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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 The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of o
o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o
o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o
o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to o
o be typed therefore I don’t type things myself." I think it’s o
o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o
o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors. Kristen 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
December Fantasy (MF, rom)
by Mark A. Foster (c) 1989
Imagine....
It's early December; you're at my house. We've just finished a
quiet lunch; you're on your way back to work. You put away your lunch
things, stop in the bathroom and give your hair a quick brush. We walk
down the hall; you stop at the head of the stairs to look out the
window. I come up behind you and put my arms around your waist, hug you
close to me. You gaze at the blanket of snow on the ground and murmur,
"It's lovely. We never did...." Your moist breath frosts the window
pane. Your voice trails off.
"I know, we never did. Never enough time. In a hurry?"
"Make me late?"
I slide my hands up from your waist and caress your breasts lightly
through your sweater. You arch your back, pressing your rapidly
erecting nipples against my palms. I feel the sweater catching on the
lace of your bra. Your purse and lunch bag hit the floor with a dull
thud; you cup your hands over mine and press them hard against your
breasts. I bend down slightly, to nuzzle your neck. The faint perfume
of your hair tickles my nose; the scent of soft, clean skin excites me.
I feel myself starting to harden. You press back against my hips,
wriggling to center my hardening cock in the crack of your ass. You
drop your hands, reach behind and grab my hips, pull me hard against
you. You whisper, "I can feel your heat."
My hands speak my answer, massaging your breasts through your
sweater. I cup and release, dragging the knit fabric across the lace
that covers your nipples, catching the erecting buds between finger and
thumb. I pinch them lightly, drawing them out, teasing them to full
erection. I move forward with my lips, nibbling along your neck, rising
up to your chin. Your breath is soft and sweet, and as warm as a spring
afternoon. Our lips meet, catch, and join together. Your honey sweet
tongue slips into my mouth, teasing at my teeth, fencing with my tongue.
My consciousness starts to slide away as my being centers on the
sensations of your body.
I slide my hands down your breasts and torso, fingers counting ribs,
until my fingertips stutter across the waistband of your skirt. I press
firmly against your hips as my hands descend, tracing a path down your
thighs. I draw my hands up again, the fabric of the skirt bunching and
riding up your thighs as my hands journey in toward your groin. I cup
your mons with both hands and massage it gently through the cloth. "I
can feel your heat, too." I release the skirt, hear the soft swish as
the cloth slides across your skin.
I pull your sweater free of your skirt and my hands start their slow
journey upward, sliding between sweater and skin. My fingers pause; I
caress your navel with my fingertips, luxuriating in the feel of the
satin of your skin under my hands again. I linger for only a moment,
then resume my search. Up further, and I find the fabric of your bra,
drawn tight across your chest by your arched back and jutting breasts.
I draw my fingers along the line of fabric, my hands brushing against
the underside of your breasts. You stiffen slightly at the contact. I
reach up a little more, cup your breasts through your bra. The lace,
coarse next to your skin, nips at my palms as I massage and squeeze your
flesh. You relax into the caressing; your nipples pop over the top of
the demi-bra. I slide my palms slowly up and down, drawing them across
your nipples. The contrast of soft breast, erect nipple, and coarse
lace excites me further; my prick jerks against you and you grind your
hips against me in response.
My stroking is beginning to affect you; your breathing deepens and
you relax back into my arms. The fabric tightens and loosens with each
breath; I wait till you exhale, then quickly lift the cloth up above
your tits, feeling the bottom edge skip over your nipples. My hands are
now cupping soft, warm, bare flesh. I try to pull you closer to me, but
can't, we are already almost melded. I draw my hands outward, dragging
the finger tips across the sensitive underside of your breasts, and you
rise up in excitement, breaking our prolonged kiss.
I caress inward again, dragging my nails lightly across your skin,
tweak your nipples between thumb and finger, then slide my hands down
across your tummy again. When they reach the waistband of your skirt,
my hands begin a slow search along the line of cloth. They find the
button that secures your skirt, and my fingers deftly fail to pilot the
button through the treacherous buttonhole. I curse softly, and hear you
giggle in response. I silence you with another kiss, and try again to
feed the elusive button back through the errant hole. Success! I slide
my hands under the now slack material, across the elastic and soft
cotton of your briefs. Fingers extended, I home in on the warmth
between your thighs. You spread your legs slightly; I slide my fingers
between them, along the cotton, to come to rest on either side of your
labia. "You're soaked," I whisper. I begin to stroke your cunt lips
through the cotton. I can smell the aroma of your excitement; the scent
is making me high. I draw one finger across the center of your panties,
the cloth presses up into your wet slit, sliding easily across your
flesh. You moan softly.
I draw my hands out of your skirt and step back. You start to
protest, stop as I kneel down and turn you to face me. I drop my hands
to your ankles and stroke my way up your legs, lifting your skirt,
exposing thighs and panties to my view. Your excitement is evidenced by
the dark, spreading stain on the crotch of your panties. I drop my
glasses on the floor, lean forward and nip your clitoris, lightly,
through the cotton. You take the hem of your skirt in hand and hold it
against your belly. Leaning back, your ass against the window sill, you
spread your legs wider.
I stroke one finger across your crotch, feeling the slick moisture
coat my finger. I pull your panties aside with one hand. Your labia
are swollen and red; your clitoris peeks shyly from between them. Your
cunt is pouting and beautiful; it glistens with the moisture of love.
Tongue out, I press my face between your legs, reaching as far back as I
can. Slowly, gently, I lick forward across the surface of your lips,
savoring the scent and taste of your sweet juice. As my tongue reaches
the front of your slit, I press up and in, parting your pussy, exposing
your clit. I press the tip of my tongue up into the clitoral hood,
licking slowly back and forth across the sensitive nub. You respond
with a long sigh, and slowly rock your hips forward and back, your
movement enhancing my tongue's actions. I purse my lips and suck your
clit gently into my mouth, spreading the hood with soft pressure from my
teeth. I flick my tongue across your clit, sometimes soft and slow,
sometimes faster and harder. Then caressing it with wet, slow licks -
but always changing tempo and pressure. I stop my roving tongue and
begin to suck rhythmically, as though nursing at your breast. I feel
your hand against the back of my head, urging and encouraging. My
tongue picks up the tempo of my lips, pressing in and flicking across
your clitoris, skipping up over the lip of the hood. My free hand
slides up between your legs, up the back of your thigh, to cup and
caress the firm globe of your ass. I extend my thumb between your cunt
lips, slide it slowly back and forth. You open under the gentle
pressure; my thumb slips easily into your warm pussy. I keep an even
tempo now, softly sucking lips and darting tongue counterpointed by
sliding thumb. You spread your legs still wider and press down against
my hungry mouth, as though you would encompass me, draw me whole into
your womb.
I slide my thumb out of its warm, wet haven, and cover your entire
cunt with my mouth. I suck your labia into my mouth, now nipping
lightly, now drawing them across the edge of my teeth with soft suction.
I feel your ass cheeks clench beneath my hand; I feel the wave of your
impending climax ripple through the muscles in your belly. I slide my
tongue into your waiting body, savoring the taste of you. The walls of
your cunt contract, as though to hold me there forever, a willing and
loving prisoner. I carefully bring my teeth to bear against your now
too-sensitive clitoris, letting the motion of your hips slide the nubbin
across my teeth. Your breath is coming harder and faster; another soft
moan escapes your lips. I fuck you faster with my tongue, glorying in
the warmth, wetness, and taste of your cunt. The spasms in your thighs
and buttocks signal the start of your climax, and I thrust my tongue
deeply into you, pressing hard up against you with my mouth. As the
first wave of the orgasm sweeps through you, you press my face even
harder against you and your thighs clamp viselike around my head. I
feel your vaginal walls contract and ripple, milking my tongue-prick,
drawing me deeper. I am caught in the maelstrom of your orgasm,
overwhelmed by the taste, and smell, and feel of your cunt. As the
juices of your climax overflow and soak my face, I explode, my climax
triggered by the energy of yours. Drawing life and sustenance from your
pulsing, hot orgasm, I am transported.
The shudders slowly subside; the tremors end. Too soon, our swift
climaxes sweep away. Your eyes sweep past my face, fasten on the
spreading dark stain on my jeans. You smile and giggle, "I made you
come in your pants!" I smile and nod. "How could I not?"
My beard and mustache are saturated with your cum; your briefs have
absorbed all they can hold. I slip them back over your dripping cunt,
watch the wetness seep through and cling to the cotton. I caress your
thighs, slide my hands up to stroke your ass. Slipping fingers under
the waistband, I gently pull the sodden panties down, see them peel away
from you. I slide them slowly down your thighs, past your knees, to
your ankles. I lift one foot through, then the other. I lean forward
and sweep my tongue across your slit once again, as my hands begin a
slow journey upward. Forward and back, slowly, gently, seeking every
drop of precious nectar. I pause to tickle the hollow behind your knee,
then slide my hands back up to cup your ass. My tongue snakes
insistently between your swollen lips, but finds no more ambrosia. I
feel your hands on my head, pushing me away, but still I seek. I am
loath to leave this Eden. You persist; I yield. My hands drop to my
side.
"All clean?" you ask. I nod.
You stand up, release the hem. Your skirt drops to cover you again.
"You missed a spot."
"Where?"
You turn away, reach down and raise the back of your skirt.
Dancer's legs - muscular calves, velvet thighs, beautifully rounded
buttocks, all exquisitely sculpted in flesh - are slowly exposed to my
hungry eyes. The slow tease, the smell of you in my beard, and the
sight of the swollen labia my tongue so recently enjoyed - these all
combine to excite and arouse me once again. I feel my cock hardening
again, sliding in my cum soaked jeans.
You lift your skirt above your ass, and spread your legs. You lean
forward, your labia opening like a flower in bloom, your cheeks
spreading to expose your anus. "Right there, in the center." I scoot
forward between your legs, and raise my face to your groin again. I
slide my tongue between your lips again, licking back across the
perineum, then back into your cunt. "Higher."
Willingly, joyously, I slide my tongue out of its haven and trace my
way back, up the crack of your ass. I stop just short of your anus and
withdraw my tongue. I reach up, cup your buttocks with my hands, and
caress and massage the firm globes. I tongue the small of your back,
just above your ass, then press your cheeks together and draw my tongue
down the tight crevice. I draw your cheeks apart with my palms, flick
my tongue across the tight ring of your asshole. I circle it,
teasingly, savoring the sharp, tangy taste. Slowly, I draw the tip of
my tongue across it; you press back in answer. I spread your cheeks
more, push my mouth up to cover your asshole. I suck at it gently,
moistening it with my lips and caressing it with my tongue. With each
touch of my tongue, I feel you tense and relax, anticipating the
pressure. I center my tongue on the puckered rosebud, press gently
inward. You resist momentarily, then the sphincter relaxes and the tip
of my tongue enters. I slide back out and run my tongue around your
anus once again. Then I press against it gently, entering more easily
this time. I carefully stroke in and out - slowly, easily, penetrating
just a little further. I pull out and rim you again, only to return and
press back through your now relaxed and welcoming asshole. Encouraged,
I press a little harder, a little faster. Now I'm fucking you with my
tongue, sliding in and popping out. There's no resistance to my entry,
my tongue slides freely into your tight, wet ass. You sigh softly and
bend over further, pressing back against my face. I quicken my pace,
staying inside you now. I pause, pull my tongue just outside you. You
push back against me, and I meet the pressure with a slow, steady
thrust, against the barrier and through again. You squeeze my tongue
with your ass, pulling me in as far as I can reach. I stop and wait,
feeling your muscles relaxing again around their lingual visitor.
Your anus relaxes once more; you begin rocking your hips gently. I
catch your tempo, sliding in and out at your pace. Slow, long, firm
strokes in and out of you. I massage and knead the muscles of your ass
with my hands, bring one hand in between your thighs. I press up with
my thumb, parting your lips again, entering you deeply. I press a
fingertip against your clitoris, flicking softly across it in time with
my tongue. The sensations are overwhelming me again - your vaginal
walls rippling against my thumb, the soft/hard nub of your clit under my
finger, the rhythmic clenching of your ass and the taste of you on my
tongue. As my excitement mounts, I speed up, thrusting my tongue faster
and harder, deep in your ass. I hear your breathing speeding up; almost
gasping you say, "No - too fast, too hard." I've lost your tempo; I
slow down, ease up, wait to feel the rhythm of your hips. Ah, got it.
Slower, smoother, not so jerky, easy gentle rhythm. "Mmmm, yes. That's
it." I synchronize with your movement, still thrusting deeply, tongue
and thumb alternating thrusts, finger playing lightly over your
clitoris. "Right there. Slowly. Deeper. Ohhh, yes." I concentrate
on your responses, feeling the interplay of muscles in your cunt and
ass, trying to balance and tune the pressures and tempos. This is my
heaven - the textures of your flesh, the smell and the taste of you - I
could dwell here forever, my tongue fucking your ass and my thumb
fucking your cunt, feeling your excitement swell and crest. I'm getting
lost in the sensations again, and am unprepared for your sudden thrust
down. You draw me fully inside, and I am trapped deep in you by the
grasping muscles as you climax again.
This orgasm is not as intense as the first; you recover quickly.
You pull slowly away from my face, slipping my tongue out of your ass.
I lick across your wet asshole one last time. You reach down and take
the hand that still caresses your cunt and press it hard against you
before withdrawing it slowly. You release my hand; your skirt drops to
cover you once more. "Stand up." I rise and embrace you from behind,
kiss the back of your neck. You reach behind and squeeze my still-hard
cock through the wet fabric of my jeans. You release it and whisper, "I
want you." I step back, unsnap the waist of my jeans, unzip the fly and
start to slide them down, but you say, "No. Leave them. Fuck me now."
I raise your skirt, tuck the material into the waistband. You lean
forward, legs spread, one hand on the window sill. The other hand
reaches back between your legs, waiting for my cock. I slide my jeans
and shorts down just below my ass and step forward, my prick between
your legs, my hands on your hips. You take me in hand and stroke
yourself with the head of my cock. It slips easily between your wet
lips, back and forth. You press it briefly against your clit, then
center it. I press forward slowly, relishing the feel of you
surrounding me. Penetrating slowly, I stop before I reach your cervix.
Your hand finds my balls, you push back against me and pull on them
gently, till the head bumps against the mouth of your womb. You put
your hand on the window sill, bracing yourself, pressing back.
"Stay there. Don't move yet."
I press my hips hard against your ass, slide my hands up under your
sweater to cup your breasts. I lean forward to kiss your neck and
nibble on your ear. "You feel so good, so hot and wet," I whisper. I
nuzzle your neck, sucking at the tendons at the base. The light from
the sun on the snow outside highlights your hair; you are radiantly
beautiful. I pinch your nipples between my fingers, and you whisper,
"Now." I slide my cock back out of your cunt, until I feel your labia
against the head. I stop, and slide back in. Rippling velvet walls
grip and release me, encouraging me. I bump lightly against your
cervix, and withdraw again. There is no sound except our breathing and
the moist, gentle sucking of my prick inside you. I pull completely
free, feel cool air on my cock, and press back inside. I twirl your
nipples between my fingers, feeling them erect again. I slide my cock
out again, leaving just the head inside you, and I pause. You press
back, driving me in again, and I pinch your nipples. Your ass slaps
against my hips; I bite at the base of your neck, eliciting a soft moan.
I slide my hands down from your breasts to your hips, scoop your skirt
out of the way and reach down to caress your cunt. I finger your
clitoris gently, then slide two fingers back to press your labia around
the shaft of my cock as it pumps in and out. I slide them forward,
catching at your clitoris with a fingertip, then press it back firmly.
I have it trapped, and massaging it mercilessly between fingertip and
prick, I strive to push you to another crest. I pull back for yet
another thrust, and suddenly you're gone! My rigid cock bobs freely in
the air as you spin, grab my shirt front, yank it open. The flying
buttons land and clatter softly down the stairs. You hiss, "I want to
see your eyes when you come."
Leaning back against the sill, you lift your skirt and spread your
legs. I step up to you, bend my knees, and guide my prick between your
cunt lips. With one smooth stroke, I bury myself as deeply inside you
as I can go. I grab the bottom of your sweater, pull it up across your
breasts. Bending forward, still fully hilted, I grab one nipple with my
lips, lash it with my tongue. I give it one hard nip and pull away as
my hands seek out your ass; I grab you and lift you to me. You wrap
your arms around my neck, your legs around my waist. Our mouths come
together, and you brand me with your tongue and lips and teeth. I feel
your nipples, hard and hot, rubbing against my chest as I raise and
lower you on my cock, pumping hard, fast, and deep. As your nipples
slide across mine, I feel the tightening in my balls, the fluttering in
my gut that signals the start of my climax. Eyes closed, I break the
kiss and moan, "Oh, god, I'm going to come."
"No, not yet, not till I say. You can't come till I tell you. If
you come before I tell you, you'll have to do it over."
The distraction works; I suppress a snicker and open my eyes to look
at you. You're grinning, but I see a glassy hint of impending orgasm in
your eyes.
"Relax your arms and legs a bit," I tell you, "drop down just a
little." As you do, I let you slide away from me and then swing back.
Still driving in and out, I say, "Look down."
You follow my gaze down to our parting and rejoining hips; you can
see my cock driving almost horizontally into you, disappearing below the
curls of your pubic hair. We both stare, mesmerized, at the hard shaft
pistoning in and out. Each time my cock comes into view, it drags
smoothly across your clit; as I penetrate you again, the hood closes,
like a winking eye. Our universe contracts until it contains nothing
but my cock sliding over your clit and deep into you, the constant
friction of shaft on clit, the pressure of my hands on your ass, and the
warmth of skin on skin. We increase the pace; the slap of skin on skin
echoes off the bare walls of the stairwell. I feel your juices flowing
hot around my shaft, running down to my balls and cooling. The tension
in my groin mounts. I look into your eyes and see my lust reflected
there. Your face is contorting as your crisis looms, you're almost
there now. "Come with me, Kitten. Come while I fuck you." I punctuate
my words with energetic thrusts. The walls of your cunt ripple and
contract, "Now, Kitten, now!" I feel my muscles contract with the first
wave of my climax, I block it and hold it, draw you hard to me, crushing
chest against chest in one last, deep thrust. Your cunt grabs and
crushes me, overpowers my will. The universe contracts to a single,
white-hot point of throbbing cock in convulsing cunt, then expands
infinitely outward as we explode together.
=================================================
Short lifetimes later, I come back into myself. I am still holding
you to me, buried inside you; you are still wrapped around me, engulfing
and gripping. My cheeks are wet; I'm crying from the power of our
release. Your head rests on my shoulder; I cradle you and cuddle you.
I turn, step carefully out of the jeans that hobble me, and walk slowly
down the hall, moving cautiously to keep me inside you. Into the
bathroom, where I carefully lift you from my cock and set you on your
feet. I unzip your skirt, let it drop to the floor, peel off your
sweater and unfasten your bra. As you lean against the counter, I kiss
your lips gently. I wet a face cloth with hot water, kneel down and
wipe away the semen streaming down your thighs. Slowly, carefully, I
lave your swollen, tender labia. I set aside the cloth and kiss your
clitoris once, softly, then lift you up and seat you on the counter. I
rinse out the cloth again, and gently sponge off your breasts, pressing
the hot cloth against your still erect nipples. Your breathing is
softer and more regular now, you open your eyes. You reach out, pull me
to you, and our lips meet in a soft, sweet, prolonged kiss. I pull
away, and whisper, "I love you." You slide off the counter and into my
arms; for long moments we stand, embracing. You sit on the toilet to
expel the last of my semen; I bend over and steal another kiss. You
take the cloth and slowly clean me. Then you spank me once and say, "Go
get dressed, I'm late for work." I cross the hall, and go into the
bedroom.
I emerge from the bedroom, clothed once again, to find you dressed,
standing in front of the mirror, brushing your hair. You set down the
brush and step out of the bathroom. Hand in hand, we walk down the
hall. You stop at the head of the stairs, bend down and pick up your
purse and your lunch bag. I pick up your wet panties, saying, "I don't
think you want to wear these. I'll keep them for a while." You smile.
I come up behind you and put my arms around your waist, hug you close to
me. You gaze out the window at the blanket of snow on the ground and
murmur, "It's lovely...."
Copyright 1989 by Rev. Mark A. Foster - All Rights Reserved