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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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My Brilliant Hitchhiker
by Marc Proust (proust@scsn.net)
***
Marc, a post graduate on the way to a meeting down state
to an important meeting, stops to pick up a woman hitch
hiking, only to discover that she's a natural
submissive. Only things don't turn out as expected. (MF,
mast, oral, anal, light dom)
***
I decided to drive. It was only six hours away and I
needed time to gather my thoughts together. My topic was
"Lust and Poetry: Can Either Survive in the Post-
Industrial World?" It was a new paper, and the bugs
weren't fully worked out, but I was excited about the
question and eager to give the paper. Prof. Tyson of
Jacksonville University was a world-renown scholar on
such matters, and our meeting the next day was a source
of much anticipation on my part.
I was nearly to Charleston when I saw her hitch-hiking.
I was tired of thinking already, and figured a bit of
female companionship would help pass the time. I had
until 2:00 the next day, which was ample time to come to
grips with post-industrial society, at least that part
that had eluded me so far.
"Gee, thanks. I thought I'd be there forever! How far
are you going?"
"Only to Jacksonville. Does that help?"
Well, it turned out it helped a lot since she was also
going to Jacksonville. She was about my age, perhaps a
bit younger, no babe but very pretty in a lost, waifish
sort of way. In spite of her slightly immature demeanor,
however, it was clear from the start that she was no
dummy. She wore a simple cotton top and I saw, before
the dome light expired at the hands of its timer, that
her breasts were not confined by a bra. I love that. It
is so rare these days. Lust began to get the upper hand
over poetry in my ruminations on the post-industrial
world.
"My name's Marc. What's yours?"
"My friends call me Dandy."
"Now there's a name you don't hear every day. While I am
prepared to believe you are pretty dandy, I can't
imagine that's why your parents gave their kid such a
name." You can tell I'm no smooth talker. If fact, for
some reason (and I'm not alone) I sound like a pedantic
fool the minute I encounter a beautiful woman. I really
thought I was getting better.
"My middle name is D'Andrea and for as long as I can
remember I've been called Dandy. I think my dad started
it. My first name is Laura, which I don't much like, so
I've kind of gotten used to being Dandy."
I asked how she came to be hitchhiking and she proceeded
to tell me a long story, most of which I have forgotten,
involving a boy and a girl, another girl, and a banjo. I
didn't believe a word of it, but it made me laugh, and
we had sailed past Charleston when she said, by way of
conclusion to her tale:
"I guess I get into trouble, because when I like a guy I
just want to do anything for him. They take advantage."
Even I recognized that this was my cue. All thought of
industry and poetry was gone; only lust remained. My
cock began it's inevitable swell. The beginning is the
most electric: slow jolts penetrate the testicles and
tell the blood to quit what it's doing (what does it
usually do?) and rush to the penis. I knew it sounded
dumb, but the only thing I could think of to do was to
ask: "Do you like me, Dandy?"
"Yes." She said it submissively, and we were off to the
races. Now, I had read about such women, but no one I
had ever been involved with had been interested in such
games. In fact, I have day-dreamed of dominating or
being dominated, but never really thought seriously
about either. In the next few seconds, however, I
resolved to play my part as best I could. My post-
industrial world had just expanded.
"Dandy, touch your left breast with your right hand. It
would make me happy." As I said this, we were gliding
past Savannah. I love to drive at night. It is so lonely
and quiet; cars shy away from the dark. Not only did
Dandy follow my instruction, I noticed that she gently
began to massage her left breast, and squirmed, if ever
so slightly, on the seat of the car. My penis was
swelling in earnest now, and I was really enjoying
getting in touch with my dominant side. It is good for
all of us, occasionally, to act like a macho asshole.
"Excellent!" I said. "Now, Dandy, take your top off and
show me your tits. It's dark, and no one outside the car
can see. Feel your nipples; pinch them and pull them."
Although it was dark, I could easily make out Dandy's
profile as she shed her white cotton shirt, and began to
touch herself. She started slowly, gently feeling her
nipples, but it wasn't long before her intensity
increased and the gentle touches gave way to slow,
gripping gropes. She was breathing hard, too.
As oncoming cars passed us by, their headlights allowed
me to see how her nipples responded: they became
enormously firm, proud and disproportionate to the size
of her lovely, small breasts. Big nipples on small tits
are nothing short of poetic: the promise of happiness,
some philosopher said in another context. I reached over
to feel them, to softly pull and pinch them myself, and
elicited a groan from the beautiful lady as she let me
take over.
"God, you're a pretty slut," I said. I didn't usually
talk this way to women, but now I HAD to. "Now, Dandy-
slut, I want you to open my pants and pull out my dick.
That's it. See how big it gets when it knows there's a
slut around. Now, suck it, cunt!"
She sucked it all right. She was a real artist: she knew
exactly how to tease a man; she brought me to the edge
several times before hauling me back again, panting from
the sweet agony of unfulfilled sexual union.
"Not bad." I tried to be nonchalant, but I could tell
she knew I was impressed, very. "But you're not having
any fun, are you slut? Listen, I want you to take your
pants and panties off, and sit Indian-style on the
seat." She did. I should not have been surprised, but I
was. This was great! Then I said: "Now, while you suck
me, you have to play with your cunt. That's right, stick
your fingers in that wet pussy. Smear your cunt juice
down your ass; rub it all over your pissy cunt. That's
right, slut, I want you to get good and wet. Cunts are
wet. Cunts are full of piss. Cunts get big, and puffy,
and rose-like when you touch them. They get wet when you
pee out of them.
Your ass-hole gets wet when cuntish piss flows down your
crack." I was damn near incoherent; that's how good she
was. "Now, Dandy, I want you to suck me till I come.
But, you have to come at the same time."
We hurtled down the highway pell-mell while I kept up
this constant chatter. Dandy was really getting into it;
every time I mentioned her cunt, she groaned with my
enormously expanded cock in her mouth. Her lips were
silky on my penis, and she used her teeth in a way that,
falling just short of pain, felt exquisitely real as
they raked their way up my swollen shaft.
Just when it was getting to be too much, she would stop
and use her tongue to retrace the tracks of the teeth to
soothe and cool, and every so often would turn her head
from side to side as she emitted low, humming noises.
Here was a woman to be celebrated! A woman who knew full
well that not every male orgasm was the same; that those
that are properly constructed in time will provide
physical and emotional side-effects that are not only
gratefully received, but long remembered.
"Dandy, I'm close! You'd better be, too, you cunt!" I
nearly screamed. By the looks of it, she was. As she
sucked me to perfection, I could tell that she had two
fingers up her pussy and was rubbing her clit furiously
with the other. "Yes. Yes." I babbled on. " I'm going to
come in your mouth! O Yes, you slut! Yes!" And it did
occur to me, as it must to you, that while I was
nominally in control, Dandy was calling all the shots. I
was as helpless and pitiful as newborn baby, responding
to each and every subtle manipulation of her great art
and heart; yet she was supposedly submitting to me.
I began pumping ropes of white semen down Dandy's
throat, just as she let out a muffled holler and jammed
her legs together over her hand. Perfection! I had
slowed the car in anticipation and was very glad that it
was so late at night; there were no other cars around
and we floated on through Georgia with only a slight
tremor and swerve.
When I had settled down a bit, and regained my
composure, I engaged her in conversation. She asked why
I was going to Jacksonville, I told her about my paper
and, to my utter delight, discovered that she had some
interesting and original ideas on poetic lust in the
post-industrial world. It never fails to impress me how
total novices can sometimes cut through layers of
academic fat and get to the heart of the matter. Yes,
yes, it may have been a bit childish, her idea, but
there was energy and originality there that had eluded
my colleagues. I made a mental note to steal her idea
for my talk the next day.
We got to Jacksonville late, very late, and Dandy
insisted that I stay with her, rather than the hotel
room reserved for me by the university. Of course, I
agreed, and called the hotel to let them know I would
not be coming, and to ask them to please inform the
Department, should they call, that I would be there for
my seminar at 2:00 the next day.
Her apartment was surprisingly elegant and cheery, and
was located near the harbor in an exclusive part of
town. Books lined the walls, providing a decor that made
me feel right at home. We were both exhausted, and I
fell asleep in seconds, hardly thinking of post-
industrial literature or sex.
The next morning I awoke feeling great, bursting with
ideas and eager to give my talk. Dandy was in the
shower, and as I waited for her I thought about what a
fantastic time we had had the night before. Before long,
my cock was hard again, and I gently played with it,
stroking it softly, rubbing the tip, and running my
fingers slowly over my balls. I was feeling downright
languorous, sexy and romantic, not at all bossy like the
night before.
"Good morning, Marc. Your turn. What a day! I love it
when it turns a bit cool like this." Dandy was looking
lovely. As if by chance, her robe drifted open as she
swept around to sit by me, and I stole a glimpse of her
soft, small breasts, and her silky mound, sprinkled with
its sparse thatch of down. There was indeed a cool
breeze blowing through the window and it made her
beautiful, too-large nipples stand stiff and puffy.
"And what's this!?"
She had turned back the covers, discovered my erect
member, and was expressing mock shock. Though she made
moves to touch it, and even bent over towards it so
close that I could feel her hot breath on me as she
stared in feigned surprise, no contact was made. She
left me twitching as she stood up and embraced herself
to secure the robe.
"You are absolutely filthy, Marc. Now get in the shower
and we will reevaluate the situation when you come
back."
She was right: I really was filthy and I made quick
tracks to the bathroom for a pee and shower. It is not
unusual that I wake with a hard-on but this morning was
different and I waited longer than usual on the seat
before enough flacidity had returned to enable me to pee
properly. Minutes later, the heat of the shower put me
in a state somewhere between extreme sensuality and
overpowering ennui: liquid, languorous, languid, fecund,
Rousseau, jungles, humid, post-industrial torpor, poetic
licentiousness, lusty, busty.
"On your knees you cur!! Get out of the fucking shower
THIS MINUTE you dog!! How dare you keep me waiting!"
I could have left. She wasn't at all big. A waif, just
like I said before. But I didn't. My lecture wasn't for
two hours, and the university wasn't far. Plus, was
terribly curious how I would respond to being dominated.
"Now come here, dog, and look at my cunt." As she
commanded me, she let her own robe fall off, scooted her
bottom to the edge of the bed, and opened her legs to
show me her beautiful pussy. "Just look. Don't touch!"
Now, I love vaginas. Whenever I see one, I am
thunderstruck anew. Hers was delicate, like her frame,
and the outer lips were small and rounded. While I did
not mind looking, as my cock swelled again, making me
look indeed like an obscene dog, it became harder and
harder not to touch. Her cunt meanwhile was changing,
ripening, glistening, opening, and beginning to emit
that astonishing earthy aroma. As I looked, she closed
her eyes.
"Lick my asshole. Don't touch my cunt! You dogs are all
alike. You like ass, don't you. Now lick!"
I really don't know who was calling the shots, but I did
lick it. She scootched her ass over the side of the bed
a bit more, and I began to gently caress the little
rosebud with my tongue. What could be lewder? This has
always gotten me as hard as a skiff pole.
My dick was twitching, and I felt like a dog. Dandy, was
in heat and began to moan. The juice dripped from the
cunt she refused to let me touch, and as it dripped it
fell across her tight little anus and on to my tongue. I
swallowed eagerly, a ran my tongue down her crack and to
her back, to allow the temperature around her asshole to
cool, so I could slowly approach it again. I teased her,
but I did her bidding. She kept moving her bottom to try
to make contact. Contact.
"Stop!" She screamed it, but I could tell there was
laughter behind the yelling and I could barely contain a
bright smile of my own.
Clearly, neither one of us was really cut out for this
domination stuff. "Now stand back, doggie, and watch a
minute. Look at me now." And as she said this, she
peeled back the engorged lips of her cunt to reveal what
to me is as breathtakingly gorgeous, in its own way, as
Turner sunset. Fully visible were the gaping void of her
tunnel, the excited convexity of her clit, and the tiny
mini-slit-opening of her pee-hole, all glistening and
fat and very nearly available. "Stop! Don't touch!" She
said. "I mean it. Now look at this..."
Picture this, reader. I was back on my haunches, dick
swollen and pointing straight up, poised between the
action of animal lust and the pure visual poetry of her
shimmering, boiling cunt. We were suspended in time and
I thought we might be there forever when it finally
happened. As I stared at her, the little urinary hole
above her tunnel began to change, acquire great
definition, pucker, open, and start to burble a pale
liquid that mingled imperceptibly with the viscous juice
of her pussy.
I had always wanted to see a woman pee, but now it was
simply too much. Oh, way too much! It shattered my
equilibrium, and put everything in motion at once. I
sprang to my feet, shoved her ass back on the bed, and
plunged my cock up her cunt. I vaguely remember her
shouting something like "FUCK ME, you dog! FUCK ME NOW!!
but that may have been my imagination.
I was beyond words; there was only one thing to be done,
and I was doing it: plunging, ramming, pistoning
(synonyms, I need synonyms!) nearly clubbing her with my
huge cock. I was only half-aware of the exquisite,
immediate, soft, womanly resistance of her cunt as I
split the walls on the first thrust. Mostly I just
fucked her, and was completely oblivious to her desires.
I really don't know if Dandy had an orgasm or not that
morning, but I sure did. It didn't take long, either,
and I felt like I was exploding as the white heat rose
up from my depths and shot into her body. Judging by her
laughter, I think Dandy got just about what she was
looking for, too, and we lay there just holding each
other for a long time, until I remembered why I was
there.
"My God! My lecture!" Time was short now, and we dressed
quickly, got in the car and drove off to the university,
where she let me out, said good-bye and wished me well.
"I hope Dr. Tyson likes it", she said as she closed the
car door. How sweet of her! I was really sorry to see
the last of Dandy, but only ten minutes remained until I
was due to speak and I was feeling bad that I had so far
completely ignored my hosts.
I soon found myself before the assembled group, but Dr.
Tyson had not yet arrived. Dr. Gordon asked me to wait,
as the eminent professor was expected any minute. Of
course, I was happy to do so, and even appreciative of
the extra minutes to think about Post-Industrial Lust
and Poetry.
All of a sudden, I froze. Into the room strode none
other than Dandy! I thought: "What the Hell is SHE doing
here?"
But before I could even begin to think of something
awkward and stupid to say, I heard Dr. Gordon intone:
"Ah, Dr. Tyson, at last! Laura come sit here so we can
begin."
The 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. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 69