Still placing myself in danger

I really feel sometimes that I have found the answers and other times that they are just out of reach and that even if I stretch I will never get them.

Case in point… when I last wrote I was feeling optimistic that I was beginning to understand what being submissive meant in my terms…. for someone with my personality traits.

But the events of the week following that last post show how tenuous that understanding was….how I hadn’t learnt to recognise the danger signals.

My arousal fluctuates in cycles, presumably it is driven by my hormones.. but there doesn’t seem to be an identifiable pattern linked to anything. This is also no help… if I could predict when I was likely to be at my most aroused then I would stop communicating until the peak had passed.

But I don’t and that is where all this kicks off….. and I still shudder, in a bad way, when I revisit what I have done….

None of this was planned, anticipated or welcomed……… I can’t even identify what it was that made me so aroused but there I was, hanging by my fingernails, longing for someone to hear me orgasm……… and, because I equate pleasing people with being accepted, I allowed someone access to my private world.

Unfortunately, it was as exciting as I thought it would be….. it wasn’t telephone sex…. it was me performing to an audience…. hopefully of only one person….. but I’m not even sure of that.

I felt horrendous afterwards, although the sky didn’t fall……but a bit of me longs to do that again.

Hopefully that’s another lesson learned…. but I do wish they weren’t so bloody painful and achieved at such a high personal cost.

Sometimes I wonder whether it would be easier to give it all up….. trouble is my libido refuses to stay down!

Ho hum……

A revealing journey

Writing as myself here is something I haven’t done for a while and I’m feeling really self conscious.

I have moved on a long way in my journey towards discovering who I am sexually and that is thanks to the generous efforts of people I have met through Literotica.
What started as a tentative exploration of bi-sexuality has become a full blown, no holds barred experience of submission.

My mentors on the journey….
Initially I believed that I should be trying to find a woman who would guide me through all the questions whose answers would reveal if I were bi-sexual, which would then signal what I might do next… open a series of doors.

The stages of that initial journey I recorded faithfully at the beginning of this blog… it was here that I met M, whose help and support opened my eyes to the whole dominant/submissive world… single-handedly she has been the inspiration that has guided me every since… her warnings have saved me from certain harm. It was not until I realised the extent of the issues I faced that I understood just how timely her advice was…. more of that later…

Writing the stories here was my way of exploring my sexual fantasies….. I met some men on Literotica who shaped that journey… some positively, others negatively. The women I’ve met have all made generous and real contributions.
What happened and where it took me is clear now, with 20:20 hindsight. I’m open to criticism that I was naïve… this is certainly true; I was, but in my defence I would argue that the naivety was a direct result of my sexual condition.
I pursued options that were very risky, avoiding some traps before I fell prey to them…… telephone sex for example; running headlong into others, attracted by the promise of trust and respect and, at long last, answers.
Some guys whose fantasies I explored for myself and turned into stories, proved themselves to be as warm, caring and generous as the women…. I note Laurent and Bob in the category. Laurent in particular has been with me all the way….. checking up on me, making me laugh, wrapping me in his concern.

The biggest mistake I made was to ignore the warning signs from previous offline relationships….. being controlled by others’ actions…… in my offline life I have had relationships with controlling men… who haven’t wanted me to wear makeup, who didn’t want me to have particular friends, hobbies that didn’t involve them…… And I fell straight into that trap… in return for what I believed was the chance to write collaboratively…… all the usual crap I counsel my sisters to avoid….. you know the lines….. ‘my wife doesn’t love me’, ‘my life isn’t going the way I want it to’, ‘I love the way you……’

And this is the really stupid thing…… I stopped writing creatively, I ceased contributing to sexual roles plays, except those with him… because he was uncomfortable with me doing it……. how pathetic was that?
It wasn’t until he started making excuses about not answering emails and messages that I realised what a fool I had been.

But it has been an important learning point on my journey… because I was suddenly aware of the possible link between my personality, the mistakes I had made and my sexual being.

I can’t say that, armed with this understanding, I planned the next stage of the exploration… because it didn’t happen that way.. true to form I stumbled into the next revelation… but this at least looks as though it might have a happier outcome.

I started to write about themes that I explored very early on… what one person called ‘my dark side’; humiliation, control and arousal. Interestingly there are many men on Literotica who find this attractive, I have been contacted by several.

Broadly these seem to fall into two camps, the demanding and rather crude approach that seems completely out of touch with the real world….. wanting slaves who will do literally anything sexual with and for these guys…..a completely one side game… their side; and these guys get aggressive and/or abusive if any of their wants are challenged. Not surprisingly I haven’t maintained contact with any of them.

The other camp has far fewer inhabitants… men who understand that their partners have needs and rights. It is through these interactions that I have learnt that I’m deeply submissive.. my offline friends will not recognise this at all… I’m successful and assertive, I fight for equality; but that’s because I have successfully hidden my submissiveness in a work world.

It only comes to light when I look at some of the unsuccessful relationships I’ve had and the alarming inability to say ‘No’… which made virtually every conference, night out, party, a regretted and usually unfulfilled sexual experience.

Now I have discovered that being controlled in a situation where I can trust the other person is deeply sexually arousing and fulfilling and it works with both men and women. To date it is all head stuff, virtual interactions… I have a lot more work to do on my offline sexual encounters to make them as exciting. But I understand how to start to go about it….. at last.

I’m not sure what we will do with what we are writing….. not got there yet…..

Sophie and Laurent and my new office

You will probably have gathered by now that Laurent is a typical Frenchman, both randy and romantic, et il est très persistant…..
I told him I was having my office redecorated and he came up with this scenario. Parce qu'il fait me rire, il amuse très et spiritual, j'ai consenti.

Like the others in this series it starts with what Laurent is saying:

Laurent
So, here we are after our first couple of meetings sat in your lounge sipping coffee and talking about what happened.
Sat on your couch facing each other, your legs crossed over revealing some of your thigh as you are wearing a smart business suit, a couple of your blouse buttons undone, giving me the occasional glance at your cleavage that I like so much, as you have impeccable taste in lingerie.
You tell me that you are expecting a conference call in a short while and that you will have to sit behind your desk in your newly decorated office and ask me to be quiet as the call goes on.

After sometime you move to your office and I wait patiently in your lounge for your return but after 30 minutes waiting I decide to investigate what has happened to you, quietly I enter your office and see you sat in your luxurious leather chair with your feet on your desk, legs wide open, skirt and knickers on the floor, blouse open and breasts pulled out of the balcony bra you are wearing, I can smell your arousal too, you are not aware that I have entered your office and closed the door quietly behind me, gorging myself with the spectacle you give me, I can't see your face as the door is back to your chair, but hear you moaning and talking to someone, and then I hear it, you say her name, "Sophie", you tell her how much you loved meeting her and what she did to you as one hand is between your legs.........

I am right behind your chair and look down as your fingers stroke your swollen clit, your nipples hard and erect like bullets, looking so inviting, that's the moment you notice me and gasp out loud and I can hear Sophie asking you what’s going on.

Softly I let my hands cup your breasts and roll your hard nipples between my fingers making you gasp as it sends jolts of pleasure down to your pussy, your moan makes Sophie curious at what is happening and you tell her, I swing your chair around and look into your lust filled eyes as my mouth approaches your nipples and suck them in turns making you gasp out louder then before.

You go on to tell Sophie what I am doing and I can only imagine that she is masturbating herself hearing this. One of my hands joins yours and let a finger stroke your hard engorged clit, feeling your wetness oozing out of you on the chair, your moans become more frequent as you tell her what am I doing to you as she tells you what she is doing to herself and this excites you even more........

I proceed to kneel between your legs and pull you forward in your chair so that just your ass rests on the chair and drape your legs over my shoulders as I can smell the hot intoxicating fragrance of your inflamed pussy.

I start by licking your inner thighs, from one leg to another, gradually going higher until I reach your clit and it between my lips flicking it with my tongue rapidly thus making you let out a loud moan and grinding your hips against my face, lapping up your sweet nectar as you and Sophie tell each other what’s happening making; you even more horny then you already were........

As I continue to torture your sensitive clit I can see you pinching, rolling and twisting your hard nipples to add to your pleasure.
I then proceed to let a couple of fingers enter you and they slide into your burning pussy with ease as you are so slick with juices and begin fingering you slowly and curving them to hit your g-spot, having your clit and g-spot pleasured at the same makes you crazy with pleasure and lust........................


Collette

I really did have a conference call and as I know how Laurent likes to tease I thought it might be safer if he wasn’t in my office while I was pitching to a new client.
The call was over much quicker than I’d anticipated and as I was closing the soft client I noticed that I had a Yahoo message. I’m still a bit submissive and so I find messages difficult to ignore. This was no different. It was Sophie. We had swapped details at the club.
I felt compelled to answer and when she pinged me with an audio – an incoming call - I just had to answer.

Her voice was just as sexy as I had remembered, she said, “Ca va, Collette?” just like Laurent, the accent did it for me. I was lost… I just whispered back, “Bien!” and felt as though I was panting. In that moment I forgot Laurent waiting patiently in the next room, I was back in the club with Sophie whispering sexy things in my ear – it felt like being Jane Birkin all over again.

Sophie asked what I was wearing and laughed when I said I was dressed for business. She said, “I have some business with you, so you will take off your knickers.”

She had the power to completely dominate me, with a few words, so before I had even thought about what I was doing I had kicked off my shoes and removed my knickers.
“And,” demanded Sophie. “I have taken them off,” I whispered.
“Good, now your skirt, I want to hear your skin,” she said.

At that I had a massive jolt in my vagina…. hear my skin, what did she mean? I was soon to find out.

She said, “Lie back in your chair and wet your fingers,” and I did what she said, “Yes, I have, “ I replied.

“Excellent,” she said, “now rub your fingers over the top of your breasts and pop out your nipples. Stroke them gently and wet them with your saliva.
“Now, tell me how you feel, “ she ordered.

“I’m feeling really horny, “ I replied, “my breasts are really soft, my nipples are getting harder and bigger, the colours all around me seem brighter.”

“Merveilleux,” she replies, “maintenant, je veux que vous ayez caressé votre minou.” I knew exactly what she meant, Laurent and I had joked about the word ‘minou’ – I had only heard it in relation to animals –that being how the French call their cats! So I knew she was saying - stroke your pussy.
Looking back it was amusing how polite she was even when talking dirty to me!

I was helpless to resist, I did as she asked. “It is wonderful, my clit is hard and I’m really wet, oh, it feels so good,” I moaned to her.

She then told me to rub faster, “So I can hear your skin.” That’s what she meant …. And she would have been able to hear as my fingers made a squelching sound as they rubbed either side of my clit.

Sophie then suggested that I cast my mind back to the night at the club and tell her what we did that gave me that mind-blowing orgasm. Easy peasy, that was engraved on my brain…. I had revisited it many times on my own, with my fingers. The picture in my head…Sophie rhythmically pressing her thigh onto my slit and her pussy onto my leg, how aroused I was, how swollen my vagina.

“I can feel how wet you are, it is delicious,” I said, not realising in my excitement that I was describing it as if it were now – my hand pressing rhythmically against my clit as if it were her thigh.

Suddenly, there was Laurent, I got a glimpse of him reflected in the glass of the desk, I had forgotten that the speakerphone was on and that he would have heard everything Sophie and I were saying.
This gave me a massive jolt in my vagina – from the thought he’d been watching and listening - that made me gasp. Sophie demanded to know what was happening.
“His hands are squeezing my breasts, he is pulling my nipples, rolling them in his fingers, aaargh, “ I told her as I gasped again.
“And now,” she asked.
“He’s sucking and nibbling my nipples.” I heard her groan, “Ah oui, ma cherie,” she said, “je me caresse aussi.”

“Me dire plus,” Sophie ordered and I rushed to tell her that, “Laurent is now rubbing my clit alongside my own fingers and it feels like heaven. Now he is licking my inner thighs.”

Sophie told me to imagine that it is her who was doing this to me – so bit by bit I told her that Laurent had reached my clit and was licking and sucking it, swirling his tongue around it. I told her, how lovely it was to feel her dipping her tongue in my vagina, adding two and then three fingers to find my G spot. How I was thrusting down onto her fingers, how close I was getting.

“Ne pas venir pourtant,” she said to me, I had no clue that she meant, so I asked Laurent….. “Don’t cum yet, she’ s saying, “ he replied.

I groaned, I was very close. Laurent’s face and hands were all wet with my juice, I was shuddering and shivering.
He wouldn’t stop, in fact he made it much worse – so I was nearly over the edge, I pulled at my nipples, I arched my back and tensed my thigh muscles. I could hear the noises Sophie was making.

Then I heard her say, “Maintenant viens.” I screamed and squirted all over Laurent.

Bless him – he was so sweet, he licked his fingers so he wouldn’t get juice on my new desk and then kissed me gently. I reciprocated and licked my juice off his face. He groaned and I could see he’d got rather excited by all this, so I took pity on him….

Orchid - A Different Kind of Exploration

This represents a different direction for me, an attempt to explore my dark side, as one person I have met through Literotica, called it.
My online journey has taken several different turnings so far - one or two provide me with much needed humour and teasing, another is a source of great joy, some have been painful and I have been fortunate to be able to change direction away from them.

My greatest threat or risk is my tendency to be submissive - it might even be a craving. I find saying 'No' really difficult.
Sometimes, I think I must need to be hurt – so I can be coerced – otherwise why do I find the following fantasy so arousing?

The orchid also seems to have significance – to me it represents a very sophisticated bloom, very difficult to cultivate, but if it is kept away from direct sunlight it opens its virginal petals to reveal a very erotic core.


My new direction….. An Exploited Submissive
Rory and his partner had taken pity on me…. I’d met him at the Yoga class – he was a very good listener and made me laugh to help me relax. I found it very easy to tell him about my problems, we chatted regularly during the coffee break. He seemed to be a good friend of the tutor, they exchanged comments at the start and end of each class – so I made the leap and thought I could trust him.
My confidences became more revealing, it was cathartic, confessing my problems with previous boyfriends. The latest of them had ripped me off, doing a moonlight flit with my deposit for the apartment we shared, so I was just about to be evicted.
He was attractive in that older man, slightly battered but very experienced, way – laughter crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He had a way of looking deep into your eyes, pausing when he spoke, so you felt as though you were the only woman in the world; though I was sure he thought I was young enough to be his daughter – if he had one. He felt like a safe pair of hands – and he had a partner. I wished he had been my father, or perhaps uncle – given the little frisson of excitement I felt when I saw he was at class.

So over the weeks I sought him out at coffee breaks, until one night he suggested that I came and met his partner, for a drink after class. By this time I had told him all about my sexual experiences and my craving for some stability in my life – I was fed up with immature, shallow, selfish boys and wanted a strong man to rely on.

We met Rory’s partner at a local wine bar, she was about the same age as him – difficult to tell though as she looked after herself, obviously worked out and moisturised. Jane shook my hand as I sat down, she had a firm grip and like Rory looked directly into my eyes.

We chatted over a bottle of wine, Jane asking me lots of questions. It was so easy to talk to her as well – she had asked Rory to get another bottle, saying, “Let us women get to know each other, take your time…” I gave her a potted history of my relatively short list of boyfriends – talking, with her encouragement, about how my desire to belong had enabled them to manipulate me into humiliating sexual activities. She looked into my eyes and squeezed my hand, saying, “I can sympathise, approval seeking makes us all do things we regret.” Before I could say any more Rory had returned with another bottle.
He mentioned that he had told Jane about my forthcoming eviction and that they had a plan they wanted to put to me. I was all ears. Both of them looked at me and Rory explained what they had in mind.
He said, “You won’t have anywhere to live and so we’d like you to come and stay with us, until you find your feet. This isn’t charity, once you find a better job you can contribute to the household expenses; in the meantime we’d just be happy of you looked after our cats when we go out for the evening or away that the weekend. You aren’t allergic to cats are you? How does that sound?”

That sounded too good to be true, I leapt at it. “Oh yes, that would be great. I love cats.”
Rory said, “We need some ground rules, so we all understand what to expect from each other – we don’t want other people, that we don’t know, in our home so we’d expect you to not to invite any friends back, we will respect your privacy and vice versa – is that OK?”
I nodded, that was fine with me – I didn’t want the latest lowlife muscling in on my new-found luck and loved the idea of some privacy.

We agreed that I would move in at the weekend, have a day to get the cats used to me and then Rory and Jane would leave me to settle in on my own and go to their house in the country for Saturday and Sunday.

I duly moved in, with my meagre possessions, on Friday. Rory and Jane were there to help me get my room the way I wanted it – it was pretty much perfect. We had coffee in the living room and I met the two cats – beautiful Siamese with deep blue eyes and plaintive voices, one of them immediately settled on my lap prompting a comment from Jane, “She obviously recognises a kindred spirit, that’s an honour.” I didn’t see the significance of that remark, that the cats had strictly limited freedom, until much later and to be honest it might not have made any difference if I had.
The rest of the day passed in a blur, being shown where everything was, how the appliances worked, the cats’ domestic routine, shopping for their food and mine, getting my own front door key cut, eating the delicious meal that Rory cooked, getting mildly drunk on their lovely wine, a deep bath in my own bathroom and finally snuggling down in the huge bed. I had died and gone to heaven.

As I lay in bed, waiting for sleep to come, I ran through the rules we had agreed, everything seemed sensible – I had only one thing that made me curious – the emphasis that both of them put on their privacy – I was not, under any circumstances, to enter their bedroom, they mentioned this several times – they even said that the cats weren’t allowed in there.
This thought swirled around my mind as I slept.

On the Saturday morning I helped them pack their car, was given a hug by both of them and waved as the car left. I planned to laze about and read until they got back. I got myself a drink and settled down on one of the large sofas, with both cats draped over me, to read a long novel. Every so often I got up, to let the cats out into the small walled garden, to prepare their food or my own.
By early evening I was reaching the end of the novel and beginning to get a little bored, the cats must have sensed this and started getting rather skittish, running from one end of the apartment to the other, sliding on the woodblock floor and calling to each other.

I went and had a shower and dressed in the fluffy white towelling bathrobe I decided to check on the cat before putting on a DVD. The male was curled up on the sofa in the dent left by my body, the female was nowhere to be seen. I called as I walked down the hall and to my horror noticed that my hosts’ bedroom door was open.
I put my head around the door to see the other cat disappearing underneath the bed. I debated whether to leave it, but decided it would be better to get it out and then close the door firmly.

I walked across the room to the super king sized bed, as I reached it my foot knocked a remote controller on the floor. The noise from the TV made me jump, I turned to see a video of a naked woman showing on the 50 inch plasma screen on the opposite wall. Her body filled the screen. I could see she was aroused, the light glinted on the juice on her fingers stimulating her clit.
I watched, fascinated, as she rubbed her juice on to her hardened nipples. The camera panned back to enable to me to see how she stroked between her breasts and her slit, spreading her juice as she went. As she pinched and rolled her clit she arched her back and moaned, her legs were spread wide and I could clearly see her vagina opening and closing, slowly pushing out juice as it did so.

Her moans became louder, it was this as much as the images that kept me transfixed. I have an active libido and it had been a sexless month or so since the last boyfriend had left, the noises were beginning to get to me. Believe me I’m straight but was getting severely turned on. The arousal I was experiencing made me little light headed and so I sat down on the bed, my hand jammed between my thighs. As I did so I saw the woman turn onto her knees and present her rear to the camera. As the lens zoomed in I could see her fingers working her clit and sliding into her vagina, the microphone picked up the noises, slurping and squelching as she finger fucked herself. Again the camera panned up her body and as I watched the woman turned her head. My reaction was immediate, I had a massive vaginal contraction, it was Jane. She looked into the camera and it seemed into my eyes. Suddenly I was wet. I could se she was close to orgasming, she moved her fingers faster and I could hear her panting. Her labia were bright red and glistening with juice. She shrieked, “I’m cumming,” and I saw juice squirting from her vagina, onto the bed. At that point the screen went dark.

For a second I did nothing, frozen by the implications of what I had witnessed; then my body took over. I lay back on the quilt and started to rub my already sopping clit. I replayed the video and mimicked what Jane had done. At some point I shed the robe and put it under me. I just reached the point of kneeling and was sliding my fingers up my swollen vagina when I became aware of a noise. I looked over my shoulder to see Jane and Rory standing in the doorway. I shot off the bed and stood in front of them, my hands over my mound in a futile attempt to cover my arousal.

“You little slut,” hissed Jane, “how dare you defile my bed.” She turned to Rory, who shrugged his shoulders and commented, “We told you the rules, there is no alternative, you’ll have to leave.”
I babbled, “The cat came in and I knew it wasn’t allowed…… I trod on the remote control…..”. I pleaded, “Please let me stay, I’ll do anything to make up for what I’ve done, please don’t throw me out.” I reached out to Jane and she looked deep into my eyes, I felt a huge shudder move from my vagina to radiate out through my body. She saw it and smiled, “What a horny slut you are, maybe we could find a use for you. But first you have to be punished.” With this she looked at Rory, who nodded.

She leant over and twisted one of my nipples, hard. I yelped and shivered. She pulled me by my nipple over to a large cupboard that she opened. She pushed me down on the bench that ran its width and jammed each wrist through a strap located by my hips. This pulled me back onto the bench and had the effect of raising my hips so my vagina would be clearly visible when my ankles were tethered to the bench legs.

She selected a narrow switch from the rack mounted on the inside of the cupboard door. She started to hit me on my thighs, arms and breasts – not so hard as to break the skin or cause bruises, but enough to sting and redden the skin. This was both agony and ecstasy, I moaned, shivered and shuddered. My vagina convulsed and juice seeped out onto the bench, I was longing for release. I pleaded, “Please, please…”
Jane grasped my chin, “Look at me,” she ordered. As I did so she stood aside and I saw to my horror that Rory had a camera trained on me. “We want to make sure you remember your punishment,” she said.
She continued, “That was just the first part – physical pain, now you are going to experience a different kind of pain – denial.”

Rory set the camera up on a tripod, to one side of the room. Jane returned to my field of vision and started to take her clothes off. “You saw the video, now lets see how long you can last watching the real thing.”
She stood in front of me, within touching distance. I could smell her perfume. She sucked her fingers and wet her nipples, I felt mine harden further in sympathy. She gently scratched her finger nails across her breasts and down to her mound. I arched my back involuntarily, my breasts ached.

She inserted one finger into her slit and the spread her legs so I could see her clit. She then scratched her clit very softly with a finger nail and I could see the juice wicking up her finger. This made me shudder and arch again, I strained against the tethers. I so longed for it to be me. She coated her finger with her juice and brought it to her lips, running it along her upper lip and then into her mouth. She put one leg up on the bench next me and inserted three fingers into her vagina and as I watched, she thrust them in and out. I was overtaken by uncontrollable shudders. I could smell her arousal and hear the result. A whimper started in my throat, accentuated by the shivers. Jane smiled when she heard this.

“Oh yes, my little freckled slut, suffer…” she said as she laughed.
She inserted all four fingers into her vagina and thrust faster, I could see an orgasmic flush spreading across her breasts and up her neck, and she licked her lips and panted louder. “I’m going to cum soon,” she said, as she arched her back and thrust her mound even closer to my face. I could see the place the skin changed in texture and colour as it went inside her vagina, I could see the head of her clit as it convulsed in and out of its sheath, I could see juice oozing out of the little glands that lined the tender skin between her clit and vagina. I saw the start of her orgasm, when a standing wave began at her clit and moved down to her anal rose and then I was showered with her juice as the contractions made her squirt. I licked my lips and the sweet taste of her pushed me over the edge.

I started to beg, I was shivering and shuddering, “Please, please, I need…”
She opened her eyes and asked, “What, what is it you want?”
“I need to cum,” I replied.
“Not yet, “ she said, “you have to suffer a bit more pain.”

She turned to look at Rory and smiled at him. He was sporting a huge erection that was making a circus marquee of his pants.
“Come here, my darling,” she said, as she knelt down between my legs. He pulled off his pants and boxers, freeing his twitching cock. In two strides he was in front of her and rubbing his cock across her lips. I could see the pre-cum smearing across her soft skin. She opened her lips and took him deep into her mouth.
He groaned and thrust as he looked deep into my eyes. Like before I felt my body respond as though he was thrusting deep inside me. I couldn’t help it, I rocked my body in time to his thrusts.

He was so close I could smell the musky aroma of his scrotum. She reached between his legs and I could see her hand moving as she must be gently scratching around his anal ring. He responded by arching towards her and smiling at me. He held her head gently in his hands as he moved his cock in and out. I could see him getting harder and more aroused, the skin on his prick stretching and getting shiny. As his rhythm got faster I could a sheen of sweat forming on his chest and abdomen, it glistened on the hairs curled above his prick. I could here him breathing heavily.

“Are you ready for me, dearest?” he said to Jane, “I’m cumming,” he shouted as he bent backwards and pushed his cock forward. He bucked as he came and Jane took it all in her mouth. As he pulled back Jane leaned over me and let his semen dribble down my breasts. I could feel it burning a trail all the way to my mound.

I carried on whimpering and rocking, even I could hear my juice making squelching noises as it filled the gaps between my thighs and the bench.
I was panting and quivering, completely out of control now. I was briefly aware of Rory moving the camera and coming in close to record ever detail of my reactions. I was past caring about what happened to me now – I was one huge pulsing need.

Jane reached down and released my ankles. “Now its stage 3 of your punishment,” she paused, “you can have release but you aren’t allowed to touch yourself.” With that she undid my wrists and pulled me to my feet. “To make sure you don’t touch yourself I’m going to tie your wrists behind your back”. She took a large cable tie from the cupboard and pulled it quite tight around my wrists.
“Have a good look at yourself, “ she said as she pulled me in front of the wall mirror.
As I looked down my body I could see the sexual flush making my freckled skin even rosier, my engorged breasts and hugely erect nipples, the semen coating my breast and abdomen, my clit protruding from my labia and the juice that had spread down my inner thighs.
I was so aroused I didn’t know what to do with myself – seeing that arousal made it worse. I need to rub my clit but didn’t have the means to do it.

I looked pleadingly at Rory, he beckoned me over to where he was sitting and holding the camera. He moved his thigh into my line of vision and said, “I’m not going to touch you but I won’t stop you touching me.” He lifted the camera to record me approaching him. I knew getting his prick inside me was not allowed so I went for the next best thing and spread my thighs either side of one of his legs and started to rub my clit up and down his thigh. It was heaven and I soon reached a peak. I didn’t think I could shudder that hard but it seemed to go on for ever as my vagina contracted and expanded and I squirted all over his thigh and down his calf.
I slid down his leg to lie at his feet on the floor. He looked down at me, saying, “Good girl, we’ll clean you up and then we can discuss how you are going to make up for the bad thing you have done.”
I nod at him and smile weakly. Maybe they will let me stay after all.

Under the spotlight…my bisexuality

Every since I met ~M online I have thought about her and what it would be like to have a physical experience with her. So on a regular basis I revisit this in my sexual fantasies – I still can’t understand why, but the things I imagine are so real and exciting that the orgasms I have are spectacular; so maybe that’s why I keep going.

So this is my second fantasy that involves her……………..

~M has rung me, did I want to come over and have a coffee and a gossip? Yes, oh yes, like a shot.

We sit in her living room, it is a hot day outside, but the breeze from the ocean keeps the room cool.

~M relaxes on one of her sofas, I sit opposite her. We chat about inconsequential matters. We have frequent eye contact. For a while I feel comfortable but we get to discussing sexual fantasies, I get a fluttery feeling in my stomach.
She says, “I sense you are feeling a bit awkward talking about this, shall we stop?”
“No, but I’m not sure what to talk about,” I answer.
She asks, “Would you prefer it if I ask you some questions?”
I nod.
She starts by asking me how often I masturbate and where I start on my body. She is leaning back against the sofa cushions and she is gazing into my eyes.

I tell her how I start by stroking my breasts and nipples, using my finger tips and nails to stroke and very gently scratch them. Then how I go out wider, to run my nail tips over my tummy and back up to my breasts; then how I squeeze and push my breasts, working them quite firmly; how sometimes I will stroke the underside of my upper arms, up and under my breasts.

She asks how the skin feels – it is very soft, I tell her, especially on my breasts outside the areolas, how sensitive it is.
She asks if I only touch my nipples lightly – no not always I tell her, sometimes I scratch and pinch.
She asks if I twist and pull them a little, yes, I tell her it makes them more sensitive.
She then asks if I imagine eyes looking into mine, watching my reaction with each pinch...twist...pull. “Yes, I do…”

She says to me, “Tell me what you are feeling now.”
I tell her that I can feel my pupils widening, the light is getting brighter.

She says, “Someone is the puppeteer ...pinching here...you arch and moan; but just stopping and circling so softly again….. and you shiver and shudder.”

I can’t stop myself, I arch my back and her eyes widen. I say, “Of yes, from one to the other is delicious.”
She smiles at me and it’s hard not to smile back.
She asks if there's a perfect twist...at the border of pain and pleasure and before I can stop myself I have said, “Yes – it gives me a funny feeling up my vagina if it’s right.”
She is watching my face and she smiles again.

She then says, “I want to ask you some different questions now, on how you think doing other things might feel, are you alright with that?”

I nod, not sure what is going to happen.

She starts by saying… “Why don’t you close your eyes, lean back and relax…”

She says, “How would feel if there was a flick of the tongue on your nipple with eyes locked, with the puppeteer?”
I open my mouth to speak and my body has a series of little shudders – I blurt out, “I’m getting little shudders.”

She says, “But these shudders are good, aren’t they? What about teeth nipping gently?”

Suddenly I have a big, all over body shudder, one of those that makes me bend forward and groan, I can feel some wetness spreading through my knickers.
She smiles and leans forward a little and says, “What about licking a finger to wet your other nipple…. playing with both...teasing, sucking softly at one nipple....rolling the other between my fingers?”

“What do you feel?” she asks.

I whisper, “I’m getting vaginal contractions now...”

She says, “A gently writhing woman is so beautiful to me.”

I shudder again, I realise what she is doing and I don’t want her to stop.

She continues, “I keep teasing one nipple with my tongue...I pull and twist the other nipple just right... before letting it snap back and slowly sliding my hand down your tummy.”
I can’t hide my reactions now, I groan.

She says, “I stop my hand near your belly button, gently caressing your skin with my fingers.”

I have lost all inhibitions now, I’m rocking - this is so delicious.

She goes on, “I’m circling your nipple with my tongue...so slowly...watching your face...running my hand up and down your side.”

I have another big shudder and this makes me groan.

“Tell me how you feel now, Collette, “she says. I whisper, “I’m getting really wet now.”
She asks, “And you want, need?”

“You to rub my clit….” I groan back….

“I’m not going to touch you, but I want you to do as I tell you – will you do that?” she asks.

“Yes,” I whisper.

She says, “Do you have panties on?”
“Yes.”
She says, “ Feel them...on the outside, are they wet? Tap your clit through your panties for me...just tap it...no rubbing circles. Are you sensitive, needing more?
“Yes.”
“Ever taste yourself, Collette?”
“Yes.”
“Slide your fingers under your panties.…don't touch your clit.…get some of that wonderful nectar, suck it slowly off your fingers for me.…every drop; slide your hand back down...on top of your panties...

“Better listen, now slide it slowly...up and down your slit...even pressure...from clit to entrance...slowly….push your panties in there…..feel your pussy pulsing….your clit throbbing through the fabric…….my hand there……….just...not enough yet.

“Come back, Collette...come here, are you on the edge?” she asks.

I’m shaking, I’m nearly there.

I groan, “Nearly there, just want to stroke my clit to get there.”
She says, “Don't yet, good girl…..stay right there...feel that edge... you know you're going to scream when you fall over the edge...it's coming…..so close.

“Lift up your skirt, now pull your knickers aside, good,” she instructs.

She whispers, “Rub your clit, let my hand be there. Mmmm....so wet...you can hear your pussy….. I want inside…..I want your pussy….want to send my fingers inside of you…..rub your clit with my thumb while my fingers slide in and out….pounding into you...deeper and deeper…… whispering in your ear….. that's my girl... you want it...your pussy wants it, I can feel it...squeeze my fingers….let go...let me have you….
“Cum for me, my sweet little slut…..you love it...you love all of it…….that's it...don't stop...faster and harder……..explode...let go... you want to... you love this.”

I’m gone, the shudders meet the shivers and I scream, “I’m cumming,” as the juice gushes out all over my hand and my skirt.

I open my eyes slowly – not sure of ~M’s reaction. She is sitting there, a big smile on her face, her legs pressed closely together.

I have so many questions, but I’m learning gradually not to blurt them out…… although being submissive is so delicious.

Laurent’s Treat

Laurent liked the first story so much that he suggested that I write another. He knows that I fantasise about women and so this is his idea about how to please me.
Like last time – this is what he told me, followed by my version of what actually happened.

Laurent:

”Following our last encounter, I decided that we should take it further and knowing your taste for ladies, I chose to take you to a lavish private club on Berkeley Square where I had been on a few occasions by myself.
To ease you into it, I booked a table at The Ritz on Thursday evening, when it is a dinner dance when people arrive dressed in their best.
I had chosen for you a long dark red cocktail dress with a slit on both sides revealing your long legs, open back and V plunging front, exposing half of your breasts, …..any sudden movement could reveal your nipples.
As per my instructions you joined me in the bar looking sultry and extremely sexy, me being the only one knowing that under that dress you were not wearing any panties, but stockings with a porte-jarretelle, and a balconet bra barely able to support and hold in your breasts. Men glanced at you as you entered and couldn't believe you were joining me where a Champagne cocktail was waiting for you.
I loved how they were looking and trying to see more of your shapely legs as you crossed them one and then the other, hearing the fine silk covering your legs brushing against each other.
As we walked towards the restaurant where the Maitre D' showed us to our table you could feel eyes looking at your swaying ass, tightly clad into your dress, I loved the way it made me feel and knowing it was exciting you too.
I ordered us a nice bottle of Puligny-Montrachet to start and for the main course a bottle of Gevrey-Chambertin.
You knew I was up to something but you didn't know what or where I would take you afterwards and this gave you goose bumps. Between courses we danced, I held you tight against me and you could feel my arousal pressing into you, whispering in French, knowing this arouses you,
"tu aimes comme ma queue presse contre toi et t'exites, commences-tu a mouiller alors que nous dansons, tes tetons durs comme de la pierre, ton clito pret a etre sucer et lecher"
I cup your cheeks into my hands and pull you even tighter against me if that’s possible and reveal where I am going to take you later, as I reveal where I am taking you, you lips let a soft moan escape them.
As dinner finishes I lead to Berkeley Square as it is only a short walk, nodding at the door man; he opens the door for us and I can feel you shiver against me as we enter a luxurious lobby and greeted by a stunning tall black lady, her name is Sophie I tell you and she will be looking after us but more precisely after you....
Sitting ourselves down in to a luxury booth a bottle of Dom Perignon arrives, you are smiling nervously but the previous alcohol intake as calmed your nerves. As the champagne is poured I let my hand slide up your uncovered thigh until I reach your pussy and feel the heat and moistness oozing from it. I dip a finger inside, as you bite your lips as not to moan out loud, and cover it with your nectar and teasing your hard clit, withdrawing it you look at me with imploring eyes as you are so excited. I bring my finger to Sophie's lips and let her taste you on me as she lets her tongue twirl around moaning in appreciation and then saying you taste wonderful.
Sophie's is tall dark black woman who is French, she has an incredible ass that only black woman can have, big soft breasts, size E, with extremely long nipples that I have enjoyed in the past, she is an extremely talented and dedicated lover, but tonight, it is all about you being pleasured by Sophie as I watch; getting pleasured by her, with the contrast of her dark skin and your pale skin.
The reason I picked her is that she is French and black, a combination that I thought you would love.........”


Collette:

Laurent probably hasn’t told you how adventurous he is when it comes to sex. Before we met he’d had erotic encounters in interesting and unusual places and sometimes with more than one partner. He’s been very open about this and it intrigued me, so I’ve probably given him the idea that I’m more experimental than I really am.
But Laurent is also a romantic so when he told me about a dinner dance at the Ritz I loved the idea. He likes to be controlling and I love it when he is, so it was fun to let him choose my clothes for the evening. The cocktail dress in plum red slubbed silk fabric would not have been my first choice, with my colouring some reds are risky as they can clash with my auburn hair, but this was just right and looked very striking with the imperfections in the silk catching the light as I moved. Typically, Laurent had gone over the top, the side slits and low back were not a problem; but he’d bought me a platform bra – this made my cleavage several inches higher than normal. Really I don’t need such a bra since with C cup breasts there’s enough flesh there for a respectable sized cleavage – but men will be men…… I love wearing silk stockings in the evening so a lacy suspender belt was just the thing. I wasn’t too keen on going commando, particularly with a skirt with long side slits, but I knew he would be there to look after me.
The dinner was lovely. Laurent knows I like very dry white and it was chilled to perfection – not so cold that you couldn’t taste it – it went beautifully with the scallops we had for starters and his choice for the main course was inspired. He knows that I love wine from the Côte de Nuits – the body of the wine brought out the flavour of the Chateaubriand but didn’t overpower it as a Shiraz might have done. Between courses we danced. Laurent dances like all Frenchmen I have met – like an octopus – clasped up really close and hands all over you. I could feel his erection pressing against me as he whispered naughty French phrases in my ear. As usual the combination of the words in his sexy accent did for me – as he said I began to get wet and my clit was ready to be sucked and licked. He wouldn’t tell me what he had planned for after dinner, I knew it would be exciting – his surprises always are.
The walk to Berkeley Square was lovely, for a change it was a warm evening so we could enjoy the empty streets.
I’m not sure what Laurent had planned but the building we entered could be a club or a luxurious apartment block and my mind was racing, I was apprehensive. He introduced me to a beautiful woman in the lobby – Sophia. That he’d met her before was obvious, but from the looks that passed between them I was sure that he’d been intimate with her at least once before. Sophia joined us in the private booths that lined the large area in the centre of the club. Each booth had chaise longues and low tables and could be screened from the main area by semi transparent curtains. Laurent ordered champagne and waived the waiter away so Sophie could serve it. As she did so he slid a hand up my thigh and into my wet slit. I had to muffle a moan in my napkin. After giving me a little, delicious stroke he pulled his hand away and offered a finger to Sophie. As she sucked his finger I got a huge jolt of electricity through my vagina, his words as he’d introduced Sophie suddenly took on a new meaning. He’d said, “Sophie is here to look after your pleasure.” At that point I think I realised just what that might mean, Sophie said, “You taste wonderful.”
Sophie was stunning, the light reflected off her skin revealed just how soft it was. She was wearing a silky, clingy dress emphasised her beautiful curves, the deep purple enhanced the colour of her skin and made her look regal, she had the same accent as Laurent, but her voice was sexier as it had a certain huskiness to it.
She sat down next to me and handed me a glass. I was nervous about what might happen next, the wine I had drunk earlier had calmed me down a bit, but I was glad of something to hold. We chatted and Sophie sensed that I was curious about her. She told me that they had been friends for a long time, since childhood, when she winked at me I got the feeling that maybe she had been Laurent’s first lover

After I had taken a couple of sips Sophie took my glass and put it on the table. “Now it is time for you,” she said. I felt another jolt of electricity in my core. Laurent and I had discussed my bi-curiosity at length and I had told him of my torrid but limited previous experiences. That he’d remembered those and planned this for me was wonderful, made even more delicious by the fact that he would be watching and maybe joining in.

Sophie ran a finger up my arm and lifted my hair off my neck and she planted little kisses behind one ear. This made me shudder; it was so unexpected and arousing. With the same finger, and marked by little kisses, she traced a path down my neck and across the flesh of my breasts to just above my nipples. This made me shudder and moan. I was aware of a cooling breeze on my slit – the dress had slipped sideways to reveal my secret places and Laurent was blowing gently on them. For some reason that was incredibly arousing.
Sophie released my nipples and sucked them gently, rolling each between her tongue and lips. This made me moan and there was no way I could hide it.
She reached behind me and undid the long zip of my dress. As the fabric fell away she kissed the newly exposed areas – below my breasts, across my tummy and the top of my legs. She gently but firmly pulled me to my feet so I could step out of my dress. She knelt down to pick up the fabric and what she did next took me completely but surprise – she kissed the insides of my legs from my ankles to my thighs, through the silk onto the naked skin. Laurent had to hold me up by the time she’d got past my knees as I was shuddering so much. It was the most delicious bliss. I arched and trembled as she reached my slit. My legs were apart and I could see my silhouette in the mirror behind the chaise, it revealed light reflecting off the juice that was making its way through my labia onto my thighs. I watched Sophie's tongue reach my juice and start to lap it up. This triggered another massive shudder and I felt and saw more juice ooze out. Laurent added to the arousal, he stroked my breasts as he supported me, I could feel his erection straining at his trousers as I pressed back against his body.

He lowered me to the chaise and swung my body round so I was laying full length on it. He handed me my glass of champagne and said, “Have a sip, ma petite cherie.” He unzipped Sophie’s dress and kissed the back of her neck. She turned and tapped him on the hand, I thought I heard her use the word “mechant”, he grinned – I think she’d called him naughty boy.
Sophie was exquisite – Rubenesque probably would describe her best. She knelt next to the chaise and gently stroked one of my breasts. Then she kissed me all the way to my slit, I arched up against her face, it was so lovely a feeling. She insinuated her tongue into my slit and found my clit and started to roll and suck it. I was so wet it the juice began to spread over her face. She looked up at me and licked her lips and then began to kiss me and spread my juice up my tummy to my breasts and then up to my face. She ran her tongue across my upper lip and then kissed me deeply.

I was so aroused I couldn’t help arching up against her. She slipped one leg between mine so her thigh was pressing up against my clit, I felt a hot wet sensation on my left thigh – it was her pussy pressing against me.
She was as wet as I was.
She started to move her hips, rhythmically pressing her thigh onto my slit and her pussy onto my leg. The pressure and the vacuum created sucked the juice from our vaginas and made a loud squelching noise.
I’d never done this before, it felt so good; it built the tension and the sensation. While we were moving together Sophie pushed one of her breasts against my face and I sucked a nipple – I experimented with nipping and nibbling, she murmured, “Oui, oui, c’est au poil!” as she arched against me.
She reached around me to put a couple of fingers up my vagina and finger fucked me in time to the thrusts against my clit. When I wasn’t kissing and sucking her breasts, she was doing the same to me or we were kissing each other's mouths and faces. She encouraged me, speaking in French – it was so arousing, I missed most of what she said – I was in the clouds.
From time to time I was aware of Laurent, stroking me, kissing my hair, briefly I thought that he was being very patient – normally he would have jumped on me by now! – and then my mind went back to how close my orgasm was.
Sophie was a wonderful lover, she played me like an instrument – pulling back when I nearly went over the edge until I was supersensitive and shuddering all over, whimpering in my need. By trhis time I was completely out of control; moaning and groaning , shivering and shuddering, muscles expanding and contracting, my juice making a slick all down Sophie’s thigh. I felt the arousal ramp up as Sophie found my G-spot and started to press it – then I was over the edge, bucking against her and squeaking.
As my spasms subsided Sophie moved down my body to lick my clit and the whole area of my vulva. She was moaning and I sensed Laurent couldn’t hold back any longer. He slid his cock up her vagina; as it went in she sucked harder on my clit. She quickly established a rhythm – I felt Laurent’s pelvic thrusts communicated through her body shudders and the pressure of her mouth on my vulva. As her orgasm built Sophie fucked me with her tongue and that rapidly brought my arousal up to the edge again.
Laurent must have been very excited as he orgasmed when Sophie did. By some miracle so did I. We must have made one hell of a racket as my vulva muffled only Sophie’s shouts.
Laurent, gave me a kiss and asked if he could lick Sophie's pussy – of course he could – I was amazed at his restraint.

I said, “Absolument, vu qu’il fera mon virage pour faire que la prochaine fois!”…. there was no way I was going to miss that treat, a repeat of this adventure was on my agenda…maybe next time we could take a trip to France – perhaps to Belle Isle sur Risle at Pont Audemer – my favourite hotel of all time.

Beware of what you borrow…. It might get you into bother

This is a fantasy, suggested by a friend, who sent me the most delicious photo I have ever seen, as inspiration for it….

Collette and Janine have been friends since university, both are in their mid forties. They have gone their separate ways but always kept in touch. Janine had her family early and her daughter Jane is in her mid twenties.
Jane is a very assertive young woman, she is bi-sexual – not that her mother knows this. She has a strong libido and is very clear about what does and what doesn’t turn her on. Janine would say that her daughter has a tendency to be bossy. Jane would probably agree.

Collette has a successful career in a man’s world. In her view there are two types of women in her field – those who dress to please themselves and those who dress to please men. She’s in the former camp- her clothes are very chic but not sexy – functional and comfortable. Not that she’s a prude, its just that she has never seen the benefit in low cut, flimsy, lacy things – whether its undies or top layers. Of course she assumes that everyone else is like her – if there are sober clothes on top then what’s worn underneath will be sensible and not frivolous.

She has come to stay with Janine for a long weekend – they are still good friends but have never exchanged intimate secrets, neither knows for example that they share a fascination with bi-sexuality and that both of them would jump at the chance to experiment with sex as their current sexual relationships are a bit vanilla – fills them up but there is no spark.

Over breakfast, a comfortable meal with just the two of them, still in towelling robes, Collette tells Janine that she’ll need to do some shopping as she’s forgotten to pack enough underwear for her stay.
Janine says, “You and Jane are about the same size, she always buying underwear and will have some new stuff in her room, she won’t mind if you borrow something.”
“Shouldn’t I ask her first?” Collette says. “I don’t want to wind her up, if I’m honest I find Jane a bit intimidating, she is so confident.”
Janine smiles, “No more than we were at her age, go on, she won’t bite, I don’t expect her back for ages anyway.”

So after breakfast Collette has a shower and wrapped in a towel goes into Jane’s bedroom and sits at the dressing table where the underwear is kept. She takes out a couple of bras and some knickers. She really surprised, as these are beautifully designed, but very flimsy – made of lace and transparent fabrics, and she asks herself, “Jane wears these beneath business suits and jeans? She must do there are no ordinary cotton knickers here.” She chuckles to herself, remember when Janine and her were at university, how they used to call the knickers, she now wore, ‘ passion killers’.

She puts a pair of knickers to her cheek – they feel like silk, such a wonderful soft, slinky feeling against her skin. “I wonder want they would feel like on?” she says.
She slips the first pair on, white lace appliquéd onto translucent cream silk, these are like little shorts with wide frilly legs that are cut in a V high on the hips. They are so soft she can’t help stroking the fabric against her hip, “what a wonderful feeling that is,” she mutters to herself.
She then tries on the matching bra. It is wonderfully sculpted to hold up her breasts without masking her nipples, it feels as though she’s not wearing anything, except when she moves in a certain way, then the silk covered edge of the bra caresses her nipples. Again she can’t help touching the fabric, she catches sight of herself in the mirror, tongue between her lips, both hands up, fingers touching her breasts, legs spread and little curls of auburn pubic hair peeping round the frills. She gasps, she looks so alluring it is turning her on, she continues to look at her reflection and sees her nipples hardening – she is surprised, this has never happened before – she feels so sexy.

She takes off that set, eager to try another look. This time she chooses a lacy thong; she’s never worn one of these and has always wondered whether they would be comfortable or if they made you feel like you were being cut in half.
Again this feels as though it is made of silk. It has a V cut in the top to mirror the shape the rest of it makes across her mound and down to between her legs. She is amused by how little fabric it has, and how transparent the lace is. She slips it on and to her surprise it fits like a very comfortable glove. She then puts on the matching bra – this is made of similar material, under wired so it makes the most of her small breasts. Although the cups cover most of her breasts they might not be there – the fabric is completely transparent.
She looks at herself in the mirror and is shocked to see that she actually looks naked – she can see her slit and, if she moves her legs in a particular way, her clit and vagina. She can’t resist touching her nipples, where they are pressing up against the fabric
She is just thinking to herself that this is far cry from her cotton cover-ups, when she hears the door open, and in the mirror sees Jane come into the room.
She is transfixed, fingers still on nipples; totally flummoxed, she opens and closes her mouth but no sound comes out.
Jane smiles and comes to stand behind Collette. “How’s my favourite Aunt, then?” she says, as she makes eye contact in the mirror with Collette.
“I, um, I, er,” stammers Collette, rendered virtually speechless by the situation. Jane places a hand on each of Collette’s shoulders and squeezes gently.
“Mum said you were up here, wanting to borrow some undies – those look great on you,” she says.
Collette lets out the breath she doesn’t realise she’s holding. Relieved that Jane isn’t fed up with someone trying on her underwear without her knowledge, Collette gabbles, “I’m so glad you didn’t mind that….., I was worried you might…….., I didn’t want to……, your underwear is…., it is so lovely to….., feel so good in it….., it makes me feel…, want to……”

She puts her hands to her face, her cheeks are burning.
Jane reaches over Collette’s shoulders and grasps her hands and gently pulls them away from her face.
“It’s ok,” she whispers, “shush, shush, you look so good in them, look at how sexy your body looks.”
Collette looks in the mirror and suddenly sees herself through Jane’s eyes, rosy blushing across her breasts and cheeks, hard nipples, legs apart showing her secret places – an aroused woman. She groans and closes her eyes. She can’t face what she has discovered, that she loves Jane seeing her body like this. – a young woman who so easily could be her own daughter….

Jane kneels in front of Collette and pulls her into the circle of her arms. She whispers, “It’s alright, shush, just chill.”. She strokes Collette’s hair very softly. They are both kneeling and gradually Jane pulls Collette closer so they are touching breast to breast, hip to hip. She pushes Collette’s head onto her shoulder and lifting up her hair, gently strokes the back of her neck.
Collette whimpers. “Shush, shush,” Jane whispers again as she starts to stroke Collette’s nearly naked back.
She gently moves one hand up and down Collette’s back. As she does she feels Collette’s back rippling as little shudders make their way up and down the muscles.
Collette murmurs, “Stop, please stop, now!” and she pulls back from Jane. She looks into Jane’s eyes, her own luminous with unshed tears. “I mustn’t, you shouldn’t, I can’t,” she blurts.
“What is it,” asks Jane, “tell me, please.”

Collette pushes herself up from the floor and sits on the dressing table bench, she puts her head in her hands. From behind this screen she haltingly tells Jane, “I’m like your mother, I shouldn’t feel the way I do, I can’t feel like this…!”

Jane kneels in front of her and gently strokes Collette’s knees. “What are you feeling, Collette?” she says, “tell me.”
“I have feelings I shouldn’t have,” Collette confesses, “feelings for you.”

Jane says nothing, she plants little kisses on Collette’s knees and gently starts to stroke her thighs.
“No, “ says Collette.
Jane’s response is to kiss further up Collette’s thighs until she groans and spreads her legs.
Collette sits up straight and puts her hands down. She looks at Jane and says, “I’m going to stop you, because this is wrong.”

Jane replies, “Your body is saying something else, look how turned on you are.” She points in the mirror to between Collette’s legs, both of them can see wetness glistening on the labia, through the thong, as it reflects the light . She puts two fingers on Collette’s labia and rubs them gently through the fabric. Then she pushes until a finger separates the lips and slips past the fabric between them.

“Yes, oh yes,” says Jane as Collette groans.
Jane has found Collette’s clit and is rubbing it, shudders hit her body, spreading up from her vagina, the juice oozes out all over Jane’s finger. Collette can’t help her legs spreading wide. It is Jane’s turn to groan as she moves between Collette’s legs to lick her clit. Collette arches her body to increase the contact with Jane’s mouth.
Jane increases the pressure as she takes Collette’s clit between her lips and sucks it.
This is the most wonderful feeling that Collette has ever had. The pulling on her clit seems to go to her very core, she wants to press Jane’s head further into her slit, she wants to thrust and suddenly finds that is what she is doing. Jane slips a couple of fingers up Collette’s vagina and times her sucking and finger fucking with Collette’s thrusts. Soon Collette is shuddering and bucking on her fingers and face.
Collette is feeling so aroused, the sensation in her vagina is incredible, she can feel that everything is swollen and as though her heart in beating in her clit. Her muscles begin to tense sharply and she knows that this is the sign that her orgasm is nearly there. As she becomes aware of this all the tension lets go and the muscles stretch and contract rhythmically. Her hips arch and shudder and her juice squirts into Jane’s face as she cums. She pants and whimpers and squirms as the muscle contractions continue for 20 seconds. Throughout this time all she has been aware of is Jane’s mouth and fingers. As she comes down from her orgasm she becomes aware of the noises in the house and what a vulnerable situation she’s in.
Jane squats in front of her, takes Collette’s face in her hands and kisses her deeply. Collette is aware of her juice on Jane’s face and in her mouth. She is surprised how good it tastes.
She can’t help kissing Jane back. But then commonsense begins to assert itself.
She pulls back and says, “We can’t ever do that again, that was a mistake, I’m sorry, I’m responsible, I should have stopped you.”
Jane’s answer is to grasp Collette’s hand, put it between her legs and start to thrust on it, “You can’t stop now, “ she says, “look what you have done to me., I need to cum too.”
Collette groans and leaning forward returns Jane’s kisses.

“Yes,” she says …..

Laurent’s story: Online to Offline Lives

I asked Laurent to tell me a story that I could be part of….
This is what he told me and what I thought happened next…

Laurent
” We agree to meet in a busy Starbucks coffee bar on Trafalgar Square, I am early and sit and watch people going by, noticing how some women’s nipples are sticking out against their tight fitted blouses as they walk in the brisk cool morning.

After a while I see you approach and I am starting to feel nervous but also aroused as I recall our last conversation online. You were pleasuring yourself on your cam as I watched and stroked myself.

I stand up and give you a kiss on the cheek and ask you. “ What I can get you?” You are wearing a soft silk blouse through which I can see a glimpse of a lacy bra, a nicely fitting skirt that sits above your knee, letting me appreciate the shape of your calves.
Wearing high-heeled shows showing them off even more, at a guess you are wearing hold ups and hose. My mind goes into over drive as I go to the counter and order us coffees.

As I look back I can see you glancing at me and people around. I join the table and sit close to you which enables me to smell that you are wearing my favourite perfume, ‘Paris’ by Yves Saint Laurent, the scent makes me dream and makes me want to kiss you here in front of everybody!

I take hold of your hand and kiss it, keeping hold of it I stroke your finger; your skin so soft; making me want to suck each of your fingers knowing where they have been and done. I whisper to you, telling that you are even more beautiful in person that on the cam; you smile, take a sip of your coffee and lick your lips in an erotic kind of way.
I start telling you how you made me feel as I watched you pleasuring yourself, I can feel my erection trying to burst out of my trousers, I whisper to you that there is nothing more that I want to do but to taste you and have you have many orgasms from my oral stimulation.
You shift in your seat as you feel yourself getting moist from my words, I also notice that your nipples have stiffened up, not from the cold but from the arousal.
I let my second hand glide across your thighs, stroking them in long soft fluid movement, your eyes locked into mine, seeing your breathing a little faster as you love the way my fingers feel on your legs.........”

Collette
Laurent romanced me from the first instant message he sent. Let’s face it, the personal messages on Literotica are usually the “I’ve seen you post and I want to lick you.” variety, so someone who is polite but amusing, complimentary but respectful, stands out, holds the notice.

He used his Gallic charm to woo me, ending his posts with little seductive touches – ‘bisous’ – kisses.

In my head I could hear the sexy accent of Yves Montand:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kLlBOmDpn1s&feature=related

To be honest, this probably did for me – a pragmatic English woman, suddenly being courted by a guy who sounded (I hoped) like sex on legs. The curse of a vivid imagination….

To be fair, Laurent played by the rules and it was that as much as anything that led me to doing what I swore I never would, getting a web cam and actually masturbating to an audience of strangers – OK, there was only one in the audience, or so I hoped.
He was very skilled at seduction – he sent links to poems about love, he sent pictures of romantic places, he confessed his innermost thoughts – things he’d never even told his best friend. He laughed at my jokes and he made me laugh. We progressed quite quickly to cybering. He was a considerate cyber lover – he asked if I was comfortable with what we were doing – ramping it up a little at a time. It was delicious, I rushed home, hoping to hear the ping. I started to run my life by the timetable we agreed. We would describe what each might do to the other and what we were doing to ourselves until one or both or us orgasmed. These developed into full shuddering, squirting events on my part – and I quickly became addicted to the pleasure of those orgasms.

He was very clever, as I felt in control, that he wasn’t pumping me for information about aspects of myself I didn’t want to share. So of course I did want to share, didn’t I! I gave him my postcode, my work email address and my instant messaging ID.

We got into the habit of cybering regularly and for while it worked until Lauren began to get irritated with my typing. I have never been able to type without looking at the keyboard and found typing accurately on IM challenging. We reached the point where he suggested using the voice feature on Yahoo Messenger.
I was reluctant at first, possibly worried about what he might think of my voice, but the potential hint that the orgasms might stop helped me get over my reluctance. This took the sex to new heights. It was so easy to listen to his voice – not exactly Yves Montand – but extremely arousing as by now he knew all the triggers to get me wet and shuddering. We would play little games to extend our orgasms – it was amazing sex. The best I’d ever had – I became quite adventurous – tasting my own juice, using it to anoint my nipples and breasts and moisturise the skin on my face.
Before I knew it I was hooked on being guided to orgasm by a disembodied voice. He would control my orgasms in various ways, I might have to wait for an IM before I could start touching myself; he might email a link to a You Tube clip and I would masturbate to that so he could hear both me and the music.
I suppose it was inevitable that he would get around to the web cam.
I had confessed that I liked to be watched and gradually he would introduce this as an issue.
It came to a head one night when he mailed the link to Je t’aime. I’d heard the song a couple of times on the radio but hadn’t really listened to it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sHiMDB19Dyc
The instructions said I was to speak Jane Birkin’s lyrics to him, while he would respond with Serge Gainsbourg’s. As soon as I heard him say….
“Je vais, je vais et je viens
Entre tes reins
Je vais et je viens
Entre tes reins
Et je me retiens……”

in that accent of his ….. I was gone

And by…… Maintenant viens - I did – the most amazing screaming vaginal orgasm of my life.

It took him about five seconds to ‘persuade’ me about the web cam…. And about twenty-four hours until I performed for the first time. We set up the cam so he could talk to me via the messenger. In a way I was happy with this as it meant that he was taking responsibility for it, but in that I also forgot that I would be completely under his control.
It never occurred to me to suggest that we set rules for the cam. The assumption from the beginning was that I would be taking all my clothes off and that Lauren would have visual access to any part of my body that he chose to view.
I was terrified the first time I used the camera, all kinds of questions went through my head: What would he think of me? Would I be able to get aroused? Would I have orgasms?
With Laurent guiding me it felt a lot safer – he told me exactly what to do. I had set the camera up with the remote focus so zooming in and out would be easy.
Laurent asked me to take my shirt off, I was shy as this was the first time he had seen me – he was very reassuring – telling me how beautiful I was and how much he was looking forward to sharing this with me. I unbuttoned my shirt and slid it off my arms and covered my breasts with my hands; he cajoled me into dropping my hands, gentling me with softly whispered words.
He asked me to caress my nipples and wet my fingers so they would slide easily. I needn’t worried about getting turned because as soon as I started stroking the shivers started.
As Laurent’s request I pulled up my skirt and stroked my inner thighs and ran a finger up and down between my labia through the fabric of my knickers. It was so lovely that I could feel myself start to get swollen. Next it was my skirt, now I was down to just my knickers.
Laurent said, “I want to see the moment when your juice peeps out” – I took off my knickers and spread my legs and zoomed the camera in until Lauren signalled to stop. Then I very gently stroked my clit – I knew it wouldn’t be long before the juice started to flow as I was beginning to get little shudders. And there it was – Lauren saw it as soon as I felt it – like little pearls strung out across the area between my clit and my vagina. I found it was such a turn on, for him to talk me through what he could see and what I was doing – I became so aroused that I couldn’t stop shuddering. My fingers didn’t get as far as my vagina as suddenly I had a huge contraction and squirted. I could hear Laurent’s excitement – he lapsed into French and shouted, “Stupéfier, merveilleux, si juteux,” and this was rather difficult to follow as I was in the throes and my French is very rudimentary at best.
In the days that followed the cam show became a more or less daily event, characterised by a series of amazing orgasms as I got off on knowing that Lauren was enjoying it as much as I was.

This pretty much brings us up to today – Laurent was his usual persuasive self. He emailed his photo so I would recognise him when we met – tall and dark, brown eyes, wide smile.
He will have told you about that meeting – all I will add is that he is as sexy as hell and we can’t keep our hands off each other, we make love as often as we can – now that we live together….

and yes, my French is improving!

This is for Lin – who sometimes likes to let things build slowly

I’ll never forget the first time I saw her. It was a very ordinary day I was on my way into the city, on the train. It was very crowded as usual, no chance of a seat, so I stood in the aisle between the seats in First Class.
Day dreaming about a holiday I must have smiled to myself as I noticed a woman sitting on her own some way down the carriage smiling at me. That smile was infectious, soon we were grinning at each other. I noticed that she was very expensively dressed and had a beautiful leather briefcase.
The train arrived at the station and I lost sight of her in the crowd, I made my way to work and thought no more about it.

For the next few days I had breakfast meetings to attend so caught an earlier train and so it wasn’t until the following week that I caught the same one and saw her again. She waved when she saw me and beckoned me over. There was an empty seat next to her. She said to me, “You’ll be OK, the ticket inspector has been here and it will take him the rest of the journey to work through the other carriages.” She realised that I wasn’t about to pay a supplement to sit in First Class.
She said that she’d seen me on the train regularly for several months now and wondered what I did, why I was travelling to the city. “It’s a hobby of mine to imagine what people do, what makes them happy,” she said, “I was interested in you because I have often seen you smile and I promised myself that if I ever had the chance to talk to you that I would ask you why you were smiling.”
That made me laugh – we shared an interest in people watching. In that short journey – just twenty minutes – we swapped information about, jobs and careers, holidays and food likes. As the train arrived we agreed to chat the next time we met on the train.
“I’m Linda, by the way,” she said as we got up to leave. She put out her hand and I shook it. That was my first inkling about what was to come, a tiny shock like static electricity, tingled through my hand. “I’m Collette,” I replied.

For the next couple of weeks we met regularly to talk on the train and I got to know her – that she ran her own business, was happily married with no children, a little older than me. We found out that we shared a love of: beaches in winter, the aliens in ‘Men in Black’ and all of the film Love Actually; that we couldn’t stand pizza and politicians who ‘Twittered’; and that our favourite holiday destination was Madrid.
During this time we never touched, but I often wondered about that tingle.

Then one day she said, “I’m really early for a meeting, do you have time for a coffee?” I knew I wouldn’t be missed so I agreed and we went to the Starbucks at the station.
It was a little strange sitting on a comfortable chair, opposite her, being able to look into her eyes properly for the first time. It was here that I felt the first real stirrings and wondered if she was sharing that feeling. I had no idea and wasn’t about to screw things up by asking.
The hour flew by and we started to share more personal information about relationships, joking about the number of frogs we’d had to kiss before we’d found our Princes. We talked about the music that made us cry and skirted around the things that turned us on.

As we got up to leave she said to me, “I’ve really enjoyed this, we must do this again sometime, I feel like we are friends now.” With that she leaned across and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. I was so surprised that all I could do was put my hand up to touch the spot where her lips had brushed my skin. I stuttered, “Bye,” as she walked off.

I spent the next few days revisiting that kiss, like you do with your tongue to a sore tooth. I was becoming obsessed, replaying it again and again. This also coincided with a very busy time at work and early starts, so I didn’t have the chance to see her again for two weeks.
I stood the platform waiting for the train as usual but this time as it pulled in slowly I saw her face at one of the doors. She waved at me and as I got to the door she thrust a ticket into my hand. “I couldn’t risk missing you, so I bought you an upgrade,” she said, smiling broadly. As we went to our seats she told me about what had happened and the idea she had. She’d been given a voucher, by a client, as a ‘thank you’ for achieving a difficult project; it was for tea for two at the Ritz and would I like to be her guest?
I’d never been there and so I accepted like a shot – it was on my ‘500 things to do before you die’ list. We looked at our diaries and set a date for the following week. All too quickly the journey was over and we went our separate ways, unlikely to see it each other until the tea.

I agonised over what to wear that day, tried on lots of different things and finally settled for a silk shirt and linen trousers. We met in the lobby. Linda seemed a bit nervous. She said, “I haven’t been quite honest with you, come with me and I’ll show you what I mean.” She led the way to the lift. I was intrigued and if I’m honest a bit scared.

We went up to the second floor and she opened the door to a large suite – a sitting room with two comfortable sofas and an adjoining bedroom with an ensuite bathroom. She stood by one of the large windows overlooking Green Park and turned to look at me.
She said, “I wanted to get to know you better, but wanted that to be in private so we could be ourselves. There are no strings attached to this, whatever you decide I will accept and not think any differently of you. You can go now or stay and have tea and take it from there.”

I was overwhelmed. I had a fantasy of being seduced by a woman but never in such beautiful and luxurious surroundings. If it was here I wasn’t sure if I could go through with it.

I started to say something and Linda put up her hand, palm towards me. “Don’t say anything, just nod,” she said, “will you stay for tea?” When I nodded she let out a breath.

There was a discreet knock at the door and a uniformed young man wheeled in a trolley and laid up the table between the sofas with Darjeeling tea and slices of lemon, cucumber sandwiches and tiny scones to serve with strawberry jam and clotted cream.

We sat chatting as we sampled to sandwiches and the scones. It was very relaxed and I was enjoying it. The conversation ranged far and wide until Linda said, “I have something serious to ask you.”

I nodded and she asked, “Do you masturbate?”

I made some jokey response like, “All women do but it is the best kept secret in the world.”
“No, I’m serious, she said, “I’ve always wanted to know what turns other women on when they masturbate.”

“Will you tell me about your sexual fantasies?” she asked.
I said, "Yes."
She asked me to start so I told the story of having photos taken by an old man when I was still at school, that I often turned into a fantasy.

I explained about how I went to his studio and that the first thing he asked me to do was take off my shirt as it would show in the pictures.
Although I felt very uncomfortable with that I did as he asked. He gave me a piece of fabric to drape across my breasts.
As he took the pictures he kept coming over to arrange my long hair and would accidentally brush his fingers over my breasts. When he brushed my nipples they started to get hard. I felt very scared and that made me feel as though I was going to wet myself. He saw my arousal and played on it - touching my upper body, brushing against me.

Linda asked me to describe how my body felt while this was happening. I told her how I got a dull ache across my tummy; I started to get wet between my legs. I think I also started to blush across my neck and upper chest.

Just talking about it started to get me wet. It was a lovely feeling. She could see I was aroused.
“Will you show me what he what he did," she asked. I knew that I could bail out at any point, but this felt really safe, so I wanted to continue.

So I took off my shirt and pretended that my hands were his and stroked my breasts. It was amazing to have her watch me do this. She could see my arousal growing. Then she asked me to describe what my emotions were at the time. I talked about how humiliated I felt particularly because my body was reacting to his stimulation but I didn't want it to happen.

"This was rape" she said, “why did you get turned on?”

I replied, “I thought that I deserved the treatment I received because I needed to be punished for wanting sex. Submitting to his touching was also my way of buying approval, of getting to belong.”

It was wonderful to be able to tell her about this. I was so turned on and I think she could see that.
She asked me to carry on with the story and I did…

The guy told me that the best pictures would be of me naked, so I was to take my jeans off.
Linda could see I was shaking and said, “Shall I undo your zip for you?” I nodded.
I stood in front of her and she very gently unzipped my trousers and slid them down my legs. As she did so her fingers brushed the skin on my legs. That was so arousing, I moaned.

Once my trousers were off Linda just sat and looked at me. Finally I admitted to myself that I was hoping to seduce her - I was longing for her to stroke me.
I went on with the story, describing how the man ran his fingers along the top of my knickers. How he slipped his fingers inside the elastic and stroked my tummy, then down my tummy to my mound.
“Will you show me?” she said.
I did what she asked and she could see how wet I was, my juice was soaking through my knickers.
She asked me if he took my pants off and I said, “Yes.”
She asked, " Shall I do that for you now?”.
"Yes please," I replied. She took my knickers down and I stepped out of them to stand naked in front of her. She reached out and gently touched my tummy. I groaned and spread my legs. I shivered, full of need.

I longed to have her touch me between the legs. I longed to have an orgasm. I wanted to ask her to stroke me but was too shy to do so.
“Please,” I begged.
“Of course,” she replied and reached out to me with her arms…….

To be continued…..

Italian Story

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~M

I will call these my ~M fantasies – m for mmm as well as in homage to a mentor and guide.

~M has been the inspiration for my blog and my journey to find out who I am; the first person to point out that the records of my fantasies had value.
As well as that she has an uncanny quality –her email address appearing in my inbox triggers a vaginal spasm and I’m wet before I have even read the message. Even writing about reading her messages is getting me wet now..aaaarrgh…

So, many of my fantasies have been based on how I imagine it would be like to be controlled, seduced, persuaded, watched – by ~M. I’m a generous person so I have other people playing parts – but there is a woman in all of them – exerting or guiding some form of control – in some cases saving me from myself.

***********************************************************************

The Book Club

I have been invited to join the book club. It’s a coup as there are lots of people who like to be in that club….
~M is the founder member and is really the person who drives it. The club meets at a different person’s home each month, to read and reflect on chosen stories and pieces of literature. Well, that’s what I have been told.

I turn up at the appointed time to ~M’s house. It is spacious and, although I know she has children, her sitting room is a haven of restfulness – large sofas surround an oak chest that acts as a low table. She has flowers arranged in vases – the design look is country chintz – floral linens and good quality natural fibre fabrics in creams, pale pinks and greens and lavender shades. There are double doors and windows running the width of the room that look out on to a large lawn that runs down to the shoreline. This evening the doors are propped open and a gentle breeze wafts through the room.

The club usually has eight or nine members that attend but tonight is my induction so ~M has only invited Carol to help her assess whether I would be an asset to the club. I love reading and I admire ~M so it seems an ideal thing to try for.

We sit down, ~M and Carol on one sofa and me facing them on another.
The sofas have high back so our shoulders are about level with the top of the cushions.

~M explains how the evening is organised, we have readings and reflection and then refreshments. She also mentions that the host chooses the story.
She says,
“We are branching out a little now and have decided to be quite risqué – so I have downloaded a short story from Literotica – it has three sections and each of us will read one section. Then we will each deliver a personal reflection on it. As I am the host I also get to do a critique on everyone’s reflection – this is also so we can learn how to express ourselves – and that is one of the objectives of the club. On the basis of how you perform tonight Carol and I will decide if you can join the club.”
She gets up to fetch the papers and as she comes back along the sofa she runs her fingers along Carol’s shoulder.

She hands out the sections of the story and we settle back. Carol starts… it is a story about a woman who is seduced into her first lesbian experience at a party.
Carol reads fluently and well. She pauses for effect and that increases the impact of the story. At the end of her section ~M asks her to comment on the quality of the writing and how it has made her feel. As she does this she brushes a lock of Carol’s hair off her face.
On the face of it these two actions – fingers on the shoulders and hair brushing are not overtly sexual but they hint at an intimacy that I would love to be a part of. Both have a profound effect on me.

Carol talks about the way the story is constructed, how the suspense builds and the techniques the author uses to build the tension. Then ~M asks her, “But what did it make you feel?”
Carol replies, “Well, it did make my nipples swell a bit and my pussy is tingling.”
It seems as though ~M is not really happy with Carol’s second response. She says, “You haven’t set a very good example for Collette to follow, you know.” She taps Carol’s knee with the flat of her hand.

Carol mutters something about it not being her kind of story. ~M replies, “Well you’ll have your choice next time and we’ll expect a better response from you.”

This worries me a little, but at least I know what level isn’t acceptable.
It is my turn to read and I think I do a fair job. It is a very hot story as far as I’m concerned, the images are very vivid and I’m aware of the effect it is having on me.

So time for reflection. I take a deep breath and go through the literary conventions the author uses to differentiate between the characters, how she makes the dialogue come alive and how she builds the sexual tension.

Then I say, “And how did it make me feel?”
It was as though a button had been pressed…..
I describe my arousal – “It really turned me on; I’m really wet now; my clit is swollen, my vagina is beginning to spasm; I’m beginning to get little shudders; my nipples are fully erect; my breasts are aching.”

~M and Carol have exchanged glances while I have been babbling on, I’m concerned that I have gone too far.

“That’s good, Collette,” ~M says.
Then she continues, “But I sense you are looking for something else, what do you want from this?”

I’m so relieved that she hasn’t disapproved of my reflection that I don’t even think about my reply – I blurt out,
“I want to be Alison in the story;
I want to be seduced;
I so want to be part of this club;
I want you to stroke me like you do Carol….

And then I stop, horrified at what I have just blurted out.

~M smiles, enigmatically.

She extends her arms and says, “Come here.”

I’m shaking so hard that I can hardly stand up. I’m so relived that I have not been rejected; I have a massive spasm because I am so aroused; I move around the table still shuddering. I stand in front of her and she gestures for me to lift my skirt.

“Show us just how excited you are,“ she says.

I do as instructed. I lift my skirt to reveal a white lacy thong that is soaked with my juice.

~M says, “We can’t see how swollen you are, take off your knickers.”

I push my thong down to my ankles and step out of it, I put the soaked thong on the table, and then I pull my skirt up again.

~M leans towards me and blows gently on my clit that is peeping out from between my labia as it is so engorged……

At that point in the story I have a massive orgasm and squirt onto the sheet ,
– that’s right I didn’t even get to the end of the fantasy before cumming.