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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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Free Time
by Alexis S (ealexissiefert@yahoo.com)
***
Daydreaming in the bathtub. (F-solo, mast, rom)
***
She sighed deeply and let her body sink into the water.
The bubbles tickled her nose, but she didn't bother
raising her hand to flick them away. As her ears dipped
below the level of the water, she could hear the water
rushing through the pipes. There was a rhythmic 'swish-
swish' somewhere in the house, telling her that the
washing machine was filling, or perhaps the dishwasher
had moved into its rinse mode, whatever. Just so long as
it didn't require her to get up.
The wind was beating against the window above the tub.
Its incessant rapping sounded like a jealous neighbor,
begging to be let in the house. She giggled softly at
the thought of the anthropomorphic wind knocking at the
pane of glass.
An image sprang unbidden to her mind of the wind in
human form... a lovely Native woman, full breasts and
hips, fertility personified, dark hair blowing wildly
around her face as the breeze whipped playfully through
the black tresses.
She let her mind drift, her thoughts fading as the
steam, pregnant with lavender scent, surrounded her face
and filled her nostrils. The sales clerk swore to her
that lavender was relaxing, "aroma therapy" the clerk
called it. She didn't know if it was the scent, the
steam, or just the knowledge that she had an hour to
herself that was relaxing her. It didn't matter.
Her brain shifted out of conscious thoughts into a
series of images, drawn out of her body by the beckoning
wind. It was as though her body was separate from her
being. She floated above the water, looking down at the
body below her, critically examining it in a detached
manner. She knew she was looking at her own form, but it
seemed so foreign.
The body below her was so lovely, so womanly, not at all
how she pictured herself when she peered into the mirror
every morning. The woman in the tub had long legs; well,
long for her height. Her hips were softly rounded,
framing her concave belly. Perhaps a bit too sharp in
her hipbones, she knew that she needed to put on another
few pounds or so, but the effect was still pleasant.
Her eyes traveled upward, tracing the delicate ribcage
pausing briefly to watch her pulse beat in the hollow
below her sternum. The skin of her breasts was flushed
with the heat of the tub and they bobbed gently in the
water in time with her slow, relaxed breathing. Around
small shoulders, her pale hair floated, softly swaying,
swirling around her face. Her lips were full, which had
been a point of contention with her until it became
fashionable and the superstars were injecting their thin
mouths to change their shape. She had heard men snicker
when looking at pictures of these full-mouthed women,
referring to their "DSL's."
It took months of discrete eves dropping for her to
finally overhear the phrase "dick-sucking-lips" instead
of the cryptic abbreviation. She knew at that moment
that she had a mouth designed to frame a man's cock,
lips meant to nestle a cockhead between, and suddenly,
in spite of herself, her mouth was beautiful to her.
She reached down with her mind's fingers, imagining
their touch on the pale skin of the body in the water
below her. The body responded with its own fingers,
brushing a fingertip over those red lips, and she was
pulled back into herself. She shivered a bit and parted
her lips pushing her finger between her teeth, over her
tongue.
She felt her teeth scrape along her skin and her nail
drew an invisible line over her dark red tongue. She
sucked softly, teasingly, imagining her finger as a
cock, pulsing between her lips.
As she sucked her fingertip, her other hand fluttered
over her neck, feeling her pulse pick up as her
breathing quickened. Her fingers wrapped around her tiny
throat, pressing slightly, wondering what it would feel
like to have a man's hand wrapped there, cutting off her
wind as his body pounded into her.
The CD player mounted to the wall clicked softly as the
CD ended and started its loop again. Soon soft strains
of Franco Corelli's lamenting tenor aria from 'I
Pagliacci' filled the room. The mournful, insistent
tones reached under the water, vibrating against her
belly and the stroking touch of her fingers quickened to
meet its rhythm.
Her fingertips brushed over the tops of her breasts,
leaving warm trails on her heated skin. She was slightly
surprised to find that her nipples were already
hardened, erect, pushing away from her small, round
breasts as if they were straining towards her lingering
fingers. She twisted her nipples gently between her
thumbs and forefingers, working both breasts in tandem.
Twin sparks shot through her body from her breasts to
the center of her sex, and she gasped. Her fingers
tightened their grip on her sensitive peaks, twisting
her nipples more forcefully.
She drew her knees up, and her thighs spread, coming to
rest against the tile sides of the tub. The contrast
between the warmth of the water and the cooler air of
the room served only to heighten the feelings suddenly
building so strongly within her.
One hand left her breast and drifted down, stroking
lightly over the taut skin of her belly, hovering over
the small tattoo at her hip--a Celtic harp--the only
remnant of her brief rebellious period. Her fingers
found the cleft of her sex, and she paused, hovering
just at her opening, hesitantly stroking her outer lips.
This was not an act she normally found comfortable,
never mind exciting. Despite being raised in the
enlightened decade of the 70's, she was raised to
believe that pleasure was not the purview of a woman;
she was supposed to 'close her eyes and think of other
things,' to quote her prim-and-proper mother.
However, the butterfly flutterings in her belly forced
the reservations from her mind, pushed her past her
'moral' protests. Her fingers began, for the first time,
to truly explore that most secret place within her.
As her fingertips parted her lips to dip into the
slippery moisture there, her thumb grazed lightly over
the swelling button above. Her breath caught in her
throat, and her clit twitched under her touch.
The music lifted and swelled through the room, shaking
the glass in the window as the tenor's voice drew her
further into her own passions. Her fingers dug
insistently between her pussy lips, no longer hesitant
and unable to fight her natural instincts.
She felt her inner muscles clench around her fingertips
as she pushed one, then two fingers deep inside her
pussy. A moan escaped her lips as she stretched her
fingers, opening herself wider, feeling her body respond
to the intrusion. Her thumb stayed perched atop her rock
hard, swollen clit, rolling it in hard circles against
her body.
Water swirled around her as her hand began to move
faster, thrusting deeply into her soaking pussy. The
water flowed into her opening with each thrust, filling
her further. Her body began to shudder, her hips bucked
up against her hand. She gripped the tile side of the
tub with her free hand, gasping for breath as her face
slipped below the water again and again. Her body
spasmed violently, wracked with her orgasm.
It was the sound of her own voice that called her out of
her reverie. A soft moaning reached her ears under the
water, and she slowly caught her breath. Her fingers
were still buried deeply between her shaking legs, and
her body quivered in seismic aftershocks. Slowly, she
allowed the warm water to calm her again, and she slowed
her breathing until she felt confident enough of her own
strength to stand.
Stepping from the tub, wrapping the towel around her
dripping body, she moved to the bedroom, taking note of
the luminescent glow of the clock on the wall.
She smiled realizing that she still had 30 minutes left
before her family was due home.
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 79