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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
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Encounters - 5
by OneMan (mararch@pacbell.net)
***
My God, she thought, laying half sprawled on the
rumpled bed, he made breakfast. He actually made me
breakfast. And not just some pop up toaster thing or a
bowl of cereal. But eggs, toast, the works. And served
it up to me right here in bed.
She rolled her head slightly to where the door stood
open to the front portion of the dwelling and listened
to the light, distant clinking of the plates as he
rinsed them of the warm, soapy foam and placed them in
the dish rack beside the kitchen sink.
A small, wicked smile pulled at the corners of her lips
as she recalled the last time dishes had been done the
night before and what had occurred to totally wreck her
ability to concentrate of the task. Should she slip up
behind him right now and…?
No, she felt too good. Too cozy and relaxed to move.
She wanted to just lay there and savor the awareness of
the weight of her limp body as it seemed almost to sag
against the soft, enfolding surface of the mattress on
which she lay.
So far, she thought, idly, this had been one incredible
night and morning. Not at all what anyone in their
right mind, and an ability to walk straight, would call
typical, she considered, giggling quietly at the
flashes of memory that flitted through her thoughts.
It had been wicked beyond conception, nasty and
delicious and full of a strange, wondrous mix of sexual
eruption and mind gripping anticipation that still
wasn’t completely sated. After all, she told herself,
my poor pussy still hasn’t gotten any real attention
yet.
The thought caused her to experience another clutching
tingle from deep inside herself and she groaned, as if
complaining about some sort of unwanted attention, even
as she allowed her hand to slide down lazily over her
stomach and slipped between her parted thighs.
With a comfortable, studied, familiar sense of comfort
she slipped her finger between the still moistened lips
of her sex and found her clit, lazily beginning to
brush it with practiced, easy skill.
What if he finishes and comes back, she thought, a
momentary flicker of concern dancing over her. He’ll
see me doing this. He’ll see me playing with myself.
This new idea of him observing her in this most wanton
act of self-pleasuring sent a strong ripple of arousal
and pleasure through her, the sensation boiling up from
her loins and warming her belly, flowing into her
nipples and causing her to shudder slightly where she
lay.
She sighed deeply and felt a sudden desire to hear the
water stop running and to know that he was about to
come down the short hallway and catch sight of her
engaged in this wonderful, wicked, wanton activity.
He’s going to catch me, he’s going to see, she thought
hard, feeling a sudden rush of tingling, the idea of
herself, splayed on the bed, naked and tickling her
lust up as if consumed and controlled by her own flesh
shooting an ever stronger jolt of pleasure through her.
She closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself as he
would see her, her slim, smooth form, all woman, all
lust, wantonly teasing herself into a slowly boiling
frenzy. What will he do, she thought, when he spies me.
Will he go rigid and stare in stunned silence? Will he
reach and begin to stroke himself, answering my self-
imposed surrender with his own? Will he wait until I’ve
climaxed before approaching or –
She heard the faint rustle from near the door and
sucked in a sharp breath, the understanding crashing
through her that he was there, in the room, seeing her
and moving toward her. A part of her wanted to wrench
her eyes open and rock her head, lock onto him, see his
face, drink in his reaction. But another part imagined
a kind of involuntary blindness had seized her, leaving
her naked, helpless and vulnerable to whatever he might
be driven to perform upon her.
Then she felt the weight of him pushing down on the bed
beside where she lay and a chilled shudder rushed
through her, forcing a tiny whine from her throat. He’s
kneeling, she realized. Kneeling beside me, as if in
prayer, as if in a kind of worship. And he’s staring at
me.
When his open, soft palm brushed over her breast she
felt her entire body tense, her back arching slightly,
as if the tight nipple itself was being drawn
irresistibly up to meet the warmth of his touch. The
hand slowly dragged over the small bud of darkened
flesh, shooting a bolt of intensity through her as if
she had been touched by a hot electrically charged
wire.
At her sex her hand seemed to seize up, the practiced,
familiar motion of self-pleasuring momentarily
forgotten in a cramping spasm of her wrist. An instant
later she felt his fingertips touch the very top curl
of her loins and slip beneath her own touch,
supplanting it, denying it, blocking it as it slid down
and took over the tormenting.
She let her arm drop beside her and forced her body to
go limp and that mere act of giving up allowed a fresh
wave of tingling and shuddering to seize her. She
moaned and turned her head, her eyes still tightly
shut, away from where he knelt beside her allowing a
split second fantasy of herself as the ravaged maiden
at the mercy of the lustful brute.
Then she felt the hand slip from her breast and a
moment later her won wrist was taken, firmly but with
undeniable urgency and her arm was lifted, bent and
turned before being lowered so that her own limp hand
brushed her as yet unoccupied breast. She understood
instantly and drew her fingers together, capturing the
nipple between their tips and beginning to slowly roll
and knead it. Immediately his hand shifted and began to
mirror the action on her other nipple, causing her to
moan as fresh cascades of pleasure boiled through her.
We’re masturbating me, she thought with something akin
to wonder. We’re joined in the task of servicing my
body’s deepest, darkest needs.
She curled her back, pushing her pussy up against his
hand, as if to encourage it to greater efforts, but he
seemed to sense her attempt to take over the lead of
this almost obscene act and his touch retreated
slightly, maintaining the same steady pressure on her
clit, the fingertip continuing it’s slow, demanding
circle as if dancing around the parameter of her
satisfaction.
She rolled her head back toward him and her eyes slid
open, the sight that met her sudden clear gaze making
her gasp.
He knelt beside her, his black shirt hanging as if
half-wrenched from his body, his loins naked before her
and his cock, erect and darkly crimson, circled by his
own fingers which stroked it with a firm, urgent force.
Yet another shudder of pleasure shot through her and
she raised her free hand, slipping it up the spread of
his kneeling thighs and lightly cupped the heavy sac
where his fluids awaited their release. This seemed to
cause him to quicken his own stroking and she smiled
wickedly, suddenly feeling a burst of power over him.
Playfully she slipped her fingers back, to the small
ridge that also had grown hard at the very base of his
torso and was rewarded with the sight of his eyes
flaring, his breath sucked in suddenly and his brow
furrowing as if she threatened his concentration. She
curled her fingers up beneath him and slowly, lightly
tickled him. He seemed to parry her attempt to seize
the initiative by allowing his own finger to slip fully
into her, impaling her and sending a jolt of pleasure
through her body.
Not to be bested she slid her own fingers even further
back, finding the bottom of the cleft that was the
nether point of his back and slipping between the
joined flesh there.
He made a sudden sound that was part groan, part
clearing of his throat as if her touch had somehow
threatened to strangle him. The rush of triumph that
enveloped her at forcing this reaction made her burst
with a satisfaction and sense of power that was
delicious and exquisite.
You’re mine, she thought, and slid her finger out along
the cleft to the tight opening. You’re mine.
She pressed against it, seeking to guide him as if he
were a beast meant to bow to her will, but an instant
later, as if the earth itself had suddenly tipped, he
was moving, almost rocking her off balance.
Instinctively she started to pull back, her arm jerking
out from between his legs, but before she could move he
had shifted, slid out beside her, the hand that had
been toying with her nipple now sliding forcefully
beneath her, between her shoulder and the bed, drawing
her against him even as he settled onto his side.
She emitted a small, startled “oh!” as she felt herself
pulled against him, her body rolling onto it’s side as
his arm pressed against her spine and locked her
against him, her breasts now pressing firmly against
his chest.
Then his hand was away from her clit, forcing her to
lift her upper leg, opening herself and for a moment
she thought she would at last feel him inside her,
impaling her, filling her, taking her.
But instead the felt his hand retreat between their
hips, now facing one another, and seize his cock,
shifting it even as he rocked his hips forward.
The smooth, bulbous head of his cock was suddenly
between the now dripping lips of her sex, and she
stiffened suddenly, in anticipation of the invasion.
But instead she felt the rounded, firm but soft center
of his hardness being stroked up and down the swollen,
engorged lips of her pussy, burrowing just deep enough
to stroke over her clit.
She could feel it jerking in small, spasmodic jolts and
realized with a kind of wonder that he was stroking
himself even as he used his cock to stroke her. That
their two moist, heated sexes were being petted
insistently against one another. That he was
masturbating them both and using his cock as the
implement of this torment.
She closed her eyes and swept out her own arm, curling
it over his arm and drawing herself even tighter
against him, letting her mind spin away on a jagged
realization of the wickedness, the sinfulness of what
they were doing. They were animals, she told herself.
Rutting animals.
His fluids, his seed was even then leaking from him in
slow, tiny previews of the eruption that would soon
occur, painting itself on her opening and blending
there with her own wetness. A fleeting image of a
ghostly, urgent life battering at the gates of her
sanctuary, seeking to be conceived rushed through her
mind, stunning her with the overwhelming majesty of the
miracle of existence and she whimpered as if in need to
open, to receive, to nurture.
She felt him thrusting now, his cock sliding off her
clit and slipping down between her sensitive lips, not
entering her but parting her and making her aware of
his size and heat. Then it slipped back to her clit and
his pace quickened.
He’s going to cum, she realized, and the thought caused
her pussy to clench, seeking something to capture, to
milk, to harvest, but finding only itself. The
combination of emptiness and pure, blistering lust was
agonizing and delicious and she thrust her hips,
causing his cock to dig against her clit and drawing a
wild, animal-like grunt from him even as he quickened
the pace of his urgent false mating.
He’s going to cum against my pussy, she thought. Our
fluids mixed, splashed on my flesh, against my clit.
“Oh God” she gasped, feeling herself suddenly seized as
if by a tornado wind and yanked from the world. The
heat boiled through her and her body clutched at the
climax, setting off a series of tight shudders as it
conquered her from deep within her empty pussy.
Then she felt the first jet of his hot wetness against
her and the climax seemed to snap, fragment and double
in intensity. He’s in me, her mind screamed. His seed
is on me and in me.
She had only begun to recover when she felt his hand
swooped between their tightly pressed bodies, his
fingers darting out to plunge into her where they
wiggled for a moment, causing her to shudder, then
withdrew.
He raised them to her lips, and she saw that they were
wet, glistening with their combined wetness. He placed
them against her lips and she allowed them to part,
feeling the sharp, tangy taste of their combined
essences dance over her tongue. She closed her lips
around his fingers and sucked them momentarily, then
felt them slip slowly from her mouth, leaving behind
the tart savory tang of them to excite her taste buds.
Suddenly she thrust herself up, her hand grasping at
his neck and pulling him to her, her lips locking on
his, her tongue invading his mouth.
They shared their mingled flavors.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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 31