Message-ID: <7161eli$9803221754@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: Bookman Archives <readebks@wolfenet.COM> Subject: RP: Her End of the Business MF, oral Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: readebks@wolfenet.COM 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: <351577E6.6706@wolfenet.com> (Note: I am not the author, only the archivist. The following story deals with themes of explicit sex. If you're not old enough to be here, you're not old enough to read it. Scram.) Her End of the Business By Sir Glans Sometimes I think Barbara doesn't care that much about me, really. Maybe I am just a novelty. Our relationship has always been on her terms, strictly. Sure, I am her boss. I could have her bounced down to a lowly receptionist's spot with a single phone call. If she didn't quit, I could fire her. Doing so would put an end to some annoying questions that circulate through the company every so often: "How come she's a Departmental Associate with only a year and a half here, and she's only 22?" and "I heard she's taking home sixty grand a year, can it be true?" I could end this thing with Barbara, all right, but I won't. She's too beautiful, too erotic, too . . . into what I crave. --- The neat, modern little loft apartment I keep in the city always has a sort of musty smell when I first arrive. Result of being closed up, with no one really living there ninety percent of the time, I suppose. Plenty of time to air it out this week, however. Barbara is really late. If she doesn't get here soon, I'll have to mix some more martinis. And if I finish this batch, well, I might not be in shape for why I am really here. Amazing how dull and empty the little place seems when she's not here. At last, I see her little red Del Sol zip into the space near the front door. She emerges gracefully, her generous curves tastefully displayed in a neat, white business suit, her long, shiny black hair tousled beautifully by the wind. My heart beats faster and my mouth gets dry just looking at her sometimes. "Sorry I'm so late. There was a terrible pileup on the highway," she explains, slipping gracefully out of her clothes and tossing them on the easy chair. Then, beautifully nude, she takes the martini I hand her and curls up next to me on the love seat. She nuzzles my cheek and says, "You're not mad, I hope. You said yourself anticipation adds to the pleasure." I assure her I understand. The sight of her soft, smooth, lightly tanned skin, her medium-sized but perfectly shaped, upturned breasts, sleek waist, neat hips and legs are more than enough to turn back any impatience I might ever feel. She is feminine perfection. "You know, I recalled something on the way over. It was while I was waiting for the tie-up to clear," she tells me, smiling just a bit. "Yes, it just popped up out of the blue. And it was so ... appropriate, I'd guess is the word. I mean, because of what you - we -- like to do." I tell her not to keep me in suspense, finishing my drink and caressing her shoulder and arm. She leans forward for a kiss, giving me tongue spiced with gin and vermouth. Then she giggles. "I think I was only something like 12. This boy, Larry, and I had done a little sex play a few times. He was almost 13 and kind of cute. We did a kissing part, where he had to put his arms around me and everything, and we'd kiss. That went on for awhile, too. I knew it wasn't his favorite part, of course, but he did it to keep me happy. And to make me hot, too, I suppose. But being happy, I did his favorite part ..." "Which was?" I asked, cupping a firm breast in my hand, feeling the nipple grow hard as her hand pressed on mine and suggested a gentle, rotating massage motion. Another girlish giggle (martinis were maybe too strong this time) and then, "Well, we messed around a little while and I let him eat me. That's what kids called it -- 'getting eaten' or 'eating somebody out'. I would crack up sometimes when my dad would tell us, 'Barbara, go get cleaned up because we're eating out tonight'. This really nasty little vision would zip through my head, of everybody in the family doing it to everybody else. Males doing it to the females, I mean. "Anyway, this time I remembered today, Larry didn't have me sit down or lay down with my legs open so he could do it like before. After he took my pants down, he sat down and had me stand in front of him, facing him at first. He kissed and played around with his tongue up front, tried to get it to where I like it. You know, my clit and all. But it was awkward, even though I pushed my hips forward and opened my legs pretty wide trying to cooperate. So then he had me turn around. Kissing her neck, basking in the aroma of White Shoulders, I asked her to go on. "He rubbed his hands all over my butt, like he was polishing it, you know? But pretty soon, he kissed it. Nobody had ever kissed my butt before, and I was like, whoa, this is too nasty," she motioned with her arms and giggled again. "But hey, it got worse, or better. "Next thing I know, he's prying my butt apart with his hands and then he's eating me out from behind. And I bend over and push back, because it's feeling really good. His tongue's on my little nerve and working around over everything else. When he pushes it up in my vagina, I tighten on it, noticing his nose is right on my butthole! Can you imagine? Well, of course you can, but I couldn't then. "Well, not to go on too long with this, before it was over, Larry not only got me off licking me the regular way in the regular place, he licked all up and down between the cheeks of my butt, including right on my nasty little butthole. I mean, it hadn't been but maybe three or four hours before that I had used that for the purpose intended, if you know what I mean. I cleaned up afterward, the way a person does, but it wasn't like I took a bath or anything. So, it dawned on me it was the pure nastiness of it, you know? So, when he poked his tongue up in there, just a little, I was so into what he was doing, the pure nastiness, I pushed back to get more of it. I came again, really wet, and grunted like one of those bimbos in a porn video or something." By now, I am very close to coming. I am kissing and sucking her neck, sometimes ranging down to nibble her erect nipple and strum it with my eager tongue. Having finished her drink, she is idly fondling my heavily loaded balls and teasingly caressing my erection. Oh, sweet agony of desire. "You probably think I was a little slut, but really, I was just naive. I mean, this stuff was all so new. Plus, Larry really was sweet to me. He did things with me and we really talked. So, it wasn't like we just spent time together to do sex stuff. But hey, when the time was right and there was nobody around and we were horny, I mean, we just did stuff. We were experimenting, learning, right?" Moments later, we are rolling on the floor, intertwined. I am generous with licks, kisses and love bites. So is she. Our bodies work together, play together. Then we're locked in sixty-nine with her on top. Above me, before me, the grandest sight in my personal universe. Her beautifully round, full, high, tight ass. And from the divine crevasse that separates her generous, firm globes of exquisite flesh there emanates the ultimate aphrodisiac -- her natural genital perfume, which flows abundantly and coats like honey in moments such as these. Added to it, mixing with it is her anal musk, a pine forest floor smell, sweetish and crisp, as after a summer evening rain. I must fight to keep from flooding her beckoning mouth too soon. She reads me, backs off, concentrates on my testicles with her hot, rolling tongue, then works back, along the ridge that leads to my own anus. Ah, so delicious these moments. I lean up and forward, lapping, licking, chasing the silky, fine black crown of hairs that adorns her pink-brown, rippled opening. Then onto it with the flat of my tongue, wetly lapping. Her scent is strong and electrifying. For all the power of her scent, her flavor is very subtly salty-bitter; I crave that. How much more self-control can I manage? In a moment I am pressing my now-pointed tongue into her. Her sphincter shies inward slightly, tightening, teasing, refusing admittance. But only for seconds, and then it relaxes and welcomes me. She groans, coos, begins working her lovely hips in a rolling motion -- one that bottoms at a point of maximum penetration. My chin caresses, then is ground against by that sensitive area at the bottom of her cunt, between vagina and anus. I do my best to rotate my tongue, taking full advantage each time one of her undulations presses her ass back to nearly cover my face. Barbara is moaning and grunting incoherently now, transported to a place where orgasm is all that counts. As it nears, she bends down and again engulfs my oozing, straining, cock in her hot, eager mouth. Her tongue winds around it, rolling, squeezing. Busy fingers clutch and stir my balls. And then it grips both of us. Grips her in a series of fleshquakes, the shocks of which clamp my aching, ass-probing tongue. Feeling her let go, I draw my legs up halfway, work my hips with the incredibly intense sensations, then let the spasm rise, focus, intensify and finally erupt, spewing long, white-hot gobbets of pearlescent protein lava into her rolling, sucking mouth and down her delicate throat. With muffled moans she encourages, pausing only to swallow. When it's over, we lie there in a heap of damp, still heaving limbs and torsos, transported in our euphoric minds to a place where this is right and good -- the way things ought to be for us and everyone, all the time. She is first to break the reverie. "Why don't you mix some more martinis and call for a pizza while I start the shower for us, dear? Then we'll still have time for me to show you what a boy named Norman taught me the summer before I started college." Man, talk about job security! -- ========================================================================== -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |