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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!
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Lisa
by Robin (robin2003@clara.co.uk)
***
A man's fantasy really. A voyeuristic chance turns into
something more. (MF, voy, mast, beast)
***
I suppose that it was pure chance, a lucky throw of the
dice, and a case of right time, right place, that I met
Lisa. The circumstances were hardly usual; in fact
shock was possibly the first reaction she evinced from
me. Definitely shock. Intrigue and wanton lust also
added to the brew of emotions that she caused. The
experience of her though, was a life-changing event,
one that would never ever diminish in the memory and
would alter my perspective on life from that time
onwards.
I had been called by a man who’s name reminded me of an
out-board motor. Popolopoulous or something similar,
merely trying to pronounce his name sounded like a
four-horse-powered engine on the back of a little boat.
He wanted a full survey of the outside walls of his
house in Maida Vale. A few days later, armed with
digital camera and measuring beam, I was "on site",
taking notes and sketching the layout of the building.
He had an idea he wanted to build a carport on the side
with provision for a vine to grow over a steel trellis.
An electronic controlled gate separated them from the
busy road that ran through to Paddington Green. From
the street level, it was not possible to see the
property, completely hidden by the dense growth of
honeysuckle that draped over the top of the slatted
wooden fence over a raised brick wall. Once inside the
front garden and with the gate shut, London and its
snaking and pollutant traffic were shut out completely.
Not even the roar of diesel engines or the whine of
small motorbikes penetrated over or through the barrier
of brick, timber and foliage.
The house and its grounds were a sanctuary of
quietitude. Closely mown lawn, laid in concentric arcs,
split by gravel paths and brick built raise flowerbeds
flowed like waves of alternate green, grey and
colourful waves up to a Carrerra marble portico with
three step as a demarcation from the gravel covered
drive that swung in a graceful sweep from the gate at
the north side to another supposed gate at the south
end.
The starkness of the marble contrasted with the deep
redness of a clay-brick, two-storey height, Georgian
front house with symmetrical bow front windows at
ground floor level, on either side of the portico.
My professional eye dated the place and took in the
condition of the house. Although it wasn’t a remarkable
property for the area, the level of maintenance and
quality probably added a couple of hundred thousand to
the purchase price. I orientated my self and walked
along the gravel drive to the right hand side, or south
facing gable as it turned out to be. It was at a gap
between the gabled end and the partition wall that
separated the neighbouring property that the client
wanted to erect the carport, under a mature London
Plane tree that offered shade.
Measuring and pacing took only a little while and then
a quick sketch took a short while longer. Engrossed I
missed the small, half opened sash window at the side.
Music coming from the raised bottom half first
attracted my attention and then, my curiosity, because
I was supposed to be on the premises alone.
I ignored it, marking the position for when I measured
that section of wall to precisely plot the chimney flue
that protruded on the flank.
I suppose I forgot about the window, letting the music
drift into background noise until I got to that
section, between the front corner and the chimney flue
where the window broke up the uniform brickwork set in
a Flemish bond.
The open window was at eye level. The music became
recognisable as something by Rachmaninov. A heavy scent
came from the gap at the bottom sash and as I
approached, a softer noise under the notes of music. I
hooked the end of the tape to the corner of the house
and stretched it to the box of the window. It was at
that point I saw her and the tape unhooked and sprang
back as if it wanted to eat my trapped fingers. I
hardly noticed the sharp pain.
She lay on the floor at an oblique angle, naked. Her
paleness was in stark contrast to the dark floor
covering. Golden hair flailed out and spread over the
carpet as if a cushion was under her head. She lay on
her back, knees drawn up while her busy fingers pinched
and pulled at She moaned slightly and her head rolled
from side to side in a languid rocking motion. Small
moans of pleasure escaped from her parted lips.
I couldn’t gauge her age from my vantage point. She
appeared to be young, perhaps in her teens, but
difficult to determine. Both hands were engaged in
pleasuring her nipples. Stroking them in loving
fingertip swirls and then pulling the tips cruelly up
between thumbs and forefingers, which drew a moan from
her throat.
She was beautiful. That much was plainly evident.
Slender and hairless at her pubic mound. Her face, even
in a rictus of pleasure, was unmarked, flawless and
lost to the intense sensation her nimble fingers were
causing.
Her eyes were closed and her perfectly even and white
teeth were biting her lower lip. She drew breath
sharply through them as she pinched her hardened and
deeply reddened teats and her long neck arched, forcing
her shoulders off the floor and pushing her breasts
forward as if enticing her fingers to punish the little
nerve centres further.
One hand travelled in small circles over the skin of
her flat stomach, while the other fell almost
lifelessly to the floor at her side. Her knees
straightened and her legs parted slightly.
Anticipation was adding to my already painful arousal.
I visualised what she was about to do and the
excitement went immediately to my engorged cock. From
my vantage point, I could see her vulva, slick with her
juices and swelling with mounting need. I wanted, no,
actually needed to plunge into her body, possess it,
ride her and bury myself between her parted thighs, but
as any voyeur, I remained a silent witness to her self
pleasuring, frightened that any slight movement or
noise would spoil the magic of the unfolding scene
before me. Besides, I knew well enough that, contrary
to the popular male belief that a woman in such a
position would, upon spying her audience, invite him in
to join in, my intrusion would end in my eviction, most
likely with a stream of verbal abuse.
Her fingertips had found her moistened lips and parted
them slightly. It seemed she was being careful not to
touch that most sensitive nub of nerve endings, perhaps
leaving it till she was ready, or delaying the moment
in self-torture. Carefully her tips separated the
swollen lips and her forefinger slipped easily between
to disappear into the hidden canal beyond.
Another sharp intake of breath announced her invasion
of her pleasure pool. The single finger entered and
exited in a slow, rhythmic tempo that matched her
breathing. She unfolded a second finger and it
accompanied the other in its travels into her depths
that were hidden from me in shadow.
The pace increased and her back arched as her pleasure
mounted. Her fingers fucked her hairless sex in a
relentless and increasingly bruising drive towards an
orgasm. Her chest rose in staccato as her breathing
became ragged. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her
parted lips. Her head thrashed from side to side with
her eyes screwed tightly shut.
She lifted her passive hand from the floor and a finger
slid straight to her budding clit. The first touch
brought forth a rasping gasp that seemed as if it must
tear her throat. Mercilessly she rubbed her self while
finger fucking herself. The torment to her clit was
becoming a rapid tattoo, her legs quivered in
uncontrolled rapture.
Cries escaped her lips as her orgasm approached. Then
she pinched her clit, drawing it forward, pinching the
sensitive bud bringing a sharp gasp of indrawn breath
between her clenched teeth as if her fingers were red
hot and she had burned herself and then, a scream that
climbed through an octave shattered the air and she
squirted her slickness over and between her fingers to
pool on the carpet, before seeping away. Her fingers
quickly were sucked dry of her juice, one by one, each
finger slipped between her rose coloured lips to be
drawn into her mouth and cleaned thoroughly.
My heart rattled and banged in my chest, seeming to hit
my ribs from the inside as if it was trying to escape.
My own breathing coming in short gasps as I watched her
legs twitching in diminishing waves as her orgasm
receded, each wave just slightly less powerful than the
last.
Then all went very still, breathing, heart, everything
as she turned her head, opened her eyes and looked
straight at me. Almond shaped azure orbs orientated on
the open window and my freeze-framed face, surrounded
by painted window frame and sash.
I was mortified and desperately wanted to run and not
stop until I was far away, but my legs refused to
follow the instructions my thoughts were telling them.
I was transfixed by her stare like a moth on a
collector’s pin. A mixture of shame and self-loathing
overcame me. But, then, she smiled, just an upward
twitch of the ends of her perfect lips and a slight
wrinkling of her nose. We looked at each other, neither
moving in a frozen tableau until her smiled broadened
and her pink tongue tip licked across her top lip as if
tasting the air.
I thought I saw her invite me in with a twitch of her
head in a come here movement of her head. I thought
that was what I had seen, but was too stupefied to
move. She repeated the action and emphasised the motion
theatrically.
I took the broad hint and pulled back to find the door.
I couldn’t see anyway in and turned back to shrug with
open palms in a silent plea for directions. She
understood and pointed to my left.
I found the back door, ajar and opening onto a small
vestibule with a couple of doors, painted white leading
off in opposite directions. I opened the left hand door
that lead towards the front of the house.
She stood in the centre of the room, still naked,
standing in an unconscious pose with her head tilted to
the left shoulder, arms hanging limp at her side and
her feet planted slightly apart.
Her beauty stunned me momentarily. Her golden hair hung
over her shoulder, straight until it revolved in
ringlets at her waist, partially covering her small,
high left breast. Her knee bent and the smile inviting
and worrying at the same time. Her skin was flawless an
almost pure white except the pinkness of her nipples
and lips and a slight darkening tone at her mons.
When I had watched her lying on the floor, I had
guessed she was a beauty, but now that she was standing
in her full glory, her true loveliness could be
appreciated. She stood, perhaps five foot three or four
inches in her bare feet. Her breasts were small, not
under developed, but small and high on her chest. She
was slender, but proportioned to perfection; hips
flared, but not overly, more a subtle change of width
from her narrow waist.
Her mons was slightly darker in tone, but she appeared
hairless rather than shaved.
I suppose I stood there, looking at her for a little
too long, because she placed a hand on her hip and
asked me if I was just going to stand there all night.
Even in her slight frustration at my apparent
ineptitude, her voice seemed to tinkle into my tympanic
nerve and caress my hearing in a soothing invitation.
But even then, the intoxication of her had me in thrall
and movement was beyond me for a moment. The sight of
her perfection and the fact that she had invited me in
was just too much for my senses to believe.
It was she who broke the spell by coming to me and
grasping my hand before pulling me into the centre of
the bare room. It was only then I realised that there
was no furniture of any kind, just a soft woolen carpet
on the floor.
Wordlessly and constantly looking up into my eyes, she
began to unbutton my denim shirt; starting with the
second button the top was already open.
Monolithic like, I stood while she reached the last
button and had to pull the tails of my shirt out from
under the waistband on my jeans. Carefully, she peeled
the shirt off of my shoulders; still intently looking
into my eyes as if keeping the thrall she had me in by
eye contact alone. I allowed my shirt to be pulled off
my shoulders and then off of my arms.
I wanted to touch her, but feared that the moment would
burst like a soap bubble and I awake from a dream or
something. This doesn’t happen, I kept thinking, it
doesn’t happen in real life. But, it was happening and
a small part of me knew that I wasn’t dreaming, that I
was a party to her seduction of me by her allure alone.
She kissed the space between my breasts and then licked
the slight perspiration. Her eyes closed slightly as if
she relished the saltiness of my moisture. She glanced
up again and pulled my head down to her waiting, parted
lips. A tender kiss, then, with pressure to the back of
my neck, a deeper kiss, mouth pressed almost fiercely
together, crushing until tooth met tooth. It felt as if
my breath was being pulled from my lungs and was being
pumped out by the hammering of my heart.
She broke the kiss and then pulled me back to her
mouth, her tongue snaked between my teeth and explored
the roof of my palate. Our tongues met. I kissed her
back with as much ardour, savouring the cinnamon taste
of her breath. Still, I had not touched her, keeping my
arms limply beside my sides.
She broke the kiss and slowly knelt in front of me. She
lifted my left foot and slipped the moccasin I was
wearing, off and threw it into the corner of the room.
I allowed her to lift my foot like an obedient horse at
a farrier’s workshop. Then she lifted the other foot
while I transferred the weight and stood on one leg.
Content with my shoelessness, she grasped the buckle of
my belt and slowly released the clasp. I could feel the
trembling of anticipation travel along my spine.
The belt undone and hanging open and useless, she
grasped the waistband of my jeans and levered the
button undone with one hand. The other had gripped the
tag of the zip and was slowly pulling it down to reveal
my boxers underneath. I was so pleased I had plain
black ones on and not the Father Christmas printed ones
my Mother had thought a good idea for a present.
When the zip and button were undone, she hooked her
thumbs into the elasticated band of my boxers and drew
both those and the jeans around my ankles, over my
trembling knees. With her help, I stepped out of the
clothes and she threw those to join the discarded
moccasins in the corner. I was now as naked as her.
She still knelt in front of me and looked up into my
eyes. Her lids hooded the almond shaped blue eyes bored
into me as she placed her hand around my rigid cock so
recently released from the confines of clothing.
I knew that she would take me into her mouth and I knew
that it was to be heavenly, but I could never be
prepared for the intense concentration of nerve
jangling pleasure. She slowly opened her lips and
slipped her tongue out. With the tip, she licked my
slit, moistening it. It was almost painful to bear.
Then her mouth opened a little more and I watched as my
cock head disappeared between her lips. Watching it
pass into the warmth of her and the feeling as it slid
passed her teeth was the most sensuous experience of my
sexual life to date.
Her tongue massaged my head, swilling it around in her
mouth, the ridges of her palate created tiny vibrations
as friction and the pressure of her mouth caused me to
come to a point that, if I didn’t stop, would be all
over.
It was my first touch of her as I gently grasped her
head to pull her away, but I think she must have
thought that I wanted her to continue, because she
thrust her head forward and I entered her throat. Her
lips banged against my pubic bone where she had sunk
all of my length. I gasped and, not wanting it to end
in this way and so quickly, managed to take her off of
my throbbing organ and I knelt facing her, breast to
breast hip to hip and kissed her deeply. She allowed my
tongue to pass between her lips. I tasted my precum on
her lips and was intoxicated all over again. She kissed
me back, crushing my lips hard against my teeth.
Fuck me. She breathed. Fuck me please? It wasn’t a
plea, more an implied command.
We lay, side by side on the floor and I took her in,
marvelled again at her flawless beauty. I supported her
head with a hand behind her neck and bent to kiss her
once more. A fingertip, traced from her throat and the
small dip to her breastbone, just lightly touching.
Then to her nipple, circling the budding pink nub and
watching as the skin around it puckered with what
looked like goose bumps. It hardened and deepened in
colour as blood infused and desire mounted. My mouth
took her other nipple while I manipulated and it too,
hardened between my teeth. A little nip drew a sharp
intake of breath and a moan as she exhaled.
Her taste, when at last I nuzzled into her glorious
cleft, was just as intoxicating as the vision. Her
juice had a slight bitter sweetness that lingered on my
tongue. I found her hooded clit and tip lashed it so
softly, barely touching her most sensitive centre. The
effect was instantly electric, producing a shock that
travelled through her body from her curling toes to the
back of her scalp and back down again. She screamed and
then moaned loudly as I started to work on her sex with
my lapping tongue.
She thrust her hands between us and pulled her lips
open and the hood back, almost viciously, to expose her
swelling clit. It was my pleasure to service her need
and I sucked her into my mouth and was rewarded with a
flood of her golden come. If my actions were a sublime
torture to her, the effect it was having on my libido
was just as devastating.
My glans ached painfully in its erectness and the need
and sheer wantonness of what was happening conspired
together to increase my desperate desire to bury myself
inside her canal, past the swelling lips of her
beautifully scented sex.
She spread her legs as I knelt between them and slowly
lowered myself until just touching her with the wet end
of my cock. Supporting my upper torso on hands either
side of her on the floor, I bend and kissed her mouth
and slipped my tongue between her lips and my cock
slipped between her other secret lips.
It had been my intention to push into her slowly, but
she had different ideas. Her knees came up and feet
interlocked behind my buttocks. It gave me an easy
passage into her depths and I was content to be gentle
and take it slowly. She pulled me into her using her
feet in a violent pull while pushing her hips upwards
and forward, forcing my cock to slide straight into her
womb. It was my turn to gasp as our pelvic bones
clashed in collision. Automatically, I pulled back,
only to be forced straight back into her as she pulled
be in with a vice like grip that belied her slightness.
She forced the pace, driving her hips into me and
digging her nails into my back in a desperate fury of
motion that built pressure in my balls that could only
be released in a flood of my seed into her belly. The
pressure was building and I would not last too much
longer. She must have gauged my nearness to orgasm
through my rapid and uncontrolled breathing because she
stopped suddenly and wriggled out from under me with a
kiss and a smile that melted my already lost heart.
She turned over and knelt facing the still open window.
Her ass cheeks provocatively invited me to mount her.
In a trance like state and with little self-awareness,
I complied and grasped her hips and pulled her back
onto my swollen and rigid glans, burying it into her so
that my balls slapped her clit. I was able to reach
forward and grasp her gorgeous tits by raising my knees
off the floor in the classic doggy position, relying on
her hips to make the rhythm and her arms and knees
support the weight of my body.
Suddenly, and without any warning of approach, a warm
tongue lashed my puckered and raised ass. The shock
drove me forward and even deeper into her body. She
screamed a single word; yes! Before I could react, the
tongue performed its magic again and once more, I drove
into her, sinking all of my length and crushing my sacs
against her pubic bone.
The dog’s tongue was a wonderful addition to what was
an utterly fantastic event. Somehow, I managed to keep
driving into her, nearing my orgasm. Then, equally
without warning, the dog had mounted me, gripping hers
and my waists between his front legs, paws locked
together. I wasn’t prepared for what happened next. His
sharply pointed cock drove through my sphincter and
into my anal canal. I must have screamed, I suppose I
did, but it made no difference, because he thrust into
me with a piston like regularity. It was wonderful. The
dog fucking me in the ass and me, fucking her at the
same rate as his, driven by his powerful hips in a blur
of motion.
His cock caused pressure within and made me even harder
and then, suddenly, as sudden as his assault on me, I
came. The powerful blasts of come felt as if it ripped
through my cock. Over and over, I pulsed into her,
filling her womb with my seed while the dog milked me
from the inside. I had never felt so abused and
satiated at the same time and so switched on and alive.
But, I could take no more of the dogs pounding and it
was becoming painful being inside her. I had to pull
off and managed to disengage from her as the dog
dismounted me. I admit, I collapsed in an untidy heap
beside her and watched as the dog, which had yet to
reach his own climax, mount her. She hadn’t moved and
offered her sex to him as she had to me.
Eight inches of purple Great Dane cock, piled into her
willing body and he took up where I left off. Machine
like thrust drove him into her, making her gasp and
grunt in time. Perspiration dripped from her brow and
sheen collected on her skin.
The Danes cock was deep inside and his know has started
to swell, forcing her lips cruelly apart until it too,
disappeared into her willing depths. She screamed and
in an animalistic and primal urge, she shoved back and
impaled herself on him.
Their combined orgasm was a mixture of grunts, screams
a growl that came from deep within the dogs throat.
Fluids dripped from her and then gushed as the dog
dismounted. They had locked, but her accommodating body
had released him easily.
"It was ordained". She told me. I watched you from the
window and knew you had to be the one. The one I have
waited for.
"I don’t even know your name." I was trying to calm
down after the experience, the like I had never known,
nor ever would again, in all likelihood.
"Its Lisa and this is Max. Your child will be the
perfect combination of canine and human, your seed will
mix to make the first awaited one. Thank you." He eyes
held me in that thrall again.
"I’m R…." She silenced me with a finger on my lips.
"I do not need your name, I have all I need from you.
Get your clothes.
I rolled over to where my clothes lay in a crumpled
heap and rolled back. Neither she nor the dog was
there, I was suddenly quite alone.
MY tentative enquires to my client about the girl and
the black Great Dane only brought forth confusion.
"We have nobody here like that and we have never had a
dog.
Was I the co-father of a new race? I was never to find
out and always needed to know.
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 31