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From: sista_shakespeare@my-dejanews.com
Subject: ASS (Story)TOYS (M/F rom, odd)
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Disclaimer: The following story contains material is intended for adults
only, that is people over the age of consent in whatever country they happen
to live. All comments welcome - sista_shakespeare@my-dejanews.com
A BIG thank you to Kim (Ghost Ex Machina) and Poison Ivan for all their
encouragement which led to my decision to repost revised this story.
Toys (formerly Bomba Story #1)
A kiss does it every time. Sometimes that's all I get. We sometimes go
diyeta for weeks because he says sex in cars etc. is for kids. He's a
romantic... He'd rather hand feed me butterfly prawns in our favourite
restaurant than make love in the car. It's almost perverse but it works for
both of us. I get so excited my ears and nipples tingle, and my pelvic
muscles keep tying themselves in knots. He adds new dimensions to the game
all the time.
We're always careful in the office. He shares it with two other people, his
friends and also mine but I shouldn't be there anyhow so it's strictly
social, nothing more. Sitting at his computer he just said. "Come and look
at this."
Thinking that he was going to show me something on the screen I leant over
his shoulder. I nearly wet myself with panic... The center drawer of his
desk was open and sitting in the corner nearest to me was an ivory coloured
sex toy. I tried to catch my reflection in the monitor screen to see if I
looked as flushed as I felt. He just grinned. For the rest of the afternoon
my head swam and my thoughts skipped from one insane scenario to the next
involving this vibrating plastic egg.
A couple of hours later, in a corner of the cafeteria, he sat holding my
hand under the table. Grinning like a loony he explained the bizarre
possibilities. My earlier fantasies of secret pleasures, interrupted by
embarrassing discovery, suddenly didn't seem so bad.
"It's wireless... remote controlled." He told me..."Works at up to twenty
feet:
I've tried it."
I sat there with a lump in my throat, thinking sadly. "Does he not know how
awful this gadget makes me feel. Will he be reeeally upset if I throw it away
ai
? "
Feeling his hand squeezing mine I looked him in the eye and I knew. I've
seen that look before. It's his 'I love you so much I...' look. I was going
to say something discouraging but instead I find myself asking; "Does it
make much noise lah?"
"It's quite quiet on low settings." He said casually, "If you're sitting on
an upholstered chair and you squeeze your thighs together, you probably
won't be able to hear it at all."
I want to scream. I want to bang my head on the table, I want to say
"Noooo!" but my big Moro heart says..."Do it for him... Make him happy..."
On the way back to his office he snogs me tenderly in the lift. His tongue
only slightly melts the lump in my throat. For the rest of the week. I
imagine a small black cloud hovering above my head raining depressing
thoughts onto me. Sniggering waiters with erections... Leah dangling it by
its wire. Sadly…
"Darling a word..."
I cringe at the thought, remembering the vibrator he bought me last year.
Small, svelte, the sort of thing Leah's childless friends might think chic to
leave on their dressing tables. He used it on me once. The night he gave it
to me... The very phrase... 'Gave it to me'. Straight out of the box and
into me. Curled up like a baby on the bed with a mouth full of my own
knee... Its unexpected sensations would have finished me off anyway even if
He hadn't slid under my thighs and given me the non electric version
simultaneously in my rear. Squashed up in a ball, I couldn't breathe. His
mouth on mine sucking the life out of me. His hands on my hips, holding me
still, while he pumped it back in....It was so good I think he came twice. I
just came... From the first touch of his warm silky knob, through the
bigness as it went in...the aching undulating fullness.
"Turok mo ako! -- Tolong!"
To the last quiver as it shrank and slipped out....The waves and arabesques
of pleasure just grew... Huge swirling spasms... black velvet... dark red
and purple like a melting Kay Nielsen print... I don't remember going to
sleep... Maybe I dreamed of dervishes. I don't remember....
He woke me at lunch time with fresh orange and a plate of scrambled eggs.
He'd washed my little Taiwanese friend and put him back in his plush red
box. That afternoon as we lay on the sofa, I looked at it. Held it in my
hands for the first time... Small... Smooth... Slender... Quite heavy... I
was pleased. If he'd bought a huge one. A 'Batuta ni Drakula', I'd have been
wounded... literally! but this was just right. Elegant, sexy... A lover's
gift.
Inevitably, the kissing got serious, my pyjama top got loosened, namamasa
ang puki, my pants slipped a bit, and a bit more... His cock got really
hard... My pyjama pants were round my ankles now and he took me back to bed
and played with me. That's exactly the right description. We kissed in the
style of people trying to steal each others lunch. If you didn't have
hormones you'd have thrown up watching us! He licked my eyelids, kneaded my
breasts until it felt like my nipples were going to take off like little
brown rockets. I got that feeling behind the bridge of my nose as if I'm
going to sneeze, and I started noticing my pelvic muscles getting restless.
My hands started wandering around on their own, but Sunday afternoons have a
little magic of their own when they follow Saturday nights which last a long
way into Sunday morning. Everything's slower, more affectionate.
The juices began to ooze and I stopped being acutely aware of having been
ravaged only a few hours ago. His mouth and tongue descending over throat and
breasts... lingering on one taut teat long enough to make me push him down.
He stopped at my belly button sucking, licking. Cradling his head in my arms
as he slipped a single finger into me. Slowly, gently... To and fro.
Squirming against his knuckles, smooth as oil, I wanted this... just this...
a single slick digit lazily roaming my puki sending little sparks of joy up
and down my body. Slowly pulling my womb upwards, ripening it for his
thrusting cock. By now my little puki's hot with desire, soft wet coral
swelling from the heart of me. Nagwa watir watir ang puki.. Yes. I looked
down at him between breasts big with warm sensations. I could've scratched
him with my nipples now. I laid back, ready for more than his smoothly
oozing finger... Thighs brushing his shoulders. Eyelids fluttering...
murmuring Ai!... Ai! with every other beat of my heart Ai!... Looking up at
me from so far away... he smiled.
"Saya sayangkan engkau."
He said it softly, he says it always. The juice and warmth of me flows like
a river. It would be terrible if he didn't love me... because he knows how
to say this so perfectly.
"Ai!... Mahal Na Mahal Kita!" It's not the same...
His tongue already in me as I pull my thighs up against my throbbing
breasts. I love the way he kisses me when he's down between my thighs,
gently, roving from thigh to thigh. Slow tongue on the rim of my magic
jar... one hand spread on my lower belly pressing rhythmically down.
"Aieeee!" ... He tortures me... He could make me come in thirty seconds but
he teases... He has his knuckles jammed hard into the furrow of my rear,
middle finger sunk deep in me and still his tongue avoids my pearl... I Want
it! It... can be the tip of his tongue right...There... Anything... hard...
deep... merciful that penetrates the huge hot bubble inside that's choking
me.
"'Tang 'na...!"
I can't breathe, my heart's going to burst and then, holding my wrists so I
can't do anything, he starts blowing raspberries against my thighs and
expanding his favourite erotic fantasy... Ronnie Reagan doing Nancy and
Linda Ronstadt (...don't ask ). Detachable body parts aren't very erotic and
I can't laugh and come simultaneously... Neither can he but I know him and
how to play this game... Shoving him out of the way. I grabbed the most
obvious solution... My new lilac plastic toy and turned it on. Zzz... Zzz...
Zzz.. I pushed it up...right up inside. Mmm... squeezed my thighs together
and said the words we say... And I ate him whole. No delicate, sensuous
little blowjob this time. I had the vibrator purring away deep inside and
Him deep in my mouth. I threw my head back, mouth wide, gulping it deep,
gagging softly, holding my breath; matris deluxe .... Waiting for the taste.
He held me tight, one hand on the back of my neck, the other full of hot
suso. A second or so ahead of total asphyxiation, I got my mouthful of hot
salty magic.
The tenderest, most erotic moment is the second when I've got his come in
my mouth and I'm deciding whether to swallow or spit. Such possibilities...
Swallowing is sublime, serenity itself It nourishes the soul... But... She
who spits stylishly, knowingly, is a Jinneč, whose spell is inviolable. If
she kisses him and spits it into his mouth he will adore her... He will
tenderly place it where she desires... If she spills his seed on the sheets
and then wantonly stoops to retrieve it. His cock will be in her before she
can say "Fuck me..." That time I settled for serenity... When I came it
wasn't wondrous, just okay. That evening I put the little red box in my
bedside cabinet drawer. In the morning I awoke. Remembered, and hastily
relocated it to the bottom drawer of the dresser. Over the next couple of
months I used it once or twice but the magic had gone. I must've re-hidden
it a dozen times before reluctantly, I wrapped it up and slipped it into the
bin. I certainly didn't want to go through all that again.
Saturday evening rolled round at last. The egg now forgotten by me at
least, we decided on a cheap meal in our local Satay house, followed by an
early and erotic night. A short, fast drive through the traffic later, we
were sitting in the darkest corner of the Tiger's Claw studying the other
patrons from behind our menus; no point in even pretending to read the menu
itself. Anything other than the three set meals is perpetually; "Maafkan
saya - off, finish." It doesn't matter 'coz no one in a Malaysian restaurant
should ever be in a hurry or particularly hungry. Like most of the other
patrons, we're only here for the dimly lit, secluded tables and Ziana Zain's
fey songs of troubled love and broken hearts whispering from the sound
system. The rice steamed with coconut milk and chicken with lemongrass will
be just fine. Gado-gado, Sontong Sambal and fresh fruit salad may even be
possible, as it's Saturday night.
Slowly we went through the pleasantries that pass for service while the
waiter stared lasciviously but oh so slyly, at my legs and boobs. I
pretended not to notice as he was the one who caught us coming out of the
ladies room together a couple of months ago. Pahiya ka 'no? - Embarrassing
didn't quite cover it! I couldn't help smiling; wondering how low my
reputation has sunk among the staff.
My True Love and I passed the inevitable twenty minutes before the food
arrived, whispering sweet nothings and playing footsie under the table. That
night the staff were busy with several groups of noisy engineering students
as well as the usual amorous couples with no money and nowhere to go so we
were undisturbed in our shady corner. By the time we'd begun to eat, I was
already moist with anticipation of the night ahead. When he told me,
brushing a ginger glazed squid tentacle across my lips, that he had it in
his pocket, I shuddered slightly, no longer repelled, just embarrassed...
Imagining him pressing the egg into my hand. That's how he'd do it... Pull
my head against his chest, gaze into my eyes, squeezing my hand around it
and whisper softly...
He put his arm round my waist, dipped the squid into the hottest sambal and
pushed it into my mouth. Resting against his shoulder, my mouth full of
searing chili, I felt for his cock, squeezing it so he'd know... He smiled,
took the control from his pocket and put it on my lap. I didn't care. The
Tiger's claw's one of my favourite places, but there are other restaurants -
I really didn't care. Several people were already stealing furtive glances
at us as I closed my eyes. He kissed me very tenderly. He hates the taste of
squid... I thought gleefully about spitting it into his mouth. Twisting my
ankles, squeezing my thighs together I felt close, very close. His lips on
my hair, he held the glass of mineral water to my lips and, as I sipped,
awkwardly... he stroked my neck, cupped my breast and squeezing it gently,
whispered,
"Gusto kitang kantutin... big time."
Tipping the glass so I nearly choked... A huge warm hand squeezed me below
the table.. I hugged myself, shuddering... It gripped me....the way he
does... The joy of it rolled over me like a wave... High tide in coral cove.
Snuggled against him, gasping, blushing... Face buried in his shoulder...
I'm falling to bits...
He's smug, pleased with himself... Anak haram!!! He spoon feeds me Halo-
Halo... Still glowing with mingled desire and discomposure I lay my head on
his shoulder, my mouth full of chilled fruit and condensed milk. He dangles
a thread of Macapunto coconut string above my lips, laughing… "Of course
everyone saw you..." He whispers. "You're the cabaret. Walang hiya ka..."
Later, after we've walked, pa swing-swing pa, the three hundred yards to
where his ancient and thuggish Jaguar is parked, he tells me cheerfully that
he may have left the egg thing in the restaurant. "Aieee... How can he
do...This...to me over and over again..."
::::::::::::::::::::: Več - July '97 ::::::::::::::::::
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