Home paradise

Sally Slut Wife

christelle.nospamplease@nospam.pornlivenews.com — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 07:07:17 +0000

When we walked into the bar, Sally was a little nervous. Sally is my wife. She is a slut,plain and simple. She loves to fuck. When we first me, she told me that her old boyfriends had all told her she was the most fuckable woman they knew. So many men have deposited their loads of cum in her in her 46 years the she has lost count. We've decided that she was probably a whore in a past life. While she would just as soon be a whore today as well, she doesn't want to take the chance of getting arrested. I have plenty of money to keep her, so she just gives it to men for free.

Anyway, we sat down in a booth and ordered drinks. As Sally drank her screwdriver, she got more relaxed and I could tell she was already getting wet in anticipation of the afternoon. Framed by her short blonde hair, her blue eyes sparkled with excitement.

I looked at my slut wife and remembered how we got started. After we got married just five years ago, she told me of her fantasies about doing a threesome. I told her I also fantasized
about sharing her with another man. While she had fucked many men, she had never had more than one at a time. For five years we fantasized about threesomes and gang bangs during sex but
this year we finally decided to turn fantasy into reality. Through the Internet I arranged for a man to meet us at a local dance club. Sally was at her best, charming and extremely sexy. Before long they were dancing together and kissing on the dance floor. I returned from a trip to the restroom to find them at the table with her hand on his thigh and his on her breast. From there we went to a hotel. This stranger came inside my wife and later covered her tits with his cum. I participated and watched. The next week our sex was fantastic.

This meeting was our second. I had contacted a gentleman on the Internet who said he was interested in watching a couple having sex. Sally was dressed in a conservative outfit, but under it she wore a bra that pushed up her 38C breasts, exposing her nipples. She had a waist cincher with bikini panties that untied at the side. Her legs were covered in black net stockings and she wore black high heels. Just as we were finishing our first drinks, Mike walked up. He was good-looking and Sally was immediately attracted to him. He sat across from us in the booth and Sally ran her foot up his leg as we talked. Mike was around 50; he said he was married but his wife wasn't interested in sex anymore. At that time all he wanted to do was watch, but I decided at that moment that I would have Sally fuck him as well. She gets really turned on by the idea of satisfying other women's husbands. I didn't tell Mike because I wanted it to be a surprise. We soon decided to leave the bar for the motel room we had booked.

Mike and I sat in the room while Sally stripped down to her sexy outfit. We sat in two chairs facing the bed waiting for Sally to put on her show. I turned on some music and then Sally entered the room and began dancing for us. Almost immediately Mike was breathing harder as he watched her round ass gyrate and her large breasts bounce. Sally eventually kicked off her shoes and had us take a stocking off each leg. Then she asked Mike if he would like to suck on her breasts.

"Of course," he said.

While he was sucking on her breasts I leaned over and slid my hand up her thigh, massaging her pussy through the bikini panties. Her panties were beginning to get soaked, she really wanted to fuck.
As Sally pulled away from Mike, I commanded her, "Suck my dick." She immediately obliged, kneeling on the carpet and opening
my pants.
"You are such a great cock sucker," I moaned.
"She is so hot," Mike said. After a few minutes I ordered Sally to undo Mike's pants and suck his cock. He looked surprised but
grateful.
"Do you like my slut wife?" I asked.
"Oh yes," he moaned as her head bobbed up and down.
"Your cock is so hard and tastes so good," Sally said as she stood up.
"You look so good in sexy clothes; bet Mike would like to see you in a different outfit," I told her.

While Sally was in the bathroom changing, Mike told me he thought she was incredible. I could tell that all it would take was permission from me and he would fuck her. But I didn't say anything yet. Soon Sally came out of the bathroom. She had pulled on a Hooters crop top that just barely covered her large firm breasts. Her erect nipples pushed hard against the fabric. Below, she had stripped to the black string bikini panties. She walked over to Mike and gave him a wet kiss.
"I hope you enjoy watching us." Then she got on her knees and began sucking on my cock again. Mike moaned as he watched us, his hand stroking his cock.
"Come suck me on the bed," I said.
We climbed on the bed. I put several pillows behind me and sat upright. Sally got on her knees on the bed and started sucking me again. After a few moments I gestured to Mike to get on the bed behind her.
"Untie her panties," I told him. He did, exposing her wet
and ready pussy.
"Spread your legs for him," I told Sally. She obligingly spread her legs as she knelt in front of me.
"Now fuck my slut wife," I commanded Mike. He plunged his cock deep in my wife's pussy.
Sally took her head away from my dick long enough to tell Mike, "Your cock feels so good, fuck me hard."

Then she returned to her sucking while Mike pounded her from behind. She was like a piston between us. Each of his thrusts pushed my cock deep in her mouth. As he pulled back for his next thrust, her mouth would slide up my cock. Then his cock would plunge
into her pussy again, pushing her forward. After a while, I moved around to the back to watch as his cock plunged into my wife. Leaning forward on her elbows, with her ass high in the air, my
slut wife moaned and gasped while this stranger fucked her.
"I want to fuck her now," I told Mike.

He obligingly pulled his cock out of Sally's wet pussy. As I plunged my cock into her, I could feel her wet juices running down her thighs. Mike laid down on the bed and she started sucking his cock as I fucked her dog style. Pulling her head away from his cock for a moment, Sally gasped, "I love to be fucked like a dog. Fuck me like an animal."
"She's a real slut isn't she," I said to Mike.
"Oh yes," he said, "Let's come in her at the same time."
"Sounds good to me," I replied.
I began to thrust harder and deeper into Sally's pussy as I could feel the semen build in my balls.
"I'm cumming," I groaned.
"So am I," said Mike.
My cock squirted its sperm deep in my wife's cunt as I kept thrusting.
"Oh I love cum in me," Sally breathed. She had pulled Mike's cock out of her mouth and aimed it at her tits. At that moment, Mike's cock started shooting cum all over her tits. Both Mike and I kept cumming in and on her for what seemed like minutes. When we were finished, Sally rolled over on her back and started rubbing Mike's semen into her breasts.

"Your hot cum feels so good on my skin," she purred. As she writhed on the bed, rubbing his cum all over her chest, I could see my cum oozing out of her pussy. My slut wife had experienced her second threesome. This was just the beginning of sexual adventures that would eventually lead to her peak performance as the main attraction of a gang bang.

Our First Meeting

christelle.nospamplease@nospam.pornlivenews.com — Thu, 22 May 2008 08:53:16 +0000

We decided to meet at the nearest motel in my town, as we talked about before I wasn’t going to wear a bra or any underwear, I was also wearing a short skirt, and a sexy tank top that showed my midriff. I thought it would just be some casual sex. I was going to get the surprise of my life. I knew that we had talked about bondage before, but I didn’t think that it would turn into reality.

It was Saturday afternoon, I knew Stephen would be here any minute, I was already at the motel, getting the room. I was waiting outside the entrance of the motel with the motel key, for my gorgeous lover to come. I was so wet, and horny it was unbelievable. We had been talking online for what seems like forever but in reality it was just over 4 Ѕ yrs , I fell in love with my lover the first time we met online, which seemed like yesterday.

He pulled up in his car, and got out. He had his overnight bag and another bag that I didn’t know what it had in it, I would soon find out. I walked over to him, and hugged him and gave him the most passionate kiss I have ever giving to a guy before. I told him that I had the motel room, and to follow me. Stephen followed me as I led him up the stairs to room 117. We got inside the room, and he put his overnight bag on the floor next to the bed. He sat the other bag down on the bed. I sat down on the opposite side, he came over to me and we kissed passionately again, as I started to remove his shirt, then he removed my shirt, within a matter of minutes we were both fully naked. His 8 inch cock standing straight at attention waiting for some attention. He opened his bag sitting on his bed and he pulled out 4 pairs of hand cuffs and 3 nipple clamps, a blindfold, and a small 6-7 inch vibrator. I thought oh my God, is the bondage that we talked about going to really be my reality, the answer is yes, yes it is.

He put the half full bag on the floor and started to kiss me, probing his tongue in my mouth, I opened my mouth to let his tongue intrude my mouth. He gently laid me down on the bed never letting go of the sweet kiss he was giving me. He had the handcuffs and his other bondage material set to one side, he got up and took all four pairs of handcuffs and one by one he handcuffed my wrists and legs to the headboard and footboard of the bed. I was now sprawled out on the bed my legs and arms making a ex on the bed. He took the 3 nipple clamps and put one on each nipple, and one on my clit. This was making me squirm and so horny, but the excitement and the suspense was killing me. He then took the blindfold and put it over my eyes. I could see nothing now, but I could still feel his embrace on my body, as he moved his hands over my boobs, tweaking the clamps that were on my nipples, kissing my lips again in a passionate embrace, it was driving me insane but I loved every minute of it.

I could hear him whisper sweet nothings in my ear. I could feel him moving to my pussy, slowly working his way to my shaved pussy lips, pulling on my puffy lips, I could feel his tongue down on my lips also. He removed my clit clamp, so he could have better access to my prized possession. I was squirming, bucking and thrusting his mouth to hurry up and eat me out. I was dieing for him to make me cum, I had waited so long, and by the looks of it I would have to wait a little bit longer. His tongue finally reached my love button I let out a soft moan of pleasure, I could of came right there, but I held on, not to spoil the mood. He gently nibbled on my clit, licked and sucked it, probing his tongue deep into my hole. I was going insane.

He finally stopped, I don’t know what he did for the next several minutes, but I felt his cock reach the entrance of my hole. He was going to take my virginity, and I couldn’t do anything about it, I didn’t want to do anything about it, I wanted him to fuck me, fuck me so hard, for him to cum deep within my loins. He asked me if I was ready, and I said yes, fuck me hard, please. He wasted no time at all, he thrusted his cock, and I yelled out in pain, he was still for a few minutes for me to get used to his cock inside of me, I told him I was ready, he thrusted his cock deeper and deeper till it could go no further. He started to fuck me slow at first, then speeding up the pace, faster and faster, my orgasm was building, as I clutched his cock with my pussy muscles, within a few moments, I was yelling out I am cummmmmmmiinnnnnnnnng as I began thrashing and bucking, with a earth shattering orgasm, I yelled out, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, yes, yes , shoot your cum in me please.

Hearing those words, sent him over the edge as he exploded, load after load, I could feel his hot spunk inside of me as he emptied his balls deep within my pussy. He finally slumped on top of me, spent. Stephen reluctantly pulled out after a few minutes. He removed my blindfold, and asked me how I liked that, and I said I loved it and that I would love to do it again and again and again. I wasn’t surprised to see he was still hard He removed my handcuffs on my wrists only so we could better position ourselves.

We were now in a 69 position. He took his cock and placed it at the entrance of my mouth, I started to immediately suck his cock. Slowly, he started to thrust his cock deep in my mouth till finally I was deep throating him. With each out thrust I would rub up and down his shaft of his cock, with each in thrust I would cup his balls and massage them. While I was doing this to his cock, he was at the other end, licking the inside of my thighs, my pussy lips, he probed too fingers deep within my freshly fucked pussy, he was searching for my g-spot, yes yes up, to the right ooooooooh, riggggggghhhtt thhheeerrree I moaned.

He started thrusting faster and faster I bucked faster and harder, as we both built up to breathtaking climaxes. I knew the moment was coming, sooner than later. Then it happened, I started squirting, my cum all over his face, as he licked my cum and sucked harder on my clit. He started thrashing, fucking harder and harder. Then, It hit me, he started spewing his hot seed into my mouth, I drank it like it was the last thing on earth to drink, I drank most of it but some of it ran down my chin, I tried to get as much as possible.

He un-cuffed my legs, and laid down next to me in the spooning position, with his hard on trying to intrude my ass. I have to wonder what will come tomorrow morning and what that 6-7 inch vibrator is for, and What else does he have up his sleeve or shall I say in his bag

A Night of Sex

christelle.nospamplease@nospam.pornlivenews.com — Thu, 22 May 2008 08:52:16 +0000

My girlfriend Lena and I sat on the couch in our apartment watching television the other day. I have forgotten what we were watching, but no matter, I'm more interested in remembering what we did during the show. My girlfriend is twenty-two, like me, with a great body. She has long, dark auburn hair that curls slightly, light green eyes and pale, smooth skin. Her body isn't too skinny nor too big, just right.

That night, Lena was wearing a loose skirt and tank-top with no bra as she cuddled up next to me. She has a very strong submissive streak and loves to cuddle with me, where she feels safe. That submissiveness also gives us plenty of fun with sex, we've tried spanking, bondage, and role-playing. Whenever Lena is feeling playful and submissive, she loves to call me Master in a sweet, girly voice that never fails to excite me.

I was growing bored with the TV show when I felt Lena's hand stroking and rubbing my thigh. As my cock stirred to life, I looked at my beautiful girlfriend's face. She pouted her full lips at me, then smiled. "Master... I wanna play..." she whispered to me in her submissive, girly voice. As I grinned, Lena's hand fondled my balls through my sweats, bringing my cock to full hardness, bulging my pants.

"Go get your collar, pet," I told her, pulling her to me for a deep kiss. Lena sucked on my tongue, gasping against my mouth as my hand slipped under her skirt. My hand cupped her mound as my fingers had begun to tease her pussy lips through her panties, which were now soaked through with her juices.

Lena moaned as my hand moved on her pussy, only leaving the room to get the collar after I had pulled her up and given her pert, beautiful ass a swat with my hand. My pet squealed and darted from the room, bringing back not only the black leather collar, but a small leather paddle.

"Kneel, pet," I ordered her, smiling as she set down the items. Grinning, Lena shook back her red hair and kneeled between my legs, offering her neck for me to fasten the collar onto her. I buckled the soft leather collar on her neck and she looked up at me.

"Master, may I suck your cock?" she asked, biting her lip, bouncing in
excitement.

"Yes, you may, my naughty pet," I answered her, grinning, "Then you will get a spanking." Lena squealed, pulling on my sweats to get at my prick. She looked so hot with her collar on, I raised my hips to let her take my clothing.

My hard cock flopped against her face as it was freed from my underwear. I took off my shirt as Lena's long tongue licked slowly up my shaft. I groaned wordlessly as the feeling of her hot, wet mouth went down my cock. Lena's head bobbed slowly as she sucked, trying to please her Master.

I reached down, pulling her tank-top over her head, interrupting the awesome blowjob she was giving me. Her breasts flopped out of the top, perfectly shaped with medium-sized pink nipples that stuck out like pencil erasers. After the cloth was away from her, Lena attacked my cock again, making noisy slurping sounds as her mouth wet my now-throbbing prick. I could feel her tongue swirling around my cock head as Lena picked up the pace. She flung her hair around as her mouth sucked hard on me. I could feel my cum building in my balls, my hips lifting up in time with her head bobbing.

"Shit..." I groan as my cum shot out of my cock, coating the back of my pet's throat. Lena moaned, swallowing my load as fast as she could. She never spilled a drop, licking my cock to clean the cum off. My body jerked as she cleaned me, then I pulled her up to me, kissing her again, tasting myself on her tongue. "I love you, pet," I breathe.

Lena grinned at me, then pouted, "I thought I was going to be spanked, Master."

Her question turned to a moan as I took her nipple into my mouth, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive nub. She began to grind her soaked, panty-covered pussy on my leg as I first stimulated one nipple, then the other. I used my fingers to roll and pinch whichever nipple my mouth wasn't ravaging.

My fingers slid down her body, pulling her panties to the side as they dipped into her juicy, dripping pussy. Lena humped against my hand, her breathing hot against my ear, "Please spank your naughty slave, Master, please..." With that, I lifted my girlfriend from my lap, removing her skirt and panties quickly. Throwing her auburn hair and moaning, she practically flung herself over my knee, spreading her legs and waiting for her spanking. I could see her pussy juices dripping down her smooth, white inner thighs.

I got her settled over my knee, enjoying the feel of her naked body wiggling against my cock as I began to rub my hand over her ass cheeks and upper thighs. I kneaded her white flesh as she moaned, "Oh, Master... please... spank me, tease me..." Her plea turned into a sharp moan as the first swat from my hand connected with her ass.

The sound of the spanking echoed in our apartment's living room as my hand swatted Lena's white bottom. Soon, the skin turned a deep pink and she was moving her hips, her pussy overflowing with her excitement. After rubbing the warmed flesh of her ass, my hand slipped between her spread thighs, rubbing along her slit. "Oh, gods! Oh!" Lena moaned as my hand moved, dipping between her pussy lips and teasing her clit. I picked up the leather paddle Lena had left nearby and started the spanking anew.

Leather smacked against skin as Lena bucked on my knee, moaning and groaning at the delicious stingy burn she felt as the paddle struck her upturned ass cheeks. Lena's inner thighs were positively soaked now, her juices flowing freely from her pussy and down her legs. Again, I teased her with my hand, making her moan. My cock had come back to full hardness by this time, from Lena's moaning and rubbing against it as I spanked her pretty little ass.

Laying back on the couch, I brought Lena's legs up and over my head, bringing her pussy towards my face. The first lick from my tongue ran up her sopping wet slit from clit to asshole. She shuddered, pressing her pussy against my mouth and moaning "Fuck yes! Please eat me, Master! Eat your slave's pussy, suck my clit, please!"

My dick throbbed from excitement, bobbing in front of Lena's face. I took my face away from her cunt after sucking hard on her inner pussy lips, "Suck your Master's cock while I eat you, pet!" I ordered, going back to work on the shaved pussy in front of me. I growled into her pussy as I felt her mouth slide over my shaft again, her tongue swirling around as she sucked. Using my fingers to spread her lips, I tongue-fucked Lena, licking hard and wiggling around inside her pussy.

My cock left Lena's mouth with a plop as she threw back her head and gasped, riding my face as I continued to eat her. "Oh gods... oh... oh... OH GODS I'M CUMMING!!!" she screamed as I felt her pussy quiver in orgasm. I latched my mouth over her slit, sucking and licking as my pet rode my face hard until her body shivered and went limp.

Luckily, my Lena can orgasm more than once, so after a few moments, her mouth going back to work on my hard prick. I lifted her off my body and disentangled her from my dick, pulling her to me and kissing her passionately. As we made out, I lifted her into my lap, positioning the head of my cock at the entrance to her pussy. She moaned, trying to impale herself on my cock, but I teased her, rubbing my cock head against her slit. "Please, Master... fuck me, fuck me hard... I want your cock in my cunt, Master..." she begged, lust glazing her eyes as I'm sure mine were as well.

"Do you want your Master's cock, pet?" I asked, slipping the head of my dick inside her pussy.

"YES! Please! Master, fuck me!!"

With a growl, I pull Lena's pussy down hard on my hard, throbbing cock, going balls deep in one stroke. Lena howled, clawing at my back as I gripped her hips, pumping her hard on my shaft. I could feel her pussy walls clenching around my cock, making it feel like a slippery soft glove had enveloped my thrusting shaft. Our breathing quickened as we fucked like rabbits, hard and fast. The pace and excitement must have gotten to Lena, because her pussy clenched my cock hard as she climaxed again, "GODS!! OH! OH, I'M CUMMING AGAIN!"

Lena's spasming pussy proved too much and I thrust hard into her, my own climax overtaking me. I shot my load deep inside her cunt, which milked my cock as we slowed, both our bodies shuddering. We looked into each other's eyes, kissing again as my cock slowly deflated, slipping from her pussy.

Staring into my eyes with her green eyes, Lena said, "I love you, Nathan, my Master."

Disrobed

christelle.nospamplease@nospam.pornlivenews.com — Thu, 22 May 2008 08:51:11 +0000

I had just gotten out of the shower when the doorbell rang. Damn! I knew I should have started getting ready earlier. Now he was here, and I was naked and dripping!
I smiled at that thought. Put that way, it didn't sound so bad. Still, not quite the way I wanted to start the evening.

I mostly dried myself off, threw on a robe, and made it to the door just as he gave into impatience and rang the bell a second time. I raked my fingers through my hair a few times, a token substitute for my usual preening, and made sure my robe covered as much of me as possible.

Not that it's got that tough a job, mind you. I'm somewhat petite, with modest (OK, "slight") cleavage, but even so, the robe has a tendency to separate at the top. But it is flannel, and soft and warm and extremely cozy, and I don't ordinarily entertain guests in it. Wearing it, I mean. *Me* wearing it. At least not guests who haven't already seen everything underneath. He didn't fit this category.

I put on my hostess smile, and opened the door. "Hi," I said, the master of small talk. "Come on in."

"Thanks," he said, and did.

I waved in the general direction of what passes for my living room (when it's not busy being my guest room, dining room, or office -- this is a *small* apartment). "Make yourself comfortable. Sorry I'm not quite ready."

He made no move to sit down. In fact, he made no move at all. He stood there, not really staring at me, but more... studying. Not the leering kind of study you'd expect a man to make of a woman wearing only a robe. Oh, he probably gave me a quick once-over while I was waving around and making excuses, but, if so, it was over before I noticed. Now, he was scrutinizing my face, as if trying to memorize every detail. I studied *his* expression, looking for some clue about what he was thinking, but could find none. I felt myself starting to blush at this unexpected attention, and lifted an eyebrow, an unspoken question.

The gesture snapped him back to reality. Now he was blushing. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Actually, you look..." he trailed off, embarrassed.

"Yes?" I prompted. I was regaining my composure now, and no longer blushing. I was intrigued, and intensely curious what he was thinking. His sudden shyness, so unlike him, was a turn-on. Blushing made him look even cuter.

He hesitated, probably weighing how honest he should be. "Beautiful," he blurted out. Suddenly, he looked straight into my eye, his confidence returned. "Honestly, you look quite seductive." He held eye contact waiting for my reaction.

As his confidence returned, mine again faded. I felt another blush coming on, and looked down. I was embarrassed by the compliment, and unsure of how to respond. If I was turned-on by his shyness a moment ago, his confidence, and honest boldness, were at least ten times as exciting. I was keenly aware that my body was shielded from his view by only a thin layer of flannel. I was sure that if he dropped his gaze, he couldn't help notice my nipples hardening, but I knew he'd never stopped looking into my eyes, though they were no longer looking back at him. I also knew he didn't have to look, to know my nipples were hard, and that turned me on even more.

"Thank you," I managed to say. My voice was weak, almost a whisper.

"With no makeup, and your hair still wet and uncombed, almost wild, you are incredibly sexy." He paused, giving me a chance to reply, but I couldn't find my voice. "I'd like to kiss you. A long, passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that joins two souls, and makes time stand still."

A closet poet -- who would have guessed? That fanned the flame of my lust. I didn't want to stop. I raised my eyes to his, pleading. "And then?" I whispered, an urgency in my voice betraying my feelings.

"Then," he said, "I would slip my hands inside your robe, and reach around to your back. I would kiss you again, as I caressed your soft skin, working from your shoulder blades slowly down to your buttocks."

I dropped my gaze again, and stumbled towards the couch. The flames were getting hotter, and my breathing was getting heavy. I was getting light-headed, and needed to sit down.

I was dimly aware of him following me as he continued. "I would gently stroke your beautiful, firm, little ass."

Somehow, it seemed sexy, rather than crude, when he said it. I let myself drop onto the couch, leaning back with my eyes half-closed, enjoying the sensations he had awakened within me.

"Gradually, my touch would become firmer, a massage, a gentle kneading." His breathing, too, was more labored now, and his speech sped up.

I spread my legs slightly, not knowing or caring what was revealed. He knelt on the floor in front of me, still staring into my eyes.

"I would not linger there long, however. With so many of your treasures yet to explore, I would regretfully move on. My hands would slide up your sides, my thumbs slipping across your stomach and up your ribs. Finally, I would reach your breasts, and gently massage them, working slowly from the outer edges to your erect nipples. I would continue rubbing your nipples, while I was removed my lips from yours, and kissed my way to your breast. As I did with my hands, I would trace my lips from the edge of one breast, nuzzling my way to the nipple, while working its companion with my hand."

The fire had become an inferno, blazing out of control. I spread my legs a little wider, and gently rocked my hips back and forth and side to side. The motion provided some stimulus to my aching sex, as did the soft flannel against my rock-hard nipples, but it was not enough. Somehow, I resisted the overwhelming urge to touch myself, and the even more powerful urge to attack him.

His breathing was harder now, and faster. His voice dropped to a throaty whisper, as he went on with the fantasy. "Again," he said, "I would not linger, but soon would start kissing my way down your belly, until I reached your vulva. I would give it a quick kiss, then continue my advance, kissing and licking down one thigh, then back up. Another quick kiss on your outer lips, and then down and up the other thigh."

My "outer lips" were getting wetter by the second, and every time he mentioned giving them a "quick kiss" a shiver ran though by body. This was the most arousing foreplay I'd every experienced, and he hadn't even touched me!

"As I reached the top this time," he went on, "I would offer your sex the attention it so desperately deserves."

I tingled in anticipation of what was to come, knowing they were just words, but that I would feel them as intensely as if they had a physical presence.

"I would kiss and lick around your lips, gently tasting just inside. Slowly, my tongue would grow bolder probing its full length into your depths. My fingers and lips would come to its aid, rubbing, licking, sucking, nibbling you to a screaming, earth-shattering orgasm."

The most powerful shiver yet coursed through my body. Not quite an orgasm, but as close as you can get. Call it a "neargasm."

It took me a moment to recover. Even after the internal trembles settled down somewhat, the inferno remained. I opened my eyes. He was still kneeling, his eyes lock onto mine, waiting for me to speak.

"No," I said.

"No?" he asked, concerned, disappointed.

"No," I repeated. "Some other time. Right now, I can't wait. I need to go right from the kiss to the screaming orgasm."

He let out a relieved sigh. "Me, too," he said, standing.

As he rose, I captured him with my legs, pulling him on top of me. Our mouths crashed together for that time-stopping kiss, and we squirmed into a prone position on the couch, he atop me. My legs were still wrapped around him, and I used them to pull my crotch tight against his. I squirmed and wiggled, rubbing myself against the erection inside his pants. I didn't think it possible, but his kiss, his soft, warm lips and hot, gently probing tongue, made me even hotter.

I pushed him away, and tore at the buttons of his shirt. A few popped off, but neither of us cared. He struggled with his belt, and I unwrapped my legs to make it easier. He stood, and yanked off the rest of his clothes, while I shrugged off my robe (I like to be *naked* when I make love, at least in private). As soon as he was nude, I again captured him with my legs, and guided him into me. He resisted, trying to enter slowly, but I would have none of it. I prodded him with my heels, and he relented.

"Hard and fast," I said. "I need to come."

Apparently, he needed to come as badly as I did. He slammed into me as hard as he could, then quickly pulled out and slammed back in. In, out, in, out as fast as he could go. My orgasm started on the first stroke, and built quickly. By the third stroke I could no longer count, and had reached an orgasmic peak higher than any I had ever known. He kept pumping, and I soared even higher. I remained there forever (unlike kisses, orgasms really *can* make time stand still), until he shuddered with his own climax, and collapsed on top of me.

We lay still for several minutes, gently descending back to the world.

"OK, now," I said, when it was time to break the silence.

"Now?" he asked, confused.

"Now," I repeated. "All the stuff you said before, from the kiss to the screaming orgasm. Do it now. Only I don't scream when I come; I just sort of gurgle."

"So I noticed," he replied. "Well, then, I think I can make the change from `screaming' to `gurgling'..."

He kissed me again, and this time, time really *did* stand still. Maybe it was an after-effect of the orgasm.

He did make the change, by the way. From "screaming" to "gurgling," that is. Quite nicely, too. Though I almost *did* scream that time. And many times thereafter. It was a delightfully long night.

Shipwrecked Temptation

christelle.nospamplease@nospam.pornlivenews.com — Thu, 22 May 2008 08:49:59 +0000

We were two days out of Hawaii, sailing a nice twenty footer and really enjoying the warm tropical sunshine. Just the two of us, heading out to New Zealand with perfect weather. The boat was well stocked, and fitted with good navigation aids, including a satellite locator system. Sailing had now joined flying in sophistication of radar and sat-navigation electronics, taking one of the oldest forms of travel into the twenty-first century.

Lena took every opportunity to work on her tan, since her fair skin was prone to burning; we kept a chart of her exposure. Exposure was the right term too, as she sunbathed on the forward deck in the nude. San Francisco to Hawaii had taught her to cover up, first against the cold, and later to keep from turning lobster red. Now she had a respectable tan, after almost two weeks of sailing and tropical climes. Her dark blonde hair was turning lighter, and her skin darker. Each day, she became lovelier, and I never missed the chance to tell her. She urged me to go "native" and for a while I did. We agreed that we'd wait until evening when the sea anchor was dropped and we wouldn't drift so far off course.

Late afternoon showed dark clouds across the entire horizon. I had Lena take the wheel, while I checked the weather-satellite readouts. The little machine hummed as it spat out the paper, and what I saw didn't look very good. A large storm was moving across the Pacific, and the reports indicated that the winds were running about 50 knots. I began plotting a course to take us away and south of the storm, adding perhaps a day to our voyage. Once course corrections were made, we watched the clouds and we both were confident we'd miss the storm. It turned out that we didn't go quite south enough, and towards dusk, the sea began to swell and rock our tiny boat. Lena brought up clothes and rain gear, and we both worked at keeping our boat upright. She manned the wheel, while I kept the rigging from fouling in the harsh weather.

The rain and wind were warm at first, but the fading sun soon brought a chill to our soaked bodies. We worked on into the night, trying to steer the little craft into the waves to keep from capsizing. We both wore our life jackets, just in case, and I made sure that the beacons worked on them. Some sailboats have small diesel engines to help in a storm like this, but we did not. We were completely dependent on the wind, and now we had far too much of it. Rain slashed and stung, both of us wearing glasses had a hard time seeing. Not that there was much to see in the darkness, but it still made our work difficult.
About eight pm, I struck the sails, as the wind was now howling about us, threatening to topple our boat. I had Lena activate the distress beacon on the bow, sending an automatic s.o.s. to a satellite far overhead, then radio our situation and to see if there was a larger vessel nearby. The radio just crackled in silent response, depressing us both. I hoped that I was wrong about a nagging suspicion that this storm was turning into a hurricane. Each time I tried to set a southerly course, the wind or waves tilted the boat over far enough for water to flow over the decks. "Keep tacking" I thought, trying to set a zigzag course, hoping that I could "zig" southward enough. Lena's hand gripped my arm tight, telling me that she was worried too. In the midst of the commotion, her arms circled my waist and hugged me, easing the tension from me. I looked at her and smiled, and she smiled back.

Somewhere around midnight, things started to go wrong in a hurry. First a wave crashed onto the fore deck, snapping the main mast like a toothpick. I grabbed Lena and pulled her down, just as the mast crashed against the deck. Another wave washed it off the bow, taking a large piece of the railing with it. Leaping forward, I cut the rigging lines that were fouled and holding the potential battering ram close to the boat. I made the mistake of being in the way as one rope caught my calf and yanked me off my feet. I groped for a handhold, and found a rope, but it was speeding out to sea, with the mast.
The friction burned my hand and through the sleeve of my jacket. The ocean seemed determined to claim me and another wave slammed over the deck, nearly washing me overboard. I heard a scream as I locked my arms around what was left of the railing. Lena turned the rudder hard over, and I rolled back onto the deck, coughing seawater. Lena yelled for me to get back quickly, and I felt like I was moving through molasses. She said I almost sprinted over the deck.

She saw my arm as I took the wheel, trying to keep us upright. The salt water burned and I hissed, but Lena insisted that she wrap it quickly.

She came up with the first aid kit and wrapped my arm as best she could in the pitching seas. I was proud of her courage, and she gave me strength. That is until I saw her face was drained of color, her lips pressed tightly together. I asked her what it was. "Water is coming in from the deck." She said. "There's about two inches of water on the floor." Again, she didn't say we were sinking, but we both felt it. I looked below, and saw that her estimate was correct. I gave her the wheel and went below, finding that the water was leaking from several long, large cracks in the main deck. The snapping of the mast had taken a toll on the little craft, and now the waves were trying to finish her. The boat pitched violently, tossing me against the wall. I clambered out and found Lena struggling hard to turn the wheel against the waves. I pushed with her, trying to nose our boat into the next wave, praying that we'd be able to ride out the storm. I looked up through the darkness and saw a vague outline. "GET DOWN!" I yelled, and I grabbed Lena and pulled her to the deck underneath me. Something slammed the side of the boat, ripping away the top of the cabin, the wheel and most of the communications gear. Wood split and cracked and I felt something large and heavy roll across my back. A wave hit hard and we slid towards the edge. I grabbed Lena's life vest and the railing and hooked my feet into what was left of the cabin. We stopped.

I pulled her to me and we crawled up, seeing that our boat was now very crippled, her cabin partially smashed and water beginning to flood her below. I grabbed a duffle bag that had survival equipment, and pulled a small raft from under the afterdeck's compartment. "Time to leave!" I shouted over the wind. Lena's face told me that she knew it too, but didn't want to go. I didn't either, but it was time.

A wave rocked the boat, and a roar filled our ears. The world suddenly seemed to be yanked from under us, Lena falling against me and both of us falling into the flooded cabin. I held on to her as the boat rocked again, tilting at an impossible angle. Wood complained about stresses, and I was sure that it was all over. The darkness of the cabin felt like a coffin, and I tried to stand. I realized Lena was limp in my arms and new, real, fear clawed at my insides. Struggling against the angle I tried to reach the deck, holding Lena in one arm. I felt the steps and pulled hard, trying to get us both out of the sinking boat. The boat pitched the other way then, and I felt us both flung into the air. My arm complained about the weight it was pulling and I gripped Lena with every ounce I had left. I held my breath, hoping that we wouldn't go too deep and I could surface us before Lena drowned or I did.

We hit sand.

The jarring impact stunned me, and I thought we'd landed back on the boat, for a moment. The gritty sand in my mouth and face took several seconds to recognize as land. Water rushed up to our waists, and I pulled Lena up onto the beach. I fumbled for the flashlight in my pocket, my hand found her neck and felt for a pulse. It was there, strong and steady. The light played across her soaked hair and face, showing a small gash near the hair- line. Not big enough for stitches, but the idea of a concussion didn't make me feel any better either. I checked her for broken bones and other injuries and was relieved to find none. I scooped her up in my arms and carried her up onto the beach, laying her well away from the water.

Wind whipped sand into my eyes and I peeled off my rain jacket, tucking it around her to keep her warm. Against the wind and rain, I could see ship's shape in the gloom, at the shore lying almost on her port side. I found one of those chemical light-sticks in my life jacket pouch, and I tied it to Lena's hand so that I could find her in the dark if I became disoriented. The green glow made the whole thing seem like and eerie dream. I staggered to the boat, wanting to salvage what I could before exhaustion set in or before the tide hauled her under.

All things considered, I did pretty well. I was able to get plenty of the food items from the boat, along with charts, maps, and a sextant. The radios were smashed completely. I even found our survival duffle bag on the beach where it had washed ashore. The rocks along the shore trashed the beacon unit, but many things were still useful. I'm not sure where the energy came from, but I kept slogging along until the job was done. My watch said it was 03:00 a.m. Hawaii time.

I piled all our equipment and supplies high up on the beach, and checked Lena again. She hadn't moved, still lying in the same position I'd left her. Her pulse and breathing were still strong, and since the wind was letting up, I decided that I'd set up a lean-to shelter for now. Rain still fell after the winds died away, and they were the warming rains one is used to in the tropics. The spare sailcloth made an excellent makeshift tent, and I used some branches to support it over Lena. Wearily, I crept in the shelter next to her and lay down, putting my arm around her protectively. Chaos reigned in my mind, trying to deal with the storm, Lena's injury, a shipwreck, and being lost in the vast Pacific. I feel into an exhausted sleep shortly, hoping that this would all workout.

I awoke feeling hot and wet. The wet I thought was from the rain, but as I moved, I realized that it was a steamy hot day and sweat was soaking me, wrapped as still was in the rain gear. I reached over and found that Lena wasn't under lean-to with me and panic filled me for a moment. I crawled out and blinked in the bright light, looking around for her. Shaking my sleep fogged brain, I looked again, and my heart sank when I didn't see her on the beach. I turned towards the ocean and saw the Mary Jo, her cabin a splintered shambles, lying on her side well up on the beach. Something moved near the cabin and I saw Lena's blonde hair as she climbed down to the beach. My legs carried me over towards the boat, complaining about the exertion. She hadn't seen me yet, and as I hit the wet sand she turned around, looking at me in surprise. She ran over to me and stopped, looking at me as if I had just reappeared from thin air.

"Oh God! C'mon babe, let's get you back in the shade and lay down." She said, both chastising me and sounding worried. She moved to my side and slipped under my arm as if I couldn't support myself. I pulled her to me, my arms wrapping around her, holding her tight. She seemed to be afraid of hugging back, as if I'd break. Then she held me tight, melting into my arms and kissing me hard and passionately. After a few seconds, I felt weak and my knees started to buckle. She kept me on my feet and helped me back to our small shelter. I sat in front of the lean-to, dizzy and feeling weak.

Lena opened some canned fruit, and proceeded to feed me by hand. Her eyes betrayed the concern she felt for me, but I was too tired to ask her why. After I had my fill of sliced peaches, she insisted I at least drink some of the syrup for liquid (that a girl...drown me with kindness). She finished off the peaches and told me to lie down and rest.

"Wait a minute." I said. "I thought I'd be taking care of you. I'm still worried you might have a concussion." She smiled and kissed me on the cheek, her hand on my chest making me lay back down, partially in the lean-to. "Sweetheart," She began, looking into my eyes. "You've been out cold for a day and a night. And your back looks terrible. I thought you were really hurt bad, internally. I was scared to death I'd lose you."

My back did feel very sore and tender, but I'd thought it to be from the exertions the night before, two nights I corrected myself. I sat up, feeling the stiffness in my joints and back. I looked at the cut on her forehead, and it seemed tiny in comparison to what I thought I'd seen in flashlight. "How, are YOU though?" I asked. "Any dizziness or headache?" I kept quiz- zing her on her condition, feeling elated when she said that two aspirin had taken care of a slight headache the morning after the storm. Then I chastised her for taking the risk of climbing on the wreck of the Mary Jo. She laughed, but I was serious. She put her hand on my chest and told me that she had slipped in after the tide went out. No risk. Lena fumbled in the duffle she'd carried out of the boat, and found a pair of metal mirrors.

One she gave to me and the other she held behind me so I could see my back after she pulled my shirt off. Someone had painted a long diagonal purple, black, and blue strip about a foot wide on my back, and in several places I had minor abrasions. It looked a lot worse than it felt. "Now do you see why I was worried about you, Mr. Tough Guy?" She said in a sarcastic tone. I asked what happened the next morning, since I'd rudely slept straight through it.

Lena had awakened in the lean-to sometime after dawn, feeling warm. She sat up, and her head pounded its objection. She saw me, face down on part of the sailcloth and tried to rouse me. When that failed, she checked my pulse and breathing as I had done for her. She checked me for broken bones and when she lifted my shirt, she thought I was seriously injured. She made her own assessment of our situation and checked over our supplies. All the long talks about survival came back and she set up driftwood for a signal fire, and drew S.O.S. in huge letters in the sand. She'd explored a bit of the nearby jungle like forest, then sat close to me during the warm night until she fell asleep. This morning, she had decided to move us up nearer the forest, and that some minor items needed to be salvaged, including the two metal mirrors. She knew they could be used for signaling planes and boats. She was just coming out of the boat when I woke up.

A Game of Dress-Up

christelle.nospamplease@nospam.pornlivenews.com — Thu, 22 May 2008 08:48:46 +0000

It was Monday night and Vanessa was dressing up. It was, in fact, a holiday and she'd been home from school all day, free to laze about. The house was empty, her mom and brother were at the movies, and she was all alone, free to take her time. She stood in her bedroom in front of the full length mirror, watching herself and posing as she slowly and deliberately got dressed in her very sluttiest clothes, a kind of reverse striptease, for her eyes only.

She stepped into the tiny black thong panties—sheer Lurex, shot with metallic silver threads—pulled them up over her knees and smoothed them out. She hooked her thumbs into the waist band and drew them slowly up her long, smooth thighs, purposely avoiding her reflection in the mirror until they were all the way up, then she let the panties snap gently into place over her naked sex and raised her eyes to see herself in the mirror. She smiled.

She turned around and looked back at herself over her shoulder so she could see the black thong running like an exclamation point between the proud hemispheres of her ass, and then turned back, admiring the way the scrap of shiny Lurex barely concealed the trimmed patch of pubic hair, giving the panties a suggestive, sexy bulge. Moving closer to the mirror, she cocked her hips forward so she could just see her shadowy folds through the sheer fabric. She looked terribly sexy to herself, and she ran her fingertip over her crease, enjoying the sight of her red fingernail against the black panties as much as she did the shivery sensation of touching herself.

She was such a whore.

She wasn't going anywhere and she didn't have a date. Her mother and brother had gone out to see a movie, and Vanessa was happy to be alone with herself for a change. She studied hard during the week and when she wasn't studying she was working keeping Mr. Taylor’s books, so these few hours alone were precious: a time for a long, leisurely game of dress-up, followed by a prolonged, fantasy-fueled masturbation. It was something she rarely had time to indulge in anymore. She had no social life anymore, no time for boys. She had sacrificed everything for the sake of her scholarship, so this make-believe sex was the only kind she had time for.

It wasn't bad. It wasn't the real thing, but then it didn't have the complications of real relationships either, and this way she was free to indulge all her fantasies and desires without worrying what anyone thought. She was a perfect date.

She'd already showered and put on her makeup, more extreme than she would ever have worn in public. Her eye shadow and black eyeliner enhanced her clear brown eyes, and her lipstick was so shiny it was almost obscene, as if a lover's semen still glistened on her lips. Her earrings were outrageous: long, shimmery strands of rhinestone that flashed with the least movement of her head and gleamed wickedly against her dark auburn hair. She'd perfumed herself too, and even rouged her nipples to make them stand out. She felt deliciously wicked and wanton, a true whore, and it excited her terrifically. This was her favorite game.

She turned her back to the mirror and slipped on a black mesh and pleather corset, zipping it on backwards and then spinning it around so the zipper was where it belonged. She carefully lifted her breasts into the open demi-cups, then took a deep breath. She pulled the front laces hard, cinching her waist in so that the corset hugged her tight—tight as a lover's embrace, accentuating the curve of her hips and forcing her breasts up and out; so tight that even her rouged nipples looked redder, as if the blood from her body were being forced into her tits.

Now she allowed herself a peek in the mirror. The tightness of the corset even seemed to make her labia look engorged. They bulged behind the little black thong, and Vanessa didn't have to touch them to know she was already wet.

She was gett8ing very excited now, so she sat on the bed and put on her fishnet hose, drawing them slowly up over her legs, watching herself in the mirror as she extended her foot, pointed her toe and teased the stocking up her thigh. She pulled the stay-up elastic high on the her legs and smoothed it into place. She loved the way it gripped her.

The rule of the game was that she wasn't allowed to touch herself until she was completely dressed and had a fantasy scenario clear in her mind, but a little tease didn't really count, and she took a moment to lie on her side and spread her knees, admiring the contrast of the stockings against the pale flesh of her thighs. She ran her nails down the corset, over the smooth skin of her belly, and finally along the moist fabric of her thong, imagining a lover's tongue following the same path.

The panties she had worn for only minutes were already soaked. Although she would never let anyone else see her without her modesty fully intact, in her dreams she liked to wear the most provocative and blatantly sexual clothes she could find. In her fantasies she was irresistibly sexy; men admired her with or without her consent; she drove them wild, and yet she was always totally innocent. She couldn't imagine why men threw themselves at her feet.

The final bit of dressing always had to be done without peeking in the mirror, so as to get the final effect all at once. She put on her wickedly high heels, sexy strappy things that made her legs look even longer than they were, and then the dress.

The dress was the final touch, a buttery soft black vinyl number that snapped all the way up the front. She had bought it a size too small and had grown since then, so that it now fit her like a second skin, pushing her breasts in and compressing them into an erupting cleavage and showing every stitch of the lingerie underneath. The dress hugged her so tightly that even the cleavage in her ass showed clearly. It encased her in wicked, shiny black.

She finished snapping it up, took a moment to compose herself and shake her hair free, closed her eyes and turned around to face the mirror. Then she opened her eyes.

Oh yes. Perfect! What a whore; what a delicious slut she was! She looked like she was about to burst from the dress; her nipples were hard and clearly visible through the vinyl. The corset accentuated the generous thrust of her hips and made her look even more leggy, and she posed for herself, cocking her hip provocatively, raising an eyebrow, blowing a kiss with her red lips. God she looked cheap. Cheap and hot. Who wouldn't want to fuck her?

She could just picture herself walking into some bar or nightclub: all the men’s and even the women’s heads turning to look at her. She could imagine the men’s cocks getting hard in their pants as she walked in: all that male meat standing at attention, all those balls filling with come eager to be launched in her direction.

The next step in the usual game was to pose and admire herself until some very erotic scenario came to mind, then act it out is as best she could, touching herself, using her toys, and then end it with a savage and glorious full-throttle masturbation. But she felt so wonderfully sexy now she didn't want to rush through it. She liked the way her ass swayed as she walked in front of the mirror in the heels. She loved the way the dress held her. She cocked her head and watched the earring sparkle as they kissed her neck. She was excited when she felt how wet she was.

In her mind, the scenario was fairly simple this time: this was her place and she had a man over; just some friend, some good-looking man she worked with. He'd never seen her like this and would be unable to keep his hands off her. He'd seduce her and be amazed at the way the studious college girl had been transformed into a voracious slut, and she'd protest that she always dressed like this at home.

She had a sudden urge to have a drink. She didn't really like to drink, but she wanted the drink as a prop: sophisticated, dissolute. Maybe she'd have a cigarette too. She didn't smoke, but she had an old pack of Parliaments she'd bought months ago. She dug them out now from among her collection of clothes and put one between her lips. Perfect. She felt like a total whore.

She walked down the stairs to the kitchen, swaying slightly on the absurdly high heels, and after digging around in some cabinets, found an old bottle of whiskey. She put some ice cubes into a glass and poured the whiskey in. She found a book of matches in her mom's junk drawer and lit her cigarette. She took a deep drag into her mouth and blew it out, then lounged against the sink and sipped the drink.

It was awful. Just terrible, but she forced herself to take a little more. She liked the way it made her mouth feel, the way it stung her throat with just a hint of suppressed evil. Yes, this was what a real whore would feel.

She took another drag and turned to see her reflection in the dark window glass. Her very red lips parted sensuously as she let the smoke trail from her nostrils, then she puckered her lips and blew, just the way she'd blow smoke in some stud's face as a way of telling him to get lost. The gesture was so wicked she felt her nipples harden and she thrust her shoulders back to make her breasts stand out even more. Sh3e felt positively lethal.

She raised the cigarette to her lips and inhaled this time, concentrating on not coughing, then turned around and blew a stream of smoke at the light fixture. The nicotine rush made her slightly dizzy, and she leaned her ass against the sink and took another drink.

She was startled by a quick, casual knock on the front door, and before she could even think to react, the door opened and Rob Taylor—Vanessa’s boss and mother’s friend—walked into the room carrying the weekend’s accounts as he did every Monday.