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If You Love Me, Comment *Now*!
It's a long, slow afternoon and I am being bored witless!
Please help me survive the afternoon! Leave a comment to entertain, puzzle, delight or mesmerize me.
Be anonymous, if you'd like.
Geek out about your favorite passion.
Offer a cryptic oracle.
Be naughty.
Just talk to me, please!
Please help me survive the afternoon! Leave a comment to entertain, puzzle, delight or mesmerize me.
Be anonymous, if you'd like.
Geek out about your favorite passion.
Offer a cryptic oracle.
Be naughty.
Just talk to me, please!
Story: Leda and the Swan, part 3
"Something tells me this isn't the first time *you've* ever had sex with a stranger."
She moved back slightly without letting go of my breasts and looked me in the eye. "Do I feel like a stranger to you?"
I'm a shy person; it takes a lot to get past my defenses. Once in a while I meet someone I feel I've always known, and with that person the defenses never get raised. Carla was one such person, which was undoubtedly why I was doing something with her that I'd never done before.
"No," I answered her, "I feel as if I've known you for years."
"And soon you will know me better."
I removed her hands from my breasts long enough to pull her tee-shirt over her head, then replaced them. "Controlling bitch, aren't you," she said.
I giggled. "You don't know the half of it."
She gave me a look that said she knew more than I thought, and I wondered, for the first of what would be many times, how she could read me so well.
My purple Indian skirt had an elastic waistband, as did my underwear. One yank, and I was dressed only in sandals. Carla was wearing ratty jeans, the appropriate attire of the working sculptor, which took longer to
remove.
Once they were off, I dropped to my knees, pressed my face to her vulva, and inhaled. God, she smelled wonderful.
"Can't wait to get to the good stuff, huh?" she teased.
"I never can." I was completely serious.
"Somebody should teach you some manners." She was still teasing.
"People have tried." I was still serious.
I pushed her over to her bed, onto her back with her legs spread. I laid on my stomach between her legs, with my face next to her vulva. I inhaled again. Mmmm -- woman. I took her clit in my mouth and began to lick it, alternating flicking it lightly back and forth with flicking it lightly up and down. She got wet almost immediately, which made licking her all the more fun.
Her scent grew stronger and her juices tasted wonderful. I was surrounded by, immersed in, the sight and scent and taste and feel of Carla. She started to moan, and sound was added to my other pleasures.
I licked her slick wet clit, sucked her delicious juices, rubbed my tongue against the warm wet folds of her vulva. It always amazes me that women like this. I'd ask them to let me do it to them as a favor, because I enjoy it so much, and they actually get pleasure out of it, too. It's
days like this that I believe there really is a Goddess.
I supported myself on my left elbow while I put the forefinger of my right hand into her. I moved it slowly in and out of her, licking her clit all the while. She felt open enough for more fingers, so I added another and pumped a little harder. Judging by the sounds she made, Carla very much liked getting eaten and fingerfucked at the same time. I was glad she wasn't one of those anti-penetration lesbians.
When I first started making love with women, I fingerfucked them because I thought they would enjoy it. It only took a few sessions, though, before my fingers looked forward to it at least as much as their cunts. I was bemused when this occurred. Fingers are not on the recognized list of erogenous zones -- how could it be that my fingers *wanted* my lover. They didn't itch, exactly, or ache, or tingle -- it was some sensation I didn't have a name for. But they *wanted* her in a way that felt physical, even though I knew it must be psychological. I wondered what it must be like to have a penis, if my fingers could crave cunt so badly. Have to find out in my next life.
Carla seemed to be getting really close to coming, so I speeded everything up, licking and fucking faster. "Harder," she said. I didn't know which activity she was talking about, but it didn't seem the right time to ask for lengthy explanations, so I kept licking lightly but fucked her as hard as I could. Carla came, screaming, then collapsed. I love the screamers.
She was sweaty and breathing hard as I moved up to hug her, and we lay intertwined for a while, snuggling.
Story: Leda and the Swan, part 4
"You can have all the foreplay you want, right now," I said.
"That makes it AFTERplay."
"Details, details."
She laughed.
"Are you teasing, or are you really disappointed?"
"Oh, I'm always TERRIBLY disappointed when I come my brains loose."
I was relieved.
"I was just a little surprised is all. I don't know many women who get right down to business like that."
"Business! I forgot all about business. How many chits do I have to give you to let me lick your cunt?"
She pretended to slap me, then chuckled. "That's a kind of whore I never heard of."
I ducked the blow. "Stop that, or I'll call the police."
Carla stopped teasing and looked at me seriously for a minute. "Before you made me incapable of noticing anything, I did happen to catch sight of those bruises on your ass. They didn't look like you got them by falling down one of Ithaca's endless hills."
"Oh," I teased, "Are you a connoisseur of bruises?"
"Yes." She was still being serious. "I inflict enough of them on my lovers to know what hairbrush bruises look like, Leah."
"You're a pervert, too!" She nodded. "Top or switch?"
"Top," she answered. "Bottom or switch?"
"Switch."
"Speaking of which, I'd like to take one to you."
"My body is yours."
She caught my eye. "Someday you will say that to me and mean it completely."
I shuddered and didn't answer.
"What's your safeword?"
"Vanilla."
She smiled. "I was joking about the switch, but I do have this nice hairbrush, and since it looks as if your body is already...familiar... with such an implement, I'd like to use it."
"Could you start with your hand and then switch to the hairbrush? It seems more personal somehow if it's your flesh against mine."
"Certainly wouldn't want to be impersonal with somebody who's spent the last hour with her face in my cunt. Come lie across my lap."
I'm pretty tall, so lying across someone's knee always leaves me with a couple of yards of arms and legs left over. Some people get off on the indignity of the position, but I'm not one of them -- I just like what happens after I get into it.
She caressed my ass gently with her palm, then slapped me lightly. Somehow the first slap always surprises me. She waited a moment, then slapped me again, just slightly harder. Another pause, another blow. It was clear that she wasn't in any kind of hurry, and I liked that. It's always overwhelming when somebody manages to convey that they don't have anywhere
else they need to go or anything else they need to do besides make love to you.
She spanked me in that same leisurely way for quite a while, each blow just slightly harder than the last. Eventually, my ass started to feel quite warm, and at that point she switched to the hairbrush. Her first blow with the hairbrush was much harder than the last one with her hand, and I yelped, as much out of surprise as out of pain.
Strictly Mediocre Story: Leda and the Swan, part 5
She gave me an evil grin that I hadn't seen before. "Now that I've got you sufficiently warmed up, we can get down to some serious beating."
I gulped, then comforted myself with the thought that she was just trying to play with my head.
She hit me over and over again, quite hard, but with ample time to recover between blows. I was yipping a little, but not really crying or screaming.
She noticed this. "I'd like to make you scream a little. Is that okay with you, or do you usually stop here?"
"Uh, yes to both."
"Both? Well, I *am* flattered. But not so much that I won't hit you as hard as I can."
The first blow landed, and I screamed, just as she had desired. My ass felt so hot, I could have sworn she had heated the brush on the stove, even though I knew she had not. Another blow, another scream. God, she was good. Again. We continued for a while, then I decided I had had enough. "Vanilla," I said.
She stopped and began to lightly kiss the area she had just smacked, feather light kisses that I wouldn't even have been able to feel if my ass weren't so tender. She turned me over and planted the same feathery kisses on my thighs, then my vulva, then my clit. She began to treat me as I had treated her, and with the same result.
We snuggled up close, and I played with her hair while she caressed my cheek. "I knew if I joined the Ithaca Barter Network I'd meet some interesting people," I said.
She put on a phony English accent. "Well met," she said, "Jolly well met."
And our relationship continued, and grew, but those are other stories.
***********
There really is a "Leda and the Swan" like the one I describe in the
Metropolitan Museum of Art. Check it out the next time you're there.
(There also really is an aquarium in the Museum of Modern Art with
three basketballs floating in it. I leave checking THAT out to your
own discretion.)
Copyright 1991 Cory L. Kerens. You can read it and lend it to
friends, but please don't repost it or sell it.
************************************************************
Who needs other drugs when we've got sex and chocolate?
Well, there it is, just as it was when I posted it, umpteen years ago. Hope it helps slightly with the boredom!
Re: Strictly Mediocre Story: Leda and the Swan, part 5
Guess I'm going to have to share some of my own bdsm erotica now. ;-)
And I'm glad to hear there really is such a Leda and The Swan statue. I'll have to look it up.
Re: Strictly Mediocre Story: Leda and the Swan, part 5
You're welcome. I hope it was at least slightly interesting.
Guess I'm going to have to share some of my own bdsm erotica now. ;-)
Please do!
And I'm glad to hear there really is such a Leda and The Swan statue. I'll have to look it up.
Yeah, my husband, Norman/