Message-ID: <6226eli$9802191251@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: "Charles Thain" <okiquit@hotmail.com> Subject: Portland Ch. 7 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Content-Type: text/plain Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-Id: <199802191316.FAA14055@f155.hotmail.com> My Weekend in Portland -- Chapter 7 of 30 (mf ff mff) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- WARNING -- This is a work of erotic fiction intended only for readers of a legally responsible age in the jurisdiction where they live. This work may be archived and redistributed, but it may not be sold or changed in any way. Send comments to OKIquit@hotmail.com. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Finally I pulled out of Ruth's pussy, admiring the way her inner lips and dark pubic hair clung wetly to my half-erect dick as it slid out of her. I helped her stand and turn around into my arms. She was still wearing her tennis shoes. We stood there for awhile, our sweaty bodies pressed against each other, while I held Ruth and caressed her shoulders and back. She laid her head against my shoulder and sighed, her thick hair tickling my neck. "That was wonderful," she said dreamily. "That was like nothing I've ever felt before." "Most women don't climax in that position," I murmured. "Really? It felt so intense having to hold myself in place while I was cumming, when I just wanted to fall on the floor in a heap!" Ruth said. "I don't care. I'm still floating." "Do you want me to go get cleaned up?" she asked after several minutes, looking up a little anxiously. "You're not dirty," I replied. "Besides, we have a lot to do." "We do?" puzzled. "Oh yes, we're going to be very busy. First I want you to go upstairs and use one of those enemas you bought," I said, squeezing her butt-cheeks with both hands. Blushing, Ruth ducked out of my arms, avoided my eyes and grabbed one of the bags off the kitchen counter. "Yes, Mr. K-----," she said, and hurried upstairs. Watching her walk toward the stairs, I admired the sight of her inner thighs glistening with a mixture of sperm and pussy juice dripping out of her gorgeous slit. I dug into one of the bags she left on the kitchen counter, coming out with a bottle of my favorite beer. I put the rest of the six-pack in the refrigerator and put away the other food Ruth bought. Leaning against the kitchen counter and sipping my beer, I relaxed, feeling the cooling effect of sweat and pussy juice drying on my skin. For awhile, I held the cold glass of the beer bottle against a nipple, and wondered if Ruth would enjoy that cold, shivery sensation. Then I heard a sound from upstairs and realized the shower was running. "Dammit," I mused. I love the way a woman smells after sex -- a fertile aroma of sweat and warm skin, pussy musk and cum. And Ruth was washing that away. I hadn't exactly told her NOT to shower, but I was a little peeved that she did it without asking. I gathered her sister's spilled clothes into the laundry basket, then collected our scattered clothing and headed upstairs. I dumped our clothes on a chair in the master bedroom and let myself into the warm, steamy bathroom. Pulling open the shower curtain, I stepped into the tub behind Ruth, wrapping my arms around her. She was working up a thick lather in her hair, but she turned her soap-covered face toward me with a smile. I kissed her lips lightly. I slid my hands from her wide hips up her slender waist and cupped her big breasts, slick with soapy water. Lifting them, I felt their fullness and weight in my hands and rubbed my thumbs over her thick nipples, drawing a quiet "Mmmmm" of pleasure. I rubbed against her back and my half-erect penis fit nicely into the top of her ass-crack. I let my hands wander over her beautifully smooth skin, stopping for awhile to run my fingers through the thick, wet tangle above her pussy. Stepping slightly to one side, I started gently rubbing one soapy hand over her pussy while the other slid up and down her rear split. Resting her head against my chest, Ruth sighed deeply and spread her legs a bit, opening herself to my hands. I reflected that the sexually repressed woman described in Ruth's journal would never have allowed herself to be possessed and fondled in this intimate way. But becoming my "slave" somehow freed her from the need to guard her body from any touch, any pleasure. I rubbed her pussy carefully, wanting to stimulate and arouse for awhile, without bringing Ruth to orgasm. I also made sure not to risk getting any soap inside her. I know how sensitive those tissues can be, and I hate the taste of soap. My other hand slid up and down the deep cleft between her buttocks, washing and probing. With each pass I rubbed the tip of my middle finger gently against the tight ring of her asshole, and it reflexively tightened each time. Not all of Ruth's inhibitions had been shed with her conservative clothing. So I concentrated on her pussy, gradually bringing her closer and closer to an explosion. I avoided direct contact with her clit, rubbing instead the whole area of her pussy with the palm of my hand. (End of Chapter 7) ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |