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Archive name: alan09.txt (MF, mc)
Authors name: Julian Coreto (juliancoreto@hotmail.com)
Story title : Alan - Part 9
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Alan - 9 (MF, mc)
by Julian Coreto (juliancoreto@hotmail.com)
***
A New Friend
***
It was the Sunday night, the last night of spring break.
Alan spent the day completing his assignments for school,
and by early evening he was done. He fiddled around on
the computer for a bit, surfing sites and reading e-
mails, but by 8 o'clock he was bored. "The Simpsons" was
a rerun so he had decided not to watch. With nothing much
to do Alan began to clean his desk and organize his
papers, but before he had made much progress he came upon
the ring.
He had enclosed it in a sheet of notebook paper and some
tape, and when he drew it out from the desk drawer it
took him half a second to realize what it was. Slowly he
unwrapped it. It just looked like a regular ring now, not
glowing or buzzing like it had before. He examined it
closely; it was silver but badly tarnished,
unsurprisingly because it was two-and-a-half millennia
old. He decided to polish it, and as he put it down on
the desk it began glowing and vibrating. He picked it up
again, and it stopped.
Palming it in his left hand he went downstairs and
grabbed a rag and his mom's silver polish and quickly
returned to his room, closing the door behind him. He had
never polished silver before so he didn't know if he
should apply the polish to the ring directly or first to
the rag. He scooped out some polish, a gooey pink
substance, and rubbed it on the rag with the tips of his
fingers, then placed the ring in the center of the moist
part of the rag, folded it over, and began to rub the
ring through it. After a few seconds he stopped to check
his progress and saw that the ring was now gleaming.
"Should I try it on?" he asked himself silently. He was
still new to his powers, and he didn't know what the ring
would do to them. He put the ring down again so he could
continue to think. This time the glow from the ring was
intense, so intense that the light was almost blinding,
and when he reached down to pick it up again, in hopes of
stopping the terrible light from damaging his eyes he was
chagrined to see that it was not abated. "For some reason
this ring wants me to wear it," Alan was figuring out, so
he slipped it on his finger, the middle finger of his
right hand. He didn't know why he chose that finger, but
it felt right.
Instantly the light faded, and after a few seconds it had
stopped completely.
"Alan," he heard his mother call from downstairs, "Were
you expecting company? There's someone at the door for
you."
Alan went downstairs and saw his parents speaking to his
unexpected guest. He wasn't quite sure who this man was,
but he was certain that he had something to do with the
ring, the Ring of Ko'un-Zir.
"Ah, there you are Alan," the man began. He had an
accent, European for sure, it sounded like to Alan. He
couldn't tell if it was French or British because it
sounded like a little of each. "It's nice to meet you at
last." His parents were at a loss, and he could see his
father about to say something, but instead he took his
mother and they walked away from Alan and the stranger,
and up the stairs.
"I don't want to be rude or anything, but who are you."
"Awfully sorry young man, frightfully discourteous thing
to do. Well, you know, manners were never my string suit.
I am Jean-Pierre Massimo, and I am here because of you.
Because you are wearing the ring."
"I've heard of you! The man at the mus--" Alan stopped
short, not wanting to tell Massimo that he had stolen the
Ring of Ko'un-Zir from the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
"You're an archaeologist, that's uh, that's where I've
heard of you."
"And you, young man, you are the vessel of one of the
Seeds of Paishiya'uvada."
"What are you talking about?" Alan bluffed.
"Please don't patronize me Alan. You are a vessel of the
Seed. There are five Seeds in existence, and you contain
one. You received it last month in the hospital from its
former vessel, a man named Grossman."
"I didn't know his name." A few seconds later Alan
realized he had blown his bluff.
"So, the lies are over, thank goodness."
"How did you know? Did the ring tell you? I know you
found it in Iraq many years ago, so you must know
something about it. Please Mr. Massimo, I know virtually
nothing about the Seed, and less about the Ring of Ko'un-
Zir."
"Patience my son, all in good time. And by the way, it's
'Dr. Massimo.'"
"Sorry."
"Call me Jack. Everybody does." He laughed.
They went into the living room and sat across from each
other. Alan noticed that Jack was also wearing a ring
identical to his own, but he held his tongue, wishing for
Jack to tell him more.
"Just out of curiosity, do you know which of the Seeds
you contain?" Jack asked him.
"Uh, yeah. My Seed is the Seed of Hyrcanus."
"Really! Well I'll say! Excellent, excellent." He clapped
his hand on his knee. "The first of them all, well met!"
He paused before continuing, leaning closer to Alan as if
to confide, "I am the vessel of the third Seed, the Seed
of Cyaxares."
Alan had a million questions, and Dr. Massimo could see
him chomping at the bit to ask them. "Right, right. You
are dying to ask me some questions, but please, all in
good time. I am used to lecturing, so you'll have to
indulge me.
"So, about a month past you became the vessel of the
Seed. And earlier this week you 'acquired' the Ring of
Ko'un-Zir at the museum in Manhattan, correct?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
"After the firing and arrest of Dr. Swindon-Smythe I
realized that someone had found my ring at the museum,
and I had to rush there to rectify the situation."
"Oh Jeez! He was arrested? That's awful." Alan dropped
his eyes, ashamed of himself.
"Oh, I fixed it for the chap. He's back on staff-as you
Yanks say, 'No harm, no foul.' However, if your powers
had been more advanced this would not have happened.
Before I leave here tonight you must promise me to
practice."
"But I don't really know what I'm doing. How am I going
to practice? Is there a manual or something?"
Jack chuckled. "Sorry young man, there's no set of
instructions. Just find a quiet hour to exercise you
powers. You don't need to meditate, you need not
concentrate. Just exercise your powers like you would
your body. The better you become using the skills you
know you have, the easier it will be to discover new
ones."
"How did you find me?"
"Oh simple really. I had the chief of security at the
museum review all of the videotape from last Monday, and
then I 'hired' a private investigator to track you down.
He found your cousin Nina first because she lives in New
York. I paid her a visit this morning and she told me
where you live. The clumsy alterations Swindon-Smythe
made in the curatorial databases pinpointed the time of
your visit, so thankfully we didn't have to sit through
watching hours upon hours of videotape. It was quite
easy, really. A lesson to you for the future to cover
your tracks better, what ho.
"And now we come to the ineffable motive of my contact:
the ring. How much do you know about the creation of the
Seeds?"
Alan told him about the incident when he passed out and
found the story written in his notebook, and he even went
upstairs and retrieved it to show to his visitor.
"Very good, very good. I hope you are keeping this in a
safe place? You might think about a safe-deposit box."
Alan agreed.
"So, after Ko'un-Zir destroyed the Orbis Tertius he had
five rings fashioned from the metal. He took the orb to
Achnai the Smith, the best metal worker in all of
Mesopotamia. To prevent it from ever being used as a
weapon against the vessels, Achnai melted the orb down in
his oven and then mixed the pure silver of the orb with
base metals, but before he did this Ko'un-Zir had him set
aside enough slag to make the five rings."
"What do the rings do? Do they increase my power?"
"No, not really. They may help you to develop them
faster. Your learning curve will shorten, and your
mastery of your abilities will intensify. You will be
able to discover the limits of the Seed better."
"Do all of the vessels find rings?"
"No, as of yet only two have been found. Both of them be
me as a matter of fact. But I'm not here for a pat on the
back, don't you know, don't you know."
"If you don't mind me asking, why are you here? Is there
something you need to tell me?"
"Well, to be perfectly honest, I have never met another
vessel, though I was close to tracking down Grossman when
he met his end. I left the ring at the Met on the off-
chance that another vessel might encounter it there.
Since New York is a major tourist attraction, and the
museum is one of the most visited places there I figured
it was the best place for it." He paused a bit before
continuing, "I must say, I'm frightfully excited to meet
you."
They talked for awhile longer, Dr. Massimo suggesting a
few exercises for Alan to do to develop his powers, and
when the hour grew late Jack took his leave, suggesting
he would drop in again, but making no promises. He left
an address, care of a Swiss bank, which he told Alan
would forward any messages.
* * *
The next Saturday morning Alan was up with the birds.
Since he had been setting aside an hour each day to
exercise his Seed powers he was finding that he could get
by with about half the sleep he previously needed. There
was a club ride this morning and he decided to go. The
local bicycling club sponsored group rides every weekend
of the year, but Alan really didn't like to ride in very
cold weather, so it had been months since he last joined
a ride. As he was wheeling his bike down the driveway he
was startled by a voice. "Hello there! Hello, you on the
bike?" He looked across the road and saw a girl dressed
for cycling. She was doing stretching exercises as she
called out to him, and Alan crossed the road to talk to
her.
"Hello," she offered a gloved hand, "I'm Chloe, the
Anderson's au pair. And you are?"
"Alan, Alan Marshall. I live there," he answered,
pointing his thumb back over his shoulder to his house.
"Nice to meet you Alan Alan Marshall," she joked, and
they both grinned at each other.
"I don't think I've seen you before. Are you new?" Alan
was enjoying the conversation; Chloe's sexy British
accent was nice to listen to.
"I just started a few weeks ago. The Andersons are away
at Mrs. Anderson's mum's in Connecticut, so I'm free this
weekend. Just thought I'd take a spin around the town and
have a look. Where are you headed?"
Alan explained about the club ride. "Forget that," he
told her, "Do you want to ride with me? I'll blow off
that other thing."
"Sure," she answered, and they set off. "I hope you can
keep up with me. I'm a serious rider, unlike most of you
Americans."
"Do you want to set the pace, or shall I?" he asked back,
a small smirk evident.
"Better off you, I don't think you'd be able to keep up
with me. My chums and I ride long distances back in
England."
They mounted up and Alan led her down the road, keeping a
moderate pace. After they'd covered a couple of miles
they reached the old state highway, a thoroughfare which
saw little regular vehicular traffic, less so on the
weekends, and almost deserted on a weekend in the
morning. The road was built in the 1930s, and unlike the
new highway, which had been built three decades later, it
was unevenly graded, rolling hills and valleys of
asphalt. Alan picked up the pace and Chloe stayed with
him.
After a few more up-and-down miles he accelerated again,
popping up out of the saddle to power his way up a
particularly steep hill, or as it was called in the
parlance of cycling, "a good hill." As he neared the
crest he turned to see how Chloe was faring, and he could
see her struggle to climb the incline. She too was up out
of the saddle, and he could tell she was huffing and
puffing.
He faced forward again and shifted out of his climbing
ring into the small one. As he zipped down the hill he
cranked the pedals hard, and by the computer on his
handlebars he saw he was approaching seventy miles per
hour. Quickly coming to another hill, albeit a smaller
one, he shifted again and climbed it almost effortlessly,
his momentum helping him traverse it. He hammered on the
pedals for another couple of miles or so and then pulled
to the side of the road and waited for Chloe to catch up.
He was sitting leaned up against a tree facing the road,
his bike resting against the opposite side, taking long
pulls from his water bottle as she pulled up to him,
gasping for breath. She laid her bike on the ground
gently, walked up to him and fell to her knees in
exhaustion. He pulled a second water bottle from the rear
pocket of his racing jersey and held it out for her, and
she grabbed it from him gratefully, falling down on her
side as she did so.
She pulled the valve open with her teeth, squeezed some
water into her mouth, swished it around a bit and then
spat, immediately returning the bottle to her mouth and
sucking water like she had just crossed a desert. In less
than half a minute she had drained the whole thing, and
she just stayed down on the grass, breathing heavily,
occasionally letting loose a groan.
"Sorry about that," he said to her. She didn't answer
immediately, marshalling her energy and respiration.
"I should be apologizing to you. I thought I was teasing
you. Americans aren't supposed to be good a cycling! They
all drive cars and never exercise. You had to go and pull
a David Millar on me!"
"Figures you would pick a British cyclist!" he roared in
laughter, and she began to chuckle as well. "What I did
was more of a Jacky Durand, you know, pulling away from
the pack on a long and unadvised escape. Hey, we Yanks
can bike, or have you let Lance slip your mind?"
She had managed to pull herself upright by now and was
looking at him with interest. "So, you know a bit about
racing do you? Well, you managed to tear up the road this
morning. I haven't been dropped on a ride in more than
three years! David Millar's got nothing on you."
"Well, I wouldn't say that! I've never won a stage in the
Tour de France, nor have I worn the yellow jersey like
him. Though you know, of course, that he only wore the
yellow because of a fluke."
"You take that back!" and they both laughed. Alan pulled
two bananas from his jersey and gave her one, and they
munched in silence for a moment. As she stood up to go
back to her bike she squealed, grabbing her thigh and
collapsing to the grass. "CRAMP!"
"Do you need me to help?"
"Cheeky chap, aren't we? Trying to get near my knickers
right off the whistle, eh?" she taunted through gritted
teeth. Alan went over to her and began massaging the
bothersome thigh, and using the Seed caused her knotted
muscles to relax. "Mmmm, lovely, bloody nice." After a
short while he helped her up and they remounted their
bikes.
Alan unzipped his seat pack and pulled out a small bottle
of Tylenol, and gave her two. She popped them in her
mouth and pulled her water bottle from the cage on her
bike, and swallowed them down. "Thanks love!" she said to
him, flashing a dazzling smile.
"Do you want to keep riding, or should we head back?"
"Back, I think. Ugh! I don't fancy riding those hills
again."
"We'll go another way. Through the streets. More traffic,
less hills, but a slightly longer route OK?"
She nodded, and they were off.
* * *
"Look, I feel bad about pushing you so hard out there,"
Alan told her as they pulled onto their street, "Let a
guy take you out for breakfast?"
"Lovely, mate. Let me just shower off. Meet you at your
house in thirty?"
"Cool with me."
Half an hour later Alan watched her amble across the road
up to his door. He was waiting on the porch, having
quickly cleaned up and changed. As he watched her
approach he was taken aback by her looks. She was almost
as tall as him, probably 5'9", and she had a killer body.
He had noticed it before, when she was dressed in her
tight cycling gear, but seeing her in a pair of tight
jeans and form-fitting blouse she was absolutely
stunning. Her long blonde hair, which had been tucked
into her helmet under a bandana before, was tied in a
ponytail, and he hadn't noticed her eyes because she had
been wearing sunglasses on the ride. They were pale blue,
and gorgeous. Alan intercepted her in the driveway, and
led her to his car. They went to a coffee shop in town
and ate heartily, their appetites stoked by the ride.
"So, tell me about yourself," he asked her.
"Oh I'm just a London girl spending a wee bit in the
colonies. Figure I'll spend a half a year with the
Andersons and then see a bit of this great land of yours
before I head back home to University."
"How old are you?"
"Well, that's not a gentlemanly thing to ask a lady, you
know! But of you must know, I'm eighteen. Just finished
'high school' as you Yanks call it, and have been an au
pair here in the states since last summer. I go back in
September."
"Where were you before the Andersons?"
"I was in a small town in Pennsylvania, and I couldn't be
happier to be out of there! Thank god the mum there
decided to quit her job and send me back to the agency.
But enough about me, mate, tell me about you."
"Oh, well, there's nothing much to tell. I'm in my last
year of high school, and then I'm off to college in the
fall. Columbia in New York City, though I'm hesitant to
inform you that Columbia used to be called King's College
until we got wise and threw off the yoke of British
oppression. " She thought that was funny, and told him
she was envious. She would be willing to cut off an arm
to get the chance to live in New York City.
"So that's it? You just go to school and nothing else?
Surely there's more to you? I mean it's not everyday you
meet a guy who is both handsome and can drop a cyclist
like me. Hmmm, girlfriend?"
"There is one girl I'm seeing now."
"Tell me."
He told her about Pauline, how they were friends for many
years and then they went out for a bit, and stopped, and
then started up again recently. "That's sweet," she said.
"So, you, boyfriend?"
"Nah, not at the moment. It's frustrating you know?
Haven't had a good snog in a long time. You sleeping with
Pauline?" She figured she would get a blush out of him,
but he was nonplussed.
"Yep. Her and a few others to be truthful."
"Really. Now I am fascinated. Do tell."
"I took Pauline's virginity a few days ago, but I'm also
sleeping with her older sister, whom I have turned into a
sex slave. I'm also fucking my English teacher, and her
next-door neighbor. The two of them are also sleeping
together."
Chloe's eyes were as wide as the English Channel. She had
almost choked on her coffee, and her hands were shaking
as she returned the cup to her saucer. "What did you just
say?"
"I think you heard me right."
"How? How? How are you doing this? I mean you are a tasty
treat to look at, as I'm sure you've been told," Alan
grinned at her waiting for her to continue, "But I mean
good god man, I never would have pegged you for some sort
of a satyr."
"There's an easy explanation. I have the power to control
minds, among other powers."
"Now you're just making up stories."
"Want to see a demonstration?"
"Not likely!"
"See that waitress over there? I'll make her drop those
plates of food she's got." Chloe turned, and watched her
do it.
"That doesn't bloody prove anything!"
"What kind of proof do you need?"
"Do something to me. Me mum and I went to a hypnotist's
show once and he chose me from the crowd, and I was the
only one who he couldn't get to go under. Try me."
Alan looked at her and gave it a moment's thought. "Open
your blouse and show me your tits."
"Yeah, right, boyo!" But as she was protesting she began
to unbutton he blouse, and after she had pulled her bra
down she dropped her hands to her side. "Nice try, mate.
You didn't even try to put me under. The last chap had a
gold watch on a chain."
Alan looked at her chest, and she followed his gaze. "Oh
my stars! How did you do that?" she half-screeched as she
rearranged her bra and top to cover herself back up.
"Told you. And it's not hypnotism. It's mind control."
Chloe got silent, unable to think clearly. The waitress,
not the one Alan had used in his demonstration, came with
the bill, and he paid it. They sipped coffee for a while
and then he asked if she was ready to leave, and she
slowly rose from the booth.
"Thanks for breakfast Alan," she said as he was leaving a
tip on the table. She was still a little stunned as he
led her back to the car. As he got in next to her and was
about to start the engine she put her hand on his arm and
said, "Wait."
They sat in silence for a moment until she could finally
speak.
"I have a million questions."
"I don't know if I will be able to answer them all, but
shoot."
"How did you get these powers?" Alan gave her a very
short version of how he became a Vessel of the Seed.
"Interesting. Completely loony, but interesting. Uh, next
question. Aren't you taking a risk by telling me this?
How do you know I wont call the newspapers, tell the
vicar, what have you?"
"No risk at all. You can't tell anyone about this. I've
altered your mind to make you unable to do so." She
looked back at him with a smidgen of fear behind her
eyes.
"Are you going to, you know, force me to shag you?"
"No. Why? Do you want me to?"
She laughed a little laugh. "Truth be told, I was going
to try to get you to shag me anyway." Now it was his turn
to laugh a little laugh.
He started the car and headed back.
* * *
"So, what now?" They were standing in the Anderson's
spacious den; Chloe was barefoot, and Alan had been
admiring her pretty feet. She hadn't said much since the
coffee shop's parking lot, and Alan could see a touch on
anxiousness in her.
"What do you want?"
"I'm not sure. Are you, uh, controlling me now?"
"Not really. The command I gave you so you wouldn't
reveal my secret is a permanent one. It's like a passive
control. That's the only hold I have over you now. Why do
you ask?"
"Well, I uh, I uh feel...randy. Are you sure you're not
doing that to me?"
"Completely. Do you want me to control you?"
"Well, part of me does, and part of me does not."
"This is a really interesting conversation," he began
telling her, but she cut him off.
"You're teasing me now, aren't you, love?"
"Hah! I like it when you call me that. It's so British
and sexy." She giggled. "No, I'm not teasing you. This is
interesting because you are the first, oh, how shall I
put this, 'partner' I've ever told about my power."
"Really? I'm surprised. It's a bit of a turn on knowing
about it."
"Why?" he asked her with a note of surprise in his voice.
"Power is sexy. Someone once said it's the ultimate
aphrodisiac."
"Henry Kissinger, former Secretary of State; though in my
house he is generally agreed to be a toad-like war
criminal. We're liberals, don't you know."
"Enough politics. Let's go to my room," she told him as
she took his hand and led him to a small bedroom at the
back of the house, right off the kitchen.
"I've decided. I want you to control me," she whispered
to him as the door shut behind them.
"You don't really have a vote in the matter. For all you
know I've been controlling you since this morning."
"This may sound weird, but that's a huge turn-on."
Alan began unbuttoning her blouse, and her breath caught
in her throat. "I'm helpless to stop you, love."
"Actually you're not," he shot back, staring deeply into
her eyes.
"Well then, I'm not going to in any case," she chuckled.
Alan threw her blouse to the side and she reached behind
her back to pop the catch on her bra. She had lovely
breasts, though small-smaller even than Pauline's. Her
nipples were exquisite; very tiny, the circumference not
much greater than that of a dime, but perfectly round
aureoles, bright pink with nipples that were so pointy
they seemed conical when hard, which they were now.
"Oh my, that is nice," she purred in response to his
manipulations of her breasts. "I can't wait for you to
take off my jeans and knickers."
He was feeling her ass, and said, "Wow these jeans are
tight. It might be a task getting you out of them."
"I'm looking forward to it, boyo. Hey, you're the man
with all the powers! It shouldn't be that hard for you to
separate me from my knickers, should it?"
Alan just took a few steps back and leaned against her
dresser. She bit her tongue, afraid she had insulted him.
All of a sudden she was floating two feet in the air,
standing straight up. "My lord! What are you doing?"
"Just a little demonstration."
She felt something moving at her waist and was shocked
out of her skin to see that her pants were being
unbuttoned by an invisible hand. The zipper followed, and
in a flash her jeans lay in a ball at her feet. "Bravo!"
she called back at him.
"Do you want me to remove your panties-sorry, knickers-
this way, or in the usual manner?"
"Hmm, you decide," she giggled.
Alan concentrated and used his power to rip the panties
right off of her, the tattered remains falling beneath
her like so much confetti.
"You sexy beast!"
He floated her across the room and settled her on the
bed. He got down next to her and she leaned up at him,
kissing him, and thrusting her tongue in his mouth.
"Mmm, tasty," she purred as they disengaged. Alan put his
hand on her exposed pussy, running his fingertips through
her soft patch of brown pussy hair. "Not a natural
blonde, hmm?"
"No, love. Disappointed?"
"Not really. You are a sexy thing nonetheless." He
thought for a minute before continuing, "Do you want to
be?"
"Do I want to be what?" she asked, confused.
"A natural blonde. I can make it happen."
She thought for a second. "If I say OK, could you change
me back later?"
"You bet."
She nodded, and waited for him to do something. "Well
boyo, are you going to do it or not?"
"Already done. Look down." She did and gasped. It was
unbelievable and incredibly sexy. Not that her pussy
looked all that much more sexy with blonde hair rather
than brown, but the idea that he could affect her like
that with merely a thought was immensely arousing.
"Wow!" She didn't know what else to say. "What else can
you do?"
Alan didn't answer with words, he just fed a finger up
her pussy and ran his thumb slowly over her clit.
"Double wow!" she panted, her whole body turning an
aroused shade of pink as she ground her crotch into his
hand. "But I meant, what else can you do with your
power?"
"Patience my little British biscuit. Patience, all in
good time." He fingered her for a few minutes and she
began to huff and puff. "You look like you just biked up
a big hill, all of that gasping for breath." She managed
to laugh through her panting. He used his free hand to
undress himself, and when he got his shorts off he used
his power to make her look at his cock, and orgasm upon
catching sight of it.
"AYEEEEE! Yes! OHMYGODINHEAVEN!" Her screaming swiftly
gave way to incoherent grunting and groaning, and she
carried on for close to a minute, her body stiff and
shaking as her pussy convulsed around his finger.
She gasped and panted for a short while before she was
strong enough to speak. "My, my, my, that was lovely. Was
that you or, you know, the power?"
"Does it matter?" he asked her, again looking deep into
her pretty blue eyes.
"No," she whispered, "It doesn't. Wow. That was the
best."
"Nice to know," he told her as he ran his hands up and
down her body, causing her to become aroused again.
"Mmmm, keep that up," she purred.
"You have an incredible body."
"Thank you, but-"
"But what?"
"I've had complaints."
"Morons! What is there to complain about this magnificent
form?" His began moving his hands around with more
fervor, and Chloe began to get really excited. When he
reached her breasts she put her hands over his and held
them there.
"These. I'm flat-chested. I've actually lost boyfriends
to birds with bigger chests."
"Morons. A pretty face like yours is much more alluring
than a pair of big tits."
"Really," she gasped, returning his gaze, her eyes fixed
on his. "That's one of the nicest things a man's ever
said to me, in a weird and kinky sort of way."
"So the men in England prefer cows to goddesses?"
"Oh, stop it now. You're so bad." She said noting for a
minute, luxuriating in the feel of Alan's hands on her
body. "I'm this close to getting implants, you know. But
maybe now I wont because if you."
"Hmmm."
"What, love?"
Alan replaced his hands on her breasts. "What are you
now, an A cup?" She nodded. "How about now? A B cup. I
think, yes?" She looked down, flabbergasted at the
change.
"Oh my word!"
"Like?"
"Yeah. Not too big, and they're very pretty. Thank you."
There was a tear in her eye.
"How about a C cup?" She looked again, and they seemed
immense, but before she could say anything he had already
turned them back to a B. "C cup is too big, even though
you are very tall, you are somewhat slim, though they did
match your tight and curvy bottom." She giggled despite
her state of arousal.
He dipped a finger into her pussy, and after pulling it
out held it up to her and showed her. "I'm going to fuck
you now."
He got between her legs and put his hands under her ass,
lifting her up off the bed.
"You're so big," she hissed, staring down her body and
taking in the sight of his hard cock.
"Worried?"
"A little. I've never seen one so large before. Be
gentle, mmmmmm." He was rubbing the head of his erection
up and down her pussy lips. "It's like I'm a virgin
again."
"How old were you when you lost your cherry?"
"Ugh, ah, that's lovely! Uh, what was the question?"
He began to repeat himself, but she cut him off in mid-
sentence, "I was mmmmm sixteen, mmmmmm."
"Was it a good experience?"
"Not really. The bloke came in like ten seconds, and I
didn't get off, mmmmmm."
"Well, when I take your virginity this time you'll have a
much better time."
"What, mmmmm, uhhhhh, are you talking about 'this time?'
I'm not a virgin! Ah ah ah put it in PLEASE!"
"As a matter of fact, you are a virgin. I just used my
power to restore your hymen. I'm going to bust that
cherry, but good!"
"Oh! That's so fucking kinky. Mmmmm, ah ah yes! Take my
cherry, I love it."
Alan fed the head of his cock into her, and kept going
until the tip rested against her maidenhead.
"Oh my GOD! If I didn't know what was happening I'd be
out of my mind! Come on love, push it through!" He did
and she squealed in pain.
"OK?"
"I will be love, once you start fucking." He chuckled,
and began to saw in and out of her. Her body took on that
blush again, and she began to grunt rhythmically to his
strokes. Soon her breath became ragged, and the grunting
gave way to gasping and whimpering, and soon after she
climaxed, her body seizing up, her pussy clamping down on
its invader and releasing a copious amount of juices.
"OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, FUCK ME, YES, FUCK ME,
HARDER, YES, HARDER, YES, HARDER! PLEASE! COMING!"
He fucked her through two more screaming orgasms,
continually quickening the pace of his strokes, Chloe
constantly calling for him to fuck her with more force.
By the time he came in her, simultaneous with her third
orgasm, they were both dripping with sweat, and Chloe's
whole body had passed the mere blushing stage (a light
pink when he began to give it to her) and was now in full
crimson mode. He collapsed beside her heaving body, and
she threw her leg over his, her hands roaming over his
chest.
"That was," she paused, "Words cannot even begin to
describe." He half-turned to her and began playing with
her new breasts in a relaxed manner. She giggled. "Like
'em, huh?"
"Hey, I do nice work!" he shot back, enjoying the
shapeliness of her enhanced bust.
"That you do, love, that you do," she purred contentedly.
Next Chapter: The nosy Guidance Counselor.
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of
the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 17