Thought Riot

“What a beautiful day!” Sandra says excitedly.
“Sure is.” Her friend, Betty replies. “I can’t wait to get set up on the beach & enjoy it.”
“I wonder where everyone is.” Sandra says, sounding a little confused.
Sandra & Betty are best friends. They have been since high school. They won a free trip to the Carribean. They’ve set up on a remote beach farther south. There are very few visitors to this beach. Perfect for Sandra & Betty.
“I’m gonna go change, Sandra.”
“Okay. See you in a bit.”
By the time Betty returns, all of the other visitors have already left. Betty returns in a light blue string bikini.
“Okay. I’ll go change now. You can watch our stuff.” Sandra tells her.
“Okay.”
Sandra runs up to the changing tent. She puts on a string bikini as well, only hers is extra small & her nipples show right through.
“Ready for a swim, Sandra?”
“Sure thing Betty.”
They go out & splash around in the water for about half an hour.
“Ahh! I’m gonna get you!” Betty yells out as Sandra splashes her with seawater.
Betty chases Sandra up the beach & by their umbrelas.
“I’m gonna tan, Betty.”
“Okay.” This is one of Betty’s favorite parts of their days. When Sandra tans, she removes her top & lays on her belly on a towel. Though Sandra may not realize it yet, Betty can’t help but to look her friend up & down. After all, Sandra is a CC cup.
“I think I’ll grab a soda.” Betty says, trying not to sound too embarrased as she looks at her friend’s chest.
“Alright.”
When Betty returns, she sees Sandra in the ocean. Splashing off in the cool water, topless.
“Sandra!” She yells. “What if someone sees you! This isn’t a nude beach ya know!”
“There’s no one here for miles.” She replies. “Besides, I thought you liked me topless.”
Betty instantly turned beet red. She was so embarrased. Sandra knew Betty’s feelings. But Betty would soon find out, those feelings were mutual.
“Lets head back over to our spot. I’m starving.” Sandra suggests.
They have lunch, but Sandra’s still hungry.
“Say Betty,” She asks. “Wanna run around the beach topless with me?”
Betty is suprised by this question. But reluctantly she agrees. She knows she’s love to see Sandra’s breast bouncing up & down as they run around the beach.
They run around for about 10 minutes until they’re both too tires to keep going. Sandra falls on top of Betty.
“Some fun, huh?” Sandra chuckles.
“Ya, some fun.” Betty replies.
Sandra looks into Betty’s eyes as they lie there. She softly kisses her cheek.
“What are you doing?” Betty asks.
“Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
Sandra sees the want in Betty’s eyes & kisses her again, more passionately. Eventually, Sandra’s tongue finds its way into Betty’s mounth. Betty grunts with pleasure. They’re wrapped around each other, kissing passionately, rolling around in the sand. Sandra soon heads downward, suckling Betty’s nipples. Betty is moaning time & again.
“If you like that, wait until I get lower.” Sandra says with desire in her eyes.
Sandra moves down Betty’s abdomen, licking & kissing every inch. She reaches the other half of Betty’s bikini & unties it. She slowly licks Betty’s lips, making sure to cover every inch. She goes up & down, side to side, enjoying & savoring every taste. Then, she goes in for the kill. She slides her tongue, slowly & deeply into her best friend. Slow at first, then faster & harder. Betty can’t help but moan out in ecstacy, loud as her voice will carry. Her legs buckle, her eyes roll back, she cries out again.
“Ohhh, Sandra! Ohhh, I can’t breathe! Deeper Sandra! Harder! Ohhh, go baby, go!” She cries.
Sandra enjoys all her friend is offering. She laps up all she can.
“Ohhh, my God! Ohhh!” Betty cries again.
Sandra goes in, deeper & deeper, harder & harder, faster & faster, until Betty explodes. Her cries in ecstacy could’ve been heard for miles, Had there been anyone around.
“Ohhh God, Sandra! Ohhh! That was sooo good! Ohhh!” Betty is so out of breath, so pleasured, so satisfied, she can’t move. Her legs are limp & the rest of her pulsates as she cums.
“My turn.” Sandra says with grin.
Sandra straddles Betty’s face. Betty begins to slide her tongue deep inside Sandra. Deeper & deeper she goes. She can smell Sandra’s desire, & she’s more than happy to fullfill it! Though she knows she won’t be anywhere as near as good as Sandra, she feels she’s doing just fine.
“Mmmm, Betty! That feels great.” Sandra tells her.
Eventually, as Betty goes in deeper & harder, Sandra cannot support herself any longer & she falls forward. They are now in a 69 position. Sandra can’t help but eat out Betty one last time. Faster & faster. Harder & harder. Deeper & deeper. They are both exhausted. Their cries pierce the ocean.
“Ohhh God, Sandra! Deeper!” I want you inside me! Faster, Sandra! Ohhh God!”
“Betty! Ohhh Jesus! I can’t breath! I want you in deeper baby! Ohhh!”
They both cum at the exact same time. They’re spent. They are both so exhausted, they can barely breath. Once they gather their strength, they head back to their spot, get dressed, & carry everything back to the hotel.
“Same time tomorrow, Sandra?” Betty asks excitedly.
“You read my mind.” Sandra replies. “You read my mind.”

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been an ass man. Not that I fail to appreciate the beauty of a slender leg or plump breast and taut nipple. Far from it. But ever since I was a teenager, stroking my cock to the glossy images in girlie magazines, the primary object of my desire has been the soft, peachy fullness of a woman’s bottom. The image that never failed to send waves of pleasure crashing through me, while thick streams of cum spurted from my painfully rigid penis, was always that of a beautiful young model, gleaming and on all fours, looking over her shoulder at the camera as if to say “fuck my ass, you know you want to.”
And want to I did. While I enjoyed plumbing the depths of a ripe and swollen pussy, or watching my cock slide between a pair of crimson lips, my secret desire was always anal sex. Thoughts of it filled my nights, and it dominated my wanking fantasies. I amassed a considerable collection of pornography dedicated to that single forbidden act of passion, and the images of long, thick cocks being slowly crammed into the assholes of beautiful women only increased my desire for the taboo. The knowledge that it was surely painful, and yet so pleasurable for many women it was still worth doing only made it more tantalizing; a delicious sin that might be within reach, should I only find the right woman.
For many years the fantasy remained just that, something I could picture in my mind that was guaranteed to stiffen my dick and summon an orgasm when required, and it was only when I was at college when my wishes were finally granted. Though I had been with many women before then, they had all made it perfectly plain that anal sex was not and never would be on the menu, despite the fact that they had never tried it and therefore had no real idea whether they would enjoy it or not.
I had been seeing Mickey, a beautiful young woman from Malta, for several weeks now, and had been reaping the carnal benefits since our second date. Mickey was stunning, five foot five of lithe muscle, tanned skin, inky black hair and dark eyes. Though we were not together exclusively, I wasn?t sleeping with anyone else at the time. Mickey was a firecracker with whom it took most of my energy to keep up with in bed; tireless, sexually aggressive and inventive, she was paradoxically coy about things beyond the scope of what she called “normal sex.” I wasn’t entirely sure of it at the time, but I had the lurking suspicion that I was falling in love with Mickey, and didn’t want to propose anything that might scare her off. Still, she had a perfect ass; firm, gently rounded and tanned, with a light pink asshole like a rosebud that stirred my blood and fanned the flames of my secret lust.
We were fucking when it happened. She was straddling me, grinding her clit against my pubic bone and lightly squeezing her firm breasts in the way she knew got me off. I was close to the edge, and trying very hard not to come before she did, when she looked down at me and said “what do you think of when you want to come?”
It was such an out of place question that it threw me off my stroke, and I stopped, staring at her in puzzlement. She leant forward, her dark hair falling across my face, her hard nipples brushing the hair on my chest. “What is it you think of?” she asked again, gently biting my right earlobe.
“You don’t want to know,” I replied, confident it was true. She grinned and squeezed my cock with the muscles of her pussy. “Yes I do,” she said.
I thought for a moment. Did I want to tell her? If she shared the opinion of every other woman I’d been with, she’d think I was a pervert, that anal sex was in some way degrading and disgusting. When I’d suggested it once to a former girlfriend, she’d waved a “Cosmopolitan” article at me that suggested that men who liked anal sex were sick and either really hated the women they were with or were secretly gay. The same article had quoted statistics that stated that over 30 percent of women in the US regularly practiced anal sex, but I’d been ignored when I’d pointed out that these women must find something good about it, otherwise they wouldn’t keep doing it. Logic never went over big with some people. I didn’t want to blow it in the same way with Mickey, especially since she didn’t like me touching her there, and objected if my cock even accidentally pointed at her ass.
While I was thinking, my cock made the decision for me. Thinking about fucking her in the ass made my dick even harder. Mickey’s eyes widened as she felt me swelling inside her. “Tell me,” she commanded firmly. Looking her in the eyes, I slowly slid my hand down her sweat slicked back and around the curve of her buttocks. Then I gently dipped my finger into the crack of her ass and rested it on the edge of her anus. She jumped slightly, but didn’t object.
“I think about fucking you here,” I said.
Mickey looked at me levelly, her expression unreadable, while I waited for her to flip out. Then, smiling, she started moving again, rubbing her bush back and forth over the bump of my pubic bone, stimulating her clit while stuffed full of swollen cock. Her chest flushed pink and her breathing grew ragged. Then she leaned back and slid a slender hand between her thighs, a delicate finger stroking her clitoris. I sat upright, pulling her to me and suckling on her breasts as she wrapped her legs around me and sank down with her full weight, driving my aching penis even deeper inside her. Shuddering, she raked my back with her nails as she came, and my cock fountained thick gobbets of hot juice inside her as I speared her ass in my minds eye.
Later, as we lay tangled together, she walked her fingers through the hair on my chest, and looked up at me. “Do you really want to fuck me in the ass?” Even though I’d cum explosively only minutes before, my dick stirred at the words. While I struggled to find a way to answer that wouldn’t brand me a pervert, Mickey’s wandering hand brushed across my stomach, touching the tip of my penis. She glanced down, and saw my hardness returning in record time. “I guess you do,” she said.
I tried to laugh it off. “Pet perversion,” I said.
“Ever done it?”
I shook my head, my mouth dry. “Never found the right girl.” Mickey took my hand and guided it to her body, moving it in stroking movements down her side.
“I want you to be happy,” she said, looking me in the eyes. “I want what you want.”
I didn’t quite understand, and I guess the confusion showed in my eyes. I think I can be excused for being dumb; I’d just had my brains fucked out by a beautiful hard-bodied 19 year old, and I had a fresh load of sleep hormones running around my system.
She kissed me, pressing her soft, full lips against mine. “Fuck me in the ass, lover,” she whispered. “Make me love it.”
The thought of taking her in the way I’d always wanted to was almost too much for me. My cock stiffened rapidly, swelling until it felt as hard as an iron bar, the glans full and dark purple. I covered her body with kisses, slowly working my way down to her lush pussy. As I parted her thighs, I licked my lips in anticipation. I love the taste of pussy, and I get a genuine kick out of being able to make a woman climax with nothing more than my lips and tongue. Slowly, I slid my tongue around the edge of Mickey’s labia, enjoying the taste of her juices and my jism combined. She moaned softly and wriggled, but I held her hips firmly and continued my exploration. Deftly, I slithered my tongue across her pussy, briefly sliding it inside her like a miniature cock, before flicking it across her clitoris, still swollen after our earlier passion. She moaned louder, and arched her back, pushing her mound against my mouth as if offering herself to me. As I gently sucked on her clit, I slid a finger inside her, working it around as she writhed with pleasure. As I continued to suck and lick her clitoris, her breathing came faster and faster, until she cried out, and I felt a fresh flood of juice against my tongue. Before she finished coming, I slowly slid my lubricated finger up her ass. The effect was electric. She gasped, pulling my head closer to her bucking pussy, grinding herself against my mouth while I finger-fucked her ass.
As her orgasm subsided, I continued to gently lap and lick at her pussy, avoiding her clit until it wasn’t quite so sensitive. Just as her breathing returned to normal, I slithered my tongue across her little bud again, this time gently brushing it with my teeth. She bucked like she’d been electrocuted, her nipples bullet hard, the flush on her chest taking on the distinctive shape that always reminded me of Superman’s chest emblem. As she came, I slid a second finger into her ass, and gently pistoned the two fingers in and out. With a choked cry, she hit another peak, and I pulled my head away just in time to avoid her tearing my ears off.
After lying still for a moment, Mickey looked down at my. “I think I’m ready,” she said breathlessly, her lithe body gleaming with sweat. I lay down behind her and wrapped my arms around her.
“Not yet,” I whispered in her ear. Goosebumps pricked her skin all the way down her body, a sure sign she was seriously turned on.
“Are you trying to drive me crazy?”
“Uh-huh,” I agreed, gently biting her earlobe while I moulded myself to her back. We lay like spoons for a while, my hot, hard penis nestled in the crevice of her buttocks. Mickey flexed her ass experimentally, and my cock twitched in response. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this hard, and I wondered whether I’d even get inside her, or whether I’d just be so turned on I’d shoot all over her instead. I wasn’t averse to drenching Mickey with cum, in fact it was a standard of our sexual repertoire since she loved the sight of me kneeling over her and spurting streams of jizz onto her face and tits, creamy white on dark skin. But I badly wanted to fill her ass with hard cock.
As Mickey ground her backside against my hardness, I slid a hand over her belly and between her thighs, where I sought out the bud of her already sensitive clit. She pressed her beautiful ass against me as I started to gently strum her button, and I nearly shot my load then and there. Marshalling all my willpower, I concentrated on driving her wild instead, and within minutes I’d stroked another orgasm from her. By this time her body was soaked in sweat and was burning hot. I was ready to tease her again when she rolled onto her stomach, fire in her eyes.
“I want you. Now,” she growled, her voice thick with desire. She pulled herself up onto her hands and knees, and tucked the pillows under her tummy. I crossed the room to get the bottle of lube she kept on the dresser, and looked back at her beautiful backside gleaming with perspiration. She looked like one of the models of my boyhood fantasies. My cock felt like it was made of steel, and it looked like a club of knotted wood.
“Are you sure?” I asked, determined to give her the chance to change her mind rather than permanently mess up the best relationship I’d had in years. She looked over her shoulder at me, her dark eyes full of promise and lust, and wiggled her bum at me enticingly. Slowly she slid her hand down across her butt, and gently began to frig her ass with her index finger.
“I want your cock in my ass.”
I really didn’t need to be told again. I crossed the room in a trice and squeezed some of the lube into my palm. After rubbing it between my palms to warm it, I began to work it into Mickey’s asshole with my fingers. She moaned softly as I did so, and pushed her ass back onto my hands. “God, I feel so hot,” she whispered. I knew how she felt. My cock had begun to ooze with pre-orgasmic fluid. If this kept up, things’d be over before they began.
Kneeling behind her, I slathered a film of lube onto my jutting cock, greasing it up. Then I took its hot weight in my hand, and pressed it gently against her asshole. She jumped, and for a second I thought she was going to back out. Then she relaxed, and I felt her puckered hole open slightly, grasping at my glans. “Do it,” she pleaded, looking back at me and licking the full lips I’d so often seen clamped tightly around my spurting cock.
Slowly, gently, I pressed the head of my penis into her asshole. She pressed back against me as I pushed, and the sensation was so delicious I thought I was going to burst. Then, suddenly, the glans was inside her, being gripped by the ring of her sphincter. She was breathing heavily, and the insides of her thighs were trembling. I looked down, and the sight of my cock partially inside her sexy ass made me harder still. I was beginning to get dizzy, and it felt as if every drop of blood in my body was rushing towards my cock and balls.
We rested for a moment as she got used to the feeling of something in her ass. Then I pushed slowly forward, burying more and more of my grotesquely swollen dick inside her. I ran my hands across her back and rested them on her taut buttocks, watching amazed as she claimed more and more of me. The sensation was exquisite, like nothing I’ve ever felt before. She was soft inside, slick and hot, and incredibly tight. I could feel her internal muscles gripping me, almost pulling me in. I could feel my orgasm closing in, like a distant storm, and sweat was pouring down my back and thighs. Mickey was sweating too, and I could feel her asshole starting to try and squeeze me out.
“Relax,” I breathed into her ear. “Just let it happen.”
“It… hurts,” she whispered. “Don’t stop.”
I slid my hand under her belly and up her thigh. As I found her pussy I realized it was literally dripping. I slid another half-inch of cock into her and flicked my fingertip across her clitoris. Mickey moaned, and pushed back onto me. As I stroked her clit she started to rock backwards and forwards, her tight little butt flexing as I slid more and more cock into her asshole. She was trembling as I pressed my balls against her, and her breathing was ragged.
“You’ve taken all of me,” I whispered, kissing her neck. “Can you feel that? All of me in your beautiful ass?”
“Yessss,” Mickey breathed. “God, yes. You’re in my ass. Your hard cock is in my ass.”
“Can you feel how deep I am?” I was so proud of her.
She nodded. “So deep. So hard.” Her voice was low and gutteral. She looked back at me, then glanced down, trying to see where our bodies joined. She shuddered then, and her eyes took on a faraway, almost dreamy look.
“Fuck my ass,” she moaned. “Make me come.”
Slowly, I began to slide my cock in and out. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t come yet, and was so turned on by the sensations and by the fact Mickey was asking me to do this that I almost wondered whether I could come at all. Looking down, I was treated to the sight of her buttocks twitching, skewered on a dick so fat and hard it was tough to believe it was mine. Slowly I withdrew my cock until only the head was inside her, then I drove it back in. Mickey gasped and arched her back. “Oh, fuck yessss,” she moaned. “Like that, baby. Fuck me.”
Her wish was my command. I gripped her hips and pulled her back on me, savagely driving my throbbing cock into her asshole. Faster and faster I slid my cock in and out of her, pulling it almost completely out, then shoving it back in. The blood was ringing in my ears, and my head was spinning. My hips took on a life of their own, pumping back and forth, slamming my dick up her ass harder and harder.
“Christ!” Mickey spat. “Oh Jesus, that’s right. Fuck me. Fuck my ass. Fuck it hard you bastard!”
Sweat was rolling down my chest in fat drops as I crammed my rigid dick into her. By now her butt was shaking like a jelly, her thigh muscles trembling, her love juice running down her thighs in a stream. I was fucking her hard and fast, slamming my cock deeper up her ass with every stroke.
“I want your juice, lover. Cum for me,” Mickey gasped. My balls tightened, and I felt my cock get even harder than it had been before. “Cum, cum, cum,” she breathed as I thrust into the sweltering heat of her as. My glans was so swollen it hurt, and for a brief moment I wondered if it might burst, then pleasure fogged my brain and my nervous system caught fire. My back arched as I lost control, and I roared as I shoved my dick as deep as it could go. Then I exploded, sending spurt after spurt of steaming cum up her hot, tight little ass.
“OH GOD!” shrieked Mickey. “IN MY ASS. YOU?RE CUMMING IN MY ASS!!!” The rest was lost as she came herself, clawing at the sheets and screaming like a panther in heat while I continued to pump what seemed like pints of thick, heavy semen in her backside. My orgasm simply wouldn’t stop, and I was squirting so much juice into Mickey’s ass that it started to back up and drip out and down her thighs.
Afterwards, we lay quietly together, occasionally laughing as we realized that everyone in the student house - if not the entire street - had probably heard Mickey’s climax and knew exactly what we’d been up to. After I washed myself off, I returned to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway to admire Mickey’s body as it shone in the lamplight. She was lying where I had left her, face down amid the sheets, her beautiful ass raised by the pillows under her tummy. I could see a creamy trickle smeared on one buttock where my huge ejaculation was slowly leaking out of her abused anus. Despite the fact that my balls were still aching from the flood of cum I had produced, my dick began to fatten at the memory.
Sitting next to her on the bed, I kissed her hair.
“Are you okay, love?” I asked her.
“Yes,” she murmured sleepily, her voice muffled by the pillow. “That was incredible. I could feel you, twitching and spurting inside me. In my ass.” She shuddered with remembered pleasure. “It was so hot.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“Yes,” she said huskily, and my heart sank. She waited a beat before turning over with a wicked gleam in her eye. She leant forward, and flicked her tongue impishly across the oozing tip of my hardening cock. “Let’s do it again. You know you want to.”

Although Amy and I have had an interest in each other for while now, we never actually had the right circumstances to get together. We met at a club and instantly hit it off. We would exchange emails and pictures but we never were able to get to the final step. Well, that would all change with one phone call.
Amy had called me and said that she was going shopping and asked if I would be interested in going. Of course I was excited to see her and I am always excited to go shopping. So I got dressed and told that I would be happy to go. I didn’t dress in anything special, just jeans and sweatshirt but I hoped to find something nice while shopping. When Amy pulled up, I hopped in the car and quickly noticed how amazing she looked. She had on a jeans and white button down shirt. She looked very good but also very sexy and I couldn’t help but notice how great she smelled. “How are you” Amy asked.
It took me a few seconds to respond, I was still taking in the sight of her. “I’m ok I guess” was the best I could get out.
“We will have fun today. We need to find you a new outfit for this weekend” Amy said with a giggle.
“What’s this weekend” I asked.
“Oh nothing” she said.
She must have had a plan all along because Amy had a specific store for us to go to as soon as we got there. We went and found a new pair of jeans for me. Now these were not just any jeans. These were definitely “fuck me” jeans. This was typically something that I would not even try on let alone wear but Amy insisted that I at least try them on. I have to say that I was a bit excited by the look on Amy’s face when I walked out of the fitting room.
“Turn around. Wow, you look great” she said. I gave her a quick smile. “Especially that red thong you have poking out.” Like I said, I am not used to wear clothes so revealing and I didn’t even notice that I was exposing half the store to my underwear. As I turned to walk back into the fitting room Amy stopped me. “There is just one more thing that I need you to do before you change” she said. “I need you to give me thong when you come out”
“But what for, what will I wear home? ” I said.
“Don’t wear anything” she said with a grin.
As we left the mall, I was a bit confused. I had no idea what Amy had in mind for this weekend but I went with it. I must admit that it all did have me quite curious and quite excited. As we were driving home Amy asked me for the thong and just kept on talking like nothing happened.
“I’ll call you Friday” She said as I climbed out of the car.
*****************************
About 2:00 Amy called and asked if I was excited about tonight? Which of course I was, I haven’t stopped thinking about it all week. I had no idea what was going on but I knew that something special was about to happen. She said she would be by at 8:00 to get me. Now all day I was getting more and more excited. At about 7:00 I hopped in the shower, which got me going even more. The hot soapy water rushing all over my body felt amazing. My hands washed over my now hard nipples, while visions of the pictures Amy had sent me danced in my head. “Ok, get a grip” I said to myself and got out of the shower and walked to the bedroom.
Underneath my brand new jeans I wore a sexy pair of see-thru panties. I had no idea if I need to get all dressed all fancy but I didn’t want to disappoint. Next I put on a nice but sexy shirt that hugged my breasts rather nicely and finally I put on my favorite perfume.
Just then I heard a knock at the door which almost startled me. I was in another place, thinking of Amy, thinking of the shower, thinking of her pictures. As I opened the door, I saw her standing there and knew that I was in trouble *wink*. She looked incredible once again. Amy had on a short black skirt, with a red shirt. Her hair fell over her shoulders and she just looked so sexy.
“Can I come in” Amy asked.
“Sure” I replied. “So where are we headed tonight”
“Who said that we were going anywhere” she said as she leaned in gave me a soft gentle kiss. Her lips felt so soft and amazing that instantly all I could imagine was her lips touching and kissing my body all over.
Amy walked over to the couch and I went to the kitchen and got a bottle of wine. As I sat down next to her I noticed how great she smelled and I kept thinking about her kiss. I kept staring at her lips as we talked, imaging them running up and down my neck.
We started talking and wondered why we never made to this point before. We had no answer but I knew that there was no going back now. Glass after glass of wine had been drank and before you knew it, the bottle was empty.
“Excuse me” Amy said “May I use your bathroom?”
“Of course, it’s down the hall” I told her. As she got up and walked away, I couldn’t help but stare at her from behind. The way her ass looked in her tight skirt, mixed with the half bottle of wine I drank, I was getting so excited. A million thoughts came to mind while she was gone. Mainly how attracted to her I was, how great her kiss felt. I had hardly noticed how wet I had become And I was about to take a step that I had never taken before with Amy. I was excited, I wanted her and I was going to get her. As walked out of the bathroom, I was standing there waiting. “Oh, you scared me” she said laughing.
I didn’t say a word and just leaned in and kissed her. My lips met hers and I flood of passion just overtook me. I could not take my lips off of hers. My hands now pulled her closer to me as my breasts rubbed up against hers. Her hands moved to my ass and I could feel her finding her way into my jeans. Just as my hands started to feel for her skirt, I stopped my self. “Come with me” I told her as I grabbed her hand and let her upstairs. While I walked I made a point of going slow, knowing that her eyes where starring strongly at my ass, at my panties peaking out past my jeans.
Amy sat on the end of the bed as she watched my start to undress. Slowly I pulled off my shirt revealing my breasts. Quickly she sat up leaned in to kiss me and I could feel my now hard nipples rubbing up against her shirt. She kissed her way down my neck, slowly licking, kissing, biting. I couldn’t wait for her to take my breasts in her mouth, almost leaning them into her face. With both hands she held my breasts as trailed her tongue down to my nipples, first one, and then the other. I moaned out as she gently twirled them with her tongue. My hands when to her head while she expertly kissed and sucked on my nipples. The pleasure was amazing and pussy began flood with desire. I unbuttoned my jeans and Amy quickly helped me pull them off.
Standing there in just my panties, I said to Amy “your turn.” Amy stood up and removed her shirt and I leaned in to kiss her. Pulling off her bra, our breast met each other and feeling was incredible. My nipples rubbing against her soft skin, her soft breast was wonderful.
What happened next sent me over the edge. She turned around and slowly, teasing me, she removed her skirt revealing that she was wearing the thong that I was wearing the other day. The thought of my thong rubbing against her wet pussy drove me nuts and I gently pushed Amy forward so she was bent over the bed.
Quickly I kneeled behind her, staring at my thong wrapped around her beautiful ass. I leaning kissing her thighs. Licking, sucking, and trailing from her knees to her thighs with the tip of my tongue. First one, then the other, licking slowly to the op of her thighs. Sliding my tongue along the curves of her ass.
I moved my hands to push her ass apart. Looking at my thong I could see how excited Amy was, it was soaked with her juices. I couldn’t wait any longer and I slide my tongue against her pussy over the thong. Even with the thong on she still tasted amazing. Tracing every inch of her with my tongue, licking up every drop I could, Amy began to moan.
Sliding one finger under her thong, I moved it to one side, exposing her wet and dripping pussy. Everything about it sent a wave of excitement over me and I dove into her. My hands holding her apart so I could have all of it. My tongue darting over her pussy lips, sliding over every fold. Finally I darted my tongue inside of her. She tasted amazing as her pussy was drooling all over my chin and face.
Listening to her moan, I slide a finger inside of her. She was so wet and the sound of her moan drove me crazy. Quickly I dove back in, licking and sucking her pussy while I slid another finger inside of her. Just then Amy started to buck up and down and she yelled that she was about to cum. She pushed her pussy back at my face, almost knocking backwards. Her juice now all over my face as she moans louder and louder. I slide my tongue out just long enough to tell her “Cum Amy, Cum all over my face”
With one load scream, Amy came with such force that she almost broke my neck. I pulled away from her, staring at her dripping pussy and feeling my own need to cum. I stood up as Amy rolled over on her back. “I need to taste you” Amy told me and I wasted no time in complying.
Removing my panties, climbing up on the bed I positioned myself right over her mouth. As I lowered my pussy to her mouth, I knew that this would not take long. I needed to cum and I was so excited and so hot that I knew Amy would have me screaming in no time. The first sensation of her tongue hitting my pussy almost did it and I started rubbing against her face harder and harder. With her tongue inside my pussy, I yelled ” IM CUMMMINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG.” Wave after wave hit and rubbed against harder and harder. Her tongue accepting all that I could give as my pussy flooder her face. Exhausted, I collapsed on the bed next to Amy. Looking over at her I noticed that both of our faces were covered in cum, so I leaned over and kissed her on the lips. By the way I enjoyed the taste of that kiss, I knew there were many good nights to come. After all, I had get my thong back somehow?

There are all kinds of people out there. Extremely kinky people with unusual tastes. Guess what? You’re one of them if you’re here, reading these sex-laced, pointedly provocative phrases. That’s okay because kinky people with odd fetishes make the world a far more interesting place than it would be without them. If you’re a straight up kinky man or woman, don’t worry. We are fully equipped to satisfy you. Sit back, relax, and enjoy this tale of extreme kink and debauchery. You’ve definitely come to the right place and we absolutely promise that we will not let you down. If you like it hot, then we have a bevy of sensual excitement just for you.
Ralph and Sarah Edmond are a very kinky interracial couple. Sarah is a tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, slender white chick. She’s originally from Detroit but she loves Atlanta . After all, it’s where she met her dear hubby. Ralph is a tall, broad-shouldered, muscular Black man with jet-black skin. They’re both very good-looking and athletic. Ralph used to play football for Georgia Tech. Sarah Edmond played soccer for the Georgia State University women’s soccer team. They met while reaching for the same book in the campus bookstore. It was love at first sight.
Three years later, they were still going on strong. A happily married young couple in their twenties, living in 1970s Atlanta , Georgia . Ralph is a graduate of the Georgia Tech School of Criminal Justice who works as a policeman with the Atlanta Police Department. Sarah works as a nurse at the local hospital. She also attends college at night while working on her Master’s Degree in Nursing. Tonight, they are bored and want to try new things. Sarah is a wickedly kinky gal and she promises her man some special new thrills. Ralph is curious about what she has in mind. This sexy Black man has found his Irish wife to be far kinkier and more sexual than most chicks he knew from the hood. Their sex life was varied, spicy and definitely thrilling. Still, could one improve on perfection?
Ralph and Sarah are lying in bed, entwined in each other’s arms. They’re about to make love, as they usually do before going to sleep. Suddenly, Sarah Edmond rushes to the bathroom, and comes back with a surprise between her legs. Yep, you guessed right. She’s wearing big strap-on dildo. She looks very sexy wearing it. Her husband Ralph seems surprised. Sarah smiles at him and tells him that this is something she’s always wanted to try with him. Ralph is a bit apprehensive but he’s a kinky Black man and readily agrees. Sarah smiles and begins to grease up her dildo with lubricant. Then, she greases up her husband’s sexy ass and asks him to get on all fours. Ralph nods, and assumes the position. She lovingly kisses his perfect ebony butt, then spreads his cheeks for some kinky fun. She slowly guides the dildo into his ass. Ralph gasps. He’s never had anything up his ass before. Sarah stops and asks him what’s wrong. He asks her to be gentle. Sarah nods and continues.
Placing her sleek hands on her husband’s hips, the lovely Irishwoman begins to happily thrust away. She pushes the dildo into the sexy Black man’s ass. Judging by how hard his long and thick black cock is getting, he must be liking it. She begins to fuck him harder and faster. Ralph is taking it and although it hurts a bit, he is starting to like it. He actually hears himself asking for more. Overjoyed, Sarah is more than happy to give him all she has, and then some. She continues to pound his ass with the dildo, taking great care not to hurt him. After all, Sarah is a very kinky woman and not a sadistic bitch. She loves her husband dearly and this is just one more kink they’re trying. Ralph screams in pleasure as she rams the dildo up his ass.
They change positions. Now, Ralph is lying on his back and Sarah faces him as she fucks him with the strap-on. She smiles at him and leans down to kiss him as she thrusts deeply into him. He is caressing her pretty breasts and sucking on them as she continues to pound away. She notices that his black cock is harder and seemingly thicker than it’s ever been. She strokes him while fucking him, running her hand up and down on his massive dick. His dick has given her much pleasure over the years. She loves to have him take her. That cock of his has been in her mouth, pussy and ass. She absolutely loves it. But tonight it’s his turn to be pleasured.
Ralph looks at his wife as she continues to thrust into him. Damn, she looks hotter than ever. Her plastic cock keeps probing his ass, going deeper than anything has ever been before. This is definitely a new experience for him. And he is loving it. So much that halfway through it, cum shoots out of his cock. He screams in pleasure, louder than ever before. Sarah slowly pulls the dildo out of his ass. Then, she leans down and takes his cock into her mouth, sucking him until he’s dry.
Afterwards, they lay in bed together, laughing. Talk about intense sex! This is definitely the kinkiest sex act they’ve ever performed together. Sarah looks into her husband’s eyes. They’ve just ventured into new territory. She hopes it hasn’t changed things between them. He’s still her husband and she’s still his wife, very much in awe of as well as in love with the strong, smart and successful man he is. She gets up, picks up the strap-on dildo and puts it back in her erotica drawer. Then, she returns to her husband’s arms. They are husband and wife. What happens between them stays between them. Especially what happens in the bedroom.
Ralph looks naughtily at Sarah. He bumps her cute, round butt with his groin. She looks into his eyes and sees the desire there. She smiles. It’s a good thing the bottle of lube is still nearby. There’s still much use they can get out of it. Moments later, Sarah Edmond is on all fours, and her husband Ralph holds her slender hips in his massive hands. Gently, he spreads her cheeks and guides his cock into her ass. Sarah grimaces as he enters her. There’s a slight pain, but nothing she can’t handle, thanks to her resolve and lots of lubricant. Ralph thrusts into her, and buries his cock into her bum. He goes hard, and deep inside her. He is all power, all strength and all speed. He fucks her, giving her all he has. Sarah feels every stab of his hard cock in her ass. And she welcomes it.
As he continues to pound away at her, she screams, alternately asking him to stop and begging him for more. They change positions, and she lies on her back while he takes her from the front. His hard cock is still deep in her ass, and this time she looks into his eyes as he takes her. His handsome face is contorted with effort. She wraps her arms around him, embracing him as he takes her. He takes her arms and firmly moves them away from his torso. Surprised, she looks up at him. His eyes are closed as he rams it deep into her. Wincing, she feels close to howling like one of the damned. Finally, it happens. He arches his back, then falls back into her arms. She feels his cock trembling within her, before releasing his seed. His cry of pleasure is sharp, loud, deafening. It is a roar of triumph. His body shakes in her arms.
For a moment, they remain like this, without a word. He looks into her eyes, and smiles. His forehead is covered with sweat. She wipes it with her hand, then kisses it. He is laughing, still inside her. He buries his face in her lustrous blonde hair, and she wraps her arms even more tightly around his ebony form. She welcomes this, more precious to her than the pleasure and the pain. He says her name, and it’s a moan of thanks. Only then does she smile. He’s back with her. As he should be. For a moment, she feared that she lost him, that they went beyond the point of no return. For a moment, she thought things weren’t going to be the same between them. Now she knows better. They were better than before.

Anita was bored. Her husband was always working and there were only so many days that she could sunbathe without being getting restless. Now her brown skin was glowing after days in the sun and the beaches of the south of France were beginning to pall. She began to sunbathe nude on the balcony where she could stroke herself, amuse herself, thinking of her adventure with the two Frenchmen that always gave her an erotic charge when it passed through her mind. The thought that someone might be watching her despite the privacy of her balcony gave her an extra frisson of excitement and when she saw a boat in the bay, she imagined that it was her two heroes watching her with binoculars and that was when her orgasm was strongest and most violent.
Her husband realised that she was bored by the none too subtle comments that Anita passed as he left in the morning and when he was exhausted on arrival back in the evening. Anita wanted a long sensual build up and fireworks in the bedroom but the strain of trying to secure the contract that was the reason for them being there made the lovemaking fast and, for Anita, ultimately frustrating. Sometimes when he slept, she would silently go out onto the balcony and stroke herself as if offering herself to the next voyeur who should gaze in her direction. They were on the 6th floor so only the sailors with binoculars would see, she imagined them giving themselves pleasure as they feasted on her body, open for them and offered to them for their pleasure. After her orgasm she was always calmer and she slept soundly until her husband kissed her goodbye on his way to work.
One morning, after he left, she found an envelope on the pillow. Intrigued and recognising his handwriting she opened it, still half asleep.
“My darling Anita” it said. “I know that this contract is taking longer than expected and that it is difficult for you in a foreign country with no friends. I hope to finish it soon but as a token of my love, please accept this small gift. My French colleagues tell me it is the best in town. ”
Inside was a voucher written in French and English. It was for a full day of pampering at a spa close to the hotel called “La maison de Paradis”. Intrigued, Anita called reception and asked the girl where it was and what did it mean. “oh madame, it means the house of paradise and really it is exclusive, and although I have never been, my friends tell me it is really relaxing and pleasurable.” Anita asked the girl to make a reservation for her and was delighted when she was able to make it for the next day. She then went to the hotelsalon and had a manicure and pedicure, after all, she reasoned, she wanted to look her best with all those ‘exclusive’ people there. She followed this by trimming her pubic hair, almost shaving it completely, leaving her labia clearly visible in the process. An intimate examination with her mirror only served to excite her more and when she took her shower she couldn’t resist her desires, bringing herself to orgasm as she leaned back against the shower wall, as the powerful jets of water on her shaven mound combined with her expert fingers to give her release.
Anita was effusive in her thanks when her husband came home and the lovemaking was stronger, her husband seeming to take excitement from her pleasure at such a thoughtful present. When he left in the morning, Anita was already awake and she kissed him affectionately as he wished her “a perfect day”
Anita woke with goosebumps in the morning. She had heard so much about these spas that she felt like a girl facing an audience for the first time. What to wear? She opened the wardrobe to look for something appropriate. She had an inkling that she would have to undress but still she chose a satin netted bra and a G String panty. She again looked at her nude self in the mirror and thanked her husband because of whom she had started sleeping nude. This invariably ensured a night of passion. An added benefit of it was that she had started loving her own body and could at will examine it almost clinically. No ugly protruding flesh, no overgrowth of hair in the underarms or pussy. A body absolutely picture perfect!
Anita wore a peach coloured salwar suit, brushed her hair, adjusted the dainty anklets as she pushed her pretty feet with bright red polished manicured nails into a pair of golden colured sandals. Breathing deeply as she walked, Anita strode into the spa and was pleasantly surprised to hear the receptionist reply to her in English as she showed her voucher.
Breathing deeply as she walked, Anita strode into the spa and was pleasantly surprised to hear the receptionist reply to her in English as she showed her voucher.
“You have been booked for the full treatment, Madame. If you will follow me, please. ”
Anita was led into a changing room and given a locker with a white robe. She stripped, a little apprehensively not being familiar with the customs of a French spa, and, clad in her robe and thong presented herself at the desk.
The receptionist smiled and looked at Anita’s shapely bare feet and ankles.
“Madame, I think that your anklets are really beautiful just like your feet, but in the spa there will be extremes of temperature and you may find that the metal will become very hot. I recommend that you remove them. ”
Anita looked for a place to remove them but the girl knelt before her and placing her feet in turn on her shoulder, undid the clasps. Anita felt like a queen as she looked down at the girl helping her in such a servile manner and thought that it was true… this really was an exceptional place. She was woken from her reverie by the girls voice.
“Madame, excuse me, but you will not need your undergarments… they will inconvenience you… I will put them in your locker with your anklets. ”
Anita, slightly flustered, realised as the girl knelt before her, that she had seen the new thong that she had bought the day before, as she had removed the anklets. Blushing, she agreed and the girl reached up and gently pulled the thong down as Anita stepped out of it. Blushing more as she knew the girl could see her freshly shaven pussy, she hoped the slight wetness she felt was not visible and then she regained her composure and was led to her first treatment.
Anita felt ready for new and interesting sensations but was surprised as two young blonde women helped her off with her robe, covered her with warm mud then wrapped her in a polythene cover and left her alone. She was warm and cosy in her blanket and the mud sliding between her legs was a sensual surprise as she tried to move. Giving in to the sensation, she dozed off, dreaming of her past adventures and perhaps new ones to come. When they awoke her she was surprised to see that the girls were now wearing tiny bikinis instead of the doctor style coats and curious as women are, she couldn’t help but admire their perfectly honed bodies as they unwrapped her.
They led her, naked but covered in the slightly hardening slime, to an open shower and told her to take hold of the side rails and face the wall. They were going to clean her, and Anita braced herself for the jets that would wash away the mud that had kept her warm and safe. The two hoses started from a distance of about 15 feet and the force was more than she expected ; she needed to hold tight as they were played on her back and legs, blasting the mud away. Once used to the force it became bracing and Anita felt them moving the jets to make sure that the back of her body was clean. In fact, the jets on her lower back and buttocks made her twist and squirm slightly as she enjoyed the sensation. The power of the hoses held by two semi naked women added an element of perversity to the situation which appealed to Anita’s sensual nature and when they told her to face the front so they could hose her down again she turned with a devil may care attitude and stood, naked, legs slightly parted, her hands clutching the support rails.
Anita’s mind wandered and she imagined herself as a slave as she stood there, arms apart holding the rails, legs parted for balance and ready to take the jets of warm water. Submissive, yet defiant in front of the two women with their hoses ready to assault her body. She gasped as one was aimed at her legs, the power almost knocking her over, but she recovered and stood firm holding the bars tight as if manacled to them. The other hose cleaned the slime away from her breasts and stomach and she felt her sensitive chocolate nipples harden as the jet played over them. With one jet running up and down her legs and the other on her body, she felt cleansed but strangely aroused as if two powerful forces were taking her defenceless body and when one moved down to her mound she gasped at the sensation.
The two blonde Frenchwomen hesitated for a moment but seeing no complaint or resistance they smiled knowingly at each other and continued. They had seen many women take pleasure from the way they manipulated their water jets and their first Indian lady, looking beautiful, golden and proud was a challenge to them.
Anita stood, head back, as they played with her. They knew where to aim the jets and the pressure required to soothe, excite and stimulate. After her frustrations of the previous days and the fantasies that constantly ran through her mind she was vulnerable to any sensation and this was one she enjoyed, eyes closed, head held back and offering her naked body to them. The women smiled and one nodded to the other as they saw Anita start to move her hips, as if searching for the jets to take her to another level of sensuality.
Now they concentrated on her thighs and lower stomach and the force on Anita’s thighs spread her legs a little wider as she stood in the stall, still arms outstretched ready to take what they would give her. They closed in on her mound, enjoying the sight of this golden beauty now squirming naked in front of them as they moved in for the kill. Anita knew what they were doing but didn’t seem to care. She wanted it, something… almost anything, her desire now peaking to uncontrollable levels. Her composure almost gone, she thrust her hips forward and the blondes took advantage, pouring the jets onto her mound, the pressure vibrating through her pussy until she couldn’t help but let go and offering herself by bending at the knees, she opened up to them. The shock of the first jet on her clit made her moan and when the second one hit her from a different angle she let out a loud moan as her orgasm ripped through her. Naked… open… she had let two women bring her to orgasm. Partly shocked with herself and partly elated she calmed herself. The women had known when to stop and now towelled her down, saying nothing. Their enigmatic smiles as they dried her seemed to tell Anita that this was a normal reaction to their skills and when one told her that she was very beautiful, she blushed with pleasure.
They put her robe on and led her to a room where she could lie down and relax. Soft music and scents filled the room and Anita lay there alone with her thoughts. Her skin felt so soft after the mud treatment and the hosing down and the strong orgasm had left her in a state of calm such as she had never known. She started to let her mind wander again and thought how open she had been. It was easier somehow to let ones desires show in this country. She had been naked in front of women, of course, but had never let her sexual desire be seen in such a way. The fact that she had succumbed to an orgasm, that surely they had engineered, in front of them seemed impossible in the past but here… she felt ready for anything. Feeling liberated.. a libertine… she drifted off to sleep.
She was awoken by a gentle touch on her shoulder. The first thing that Anita noticed were beautiful piercing green eyes smiling at her. “My name is Sabine” she purred in her lovely soft accent. Anita blinked and stretched, sitting up on the bed warm in her robe and at ease with the world. “Mmmm… I feel so good” she murmured.
“I think that Madame enjoyed the mud treatment, isn’t it?”
Anita smiled at the accent and blushing slightly replied that it was very satisfying.
Sabine told her that she would be giving her the next treatment which would be a massage. Realising that this would be quite a long session. Anita studied Sabine more closely, noting that she was about 30, looked very fit as far as she could see and had golden skin with a stunning face. She wore her hair very short and the blonde crop gave her an almost tomboy look apart from the full lips that seemed so very French. What am I thinking about, she thought, daydreaming over a woman’s lips. Whatever next.. she smiled to herself… she felt safe here and welcome… they seemed to like having an Indian lady here… in any case, she felt proud to be different from the blondes that seemed to inhabit the place.
Sabine led her into the massage area and Anita noticed that she had beautifully shaped legs and ankles with good muscle development. Shame about the doctors coat that she wore, I could design something much more attractive, she thought. Mmmm… her mind seemed to be all over the place at the moment… just relax and go with the treatments, she told herself with a smile.
The room was warm, almost too warm and Sabine apologised as she tried to get the air conditioning to work. She apologised profusely and asked if Anita wanted to have the massage another day if she was too hot. Anita replied that she was used to the heat but that a fan would be nice. Sabine found one and turned it to blow gently over the table. The problems with the a/c and finding the right position with the fan made for a certain complicity that they both appreciated. Sabine slid the robe off Anita’s shoulders and helped her onto the massage table instructing her to lie face down. Naked again, thought Anita… well its what you enjoy she thought with a giggle. She rather enjoyed her exhibitionist tendencies but surprised herself by saying :
“Sabine, if its too hot for you I don’t mind if you take your coat off”
“Oh Madame, thank you. It would be easier for me if you don’t mind. In any case, its better to massage in the nude, I can feel more at one with the customers needs. ”
With that she unbuttoned her coat and Anita couldn’t help but look. She was golden all over with a flat hard stomach and firm smallish breasts with delightful light brown nipples. She obviously spent time in a gym as her body was lightly muscled and glowing with health. Eyes drifting down, Anita saw she was totally shaven, her mound smooth and as brown as the rest of her body.
“I have something special for you” said Sabine, placing a CD into the player. The sound of sensual Indian music drifted through the room giving a delightful mix of hedonism and familiarity to the atmosphere. Anita saw her look up and down her body, studying it with the eye of a professional and seeing the occasional smile as she examined her.
Anita closed her eyes, took a deep breath and lay there ready for Sabine to start. The first touch made her jump but she soon relaxed as Sabine poured warm oil over her back. The smoothing of the oil on her body was delicious, the firm yet soft hands soothing her, first her shoulders, arms then lower back and when her buttocks trembled slightly under the masseuse’s expert touch she felt a sense of letting go… almost a submission to Sabine. Her legs and feet were coated with the oil and Anita’s body felt so relaxed.. out of her control… that when Sabine parted her legs to coat her inner thighs, she moaned softly and felt a familiar wetness beginning to form in her most sensitive spot between her thighs.
For a moment a feeling of embarrassment crossed her mind but then she thought that this was probably normal here in France. After all, this was just a reaction to a pleasurable experience and surely her masseuse would have seen many women daydreaming about their lovers while being massaged. So she relaxed, not bothering to close her legs when Sabine had coated them and, with the oil on her body, she couldn’t tell what was oil and what was her body’s reaction to the hands that stroked her. However, she thought, this girl is good at her job and it is such a pleasure to be treated like a queen. Sabine smiled down at Anita’s naked body lying on the table before her and admired the gleaming skin that had obviously been nude in the sun… no tan lines, just a beautiful golden brown all over except for the pink undersides of her feet. She had never massaged an Indian lady before and at first was concerned that her client would be very prudish and difficult. A twinkle in her green eyes confirmed that she recognised that not only was Anita an open and seemingly liberated woman but she was also a very desirable one and as she stroked and kneaded her back, she wondered how far this beauty would allow her to go… we’ll see… she thought as she climbed onto the table to sit astride her client.
Anita woke from her reverie as she realised what Sabine had done. “Is this correct for you Madame?” Sabine murmured, “It is to get a better position for the massage”
“Yes, of course, Sabine” she replied, a little smile on her lips… whatever next, she wondered.
The new position allowed for a deeper massage of the shoulders and when Sabine’s thumbs pressed strongly up her spine, Anita groaned again. This is so good.. she thought as her back arched against the pressure and her resistance fell away. Totally relaxed, she hardly noticed when Sabine turned to face her feet and when her strong elegant fingers began massaging the balls of her feet, the arches and the ankles, Anita felt Sabine’s tight bottom resting on hers, as if anchoring her while she manipulated her feet. She felt a sudden rush of wetness between her thighs as she felt the firm cheeks rotate on her as her feet were given the most delicious sensations and her mound was rotated against the table. Sabine smiled as she felt her client squirm beneath her and when she took one of Anita’s toes in her mouth and briefly sucked it, the reaction of the body beneath her and the almost pleading moan when she stopped, told her that her client was ready for the next step. The thought made a droplet of desire cling to Anita’s buttock as Sabine lifted her wet pussy off her clients body and turned to face her.
On her haunches, looking down at Anita, she felt the power that she loved coursing through her body as she spoke “Turn over please, Madame. ”
It was a softly spoken order and Anita obeyed, lazily twisting her body under her masseuse until she was looking up at a smiling Sabine, taking in her oiled hands and the light sheen of perspiration on her body. Sabine reached for the oil and spread it over her hands as Anita closed her eyes, half sleepy and half tingling in anticipation. This was not a deep massage like on her back, this was a series of caresses as the oily hands stroked her stomach and moved around her breasts, stroking them upright but never touching her nipples. Anita felt her chocolate nipples harden as if searching for a caress and her sharp intakes of breath exposed her need as Sabine circled each breast, cupping it, then blowing softly on the sensitive nipple, making her whimper with desire.
Her head started to gently rock from side to side as she gave in to the sensations and when Sabine closed her lips around her nipple, Anita let out a long sigh of fulfillment followed by a moan of pleasure as her nipple was sucked into Sabine’s mouth to be caressed by her soft wet tongue. The masseuse looked down at her work and smiled with satisfaction at the sight of her indian lady in extasy beneath her. Taking her clients wrists, she placed them behind her head and massaged her arms, starting under the armpits moving up to her hands. Sliding up her oiled body she deliberately grazed Anita’s breasts with her own as she moved forward giving Anita a little shock as her sensitive nipples were stroked by light brown but equally hard peaks. With each lengthy stroke from armpits to hands, Sabine’s lithe body slid over the darker body pinned to the table. She loved feeling this delicious, exotic lady under her control and when she stretched her legs to lay them between Anita’s legs, there was no resistance, only a sigh as her mound rested on her client’s almost shaven mound.

Growing up in the same neighbourhood as Amy Jones and Samantha Williams, he’d known them from a distance since they were both knee-high to a grasshopper. But he couldn’t remember a single time when the two of them were not together.
If either of them had been in the least bit plain, they would have drawn snide comments from other schoolchildren about their sexuality, no doubt, perhaps even earning nicknames suggesting that their closeness went beyond mere friendship.
But they were far from plain – Amy with her long golden hair and big green eyes, a few sweet freckles on her otherwise perfect face; Samantha with her long mousy hair, a little more demure than her blonde friend but just as breathtakingly attractive. As a result – and the fact that their parents were on the wealthy side - the two girls were the centre of the popular group in school, dating sports studs for the most part – though, of course, always on double dates – and always having someone to open doors for them.
Harry had watched them grow up, turning into stunning young women, and naturally he had daydreamed about being with one or other – or both – of them. Harry wasn’t a sports stud, though. He wasn’t a spod, either – though his parents weren’t rich enough to afford designer outfits like other studs, he wouldn’t have said he was particularly ugly. He was just in that grey middle ground where most kids hang out in school, under the sign that reads “nothing special”.
Things changed when he won the lead in the school play in that final year.
The surprise wasn’t so much that he did win the lead - Romeo, the star-crossed Montague of Verona – he had had some major parts in school plays before and had diligently worked at his acting through his years at school. The surprise was that Samantha Williams won the part of Juliet – it was a bit surprising she’d auditioned at all. Amy had auditioned too, but she didn’t cut the mustard as an actress. The only explanation for their taking interest in the school play was that it was getting towards the end of high school, and they were obviously concerned about having something on their resumé in the ‘interests’ section.
“What d’you mean it’s no big deal?” Finch’s eyes were about as wide as the Mississippi when Harry told him who was to be his Juliet.
Harry shrugged, “It’s just the school play.”
“Yeah, you idiot, don’t you see? You get to make out with Samantha Williams. You never seen the movie?”
Finch was a spod. A brain box with your classic beer-bottle glasses, who wouldn’t get a girlfriend until he hit the jackpot with some clever business move that would bring plenty of gold-diggers out of the woodwork.
They were walking towards the first read through – Finch was the only one of Harry’s friends to have been given a part, in this case the Friar, which was almost good casting.
Harry dismissed his friend’s drooling connotations, he said: “I only get to kiss her once, and it’s not like we’re going to practice. And – it’ll all be on stage, in front of everyone. Including her boyfriend.”
Finch laughed, “You should slip her some tongue. Especially if that ape Jeb is watching.”
*
The girls were just a mystery to Harry: he was just eighteen and had never been close to one before. They looked so beautiful, they smelled so sweet, their laughter was music to the soul and their smiles could melt his heart in a moment. But he was always sure he wasn’t good enough for them. Especially ones as beautiful and aloof as Samantha. He wasn’t a jock, after all, and apart from the folks that returned again and again to perform in school plays, he wouldn’t have said anyone considered him popular.
So it was quite strange to find himself kissing her – even if it was just for the play.
For a while, they just read through the lines. There were long, gruelling practices and even longer, more gruelling hours of line-learning. Harry had always been pretty good at learning his lines, but it was still the hardest part of a major production. Then, at last, they hit the stage and began to work on the actual performance.
After a couple of weeks, Harry found to his surprise that he was quite comfortable around Samantha. She was beautiful, she was one of an unapproachable clique, but because of their close involvement in the play, he found he could forget about her beauty and previous aloofness, and just see her as another performer.
They were just two performers putting on a show, and though Amy came to watch every rehearsal, after a few practices, Samantha seemed to lose that sheen of cliquey aloofness and for the hour or two of each session, seemed almost to join with the performers’ own loose-knit group.
Then things stepped up a gear. They were practicing the scene in which Romeo and Juliet kissed for the first time. The play director, Mr Howard, took them through it, showing them where they should be on stage, how the characters would be thinking, acting, and so on. He didn’t seem fussed that his two lead performers would have to kiss.
They took it from the top, running through the scene with Harry professing his love for Samantha – his mind completely on the lines, putting himself right in the shoes of Romeo himself. Then they came to the kiss and they both stopped, not really thinking that they’d actually have to –
“Hey, why have you stopped?” Mr Howard yelled. “Keep going! Harry, kiss her for God’s sake. You two are supposed to be lovers!”
The two of them paused a moment as it sank in. Harry looked at Samantha, beautiful Samantha, and a burning ache erupted inside his chest. Kiss her. He noticed a look of complete uncertainty pass over her pretty face as she looked at him. There was a snigger or two from some of the other performers as they watched.
“Come on, let’s go back to the previous page and take it from there,” Mr Howard said. “And don’t stop this time, imagine you are actually in love with each other.”
They went back a page and Harry tried to imagine he was Romeo, not Harry, and that she was Juliet, not Samantha. Like jumping into a pool of ice cold water, he decided the best way to approach it was dive straight in, get the shock over quickly and move on.
He leaned into her, imagining they were in love, he looked into her beautiful brown eyes and his lips touched against hers briefly. Her skin so soft, so sweet, he could smell her delicate perfume, even if it was only for a moment. Then they continued with the next line.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Mr Howard broke in. “What was that? You two ever kissed anybody before, or what? Come on, you’re not supposed to be brother and sister, guys! Make me believe you’re in love. This is all about believability. If the audience don’t believe you’re in love, they’re not gonna care a dime when it comes to the tragedy at the end of the show.”
They went back a page again, and this time when the kiss approached, Harry tried to forget he was Harry and she was Samantha. He tried to imagine he was some stud like Jeb, and Samantha was his girlfriend. He leaned into her and really kissed her, tenderly, gently, tasting her lips and breathing in her sweet scent. And she kissed back, closing her eyes and moaning softly as he ran his fingers through her silky hair.
It seemed to go on forever, the most amazing kiss he’d ever had, stirring the warmth of arousal throughout his body. Her hand slipped around to the back of his head, pressing him to her, keeping the kiss going beyond what seemed necessary.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Mr Howard said as they broke apart at last. “On with the show!”
Harry noticed that there were no sniggers now, the other kids in the hall were silent. Looking into Samantha’s beautiful eyes now, he saw a look of what could only be surprise, shock even. She seemed to be slightly flushed after the kiss, and she was looking completely astounded at him standing there in front of her. After a brief moment, she blushed and then quickly went on with her next line, putting the kiss behind her.
At the end of the rehearsal when Mr Howard called time, Samantha hurried from the stage, leaving Harry to stand there scratching his head. And just before she hugged her friend and led her out of the hall, Amy Jones flashed a strange glare at Harry, as though warning him away from her friend.
“What was it like, what was it like?” Finch demanded, as Harry stood watching Samantha and Amy walking away.
“Incredible,” he replied, his voice seeming far away.
“Damn, you two were really going at it – I can’t believe she let you do that!”
“No,” Harry said. “I can’t believe it, either.”
*
The next day, Amy came up to him just before rehearsal got going, and she did not look happy.
“I don’t know what you’ve done to dupe her into liking you,” she said with pure venom in her voice, “but you’d better un-do it fast, jerk, or you’ll be sorry.”
“Wh-what?” he stood there a little dazed, not quite knowing what she meant.
“Sam. If you don’t back off, I’ll tell Jeb, and he’ll beat you into a pulp.”
But Harry wasn’t concerned about the threat of Jeb, and in his daze he didn’t even worry about Amy’s ferocious anger. His head was in the clouds, mulling over the blonde’s first words to him there: I don’t know what you’ve done to dupe her into liking you…
“What d’you mean she likes me?” he said, his insides burning with an intense mixture of excitement and uncertainty.
“God, ever since that kiss she’s gone all gooey, I mean God, you’re such a dork,” Amy said before turning her head and storming off to where Samantha sat learning her lines.
Was this all part of some cynical ploy to humiliate him? Setting him up for a fall? Harry looked over to where Samantha sat, seeing her with a new-found interest. So incredibly beautiful – how could she like him? It was ludicrous.
Up on stage, Mr Howard was getting everyone arranged for the opening scene. Harry walked to the front of the auditorium, to sit next to Finch on the front row on the opposite side to Amy and Samantha. Amy noticed him looking their way and flashed him an angry warning glare.
But then Samantha turned and saw him, and gave him a warm, pretty smile.
Damn.
Of course Harry smiled back, but he turned away from her quickly as he felt the blush spreading across his face. His heart was pounding inside his chest, and he even found he was slightly breathless. But how could she like him? Maybe it was just a friends thing. Maybe Samantha had told Amy she thought Harry was okay, not such a bad guy, not the “dork” the popular kids assumed that everyone outside their clique was.
But it was that word “gooey” that Amy had said that caused Harry to burn inside: that surely meant something.
Then he was up on stage, and though Samantha was sometimes up there with him, with the lines flying thick and fast he had no opportunity to stop and think. But with Mr Howard aiming to put most of this early work into the more tricky and important scenes, they soon came to the kissing scene once again.
As Mr Howard got them going, Samantha looked at Harry, and he thought he detected some fire in her large brown eyes. She grinned impishly, and he was forced to return the expression, without knowing why she was suddenly being nice to him.
And when the moment came, he was rather surprised to find that it was Samantha that leaned forward to kiss him this time, becoming the instigator of the move rather than the reluctant ice maiden.
She kissed him, and fireworks were going off all over the place. It was so incredible, so powerful, the softness of her lips, the sweet scent that filled his lungs, the warmth of her touch and the sweetness of it all. He never wanted it to end, it was the most incredible experience, his body was completely alight, his cock hard as stone as they kissed so tenderly.
“Okay guys,” Mr Howard said, “that’s enough – we’re not staging Nine and a Half Weeks here.”
She broke apart from him, and as the two of them continued with their lines, he saw genuine delight in her face – she couldn’t be that good an actress, surely. Not in her first major production.
Then the scene came to a close, and Mr Howard decided to go back to a scene with Benvolio, in which neither Romeo nor Juliet were present. Harry wasn’t involved and neither was Samantha, but as he walked off-stage to his surprise she accompanied him, and said furtively: “Where did you learn to kiss like that?”
A shot of heat shot through his heart. He gulped, and said: “Uh… well…”
“You’re a really good kisser,” she said, all warm smiles and so heart-stoppingly beautiful. “I’m sure stage kisses aren’t usually like that.”
And then Amy was there, taking Samantha away from him without even acknowledging his presence or existence. Figured.
*
Harry’s preconceptions about Samantha had been rocked – as much by her change in attitude towards him as by her kiss. The aloof picture formed over his school years had begun to tumble down, and goodness how he wanted it to! He wanted to be with her, breathing her in, kissing her and not stopping for anyone.
But was it really possible?
Lying awake at night, he thought about her pretty smile, and his cock was like a pillar of rock – so much so that he found it very difficult to get to sleep. The feelings running through him were so strong – wonder at the experience of kissing her, surprise at what she had said, bewilderment and a little dread at the attack from Amy Jones. His biggest feeling was hope, hope that he could kiss her again like that, hope that it was more than just a stage kiss, more than just acting.
But the trouble was, the only time he could get alone with her – or at least, away from Amy – was up on stage, right in front of everyone. Otherwise, Samantha and Amy were inseparable.
*
All through school the next day, Harry acted as though nothing was going on. He acted as usual in class, talking to his friends, Finch, the others, smiling and chatting as though everything was as it had always been. Finch questioned him about his Juliet, but Harry brushed it off easily.
His calm was put on. Under the surface, a million butterflies of pure uncertainty were fluttering around his insides. He couldn’t stop thinking about Samantha, he really could not stop thinking about that last kiss, and he could not wait for that evening’s rehearsal, to see her again, to kiss her again.
Yet when the time came, Harry’s hopes were dealt a crushing blow: Mr Howard said they’d nailed the more intimate scenes, where Romeo and Juliet kiss. They would spend the rest of the time until the dress rehearsals on some other scenes. There would be no more kissing of Samantha until the actual staging of the production.
He hid his disappointment well, but secretly he was mourning that he would have no excuse to get close to Samantha. And that dufus Jeb was in the audience for this rehearsal, too – sitting next to Amy and her boyfriend as though he were a chaperone. Amy had to have requested his presence.
Still, she was still there, just the sight of her seemed to make his heart beat faster. Stunning. And when she looked at him, she smiled as though he was an old friend rather than someone she considered a “dork”, as Amy apparently did.
He managed to put aside his feelings of disappointment and roll on with his scenes, and thankfully he forgot about it all. The play was going pretty well – Finch was a surprise hit as the Friar – while his death scenes with Samantha were really quite moving.
So it was something of a surprise when she came up to him at the end and said quietly: “Would you mind doing some extra practice with me some time?”
“Extra practice?” he didn’t quite get what she meant, mainly because it was so unexpected.
“Yeah, I mean… if you want to.” She was toying with a strand of hair – was she nervous? How could Samantha Williams be nervous? With the pause growing awkward, she said: “I mean we could run over some of the scenes a little more – so we’re more confident. Mr Howard said it would be a good idea to do some practice out of hours.”
“He did?”
“Yeah,” she smiled warmly. “He said there wasn’t enough time for everyone to get together often enough to really get good enough.”
Harry saw Amy and Jeb stand up, heading slowly towards the steps up to the stage. There was little time left. And funnily enough, he noticed that Samantha also reacted to them approaching, as though she had similar feelings with her best friend and boyfriend on the way over.
“Uh… so how about it?” she said almost under her breath, pressing him to answer before Amy came over.
“Uh yeah…” he said, not believing that she wanted to spend more time with him. His heart was turning in cartwheels, “absolutely.”
“Great!” she smiled cheerfully – the most beautiful picture ever. She slipped a small piece of paper in his hand and said: “Why don’t you come over to my house about eight?”
“Sure,” he said, his voice drying up from this surprising development.
She smiled again, then as Amy and Jeb and Amy’s boyfriend Greg came up behind them, she put a finger to her lips to furtively urge him to keep quiet about their extra practices.
“You were great!” Amy said, putting an arm around her friend before almost physically forcing her to turn her back on Harry and walk away, leaving him standing there with powerful hope burning sensation in his chest.
*
The clock seemed to move so slowly towards eight o’clock that evening. After the rehearsal, Harry went home and surprised his parents slightly by refusing supper. Instead, he went to the bathroom and took a long shower, making sure he was as clean as clean could be.
He couldn’t be certain that Samantha wanted to do anything… intimate… perhaps she did just want to practice the scenes, go over their lines, ensure that the play would be a huge success. But Harry couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility that she might want to see how far their wonderful kiss might go unchecked and out of sight of the other play performers – and Amy.
He felt it was all so unreal, this seemed so unlikely – a nobody like him thinking, hoping, he would be given a chance with a somebody like Samantha. A beauty like her. He felt like the ugly duckling that had woken up one morning to find he was a magnificent swan.
And the biggest hint had to be that Samantha hadn’t wanted him to let Amy know he was coming over.
*
At last, eight o’clock approached, and he found the address she’d written on that piece of paper – she must have written it before that rehearsal – and headed out to find her house.
Somewhat unsurprisingly, her house was in the wealthy side of town – Beauleigh Heights, no less – and when he turned up at the gate, Harry’s jaw dropped in awe. It was a mammoth house, a mansion! Her parents had to be very well-off. Business magnates, lawyers, surgeons or something.
He felt very small walking up the drive to the front door. And as he stood in the porch in front of the door, he felt very nervous. He wasn’t exactly experienced with girls – what if he mis-read her signals? It could all go so badly wrong… And at the edge of his mind there was Amy, who would somehow organise his destruction if she found out he wasn’t keeping his distance from her best friend.
“Harry!”
He didn’t have time to be nervous – before he even rang the doorbell, the door opened and there was Samantha, looking divine as usual. Tonight, with her hair tied in a long ponytail, she was dressed in a pair of soft pink sweatpants and a spotless white tank-top that left her midriff tantalisingly bare as well as the soft swell of the top of her pert little breasts, which made it difficult for Harry to keep his eyes on hers.
“Uh… hi…” he said.
“I’m so glad you made it!” she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. She was wearing a trace of expensive perfume – just enough to heighten her femininity, catch his attention, but not enough to swamp him or asphyxiate him.

Dances to the surging techno beat as simmering spotlights wash over her, blue-white and yellow-pink shining on her skin dark as our species’ African womb. She is visible only in flashes of pulsing light and must be assimilated in pieces: camouflage tank top, orange and green capris, stone-shaped shaved head, huge smile and eyes shut tight.
Arms gyrating and bare feet pounding the floor, she creates the illusion that it is she who is producing the music, that the music is merely dancing to her rhythm, struggling to keep up with her movements in the center of the dance floor.
Is it the center, or is that another illusion?
It is the center, Aly thinks to herself, for in a circle with no perimeter every point is the center. There are other dancers drifting through that space, but Eurasia is the glowing center from which the rest of them spread to darkness.
It is that darkness, the darkness outside of the circle where the spotlights do not touch, the darkness which gives the circle its lack of perimeter, it is that darkness in which Aly hides, watching the beacon shine in the center of the floor.
Sinuous, Eurasia undulates in the ice-hot glow of fluorescent lighting. She is something strange and glorious, and none of the girls will dare to come near her.
Aly dares. She steps into the light, entering a round spiral that will take her into Eurasia’s orbit. A prisoner of her gravity, she spins around dumpy white dykes and lipstick-sporting femmes to move in close to the girl in the center. She keeps a safe distance, a satellite dancing in the light that reflects from her.
Eurasia’s eyes open. “Come here, stud,” she says, and opens her arms wide to beckon Aly forward. Eurasia’s hands slide over her dyke-shaved head, and they dance close together in the warmth of each other’s bodies.
They dance for a long time in the darkness and fire-light in the center of it all, alone but for each other, silent but for the music. Finally Aly speaks, leaning in low over Eurasia’s shoulders to shout into her ear. “Where’s your shoes?”
“Left ‘em at home,” she answers.
“Where’s home?”
“Don’t got one.”
Aly licks her lips, running wet palms down Eurasia’s sweat-slicked shoulders. “Then i’m taking you home with me.”
. . .
Eurasia lies belly-down on Aly’s bed, arms tucked beneath her sides and body entirely still. Her feet hang over the edge, heels and toes of her yellow soles the black of dogs in moonlight. The bed is in an already-dark nook of Aly’s apartment, and under the low light of evening she is almost invisible.
Motionless in the darkness, she blends in completely, Aly’s eyes swimming over her as she glances around the room, her body tuned out as if a longtime fixture of the apartment. Could be the camouflage, Aly thinks, standing at her kitchen-counter sipping milky coffee. As she does so she watches for the gentle waxing of Eurasia’s form that will reveal she is still breathing. The room is silent as the earth.
Aly sets her coffee on the table and walks over, sitting on the side of the bed above the still form. Eurasia suddenly rouses, curling up on her side. “I want to eat your pussy,” she says.
Aly stares, taken off-guard. “Uh, hmm?”
Eurasia rolls into a sitting position. “Your pussy,” she says, “here,” pointing to her mouth.
She stares at Aly with a low, commanding stare, the kind of stare with which a mouse could make a cat its bitch, and under that intense gaze she hurriedly unbuttons her jeans, kicking off her shoes as she hustles herself into bed.
Eurasia topples her instantly, pulling up her shirt to reveal a slope of smooth skin the color of melting chocolate. She runs her hands down Aly’s stomach to the neon-orange panties that cover her crotch.
One finger curls under the waist at each side, pulling her panties out and down from her hips. Beneath a small patch of thick hair like a black forest, her vulva spreads like an exotic plant, anthurium pink and white with tiny green veins.
Eurasia does not waste time but begins to feast, tongue suddenly inside and wailing at her walls. “Uhuhuh-huh, uhuhuhaa!” Aly groans, disarmed again. Eyes bulging, she wraps her hands around Eurasia’s head, fingers spreading like rivers around her ears, and pulls the relentless tongue from her crotch before she climaxes.
Eurasia’s eyes glare up at her, fierce and hungry. Fires fan in those eyes, and Aly shivers, her own pupils shrinking as she releases her lover’s head, hands backing away in quivering fear.
“Oh, no,” Eurasia says, fires quieting to hearths, “come here, dear.”
She puts her arms around Aly softly, easing her shirt up and over her head. Her breasts slip out from under the fabric, dark things soft and sensuous like the night. Eurasia runs her hands over them, thumbing her nipples softly. Then she pulls Aly’s pants and panties from her legs, leaving her body naked but for her socks, her nude form suddenly lithe and lean.
Eurasia pulls her own tank top from her arms, exposing her own breasts, ebony slopes running down to dark knolls. She shifts, her backside gaining light and turning her to a silhouette. Streaks of shine detail the curves of her arms, her head, her breasts.
With barely a sound the shadow before Aly plunges from sight, and then there is that strong tongue lashing inside her. Her moans almost gurgles, she wrests Eurasia’s head from her groin again.
“Now what?” she asks.
“I want to see your cunt,” Aly says. She looks into Eurasia’s eyes, firm, rising from shadow.
Eurasia stands on the bed, crouching beneath the low ceiling. Her capris cling to her legs, military-green with patches of thin orange material. Her hands glide over the taut landscape of her stomach, running towards the waist of her pants. They seem to dance around her navel, a sensuously dark hollow in the slope of her belly.
Unable to resist, Aly jumps forward, wrapping her hands around Eurasia’s ass and curling her tongue into that dark, mysterious navel. Cheek pressed to Eurasia’s slick, warm belly, she explores the tight enclave with the wet softness of her tongue.
“Mmmmm,” Eurasia growls, running her hands around Aly’s smooth head as if to mold it into something. Then she folds them around her chin, pressing her thumbs into the dimples of Aly’s mouth and guiding her head away.
Aly sits back onto her legs and watches Eurasia’s hand undress her. In slow, steady motions they undo her tight orange belt, loosing the elastic to hang from her waist. She unzips the capris and they fall from her like a bird from a tree.
Her vulva spreads from the shadow between her legs like a red fern in a starless valley. Beads of light collect on scarlet and yellow lips, folding from the pink walls of her entrance which pool darkness within them like a lagoon and promise still greater secrets. Her clit slips from blankets of tissue like the dripping pistil of a flower, wet dew building in palpable drops on its tip.
Aly shudders weakly, the space between her legs filling with juice. Her lips drizzle wetness onto her thigh.
“Now?” Eurasia asks.
“Now,” Aly answers.
And then she is upon her, tongue slamming her walls and clit like a steady drumbeat, muscular tongue lashing until she cums and cums, screaming her passion in tongues into the night. Her skin is baked bronze in the heat of Eurasia’s kiln, fire blazing up into caverns of earth within her, burning the world back to wet black soil.
Then they lay, the two of them, around one another, wet flesh on wet flesh, heads on legs and hands on thighs, faceless, nameless, homeless, daughters of the night and fire.

I can’t believe I am standing here naked, at a cocktail party, with my arms held behind my back in handcuffs. I must be crazy, but let me tell you how it all started.
About two weeks ago I met Jeff, an old friend from high school. I have been working as a journalist since finishing university, and Jeff was working as an engineer at a local high tech firm. We went for coffee and talked about old times. He asked what I was working on now, and I told him that I was researching an underground group called Erindale. When I mentioned this, his face lit up, like he was surprised and knew more than he was saying. He said he had heard of the group, but wondered why I was so interested in finding out about it. I told him that I had been doing freelance work for a local community paper, and they had asked me to find out what I could.
We talked for about an hour but Jeff kept steering the conversation back to sexual subjects. He wanted to know everything about my sexual orientation and experience. When I finally asked him why he was so interested in my sex life he said, “April, I have been a member of Erindale for several years.”
Jeff explained that if I was to continue my quest as a journalist, the conversation about Erindale was over. On the other hand, if I was interested in joining the group he would tell me more. He explained that he had no interest in exposing the group to the media but thought that I and Erindale members may be compatible.
Of course I wanted to know more, but it was getting late and Jeff’s company was making me quite horny. I suggested we go back to my place a couple of blocks away.
Jeff was a slow, considerate and passionate lover, much more so than the few men I had met recently. We had sex for hours, and by bedtime I was completely drained.
In the hazy bliss after several orgasms, I again asked him about Erindale, and if he learned all that from his friends. He said that Erindale was indeed a group of friends, but they used BDSM and sex as the glue that held them together, lessened inhibitions and deepened their relationships with each other.
He said that if I was really interested in joining the group, he would try to arrange for me to attend a selection dinner and dance. He explained that every 6 months they had a special party for the purpose of finding new members. Several prospective members were invited but before he would nominate me I had to swear to give up my journalistic interest in the group. It was a secret and private group, and I had to agree to keep it that way. With some reluctance, and total fascination, I agreed. A week later Jeff called and said that the party was in two weeks.
The evening was very different.
All the people were warm and interesting, and many stopped to talk to me and asked me many very personal and intimate questions. I guess I was being tested, because a week later Jeff called and said that everyone liked me, and if I was still interested, I would be accepted. But there was one last big step before becoming a member.
Then he told me that there was a sexually oriented initiation party and I would have to agree to several things on the night of the party. My commitment to this life style would be thoroughly tested. I wanted to know everything.
Jeff said that I had to agree to be the sex slave of the whole group for the evening. If I backed out after the initiation started, I would be banned for life. I had to be sure I was committed because if I failed it would be a mark against Jeff’s judgment in recommending me, and he wouldn’t be able to recommend anyone else for 2 years.
Jeff said that my inhibitions would be put to the test, and I had to trust him and the group. I would be tormented, teased and experience such great pleasure that I would be bound emotionally to the group forever.
“Okay.. Okay”, I said. “What are the conditions?”
It was very simple, I had to abstain from all sex, no orgasms at all, for the next three weeks. Jeff would pick me up at 6:00 pm Friday and we would go for a couple of beers, and show up at the party about 7:30. Almost as an afterthought, Jeff said, “And no panties.”
“That’s all”. I said.
“No,” he said, “You also have to sign a statement that you are a willing participant and that they are relieved of any liability.”
Three weeks seemed like three years. I normally get pretty horny after a week, and at the end of three weeks I was ready to climb the walls. Especially thinking about what might be done to me on initiation night.
Jeff picked me up at 6:00 and we walked to a local pub. Just rubbing against him as we walked sent sent tingles through my body. He was the last person I had sex with, and he was really good, and I was more than horny.
Jeff asked, “Are you ready for the experience of your life?”
He told me that I would be the special person of the evening, and that everyone at the party would be totally dedicated to my pleasure. I asked him what kind of pleasure, and he just smiled and said he was sure that I and everyone at the party would be pleased with the evening. We left about 7:00 and a taxi was waiting outside the pub. I got in the back with Jeff, and before I could sit down, he pulled up my dress so that I sat bare ass on the leather seats. My pussy was already damp, and the half hour ride into the country created a very wet slippery spot on the leather.
The house was large and well lit, and as we entered everyone stopped talking and looked at us. I guess they were wondering what kind of new member I was, and I was sure wondering what I had gotten myself into.
They took me to a small room off the entryway, and explained that unfortunately they had to do the formalities first. The agreement and release were short and to the point, and I signed without reading it.
Two women then took my hands and led me to a bedroom. They undressed me completely, and then tied my hands behind my back with soft lined leather cuffs. I really had to pee by now, from the beer earlier, and asked for a bathroom. They just said that they would show me in a couple of minutes.
They led me to a large patio, where about a hundred people were standing around drinking and talking. Everyone was so friendly, and I was never left alone. One person after another came up to talk to me. As my hands were tied, they offered me their own drinks and held them to my lips. Many men and women softly cupped my breasts, pinched my nipples or gently rubbed my ass and sometimes my pussy.