by Iona Nixon
"It's just, it's just, well, what we did. It was great ,but..."
"Ben, remember what we were doing. There's nothing to feel guilty about. This was all to give you more experience, to help you understand the feelings – both physical and emotional – that go along with a responsible, sexual relationship."
"But, but, you're married, you're a minister's wife," Ben replied. "I was in you, in your ass..."
"Ben, we're both mature, intelligent adults. Yes, it's exciting to break a taboo...you with a married woman, me with a student. But, Ben, we are also good and now, well, now we are particularly intimate friends. And you have the experience, and if you reflect carefully on what we did today, the knowledge of the emotions and feelings that go along with those actions. That will help you as you help us teach the class."
Ben thought about what he was hearing. He was still not completely sure about what he and Melinda had done, but since she seemed all right with it, he was willing to accept it, even if he didn't totally understand it.
"OK, Melinda. I guess so. It was wonderful. And I do know more now, especially about how easy it is to want to go further than you should, and about how hard it can be to be responsible."
"Good Ben, good" Melinda replied. "Now, let's go get cleaned up." She pulled the condom from his cock and, as they passed the kitchen, she threw it in the trash and reminded herself, mentally, to tie up that bag and take it out to the garbage can before Gerald came home.
They walked out to the shower near the pool. Melissa started the shower and adjusted the temperature, and then stepped under it.
"You wash me, Ben, and then I'll do you," she said, with a little smile.
Ben picked up the bottle of bodywash from the shelf next to the shower and squeezed some into his hands. He stepped next to Melissa and began to rub it over her shoulders and back.
"Mmmhh, that feels nice," Melinda said as Ben's hands moved over her body.
Ben squirted some more of the bodywash into his hands, then rubbed it over Melinda's ass and down her legs.
"Get my ass real good," she told him, "I feel a little sticky back there from the lube and everything."
Melinda pulled her ass cheeks apart. "Get my asshole, I want to be nice and clean."
Ben rubbed his soapy hand over Melinda's tight little hole, and thought a little about how his cock had been buried inside it only a few minutes before. He felt himself start to harden.
"Now my front," Melinda said, turning to face him. She picked up the bottle of bodywash and squirted some over her chest. It ran down between her breasts and in a line to her navel. She took Ben's hands and placed them on her breasts.
"Nice and clean" she said, sighing a little as Ben rubbed his hands over her breasts and then down her stomach.
"My pussy too," she said quietly, pushing one of his hands between her legs.
He stroked her gently, one finger sliding between her lips and over her clit. Melinda shivered, a tiny little orgasm running through her loins.
"Oooh, that was a nice one," she said softly, pulling Ben close to her.
She was soft and warm and wet. Ben felt her full, soft breasts pushed against his chest. His cock twitched. It was the nicest hug he'd ever had.
"Ok, now you," Melinda said a minute later, releasing him from her grasp.
She soaped his back and down over his ass and legs, picking up each foot and rubbing her fingers between his toes. Then she started up his front.
"Ooh, look at you," she said as she reached his cock. It was hard and throbbing again. She slid her hand up the length of Ben's cock. He trembled.
She wrapped her hand around Ben's cock and began to stroke gently up and down its length.
"Oh geez," Ben muttered. After everything they had done, and now Melinda was jerking him off, too?
"I've had three nice orgasms today, Ben," she said. "It's only fair you have at least one more." She stepped close to his side, her right hand slipping up and down his cock, her left caressing his back. "We talked before about masturbating each other. Well, you've done me, so I'll just do you."
He trembled. Her hand was soft and insistent. She rubbed a little faster, concentrating on the head of his cock. Her left hand was caressing his ass. Her body rubbed against his, the soap making everything slippery. Ben sighed and relaxed, his thoughts focused solely on Melinda's hand as it slipped up and down his cock.
"Do you like this?" Melinda asked, tightening her grip and moving her hand a bit faster.
"Oh, yessss," Ben responded. He could feel the semen rising in his body, and knew it wouldn't be long before he came.
Her hand moved insistently, sliding up and down the length of his cock. On every third or fourth stroke she'd just use her index finger and thumb, and rub quickly back and forth over his glans.
"Oh geez, Melinda," Ben moaned. He was close.
"Come for me Ben," she said, stroking him faster and faster. "I want to see you spurt for me." She pulled him tight against her, her breasts pushing into his side.
"Ohhh!, ohhh!!, ohhhhhhhh!!!, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," Ben sighed as he erupted, thick, creamy semen jetting from the tip of his cock and then running down Melinda's hand. She kept rubbing up and down, milking every drop of semen from him.
The stood pressed together, the water streaming down over their bodies. Ben had stopped thinking entirely, he was just enjoying the feeling of Melinda holding his cock in one hand and the other wrapped around his waist.
Finally she looked up at him, staring deeply into his eyes.
"Ben," she said, "This was wonderful. I'm sure you've learned a lot. But I think we'll need to practice some more, just to make sure. Can you come by next Saturday afternoon?"
The End.
The Dancing Concubine
The guards marched me into his bedchamber and left. I stood there, pale but not flinching. All I was wearing was a carelessly revealing purple silk dress, having not been allowed to put on underwear, and my hands were bound tightly behind me. The room I had been brought to was a large, luxurious space, with beautiful furniture and thick rugs on the floor, but all my eyes could look at was the four poster bed and the man sitting on it.
"Come."
I approached the bed of the man who owned me. He was not as old as I had expected, with broad shoulders and his hair only slightly flecked with grey. His eyes flicked up and down my body briefly. I felt my nipples harden, and the sheer fabric of the clothing I had been given to wear betrayed me. I felt that the exotic make-up and perfume I'd been dressed with covered my body more effectively than the dress, which just drew attention to my rich, creamy curves.
He stood up, and walked over so he was right in front of me, and then he grabbed each of my very-visible nipples between his thumb and forefinger.
I gasped "I..."
He looked down coldly at me.
"Yes?" he enquired as he continued to play with my nipples. I looked down and said nothing more. He let go of my left nipple, and ran his finger down my neck.
"You're my plaything now, my slave. You only need to speak when you're spoken to." His eyes were a pale grey, so clear I had to look away. His hand moved again, cupping the whole of my breast through the flimsy fabric. A smile played across his lips. "This is a rather lush body you have. I think I'm going to enjoy using it tonight. Turn around and bend over" he instructed.
Wordlessly I obeyed. As I bent over, my bound hands going over my head, my flimsy dress lifted so that my master had a perfect view of my arse and pussy. He ran his hands up from the backs of my knees to the meat of my arse, and then slipped one hand between my legs. I realised that i was wet. His finger whispered over my clit, and then stopped touching me.
"Can you dance, girl?"
I remained bent over. "If you untie my hands," I replied.
"Will you be good at sucking my cock, girl?" he asked.
"I will do my utmost to please you, master."
"Stand up straight and face me." As I turned around, his hands s
lipped underneath my dress, and ran over my hip bones. He smiled. "I am feeling generous tonight. I'm going to let you suck my cock and if you do it really well I'll untie your hands, and you can dance for me. His hands reached round and grasped my buttocks. He was so close I could feel his chest against my stiff nipples.
"And if your dancing pleases me, I'll throw you onto my bed and fuck you senseless."
My mouth fell open. He let go of me and sat down on the rich maroon bedspread, leaning back on his arms and opening his legs.
"Come and kneel at your master's feet."
I walked clumsily over, finding it hard to balance whilst my hands were tied, and knelt down between his legs. He looked down, having such a perfect view of my breasts that I might as well have been naked. I looked up, and as I caught his eye for a split second he almost smiled. Then he undid his dressing robe, so that his cock was before me. I bent forward, and took one long lick from the base to the tip.
"Mmmm," I heard him respond approvingly. I took the tip in my mouth and ran my tongue over it. I felt his cock harden further, and I started to suck on it, taking more and more of it into my mouth as its pungent scent filled my nose, surprisingly myself with my enthusiasm and intent. It was now as hard as rock, jutting forward from his hips, and pointing sharply upwards. I wanted to grasp its hairy base with my hands, but all I could do was suck on as much as I could fit in my mouth, building my rhythm to his barely conscious movements.
Suddenly, I felt my hair being pulled back, and I reluctantly let his cock out of my mouth.
"Very good," My master drawled. "Let's give you your reward." He turned to one corner of the room. "Simon."
A guard stepped forward. A heavy blush crept up my neck and cheeks. A guard had been watching? The entire time? My master noticed and smiled at my discomfort. "I always have a guard in my rooms. You'll just get used to it -- if I decide to keep you."
The guard drew his sword. His hands brushed over my arse as he cut through my ties, and then he stepped back into the corner of the room. I looked up. "May I dance for you, master?"
"Yes. Tempt me to fuck you." His cock was still hard, and very visible, and I could not keep myself from flicking my eyes back to it. Background music suddenly started -- I could not tell where it came from, a mixture of some hand drums and an instrument that I did not recognise. Suddenly I felt more confident -- dancing was what I knew, and what I had always loved. I stretched up with my hands over my head, so that my breasts perked up. I wound my hips around to the music, proud of their fluid, provocative movement. I swept my arms round in the proud arcs that I knew, and as the rhythm changed, I switched to shaking my breasts. The silky slip bounded up and down as my body moved, revealing my pussy or arse for a split second each time. Then I bowed low, so that he could see right down to my round breasts. Standing back again, I spun with the music, gradually lifting the hem of my dress until the whole thing came over my head. Then I held it teasingly in front of my breasts and pussy, hiding myself from his eyes.
My master beckoned regally with his hand. "Come here, and dip your tits in my mouth."
I walked up to him, and bent over slowly. He grabbed the silk slip from me, and hurled it into the corner of the room, so that I was completely naked. His lips grabbed hungrily at my right breast and sucked hard. I couldn't stop myself from shuddering. I did not know how I could be enjoying this, but neither could I deny it. That afternoon as the servants had been washing and preparing my body, I had been dreading the idea that this man would take me, and now I was craving it. I bent over further, arching my back to give him better access to my breasts, and to my relief he grasped my left breast in one of his hands, squeezing the nipple so that an ache shivered through to my wrists. Then he grabbed my arse, and twisted, and before I knew it I was lying on my back on the bed, my legs forced apart by his knees. I could feel his hard cock against my thigh, its hairy base tickling my delicate skin, and his hands holding my shoulders down so I could not move. He bent his head down, this time nibbling at my left breast, and I arched my body out to meet him. My right nipple, still wet with his saliva, felt cold and abandoned by contrast.
Then he released my breast, buried his hands in my hair so that I could not move my head, and looked me in the eye. I was so turned on I could barely focus, and my lips were so dry I couldn't speak. There was something so powerful and knowing in his gaze.
"Do you think I can get any more pleasure from your body?" he enquired.
A groan escaped my lips, and without thinking I ground my hips up against his body, leaving a line of my wetness on his skin.
"Ah, but that is about your pleasure. And you only exist now to give me pleasure. Do you think I would get any pleasure from sticking my cock inside you?"
I desperately licked my lips. "Oh my master!" I begged, "My pussy will squeeze you so tight - I will give you all the pleasure in the world. Please try me, so you can choose whether or not to keep me."
My master stared into my eyes again, and there was a low growl in his throat. Without breaking eye contact, he moved one of his hands down, and ran his fingers down my clit and into my pussy. I felt him push his fingers inside, feeling how hot and wet I was, and I tried to spread my legs even further apart, aching for more. Then he pulled his finger out of me, and just as I raised my hips up, trying to keep a hold on his hand for longer, he drove his cock deep inside me. His heat and tense, heavy muscles covered the length of me, and as he bit down on my shoulder I knew my master was enjoying my body deeply. I heard myself make unintelligible noises as I wrapped my pussy and my limbs around his existence, squeezing and screaming myself into a ball of pleasure that exploded.
When my master had finished with me, a delicious ache filled my insides. I sat up, and completed my duties by slowly licking his soft cock clean. Then I lay back on the bed, happy to lie by his side until he dismissed me.
The End.
Ladies That Lunch
Chapter 1.
Simon's wife had always admired the ladies at their local tennis club. They were all of a certain age, and when they got together socially there was a quiet serenity in their companionship. Beautifully dressed, without exception, they met every Tuesday and Saturday for lunch in the Pavilion restaurant for a long, lazy lunch full of chatter and laughter.
Simon would watch Louise's eyes wander across the room, her chin resting on her hands, gazing with such admiration at this small, perfectly manicured cohort of ladies that lunch. By comparison, Louise looked positively scruffy, all lycra and trainers, sipping a skinny latte in the corner, still glowing from their exertion on court.
Simon had to admit that they were quite elegant, and often admired them for the sheer effort it must have taken to prepare themselves collectively for their bi-weekly rendezvous. Polished nails, sheer expensive stockings, slim pointed heels and wonderfully tailored skirts, jackets and dresses in classic colours cut with expensive cloth.
The odd thing is that you never saw them with their husbands or boyfriends, but somehow it was quite obvious that they had men in their lives. There were clues, some obvious, others more subtle. Huge diamond wedding and eternity rings sparking across the room, fat shiny cars in the car park and that general air of married affluence.
It was easy to assume that their husbands were scattered across the County lining their pockets in law, medicine, stock broking and underwriting. These were, Simon thought, the quintessentially English 'ladies that lunch', and they had the wardrobes to prove it.
Simon looked up from his latte, wiping the foam from his top lip. Louise had moved her hands from her chin, cradling her coffee cup for warmth. Her eyes were still on the ladies. One of them, with neat straight blonde haircut just above her shoulders caught her eye and smiled. Her red lips burst open into an open happy smile, lighting the room with her perfectly white teeth, and open warm expression.
Louise blushed, managed a small, nervous half smile and quickly turned away. A moment later she looked back to see this gorgeous woman st
ill looking at her, still smiling. Louise composed herself, and this time smiled back without looking away. The woman gave her an acknowledging nod, just enough to signal her approval, and then turned back to her friends. Louise looked at her husband, but somehow, something had changed. Louse felt stronger, happier and more alive than she could ever remember. It was as if this stranger had given her a gift, just by acknowledging her presence.
Simon lent back, finished his coffee and stood up to leave.
"I haven't finished Simon. Sit down!" Louise surprised herself. Normally she would just stand up, take a rushed last gulp and dutifully follow Simon to the car, picking up her bag and tennis racquets. But this wasn't going to happen today. Today Simon was going to be a little bit more considerate.
Simon slowly sat back down, almost amused at the sheer ferocity of his wife's outburst.
"Yes, of course dear. Take your time."
Louise intended to. Twenty minutes later, placing her cup down she dabbed her lips with a napkin and looked up.
"Now I am ready Simon. Shall we go?"
Simon marched towards the door past the ladies and breezed out into the car park.
Louise once again made eye contact with the blonde lady as she passed their table.
"Hello there. Did you win?" Her voice was soft and clear.
"Urm, actually not. My husband is a bit too competitive to give me an easy game," Louise replied, slightly startled by being spoken to by one of these lunching ladies.
"Ahh. Sounds to me like he needs taking in hand."
"Indeed, but he is after all only a man." Once again Louise surprised herself. This woman appeared to give her the confidence to assert herself, and even criticize her husband. She thought to herself once again. "What is happening to me?'
"Do you play tennis too?" Louise enquired.
"Very badly, I am afraid. I use the club mainly to meet up with the girls." With this she gestured to the happily chatting ladies, who looked up and smiled at Louise.