Defiled Seduce Night

by Marie Cisneros

  Leaning over her again, but this time with his hands behind her knees, he urged her legs upwards and outwards until they were spread as high and wide as they could be without discomfort. She could feel his cock leaving trails of moisture as it lay on her mound and his hairy balls tickled her pussy. Now those leather ropes from her knees were re-attached to the posts at the top of the bed near her hands. She was fully exposed to him in a private and personal way that would have humiliated and embarrassed her in the years before she met him, before she had learned about herself. She could feel the wetness between her legs starting to trickle down over that incredibly sensitive area between her pussy and her ass.

  "Look" he said, stroking the back of a finger gently up and down between the lips of her pussy. She craned her head forward to see. Below the soft red hair on her mound she could see her own inner pussy lips, pink, swollen and glistening in the candlelight as they were spread apart by the position of her legs. He used both hands now to pull the inner lips upwards and apart and the small pink tip of her clit appeared. She was captivated by the sight. She had never looked at herself in this way before, from this angle, with her knees beside her ears. But then again, it wasn't every day she found herself in this particular position! She had looked in a handheld mirror of course from below, but then, who hadn't? She could feel her heart pounding as she watched her clit swell. What a disturbingly erotic sight. At times she had wondered what it would be like to be with another woman, to see and touch another woman's pussy. Would it look and feel like hers? Was hers beautiful? Would it taste good? She was feeling so totally safe and relaxed that the thought that next burst into her mind without warning was not instantly dismissed as usual. "If I could bend just a little bit more," she mused, "I could almost lick my own clit and then I would know what a woman feels and tastes like." She was shocked and yet strangely excited at the suddenly intrusive thought, and her trembling anticipation intensified. She felt him move, and her thoughts flipped back to the present.

  "What was he going to do?" This was already something they had never done before. She no longer felt confident that she knew what was going to happen tonight. Leaning downwards he blew gently on her clit, touching just the tip of his tongue to it. Her stomach rippled as shivers of excitement ran up her body causing her head to fall back on the pillows. "Now remember that and close your eyes," he said as he reached for something from the bedside table. As her lids closed, she felt the flickering of the candles dim and complete darkness fall as a soft blindfold covered her eyes. "Now. Just enjoy yourself and remember that I love you and want you to have only the best of everything," he said comfortingly but firmly as she started to react. Having little option but to trust him, she lay back and waited for what was to come next.

  He knelt there for a few long moments sliding one hand up and down his now hugely throbbing cock. The sight of her upturned ass right there in front of him was almost too much for him to bear. He knew he could tilt his hips forward right now and his cock could just as easily slide into her ass as it could into her pussy. And would sink as deeply into her as it was possible for it to go with her legs and thighs raised the way they were. But that was not the plan for tonight at all, and he reluctantly released his cock before it was too late.

  Taking two long white feathers from the drawer of the bedside table, he started with her face. Gently stroking just the ends of the feathers across her lips caused the tip of her tongue to appear as she tried to capture them with her mouth. The feathers continued across her cheeks and over her ears. Sometimes she could actually feel them as they moved, sometimes she just thought she could feel them, but her nerve endings still told her something was happening. Her pussy was now streaming and aching for physical stimulation. But the feathers continued across her neck and shoulders causing her to gasp and writhe. Now on her breasts, now her stomach, back to her breasts and shoulders, no way of predicting where they would go next. Eventually, the feathers moved slowly downwards across her stomach, across her soft red pubic hair and down the length of her pussy lips. She curved her hips even higher to encourage the feathers to stay on her pussy. She though that what she was expecting was about to happen. But again she was mildly disappointed as the sensations made their way up the insides of her thighs, to her knees and feet. The tickling on her feet was become intense as the feathers started back down, lingering on her inner thighs just inches from her slick, swollen lips. They passed over her ass causing her to clench her cheeks making her little pucker almost disappear as if trying to grip the feathers. The sensations had built to almost impossible heights intensified by her inability to move. She was almost coming with every slight movement of the feathers. The bed undulated as he adjusted his position and she thought, "At last, now he will fuck me." But, instead, she felt a tongue slide through her slippery wetness from her ass over the length of her pussy and finally flick at her clit. That was enough to push her over the edge and she felt the waves of orgasm rippling across her body. Straining at her leather bounds she panted rapidly as sensations flooded her brain, excluding everything external for a few moments of peaceful, loving satisfaction.

  Eventually, she tried to say; "Now it is your turn." But he very firmly reminded her that she had not been told she could speak yet, and that anyway, they were not finished. More shuffling on the bed and now she felt the tongue once more on her pussy. Long slow strokes the length of her pussy lips, little short jabs with a stiff tongue into her vagina, circling movements around her clit. Now a finger slipped into her cunt and probed in and out as the tongue continued to lap. She could feel the sensations peaking again as a second finger entered her cunt and the two fingers together curled upwards behind her clit to the rougher patch of her G-spot. A thumb pressed firmly against her gapingly exposed ass causing her to squirm even more. The fingers in her cunt withdrew and worked wetly on her clit as the tongue moved down to circled her little puckered ass. She groaned and tried to press her ass harder against the tongue but with little success because of the way she was bound. She could hear him groaning now as well and wondered how much longer he could hold out before he gave in and thrust his hard cock into her desperately waiting cunt. But the fingers and tongue retreated leaving her empty and impatient as she sensed him kneel up.

  With some more rocking of the bed the tongue returned to her clit and the fingers returned to her cunt but this time with a different motion. Before, his head had been mostly still with just the tongue moving. Now it felt as if his head was thrusting forwards and backwards in time with his groaning. Every time she heard him groan, his head thrust forward causing soft cheeks to push against her thighs as the tongue tantalized her. His fingers didn't seem to fill her quite as much as they had done a few minutes ago, but she presumed that this was because she had come once and was ready to come for a second time. She luxuriated in the feeling of being totally exposed and helpless. "What if my friends or neighbors could see us now," she mused to herself as her mind wandered. "I'll bet they would never think of me doing something like this. They probably think I am just an average middle aged housewife with an average, boring sex life." And then, "Oh my God! Are the blinds closed? What if one of the neighbors looks through the window?" Her automatic thoughts had intruded once more. Instinctively, she turned her head to double-check the drapes before she remembered the blindfold. Despite herself, she could feel her pussy lips engorging even more as these strange, wild thoughts flickered through her mind and the flashing lights that preceded her orgasms started pulsing in her eyes intensified by the darkness of the blindfold.

  She heard him say "Now!" and the darkness turned again into soft flickering candlelight as the blindfold was suddenly not there anymore. "Look now" he said and again she craned her head forward. She could see the tongue between her lips, flicking her clit upwards and the wet, slippery fingers pushing into her cunt. The sight was as erotic and extraordinary as any she had ever seen. Even more so because of the long dark wavy hair and the graceful shoulders and arched
back that led up to the widely flared hips and tight ass into which he was thrusting his cock. She could see his hard length, veins bulging and sticky with juices as it plunged in and out, and could feel the face and tongue thrusting into herself as his cock plunged again and again into the woman; rocking her forcibly forwards and backwards as if she was an extension to his cock. "My love. This is our new neighbor, Julia," he gasped as her mind and body exploded into a shattering orgasm followed seconds later by another and then another.

  As the waves of pleasure subsided, she struggled against the leather. After so much time in this position, it was too much for her and she begged to be released from her leather bindings. The leather at last fell away from her hands and knees, and she slumped exhausted on the damp sheets, her eyes closing as she passed out. Some while later as her exhaustion receded and her curiosity returned, she rolled onto her side to find the two of them lying there watching her. The woman, presumably Julia, lay on her side with the long curve of her side and hips accentuated by the position of her upper leg. He was spooned into Julia from behind with one hand on her hip, stroking slowly. She started to say "What? Who? Why? ...." But before she could start he reached across the woman and pressed a finger against her lips and said "No words tonight. I said I would give you the best of everything. And Julia really may be the best neighbor we have ever had. Enjoy tonight. Tomorrow is another day."

  This Choice We Make

  Cynthia Anderson looked down at the body of her best friend and lover, Anne Banner. Anne lay in a plain, white hospital bed with her eyes closed. Her right arm held an intravenous feed of glucose and an automatic blood pressure machine. An oximeter was on her middle finger, and the wire ran to a large machine that automatically displayed the oxygen content in Anne's brain as well as her pulse. Her face was swathed in bandages, as was most of her upper torso, her left arm, amputated at the forearm. Anne's pulse was a slow forty beats per minute, with her oxygen content at ninety-five percent. She could stay in this vegetative state for hours, days, weeks, months, years or even decades. There was no brain activity. The drunk driver that had taken their happiness away had also died in the crash.

  Cynthia, who never wore a seat belt, had been thrown clear. She landed against the side of the roadway, and until she sat up, the paramedics had thought she was dead. She watched as they took Anne to the hospital, and refused to go, evading both them and the police easily.

  The next night, she returned to Anne's side and the doctor pulled spoke with her.

  "Her chances for a full and complete recovery are very slim. According to her living will, you are next of kin. In all honesty, I would consider pulling the plug. It might be kinder, both to her, and to you."

  Cynthia nodded, and signed the necessary paperwork.

  "For insurance purposes, I can't let you do it. When you're ready, let me know."

  "Thank you, Doctor," Cynthia said in her calm, cool voice. "I appreciate all that you've done."

  The Doctor looked into her emotionless eyes and nodded.

  When the Doctor left, Cynthia sat down on the visitor's seat.

  "Anne, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she said. It took a great deal but eventually she began to weep softly.

  "You know, I have a choice. I have never loved anyone in all the years I've been alive in the way that I loved you. You are more precious to me than any one person, or thing. I cannot bear to loose you. I hope you can forgive me for what I have to do now."

  Out of the corner of her eyes through an internal window, Cynthia caught sight of a Nurse's Aide wandering through the corridor. It took her back to when she and Anne first met, five years ago in the Vista Rose Nursing Home.

  ***

  Around the first of December, Cynthia had secured a job as a Night shift nurse. Because of her extreme Porphyria, or light sensitivity, she could only work at the dead of night, and had to be mindful to any exposure to the sun, for fear of quick acting melanoma. Anne had been hired part time, from eleven o'clock to five in the morning, covering lunches and breaks for the other nurses and the aides.

  Anne was an aide. She often wore soft lavender and purple scrubs, with bright colorful tops that made the few residents that were awake smile. Sometimes they kidded her about how she would wear her pajamas to work. Anne was kind and considerate to all those that she met, and worked overtime shifts, even double shifts when necessary.

  Cynthia took her in as just another one of the staff until one early morning when she went to leave and found her custom van, vandalized. She closed her eyes and went back inside the nursing home, clearly irritated.

  Anne greeted her with her irreverent smile, "forget something, Cynthia?" She inquired.

  "No." Cynthia replied, coldly, "Some jerk wrecked my van. Smashed the windows and knifed the tires."

  "That's terrible!" Anne replied with honest disdain.

  "I need to get a cab, I need to get home. I can have someone pick up the van." Cynthia said.

  "Well I can give you a ride. Where do you live?" Anne said.

  "No, that's not necessary," she replied. "I can get a cab."

  "She's right, the cabs don't run that late out here," Carolyn, the charge nurse said. She had been inside a room working with a patient, and had heard the entire exchange. "I'd take you home myself, but you know I can't leave the building. I can tell the day shift that there was a problem and that Anne had to leave early. Really, Cynthia, it won't be any problem at all."

  Cynthia looked exasperated. She was a private person, and felt embarrassed about her disability, and all that went into it. She realized she wouldn't get home before dawn any other way and then relented. "I'd appreciate it, thank you."

  Anne smiled brightly, grabbed her coat and purse.

  Cynthia followed. "I really appreciate this, Anne. It's very frustrating for me to have to go through this."

  "Oh no problem. I love to drive. Where do you live, anyway?"

  "Out in Brush Prairie. It's a bit of a drive, I can give you some money for gas."

  "Brush Prairie? Cool, I live out there too. We could carpool!" Anne said happily, ignoring the offer of gas money.

  Cynthia's eyes contracted to slits, she had hoped that no one lived near her that worked in the facility. She was a private person at the best of times and didn't like to mix her work life and her home life. Her nostrils flared in irritance still, this woman was going out of her way to help. It would do her no good to be rude.

  "When did you move out to Brush Prairie?" Anne asked.

  "A couple of years ago, I bought a small piece of property with some inheritance I had and decided to settle down in the country." Cynthia replied.

  "That's cool," Anne replied, "I've lived out here all my life."

  Anne's driving was fast and careful, she took the winding country roads at seventy miles per hour without thinking, and Cynthia smiled. She, too, loved driving at night at excessive speeds on the long winding passes that led from the city of Vancouver, Washington to Brush Prairie.

  Cynthia's large home was set back on some acreage. There was an ornate gate toward the front of the acreage, surrounded by a stone yard.

  "T-This is your house?" Anne asked.

  "Yes. My quiet little country retreat. Took me a while to have the stonework brought in, but I think it gives a nice touch to it, don't you?" Cynthia inquired.

  "Um, yeah. It's beautiful." Anne said.

  "I must thank you again, Anne. I really appreciate it," Cynthia said. On an impulse, she reached out and touched Anne's shoulder, trying to smile, trying to be friendly.

  Anne grinned back, despite the physical coldness of Cynthia's touch. "Anytime, besides, I got out of work early. I can cruise around back to my place in about five minutes. It's too bad you can't stay later, we could carpool."

  "Perhaps, when my illness is better under control," Cynthia replied.

  Anne asked, "When do you have a day off? I usually go hang out at the Spot Tavern on my nights off."
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  "I only work a few days a week. I have tomorrow and the next night off."

  "Well come down, and shoot some pool with us." She said, gesturing, "There are a lot of locals that work night shift."

  Cynthia tilted her head. The idea of camaraderie was foreign to her, but perhaps Anne was the exception, rather than the rule. "That's in downtown Brush Prairie, right? Down by the Thriftway?"

  "Yup, that's it. I head down for supper, about six, and stay until they close. I've been kind of lonely since Marie left."

  "Marie?" Cynthia asked.

  "Um, uh, my uh, roommate," Anne replied.

  Cynthia's eyes bored into Anne's. It was as if she could see the lie as clearly as a neon sign.

  "Well we were friends, too. Real close friends." Anne said slowly, almost in a surreal tone.