by Iona Nixon
Olivia stopped to judge Jeana's reaction and Jake took over.
"I realized in the week I was back at college that I don't just like Liv; I'm in love with her. So I came home last night and told her how I felt. The great news is that she feels the same way and we are going to be dating each other."
Jeana looked between the pair her mouth still on the floor then she said
"Like hell you will. What happens if you two don't work out? Do you know how weird that will be for me?"
Jake could see the sadness in Olivia's eyes and knew it was probably mirrored in his own. He didn't want this for Olivia, but damnit he loved her.
"Jeana, I love your brother and I'm going to date him whether you like it or not. This isn't about you and I don't care how weird it might be for you if Jake and I don't make it, because I'm gonna fight hard to make us work. Can't you just be happy for us?"
Jake was a bit shocked at Olivia's bluntness but he liked it, and liked the shocked and baffled look on his sister's face even more. He watched her blink a few times then heard her respond,
"I do want you both to be happy, it's just gonna take a little getting used to the idea of you two together."
With that Jeana got up and walked away. Jake turned to Olivia and took her in his arms and kissed her. Olivia looked up at him grinning and asked,
"So what do you want to do today, handsome man of mine?"
The End.
Digital Manipulation
I wanted him from the moment I saw his hands resting on the counter that rainy Friday afternoon at the pharmacy. They were neither callused, like a construction worker's, nor effete. His nails showed no signs of the dirt or grease that would evince a farmer or mechanic. They were trimmed to the quick, but the beds were long—a perfect end to the shapely fingers they capped.
He waited patiently for his purchases to be rung, tapping his fingertips in time to the inoffensively boring music that wafted through the shop. I imagined that he worked in an office of some sort, for his hands bore no sign of manual labor. Yet they had a strength about them; an enticing dexterity that made me wish he was tapping them in a far more intimate place—a place that was growing warmer and wetter with each flex of his graceful knuckles.
Perhaps he had a hobby or a vocation that required strong fingers. Maybe he was a pianist or a masseuse. I sighed in relief when I found no ring on his left hand, although I was baffled as to how anyone attached to those exquisite hands could possibly be single. As he held out his credit card to the cashier, he glanced over his shoulder at me. That was the first time I looked away from his hands and took in the rest of him.
Unremarkable, really, in comparison to his hands. Neither tall nor short, thin nor fat. Roughly my age. Apparently in good health. Inviting mouth, with a welcoming smile and the white teeth of someone who eschewed coffee, tea, and tobacco. Not unattractive, but not stunning either. He smelled of a woodsy soap, rugged and pleasant. And he carried himself with a quiet confidence, a take-it-or-leave-it attitude that was more contented than arrogant. His hazel eyes held a mischievous sparkle, though, and when they caught mine, I fancied I saw a spark of recognition.
And a question posed with one raised eyebrow.
I not only saw it; I heard it just as clearly as if he'd spoken it—or, rather, kissed it onto the skin of my neck, just below my ear. And I felt it, down there, between my legs. There is no way he could've missed the shiver that passed through my body at that moment. I knew instantly that I would follow him wherever he led, just for the chance to feel those hands on my skin. He could be an axe murderer, I cautioned myself. My rational side was muzzled by a libido that would not be denied.
He signed his name and collected his purchases, stepping aside and turning toward the door. I wanted to call out to him, to tell him to wait for me, but my voice stuck in my throat. The clerk nudged my shoulder to get my attention, and I hastily attended to my transaction with a sheepish flush across my cheeks.
Outside, the rain fell in buckets, and I stood beneath the awning, steeling myself for the dash to my car while hoping I'd have enough private time to take the edge off my hunger before the kids got home from school. Wouldn't take long with the image of those hands in the forefront of my mind.
I took a deep breath and stepped off the curb—and there he was! He took my elbow, silently urging me to run with him. I fancied I could feel the heat and texture of his fingertips through the thick corduroy of my jacket sleeve. We crossed the parking lot in long, splashing strides. Without slowing, I pressed the button on my key fob to unlock the car.
He laughed as I ducked into the driver's seat, a throaty chuckle that made me wonder what he sounded like as he came. Circling the hood, he opened the passenger door and slipped inside. The downpour sounded marvelously loud in the metal confines of my little car, like a roaring train. My blood felt similarly as it whooshed through my veins; my pulse pounding from the rain and the run and—most especially—the touch.
We stared at one another for a few long seconds, until he accepted my silence as acquiescence. I was powerless to move. My body wanted him, ached for his fingers inside it. When he palmed my cheek, I groaned to his touch. He didn't speak, merely leaned across the center console and kissed me—tenderly at first, but quickly growing in urgency. I bit his lips, and he chuckled again.
He dropped his hand and grasped the hem of my skirt, tugging it until it bunched in my lap. His agile fingers bypassed my stockings and went straight for my pussy, like its heat called to them. I spread my legs as far as the steering column would allow, and I thought I heard him murmur in appreciation when he discovered my soaked panties. They provided no barrier to his delicious assault, for he wove his fingers beneath them, pulling them into the crack of my ass as his wrist stretched the flimsy satin.
I bucked against his hand, wanting—needing—him to fuck me with it. I may've begged. It wouldn't surprise me. My head was swimming with a desire so intense that it made me dizzy. I took my white-knuckled left hand from its death grip on the steering wheel and grabbed his bicep, pulling toward me until I finally felt a finger slip inside.
The base of his thumb rested against my clit, rubbing slowly as a second finger joined the first. I lost all sense of decorum, fucking his hand with as much vigor as I'd ever shown a cock. I was shameless. The storm curtained us, not that there was likely anyone outside to oversee—or overhear, undoubtedly—my wanton abandon.
Those long fingers played me, calling my orgasm to them. Come. Come to me. Come for me. It was building fast, fueled by the wickedness of the situation. A complete stranger. In public, even. I sucked his tongue and lost myself in the greedy pleasure.
As I fell into the bliss, riding wave after wave, I heard a raspy voice chanting in time with his rhythmic, powerful thrusts. "Fuck, yes. Oh, fuck. Oh, yes." And I realized the voice was mine.
When he withdrew, I opened my eyes and the world slowly swam into focus. He grinned at me as he licked his fingers, that mischievous sparkle still evident.
I opened my mouth to speak, but he rested a sticky finger against my lips and shook his head as if to say, "Don't break the spell."
Nodding, I straightened my skirt and put the key in the ignition. He palmed my cheek once more and with a wink, opened the door and stepped into the rain. I watched him until the grey curtains of water swallowed his form.
The End.
Session
Lisbeth's skin tingled and there was a low hum of anticipation running throughout her body. She had showered, washed her hair, and shaved....legs, underarms, and pussy. She actually preferred when Steve shaved her, but today she wanted to be completely ready for him when he arrived for their session. She was naked and waiting in the playroom. She stood in the middle of the room and nervously twisted her leather collar in her hands.
She didn't know how this had happened, how she had become so comfortable with being naked for long periods. She had always been embarrassed by her body, more so as her belly and hips spread
with childbearing and age. Her face, she thought was not bad...not beautiful, but pleasant enough. Her blue-gray eyes were set off by her purple framed glasses. Her hair, light brown and streaked with gray, was longer than she thought proper for a woman her age, but she loved the silky feel of it against her bare back. Her breasts were not especially large, but full and round. As her Master took pleasure in her body, she began to take pleasure in it, too. Nudity, in any room and at any time of day, seemed perfectly natural to her now.
Lisbeth was so on edge that she jumped when the front door opened and closed. She heard his footsteps coming down the hall and by the time Steve appeared in the doorway, Lisbeth was on the floor on all fours, with her collar in her mouth. She met him as he crossed the room, coming to a stop in front of him. Goosebumps covered her body and her breathing was shallow as she stared at his shoes and waited.
Steve leaned down and closed his hand around her upper arm, pulling her to her knees and taking the collar from her. She kept her eyes down and lifted her hair as he silently fastened the collar around her neck. His hand caressed her cheek affectionately for a moment and she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. Then his hand was gone and he moved away from her. He still hadn't spoken, hadn't given her permission to get up, so she stayed where she was, spreading her knees as far apart as she could, back straight, hands on her thighs palms up, eyes on the floor. She heard him moving around her, inspecting her, she supposed.
Without a word, Steve left the room. Lisbeth continued to kneel, listening to his receding footsteps, wondering if she had disappointed or angered him. She heard him moving around in the kitchen, ice clinking in a glass, liquid being poured. Then footsteps again, coming back down the hall. She caught sight of his shoes as he walked past her and heard him settling on the sofa behind her, the tinkle of ice as he sipped his drink.
Though she dared not look at him, she could see him in her mind's eye, the face and body she knew so well. His slightly round, full face and dark blue eyes were framed by his short salt and pepper hair and equally short, and equally salt and pepper, beard and mustache. His beard was kept trimmed so that his dimples showed and Lisbeth loved, on the occasions she was allowed to touch him, to kiss every inch of his face. She loved the feel of him against her lips, his facial muscles twitching with restraint, his breath coming in short, hot puffs against her skin. She equally loved kissing the rest of his body; his broad chest and shoulders, powerful legs, his cock...hard and heavy with desire for her. He was only a few inches taller than she, yet so often she was looking up at him, towering over her as she knelt at his feet or bound to the bed. His hands were large and powerful, yet surprisingly gentle at times; able to administer stinging slaps to her ass or to delicately finger her clit until she begged for release.
Lisbeth's thighs were damp from her leaking juices and beginning to tremble from the strain of being so still. Already her body beginning to throb. It was with relief that she heard Steve stand up and begin moving around the room. She could hear him opening drawers and cupboards, the gentle clank of chains.
"Stand up and come here, pet," he finally said and she complied quickly. "Wrists," he said when she was standing in front of him.
Lisbeth held her arms out and Steve buckled leather wrist cuffs on each one, and then knelt and fastened cuffs to each ankle. With his face in such close proximity to her pussy, she ached to feel the scratch of his whiskers, but he was all business. Standing again, he took her arm and turned her so that he was standing behind her. She shivered slightly at the feel of his warmth along her naked back. Being naked while he remained fully clothed somehow emphasized her shame...and increased her arousal. His hands appeared in front of her holding a soft black cloth. The cloth covered her eyes and he tied it behind her head. Taking her arm he led her several feet before he stopped and turned her, pushing her back until her butt touched the edge of a table. She knew this table quite well, having been bound to it many times.
"Up you go, pet," he told her. "I want you to lie on the table with your ass right there at the edge and your arms over your head."
She placed her hands on the table and lifted herself onto it. Leaving her legs dangling over the side, Lisbeth lay back and put her hands over her head. She felt Steve at the head of the table. He clipped her wrists together and then clipped them to a chain that was attached to the table, tightening it until her arms were pulled almost to the point of discomfort. Next she felt his hands on her thighs, pushing on them to spread her legs. His hands moved to her ankles and she realized he was clipping her ankles to a spreader bar. The clanking of chain and the squeak of a pulley, and her legs began to rise until they were elevated slightly higher than her body.
Again he left her and long, silent, moments passed as she heard him sipping his drink. She could feel his eyes on her and she concentrated on being very still, waiting for whatever he was going to do to her. The position of her legs left her pussy spread open and she felt the air against her wetness. Finally she heard his glass being set down and movement, and then she felt his presence over her just before his mouth closed over hers. Steve kissed her deeply, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Lisbeth kissed him back eagerly; tasting the iced tea he had been drinking, sucking desperately on his tongue as it invaded her mouth. He took his time kissing her and she whimpered softly, wishing her arms were free, wanting to touch him.
His mouth abruptly left hers and she gasped when his hands closed over her breasts. He spent long minutes playing with them, kneading them roughly, brushing his thumbs over her fat, brown nipples, pinching them until she groaned. His mouth on one breast made her wiggle her hips. Licking, kissing, sucking, and then gently biting the nipple before moving on to the other breast. She moaned softly and arched her back, thrusting her breasts to his seeking mouth as he alternated torturing each one until her nipples were hard and erect and aching.
He stopped and left her breasts wet and throbbing. He pinched a nipple and she felt a clamp being positioned and tightened. She bit her bottom lip as another clamp was applied to her other nipple, delicate chains from each pooling between her breasts. Each chain was lifted and clipped to a hook, which she knew hung down from yet more pulleys. The chains slowly rose, lifting her nipples and pulling them taut. Lisbeth lay as still as she could because every movement caused the chains to pull on her already tender and throbbing nipples.
Being still became much more difficult as Steve's hands and mouth explored her body. He licked her breasts around the clamps and the exposed tips of her nipples, softly biting the sensitive underside of her breasts. His fingers trailed over her taut belly and his mouth followed. Then he was kneeling between her legs, licking and biting the insides of her thighs. He licked every inch of her mons, spread her lips apart with his fingers and ran his tongue along her wet folds. Lisbeth moaned and gasped, rocking her hips, trying to thrust her neglected clit into his mouth. Finally he sucked it between his lips and she cried out. Holding her open with one hand, he thrust two fingers into her as he bit and licked and sucked her clit.
"Oh please, Master," Lisbeth pleaded. "I...I can't hold off...please may I cum?"
"No," he growled and she cried out in disappointment as he suddenly withdrew his mouth and his hands.
A clamp was applied to each of her outer labia and something must have been tied to them because she felt them pull her lips open, exposing her very wet and pulsating pussy. The clamps began to vibrate and Lisbeth groaned, taking deep breaths and trying to stave off the orgasm that was so close. Steve leaned down and kissed her.
"Well, pet," he said as his hands roamed over her body, "you make quite the pretty picture, spread open for me like this." She felt the end of a crop lightly running over her skin and she shivered. "You know," he said, running the crop along the folds of her pussy, "this looks like a flower opening. You're beautiful, pet." He moved back to her head and kissed her gently, then whispered in her ear, "Who are you?"
"I am Lisbeth, pet of Master Steve, his to use as
he wishes," she whispered.
She jumped as the crop slapped the underside of her right breast and Steve asked, "What are you?"
"I..I am whatever you wish me to be," she gasped. "I can be your slut, your toy, your whore."
"Who do you belong to?" The crop came down on her left breast.
"I belong to you, Master," she cried. "All that I am and all that I have is y...yours to use as you wish."
"And what will you do for me?" This time the crop landed hard on her exposed clit.
"Ohhh! I will do anything you command. I am yours with nothing held back."
The crop began to fall in rhythmic pattern, moving from her breasts to her thighs, her labia, her clit. At first the blows were soft, but with each circuit they became increasingly hard. Her skin tingled and turned pink, and as the crop picked up intensity, it became reddened and hot. Her body pulsed with need, lubrication dripping down her pussy onto the floor beneath her.
"Please, oh please, Master!" Her moans and cries increased in frequency and volume until she was chanting, "Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease...."
"Please what," Steve demanded harshly, never slowing his pace.
"Pleeeeease! Master, please may I cum?!"
He concentrated the crop on her pussy as he told her, "Yes, slut, cum! Cum for your Master!"
Lisbeth gave a strangled cry as her body shuddered and jerked with her orgasm. Steve dropped the crop and suddenly he was at her head, kissing her. One hand tangled in her hair as the other reached down and unclamped each nipple. Lisbeth screamed into his mouth as the blood rushed into the numb nubs and her orgasm deepened. She thrashed on the table and sobbed as Steve took each nipple in his mouth and licked and soothed them. Lisbeth didn't know how many times she came, or if it was just one long orgasm, she only knew that it seemed to go on forever before her body went limp in her bonds and she sobbed with an emotion she couldn't name.