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From: "E.Z. Riter" <ezriter@hotmail.com>
Subject: {EZ}MyInheritance2  I Meet Andy (MC, everything)
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The attached work of fiction is intended to be entertainment for
adults in locations in which it is legal.  If it is illegal in your
location, DO NOT read.  This is a copyrighted work.   Reposting or any
other use strictly prohibited without the express, written permission
of the copyright holder, except may by posted as part of a  review or
posted to free-access archive sights.

Copyright 1998 by EzRiter.

Email address: ezriter@hotmail.com

This is a mind control, multi person romance, with a planned thirty
plus chapters.  Please give me your comments. 


MY INHERITANCE

Chapter 2

I Meet Andy


Back on the road, my thoughts again turned to Uncle Bert and all he
and I shared. The Stevens women were not the only ones we bonked
together, for bonking seemed to be Uncle Bert's favorite past time and
it quickly became mine.  In fact, I hated going home at the end of
each summer.  It was like going into a monastery after being with
Uncle Bert.  

He and I shared other things, too: trips to Europe; a cruise down the
Amazon; Bangkok, which I still believe is the most honestly named city
in the world; and, many more adventures.  Uncle Bert was always
teaching me, demanding of me, guiding me, helping me grow in every
way.  He always did it with love.

Sometime during the drive, I remembered meeting Mary Mathews.  She had
been one of Uncle Bert's women, a special woman really.  I could not
remember meeting Andrea.  I got off I-70 in Vail and found Uncle
Bert's house.  The place looked like no one had been there in a while.
I locked it up, got a cone at Baskins-Robbins in the Crossroads and
hit the road again. At Glenwood Springs, I turned north and drove to
his ranch house, one of three he left me.

The house was cold and lonely, a vast empty space that seemed foreign
and unwelcoming.  I had spent fifteen very wonderful and enriching
summers there.  To be there without him did not seem possible. Since
it was cool, even in early June, I built a fire. It was going to be
heavy emotional stress going through all his stuff, giving away his
clothes, and all the things you do after a loved one dies.  I was not
looking forward to it.  

I puttered some before I remembered his instructions in the note the
lawyer gave me.   When I called the number, a woman answered. 

"This is David Wilson. May I speak to Andy, please?"  

"Where are you?" she replied. 

"At my Uncle's house." 

"Stay there. Do not leave."  

She hung up.  Strange. It was so curt and impolite.  I wondered who
the hell Andy was. 

I got a beer from the frig and started to rummage through the big
desk, looking for things that may be important.  

I never heard the door open. 

"I have a gun. Do not move."  I froze. It was a woman's voice. 

"Look . . . " I said.  

"Shut up!  You should know I am a crack shot. I have a Colt .38 Police
Special.  I could take off your left nut without making the right one
quiver." 

I grabbed my balls and whimpered involuntarily, thinking of one of my
beloved little jewels being blown away.  I decided to be very obedient
until I figured out what was going on.

"I have money if you want it."  There was no answer.  "What do you
want?"  Still, no answer. I started to turn.  I heard the gun being
cocked. The hammer being opened and locked in a revolver is a very
distinctive sound that is never forgotten. I froze again.  I felt
something being placed on my shoulder.

"That is a blindfold. Put it on securely, so you can see nothing."  I
complied with this unknown assailant. 

She said, "I will ask questions.  You will answer them quickly and
honestly.   Understand?"  

"Yes." 

"Who are you?"  

"David Wilson . . .   David Bertram Wilson." 

She began asking a series of personal questions: age, birth place,
social security number, relatives, and so on.   

"Give me the full name, date of birth and social security number of
Bert."  It was a strange question. I thought back two summers when
Uncle Bert made me memorize that information. Then, she asked
questions that dealt with Bert and me as if she had been prompted by
him to seek information only I would know.

Sometime during this interrogation, I realized her voice was no longer
the harsh, demanding sound I heard when she first came in.  It was a
soft, sexy, teasing woman's voice. 

"Walk to the wall," the voice ordered.  Of course, I did.  

"Now, strip." 

"What!"  

"Do it!" she yelled. I did it.  

"Now, the boxers!"  Down they went. 

"Lean against the wall and spread them!"  

I heard her walk up behind me. I felt the cold gun barrel in my back.
Then, I felt soft female fingers and the scraping of her nails on the
cheek of my bare ass. That made my cock twitch in spite of the
situation.  She was obviously looking at my tattoo.  That was
something else Uncle Bert and I did together. 

We had been in Denver, getting supplies and taking in a couple of
Rockies games. We got plastered one night, went to his favorite whore
house and then, got our asses tattooed. His was a skull and cross
bones; mine was a rose.  

"Cute butt," she said as she stood up. I heard her step back a few
feet. 

"OK. I believe you are David. Follow the rest of my instructions and I
will release you unharmed.  Walk back to the desk, lay down on the
floor face up."  

I did.  I felt something cold and hard hitting my stomach. 

"Those are handcuffs. Put them on your wrists attaching yourself to
the table leg."  

Now, this was crazy . . .  but, I was beginning to believe it was
crazy good, not crazy bad.   I felt around and found the leg. I
attached myself, table leg between my arms.  I felt her hand on my
ankle, then, the locking of a cuff around it. Quickly, my legs were
cuffed together. My prick was that half hard state it gets when your
mind is not sure what is going on.  It was totally quiet. 

Then, I felt her mouth on the end of my cock. She was sucking the cock
head, her tongue flicking like a snake's against the eye. Suddenly,
she swallowed me . . .  deep throated . .  .  in to the balls.  I felt
her throat muscles massage the head of my cock and her tongue active
on the shaft. As quickly, she was gone, leaving my cock suddenly cold
from the air.

"No," I whimpered.  Her tongue was in my mouth, a long, hard demanding
kiss, her lips soft, her breath hot. When she broke it, I gasped,
"What are you doing?"  She giggled, a soft, sexy sound like bells
ringing . . .  not church bells . . .  brothel bells, if you know what
I mean.

"I am going to fuck you until you cannot walk.  I am going to take my
time, enjoying every minute, every touch, every sigh, every twitch of
your cock as I bury it somewhere in my body.  I am in no hurry. And,
you obviously are going nowhere."  

"Who are you?"  

"I am the woman of your dreams, the woman who loves you without
hesitation or restriction, the women who will do anything for you,
will bear your children and devote her life to making you the happiest
man in the world."  

"What is your name?"  

"No more questions now," she cooed as her fingers scraped my balls. 

I heard a zipper and sounds of clothes being removed.  

"You have a magnificent cock," she said.  

"Thank you," I replied. 

"Oh, no. Thank you!" she murmured as she lay down on top of me,
trapping my cock between her thighs.  I felt large, soft breasts
against my chest, the nipples hot and hard, like little diamonds
against me. She snuggled, her head in the crook of my neck, her breath
soft against my skin. 

"Would you like to touch me, to feel my breasts, squeeze them, make me
whimper in my desire?"

"Yes," I croaked. 

"Would you like to fuck me, burying that huge cock in my pussy,
filling me with your cum?"  

Migod, her voice was sexy and hot.  "Yes," I moaned envisioning doing
just that.  

"Later," she giggled as she tongued my ear. It was not really a year.
It just seemed that long as she touched me, caressed me, squirmed her
delicious body against mine, letting me feel her softness, her heat.
She began kissing me, her tongue and lips teasing me.  Finally, she
took me in her mouth again.  I was so hard I was in agony. I felt my
orgasm starting. She felt it, too, pulled her mouth away and squeezed
my balls to stop it.

"Please, don't torture me," I moaned.  

She lay beside me, my cock in her hand as she suckled my nipple. She
was quick, slamming her cunt into my face.  She was running like a
faucet. She mashed her pussy into me, covering my face with her juice,
then she was gone. 

"What happened? Where are you?" I gasped.  There was no noise, no
movement. 

"Where are you?" I called loudly, thinking she might have left me. 

She sucked my big toe into her mouth. I felt her nails on my souls,
tickling lightly. I tried to pull away but she increased the pressure.
I yanked my leg.  

"Ouch!" I cried as she slapped my thigh hard. 

"Be still!" she demanded, "Or, I will walk away and leave you here."  

"Don't do that!"  

"You would not like that, would you?  To be left, bound and hard, not
being allowed to cum. Not knowing what I look like.  Not being able to
put your hands on me.  Who am I, David Bertram Wilson? Who is this
woman who has bound you? Is teasing you?"  

Silence again with only the pounding of my heart audible to me.  My
cock was twitching.   My balls ached.  My mind was reeling with
desire, with fantasies as my cock stayed rock hard. I felt her mouth
on the head again.  She licked down my cock to my balls which she took
in her mouth.  She began to hum. The vibrations were more than I could
stand.

"Look, bitch! I want to cum and I want to cum now!"  

You might think this was a strange way for a bound man to talk to his
gun totting captor but my nuts ached really badly. 

"Why didn't you say so?" she whispered.  I felt her legs cross mine.
She buried my cock in her cunt. Her hips did not move. She leaned
forward, brushing her breasts against my lips as her internal pussy
muscles massaged my cock as if it were a fist.  I began to quiver.

"Give me your cum, Davy. Fill me with your spunk. God, I love your
cock in me. Now!  Come on! Do it, you sonofabitch! Fuck me!"  

I screamed as my pump went off blowing my load deep in her. She milked
me as I had the strongest orgasm of my life. I felt her collapse on
me, breathing hot and heavy as I was.  Our skin was sweaty, the odors
that strong wonderful smell of sex.

"Feel better?" she asked.  

"Yes."  

"Good. I want you to feel good, baby." She moved up, her pussy over my
stomach. I felt our juices fall, hot and sticky, from her burning
pussy to my skin. She moved again to begin licking the juices up. 

"I love eating your cum," she said as she lapped away.  After cleaning
me with her tongue, she asked, "Want me to release you or may I
continue?"  

"I want to continue but I would like to see you, to hold you."  

"I would like that, too."  She unlocked the handcuffs. I sat up and
removed the blindfold.

I could not believe what I saw.   She looked like Kim Bassinger with
the full lips and long blonde hair. She had an erotic smile and a
devilish twinkle in her blue eyes. From the neck down she looked like
Jenny McCarthy wished she looked. She stared at my rising prick.  

"Well, I think you like what you see. Let me stand where you can get a
better look."

Without shame or hesitation, she turned and posed, not covering
herself, enjoying my open admiration of her assets. 

"35D - 23 - 36, 5'5", 117 pounds, 18 years old.  Any other questions?"  

"Yes. What is your name?"  

"Oh, I am sorry.  I am Andy . . .  Andrea Mathews, at your service . .
. but, then you knew that."  

"Walk around. I want to enjoy you."

How can I describe perfection: huge, blue eyes, with a soft but
devilish twinkle; long blonde hair, lush and full; huge, high, firm,
round breasts with large nipples in a rose hue; a tiny waist; a
jutting, aggressive, very strokable ass like Goldie Hawn; and legs . .
.   god, her legs were unbelievable. Even more than the physical was
the mental part: she seemed very, very happy to make me happy. 

"We have two important things to accomplish tonight, David," she said.
"I really haven't made love to you yet. I want to do that, and, I have
a message to you from Uncle Bert.  Which do you want first?"

This part you will not believe, but, remember, I just had the orgasm
of my life.  

I said, "Maybe I better hear the message first."  

"Don't you like me?" she said, acting hurt. 

"I think you are great but . . . " 

She kissed me again.  She jammed her whole body against mine and
shoved her tongue down my throat. My cock spoke for me, rising to the
occasion. She trapped it between her thighs. I changed my mind,
allowing her to lead me to the master bedroom.  

"Why are you doing this?" 

"I told you . . .  I love you, Davy."  

"Why do you love me?"   

"You will find out later. Come join me, please, Davy," she said as she
lay back on the bed. 

Andy was strong, muscular, probably from skiing all winter and hiking
all summer. She had the most unbelievable ass which jutted out,
demanding to be caressed. Her breasts were high, firm, ripe, the
nipples pink, but turning to a dusty rose when desire made them blood
engorged. Her breasts were sensitive to my mouth and she whimpered
when I sucked them.  As I told you, I love pussy. I mean really love
it. I like to fuck it, eat it, look at it, play with it, stick my
tongue in it to enjoy the taste, and, stick my nose in it and enjoy
the smells. I like to go to sleep with the odor of pussy under my
nose. 

I am an expert on pussy. I state unequivocally this was the best pussy
I had ever encountered. 

She lay back, spreading her long blonde hair around her like golden
straw. I started kissing, suckling. She was active, positive, happy,
giving as good as she got. 

Finally, she said, "Please, Davy. I can't stand it anymore. Put that
monster in my hot pussy. Slam my slit with your rod, stud. Fuck me so
good. Oh, yes, baby, oh yes, fuck me . . .  huh, huh, oh, Jesus that
feels so good. Now! HarDER!  HARDER! SHIT DAVY!   DON'T EVER STOP . .
.  GOD... DON'T STOP!  PLEASE... MORE... YES! YES! FILL MY PUSSY WITH
YOUR HOT CUM YOU FUCKING SONOFABITCH!!  FUCK MEEE!!!... YESSSSS! I'M
CUMMMMMMINGGGG" 

She started to shriek like an owl caught in a net.  I felt her legs
lock down, wrapped around me, holding me in a vise, her arms crushing
me.  Her pussy was like a fist wrapped around my cock, pumping the cum
out of me and into her. She was covered in sweat, gasping, her back
arching up and down. She giggled and started relaxing, floating in her
afterglow.  I lay on her, getting my breath back. I felt her shiver. 

"Wow," she whispered. 

My thoughts exactly.

She held my head between her beautiful delicate hands, looking into my
face. 

"Want to do it again?" she asked sexily.  

"I don't know if I can right now," I replied, knowing it took a few
minutes to recover. 

"Watch," she said. She rolled me over and moved so her pussy was over
my stomach. I felt her thighs contract and relax as she squeezed my
cum onto my stomach. 

"Remember? I love swallowing your cum," she said, lowering her mouth
to tongue our juices noisily, slurping them down. Then, she slid down
and took my cock in her mouth. I was hard faster that I could believe.
She said, "My turn on top" as she eased me into her hot wetness. She
moved slowly, massaging my hardness with using the internal muscles of
her pussy. Her face was passion as she watched me. I played with those
luscious breasts, her delightful ass, letting her do all the work of
our fucking.  Suddenly, her eyes glazed. She growled from deep down in
her throat like a tigress. I felt her movement accelerate. 

She started talking again, then screaming for me to fuck her, loud,
demanding pleadings of her need. Everyone within a mile knew when she
came.  I fell asleep under a down comforter with one girl power for
warmth. I slept like a baby.

To be continued

Please! Give me your comments.



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