358 lines
22 KiB
Plaintext
358 lines
22 KiB
Plaintext
Archive-name: Casual/bluestel.txt
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Archive-author: Gordon Watts
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Archive-title: Untitled Exploration
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I hated this feeling. I can can tell exactly where he is standing: over to the
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side and back a bit. Around the corner of the bar and moving into the hallway.
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To the bathrooms? Sigh. I am feeling, well, heh, warmed up.
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Mmm. If I take a deep breath [BJ breaths in], I can feel the my top tighten
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against my breasts. As there is no bra tonight, I can feel my nipples rub
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across the knit fabric. A thick yarn. Rub, rub. My legs too; movement, or
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squeezing is good. There is that slippery sensation and a bit of dampness on my
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panties. Arrgh!
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What would he be like? I'd love to run my hands through his hair; to feel his
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hair tickling my fingers. To trace a finger down his chest. What would the hair
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be like on his legs? Soft and fuzzy like some forest animal? Or strong,
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tickling my hands as they rubbed his inner thighs? To kiss his neck. He has a
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beautiful neck. I love to kiss necks; a sloppy sucking kind of a kiss. His ears
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too. Then to move down to his chest. Maybe nibble a nipple? Wonder what he
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likes. Across his stomach, which I imagine as a washboard. And then, oh! I
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should stop thinking like this! Dam it, I'm married!
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I open my eyes. Hey -- where did Jamie go? Oh, there out slithering with that
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guy she met on the dance floor. They look like they are having fun. If anything
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Jamie says is true, boy is he in for a treat tonight! Wish someone would do
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that sort of thing to me!
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Wait. Here he comes again. I can feel that tugging in between my legs. I try to
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squeeze it way, but it is still there. And stronger. It must be really wet.
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Mmmm. Oh! He's coming closer. Checking me out. Ah yes, the usual male scan.
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Rests a while on my breasts -- I push them out and feel my sweater rub across
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my nipples. Wonder if he saw the expression on my face. Moves down to my legs.
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I'm wearing a short mini-skirt so he should get an eyeful.
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Yikes! Eye contact. I'm locked. I can feel a flood of heat into my face. Good
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thing the strobe lights, etc. don't show anything. He looks around at the dance
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floor. At Jamie. Why did he do that? Back at me. Oh my! He's coming over.
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He's asking me to dance!
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It's one of Madona's songs: Vogue. My god, look at that body move. I can
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already see it undressed. To wrap his legs around me, to feel him inside me.
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Geez! I haven't though of anything like this since college! What would Rip
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say? Furious. I can imagine the yelling match. Tough. If he's off on a
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business trip, well, I'm going to have some fun. And his hands.
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I can imagine them grabbing me. They are large meaty ones. That of a
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construction worker, perhaps. On my breasts, grabbing, pulling, gently
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twisting. A caressing hand down from my neck across one of my breasts and down
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a leg. Back up the inside of a leg and gently across the hair covering my sex.
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Just a tease. I like to be teased a little. If I didn't have panties on, there
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might well be a wet stain on my skirt!
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What's he watching. My breasts. I don't even know this guy. But I guess that is
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what is so exciting. If I did I probably never think twice. Look at him -- he's
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staring. Why does that have to be part of the ritual? I could flaunt them, I
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suppose. I don't have much, but I'm fit and trim. Would he like that? Would I
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like that?
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I try putting a little more shoulder in it. Looking around, it's not hard to
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find a roll model. Over there is a rather full bodied blond. Look at the size
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of those things. She's drenched in sweat -- oh, so am I. How about that sweat
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after lovemaking. To run my hand across his chest. Hair all damp. That sex
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smell rising from between our bodies. Smell of the body after a climax changes.
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I love taking deep breaths after lovemaking with Rip. Makes my whole body
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tingle. Wonder what other women smell like. Humph! Wonder what she smells
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like! She dips her shoulder, and pushes our her chest, pulls the other back.
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Wow! That is quite a move. Let me try.
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He's looking at my face again. I can feel it. That desire thing. He need only
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communicate it with me. I can feel the music beating. No way to talk. The bass
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drum is in my lungs. It makes my sweater vibrate. It even makes my box humm.
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box!? I would never say that.
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He's got a bulge in his pants. Looks bit bigger than average. It's like a
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snake, slowly uncoiling. With each gyration, it moves up a bit more. mmm i
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would like to hold that... To gently cress it. Blow my hot breath across it.
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Run my hands back past his balls, grab his but and pull it towards my face.
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Grrrr! I want this guy, who ever he is. I don't care. I don't care about Rip,
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I don't care about Jamie getting a ride home, and I don't care about AIDS.
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His home is bare. He must go to the club often as he lives only two blocks
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away. The idea of the many others pleasured by him excites me. His experienced
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fingers, mouth, the way he will rub against my body. Wait, here he comes ...
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with a drink.
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It's a thick, sticky liquid. Red. Tastes vaguely of cherry or strawberry. It
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coats the back of my throat, and slides the rest of the way to my stomach were
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it becomes a hot little ball. The ball slowly expands, relaxing me. I feel like
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I could just sit down and let this guy do what ever he wants to me. There's a
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bean bag chair. Pow. It's warm.
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No, don't say anything. How can I make him shut up! I spill my drink all over
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my sweater. Ruined. He jumps up. I feel the liquid seep through the cotton. It
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is cool against my hot sweaty skin. It trickles down to my left nipple. I can
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feel it around the nipple. There is more there. It seems to be collecting, a
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weights, tugging. And it feels good. I close my eyes, in my own world. Finally,
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it drips off my nipple onto my stomach.
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My nipples are rock hard. Every breath is one of pleasure. I don't want to even
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take my top off as they won't have anything to rub against. Tough. I slide it
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over. I rub my hands across my chest, the sticky drink spreading. I move across
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my stomach, both hands up and cup my breasts. I gently draw circles around the
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nipples, stretch them a little. My body is humming. I push inwards on my
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nipples, and they slip sideways because of the drink. The sunrise of the slip
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sends a shock through my body. Shiver.
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I hear him moving but I don't open my eyes. I move my hands across the top of
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my breasts and down again, being sure to squeeze my nipple on the way down.
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Across my stomach where that hot drink has made me feel so languid. Down across
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my hips sliding the skirt and panties around my ankles. I grab what is left of
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my drink and pour it on my stomach.
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It trickles down the insides of my legs onto his bean bag. I can feel it
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dripping across my lips. They must be touched. I move my hands down across my
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thighs, and up towards my sex. I just touch the lips gently, a tease. With the
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left hand I play with my right breast. A gentle pinch. A push. A trace. Or a
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squeeze. With my other hand I use a finger to trace my inner thigh to my sex. I
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spread my legs wide, and rub my finger up and down, gently across the opening.
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I can feel the urgency building between my legs. The guy as walked out of the
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room now. I really don't care, I am very involved in myself. I rub a little
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faster, and that old familiar feeling starts to build. My hips start to move
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out of my control. My breath is pounding.
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My sex has a life of its own. It thrusts upwards, as if it wished to be filled.
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Drops back unattended to. My fingers rub faster, what little can go in, does.
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It thrusts for ward again, pushing hard against my hand. I can feel it
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crystalizing. This is going to be an intense one. I can't remember my name, but
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I do notice that I'm moaning. The moans are rapidly becoming low pitched
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squeals. Here it is, its ohhh. Ican't seethink. My whole brain is vibrating. I
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can't move my hand to keep it going! It's going to crash, no! Don't leave!
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Ahh. Something *very* cold has entered me. oh. My orgasm has passed. But, I
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still can't stop my hips moving. My breath is still short and fast. He must be
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putting something inside me. Not him. Too cold. Its temp. difference is so much
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that I can feel it move inside. Right at the entrance. He is moving it back and
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forth just a little. But very fast. I can feel my hips thrusting to get it in
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faster.
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owww. This is no fair. It's building, but unless he goes deeper. mm there, he
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did it once. No! He is back on the edge. Dam it. Urg. Deeper. He shoves in
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again -- very deep. My whole body expands to accept it. I try and squeeze down
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to keep it from leaving. I can't! It's gone again. But I'm worse. I must be
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screaming. In! Again! Now! I'm on the edge, damm it, can't you see that! He
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is just teasing me there on the outside. Grr. It's enough to keep me on the
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edge, but not put me over. Again! IN! Yes! oh! I can feel it, the world
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shifts, my brain seems to crystalize. But it's gone again! I'm on the edge. I
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can't stand it. In. Wait, it is. But so slowly this time. Its going to take
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hours to get in there. Faster. My hips are moving faster than light, but he
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isn't letting this cold beast enter faster. I feel a hand push down on my chest
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to hold me still. Now. Ahh... It is all the way in. I can handle this. And out.
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Oh my, I'm exploding. My body is convulsing. I doubt I'm saying anything
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because I can't breath. I feel my hands grabbing something soft with all their
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might. I hope it's not him. My legs feel locked. My back is arching. Sun-bombs
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are exploding in my head. Every nerve ending is on fire. A loud vibrating at
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the base of my skull. My head is twisting from side to side, gasping for air.
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This cold thing is going faster and faster.
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I'm floating. I don't think I could move if I wished. On water. My hands are
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still clenched! Oh, it is just the bean bag. I open my eyes. There he is,
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standing before me. On the floor to my side is a rather large carrot! My god!
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In me? His feet are spread and he -- hey! he has poured the drink across his
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chest and his pennis.
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Both hands are gently stroking it. It is a proud thing, standing there. A
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separate person, as my sex was a few minutes ago. It is hard. So hard. I can
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see the veins. His hand is gently moving up and down. Slowly. Each time he
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passes the head he shivers. It seems to start at the base of his back and
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travel upwards. Some times his head snaps back and a gasp escapes his mouth. He
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pumping faster now, but still those long careful strokes. Wait! He is slowing.
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I'm beginning to feel myself again: this is a very hot scene.
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Goodness. Look at how hard he is. I have never really looked at anyone's
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pennis. Slowly in, slowly out of the top of his hand. The head, like some sort
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of malformed WWII helmet. The shaft. Blue steel it's been called. But it isn't
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smooth. Full of bumps. And it isn't straight. He is curved to the left a
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little. God, he would feel good inside.
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He is just getting bigger too. It seems like every shiver he becomes a bigger,
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stiffer. Me too. Hey! My hand has wondered, on its own, down between my legs
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and is starting up again! No way I'm going to miss his show!
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He let go. He penis is hanging in mid air, tight as a drum. A touch of fluid
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dribbles out the top. Is he coming? No, everything relaxes. He gently pumps
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again. I can see everything. Sitting looking up I can see the complete
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underside of his pennis and his balls. Look at that, he does it again. He face
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has gone ridged. He must be going to the edge of an orgasm.... and stopping! I
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would never have enough control to do that!
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He suddenly stiffens again. He hand clenching and unclenching at his side. He
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relaxes, and starts again. Again, he peaks, but doesn't go all the way. This is
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getting too much for me. I want him inside me, or in my mouth. I start to lean
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forward, withdrawing my hand from myself. But he falls to his knees, and onto
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his back. His pelvis heaves as the air, just as mine did. In out in out in out!
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I want him. I carefully straddle him, and bend down so that his pennis and hand
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are about two inches from my sex. It happens. With a mighty grown he thrusts
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up. He hot liquid shoots out. The first comes down on his chest. The second
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over my but. I lean down on him.
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Our chests touch. My breasts running over his pecs. His cum and my spilled
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drink create a slippery sensation, not unlike that of after-sex-sweat.
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The smell is delicious, but the tension is gone, for now. He lets out a sigh
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and I relax onto on him. We lie there for a few minutes. A light rain has
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started outside; he opens a large window letting the sounds of it and the city
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in. Standing at the window I can feel a large truck rumble by as he gently
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traces his hand down my back and cups one of my cheeks. I can feel his breath
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on my back and he kneels down, his hands start at the bottom of my calves and
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move up -- just a finger on each leg. Getting closer. I move my rear out a
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little, trying to bring more of his hand onto my leg. Just a finger. Up and up.
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I am very conscious of my sex. It is still warm, both our cum's mixed there.
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His fingers hit the wetness and move up. The touch my lips, as my hands had a
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few minutes before.
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Fingers suddenly gone and I let out a sigh. His strong hands turn me around and
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sit me on the window sill. Another truck goes by -- wonder if they can see me.
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Tough. Strong hands kneading my thighs. He is kneeling before me. I watch his
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mouth. It is disconnected from the rest of his body. Just the lips. Not big.
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And a tongue between them. I can see it dart out, touching my nipples. Lightly.
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Almost so light I can' t feel it, but the sight is very erotic.
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His hand slides up from my thigh. Over my shoulders. One goes around my left
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breast -- squeezing. Pinching. A combination of pain and pleasure. He squeezes
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the nipple and pushes it out. He breaths his hot breath across. My nipples are
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so hard it is almost painful. They hunger for his mouth for his teeth. But is
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not to be. His hands go up to my shoulders and move down again. Slowly. Across
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the top of my breasts. I push my chest out forcing him to rub my nipples, to
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pinch them, to pull them. He is to quick. Sex shouldn't be a fight!
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Yet, my hands stay at my sides. Strange rules we play by. I could reach up and
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touch myself, or force him to touch me. His hot mouth is hovering over my
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breast again. I can feel the heat as he breaths out, the cool air as he breaths
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in. My nipples ache. He opens his mouth and slowly surrounds my nipple. I can
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see everything. His eyes are watching my face as he does this. I can feel the
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hot circle of his mouth around my nipple -- but, dammit!, he still isn't
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touching it. The tension ... He pushes, squishing my breast against my rib
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cage, carefully avoiding my releasing me and touching my nipple. Suddenly, I
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can feel his hot tongue. It is tracing around the edge, spirals getting closer
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to the center. I can't see the tongue, but it is burning a path of white heat.
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Closer and closer. My upper body stretches, my back arching, pushing towards
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him. I want him to grab the nipple and pull! Closer and closer and then, ahhh.
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A shiver and my head snaps forward. A tingling that rushes through my body. My
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sex is drenched, I can feel a drip making its way down my thigh, on to his leg.
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He smiles and wipes it with his hands. Looking deep into my eyes, he lifts his
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hands to his mouth and carefully licks me off his hand. His tongue darts
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between and around his fingers. Will it soon dart in and between me? The
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anticipation is almost better than the real thing!
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He pulls on a nipple with his fingers -- trapping it, rolling it. They are
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still aching to be touched, but no longer the part of my body yelling loudest.
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I want his lips between my legs. I want that tongue to slip back and forth over
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my clitoris. I want that mouth to suck hard on my clitoris.
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As if reading my mind (as any good man should!) he bends lower, scraping his
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chin across the top of my leg. I can feel the hot breath coming from that
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mouth. On my inner thighs. I open my legs as wide as I can. Sitting on the
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window sill, I think this is a crazy position, but it only bothers me for a
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second.
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He has his mouth on my thigh! Just behind the knee. A gentle, wet, sucking
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kiss. The kind I like to place on necks. The sloppy kiss is moving up. I can
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smell my sex, I can feel its heat. It isn't really a part of me, but something
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on its own. It has its own mind, its own body, and its own needs. And it
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needs... My hips rotate up to give him a better angle. But he passes my sex by
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and that wet kiss moves down my other leg. A hands suddenly brushes by my sex,
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nudging the flap of skin touching my clitoris. A soft moan, and my hips shake
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in pleasure. But no, it doesn't come back.
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Instead, the kiss moves back towards my sex. This time, it stops, and spends
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time right next to my lips. I can feel it against the outer lips, moving up and
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down. I can feel the hot, wet tongue. I know he must be getting intoxicated by
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the smell. Good. Closer he moves.
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He must touch me. I try and move my hips closer to me. I moves back. He seems
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lost in his own world, the kiss the focus of it. The kiss stops. His mouth,
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with his tongue sticking out, is directly in front of my sex lips. I have my
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head bent over, watching ever move. I will that tongue closer, into me. But it
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doesn't work. I can feel the moisture collecting on the edge of my lips. I'm so
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hot.
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Then he does it. Rather anti-climatic, actually. A quick lick. Well... I may
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not have felt that much, but my sex did. It sends crazy messages to my hips as
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they vibrate under his touch. "More, More" they scream. Again. This time, the
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shivers are exquisite. I don't know how much more I can handle.
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His tongue is moving fast now. Longs strokes from the bottom of my sex to the
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top. Every time he hits my clitoris. Ever time I feel my body convulse. My head
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rolls and my chest shiver in the pleasure he gives me. I wonder if he knows.
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Again. Again. Again. Each time a little worse. Each time a little better. I
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know that another orgasm is building.
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It has gotten to the point where I can't really see properly. My eyes close and
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I can still see him. No, not him, just his mouth. It is still making those long
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strokes. Faster. My hips are moving in time. Perfect. Moving up to meet his
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tongue, and pressing forward to get more pressure as he passes by my clitoris.
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I'm moaning. My breathing is even in time. In, gasp, "oooo", in, gasp, "oooo".
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My head flopping from side to side and I a bit of dribble down the side of my
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mouth: I have forgotten to swallow!
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I'm right at the edge. I can feel that feeling building again. Those sun-bombs.
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That crystallization forming. Just at the peak. Arrrr -- two three more thrusts
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from his tongue and I'll be there. I must be screaming.
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And the jerk stops! I wait, hopping it is a cruel joke. A tease, maybe. But
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no. I open my eyes. He is standing. His erect penis at eye level. It is
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tempting, but right now, I need to be satisfied. Maybe later.
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I rise, and he grabs my but, lifting me up. What is he doing. As he lifts me, I
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feel his penis slide past my stomach, over my pubic hair. I want him in me. His
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penis springs free and hits my clitoris. He starts to lower me. I reach down to
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guide him into me. My weight gently settles on him. And spring! He fills me.
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Ohhh! I want to swallow him whole. I want him all the way in, I want to grab
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his organ with all my might so that it can never leave. I squeeze with all my
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might. He groans and his eyes roll back. He breaths in shakily, as he lets me
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all the way down.
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I feel his pubic hair against mine and then I feel the hard bone grind into my
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clitoris. This and him in me send me right over the edge. I can't stop moving
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up and down. I jump. My head from side to side, hair flying everywhere. I must
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scream my head off. And it goes on and on. Every time he moves another spasm
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shoots through me. Every time I move I get an electric shock. I can't think. I
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can't see. He doesn't seem to notice. His gasps are coming loud and fast. He
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thrusts up, bouncing me high, and holds. The edge. I grind down hard, and
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squeeze. I want this to be one of his better ones. He lets a full throated
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moan. From deep in that hairy chest, it rumbles forth, vibrating me, like those
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trucks outside. I shiver as my own pleasure over cums me again. My head snaps
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back and we collapse on the floor.
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I'm panting so hard, oxygen starved, I can barely see. Slowly the baren house
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returns. I look at him. Drenched in sweat. He is already cool, as I run my hand
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down his long body, over his penis. It is drenched. I move down over it and
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start licking it. Slowly. It is partially limp from its recent exertion. But
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our body fluids mix together are good. Relaxing. I suck, nibble, in at a very
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relaxing pace. Not really teasing, but not really going after him. Matching our
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mood -- rest for the next session.
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The phone rings. The real world comes crashing back in. I can feel the hard
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wood under my knees, the bare rug to my left. The floor isn't at its cleanest
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-- but I bet most women who come here don't notice, as I hadn't until now.
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Humph!, wonder what is in his refrigerator.
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He gets up, his long body stretching. He walks slowly to the kitchen and the
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source of that ring. I watch his but sway, clench, unclench. Yes, a nice body,
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this guy. Some sort of argument. Don't call me at this time of night, or
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something generic like that. I get up, and find my clothes.
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I'm not there when he hangs up. I hope he is smart enough not to come after me.
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I hope he understands. My top, still sticky, feels cold and unpleasant against
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my chest. Strange how a few hours ago it was one of the most erotic things. I
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walk past the club and see Jamie walking out with that guy... I hardly give
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them a notice except to realize that I will have to take a taxi home.
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--
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gwatts@fnald.fnal.gov
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