“I’m glad you take things so slowly,” she said. Evelyn watched a hawk swoop down after a smaller bird and was relieved to see it escape the hawk’s talons and flee.
“It’s really you, Evelyn. Your curiosity is our guide.”
She thought about that.
“I am very curious,” she said. “You know that. And I have been thinking way too much about what you told me.”
“Do you think you are ready to try more?” he asked her.
“I don’t think I am, not just yet,” she said, linking her arms with his. “But I think I might like to watch.”
Evelyn Shuddered Again
Lying on her belly on a blanket in the shade, the sun having proven much too warm. She lay with her legs just parted, that he might reach his hand between them and take her so, from behind. He put his fingers inside her this time, and the sun upon the leaves cast them in green shadows, as Evelyn panted and thrust weakly at the blanket, her river- and cunt-wet panties bunched up shamelessly between her buttocks. Slowly she quit her thrusting, and rested.
“Have I ever told you of my friend Anne?” he asked, stretched out on his side before her, leaning on his elbow. She shook her head. She had never heard of Anne before.
“She is a woman like that.”
“She likes you to use her?” Evelyn asked.
He nodded his head slowly.
“What is she like?”
“Physically,” he said, “because it’s easier, she is a very tall woman—six feet even—very Norwegian looking, proportional. She has long, light brown hair that is very thick—it almost looks like it would feel rough, but it doesn’t. I find her to be quite an attractive woman, and I think you would too. And a very interesting woman, as well.”
“But why?” asked Evelyn.
“Because, at the most basic level, submission brings her immense erotic pleasure. She is rendered helpless, sometimes physically, sometimes not—and she likes that. Her body becomes simply a vehicle for another’s pleasure. Generally, mine.” He studied Evelyn closely. She lay on her side with her head down on the blanket. Her eyes were closed, and she might have been asleep, were it not for the slow, barely perceptible movements of her fingers, just grazing her labia.
“Nothing’s her fault if she can’t move,” said Evelyn softly. “So she really isn’t that dirty, is she?”
“Oh, she most certainly is,” he replied. “Beautifully so. She wants to be made vulnerable like that, dear. Her cunt gets wet when she imagines herself bared before others, so that her most intimate places are on display. Her ego disappears, and she becomes an object—and it is made all the better for Anne because she can do nothing more about it, once she enters into that context.”
“Wow,” said Evelyn. “May I watch you with her sometime?”
Am I a Dirty Girl Too?
Evelyn wondered. Or maybe even a “ho”? Jesus that’s a dumb word. A dirty girl, yes. She could live with that, and it rather pleased her to think of herself that way. It was even sort of fun with Richard—surprising him and bringing him unexpected pleasure, however long it might last. Which was not particularly long at all. Poor Richard. She had bent over naked, straight from the shower, little rivulets of water still glistening upon her skin, bent so that he could see her, and what did he say?
“Evelyn, please. I can see your asshole.”
Well, Richard. That was the point. And that was another reason her conscience did not bother her terribly. She rather thought Richard had come to lack the imagination necessary for venturing further afield. He could have if he wanted to—he was gone the better part of two weeks each month. It wouldn’t be so bad if he did. There had not been enough of anything for a long time.
Evelyn stood in the bathroom before the big mirror, wearing only a small pair of lacy panties—string bikinis that barely covered her bottom. She slipped the soft fabric between her cheeks and smoothed it.
She liked the look, the fabric disappearing between her buttocks, tight against her. Evelyn had a nice ass, and she had never worn a thong.
Anne Thinks the Idea Is Intriguing
He said to her one morning over the phone. This scared Evelyn. Why was she never careful what she fucking wished for? She took a great breath.
“She does?” was all Evelyn could manage in response.
“I told her about you—honestly and completely. She knows of your life and what we have shared. And she very much appreciates your curiosity and your hesitation, as well. She would like you to watch.”
She was shaken, and her panties were wet at the thought. Will I have to touch her?
“Anne does have some things that are stipulations, of a sort.”
“For watching?” Evelyn asked, in a soft voice.
“Yes,” he said. “You will be in your panties when she arrives, and you will be blindfolded for a bit.”
Evelyn felt a bit light-headed.
“Until Anne is ready, and then she will be blindfolded as well. Then yours will be taken off.”
“So that we aren’t able to make eye contact.” Evelyn thought that was a wonderful idea. She wasn’t sure she would be able to meet this woman’s eyes.
“Darling,” she said slowly, “will she be hungry for me?” He laughed gently from the other end of the line.
“Anyone in their right mind will see you and be hungry, love.” He let that thought trail off while Evelyn digested all this.
“What will you do?” she asked him.
“Whatever I please, Evelyn.”
Richard Was in the Mood to Fuck
And Evelyn felt his hands upon her bottom, reaching around to stroke her pubic hair, his stiff cock brushing insistently against the backs of her thighs. It wasn’t quite the same as her lover, but she enjoyed her husband’s urgency as well. Richard was a little easier to take care of than that other man, or devil. Whatever he was. She took hold of Richard and turned round to kiss him fully. Richard, my husband, she thought, placing his hand upon her cunt, tonight you shall make me come. . . .
Evelyn knew how to work her man after so many years, and she held him off, making him touch her, placing her hand over his so that he touched as she pleased. Only when she was ready, when the great and wondrous abyss opened before her in all its promise of mindclouding envelopment, did she roll over onto her knees and bare herself for her husband, allowing him to mount her. Look at my asshole, Richard. It is beautiful, she willed. And before Richard slipped his hasty cock into her, he felt the need to gently part his wife’s buttocks and marvel at the beauty of her open cunt. Such a wonder it is, he thought. Pity her asshole’s so close by.
Evelyn gladly let her husband use her, taking her by the hips and filling her, his belly slapping loosely against her bottom, and the shouts of her pleasure brought him quickly to release. He slid out of her as she slumped forward, his cock shrinking and sticky against her flank. A serviceable lover, Richard. From whatever soft and slightly muddled place she had landed, Evelyn could only think of that moment when her blindfold would be removed.
I Am Ready to Watch You
She told him. Evelyn liked wearing nothing but her panties when she was with him. She liked that her arousal was so evident to him. And she wanted this Anne to see her like that as well. Evelyn was done imagining and touching herself.
She told him about making Richard fuck her more often, and he liked that.
“But rather a cruel way to put it?”
“Perhaps,” said Evelyn. There was no way Evelyn could ever tell him of Richard’s asshole comment. For some perverse reason, that made her blush. Not for herself, but for Richard. “But it’s just realistic. I have to be myself in spite of and around another person. Richard’s not even aware that I’m asking questions. Much less the kinds of questions I’m asking.” Evelyn hardly knew herself what kind of questions these were.
“Goddamn Richard didn’t want to see my asshole!” she burst out with an exaggerated pout. “And at this point in the game, that just feels rather insul
ting!”
He laughed and took hold of her arms, spinning her about that he might bend her forward and look at her bottom.
“If Richard won’t look,” he laughed, slipping her panties over her round and struggling buttocks, “I certainly will.”
Evelyn Was Dressed in Linen
Light green pants that hung low on her hips and showed well the roundness and firmness of her bottom. A small top, and a jacket of linen that matched her pants. She looked beautiful and she knew that. And he would take these things off her and leave her in her panties, to wait blindfolded. Evelyn was certain her arousal had dampened the crotch of the light linen pants.
She drove back from the highway, down the short and winding road to the river, where the air carried the scent of pine so heavily on these afternoons of long sun. The little road rose and fell and wound through the trees, finally depositing her in his front yard. From his back windows it seemed you could touch the river. She parked her car between great beds of blooming irises, the tall, bearded ones in all the colors he found pleasing.
Evelyn Stood upon Thick Cedar Planking
A pier he had built, that indeed hung nearly over the water, this rolling stretch between high banks, where the river gathered itself into rapids. Evelyn looked down through the pines to where the current began to tumble, and he undressed her—carefully taking her jacket from her, and her top. Pulling loose the drawstring that let her pants ride low upon her hips.
“You’ve worn a thong, Evelyn,” he said, stepping back from her to fully appreciate the sight.
“I might as well show it off,” she said. “It is a lovely ass, after all.”
He smiled at her and brought her to him, touching her between her legs, on the damp triangle of beige silk that barely covered her cunt. A lovely ass, indeed. Thin silk disappearing between lovely pale buttocks. Absolutely charming. They listened to the river and watched the trees bend gently in the light breeze, waiting for Anne. He in that seemingly eternal summertime uniform of his—the old khaki shorts and moccasins, some kind of shirt, or not.
They talked freely and laughed. Even about Poor Richard. He joked that Richard had a very bad case of the bung fear. He leaned over her, pleased with himself, and ran his wide hands over her sunbrowned ribs and breasts. The asshole thing still had her miffed.
The Shadows of the Pines
Lengthened and cast themselves in dark beams over the dance of the current below them. It promised to be a cool evening, and he had lit a fire in the Franklin stove that sat in the far corner of the cabin’s great room.
The setting sun left her goose-pimpled and chilled, so she curled against him upon the long couch before the wide window looking over the water. He pulled her closer to him, and she shivered, so nearly naked. She felt the heat from the stove radiate out into the room, touching her bared flesh. If she kept herself within that immediate moment, she was fine—a creature of her cunt and the myriad other senses she possessed. But her stomach jumped when she got ahead of herself and thought, My god, he’ ll be taking me up those stairs soon and covering my eyes. They would wait for Anne—she would wait for Anne—in the loft above. Evelyn had never asked to see that room before. His bedroom.
Evelyn Nearly Naked
Took his hand and followed him to the stairway. He insisted she go first. The light silk of her negligible panties pulled tight against her full and swollen labia as Evelyn willed one foot after the other to ascend the stairs with him behind her. She knew he was looking at the thin band lying atop her asshole.
Evelyn paused at the head of the stairs to take in the loft of his cabin. Wide pine planks were the ceiling. Log rafters crossed the width at regular intervals, and a great long trunk of pine went from end to end of the cabin—peeled and varnished long ago, with a patina upon it built up of long stories and loud laughter, wood smoke, music, and the complementary moans and murmurs of the passionate.
Also along these beams of pine she saw hempen rope, passed around the beam several times and secured with half-hitches—all quite nautical, save the chains that hung dependent, with interesting-looking pieces of hardware attached to them. She realized that each of these was a separate point of restraint, and that every one represented the possibility of a different combination of vulnerabilities. Christ.
His bed was to the far end from the stairs, broad and wide, set back where the roof-line swept low. An old wicker ottoman, darkened with age and topped in cracked and worn brown leather, sat before the bed—for her? It was a simple room. And so fucking naughty.
He had her kneel upon the ottoman, facing the bed. He showed her how to hold her bottom out, an invitation. How to arch her back nicely, so that her small and firm breasts were thrown forward prominently. Another offering.
“Just relax for now,” he told her; a different note had come into his voice—firm and stern, where there had been such a gentle strength before. “Anne will expect to see you like that, Evelyn. She will expect that of me. So when you hear her enter, make all of yourself an offering.” She lowered her bottom onto her heels and breathed out deeply. Evelyn knew exactly what he meant.
How Long She Had Knelt There
On the ottoman, her eyes covered, Evelyn could not tell anymore. He had looked at the clock, which read twenty before the hour, and he had put the blindfold over her eyes. Then left her alone. Twenty minutes, fifty minutes? Evelyn smelled, and heard, and felt. Time floated off and did not mean much.
She heard the crunch of gravel beneath a car’s tires—the sound reminded her of a song by Lucinda Williams, a song full of pent up emotion and desire. The sound made her raise her bottom, and she wanted to see him take this woman, Anne, more than anything—save maybe feeling him take her.
Evelyn strained to hear their voices—her voice, really—but they were looking over the water, and all that came to her were the soft, indistinct tones of their distant conversation. She felt a calmness she might have considered odd even yesterday. She wondered if Anne stood before him with her eyes lowered. Or maybe she was on her knees.
Soft laughter accompanying their footsteps, punctuated by a small moan. Clothes dropping lightly to the floor, and other little sounds. Another moan and a surprised yip, as if something had taken Anne painfully and quickly unawares. Evelyn, so erect on the ottoman—perched there, quivering—felt her own body jump.
She heard wet sounds—a little gag—and more soft moaning, an eager edge to it now. Evelyn heard labored breathing. Then she heard, “Enough. You’ll make me come with that, slut. And I want Evelyn to see. Upstairs, now.”
Footsteps on the stairs. She could feel his eyes upon her bare buttocks, between them. Her bared intimacies. His.
She Is Beautiful
Anne said, in a voice so gentle it was little more than a whisper. Evelyn felt tears start in her eyes. And hands upon her, touching her, soft and strong. A woman’s hands were upon her cheeks, upon her belly, touching her lightly and compellingly. And a woman’s lips upon her own, sweetly and so briefly ravishing her. And then long silence and a deep exhalation. A moan of sensual protest and a cord drawing taut. Could she feel her own limbs being stretched so? Could it be the subtle scent of Anne’s cunt that came to her, of jasmine and musk?
His hands to either side of Evelyn’s face, sliding the blindfold up and off her head. She could see. She blinked and saw him. Naked, with a tremendous erection. Evelyn was afraid to look up at the bed, but she did so because she had to. She stared at the naked woman, such a big woman, and so lovely. Anne lay face-up. Thick cuffs of black leather were clamped about her ankles and wrists. A bar of varnished oak, a long, thick dowel, held her ankles well apart, and they were drawn high toward the great log rafters through a small pulley set into the pine. Her wrists were drawn ceilingward in the same fashion. The woman was helplessly open, covered only by the frail cotton of her panties.
Anne Is a Slut, Evelyn
He said. “Of the most beautiful and precious sort. I know no one else like her.” He stepped tow
ard Evelyn and brought her face close to the urgency of his cock. “She shares herself with me, and she wishes to do so with you, as well.” Evelyn could not speak. Her breath came in little shuddering gasps, as if she might tumble over that sweet abyss into orgasm at but the sight of this woman, trussed so.
The tip of his hard-on, thick and velvet against her cheek, grazing her lips. Evelyn took it into her mouth and raised her eyes to him.
“Say hello to Anne, Evelyn,” he said.
His cock slipped from between her lips, and she stared at the woman on the bed. Slowly she rose, willing movement into her arms and shoulders. Into her thighs. Anne fascinated her. Evelyn felt the presence of life within her limbs once again and moved to the bed, coming up beside the restrained woman, touching the backs of her long thighs, letting her fingers drift across the planes of Anne’s buttocks—perilously close to her cunt. She put her face close against Anne’s—he had wrapped a thick black bandanna about her eyes—and she kissed Anne, shyly and with hunger.
“Hello, Anne,” she said. Anne smiled back at her.
He Made Anne Moan
And yelp with surprise and pain. And he said things that made Evelyn wish to cradle Anne’s head and kiss her. He took awful-looking, thin clamps and put them upon Anne’s nipples. There was a screw mechanism to bring the jaws tighter together, and Anne’s sensitive flesh bulged out under the pressure. They looked so cruel.
“May I pinch them instead?” she asked him shyly, not wishing to cross bounds unwelcome.
“If you pinch them very hard,” he said. Evelyn undid the terrible clips, and Anne groaned—first at the release of the sweet, clamping pressure, then at the pain Evelyn’s pinching fingers brought. Evelyn loved the full, heavy feeling of the big woman’s breasts in her hands. Such big breasts she had!
Nice Girls, Naughty Sex Page 14