Stories

On Another Note
…continued

My head was already spinning when he knelt before me and took my nipples into his mouth, one at a time.  He fed on me like a starving child.  I could hold myself in no longer.  I grabbed his hair, leaned my own head back and let out a long over-due moan.  The moan must have fueled his passion because he was now pulling my pants off, kissing my belly, and had me high-stepping to get out of my panties quickly.

He stood and guided me to the coats, where he laid me down.  He stripped the remainder of his clothes off.  He stood gazing at me.  I at him.  He was a feast for my eyes.  There were no 6-pack abs, but he was tones.  His thighs and ass were muscular and strong from his daily running routine.  His cock was ample, proud and glistening.  I could already feel my own wetness, pooling inside my thighs.  These coats were going to need to be cleaned, I thought.

He lay beside me.  He took me in his arms and asked, Do you know how long I’ve wanted to just reach out and grab you?”

I blushed and whispered, “Not a day longer than me.”

The sex was intense.  There were no inhibitions.  There were no parts of our bodies untouched.  When we finished, we were both blissfully spent…until I remembered my mother.

Damn!  How long had we been in the back room?  It was certainly longer than I would normally be there for a lesson.  I jumped up, explaining about Mother.  I ran to the bathroom to clean up as quickly as I could.  I washed what little make-up off that was still on.  I brushed my hair.  I jumped into my clothes.  He was already dressed.  I grabbed my horn case and I already had my purse on my arm.  He walked up to me and kissed me lovingly.  He walked me to the door and asked, “See you next week?”  I nodded yes as I opened the door to leave.

Mother was sitting there in the car looking annoyed.  This normally mad ve very nervous with her, but I was still high from my romp.  I didn’t care too much what she thought, but I didn’t want to be forbidden to see him again.  She asked why she didn’t hear me playin my horn.  I told her we had finished early and were talking.  I said that we had just lost track of time.  I don’t know if she noticed the little bite marks on my lower lip, the pinkish rash from his beard on my neck and chest, or the subtle smell of sex on me.  She never said if she did.

Posted onApril 20, 2018Categorieswritten eroticaLeave a commenton On Another Note Edit”On Another Note”
On Another Note
I played the French Horn in high school.  The horn suited me, with it’s mellow, haunting sound.  It duplicated the chronic sadness and isolation I often felt as a teenager.  I found solace in it, and I excelled in it.

It became obvious very soon that I could easily go to college on music scholarship if applied myself.  Every year I was chosen to represent our region in an awards band.  I went to band camp every summer and was selected for the top bands there.

My senior year was the year I had to shine because not only would I be trying out for the regional and state bands again, I would be competing on the University level for scholarships.  My high school band director was a trombone player.  I needed a French horn player and a good one to give me an edge up.

My idea was that the principle horn player for out states only professional symphony at the time would be the best to learn from.  He had played in a New York City symphony, the Atlanta and the Chicago symphony.  I had to have him.  I contacted him, I auditioned for him, and he accepted me as a student.

The most unusual thing about the lessons was that he owned a pawn shop.  I would take my lessons there.  At first he kept the shop open and we would be interrupted by customers.  Later, as I progressed, he closed the shop because the intensity was compromised, if interrupted.

I was smitten with him the first time I met him.  He was the most handsome man I had ever seen.  He had black wavy hair, a salt and pepper beard, beautiful lips, and eye that were such a darn green that they were almost black.  He was a little stocky, but all muscle.  He ran five miles everyday to keep his lung capacity up.  He was also twenty-eight years older than me – an edge that I craved.  I was in major “crush” mode.

The chemistry worked for us.  I worked very hard each day so I could impress him the next week at my lesson.  He recognized the “crush” and even teased me with it by letting me see him glancing at my breasts while I was playing.  Sometimes he would touch my mouth and lips tenderly, perching them into the embouchure he wanted.  He even walked behind me once (I always sat on a tall bar stool) and wrapped him arm partially around my waist with his hand on my diaphragm, just under my breasts, to tell me to sit up straighter so my diaphragm could expand more.  I did, but I was dizzy with lust.

I studied diligently under him the whole school year.  I went from being a good high school horn player, to a horn player with a tone that people stopped to listen to.  Needles to say, I scooped up the best scholarship to the University I wanted to go to.  This part was wrapped up 2 months before the school year ended.

I continued my lessons with as much devotion, but now I was getting more and more subtle attention.  He would look at me from across the room with the most enduring gaze when I played.  His hand might brush across my outer thigh, or his hand might linger too long on my diaphragm when my posture was lacking.  I returned the favors with an unexpected turn and brush of my breasts, nipples fully erect, across his arm.  I would lean just enough forward so he could glance down my cleavage.  I even let my leg rub down his crotch as I slid off the bar stool once.  I pretended not to notice.By the time I graduated high school, the electricity between us was unbearable.  I remember one particular lesson well.

I lived an hour away and my mother drove me that day so she could get some shopping in.  She drove off as I walked in and locked the door behind me.  This was routine.  He turned the sign off and closed the blinds.  If a customer saw us, they would just stand and knock on the door.

I walked to my bar stool, sat my horn case on the floor, and I could already feel him close.  I turned around and he was just inches from me.  My whole body flamed.  I almost couldn’t breathe.  I was embarrassed at the complete, uncontrollable arousal and bent my head down slightly.  He said, “I think you’ve had something on your mind for a long while.”  He eased my chin up with his fingers.  “Would you like to tell me about it?”  I looked directly in his eyes and his hand brought my lips to his.  Fireworks!

Suddenly there was a mad scramble of questions:  “Are you still a virgin?  Are you on birth control?  Does anyone suspect us?”  All the while he was kissing my neck, my mouth, pushing me to the back room as he threw coats from a rack onto the floor.  Then, just as suddenly as the chaos began, he stopped.

He stepped back, looked at me, smiled, then he came back to me, to life my shirt over my head.  I took off his.  He had a beautiful dark, downy chest.  I put my hand there.  It was so soft.  He smelled of fresh soap.  He gently unfastened my bra.  My full tits gave a slight bounce when he pulled the cups away.  I heard a low, “Yes” come from his mouth.  I don’t even think he knew that he said it out loud.  He kissed me slowly and passionately, touching my breasts as if he was kneading delicate dough, until he found my hard nipples.

…to be continued

Posted onApril 19, 2018CategoriesUncategorizedLeave a commenton On Another Note Edit”On Another Note”

 
Ladies Room
A week of masturbation in unusual places was what Jack has commanded of me.  I was told to take pictures to document my depravity.  That morning I had errands to run.  I found myself downtown in a place I’d never been to before.  It was an older city government building with tall, tiled ceilings and cold granite floors that echoed the click-clack of my heels.  I had to immediately stand straight and balance myself by taking smaller steps to ensure I did not slip on the high polished floors.

I became very aware of myself now.  I slowed down.  My small steps were deliberate and soon I was taking larger strides as I acclimated to the new surface.  I help my shoulders back and my girls were front and center.  Proud.  My head was help high, ready to make eye contact with whoever caught my attention.  My hips swaggered with the smoothness of warm caramel being poured over two big dollops of ice cream.  If someone was going to hear me at least ten steps before I entered a room, I’d make damn sure they remembered me when I got there.

Activities must have been slow that morning because I’d completed my business quickly.  There was on one of interest to catch my eye.  I was disappointed.  I liked to flirt – to dangle the carrot, so-to-speak.  However, I’d always pulled back before a real bite was taken.  I’m sure the thought of my new daily task was responsible for me feeling more sassy than usual.  I was horny now.  I closed my eyes for a moment to savor the sweet squeeze of my cunt.  When I looked ahead again, I saw the door to the ladies room.  It was time.

There were only two stalls.  I took the second one.  Once locked in, I backed to the toilet, dropping my panties under my knees and raised my skirt around my waist.  I sat down, thighs apart.

My thoughts began to meander around in my garden of sexual fantasies…slick, wet cunts; rosy, spanked asses; licking tongues; clamped nipples…my hand found my own nipple and I lifted it out of the top of my dress.  I positioned my cell phone with my other hand and took a selfie for my Sir, as I pulled the nipple firmly.

Someone opened the door to the bathroom.  She came into the stall next to me.  I felt a small jolt of panic and excitement as I could her  disrobe enough to sit down.  I felt very naughty and exposed even though she had no idea of what I was doing next to her.  I took my hand from my breast and placed it under my pussy lips where I began to pee; feeling the rush of warm liquid drench my fingers.  I opened my labia so I could manipulate the little stream.  When the pee was gone, I touched my clit, almost moaning out loud.  The sound of the woman washing her hands at the sink reminded me that I was not alone…not until I heard the bathroom door close.

I positioned my camera phone back in my hand, now fingering my cunt with the other.  When the photo was taken, I put the phone aside.  There was work to be done in my fantasy.

…he slapped my face as he pulled his cock out of my mouth.  He pushed me on all fours.  He fucked me harsh from behind, pulling my hair; reaching forward more to choke.  He spit on my ass as he pushed in two fingers.  A few moments later he replaced his fingers with his cock.  No mercy was shown as he fucked me harder and harder.

That was it, my trigger!  I exploded into spasms as I tried to make sure my moans were not heard.  I had to hold my breath, until I gasped for air after the last spasm of orgasm.  I sat there quietly, composing myself.   Then I remembered the addition task I’d been given.  I pushed all of my fingers of my right hand into my sticky, wet, cunt, and pulled them back out, placing them all into my mouth, licking them clean.  It was the taste of a slightly salted melon.  I thought of my handsome Dom and the wonderful tasks he had given me.

I adjusted my clothing and washed my hands before leaving, looking in the mirror.  Yes, that was an amazing glow that I had.  So, as I exited the lady’s room, I stepped slowly and deliberately, heels click-clacking on the floor.  My shoulders were pulled back and my head was held high.  Maybe no one else would remember me being here, but I sure would.  Thank you, Sir.

Posted onApril 18, 2018CategoriesUncategorizedLeave a commenton Ladies Room Edit”Ladies Room”

 
Awakened Slumber

I woke up to a slight pain coming from my right nipple.  Jack was laying behind me, pulling the nipple forward, stretching and twisting it.  My body responded, squeezing my thighs together and pushing back against him.  I immediately felt his cock stiffen as it protruded into the crack of my ass.  I was still moist there from our last session…and a little sore.

He slide into my tender pussy, pushing all the way in.  My cum is still there, slick, lubricating his cock.  His hand left my tit and saddled my hip, pushing me gently forward, before slamming me back against his hard rod.  A loud moan escaped me.  A few more assertive thrusts and he pulled out of me.

I felt my juices ooze from my aching cunt, down, outside the labia lips and onto my ass.  Jack had notice this too.  He reached inside of me with two fingers and pulled out a generous serving of my honey and slathered the entrance to my ass with it.

He had used my ass endlessly for several days straight.  I know it’s going to hurt.  I tensed as he pushed the head of his cock against the opening.

“You might as well relax, my cum slut.  It’s going to happen, regardless.”

I felt the pop and the pain as he entered me.   It was hot, searing pain.  My cunt re-lubricated itself.  Why do I love this so much?!!!  He waited a moment for me, then it was on.

Jack filled me to the hilt.  He pulled my leg up and back over his hip to get in even deeper, as he pumped me with fury.  He pulled my head back by my hair.  I gazed into his eyes.  His dominant stare set me on fire!

“Cum for me, Bitch!  Pet that clit that belongs to me and then Cum.”

Mentally I was already there, touching myself was all that I needed.  My hard clit was lubricated and ready.  A few firm, circular rubs and the deep contractions of my pussy began.  I pushed Jack even deeper into me and he answered by fucking my ass harder.  Our groans of pleasure encircled our bodies as we both came.

Slowly he pulled out of me.  He snuggled me close, pulled my face back to his and kissed me gently.  We fell back asleep, resting for our next session.

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