By the early hours of the morning Daniel and Penny were exhausted. A sweetly intoxicating aroma mingled with perspiration emanating from their entwined bodies. They fell asleep, Daniel’s smile a reflection of Penny’s.
Something soft and exciting was weaving damp patches across her skin.
“I like the soft flesh of a woman,” Daniel murmured, his kisses becoming more urgent now that Penny was awake. “I like your 1997.”
Penny hadn’t given thought to getting back to her own time but now, with Daniel’s reminder, she sailed from the bed, quickly pulling on her clothes.
“I’ll need to find a rainbow to travel home, I guess.” Otherwise how was she to get back? As wonderful as Daniel was, she wanted to go home. Behind closed doors it was great, but outside, 2097 appeared a scary place.
“There is one scheduled at noon today.”
Penny smiled. “You continue to amaze me.”
She rushed for the bathroom and out, then lingered a moment to gaze at this lovely man’s gorgeous face, when he said, “I’m coming with you, Penny.”
Throwing her arms around him, she squealed. “Really? Come on then, but hurry.”
Daniel needed no further bidding. Without thought she had accepted his intention.
Panting from their sprint across town, Penny rested her palms on her shaky knees and inhaled lungfuls of air. When she straightened she voiced the alarming thought that suddenly materialized. “My sister was with me,” she gulped. “But I was the only one transported.”
Daniel’s analytical mind went to work. “Were you touching?”
She shook her head.
Her lover’s lazy smile sent shivers of desire cascading through Penny.
“We will have to interlock. If our bodies are joined, the beam will transport us as one.”
Walking hand in hand to the foot of the rainbow, Daniel smiled. Then he lifted her. Instinctively Penny’s legs encircled his waist, heels digging into his firm buttocks, urging him closer.
Gratified at the hardness of his penis, Penny demanded, “Put your cock inside me. Now!”
Waiting for the spectrum to lift them, with Penny squirming provocatively, her pussy clutching him tightly, Daniel rested his chin on sweet Penny’s hair and murmured, “What a way to travel.”
Whack!
by Ivana Chopski
The room was quiet now apart from the incessant tick, tick, tick of the alarm clock on the bedside table. Brian wanted desperately to turn his head and see how long he’d been lying there; he didn’t though as that wasn’t part of the deal.
He was home from work first today and he’d desperately wanted to hunt through her wardrobe and find out what she was hiding in there before she got in. He knew she was hiding something but if he looked and found it, whatever ‘it’ was, he would spoil the surprise. And the surprise was the most important thing after all. The anticipation, the thrill of the unknown, it turned him on. It turned him on a lot. He was getting hard just thinking about it but he didn’t have time for that now; he needed to be ready before she got home.
He was in the bath when Amanda came home from work just as they planned. She’d come upstairs with a bottle of Chardonnay and two glasses, then sat on the toilet as they shared the wine and chatted about the day. They both behaved as if this wasn’t premeditated, trying to keep a calm exterior while the excitement raged on inside. Amanda toyed with him by slipping down her knickers and having a wee on the toilet and as he pretended not to watch she exaggerated her movements as she wiped herself with a piece of toilet tissue. She could see a bit of movement under the bubbles and smiled to herself, Brian said nothing. He was feeling quite light-headed as he got out of the bath, a combination of the warm water and a half a bottle of wine and he was happy to let Amanda towel him down. He wasn’t as dry as he would have liked but still took her hand as she led him across the hall into the bedroom.
Amanda let go of his hand and he stood naked next to the bed as he watched her puff up the pillows then part them slightly, leaving a small gap between them. She hadn’t changed out of her work clothes and her suit skirt clung tightly to her backside as she bent over the bed, Brian looked at her longingly and his cock started to stiffen. Amanda noticed the rise in blood pressure as she turned round, smiling to herself and as she walked past him ‘accidentally’ brushed her hand along his penis. Brian heard himself gasp then coloured up slightly as if he had betrayed himself, Amanda appeared not to hear. She stopped at the dressing table by the window and opened the third drawer on the right at the same time beckoning Brian onto the bed. His mouth had gone dry.
He lay face down on the bed with his face tucked in between the recently puffed pillows then pointed his arms and legs towards each corner of the bed. He was unable to see that she had taken four large silk scarves out of the drawer but he had known that was what she’d done. Brian heard her pad towards the bed in her stockinged feet then hitch up her skirt so she could straddle his back. His cock started to throb, constrained as it was, squashed against his stomach. It was squashed even further as Amanda sat on the small of his back. She started to move herself slowly up his back, he could feel the soft silk of her panties and through the flimsy material her hot moist pussy, she stopped when she got to his shoulders and took hold of his right arm.
Amanda chose one of the scarves and expertly tied one end around Brian’s wrist and the other to the bedstead. When she was happy with the knots she did the same to his left wrist then turned around moved down to his legs. Amanda repeated the process, attaching a scarf to each ankle then in turn to the footboard; Brian was convinced that he could free himself from the scarves if he wanted to, though he had never tried. Amanda knew he couldn’t.
She got off the bed now and walked out of the room without saying a word and walked downstairs, Brian strained with all his might to hear what she was up to. He could hear nothing and started to relax slightly, all of him that is apart from his raging hard-on. He heard her mount the stairs and he tensed up again, unsure of what to expect – Amanda never did the same thing twice. She walked back into the bedroom with two aromatherapy tea-light candles, one she placed on the bedside table and the other on the wardrobe and lit them both. He could smell the fragrance, one was lavender, he was sure but couldn’t place the other one, he didn’t linger too long on the scent as he turned his mind to what Amanda was up to. He heard her open her wardrobe and he held his breath, was she opening it to take something out or to put her clothes away? He started to breathe again as he heard a hanger rattle and presumed the latter.
Brian was right; Amanda stepped out of her skirt and hung up her suit for another day, rolled down her hold-ups then took off her blouse and bra, all of which she tossed into the laundry basket. She stood at the end of the bed in her tiny thong and looked at Brian. He heard her get on the bed between his legs before he felt her breath on the inside of his calves, the gentle warm breath was moving slowly upwards. Brian’s hard-on was raging again and ready to explode as she took one of his balls in her mouth shortly followed by the other. She managed to alternate between rolling them around her mouth and sucking on them until Brian was about to reach a climax, Amanda anticipated this and to stop him she opened her mouth, letting his balls flop onto the bed as she stood up.
Brian heard her shuffling next to the bed; he couldn’t work out what she was doing – then he felt silky soft material on his back. As she walked up the bed she ran the material up his spine and dropped it on the pillow next to his face as she turned out the light and left the room. He didn’t need to look to know that it was her knickers, inches from his face, because he could smell the sweet musky odour of her sex, he grinned to himself because now he knew she was feeling as horny as he was.
He could hear her starting to run herself a bath; he tried to make himself comfortable as he was sure he was going to be there some time. The ambiance in the room, with the gentle glow of the candles, as well as the half bottle of wine he had recently consumed was helping him to re
lax but he didn’t want to relax too much in case she caught him off-guard. He forced himself to listen to what she was doing in case she was using the noise of the running water to sneak back into the bedroom. He couldn’t hear her at all.
He could feel his knob throbbing again and was not sure why, although it was always like this. Was it the anticipation or the helplessness? he thought to himself, or the fear of the unknown? Maybe it was the pain; sometimes she hurt him, not in a bad way but a good way. How the fuck did that make any sense, how could you be hurt in a good way? It did make sense though; if someone punched him in the face that was a bad hurt but when Amanda squeezed his balls tightly or pinched his nipples that was a good hurt. He wasn’t sure what it was; maybe it was a combination of all four, whatever it was it made him as horny as fuck, and what about Amanda? Where did she get her kicks from all of this? and she definitely did get a kick out of it because it made her fucking rampant. Brian hoped she didn’t get off on hurting him; he was sure she didn’t, he’d never asked her just in case but presumed she loved the whole package like him.
He heard her get into the bath; he felt he could relax for a little while and listened to her bathing. He imagined her lying back in the bath, resting her head on that little pink inflatable pillow he had bought her and splashing the water on her chest. He closed his eyes and could see a droplet of warm water run down from her neck and onto her large pearly white breast; he tracked its path with his finger. The water ran downwards stopping for a moment on her nipple and his finger traced its outline until gravity encouraged the droplet further south and his finger followed. Followed until it reached the neatly trimmed bush that hid the droplet of water from view in a river of hidden treasure.
Brian licked his lips as he thought about running his finger around the outline of her hairy axe wound. She always pulled a face when he called it that, as if she was outraged, but he really knew that was for show and she was smiling on the inside. He was thinking so hard about it he thought he could almost smell it then realized that her panties were still inches from his face and he probably could, this made him chuckle to himself. Scratch and sniff he thought! In his mind his finger was working its way through the hair to find her pussy lips which he gently caressed for a few moments until he forced his way in between and began to massage her clitoris. He could feel it grow and harden to his touch and could imagine it throb like his aching cock. He moved slightly to make himself more comfortable and heard her groan; the noise was for real he realized, not coming from the depths of his imagination. The horny bitch was pleasuring herself in the bath while he was tied to the fucking bed nursing the hard-on of all hard-ons.
How did that make him feel? He wasn’t sure about that either. She must know that he could hear her and was making no attempt to disguise it so it must be all part of her plan and whatever she was trying to achieve, something was definitely affected. If she didn’t get out of that bath soon he was going to fucking explode. He moved his arms slightly to see if he could escape from the bed and the knots seemed to tighten with the slightest movement. Then the moaning stopped and he heard a bit of splashing, the plug pulled from the hole and Amanda getting out of the bath. He was so ready for it now he could feel himself coming out in a cold sweat, his heart was racing, the hairs on his neck stood on end and his cock felt like it was on fire. Still she made him wait.
She dried herself slowly with the large towel she took off the radiator then wrapped it around herself as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and spent a couple of minutes on her hair. Then she went across to the shelf by the window and looked at her collection of perfumes, picked up a couple and put them back before she chose the most suitable one for tonight. Brian smelt the perfume before she entered the room, it was new and he liked it, now it was moving away from him. His body tingled with anticipation as he heard the wardrobe open, this time she was getting something out.
Amanda hid it behind her back, unsure why as his face was burrowed in the pillows, just in case maybe he turned around and spoilt the surprise? She stood by the side of the bed and waited; she wanted to do it now but knew the wait would fuck with his senses. When she was so hot she could wait no more she brought it out from behind her back, raised it above her head then: WHACK!
Office Crush
by Sadie Wolf
I once spent a year in Australia, working nine to five in an office ten minutes’ walk from the famous harbour. At lunchtime I often sat and ate my sandwiches on a bench with views of the bridge and the opera house. Tourists would stop and ask me to take their photographs, and their happiness was infectious. It was like stepping right into a picture postcard, but amazing as it was, it wasn’t the scenery that made the strongest impression on me.
The office I worked in was essentially open-plan, with screens dividing it up into smaller areas where teams of four or so people worked. A handful of more senior staff had offices with proper walls and doors off the main area, but with plenty of glass so that they weren’t particularly private. One of these offices was right by my area, and I had to pass its door, which was invariably open, every time I left or returned to my desk. I felt an initial awkwardness about its inhabitants – Monique, a senior caseworker, and Mathew, the manager of another team. I wondered if I should smile or say hello every time I passed, which would have been ridiculous, or not to bother, which might look standoffish? I needn’t have worried. Monique was almost always ensconced behind her desk in the far corner, busy typing or on the phone; and Mathew … well, he simply failed to acknowledge my existence.
He didn’t immediately strike me as especially good looking. He was mid- to late-thirties with close-cropped hair, and a serious, unfriendly expression permanently on his face. He was one of only two other English people in the office, but if I had expected this to create a bond between us, I would have been wrong. He was from Manchester, and spoke in a flat Mancunian drawl that only served to accentuate his grumpy persona. He’d emigrated fifteen years ago and had never been back. You had to be tough to do that, or it made you tough. I was homesick enough just being away for a year.
He never actually spoke to me, although I often heard him having quite animated conversations with other people, often people I was on quite friendly terms with. Sometimes I would finish a conversation with someone and return to my desk, and a few minutes later hear Mathew talking to that same person in his office. I tried to imagine them acting as some kind of bridge between Mathew and me, making some kind of connection between us. I suppose the fact that he ignored me only made me more interested. I sneaked glances at him when he was sitting at his desk, and was acutely aware of when he was passing my work area. I noticed his face and arms were tanned, and that his body was lean and well-muscled; apparently he did a lot of running.
I started making more effort with my appearance in the mornings. People commented on my hair, my clothes. I found myself increasingly conscious of my body, my movements. When I walked past his office, I was acutely aware of my walk, my steps, like walking in and out of time to a beat I wasn’t familiar with.
I considered myself fortunate to have a desk by a window, and I often found myself gazing out of it, daydreaming. There was a busy junction right outside, and I often winced while observing the frequent near misses involving motorists and pedestrians.
I used to daydream about getting hit by a car just as Mathew was coming back from the coffee shop, and him picking me up and taking me to the hospital, and me lying in his arms looking pale and vulnerable, and a special bond being created between us. Him visiting me at the hospital and us eating grapes and talking, and him realising what an interesting person I am, and me realising he only seems cold because he hasn’t met the right woman yet … Or even if I just got hit by a car and turned up to work with a full leg plaster and crutches. He would definitely look at me then, maybe even comment, and would surely help me up if I fell down in front of him. But would he all of a sudden notice my eyes, my tits? I began to worry about being invisible.<
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In August it was my birthday, and I brought in cakes for the office. After lunch I found myself alone with him in the kitchen. I took a deep breath.
‘There’s some cake over there if you want some.’
‘What’s the occasion?’ He picked up his cup of coffee.
‘It’s my birthday.’
‘Twenty-one again?’ He opened the door. I tried desperately to think of something to say, but by the time I had opened my mouth, he’d shut the door behind him. I stood there alone, hugging my stomach, which was turning over and over, feeling foolish and excited all at the same time.
I had two friends in the office, who I sometimes went out for coffee with and who between them helped me to survive the office. Lucy was sharp, blonde and pretty. She entertained us with boyfriend stories. Sam was English and had a little girl, and was strong and warm-hearted. When we gossiped about people in the office, Mathew’s name would come up periodically. We all agreed that there was something seriously wrong with him, the way he was so anti-social, never talked to us and always looked so moody. And he was lazy, always reading the paper at his desk when he should have been working. Although inevitably one of us would start giggling, and we would grudgingly admit that yes, he was horrible, but he was also – horror of horrors – actually quite fit. Although not that any of us would actually … of course not, no way! According to Lucy he was dating some woman who had wooed him by cooking him fancy Russian dinners. We all agreed that she sounded pretentious and that, in any case, she must be mad, poor woman, to go out with him.
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