Edge of Extasy: X is for Xanthe Part One

by Issa Cherry

  Edge of Extasy

  X is for Xanthe Part 1

  By Issa Cherry

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright © 2013 by Issa Cherry

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 978-0-9924070-0-1

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Cover design by Melody Simmons of eBookindiecovers

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales are purely coincidental.

  Adult Reading Material

  Disclaimer: The material in this book is for mature audiences only and contains graphic sexual content. It is intended for those 18 and older.

  Smashwords License

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Edge of Extasy

  What Xanthe Did Next

  A Very Big Mistake

  About the author Issa Cherry

  Edge of Extasy

  ‘This lace feels so soft!’

  The flimsy white fabric of my bodice gently constricted against my breasts.

  ‘But I love the touch of leather too!’

  I moaned at the feel of the strap between my thighs. It was hard and unforgiving.

  Standing with my legs apart with one arm in front of my body and the other behind. My hands clench each end of the leather belt threaded between my legs. Swaying my arms back and forth with increasing speed roughly against my moist slit, I am almost there.

  ‘I am coming!’

  With two more rubs of the belt I orgasm. The release is merciful and over all too quickly. My last cries of pleasure echo around the stone of the cellar walls. Collapsing back onto the cold reality of satin pillows, I lay for a moment, trailing my fingers seductively across my lips. Little is left of the deep red lipstick that I had applied so carefully earlier.

  ‘That’s all for tonight!’

  The announcement is delivered in the lustiest tones I can muster, before climbing down from the stone bench that serves as my makeshift stage. Within three paces I reach the computer and shut down the Webcam.

  My name is Xanthe. I have a sexual secret: I have never been able to climax with a man.

  Believe me, I have tried. I even slept with a few women just to make sure it wasn’t a case that I needed to release my inner-lesbian. All that told me was that it was men I hungered for: testosterone laden, Adam’s apple bearing, cock-thrusting males. I want them. I hunger for them. I desire them. Yet the moment they touch me, I turn cold. No man has ever managed to light that fire from within me. Every sexual encounter with a male has left me frustrated.

  Around a year ago after my last awkward sexual encounter, I decided to find other ways to satisfy my urges. My live Webcam show evolved from my desire to avoid awkward gropes in the dark with men who cannot stoke my amour.

  Using my talents from my day job as a librarian, I began researching sexual fantasies and wondered if turning on anonymous men, ones who had not been a disappointment sexually, might be the key. I decided to give it one try. Setting up a secure Webpage that could not be traced back to me, I joined some adult Websites and streamed my first broadcast live. I was a bit nervous at first, reciting some of my most favourite sensual lines from English literature while I masturbated using various sex toys. It was a very amateur effort, but it did the trick.

  ‘You’re really hot!’ The private messages started arriving minutes after I finished my first broadcast.

  ‘I jacked off watching you!’ This meant success to me! I had managed to get my rocks off and made a few males happy at the same time. I was hooked.

  ‘When’s your next show?’ they asked.

  Very soon I was making three broadcasts a week. I would work late, wait for the library to close and for my staff to go home. Then I would grab my laptop and head back to the original nineteenth century part of the building. The area was off limits to students and staff alike. As chief librarian I hold a master key to the area below. Downstairs is a hidden oasis forgotten by everyone: including campus security. Unlocking the door at the end of a narrow vestibule, I escaped into my secret world. Descending the stone stairs to the large cellar space, familiar tingles would begin to grow. My excitement far exceeded the anticipation I once felt before a physical rendezvous with a man.

  From deep within the crevices of the Victorian gothic architecture of the college’s library building I would drag out the rest of my private show time ‘kit’ of assorted satin pillows and cushions, lingerie, and scarves. I used a set of small portable theatre lights to illuminate my small performance stage. Oh yes, and various phallus substitutes to make the show extra exciting!

  I chose the setting because it was just perfect: at night it looked like it could be the dungeon of a real English castle, where I liked to imagine the resident Lord held me captive with one purpose in mind: to ravage me endlessly. Good and hard!

  Alas, I was left with the less mysterious location of a liberal arts college on the northeast coast of the United States. I did my very best to make up for a distinct lack of tall dark strangers with a lusty glint in their eye.

  The thrill of using a public building for my own secret sensuous purposes also raised my excitement levels. I had covered my tracks well so, my privacy was not at risk. Despite using advanced computer security, the thought of the College Board finding out gave me even more excitement. Maybe one of them had even gotten hard over the sight of me deep throating a long cucumber? I would try not to smile over the memory of that secret thought each time I attended senior staff meetings with Board members present.

  To make doubly sure my anonymity was assured, I removed my glasses, let my long chestnut hair loose from my trademarked chignon and applied heavy makeup. Combined with the use of low lighting, I made sure my audience only saw what they needed to see!

  Just when my imagination grew tired, I would find new ways to keep my Web shows exciting. Recently that excitement came in the form of Dr Damon, a new academic on campus. Tall, dark and as distracted as all hell: he helped fuel my fantasies with a vitality not experienced recently. I just had to remember to never shout out ‘Oh Doctor!’ as I came, thanks to vivid thoughts of caressing his hard cock with my tongue before being fucked at his leisure.

  Shivering slightly at the thought of him, I suspected new the doctor was going to be good for several months’ worth of live broadcasts at least! I shivered again and realised it was the cold of the cellar hitting my body as it cooled down after the excitement of my latest show. Using this underground location as my performance space had its drawbacks: the cold was one of them. I started to dress quickly. Slipping my lace panties back on over my stockinged legs I thought I heard a noise.

  ‘That better not be a mouse scampering about back there!’ I said out loud as if to ward off the chances of rodent invasion.

  The risk of encountering one of the stray mice that occupied the many crevices of these old walls was about the only danger I had feared in my efforts. My intrepid efforts to take my sexual pleasure to a whole new le
vel of satisfaction were not without its risks.

  Ignoring my fear of mice the best I could, I went about my usual post-Webcast ritual of tidying up. Gathering up my collection of assorted props that were invariably strewn about while I lost myself in my broadcasted search for the ultimate sexual gratification.

  A minute later there was another sound. It came from the same direction of the earlier noise, but clearly had a heavier foot fall than any furry rodent.

  ‘Who’s there? Is somebody there?’ I demanded out loud as my heart raced.

  The thought someone had been lurking back in the dark recesses of this large cellar watching me all this time, both terrifying and delicious at the same time.

  Immediately conscious of my near half nakedness, I raised my forearms across my breasts, which were clearly visible through the flimsy lace of my bodice.

  ‘Suddenly coy are we, Xanthe?’ A deep voice spoke from the shadows towards the south corner of the cellar.

  ‘Wh-who gave you permission to be here?’ I stuttered as suddenly I could see the silhouette of a tall male figure emerging out of the darkness.

  ‘I should be asking you the same question, Xanthe.’

  He spoke as he shone a bright beam from a flashlight directly into my face. Lifting my hands instinctively up to shield my eyes, my breasts fell free behind their lacy veil. ‘That’s better!’ he drawled.

  ‘What do you want? Why are you here?’

  My mind raced. Was I about to be outed by campus security? Maybe I was about to be murdered on the spot by an axe-yielding maniac? Nothing good could come of this, I was certain.

  ‘I am not going to hurt you, if that is what you are worried about, Xanthe?’

  He spoke as he moved another couple of paces before continuing:

  ‘Not unless you want me to, Xanthe.’

  The way he spoke, the way he said my name was restrained but authoritative.

  ‘Now turn around and face the bench’ he ordered. Something in his voice told me I should comply.

  Standing with my back to him, he came closer. So close that I could feel his breath to the side of my face as I attempted to turn my head to look in his direction.

  ‘Do not turn around, Xanthe’ he whispered only inches from my left ear. A potent mix of fear and anticipation spread through my body.

  ‘Look, whatever it is you are going to do, can you just get it over and done with?’ I attempted to bluff.

  ‘What? Spoil all the fun by rushing, Xanthe? No wonder you are left with trying to fulfil your own desires.’

  He was so close that a quick elbow to his stomach would surely wind him and give me my chance to escape, but I seemed to have become frozen to the spot.

  ‘What is it you want?’ my head was spinning while my body threatened to betray me by wanting the touch of this stranger.

  ‘This is not about what I want, Xanthe. Now put your hands on the bench and stand with your feet shoulder width apart.’

  Why should I take orders from a stranger? My reasoning had gone out the window and been replaced with a budding sense of wantonness.

  ‘Good girl’ he drawled as I complied with his orders. ‘Tell me: do you want me to touch you Xanthe?’

  ‘Yes!’ I rasped.

  ‘I will touch you. If you attempt to turn around I will end this immediately. Do you understand, Xanthe?’

  ‘Yes. I understand.’

  His use of my name had me mesmerized.

  I heard sounds. The change of direction from the beam of light told me he had put down the flashlight. I heard the sound of him removing clothing. In the coldness of the cellar, my partially naked back suddenly felt the warmth of a firm male torso pressing into it.

  ‘You must trust me Xanthe.’

  Muscled arms appeared at my front, wrapping around me firmly. His hands felt their way slowly around my waist before withdrawing. I was pinned between the heavy stone bench and the rock solid feel of his body. Denim jeans touched against my buttocks keeping me from the promise of what lay within their confines.

  ‘Do you trust me, Xanthe?’

  ‘Yes!’ my response leapt without hesitation from my mouth as those hands reappeared holding what I instantly recognised to be one of my own satin scarves.

  ‘I can’t help but notice you like satin,’ he said as he held the scarf tautly across my body and dragged it roughly up the length of my torso. He then yanked it over my breasts causing them to be lifted skyward before dropping with a bounce afterwards. My nipples stood erect as a result of having the material flicked over them.

  I felt goose bumps trailing in the wake of satin as the scarf continued over my décolleté and collarbone.

  ‘Satin seems to heighten your pleasure, Xanthe.’

  The scarf tightened around my neck briefly before tracing its way past my jaw and chin. Then it moved over my nose before finally resting over my eyes.

  ‘So you won’t be tempted to peak, Xanthe’

  He deftly tied the scarf as a blindfold over my eyes.

  For what seemed like an eternity he made no sound and no discernable movement. I ached from within, waiting and hoping he was about to have his wicked way with me. Eventually, I felt firm fingers grasping both of my ankles. Then the movement upward began, with fingertips blazing a path simultaneously along the inside of my calves. The slow movement of his hands showed no respect for my body’s impatience.

  Reaching higher, he paused to caress my knees. His fingers stayed still whilst his thumbs traced back and forth along the crease denoting the divide between my lower and upper legs. Never had a man’s touch felt so exhilarating on these non-erogenous areas of my body.

  As if he could sense my mind willing him to continue their journey towards my more sensitive regions, his hands started to move along my upper legs. With his fingers pointing sideways over my skin in an outward direction, his thumbs were firmly enclosing my inner thighs. My senses began to tingle with suggestive glee as his approach came closer to my wetness.

  Halting momentarily while he stood, I waited impatiently for his touch. Once again I could feel the warmth emanating from his torso as it drew nearer. I held my breath while I waited for him to reveal whatever he had planned for me.

  ‘Xanthe: reserved librarian by day, luscious vixen by night!’

  I exhaled. As that breath left me, his hands reached the top of my legs and encountered the crotch of my panties. He traced the lace around to their high-cut thigh bands and deftly hooked his fingers into each side. In one fluid movement he had dragged the panties down to my still spread feet.

  ‘I hope the rest of the College Board doesn’t know what you get up to after hours, Xanthe.’ he drawled.

  ‘Lift!’ He indicated he wanted me to take my leg out of the panties as he manoeuvred them towards my left foot. After freeing my right leg from my tiny pair of naughty underwear, he stood again.

  ‘These are very damp, Xanthe.’ He took what sounded like a deep sniff ‘They smell divine!’

  ‘I – I’ words stuck in my throat. My mouth was completely dry.

  ‘You’re not usually short of words, Xanthe’ he started to rub what felt like the lace of my panties across my cheek ‘I have something else in my mind for your mouth. No talking necessary.’

  With that, he shoved my panties in my mouth.

  ‘Taste your own juices. Discover what you are capable of, Xanthe.’

  Placed firmly in my mouth, there was enough room left to mean I had no risk of gagging. Once again I felt satin on my skin and knew another of my scarves had been brought into play.

  ‘This will ensure you get to enjoy your own very special flavour a little longer’ he spoke in a sardonic tone as the scarf pulled tight between my teeth and tied around the back of my head as a gag.

  ‘Do you want me to have my way with you, Xanthe?’

  I attempted to shout ‘Yes!’ but it turned into a muffled grunt. So instead I nodded my head rapidly. I wanted to shout: ‘Please do me! Now! Any way you want to!’r />
  Suddenly those familiar hands were clasping my buttocks. ‘You have a gorgeous ass, Xanthe!’ His fingers kneaded the firm roundness of each cheek. Clenching them together and then stretching them apart.

  I thought of breaking from his grip and turning to face him so I could retaliate, but feared he might stop. Then it occurred to me that the fear of him stopping this sensuous play far outweighed the fear of whatever he intended to do to me.

  All of my senses told me I wanted him to have me. All of my reactions surely were telling him that I wanted him. His slow and deliberate actions made every touch exquisite.

  I wanted – no I needed to respond and show him what I could do.

  ‘Is your ass mine, Xanthe?’

  I nodded again.

  ‘Bend over further and show me how much you want me to have your ass!’

  I moved back slightly away from the bench, bridging the short distance that he had allowed between our bodies. I opened my legs a little wider and tilted my butt at an angle to allow clear access and waited. One hand commenced rubbing in a circular motion taking in both cheeks, going faster and faster. Every few rounds a finger would catch on the tightness of my exposed ass mound. The rubbing motion grew faster and harder until suddenly they stopped abruptly. The pause seemed to last forever. Then a loud slap from and open hand landed across my butt cheeks, vibrating briefly as the sound echoed around the cellar.

  ‘Does it seem like I am teasing you, Xanthe?’

  I nodded as his hand began its circular motion once more. Slowly, the direction of his hand as it rubbed my still tingling backside went lower, until he pointed his fingers forward and pressed them into the valley between my cheeks.

  As I let out a muffled moan, I heard his breathing become jagged. ‘Ahh! So you do respond to the touch of a man, Xanthe?’