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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
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Violett - 1
by Sailbad (sailbad@storiesonline.org)
***
An attractive, adventurous lesbian gives a light-
hearted narration of her life's experiences in dog-sex
from her first discoveries while masturbating at age
12 to her adventures while in a committed relationship
in her twenties. Parts 3, 4, & 5 are the hottest. (FF,
1st, mast, exh, beast)
***
PART 1
My name is Violett and I'm a fit, attractive
professional in my early forties. I'm also a lipstick
lesbian and an incurable pervert.
I admit it. For as long as I can remember I've had a
fascination- preoccupation with my "taboo, wanton
desires". I recall at a very early age hearing the
nightly tumult coming from my parents’ bedroom. I
don’t know why but somehow I knew he was putting his
big, round dangly thing inside her hairy, pie-shaped
nest and that it was intensely enjoyable for both of
them. Believe me when I say tumult, it was a symphony
of moans, breathing, creaking, rustling and kissing. I
could not get it out of my mind.
My raw curiosity got me into a lot of trouble as a
girl. I remember the times I got caught playing doctor
with my cousin Jane or letting the neighbor boys watch
me pee. Man, did I catch hell for that, but the fear
of tempting such wrath was so exciting. In fact the
more sexually forbidden something was, the more I was
attracted to it.
My first real, productive sexual experience was one
night at the tender age of twelve. It was a
ponderously strange time in my life as my body had
just entered puberty. It was only two weeks prior that
I had had that frank and embarrassing talk with my
mother about my menstruation and all the hygienic and
procreative responsibility it entailed not to mention
what was constantly on boys’ minds. It kind of made me
feel dirty but it also made me feel that I had been
placed in charge of a volatile device that held a
magnetic charm. It gave me a sense of power.
I had spent that particular evening down at the penny
arcade in the touristy part of town and I had come
across a boy and two girls my age. We made friends
and they took me to a side area in the arcade that I
had never gone into before to show me something. It
had a bunch of antique coin operated amusements and
games from the 20s, not very interesting. Though, in
the back corner was an old peep show machine from the
50s; extremely interesting.
They led me to it and carefully looked around to see
if anyone was watching and then dropped in a dime and
told me to take a look. I stood on my toes and looked
into the viewer and saw an old, contrasty, black and
white movie of an attractive woman wearing nothing but
frilly, black, see-through panties. She had long,
dark, wavy hair and was rolling around playfully,
enticingly on a bed. She put on a fabulous show of her
curvaceous body and big round breasts.
What captured my interest most intently was her
resemblance to one of my favorite teachers. The show
was over much too soon and I left my new friends to
look for my dad and to cop a few more dimes. When I
found him he said it was time to leave and we did. I
was quiet all the way home thinking about that movie,
little did I know then it had kindled a fire in me
that burns to this day.
It was a cool late summer evening as I lay on my bed
in my room later that night, enjoying the mountain
breeze coming through my open window. I was feeling
strangely erotic because of what I had seen and I
started fantasizing about my seventh grade Geography
teacher. She was a distractingly gorgeous redhead with
bright blue eyes who looked very much like a young Ann
Margaret, and watching her every day prodded a desire
in me to gather her beauty in my arms and bury my face
in her flesh (yes, even in my youth I favored the
girls).
Being only twelve, I had no idea, apart from kiss and
cuddle play with a couple of girlfriends, what
enjoying the pleasures of a beautiful woman entailed
but my mind was fertile ground for speculation. Her
sensuality seemed to glow around her. She used to wear
those low-cut sundresses that were so popular in the
early 70s and when she bent over her desk I would
catch a view of her breasts hanging pendulously below
her sweet face. The glimpse of her intimate flesh
bound her to my desires as a cherished figure with a
special secret exchange between us.
As I thought about her beautiful face and wavy red
hair, I began lightly running my fingertips up and
down my body. I paid special attention to my nipples
and the insides of my thighs and occasionally I would
tease my mons by lightly tickling it through my
panties. It was late and everyone in the house was
asleep. Emboldened by my arousal, I lifted my nitey to
my neck so I could feel my fingers on my naked skin.
My hands were cold and their touch on my flesh felt
foreign to me like they were not my own. The sensation
of my touch and the cool breeze from the window had
hardened the nipples on my barely budding breasts. I
intensified my gentle massage and continued to think
about my teacher and her long, sensuous legs. My mind
was reeling from the wantonly delicious sensations,
fueling not only my arousal but also my peculiar lust
for being sexually naughty.
Hungry to push this exploration to new heights, I
followed the lust to where the sensations were taking
it. At a new frontier I decided it was time to bring
my sex into the act. I slipped my fingers under the
hem of my panties and thrilled at the feelings that it
awoke. My vulva was an unfamiliar presence to me of
late. It was only a month ago that downy little tufts
of hair had sprouted on it and the mound itself had
begun to bulge outward perceptively. I found this area
was the epicenter of all these arousal feelings and my
hands fell upon it eagerly while my mind whirled like
a child discovering a hidden candy reserve. I traced
around it with my fingertips, tickled the fine hairs
and rubbed on whatever spots yielded promise of
greater returns.
The panties were getting in my way so I lifted my butt
and pushed them down over my knees. I then spread my
knees wide, in a way girls are taught never to do, to
give myself better access and felt that wonderful cool
air on my crotch. I felt sensuous for the first time
in my life and I knew I was on to something big. There
was good naughtiness to be had here and I leapt into
it vigorously. I cupped my hand over my mons and
pressed down firmly against my pubic bone. There were
stirrings in that sensation that spoke to me of sex
and of the motive behind the moment when two lovers
press firmly together. I pushed my hips upward as if
meeting the body of an invisible lover.
It was then that my stirring must have awakened the
curiosity of my dog, Max. Max was our short, stocky
British bulldog. He always slept on my bed at the
foot. Max was lean, fit, and aggressive but friendly.
He and I always liked to play-wrestle on the floor. I
would grab at his legs while he jumped up on me with
his front paws and gently bight at any exposed limbs.
Sometimes he would grasp my shoulder or my hip with
his front paws and start humping at me. I always
pushed him down to prevent my embarrassment and my
parent's wrath but secretly I felt there was something
extremely naughty about what Max was trying to do and
maybe someday I would explore it and put it to use.
Max was now awake and started sniffing around. I felt
him step over my ankles and I saw it as a bothersome
distraction from my explorations. I stopped my
attentions to myself to push him back to the end of
the bed and then I laid back and returned to my
devotions. I was having great fun and I didn't want
him to spoil it. My arousal was affecting strange
changes in my body that excited me to explore deeper.
My inner labia, which I barely knew I had, were
swelling up and pouting out of my slit. The swelling
lips brought with them a wetness like perspiration.
I lost track of Max and was enjoying the light
dragging of my finger up and down between my labia. My
slit kept sweating out the musky wetness that
lubricated the slow sliding up and down of my finger.
I felt chills of excitement every time I probed my
finger into my vaginal opening and drug the welling,
slick moisture from it up my slit. The biggest chills
came when I slid my finger upward past my pee hole to
that tiny button inside the notch at the very top of
my slit. My clitoris and I were about to become better
acquainted.
Max was still for a while where I had pushed him but
his curiosity was drawing him to examine my work. He
stepped over my legs again but this time I was so deep
into what I was doing I didn't bother myself with it.
Suddenly, I felt his tongue lapping at my crotch. My
first reaction was to recoil but by the time he had
swiped his tongue across me twice, pulling away was
the furthest thing from my mind. I kept my fingers
doing what they were and let Max's tongue start a new
game.
Max's tongue was broad and flat and kind of rough,
like velvet rubbed the wrong way. It was amazingly
agile and dexterous, though. It could easily fold and
contort itself to conform to my intimate flesh. It
creased itself into a narrow notch that he could
force, to my delight, deftly into my crack. If
touching my self was like a splash, Max licking me was
like a Tsunami.
My arousal was in high gear and I felt all of a sudden
delirious and overwhelmed with a steadily growing
pleasure the pinnacle of which I was uncertain I could
withstand. I pulled my hands away and let Max take
over. He shoved his flat, pug face against my crotch
and dug in his sturdy feet while that tongue of his
was doing things to my body I could not believe it was
capable of. He snorted and grunted as he set himself
to gorge on my musky excretions. He kept alternating
between quick rhythmic lapping that flooded my vulva
with a broad pleasure and forceful sweeps that drove
his tongue deep into my slit and drug it upwards to my
clitoris which was an acute, sharp delectation.
All the time during his tongue ravaging he was opening
new areas of pleasure in my sex previously unknown to
me. At intervals he would drive his tongue in hard at
the base of my slit and I would feel that agile
appendage curl and sweep around in the entrance to my
vagina, searching for that wellspring of my musk that
he seemed to enjoy lapping up. Every time he probed my
vagina or drug across my clitoris he drove me to a
higher threshold of joy. I had never been on a
carnival ride that gave me anywhere near the thrills I
was getting, and the thrill kept building. My heart
was beating like it would explode. I was panting as
though I were running for my life. I could not hear
anything anymore.
When I opened my eyes it was like looking through a
tunnel of dark gray clouds. My arms were drawn up to
my chest and my hands flailing on either side of my
face. My knees were spread wide and my crotch thrust
upward as high as I could push it. My vulva was an
open presentation; an altar of sacrifice offered to my
deliverer and the power with which he held sway over
my body. If this wasn't taboo and forbidden, I didn't
know what was. The allure of sin was making the whole
experience even more exciting. In my mind I was facing
a wild, uncontrollable plunge into unknown, blind
depths, I realistically feared where this was taking
me but the pleasure was too seductive for me to fight
off.
I began to roll and pump my hips upward in a motion
that was guided more by nature than anything I was
consciously aware of. My crotch was dancing on the tip
of Max's tongue and completely out of my control.
Throughout my body I felt something akin to an intense
tickle like every nerve and fiber I had was exposed to
the absolute limit of sensation they could bear, in
fact I felt like I were about to scream. Just when I
thought I could go no further, like a snap I saw a
flash of light, an overwhelming warmth, and then an
eruption like every square inch of my body exploding
in celebration and joy.
Though I didn't know what it was at the time, I had my
first orgasm, nature’s reward for reproductive
receptivity. If I concentrate I can still recall what
that first time felt like. It hammered on me, like
some tremendous leach it sucked the strength from me.
Meanwhile, it treated every nerve I possessed to the
absolute full capacity of pleasure. It was inside me -
it was outside me. It was everywhere in general - but
nowhere in specific. It was laughter - it was terror.
It was capture - it was release.
I lay there shaking in some kind of tight grasp until
all that pleasure subsided like warm water draining
from a bath. As tremendous as it was, it was over too
soon. As abruptly as every muscle in my body had
tensed, they now all relaxed, a rush of blood gushed
back into my extremities and with it came such
peaceful repose. Max lapped at me undeterred as I lay
still and gathered myself. His tongue soothed away the
panic.
I didn't know what had happened to me, if it were some
freakish aberration visited only on the insane, if I
had broken something, or if I would recover. As I
gained my sense of consciousness I suddenly realized
how out of control I had been. Had I screamed? Out of
fear the whole house was about to burst into my room
and ask me what had happened, I quickly pushed Max
away from me, pulled up my panties, and slipped
beneath the sheets. As I waited in the dark to see if
I was discovered, shaking from head to toe in an achy
weariness like I had strained every muscle in my body,
I basked in a happy warmth like I had never known.
That night was the turning point of my life. I had
become a new person; my body had begun to mold itself
into a woman and now my mind had changed too as a
great mystery of life had become unraveled. I faded to
a deep sleep swaying between slight pangs of guilt and
a delirium of total peace. A week's worth of research
followed to determine what had happened to me and to
assure myself I was not harmed. I knew one thing, Max
had opened a big door for me and this was a realm we
would certainly be exploring more in the future.
Continued in part 2...
By Sailbad@storiesonline.org
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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 75