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o o
o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also o
o from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no particular order o
o other than offering them to you in alphabetical directories. o
o o
o All works are copyrighted to the author and may not be used for o
o profit without obtaining the author's permission in advance. o
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o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult entertainment o
o and should not be read by minors. o
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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Day in the Life, A (MF, rom)
Anon NIXPIX Author (c) 1989
*
I wake up early, with that same eagerness I had often felt as a
child on Christmas morning. A light, tingly feeling bubbles up
inside me, until I can scarcely contain it. I feel as if I have to
do something with all this energy, or I will explode.
Unable to think of anything else, I bounce out of bed and into the
shower. The steaming water ca!esses my skin, adding an element of
sensuality to my euphoria. I begin singing something I heard on the
radio the other day, slightly off key, humming where I don't know
the words. The song has a nice beat, and I can feel my pulse moving
in time with it as I pick up a bar of soap and begin spreading
creamy lather over my body; first one arm, then the other, followed
by my shoulders and down to my breasts.
My nipples are erect, poking comically through the soap, and the
gentle abrasion of the washcloth makes them even stiffer. I cup one
breast in my free hand, stroking the hard point with my thumb, and
delighting in the slippery smoothness of it. I close my eyes,
losing myself in a moment of private erotica. Slowly, more from
gravity than any conscious thought of my own, my hand slips
downward. It crosses my stomach easily, gliding like an ice skater
over my frictionless skin, and comes to rest among soft, wet curls.
I run my fingers idly through those curls for a few minutes, not
seeking stimulation, simply enjoying the feel of them against my
fingers. Gradually, however, my touch grows bolder and I slip my
index finger between the warm, soapy folds. When I brush my clit, a
thrill runs up my spine. I touch it again, more confidently this
time, and rejoice in the little explosions it sparks. I begin
rubbing it slowly, then increase the pace slightly.
That same song I had been singing earlier is now running through my
head, and I match my rhythm to it. I am feeling slightly dizzy, so
I lean back against the cool tiled wall. My other hand has now
joined its mate, and is exploring the deeper regions of my cunt.
Faster and faster, my fingers dart in and out. I can feel the
pressure mounting inside me with every heaving breath until it
finally boils over. I thrust my fingers deep inside, then hold them
there as shudders engulf them. The walls of my cunt grip my fingers
tightly, pulsing aggressively, as sticky juices flood around them.
The throbbing subsides slowly, replaced by a sensation of satisfied
warmth and fullness, as I withdraw my fingers and rinse the
remaining soap from my body.
Refreshed from the shower, I vigorously towel myself dry and slip
into the pink lace underwear and bra I know you like so well. My
legs are tanned and clean-shaven, so I decide to forego stockings
today. I seat myself at the dressing table in my room and brush out
my long, blonde hair. It curls damply around my face, moist
tendrils cascading over my shoulders and partway down my back.
Leaning close to the mirror, I carefully apply a soft blush that
makes my cheeks glow, and accent my blue eyes with blue-grey eye
shadow. Mascara next, then eye liner and soft pink lip gloss. I
scrutinize my reflection, pleased with what I see. A quick glance
at the clock shows that it is only 7:30 - you won't arrive for
another hour. Sighing, I pick up the hair dryer. Dry, my hair fans
down my back in a golden cloud and curls around my face like an
airy picture frame. I look at the clock again - 7:53 - open the
closet, and debate silently over what to wear. I pull out a pale
pink dress, holding it against myself as I turn toward the mirror,
then shake my head and put it back. A blue skirt and flowered
blouse follow, then a green dress and a black one.
Impatiently, I rifle through the clothes and finally select a white
knit dress that clings intimately to my body, displaying my flat
stomach and rounded hips nicely, while hinting at the hollow
between my thighs. It leaves my arms bare, and the scooped neck
reveals just a taste of cleavage. I add white pumps and a bit of
jewelry, then smile at my image in the mirror. I know your tastes
well, and am sure you will like it.
Finally - 8:30. I listen eagerly for the doorbell, but it
stubbornly doesn't ring. The clock ticks away the minutes, tick-
tock, tick-tock, and still you aren't here. I should have known
you'd be late - probably just to get even with me for all the times
I've made you wait. I giggle at this touch of spite, knowing full
well that you've looked forward to today as eagerly as I have.
Finally, I hear your shoes clicking down the hall, and have the
door open before you can knock. I greet you with a huge hug, our
lips meeting in a passionate kiss. After a moment I step back,
pulling you into the apartment, and close the door.
"Happy birthday, Jacki!" I exclaim cheerfully. You have just turned
24, and we are going to spend the day celebrating, just as we have
done for the past four years.
I notice you eyeing me approvingly, and feel a soft, tingly glow
build up inside me. Grabbing your hand, I lead you eagerly to the
bedroom where I help you to undress. When I remove your levis, I
gasp in mock horror. "Jacki! You didn't shave your legs this
morning!" You look slightly embarrassed as you admit that you'd
forgotten, but we both know it is all a sham - you just prefer
having me shave them for you.
Accordingly, I have already prepared a luxuriant bubble bath, and
lead you to it. You sigh as you lower yourself into the thick,
scented bubbles, and your eyes close blissfully. For a long moment
you just recline there, totally absorbed in the hot water lapping
against your skin. Then, as if remembering that you aren't alone,
you open your eyes, stretch lazily, like a cat, and extend one
soapy leg toward me.
Carefully, so my dress won't get wet, I grasp your foot, tickling
the bottom of it until you giggle, and pick up a razor. I begin at
your slim ankle, then stroke slowly up the graceful curve of your
calf. The bubbles allow the razor to glide smoothly over your skin,
stripping away hairs and revealing soft, bare skin. When I have
finished your lower leg, I move on to your firm, muscular thigh. I
gaze admiringly at it, stroking the newly shaved surface and
clearing away stray bubbles. I can see that you've been out in the
sun quite a bit, because you have a beautiful golden-brown tan. I
notice the conspicuous lack of a tan line and grin, easily
visualizing you lying naked on the beach. The image is very
tempting, and I briefly consider changing today's plans to include
a trip to the beach. Perhaps another day...
When I finish shaving your legs I drain the tub, running a little
warm water to rinse away the last of the clinging foam. Then, hand
in hand, we return to my bedroom, where I open the drawer I keep
just for you. First, I take out a pair of white silk panties,
trimmed in lace. You step into them, and I slide them up your long,
graceful legs. I note with approval that the short, dark curls
nestled between your thighs are faeshly trimmed, an I ruffle them
playfully with my hand before covering them with the white silk.
Next, a matching silk bra.
I stand behind you, caressing your chest as I fasten it around
you. You lean back against me, revelling in the sensuous touch of
silk, and I can feel your nipples growing harder. Knowing your love
of frilly things, I next select a lacy white garter belt which I
help you into. Finally - stockings.
I bunch the nylon up around my hands, then slip it over your foot
and carefully ease it up your leg. As I fasten the garters to the
stockings, I allow the back of my hand to lightly brush your
crotch. From your sharp intake of breath, I know that you are
aroused. Now that your undergarments have been taken care of, I
turn to the closet and pull out a cheerful red dress.
You put it on, and I step back to admire you. The short skirt shows
off your legs beautifully, and when you turn I see that it also
fits snugly around your cute ass. The bodice is cut low in back,
slightly higher in front, so that no cleavage actually shows, but
the impression of small, pert breasts is clear. Your tanned arms
are left deliciously bare. The final touches - a slim black belt,
jewelry, and low heeled black pumps.
When we are satisfied with your outfit, I seat you at my dressing
table and begin brushing your short, dark hair. You offer a token
protest that you are perfectly capable of brushing your own hair,
but I know that on this one special day you want to be pampered a
bit, and I am only too happy to oblige. Freshly washed, your hair
is already soft and fluffy and needs only a few touches from my
curling iron before it feathers back charmingly from your face.
Finally, I am ready to start your makeup. You don't need much -
just a little blush to highlight your cheekbones, a touch of grey
eye shadow over your sparkling brown eyes, and a delicate coating
of lip gloss. At your request I add a bit of mascara, though your
lashes are already long and silky. The overall effect is stunning,
and I feel my insides turning flip-flops as we look at each other,
side by side, in the mirror. You turn to me, and we exchange a
deep, passionate kiss, then grab our purses and leave the
apartment.
We decide not to drive, since the weather is so lovely. Besides, it
is nearly impossible to find parking places on a Saturday, so we
walk half a block to the bus stop. While we wait for the bus, we
glance at each other nervously. Will it work? Can we pull it off?
Or will we be caught this time? Every time we go out together like
this, the same questions torment us for the first few moments.
Then, the bus pulls up and we climb on, pay our fare, and look
around for a seat. The bus is crowded today, and there are no open
seats, but a pair of chivalrous young men near the front stand when
they see us looking around, offering us their seats. The lusty
admiration in their glances is obvious, and we exchange a relieved
smile as we sit down. The two men hover over us, making small talk,
as the bus trundles through the streets. Flattered by their
attention, we chat politely with them, flirting ever so slightly,
until we reach our stop. Then we thank them for the seats, say our
goodbyes, and leave.
As we step down, I am monetarily blinded by the bright sunlight. It
is going to get hot today! I check my watch - 9:56 - and set off at
a brisk pace across the crowded parking lot with you by my side.
Though it is still early, I can already feel heat radiating up from
the asphalt, and breathe a sigh of relief when we step into the
airconditioned mall.
"Where would you like to start?" I ask. You shrug, so we start
wandering down the corridor, looking into windows.
"That would be cute on you!" you suggest, pointing at a black
leather teddy in the display window of a lingerie shop. Intrigued,
we enter and start rummaging through the racks. Before long, we
have each found several appealing outfits and retire to the
dressing room to try them on. Fortunately, the rooms are large, and
we decide to share one so that we can see how each outfit looks.
The first thing you try on, a frothy confection of pink and white
lace, reminds me of cotton candy. I giggle, commenting that you
look good enough to eat. "Maybe later" you whisper suggestively.
I slip into the teddy that had caught your eye, and you lick your
lips approvingly. My breasts nearly spill out of the tightly laced
bodice, and the seat consists of only a leather thong between my
well-toned buttocks. "Nice..." you purr, running your fingertips
lightly up the back of my thigh and over my exposed rump. I arch my
back, stretching luxuriously, and one of my breasts does tumble
from its precarious perch. The other is about to escape as well,
its nipple already peeping impudently over the leather cup.
Standing behind me, you put your arms around me, cupping my breasts
in your hands. My nipples stiffen instantly at your touch, and you
tweak them playfully. Your breath is hot against my ear, and your
hands are soft. Sighing blissfully, I recline against your body for
a moment. Your hands roam easily over my breasts, evoking shivers
and goose bumps with your light, teasing touch. I moan softly as
you lick the edge of my ear then nibble gently on my earlobe.
Unable to restrain myself any longer, I turn around and kiss you.
Your lips part eagerly, welcoming my probing tongue. I explore your
mouth, tasting your sweet breath and the smooth hardness of your
teeth. You tongue joins mine in a slippery, undulating dance.
Abruptly, you break away. With one hand on each of my shoulders,
you push me gently back until I feel the hard edge of a bench
against the backs of my knees. You continue to exert a steady
pressure, easing me down, until I am sitting on that narrow ledge.
The mirror is directly in front of me, and I have an exciting view
of your ass, framed in pink and white lace, as you bend over me. My
knees open easily at your touch, and you spread them further. I
shiver, feeling suddenly vulnerable and exposed, with only a flimsy
bit of leather between us.
Your nimble fingers quickly overcome that obstacle, the snaps
popping open like firecrackers at your touch. As each snap gives I
feel a coolness, a slight draft, creeping across my pussy with
silken fingers. Your breath steams against my thigh, a turbulent
contrast to the cooler breeze that whispers through my hair. In the
mirror I see your dark curls, poised like the heart of some sweet
flower between the petals of my thighs. As the last snap gives, you
meet my gaze with laughter dancing in your eyes.
I moan softly, anticipating your touch, nor am I disappointed.
Cupping my buttocks in your hands, you slide me forward until I am
perched on the edge of the seat. Then, still caressing my rear, you
lower you mouth. At first there is only the warm, sensuous brushing
of your lips over my soft fur. I close my eyes, so absorbed in the
sensation that I hardly notice your hands sliding over my hips and
thighs. I only become aware of them gradually, as you part my
labia. Dimly, my lust-fogged brain realizes what you are about to
do, and my body coils like a spring in anticipation. Your lips
close over my straining clit, triggering the pent up energy and
causing my hips to jerk spasmodically against your face.
The only sounds are my ragged breathing and the soft slurping
noises you make as you suck gently on my clit, applying your teeth
occasionally with delicate precision. I am focused so completely on
that tiny button of flesh that I never notice your fingers creeping
into me, until suddenly they are there. You are using fingers from
both hands, stroking me in several directions at once. It feels as
if my cunt will fly apart under your darting touches - now deep,
now shallow; aggressive, then butterfly soft. My eyes pop open in
shock and are captured by the mirror.
The sight of your head reflected between my twitching thighs and
your fingers flashing, wet and slippery, in and out of my cunt
stoke the blaze inside me to greater heights. A wave of consuming
heat crashes over me, blanking out my vision and ringing in my
ears. Convulsions begin deep inside me, spreading outward from a
molten core. They ripple through smooth internal muscles, clenching
around your fingers in successive contractions.
As the feeling dissipates I become aware of hot pain in my chest,
and realize that I am holding my breath. I let it out slowly,
cocooned in a sense of well-being. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
Each measured breath builds the calm within me. Finally, I open my
eyes and give you a weak smile. Your face is flushed, and your hair
is slightly tousled from my hands running through it. You rise
slowly, drawing me into your arms as we stand. Your lips brush mine
softly, and I taste the faint saltiness of my juices. We stretch
languidly, like two cats in the sun, before changing back into our
own clothes. I carefully brush your hair and repair your makeup,
then we emerge. I purchase the leather teddy, because I know we
will enjoy it again another day. Perhaps next time you will be
wearing it?
Our next stop is a shoe store. The moment he sees us, a pimply high
school boy rushes over, nearly tripping over his own feet. We
giggle at his puppyish eagerness and the almost reverent way he
handles your foot as he sizes it. He is trying so hard to be
charming, you can't help flirting with him just a little. He
blushes adorably, even his ears and neck turning red. Stammering
terribly, he admits that today is his first day on the job, school
having just ended for the summer. Though you do not buy any shoes,
you blow him a kiss as we leave and I see the other clerks glaring
enviouly at him.
We wander through several other shops, just looking mostly, trying
a few things on. To any casual observer, we look like sisters or
best friends. After a while you comment that you are hungry. We
check the time and are amazed to see that it is almost 1:30.
For lunch we go to Pierre's, just like we do every year. It is
small, styled after the Parisian sidewalk cafes, and the food is
good. As we take our seats, the owner rushes up.
"Bon jour!" he greets us ecstatically. Only years of practice
enable me to keep a straight face at his outrageous accent. His
real name is Peter O'Donnell, and the ridiculous "french" accent he
affects does nothing to disguise his Brooklyn origin.
"Bon jour, Pierre!" we reply cheerfully. This is a game we have
played many times before. He knows our secret; we know his. We are
all friends, and the secrets make no difference. Still, I wince as
I remember Pierre's disastrous attempt to seduce you. He failed, of
course, but it forced us to reveal ourselves to him. That was in
the past however, and today the sun is shining. I grin as Pierre
rattles off the day's specials, then leaves us to greet another
customer.
We scan the menus briefly, then you whisper your order to me. When
the waiter comes, I order for both of us. He raises an eyebrow in
surprise, but does not comment. It is the same every year, but it
does not grow dull. Every time seems like the first time. Our food
comes, and we eat. It is good, just like it always is. After the
meal I pay the check and bid Pierre a fond adieu. I kiss him on the
cheek as we leave, and while he clearly enjoys it, he shifts
uncomfortably when you approach. You wink mischievously at him.
"Maybe next time, Pierre..." you purr.
It is almost 3:00 now. I ask what you would like to do, already
knowing the answer, but asking anyway just because you like to be
asked. You pretend to think for a moment, then suggest a movie.
There is a theatre nearby that shows foreign films every Saturday
afternoon. You like them because they are sad and make you cry. As
we walk the few short blocks to the theatre, you say that you hope
it is an Italian show. They are your favorites, because they are
the saddest. When the marquee comes into view, we discover gladly
that it is a Fellini film - of all the Italian movies we have seen,
his are the best. We buy our tickets, then slip into the cool
dimness of the auditorium just as the lights go out.
I haven't seen this film before, and I don't think you have either.
It is very good, and very sad. I glance over at you and see tears
streaming from your eyes. You always forget to bring a
handkerchief, so I give you mine. While you dab at your eyes, I
rest my hand comfortingly on your knee. Slipping my hand under your
skirt, I stroke your thigh gently throughout the remainder of the
movie. When it is over, we sit quietly for a moment before leaving.
The sunlight dazzles us and I reel slightly, disoriented after
emerging from the dark theatre into daylight.
It is growing late, so we decide to return to my apartment. On the
way back, however, we pass a bar and you suggest stopping for a
drink. Our entry creates a bit of a stir among the other patrons,
most of whom appear to be businessmen in their early thirties. One
of them wanders over to our table and sits down beside you. He
introduces himself and offers to buy us a round of drinks. I accept
for both of us. The drinks arrive and we sip them idly while
chatting about inconsequential things.
Though he politely includes me in the conversation, it is obvious
that you are the one he is interested in. Knowing your strict
disinterest in men, I am curious how you will handle this
situation. You are already beginning to shift uncomfortably in your
chair and mumble periodically that we really must be going.
Undaunted, he sets his hand lightly on your knee and begins
stroking up your thigh. You freeze, panic stricken, a look of such
horror on your face that I almost laugh aloud.
"Come on, Jacki. We really do have to get home." I say
nonchalantly, taking you by the arm. You nod woodenly and stand,
shaking off your would-be seducer's hand. He glares at us,
muttering something about frigid bitches. I ignore him, leading you
firmly out of the bar. You sigh in relief as we step back onto the
sidewalk. The laughter I have been suppressing finally bursts
forth. You glare at me, not amused, but as the tension eases you
finally begin to smile. By the time the bus arrives you are
laughing as hard as I am.
"Did you see his face?" you gasp, tears streaming from your eyes.
"He looked so mad, I thought he wanted to strangle you right
there!"
"Yeah, but he would have been even madder if you'd let him
continue! I'd love to have seen his face then! Maybe we should go
back and invite him home with us. I'm sure he'd accept." You scowl
at this suggestion and stick your tongue out at me. Except for an
occasional stifled giggle, we ride the rest of the way back in
silence.
When we arrive at my apartment we walk slowly into the bedroom
without saying anything. A pervasive sadness overcomes me as the
day draws to a close. We've had such fun, and I don't want it to
end. You look slightly downcast too. Sighing, I take you in my arms
and give you a long, slow kiss. "Goodbye, Jacki..." I whisper.
"I'll see you again next year..." A single tear trickles down your
cheek as you turn and leave the room.
For a moment I stare sadly at the door, then I force a smile to my
lips and begin undressing. When I am stripped down to my underwear
I step in front of the mirror and brush out my hair. Static
electricity crackles through the golden cloud that swirls around
me. I meticulously touch up my makeup, then lie down on the bed to
wait.
I do not have to wait long. After only a few minutes the door
creaks slowly open and you walk in. Your freshly scrubbed face
glows, and your hair is damp and slightly askew. You are naked,
bronze muscles rippling gracefully as you stalk across the room.
Our careful transformation has been reversed, and you are now every
bit a man.
I sigh delightedly as you take me in your arms, my head resting
against your broad chest. The primitive rhythms of your heartbeat
stir tides of passion within me. Your warm, masculine scent clouds
my senses like some exquisite drug. Surrendering to your embrace, I
raise my lips to meet your own. Your kiss is fierce and demanding.
My head swims dizzily as you seem to suck the air out of my lungs.
Every fiber of my body screams for your touch.
You ease me down onto the blankets, a hungry gleam in your eyes.
Slowly, you remove my lacy undergarments, kissing every inch of
flesh that is exposed. I moan slightly, squirming as you brush your
lips teasingly over my belly. Your hands find my breasts, exploring
their firm softness and stiff nipples as if for the first time.
While I twine my fingers through your hair, you engulf one swollen
aureola with your lips. Your mouth is hot and moist on my breast.
The fluttering dance of your tongue draws my nipple to an even
stiffer peak which you nibble eagerly. Then, with agonizing
slowness, you begin blazing a trail down my chest and stomach with
your kisses.
Still straddling me, you turn and plant one knee on either side of
my head. Your swollen cock bobs above my face, brushing against my
cheeks. Eagerly, I grasp it and guide it down to my waiting mouth.
As I close my lips around the head, I feel your mouth on my clit. I
have been terribly aroused all day, and now that pent up energy
seeks release. My hips jerk frantically, grinding my cunt against
your face. Simultaneously, I raise my head slightly, engulfing your
cock. You begin thrusting slowly into my mouth, matching your pace
to the movements of my hips. A drop of pre- cum forms, and I
greedily lap it up. The salty taste adds to my arousal.
My tongue glides rapidly, flickering across your head then stroking
the smooth sides firmly. I suck gently, hoping to elicit more of
your salty fluid. I can feel you swelling inside my mouth, your
cock pulsing with a life of its own. Your balls dangle in front of
my nose, and I breathe deeply of their warm, musky scent. Your
tongue darts erratically across my clit and between my slippery
folds, accompanied by your fingers. I am writhing desperately
beneath you, smearing your cheeks with my slippery juices. I am
teetering on the brink of a cataclysmic orgasm, when you suddenly
raise your head.
Your cheeks glisten wetly as you turn to face me once again. I
spread my thighs wider, allowing you free access to my tender core.
For a moment you only brush the tip of your cock across my lips,
teasing me. I twist and thrust vainly, trying to capture you inside
me, and at last you relent. For a moment you press against my cunt,
positioning yourself, then with one violent shove you bury yourself
completely inside me. I gasp at the suddenness of it, my thighs
jerking convulsively as you withdraw partway, but I am ready for
your next thrust and rise to meet it.
We lapse into a steady rhythm as old as time, the very pulse of
life expressing itself in our movements. We are no longer just
ourselves; we have become the archetypal man and woman, renewing
ourselves in this ancient ritual. I am filled completely, %s I was
meant to be filled. When you wihdraw, my muscles tighten and clench
around you, seeking to hold you yet within me. When you thrust, I
welcome you deeply with an answering thrust of my own.
Primal tides surge high within us as I wrap my leg around yours,
pulling you deep into me. Wordlessly communicating my intention, I
embrace you tightly and we roll together, trading places. Now I am
on top, and I ride you like a thoroughbred. I can feel your muscles
tensing beneath me as I draw my knees up and plant them on either
side of your hips. I shift my weight off you, rising until you are
almost out of me, then plunge back down, impaling myself. The
muscles in your thighs quiver, and your face is tight and flushed.
Again I rise up onto my knees. Your eyes close, anticipating my
downward stroke. I gasp as I feel your cock tearing into me, hot
and urgent.
Another stroke and we are both hovering on the brink. You grip my
hips, your nails digging lightly into my flanks, as I pull off you
a final time. Your hands give my descent added force as I impale
myself again. This time I do not pull away. The muscles in my
thighs convulse, suddenly refusing to bear my weight, and my toes
clench. The wild pulsing of my cunt makes you lose control, and I
can feel you beginning to throb inside me. Your hot cum gushes into
me, wave after scalding wave. I contract around you, milking you of
every drop. The seconds stretch out into eternity as we strain
together. Finally the convulsions subside.
One by one the fibers in my thighs unclench, easing the tension. I
raise myself weakly, freeing your now flaccid cock, then collapse
on top of you. My cheek rests on your shoulder, and your arms are
around me, holding me close. This is the moment I like best of all,
because I feel so close to you and so safe. With a blissful sigh I
close my eyes and reflect on how wonderful our unique relationship
is. As 'Jacki' you are my best friend and sometimes lover; as
'Mark' you are a superb lover and boyfriend. Sex has been much more
exciting since you shared your secret fantasies with me, because I
love fulfilling them as much as you do.
I open my eyes briefly and whisper "Happy birthday darling," then
snuggle against your chest and drift off to sleep.