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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 DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Hand Job
by MoonOwl (1994)
***
A co-worker teases a guy into an orgasm as a reward for
a nice meal and some wine. (Fdom/M, oral, hand-fetish)
***
Cara and Alex met at the Italian Market for lunch to
discuss the regional writers journal that they edited.
Alex, always punctual, rose from the table to greet
Cara, the usual few minutes late, with a smile and a
handshake.
Although she enjoyed the fleeting touch of his hand, it
never seemed to be enough of a connection. She had
attempted a hug once, and although Alex had submitted,
she felt the tension in his body, not the sense of
merging she had hoped for, and she had released him
quickly.
Both were married, but not to each other. Alex was an
academic, involved in some esoteric branch of physics.
He would offer a simple explanation of his current
projects in response to Cara's inquiries, and she would
smile and nod.
He clearly loved the life of the mind and was most
comfortable in that arena. As Cara looked at him across
the table, she thought that, besides the word heady, she
would describe him as trim--trim body, trim beard, and
neatly fitted, carefully chosen clothes.
Cara, in contrast, was more of a free spirit. She was
fairly tall, nearly Alex's height, and willowy. She
favored softly flowing clothes and enjoyed jewelry, lots
of it. Alex sometimes teased her about her having gypsy
ancestors. In addition to free-lance writing, she ran an
art supply store near the university, and looked the
part of the bohemian.
They discussed the stories and poetry submitted for an
upcoming issue of the journal, one focusing on the
erotic as sacred. Alex spent some time debating the fat
content of the alfredo sauce before settling on pasta
primavera.
Cara, without hesitation, chose the more sensuous of the
two, the generous portion of luscious creamy alfredo
sauce with tiny shrimp scattered throughout. They ate
the superb garlic bread and antipasto. Cara enjoyed a
glass of white wine and Alex had his usual iced tea.
The meal and the meeting finished, they moved to the
parking lot, pausing when they reached Alex's car. He
smiled and extended his hand, as always. Cara grasped
his hand with both of hers and shook. She could see the
puzzlement grow on Alex's face when she didn't release
his hand.
"You are coming to my car with me now," she said. "I
want to do something for you, to you." She squeezed his
hand, pulling him in the direction of her car, parked at
the far edge of the lot. "We will sit right here in my
car, and although I would like to touch more of you, I
will only touch your hand."
He hesitated, but compelled by intense curiosity and the
rush of warmth in his body flowing outward from his
hand, he allowed himself to be drawn toward Cara's car.
She opened the passenger door and urged Alex into the
seat. She got into the driver's seat, pushed it back
from the steering wheel and reclined it slightly. She
commented, "It's warm in here," and pulled her skirt up
well above her knees.
Alex blinked.
"Now recline your seat."
Alex reclined his seat a couple notches.
"That's not enough. Recline it fully," she said firmly.
Alex gave Cara a sidelong glance, apologetically said,
"Yes, ma'am," and put the seat all the way down.
"That's right," she said, "and you will continue to
address me as ma'am. Give me your hand now."
Alex felt his cock jump. "Yes, ma'am," he answered,
surprised by the intensity of his response, and extended
his hand. He had always felt comfortable with his
relationship with Cara - one that was friendly,
professional, equal, and safe. What was happening? She
had somehow shifted, as if this were a part of her
personality he'd never witnessed before.
Cara took his hand. "Close your eyes. You may focus on
the sensations in your hand, or you may transpose the
feelings to any other part of your body. Don't do
anything else without my permission."
"Yes, ma'am." Alex's attention was totally focused on
Cara's touch and the sensations flowing from his hand
and swirling through his crotch. He experienced a moment
of panic but remembered that this was, after all, only
his hand.
She began to stroke his hand lightly with her
fingertips, savoring the textures of his skin, the
scattering of small grey hairs on his fingers and the
back of his hand, the neatly trimmed nails. She traced
the hollows between the tendons on the back of his hand
and followed the irregular path of the veins from wrist
to knuckles.
Cara turned Alex's hand over, feeling the hollow of his
palm and tracing out each finger to the tip. She
returned to the base of his fingers and felt the callus
there, built up from rowing. She thought back to the
Harley he had owned years before, wondering whether that
callus had felt like this present one. The bike was
gone, though, sold as Alex had gotten older and more
cautious.
Her touch became firmer as she began to massage his
hand. She increased the pressure and began to stroke the
length of his fingers. He began to wonder - to imagine -
what that stroke would feel like on his cock. It began
to swell in response.
Suddenly he noticed that Cara was using her tongue. He
could feel its soft, wet track, the sensation warm where
it touched his skin and cooling as she moved on. Her
tongue began to move in and out at the base of each
finger. He groaned, imagining her tongue on his body.
She moved her attentions back to his fingertips and
began to flick each one with the tip of her tongue. His
erection continued to swell. His focus oscillated
between the tips of his fingers and the tip of his
penis. His heart rate accelerated and his breath grew
shorter. Cara could hear small gasps.
She sucked his index finger slowly into her mouth. He
shuddered and moved his right hand to his crotch.
Cara bit his finger hard. Alex yelped in surprise and
his eyes flew open. "What?! Why did you bite me?"
"You didn't have my permission to touch yourself or to
open your eyes, and you'll remember to address me as
ma'am."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Now, do you want to ask me something?"
"Yes, ma'am. My dick's very hard and it's bent the wrong
way. I want to adjust myself because it really hurts,
ma'am."
"You may adjust yourself and then you are to hold on to
the door handle. You may not touch yourself again
without my permission."
"Yes, ma'am." Alex slipped his hand into his trousers,
rearranged his cock, sighed, and grasped the door handle
with his right hand.
Cara began to lick and suck his fingers again. Alex
trembled. She moved back to his index finger, pulling it
deeper and deeper into her mouth with each stroke. He
could hear small sounds escaping from her mouth as she
pulled his finger farther into her body. His hips began
to rock and his knuckles whitened on the door handle.
Suddenly she released his finger, moved her mouth down
to the fleshy pad at the base of his thumb and began to
bite him. He groaned, caught between intensity and pain,
not daring to withdraw his hand, awaiting whatever new
sensations she might choose to give him.
Then Cara began to alternate sucking and biting. The
pain from the bites began to transmute into something
else--pure intense sensation. His sexual rush
accelerated, his attention drawn headlong into Cara's
mouth--her lips, her tongue, her teeth, her throat.
Abruptly he realized that she had pulled his finger so
deep into her mouth that her lips were over the knuckle
at its base.
His last conscious thoughts, wondering how she could do
that without gagging, were his realization that that was
what deep-throating meant. She slid her lips slowly up
his finger, plunged down it again and again, and then
withdrew her mouth from his finger and bit him hard. His
consciousness shattered and he came.
"I did not give you permission to come," said Cara and
bit him once more.
"Yes, ma'am," said Alex, and spasmed again.
END
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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 67