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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE CLOSE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Permission to post this story on sites where access is
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intellectual property rights, Copyright (c) 2004 Janna
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Diedre
by Janna Leonard (sensuscribe3@yahoo.com)
***
An art student with a troubled past finds love entering
her life in a unique way. (FF, rom, oral, mast, toys)
***
I was almost resigned to a life of quiet desperation
accompanied by my inner demons when a small miracle
occurred. It happened when I was 19 and living in
Sanger, Missouri, home of the famous Art School.
Situated on the bluffs overlooking the Mississippi, the
2500 or so hardy residents made their living from the
faculty and students, overcharging them for almost
everything.
Typically mid-western, flat with streets laid out in
neat squares, the town consisted of 2 banks, a bowling
alley, the VFW post and assorted restaurants, bars and
gas stations. There was a library, 2 motels out by the
interstate bypass and of course the town square. If you
got bored you could always drive west for a few miles
and watch the corn grow, assuming there wasn't a
blizzard in progress.
Then there was 'The School', founded in 1890 whenever
by one Arthur Sanger, his estate providing instruction
for deserving students of the arts. Fees were based on
a person's income (in my case, nothing) and submission
of a sample of your work to determine whether you were
worthy. Sculpting, photography and painting were in the
curriculum along with sundry other things that artsy
folks do.
I'd submitted my samples and been accepted as a student
'pending an opening', and had driven down from Chicago
to see if I could find some housing I could afford and
reclaim my portfolio. It contained the best of
everything I'd done since age 14 with my camera and a
sketchpad. The housing available was limited,
overpriced and shabby, and I decided to return to Aunt
Mary's in Chicago.
On the way out of town I stopped at Betty's Place, a
Mom and Pop diner-coffee shop for a cup and a thermos
fill for the road. Betty and I got to talking and she
learned I was going to go to "The School" but needed an
affordable place to live. I found out Betty needed a
waitress to work the breakfast/lunch rush, she wasn't
quite so quick on her feet anymore, what with the
'arthritis' and all, and she offered me the job with
the apartment upstairs thrown in if I could start right
away. The apartment was three rooms, the no-phone no-
pool no-pets variety but it was clean, neat and
furnished, so I accepted.
I called Aunt Mary and told her what I'd done and she
wished me well and said if there was ever anything she
could do to give her a call. She was all that was left
of my family, Dad left a long time ago and Mom had died
on me half-way through my senior year of high school.
Aunt Mary had taken me in and helped me through the
process, signing papers in my behalf. After the
funeral, I had Mom's old car, 1800 dollars in my
checking account and a few mementos. I'd given the rest
to charity; there had been nothing worth the effort of
salvage.
Pinning my hair back, I went to work washing dishes.
Betty's husband Ben was the cook, a humorless old man
with a permanent slump to his spine. When she closed,
Betty gave me the keys to open up in the morning and a
set for the apartment. I unloaded my car and lugged it
all up the outside staircase, dropping it on the floor.
After a shower I felt better and got out my camera and
checked to see if was ready to go. It was, and I slept
the night without my usual dreams.
My first month on the job went well, the patrons liked
a pretty girl and a little sass with their morning
coffee, I got some good tips and a lot of yearning
looks from some of the younger ones. It was hot and
dress was casual, so I wore short skirts and thin tops
or shorts and sandals.
I explored the area looking for possible photo ops,
finding a few good ones. I got a library card, found
out who was the best mechanic, and changed my address
on my driver's license. Not knowing when an opening
would occur, I was on hold for the summer, saving money
and enjoying myself.
One afternoon as we were about to close, a harried-
looking man dressed in a cheap suit walked in and asked
for me. He had an Ichabod Crane face, all pinched and
narrow looking, plus the limpest handshake I'd ever had
from a man. Taking him to one of the back booths, I sat
him down and said, "I'm Diedre McGuire, what can I do
for you?"
"Uh, Miss McGuire, I'm Mr. Rawlins, I'm here to inform
you of your status with the Sanger School."
"Ok, what is it?" I asked, smiling. This guy looked
like they didn't let him out on his own very often and
I was determined to be pleasant.
"It seems that your application for this school year
has been temporarily set back," he said quietly.
"You ARE going to tell me why, right?" I asked, the
anger and depression unmistakable in my voice.
"Yes, uh, yes, I am....there were to be two openings
for the fall semester, one of which
was destined to be yours, however we've had another
application, and our criteria determined the opening
has to go to him."
"You're denying my application because I'm a GIRL?' I
said.
"No, no, that's not part of the selection
process.....I've seen some of your work, and
professionally speaking I'm sure you're qualified to
teach at least the first two units in our photography
course, but the young man in question is more rounded,
how would you say, um, more complete."
"In what way?" I asked, unbelieving that this creep was
telling me this shit.
"He sculpts and paints as well as doing some remarkable
work with his camera, and we at Sanger are duty-bound
to turn out the best product we can."
"So how long a delay can I expect?" I asked.
"We definitely will reserve a spot for you for the
spring semester, say right after Christmas?" he
replied.
"Ok," I said, "I guess I can wait until then," thankful
I had a job and a place to live.
Maybe I could add to the portfolio in the meantime.
Standing up and tucking his hanky in his front pocket,
he looked around to make sure he wasn't going to be
overheard and said, "There is one more thing I'd like
to discuss with you if I may."
"What's that?" I asked.
"The school is in need of a model for the art class, a
live model as it were, someone of your physical
description," he whispered. I knew what that meant,
this pervert wanted me to take my clothes off and
parade around the room while people sketched me nude.
I laughed and began to shake my head no, and he asked
"May I speak frankly, Miss McGuire?"
"Please do," I giggled, this clown was getting funnier
by the minute!
"Our model pool must be representative of the general
population according to the guidelines set forth by the
founder...we are in desperate need of someone with
white skin, Miss McGuire, please say you'll accept the
job," he said. Teasing him with no intention of
accepting, I asked "How much?"
"Twenty-five dollars an hour for a three hour session
twice a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays," he replied.
'Wow' I thought, being naked pays pretty good, and he
had my full attention as he continued "I'm sure we
could arrange a stipend for accommodations as well if
you need a place to stay."
I pointed in the air and said "I live here, thanks
anyway."
"Then you'll accept?" he asked, a very hopeful look on
his face. I sat not speaking for a few moments,
letting him stew. I'd never done it, but the cash
involved could go a long way toward improving my
lifestyle.
"Ok, " I said, thinking if I didn't like it I could
always quit.
He almost danced a little jig he was so happy, the grin
widening his narrow face to his earlobes. "Come to the
admissions office tomorrow and there'll be someone to
take you to the class," he said.
"What time?" I asked.
"Oh yes, class is from two until five, say one-thirty?"
"I'll be there," I said, smiling once again. It didn't
take much to make this guy happy I thought, as I shook
his hand and said goodbye.
He left and Betty said "Who was that?"
"Some guy from the school, my application has been
delayed," I replied.
"Oh no," she said, frowning.
"That's ok, he offered me a job too," I smiled. We
arranged for me to leave right after lunch on the days
I'd be modeling, and I assured Betty that I'd continue
to work for her and keep the apartment. That afternoon
after work, I showered and looked at myself in the
mirror, checking my body. I considered myself average,
5 feet 9, size 8 shoe, slender with some curves in the
right places. I knew I wasn't cute or beautiful, and
pretty was a word not usually used to describe me. My
breasts still carried the stretch marks from my growth
spurt in puberty. They'd gone from nipples to a B cup
almost overnight, then hovered there on my chest,
waiting for the rest of me to catch up. Tight and sore,
they got in the way with everything I tried to do until
I got used to their presence. I'd acquired hips, too,
and I missed my skinny little butt.
My skin was ok, pale and likely to burn in the sun, a
few freckles on my chest and face, nothing remarkable
there. My hair was long and reddish gold, thick and
naturally curly, I brushed it every day and it gleamed.
My bush was sparse, you could see the lips of my slit
through it. I shaved my legs and underarms
infrequently, it didn't seem to grow very fast. All in
all not a bad sight, but to me still average. I sighed,
got dressed and drove around looking for something to
photograph for the rest of the day.
Tuesday I arrived on time and was shown to the building
where the class would be. Ushered into a small room
next to the classroom, I was told to undress, put on my
robe and wait for the instructor. It was hot and there
wasn't much to take off, so I was ready in two minutes.
A man in jeans and a tank top entered smiling and
introduced himself as Mr. Benson, shaking my hand and
welcoming me.
"Have you ever done this before?" he asked.
Shaking my head no, he nodded and said "It's really
very simple... the students are not allowed to touch
you or talk to you, I call for various poses as
required and you hold them as best you can until they
finish.... if you need a break or a stretch, tell me."
I said, "Ok," and he replied "Let's get started then,
shall we?"
I followed him into the main room, a large open area
with a platform in the center. A pedestal and a slanted
board with a cushion were on the platform, with a half-
dozen or so students standing around it, their easels
nearby. He motioned for me to climb the platform steps,
telling me to sit on the pedestal. I was nervous, but
Mr. Benson took charge and said "Listen up people, this
is Diedre, our new model... we're doing charcoal today,
I want a separate page for each pose and go easy on the
detail.... I'm looking for perspective, ok?"
Mumbles of assent were heard and he said, "Alright
Diedre, put your feet on that little ledge right there
and put your hands in your lap, keep your back straight
and look out the window." I shrugged out of the robe
and did as I was told as the students started to work.
I heard the quiet sounds of charcoal being rubbed
against paper and cleared my mind, being as still as I
could. My nipples reacted to being uncovered and I
flushed slightly, wondering how they would look on
paper.
I changed poses several times, the hardest ones being
unsupported by anything to lean on or hold to. No one
talked much, and Mr. Benson walked around the room,
looking at the results and critiquing each students
work as it progressed. Later, Mr. Benson said "That's
it for the day, thank you," and I picked up the robe
and returned to my dressing room. I heard a knock as I
was putting on my sandals and said, "Come in."
Mr. Benson walked in and handed me an envelope saying
"Thank you." I looked inside and saw cash in various
bills and said "You're welcome." I must have had a
questioning look on my face because Mr. Benson said "We
always pay at the end of each session, some girls only
do it once and never come back," laughing softly.
"Oh, I'll be back, it wasn't as hard as I thought it
would be," I said, grinning.
"You did well, I'm looking forward to seeing you
again," he replied and walked out, leaving me to finish
dressing and let myself out.
I walked home, considering my future. The money was
good, I had two jobs, the delay in entering the school
didn't look so bad after all. It looked like the rest
of the summer I could add to my bank account and my
portfolio, gaining experience along the way. The summer
classes were small and I got to know most of them by
name as they talked to me after class, inviting me to
various places for coffee or something stronger. I
politely declined, telling them I was too busy. Betty
took an interest in me, sharing a portion of her life
and the local history in our talks. One day she said
"You see that man over there in the green cap drinking
his coffee, chatting with them other fellas?"
I nodded yes and she said "He's a pretty good catch,
that one... has a big farm out on the west side, never
been married, has buckets of money... girl could do
worse." Thinking that somebody was going to find out
anyway, it was time I trusted her with some personal
information. I said "I ain't wired that way."
"Hmm," she replied, turning and wiping the counter.
Nothing more was ever said, so I relaxed and went about
my business. I only worked mornings, posing took up two
afternoons a week, so I had a lot of time on my hands.
Aunt Mary sent the last of my things, 2 old steamer
trunks full of stuff I didn't use often but was too
important to throw away. The trunks also contained many
memories, some wonderful and some painful.
I unpacked some of the photos and placed them around my
rooms to remind me of the nice and good things I had
shared with the people in them. There was Lisa, the
first girl I kissed, and Brenda....what a girl! Bold,
brassy and loud, she was the one who taught me how to
kiss, and Noelle, the sweet little blonde. We shared
many firsts, but our relationship was cut short by
being found in her bed by her mother, not a good thing.
Neither was getting caught by the gym teacher with
Lisa's panties in my nose and my other hand in my
shorts when I was supposed to be outside playing
soccer.
I believe my dreams, the scary ones at least, are
driven by those memories. I always woke up from the bad
ones tangled in the bedclothes unable to move, sweating
and terrified. I knew I was different from a young age,
possibly 7 or 8, but I didn't know in what way. I liked
boy things, I liked girl things, I thought I was normal
or just like everyone else.
Getting to high school and being in the showers after
gym changed all that. It taught me that I was attracted
to females for one, why else would my little coo leak
and itch when I saw them naked? It also enhanced my
drawing, being able to burn an image in your mind for
hours until you can use pen and ink to duplicate what
you saw is a useful talent.
I wasn't interested in being a man or dressing like
one, I liked being female once I got used to my tits,
but I wanted something more and I didn't know what. I
went to the library and read about voyeurism and
lesbians, deciding about the age of 15 that I was both.
No amount of threats or tears from my Mother could
change my mind, nor did the counselor from the
school.....she said I'd grow out of it. The name
calling and ostracism from my classmates hurt though,
I'd known some of them since we were toddlers. The few
girls who were open about their sexual preference I
avoided, mainly because I didn't think they wanted love
or sex the same way I did.
Now I was away from all that, the only reminder my
memories and dreams, and I was on the path to success.
I got busy on my time off, driving around and sticking
my nose everywhere. Betty told me the local Lover's
Lane was an old quarry west of town a few miles, so I
went there and took some pictures of kids either
skinny-dipping or necking.
There were a few who came there often, and as I'd see
them in town clerking at the hardware store or bagging
groceries I'd smile my knowing smile, thinking I had
pictures of that sweet innocent doing things her
parents wouldn't approve of. There was never any
question of blackmail, I took the pictures to capture
private moments in other people's lives, unknown and
unseen. I tanned there myself, there were lots of nooks
and crannies among the rocks that were private and
quiet.
Fall arrived and with it many more students, the
classes got larger overnight, filling the room. I
watched some of the other models work to get better, 2
of the guys were almost scary in their ability to hold
a pose without moving. The girls were almost as good,
and the differences in their bodies was remarkable.
One was barely 5 feet tall, the other had to go 6 foot
4. I liked the tall one, Angie, she always smiled at me
when I watched her work. Her bodybuilder poses were a
work of art by themselves.
My miracle happened one day in October, Leah showed up
with her easel and supplies to join the class. I was
stricken!! You know the feeling your heart gets when
the elevator drops from the 90th to the 5th floor
without stopping?
That was mine that day, I had to concentrate on not
moving an inch with each pose, I was fidgety and
nervous and I didn't even know her name! Compact and
very pretty with dark hair, her eyes made contact with
mine several times, bringing a smile to her face as she
worked. She wore short dress with sandals, her shoulder
length hair clipped back. When the session was over I
hurriedly dressed and went outside, hoping to catch her
and introduce myself, but she was gone.
I went home and masturbated quickly, finding little
relief for my feelings. I paced the apartment,
unwilling to wait for the next session to see her
again. I drove around the local student hangouts and
didn't spot her, so I went back home and showered,
falling into bed and enduring the night without much
sleep. The next day I was preoccupied and gave the
wrong order to 3 different people, Betty asking me
"What's wrong, hon?" Concentrating on my work, I
finished the day without further mistakes and sat down
for coffee after we locked the door.
Betty sat with me as Ben cleaned the grill and said
"You're not yourself today, anything wrong?" I sighed
and told her "I'll be ok, I saw somebody yesterday that
took me by surprise."
"Somebody from your past?" she asked.
"From my future, I hope," I smiled at her.
"Aaahhhh," she grinned, understanding.
That night I took a pill to help me sleep, managing a
few hours of restlessness. I worked for Betty and
didn't goof up, then ran upstairs to shower and get
ready for my session. I put on a little makeup to hide
my tired eyes and drove to the school, anxious and very
nervous.
Once on the platform and in my first pose, I relaxed
and did what I was being paid to do. I saw her again
and she smiled at me as I changed poses, adjusting my
drape to cover one breast. When the session ended I
hesitated for a few seconds and we made eye contact.
She mimed drinking coffee, pointing at herself and then
to me with a grin on her face. I nodded yes and hurried
to dress, waiting outside the classroom for her to
appear. She came out of the door, setting her case at
her feet and smiled at me. "Hi, I'm Leah, you wanna go
for coffee or something?" she asked.
"Sure," I replied, "there's a nice place open all night
out by the Interstate."
"I don't know my way around very well, why don't I
follow you?" she asked.
I said "Ok," and walked to my car, unbelieving of my
good fortune.
The diner was uncrowded and quiet, and I asked for two
in smoking when the hostess came out. As the hostess
was leading us to our booth, I hung back and watched
her butt as she walked, the slight sway of her hips
making my mouth water. There was nothing but her under
the dress! We sat and I introduced myself as we ordered
coffee.
The next few hours were happy and full ones as we
talked and shared information. She was Leah Watson,
daughter of Harold, as in Watson Industries Inc. of St.
Louis. Well-off, she wanted to learn what she could
about art with the idea of opening a gallery sometime
in the future. 21, never married, she was the apple of
Daddy's eye and it showed. Her car was new and foreign,
a convertible no less, and the dress she wore was
expensive.
The conversation turned personal about 7 o'clock over a
meal, she said didn't want to go back to her apartment
and cook. "So, you have a boyfriend?" she asked.
"Nope," I replied.
"What do you do for fun?" she asked.
"Take pictures, hang out," I said.
"I love your punaani," she said softly.
"My what?" I giggled.
"Your center, your essence, the thing that makes you
female," she replied.
"Oh, that," I said, my voice low.
"Yes, that.... I looked at it the first day I saw you,
you know." she stated.
"And?" I asked.
"And it doesn't look like you use it very much," she
smiled.
True, it was small, almost hairless and the lips didn't
hang out of it like some girls I knew, but it had been
well-used for years.
Nevertheless I blushed and said, "Well, I do."
"By yourself?" she asked, a doubtful look on her face.
I nodded and she said, "I would've thought a pretty
girl like you could find all kinds of help in that
department."
"I'm picky," I said, forking a mouthful of salad. She
nodded and continued eating, the conversation on hold,
my mind and hers churning with the possibilities.
Finished, the waitress took our plates and we poured
another cup of coffee, sitting in silence as we
measured each other. Finally she asked "Have you ever
been with another woman?" My heart rate went up to 125
and I nodded yes, unable to trust my voice.
"Will you come with me?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
She paid our bill and as we walked to the parking lot,
she took my hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze.
"Lets drop off your car and we'll ride in mine," she
said. I agreed and got in, praying the damn thing
would start. I led her back to my place and parked,
running to open the door to her car. She grinned as I
sat down and drove quickly down the street, putting her
hand on my thigh when she reached fourth gear. She was
aimed in the general direction of the river, where all
the most expensive places were located and I wished
that I'd worn something other than my normal cotton
panties and bra. 'Too late now', I thought as we pulled
into the driveway of a small house.
Parking in front of the garage, she got out and walked
to the front door with me close behind. She keyed it
and walked in, turning on the outside light. I looked
around as she took my coat and I slipped off my shoes,
curling my toes in the deep carpet. The leather couch
was grey and looked comfortable. "Make your self at
home, I'll be right back," she said as she walked into
another room.
I needed to pee but it would have to wait. I glanced
around the room, seeing a lot of family photos and a
nice record collection. If her Father was paying for
all this, he certainly wasn't a cheapskate.
She came back from wherever she'd gone and I did a
double take, she wasn't wearing anything but panties,
very small panties at that. Her breasts jiggled a
little as she came to me and said "Are you comfortable
enough, I said to make yourself at home," laughing.
"I need to pee," I said, unbuttoning my blouse.
She took my hand and led me to the bathroom, saying
"I'll be on the couch."
I finished my business and took off the rest of my
clothes except my panties and went back to the living
room. She had opened a bottle of wine and poured two
glasses, sitting there as demurely as you please,
straight backed and legs together. I accepted the glass
and took a sip, gazing at her body. Breasts, A cup plus
a bit with dark nipples, aureoles full and wrinkled.
Stomach flat and smooth, legs ditto, toenails painted a
bright pink. 'Oh God, am I dreaming?' I thought.
"Better?" she asked, drinking from her glass. "Yes,
thank you," I replied, taking a sip from my own.
"Do you believe in love at first sight?" she asked.
"Sometimes," I replied. I wanted her in the worst way,
but my fears were raging in the back of my mind,
wondering whether this was a ploy designed to get me to
admit I was a lesbian and then broadcast it to the
world. That would probably mean my modeling job was
gone, AND the chance to study at the school. I waited
for her to speak again, uncertain of her motives.
"I do," she said, putting her glass on the coffee table
and scooting closer to me, rubbing my knees. Her hands
slid up my thigh onto my ribcage and cradled the bottom
of my breasts, the fingertips brushing my already firm
nipples. She pinched them gently and said "So
beautiful." My mind told me 'Full speed ahead and damn
the torpedoes' as I did the same, leaning forward in
search of her mouth.
I kissed her like Brenda taught me, soft and warm with
a little bit of tongue and she inhaled, "Ooh my Gooo-
dd!" as she wriggled closer, pushing me down. Her hands
were everywhere at once, stroking and smoothing,
pinching and kneading, raising my blood pressure. I
helped her get my underwear off and she buried her face
in my crotch, kissing and mumbling, licking here and
there, sucking me in occasionally.
My clit usually stays buried pretty deep inside the fat
lips of my puss, I dig it out with my finger and rub it
from underneath, but that night the little booger stood
right up and yelled "Suck me!" when her tongue looked
for it. I think I felt three knuckles as she sucked my
clit and slipped two fingers inside, probing, massaging
the walls. Her tongue was everywhere at once while her
fingers probed deep, and as the fingers pushed up
toward my pubic hair I came without warning, intense
and frightening with its speed and power. "Aiii....
oooh... gaaaaa, Leah! Eeeeeeeeeaaah!" I cried, my
stomach cramping into a huge knot as it hit.
"Mmmph... mmph.... mmph," I groaned as the contractions
continued unabated, dimming my vision and leaving me
breathless. I pushed out, believing I could feel her
mouth on my cervix, thinking 'this must be what it
feels like to give birth', rocking and moaning all the
while. She held me close and never let me escape,
licking and sucking my labia as my clit slipped back,
my heels drumming on her back and shoulders.
A few aftershocks hit me as she continued to lick me,
sucking my labia deep in her mouth and murmuring
"Mmmmmmmmmmm." I relaxed and started to come down,
figuring it was my turn, so I pulled her upright and
pushed her back down on the couch, aiming for her
nipples. The feel of a nipple hardening in my mouth is
incredibly erotic and it was no different that night.
They feel like warm grape-sized raisins and have a
smell all their own. Kissing and licking my way down, I
smelled her through her panties, sucking the wet cloth.
Raising her hips, she moaned as I pulled her panties
off, sucking them dry. She opened her legs and I moved
between them, getting my first good look at her sex.
She put a pillow under her butt and I gazed at the
folds and creases of her, licking here and there to
taste her. Her clit hood filled a third of her slit,
the whitish-pink knob sticking out a fraction of an
inch. The brown edges of her inner lips hung down away
from her hair, thick and fat with her excitement. Her
center was bright pink with milky fluid everywhere,
slippery and sweet. I dipped my tongue in it and licked
upward, swallowing twice on the way. She moaned, "Oh
yes, nani, more, please more." And I continued, sucking
the lips and kissing her inner thighs, my thumb gently
rubbing her clit. Two fingers went in easily and I
probed, pulling up to find her spot.
Her clit grew, the tip with its tiny crease looking
exactly like a penis. I sucked it, rolling it with my
tongue and her scream startled me as she clamped down
on my fingers like a vise. "Oh God! Oh God! Yes! Yes,
yes, nani, there, aaaaaiiiiii!! Oh yes!" she cried, the
contractions squeezing my knuckles every few seconds. I
held her butt and sucked her clit until it disappeared,
listening to her groan with delight at my efforts. The
spasms slowed, then stopped and I removed my fingers,
licking her labia to get the last of her tangy taste.
I moved to hold her and we kissed for a time, lost in
the joy of sex and sweat and closeness. I was sucking
on her nipples again when she took my hand and put it
back between her legs, pushing two fingertips inside
and rolling her hips upward.
"Can you.... again?" she asked.
"Mmm-Hmm," I murmured, adding another finger and
pushing them deep.
"Aaaaaaahhhh, God I need it so bad!" she whimpered as
my hand delved inside.
She reached down and straightened my little finger
adding it to the other three, then grasped my wrist and
pulled toward her body, grunting with the effort to
keep her head up.
"Tuck in your thumb," she moaned, and I finally
understood she wanted my hand inside her completely.
She lifted her legs, holding them up behind her knees
and said "Push."
With me applying a steady pressure, my hand slowly
disappeared inside. As my knuckles passed the ring of
muscles at the entrance she screamed again, the suction
pulling me in to the wrist. I made a fist and rotated
my hand, my knuckles bumping her cervix as I gently
pumped it in and out. She came, the velvet glove of her
vagina compressing my hand in waves as she moaned and
cried "Oh gaaawwwd! YES! That's good, more, more,
please more!"
I twisted my wrist and pulled out part way, stretching
her wide and watching her clit throb, dripping on my
arm. My other thumb stroked it a few times and she came
yet again, moaning deep in her throat, a guttural sound
that scared me a little. That one passed and I went
deep, her womb brushing the back of my hand on each
stroke as I pushed to the limit. All the way in, hold
and slowly out repeated several times brought another
one, by far the most powerful as she gripped my hand so
it couldn't move.
Totally silent, her body vibrated with it, the toes of
her feet curled back almost to the arch. My hand was
sore, the knuckles cramped and confined as the waves
squeezed and squeezed, slowing at last to relieve the
pressure. She held my wrist and lowered her legs to the
floor, gasping for air. The pillow beneath her ass was
soaked as I folded my hand and gently pulled it out,
starting her legs quivering. I rested my hand on her
thigh calming her, and laid down beside her for a kiss.
Her head lolled and she was at the edge of
consciousness, but she smiled and said "Wonderful!" as
I nuzzled her neck. Her recovery took a half-hour,
during which I explored other parts of her anatomy. I
rolled her over and kissed her cheeks and the dimples
just above, inhaling her clean scent. I wanted more, I
couldn't get enough of this woman! I played with her
feet, massaging, sucking a toe now and then, getting
girlish giggles and "That tickles!" from her. Please
God I prayed, don't let this end.
Drained of the sexual tension and immensely happy, I
lay with her on the couch, caressing her breasts. Firm
and high, they were warm to the touch, moving only
slightly as I manipulated them with my hand. "You mind
if I call you 'nani, my sweet?" she asked. Remembering
that it was her pet name for my puss, I laughed and
said "No, of course not." "Every couple needs something
special of their very own, and I can call you that
anywhere and no one but us will know.....would you like
sharing that with me?" she asked. "Very much," I
sighed, kissing her softly.
We took a shower, a long languid one, washing and
rinsing each other, pausing now and then for a kiss or
a hug. She liked closeness, her hand or fingers were
constantly touching me, smoothing a nipple or cupping a
butt cheek. I felt that she wanted the same things I
did, tenderness and love, affection without limits, sex
without rules. Time would prove me right.
Chapter 2
I gave Betty a 4 week notice the next day, continuing
to work for her and using the apartment to change
clothes and shower. Most of my things were moved to
Leah's at her insistence, and I worked out of her
house, sharing the household duties and cooking for
her. The modeling sessions were moments of
anticipation, we could be together in public and I
could show myself to her, knowing that later that night
she would be frantic with desire, tugging at my
clothing and moaning "Hurry, hurry!"
Christmas break came and we enjoyed a couple of weeks
without anything to do outside the house. I began to do
as she did, moving about the house nude if we didn't
expect visitors, doing the necessary chores in freedom.
I met her Father Christmas day, smiling my thank you at
the gifts he'd brought us. He complimented me on the
delicious meal, making me blush and stammer like a
school girl. Sitting on the couch sharing a bottle of
Champagne, he asked if we'd open his presents.
Giggling, I tore the wrapper and saw a small white box,
almost identical to Leah's. "Daddy, you shouldn't
have," she cooed as she opened it and saw a ring. A
gold band with the initials "LD" engraved around the
inset single diamond, it was beautiful! When I opened
mine and realized mine was like hers, I started crying
and couldn't stop.
When I finally managed to quit blubbering like an
idiot, I took a big drink of Champagne and said "Thank
you!" slipping it on my finger. "You're entirely
welcome, Diedre," he replied. I sat and stared at my
ring, a sure sign of commitment on both our parts,
wondering if I could live up to the faith he'd placed
in me.
"I know all about you," he said, "even what you did in
high school.....that's in the past and it will remain
there unless you decide to share it with someone other
than Leah." I flushed, the unpleasant reminder a mild
damper on my emotions. "When Leah called me and told me
about you, I investigated a little. It didn't take much
to discover all I needed to know," he calmly said. "I
rose from nothing," he said, "clawing my way up and
working 16 hour days to provide for my family."
Nodding his head in Leah's direction he said "This one
I've known about since she was a week old, and when her
Mother died she took a part of me with her.... since
then, I've tried to shield Leah from some of life's
problems, and so far I've been successful.... I think I
still am." "So you don't mind?" I whispered, tight with
anxiety, waiting for his answer. "Mind!?" he laughed,
"Hell, I approve!!....you two make a nice looking
couple, there should be more people who love each other
as much as you two!"
Relieved, I leaned back and closed my eyes, getting a
pat on the knee from him and a kiss on the cheek from
Leah. They discussed finances while I sat and drank the
bubbly, content and relaxed. He left and Leah and I
cleaned up, removing our clothes and sharing a kiss
before getting to work. I thought it was time to open
my past and my soul to her, so when we were finished I
opened my trunk. She brought a bottle of brandy, and
over the next few hours I told her everything, pointing
to the people in the photographs and telling her what
each of them had meant to me.
I spared nothing, even the embarrassing stuff, and when
I was done she said "I wish I had a trunk like yours so
I could share with you." She shared what she
remembered, telling me of Sarah, Andrea and some
others, reliving her firsts and tender moments from
each. We were pleasantly drunk when we finished, and
she said "I want to marry you."
"Government don't allow us that," I said.
"I know," she said, standing up and pulling me toward
the bedroom. She lit a candle, sat on the bed and
motioned for me to join her. Sitting cross-legged, the
sight of her puss was getting me horny but she said "Be
serious now, this is important."
She took my hand and pointed to my ring. "See this?"
she asked.
"Yes," I replied.
"It's different from mine," she said. I looked closely,
and she was right. Mine had "DL" engraved around the
diamond. "Repeat after me," she said. "I Leah pledge my
heart."
"I Diedre pledge my heart."
"To the one I love."
"To the one I love."
"Neither before the other but always equal."
"Neither before the other but always equal."
"As long as I shall live."
"As long as I shall live."
The silence in the room was absolute, I thought I heard
her heart beating in her chest. I'm sure she thought
the same, the look on her face was priceless. "I love
you with all my heart, sweet 'nani," she softly
whispered.
"I love you, Leah," was the best I could manage, the
tears had started and they promised to be in full flood
within seconds. We held each other and cried quietly
for almost an hour, united in joy and happiness. There
was no sex that night, we were too exhausted. There
weren't any dreams for me, either.
I continued to model for Mr. Benson's class, he
understood us and went out of his way to be kind and
gracious. When one of the other girls quit, he even
offered the job to Leah, getting her reluctant refusal.
"I couldn't be that close to you and not touch you,"
she'd said afterward, explaining to me why she'd
refused. Calm and happy, serene in my company on
campus, she was guarded and wary when out on the town.
I knew that feeling well, I'd lived a secret for years,
and it was nice to have at least one place where we
could be open about our relationship. She seemed to
have no limits whatever in the bedroom, which pleased
me greatly. She wasn't interested in the thrill of
conquest, she was driven to enjoy me and thrill me,
pushing me to my limits just to see where they were.
(I'd never had 9 orgasms in a row before!!)
We studied too, but the majority of the work was done
in class with only a little reading to do on the side.
I did the cleaning and cooking through the week and
Leah took the weekends, spoiling me rotten in the
process. I couldn't do my own nails or hair, if I
wanted to shave anything I had to tell her first.
She'd do it for me, that look on her face with her
tongue tip in the corner of her mouth, concentrating.
One night as I was doing laundry she caught me with her
panties against my nose, inhaling her sweet scent and
looking forward to bedtime. She laughed and asked
"Smell bad, do they?" "No," I said, " they smell just
like you, passionate and sweet," I blushed.
What is the smell of passion?
Musk, tang, a hint of sugar maybe? I've always been
aroused by her smell at full throttle, it makes me weak
in the knees.
Summer came along with the hot weather, and I asked for
and got a leave from my modeling job with a guarantee
I'd be able to return in the fall. Leah's Dad visited
for a couple of days, asking if we wanted to go
anywhere for a vacation. Leah said no, I agreed
thinking I couldn't afford my half, and we let it go.
Leah suggested we travel by car to a few places, like
Chicago and St Louis, maybe Indianapolis, catching the
sun and some scenery on the way. If I could be alone
with her, I didn't care where we were. We spent a day
in St Louis, had lunch with her Dad, she drove me
around the neighborhood and showed me her grade school
and some other things. Evening saw us in a motel across
the river in Illinois, preparing for bed.
Out of the blue she said "I love you, you know that?"
"Yes, I love you too," I replied, brushing my hair. She
got behind me and took away the brush, working my hair
and freeing the tangles from the shower. She sucked
gently on my neck and whispered "I want you, NOW!"
You don't have to ask me twice," I giggled as I jumped
on the bed and spread my legs.
"Take me, I'm yours!" I cried, holding out my arms.
Lovemaking that night was slow and thorough, I fell
asleep thinking I'd melted into the bed.
Chicago was nice, the Museum of Science and Industry,
the Art Museum (we could have spent weeks in there) and
the lake, particularly the beach. On a whim we parked
and put on our suits, spending a few hours tanning on
the sand. 4 nights later we left and drove south toward
Indianapolis, stopping for one meal. There wasn't much
there that we wanted to see, so we continued south and
visited the campus of Indiana U. at Bloomington. Our
motel had a hot-tub place next door, and we spent a
relaxing hour naked in 103 degree water.
Returning to Sanger a couple of days later, we dumped
our bags in the utility room, showered and hit the bed,
sleeping almost 18 hours straight. Most of the summer
was spent in the same way, going to nearby places
instead of cities, and enjoying the company. Our sex
life improved, we could sense what the other needed at
any given time, and I got fucked for the first time in
July. We'd gone to the quarry and sunned ourselves,
making love twice among the rocks. For some reason I
was still horny, and over supper I said so. She smiled
and said "We'll take care of that."
In the bedroom she opened a drawer and took out a
package with a realistic looking rubber penis inside.
"This will fix you," she smiled as she strapped it on.
I didn't think it would fit, it wasn't that big around
but it would be the first time anything but fingers had
been in there. I trusted her though, and willingly
positioned myself on my back with my knees up and legs
wide. We kissed and played for a few minutes, getting
me warm and wet, then she rubbed the tip of it against
my slit, coating it with my juices.
I flinched as she moved forward a little and put the
tip inside the entrance, opening me. I could feel it's
presence, hard and soft at the same time, so unlike her
finger. "Relax, nani, I won't hurt you," she said, and
I tried, breathing deep. It slid in and bumped my
cervix, surprising me at how easy it was. I felt full,
gapped open and vulnerable. "Nice?" she asked.
"Oh yes!" I said, enjoying the feelings. She started
pumping in and out slowly, increasing her tempo
gradually until her hips were moving steadily, her
breathing rapid and shallow. Her thumb worked on my
clit and I could feel an orgasm coming on, building
slowly. "Squeeze it!" she said, "It'll make you come!"
I did and the pressure increased along with the heat,
my glow increasing ten-fold. I came, yelling "Aaah!
God! Yes, yes, yes, yes!!" and she slammed it deep with
each grunt from me. I held her hips and pulled her to
me with each stroke, riding the waves of it and
grunting loudly.
It slowed and ended, too soon for me I thought, and she
lay on me, kissing my face and murmuring, the cock
still buried deep. "You like?" she asked. "Mmmmm," I
managed. "Roll over," she said, somehow knowing that it
hadn't been enough. Our legs and bodies struggled to
keep it inside as we turned over, moving one leg at a
time until I was flat on my face with my butt high in
the air. She positioned me just right and began to pump
again, this time going deeper, holding my hips.
I squeezed and felt the new one coming on the heels of
the first, gathering speed. I rocked back against her
with each stroke, willing it to go deep. I started to
come, this time a warm glow beginning inside my body
and spreading quickly from my puss to my toes and
nipples.
"Aaaaah," I breathed, "yaah! Yaaah! Oh yes, yes, yes,
oh god yes!" I screamed as her thumb plunged into my
rectum, sending me over the edge into oblivion. She
stroked me quick and shallow, then slow and deep, her
thumb ever present in my ass and I couldn't stop
coming. One after another the contractions hit and
rolled, making me breathless. I lost count after three
and let her do as she wished, my face numb and my
nipples hard with excitement.
She held it deep without moving toward the last,
letting my 'nani grapple it as the contractions
lessened and stopped. I moved down to lie on the bed,
feeling the thing slip out with an audible slurp,
satisfied and weak. I didn't move, not wanting to lose
the feelings inside. She removed it and lay beside me,
kissing me and stroking my hair, folding her leg over
mine for the contact I craved. Later we remade the bed
and showered before going to sleep curled against each
other tight. We christened our penis "Malcolm", after
one of the teachers.
The school year started and I began modeling again,
proudly wearing my ring and uncaring of other's
opinions. Leah did the same, confident at last even in
town. I wanted to love this woman for the rest of my
life, joyful at the attention she paid me and willing
to do anything I could to make her happy. That's not to
say we didn't argue, we did, particularly about my car.
The old wreck was on it's last legs and she wanted me
to have a newer one. I didn't want her to spend the
money on me, preferring she saved it for something she
wanted. I finally gave in, after she told that a car
for me WAS what she wanted.
We graduated the following June, her Dad taking rolls
of film of us dressed in our caps and gowns. I didn't
tell him that we were almost naked under them, with
only garter belts holding up our stockings, and high
heels on our feet.
Leah and I opened a small gallery on Prudhomme Street
in St Louis, taking the 9 room apartment upstairs as
our living quarters. Her Dad hired movers to help and
furnished the place with whatever we wanted, insisting
we have only the best available. We stock prints and
some sculpture, plus lots of pen and ink drawings, the
products of some of the students. We make enough to get
by, happy at being able to do what we love.
We still use Malcolm and other things, but the best of
our relationship is the closeness I feel with her. I
can say anything to her and she will understand, and
she knows she can do the same with me. A kiss in the
mornings when we start our day, another over lunch,
perhaps one or two before dinner, I live for the
intimacy of the moments we share. Watching her move
around the gallery or in the apartment gives me a tight
feeling in my chest as if my heart will burst if I
don't touch her, confirming she is real. I haven't had
any dreams in a long, long time.
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 30