by Ella Hilton
He was 5'10" with a little beer gut and bald with the beginning of the greying process for that rim of hair that was in need of a trim. His circumcised penis was probably average but clearly spent and limp and needing to recharge. He had great legs and a nice ass. Some minor scars on his face over his eyes gave him a little character. He was a great kisser and she knew that she wanted lots more of his lips all over her body.
His hands were magnificent. It wasn't that they looked special--it was the they way they touched her. His ad had read, "Soft Hands seeks Secure & Sexy" Now she knew the true meaning of soft hands. She had thought it pertained to his athletic ability. She had heard that sports expression about soft hands many times when watching football with her friends.
She excused herself and after a brief trip to the bath went to the kitchen and returned to the living room with a glass of drambuie. She had decided it was now her turn. They still hadn't spoken and for this moment she didn't care. She took a big sip and passed the glass to him. He smiled and wondered how she knew that he really liked drambuie. There was much to be discovered. As he cradled the glass in his hands after taking a few sips she reached out and took the glass and put it on the table. He was now sitting on the couch, still naked and smiling. She then took his hands and gently placed them on her breasts. She forced out over the lump in her throat "Please continue."
And he did.
Nature took over and his hands and mouth were everywhere at once. His tongue dashing over her erect nipples and then exploring her inner thighs. And his hands. Oh his hands. Constant motion. Kneading and then caressing, stroking and then playfully pinching they just kept moving - and pleasing her. --- But now it was her turn. She knew she wanted him in her mouth. She loved to have a soft cock slowly grow hard as she licked and sucked. She pushed him away and said, "It's my turn now."
The End.
Sara's Plan
Sara pressed the Send button. "Let the game begin," she whispered to herself, looking at her watch again. It was just past 10 p.m. "Two hours to go," she said, feeling a tremor of excitement. Two hours. Two days? Four? She never knew.
This was how it always began. E-mail. She had thought of it one night after coming across a rerun of an episode of "The X-Files". Whenever he wanted to make contact, Mulder would tape an "X" to the inside of his apartment window. Then he would wait. Now she waited. Would it be soon? Part of her hoped not. The anticipation, the desire, the lust, these were all part of the adventure.
Tonight's message had been a simple one: "You are needed here". Start small, she had thought, and let it build up gradually. Make him wait four days this time, maybe five. Tease the beast. The beast. It was an apt description, at least physically. He was well over six feet tall; heavily muscled; large, strong hands; beautiful blue eyes; and hung. Huge. It made Sara wet just thinking of it, his thick, meaty cock.
Would he try tonight? She hoped not. It would be too tempting to let him in, let him take her. As good as it would be, always was, she wanted to wait, to make him wait also. That was a large part of the fun, the excitement, never knowing when, exactly. The window of opportunity would open at midnight and close at 3 a.m. That was one of the rules. He could try on any of the next seven nights, but only between those times. He had a key to the lock; one of the locks, anyway. She controlled his entry, controlled everything about the relationship. She liked it that way. So did he.
They had met several years earlier when she took a job at SoftCo; there had been a spark between them from the start. They had gradually become better acquainted. A mild flirtation had developed. They would talk over coffee or lunch, occasionally. After she took a different job they had dated several times. It had been fun but they had both realized that the age difference was a problem. She was 25; he was 44. Too bad, she often thought. They were great together in so many ways but both of them knew that it wouldn't work in the long run; still, they had been unable to let go, had continued their sexual relationship. Over the past year it had evolved into this, the Game, as she called it.
There were rules; her rules: No phone calls, only E-mail. Just one encounter per month. After the initial contact, he had seven nights to get to her. If he was out of town, he was out of luck. So was she. No break and enter; if the door was locked, that meant not tonight. Once he was in the door, she called the shots; he was there to service her needs. She set the tone: respectful, considerate, gentle, but rough when she said so. He could say no to anything that made him uncomfortable; she could, too.
"I hope you're out there," she said, smiling, feeling excited, as she bolted the extra lock on her front door. She was going to take him on the ride of a lifetime; tease him until his balls ached. "This will be our best encounter yet," she said. "As long as I can stick to my plan."
Sara had been thinking of him all weekend. She had mapped out a series of moves and prepared some material with which to tempt him: images, audio clips, video clips. She would feed them to him over the next few days, via E-mail, slowly driving him crazy. It would be perfect, if she could just make it through tonight. That was the question.
She was going out of town on business in the morning, wouldn't be home until Thursday. Not that he knew this. She had always been home before, during each encounter. Even if the door was bolted, she had been there, listening to his key in the lock. He would try the door but never knock, never try to force it open. That was not allowed, no matter how badly he wanted her.
She would leave the door unbolted when she left in the morning. The thought of him entering her home, searching for her, wanting to fuck her, not finding her there, was so exciting. Would he return every night, looking for her, she wondered. Would he follow her instructions telling him to watch the DVD that was cued up in her machine? How would he feel, watching himself fuck her on film? Would he masturbate?
They had filmed themselves several months ago. The results had been better than she had expected. It was so erotic. Sara had watched it a couple of times but never shown it to him. Now he would get a preview, bit by bit; various clips of it attached to her E-mails to him. The clips would start with a mild tease and build to a climax. Four in total, one each day that she was away.
The first teaser consisted of several images showing Sara from the neck down, naked. She had a great body. Fantastic, she had to admit. Not that she didn't work for it at the gym. He had taken the pictures with her digital camera: black and white images showing her in a heavy contrast of light and shadow. They would get things started rather well, she knew. He loved her body. She could arouse him to a full erection just by stripping. That would bring him running on Monday night. Like a dog in heat.
The second one was an audio clip. Listening to it earlier had made her wet. Her moaning was punctuated by the soft cries she gave out each time he thrust into her. The sounds of their thighs slapping together were audible in the background. "Welcome to phase two," she had thought as she edited the clip, an evil grin on her face. "You'd better fasten you seat belt, big boy. It's going to be a rough ride." Tuesday night he would be having the blue ball special.
Wednesday she would send a video clip. It was a good one, a close up of her face. She had zoomed in from the wider angle so that he could see the look in her eyes. It was a very distinctive look. She had seen it before in porn films, on the faces of other women. The vacant expression, head to one side, eyes rolled back, maybe a slight smile. She could recognize it every time. It always meant the same thing. The woman was getting fucked. Hard. By a really big cock. The kind of cock that took fucking to a new level. She loved the scene, remembered the feeling, being on her knees, her elbows and face on the carpet as he pumped her from behind, his big balls slapping her clit each time he bottomed out. She would tell him about the DVD this time; let him watch it, relieve the pressure.
Thursday would be the cruelest day of all. This time the teaser was a video clip that showed him going down on her, giving her "Oral Pleasure" as she liked to call it. Oral pleasure. It was a
line from the movie titled "Pulp Fiction". She would jokingly speak in a French accent, politely asking him to make her cum. He always said yes. They had set the camera at the foot of the bed. His head filled the bottom of the screen. Her quivering body was behind him. Sara had enhanced the audio so he would be certain to hear every nuance of the cry she was emitting while she came. "This should just about kill the old man," she had said. "I am such a naughty girl."
Sara heard a noise at the door. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand: 12:15 P.M. She must have fallen asleep. He was there, trying to get in. "Someone is very horny this month," she thought. "Good. By the end of the week I'll have a raging bull on my hands." The thought of it made her wet. She was tempted to get up and open the door.
"No. Not tonight. I must be strong," she told herself as she reached for her drawer of toys.
Soft Core
David and I have this secret. Once a month we take turns surprising each other with a night of sexual domination. The riding crop comes out of the closet, along with whichever toys we like, and the lingerie hugs my thighs and torso like a tight fist wrapped around a hard cock. It was my night to turn the tables, and possibly make him fuck me on top of one.
I waited on the bed for him, as he was due home from work any minute. I'd just gotten a complete waxing the day before and was smooth as silk from head to toe. I was clad in a black leather bustier and matching thong. The strap rubbing the crevice between my ass cheeks had me getting a little flushed. I played with the riding crop, tapping my palm with it as I waited. I was ready for him.
It was half six. I'd been waiting for a half hour. He usually was home no later than six without a phone call. He was being bad. I grew annoyed with his lateness and thought up some especially harsh punishments for him to endure later. The bottle of red on the nightstand looked lonely, so I uncorked it and took a swig. Then another. Then another. Before I knew it I had fallen back onto the black satin sheets I had made the bed with, a dim glow of candles reflecting off the dresser mirror making my tipsy vision of a bedroom seem more like a cave.
The mirror image of myself before me began to play tricks with me, for then there was more than one person. An image of David peered over me on the bed. He removed his overcoat, and then his shirt, and then his trousers. He was left wearing the black boxer-briefs I bought him. They hugged his ass like a glove, and I moved a hand up to touch it, well, feel it, grip it, hold it in the palm of my hand.
"Are you ok?" he asked me.
His face revealed a look of pity, but all in good fun. Apparently, my role of dominatrix that night had changed. It was the wine that now had me in a state of submission.
"This isn't what I had planned," I muttered.
At that, I managed to sit up letting my dark hair fall around my shoulders. I felt like a vision of ravenous beauty before my curious lover, and so I looked up into his eyes, batted my lashes and swung the riding crop around to meet his glorious ass.
"Hey!" he yelped, trying to grab the crop from my hand.
I laughed and brought it behind me, leaning back so he couldn't weasel it out from under me.
"Shut up," I commanded, however slurring my words. "From now on. You do what I say."
David raised an eyebrow. His smile showed that he was more concerned for my own well being than for his at that moment. Even so, he played along, zipping his mouth shut in pantomime.
My hand, slid around on his ass and I continued to feel my lover's taut muscles. I let my fingers run along his crevice and prodded the entrance to his hole with one. He stood in front of me at the bed, parting his legs for me while I felt around and inserted a finger. He exhaled with a little grunt of pleasure and I rammed my finger inside him just for failing to be silent.
"Shhh," I said sternly. His erection was apparent beneath his black briefs, and I placed my other hand on it to make him more aware. "You dare to rise before me?" He looked at me and bit his lip. I removed my swirling finger from his hole and pulled his pants down to the floor. "Now, this is more like it."
His cock was alert and waiting for a playmate while his balls hung pink and large, filled with cum to be shot into me at my command. His eyes had a look of anticipation, as if he thought I would be the one to go down first. I scooted forward on the bed, leaning back on my hands with my knees spread around him.
"On your knees," I told him. He quietly got down on his knees, just at the level of my face. "Remove my panties." He obeyed, sliding his hands up my thighs and gripping the leather panties with his fingers, then sliding them down my legs and past my ankles. I kicked them off and they hit the bedroom door with a thwack. "Now put your tongue on my clit and pleasure me."
I inched forward and guided his head down into my cunt with my hand. His tongue met my quivering clit with much fervor, licking and flicking and generally driving me wild. My juices flowed and he obediently licked them right up, keeping my pussy clean and tidy as I became more and more drenched in pleasure. I pushed his face into me and moaned loudly as he ate me out. My nipples became so hard inside my bustier, I could feel them chafing.
"Stop!" I said, not wanting to come yet. He looked up, his hair tousled, eyes alert, lips blushed and glistening with my juices. "Take this thing off me."
He put his hands around my waist, looking for the clasps around my back. Once he found them, he began removing them one by one, his mouth and my scent lingering close to my face. His arms around me, and his heart beating through his chest against mine made me crazy in love with my loyal subject. Fuck the poor attempt at domination; I was a complete sucker for him and he knew it.
Once he removed the garment from my chest, he put it beside me on the bed and looked at my tits, now freed and ready to be touched by his warm skin.
"Now place your mouth on them and do that thing you do."
He smiled and slowly pushed me back onto the bed. He was on top of me now, his arm around me, his lips adoring my breasts, tongue flicking and flirting with my nipples, sucking and kissing as I moaned to myself. His free hand came down to meet my warmth below and he nestled his fingers between my moist pussy, rubbing in circles, exploring the skin around my clit, bringing me closer to climax.
"Now stop," I said.
I knew if I didn't get on all fours for him to fuck me then, that I'd come too soon. I rolled over away from him and onto my stomach, the satin sheets caressing my skin like the touch of his fingers. I brought my knees in and sat up on all fours, looking him seductively square in the eyes.
"Fuck me."
He cradled his cock in his hand to make it extra hard and got up on his knees behind me.
"Feel free to make some noise," I said before he teased my sopping wet pussy with the tip of his shaft.
"Yes, Dear," he said sweetly, hungrily.
His cock, engorged and hungry for my cunt slid deep into me, his balls rubbing up against my throbbing clit as he inserted it to the hilt. I let out a small cry and he groaned a little at how good it felt. He was so full inside of my slippery cunt that I had to spread my legs further apart to accommodate him. I put my arms down in front of me and rested my head on them while I had my ass in the air, and his manhood pumping in and out of me. I let out a groan each time he pushed himself in.
"Oh, fuck," I cried. He moved in deep. "Oh, fuck." And out. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck, ffffuuuuuck..."
It was then that he had slammed himself into me so fast and hard that I buckled at the knees and came with a dizzy burst of pleasure. He groaned loudly and suddenly and shot his hot cum into me as my cunt muscles tightened around his cock. I could feel his spunk oozing in the spaces between his shaft and my canal and I melted into a submissive little sex kitten for my lover.
He stroked my ass and rubbed my waist with his hands as we shifted positions and curled into each other on the bed.
"Was I too hard on you?" I asked, turning my head to search for his eyes.
He sighed, satisfied and kissed my cheek then nib
bled on my ear.
"No, Dear," he said, "I had it coming."
Red Ribbons
She had been pleasantly surprised when she came home from work and found the note telling her to meet him at her favorite Bed and Breakfast for their Valentine's Day Date. Her favorite outfit was laid out on the bed—silk and leather always made her feel sexy. And there could be no mistaking his intent; a lacy garter belt, seamed stockings, and her red fuck-me-pumps were laid out as well. She shivered a little with anticipation. Something told her this weekend was going to be something special. The note said to get ready, everything else she needed was already there, and to meet him at the B&B at 7 p.m. sharp. She quickly showered, perfumed, and dressed, and dashed off to meet him.
Her heart started beating hard when she knocked on the door to their suite. He answered the door. Grinning, he moved aside so she could step into the room.
