Waited for so Long

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I am, and always have been, very shy. At school I was never popular, I think most people thought I was a geek. However, my next door neighbour Sarah was the most popular girl in the school, and we had always been friends.

It wasn't until I was about 12 that I understood why she was so popular. It wasn't so much that she was beautiful, more that she had some sort of sexy charisma. All the boys asked her out, and I was very jealous. Not just because they were more interested in her than me, but also because she was more interested in them than me. Because we lived next door, and my family were good friends with Sarah's, we spent a lot of time together. We talked a lot about boys, I had never had a boyfriend and she would tell me what she had done with her's. I got so turned on imagining myself doing the same things with Sarah, all my masturbation fantisies were about her. I was so obsessed I used to try and peer through our windows to see her getting changed. Unfortunately the only window in our house that faced her bedroom was my parents bedroom, and I didn't want my parents to cautch me perving on a girl.

Anyway, getting to the story.

One weekend when I was seventeen my parents went away for the weekend with Sarah's. We had told our parents that we would do something together, but Sarah really planned to spend the weekend with her boyfriend.

Soon after our parents left Sarah came round, she was dressed up to go out and looked amazing. My heart thumped seeing her look like that. I assumed she was on her way out, but she told me that her boyfriend had some reason why he couldn't see her. She seemed less annoyed than I would have expected.

She came in and we sat and chatted about nothing much. Soon Sarah said she felt a bit silly being so dressed up, so I jokingly suggested she borrow some of my clothes. She agreed which really suprised me as she would not normally be seen dead in the clothes I wear. We went up to my room and I told her put on anything she wanted whilst I went to the toilet.

I was so turned on by the idea of Sarah wearing my clothes, on the toilet I touched myself imagining Sarah stripping in my room. I had to hurry back scared that Sarah would guess why I was taking so long. I walked quickly into my room, looked across and saw Sarah standing naked. I had never seen her naked before and didn't know what to do, I briefly starred at her beautiful body, said sorry and turned to leave.

As I turned Sarah stepped towards me and said 'It's OK'. I stopped dead, I was so turned on, but also so embarressed. I was convinced she couldn't mean anything sexual. My pants were sodden and all I could smell was my juices. I knew that Sarah would realise how much I fancied her and would be disgusted.

I turned round, Sarah was admiring herself in my mirror. She caught my eye and said 'I want to see your body'. It sounded serious, but I was sure she was half joking. She walked past me towards the toilet and said, 'When I get back I hope you'll be naked'. I started to undress, I was still convincing myself Sarah didn't mean anything, but just the hope was getting me so excited. I stripped down to my underwear, but I was too uncomfortable to get naked. I heard the toilet flush, and footstep head towards my room. I caught a sight of my reflection and to my horror noticed that the blue pants I was wearing made it obvious how wet I was. I quickly pulled tham off and stuffed them down the back of a cupboard. As Sarah walked in I pretended to be casually removing my bra.

Sarah sat down on my bed. Feeling very exposed stood naked I quickly went and sat down on the other side. Very quickly I realised that I couldn't move or Sarah would see the wet patch I had left. We chatted about stuff, but I was so self conscious I don't remember what. On several occasions I thought I saw Sarah starring at my body, but didn't really believe it.

Finally Sarah said she was getting tired and had to lie down. She lay down where she was right on the edge of the bed. I told her not to be silly and that there was plenty of room. She slowly moved over, revealing an enormous wet patch where she had been sat. She looked at me with an expression as embarassed as I had been earlier. Immeditally I lay down next to her.

Sarah's self confidence seemed to have completely disappeared, but to see her like that made mine grow. I couldn't resist leaning forward and kissing her. She passionately returned the kiss, it was my first real kiss and it was amazing. Immediataly my hands started exploring her body, sliding first down her back, all over her bum and then down her leg. As I started to run my hand back up her in inner thigh I could feel us both trembling.

Whereas usually Sarah seem so confident now she seemed so unsure, it made me feel in control. I whispered in her ear 'Please touch me'. Slowly she slid her hand to my breasts and carressed my nipples, her hand carried on down and came to rest on my inner thigh.

Slowly I slid my hand up her thigh and she mirrored my action. I moved my forefinger until it rested on her clit, and she did the same. Slowly I slid my finger backwards and forwards, and I felt Sarah do the same. I was so close to orgasm, but I didn't want to come yet. Gently I slid a finger into Sarah's pussy, and she did the same. Now Sarah took the lead and inserted another finger then a third, I was shaking as I copied her. As I approached orgasm Sarah slipped her fingers out. I was suprised as I felt her start to gently stroke my asshole, I was very suprised as she started to push her finger firmly against my ass. Suddenly her finger slid inside me, it felt wonderful. I thought I better copy Sarah and slid my fingers out of her pussy, I pressed two fingers against her ass and felt her tense as they slid inside her.

I was so close to cumming, we were both thrusting our hips against each other. Sarah's other hand was rubbing my clit and mine hers, I could feel we were both tensing, about to cum. Sarah screamed, and came, this immediataly made me follow. We both collapsed arms around each other exhausted.

We chatted a lot that night, it turned out that Sarah has a lot of stories. I might try and persuade her to post some...


Gia Steele is a breath taking brunette hot babe and she is enjoying some alone time with her boyfriend in the bedroom. He straddles her on top of him and she grinds her gorgeous body against his crotch, feeling his bulge underneath his pajama pants. He makes her lay flat on her belly, still with her panties; bra and denim skirt on and eats out her ripe ass. Then he pulls down her panties, licking her pussy and rimming her asshole. This hot babe gets so wet when she gets her pussy licked by her man! After stripping his girl naked, he spreads her legs and gives her oral sex, finger fucking her before Gia takes control, grabbing his throbbing erection and stuffing it in her wet, hot mouth. With his big dick all lubed up with her drool, he raises her leg and fucks her sideways; her pussy is so slippery and tight! Hot naked babe straddles herself atop so he can fuck her harder and faster, pressing her against his body and feeling her plump tits on his hairy chest. He bends her over again so he can fuck her from behind some more before cumming all over her pretty fac


A Different Me

Sometimes, I am a different person when I am with my girlfriend. I like when she takes charge and makes me wear her thongs. She makes me say things like, "I'm a little slut and I love men." She has sex with me with phallic shaped objects, and it gets me so hot. She took pictures of me with a thong and her skirt on once and said it was just for us to look at. But, the next day, she came to my apartment with her best friend and her friend asked me if I was a little slut. She told me that she saw the pictures and wanted me to be her slut as well. It was the best time I've ever had.

— Ethan, 20


Beach Body Ch. 02

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Her body hurt worse the second day. Like it was angry at her. She rolled out of bed and cursed at her buzzing doorbell.

“I’m coming!” she yelled at it, clawing her way out into the hall. Her palm slapped against the intercom screen and the blue-filtered image of her father at the gate grinned up at the camera. She whacked the button to let him through then unlocked her front door before clambering onto her couch and sinking into the cushions.

She had almost drifted back to sleep by the time he stepped into the apartment. Adrian observed the mess of tangled limbs that was his daughter embedded in the couch. It looked uncomfortable but cozy at the same time.

“I brought juice,” the man clad in fitness gear offered, shaking a tall container of something green. Nora heard the sloshing but only murmured in response. “What’s that?” he said, leaning down and perking his ear.

“Go away dad I don’t wanna…” she groaned, turning her face into the back of the couch. Adrian shook his head and set down his things.

“Up you get, sleepy head,” he said, lifting her up under her arms, somehow unfolding his daughter until she was on her feet. She managed to stay upright but her eyes were still closed, her lips pouting. Just like when she was a kid, Nora was a bit of a drooler. It was adorable and Adrian couldn’t help brushing her messy hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. Nora’s eyes fluttered open and upon seeing her father she dropped back onto the couch reflexively. That was enough bratty behaviour, she decided, foggy brain whirring into gear.

“It’s too early for this,” she complained, wiping her mouth absently then trying to stretch back on her couch.

“Well it’s almost midday,” Adrian noted, turning to pick up one of the bottles of juice and passing it to her. She took it but just let it sit on her lap. “Late night?”

“Basically,” Nora conceded. At this point she mainly made her own schedule, but there was a release deadline last night that required her to stay up pretty late and forget about dinner. She undid the bottle at that thought and took a ginger sip of the green sludge. There was ginger in it, she noted, smacking her lips. It wasn’t as bad as it looked so she took a braver swig.

“But you have today off,” he recalled, which was true, but Nora was regretting scheduling another workout with her dad so soon. She would have much preferred to stay in bed and veg out for the entire day. Adrian would not let that happen of course. “Let’s get you moving then,” he announced, clapping obnoxiously then he leant down and started bodily pushing the couch back. Nora didn’t want to laugh as she was taken for a ride across the room and focused on not spilling her drink onto the upholstery. He clapped again and she winced at the sharpness in her ears. “Get changed,” he commanded. “Let’s get warmed up!”

The soreness was eased away from her muscles as she used them. She stepped up then stepped down and stepped up, in time with her father, mimicking how he swung his arms in case that was part of it.

Nora could appreciate the easy charisma of her father on this second session. She was mentally prepared this time at least, if not physically, so spent less time recovering from the shock to her body and more time watching him. His enthusiasm was infectious, and his encouragements were genuine. And he was so classically good looking. He had a bod. Not a dad bod. A bod, sculpted from years of hard work. So hard. Like marble.

She nearly slipped, missing her step up from the distracting, intrusive thoughts.

“Woop!” Her father took hold of her arm and steadied her. “Careful.”

She felt warm then. Granted she was already sweating, but the solidity of her father was so comforting. She felt so safe. Knew he wouldn’t ever let anything bad happen to her. “Squats!” he announced, shaking Nora from her misty mind. Well that was short lived.

“Good job today,” Adrian congratulated her. Nora didn’t bother lifting her head from the cool, though now slightly damp, kitchen counter. Everything burned, and while she was still having second thoughts about this whole endeavour she didn’t mind the now familiar ache. She didn’t want to move yet. “Are you going to wash up?” he asked, somewhere behind her and she raised a hand and gave a dismissive wave. “Alright I’ll go shower first. Drink,” he added, pushing the bottle nearer to her before taking his bag to her giant bathroom.

He took a deep breath before entering that place again. Nothing bad happened once he stepped through the threshold and his shoulders relaxed. He shook his head at his silliness and peeled off his sweat soaked shirt. Shorts and underwear were removed and he put them down neatly next to his bag. From the corner of his eye he spotted it. A hot pink spot of colour half hidden beside that laundry hamper. He leaned over and confirmed that… yep. That was his daughter’s pink dildo.

And for a moment he thought nothing bursa escort of it. Seeing it on the floor next to the basket of dirty clothes was almost reassuring and his instinct to clean up after his messy girl kicked in. He picked the thing up again, and indeed he wasn’t naive enough to think it just happened to fall out of the cabinet and roll across the bathroom floor on its own. Obviously his daughter had used it and then just forgot to put it away. So what?

He didn’t think twice as he went over to the sink and gave it a quick rinse. It was only when he started patting it dry on a hand towel, feeling the thick, protruding vein under his hand, did the reality of it hit him. He had a similar vein running in a similar position down his own shaft, and the mechanics of it all started to fill his head. Nora would have slid this thing inside of her… worked its thick head in… she would have felt its molded bumps and ridges and he wondered what kind of face she must’ve made… He gulped, unable to stop himself from imagining what kind of position she would have to get in to use it, and his body responded in kind. The heat filled him and his erection literally ballooned up next to his daughter’s thick dildo in his hand. Aside from the colour and slight difference in size it was almost like he was holding his twin. Which at some point in the last couple of days had been stuffed inside-

He threw the cabinet door open as he shook the thing a few more times for good measure to ensure that it was dry, and plopped it back into its place. He shut the door and stomped over to the shower head, flashing on the cold water. He shuddered at the chill, but after a few seconds it started to have the desired effect of subduing his desire. Adrian was not in the habit of masturbating in other people’s bathrooms, not the least in his daughter’s. He gradually increased the temperature of the water and slowly broiled the tension out of his broad shoulders.

Nora was glad for the aerobic intensity of that day’s workout, and the variety. Adrian seemed to throw as many different types of exercises at his daughter possible, likely to see what worked best with her. What would stick. That meant she could focus on how to properly do the next set of motions and not think about how she was sweating. And how he was sweating. And how it smelled so good when he sweat. And that it was making her sweat in places she really hoped he wouldn’t notice.

When her dad returned from his shower she was relieved to see him wearing a shirt. He was clean and dry too, though not completely odourless. There was just that recognizable dadness of his presence as he wafted past, a tinge of an earthy, iron smell that was always on his skin. Freshly showered the scent was even clearer without anything else to distract from it.

“You have to eat,” Adrian said, observing the inside of her fridge and obviously counting how many containers of his preprepared meals were still left. “You can’t exercise with no energy.”

She felt that lack of energy but it was post-workout so Nora didn’t get his point. She did perk up when he put another box of salad in front of her. She was surprised again by its deliciousness, the crispness almost making the pain in her thighs begin to subside. A wave of gratitude swept over her as she watched her father sit down to the meal.

“Thanks for doing all this dad,” she told him, which put an odd expression on the man’s face. Like he was scared of what was to come next, even if it was just emotional sincerity. Luckily he sensed she wasn’t going to cry and relaxed a little. “Work stuff’s been pretty crazy so all of this,” she went on, using her fork to indicate the food containers but also his training, “has really helped.” It had only been a couple of days since they started working out together but she was already glad for how it broke up her routine.

For the last few months Nora would work all day then eat some garbage before spending her downtime scrolling through social media in bed until she fell asleep. She didn’t even have the energy or time to play videogames. She would feel like crap the next day and rinse and repeat. Granted, she still felt like crap these last two mornings but it was different. Purposeful.

“No problem, baby girl,” replied her father graciously. He couldn’t help himself and gave her that cliched playful brush of his knuckles against her cheek. Nora suddenly felt her face burning and she stuffed as much shredded carrot into her gob as possible. Oblivious, Adrian went back to his salad with a chuckle. “Let’s go for a run tomorrow,” he suggested.

Nora nodded. Getting out of her apartment sounded like a good idea. It was a roomy place, but the air was starting to feel stuffy to her. There was a thrumming vibration on the counter and Nora watched her phone skitter along the surface before picking it up. She frowned at the messages. Urgent ones.

“God damnit,” she breathed, getting up and shaking her head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh bursa escort bayan it’s just work stuff,” Nora said. She waved a hand airily in place of further explanation. “I’ll be back in a minute.” Adrian nodded and watched his daughter retreat down the hall. After he finished his salad and saw hers was still on the table.

“Whoa…” he said as he stepped into what must have been Nora’s home office. She gave a quick glance at him over her shoulder. He had an awestruck expression as he took in the room, but seeing he was fine she returned to her computer.

“Do you need something, Dad?” she asked, distractedly tapping away at the keyboard and squinting at some numbers on her center monitor. She stopped when he placed something down in front of her. It was her unfinished lunch.

“No I’m good,” he said, taking a step back and putting his hands on his hips as he observed. She smiled at the salad and kept working.

“So you use all of these at once,” he stated behind her, amazement still in his voice. Nora raised an eyebrow, not sure what he was talking about.

“The screens I mean.” He pointed to her workstation setup. “You’ve got three and they’re all… they’ve all got stuff.”

“Oh… yeah it’s just easier for me to see everything,” she explained, a bit surprised by his interest.

“You’re a genius.”

“Dad, they’re just extra monitors,” she said, chuckling to herself.

“Did you set this all of this up?” he asked next, tilting his head at the neatly arranged cables behind the table. He seemed to catch himself. “Oh, sorry I’m interrupting you.”

“It’s okay,” Nora smiled. She picked up her fork and took a few seconds to eat. She could tell her father was admiring the technical marvel that was her computer system. Outwardly it was mostly dark metal with sleek lighting around some of the edges. Along with her three widescreen monitors and glowing mechanical keyboard it gave her desk the appearance of the control console on a futuristic starship. The truth of it was that building a computer wasn’t some highly complex engineering feat like he imagined. She knew that her dad had grown up working mostly with his hands and that he wasn’t the most academically inclined person. He preferred more athletic pursuits. Kicking balls on a field than sitting in a classroom. But Nora knew he wasn’t a dummy. She would blame bad teachers for her dad’s aversion to ‘book learnin’ rather than his natural ability. She knew for a fact that he had excelled in the courses he needed to get his personal trainer qualifications.

She almost didn’t want to break the illusion of her tech genius status but wanted to assure the man who raised her that computers were not scary, mysterious machines. “I can help you upgrade,” she offered. “How old is that box you have at home?”

Adrian looked away from the screens to his daughter then scratched his head.

“Not sure,” he said thoughtfully. “Just use it to check emails and pay bills.”

“You can do all of that with your phone,” sighed Nora. He probably didn’t need his computer for work either, but the chunky rig Nora had put together for herself wasn’t required for her work. Its power was for gaming. “We’ll upgrade your computer and you can stop being a console scrub,” she decided. Of course, she wasn’t some PC Master Race proponent, she had a set of the latest generation consoles slotted into her entertainment system too, but gaming was one commonality she shared with her dad. Adrian gave a grunting sort of laugh.

“Well I don’t want to be no scrub,” he responded, almost but not quite singing (and getting the lyrics wrong anyway). She rolled her eyes but he grinned. “Okay let’s do it.”

Nora got the sense that he agreed more so to be able to spend time with her, and she wouldn’t complain about that.

“Okay I’ll just be a couple more minutes,” she told him, putting down her salad for the moment.

“I’ll get out of your hair. Take your time,” her father said as he backed away. “Finish your lunch.”

“Yes dad.”

It was an hour later and Nora wandered back into the kitchen rubbing the stiffness out of her neck. She didn’t see her dad and felt like a bad daughter as she put her empty lunch container into the sink. There was a soft noise that made her turn to the couch. Her old man was laid out in it, quietly dozing. Seeing him start to stir awake to her presence made her feel even worse.

“Oh hey,” he murmured, slowly sitting up. “This couch is really comfy.”

“Sorry that took longer than I thought. They had trouble restarting all the servers and… anyway thanks for lunch and everything,” she said, still guilt ridden that she had just left her dad alone in her apartment for so long. He yawned and stretched an arm up, shoulders giving a loud and satisfying crack under his thick muscles.

“Honey I just had a nice nap,” he said. “You’re the one who had to work on your day off.” He gave her escort bursa a sleepy hug and Nora went stiff. She could smell him again, but more importantly she could smell herself now since she still hadn’t taken a shower. Her father didn’t seem to mind. “See you tomorrow,” he said as he picked up his bag. “Don’t have a late night. Have a proper afternoon off.” Nora nodded and quickly went over to help him with the door, not that he needed it. “And take a shower,” he added, wrinkling his nose and then he left. She nodded again, to nobody. But a shower was a good idea.

She stripped off in front of her hamper this time and tossed everything into it for once. She ignored her reflection as she crossed to the showerhead and let the water stream over her face. It was difficult to wash her hair at first, her arms shaking when she raised them above her shoulders. She contended with the soreness and tried to focus on how nice the shower felt. She was just about done cleaning when she got that twinge again. Maybe it was just the work stress triggering her, but whatever it was she turned off the tap and waved the steam away from her face.

She searched the floor for Mister Tulip, trying to remember where she had put him but failing to place her thoughts. She went over to check the cabinet then, body dripping but the air was warm and wet. The dildo was in there, where it was meant to be kept, and Nora figured she must have put it back even if she couldn’t remember doing it. She didn’t care and went back to the shower area, which really only separated from the rest of the bathroom by virtue of the different coloured tiles on the floor. The walls were still damp and she wiped a spot on it with her palm. She spat on the suction cup base of Mister Tulip then stuck him to the tile at groin height.

She winced a little as she got on her knees, the hard floor still holding a bit of warmth from her showering. She licked her lips then kissed the wobbling tip, her actions almost ritualistic. Then she started to take it in her mouth. As she stretched her lips around it she felt the warmth between her legs spread. In her mind she was ‘practicing’. She practiced a lot, but really she simply liked having this thickness press down on her tongue. The shape of it filling her mouth. Nora had a bit of an oral fixation.

She would’ve blamed her second (and pretty much last) serious boyfriend in college. Lengthy Lars she ended up calling him, a nickname she came up with a few months after their breakup. He had a long dick, as the name implied, and while she didn’t mind giving blowjobs before him, LL unlocked something in Nora she never quite found the key for ever again.

She recalled the first time he reached the top of her throat and how she gagged. And how fucking wet she instantly got. Even that memory, as overused as it was in her masturbation sessions, turned her on easily. She had been eager to get better and Lengthy Lars was an enthusiastic trainer. Mister Tulip was the replacement for that sensation now. For Lars. Thicker (and pinker) than he had been, by now she was able to take all but two inches of the dildo down her throat on the second, if not first try. A bit more spit and a bit more jawing and she would have those pink plastic balls against her chin.

She squeezed her watery eyes shut and touched herself, her arousal seeping out, warm and wet over her finger tips. She knew her nipples were diamond hard and her pussy clenched around her knuckles. She loved the overwhelming feeling of deepthroating. The ‘danger’ of it. The strange comfort of it. That lump. She reeled her head back, leaving thick and sticky saliva along the toy’s veiny shaft and held the tip in her mouth. She breathed and fingered herself, quivering. Then she went for it again, sliding Mister Tulip all the way down, her gag reflex gone. The solid thing trembled in her throat as she rubbed her clit.

“Blaahg!” she gasped as she pulled off it again, this time completely. It waggled in front of her and she shuddered from the miniorgasm she’d brought on herself which passed quickly. Nora needed to be filled a different way now and got to her feet. It was a more complicated process than she realised it would be, her joints fighting against screaming muscles as she lifted her knees. She grabbed onto one the silver safety bars on the wall and cranked herself up, really feeling the aftermath of her sudden exercise regime. Dad and his stupid squats. Dad and…

A creeping sensation ran up her back. She thought back to the dildo being in the cabinet. She recalled when she used it the other day, fucking herself on the bathroom floor, and then she climaxed and then she left. She hadn’t put him back. But he had somehow gotten back into his spot. And the only person who could have- …She pictured her father now, dildo in hand after picking it up probably off the middle of the floor. What would he have been thinking? And why did he put it away? How did he know where it was meant to go in the first place?? The panic thudded in her ears, but the blood rushing around her body only made her warmer in her currently throbbing groin. She shook her head to get the image of him out of there. She couldn’t think about the logistics right now.

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A Great Volume of Trouble
by T.S. Fesseln

It was a perfect day for reading, at least, that is what Erika thought. Looking out of her used bookstore window at the gray drizzle that cloaked the morning, she thought it gave the old main street a forlorn Dickensian look. On a day like today, she could see herself curled up in her armchair with a Kay Hooper mystery and a glass of wine. Too bad nobody else this morning felt that same way. The drizzle seemed to keep everyone inside.

Erika was not what one would picture as a book dealer. Most pictured her as a quiet, librarian type with her hair up in a bun and an ugly pair of 1950’s glasses. No, Erika could have been a model if she had so wished. At six-foot, her lithe figure was as sleek as a giraffe and her long, ash-blonde hair and blue eyes helped finish her Valkerian good looks. Erika did wear glasses, but they were much more stylish and they were for reading only.

The bookseller always tried to dress smartly and today was no exception to her inner fashion model. She wore a tight ivory-colored blouse and grey suit jacket with a matching skirt that stopped just above her knees. Erika also felt a bit sexy today so instead of her normal pantyhose, she decided upon a pair of smoke-colored stockings and garter belt with a pair of black lace panties. There were days like today she liked to flaunt her womanhood and tonight she would make sure her husband would benefit from it.

The book-dealer’s chore for the day was going through the three boxes of books she had won at an estate auction. For the most part, they were turn-of-the-century volumes by Kipling, Twain and Stephenson. They had that wonderful old book smell to them and were in superb condition with only a little sun-fading to mar their gilded spines. There were several she hadn’t recognized the titles of, so she set them in a stack to research a bit later. She had also taken a few intriguing books home to read after her husband would call it a night. Like her, her husband had long hours in the field and was comfortably worn out by ten o’clock. Erika, on the other hand, couldn’t shut her eyes until at least midnight so those became her reading hours.

Erika was fully engrossed in grading a series of English history books when the bell chimed above the door. Coming in was an attractive couple both dressed in dark suits that screamed ‘professional’. The man was tall, carried a large satchel briefcase and filled his suit quite nicely. His head was bald and he sported a graying mustache and goatee. His companion was shorter brunette with alluring green eyes and a no nonsense look about her.

“May I help you?” Erika asked, stepping out from behind the counter.

“I certainly hope so,” the woman spoke with a slight English accent, “You purchased just recently a portion of the McQuade estate’s library?”

Red flags went up in Erika’s head.

“Yes,” the blonde answered cautiously.

The woman glanced at her partner before turning back to Erika, “Very good. There has been a mistake made when the estate was disposed of, mainly, several books that Mr. McQuade had borrowed from our client and had not returned to him before Mr. McQuade had passed.”

“I see,” Erika said, “And do you have a list of titles? I can set the volumes aside as I sort through and give you a call back if any are in my purchase.”

“Actually, there is only one title we have not tracked down yet, ‘The Care And Treatment Of Particularly Fair Women’ by Dr. Geoffrey Brand. Our client is eager to get that particular book back into his collection.”

Erika recalled immediately the book the woman was asking about. It was one that she had selected to take home and peruse. The title bemused her and she wanted to see what Dr. Brand had to say.

“Well, I will see what I can do but I have yet to go through these boxes. If you would like to leave a phone number I would gladly. . .”

“Quite frankly, we don’t have time,” the woman interrupted, “We are only here for a day or two before heading back to England. So if you would kindly go through these boxes now, we will wait and take the book when you get to it.”

Erika was starting to get a bit impatient with these two and her impatience was slowly starting to turn to anger.

“First of all, Ms. Ah. . .”

“Roberts,” the woman said.

“I really don’t have proof that that book is your clients. You will have to provide some way of showing that it is his,” Erika continued, “Second, I bought these books in good faith so if the volume you want is in here, I will gladly sell it to you for a fair price but not before I am ready to do so.”

The couple both looked a bit disturbed by this.

“I see,” the woman said as the man started towards the front door, “I am afraid we cannot provide any of the evidence of ownership you are looking for. . .”

Erika noticed the man turning the lock shut and flipping the open sign to closed.

“. . .and as for compensation for your purchase of the book, well, again, my client is very adamant about not having to purchase the book twice, since it cost him dearly the first time.”

Erika tried to keep her cool and slowly started to back towards the counter and the phone. She had no silent alarm and the alarm system she did have would require her to punch in several numbers and she didn’t think she would have time to do that before the couple was upon her. The phone at this point was her best option.

“Please see it from our client’s point of view,” the brunette continued, “It is his property and he has a right to get it back.”

“Is his name plate inside the book?” Erika asked, stalling as she continued to slowly back up.

The woman matched her step for step and the man was making his way towards her as well.

“My client didn’t say,” Miss Roberts said.

Erika turned and ran but the woman was prepared for just that and grabbed a hold of the bookstore owner. Erika turned and tried to pry the woman off when the man grabbed her as well, pinning her arms to her sides.

The blonde began to scream but the brunette produced a dark rag from her coat pocket and stuffed it quickly into her mouth as Erika kicked and struggled futilely. The pair then wrestled the blonde to the floor and pinned her there; taking her wrists and pinning them to her back.

The brunette, Miss Roberts, opened up the leather satchel that the man had brought in and brought out a pair of glinting handcuffs. In a wink, they had her wrists tightly locked behind her back. The same fate befell her ankles before they turned her over.

“We are sorry to have to do this, but we really do need that book,” the woman said, knelling down and brushing the stray blonde hairs out of Erika’s face.

The man went over and turned off the lights then whispered to the woman who nodded and went behind the counter and pulled out a pad of paper and a marker.

‘They had prepared for just this,’ Erika thought as she squirmed a bit on the floor trying to force her way out of the handcuffs.

The man knelt down beside the bound woman and pulled from the satchel a small coil of rope. Erika watched with morbid fascination as the man quickly tied her knees together, cinching them tight but not so much as to cut off her circulation. He rolled her over and quickly did the same to her elbows, making them almost meet in back of her.

Erika then felt him unlock her cuffs, but her freedom was brief as he tied more rope around her fluttering hands. Again, he did the same with her ankles then forced her feet back and cinched them to her wrists in a tight hogtie. Lastly, the man tied a small rope over her mouth, forcing the rag to stay crammed in her mouth.

The brunette returned with the sign she had written. It looked close enough to Erika’s handwriting that it was scary:

“Closed due to an emergency. Will open tomorrow.”

Quickly the couple began to search the store. The brunette began with the box of books from the estate she hadn’t gone through yet and the man disappeared down one of the aisles, presumably to find the title if it had already been placed on the shelves. While they ignored her, Erika writhed on the floor, trying to find some kind of slack in her bonds. The man had done his job well, however, and Erika began to get sore from the effort.

“Enjoying yourself, dear?” the brunette asked, looking down at her captive.

Erika shook her head no and mewled into her gag.

“That is really too bad, really. You know, you look absolutely scrumptious lying there all bundled up. I would pay more attention to you, dear, but we have our client to consider.”

‘What did that mean!’ the thought screamed through Erika’s head.

The man came back to the woman, “It is not on the shelves.”

The man’s voice was the kind of deep, gravely voices one associated with mobsters save for the English accent.

The pair went to look at the boxes again not-too-carefully, throwing the books in a pile as they check the titles. Again, Erika struggled, causing her skirt to ride up her leg and revealing the top of her stocking. It was her modesty that stopped her from struggling more and enticing the pair to do more than robbing the store.

After whispering a bit, the man left out the back door and Ms. Roberts squatted down beside her captive.

“Erika, may I call you Erika? That is the name on your business listing.”

The bound woman just stared back at the brunette with her lagoon blue eyes, not moving.

“You have built quite a lovely store, Erika Adams: Proprietor. Probably took many years to build this sort of inventory, I suspect. And quite a number of pounds. . .I’m sorry, dollars. I travel so much sometimes I forget where I am. Where was I? Yes, there must be thousands of dollars in old books on these shelves. . .”

Just then, the man returned with a gasoline can in hand.

“. . .It would be a shame to see all these lovely volumes go up in flames. I am sure your are insured, but the money can’t replace that wonderful set of ‘Journeys Through Bookland’ sitting in that counter, now could it?”

Erika slowly nodded her head.

“Can you remember that scene in Fahrenheit 451 with all of those books going up in flame, Erika Adams?”

Again, Erika nodded her head. Inside her was tied up in gut-wrenching knots of fear and she closed her eyes tightly, trying to make everything go away.

“We can avoid all of that unpleasantness if you tell us where our client’s book is. Marx here is going to untie your gag and you are going to tell us where the book is. If you scream, dear, it will be the last sound you will ever make. Do I make myself clear?”

Terrified, Erika nodded.

“Good. Then we have come to an arrangement. Marx, would you be so kind as to un-gag Mrs. Erika Adams.”

The bound blonde felt the knot being untied behind her head the Marx unwound it from holding in the cloth. Not-to-gently, Marx then pulled the black cloth from out of Erika’s mouth.

“It’s at home,” Erika gasped, “Untie me and I will take you there to get it.”

Erika hardly got the words out before Marx shoved the cloth back into Erika’s mouth and retied the rope hold it in there, this time tighter than before. The nylon rope felt as if it was cutting into the sides of her mouth.

“Thank you, dear,” the brunette said, patting Erika on the head, “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

The couple left Erika hogtied on the floor while they fetched Erika’s handbag and got out her keys and wallet. She watched them look at her driver’s license and write down the address as they consulted the yellow pages map. They whispered a few things to each other then the man grabbed the gasoline can and went out the back door, her keys in his hand.

Ms Roberts knelt down beside Erika again, “We are going on a little trip to your house, Erika, and you will be coming with us. It would be dangerous to leave you tied up like this here. Things happen. Now, I don’t want much fuss out of you. It is better for the both of us, dear.”

The brunette woman began to stroke her leather gloved fingers through Erika’s hair, almost lovingly.

“I can imagine your husband enjoys your many gifts, Erika, your quite an attractive woman. . .”

An icy dread began to trickle through Erika as she laid there bound, her hands squirming in their tight bonds trying to find some way of getting out of this.

The man came back, “Ready.”

“Here is the thing, dear Erika,” the woman said, “We are about to go so promise me that you won’t make a fuss.”

The bound blonde just stared wide-eyed at the woman.

“Promise me or I will leave you alone here with Marx.”

Erika nodded, sobbing into her gag. She still couldn’t twist her mind around what was happening to her. Together, the strangers picked her up off the floor and carried her to the back door and to the alley behind the store. There idling was her Buick and the trunk was already open. Quickly the couple set her inside and closed the trunk lid down, plunging her into darkness.

Once again, Erika struggle futilely at her bondage as she felt the car being driven. Even though it was a large trunk, Erika was beginning to feel very claustrophobic bound there in the dark.

She didn’t think that the couple would kill her. They would have done that already since they had everything they needed to get into her house and get their precious book. She had wished she had read that book last night to see what kind of book it was to drive someone do such a thing. She could see someone resorting to theft for a copy of Blake’s ‘Tales of innocence and experience’ or a first edition of Poe’s ‘Mystery and Imagination’, but she had never had even heard of this author nor the book.

Erika lived about a forty minute drive away in a new, comfortable suburb. It gave Erika plenty of time to try to affect an escape. She scooted around, feeling for anything to try to loosen or cut the cords binding her hands. She wished she had paid more attention to how the trunk was laid out and what was inside.

Then the car slowed, then stopped.

“They couldn’t have gotten there already,’ Erika thought to herself, ‘No, they couldn’t have.’

Then the car started up again only to drive the short distance into the garage. She heard the door open and the latch on the trunk pop open. Erika looked up at the brunette, this time she was wearing a blonde wig.

“I am so glad you had a garage door opener, dear, it saved us from trying to sneak you in,” she smiled.

Erika looked around but she didn’t see the man.

“Don’t you worry, Erika Adams, Marx is letting himself in the front and soon will meet us her to take you inside,” the woman said, taking off her wig.

“For the neighbors, dear,” she said, “Behind the tinted glass you would really have to look to see that it wasn’t you. However, no one was peeking out their curtained little windows so we are all safe with our little secret.”

A few moments later, the bald-headed Marx appeared by her side. Without a word, he wrestled her out of the trunk and carried her inside, following the brunette.

“Let’s take her into the bedroom where she will be a bit more comfortable,” Erika heard the woman say as Marx took her through her living room and up the carpeted stairway, carrying her like a sack over his right shoulder.

The bedroom was one place Erika did not want to be put. The brunette’s words and her gentle caresses still echoed in her mind. The blonde yelled into her gag and shook her head as Marx continued to carry her.

“Now, now, dear. Everything will turn out as it is supposed to if you stop making a fuss,” Miss Roberts smiled as she followed Marx up the stairs, “So please, Erika Adams, please stop. . .”

Then the brunette leaned forward and whispered into the brunette’s ear, “. . .you are making my horny.”

Marx felt his squirming bundle stop squirming as he made his way through the bedroom doors. The master suite was large and dominated by a huge mission-style bed, a perfect place to put her while they searched for the book. The bed was high enough off of the floor that their captive would think twice before trying to wriggle her way off of it. Marx carefully set the woman down while his partner crawled up in bed beside her.

“Home, sweet home dear,” the brunette smiled as she curled up facing Erika, “Now, Marx here is going to take that nasty gag out of your mouth again and you are going tell us exactly where you have put our client’s book. Any fuss and we may have to do things you may not enjoy. Do you understand that, dear Erika?”

Erika nodded her head. The sooner these people were out of her life, the better.

“That’s a good girl,” the brunette patted her on the head.

Once again, she felt the ropes around her head loosen and Marx extracted the black cloth. So took a minute to swallow before replying to the couple’s question.

“It is right beside you,” Erika said, “On my nightstand. Please let me. . .”

Marx pushed the cloth back into her mouth and retied the rope holding it in.

The brunette rolled over and looked and sure enough, there was the book; a small, burgundy leather bound book with its title embossed in gold leaf. It was an once-in-a-lifetime moment. Here it was, Dr. Geoffrey Brand’s manual for the husbands of his graduates. For decades, Dr. Brand hosted a training school for women second-to-none, teaching his wards submissiveness and the sexual arts not practiced on the continent. His time in India coupled with his concubine Indira made for a magical blend of ‘classes’ in his school. Within the covers of that book were basically how to treat your slave/wife including the riding-crop commands she was expected to obey. Only several hundred of these were ever produced, one for each ‘graduate’. And now she and Marx would have their own copy to use.

Quickly the brunette rolled off of the bed and picked up the small book. In her hands, it felt like the holy grail.

“Thank you, dear Erika, you do not know how much this means to our client,” the brunette turned back to the bound woman, “Now we have to prepare you for your husband’s return!”

It was the gleeful way the strange woman had said it that sent icy daggers through her gut. They had the book why wouldn’t they just go.

The brunette rolled Erika over onto her front while her partner undid her hogtie. After undoing the rope, the couple rolled Erika back over where the brunette climbed back into the bed and straddled the poor, bound woman.

Erika began to struggle anew as she felt the man’s hands reach and her skirt and unfastened its hooks. Erika bucked and squirmed as much as she could but it was in vain as she felt her skirt’s zipper being pulled down.

“Now, now, dear Erika, it isn’t what you think,” Miss Roberts said as she looked into Erika’s blue eyes and smiled, “Or maybe it is!”

Erika felt her skirt being pulled off over her bound legs. She now regretted this morning’s decision to wear her garter belt and stockings. Her black lace panties covered very little and was meant for her husband’s eyes only.

Looking behind her, the brunette grinned, “I see you dressed for the occasion.”

Erika felt the embers of her embarrassment flushing her skin red as she felt her suit jacket being unbuttoned slowly. The bound woman closed her eyes tightly as each button was slipped out of its hole. Erika also felt each of her shoes being taken off and cast aside.

Nearly every woman has had fantasies about being raped and Erika was no exception. Teenage dreams of pirates and gold and being bound and taken to far away lands fueled her dreams and choices of romance novels. Yet she had never taken it further than that and neither had her boyfriends or her husband. If they had fantasies, they kept them to themselves, unlike their hands.

Now Erika was in that taboo fantasy world as she wasn’t sure that she was liking it.

Erika felt her jacket being open up and she knew the buttons on her blouse would be next. Instead, she felt the brushing of the brunette’s fingertips over her breasts through the blouse, gently teasing at her nipples.

“Yes, I thought so dear, you are enjoying this a bit, aren’t you?” the brunette said.

Erika flushed from embarrassment again. The gentle caresses caused her nipples to stiffen and sent little sparks of pleasure swirling through her like fireflies. Slowly she felt the buttons of her blouse being undone as the brunettes warm fingertips traced over her skin.

The ropes around the statuesque blonde’s ankles loosened as Marx gently untied them, only the tie a loop around each of her ankles, drawn tight around one of the posts on either side of her footboard. The rope around her knees was next, cast away like her skirt.

Then Marx pulled on each of her ankle ropes, pulling her legs apart.

Erika began pleading into her gag and shaking her head.

“Quiet, my dear Erika, quiet,” the brunette whispered quietly as she continued to unbutton the bookseller’s silken blouse.

As her legs were stretched apart as far as they could go, the last button parted from its hole and the woman opened Erika’s blouse revealing the blonde’s large breasts and pale pink nipples stiff from the brunette’s attentions.

Erika felt the woman gently ease the blouse off of her shoulders along with her jacket. She then watched helplessly as the bald-headed man lifted her up into a sitting position and the woman put her arms around her to keep her there. Erika felt her elbow’s bonds being loosened and removed and her jacket and blouse pushed down her arms past her rope-sore elbows.

Then Marx retied them and then did the same with her wrists, pulling both her jacket and blouse off but instead of retying them, he forced them in front of her where the brunette grab a hold of each wrist.

“Now remember what I said about making a fuss,” the brunette said looking into Erika’s eyes.

Erika felt the ropes around her elbows part again and for a brief second she thought about fighting of this woman, but she knew she couldn’t with her legs still bound as they were. More than likely, it would end in a painful lesson so she didn’t struggle as Marx retied her wrists in front of her and pulled them over her head, forcing Erika to lay back onto the bed as he lashed her wrists to the slatted headboard until she could hardly move.

Again, Erika was struck by the fact that everything about this seemed smoothed and practiced, as if the couple had done this time and time again. She watched helplessly as Marx gathered up her clothes and left the bedroom.

Still straddling the blonde, the woman began to gently pinch Erika’s nipples, sending more warm flickers of pleasure sparking though her and causing her to moan quietly behind her gag.

“Now that we are alone,” the brunette whispered, “I just wanted to say how tempting you are, bound here on your bed. Now, where do you keep your marital aids, Erika Adams dear?”

Erika glanced briefly over at her nightstand before realizing what she had done.

“Thank you, dear.”

The brunette rolled off of the bound woman and opened the drawer. There was amongst the reading glasses and highlighters and flashlights a pair of vibrators and some lotions. Both vibes were of the battery operated kind that suited her just fine. Taking some K-Y, the brunette lubricated the vibrator generously before kneel between Erika’s spread legs. Erika watched helplessly as her captor eased her lace panties over and spread her lips. She could feel the nudge of the vibrator as the brunette gently pushed it inside of her, making sure it was all the way in before putting Erika’s panties back in place.

“Now, dear, we will be leaving you, but,” the brunette turned on the vibrator on high, “but we will leave this to keep you company until your husband come home. I will write him a very sexy letter asking him to take every advantage of your situation until he has had his fill. Marx is leaving the trail of your clothes to lead him here and I can imagine it won’t take him long at all to enjoy your many treasures while you are a bit on the helpless side. By the time your romance is ending we will be very far away. So, Erika Adams, enjoy our little parting gift.”

With that, the brunette kissed Erika on the forehead and produced from the jacket pocket a black velvet scarf which she tied over the blonde’s eyes.

“Again, sweet dreams, Erika Adams.”

As the brunette left, she could a sworn she heard the bound woman moan as if in pleasure. Yes, her husband was in for the treat of his life.

Permission is granted for private use. The author wishes any agencies that wish to publish this work, to please contact him at FESSELN1@aol.com. Or visit his weblog at http://fesselnsfiction.blogspot.com/ .
If you enjoyed this story and would like to see more of my writings, please e-mail me at FESSELN1@aol.com. Any and all comments are welcomed and appreciated.


Chastity with Ex as Keyholder Part 2

Written by , on 2016-10-08, genre bondage

From what I could remember the following morning, I had definitely done something stupid. My memory became fuzzy after she had left. Just as she had predicted, I surfed the web and looked at my saved cache of porn. Unable to get off on it, I drank more and stayed up later than usual until everything became a blur and I woke up on the couch, still dressed in the corset and nylons.

Good thing I had the day off.

Work! How could I deal with wearing this chastity contraption at work? Would people be able to see it? I wouldn't have to deal with this problem for several days, but it was still a problem. Would my ex let me out by then, regardless of that one week deal she had promised? Maybe if I played the work card, she'd agree the game was over and everything would be back to normal.

Without thinking, I tried dialing her phone, but only got her voicemail. I tried again with the same result. Great, she was ignoring my calls.

Well, I'd have to deal with this chastity device for the day, plus the next day until she came over that night.

Showering almost made me forget I was wearing it. The hot water worked its way into the vent holes and rinsed what it could from inside the cage. I wasn't sure if this would be adequate and made a mental note to ask my ex about possible weekend cleanings. Wait, what? Weekend cleanings? What was I thinking about? This was supposed to only go on for one week max, maybe less if I could convince her to let me out the next time she came over.

Regardless of the future, I had to deal with being locked in this thing in the present. Pulling on some jeans, I studied myself in the mirror. There was a very slight bulge, but nothing too noticeable. In fact, it'd probably take someone actually bumping into my crotch to actually know something wasn't normal. Even then, who's going to bump into your dick and say, "Hey, your dick isn't right!"

So at least the going out in public factor was going for me. Could I still exercise in this thing? Only one way to find out, I suppose. Although, I'd avoid using the showers at the gym.

Trying on my loose workout clothes, I could barely make out any sign of the chastity device. Well, how often do people really look at your crotch, anyway?

Since this was my day off, after all, and I was still slightly hung over, a good workout sounded like the cure. The Ex wasn't answering my calls so I decided to say screw it and go to the gym despite my chastity situation.

Everything was going normally. I locked my stuff in my locker, then went to my usual machine and started running. Then, as if by some sixth sense, I began to notice each and every female in visible distance, especially the hot brunette in the row in front of me wearing only tight spandex shorts and sports bra

Without warning, my cock pressed against its cage. Trying to ignore the sensation, I continued with my routine, but couldn't avoid staring at the hot brunette. Her legs were perfect, and the tight shorts hugged her firm ass. Luckily, she was oblivious with her iPod and magazine. I began to wonder if her sweaty feet would smell like my ex's, or if they'd be different.

Stop, I told myself. Just stop. This is crazy. You're just overly horny and we'll fix this the next time she comes over.

Regardless of reason, I couldn't help but ogle the hot brunette. Each movement showcased her toned, tight little body. I couldn't see her face so I had no idea how old she was, but she couldn't be more than early twenties, just my age range.

Shouldn't there be rules that women have to wear knee length shorts and a t-shirt or something? I mean, just wearing tiny spandex shorts and a tank top just invites men (or women) to feast their eyes. It's not my fault; it's really hers, right? She shouldn't be wearing such skimpy clothing to begin with!

At some point, her exercise ended and I watched sadly as she walked away from her machine. Oh well, my own workout was nearly done so I sweated out the last few minutes. Walking back to the men's room, I noticed the hot brunette standing there, as if waiting for someone.

Huh, strange, I thought shrugging it off until I was within speaking distance.

"Are you a pervert? I don't appreciate being someone's piece of meat," she said, arms crossed, looking directly at me.

Completely guilty and bewildered, I did the only thing I could think of. I told her the truth.

"You are right and I am completely sorry. You just have such a fantastic body, I couldn't keep my eyes off you. If having a perfect body is crime, then you're the guilty one, I should say. I really did not mean to offend you, but honestly, how can anyone not admire you?"

Her aggressive demeanor suddenly became more relaxed and she actually smiled.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Jack," I replied.

"I'm Kara."

"Nice to meet you," I said.

"And you must have a silver tongue because I was about ready to kick your ass for being such a pig back there. I mean, you must have been staring at me for over twenty minutes straight before I decided to call it quits and wait for you here."

"Guilty. But, my argument is still true. A beautiful woman with minimal, tight fitting clothing will always guarantee the glaring interest of any males in the vicinity. I am guilty of being a male, and that is all I can admit to being guilty of."

To my surprise, she actually giggled. Not to say I never had any luck with women, but I never tried to hook up with anyone at the gym, especially not anyone of Kara's caliber.

"Okay, I can see you're not a complete creep. You do flatter a girl after creeping her out, so I'll give you that. What are you doing tonight?"

"Hopefully hanging out with this cute brunette I just met at the gym," I said despite myself.

What the hell was I doing? And how was I being so damn charming? Was my disabled cock sending commands to my brain somehow? Regardless, I had apparently initiated a date that would not be able to end in a one-night stand due to my limited cock access.

"Meet me at The Roasted Bean tonight at 6. I'll be there catching up on some work. I'm sure you won't stand me up," she said smiling seductively, propping one of her perfectly sculpted legs in my direction.

And with that she was gone.

I had neglected to discuss with my ex what would happen if I did, in fact, meet someone!

Still, beneath it all I couldn't help but sadistically enjoy what was happening. My ex had my balls and cock with lock and key and I would eventually need to ask her permission to have sex with another woman. How many ex's can say they've felt liberated by that situation?

And to my utter and complete surprise, my cock seemed to hum along with the situation and pressed tightly against its cage. How could I ever make anything truly happen with this hot brunette if my ex had complete control of my cock?

How ironic that my first day in enf***ed chastity would result in me meeting a potentially awesome girlfriend. I tried calling my Ex, but she wouldn't answer. I knew I could drive down to the local Home Depot and get some bolt cutters to get the chastity device off, the little lock wasn't indestructible. But, then I'd have to answer to my Ex the following evening and potentially face the wrath of a testosterone driven gym freak of a male.

Well, I told myself, it's only a first date. She doesn't seem like the type to expect anything on a first date so maybe if I can just play it cool everything will work out. Maybe I can explain it to my Ex and she will understand and we can both move past this whole misunderstanding.

Later that night, I met up with Kara at the coffee shop. She wore some short jean shorts and a tight black tank-top.

"Can I get you anything?" I asked approaching her table, my cock instantly trying to produce a spontaneous erection that was hindered by my tight little cage.

"No, I'm good. Go ahead and get yourself something and sit down."

I'm not one for fancy coffee, so I ordered whatever the house blend was and sat down opposite Kara.

"So what work can possibly keep you working past normal hours?" I asked, sipping my brew.

"Oh, nothing much. So what do you do?" she asked.

"I do some IT work for a local company. We help setup local small businesses and such, help them get their internet, servers, and workstations figured out."

"Sounds stable enough. So do you normally pick up girls from the gym after having them almost kick the crap out of you?" she asked smiling.

"Normally they kick the crap out of me first, and then I offer to take them out. So this is a first for me."

"Well, you didn't ask me, did you? I asked you here."

"I suppose you are right. So why didn't you just get changed and forget about me?"

"I don't know. Something kept me from signing you off as just another pervert. You had an honest look about you, I guess you could say."

Could her jean shorts be any shorter? God, her tanned legs begged, pleaded for some nylons to encase them in a fetish existence only I could ultimately enjoy. However, at the present moment, I only wished to nuzzle her sexy thighs. They were so smooth and soft looking. The more aroused I became from her legs, the more hard my cock attempted to get inside the cage even though I knew mentally it was impossible. Why wouldn't my cock just learn?

Suddenly, my phone buzzed to life in the middle of our conversation. It was a text message from my ex...and what it said nearly made my heard stop.

I want to see it. Send a pic right now, chastity slave, is what she sent.

"Are you okay? You look like you just got punched in the balls," Kara said.

"Sorry, can you excuse me for a moment? I need to take this," I said immediately scanning for the restroom.

"Sure, don't take too long."

Another text came through, What's taking so long?

I hurried into the men's room and headed straight to the nearest stall. Hands fumbling, I lowered my pants and took out my phone. Despite myself, I snapped a picture and sent it off to my Ex, proving I was still wearing the chastity device.

Aww, it looks so cute. If you hadn't had it on, you'd be hearing from my BF, fyi...see you tomorrow, chastity slave! she responded.

I decided to use the restroom while I was there, and took the humiliating position of sitting down to do so. I didn't realize wearing a chastity device would mean no longer standing up to pee unless my cock was aligned just right with the opening at the end.

Kara was back to her work on her laptop when I came back from the bathroom.

"Sorry about that," I said.

"Don't worry, I understand. Duty calls."

It had been a pretty decent evening, despite the slow building torture of the chastity cage. I hope it wasn't just my horniness talking, but I really was starting to like this girl.

"So you never really said what your job is," I asked, trying to get some more information. She had seemed a little evasive on the topic.

"Just research for school. I'm a grad student and that means my work never ends. Grading papers, planning lessons, it's pretty boring to talk about."

"So you're a TA?"

"Yep, impressive, right?"

"I should think so. If I hadn't gone into IT, I would've done something academic related."

"Oh really," she said, sitting back in her chair. "Like what?"

"I don't know, history or something along those lines."

Suddenly, the local barista shouted, "Closing soon, finish up your coffees, please."

It was getting late, and I didn't want to ruin a good thing. Kara looked at her watch and I imagined she was thinking the same thing.

"So, is this the part where I ask for your number and then don't call for a few days to show I'm not an obsessed stalker?" I asked.

"It might be," she said writing on a piece of scratch paper from her bag. "Just to warn you, I do have night classes so if I don't answer or can't go out, don't take it personally."

"Don't worry, I won't. I've enjoyed spending some time with you and hope we can do it again sometime," I said honestly.

Looking up at me, she replied, "Me too. I think I would actually like to see you again, so don't pussy out and give me a call."

With that, she grabbed her stuff and headed outside. I couldn't help but watch her exit, those fine curvy legs hugging those tight denim shorts. And then, just before she opened the door she looked back to catch me staring at her. Smirking with a wink, she stepped through the door and left, leaving me unfortunately aroused with no way to relieve myself and facing a completely new dilemma I hadn't even considered the night before.

How would my Ex react to this?

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Office lady pulls off big win in overtime

Shukan Bunshun July 30
Shukan Bunshun July 30

“I get incredibly excited fantasizing of situations where I have sex at the workplace,” confesses an anonymous contributor in the June issue of Renai Tengoku, a raunchy vernacular women’s magazine. “Having experienced it once, now I’ve become infatuated. I’m constantly turned on thinking about it.”

As related in the weekly “From the Ladies’ Magazines” column in Shukan Bunshun (July 30), this gal’s lusty tale began late one night two months earlier when she was burning the midnight oil at her office.

“I suddenly felt an irresistible feeling of desire, and slipped my hand inside my underwear and began stimulating myself,” she relates. “Just then, I was startled by a noise at the door. It turned out to be my colleague Mr. A, who had joined the company the same time I did.

“‘I’ve…had my eye on you right from the start,’ he stammered to me. ‘But seeing you doing this is pushing me too far…’

“We embraced and stumbled to the nearby conference room, where he pushed me onto the long table and began disrobing. His thing was bigger than I could have imagined, and without delay, he shoved it deep inside me. The sensation was so exquisite my brain seemed to go numb. As he kept rubbing my G-spot I felt as if I were going to pass out.

“Afterward, we’ve been getting it on in the office as often as we can.”

The writer’s byline is punfully rendered as “Ochitsu Lady,” a pun on “office lady.” Chitsu means vagina.

Source: “Shukujo no zasshi kara,” Shukan Bunshun (July 30, page 11


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Chapter 18

Their bliss, as all couples experience, was not as short-lived as Larson had guessed it would be.

This time no one barged in or screamed through the door. A simple, soft knock was all that penetrated their world. It sounded twice. A pause as Larson and James stared at the door, neither wanting to move. Two more quiet knocks and more pausing.

"I guess I'll get it," Larson groaned, pulling out and getting up in a motion that was not quite awkward. "Cover yourself," he winked back at James while pulling on some pants. He breathed deeply before opening the door a crack. As expected, his mother stood there with her hands on her hips, with Jethro standing awkwardly behind her. And here comes the scolding, Larson thought, amused, to himself.

"Larson," his mother's stern voice almost echoed in the space between them.

Larson glanced back at James' inquisitive expression before walking out of the room and closing the door. Now that he was out of the eyesight of James, he scowled at his family members across the hall. "Yes?"

"I don't appreciate you forcing me out," his mother looked hurt. Sort of. Or just angry. "And you will listen to what I have to say about your relationship with that boy."

"Fine," Larson growled. "I'll listen, but I'm not going to change anything about my relationship with James, except getting more intimate."

Larson's mom waved a hand in front of her face, ignoring Larson's comment. "I don't approve."

"So what?"

The silence that followed Larson's question was deafening.

"Don't talk back to your mother."

Larson raised an eyebrow. "A mother that thinks she can forbid a relationship between me and the person I love is sorely mistaken. That kind of mother," Larson turned around and put a hand on the doorknob, "is a mother I don't want." Larson opened the door and hastened through it, locking it shut behind him.

James had pulled pants and was sitting on the bed, waiting for Larson. "Your family? They…"

"They are nothing but interruptions," Larson walked over and kissed James on the forehead.

"Larson, that's not nice to say."

"I never said it was," Larson grinned, brushing his fingers along James' cheeks.

James stood up. "You should be nicer to them. They're your family, after all."

Larson sighed, standing up, too. "Only if you stay with me forever."

James blushed and jerked backwards.

Larson leaned closer, smiling.

"Well…Maybe if…you always stay with me," James said quietly.

"I plan to." Larson wrapped one hand around James' head and brought it closer until their lips met.

James gripped Larson's upper arm, stumbling back and falling over the side of the bed.

They landed with a thump, Larson on top, James underneath.

"Never stop loving me," Larson whispered, hugging James tightly.

"I couldn't stop if I tried," James whispered back.

"Then we're both agreed."

James closed his eyes. "Geez, you're so embarrassing."

"Does this mean we can be more intimate in school?"

James' eyes flashed open. "What?"

Larson rolled over, dragging James on top of him. "Now that we've officially 'become one'."

Larson smiled, cracking into a chuckle. "Only where people can't see, right?"

James dropped his gaze.

Larson bent his head, touching his forehead to James'. "Don't worry. I know the perfect spot."

~o/o~

The next morning the two met at their friends' usually gathering spot, both early as usual, so there was no one in the hall except the occasional teacher running a quick trip down to the printing room for mass printing of that day's worksheets and handouts.

James smiled at Larson sheepishly.

Larson grinned wide in return, stepping close to James. "Come with me," his voice rumbled too low for anyone but James to hear.

James nodded, consciously aware that he was too far in love to refuse anything that Larson asked.

Larson led them back down the same secluded hall and into the closet that is never used but always unlocked. James felt a tightness growing in his stomach, realizing that this was the same place that Larson had decided to torment James before. Larson smirked as he closed the door.

"I had a dream about you," Larson walked forward, dropping his bag unceremoniously on the floor as he advanced toward James.

James dropped his bag, too, backing up in pace with Larson. "Really?" His voice was small and barely a whispered. He felt his face go hot and suddenly thanked the dim, almost blackness of the closet. His back hit the wall with an unexpected harsh jerk.

Larson was there a moment later as James pitched forward slightly. "Yeah," he licked the tender skin on James' jaw, earning a shudder. "Do you wanna know what happened in it?" Larson's hands slid down James' stomach.

James closed his eyes, his stomach clenching as Larson's hot fingers graced over. He didn't trust his voice not to give out, so he just nodded his head.

Larson's fingers found the bulge at James' crotch. "I was sitting on my bed," his fingers dove into James' pants, his other hand unzipping James' jeans and shoving them down for more room. "I was just thinking about you when you walked through the door." The hand that had finished with James' jeans circled around his hips and pressed James into Larson from the small of his back.

James held his breath and squeezed his eyes tight as he remembered, when the roles were switched, another occasion, when Larson walked in on him thinking about him.

Larson smirked as if he could read James' thoughts. "You came over and sat on top of me." Larson spread his legs wide enough so that they straddled James'. "Then," the word stretched as Larson moved his mouth to James' lips. There, he pressed firmly but not too hard, and James' cock jerked in Larson's hand as he yearned for Larson's harsh kisses. Larson pulled away, smiling, "You caught me by surprise as you kissed me. And you reached down for my cock," he gave James a nice squeeze, making him squirm and forced to remember how to breathe. "You stroked it slowly," he copied his words with what he did to James. "I was almost about to explode when you let go and stepped off my bed." Larson's hand stopped moving against James.

James groaned. It took all the strength he had not to buck into Larson's hands in urgency for relief.

Larson leaned in to almost touching James' ear before whispering, "Then you took off your pants. And came back to slip off mine."

James almost whined as his hips began to twitch forward, and he felt his stomach tighten more as Larson's words became images in his mind. It was getting hard to breathe.

"Then," Larson teased, moving to lick softly on James' lower lip. "You sat on top of me again. And you guided me into yourself." To emphasis this sentence, Larson gripped James' cock harder and slid once from tip to base.

James closed his eyes and reached his neck back for the solidity of the wall behind him.

Larson kissed this newly exposed neck briefly and only once. "You were so tight. I hardly wanted you to move because I already felt on fire. When you did move, your body was irresistible, so I took you cock in my hand." His hand slowly started pumping James again. His other hand sneaked from James' back to the hem of his shirt. It pulled it up to give Larson's mouth the access it wanted. "And I licked you where you like it." His hand dipped down and kissed one straining nipple, letting his tongue swirl around it.

James gasped and cut off a groan that shot from his throat. "Larson," he whimpered. "Please."

Larson grinned as he sucked on the other nipple, increasing the pace of his back and forths on James' cock.

James' panting got more and more shallow and frequent until he bit his bottom lip and held his breath.

Larson locked his lips onto James just as shutters striped through his body, almost muting James' uncontrollable moan as the building heat shot into Larson's hand. Larson brought up his hand, now dripping in semen and using his other hand to tilt James' head to make him look, licked his hand clean. Gently, he got to his knees and did the same to James' cock.

James, who was already only supported by wobbly legs, had an even harder, and almost impossible, time keeping from collapsing completely. Though when Larson removed his tongue after he finished, James gave up on trying. He slid to the floor, panting to get any and as much air as he could.

Larson smirked down at him, licking his lips as he crouched down in front of James. He kissed James on the cheek, staying close to whisper. "You rode me hard and for a long time."