Arousing Family

by Emelia Andersen

  "Sit down," she says, taking a remote control from a small side table and pushing a button.

  I sit down on the left side of the couch, not too far to the armrest and not too close to the center. She sits down on the right, about the same distance from the right armrest. We're about two or three feet apart.

  The monitor, which looks to be about ten feet in diagonal, is showing the Museum of Sex logo. "Are you ready?" she asks.

  "I don't know what to be ready for," I say.

  "That's right, you don't," she says, and clicks another button on the remote.

  The monitor displays the title "Softcore Pornography of the 1960s" for a few seconds, and then fades into a montage of grainy, dated footage of naked people—mostly female, but occasionally male—kissing and touching but not quite having sex. Many of the young women are very attractive, and many of them are kissing and fondling each other—one of my favorite subjects. If I wasn't sitting next to a prospective employer, my reaction would almost certainly be more enthusiastic and less restrained, but under the circumstances all it does is make me feel awkward.

  After another minute or two, a new title is displayed "Softcore Pornography of the 1970s." Now the women look less like flower children and more like Playboy models. The film is less grainy and the photography is more polished. The women mostly have larger breasts, look at the camera more seductively, and behave more sexually. I'm becoming aroused, and I cross my legs in an ineffectual attempt to rearrange my privates.

  "How are you doing?" Jane Williams asks me. "This is the sort of material you'll be working with here every day."

  "Fine. I'm doing fine. I like this sort of thing."

  "Let's just skip ahead," she says, pressing a button on the remote. A menu is displayed on the screen, and she scrolls down to "Current Hardcore Pornography." When she selects that, a long list of topics is displayed. She selects "Shuffle All."

  A moment later, the screen is filled with two young men lying on a rug fellating each other. I swallow hard. As far as I know, I don't have the slightest interest in having sex with another man, and the sight is fascinating, repelling, and incomprehensibly exciting all at once. But I have barely enough time to register what I'm seeing before the scene is replaced by one of a beautiful young woman on a bed on her shoulders and knees driving a large, realistic dildo into herself. I love watching women masturbate, but I don't particularly like seeing them use toys, yet once again the sight is almost unbearably exciting. I squirm in my seat, trying to rearrange the hard-on in my pants.

  On the screen the picture has changed again. Now it's two half-naked women on their knees in the center of a couch. They're kissing deeply, and their breasts are pressing against each other as they fondle each other's buttocks in tight-fitting bluejeans. This is closer to my usual preference, and I squirm more.

  Somehow my squirming has moved me closer to the center of the couch, and I find that my right knee is touching Jane Williams' left leg. I jerk my leg away, but to my enormous surprise I feel her hand on my leg just above the knee, pulling it back to touch her leg again.

  And it doesn't just pull my knee back against her leg. It stays there, and after a moment, it begins to move gently up and down along my thigh.

  The situation is so confusingly exciting that it almost no longer matters what's being shown on the screen before us: a woman pleasuring herself, or a man; two women with each other, two men, a man and a woman, or a larger group of people.

  On the couch in front of the screen, I'm sitting next to a woman who's my prospective employer, and she's sighing as she caresses my thigh with increasing emphasis.

  The screen is filled with an infinite variety of explicit sex, and Jane Williams moves her hand all the way up my thigh to my crotch. Her fingers find my fly and pull it down and free my aching, overengorged, rigid penis. I gulp as her small firm fingers caress me with almost fastidious delicacy.

  Her other hand finds my right hand and directs it to her own crotch. Somehow her short skirt has ridden up to her waist, and she presses my hand to her panties, which are completely wet. I slide my fingertips beneath them and find her labia. She sighs and spreads her legs further apart. Her clit feels as hard as my cock.

  On the screen, a man is fucking a beautiful woman in the ass, and she seems to be delighted. Next to me, Jane Williams shudders under my fingers and groans deeply. It sounds like she's having an orgasm.

  The scene on the monitor changes to a woman eating another woman. Still holding my cock with her left hand, Jane Williams slides off the couch and positions herself on her knees in front of me. Using her teeth and her free hand, she tears open a condom and unrolls it onto my cock. I'm watching a woman tongue another woman's pussy as Jane Williams envelops my cock with her mouth.

  I glance down from the scene on the monitor to the scene at my crotch. The sensations merge with the images and I'm overwhelmed. I hear myself groaning as I come again and again into the condom in Jane Williams' mouth as she sucks and sucks, gently fondling my balls with her right hand.

  Carefully, she lets my cock slip out of her mouth, wipes her mouth against the back of her wrist, pulls her skirt back down over her legs, and sits back down on the couch. The screen is still displaying an infinite variety of sexual interactions. She pushes a button on the remote control and the screen goes blank. She turns a switch on the table to her right and room lights go on. I see that there's a box of tissues on the side table to my left, and I use one to remove the condom. I put my now-flaccid penis back into my pants and zip up. I see a wastebasket below the table and toss the tissue.

  "Well," Jane Williams says. "I see that you can handle this material quite well." She stands up, and I do the same. "We'll be giving you careful consideration, and if we decide that we want you as an intern, we'll call you within the next week." She opens the door and leads me through her office and down to the exit.

  I was entertaining myself with that fantasy—or one of its several variations—when I got a call from a woman who identified herself as Jane Williams, from the Museum of Sex. She said that she'd found my cover letter and resume impressive, and that she'd like me to come in for an in-person interview. Just hearing that nearly made me come.

  The End.

  The Collar

  He was entering her unprotected for the very first time. She'd felt his hardness moving within her before, wrapped in the damnable latex sheath that strained against every contour of his beautiful cock. Taunting her, letting her feel exactly what she was missing. She'd also felt him in her mouth, stretching her lips to encompass the wide mushroom head and an inch or so of shaft. He was too thick to take much more than that.

  But how she loved that single inch she could take. The soft skin wrapped around a hard muscle, throbbing in her sweet little mouth; and it was little. So little that her teeth always scraped the sides of his member, making him gasp with pleasure and pain.

  Her mouth always ached after she fellated him, but it was SO worth it. Watching his body react to what she did turned her on so much. The way his thighs clenched when she pressed the tip of her tongue into the spot just below his glans on the underside of his shaft. The way he caressed her hair. The way his face looked pleased when she obeyed his command to suck him off.

  She had felt so timid the first time she tried to give him a blowjob. Her previous boyfriend had been much smaller. She'd been able to take most of him into her throat with ease. When Sir asked her if his larger member was more pleasing to her she had whispered, "Yes, it is most pleasing to me," and thought, more than you know.

  In the moment she felt surprised that he would enter her without protection. She gasped at the unfamiliar warmth of his skin touching her most sensitive of places. He sunk the familiar inch into her quickly and stopped. Her hips tried to rock more of him inside her, but he held her down with both hands to keep her still.

  "You want me," he whispered in her ear, sliding his lips down to her neck and biting it before she could reply.

&nbs
p; "Please, yes!" she gasped.

  "Aren't you afraid I might cum in you without pulling out first?" He seemed amused for a moment beacause she had to take a few deep breaths before replying.

  "I-I trust you. This feels so good, I trust you. I'm your woman. Now, please."

  "Please what?"

  Please what indeed. He felt so big. Too big. Like he'd been hiding half his girth in the condom the whole time, or he'd exchanged his old dick for a newer one a half size bigger. The bastard.

  She remembered the first few weeks of their courtship, the romantic dates that had melted into seductions that put her in touch with her submissive side. He'd broken her in each night, just like a new pair of shoes. Broken her stubbornness and stretched her pussy to accommodate his mass. Now when the doors were locked and the windows shut, she was lovingly obedient, attentive, and wet. She'd surprised him one evening by wishing she had a collar to wear around her neck when they were alone. The next day he'd bought one for her and she wore it the same night. That night she had begged him to cut himself loose and stop being so gentle with her tiny pussy.

  "I want Sir to pound me like I know he wants to," were her exact words

  He'd instructed her to suck him off instead.

  His exact words: "Suck me off".

  She'd been obedient and gone straight to work. Twenty jaw-aching minutes later her mouth was exhausted.

  "I thought I told you to suck me off, Slave"

  "I'm sorry Sir, I-"

  She should have guessed the game he was playing, but she hadn't, and that had made it all the more fun. He'd turned her over his knee and spanked her curvy ass until it was red, and then taken her from behind. Just the way they both wanted. It was glorious.

  The day after she had bought a small necklace with a charm in the shape of a lock to wear around her neck. Holding hands in public is an incredibly intimate act, it tells everyone whom you're going to bed with at the end of the night. The necklace sent a subtler message: that she was completely his. The subtle message of her love was now replaced with the overt message of the collar, and the wetness of her thighs.

  "This is the collar I'll wear in public, just for you," she'd said, and-

  The memories were pushed from her mind by a scream, hers.

  "Oooohhh GOD!"

  He was worming his cock inside her, just another inch, but it felt like a mile.

  "I know what you want, Slave," he growled, and covered her mouth with his.

  She knew he loved her mouth. It was tiny, pink, and so damned cute. He'd taken pictures of his cock in it to prove it to her. His tongue touched hers and she tasted coffee and wine.

  She wrapped her legs around him and pressed her hands against his chest lightly, clenching them slightly so her nails dug into his pecs. He growled as he pulled out only to plunge back in harder. This was his payment for her submission. His undying need with every heartbeat to give her everything she ever wanted, and then to surpass even that. And when what she wants most is the pleasure of his body in hers, he is more than happy to oblige by fucking her until she passes out.

  "I want all of it, all of Sir's cock, of Master's cock. You're my Master, my stud, my lover, my everything!"

  He bellowed and pulled out, his cock spewing gobs of cum onto her bush, then her tits, and finally a few spurts found her open mouth. She swallowed obediently as she had been taught. Once he was finished cumming he stood still for a moment, breathing heavy, before lowering his member back down towards her cunt.

  "Master's still hard," she whispered. He stared into her eyes and pushed himself into her. He didn't stop at one inch, or at two, or three. He just slid into her steadily. Her mouth couldn't form words, or her mind concepts; she just felt the pleasure of being filled. She began screaming after he passed the halfway mark.

  "Oh my god, I don't know if I can- AH! You're so big honey, please don't- don't'- DON'T STOP!"

  She threw her body towards his, wanting to get all of it inside with one movement and screamed some more. It hurt to take him like this, all at once, but it felt amazing too. He bit her neck again and screamed into the bruised flesh, shaking so hard she was afraid he might be coming. She felt his cock swell as if it might, but then the shaking stopped, and so did they. He was so in control, so hard, his body relaxed as he fought off the sensations.

  "Will you ever stop?" she whispered.

  "Stop doing what?"

  "Loving me like you do."

  "Never."

  "Say it for me, please?"

  "I will never stop loving you like I do, like you like me to."

  Their mouths found each other and the only sound in the room besides their muffled moans was the SLAP, SLAP, SLAP of skin on skin. He tastes the saltiness of his cum in her mouth and they both feel the slick sensations of it mixing with the sweat on their chests.

  When they pause the kiss and come up for air she asks: "Do you promise? Promise me again. Promise three times, three times to make it true."

  He slams his cock extra hard into her pussy on his next thrust and grinds it into her cunt to make her scream extra loud. Her nails dig into the skin of his back and leave bloody trails that he'll make her tend later.

  Through the haze of pain and pleasure she hears him growl an answer: "I promise". He pulls his cock out and slams in again, still harder. Again she hears him whisper his promise. His body shudders in a way that's unmistakable, and she knows that he's close. Her legs grip him harder to prevent him from even thinking of grabbing a condom. He tries to rise but he barely makes it halfway up and out before she insistently pulls him down again.

  "Promise me with your cum," she whispers.

  He breaks her grips on him easily, and pulls out until only the head remains in her. He grabs her wrists and pins them to the bed before slamming himself inside her one last time. He slams himself in so hard her tits slap against her chin, the bed moves an inch, and she screams so loudly that her voice might be hoarse come morning. Then she feels it. She feels her body being filled by warmth she's only felt through the barrier of a condom until now. The slick wetness of a man's emission being forced into her pussy, her cunt, her womb.

  She feels something snap inside her as she cums and loses sense of all reality. Her thighs quiver, her cunt contracts, and she feels him more intimately than she's ever felt anything before.

  They collapse into a sweaty, tangled heap on the bed. After a few minutes his cock softens and slips out of her. They huddle together, exhausted and happy. His arms wrap around her and hold her to his chest. She listens to his heartbeat for a few minutes before she falls asleep, sated, and full of Master's cum.

  The End.

  Bend Me, Break Me, Shape Me

  She awoke to a surrounding of pitch black around her. Squinting, she found she could make out nothing. Not even the bed she could feel beneath her. One she knew was not her own. A chill crept over her and she found that she wore only lace underwear and a lace bra. Feeling slight panic begin to swell inside her, she called out into the darkness.

  "Hello?" she called, pausing for a moment, fore she was sure that the sound of footsteps had just made themselves known to her left. Shuffling back to brace herself against the headboard, her heartbeat filled her ears like thunder.

  "Hello?" she called once more, reluctantly, before continuing, "I know someone is there. Who are you? What am I doing here?" She jumped and almost screamed when she was answered.

  "Awake at last," she heard. The voice was smooth like velvet and wrapped around her, emitting an involuntary shudder. Before she could speak the voice continued. "I have been waiting for this moment for a long time... Savannah. Such a sweet Southern belle name. Savannah." Her name seemed to roll right off his tongue and it sounded like he relished it.

  Edging away from the voice she reached out for the opposite side of the bed, remaining silent. It was already clear to her that this was not a place she should be. She didn't know who he was or where she was but she wouldn't let panic and fear overwhelm her. She
had to remain calm.

  "I'm sure you're formulating a plan at the moment," he began. "If there's one thing I've noticed in watching you, it's that you're clever. Oh so clever. And I admire that quality." She slowly slid off the bed, her bare feet meeting cold hardwood flooring. She reached out blindly, her fingers coming in contact with a wall. The thought that he had been watching her was particularly unnerving, but she decided she could analyze it later. For now, she would only keep her mind on one thing. Escape. Feeling along the wall she attempted to block out his luring voice. Trying to keep it from taking a hold, but he didn't stop talking.

  "I knew, from the moment I laid eyes on you that I simply had to have you," he said pausing with a sigh. "You see, Savannah, we are so very alike, you and I." By this time she had felt her way to a door. Cold hard steel met her touch and the knob wouldn't budge. Stopping for the moment, she knew she would get no further without at least some light. Turning towards the haunting voice she denied the tears that threatened to choke her and spoke out, "Go to hell."

  His laughter, deep and rich, met her ears, taunting her. "Oh yes. I like that. Willfulness. Spirit. I was counting on that from you, you know."

  "Who are you?" she asked, bewildered by his suave approach to the situation.

  "Dear me. It seems I've forgotten to introduce myself. Apologies. You may call me Denim," he answered and she could hear the amused smile on his lips.

  The sound of his footsteps clicked loudly on the wood floor as though he were wearing boots. Backing up against the cold metal of the door she found herself trapped as he drew ever closer. She felt his presence near on top of her and could feel his arms move out to brace on either side of her. He stood mere inches from her and his breath was hot on her face. Instinctively, she brought her knee up hard to his groin but was easily blocked. He had been expecting it. "Ooo...," he drawled out. "That was naughty."

  "Fuck you," she hissed out from behind clenched teeth, then spat out, blindly aiming for his face. Within seconds she felt the sting of a harsh slap as he backhanded her and the force of it knocked her to the ground.