighter. 

"Sure -- you know --
feel them. It's ok, just reach out and hold her by the tits." His
hands move as though remotely operated by somebody behind the heavy
drapes. Tentatively they come up and are filled with you. Your eyes raise
to
mine just for a second then. Just long enough to see mine. Just long
enough for my expression to silence whatever you were planning to say.
Then you look down again.  Now, however, there is something
for you to see. His hands on your tits. Not doing anything yet, but
undeniably _there_. Your blush deepens, which is something I wouldn't
have believed possible. Your eyes close.

He is watching you as much as his own hands on you, and this
eye-closing alarms him.

 "Are you sure this is ok?" She very nearly gives a snort at that. At
least her lip curls as she reassures 

"Sure it's ok -- he told us that already." I nod to reinforce her.

 "She _likes_ it. Go ahead and give them a squeeze!" He does it
immediately,  as though he had been waiting only for my signal. You
wince a bit, and of course he removes his hands right away.

 "I didn't mean ..." he begins... which even he realizes is remarkably silly.
Finally he takes refuge in "I really don't like to do this kind of
thing out in public." I shrug, and look at her. She smiles at me, a
very bright smile, and steps into the breach.

"I understand," I say to him, "why don't you stand here" I indicate a
spot "and that will block the view of the others -- give us a bit
more privacy." An absurd thing to say, I know, but he reacts as
though he has heard a pronouncement of ancient wisdom and moves to
stand in the spot. She is now in position and has her hands full of
you. His eyes are hot, and he is very flushed now. She is not one to
be tentative. She likes the weight of you and smiles delightedly. She
jiggles and bounces you, glorying in the feel. At this handling your
eyes snap open again and you look at me in wonder. I smile at you.

Without removing her hands from you, she leans forward and kisses the
side of your throat. 

"You are a hot little piece aren't you?", she purrs. He flushes at that --
aroused but now a bit angry. Doesn't like the attention ebbing away from
himself.

 "You know I really don't feel comfortable ..." She is quick to knock him
from his high-horse.

"Then don't watch!" she snaps. He turns his back in a huff, and that
suits me just fine. She and I share a conspiratorial smile. She moves
her head closer to me now and whispers "I'm dying to get at her
nipples." I nod. 

"And so you shall my dear!" Then I nod again, this
time at you. You drop your eyes. I can feel you wondering if you can
pretend that you didn't see my signal. I can feel the scalding hot
rush of your submission. It warms me as nothing else can.

Your arms cross in front of you for a brief moment and you slip the
straps of your dress down. All without raising your eyes. She is on
you again in a flash. Tugging briskly. Baring you. I speak to you at
last.

 ³Put your hands behind your back, wrists crossed please,
darling." We don't want any round shoulders now. In this position you
are thrust forward. For her.

She is forceful with you -- taking what she wants. One hand supports
a breast while the other is busy with that nipple. Small pinching
motions as her fingers pluck at you, then she pulls out the nipple
and lets it go. She quickly follows this with the same treatment on the other.
She raises her head then and looks you in the eyes as she holds
you by both your pink, and by now erect, teats.

 "So hard" she sighs, "I love stiff nipples!" She shakes your tits by the
nipples. They jiggle for us once more.

She turns to me, and as she does she gives your nipples a twist. It
might have been an accident that twist, a side effect of her turning
while she is holding her prizes so tightly. But it isn't. She sees
that I know that. She also sees that I am enjoying her plundering of
you. So she gives them a sharp upward tug, bringing you up on your
toes with a gasp. Her mouth opens then and the breath catches in her
throat for a moment. It is this I have been awaiting.

"I'd give anything to suck them." Her eyes plead. He heard that all
right. He begins to turn so he can watch her mouth on you. Who
wouldn't want to watch that? But his duties as our 'guard' turn him
back again. Another knot of people is drifting our way. He makes to
glare at them and they stop -- puzzled. While this has been going on
I have of course realized that her remark was not hyperbole, but
rather an offer. I accept gladly by indicating with a gesture where
she is to stand. She moves quickly, almost leaping into the new
position, never for a moment letting go of you. Then she
simultaneously bends her head and lifts your tits.

It has been wonderful watching you. Your embarrassment. Your pretense
that this is all happening to somebody else. _That_ didn't last past
her beginning the rough stuff. You have always been sensitive there.
I am reminded of that, if I needed any reminder, when I see the tears
in your lovely eyes. Your eyes glisten with them, and with something
else. You are involved now.

I am involved too of course. I am claiming my fee. She gets to make
free with your tits, and I get to make free with her. My hand is
beneath her skirt and between her thighs. Her panties are soaking. I
can easily feel her legs trembling. I decide to do her through her
panties. You never know what is going to be hottest, until the event
is upon you. It would be easy to twitch the panties aside -- easy,
and not nearly as hot.

I stroke the soaking material along the crease of her puss -- lightly
at first, as she devours your pink confections. She is vocalizing in
the most extraordinary way now -- a sort of high-pitched whining
sound. And the sucking noises of course -- they are quite loud. She
seems to be sucking in as much of your tit as she can without choking
herself, while her busy fingers worry the nipple that is not in her
mouth. I continue to stroke her as she suckles, still softly. Your
chin is up and your eyes half closed. You rise once more on your toes
in an attempt to satisfy her -- a vain attempt, and your head is
finally tilted right back. She switches to the other nipple and her
fingers capture the one now gleaming with her saliva. Her arousal is
now at such a high level that she thrusts back against my hand
without the least awareness that is she is doing it.

Ipush two fingers into her, taking the panties with them, and she squeals
around her mouthful of you. You make a sound too. With
her teeth into you, the way they are, it would be amazing if you
didn't. There are sure to be tooth marks, I think with the most
profound satisfaction. Some spark of awareness makes her release you
then, just as her orgasm hits her. It comes as a surprise to her and
to me as well. I was hoping for a bit longer, but I am happy with
what we have achieved. It is my hand between her legs that holds her
up finally as she shakes with the force of it. All my strength is
needed for that. It is in a good cause. Her eyes roll up and she
makes a sort of strangled snorting sound. Very satisfactory indeed!

It's too much for him of course and he turns about to see what is
going on. We are ready by then. My hand is on her hip --
over-familiar no doubt but not over the top, given that she has been
fondling you. And you have your dress back in place. The only sign of
what has happened is the saliva on you. Strings of it across the tops
of your breasts. For all anyone knows, you could have spilled a
drink.

I extend my hand and he takes it automatically, with surprise on his
face.

 "Thanks very much old chap," I intone ironically -- lost on
him, "it's been a great pleasure." That isn't lost on him, and his
eyes widen. "But we must be on our way now." Several emotions play
over his features, relief being the most prominent.

 "Of course." he says "Glad to have met you." he says. I smile at that,
though he does not. You give her a polite peck on the cheek and smile at
them both, saying nothing. It seems to awaken her all at once. 

"Wait!" she calls after us in a breathy voice. "My phone number!" I pause
and you with me. It isn't a long pause. Her orgasm was satisfactory but
certainly
no more than that. I look at you then and you roll your eyes upward
slightly. I speak to her over my shoulder as we continue out. 

"I think it's best this way, don't you?"

By then we are out of the room and I cannot hear her answer, if any.
You are holding my arm as tightly as you can but it isn't for
reassurance. It isn't because you need my support. You want me to
hurry. You want to get home as quickly as possible while this is all
still fresh for you. And I want that too. 

I like to see to your needs.

-- 

bdsm fiction/guest book/salon:
http://www.ourhouse.org
Ming and Darla

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