From: redragon@interserv.com

   Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

   Subject: Darla

   Date: 14 Sep 1995 23:13:43 GMT

   Organization: InterServ News Service

   Message-ID: <43acv7$m64@data.interserv.net>

   DARLA.TXT

   It hadn't gone well, Darla thought, as she leafed through an old
magazine.  She shifted position, took her shoes off, and curled her feet up
comfortably beneath her on the couch.  Across the room, Michael was still
typing away.  They'd been working together quite well on the book, and then
he'd had one of his sudden fits of inspiration and had shooed her away,
irritably, because he didn't want her "looking over his shoulder."

   As if he hadn't looked over mine enough, she thought.  And leaned on it
at the same time.  I wish we could get an office with two desks, two
typewriters, and a brick wall between them!  With a sigh, she picked up
another magazine and slid farther down into the cushions that covered
Michael's couch.

   She'd just begun reading a fascinating article on archaeological
discoveries at Tell-el-Amarna when Michael spoke.  "Look, it's getting
late, and I have a lot of things to do in the morning.  Time for you to go
home."

   Darla closed her eyes for a moment.  All right, she thought, if that's
the way you want it...  She reached down, slipped on her shoes again,
tossed the magazine on the table and got up to go.  Her portfolio and purse
and all her papers had been left on the table by the door, and she turned
that way, unwilling to look at Michael.  Sometimes, she thought, I wish you
hadn't talked me into this so-called collaboration.  I wish you hadn't
insisted that we both work here at your place.  I wish you hadn't...

   He came into her field of vision, surprising her out of her train of
thought.  He stood there in the light reflected from the desk, shirt gone,
tenuous smile on his face.  If you really wanted me to leave, she thought,
why did you take off your shirt?  A smile replaced the sullen expression on
her face.

   "Gee, Michael, I've seen that half of you before.  Why don't you take
the rest of it off?"

   He looked down at himself as if to say, who, me?  "Ladies first," he
said.  "Or is it, you show me yours and then I'll show you mine?" His tone
of voice was light, slightly sarcastic.  "I'm just getting ready for bed
here."

   Hmmm, thought Darla, I bet he thinks that'll get rid of me.  By all
rights, it should, but I'm tired of doing everything his way.  "All right,"
she said softly, and without another word, she quickly unsnapped her jeans,
unzipped them, let them drop to the floor and stepped out of them.  "Like
this?"

   Dead silence in the room for a moment.  Then Michael said, "Now wait a
minute, put those back on.  That's not what I meant, and you know it."

   "No, Michael, I don't know it.  I just did as you asked.  We're not
playing this game by your rules any more.  You started it, and this time
you're going to have to finish it."

   Surprised at her own sudden courage, she slipped out of the large, loose
overshirt she wore, and dropped that to the floor as well.  Clad only in a
light pink tank-top and matching panties, she stepped out of her shoes and
walked closer to him.  He retreated.  Her eyes were fixed on his.  She
smiled.  Moving close to him, she lightly brushed her fingertips through
the soft hair on his chest.  He gasped, and held her hand still in his own.
She reached up with her other hand, and now held his hand in a warm
embrace.

   "Come on, Michael," she said, pulling him in the direction of his
bedroom.  For a moment, he resisted.

   "No," he said, "we can't do this.  Let's stop it now before things get
out of hand."

   "They're already well in hand, Michael, and you come with me now."

   "No," he said.

   "Yes," she said, and pulled him along by the hand.  He tried to pull
away from her, but not with any real strength, and then he followed.

   She led him into the bedroom, over to the bed, then turned.  "Lie down
here, Michael, and I'll help you take the rest of those clothes off."

   "I've been dressing and undressing myself for a few weeks now, you
know," he replied, sarcastically.

   "All right then, you do it.  I have some things to do here."

   She turned and walked away from him, opening the doors to his closet. 
She didn't look back at him.  After a moment, soft sounds indicated that he
was undressing.  She found his tie rack at the back of the closet and
looked it over.  Hmm, which ones look the softest, the most worn?  Which
ones will cost least for me to have sent to the cleaners, she wondered with
a smile.  I'm glad

   he has to wear suits to work -- this is a nice large collection. 
Sorting through the colorful array, she selected four that looked a bit
frayed around the edges.  Holding the ties in her hand, she folded the
closet doors shut.

   Michael was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling off his socks.  He
was still wearing a pair of light blue cotton bikini briefs.  It was
obvious that the situation was beginning to excite him.  She went to the
light-dimmer on the wall and reduced the illumination in the room to a soft
glow.

   "Lie down, Michael."

   "No."

   She walked over to him, ties dangling from her hand, and put the other
on his shoulder.  Her nipples had hardened under the thin tank top, and she
stood with legs slightly apart.  She looked directly into his eyes.

   "Yes," she said.

   Silently, he lay back across the bed, his feet still on the floor.

   "No, Michael, lie properly on the bed for me."

   He shifted position, bringing his feet up on the bed.  She sat down
beside him and took his left hand in hers.  She brought it up to her mouth
and traced the fingertips with her tongue.  He shivered slightly.  She
gently opened his hand and kissed the palm.  Then, she took one of the ties
and tied it gently, but firmly around his wrist.  He watched her, but made
no move.  Kissing his palm again, then biting him very softly on the soft
mound of flesh beneath his thumb, she laid his hand down on the bed and
tied the other end of the tie to the bedpost.

   Then, she took both hands and caressed his arm, softly, all the way down
to his shoulder, past it, over his nipple and down his side.  He wiggled
and gasped, but made no other sound.  She got up, taking the rest of the
ties with her, and walked around the end of the bed to the other side.  His
eyes followed her outline in the dimly lit bedroom.

   She sat down beside him on the other side, and traced his cheek lightly
with her hand, then brushed his hair back, allowing her fingers to slip
down and circle his ear, very gently.  He turned his head to the side,
trapping her hand between his ear and his shoulder.  She smiled.  Picking
up his right hand, she traced the lines on the palm with a gentle finger,
then her tongue.  She took each of his fingers in turn into her mouth and
sucked on them gently.  She looked down at him, saw the very light film of
sweat on his chest, and smiled.

   Then, she tied the tie gently around his wrist, put his hand on the bed,
and tied the other end to the bedpost.  Then, again, she took both hands
and caressed his arm, all the way down, over the shoulder, onto his chest,
circling his nipple with gentle, but insistent fingertips.  He wriggled,
pulling against the ties, but they held him in a firm grip of their own. 
Her hands continued down his chest, over his belly, making the skin
flutter, down his sides, down his right leg.  Making circles with her
fingertips, she shifted her position on the bed, caressed his leg, down to
his ankle, then onto his foot.  Being careful not to tickle him, she
massaged the foot.

   Then, she took another tie, tied it firmly around his ankle, stood up,
pulled his leg out a bit, and tied the tie to the footboard.

   Then she got up, moved back around to the other side of the bed, and
looked down at him.  This time, she remained standing, running the backs of
her fingernails slowly, gently, down his leg, beginning at the thigh,
reaching the ankle in slow degrees.  She picked up his foot and quickly
tied it to the bed.

   Her own breathing was coming more rapidly now.

   "My goodness, Michael, you didn't get completely undressed.  I wonder
what we'll have to do about that?" She looked at the large bulge under the
briefs and smiled.

   Darla looked at Michael on the bed for a long moment.  Her eyes were
closed slightly, and her breath was coming more quickly than before. 
Michael shifted on the bed, testing the strength of his bonds, and found
himself held fast.

   Darla watched him with a smile.  And then, suddenly, she turned and
walked out of the room.

   "Hey!  What IS this??" Michael shouted.  "Is this what you wanted? 
Leave me here like this?  C'mon!"

   "Just be patient, Michael," came her voice from another room.  "I know
that's not one of your virtues, but this time you really have no choice. 
I'm not leaving."

   He could hear the sounds of cabinet doors opening and closing.  He tried
to pull his hands loose, but the harder he pulled, the tighter the knot
got. He was still struggling when she reappeared.

   "You don't trust me much, do you, Michael?  I told you I wasn't leaving.
Now quit doing that before you cut off the circulation to your hand."

   She set the pile of things she'd been carrying on the floor.  Then,
deftly, she readjusted the tie on his left arm where his hand was beginning
to turn purple.

   "You're going to enjoy this, I promise you, so don't fight it."

   He lay back on the bed, panting, and looked at her.  Even in the dim
light, her own excitement was obvious.  She bent down and picked up two
large, slightly worn bath towels from the floor.  Sitting down, she laid
the folded towels on the bed beside him.

   "Turn away from me for a moment and let me slip this under you."

   He turned as far onto his side as the bonds would allow, and she spread
the towels beneath him, smoothing them out.  Her warm hand brushed against
his back, as if to smooth away the tension there as well.

   "All right, now roll back this way."

   She walked around the bed, pulled the towels out beneath him and
smoothed them across the bed.  There was now a layer of warm, soft
terrycloth beneath him from his neck almost to his knees.  Puzzled, he
watched her as she walked back to the other side of the bed.

   She picked up a small, heavy ceramic bowl from the floor and set it on
the bedside table.  And then, standing beside the bed, she began, very
slowly, to caress herself.  Her hands ran, teasingly, from her collarbone
over her breasts, circling from the outside toward the center.  Her eyes
were nearly closed.  Her back arched slightly and her shoulders moved from
side to side as her fingers

   moved inwards.  She held first one nipple, then the other, and pulled
them slightly outwards against the fabric of the tank top.

   Then her hands continued their slow, languourous travel, making their
way downwards.  Her fingers slid inside the waistband of her panties.  Her
eyes opened slightly and she watched him with a smile as she wiggled her
hips, very slightly, and slid her hands farther under the fabric, but then,
instead of continuing to the center, she slid her hands against her sides,
stepped back a bit, and slowly, slowly pushed the panties down.  As she
worked the panties down, farther and farther, she

   stepped back a bit more from the bed so that he could see her.  He
strained against the ties as he lifted his head to watch.

   She wiggled her hips and the panties slid the rest of the way to the
floor.  Quickly, she bent over and picked them up, rubbing the fabric
between her hands.

   "My goodness, I wonder why these are so damp?  Do you want to feel it,
Michael?" -- bringing the soft fabric up against his cheek as he turned his
head away.  "No?  Ah well, no loss.  Now, we need to do something about
you, don't we?" And with that, she dropped the panties to the floor.

   Her hand traced a path up his left leg, caressing him, gradually working
upwards.  When she reached the elastic on the leg of his briefs, she slid
two gentle fingertips underneath it, tracing the path of the elastic across
his leg, feeling the coarser hair beneath, teasing him, coming close to
where his bulge began, but never quite touching it.  He turned slightly
towards her and made a soft sound.  Her fingers slid a bit farther beneath
the fabric, then withdrew.  She drew the backs of her fingernails across
his belly, very gently, and watched the skin flutter and his back arch
involuntarily at her touch.

   Again and again, till he was writhing on the bed.

   "Stop it!" he gasped.

   "All right," she said, and moved back away from the bed, walking around
to the foot of it, never taking her eyes off him.  She climbed up on the
bed, to kneel between his legs.  Watching him, again, she began to caress
herself, her hands following the same path, but lingering longer on her
breasts, pulling the nipples out again and again.  Then her hands moved
downwards, up under the tank top, and she drew it up and over her head and
tossed it to the floor.  The soft light revealed a light film of sweat.

   Then she leaned forward a bit and reached up toward where his left hand
was tied.  With both hands, she caressed his arm, slowly working her way
downwards, using fingertips and fingernails in gentle concert.  She traced
her way down over his collarbone, his nipple (circling until he writhed
again) and again over his belly, making him twist under her hands.  This
time, she approached the waistband of his briefs and slid her fingers
beneath, sliding them down ever so slightly, releasing him a bit. 
Breathing faster but still smiling, she ran a gentle fingertip around the
ridge on his cock, only once.  His back arched again and he pressed against
her hand, his body wanting more.

   But her hands moved upwards to his other hand and arm, and again, she
repeated the slow downward massage.  By the time she reached his cock, he
was gasping.

   "Oh God, please..."

   "Please what, Michael?  What would you like?"

   "what...  oh...  in your mouth, please..."

   "Ah, but I can't do that while you have those on.  You should have
gotten undressed, you know?  What shall I do now?"

   Her fingertips pushed the waistband down a bit more, teasing him by
tracing a path through his hair.

   Darla knelt on the bed and considered the situation.  Then, lightly, she
began to trace the outlines of Michael's cock through the fabric of his
briefs.  Around, down, up, back, her hands made a path over the light blue
material, but they did not again touch bare skin.  He began to move his
hips in rhythm with her fingers, wiggling whenever she moved upwards in an
attempt to pull her hands where he wanted them to be.  Her fingers moved
down between his legs, teasingly, slipping inside the elastic now and again
to caress him.

   She bent closer to him, watching his reaction.  Her mouth opened
slightly, she bent her head down by her hands.  He moved his hips upward,
seeking her mouth.  Shaking her head, then, she brushed her hair over his
stomach, lightly over the head of his cock, and then straightened up.  He
flopped back on the bed in disappointment and looked at her.

   "Bitch," he said through clenched teeth.

   "Yes, Michael, all that and more."

   She looked down at him through hooded eyes.  And then, slowly, she put
her index finger in her mouth and sucked on it, moving it in and out of her
mouth.  Then two fingers.  He pulled against the ties that bound his hands.
They held him fast.  Angry now, he struggled, trying to break free, but she
made no move, kept sucking her fingers and watching him.  At last,
exhausted, he gave up.  She took two wet fingers out of her mouth and
traced them around the head of his cock.

   "Is that what you want?  Is it?" No answer.

   "I'll give you what you want, Michael, but you have to give me what I
want, too."

   Her fingers moved faster, feeling how slippery his skin had become,
spreading the fluids around in wider circles.

   "Yes," he said, pressing up against her hand.  "Yes."

   "Good," she said.

   Moving one leg over his, then the other, she slipped off the bed to
stand beside it.  Her hands slipped down inside the briefs, sliding them
down.  She reached around him; he arched his back to help her pull them
down.

   "Now, Michael, you have to do as I tell you, or I'll leave you here like
this and go home.  Understood?"

   "Yes..."

   Her fingers trailed down his left leg, making circles with the backs of
her fingernails.  He lifted his head to watch her.  She untied the tie from
the foot of the bed, and he wiggled his foot, unsure of what she wanted him
to do.  She reached up to slide the briefs down to knee level and he bent
his knee, allowing her to stretch the fabric over his knee and then down
and off his leg.

   He put his foot flat on the bed, knee still bent, and she ran her hand
down the back of his leg slowly, circling, still standing beside the bed,
finally reaching beneath him, probing, making him curl his leg up against
his chest to give her easier access.  She pressed the leg back down again
gently, withdrew her hand, and re-tied the tie.

   "Now, Michael, we both get what we want."

   She reached into the ceramic bowl on the bedside table and brought her
hands back out, shiny with oil.  She rubbed her hands together, then
caressed her breasts again, and again, sliding the oil over her skin until
she shone softly in the dim light.  More oil, and her hands moved
downwards. More oil, and she reached to caress him as well.  Her hands
moved over his chest, his shoulders, down over his stomach.  Dipping her
hands into the oil again, she placed them on his chest and climbed back up
to kneel between his legs.  She moved both hands down, tracing a circle on
his stomach, moving down between his legs.  Then her hands slid gently
upwards again, upwards, but this time, she shifted her position so she was
leaning close to him.

   The higher her hands reached, the closer she came, until by the time her
hands reached nearly to his wrists, her nipples were brushing against him.
Oiled skin against oiled skin, she slid down, the pressure light but the
contact unbroken, until his cock was between her breasts.  She shifted from
side to side, rubbing him in gentle circles.  His back arched, and she
allowed him to press more firmly against her for a moment.

   Then she began to slide her hands gently upwards along his skin again,
raised herself up a bit.  Panting, he looked at her, trying to guess what
she would do next.  She smiled.  Then she sat up, straddling his legs, and
wiggled her hips until he could feel her, warm, wet, soft cunt brushing
against him.  She reached down to hold his cock against her and began
moving her hips slowly, rocking back and forth.  He pushed up against her,
moving in rhythm, hoping that soon, she would slide him inside her, pulling
against the ties on his arms as he kept pace with her motions.

   As his breathing began coming in ragged gasps, she realized how very
aroused he was, and stopped her motion.

   "No, Michael, not yet.  I'm not ready yet.  Wait for me."

   She sat back a little bit, settling down against his thighs, and began
to caress her breasts with both hands.  Her fingers made rapid circles on
the lightly oiled skin, moving inwards to the nipples, pulling them out,
rolling them between her fingers, releasing them, circling outwards again.
Soon, one hand moved down her stomach, circling, brushing through her
short, curly pubic hair, sliding in between her lips.

   In the darkened room, tied on the bed as he was, Michael could not
really see her hand, but he could tell by the motion of her body that she
was moving it faster, sliding it down between the lips caressing herself as
far back as she could reach.  She moaned softly and brought the hand
forward again, teasing herself, circling, never quite touching the center
of her desire.

   He watched as her hands moved in rhythm, one up, one down, and she began
to rock back and forth, panting, making small soft sounds of desire.

   Suddenly, she wrapped both arms around herself.

   "Michael, are you ready?"

   "Yes," he whispered.

   "Yes," she echoed, and moved forward a bit.

   She reached to caress his cock with both hands, feeling how wet it was,
sliding her fingers over it to spread the lubrication around, the wetness
from her hands adding to his.  And then she rose on her knees, moved
forward, holding him with both hands, and slowly, slowly, brought him into
position and settled down against him just a bit.  He slid inside her, just
a little, the slick warm skin sliding easily.  They both gasped as he slid
inside.

   She kept her hands in place as she settled farther down, slowly, slowly
allowing him to slide farther inside.  He pushed up against her, but she
was tight with desire and he could not make himself slide in any faster. 
Deeper and deeper, until finally, he was all the way inside her.  She
stopped for a moment, and he could feel her muscles tighten against him
still more.

   And then she began to move.  Slowly at first, she began to rock her
hips, sitting up but leaning slightly forward, rising up so that he slid
almost all the way out, sliding him back within her again.  The lubrication
increased and they moved faster against each other.  Her hands went back to
her breasts, pulling the nipples out in rhythm with her hips.  Faster and
faster she rocked, up and down, back and forth, her hands in constant
motion.  She seemed to want to draw him deeper and deeper inside her.  And
then her breathing changed...  the rhythm changed...  he could feel the
ripples inside her as her climax rocked her again and again.  It was too
much for him.  He pushed up against her, again and again, making her move
with him, faster and faster.  She went with him, willingly, reaching down
to hold him against her as his body twisted in climax as well.

   And then, she relaxed against him, nestling against his chest,
straightening her legs out so that she lay on top of him.  They were
panting, making soft sounds.  He was still inside her, but growing softer,
sliding out.  She chuckled, and tightened up all her muscles, trying to
squeeze him farther out.  He pushed up against her, but weakly, and finally
slid out, feeling the wetness between them.

   "Did you get what you wanted?" he asked.

   "Yes," she said, and reached up to untie his hand.